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Title:  The Arabian Nights Entertainments Complete

Author:  Anon.

Release Date:  May, 2004 [EBook #5668] [Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule] [This file was first posted on August 5, 2002] [Most recently updated on May 22, 2007]

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The “Aldine” Edition of

The Arabian Nights Entertainments

Illustrated by S. L. Wood

From the text of Dr. Jonathan Scott

In Four Volumes

Volume 1

Only 500 copies of the Small Paper Edition are printed
for America, of which this is No. 217

London
Pickering and Chatto
1890

The Publishers’ Preface.

This, the “Aldine Edition” of “The Arabian Nights Entertainments,” forms the first four volumes of a proposed series of reprints of the Standard works of fiction which have appeared in the English language.

It is our intention to publish the series in an artistic way, well illustrating a text typographically as perfect as possible.  The texts in all cases will be carefully chosen from approved editions.

The series is intended for those who appreciate well printed and illustrated books, or who are in want of a handy and handsome edition of such works to place upon their bookshelves.

The exact origin of the Tales, which appear in the Arabic as “The Thousand and One Nights,” is unknown.  The Caliph Haroon al Rusheed, who, figures in so lifelike a manner in many of the stories, was a contemporary of the Emperor Charlemagne, and there is internal evidence that the collection was made in the Arabic language about the end of the tenth century.

They undoubtedly convey a picturesque impression of the manners, sentiments, and customs of Eastern Mediaeval Life.

The stories were translated from the Arabic by M. Galland and first found their way into English in 1704, when they were retranslated from M. Galland’s French text and at once became exceedingly popular.

This process of double translation had great disadvantages; it induced Dr. Jonathan Scott, Oriental Professor, to publish in 1811, a new edition, revised and corrected from the Arabic.

It is upon this text that the present edition is formed.

It will be found free from that grossness which is unavoidable in a strictly literal translation of the original into English; and which has rendered the splendid translations of Sir R. Burton and Mr. J. Payne quite unsuitable as the basis of a popular edition, though at the same time stamping the works as the two most perfect editions for the student.

The scholarly translation of Lane, by the too strict an adherence to Oriental forms of expression, and somewhat pedantic rendering of the spelling of proper names, is found to be tedious to a very large number of readers attracted by the rich imagination, romance, and humour of these tales.

The Arabian Nights Entertainments.

The chronicles of the Sassanians, ancient kings of Persia, who extended their empire into the Indies, over all the adjacent islands, and a great way beyond the Ganges, as far as China, acquaint us, that there was formerly a king of that potent family, who was regarded as the most excellent prince of his time.  He was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was dreaded by his neighbours, on account of his velour, and well-disciplined troops.  He had two sons; the elder Shier-ear, the worthy heir of his father, and endowed with all his virtues; the younger Shaw-zummaun, a prince of equal merit.

After a long and glorious reign, this king died; and Shier-ear mounted his throne.  Shaw-zummaun, being excluded from all share in the government by the laws of the empire, and obliged to live a private life, was so far from envying the happiness of his brother, that he made it his whole business to please him, and in this succeeded without much difficulty.  Shier-ear, who had naturally a great affection the prince his brother, gave him the kingdom of Great Tartary.  Shaw-zummaun went immediately and took possession of it, and fixed the seat of his government at Samarcand, the metropolis of the country.

After they had been separated ten years, Shier-ear, being very desirous of seeing his brother, resolved to send an ambassador to invite him to his court.  He made choice of his prime vizier for the embassy, and sent him to Tartary, with a retinue answerable to his dignity.  The vizier proceeded with all possible expedition to Samarcand.  When he came near the city, Shaw-zummaun was informed of his approach, and went to meet him attended by the principal lords of his court, who, to shew the greater honour to the sultan’s minister, appeared in magnificent apparel.  The king of Tartary received the ambassador with the greatest demonstrations of joy; and immediately asked him concerning the welfare of the sultan his brother.  The vizier having acquainted him that he was in health, informed him of the purpose of his embassy.  Shaw-zummaun was much affected, and answered:  “Sage vizier, the sultan my brother does me too much honour; nothing could be more agreeable to me, for I as ardently long to see him as he does to see me.  Time has not diminished my friendship more than his.  My kingdom is in peace, and I want no more than ten days to get myself ready to return with you.  There is therefore no necessity for your entering the city for so short a period.  I pray you to pitch your tents here, and I will order everything necessary to be provided for yourself and your attendants.”  The vizier readily complied; and as soon as the king returned to the city, he sent him a prodigious quantity of provisions of all sorts, with presents of great value.

In the meanwhile, Shaw-zummaun prepared for his journey, gave orders about his most important affairs, appointed a council to govern in his absence, and named a minister, of whose wisdom he had sufficient experience, and in whom he had entire confidence, to be their president.  At the end of ten days, his equipage being ready, he took leave of the queen his wife, and went out of town in the evening with his retinue.  He pitched his royal pavilion near the vizier’s tent, and conversed with him till midnight.  Wishing once more to see the queen, whom he ardently loved, he returned alone to his palace, and went directly to her majesty’s apartments.  But she, not expecting his return, had taken one of the meanest officers of her household to her bed.

The king entered without noise, and pleased himself to think how he should surprise his wife who he thought loved him with reciprocal tenderness.  But how great was his astonishment, when, by the light of the flambeau, he beheld a man in her arms!  He stood immovable for some time, not knowing how to believe his own eyes.  But finding there was no room for doubt, “How!” said he to himself, “I am scarcely out of my palace, and but just under the walls of Samarcand, and dare they put such an outrage upon me?  Perfidious wretches! your crime shall not go unpunished.  As a king, I am bound to punish wickedness committed in my dominions; and as an enraged husband, I must sacrifice you to my just resentment.”  The unfortunate prince, giving way to his rage, then drew his cimeter, and approaching the bed killed them both with one blow, their sleep into death; and afterwards taking them up, he threw them out of a window into the ditch that surrounded the palace.

Having thus avenged himself, he returned to his pavilion without saying one word of what had happened, gave orders that the tents should be struck, and everything made ready for his journey.  All was speedily prepared, and before day he began his march, with kettle-drums and other instruments of music, that filled everyone with joy, excepting the king; he was so much afflicted by the disloyalty of his wife, that he was seized with extreme melancholy, which preyed upon his spirits during the whole of his journey.

When he drew near the capital of the Indies, the sultan Shier-ear and all his court came out to meet him.  The princes were overjoyed to see one another, and having alighted, after mutual embraces and other marks of affection and respect, remounted, and entered the city, amidst the acclamations of the people.  The sultan conducted his brother to the palace provided for him, which had a communication with his own by a garden.  It was so much the more magnificent as it was set apart as a banqueting-house for public entertainments, and other diversions of the court, and its splendour had been lately augmented by new furniture.

Shier-ear immediately left the king of Tartary, that he might give him time to bathe, and to change his apparel.  As soon as he had done, he returned to him again, and they sat down together on a sofa or alcove.  The courtiers out of respect kept at a distance, and the two princes entertained one another suitably to their friendship, their consanguinity, and their long separation.  The time of supper being come, they ate together, after which they renewed their conversation, which continued till Shier-ear, perceiving that it was very late, left his brother to repose.

The unfortunate Shaw-zummaun retired to bed.  Though the conversation of his brother had suspended his grief for some time, it returned again with increased violence; so that, instead of taking his necessary rest, he tormented himself with the bitterest reflections.  All the circumstances of his wife’s disloyalty presented themselves afresh to his imagination, in so lively a manner, that he was like one distracted being able to sleep, he arose, and abandoned himself to the most afflicting thoughts, which made such an impression upon his countenance, as it was impossible for the sultan not to observe.  “What,” said he, “can be the matter with the king of Tartary that he is so melancholy?  Has he any cause to complain of his reception?  No, surely; I have received him as a brother whom I love, so that I can charge myself with no omission in that respect.  Perhaps it grieves him to be at such a distance from his dominions, or from the queen his wife?  If that be the case, I must forthwith give him the presents I designed for him, that he may return to Samarcand.”  Accordingly the next day Shier-ear sent him part of those presents, being the greatest rarities and the richest things that the Indies could afford.  At the same time he endeavoured to divert his brother every day by new objects of pleasure, and the most splendid entertainments.  But these, instead of affording him ease, only increased his sorrow.

One day, Shier-ear having appointed a great hunting-match, about two days journey from his capital, in a place that abounded with deer, Shaw-zummaun besought him to excuse his attendance, for his health would not allow him to bear him company.  The sultan, unwilling to put any constraint upon him, left him at his liberty, and went a-hunting with his nobles.  The king of Tartary being thus left alone, shut himself up in his apartment, and sat down at a window that looked into the garden.  That delicious place, and the sweet harmony of an infinite number of birds, which chose it for their retreat, must certainly have diverted him, had he been capable of taking pleasure in anything; but being perpetually tormented with the fatal remembrance of his queen’s infamous conduct, his eyes were not so much fixed upon the garden, as lifted up to heaven to bewail his misfortune.

While he was thus absorbed in grief, a circumstance occurred which attracted the whole of his attention.  A secret gate of the sultan’s palace suddenly opened, and there came out of it twenty women, in the midst of whom walked the sultaness, who was easily distinguished from the rest by her majestic air.  This princess thinking that the king of Tartary was gone a-hunting with his brother the sultan, came with her retinue near the windows of his apartment.  For the prince had so placed himself that he could see all that passed in the garden without being perceived himself.  He observed, that the persons who accompanied the sultaness threw off their veils and long robes, that they might be more at their ease, but he was greatly surprised to find that ten of them were black men, and that each of these took his mistress.  The sultaness, on her part, was not long without her gallant.  She clapped her hands, and called “Masoud, Masoud,” and immediately a black descended from a tree, and ran towards her with great speed.

Modesty will not allow, nor is it necessary, to relate what passed between the blacks and the ladies.  It is sufficient to say, that Shaw-zummaun saw enough to convince him, that his brother was as much to be pitied as himself.  This amorous company continued together till midnight, and having bathed together in a great piece of water, which was one of the chief ornaments of the garden, they dressed themselves, and re-entered the palace by the secret door, all except Masoud, who climbed up his tree, and got over the garden wall as he had come in.

These things having passed in the king of Tartary’s sight, filled him with a multitude of reflections.  “How little reason had I,” said he, “to think that none was so unfortunate as myself?  It is surely the unavoidable fate of all husbands, since even the sultan my brother, who is sovereign of so-many dominions, and the greatest prince of the earth, could not escape.  Such being the case, what a fool am I to kill myself with grief?  I am resolved that the remembrance of a misfortune so common shall never more disturb my peace.”

From that moment he forbore afflicting himself.  He called for his supper, ate with a better appetite than he had done since his leaving Samarcand, and listened with some degree of pleasure to the agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music that was appointed to entertain him while at table.

He continued after this very cheerful; and when he was informed that the sultan was returning, went to meet him, and paid him his compliments with great gaiety.  Shier-ear at first took no notice of this alteration.  He politely expostulated with him for not bearing him company, and without giving him time to reply, entertained him with an account of the great number of deer and other game they had killed, and the pleasure he had received in the chase.  Shaw-zummaun heard him with attention; and being now relieved from the melancholy which had before depressed his spirits, and clouded his talents, took up the conversation in his turn, and spoke a thousand agreeable and pleasant things to the sultan.

Shier-ear, who expected to have found him in the same state as he had left him, was overjoyed to see him so cheerful:  “Dear brother,” said he, “I return thanks to heaven for the happy change it has wrought in you during my absence.  I am indeed extremely rejoiced.  But I have a request to make to you, and conjure you not to deny me.”  “I can refuse you nothing,” replied the king of Tartary; “you may command Shaw-zummaun as you please:  speak, I am impatient to know what you desire of me.”  “Ever since you came to my court,” resumed Shier-ear, “I have found you immersed in a deep melancholy, and I have in vain attempted to remove it by different diversions.  I imagined it might be occasioned by your distance from your dominions, or that love might have a great share in it; and that the queen of Samarcand, who, no doubt, is an accomplished beauty, might be the cause.  I do not know whether I am mistaken in my conjecture; but I must own, that it was for this very reason I would not importune you upon the subject, for fear of making you uneasy.  But without myself contributing anything towards effecting the change, I find on my return that your mind is entirely delivered from the black vapour which disturbed it.  Pray do me the favour to tell me why you were so melancholy, and wherefore you are no longer so.”

The king of Tartary continued for some time as if he had been meditating and contriving what he should answer; but at last replied, “You are my sultan and master; but excuse me, I beseech you, from answering your question.”  “No, dear brother,” said the sultan, “you must answer me, I will take no denial.”  Shaw-zummaun, not being able to withstand these pressing entreaties, replied, “Well then, brother, I will satisfy you, since you command me;” and having told him the story of the queen of Samarcand’s treachery “This,” said he, “was the cause of my grief; judge whether I had not sufficient reason for my depression.”

“O! my brother,” said the sultan, (in a tone which shewed what interest he took in the king of Tartary’s affliction), “what a horrible event do you tell me!  I commend you for punishing the traitors who offered you such an outrage.  None can blame you for what you have done.  It was just; and for my part, had the case been mine, I should scarcely have been so moderate.  I could not have satisfied myself with the life of one woman; I should have sacrificed a thousand to my fury.  I now cease to wonder at your melancholy.  The cause was too afflicting and too mortifying not to overwhelm you.  O heaven! what a strange adventure!  Nor do I believe the like ever befell any man but yourself.  But I must bless God, who has comforted you; and since I doubt not but your consolation is well-grounded, be so good as to inform me what it is, and conceal nothing from me.”  Shaw-zummaun was not so easily prevailed upon in this point as he had been in the other, on his brother’s account.  But being obliged to yield to his pressing instances, answered, “I must obey you then, since your command is absolute, yet I am afraid that my obedience will occasion your trouble to be greater than my own.  But you must blame yourself, since you force me to reveal what I should otherwise have buried in eternal Oblivion.”  “What you say,” answered Shier-ear, “serves only to increase my curiosity.  Discover the secret, whatever it be.”  The king of Tartary being no longer able to refuse, related to him the particulars of the blacks in disguise, of the ungoverned passion of the sultaness, and her ladies; nor did he forget Masoud.  After having been witness to these infamous actions, he continued, “I believed all women to be naturally lewd; and that they could not resist their inclination.  Being of this opinion, it seemed to me to be in men an unaccountable weakness to place any confidence in their fidelity.  This reflection brought on many others; and in short, I thought the best thing I could do was to make myself easy.  It cost me some pains indeed, but at last I grew reconciled; and if you will take my advice, you will follow my example.”

Though the advice was good, the sultan could not approve of it, but fell into a rage.  “What!” said he, “is the sultaness of the Indies capable of prostituting herself in so base a manner!  No, brother, I cannot believe what you state unless I beheld it with my own eyes.  Yours must needs have deceived you; the matter is so important that I must be satisfied of it myself.”  “Dear brother,” answered Shaw-zummaun, “that you may without much difficulty.  Appoint another hunting-match, and when we are out of town with your court and mine, we will rest under our tents, and at night let you and I return unattended to my apartments.  I am certain the next day you will see a repetition of the scene.”  The sultan approving the stratagem, immediately appointed another hunting-match.  And that same day the tents were pitched at the place appointed.

The next day the two princes set out with all their retinue; they arrived at the place of encampment, and stayed there till night.  Shier-ear then called his grand vizier, and, without acquainting him with his design, commanded him during his absence to suffer no person to quit the camp on any presence whatever.  As soon as he had given this order, the king of Grand Tartary and he took horse, passed through the camp incognito, returned to the city, and went to Shaw-zummaun’s apartment.  They had scarcely placed themselves in the window whence the king of Tartary had beheld the scene of the disguised blacks, when the secret gate opened, the sultaness and her ladies entered the garden with the blacks, and she having called to Masoud, the sultan saw more than enough fully to convince him of his dishonour and misfortune.

“Oh heavens!” he exclaimed, “what indignity!  What horror!  Can the wife of a sovereign be capable of such infamous conduct?  After this, let no prince boast of being perfectly happy.  Alas! my brother,” continued he, embracing the king of Tartery, “let us both renounce the world, honour is banished out of it; if it flatter us one day, it betrays us the next.  Let us abandon our dominions, and go into foreign countries, where we may lead an obscure life, and conceal our misfortunes.”  Shaw-zummaun did not at all approve of this plan, but did not think fit to contradict Shierear in the heat of his passion.  “Dear brother,” he replied, “your will shall be mine.  I am ready to follow you whithersoever you please:  but promise me that you will return, if we meet with any one more unhappy than ourselves.”  “To this I agree,” said the sultan, “but doubt much whether we shall.”  “I am not of your opinion in this,” replied the king of Tartary; “I fancy our journey will be but short.”  Having thus resolved, they went secretly out of the palace.  They travelled as long as day-light continued; and lay the first night under trees.  They arose about break of day, went on till they came to a fine meadow on the seashore, that was be-sprinkled with large trees They sat down under one of them to rest and refresh themselves, and the chief subject of their conversation was the infidelity or their wives.

They had not rested long, before they heard a frightful noise from the sea, and a terrible cry, which filled them with fear.  The sea then opened, and there arose something like a great black column, which reached almost to the clouds.  This redoubled their terror, made them rise with haste, and climb up into a tree to bide themselves.  They had scarcely got up, when looking to the place from whence the noise proceeded, and where the sea had opened, they observed that the black column advanced, winding about towards the shore, cleaving the water before it.  They could not at first think what this could mean, but in a little time they found that it was one of those malignant genies that are mortal enemies to mankind, and are always doing them mischief.  He was black and frightful, had the shape of a giant, of a prodigious stature, and carried on his head a large glass box, fastened with four locks of fine steel.  He entered the meadow with his burden, which he laid down just at the foot of the tree where the two princes were concealed, who gave themselves over as lost.  The genie sat down by his box, and opening it with four keys that he had at his girdle, there came out a lady magnificently appareled, of a majestic stature, and perfect beauty.  The monster made her sit down by him, and eyeing her with an amorous look, said, “Lady, nay, most accomplished of all ladies who are admired for their beauty, my charming mistress, whom I carried off on your wedding-day, and have loved so constantly ever since, let me sleep a few moments by you; for I found myself so very drowsy that I came to this place to take a little rest.”  Having spoken thus, he laid down his huge head upon the lady’s knees, and stretching out his legs, which reached as far as the sea, he fell asleep presently, and snored so loud that he made the shores echo.

The lady happening at this time to look up, saw the two princes in the tree, and made a sign to them with her hand to come down without making any noise.  Their fear was extreme when they found themselves discovered, and they prayed the lady, by other signs, to excuse them.  But she, after having laid the monster’s head softly on the ground, rose up and spoke to them, with a low but eager voice, to come down to her; she would take no denial.  They informed her by signs that they were afraid of the genie, and would fain have been excused.  Upon which she ordered them to come down, and threatened if they did not make haste, to awaken the genie, and cause him to put them to death.

These words so much intimidated the princes, that they began to descend with all possible precaution lest they should awake the genie.  When they had come down, the lady took them by the hand, and going a little farther with them under the trees, made them a very urgent proposal.  At first they rejected it, but she obliged them to comply by her threats.  Having obtained what she desired, she perceived that each of them had a ring on his finger, which she demanded.  As soon as she had received them, she pulled out a string of other rings, which she shewed the princes, and asked them if they knew what those jewels meant?  “No,” said they, “we hope you will be pleased to inform us.”  “These are,” she replied, “the rings of all the men to whom I have granted my favours.  There are fourscore and eighteen, which I keep as memorials of them; and I asked for yours to make up the hundred.  So that I have had a hundred gallants already, notwithstanding the vigilance of this wicked genie, who never leaves me.  He may lock me up in this glass box and hide me in the bottom of the sea; but I find methods to elude his vigilance.  You may see by this, that when a woman has formed a project, there is no husband or lover that can prevent her from putting it in execution.  Men had better not put their wives under such restraint, as it only serves to teach them cunning.”  Having spoken thus to them, she put their rings on the same string with the rest, and sitting down by the monster, as before, laid his head again upon her lap, end made a sign to the princes to depart.

They returned immediately the way they had come, and when they were out of sight of the lady and the genie Shier-ear said to Shaw-zummaun “Well, brother, what do you think of this adventure?  Has not the genie a very faithful mistress?  And do you not agree that there is no wickedness equal to that of women?” “Yes, brother,” answered the king of Great Tartary; “and you must also agree that the monster is more unfortunate, and more to be pitied than ourselves.  Therefore, since we have found what we sought for, let us return to our dominions, and let not this hinder us from marrying.  For my part, I know a method by which to preserve the fidelity of my wife inviolable.  I will say no more at present, but you will hear of it in a little time, and I am sure you will follow my example.”  The sultan agreed with his brother; and continuing their journey, they arrived in the camp the third night after their departure.

The news of the sultan’s return being spread, the courtiers came betimes in the morning before his pavilion to wait his pleasure.  He ordered them to enter, received them with a more pleasant air than he had formerly done, and gave each of them a present.  After which, he told them he would go no farther, ordered them to take horse, and returned with expedition to his palace.

As soon as he arrived, he proceeded to the sultaness’s apartment, commanded her to be bound before him, and delivered her to his grand vizier, with an order to strangle her, which was accordingly executed by that minister, without inquiring into her crime.  The enraged prince did not stop here, but cut off the heads of all the sultaness’s ladies with his own hand.  After this rigorous punishment, being persuaded that no woman was chaste, he resolved, in order to prevent the disloyalty of such as he should afterwards marry, to wed one every night, and have her strangled next morning.  Having imposed this cruel law upon himself, he swore that he would put it in force immediately after the departure of the king of Tartary, who shortly took leave of him, and being laden with magnificent presents, set forward on his journey.

Shaw-zummaun having departed, Shier-ear ordered his grand vizier to bring him the daughter of one of his generals.  The vizier obeyed.  The sultan lay with her, and putting her next morning into his hands again in order to have her strangled, commanded him to provide him another the next night.  Whatever reluctance the vizier might feel to put such orders in execution, as he owed blind obedience to the sultan his master, he was forced to submit.  He brought him then the daughter of a subaltern, whom he also put to death the next day.  After her he brought a citizen’s daughter; and, in a word, there was every day a maid married, and a wife murdered.

The rumour of this unparalleled barbarity occasioned a general consternation in the city, where there was nothing but crying and lamentation.  Here, a father in tears, and inconsolable for the loss of his daughter; and there, tender mothers dreating lest their daughters should share the same fate, filling the air with cries of distress and apprehension.  So that, instead of the commendation and blessings which the sultan had hitherto received from his subjects, their mouths were now filled with imprecations.

The grand vizier who, as has been already observed, was the unwilling executioner of this horrid course of injustice, had two daughters, the elder called Scheherazade, and the younger Dinarzade.  The latter was highly accomplished; but the former possessed courage, wit, and penetration, infinitely above her sex.  She had read much, and had so admirable a memory, that she never forgot any thing she had read.  She had successfully applied herself to philosophy, medicine, history, and the liberal arts; and her poetry excelled the compositions of the best writers of her time.  Besides this, she was a perfect beauty, and all her accomplishments were crowned by solid virtue.

The vizier loved this daughter, so worthy of his affection.  One day, as they were conversing together, she said to him, “Father, I have one favour to beg of you, and most humbly pray you to grant it.”  “I will not refuse,” answered he, “provided it be just and reasonable.”  “For the justice of it,” resumed she, “there can be no question, and you may judge of this by the motive which obliges me to make the request.  I wish to stop that barbarity which the sultan exercises upon the families of this city.  I would dispel those painful apprehensions which so many mothers feel of losing their daughters in such a fatal manner.”  “Your design, daughter,” replied the vizier “is very commendable; but the evil you would remedy seems to me incurable.  How do you propose to effect your purpose?” “Father,” said Scheherazade, “since by your means the sultan makes every day a new marriage, I conjure you, by the tender affection you bear me, to procure me the honour of his bed.”  The vizier could not hear this without horror.  “O heaven!” he replied in a passion, “have you lost your senses, daughter, that you make such a dangerous request?  You know the sultan has sworn, that he will never lie above one night with the same woman, and to command her to be killed the next morning; would you then have me propose you to him?  Consider well to what your indiscreet zeal will expose you.”  “Yes, dear father,” replied the virtuous daughter, “I know the risk I run; but that does not alarm me.  If I perish, my death will be glorious; and if I succeed, I shall do my country an important service.”  “No, no,” said the vizier “whatever you may offer to induce me to let you throw yourself into such imminent danger, do not imagine that I will ever consent.  When the sultan shall command me to strike my poniard into your heart, alas!  I must obey; and what an employment will that be for a father!  Ah! if you do not dread death, at least cherish some fears of afflicting me with the mortal grief of imbuing my hands in your blood.”  “Once more father,” replied Scheherazade, “grant me the favour I solicit.”  “Your stubbornness,” resumed the vizier “will rouse my anger; why will you run headlong to your ruin?  They who do not foresee the end of a dangerous enterprise can never conduct it to a happy issue.  I am afraid the same thing will happen to you as befell the ass, which was well off, but could not remain so.”  “What misfortune befell the ass?” demanded Scheherazade.  “I will tell you,” replied the vizier, “if you will hear me.”

The Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer.

A very wealthy merchant possessed several country-houses, where he kept a large number of cattle of every kind.  He retired with his wife and family to one of these estates, in order to improve it under his own direction.  He had the gift of understanding the language of beasts, but with this condition, that he should not, on pain of death, interpret it to any one else.  And this hindered him from communicating to others what he learned by means of this faculty.

He kept in the same stall an ox and an ass.  One day as he sat near them, and was amusing himself in looking at his children who were playing about him, he heard the ox say to the ass, “Sprightly, O! how happy do I think you, when I consider the ease you enjoy, and the little labour that is required of you.  You are carefully rubbed down and washed, you have well-dressed corn, and fresh clean water.  Your greatest business is to carry the merchant, our master, when he has any little journey to make, and were it not for that you would be perfectly idle.  I am treated in a very different manner, and my condition is as deplorable as yours is fortunate.  Daylight no sooner appears than I am fastened to a plough, and made to work till night, which so fatigues me, that sometimes my strength entirely fails.  Besides, the labourer, who is always behind me, beats me continually.  By drawing the plough, my tail is all flayed; and in short, after having laboured from morning to night, when I am brought in they give me nothing to eat but sorry dry beans, not so much as cleansed from dirt, or other food equally bad; and to heighten my misery, when I have filled my belly with such ordinary stuff, I am forced to lie all night in my own dung:  so that you see I have reason to envy your lot.”

The ass did not interrupt the ox; but when he had concluded, answered, “They that called you a foolish beast did not lie.  You are too simple; you suffer them to conduct you whither they please, and shew no manner of resolution.  In the mean time, what advantage do you reap from all the indignities you suffer.  You kill yourself for the ease, pleasure, and profit of those who give you no thanks for your service.  But they would not treat you so, if you had as much courage as strength.  When they come to fasten you to the stall, why do you not resist? why do you not gore them with your horns, and shew that you are angry, by striking your foot against the ground?  And, in short, why do not you frighten them by bellowing aloud?  Nature has furnished you with means to command respect; but you do not use them.  They bring you sorry beans and bad straw; eat none of them, only smell and then leave them.  If you follow my advice, you will soon experience a change, for which you will thank me.”

The ox took the ass’s advice in very good part, and owned he was much obliged to him.  “Dear Sprightly,” added he, “I will not fail to do as you direct, and you shall see how I will acquit myself.”  Here ended their conversation, of which the merchant lost not a word.

Early the next morning the labourer went for the ox.  He fastened him to the plough and conducted him to his usual work.  The ox, who had not forgotten the ass’s counsel, was very troublesome and untowardly all that day, and in the evening, when the labourer brought him back to the stall, and began to fasten him, the malicious beast instead of presenting his head willingly as he used to do, was restive, and drew back bellowing; and then made at the labourer, as if he would have gored him with his horns.  In a word, he did all that the ass had advised him.  The day following, the labourer came as usual, to take the ox to his labour; but finding the stall full of beans, the straw that he had put in the night before not touched, and the ox lying on the ground with his legs stretched out, and panting in a strange manner, he believed him to be unwell, pitied him, and thinking that it was not proper to take him to work, went immediately and acquainted his master with his condition.  The merchant perceiving that the ox had followed all the mischievous advice of the ass, determined to punish the latter, and accordingly ordered the labourer to go and put him in the ox’s place, and to be sure to work him hard.  The labourer did as he was desired.  The ass was forced to draw the plough all that day, which fatigued him so much the more, as he was not accustomed to that kind of labour; besides he had been so soundly beaten, that he could scarcely stand when he came back.

Meanwhile, the ox was mightily pleased; he ate up all that was in his stall, and rested himself the whole day.  He rejoiced that he had followed the ass’s advice, blessed him a thousand times for the kindness he had done him, and did not fail to express his obligations when the ass had returned.  The ass made no reply, so vexed was he at the ill treatment he had received; but he said within himself, “It is by my own imprudence I have brought this misfortune upon myself.  I lived happily, every thing smiled upon me; I had all that I could wish; it is my own fault that I am brought to this miserable condition; and if I cannot contrive some way to get out of it, I am certainly undone.”  As he spoke, his strength was so much exhausted that he fell down in his stall, as if he had been half dead.

Here the grand vizier, himself to Scheherazade, and said, “Daughter, you act just like this ass; you will expose yourself to destruction by your erroneous policy.  Take my advice, remain quiet, and do not seek to hasten your death.”  “Father,” replied Scheherazade, “the example you have set before me will not induce me to change my resolution.  I will never cease importuning you until you present me to the sultan as his bride.”  The vizier, perceiving that she persisted in her demand, replied, “Alas! then, since you will continue obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you in the same manner as the merchant whom I before referred to treated his wife a short time after.”

The merchant understanding that the ass was in a lamentable condition, was desirous of knowing what passed between him and the ox, therefore after supper he went out by moonlight, and sat down by them, his wife bearing him company.  After his arrival, he heard the ass say to the ox “Comrade, tell me, I pray you, what you intend to do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat?” “What will I do?” replied the ox, “I will continue to act as you taught me.  I will draw back from him and threaten him with my horns, as I did yesterday:  I will feign myself ill, and at the point of death.”  “Beware of that,” replied the ass, “it will ruin you; for as I came home this evening, I heard the merchant, our master, say something that makes me tremble for you.”  “Alas! what did you hear?” demanded the ox; “as you love me, withhold nothing from me, my dear Sprightly.”  “Our master,” replied the ass, “addressed himself thus to the labourer:  Since the ox does not eat, and is not able to work, I would have him killed to-morrow, and we will give his flesh as an alms to the poor for God’s sake, as for the skin, that will be of use to us, and I would have you give it the currier to dress; therefore be sure to send for the butcher.’  This is what I had to tell you,” said the ass.  “The interest I feel in your preservation, and my friendship for you, obliged me to make it known to you, and to give you new advice.  As soon as they bring you your bran and straw, rise up and eat heartily.  Our master will by this think that you are recovered, and no doubt will recall his orders for killing you; but, if you act otherwise, you will certainly be slaughtered.”

This discourse had the effect which the ass designed.  The ox was greatly alarmed, and bellowed for fear.  The merchant, who heard the conversation very attentively, fell into a loud fit of laughter.  His wife was greatly surprised, and asked, “Pray, husband, tell me what you laugh at so heartily, that I may laugh with you.”  “Wife,” replied he, “you must content yourself with hearing me laugh.”  “No,” returned she, “I will know the reason.”  “I cannot afford you that satisfaction,” he, “and can only inform you that I laugh at what our ass just now said to the ox.  The rest is a secret, which I am not allowed to reveal.”  “What,” demanded she “hinders you from revealing the secret?” “If I tell it you,” replied he, “I shall forfeit my life.”  “You only jeer me,” cried his wife, “what you would have me believe cannot be true.  If you do not directly satisfy me as to what you laugh at, and tell me what the ox and the ass said to one another, I swear by heaven that you and I shall never bed together again.”

Having spoken thus, she went into the house, and seating herself in a corner, cried there all night.  Her husband lay alone, and finding next morning that she continued in the same humour, told her, she was very foolish to afflict herself in that manner; that the thing was not worth so much; that it concerned her very little to know while it was of the utmost consequence to him to keep the secret:  “therefore,” continued he, “I conjure you to think no more of it.”  “I shall still think so much of it,” replied she, “as never to forbear weeping till you have satisfied my curiosity.”  “But I tell you very seriously,” answered he, “that it will cost me my life if I yield to your indiscreet solicitations.”  “Let what will happen,” said she, “I do insist upon it.”  “I perceive,” resumed the merchant, “that it is impossible to bring you to reason, and since I foresee that you will occasion your own death by your obstinacy, I will call in your children, that they may see you before you die.”  Accordingly he called for them, and sent for her father and mother, and other relations.  When they were come and had heard the reason of their being summoned, they did all they could to convince her that she was in the wrong, but to no purpose:  she told them she would rather die than yield that point to her husband.  Her father and mother spoke to her by herself, and told her that what she desired to know was of no importance to her; but they could produce no effect upon her, either by their authority or intreaties.  When her children saw that nothing would prevail to draw her out of that sullen temper, they wept bitterly.  The merchant himself was half frantic, and almost ready to risk his own life to save that of his wife, whom he sincerely loved.

The merchant had fifty hens and one cock, with a dog that gave good heed to all that passed.  While the merchant was considering what he had best do, he saw his dog run towards the cock as he was treading a hen, and heard him say to him:  “Cock, I am sure heaven will not let you live long; are you not ashamed to ad thus to-day?” The cock standing up on tiptoe, answered fiercely:  “And why not to-day as well as other days?” “If you do not know,” replied the dog, “then I will tell you, that this day our master is in great perplexity.  His wife would have him reveal a secret which is of such a nature, that the disclosure would cost him his life.  Things are come to that pass, that it is to be feared he will scarcely have resolution enough to resist his wife’s obstinacy; for he loves her, and is affected by the tears she continually sheds.  We are all alarmed at his situation, while you only insult our melancholy, and have the impudence to divert yourself with your hens.”

The cock answered the dog’s reproof thus:  “What, has our master so little sense? he has but one wife, and cannot govern her, and though I have fifty, I make them all do what I please.  Let him use his reason, he will soon find a way to rid himself of his trouble.”  “How?” demanded the dog; “what would you have him do?” “Let him go into the room where his wife is,” resumed the cock, “lock the door, and take a stick and thrash her well; and I will answer for it, that will bring her to her senses, and make her forbear to importune him to discover what he ought not to reveal.”  The merchant had no sooner heard what the cock said, than he took up a stick, went to his wife, whom he found still crying, and shutting the door, belaboured her so soundly, that she cried out, “Enough, husband, enough, forbear, and I will never ask the question more.”  Upon this, perceiving that she repented of her impertinent curiosity, he desisted; and opening the door, her friends came in, were glad to find her cured of her obstinacy, and complimented her husband upon this happy expedient to bring his wife to reason.

“Daughter,” added the grand vizier, “you deserve to be treated as the merchant treated his wife.”

“Father,” replied Scheherazade, “I beg you would not take it ill that I persist in my opinion.  I am nothing moved by the story of this woman.  I could relate many, to persuade you that you ought not to oppose my design.  Besides, pardon me for declaring, that your opposition is vain; for if your paternal affection should hinder you from granting my request, I will go and offer myself to the sultan.”  In short, the father, being overcome by the resolution of his daughter, yielded to her importunity, and though he was much grieved that he could not divert her from so fatal a resolution, he went instantly to acquaint the sultan, that next night he would bring him Scheherazade.

The sultan was much surprized at the sacrifice which the grand vizier proposed to make.  “How could you”, said he, “resolve to bring me your own daughter?” “Sir,” answered the vizier, “it is her own offer.  The sad destiny that awaits her could not intimidate her; she prefers the honour of being your majesty’s wile for one night, to her life.”  “But do not act under a mistake, vizier,” said the sultan; “to-morrow when I place Scheherazade in your hands, I expect you will put her to death; and if you fail, I swear that your own life shall answer.”  “Sir,” rejoined the vizier “my heart without doubt will be full of grief to execute your commands; but it is to no purpose for nature to murmur.  Though I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of my hand to obey your order.”  Shier-ear accepted his minister’s offer, and told him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.

The grand vizier went with the intelligence to Schcherazade, who received it with as much joy as if it had been the most agreeable information she could have received.  She thanked her father for having so greatly obliged her; and perceiving that he was overwhelmed with grief, told him for his consolation, that she hoped he would never repent of having married her to the sultan; and that, on the contrary, he should have reason to rejoice at his compliance all his days.

Her business now was to adorn herself to appear before the sultan; but before she went, she took her sister Dinarzade apart, and said to her, “My dear sister, I have need of your assistance in a matter of great importance, and must pray you not to deny it me.  My father is going to conduct me to the sultan; do not let this alarm you, but hear me with patience.  As soon as I am in his presence, I will pray him to allow you to lie in the bride-chamber, that I may enjoy your company this one night more.  If I obtain that favour, as I hope to do, remember to awake me to-morrow an hour before day, and to address me in these or some such words:  ’My sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you that till day-break, which will be very shortly, you will relate to me one of the entertaining stories of which you have read so many.’  I will immediately tell you one; and I hope by this means to deliver the city from the consternation it is under at present.”  Dinarzade answered that she would with pleasure act as she required her.

The grand vizier conducted Schcherazade to the palace, and retired, after having introduced her into the sultan’s apartment.  As soon as the sultan was left alone with her, he ordered her to uncover her face:  he found her so beautiful that he was perfectly charmed; but perceiving her to be in tears, demanded the reason.  “Sir,” answered Scheherazade, “I have a sister who loves me tenderly, and I could wish that she might be allowed to pass the night in this chamber, that I might see her, and once more bid her adieu.  Will you be pleased to allow me the consolation of giving her this last testimony of my affection?” Shier-ear having consented, Dinarzade was sent for, who came with all possible expedition.

An hour before day, Dinarzade failed not to do as her sister had ordered.  “My dear sister,” cried she, “if you be not asleep, I pray that until daybreak, which will be very shortly, you will tell me one of those pleasant stories you have read.  Alas! this may perhaps be the last time that I shall enjoy that pleasure.”

Scheherazade, instead of answering her sister, addressed herself to the sultan:  “Sir, will your majesty be pleased to allow me to afford my sister this satisfaction?” “With all my heart,” replied the sultan.  Scheherazade then bade her sister attend, and afterwards, addressing herself to Shier-ear, proceeded as follows.

The merchant and the genie.

There was formerly a merchant who possessed much property in lands, goods, and money, and had a great number of clerks, factors, and slaves.  He was obliged from time to time to visit his correspondents on business; and one day being under the necessity of going a long journey on an affair of importance, he took horse, and carried with him a wallet containing biscuits and dates, because he had a great desert to pass over, where he could procure no sort of provisions.  He arrived without any accident at the end of his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took horse again, in order to return home.

The fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the heat of the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth, that he turned out of the road, to refresh himself under some trees.  He found at the root of a large tree a fountain of very clear running water.  Having alighted, he tied his horse to a branch, and sitting down by the fountain, took some biscuits and dates out of his wallet.  As he ate his dates, he threw the shells carelessly in different directions.  When he had finished his repast, being a good Moosulmaun, he washed his hands, face, and feet, and said his prayers.  Before he had finished, and while he was yet on his knees, he saw a genie, white with age, and of a monstrous bulk, advancing towards him with a cimeter in his hand.  The genie spoke to him in a terrible voice:  “Rise, that I may kill thee with this cimeter, as thou hast killed my son;” and accompanied these words with a frightful cry.  The merchant being as much alarmed at the hideous shape of the monster as at his threatening language, answered him, trembling, “Alas! my good lord, of what crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should take away my life?” “I will,” replied the genie, “kill thee, as thou hast killed my son.”  “Heavens,” exclaimed the merchant, “how could I kill your son?  I never knew, never saw him.”  “Did not you sit down when you came hither?” demanded the genie:  “did you not take dates out of your wallet, and as you ate them, did not you throw the shells about in different directions?” “I did all that you say,” answered the merchant, “I cannot deny it.”  “If it be so,” resumed the genie, “I tell thee that thou hast killed my son; and in this manner:  When thou wert throwing the shells about, my son was passing by, and thou didst throw one into his eye, which killed him; therefore I must kill thee.”  “Ah! my lord! pardon me!” cried the merchant.  “No pardon,” exclaimed the genie, “no mercy.  Is it not just to kill him that has killed another?” “I agree it is,” replied the merchant, “but certainly I never killed your son; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did it innocently; I beg you therefore to pardon me, and suffer me to live.”  “No, no,” returned the genie, persisting in his resolution, “I must kill thee, since thou hast killed my son.”  Then taking the merchant by the arm, he threw him with his face on the ground, and lifted up his cimeter to cut off his head.

The merchant, with tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his wife and children, and supplicated the genie, in the most moving expressions.  The genie, with his cimeter still lifted up, had the patience to hear his unfortunate victims to the end of his lamentations, but would not relent.  “All this whining,” said the monster, “is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of blood, they should not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast killed my son.”  “What!” exclaimed the merchant, “can nothing prevail with you?  Will you absolutely take away the life of a poor innocent?” “Yes,” replied the genie, “I am resolved.”

As soon as she had spoken these words, perceiving it was day, and knowing that the sultan rose early in the morning to say his prayers, and hold his council, Scheherazade discontinued her story.  “Dear sister,” said Dinarzade, “what a wonderful story is this!” “The remainder of it,” replied Scheherazade “is more surprising, and you will be of this opinion, if the sultan will but permit me to live over this day, and allow me to proceed with the relation the ensuing night.”  Shier-ear, who had listened to Scheherazade with much interest, said to himself, “I will wait till to-morrow, for I can at any time put her to death when she has concluded her story.”  Having thus resolved not to put Scheherazade to death that day, he rose and went to his prayers, and to attend his council.

During this time the grand vizier was in the utmost distress.  Instead of sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans, bewailing the lot of his daughter, of whom he believed he should himself shortly be the executioner.  As, with this melancholy prospect before him, he dreaded to meet the sultan, he was agreeably surprised when he found the prince entered the council chamber without giving him the fatal orders he expected.

The sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating his affairs; and when the night had closed in, retired with Scheherazade.  The next morning before day, Dinarzade failed not to call to her sister:  “My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you till day-break, which is very near, to go on with the story you began last night.”  The sultan, without waiting for Scheherazade to ask his permission, bade her proceed with the story of the genie and the merchant; upon which Scheherazade continued her relation as follows. [FN:  In the original work Scheherazade continually breaks off to ask the sultan to spare her life for another day, that she may finish the story she is relating.  As these interruptions considerably interfere with the continued interest of the stories, it has been deemed advisable to omit them.]

When the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his head, he cried out aloud to him, “For heaven’s sake hold your hand!  Allow me one word.  Have the goodness to grant me some respite, to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide my estate among them by will, that they may not go to law after my death.  When I have done this, I will come back and submit to whatever you shall please to command.”  “But,” said the genie, “if I grant you the time you ask, I doubt you will never return?” “If you will believe my oath,” answered the merchant, “I swear by all that is sacred, that I will come and meet you here without fail.”  “What time do you require then?” demanded the genie.  “I ask a year,” said the merchant; “I cannot in less settle my affairs, and prepare myself to die without regret.  But I promise you, that this day twelve months I will return under these trees, to put myself into your hands.”  “Do you take heaven to be witness to this promise?” said the genie.  “I do,” answered the merchant, “and you may rely on my oath.”  Upon this the genie left him near the fountain, and disappeared.

The merchant being recovered from his terror, mounted his horse, and proceeded on his journey, glad on the one hand that he had escaped so great a danger, but grieved on the other, when he reflected on his fatal oath.  When he reached home, his wife and children received him with all the demonstrations of perfect joy.  But he, instead of returning their caresses, wept so bitterly, that his family apprehended something calamitous had befallen him.  His wife enquire reason of his excessive grief and tears; “We are all overjoyed,” said she, “at your return; but you alarm us by your lamentations; pray tell us the cause of your sorrow.”  “Alas!” replied the husband, “I have but a year to live.”  He then related what had passed betwixt him and the genie, and informed her that he had given him his oath to return at the end of the year, to receive death from his hands.

When they heard this afflicting intelligence, they all began to lament in the most distressing manner.  His wife uttered the most piteous cries, beat her face, and tore her hair.  The children, all in tears, made the house resound with their groans; and the father, not being able to resist the impulse of nature, mingled his tears with theirs:  so that, in a word, they exhibited the most affecting spectacle possible.

On the following morning the merchant applied himself to put his affairs in order; and first of all to pay his debts.  He made presents to his friends, gave liberal alms to the poor, set his slaves of both sexes at liberty, divided his property among his children, appointed guardians for such of them as were not of age; and after restoring to his wife all that was due to her by their marriage contract, he gave her in addition as much as the law would allow him.

At last the year expired, and he was obliged to depart.  He put his burial clothes in his wallet; but when he came to bid his wife and children adieu, their grief surpassed description.  They could not reconcile their minds to the separation, but resolved to go and die with him.  When, however, it became necessary for him to tear himself from these dear objects, he addressed them in the following terms:  “My dear wife and children, I obey the will of heaven in quitting you.  Follow my example, submit with fortitude to this necessity, and consider that it is the destiny of man to die.”  Having thus spoken, he went out of the hearing of the cries of his family; and pursuing his journey, arrived on the day appointed at the place where he had promised to meet the genie.  He alighted, and seating himself down by the fountain, waited the coming of the genie, with all the sorrow imaginable.  Whilst he languished under this painful expectation, an old man leading a hind appeared and drew near him.  After they had saluted one another, the old man said to him, “Brother, may I ask why you are come into this desert place, which is possessed solely by evil spirits, and where consequently you cannot be safe?  From the beautiful trees which are seen here, one might indeed suppose the place inhabited; but it is in reality a wilderness, where it is dangerous to remain long.”

The merchant satisfied his curiosity, and related to him the adventure which obliged him to be there.  The old man listened with astonishment, and when he had done, exclaimed, “This is the most surprising thing in the world! and you are bound by the most inviolable oath.  However, I will be witness of your interview with the genie.”  He then seated himself by the merchant, and they entered into conversation.

“But I see day,” said Scheherazade, “and must leave off; yet the best of the story is to come.”  The sultan resolving to hear the end of it, suffered her to live that day also.

The next morning Dinarzade made the same request to her sister as before:  “My dear sister,” said she, “if you be not asleep, tell me one of those pleasant stories that you have read.”  But the sultan, wishing to learn what followed betwixt the merchant and the genie, bade her proceed with that, which she did as follows.

Sir, while the merchant and the old man who led the hind were conversing, they saw another old man coming towards them, followed by two black dogs; after they had saluted one another, he asked them what they did in that place?  The old man with the hind told him the adventure of the merchant and genie, with all that had passed between them, particularly the merchant’s oath.  He added, that it was the day agreed on, and that he was resolved to stay and see the issue.

The second old man thinking it also worth his curiosity, resolved to do the same, and took his seat by them.  They had scarcely begun to converse together, when there arrived a third old man leading a mule.  He addressed himself to the two former, and asked why the merchant who sat with them looked so melancholy?  They told him the reason, which appeared to him so extraordinary, that he also resolved to witness the result; and for that purpose sat down with them.

In a short time they perceived a thick vapour, like a cloud of dust raised by a whirlwind, advancing towards them.  When it had come up to them it suddenly vanished, and the genie appeared; who, without saluting them, went to the merchant with a drawn cimeter, and taking him by the arm, said, “Get thee up, that I may kill thee, as thou didst my son.”  The merchant and the three old men began to lament and fill the air with their cries.

When the old man who led the hind saw the genie lay hold of the merchant, and about to kill him, he threw himself at the feet of the monster, and kissing them, said to him, “Prince of genies, I most humbly request you to suspend your anger, and do me the favour to hear me.  I will tell you the history of my life, and of the hind you see; and if you think it more wonderful and surprising than the adventure of the merchant, I hope you will pardon the unfortunate man a third of his offence.”  The genie took some time to deliberate on this proposal, but answered at last, “Well then, I agree.”

The Story of the First Old Man and the Hind.

I shall begin my story then; listen to me, I pray you, with attention.  This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more, my wife.  She was only twelve years of age when I married her, so that I may justly say, she ought to regard me equally as her father, her kinsman, and her husband.

We lived together twenty years, without any children.  Her barrenness did not effect any change in my love; I still treated her with much kindness and affection.  My desire of having children only induced me to purchase a slave, by whom I had a son, who was extremely promising.  My wife being jealous, cherished a hatred for both mother and child, but concealed her aversion so well, that I knew nothing of it till it was too late.

Mean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was obliged to undertake a long journey.  Before I went, I recommended to my wife, of whom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and prayed her to take care of them during my absence, which was to be for a whole year.  She however employed that time to satisfy her hatred.  She applied herself to magic, and when she had learnt enough of that diabolical art to execute her horrible design, the wretch carried my son to a desolate place, where, by her enchantments, she changed him into a calf, and gave him to my farmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him.  Her enmity did not stop at this abominable action, but she likewise changed the slave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.

At my return, I enquired for the mother and child.  “Your slave,” said she, “is dead; and as for your son, I know not what is become of him, I have not seen him this two months.”  I was afflicted at the death of the slave, but as she informed me my son had only disappeared, I was in hopes he would shortly return.  However, eight months passed, and I heard nothing of him.  When the festival of the great Bairam was to be celebrated, I sent to my farmer for one of the fattest cows to sacrifice.  He accordingly sent me one, and the cow which was brought me proved to be my slave, the unfortunate mother of my son.  I bound her, but as I was going to sacrifice her, she bellowed piteously, and I could perceive tears streaming from her eyes.  This seemed to me very extraordinary, and finding myself moved with compassion, I could not find in my heart to give her a blow, but ordered my farmer to get me another.

My wife, who was present, was enraged at my tenderness, and resisting an order which disappointed her malice, she cried out, “What are you doing, husband?  Sacrifice that cow; your farmer has not a finer, nor one fitter for the festival.”  Out of deference to my wife, I came again to the cow, and combating my compassion, which suspended the sacrifice, was going to give her the fatal blow, when the victim redoubling her tears, and bellowing, disarmed me a second time.  I then put the mallet into the farmer’s hands, and desired him to take it and sacrifice her himself, for her tears and bellowing pierced my heart.

The farmer, less compassionate than myself; sacrificed her; but when he flayed her, found her to be nothing except bones, though to she seemed very fat.  “Take her yourself,” said I to him, “dispose of her in alms, or any way you please:  and if you have a very fat calf, bring it me in her stead.”  I did not enquire what he did with the cow, but soon after he had taken her away, he returned with a fat calf.  Though I knew not the calf was my son, yet I could not forbear being moved at the sight of him.  On his part, as soon as he beheld me, he made so great an effort to come near me, that he broke his cord, threw himself at my feet, with his head against the ground, as if he meant to excite my compassion, conjuring me not to be so cruel as to take his life; and did as much as was possible for him, to signify that he was my son.

I was more surprised and affected with this action, than with the tears of the cow.  I felt a tender pity, which interested me on his behalf, or rather, nature did its duty.  “Go,” said I to the farmer, “carry home that calf, take great care of him, and bring me another in his stead immediately.”

As soon as my wife heard me give this order, she exclaimed, “What are you about, husband?  Take my advice, sacrifice no other calf but that.”  “Wife,” I replied, “I will not sacrifice him, I will spare him, and pray do not you oppose me.”  The wicked woman had no regard to my wishes; she hated my son too much to consent that I should save him.  I tied the poor creature, and taking up the fatal knife, was going to plunge it into my son’s throat, when turning his eyes bathed with tears, in a languishing manner, towards me, he affected me so much that I had not strength to kill him.  I let the knife fall, and told my wife positively that I would have another calf to sacrifice, and not that.  She used all her endeavours to persuade me to change my resolution; but I continued firm, and pacified her a little, by promising that I would sacrifice him against the Bairam of the following year.

The next morning my farmer desired to speak with me alone.  “I come,” said he, “to communicate to you a piece of intelligence, for which I hope you will return me thanks.  I have a daughter that has some skill in magic.  Yesterday, as I carried back the calf which you would not sacrifice, I perceived she laughed when she saw him, and in a moment after fell a weeping.  I asked her why she acted two such opposite parts at one and the same time. ‘rather,’ replied she, ’the calf you bring back is our landlord’s son; I laughed for joy to see him still alive, and wept at the remembrance of the sacrifice that was made the other day of his mother, who was changed into a cow.  These two metamorphoses were made by the enchantments of our master’s wife, who hated both the mother and son.’  This is what my daughter told me,” said the farmer, “and I come to acquaint you with it.”

I leave you to judge how much I was surprised.  I went immediately to my farmer, to speak to his daughter myself.  As soon as I arrived, I went forthwith to the stall where my son was kept; he could not return my embraces, but received them in such a manner, as fully satisfied me he was my son.

The farmer’s daughter then came to us:  “My good maid,” said I, “can you restore my son to his former shape?” “Yes,” she replied, “I can.”  “Ah!” said I, “if you do, I will make you mistress of all my fortune.”  She answered me, smiling, “You are our master, and I well know what I owe to you; but I cannot restore your son to his former shape, except on two conditions:  the first is, that you give him to me for my husband; and the second, that you allow me to punish the person who changed him into a calf.”  “As to the first,” I replied, “I agree with all my heart:  nay, I promise you more, a considerable fortune for yourself, independently of what I design for my son:  in a word, you shall see how I will reward the great service I expect from you.  As to what relates to my wife, I also agree; a person who has been capable of committing such a criminal action, justly deserves to be punished.  I leave her to your disposal, only I must pray you not to take her life.”  “I am going then,” answered she, “to treat her as she treated your son.”  “To this I consent,” said I, “provided you first of all restore to me my son.”

The damsel then took a vessel full of water, pronounced over it words that I did not understand, and addressing herself to the calf, “O calf, if thou west created by the almighty and sovereign master of the world such as thou appearest at this time, continue in that form; but if thou be a man, and art changed into a calf by enchantment, return to thy natural shape, by the permission of the sovereign Creator.”  As she spoke, she threw water upon him, and in an instant he recovered his natural form.

“My son, my dear son,” cried I, immediately embracing him with such a transport of joy that I knew not what I was doing, “it is heaven that hath sent us this young maid, to remove the horrible charm by which you were enchanted, and to avenge the injury done to you and your mother.  I doubt not but in acknowledgment you will make your deliverer your wife, as I have promised.”  He joyfully consented; but before they married, she changed my wife into a hind; and this is she whom you see here.  I desired she might have this shape, rather than another less agreeable, that we might see her in the family without horror.

Since that time, my son is become a widower, and gone to travel.  It being now several years since I heard of him, I am come abroad to inquire after him; and not being willing to trust anybody with my wife, till I should return home, I thought fit to take her everywhere with me.

“This is the history of myself and this hind:  is it not one of the most wonderful and surprising?” “I admit it is,” said the genie, “and on that account forgive the merchant one third of his crime.”

When the first old man had finished his story, the second, who led the two black dogs, addressed the genie, and said:  “I am going to tell you what happened to me, and these two black dogs you see by me; and I am certain you will say, that my story is yet more surprising than that which you have just heard.  But when I have done this, I hope you will be pleased to pardon the merchant another third of his offence.”  “I will,” replied the genie, “provided your story surpass that of the hind.”  Then the second old man began in this manner—

The Story of the Second old Man and the Two Black Dogs.

Great prince of genies, you must know that we are three brothers, the two black dogs and myself.  Our father, when he died, left each of us one thousand sequins.  With that sum, we all became merchants.  A little time after we had opened shop, my eldest brother, one of these two dogs, resolved to travel and trade in foreign countries.  With this view, he sold his estate, and bought goods suited to the trade intended to follow.

He went away, and was absent a whole year.  At the expiration of this time, a poor man, who I thought had come to ask alms, presented himself before me in my shop.  I said to him, “God help you.”  He returned my salutation, and continued, “Is it possible you do not know me?” Upon this I looked at him narrowly, and recognised him:  “Ah, brother,” cried I, embracing him, “how could I know you in this condition?” I made him come into my house, and asked him concerning his health and the success of his travels.  “Do not ask me that question,” said he; “when you see me, you see all:  it would only renew my grief, to relate to you the particulars of the misfortunes I have experienced since I left you, which have reduced me to my present condition.”

I immediately shut up my shop, and taking him to a bath, gave him the best clothes I had.  Finding on examining my books, that I had doubled my stock, that is to say, that I was worth two thousand sequins, I gave him one half; “With that,” said I, “brother, you may make up your loss.”  He joyfully accepted the present, and having repaired his fortunes, we lived together, as before.

Some time after, my second brother, who is the other of these two dogs, would also sell his estate.  His elder brother and myself did all we could to divert him from his purpose, but without effect.  He disposed of it, and with the money bought such goods as were suitable to the trade which he designed to follow.  He joined a caravan, and departed.  At the end of the year he returned in the same condition as my other brother.  Having myself by this time gained another thousand sequins, I made him a present of them.  With this sum he furnished his shop, and continued his trade.

Some time after, one of my brothers came to me to propose that I should join them in a trading voyage; I immediately declined.  “You have travelled,” said I, “and what have you gained by it?  Who can assure me, that I shall be more successful than you have been?” It was in vain that they urged open me all the considerations they thought likely to gain me over to their design, for I constantly refused; but after having resisted their solicitations five whole years, they importuned me so much, that at last they overcame my resolution.  When, however, the time arrived that we were to make preparations for our voyage, to buy the goods necessary to the undertaking, I found they had spent all, and had not one dirhem left of the thousand sequins I had given to each of them.  I did not, on this account, upbraid them.  On the contrary, my stock being still six thousand sequins, I shared the half of it with them, telling them, “My brothers, we must venture these three thousand sequins, and hide the rest in some secure place:  that in case our voyage be not more successful than yours was formerly, we may have wherewith to assist us, and to enable us to follow our ancient way of living.”  I gave each of them a thousand sequins, and keeping as much for myself, I buried the other three thousand in a corner of my house.  We purchased goods, and having embarked them on board a vessel, which we freighted betwixt us, we put to sea with a favourable wind.

After two months sail, we arrived happily at port, where we landed, and had a very good market for our goods.  I, especially, sold mine so well, that I gained ten to one.  With the produce we bought commodities of that country, to carry back with us for sale.

When we were ready to embark on our return, I met on the sea-shore a lady, handsome enough, but poorly clad.  She walked up to me gracefully, kissed my hand, besought me with the greatest earnestness imaginable to marry her, and take her along with me.  I made some difficulty to agree to this proposal; but she urged so many things to persuade me that I ought not to object to her on account of her poverty, and that I should have all the reason in the world to be satisfied with her conduct, that at last I yielded.  I ordered proper apparel to be made for her; and after having married her, according to form, I took her on board, and we set sail.  I found my wife possessed so many good qualities, that my love to her every day increased.  In the mean time my two brothers, who had not managed their affairs as successfully as I had mine, envied my prosperity; and suffered their feelings to carry them so far, that they conspired against my life; and one night, when my wife and I were asleep, threw us both into the sea.

My wife proved to be a fairy, and, by consequence, a genie, so that she could not be drowned; but for me, it is certain I must have perished, without her help.  I had scarcely fallen into the water, when she took me up, and carried me to an island.  When day appeared, she said to me, “You see, husband, that by saving your life, I have not rewarded you ill for your kindness to me.  You must know, that I am a fairy, and being upon the sea-shore, when you were going to embark, I felt a strong desire to have you for my husband; I had a mind to try your goodness, and presented myself before you in disguise.  You have dealt generously by me, and I am glad of an opportunity of returning my acknowledgment.  But I am incensed against your brothers, and nothing will satisfy me but their lives.”

I listened to this discourse with admiration; I thanked the fairy the best way I could, for the great kindness she had done me; “But, Madam,” said I, “as for my brothers, I beg you to pardon them; whatever cause of resentment they have given me, I am not cruel enough to desire their death.”  I then informed her what I had done for them, but this increased her indignation; and she exclaimed, “I must immediately pursue those ungrateful traitors, and take speedy vengeance on them.  I will destroy their vessel, and sink them into the bottom of the sea.”  “My good lady,” replied I, “for heaven’s sake forbear; moderate your anger, consider that they are my brothers, and that we ought to return good for evil.”

I pacified her by these words; and as soon as I had concluded, she transported me in a moment from the island to the roof of my own house, which was terraced, and instantly disappeared.  I descended, opened the doors, and dug up the three thousand sequins I had formerly secreted.  I went afterwards to my shop, which I also opened; and was complimented by the merchants, my neighbours, upon my return.  When I went back to my house, I perceived there two black dogs, which came up to me in a very submissive manner:  I could not divine the meaning of this circumstance, which greatly astonished me.  But the fairy, who immediately appeared, said, “Husband, be not surprised to see these dogs, they are your brothers.”  I was troubled at this declaration, and asked her by what power they were so transformed.  “I did it,” said she, “or at least authorised one of my sisters to do it, who at the same time sunk their ship.  You have lost the goods you had on board, but I will compensate you another way.  As to your two brothers, I have condemned them to remain five years in that shape.  Their perfidiousness too well deserves such a penance.”  Having thus spoken and told me where I might hear of her, she disappeared.

The five years being now nearly expired, I am travelling in quest of her; and as I passed this way, I met this merchant, and the good old man who led the hind, and sat down by them.  This is my history, O prince of genies! do not you think it very extraordinary?”

“I own it is,” replied the genie, “and on that account I remit the merchant the second third of the crime which he has committed against me.”

As soon as the second old man had finished, the third began his story, after repeating the request of the two former, that the genie would pardon the merchant the other third of his crime, provided what he should relate surpassed in singularity of incidents the narratives he had already heard.  The genie made him the same promise as he had given the others.

The third old man related his story to the genie; and it exceeded the two former stories so much, in the variety of wonderful adventures, that the genie was astonished; and no sooner heard the conclusion, than he said to the old man, “I remit the other third of the merchant’s crime on account of your story.  He is greatly obliged to all of you, for having delivered him out of his danger by what you have related, for to this he owes his life.”  Having spoken thus he disappeared, to the great contentment of the company.

The merchant failed not to make due acknowledgment to his deliverers.  They rejoiced to see him out of danger; and bidding him adieu, each of them proceeded on his way.  The merchant returned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his days with them in peace.

The story of the fisherman.

There was an aged fisherman, who was so poor, that he could scarcely as much as would maintain himself, his wife, and three children.  He went every day to fish betimes in the morning; and imposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four times a-day.  He went one morning by moon-light, and coming to the seaside, undressed himself, and cast in his nets.  As he drew them towards the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a good draught of fish, at which he rejoiced; but in a moment after, perceiving that instead of fish his nets contained nothing but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed.

When the fisherman had mended his nets, which the carcass of the ass had broken in several places, he threw them in a second time; and when he drew them, found a great deal of resistance, which made him think he had taken abundance of fish; but he found nothing except a basket full of gravel and slime, which grieved him extremely.  “O fortune!” cried he, with a lamentable tone, “be not angry with me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare him.  I came hither from my house to seek for my livelihood, and thou pronouncest against me a sentence of death.  I have no other trade but this to subsist by:  and notwithstanding all my care, I can scarcely provide what is absolutely necessary for my family.  But I am to blame to complain of thee; thou takest pleasure to persecute honest people, and to leave great men in obscurity, while thou shewest favour to the wicked, and advancest those who have no virtue to recommend them.”

Having finished this complaint, he fretfully threw away the basket, and washing his nets from the slime, cast them the third time; but brought up nothing, except stones, shells, and mud.  No language can express his disappointment; he was almost distracted.  However, when day began to appear, he did not forget to say his prayers, like a good Moosulmaun, and he added to them this petition:  “Lord, thou knowest that I cast my nets only four times a day; I have already drawn them three times, without the least reward for my labour:  I am only to cast them once more; I pray thee to render the sea favourable to me, as thou didst to Moses.”

The fisherman having finished this prayer, cast his nets the fourth time; and when he thought it was proper, drew them as formerly, with great difficulty; but instead of fish, found nothing in them but a vessel of yellow copper, which from its weight seemed not to be empty; and he observed that it was shut up and sealed with lead, having the impression of a seal upon it.  This turn of fortune rejoiced him; “I will sell it,” said he, “to the founder, and with the money buy a measure of corn.”  He examined the vessel on all sides, and shook it, to try if its contents made any noise, but heard nothing.  This circumstance, with the impression of the seal upon the leaden cover, made him think it inclosed something precious.  To try this, he took a knife, and opened it with very little labour.  He turned the mouth downward, but nothing came out; which surprised him extremely.  He placed it before him, but while he viewed it attentively, there came out a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or three paces back.

The smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the sea and upon the shore formed a great mist, which we may well imagine filled the fisherman with astonishment.  When the smoke was all out of the vessel, it re-united and became a solid body, of which was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of giants.  At the sight of a monster of such an unwieldy bulk, the fisherman would fain have fled, but was so frightened, that he could not move.

“Solomon,” cried the genie immediately, “Solomon, the great prophet, pardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I will obey all your commands.”

When the fisherman heard these words of the genie, he recovered his courage, and said to him, “Thou proud spirit, what is it you say?  It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon died, and we are now at the end of time.  Tell me your history, and how you came to be shut up in this vessel.”

The genie turning to the fisherman, with a fierce look, said.  “Thou must speak to me with more respect; thou art a presumptuous fellow to call me a proud spirit.”  “Very well,” replied the fisherman, “shall I speak to you more civilly, and call you the owl of good luck?” “I say,” answered the genie, “speak to me more respectfully, or I will kill thee.”  “Ah!” replied the fisherman, “why would you kill me?  Did I not just now set you at liberty, and have you already forgotten my services?” “Yes, I remember it,” said the genie, “but that shall not save thy life:  I have only one favour to grant thee.”  “And what is that?” asked the fisherman.  “It is,” answered the genie, “to give thee thy choice, in what manner thou wouldst have me put thee to death.”  “But wherein have I offended you?” demanded the fisherman.  “Is that your reward for the service I have rendered you?” “I cannot treat thee otherwise,” said the genie; “and that thou mayest know the reason, hearken to my story.”

“I am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of heaven; nearly all the other genies owned Solomon, the great prophet, and yielded to his authority.  Sabhir and I were the only two that would never be guilty of a mean submission:  and to avenge himself, that great monarch sent Asaph, the son of Barakhia, his chief minister, to apprehend me.  That was accordingly done.  Asaph seized my person, and brought me by force before his master’s throne.

“Solomon, the son of David, commanded me to acknowledge his power, and to submit to his commands:  I bravely refused, and told him, I would rather expose myself to his resentment, than swear fealty as he required.  To punish me, he shut me up in this copper vessel; and that I might not break my prison, he himself stamps upon this leaden cover, his seal with the great name of God engraver upon it.  He then gave the vessel to one of the genies who had submitted, with orders to throw me into the sea, which to my sorrow were executed.

“During the first hundred years of my imprisonment, I swore that if any one should deliver me before the expiration of that period, I would make him rich, even after his death:  but that century ran out, and nobody did me that good office.  During the second, I made an oath, that I would open all the treasures of the earth to any one that might set me at liberty; but with no better success.  In the third, I promised to make my deliverer a potent monarch, to be always near him in spirit, and to grant him every day three requests, of what nature soever they might be:  but this century passed as well as the two former, and I continued in prison.  At last being angry, or rather mad, to find myself a prisoner so long, I swore, that if afterwards any one should deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him no other favour but to choose the manner of his death; and therefore, since thou hast delivered me to-day, I give thee that choice.”

This discourse afflicted the fisherman extremely:  “I am very unfortunate,” cried he, “to come hither to do such a kindness to one that is so ungrateful.  I beg you to consider your injustice, and revoke such an unreasonable oath; pardon me, and heaven will pardon you; if you grant me my life, heaven will protest you from all attempts against your own.”  “No, thy death is resolved on,” said the genie, “only choose in what manner you will die.”  The fisherman perceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely grieved, not so much for himself, as on account of his three children; and bewailed the misery they must be reduced to by his death.  He endeavoured still to appease the genie, and said, “Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in consideration of the service I have done you.”  “I have told thee already,” replied the genie, “it is for that very reason I must kill thee.”  “That is strange,” said the fisherman, “are you resolved to reward good with evil?  The proverb says, ’That he who does good to one who deserves it not is always ill rewarded.’  I must confess, I thought it was false; for certainly there can be nothing more contrary to reason, or the laws of society.  Nevertheless, I find now by cruel experience that it is but too true.”  “Do not lose time,” interrupted the genie; “all thy reasonings shall not divert me from my purpose:  make haste, and tell me what kind of death thou preferest?”

Necessity is the mother of invention.  The fisherman bethought himself of a stratagem.  “Since I must die then,” said he to the genie, “I submit to the will of heaven; but before I choose the manner of my death, I conjure you by the great name which was engraver upon the seal of the prophet Solomon, the son of David, to answer me truly the question I am going to ask you.”

The genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this adjuration, trembled; and replied to the fisherman, “Ask what thou wilt, but make haste.”

The fisherman then said to him, “I wish to know if you were actually in this vessel:  Dare you swear it by the name of the great God?” “Yes,” replied the genie, “I do swear by that great name, that I was.”  “In good faith,” answered the fisherman, “I cannot believe you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of your size, and how should it be possible that your whole body should lie in it?” “I swear to thee, notwithstanding,” replied the genie, “that I was there just as you see me here:  Is it possible, that thou cost not believe me after the solemn oath I have taken?” “Truly not I,” said the fisherman; “nor will I believe you, unless you go into the vessel again.”

Upon which the body of the genie dissolved and changed itself into smoke, extending as before upon the sea shore; and at last, being collected, it began to re-enter the vessel, which it continued to do by a slow and equal motion, till no part remained out; when immediately a voice came forth, which said to the fisherman, “Well now, incredulous fellow, I am in the vessel, do not you believe me now?”

The fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of lead, and having speedily replaced it on the vessel, “Genie,” cried he, “now it is your turn to beg my favour, and to choose which way I shall put you to death; but not so, it is better that I should throw you into the sea, whence I took you:  and then I will build a house upon the shore, where I will reside and give notice to all fishermen who come to throw in their nets, to beware of such a wicked genie as thou art, who hast made an oath to kill him that shall set thee at liberty.”

The genie, enraged at these expressions, struggled to set himself at liberty; but it was impossible, for the impression of Solomon’s seal prevented him.  Perceiving that the fisherman had got the advantage of him, for he thought fit to dissemble his anger; “Fishermen,” said he, “take heed you do not what you threaten; for what I spoke to you was only by way of jest.”  “O genie!” replied the fisherman, “thou who wast but a moment ago the greatest of all genies, and now art the least of them, thy crafty discourse will signify nothing, to the sea thou shalt return.  If thou hast been there already so long as thou hast told me, thou may’st very well stay there till the day of judgment.  I begged of thee in God’s name not to take away my life, and thou didst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same manner.”

The genie omitted nothing that he thought likely to prevail with the fisherman:  “Open the vessel,” said he, “give me my liberty, and I promise to satisfy thee to thy own content.”  “Thou art a traitor,” replied the fisherman, “I should deserve to lose my life, if I were such a fool as to trust thee:  thou wilt not fail to treat me in the same manner as a certain Grecian king treated the physician Douban.  It is a story I have a mind to tell thee, therefore listen to it.”

The Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban.

There was in the country of Yunaun or Greece, a king who was leprous, and his physicians had in vain endeavoured his cure; when a very able physician, named Douban, arrived at his court.

This physician had learnt the theory of his profession in Greek, Persian, Turkish, Arabic, Latin, Syriac, and Hebrew books; he was an experienced natural philosopher, and fully understood the good and bad qualities of plants and drugs.  As soon as he was informed of the king’s distemper, and understood that his physicians had given him over, he found means to present himself before him.  “I know,” said he, after the usual ceremonials, “that your majesty’s physicians have not been able to heal you of the leprosy; but if you will accept my service, I will engage to cure you without potions, or external applications.”

The king listened to what he said, and answered, “If you be able to perform what you promise, I will enrich you and your posterity.  Do you assure me that you will cure my leprosy without potion, or applying any external medicine?” “Yes, Sire,” replied the physician, “I promise myself success, through God’s assistance, and to-morrow, with your majesty’s permission, I will make the trial.”

The physician returned to his quarters, made a hollow mace, and at the handle he put in his drugs; he made also a ball in such a manner as suited his purpose, with which next morning he presented himself before the king, and falling down at his feet, kissed the ground.

The physician Douban rose up, and after a profound reverence, said to the king, he judged it meet that his majesty should take horse, and go to the place where he used to play at mall.  The king did so, and when he arrived there, the physician came to him with the mace, and said, “Exercise yourself with this mace, and strike the ball until you find your hands and body perspire.  When the medicine I have put up in the handle of the mace is heated with your hand, it will penetrate your whole body; and as soon as you perspire, you may leave off the exercise, for then the medicine will have had its effect.  Immediately on your return to your palace, go into the bath, and cause yourself to be well washed and rubbed; then retire to bed, and when you rise to-morrow you will find yourself cured.”

The king took the mace, and struck the ball, which was returned by his officers who played with him; he played so long, that his hands and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the medicine shut up in the handle of the mace had its operation, as the physician had said.  Upon this the king left off play, returned to his palace, entered the bath, and observed very exactly his physician had prescribed to him.

The next morning when he arose, he perceived with equal wonder and joy, that his leprosy was cured, and his body as clean as if it had never been affected.  As soon as he was dressed, he came into the hall of audience, where he ascended his throne, and shewed himself to his courtiers:  who, eager to know the success of the new medicine, came thither betimes, and when they saw the king perfectly cured, expressed great joy.  The physician Douban entering the hall, bowed himself before the throne, with his face to the ground.  The king perceiving him, made him sit down by his side, presented him to the assembly, and gave him all the commendation he deserved.  His majesty did not stop here:  but as he treated all his court that day, made him eat at his table alone with him.

The Grecian king was not satisfied with having admitted the physician Douban to his table, but caused him to be clad in a rich robe, ordered him two thousand pieces of gold, and thinking that he could never sufficiently acknowledge his obligations to him, continued every day to load him with new favours.  But this king had a vizier, who was avaricious, envious, and naturally capable of every kind of mischief.  He could not behold without envy the presents that were given to the physician, whose other merits had already begun to make him jealous, and he therefore resolved to lessen him in the king’s esteem.  To effect this, he went to the king, and told him in private, that he had some information of the greatest consequence to communicate.  The king having asked what it was?  “Sire,” said he, “it is highly dangerous for a monarch to confide in a man whose fidelity he has never tried.  Though you heap favours upon the physician Douban, your majesty does not know that he is a traitor, sent by your enemies to take away your life.”  “From whom,” demanded the king, “have you the suggestion which you dare pronounce?  Consider to whom you are speaking, and that you are advancing what I shall not easily believe.”  “Sire,” replied the vizier, “I am well informed of what I have had the honour to reveal to your majesty; therefore do not rest in dangerous security:  if your majesty be asleep, be pleased to awake; for I once more repeat, that the physician Douban left his native country, and came to settle himself at your court, for the sole purpose of executing the horrible design which I have intimated.”

“No, no, vizier,” interrupted the king; “I am certain, that this physician, whom you suspect to be a villain and a traitor, is one of the best and most virtuous of men.  You know by what medicine, or rather by what miracle, he cured me of my leprosy:  If he had had a design upon my life, why did he save me then?  He needed only to have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped it, as life was fast decaying.  Forbear then to fill me with unjust suspicions:  instead of listening to you, I tell you, that from this day forward I will give that great man a pension of a thousand pieces of gold per month for his life; nay, though I were to share with him all my riches and dominions, I should never pay him sufficiently for what he has done.  I perceive it to be his virtue that raises your envy; but do not think I will be unjustly prejudiced against him.  I remember too well what a vizier said to king Sinbad, his master, to prevent his putting to death the prince his son.”

What the Grecian king said about king Sinbad raised the vizier’s curiosity, who said, “I pray your majesty to pardon me, if I have the boldness to ask what the vizier of king Sinbad said to his master to divert him from putting the prince his son to death.”  The Grecian king had the condescension to satisfy him:  “That vizier,” said he, “after having represented to king Sinbad, that he ought to beware, lest on the accusation of a mother-in-law he should commit an action of which he might afterwards repent, told him this story.”

The Story of the Husband and the Parrot.

A certain man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved so dearly, that he could scarcely allow her to be out of his sight.  One day, some urgent affairs obliging him to go from home, he went to a place where all sorts of birds were sold, and bought a parrot, which not only spoke well, but could also give an account of every thing that was done in its presence.  He brought it in a cage to his house, desired his wife to put it in his chamber, and take care of it during his absence, and then departed.

On his return, he questioned the parrot concerning what had passed while he was from home, and the bird told him such things as gave him occasion to upbraid his wife.  She concluded some of her slaves had betrayed her, but all of them swore they had been faithful, and agreed that the parrot must have been the tell-tale.

Upon this, the wife began to devise how she might remove her husband’s jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on the parrot.  Her husband being gone another journey, she commanded a slave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill under the parrot’s cage; she ordered another to sprinkle water, in resemblance of rain, over the cage; and a third to move a looking-glass, backward and forward against a candle, before the parrot.  The slaves spent a great part of the night in doing what their mistress desired them, and acquitted themselves with much skill.

Next night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again about what had passed during his absence.  The bird answered, “Good master, the lightning, thunder, and rain so much disturbed me all night, that I cannot tell how much I suffered.”  The husband, who knew that there had been neither thunder, lightning, nor rain in the night, fancied that the parrot, not having spoken truth in this, might also have lied in the other relation; upon which he took it out of the cage, and threw it with so much force to the ground that he killed it.  Yet afterwards he understood from his neigbours, that the poor parrot had not deceived him in what it had stated of his wife’s base conduct, made him repent that he had killed it.

When the Grecian king had finished the story of the parrot, he added, “And you, vizier, because of the hatred you bear to the physician Douban, who never did you any injury, you would have me cut him off; but I will beware lest I should repent as the husband did after killing his parrot.”

The mischievous vizier was too desirous of effecting the ruin of the physician Douban to stop here.  “Sir,” said he, “the death of the parrot was but a trifle, and I believe his master did not mourn for him long:  but why should your fear of wronging an innocent man, hinder your putting this physician to death?  Is it not sufficient justification that he is accused of a design against your life?  When the business in question is to secure the life of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and it is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty.  But, Sir, this is not a doubtful case; the physician Douban has certainly a mind to assassinate you.  It is not envy which makes me his enemy; it is only my zeal, with the concern I have for preserving your majesty’s life, that makes me give you my advice in a matter of this importance.  If the accusation be false, I deserve to be punished in the same manner as a vizier formerly was.”  “What had the vizier done,” demands the Grecian king, “to deserve punishment?” “I will inform your majesty,” said the vizier, “if you will be pleased to hear me.”

The Story of the Vizier that was Punished.

There was a king who had a son that loved hunting.  He allowed him to pursue that diversion often; but gave orders to his grand vizier always to attend him.

One hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince, who thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and with so much earnestness, that he separated himself from the company.  Perceiving he had lost his way he stopped, and endeavoured to return to the vizier; but not knowing the country he wandered farther.

Whilst he was thus riding about, he met on his way a handsome lady, who wept bitterly.  He stopped his horse, and enquired who she was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what she wanted.  “I am,” replied she, “the daughter of an Indian king.  As I was taking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy, and fell from my horse, who is run away, and I know not what is become of him.”  The young prince taking compassion on her, requested her to get up behind him, which she willingly did.

As they were passing by the ruins of a house, the lady expressed a desire to alight.  The prince stopped, and having put her down, dismounted himself, and went near the building, leading his horse after him.  But you may judge how much he was surprised, when he heard the pretended lady utter these words:  “Be glad, my children, I bring you a young man for your repast;” and other voices, which answered immediately, “Where is he, for we are very hungry?”

The prince heard enough to convince him of his danger.  He perceived that the lady, who called herself the daughter of an Indian king, was one of those savage demons, called Gholes, who live in desolated places, and employ a thousand wiles to surprise passengers, whom they afterwards devour.  The prince instantly remounted his horse, and luckily escaped.

The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving she had missed her prey, exclaimed, “Fear nothing, prince:  Who are you?  Whom do you seek?” “I have lost my way,” replied he, “and am endeavouring to find it.”  “If you have lost your way,” said she, “recommend yourself to God, he will deliver you out of your perplexity.”

After the counterfeit Indian princess had bidden the young prince recommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke sincerely, but thought herself sure of him; and therefore lifting up his hands to heaven, said, “Almighty Lord, cast shine eyes upon me, and deliver me from this enemy.”  After this prayer, the ghole entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all possible haste.  He happily found his way, and arrived safe at the court of his father, to whom he gave a particular account of the danger he had been in through the vizier’s neglect:  upon which the king, being incensed against that minister, ordered him to be immediately strangled.

“Sir,” continued the Grecian king’s vizier, “to return to the physician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put in him will be fatal to you; I am very well assured that he is a spy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty’s life.  He has cured you, you will say:  but alas! who can assure you of that?  He has perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who knows but the medicine he has given you, may in time have pernicious effects?”

The Grecian king was not able to discover the wicked design of his vizier, nor had he firmness enough to persist in his first opinion.  This discourse staggered him:  “Vizier,” said he, “thou art in the right; he may be come on purpose to take away my life, which he may easily do by the smell of his drugs.”

When the vizier found the king in such a temper as he wished, “Sir,” said he, “the surest and speediest method you can take to secure your life, is to send immediately for the physician Douban, and order his head to be struck off.”  “In truth,” said the king, “I believe that is the way we must take to frustrate his design.”  When he had spoken thus, he called for one of his officers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who, knowing nothing of the king’s purpose, came to the palace in haste.

“Knowest thou,” said the king, when he saw him, “why I sent for thee?” “No, Sir,” answered he; “I wait till your majesty be pleased to inform me.”  “I sent for thee,” replied the king, “to rid myself of thee, by taking away thy life.”

No man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard the sentence of death pronounced against him.  “Sir,” said he, “why would your majesty take my life?  What crime have I committed?” “I am informed,” replied the king, “that you came to my court only to attempt my life; but to prevent you, I will be sure of yours.  Give the blow,” said he to the executioner, who was present, “and deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came hither on purpose to assassinate me.”

When the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that the honours and presents he had received from the king had procured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed on.  He repented that he had cured him of his leprosy; but it was now too late.  “Is it thus,” asked the physician, “that you reward me for curing you?” The king would not hearken to him, but a second time ordered the executioner to strike the fatal blow.  The physician then had recourse to his prayers; “Alas, Sir,” cried he, “prolong my days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to death, lest God treat you in the same manner.”

The fisherman broke off his discourse here, to apply it to the genie.  “Well, genie,” said he, “you see that what passed betwixt the Grecian king and his physician Douban is acted just now by us.”

The Grecian king, continued he, instead of having regard to the prayers of the physician, who begged him to spare his life, cruelly replied, “No, no; I must of necessity cut you off, otherwise you may assassinate with as much art as you cured me.”  The physician, without bewailing himself for being so ill rewarded by the king, prepared for death.  The executioner tied his hands, and was going to draw his cimeter.

The courtiers who were present, being moved with compassion, begged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was not guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would answer for his innocence:  but the king was inflexible.

The physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to receive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king:  “Sir,” said he, “since your majesty will not revoke the sentence of death, I beg, at least, that you would give me leave to return to my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to my family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who are capable of making good use of them.  I have one particularly I would present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and worthy of being laid up carefully in your treasury.”  “What is it,” demanded the king, “that makes it so valuable?” “Sir,” replied the physician, “it possesses many singular and curious properties; of which the chief is, that if your majesty will give yourself the trouble to open it at the sixth leaf, and read the third line of the left page, my head, after being cut off, will answer all the questions you ask it.”  The king being curious, deferred his death till next day, and sent him home under a strong guard.

The physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and the report being spread, that an unheard of prodigy was to happen after his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and, in a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of audience, that they might be witnesses of it.

The physician Douban was brought in, and advancing to the foot of the throne, with a book in his hand, he called for a basin, and laid upon it the cover in which the book was wrapped; then presenting the book to the king, “Take this,” said he, “and after my head is cut off, order that it be put into the basin upon that cover; as soon as it is placed there, the blood will stop; then open the book, and my head will answer your questions.  But permit me once more to implore your majesty’s clemency; for God’s sake grant my request, I protest to you that I am innocent.”  “Your prayers,” answered the king, “are in vain; and were it for nothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it is my will you should die.”  As he said this, he took the book out of the physician’s hand, and ordered the executioner to do his duty.

The head was so dexterously cut off that it fell into the basin, and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood stopped; then to the great surprise of the king, and all the spectators, its eyes, and said, “Sir, will your majesty be pleased to open the book?” The king proceeded to do so; but finding that the leaves adhered to each other, that he might turn them with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wetted it with spittle.  He did thus till he came to the sixth leaf, and finding no writing on the place where he was desired to look for it, “Physician,” said he, “there is nothing written.”  “Turn over some more leaves,” replied the head.  The king went on, putting always his finger to his mouth, until the poison with which each leaf was imbued, coming to have its effect, the prince found himself suddenly taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight failed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne in violent convulsions.

When the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments to live; “Tyrant,” it cried, “now you see how princes are treated, who, abusing their authority, cut off innocent men:  God punishes soon or late their injustice and cruelty.”  Scarcely had the head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and the head itself lost what life it had.

As soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek king and his physician Douban, he made the application to the genie, whom he still kept shut up in the vessel.  “If the Grecian king,” said he, “had suffered the physician to live, God would have continued his life also; but he rejected his most humble prayers, and the case is the same with thee, O genie!  Could I have prevailed with thee to grant me the favour I supplicated, I should now take pity on thee; but since, notwithstanding the extreme obligation thou west under to me, for having set thee at liberty, thou didst persist in thy design to kill me, I am obliged, in my turn, to be equally hard-hearted to thee.”

“My good friend fisherman,” replied the genie, “I conjure thee once more, not to be guilty of such cruelty; consider, that it is not good to avenge one’s self, and that on the other hand, it is commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama formerly treated Ateca.”  “And what did Imama to Ateca?” enquired the fisherman.  “Ho!” says the genie, “if you have a mind to be informed, open the vessel:  do you think that I can be in an humour to relate stories in so strait a prison?  I will tell you as many as you please, when you have let me out.”  “No,” said the fisherman, “I will not let thee out; it is in vain to talk of it; I am just going to throw thee into the bottom of the sea.”  “Hear me one word more,” cried the genie; “I promise to do thee no hurt; nay, far from that, I will shew thee a way to become exceedingly rich.”

The hope of delivering himself from poverty, prevailed with the fisherman.  “I could listen to thee,” said he, “were there any credit to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of God, that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I will open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break such an oath.”

The genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took off the covering of the vessel.  At that instant the smoke ascended, and the genie having resumed his form, the first thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea.  This action alarmed the fisherman.  “Genie,” said he, “will not you keep the oath you just now made?  And must I say to you, as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king, suffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.”

The genie laughed at the fisherman’s fear, and answered, “No, fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to see if thou wouldst be alarmed at it:  but to convince thee that I am in earnest, take thy nets and follow me.”  As he spoke these words, he walked before the fisherman, who having taken up his nets, followed him, but with some distrust.  They passed by the town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a lake, that lay betwixt four hills.

When they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the fisherman, “Cast in thy nets, and catch fish;” the fisherman did not doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the water; but he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of four colours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow.  He threw in his nets, and brought out one of each colour.  Having never seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful.  “Carry those fish,” said the genie to him, “and present them to thy sultan; he will give thee more money for them.  Thou mayest come every day to fish in this lake; but I give thee warning not to throw in thy nets above once a day, otherwise thou wilt repent.”  Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up closed again.

The fisherman being resolved to follow the genie’s advice, forbore casting in his nets a second time; and returned to the town very well satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon his adventure.  He went immediately to the sultan’s palace, to offer his fish.

The sultan was much surprised, when he saw the four fish which the fisherman presented.  He took them up one after another, and viewed them with attention; and after having admired them a long time, “Take those fish,” said he to his vizier, “and carry them to the cook, whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me.  I cannot imagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful.”

The vizier, carried them as he was directed, and delivering them to the cook, said, “Here are four fish just brought to the sultan; he orders you to dress them:”  he then returned to the sultan his master, who ordered him to give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold of the coin of that country, which he did accordingly.

The fisherman, who had never seen so much money, could scarcely believe his good fortune, but thought the whole must be a dream, until he found it otherwise, by being able to provide necessaries for his family with the produce of his fish.

As soon as the sultan’s cook had gutted the fish, she put them upon the fire in a frying-pan, with oil, and when she thought them fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other; but, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen divided, and a young lady of wonderful beauty entered from the opening.  She was clad in flowered satin, after the Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, a necklace of large pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies, with a rod in her hand.  She moved towards the frying-pan, to the great amazement of the cook, who continued fixed by the sight, and striking one of the fish with the end of the rod, said, “Fish, fish, are you in duty?” The fish having answered nothing, she repeated these words, and then the four fish lifted up their heads, and replied, “Yes, yes:  if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content.”  As soon as they had finished these words, the lady overturned the frying-pan, and returned into the open part of the wall, which closed immediately, and became as it was before.

The cook was greatly frightened at what had happened, and coming a little to herself, went to take up the fish that had fallen on the hearth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be carried to the sultan.  This grievously troubled her, and she fell to weeping most bitterly.  “Alas!” said she, “what will become of me?  If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not believe me, but will be enraged against me.”

While she was thus bewailing herself, the grand vizier entered, and asked her if the fish were ready?  She told him all that had occurred, which we may easily imagine astonished him; but without speaking a word of it to the sultan, he invented an excuse that satisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman, bid him bring four more such fish, for a misfortune had befallen the others, so that they were not fit to be carried to the sultan.  The fisherman, without saying any thing of what the genie had told him, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that day, told the vizier, he had a great way to go for them, but would certainly bring them on the morrow.

Accordingly the fisherman went away by night, and coming to the lake, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four fish like the former, and brought them to the vizier, at the hour appointed.  The minister took them himself, carried them to the kitchen, and shutting himself up with the cook, she gutted them, and put them on the fire, as she had done the four others the day before.  When they were fried on one side, and she had turned them upon the other, the kitchen wall again opened, and the same lady came in with the rod in her hand, struck one of the fish, spoke to it as before, and all four gave her the same answer.

After the four fish had answered the young lady, she overturned the frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the wall.  The grand vizier, being witness to what had passed:  “This is too wonderful and extraordinary,” said he, “to be concealed from the sultan; I will inform him of this prodigy.”

The sultan, being much surprised, sent immediately for the fisherman, and said to him, “Friend, cannot you bring me four more such fish?” The fisherman replied, “If your majesty will be pleased to allow me three days, I will do it.”  Having obtained his time, he went to the lake immediately, and at the first throwing in of his net, he caught four fish, and brought them directly to the sultan; who was so much the more rejoiced, as he did not expect them so soon, and ordered him four hundred pieces of gold.  As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered them to be carried into his closet, with all that was necessary for frying them; and having shut himself up with the vizier, the minister gutted them, put them into the pan, and when they were fried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the wall of the closet opened, but instead of the young lady, there came out a black, in the habit of a slave, and of a gigantic stature, with a great green staff in his hand.  He advanced towards the pan, and touching one of the fish with his staff, said with a terrible voice, “Fish, are you in your duty?” At these words, the fish raised up their heads, and answered, “Yes, yes; we are:  if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content.”

The fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw the pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced the fish to a coal.  Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering again into the aperture, it closed, and the wall appeared just as it did before.

“After what I have seen,” said the sultan to the vizier, “it will not be possible for me to be easy:  these fish, without doubt, signify something extraordinary.”  He sent for the fisherman, and when he came, said to him, “Fisherman, the fish you have brought us, make me very uneasy; where did you catch them?” “Sir,” answered he, “I fished for them in a lake situated betwixt four hills, beyond the mountain that we see from hence.”  “Knowst thou not that lake?” said the sultan to the vizier.  “No,” replied the vizier.  “I never so much as heard of it, although I have for sixty years hunted beyond that mountain.”  The sultan asked the fisherman, how far the lake might be from the palace?  The fisherman answered, it was not above three hours journey; upon this assurance, the sultan commanded all his court to take horse, and the fisherman served them for a guide.  They all ascended the mountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to their great surprise, a vast plain, that nobody had observed till then, and at last they came to the lake, which they found to be situated betwixt four hills as the fisherman had described.  The water was so transparent, that they observed all the fish to be like those which the fisherman had brought to the palace.

The sultan stood upon the bank of the lake, and after beholding the fish with admiration, demanded of his courtiers, if it were possible they had never seen this lake, which was within so short a distance of the town.  They all answered, that they had never so much as heard of it.

“Since you all agree that you never heard of it, and as I am no less astonished than you are, at this novelty, I am resolved not to return to my palace till I learn how this lake came here, and why all the fish in it are of four colours.”  Having spoken thus, he ordered his court to encamp; and immediately his pavilion and the tents of his household were planted upon the banks of the lake.

When night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke to the grand vizier thus:  “Vizier, my mind is uneasy:  this lake transported hither; the black that appeared to us in my closet, and the fish that we heard speak; all these things so much excite my curiosity, that I cannot resist my impatient desire to have it satisfied.  To this end, I am resolved to withdraw alone from the camp, and I order you to keep my absence secret:  stay in my pavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers come to attend my levee, send them away, and tell them, that I am somewhat indisposed, and wish to be alone; and the following days tell them the same thing, till I return.”

The grand vizier endeavoured to divert the sultan from this design; he represented to him the danger to which he might be exposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain:  but it was to no purpose; the sultan was resolved.  He put on a suit fit for walking, and took his cimeter; and as soon as he found that all was quiet in the camp, went out alone, and passed over one of the hills without much difficulty; he found the descent still more easy, and when he came to the plain, walked on till the sun arose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a vast building.  He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes of receiving there the information he sought.  When he drew near, he found it was a magnificent palace, or rather a strong castle, of black polished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as glass.  Being highly pleased that he had so speedily met with something worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle, and considered it with attention.

He then advanced towards the gate, which had two leaves, one of them open; though he might immediately have entered, yet he thought it best to knock.  This he did at first softly, and waited for some time; but seeing no one, and supposing he had not been heard, he knocked harder the second time, and after that he knocked again and again, but no one yet appearing, he was exceedingly surprised; for he could not think that a castle in such repair was without inhabitants.  “If there be no one in it,” said he to himself, “I have nothing to fear; and if it be inhabited, I have wherewith to defend myself.”

At last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cried, “Is there no one here to receive a stranger, who comes in for some refreshment as he passes by?” He repeated the same words two or three times; but though he spoke very loud, he was not answered.  The silence increased his astonishment:  he came into a spacious court, and looked on every side for inhabitants, but discovered none.

The sultan entered the grand halls, which were hung with silk tapestry, the alcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of Mecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of India, mixed with gold and silver.  He came afterwards into a superb saloon, in the middle of which was a fountain, with a lion of massy gold at each angle:  water issued from the mouths of the four lions; and as it fell, formed diamonds and pearls, resembling a jet d’eau, which springing from the middle of the fountain, rose nearly to the top of a cupola painted in Arabesque.

The castle, on three sides, was encompassed by a garden, with parterres of flowers, shrubbery, and whatever could concur to embellish it; and to complete the beauty of the place, an infinite number of birds filled the air with their harmonious notes, and always remained there, nets being spread over the garden, and fastened to the palace to confine them.  The sultan walked from apartment to apartment, where he found every thing rich and magnificent.  Being tired with walking, he sat down in a verandah or arcade closet, which had a view over the garden, reflecting what he had already seen, and then beheld:  when suddenly he heard the voice of one complaining, in lamentable tones.  He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these words:  “O fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy a happy lot, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death put an end to my sorrows.  Alas! is it possible that I am still alive, after so many torments as I have suffered!”

The sultan rose up, advanced toward the place whence he heard the voice; and coming to the door of a great hall, opened it, and saw a handsome young man, richly habited, seated upon a throne raised a little above the ground.  Melancholy was painted on his countenance.  The sultan drew near, and saluted him; the young man returned his salutation by an inclination of his head, not being able to rise, at the same time saying, “My lord, I should rise to receive you; but am hindered by sad necessity, and therefore hope you will not be offended.”  “My lord,” replied the sultan, “I am much obliged to you for having so good an opinion of me:  as to the reason of your not rising, whatever your apology be, I heartily accept it.  Being drawn hither by your complaints, and afflicted by your grief, I come to offer you my help; would to God that it lay in my power to ease you of your trouble!  I would do my utmost to effect it.  I flatter myself that you will relate to me the history of your misfortunes; but inform me first of the meaning of the lake near the palace, where the fish are of four colours? whose this castle is? how you came to be here? and why you are alone?”

Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep bitterly.  “How inconstant is fortune!” cried he; “she takes pleasure to pull down those she had raised.  Where are they who enjoy quietly the happiness which they hold of her, and whose day is always clear and serene?”

The sultan, moved with compassion to see him in such a condition, prayed him to relate the cause of his excessive grief.  “Alas! my lord,” replied the young man, “how is it possible but I should grieve, and my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears?” At these words, lifting up his robe, he shewed the sultan that he was a man only from the head to the girdle, and that the other half of his body was black marble.

The sultan was much surprised, when he saw the deplorable condition of the young man.  “That which you shew me,” said he, “while it fills me with horror, excites my curiosity, so that I am impatient to hear your history, which, no doubt, must be extraordinary, and I am persuaded that the lake and the fish make some part of it; therefore I conjure you to relate it.  You will find some comfort in so doing, since it is certain, that the unfortunate find relief in making known their distress.”  “I will not refuse your request,” replied the young man, “though I cannot comply without renewing my grief.  But I give you notice before hand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and even your eyes, for things which surpass all that the imagination can conceive.”

The History of the Young King of the Black Isles.

You must know that my father, named Mahmoud, was king of this country.  This is the kingdom of the Black Isles, which takes its name from the four small neighbouring mountains; for these mountains were formerly isles:  the capital where the king my father resided was situated on the spot now occupied by the lake you have seen.  The sequel of my history will inform you of those changes.

The king my father died when he was seventy years of age; I had no sooner succeeded him, than I married, and the lady I chose to share the royal dignity with me, was my cousin.  I had so much reason to be satisfied with her affection, and, on my part, loved her with so much tenderness, that nothing could surpass the harmony and pleasure of our union.  This lasted five years, at the end of which time, I perceived the queen, my cousin, ceased to delight in my attentions.

One day, after dinner, while she was at the bath, I found myself inclined to repose and lay down upon a sofa.  Two of her ladies, who were then in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head, and the other at my feet, with fans in their hands to moderate the heat, and to prevent the flies from disturbing me.  They thought I was asleep, and spoke in whispers; but as I only closed my eyes, I heard all their conversation.

One of them said to the other, “Is not the queen wrong, not to love so amiable a prince?” “Certainly,” replied the other; “I do not understand the reason, neither can I conceive why she goes out every night, and leaves him alone!” “Is it possible that he does not perceive it?” “Alas!” said the first, “how should he? she mixes every evening in his liquor, the juice of a certain herb, which makes him sleep so sound all night, that she has time to go where she pleases, and as day begins to appear, she comes and lies down by him again, and wakes him by the smell of something she puts under his nostrils.”

You may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this conversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet, whatever emotion it excited, I had sufficient self-command to dissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard a word.

The queen returned from the bath, we supped together and she presented me with a cup full of such water as I was accustomed to drink; but instead of putting it to my mouth, I went to a window that was open, and threw out the water so quickly, that she did not perceive it, and returned.

We went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was asleep, she got up with so little precaution, that she said loud enough for me to hear her distinctly, “Sleep on, and may you never wake again!” She dressed herself, and went out of the chamber.

As soon as the queen my wife was gone, I dressed myself in haste, took my cimeter, and followed her so quickly, that I soon heard the sound of her feet before me, and then walked softly after her, for fear of being heard.  She passed through several gates, which opened upon her pronouncing some magical words, and the last she opened was that of the garden, which she entered.  I stopt at this gate, that she might not perceive me, as she passed along a parterre; then looking after her as far as the darkness of the night permitted, I saw her enter a little wood, whose walks were guarded by thick palisadoes.  I went thither by another way, and concealing myself behind the palisadoes of a long walk, I saw her walking there with a man.

I did not fail to lend the most attentive ear to their discourse, and heard her address herself thus to her gallant:  “I do not deserve to be reproached by you for want of diligence.  You well know the reason; but if all the proofs of affection I have already given you be not sufficient to convince you of my sincerity, I am ready to give you others more decisive:  you need but command me, you know my power; I will, if you desire it, before sun-rise convert this great city, and this superb palace, into frightful ruins, inhabited only by wolves, owls, and ravens.  If you would have me transport all the stones of those walls so solidly built, beyond mount Caucasus, or the bounds of the habitable world, speak but the word, and all shall be changed.”

As the queen finished these words she and her lover came to the end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me.  I had already drawn my cimeter, and her lover being next me, I struck him on the neck, and brought him to the ground.  I concluded I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily without making myself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare, because she was my kinswoman.

The wound I had given her lover was mortal; but by her enchantments she preserved him in an existence in which he could not be said to be either dead or alive.  As I crossed the garden to return to the palace, I heard the queen loudly lamenting, and judging by her cries how much she was grieved, I was pleased that I had spared her life.

As soon as I had reached my apartment, I went to bed, and being satisfied with having punished the villain who had injured me, fell asleep; and when I awoke next morning, found the queen lying.  I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I arose, went to my closet, and dressed myself.  I afterwards held my council.  At my return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair dishevelled, and part of it torn off, presented herself before me, and said; “I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to see me in this condition.  My heavy affliction is occasioned by intelligence of three distressing events which I have just received.”  “Alas! what are they, madam?” said I.  “The death of the queen my dear mother,” she replied, “that of the king my father killed in battle, and of one of my brothers, who has fallen down a precipice.”

I was not displeased that she used this pretext to conceal the true cause of her grief, and I concluded she had not suspected me of being the author of her lover’s death.  “Madam,” said I, “so far from blaming, I assure you I heartily commiserate your sorrow.  I should feel surprise if you were insensible to such heavy calamities:  weep on; your tears are so many proofs of your tenderness; but I hope that time and reflection will moderate your grief.”

She retired into her apartment, where, giving herself wholly up to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning and lamentation.  At the end of that period, she begged permission to erect a burying place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days:  I consented, and she built a stately edifice, crowned by a cupola, which may be seen from hence, and called it the Palace of Tears.  When it was finished, she caused her lover to be conveyed thither, from the place to which she had caused him to be carried the night I wounded him:  she had hitherto prevented his dying, by potions which she had administered to him; and she continued to convey them to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.

Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure him; he was not only unable to walk or support himself, but had also lost the use of his speech, and exhibited no sign of life except in his looks.  Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say to him all that her senseless passion could inspire, yet every day she made him two long visits.  I was well apprised of this, but pretended ignorance.

One day my curiosity induced me to go to the Palace of Tears, to observe how the princess employed herself, and from a place where she could not see me, I heard her thus address her lover:  “I am afflicted to the highest degree to behold you in this condition; I am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I am continually speaking to you, and you do not answer me:  how long will you remain silent?  Speak only one word:  alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in partaking of your grief.  I cannot live at a distance from you, and would prefer the pleasure of having you always before me, to the empire of the universe.”

At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs and sobs, I lost all patience:  and discovering myself, came up to her, and said, “Madam, you have wept enough, it is time to give over this sorrow, which dishonours both; you have too much forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself.”  “Sire,” said she, “if you have any kindness or compassion for me left, I beseech you to put no restraint upon me; allow me to indulge my grief, which it is impossible for time to assuage.”

When I perceived that my remonstrance, instead of restoring her to a sense of duty, served only to increase her anguish, I gave over and retired.  She continued every day to visit her lover, and for two whole years abandoned herself to grief and despair.

I went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there.  I concealed myself again, and heard her thus address her lover:  “It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you answer not the proofs I give you of my love by my sighs and lamentations.  Is it from insensibility, or contempt?  O tomb! hast thou destroyed that excess of affection which he bare me?  Hast thou closed those eyes that evinced so much love, and were all my delight?  No, no, this I cannot think.  Tell me rather, by what miracle thou becamest the depositary of the rarest treasure the world ever contained.”

I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these expressions; for, in truth, this beloved, this adored mortal, was by no means what you would imagine him to have been.  He was a black Indian, one of the original natives of this country.  I was so enraged at the language addressed to him, that I discovered myself, and apostrophising the tomb in my turn; I cried, “O tomb! why dost not thou swallow up that monster so revolting to human nature, or rather why dost not thou swallow up both the lover and his mistress?”

I had scarcely uttered these words, when the queen, who sat by the black, rose up like a fury.  “Miscreant!” said she “thou art the cause of my grief; do not think I am ignorant of this, I have dissembled too long.  It was thy barbarous hand that brought the objets of my fondness into this lamentable condition; and thou hast the cruelty to come and insult a despairing lover.”  “Yes,” said I, in a rage, “it was I that chastised that monster, according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I now repent that I did not; thou hast too long abused my goodness.”  As I spoke these words, I drew out my cimeter, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but regarding me stedfastly, she said with a jeering smile, “Moderate thy anger.”  At the same time, she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterwards added, “By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee to become half marble and half man.”  Immediately, my lord, I became what you see, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead.

After the cruel sorceress, unworthy of the name of queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing and populous; she annihilated the houses, the public places and markets, and reduced the site of the whole to the lake and desert plain you have seen; the fishes of four colours in the lake are the four kinds of inhabitants of different religions, which the city contained.  The white are the Moosulmauns; the red, the Persians, who worship fire; the blue, the Christians and the yellow, the Jews.  The four little hills were the four islands that gave name to this kingdom.  I learned all this from the enchantress, who, to add to my affliction, related to me these effects of her rage.  But this is not all; her revenge not being satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the metamorphosis of my person, she comes every day, and gives me over my naked shoulders a hundred lashes with a whip until I am covered with blood.  When she has finished this part of my punishment, she throws over me a coarse stuff of goat’s hair, and over that this robe of brocade, not to honour, but to mock me.

When he came to this part of the narrative, the young king could not restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by the relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of consolation.  Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, “Mighty creator of all things, I submit myself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence:  I endure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will things should be as they are; but I hope thy infinite goodness will ultimately reward me.”

The sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story, and anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince, said to him, “Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress retires, and where may be found her vile paramour, who is entombed before his death.”  “My lord,” replied the prince, “her lover, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of Tears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome:  this palace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed.  As to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires, but every day at sun-rise she goes to visit her paramour, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself.  She carries to him the potion with which she had hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never having spoken to her since he was wounded.”

“Prince,” said the sultan, “your condition can never be sufficiently deplored:  no one can be more sensibly affected by your misfortunes than I am.  Never did any thing so extraordinary befall any man, and those who write your history will have the advantage of relating what surpasses all that has hitherto been recorded.  One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are entitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it.”

In his subsequent conversation with the young prince, the sultan told him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the castle; and afterwards informed him of a mode of revenge which he had devised.  They agreed upon the measures they were to take for accomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till the following day.  In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night as usual, without sleep, having never slept since he was enchanted, still indulging some hopes of being speedily delivered from his misery.

Next morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to execute his design, hiding his upper garment, which might encumber him; he then proceeded to the Palace of Tears.  He found it lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of fine gold of admirable workmanship.  As soon as he perceived the bed where the black lay, he drew his cimeter, and without resistance deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well.  After this, he went and lay down in the black’s bed, placed his cimeter under the covering, and waited to complete his design.

The queen arrived shortly after.  She first went into the chamber of her husband, the king of the Black Islands, stripped him, and with unexampled barbarity gave him a hundred stripes.  The unfortunate prince filled the palace with his lamentations, and conjured her in the most affecting tone to take pity on him; but the cruel wretch ceased not till she had given the usual number of blows.  “You had no compassion on my lover,” said she, “and you are to expect none from me.”

After the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a hundred blows with the whip, she put on again his covering of goat’s hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to the Palace of Tears, and as she entered renewed her tears and lamentations:  then approaching the bed, where she thought her paramour lay, “What cruelty,” cried she, “was it to disturb the satisfaction so tender and passionate a lover as I am?  O cruel prince, who reproachest me that I am inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment!  Does not thy barbarity surpass my vengeance?  Traitor! in attempting the life of the object which I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine?  Alas!” said she, addressing herself to the sultan, conceiving him to be the black “My sun, my life, will you always be silent!  Are you resolved to let me die, without affording me the comfort of hearing again from your own lips that you love me?  My soul, speak one word to me at least, I conjure you.”

The sultan, as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, answered the queen with a grave tone, “There is no strength or power but in God alone, who is almighty.”  At these words the enchantress, who did not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy.  “My dear lord,” cried she, “do not I deceive myself; is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me?” “Unhappy woman,” said the sultan, “art thou worthy that I should answer thee?” “Alas!” replied the queen, “why do you reproach me thus?” “The cries,” returned the sultan, “the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, prevent my sleeping night or day.  Hadst thou disenchanted him, I should long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of my speech.  This is the cause of my silence, of which you complain.”  “Well,” said the enchantress, “to pacify you, I am ready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?” “Yes,” replied the sultan; “make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations.”

The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she took a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire.  She afterwards proceeded to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon him, saying, “If the creator of all things did form thee as thou art at present; or if he be angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou west before.”  She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and returned thanks to God.  The enchantress then said to him, “Get thee from this castle, and never return on pain of death.”  The young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the enchantress, without replying a word; and retired to a remote place, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which the sultan had so happily begun.  Meanwhile, the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears, and supposing that she still spoke to the black, said, “Dear love, I have done what you required; nothing now prevents your rising and giving me the satisfaction of which I have so long been deprived.”

The sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks, said, “What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my cure; you have only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it up by the root.”  “My lovely black,” resumed the queen, “what do you mean by the root?” “Wretched woman,” replied the sultan, “understand you not that I allude to the town, and its inhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy enchantments?  The fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of the lake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me.  This is the true cause of the delay of my cure.  Go speedily, restore things to their former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to arise.”

The enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out in a transport of joy, “My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored to your health, for I will immediately do as you command me.”  Accordingly she went that instant, and when she came to the brink of the lake, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it, had no sooner pronounced some words over the fish and the lake, than the city was immediately restored.  The fish became men, women, and children; Mahummedans, Christians, Persians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before:  every one having recovered his natural form.  The houses and shops were immediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the enchantment.  The sultan’s numerous retinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see themselves in an instant in the middle of a large, handsome, well-peopled city.

To return to the enchantress:  As soon as she had effected this wonderful change, she returned with all expedition to the Palace of Tears, that she might receive her reward.  “My dear lord,” cried she, as she entered, “I come to rejoice with you in the return of your health:  I have done all that you required of me, then pray rise, and give me your hand.”  “Come near,” said the sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the blacks.  She did so.  “You are not near enough,” he continued, “approach nearer.”  She obeyed.  He then rose up, and seizing her by the arm so suddenly, that she had not time to discover him, he with a blow of his cimeter cut her in two, so that one half fell one way and the other another.  This done he left the body on the spot, and going out of the Palace of Tears, went to seek the young king of the Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience.  When he found him, “Prince,” said he, embracing him, “rejoice; you have now nothing to fear; your cruel enemy is dead.”

The young prince returned thanks to the sultan in a manner that sufficiently the sincerity of his gratitude, and in return wished him long life and happiness.  “You may henceforward,” said the sultan, “dwell peaceably in your capital, unless you will accompany me to mine, which is near:  you shall there be welcome, and have as much honour and respect shown you as if you were in your own kingdom.”  “Potent monarch, to whom I am so much indebted,” replied the king, “you think then that you are near your capital?” “Yes,” said the sultan, “I know it is not above four or five hours’ journey.”  “It will take you a whole year to return,” said the prince “I do indeed believe that you came hither from your capital in the time you mention, because mine was enchanted; but since the enchantment is taken off, things are changed:  however, this shall not prevent my following you, were it to the utmost corners of the earth.  You are my deliverer, and that I may give you proofs of my acknowledging this during my whole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to leave my kingdom without regret.”

The sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so far from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be.  But the young king of the Black Islands convinced him beyond a possibility of doubt.  Then the sultan replied, “It is no matter; the trouble of returning to my own country is sufficiently recompensed by the satisfaction of having obliged you, and by acquiring you for a son; for since you will do me the honour to accompany me, as I have no child, I look upon you as such, and from this moment appoint you my heir and successor.”

The conversation between the sultan and the king of the Black Islands concluded with most affectionate embraces, after which the young prince employed himself in making preparations for his journey, which were finished in three weeks, to the great regret of his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one of his nearest kindred for their monarch.

At length, the sultan and the young prince began their journey, with a hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the treasury of the young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen on horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed They had a pleasant journey; and when the sultan, who had sent couriers to give advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had occasioned it, approached his capital, the principal officers came to receive him, and to assure him that his long absence had occasioned no alteration in his empire.  The inhabitants also came out in great crowds, received him with acclamations, and made public rejoicings for several days.

The day after his arrival the sultan gave all his courtiers a very ample account of the circumstances, which, contrary to his expectation, had detained him so long.  He acquainted them with his having adopted the king of the Four Black Islands, who was willing to leave a great kingdom, to accompany and live with him; and, in reward for their loyalty, he made each of them presents according to their rank.

As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful fortune, which made him and his family happy the rest of their days.

STORY OF THE THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF SULTANS; AND OF THE FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD.

In the reign of Caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there was at Bagdad, a porter, who, notwithstanding his mean and laborious business, was a fellow of wit and good humour.  One morning as he was at the place where he usually plyed, with a great basket, waiting for employment, a handsome young lady, covered with a great muslin veil, accosted him, and said with a pleasant air, “Hark you, porter, take your basket and follow me.”  The porter, charmed with these words, pronounced in so agreeable a manner, took his basket immediately, set it on his head, and followed the lady, exclaiming, “O happy day, O day of good luck!”

In a short time the lady stopped before a gate that was shut, and knocked:  a Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened it; and she put money into his hand, without speaking; but the Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and in a little time, brought a large jug of excellent wine.  “Take this jug,” said the lady to the porter, “and put it in your basket.”  This being done, she commanded him to follow her; and as she proceeded, the porter continued his exclamation, “O happy day!  This is a day of agreeable surprise and joy.”

The lady stopped at a fruit-shop, where she bought several sorts of apples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges; myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamin, and some other flowers and fragrant plants; she bid the porter put all into his basket, and follow her.  As she went by a butcher’s stall, she made him weigh her twenty five pounds of his best meat, which she ordered the porter to put also into his basket.  At another shop, she took capers, tarragon, cucumbers, sassafras, and other herbs, preserved in vinegar:  at another, she bought pistachios, walnuts, filberts, almonds, kernels of pine-apples, and such other fruits; and at another, all sorts of confectionery.  When the porter had put all these things into his basket, and perceived that it grew full, “My good lady,” said he, “you ought to have given me notice that you had so much provision to carry, and then I would have brought a horse, or rather a camel, for the purpose; for if you buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to bear it.”  The lady laughed at the fellow’s pleasant humour, and ordered him still to follow her.

She then went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all manner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and a great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices; this quite filled the porter’s basket, and she ordered him to follow her.  They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose front was adorned with fine columns, and had a gate of ivory.  There they stopped, and the lady knocked softly.

While the young lady and the porter waited for the opening of the gate, the porter made a thousand reflections.  He wondered that such a fine lady should come abroad to buy provisions; he concluded she could not be a slave, her air was too noble, and therefore he thought she must needs be a woman of quality.  Just as he was about to ask her some questions upon this head, another lady came to open the gate, and appeared to him so beautiful, that he was perfectly surprised, or rather so much struck with her charms, that he had nearly suffered his basket to fall, for he had never seen any beauty that equalled her.

The lady who brought the porter with her, perceiving his disorder, and knowing the cause, was greatly diverted, and took so much pleasure in watching his looks, that she forgot the gate was opened.  “Pray, Sister,” said the beautiful portress, “come in, what do you stay for?  Do not you see this poor man so heavy laden, that he is scarcely able to stand.”

When she entered with the porter, the lady who had opened the gate shut it, and all three, after having passed through a splendid vestibule, entered a spacious court, encompassed with an open gallery, which had a communication with several apartments of extraordinary magnificence.  At the farther end of the court there was a platform, richly furnished, with a throne of amber in the middle, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with diamonds and pearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with red satin embroidered with Indian gold of admirable workmanship.  In the middle of the court there was a fountain, faced with white marble, and full of clear water, which was copiously supplied out of the mouth of a lion of brass.

The porter, though heavy laden, could not but admire the magnificence of this house, and the excellent order in which every thing was placed; but what particularly captivated his attention, was a third lady, who seemed to be more beautiful than the second, and was seated upon the throne just mentioned; she descended as soon as she saw the two others, and advanced towards them:  he judged by the respect which the other ladies showed her, that she was the chief, in which he was not mistaken.  This lady was called Zobeide, she who opened the gate Safie, and she who went to buy the provisions was named Amene.

Zobeide said to the two ladies, when she came to them, “Sisters, do not you see that this honest man is ready to sink under his burden, why do not you ease him of it?” Then Amene and Safie took the basket, the one before and the other behind; Zobeide also assisted, and all three together set it on the ground; then emptied it; and when they had done, the beautiful Amene took out money, and paid the porter liberally.

The porter was well satisfied with the money he had received; but when he ought to have departed, he could not summon sufficient resolution for the purpose.  He was chained to the spot by the pleasure of beholding three such beauties, who appeared to him equally charming; for Amene having now laid aside her veil, proved to be as handsome as either of the others.  What surprised him most was, that he saw no man about the house, yet most of the provisions he had brought in, as the dry fruits, and the several sorts of cakes and confections, were adapted chiefly for those who could drink and make merry.

Zobeide thought at first, that the porter staid only to take breath, but perceiving that he remained too long, “What do you wait for,” said she, “are you not sufficiently paid?” And turning to Amene, she continued, “Sister, give him something more, that he may depart satisfied.”  “Madam,” replied the porter, “it is not that which detains me, I am already more than paid for my services; I am sensible that I act rudely in staying longer than I ought, but I hope you will the goodness to pardon me, when I tell you, that I am astonished not to see a man with three ladies of such extraordinary beauty:  and you know that a company of women without men is as melancholy as a company of men without women.”  To this he added several other pleasant things, to prove what he said, and did not forget the Bagdad proverb, “That the table is not completely furnished, except there be four in company:”  and so concluded, that since they were but three, they wanted another.

The ladies fell a laughing at the porter’s reasoning; after which Zobeide gravely addressed him, “Friend, you presume rather too much; and though you do not deserve that I should enter into any explanation with you, I have no objection to inform you that we are three sisters, who transact our affairs with so much secrecy that no one knows any thing of them.  We have but too much reason to be cautious of acquainting indiscreet persons with our counsel; and a good author that we have read, says, ’Keep thy own secret, and do not reveal it to any one.  He that makes his secret known it no longer its master.  If thy own breast cannot keep thy counsel, how canst thou expect the breast of another to be more faithful?’”

“My ladies,” replied the porter, “by your very air, I judged at first that you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I conceive that I am not mistaken.  Though fortune has not given me wealth enough to raise me above my mean profession, yet I have not omitted to cultivate my mind as much as I could, by reading books of science and history; and allow me, I beseech you, to say, that I have also read in another author a maxim which I have always happily followed:  ’We conceal our secret from such persons only as are known to all the world to want discretion, and would abuse our confidence; but we hesitate not to discover it to the prudent, because we know that with them it is safe.’  A secret in my keeping is as secure as if it were locked up in a cabinet, the key of which is lost, and the door sealed up.”

Zobeide perceiving that the porter was not deficient in wit, but thinking he wished to share in their festivity, answered him, smiling, “You know that we have been making preparations to regale ourselves, and that, as you have seen, at a considerable expense; it is not just that you should now partake of the entertainment without contributing to the cost.”  The beautiful Safie seconded her sister, and said to the porter, “Friend, have you never heard the common saying, ’If you bring something with you, you shall carry something away, but if you bring nothing, you shall depart empty?’”

The porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must, in all probability, have retired in confusion, if Amene had not taken his part, and said to Zobeide and Safie, “My dear sisters, I conjure you to let him remain; I need not tell you that he will afford us some diversion, of this you perceive he is capable:  I assure you, had it not been for his readiness, his alacrity, and courage to follow me, I could not have done so much business, in so short a time; besides, where I to repeat to you all the obliging expressions he addressed to me by the way, you would not feel surprised at my taking his part.”

At these words of Amene, the porter was so transported with joy, that he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at her feet, and raising himself up, said, “Most beautiful lady, you began my good fortune to-day, and now you complete it by this generous conduct; I cannot adequately express my acknowledgments.  As to the rest, ladies,” said he, addressing himself to all the three sisters, “since you do me so great an honour, do not think that I will abuse it, or look upon myself as deserving of the distinction.  No, I shall always look upon myself as one of your most humble slaves.”  When he had spoken these words he would have returned the money he had received, but Zobeide ordered him to keep it.  “What we have once given,” said she, “to reward those who have served us, we never take back.  My friend, in consenting to your staying with us, I must forewarn you, that it is not the only condition we impose upon you that you keep inviolable the secret we may entrust to you, but we also require you to attend to the strictest rules of good manners.”  During this address, the charming Amene put off the apparel she went abroad with, and fastened her robe to her girdle that she might act with the greater freedom; she then brought in several sorts of meat, wine, and cups of gold.  Soon after, the ladies took their places, and made the porter sit down by them, who was overjoyed to see himself seated with three such admirable beauties.  After they had eaten a little, Amene took a cup, poured some wine into it, and drank first herself; she then filled the cup to her sisters, who drank in course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth time for the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amene’s hand; and before he drank, sung a song to this purpose.  That as the wind bears with it the sweet scents of the perfumed places over which it passes, so the wine he was going to drink, coming from her fair hands, received a more exquisite flavour than it naturally possessed.  The song pleased the ladies much, and each of them afterwards sung one in her turn.  In short, they were all very pleasant during the repast, which lasted a considerable time, and nothing was wanting that could serve to render it agreeable.  The day drawing to a close, Safie spoke in the name of the three ladies, and said to the porter, “Arise, it is time for you to depart.”  But the porter, not willing to leave good company, cried, “Alas! ladies, whither do you command me to go in my present condition?  What with drinking and your society, I am quite beside myself.  I shall never find the way home; allow me this night to recover myself, in any place you please, but go when I will, I shall leave the best part of myself behind.”

Amene pleaded the second time for the porter, saying, “Sisters, he is right, I am pleased with the request, he having already diverted us so well; and, if you will take my advice, or if you love me as much as I think you do, let us keep him for the remainder of the night.”  “Sister,” answered Zobeide, “we can refuse you nothing;” and then turning to the porter, said, “We are willing once more to grant your request, but upon this new condition, that, whatever we do in your presence relating either to ourselves or any thing else, you do not so much as open your mouth to ask the reason; for if you put any questions respecting what does not concern you, you may chance to hear what you will not like; beware therefore, and be not too inquisitive to pry into the motives of our actions.

“Madam,” replied the porter, “I promise to abide by this condition, that you shall have no cause to complain, and far less to punish my indiscretion; my tongue shall be immovable on this occasion, and my eye like a looking-glass, which retains nothing of the objets that is set before it.”  “To shew you,” said Zobeide with a serious countenance, “that what we demand of you is not a new thing among us, read what is written over our gate on the inside.”

The porter went and read these words, written in large characters of gold:  “He who speaks of things that do not concern him, shall hear things that will not please him.”  Returning again to the three sisters, “Ladies,” said he, “I swear to you that you shall never hear me utter a word respecting what does not relate to me, or wherein you may have any concern.”

These preliminaries being settled, Amene brought in supper, and after she had lighted up the room with tapers, made of aloe-wood and ambergris, which yield a most agreeable perfume, as well as a delicate light, she sat down with her sisters and the porter.  They began again to eat and drink, to sing, and repeat verses.  The ladies diverted themselves in intoxicating the porter, under pretext of making him drink their healths, and the repast was enlivened by reciprocal flashes of wit.  When they were all in the best humour possible, they heard a knocking at the gate.

When the ladies heard the knocking, they all three got up to open the gate; but Safie was the nimblest; which her sisters perceiving, they resumed their seats.  Safie returning, said, “Sisters, we have a very fine opportunity of passing a good part of the night pleasantly, and if you agree with me, you will not suffer it to go by.  There are three calenders at our gate, at least they appear to be such by their habit; but what will surprise you is, they are all three blind of the right eye, and have their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved.  They say, they are but just come to Bagdad, where they never were before; it being night, and not knowing where to find a lodging, they happened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray us, for the love of heaven, to have compassion on them, and receive them into the house.  They care not what place we put them in, provided they may be under shelter; they would be satisfied with a stable.  They are young and handsome, and seem not to want spirit.  But I cannot without laughing think of their amusing and uniform figure.”  Here Safie laughed so heartily, that the two sisters and the porter could not refrain from laughing also.  “My dear sisters,” said she, “you will permit them to come in; it is impossible but that with such persons as I have described them to be, we shall finish the day better than we began it; they will afford us diversion enough, and put us to no charge, because they desire shelter only for this night, and resolve to leave us as soon as day appears.”

Zobeide and Amene made some difficulty to grant Safie’s request, for reasons which she herself well knew.  But being very desirous to obtain this favour, they could not refuse her; “Go then,” said Zobeide, “and bring them in, but do not forget to acquaint them that they must not speak of any thing which does not concern them, and cause them to read what is written over the gate.”  Safie ran out with joy, and in a little time after returned with the three calenders.

At their entrance they made a profound obeisance to the ladies, who rose up to receive them, and told them courteously that they were welcome, that they were glad of the opportunity to oblige them, and to contribute towards relieving the fatigues of their journey, and at last invited them to sit down with them.

The magnificence of the place, and the civility they received, inspired the calenders with high respect for the ladies:  but, before they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the porter, whom they saw clad almost like those devotees with whom they have continual disputes respecting several points of discipline, because they never shave their beards nor eye-brows; one of them said, “I believe we have got here one of our revolted Arabian brethren.”

The porter having his head warm with wine, took offence and with a fierce look, without stirring from his place, answered, “Sit you down, and do not meddle with what does not concern you:  have you not read the inscription over the gate?  Do not pretend to make people live after your fashion, but follow ours.”

“Honest man,” said the calender, “do not put yourself in a passion; we should be sorry to give you the least occasion; on the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands.”  Upon which, to put an end to the dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified them.  When the calenders were seated, the ladies served them with meat; and Safie, being highly pleased with them, did not let them want for wine.

After the calenders had eaten and drunk liberally, they signified to the ladies, that they wished to entertain them with a concert of music, if they had any instruments in the house, and would cause them to be brought:  they willingly accepted the proposal, and fair Safie going to fetch them, returned again in a moment, and presented them with a flute of her own country fashion, another of the Persian, and a tabor.  Each man took the instrument he liked, and all three together began to play a tune The ladies, who knew the words of a merry song that suited the air, joined the concert with their voices; but the words of the song made them now and then stop, and fall into excessive laughter.

In the height of this diversion, when the company were in the midst of their jollity, a knocking was heard at the gate; Safie left off singing, and went to see who it was.  The caliph Haroon al Rusheed was frequently in the habit of walking abroad in disguise by night, that he might discover if every thing was quiet in the city, and see that no disorders were committed.

This night the caliph went out on his rambles, accompanied by Jaaffier his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs of his palace, all disguised in merchants’ habits; and passing through the street where the three ladies dwelt, he heard the sound of music and fits of loud laughter; upon which he commanded the vizier, to knock, as he wished to enter to ascertain the reason.  The vizier, in vain represented to him that the noise proceeded from some women who were merry-making, that without question their heads were warm with wine, and that it would not be proper he should expose himself to be affronted by them:  besides, it was not yet an unlawful hour, and therefore he ought not to disturb them in their mirth.  “No matter,” said the caliph, “I command you to knock.”  Jaaffier complied; Safie opened the gate, and the vizier, perceiving by the light in her hand, that she was an incomparable beauty, with a very low salutation said, “We are three merchants of Mossoul, who arrived here about ten days ago with rich merchandise, which we have in a warehouse at a caravan-serai, where we have also our lodging.  We happened this evening to be with a merchant of this city, who invited us to his house, where we had a splendid entertainment:  and the wine having put us in good humour, he sent for a company of dancers.  Night being come on, and the music and dancers making a great noise, the watch, passing by, caused the gate to be opened and some of the company to be taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape by getting over the wall.  Being strangers, and somewhat overcome with wine, we are afraid of meeting that or some other watch, before we get home to our khan.  Besides, before we can arrive there the gates will be shut, and will not be opened till morning:  wherefore, hearing, as we passed by this way, the sound of music, we supposed you were not yet going to rest, and made bold to knock at your gate, to beg the favour of lodging ourselves in the house till morning; and if you think us worthy of your good company, we will endeavour to contribute to your diversion to the best of our power, to make some amends for the interruption we have given you; if not, we only beg the favour of staying this night in your vestibule.”

Whilst Jaaffier was speaking, Safie had time to observe the vizier, and his two companions, who were said to be merchants like himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the house; but if they would have a minute’s patience, she would return with an answer.

Safie made the business known to her sisters, who considered for some time what to do:  but being naturally of a good disposition, and having granted the same favour to the three calenders, they at last consented to let them in.

The caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being introduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies and the calenders.  The ladies returned their salutations, supposing them to be merchants.  Zobeide, as the chief, addressed them with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to her, and said, “You are welcome.  But before I proceed farther, I hope you will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you.”  “Alas!” said the vizier, “what favour?  We can refuse nothing to such fair ladies.”  Zobeide continued, “It is that, while here, you would have eyes, but no tongues; that you question us not for the reason of any thing you may see, and speak not of any thing that does not concern you, lest you hear what will by no means please you.”

“Madam,” replied the vizier, “you shall be obeyed.  We are not censorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to notice affairs that concern us, without meddling with what does not belong to us.”  Upon this they all sat down, and the company being united, they drank to the health of the new-comers.

While the vizier, entertained the ladies in conversation, the caliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty, graceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other hand, nothing struck him with more surprise than the calenders being all three blind of the right eye.  He would gladly have learnt the cause of this singularity; but the conditions so lately imposed upon himself and his companions would not allow him to speak.  These circumstances, with the richness of the furniture, the exact order of every thing, and the neatness of the house, made him think they were in some enchanted place.

Their conversation happening to turn upon diversions, and the different ways of making merry; the calenders arose, and danced after their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies had conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph and his companions.

When the three calenders had finished their dance, Zobeide arose, and taking Amene by the hand, said, “Pray, sister, arise, for the company will not be offended if we use our freedom, and their presence need not hinder the performance of our customary exercise.”  Amene understanding her sister’s meaning, rose from her seat, carried away the dishes, the flasks and cups, together with the instruments which the calenders had played upon.

Safie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in its place, trimmed the lamps, and put fresh aloes and ambergris to them; this being done, she requested the three calenders to sit down upon the sofa at one side, and the caliph with his companions on the other:  then addressing herself to the porter, she said, “Get up, and prepare yourself to assist us in what we are going to do; a man like you, who is one of the family, ought not to be idle.”  The porter, being somewhat recovered from his wine, arose immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown to his belt, answered, “Here am I, ready to obey your commands.”  “Very well,” replied Safie, “stay till you are spoken to; and you shall not be idle long.”  A little time after, Amene came in with a chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then went towards a closet.  Having opened the door, she beckoned to the porter, and said, “Come hither and assist me.”  He obeyed, and entered the closet, and returned immediately, leading two black bitches, each of them secured by a collar and chain; they appeared as if they had been severely whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of the apartment.

Zobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the caliph, moved very gravely towards the porter; “Come,” said she, heaving a deep sigh, “let us perform our duty:”  she then tucked up her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie, “Porter,” said she, “deliver one of the bitches to my sister Amene, and bring the other to me.”

The porter did as he was commanded.  Upon this the bitch that he held in his hand began to howl, and turning towards Zobeide, held her head up in a supplicating posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad countenance of the animal, which would have moved pity, nor to her cries that resounded through the house, whipped her with the rod till she was out of breath; and having spent her strength, threw down the rod, and taking the chain from the porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon her with a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept:  after which, Zobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch’s eye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, desired him to carry her to the place whence he took her, and bring her the other.  The porter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and receiving the other from Amene, presented her to Zobeide, who requested him to hold her as he had done the first, took up the rod, and treated her after the same manner; and when she had wept over her, she dried her eyes, kissed her, and returned her to the porter:  but Amene spared him the trouble of leading her back into the closet, and did it herself.  The three calenders, with the caliph and his companions, were extremely surprised at this exhibition, and could not comprehend why Zobeide, after having so furiously beaten those two bitches, that by the moosulman religion are reckoned unclean animals, should weep with them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them.  They muttered among themselves, and the caliph, who, being more impatient than the rest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so strange a proceeding, could not forbear making signs to the vizier to ask the question:  the vizier turned his head another way; but being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others, that it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.

Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she had whipped the two bitches, to recover herself of her fatigue; and Safie called to her, “Dear sister, will you not be pleased to return to your place, that I may also aft my part?” “Yes, sister,” replied Zobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the sofa, having the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour, on her right hand, and the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.

After Zobeide had taken her seat, the whole company remained silent for some time; at last, Safie, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, spoke to her sister Amene, “Dear sister, I conjure you to rise; you know what I would say.”  Amene rose, and went into another closet, near to that where the bitches were, and brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly embroidered with gold and green silk.  She went towards Safie and opened the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to her:  and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play, and accompanying the instrument with her voice, sung a song about the torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much sweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company.  Having sung with much passion and action, she said to Amene, “Pray take it, sister, for my voice fails me; oblige the company with a tune, and a song in my stead.”  “Very willingly,” replied Amene, who, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat down in her place.

Amene played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but with so much vehemence, and was so much affected, or rather transported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed her as she finished.

Zobeide, desirous of testifying her satisfaction, said, “Sister, you have done wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the grief you have expressed in so lively a manner.”  Amene was prevented from answering this civility, her heart being so sensibly touched at the moment, that she was obliged, for air, to uncover her neck and bosom, which did not appear so fair as might have been expected; but, on the contrary, were black and full of scars, which surprised and affected all the spectators.  However, this gave her no ease, for she fell into a fit.

When Zobeide and Safie had run to help their sister, one of the calenders could not forbear saying, “We had better have slept in the streets than have come hither to behold such spectacles.”  The caliph, who heard this, came to him and the other calenders, and asked them what might be the meaning of all this?  They answered, “We know no more than you do.”  “What,” said the caliph, “are you not of the family?  Can you not resolve us concerning the two black bitches and the lady that fainted away, who appears to have been so basely abused?” “Sir,” said the calenders, “this is the first time of our being in the house; we came in but a few minutes before you.”

This increased the caliph’s astonishment:  “Probably,” said he, “this man who is with you may know something of the matter.”  One of the calenders beckoned the porter to come near; and asked him, whether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and why Amene’s bosom was so scarred.  “Sir,” said the porter, “I can swear by heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as little as you do.  It is true, I live in this city, but I never was in the house until now, and if you are surprised to see me I am as much so to find myself in your company; and that which increases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these ladies.”

The caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, had supposed the porter to be one of the family, and hoped he would have been able to give them the information they sought; but finding he could not, and resolving to satisfy his curiosity, the caliph said to the rest, “We are seven men, and have but three women to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to explain what we have seen, and if they refuse by fair means, we are in a condition to compel them by force.”

The grand vizier Jaaffier objected to this, and shewed the caliph what might be the consequence.  Without discovering the prince to the calenders, he addressed him as if he had been a merchant, and said, “Consider, I pray you, that our reputation is at stake.  You know the conditions on which these ladies consented to receive us, and which we agreed to observe; what will they say of us if we break them?  We shall be still more to blame, if any mischief befall us; for it is not likely that they would have extorted such a promise from us, without knowing themselves to be in a condition to punish us for its violation.”

Here the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him, “The night will soon be at an end, and if your majesty will only be pleased to have so much patience, I will to-morrow morning bring these ladies before your throne, where you may be informed of all that you desire to know.”  Though this advice was very judicious, the caliph rejected it, desired the vizier to hold his tongue, and said, he would not wait so long, but would immediately have his curiosity satisfied.

The next business was to settle who should carry the message.  The caliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first; but they excused themselves, and at last they agreed that the porter should be the man:  as they were consulting how to word this fatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amene, who was recovered of her fit.  She drew near them, and having overheard them speaking pretty loud, said, “Gentlemen, what is the subject of your conversation?  What are you disputing about?”

The porter answered immediately, “Madam, these gentlemen beseech you to inform them why you wept over your two bitches after you had whipped them so severely, and how the bosom of that lady who lately fainted away came to be so full of scars?  These are the questions I am ordered to ask in their name.”

At these words, Zobeide put on a stern countenance, and turning towards the caliph and the rest of the company, “Is it true, gentlemen,” said she, “that you desired him to ask me these questions?” All of them, except the vizier Jaaffier, who spoke not a word, answered, “Yes.”  On which she exclaimed, in a tone that sufficiently expressed her resentment, “Before we granted you the favour of receiving you into our house, and to prevent all occasion of trouble from you, because we are alone, we imposed the condition that you should not speak of any thing that did not concern you, lest you might hear that which would not please you; and yet after having received and entertained you, you make no scruple to break your promise.  It is true that our easy temper has occasioned this, but that shall not excuse your rudeness.”  As she spoke these words, she gave three stamps with her foot, and clapping her hands as often together, cried, “Come quickly:”  upon this, a door flew open, and seven black slaves rushed in; every one seized a man, threw him on the ground, and dragged him into the middle of the room, brandishing a cimeter over his head.

We may easily conceive the caliph then repented, but too late, that he had not taken the advice of his vizier, who, with Mesrour, the calenders and porter, was from his ill-timed curiosity on the point of forfeiting his life.  Before they would strike the fatal blow, one of the slaves said to Zobeide, and her sisters:  “High, mighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command us to strike off their heads?” “Stay,” said Zobeide, “I must examine them first.”  The frightened porter interrupted her thus:  “In the name of heaven, do not put me to death for another man’s crime.  I am innocent; they are to blame.”  “Alas!” said he, weeping, “how pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind calenders are the cause of this misfortune; there is no town in the world but suffers wherever these inauspicious fellows come.  Madam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and consider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I am, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your resentment.”

Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within herself at the porter’s lamentation:  but without replying to him, she spoke a second time to the rest; “Answer me, and say who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer:  I cannot believe you to be honest men, or persons of authority or distinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would have been more modest and more respectful to us.”

The caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than the rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman:  but he began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to know who they all were; for he imagined she would not put him to death, when informed of his quality; therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near him, to declare it speedily:  but the vizier, more prudent, resolved to save his master’s honour, and not let the world know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own imprudence; and therefore answered, “We have what we deserve.”  But if he had intended to speak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide would not have allowed him time:  for having turned to the calenders, and seeing them all blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers.  One of them answered, “No, madam, no otherwise than as we are calenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules.”  “Were you born blind of the right eye,” continued she?  “No, madam,” answered he; “I lost my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be instructive to every body were it in writing:  after that misfortune I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit of a calender which I now wear.”

Zobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had the same answers; but the last who spoke added, “Madam, to shew you that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some consideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three sons of sultans; and though we never met together till this evening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one another; and I assure you that the sultans from whom we derive our being were famous in the world.”

At this discourse Zobeide suppressed her anger, and said to the slaves, “Give them their liberty a while, but remain where you are.  Those who tell us their history, and the occasion of their coming, do them no hurt, let them go where they please; but do not spare those who refuse to give us that satisfaction.”

The three calendars, the caliph, the grand vizier, Jaaffier, the eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in the middle of the hall, seated upon a carpet in the presence of the three ladies, who reclined upon a sofa, and the slaves stood ready to do whatever their mistresses should command.

The porter, understanding that he might extricate himself from danger by telling his history, spoke first, and said, “Madam, you know my history already, and the occasion of my coming hither; so that what I have to say will be very short.  My lady, your sister, called me this morning at the place where I plyed as porter to see if any body would employ me, that I might get my bread; I followed her to a vintner’s, then to a herb-shop, then to one where oranges, lemons, and citrons were sold, then to a grocer’s, next to a confectioner’s, and a druggist’s, with my basket upon my head as full as I was able to carry it; then I came hither, where you had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now, a favour that I shall never forget.  This, madam, is my history.”

When the porter had done, Zobeide said to him, “Depart, let us see you here no more.”  “Madam,” replied the porter, “I beg you to let me stay; it would not be just, after the rest have had the pleasure to hear my history, that I should not also have the satisfaction of hearing theirs.”  And having spoken thus, he sat down at the end of the sofa, glad at heart to have escaped the danger that had frightened him so much.  After him, one of the three calenders directing his speech to Zobeide, as the principal of the three ladies, began thus:

The History of the First Calender.

Madam, in order to inform you how I lost my right eye, and why I was obliged to put myself into a calender’s habit, I must tell you, that I am a sultan’s son born:  my father had a brother who reigned over a neighbouring kingdom; and the prince his son and I were nearly of the same age.

After I had learned my exercises, the sultan my father granted me such liberty as suited my dignity.  I went regularly every year to see my uncle, at whose court I amused myself for a month or two, and then returned again to my father’s.  These journeys cemented a firm and intimate friendship between the prince my cousin and myself.  The last time I saw him, he received me with greater demonstrations of tenderness than he had done at any time before; and resolving one day to give me a treat, he made great preparations for that purpose.  We continued a long time at table, and after we had both supped; “Cousin,” said he, “you will hardly be able to guess how I have been employed since your last departure from hence, about a year past.  I have had a great many men at work to perfect a design I have formed; I have caused an edifice to be built, which is now finished so as to be habitable:  you will not be displeased if I shew it you.  But first you are to promise me upon oath, that you will keep my secret, according to the confidence I repose in you.”

The affection and familiarity that subsisted between us would not allow me to refuse him any thing.  I very readily took the oath required of me:  upon which he said to me, “Stay here till I return, I will be with you in a moment;” and accordingly he came with a lady in his hand, of singular beauty, and magnificently apparelled:  he did not intimate who she was, neither did I think it would be polite to enquire.  We sat down again with this lady at table, where we continued some time, conversing upon indifferent subjects; and now and then filling a glass to each other’s health.  After which the prince said, “Cousin, we must lose no time; therefore pray oblige me by taking this lady along with you, and conducting her to such a place, where you will see a tomb newly built in form of a dome:  you will easily know it; the gate is open; enter it together, and tarry till I come, which will be very speedily.”

Being true to my oath, I made no farther enquiry, but took the lady by the hand, and by the directions which the prince my cousin had given me, I brought her to the place.  We were scarcely got thither, when we saw the prince following us, carrying a pitcher of water, a hatchet, and a little bag of mortar.

The hatchet served him to break down the empty sepulchre in the middle of the tomb; he took away the stones one after another, and laid them in a corner; he then dug up the ground, where I saw a trap-door under the sepulchre, which he lifted up, and underneath perceived the head of a staircase leading into a vault.  Then my cousin, speaking to the lady, said, “Madam, it is by this way that we are to go to the place I told you of:”  upon which the lady advanced, and went down, and the prince began to follow; but first turning to me, said, “My dear cousin, I am infinitely obliged to you for the trouble you have taken; I thank you.  Adieu.”  “Dear cousin,” I cried, “what is the meaning of this?” “Be content,” replied he; “you may return the way you came.”

I could get nothing farther from him, but was obliged to take my leave.  As I returned to my uncle’s palace, the vapours of the wine got up into my head; however, I reached my apartment, and went to bed.  Next morning, when I awoke, I began to reflect upon what had happened, and after recollecting all the circumstances of such a singular adventure, I fancied it was nothing but a dream.  Full of these thoughts, I sent to enquire if the prince my cousin was ready to receive a visit from me; but when they brought word back that he did not lie in his own lodgings that night, that they knew not what was become of him, and were in much trouble in consequence, I conceived that the strange event of the tomb was too true.  I was sensibly afflicted, and went to the public burying-place, where there were several tombs like that which I had seen:  I spent the day in viewing them one after another, but could not find that I sought for, and thus I spent four days successively in vain.

You must know, that all this while the sultan my uncle was absent, and had been hunting for several days; I grew weary of waiting for him, and having prayed his ministers to make my apology at his return, left his palace, and set out towards my father’s court.  I left the ministers of the sultan my uncle in great trouble, surmising what was become of the prince:  but because of my oath to keep his secret, I durst not tell them what I had seen.

I arrived at my father’s capital, where, contrary to custom, I found a numerous guard at the gate of the palace, who surrounded me as I entered.  I asked the reason, and the commanding officer replied, “Prince, the army has proclaimed the grand vizier, instead of your father, who is dead, and I take you prisoner in the name of the new sultan.”  At these words the guards laid hold of me, and carried me before the tyrant:  I leave you to judge, madam, how much I was surprised and grieved.

This rebel vizier, had long entertained a mortal hatred against me; for this reason.  When I was a stripling, I loved to shoot with a cross-bow; and being one day upon the terrace of the palace with my bow, a bird happening to come by, I shot but missed him, and the ball by misfortune hit the vizier, who was taking the air upon the terrace of his own house, and put out one of his eyes.  As soon as I understood this, I not only sent to make my excuse to him, but did it in person:  yet he never forgave me, and, as opportunity offered, made me sensible of his resentment.  But now that he had me in his power, he expressed his feelings; for he came to me like a madman, as soon as he saw me, and thrusting his finger into my right eye, pulled it out, and thus I became blind of one eye.

But the usurper’s cruelty did not stop here; he ordered me to be shut up in a machine, and commanded the executioner to carry me into the country, to cut off my head, and leave me to be devoured by birds of prey.  The executioner conveyed me thus shut up into the country, in order to execute the barbarous sentence; but by my prayers and tears, I moved the man’s compassion:  “Go,” said he to me, “get you speedily out of the kingdom, and take heed of returning, or you will certainly meet your own ruin, and be the cause of mine.”  I thanked him for the favour he did me; and as soon as I was left alone, comforted myself for the loss of my eye, by considering that I had very narrowly escaped a much greater evil.

Being in such a condition, I could not travel far at a time; I retired to remote places during the day, and travelled as far by night as my strength would allow me.  At last I arrived in the dominions of the sultan my uncle, and came to his capital.

I gave him a long detail of the tragical cause of my return, and of the sad condition he saw me in.  “Alas!” cried he, “was it not enough for me to have lost my son, but must I have also news of the death of a brother I loved so dearly, and see you reduced to this deplorable condition?” He told me how uneasy he was that he could hear nothing of his son, notwithstanding all the enquiry he could make.  At these words, the unfortunate father burst into tears, and was so much afflicted, that pitying his grief, it was impossible for me to keep the secret any longer; so that, notwithstanding my oath to the prince my cousin, I told the sultan all that I knew.

His majesty listened to me with some sort of comfort, and when I had done, “Nephew,” said he, “what you tell me gives me some hope.  I knew that my son ordered that tomb to be built, and I can guess pretty nearly the place; and with the idea you still have of it, I fancy we shall find it:  but since he ordered it to be built privately, and you took your oath to keep his secret, I am of opinion, that we ought to go in quest of it without other attendants.”  But he had another reason for keeping the matter secret, which he did not then tell me, and an important one it was, as you will perceive by the sequel of my story.

We disguised ourselves and went out by a door of the garden which opened into the fields, and soon found what we sought for.  I knew the tomb, and was the more rejoiced, because I had formerly sought it a long time in vain.  We entered, and found the iron trap pulled down at the head of the staircase; we had great difficulty in raising it, because the prince had fastened it inside with the water and mortar formerly mentioned, but at last we succeeded.

The sultan my uncle descended first, I followed, and we went down about fifty steps.  When we came to the foot of the stairs, we found a sort of antechamber, full of thick smoke of an ill scent, which obscured the lamp, that gave a very faint light.

From this antechamber we came into another, very large, supported by columns, and lighted by several branched candlesticks.  There was a cistern in the middle, and provisions of several sorts stood on one side of it; but we were much surprised not to see any person.  Before us there appeared a high estrade, which we mounted by several steps, and upon this there was a large bed, with curtains drawn.  The sultan went up, and opening the curtains, perceived the prince his son and the lady in bed together, but burnt and changed to cinder, as if they had been thrown into a fire, and taken out before they were consumed.

But what surprised me most was, that though this spectacle filled me with horror, the sultan my uncle, instead of testifying his sorrow to see the prince his son in such a condition, spat on his face, and exclaimed, with a disdainful air, “This is the punishment of this world, but that of the other will last to eternity;” and not content with this, he pulled off his sandal, and gave the corpse of his son a blow on the cheek.

I cannot adequately express how much I was astonished when I saw the sultan my uncle abuse his son thus after he was dead.  “Sir,” said I, “whatever grief this dismal sight has impressed upon me, I am forced to suspend it, to enquire of your majesty what crime the prince my cousin may have committed, that his corpse should deserve such indignant treatment?” “Nephew,” replied the sultan, “I must tell you, that my son (who is unworthy of that name) loved his sister from his infancy, as she did him:  I did not check their growing fondness, because I did not foresee its pernicious consequence.  This tenderness increased as they grew in years, and to such a height, that I dreaded the end of it.  At last, I applied such remedies as were in my power:  I not only gave my son a severe reprimand in private, laying before him the horrible nature of the passion he entertained, and the eternal disgrace he would bring upon my family, if he persisted; but I also represented the same to my daughter, and shut her up so close that she could have no conversation with her brother.  But that unfortunate creature had swallowed so much of the poison, that all the obstacles which by my prudence I could lay in the way served only to inflame her love.

“My son being persuaded of his sister’s constancy, on presence of building a tomb, caused this subterraneous habitation to be made, in hopes of finding one day or other an opportunity to possess himself of that objets which was the cause of his flame, and to bring her hither.  He took advantage of my absence, to enter by force into the place of his sister’s confinement; but this was a circumstance which my honour would not suffer me to make public.  And after so damnable an action, he came and shut himself up with her in this place, which he has supplied, as you see, with all sorts of provisions, that he might enjoy detestable pleasures, which ought to be a subject of horror to all the world; but God, who would not suffer such an abomination, has justly punished them both.”  At these words, he melted into tears, and I joined mine with his.

After a while, casting his eyes upon me, “Dear nephew,” cried he, embracing me, “if I have lost that unworthy son, I shall happily find in you what will better supply his place.”  The reflections he made on the doleful end of the prince and princess his daughter made us both weep afresh.

We ascended the stairs again, and departed at last from that dismal place.  We let down the trap door, and covered it with earth, and such other materials as the tomb was built of, on purpose to hide, as much as lay in our power, so terrible an effect of the wrath of God.

We had not been long returned to the palace, unperceived by any one, but we heard a confused noise of trumpets, drums, and other instruments of war.  We soon understood by the thick cloud of dust, which almost darkened the air, that it was the arrival of a formidable army:  and it proved to be the same vizier that had dethroned my father, and usurped his place, who with a vast number of troops was come to possess himself of that also of the sultan my uncle.

My uncle, who then had only his usual guards about him, could not resist so numerous an enemy; they invested the city, and the gates being opened to them without any resistance, soon became masters of it, and broke into the palace where my uncle defended himself, and sold his life at a dear rate.  I fought as valiantly for a while; but seeing we were forced to submit to a superior power, I thought on my retreat, which I had the good fortune to effect by some back ways, and got to one of the sultan’s servants on whose fidelity I could depend.

Being thus surrounded with sorrows and persecuted by fortune, I had recourse to a stratagem, which was the only means left me to save my life:  I caused my beard and eye-brows to be shaved, and putting on a calender’s habit, I passed, unknown by any, out of the city; after that, by degrees, I found it easy to quit my uncle’s kingdom, by taking the bye-roads.

I avoided passing through towns, until I had reached the empire of the mighty governor of the Moosulmauns, the glorious and renowned caliph Haroon al Rusheed, when I thought myself out of danger; and considering what I was to do, I resolved to come to Bagdad, intending to throw myself at the feet of that monarch, whose generosity is renowned throughout the world.  “I shall move him to compassion,” said I to myself, “by the relation of my uncommon misfortunes, and without doubt he will take pity on a persecuted prince, and not suffer me to implore his assistance in vain.”

In short, after a journey of several months, I arrived yesterday at the gate of this city, into which I entered about the dusk of evening; and stopping a little while to consider which way I was to turn, another calender came up; he saluted me, and I him:  “You appear,” said I, “to be a stranger, as I am.”  “You are not mistaken,” replied he.  He had no sooner returned this answer, than a third calender overtook us.  He saluted us, and told us he was a stranger newly come to Bagdad; so that as brethren we joined together, resolving not to separate from one another.

It was now late, and we knew not where to seek a lodging in the city, where we had never been before.  But good fortune having brought us to your gate, we made bold to knock, when you received us with so much kindness, that we are incapable of rendering suitable thanks.  “This, madam,” said he, “is, in obedience to your commands, the account I was to give how I lost my right eye, wherefore my beard and eye-brows are shaved, and how I came to be with you at this time.”

“It is enough,” said Zobeide; “you may retire to what place you think fit.”  The calender begged the ladies’ permission to stay till he had heard the relations of his two comrades, “Whom I cannot,” said he, “leave with honour;” and that he might also hear those of the three other persons in company.

The story of the first calender seemed wonderful to the whole company, but especially to the caliph, who, notwithstanding the slaves stood by with their cimeters drawn, could not forbear whispering to the vizier “Many stories have I heard, but never any that equalled in surprising incident that of the calender.”  Whilst he was saying this, the second calender began, addressing himself to Zobeide.

The Story of the Second Calender.

Madam, to obey your commands, and to shew you by what strange accident I became blind of the right eye, I must of necessity give you the account of my life.

I was scarcely past my infancy, when the sultan my father (for you must know I am a prince by birth) perceived that I was endowed with good natural ability, and spared nothing proper for improving it.

No sooner was I able to read and write, but I learned the Koraun from beginning to end by heart, that admirable book, which contains the foundation, the precepts, and the rules of our religion; and that I might be thoroughly instructed in it, I read the works of the most approved divines, by whose commentaries it had been explained.  I added to this study, that of all the traditions collected from the mouth of our prophet, by the great men that were contemporary with him.  I was not satisfied with the knowledge of all that had any relation to our religion, but made also a particular search into our histories.  I made myself perfect in polite learning, in the works of poets, and versification.  I applied myself to geography, chronology, and to speak the Arabian language in its purity; not forgetting in the meantime all such exercises as were proper for a prince to understand.  But one thing which I was fond of, and succeeded in, was penmanship; wherein I surpassed all the celebrated scribes of our kingdom.

Fame did me more honour than I deserved, for she not only spread the renown of my talents through all the dominions of the sultan my father, but carried it as far as the empire of Hindoostan, whose potent monarch, desirous to see me, sent an ambassador with rich presents:  my father, who rejoiced at this embassy for several reasons, was persuaded, that nothing could be more improving to a prince of my age than to travel and visit foreign courts; and he wished to gain the friendship of the Indian monarch.  I departed with the ambassador, but with no great retinue.

When we had travelled about a month, we discovered at a distance a cloud of dust, and under that we saw very soon fifty horsemen well armed, who were robbers, advancing towards us at full speed.

As we had ten horses laden with baggage, and presents to the sultan of Hindoostan, from my father, and my retinue was but small, you may easily judge that these robbers came boldly up to us; and not being in a posture to make any opposition, we told them, that we were ambassadors, and hoped they would attempt nothing contrary to the respect due to such sacred characters, thinking by this means to save our equipage and our lives:  but the robbers most insolently replied, “For what reason would you have us shew any respect to the sultan your master?  We are none of his subjects, nor are we upon his territories:”  having spoken thus, they surrounded and fell upon us:  I defended myself as long as I could; but finding myself wounded, and seeing the ambassador with his attendants and mine lying on the ground, I made use of what strength was yet remaining in my horse, who was also very much wounded, and rode away as fast as he could carry me; but he shortly after, from weariness and the loss of blood, fell down dead.  I cleared myself from him unhurt, and finding that I was not pursued, judged the robbers were not willing to quit the booty they had obtained.

Here you see me, alone, wounded, destitute of help, and in a strange country.  I durst not take the high road, fearing I might fall again into the hands of these robbers.  When I had bound up my wound, which was not dangerous, I walked on the rest of the day, and arrived at the foot of the mountain, where I perceived a passage into a cave; I went in, and staid there that night with little satisfaction, after I had eaten some fruits that I had gathered by the way.

I continued my journey for several days following, without finding any place of abode:  but after a month’s time, I came to a large town well inhabited, and situated so much the more advantageously, as it was surrounded by several streams, so that it enjoyed perpetual spring.

The pleasant objects which then presented themselves to my view afforded me some joy, and suspended for a time the sorrow with which I was overwhelmed.  My face, hands, and feet were black and sun-burnt; and, by my long journey, my boots were quite worn out, so that I was forced to walk bare-footed; and besides, my clothes were all in rags I entered the town to inform myself where I was, and addressed myself to a tailor that was at work in his shop; who, perceiving by my air that I was a person of more note than my outward appearance bespoke, made me sit down by him, and asked me who I was, from whence I came, and what had brought me thither?  I did not conceal anything that had befallen me, nor made I any scruple to discover my quality.

The tailor listened to me with attention; but after had done speaking, instead of giving me any consolation, he augmented my sorrow:  “Take heed,” said he, “how you discover to any person what you have related to me; for the prince of this country is the greatest enemy your father has, and he will certainly do you some mischief, should he hear of your being in this city.”  I made no doubt of the tailor’s sincerity, when he named the prince:  but since that enmity which is between my father and him has no relation to my adventures, I pass it over in silence.

I returned the tailor thanks for his advice, expressed himself disposed to follow his counsel, and assured him that his favours should never be forgotten.  He ordered something to be brought for me to eat, and offered me at the same time a lodging in his house, which I accepted.  Some days after, finding me tolerably well recovered of the fatigue I had endured by a long and tedious journey, and reflecting that most princes of our religion applied themselves to some art or calling that might be serviceable to them upon occasion, he asked me, if I had learned any whereby I might get a livelihood, and not be burdensome to others?  I told him that I understood the laws, both divine and human; that I was a grammarian and poet; and above all, that I could write with great perfection.  “By all this,” said he, “you will not be able, in this country, to purchase yourself one morsel of bread; nothing is of less use here than those sciences; but if you will be advised by me, dress yourself in a labourer’s habit; and since you appear to be strong, and of a good constitution, you shall go into the next forest and cut fire-wood, which you may bring to the market to be sold; and I can assure you this employment will turn to so good an account that you may live by it, without dependence upon any man; and by this means you will be in a condition to wait for the favourable minute, when heaven shall think fit to dispel those clouds of misfortune that thwart your happiness, and oblige you to conceal your birth; I will take care to supply you with a rope and a hatchet.”

The fear of being known, and the necessity I was under of getting a livelihood, made me agree to this proposal, notwithstanding the meanness and hardships that attended it.  The day following the tailor brought me a rope, a hatchet, and a short coat, and recommended me to some poor people who gained their bread after the same manner, that they might take me into their company.  They conducted me to the wood, and the first day I brought in as much upon my head as procured me half a piece of gold, of the money of that country; for though the wood was not far distant from the town, yet it was very scarce, by reason that few would be at the trouble of fetching it for themselves.  I gained a good sum of money in a short time, and repaid my tailor what he had advanced to me.

I continued this way of living for a whole year.  One day, having by chance penetrated farther into the wood than usual, I happened to light on a pleasant spot, where I began to cut; and in pulling up the root of a tree, I espied an iron ring, fastened to a trap door of the same metal.  I took away the earth that covered it, and having lifted it up, discovered a flight of stairs, which I descended with my axe in my hand.

When I had reached the bottom, I found myself in a palace, and felt great consternation, on account of a great light which appeared as clear in it as if it had been above ground in the open air.  I went forward along a gallery, supported by pillars of jasper, the base and capitals of messy gold:  but seeing a lady of a noble and graceful air, extremely beautiful, coming towards me, my eyes were taken off from every other objets.

Being desirous to spare the lady the trouble of coming to me, I hastened to meet her; and as I was saluting her with a low obeisance, she asked me, “What are you, a man or a genie?” “A man, madam,” said I; “I have no correspondence with genies.”  “By what adventure,” said she, fetching a deep sigh, “are you come hither?  I have lived here twenty-five years, and you are the first man I have beheld in that time.”

Her great beauty, which had already smitten me, and the sweetness and civility wherewith she received me, emboldened me to say, “Madam, before I have the honour to satisfy your curiosity, give me leave to tell you, that I am infinitely gratified with this unexpected meeting, which offers me an occasion of consolation in the midst of my affliction; and perhaps it may give me an opportunity of making you also more happy than you are.”  I related to her by what strange accident she beheld me, the son of a sultan, in such a condition as I appeared in her presence; and how fortune had directed that I should discover the entrance into that magnificent prison where I had found her, according to appearance, in an unpleasant situation.

“Alas! prince,” said she, sighing once more, “you have just cause to believe this rich and pompous prison cannot be otherwise than a most wearisome abode:  the most charming place in the world being no way delightful when we are detained there contrary to our will.  It is not possible but you have heard of the sultan of the isle of Ebene, so called from that precious wood which it produces in abundance; I am the princess his daughter.

“The sultan, my father, had chosen for me a husband, a prince who was my cousin; but on my wedding-night, in the midst of the rejoicings of the court and capital, before I was conducted to my husband, a genie took me away.  I fainted with alarm, and when I recovered, found myself in this place.  I was long inconsolable, but time and necessity have accustomed me to see and receive the genie.  Twenty-five years I have continued in this place, where, I must confess, I have all that I can wish for necessary to life, and also every thing that can satisfy a princess fond of dress and splendour.

“Every ten days,” continued the princess, “the genie comes hither, and remains with me one night, which he never exceeds; and the excuse he makes for it is, that he is married to another wife, who would grow jealous if she should know his infidelity.  Meanwhile, if I have occasion for him by day or night, as soon as I touch a talisman, which is at the entrance into my chamber, the genie appears.  It is now the fourth day since he was here, and I do not expect him before the end of six more; so, if you please, you may stay five days, and I will endeavour to entertain you according to your quality and merit.”  I thought myself too fortunate, to have obtained so great a favour without asking, to refuse so obliging an offer.  The princess made me go into a bath, the most commodious, and the most sumptuous imaginable; and when I came forth, instead of my own clothes I found another very costly suit, which I did not esteem so much for its richness, as because it made me appear worthy to be in her company.  We sat down on a sofa covered with rich tapestry, with cushions of the rarest Indian brocade; and some time after she covered a table with several dishes of delicate meats.  We ate, and passed the remaining part of the day with much satisfaction, as also the evening, together.

The next day, as she contrived every means to please me, she brought in, at dinner, a bottle of old wine, the most excellent that ever was tasted, and out of complaisance drank some part of it with me.  When my head grew warm with the agreeable liquor, “Fair princess,” said I, “you have been too long thus buried alive; follow me, enjoy the real day, of which you have been deprived so many years, and abandon this artificial though brilliant glare.”  “Prince,” replied she, with a smile, “leave this discourse; if you out of ten days will grant me nine, and resign the last to the genie, the fairest day would be nothing in my esteem.”  “Princess,” said I, “it is the fear of the genie that makes you speak thus; for my part, I value him so little, that I will break in pieces his talisman, with the conjuration that is written about it.  Let him come, I will expect him; and how brave or redoubtable soever he be, I will make him feel the weight of my arm:  I swear solemnly that I will extirpate all the genies in the world, and him first.”  The princess, who knew the consequence, conjured me not to touch the talisman.  “For that would be the means,” said she, “of ruining both you and me; I know what belongs to genies better than you.”  The fumes of the wine did not suffer me to hearken to her reasons; but I gave the talisman a kick with my foot, and broke it in several pieces.

The talisman was no sooner broken than the palace began to shake, and seemed ready to fall, with a hideous noise like thunder, accompanied with flashes of lightning, and alternate darkness.  This terrible noise in a moment dispelled the fumes of my wine, and made me sensible, but too late, of the folly I had committed.  “Princess,” cried I, “what means all this?” She answered, without any concern for her own misfortune, “Alas! you are undone, if you do not fly immediately.”

I followed her advice, but my fears were so great, that I forgot my hatchet and cords.  I had scarcely reached the stairs by which I had descended, when the enchanted palace opened at once, and made a passage for the genie:  he asked the princess in great anger, “What has happened to you, and why did you call me?” “A violent spasm,” said the princess, “made me fetch this bottle which you see here, out of which I drank twice or thrice, and by mischance made a false step, and fell upon the talisman, which is broken, and that is all.”

At this answer, the furious genie told her, “You are a false woman, and speak not the truth; how came that axe and those cords there?” “I never saw them till this moment,” said the princess.  “Your coming in such an impetuous manner has, it may be, forced them up in some place as you came along, and so brought them hither without your knowing it.”

The genie made no other answer but what was accompanied with reproaches and blows, of which I heard the noise.  I could not endure to hear the pitiful cries of the princess so cruelly abused.  I had already taken off the suit she had presented to me, and put on my own, which I had laid on the stairs the day before, when I came out of the bagnio:  I made haste upstairs, the more distracted with sorrow and compassion, as I had been the cause of so great a misfortune; and by sacrificing the fairest princess on earth to the barbarity of a merciless genie, I was becoming the most criminal and ungrateful of mankind.  “It is true,” said I, “she has been a prisoner these twenty-five years; but, liberty excepted she wanted nothing that could make her happy.  My folly has put an end to her happiness, and brought upon her the cruelty of an unmerciful devil.”  I let down the trap-door, covered it again with earth, and returned to the city with a burden of wood, which I bound up without knowing what I did, so great was my trouble and sorrow.

My landlord, the tailor, was very much rejoiced to see me:  “Your absence,” said he, “has disquieted me much, as you had entrusted me with the secret of your birth, and I knew not what to think; I was afraid somebody had discovered you; God be praised for your return.”  I thanked him for his zeal and affection, but not a word durst I say of what had passed, nor of the reason why I came back without my hatchet and cords.

I retired to my chamber, where I reproached myself a thousand times for my excessive imprudence:  “Nothing,” said I, “could have paralleled the princess’s good fortune and mine, had I forborne to break the talisman.”

While I was thus giving myself over to melancholy thoughts, the tailor came in and said, “An old man, whom I do not know, brings your hatchet and cords, which he found in his way as he tells me, and says he understood from your comrades that you lodge here; come out and speak to him, for he will deliver them to none but yourself.”

At these words I changed colour, and fell a trembling.  While the tailor was asking me the reason, my chamber-door opened, and the old man, having no patience to stay, appeared to us with my hatchet and cords.  This was the genie, the ravisher of the fair princess of the isle of Ebene, who had thus disguised himself, after he had treated her with the utmost barbarity.  “I am a genie,” said he, speaking to me, “son of the daughter of Eblis, prince of genies:  is not this your hatchet, and are not these your cords?”

After the genie had put the question to me, he gave me no time to answer, nor was it in my power, so much had his terrible aspect disordered me.  He grasped me by the middle, dragged me out of the chamber, and mounting into the air, carried me up to the skies with such swiftness, that I was not able to take notice of the way he conveyed me.  He descended again in like manner to the earth, which on a sudden he caused to open with a stroke of his foot, and sunk down at once, when I found myself in the enchanted palace, before the fair princess of the isle of Ebene.  But, alas! what a spectacle was there!  I saw what pierced me to the heart; this poor princess was quite naked, weltering in her blood, and laid upon the ground, more like one dead than alive, with her cheeks bathed in tears.

“Perfidious wretch!” said the genie to her, pointing at me, “is not this your gallant?” She cast her languishing eyes upon me, and answered mournfully, “I do not know him, I never saw him till this moment.”  “What!” said the genie, “he is the cause of thy being in the condition thou art justly in; and yet darest thou say thou cost not know him?” “If I do not know him,” said the princess, “would you have me lie on purpose to ruin him?” “Oh then,” said the genie, pulling out a cimeter and presenting it to the princess, “if you never saw him before, take this, and cut off his head.”  “Alas,” replied the princess, “how is it possible that I should execute such an act?  My strength is so far spent that I cannot lift up my arm; and if I could, how should I have the heart to take away the life of an innocent man, and one whom I do not know?” “This refusal,” said the genie to the princess, “sufficiently informs me of your crime.”  Upon which, turning to me, “And thou,” said he, “dost thou not know her?”

I should have been the most ungrateful wretch, and the most perfidious of all mankind, if I had not strewn myself as faithful to the princess as she had been to me, who had been the cause of her misfortunes.  I therefore answered the genie, “How should I know her, when I never saw her till now?” “If it be so,” said he, “take the cimeter and cut off her head:  on this condition I will set thee at liberty, for then I shall be convinced that thou hast never seen her till this moment, as thou gayest.”  “With all my heart,” replied I, and took the cimeter in my hand.

Do not think, madam, that I drew near to the fair princess of the isle of Ebene to be the executioner of the genie’s barbarity.  I did it only to demonstrate by my behaviour, as much as possible, that as she had strewn her resolution to sacrifice her life for my sake, I would not refuse to sacrifice mine for hers.  The princess, notwithstanding her pain and suffering, understood my meaning; which she signified by an obliging look, and made me understand her willingness to die for me; and that she was satisfied to see how ready I was also to die for her.  Upon this I stepped back, and threw the cimeter on the ground.  “I should for ever,” said I to the genie, “be hateful to all mankind were I to be so base as to murder, not only a person whom I do not know, but a lady like this, who is already on the point of expiring:  do with me what you please, since I am in your power; I cannot obey your barbarous commands.”

“I see,” said the genie, “that you both out-brave me, and insult my jealousy; but both of you shall know by my treatment of you of what I am capable.”  At these words the monster took up the cimeter and cut off one of her hands, which left her only so much life as to give me a token with the other that she bade me for ever adieu.  For the blood she had lost before, and that which gushed out then, did not permit her to live above one or two moments after this barbarous cruelty; the sight of which threw me into a fit.  When I was come to myself again, I expostulated with the genie, why he made me languish in expectation of death:  “Strike,” cried I, “for I am ready to receive the mortal blow, and expect it as the greatest favour you can show me.”  But instead of agreeing to that, “Behold,” said he, “how genies treat their wives whom they suspect of unfaithfulness; she has received thee here, and were I certain that she had put any further affront upon me, I would put thee to death this minute:  but I will content myself with transforming thee into a dog, ape, lion, or bird; take thy choice of any of these, I will leave it to thyself.”

These words gave me some hopes of being able to appease him:  “O genie,” said I, “moderate your passion, and since you will not take away my life, give it me generously.  I shall always remember your clemency, if you pardon me, as one of the best men in the world pardoned one of his neighbours that bore him a mortal hatred.”  The genie asked me what had passed between those two neighbours, and said, he would have patience till he heard the story, which I related to him; and I believe, madam, you will not be displeased if I now repeat it.

The Story of the Envious Man, and of him that he Envied.

In a considerable town two persons dwelt in adjoining houses.  One of them conceived such a violent hatred against the other, that the hated party resolved to remove to a distance, being persuaded that their being neighbours was the only cause of this animosity; for though he had done him several pieces of service, he found that his hatred was not diminished; he therefore sold his house, with what goods he had left, and retired to the capital city of a kingdom which was not far distant.  Here he bought a little spot of ground, which lay about half a league from the city; where he had a convenient house, with a garden, and a pretty spacious court, wherein there was a deep well, which was not in use.

The honest man having made this purchase put on a dervise’s habit, intending to lead a retired life, and caused several cells to be made in the house, where in a short time he established a numerous society of dervises.  He soon came to be publicly known by his virtue, through which he acquired the esteem of many people, as well of the commonalty as of the chief of the city.  In short, he was much honoured and courted by all ranks.  People came from afar to recommend themselves to his prayers; and all who visited him, published what blessings they received through his means.

The great reputation of this honest man having spread to the town from whence he had come, it touched the envious man so much to the quick, that he left his house and affairs with a resolution to ruin him.  With this intent he went to the new convent of dervises, of which his former neighbour was the head, who received him with all imaginable tokens of friendship.  The envious man told him that he was come on purpose to communicate a business of importance, which he could not do but in private; and “that nobody may hear us, let us,” said he, “take a walk in your court; and seeing night begins to draw on, command your dervises to retire to their cells.”  The chief of the dervises did as he was required.

When the envious man saw that he was alone with this good man, he began to tell him his errand, walking side by side in the court, till he saw his opportunity; and getting the good man near the brink of the well, he gave him a thrust, and pushed him into it, without being seen by any one.  Having done thus, he returned, got out at the gate of the convent without being known, and reached his own house well satisfied with his journey, being fully persuaded that the object of his hatred was no more; but he found himself mistaken.

This old well was inhabited by fairies and genies, which happened luckily for the relief of the head of the convent; for they received and supported him, and carried him to the bottom, so that he got no hurt.  He perceived that there was something extraordinary in his fall, which must otherwise have cost him his life; but he neither saw nor felt anything.  He soon heard a voice, however, which said, “Do you know what honest man this is, to whom we have done this piece of service?” Another voice answered, “No.”  To which the first replied, “Then I will tell you.  This man out of charity, the purest ever known, left the town he lived in, and has established himself in this place, in hopes to cure one of his neighbours of the envy he had conceived against him; he had acquired such a general esteem, that the envious man, not able to endure it, came hither on purpose to ruin him; and he would have accomplished his design, had it not been for the assistance we have given this honest man, whose reputation is so great, that the sultan, who keeps his residence in the neighbouring city, was to pay him a visit to-morrow, to recommend the princess his daughter to his prayers.”

Another voice asked, “What need had the princess of the dervise’s prayers?” To which the first answered, “You do not know, it seems, that she is possessed by genie Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, who is fallen in love with her.  But I well know how this good head of the dervises may cure her; the thing is very easy, and I will explain it to you.  He has a black cat in his convent, with a white spot at the end of her tail, about the bigness of a small piece of Arabian money; let him only pull seven hairs out of the white spot, burn them, and smoke the princess’s head with the fume, she will not only be immediately cured, but be so safely delivered from Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, that he will never dare to approach her again.”

The head of the dervises remembered every word of the conversation between the fairies and the genies, who remained silent the remainder of the night.  The next morning, as soon as daylight appeared, and he could discern the nature of his situation, the well being broken down in several places, he saw a hole, by which he crept out with ease.

The other dervises, who had been seeking for him, were rejoiced to see him; he gave them a brief account of the wickedness of the man to whom he had given so kind a reception the day before, and retired into his cell.  Shortly after the black cat, which the fairies and the genies had mentioned the night before, came to fawn upon her master, as she was accustomed to do; he took her up, and pulled seven hairs from the white spot that was upon her tail, and laid them aside for his use when occasion should serve.

Soon after sunrise the sultan, who would leave no means untried that he thought likely to restore the princess to perfect health, arrived at the gate of the convent.  He commanded his guards to halt, whilst he with his principal officers went in.  The dervises received him with profound respect.

The sultan called their chief aside, and said, “Good Sheik, you may probably be already acquainted with the cause of my visit.”  “Yes, Sir,” replied he gravely, “if I do not mistake, it is the disease of the princess which procures me this unmerited honour.”  “That is the real case,” replied the sultan.  “You will give me new life if your prayers, as I hope they may, restore my daughter’s health.”  “Sir,” said the good man, “if your majesty will be pleased to let her come hither, I am in hopes, through God’s assistance and favour, that she will be effectually cured.”

The prince, transported with joy, sent immediately for his daughter, who soon appeared with a numerous train of ladies and eunuchs, but veiled, so that her face was not seen.  The chief of the dervises caused a pall to be held over her head, and he had no sooner thrown the seven hairs upon the burning coals, than the genie Maimoun, the son of Dimdim, uttered a great cry, and without being seen, left the princess at liberty; upon which, she took the veil from her face, and rose up to see where she was, saying, “Where am I, and who brought me hither?” At these words the sultan, overcome with excess of joy, embraced his daughter, and kissed her eyes; he also kissed the chief of the dervises’ hands, and said to his officers, “What reward does he deserve that has thus cured my daughter?” They all cried, “He deserves her in marriage.”  “That is what I had in my thoughts,” said the sultan; “and I make him my son-in-law from this moment.”  Some time after the prime vizier died, and the sultan conferred the place on the dervise.  The sultan himself also died without heirs male; upon which the religious orders and the militia consulted together, and the good man was declared and acknowledged sultan by general consent.

The honest dervise, having ascended the throne of his father-in-law, as he was one day in the midst of his courtiers on a march, espied the envious man among the crowd that stood as he passed along, and calling one of the viziers that attended him, whispered him in his ear, “Go, bring me that man you see there; but take care you do not frighten him.”  The vizier obeyed, and when the envious man was brought into his presence, the sultan said, “Friend, I am extremely glad to see you.”  Upon which he called an officer, “Go immediately,” said he, “and cause to be paid to this man out of my treasury, one hundred pieces of gold:  let him have also twenty loads of the richest merchandize in my storehouses, and a sufficient guard to conduit him to his house.”  After he had given this charge to the officer, he bade the envious man farewell, and proceeded on his march.

When I had finished the recital of this story to the genie, the murderer of the princess of the isle of Ebene, I made an application of it to himself:  “O genie!” said I, “this bountiful sultan was not satisfied with merely overlooking the design of the envious man to take away his life, but also treated him kindly, and sent him back loaded with the favours I have enumerated.”  In short, I employed all my eloquence to persuade him to imitate so good an example, and to grant me pardon; but it was impossible to move his compassion.

“All that I can do for thee,” said he, “is, to grant thee thy life; but do not flatter thyself that I will allow thee to return safe and well; I must let thee feel what I am able to do by my enchantments.”  So saying, he seized me violently, and carried me through the arched roof of the subterraneous palace, which opened to give him passage; he ascended with me into the air to such a height, that the earth appeared like a little white cloud; he then descended again like lightning, and alighted upon the summit of a mountain.

Here he took up a handful of earth, and pronouncing, or rather muttering, some words which I did not understand, threw it upon me.  “Quit,” said he, “the form of a man, and take that of an ape.”  He instantly disappeared, and left me alone, transformed into an ape, and overwhelmed with sorrow in a strange country, not knowing whether I was near or far from my father’s dominions.

I descended the mountain, and entered a plain level country, which took me a month to travel over, and then I came to the sea-side.  It happened at the time to be perfectly calm, and I espied a vessel about half a league from the shore:  unwilling to lose so good an opportunity, I broke off a large branch from a tree, carried it into the sea, and placed myself astride upon it, with a stick in each hand to serve me for oars.

I launched out in this posture, and rowed towards the ship.  When I had approached sufficiently near to be seen, I exhibited to the seamen and passengers on the deck an extraordinary spectacle, and all of them regarded me with astonishment.  In the meantime I got on board, and laying hold of a rope, jumped upon the deck, but having lost my speech I found myself in great perplexity:  and indeed the risk I ran was not less than when I was at the mercy of the genie.

The merchants, being both superstitious and scrupulous, thought if they received me on board I should be the occasion of some misfortune to them during their voyage.  On this account one of them said, “I will destroy him with a blow of this handspike;” another, “I will shoot an arrow through his body;” and a third, “Let us throw him into the sea.”  Some one of them would not have failed to carry his threat into execution had I not gone to the captain, thrown myself at his feet, and taken hold of his skirt in a supplicating posture.  This action, together with the tears which he saw gush from my eyes, moved his compassion.  He took me under his protection, threatened to be revenged on any one that would do me the least hurt, and loaded me with a thousand caresses.  On my part, though I had not power to speak, I showed by my gestures every mark of gratitude in my power.

The wind that succeeded the calm was not strong, but favourable; it continued to blow in the same direction for fifty days, and brought us safe to the port of a city, well peopled, and of great trade, the capital of a powerful state, where we came to anchor.

Our vessel was instantly surrounded with an infinite number of boats full of people, who came to congratulate their friends on their safe arrival, or to inquire for those they had left behind them in the country from whence they had come, or out of curiosity to see a ship that had performed so long a voyage.

Amongst the rest, some officers came on board, desiring in the name of the sultan to speak with the merchants.  The merchants appearing, one of the officers told them, “The sultan our master hath commanded us to acquaint you, that he rejoices in your safe arrival, and beseeches each of you to take the trouble to write a few lines upon this roll.  That you may understand the design of this request, you must know that we had a prime vizier, who besides possessing great abilities for the management of public affairs could write in the highest perfection.  This minister a few days since died.  The event has greatly affected the sultan; and since he can never behold his writing without admiration, he has made a solemn vow, not to give the place to any one who cannot write equally well.  Many have presented specimens of their skill; but to this day, no one in the empire has been judged worthy to supply the vizier’s place.”

Those of the merchants who thought they could write well enough to aspire to this high dignity, wrote one after another what they thought fit.  After they had done, I advanced, and took the roll out of the gentleman’s hand; but all the people, especially the merchants, cried out, that I would tear it, or throw it into the sea, till they saw how properly I held the roll, and made a sign that I would write in my turn:  their apprehensions then changed into wonder.  However, as they had never seen an ape that could write, and could not be persuaded that I was more ingenious than others of my kind, they wished to take the roll out of my hand; but the captain took my part once more.  “Let him alone,” said he, “allow him to write.  If he only scribbles the paper, I promise you that I will immediately punish him.  If, on the contrary, he writes well, as I hope he will, because I never saw an ape so clever and ingenious, and so quick of apprehension, I declare that I will adopt him as my son.”  Perceiving that no one opposed my design, I took the pen, and wrote six sorts of hands used among the Arabians, and each specimen contained an extemporary distich or quatrain in praise of the sultan.  My writing not only excelled that of the merchants, but was such as they had not before seen in that country.  When I had done, the officers took the roll, and carried it to the sultan.

The sultan took little notice of any of the writings, except mine, which pleased him so much that he said to the officers, “Take the finest horse in my stable, with the richest trappings, and a robe of the most sumptuous brocade to put on the person who wrote the six hands, and bring him thither.”  At this command the officers could not forbear laughing.  The sultan was incensed at their rudeness, and would have punished them had they not explained:  “Sir,” said they, “we humbly beg your majesty’s pardon:  these hands were not written by a man, but by an ape.”  “What do you say?” exclaimed the sultan.  “Those admirable characters, are they not written by the hands of a man?” “No, Sir,” replied the officers; “we assure your majesty that it was an ape, who wrote them in our presence.”  The sultan was too much surprised at this account not to desire a sight of me, and therefore said, “Do what I command you, and bring me speedily that wonderful ape.”

The officers returned to the vessel and shewed the captain their order, who answered, “The sultan’s command must be obeyed.”  Whereupon they clothed me with the rich brocade robe, and carried me ashore, where they set me on horseback, whilst the sultan waited for me at his palace with a great number of courtiers, whom he gathered together to do me the more honour.

The procession commenced; the harbour, the streets, the public places, windows, terraces, palaces, and houses, were filled with an infinite number of people of all ranks, who flocked from every part of the city to see me; for the rumour was spread in a moment, that the sultan had chosen an ape to be his grand vizier, and after having served for a spectacle to the people, who could not forbear to express their surprise by redoubling their shouts and cries, I arrived at the sultan’s palace.

I found the prince on his throne in the midst of the grandees; I made my obeisance three times very low, and at last kneeled and kissed the ground before him, and afterwards took my seat in the posture of an ape.  The whole assembly viewed me with admiration, and could not comprehend how it was possible that an ape should so well understand how to pay the sultan his due respect; and he himself was more astonished than any.  In short, the usual ceremony of the audience would have been complete, could I have added speech to my behaviour; but apes never speak, and the advantage I had of having been a man did not now yield me that privilege.

The sultan dismissed his courtiers, and none remained by him but the chief of the eunuchs, a little young slave, and myself.  He went from his chamber of audience into his own apartment, where he ordered dinner to be brought.  As he sat at table he made me a sign to approach and eat with them:  to shew my obedience I kissed the ground, arose, and placed myself at the table, and ate with discretion and moderation.

Before the table was cleared, I espied a standish, which I made a sign to have brought me; having got it, I wrote upon a large peach some verses expressive of my acknowledgment to the sultan; who having read them after I had presented the peach to him, was still more astonished.  When the things were removed, they brought him a particular liquor, of which he caused them to give me a glass.  I drank, and wrote upon the glass some new verses, which explained the state I was reduced to, after many sufferings.  The sultan read these likewise, and said, “A man that was capable of doing so much would be above the greatest of his species.”

The sultan caused to be brought to him a chessboard, and asked me by a sign if I understood that game, and would play with him?  I kissed the ground, and laying my hand upon my head, signified that I was ready to receive that honour.  He won the first game, but I won the second and third; and perceiving he was somewhat displeased at my success, I made a quatrain to satisfy him; in which I told him that two potent armies had been fighting furiously all day, but that they concluded a peace towards the evening, and passed the remaining part of the night very amicably together upon the field of battle.

So many circumstances appearing to the sultan beyond whatever had either been seen or known of the cleverness or sense of apes, he determined not to be the only witness of these prodigies himself, but having a daughter, called the Lady of Beauty, on whom the chief of the eunuchs, then present, waited; “Go,” said the sultan to him, “and bid your lady come hither:  I am desirous she should share my pleasure.”

The eunuch went, and immediately brought the princess, who had her face uncovered; but she had no sooner come into the room, than she put on her veil, and said to the sultan, “Sir, your majesty must needs have forgotten yourself; I am surprised that your majesty has sent for me to appear among men.”  “How, daughter!” said the sultan, “you do not know what you say:  there is no one here, but the little slave, the eunuch your governor, and myself, who have the liberty to see your face; and yet you lower your veil, and blame me for having sent for you.”  “Sir,” said the princess, “your majesty shall soon understand that I am not in the wrong.  That seeming ape is a young prince, son of a powerful sultan, and has been metamorphosed into an ape by enchantment.  A genie, son of the daughter of Eblis, has maliciously done him this wrong, after having cruelly taken away the life of the princess of the isle of Ebene.”

The sultan, astonished at this declaration, turned towards me, and speaking no more by signs, but in plain words, asked me, if what his daughter said was true?  Finding I could not speak, I put my hand to my head’ to signify that what the princess spoke was correct.  Upon this the sultan said again to his daughter, “How do you know that this prince has been transformed by enchantments into an ape?” “Sir,” replied the Lady of Beauty, “your majesty may remember that when I was past my infancy I had an old lady who waited on me; she was a most expert magician, and taught me seventy rules of magic, by virtue of which I can, in the twinkling of an eye, transport your capital into the midst of the sea, or beyond mount Caucasus.  By this science I know all enchanted persons at first sight:  I know who they are, and by whom they have been enchanted; therefore do not be surprised if I should forthwith relieve this prince, in spite of the enchantments, from that which prevents his appearing in your sight in his natural form.”  “Daughter,” said the sultan, “I did not believe you to have understood so much.”  “Sir,” replied the princess, “these things are curious and worth knowing; but I think I ought not to boast of them.”  “Since it is so,” said the sultan, “you can dispel the prince’s enchantment.”  “Yes, sir,” said the princess, “I can restore him to his original shape.”  “Do it then,” said the sultan, “you cannot do me a greater pleasure; for I will have him to be my vizier, and he shall marry you.”  “Sir,” said the princess, “I am ready to obey you in all that you should be pleased to command me.”

The princess, the Lady of Beauty, went into her apartment, and brought thence a knife, which had some Hebrew words engraven on the blade:  she made the sultan, the master of the eunuchs, the little slave, and myself, descend into a private court of the palace, and there left us under a gallery that went round it.  She placed herself in the middle of the court, where she made a great circle, and within it she wrote several words in Arabian characters, some of them ancient.

When she had finished and prepared the circle as she thought fit, she placed herself in the centre of it, where she began incantations, and repeated verses of the Koraun.  The air grew insensibly dark, as if it had been night, and the whole world were about to be dissolved:  we found ourselves struck with consternation, and our fear increased when we saw the genie, the son of the daughter of Eblis, appear suddenly in the shape of a lion of a gigantic size.

As soon as the princess perceived this monster, “Dog,” said she, “instead of creeping before me, dare you present yourself in this shape, thinking to frighten me?” “And thou,” replied the lion, “art thou not afraid to break the treaty which was solemnly made and confirmed between us by oath, not to wrong or do one another any injury?” “Wretch,” replied the princess, “I justly may reproach thee with having done so.”  The lion answered fiercely, “Thou shalt quickly have thy reward for the trouble thou hast given me:”  with that he opened his monstrous jaws, and sprang forward to devour her; but she, being on her guard, stepped back, got time to pull out one of her hairs, and by pronouncing three or four words, changed it into a sharp sword, with which she cut the lion in two through the middle.

The two parts of the lion disappeared, while the head changed into a large scorpion.  Immediately the princess turned herself into a serpent, and fought the scorpion, who, finding himself worsted, took the shape of an eagle, and flew away:  but the serpent at the same time took also the shape of an eagle, that was black and much stronger, and pursued him, so that we lost sight of them both.

Some time after they had disappeared, the ground opened before us, and out of it came forth a black and white cat, with her hair standing on end, and mewing in a frightful manner; a black wolf followed close after her, and gave her no time to rest.  The cat, being thus hard pressed, changed into a worm, and being near a pomegranate accidentally fallen from a tree on the side of a canal which was deep, but not broad, pierced the pomegranate in an instant, and hid itself, but the pomegranate swelled immediately, and became as big as a gourd, which, mounting up to the roof of the gallery, rolled there for some time backward and forward; it then fell down again into the court, and broke into several pieces.

The wolf had in the meanwhile transformed itself into a cock, and now fell to picking up the seeds of the pomegranate one after another; but finding no more, he came towards us with his wings spread, making a great noise, as if he would ask us whether there were any more seed.  There was one lying on the brink of the canal, which the cock perceiving as he went back, ran speedily thither; but just as he was going to pick it up, the seed rolled into the river, and turned into a little fish.

The cock leaped into the river, turned into a pike, and pursued the small fish; they continued both under water above two hours, and we knew not what was become of them, but suddenly we heard terrible cries, which made us tremble, and a little while after we saw the genie and princess all in flames.  They threw flashes of fire out of their mouths at each other, till they came to close combat; then the two fires increased, with a thick burning smoke which mounted so high that we had reason to apprehend it would set the palace on fire.  But we very soon had a more pressing occasion of fear, for the genie having got loose from the princess, came to the gallery where we stood, and blew flames of fire upon us.  We must all have perished had not the princess, running to our assistance, forced him to retire, and defend himself against her; yet, notwithstanding all her exertions, she could not hinder the sultan’s beard from being burnt, and his face scorched, the chief of the eunuchs from being stifled, and a spark from entering my right eye, and making it blind.  The sultan and I expected but death, when we heard a cry of “Victory!  Victory!” and instantly the princess appeared in her natural shape, but the genie was reduced to a heap of ashes.

The princess approached us, and hastily called for a cup-full of water, which the young slave, who had received no hurt, brought her.  She took it, and after pronouncing some words over it, threw it upon me, saying, “If thou art become an ape by enchantment, change thy shape, and take that of a man which thou hadst before.”  These words were hardly uttered, when I again became a man, in every respect as I was before my transformation, excepting the loss of my eye.

I was prepared to return the princess my thanks, but she prevented me by addressing herself to her father:  “Sir, I have gained the victory over the genie, as your majesty may see; but it is a victory that costs me dear; I have but a few minutes to live, and you will not have the satisfaction to make the match you intended; the fire has pierced me during the terrible combat, and I find it is gradually consuming me.  This would not have happened, had I perceived the last of the pomegranate seeds, and swallowed it, as I did the others when I was changed into a cock:  the genie had fled thither as to his last intrenchment, and upon that the success of the combat depended, which would have been successful, and without danger to me.  This oversight obliged me to have recourse to fire, and to fight with those mighty arms as I did, between heaven and earth, in your presence; for, in spite of all his redoubtable art and experience, I made the genie know that I understood more than he; I have conquered and reduced him to ashes, but I cannot escape death, which is approaching.”

The sultan suffered the princess, the Lady of Beauty, to go on with the recital of her combat, and when she had done, addressed her in a tone that sufficiently testified his grief; “My daughter,” said he, “you see in what condition your father is; alas!  I wonder that I am yet alive!  Your governor, the eunuch, is dead, and the prince whom you have delivered from his enchantment has lost one of his eyes.”  He could say no more, for his tears, sighs, and sobs, deprived him of the power of utterance.

Suddenly the princess exclaimed, “I burn!  I burn!” She found that the fire had at last seized upon her vital parts, which made her still cry “I burn!” until death had put an end to her intolerable pains.  The effect of that fire was so extraordinary, that in a few moments she was wholly reduced to ashes, as the genie had been.

I cannot tell you, madam, how much I was grieved at so dismal a spectacle; I had rather all my life have continued an ape or a dog, than to have seen my benefactress thus miserably perish.  The sultan being afflicted all that can be imagined, cried piteously, and beat himself on his head and breast, until being quite overcome with grief, he fainted away, which made me fear for his life.  In the mean time, the eunuchs and officers came running at the sultan’s lamentations, and with much difficulty brought him to himself.  It was not necessary that the prince or myself should relate the circumstances of the adventure, to convince them of the affliction it had occasioned us.  The two heaps of ashes, to which the princess and the genie had been reduced, were a sufficient demonstration.  The sultan was hardly able to stand, but was under the necessity of being supported to his apartment.

When the knowledge of this tragical event had spread through the palace and the city, all the people bewailed the misfortune of the princess, the Lady of Beauty, and commiserated the sultan’s affliction.  Public mourning was observed for seven days, and many ceremonies were performed.  The ashes of the genie were thrown into the air, but those of the princess were collected into a precious urn, to be preserved, and the urn was deposited in a superb mausoleum, constructed for that purpose on the spot where the princess had been consumed.

The grief of the sultan for the loss of his daughter confined him to his chamber for a whole month.  Before he had fully recovered his strength he sent for me:  “Prince,” said he, “attend to the commands I now give you; your life must answer if you do not carry them into execution.”  I assured him of exalt obedience; upon which he went on thus:  “I have constantly lived in perfect felicity, but by your arrival all the happiness I possessed has vanished; my daughter is dead, her governor is no more, and it is only through a miracle that I am myself yet alive You are the cause of all these misfortunes, under which it is impossible that I should be comforted; depart hence therefore in peace, without farther delay, for I must myself perish if you remain any longer.  I am persuaded that your presence brings misfortune with it.  Depart, and take care never to appear again in my dominions.  No consideration whatever shall hinder me from making you repent your temerity should you violate my injunction.”  I was going to speak, but he prevented me by words full of anger; and I was obliged to quit the palace, rejected, banished, an outcast from the world.  Before I left the city I went into a bagnio, here I caused my beard and eyebrows to be shaved, and put on a calender’s habit.  I began my journey, not so much deploring my own miseries, as the death of the two fair princesses, of which I have been the occasion.  I passed through many countries without making myself known; at last I resolved to come to Bagdad, in hopes of getting myself introduced to the commander of the faithful, to move his compassion by relating to him my unfortunate adventures.  I arrived this evening, and the first man I met was this calender, our brother, who spoke before me.  You know the remaining part, madam, and the cause of my having the honour to be here.

When the second calender had concluded his story, Zobeide, to whom he had addressed his speech, said, “It is well, you are at liberty.”  But instead of departing, he also petitioned the lady to shew him the same favour vouchsafed to the first calender, and went and sat down by him.

The History of the Third Calender.

My story, most honourable lady, very much differs from what you have already heard.  The two princes who have spoken before me have each lost an eye by the pure effects of their destiny, but mine I lost through my own fault, and by hastening to seek my own misfortune, as you shall hear by the sequel of the story.

My name is Agib, and I am the son of a sultan who was called Cassib.  After his death I took possession of his dominions, and continued in the city where he had resided.  It is situated on the sea-coast, has one of the finest and safest harbours in the world, an arsenal capable of fitting out for sea one hundred and fifty men of war, besides merchantmen and light vessels.  My kingdom is composed of several fine provinces upon the main land, besides a number of valuable islands, which lie almost in sight of my capital.

My first object was to visit the provinces:  I afterwards caused my whole fleet to be fitted out, and went to my islands to gain the hearts of my subjects by my presence, and to confirm them in their loyalty.  These voyages gave me some taste for navigation, in which I took so much pleasure, that I resolved to make some discoveries beyond my own territories; to which end I caused ten ships to be fitted out, embarked, and set sail.

Our voyage was very pleasant for forty days successively, but on the forty-first night the wind became contrary, and withal so boisterous that we were near being lost:  about break of day the storm abated, the clouds dispersed, and the weather became fair.  We reached an island, where we remained two days to take in fresh provisions; and then put off again to sea.  After ten days’ sail we were in hopes of seeing land, for the tempests we had experienced had so much abated my curiosity, that I gave orders to steer back to my own coast; but I perceived at the same time that my pilot knew not where we were.  Upon the tenth day, a seaman being sent to look out for land from the mast head, gave notice that on starboard and larboard he could see nothing but sky and sea, but that right a-head he perceived a great blackness.

The pilot changed colour at this account, and throwing his turban on the deck with one hand, and beating his breast with the other, cried, “Oh, Sir, we are all lost; not one of us can escape; and with all my skill it is not in my power to effect our deliverance.”  Having spoken thus, he lamented like a man who foresaw unavoidable ruin; his despondence threw the whole ship’s crew into consternation.  I asked him what reason he had thus to despair?  He exclaimed, “The tempest has brought us so far out of our course, that to-morrow about noon we shall be near the black mountain, or mine of adamant, which at this very minute draws all your fleet towards it, by virtue of the iron in your ships; and when we approach within a certain distance, the attraction of the adamant will have such force, that all the nails will be drawn out of the sides and bottoms of the ships, and fasten to the mountain, so that your vessels will fall to pieces and sink.

“This mountain,” continued the pilot, “is inaccessible.  On the summit there is a dome of fine brass, supported by pillars of the same metal, and on the top of that dome stands a horse, likewise of brass, with a rider on his back, who has a plate or lead fixed to his breast, upon which some talismanic characters are engraver.  Sir, the tradition is, that this statue is the chief cause why so many ships and men have been lost and sunk in this place, and that it will ever continue to be fatal to all those who have the misfortune to approach, until it shall be thrown down.”

The pilot having finished his discourse, began to weep afresh, and all the rest of the ship’s company did the same.  I had no other thought but that my days were there to terminate.  In the mean time every one began to provide for his own safety, and to that end took all imaginable precaution; and being uncertain of the event, they all made one another their heirs, by virtue of a will, for the benefit of those that should happen to be saved.

The next morning we distinctly perceived the black mountain.  About noon we were so near, that we found what the pilot had foretold to be true; for all the nails and iron in the ships flew towards the mountain, where they fixed, by the violence of the attraction, with a horrible noise; the ships split asunder, and their cargoes sunk into the sea.  All my people were drowned, but God had mercy on me, and permitted me to save myself by means of a plank, which the wind drove ashore just at the foot of the mountain.  I did not receive the least hurt, and my good fortune brought me to a landing place, where there were steps that led up to the summit of the mountain.

At the sight of these steps, for there was not a space of ground either on the right or left whereon a man could set his foot, I gave thanks to God; and recommended myself to his holy protection, as I began to ascend the steps, which were so narrow, that had the wind raged it would have thrown me into the sea.  But, at last, I reached the top, without accident.  I went into the dome, and kneeling on the ground, gave God thanks for his mercies.

I passed the night under the dome.  In my sleep an old grave man appeared to me, and said, “Hearken, Agib; as soon as thou art awake dig up the ground under thy feet:  thou wilt find a bow of brass, and three arrows of lead, that are made under certain constellations, to deliver mankind from the many calamities that threaten them.  Shoot the three arrows at the statue, and the rider will fall into the sea, but the horse will fall by thy side; thou must bury it in the place where thou findest the bow and arrows:  this being done, the sea will swell and rise to the foot of the dome.  When it has come so high, thou wilt perceive a boat with one man holding an oar in each hand; this man is also of metal, but different from that thou hast thrown down; step on board, but without mentioning the name of God, and let him conduct thee.  He will in ten days’ time bring thee into another sea, where thou shalt find an opportunity to return to thy country, provided, as I have told thee, thou dost not mention the name of God during the whole voyage.”

This was the substance of the old man’s discourse.  When I awoke I felt much comforted by the vision, and did not fail to observe everything that he had commanded me.  I took the bow and arrows out of the ground, shot at the horseman, and with the third arrow I overthrew him; he fell into the sea, and the horse fell by my side; I buried it in the place whence I took the bow and arrows.  In the mean time, the sea swelled and rose up by degrees.  When it came as high as the foot of the dome upon the top of the mountain, I saw, afar off, a boat rowing towards me, and I returned God thanks that everything succeeded according to my dream.

At last the boat made land, and I perceived the man was made of metal, as I had dreamt.  I stept aboard, and took great heed not to pronounce the name of God, neither spoke I one word.  I sat down, and the man of metal began to row off from the mountain.  He rowed without ceasing till the ninth day, when I saw some islands, which gave me hopes that I should escape all the danger that I feared.  The excess of my joy made me forget what I was forbidden:  “Blessed be God,” said I; “God be praised.”

I had no sooner spoken these words, than the boat sunk with the man of metal, leaving me upon the surface.  I swam the remaining part of the day towards that land which appeared nearest.  A very dark night succeeded, and not knowing where I was, I swam at random.  My strength at last began to fail, and I despaired of being able to save myself, but the wind began to blow hard, and a wave vast as a mountain threw me on a flat, where it left me, and retreated.  I made haste ashore, fearing another wave might wash me back.  The first thing I did was to strip, wring the water out of my clothes, and lay them on the dry sand, which was still warm from the heat of the day.

Next morning the sun dried my clothes; I put them on, and went forward to discover what sort of country I was in.  I had not walked far before I found I was upon a desert, though a very pleasant, island, as it displayed several sorts of trees and wild shrubs bearing fruit; but I perceived it was far from the continent, which much diminished the joy I felt at having escaped the danger of the seas.  Nevertheless, I recommended myself to God and prayed him to dispose of me according to his will.  Immediately after, I saw a vessel coming from the main land, before the wind, directly towards the island.  I doubted not but they were coming to anchor there; and being uncertain what sort of people they might be, whether friends or foes, I thought it not safe to be seen.  I got up into a very thick tree, from whence I might safely view them.  The vessel came into a little creek, where ten slaves landed, carrying a spade and other instruments for digging up the ground.  They went towards the middle of the island, where I saw them stop, and dig for a considerable time, after which I thought I perceived them lift up a trap door.  They returned again to the vessel, and unloaded several sorts of provisions and furniture, which they carried to the place where they had been digging:  they then descended, which made me suppose it led to a subterraneous dwelling.

I saw them once more go to the ship, and return soon after with an old man, who led in his hand a handsome lad of about fourteen or fifteen years of age.  They all descended when the trap door had been opened.  After they had again come up, they let down the trap door, covered it over with earth, and returned to the creek where the ship lay, but I saw not the young man in their company.  This made me believe that he had staid behind in the subterraneous place, a circumstance which exceedingly surprised me.

The old man and the slaves went on board, and getting the vessel under weigh, steered their course towards the main land.  When I perceived they had proceeded to such a distance that I could not be seen by them, I came down from the tree, and went directly to the place where I had seen the ground broken.  I removed the earth by degrees, till I came to a stone that was two or three feet square.  I lifted it up, and found that it covered the head of a flight of stairs, which were also of stone.  I descended, and at the bottom found myself in a large room, furnished with a carpet, a couch covered with tapestry, and cushions of rich stuff, upon which the young man sat, with a fan in his hand.  These things, together with fruits and flower-pot standing about him, I saw by the light of two wax tapers.  The young man, when he perceived me was considerably alarmed; but to quiet his apprehensions, I said to him as I entered, “Whoever you are, Sir, do not fear; a sultan, and the son of a sultan, as I am, is not capable of doing you any injury:  on the contrary, it is probable that your good destiny may have brought me hither to deliver you out of this tomb, where it seems you have been buried alive, for reasons to me unknown.  But what surprises me (for you must know that I have been witness to all that hath passed since your coming into this island), is, that you suffered yourself to be entombed in this place without any resistance.”

The young man felt assured at these words, and with a smiling countenance requested me to take a seat by him.  When I had complied, he said “Prince, I am to acquaint you with what will surprise you by its singularity.

“My father is a merchant jeweller, who, by his industry and professional skill, has acquired considerable property.  He has many slaves, and also agents, whom he employs as supercargoes in his own ships, to maintain his correspondence at the several courts, which he furnishes with precious stones.

“He had been long married without having issue, when it was intimated to him in a dream that he should have a son, though his life would be but short; at which he was much concerned when he awoke.  Some days after, my mother acquainted him that she was with child, and what she supposed to be the time of her conception agreed exactly with the day of his dream.  At the end of nine months she was brought to bed of me; which occasioned great joy in the family.

“My father, who had observed the very moment of my birth, consulted astrologers about my nativity; and was answered, ’Your son shall live happily till the age of fifteen, when his life will be exposed to a danger which he will hardly be able to escape.  But if his good destiny preserve him beyond that time, he will live to a great age.  It will be’ (said they) ’when the statue of brass, that stands upon the summit of the mountain of adamant, shall be thrown into the sea by prince Agib, son of king Cassib; and, as the stars prognosticate, your son will be killed fifty days afterwards by that prince.’

“My father took all imaginable care of my education until this year, which is the fifteenth of my age.  He had notice given him yesterday, that the statue of brass had been thrown into the sea about ten days ago.  This news alarmed him much.

“Upon the prediction the astrologers, he sought by all means possible to falsify my horoscope, and to preserve my life.  He took the precaution to form this subterranean habitation to hide me in, till the expiration of the fifty days after the throwing down of the statue; and therefore, as it is ten days since this happened, he came hastily hither to conceal me, and promised at the end of forty days to return and fetch me away.  For my own part I am sanguine in my hopes, and cannot believe that prince Agib will seek for me in a place under ground, in the midst of a desert island.”

While the jeweller’s son was relating this story, I laughed at the astrologers who had foretold that I should take away his life; for I thought myself so far from being likely to verify their prediction, that he had scarcely done speaking, when I told him with great joy, “Dear Sir, trust in the goodness of God, and fear nothing; consider it as a debt you had to pay; but that you are acquitted of it from this hour.  I rejoice that after my shipwreck I came so fortunately hither to defend you against all who would attempt your life.  I will not leave you till the forty days have expired, of which the foolish astrologers have made you apprehensive; and in the mean while I will do you all the service in my power:  after which, with leave of your father and yourself, I shall have the benefit of getting to the main land in your vessel; and when I am returned into my kingdom, I will remember the obligations I owe you, and endeavour to demonstrate my gratitude by suitable acknowledgments.”

This discourse encouraged the jeweller’s son, and inspired him with confidence.  I took care not to inform him I was the very Agib whom he dreaded, lest I should alarm his fears, and used every precaution not to give him any cause to suspect who I was.  We passed the time in various conversation till night came on.  I found the young man of ready wit, and partook with him of his provisions, of which he had enough to have lasted beyond the forty days, though he had had more guests than myself.  After supper we conversed for some time; and at last retired to bed.

The next morning, when he arose, I held the basin of water to him; I also provided dinner, and at the proper time placed it on the table:  after we had dined I invented a play for our amusement, not only for that day, but for those that followed.  I prepared supper after the same manner as I had done the dinner; and having supped, we retired to bed as before.  We had sufficient time to contrast mutual friendship and esteem for each other.  I found he loved me; and I on my part regarded him with so much affection, that I often said to myself, “Those astrologers who predicted to his father that his son should die by my hand were impostors; for it is not possible that I could commit so base a crime.”  In short, madam, we spent thirty-nine days in the pleasantest manner possible in this subterraneous abode.

The fortieth day appeared:  and in the morning, when the young man awoke, he said to me with a transport of joy that he could not restrain, “Prince, this is the fortieth day, and I am not dead, thanks to God and your good company.  My father will not fail to make you, very shortly, every acknowledgment of his gratitude for your attentions, and will furnish you with every necessary accommodation for your return to your kingdom:  but,” continued he, “while we are waiting his arrival, I beg you will provide me some warm water in that portable bath, that I may wash my body and change my dress, to receive my father with the more respect.”

I set the water on the fire, and when it was hot poured it into the moveable bath; the youth went in, and I both washed and rubbed him.  At last he came out, and laid himself down in his bed that I had prepared.  After he had slept a while, he awoke, and said, “Dear prince, pray do me the favour to fetch me a melon and some sugar, that I may eat some to refresh me.”

Out of several melons that remained I took the best, and laid it on a plate; and as I could not find a knife to cut it with, I asked the young man if he knew where there was one.  “There is one,” said he, “upon this cornice over my head:”  I accordingly saw it there, and made so much haste to reach it, that, while I had it in my hand, my foot being entangled in the carpet, I fell most unhappily upon the young man, and the knife pierced his heart.

At this spectacle I cried out with agony.  I beat my head, my face, and breast; I tore my clothes; I threw myself on the ground with unspeakable sorrow and grief!  “Alas!” I exclaimed, “there were only some hours wanting to have put him out of that danger from which he sought sanctuary here; and when I thought the danger past, then I became his murderer, and verified the prediction.  But, O Lord!” said I, lifting up my face and my hands to heaven, “I intreat thy pardon, and if I be guilty of his death, let me not live any longer.”

After this misfortune I would have embraced death without any reluctance, had it presented itself to me.  But what we wish, whether it be good or evil, will not always happen according to our desire.  Nevertheless, considering that all my tears and sorrows would not restore the young man to life, and, the forty days being expired, I might be surprised by his father, I quitted the subterranean dwelling, laid down the great stone upon the entrance, and covered it with earth.

I had scarcely done, when, casting my eyes upon the sea towards the main land, I perceived the vessel coming to fetch away the young man.  I began then to consider what I had best do.  I said to myself, “If I am seen by the old man, he will certainly seize me, and perhaps cause me to be massacred by his slaves, when he has discovered that his son is killed:  all that I can allege to justify myself will not convince him of my innocence.  It is better then to withdraw while it is in my power, than to expose myself to his resentment.”

There happened to be near a large tree thick with leaves, which I ascended in hopes of concealment, and was no sooner fixed in a place where I could not be perceived, than I saw the vessel come to the creek where she lay the first time.

The old man with his slaves landed immediately, and advanced towards the subterranean dwelling, with a countenance that shewed some hope; but when they saw the earth had been newly removed, they changed colour, particularly the old man.  They lifted up the stone, and went down; they called the young man by his name, but he not answering, their fears increased.  They proceeded to seek him; and at length found him lying upon the bed with the knife in his heart, for I had not power to take it out.  At this sight they cried out lamentably, which increased my sorrow:  the old man fell down in a swoon.  The slaves, to give him air, brought him up in their arms, and laid him at the foot of the tree where I was concealed; but notwithstanding all the pains they took to recover him, the unfortunate father continued a long while insensible, and made them more than once despair of his life; but at last he came to himself.  The slaves then brought up his son’s corpse, dressed in his best apparel, and when they had made a grave they buried it.  The old man, supported by two slaves, and his face covered with tears, threw the first earth upon the body, after which the slaves filled up the grave.

This being done, all the furniture was brought up, and, with the remaining provisions, put on board the vessel.  The old man, overcome with sorrow, and not being able to stand, was laid upon a litter, and carried to the ship, which stood out to sea, and in a short time was out of sight.

After the old man and his slaves were gone, I was left alone upon the island.  I lay that night in the subterranean dwelling, which they had shut up, and when the day came, I walked round the island, and stopped in such places as I thought most proper for repose.

I led this wearisome life for a whole month.  At the expiration of this time I perceived that the sea had receded; that the island had increased in dimensions; the main land too seemed to be drawing nearer.  In fact, the water sunk so low, that there remained between me and the continent but a small stream, which I crossed, and the water did not reach above the middle of my leg.  I walked so long a way upon the slime and sand that I was very weary:  at last I got upon more firm ground, and when I had proceeded some distance from the sea, I saw a good way before me something that resembled a great fire, which afforded me some comfort; for I said to myself, I shall find here some persons, it not being possible that this fire should kindle of itself.  As I drew nearer, however, I found my error, and discovered that what I had taken for a fire was a castle of red copper, which the beams of the sun made to appear at a distance like flames.

I stopped in the neighbourhood of the castle, and sat down to admire its noble structure, and to rest myself.  Before I had taken such a view of this magnificent building as it deserved, I saw ten handsome young men coming along, as if they had been taking a walk; but what surprised me was, that they were all blind of the right eye.  They were accompanied by an old man, who was very tall, and of a venerable aspect.

I could not suppress my astonishment at the sight of so many half blind men in company, and every one deprived of the same eye.  As I was conjecturing by what adventure these men could come together, they approached, and seemed glad to see me.  After the first salutations, they inquired what had brought me thither.  I told them my story would be somewhat tedious, but if they would take the trouble to sit down, I would satisfy their curiosity.  They did so, and I related to them all that had happened to me since I had left my kingdom, which filled them with astonishment.

After I had concluded my account, the young gentlemen prayed me to accompany them into the castle.  I accepted their offer, and we passed through a great many halls, ante-chambers, bed-chambers, and closets, very well furnished, and came at last into a spacious hall, where there were ten small blue sofas set round, separate from one another, on which they sat by day and slept at night.  In the middle of this circle stood an eleventh sofa, not so high as the rest, but of the same colour, upon which the old man before-mentioned sat down, and the young gentlemen occupied the other ten.  But as each sofa could only contain one man, one of the young men said to me, “Comrade, sit down upon that carpet in the middle of the room, and do not inquire into anything that concerns us, nor the reason why we are all blind of the right eye; be content with what you see, and let not your curiosity extend any farther.”

The old man having sat a short time, arose, and went out; but he returned in a minute or two, brought in supper, distributed to each man separately his proportion, and likewise brought me mine, which I ate apart, as the rest did; and when supper was almost ended, he presented to each of us a cup of wine.

They thought my story so extraordinary, that they made me repeat it after supper, and it furnished conversation for a good part of the night.  One of the gentlemen observing that it was late, said to the old man, “You do not bring us that with which we may acquit ourselves of our duty.”  At these words the old man arose, and went into a closet, and brought out thence upon his head ten basins, one after another, all covered with blue stuff; he placed one before every gentleman, together with a light.

They uncovered their basins, which contained ashes, coal-dust, and lamp-black; they mixed all together, and rubbed and bedaubed their faces with it in such a manner as to make themselves look very frightful.  After having thus blackened themselves, they wept and lamented, beating their heads and breasts, and crying continually, “This is the fruit of our idleness and debauches.”

They continued this strange employment nearly the whole of the night, and when they left off, the old man brought them water, with which they washed their faces and hands; they changed all their clothes, which were spoiled, and put on others; so that they exhibited no appearance of what they had been doing.

You may judge how uneasy I felt all this time.  I wished a thousand times to break the silence which had been imposed upon me, and ask questions; nor was it possible for me to sleep that night.

The next day, soon after we had arisen, we went out to walk, and then I said to them, “Gentlemen, I declare to you, that I must renounce the law which you prescribed to me last night, for I cannot observe it.  You are men of sense, you have convinced me that you do not want understanding; yet, I have seen you do such actions as none but madmen could be capable of.  Whatever misfortune befalls me, I cannot forbear asking, why you bedaubed your faces with black?  How it has happened that each of you has but one eye?  Some singular circumstance must certainly be the cause; therefore I conjure you to satisfy my curiosity.”  To these pressing instances they answered only, that it was no business of mine to make such inquiries, and that I should do well to hold my peace.

We passed that day in conversation upon indifferent subjects; and when night was come and every man had supped, the old man brought in the blue basins, and the young gentlemen as before bedaubed their faces, wept and beat themselves, crying, “This is the fruit of our idleness and debauches,” and continued the same actions the following night.  At last, not being able to resist my curiosity, I earnestly prayed them to satisfy me, or to shew me how to return to my own kingdom; for it was impossible for me to keep them company any longer, and to see every night such an odd exhibition, without being permitted to know the reason.

One of the gentlemen answered on behalf of the rest, “Do not wonder at our conduit in regard to yourself, and that hitherto we have not granted your request:  it is out of kindness, to save you the pain of being reduced to the same condition with ourselves.  If you have a mind to try our unfortunate destiny, you need but speak, and we will give you the satisfaction you desire.”  I told them I was resolved on it, let what would be the consequence.  “Once more,” said the same gentleman, “we advise you to restrain your curiosity:  it will cost you the loss of your right eye.”  “No matter,” I replied; “be assured that if such a misfortune befall me, I will not impute it to you, but to myself.”

He farther represented to me, that when I had lost an eye I must not hope to remain with them, if I were so disposed, because their number was complete, and no addition could be made to it.  I told them, that it would be a great satisfaction to me never to part from such agreeable gentlemen, but if there were a necessity for it, I was ready to submit; and let it cost me what it would, I begged them to grant my request.

The ten gentlemen perceiving that I was so fixed in my resolution, took a sheep, killed it, and after they had taken off the skin, presented me with a knife, telling me it would be useful to me on an occasion which they would soon explain.  “We must sew you in this skin,” said they, “and then leave you; upon which a bird of a monstrous size, called a roc, will appear in the air, and taking you for a sheep, will pounce upon you, and soar with you to the sky:  but let not that alarm you; he will descend with you again, and lay you on the top of a mountain.  When you find yourself on the ground, cut the skin with your knife, and throw it off.  As soon as the roc sees you, he will fly away for fear, and leave you at liberty.  Do not stay, but walk on till you come to a spacious castle, covered with plates of gold, large emeralds, and other precious stones:  go up to the gate, which always stands open, and walk in.  We have each of us been in that castle; but will tell you nothing of what we saw, or what befell us there; you will learn by your own experience.  All that we can inform you is, that it has cost each of us our right eye, and the penance which you have been witness to, is what we are obliged to observe in consequence of having been there.  The history of each of us is so full of extraordinary adventures, that a large volume would not contain them.  But we cannot explain ourselves farther.”

When the gentleman had thus spoken, I wrapt myself in the sheep’s skin, held fast the knife which was given me; and after the young gentlemen had been at the trouble to sew the skin about me, they retired into the hall, and left me alone.  The roc they spoke of soon arrived; he pounced upon me, took me in his talons like a sheep, and carried me up the summit of the mountain.

When I found myself on the ground, I cut the skin with the knife, and throwing it off, the roc at the sight of me flew sway.  This roc is a white bird, of a monstrous size; his strength is such, that he can lift up elephants from the plains, and carry them to the tops of mountains, where he feeds upon them.

Being impatient to reach the castle, I lost no time; but made so much haste, that I got thither in half a day’s journey, and I must say that I found it surpassed the description they had given me of its magnificence.

The gate being open, I entered a square court, so large that there were round it ninety-nine gates of wood of sanders and aloes, and one of gold, without reckoning those of several superb staircases, that led to apartments above, besides many more which I could not see.  The hundred doors I spoke of opened into gardens or store-houses full of riches, or into apartments which contained many things wonderful to be seen.

I saw a door standing open just before me, through which I entered into a large hall.  Here I found forty young ladies of such perfect beauty as imagination could not surpass:  they were all most sumptuously appareled.  As soon as they saw me they arose, and without waiting my salutations, said to me, with demonstrations of joy, “Noble Sir, you are welcome.”  And one thus addressed me in the name of the rest, “We have long been in expectation of such a gentleman as you; your mien assures us, that you are master of all the good qualities we can desire; and we hope you will not find our company disagreeable or unworthy of yours.”

They obliged me, notwithstanding all the opposition I could make, to sit down on a seat that was higher than their own; and when I expressed my uneasiness, “That is your place,” said they, “you are at present our lord, master, and judge, and we are your slaves, ready to obey your commands.”

Nothing, madam, so much astonished me, as the solicitude and eagerness of those fair ladies to do me all possible service.  One brought hot water to wash my feet, a second poured sweet scented water on my hands; others brought me all kinds of necessaries, and change of apparel; others again brought in a magnificent collation; and the rest came with glasses in their hands to fill me delicious wines, all in good order, and in the most charming manner possible.  I ate and drank; after which the ladies placed themselves about me, and desired an account of my travels.  I gave them a full relation of my adventures, which lasted till night came on.

When I had finished my narrative to the forty ladies, some of them who sat nearest me staid to keep me company, whilst the rest, seeing it was dark, rose to fetch tapers.  They brought a prodigious number, which by the wonderful light they emitted exhibited the resemblance of day, and they disposed them with so much taste as to produce the most beautiful effect possible.

Other ladies covered a table with dry fruits, sweetmeats, and everything proper to relish the liquor; a side-board was set out with several sorts of wine and other liquors.  Some of the ladies brought in musical instruments, and when everything was ready, they invited me to sit down to supper.  The ladies sat down with me, and we continued a long while at our repast.  They that were to play upon the instruments and sing arose, and formed a most charming concert.  The others began a kind of ball, and danced two and two, couple after couple, with admirable grace.

It was past midnight ere these amusements ended.  At length one of the ladies said to me, “You are doubtless wearied by the journey you have taken to-day; it is time for you to retire to rest; your lodging is prepared:  but before you depart choose which of us you like best to be your bedfellow.”  I answered, “That I knew not how to make my own choice, as they were all equally beautiful, witty, and worthy of my respects and service, and that I would not be guilty of so much incivility as to prefer one before another.”

The lady who had spoken to me before answered, “We are very well satisfied of your civility, and find it is your fear to create jealousy among us that occasions your diffidence; but let not this hinder you.  We assure you, that the good fortune of her whom you choose shall cause no feeling of the kind; for we are agreed among ourselves, that every one of us shall in her turn have the same honour; and when forty days are past, to begin again; therefore make your selection, and lose no time to take the repose you need.”  I was obliged to yield to their entreaties, and offered my hand to the lady who spoke, and who, in return, gave me hers.  We were conducted to a sumptuous apartment, where they left us; and then every one retired to her own chamber.

I was scarcely dressed next morning, when the other thirty-nine ladies came into my chamber, all in different dresses from those they had worn the day before:  they bade me good-morrow, and inquired after my health.  After which they conveyed me to a bath, where they washed me themselves, and whether I would or no, served me with everything I needed; and when I came out of the bath, they made me put on another suit much richer than the former.

We passed the whole day almost constantly at table; and when it was bed-time, they prayed me again to make choice of one of them for my companion In short, madam, not to weary you with repetitions, I must tell you that I continued a whole year among those forty ladies, and received them into my bed one after another:  and during all the time of this voluptuous life, we met not with the least kind of trouble.  When the year was expired, I was greatly surprised that these forty ladies, instead of appearing with their usual cheerfulness to ask me how I did, entered my chamber one morning all in tears.  They embraced me with great tenderness one after another, saying, “Adieu, dear prince, adieu! for we must leave you.”  Their tears affected.  I prayed them to tell me the reason of their grief, and of the separation they spoke of.  “Fair ladies, let me know,” said I, “if it be in my power to comfort you, or if my assistance can be any way useful to you.”  Instead of returning a direct answer, “Would,” said they, “we had never seen or known you!  Several gentlemen have honoured us with their company before you; but never one of them had that comeliness, that sweetness, that pleasantness of humour, and that merit which you possess; we know not how to live without you.”  After they had spoken these words, they began to weep bitterly.  “My dear ladies,” said I, “have the kindness not to keep me any longer in suspense:  tell me the cause of your sorrow.”  “Alas!” said they, “what but the necessity of parting from you could thus afflict us?  Perhaps we shall never see you more; but if it be your wish we should, and if you possess sufficient self-command for the purpose, it is not impossible but that we may again enjoy the pleasure of your company.”  “Ladies,” I replied, “I understand not what you mean; pray explain yourselves more clearly.”

“Well,” said one of them, “to satisfy you, we must acquaint you that we are all princesses, daughters of kings.  We live here together in the manner you have seen; but at the end of every year we are obliged to be absent forty days upon indispensable duties, which we are not permitted to reveal:  and afterwards we return again to this castle.  Yesterday was the last of the year; to day we must leave you, and this circumstance is the cause of our grief.  Before we depart we will leave you the keys of everything, especially those of the hundred doors, where you will find enough to satisfy your curiosity, and to relieve your solitude during our absence.  But for your benefit, and our own personal interests, we recommend you to forbear opening the golden door; for if you do we shall never see you again; and the apprehension of this augments our grief.  We hope, nevertheless, that you will attend to our advice; your own peace, and the happiness of your life, depends upon your compliance; therefore take heed.  If you suffer yourself to be swayed by a foolish curiosity, you will do yourself a considerable injury.  We conjure you to avoid the indiscretion, and to give us the satisfaction finding you here again at the end of forty days.  We would willingly take the key of the golden door with us; but that it would be an affront to a prince like you to question your discretion and firmness.”

This speech of the fair princesses grieved me extremely.  I omitted not to declare how much their absence would afflict me.  I thanked then for their good advice, assuring them that I would follow it, and expressed my willingness to perform what was much more difficult, to secure the happiness of passing the rest of my days with ladies of such beauty and accomplishments.  We separated with much tenderness, and after I had embraced them all, they departed, and I remained alone in the castle.

The agreeableness of their company, their hospitality, their musical entertainments, and other amusements, had so much absorbed my attention during the whole year, that I neither had time nor desire to see the wonders contained in this enchanted palace.  I did not even notice a thousand curious objects that every day offered themselves to my view, so much was I charmed by the beauty of those ladies, and the pleasure they seemed to take in promoting my gratification.  Their departure sensibly afflicted me; and though their absence was to be only forty days, it seemed to me an age to live without them.

I determined not to forget the important advice they had given me, not to open the golden door; but as I was permitted to satisfy my curiosity in everything else, I took the first of the keys of the other doors, which were hung in regular order.

I opened the first door, and entered an orchard, which I believe the universe could not equal.  I could not imagine any thing to surpass it, except that which our religion promises us after death.  The symmetry, the neatness, the admirable order of the trees, the abundance and diversity of unknown fruits, their freshness and beauty, delighted my senses.

Nor must I omit to inform you, that this delicious orchard was watered in a very particular manner.  There were channels so artificially and proportionately dug, that they carried water in considerable quantities to the roots of such trees as required much moisture.  Others conveyed it in smaller quantities to those whose fruits were already formed:  some carried still less to those whose fruits were swelling, and others carried only so much as was just requisite to water those which had their fruits come to perfection, and only wanted to be ripened.  They far exceeded in size the ordinary fruits of our gardens.  Lastly, those channels that watered the trees whose fruit was ripe had no more moisture than just what would preserve them from withering.

I should never have tired in examining and admiring so delightful a place; nor have left it, had I not conceived a still higher idea of the other things which I had not seen.  I went out at last with my mind filled with the wonders I had viewed:  I shut the door, and opened the next.

Instead of an orchard, I found here a flower garden, which was no less extraordinary in its kind.  It contained a spacious plot, not watered so profusely as the former, but with greater niceness, furnishing no more water than just what each flower required.  The roses, jessamines, violets, daffodils, hyacinths, anemonies, tulips, pinks, lilies, and an infinite number of flowers, which do not grow in other places but at certain times, were there flourishing all at once, and nothing could be more delicious than the fragrant smell which they emitted.

I opened the third door, and found a large aviary, paved with marble of several fine and uncommon colours.  The trellis work was made of sandal wood and wood of aloes.  It contained a vast number of nightingales, gold-finches, canary birds, larks, and other rare singing-birds, which I had never heard of; and the vessels that held their seed and water were of the most precious jasper or agate.

Besides, this aviary was so exceedingly neat, that, considering its extent, I judged there must be not less than a hundred persons to keep it clean; but all this while not one appeared, either here or in the gardens I had before examined; and yet I could not perceive a weed, or any thing superfluous or offensive to sight.  The sun went down, and I retired, charmed with the chirping notes of the multitude of birds, who then began to perch upon such places as suited them for repose during the night.  I went to my chamber, resolving on the following days to open all the rest of the doors, excepting that of gold.

The next day I opened the fourth door.  If what I had seen before was capable of exciting my surprise, what I now beheld transported me into perfect ecstacy.  I entered a large court surrounded with buildings of an admirable structure, the description of which I will omit, to avoid prolixity.

This building had forty doors, all open, and through each of them was an entrance into a treasury:  several of these treasuries contained as much wealth as the largest kingdoms.  The first was stored with heaps of pearls:  and, what is almost incredible, the number of those stones which are most precious, and as large as pigeons’ eggs, exceeded the number of those of the ordinary size.  In the second treasury, there were diamonds, carbuncles, and rubies; in the third, emeralds; in the fourth, ingots of gold; in the fifth, money; in the sixth, ingots of silver; and in the two following, money.  The rest contained amethysts, chrysolites, topazes, opals, turquoises, and hyacinths, with all the other stones known to us, without mentioning agate, jasper, cornelian, and coral, of which there was a store house filled, not only with branches, but whole trees.

Filled with astonishment and admiration at the view of all these riches, I exclaimed, “If all the treasures of the kings of the universe were gathered together in one place, they could not equal the value of these.  How fortunate am I to possess all this wealth with so many admirable princesses!”

I will not tire you, madam, with a detail of all the other objects of curiosity and value which I discovered on the following day.  I shall only say, that thirty-nine days afforded me but just as much time as was necessary to open ninety-nine doors, and to admire all that presented itself to my view, so that there was only the hundredth door left, which I was forbidden to open.

The fortieth day after the departure of those charming princesses arrived, and had I but retained so much self-command as I ought to have had, I should have been this day the happiest of all mankind, whereas now I am the most unfortunate.  They were to return the next day, and the pleasure of seeing them again ought to have restrained my curiosity:  but through my weakness, which I shall ever repent, I yielded to the temptations of the evil spirit, who allowed me no rest till I had involved myself in the misfortunes I have since suffered.

I opened that fatal door!  But before I had moved my foot to enter, a smell pleasant enough, but too powerful for my senses, made me faint away.  However, I soon recovered:  but instead of taking warning from this incident to close the door, and restrain my curiosity, after waiting some time for the external air to correct the effluvia of the place, I entered, and felt myself no longer incommoded.  I found myself in a spacious vaulted apartment, the pavement of which was strewed with saffron.  It was illuminated by several large tapers which emitted the perfume of aloes and ambergris, and were placed in candlesticks of solid gold.  This light was augmented by gold and silver lamps, burning perfumed oils of various kinds.

Among the many objects that attracted my attention was a black horse, of the most perfect symmetry and beauty that ever was beheld.  I approached in order the better to observe him, and found he had on a saddle and bridle of massive gold, curiously wrought.  One part of his manger was filled with clean barley and sesame, and the other with rose-water.  I laid hold of his bridle, and led him out to view him by daylight.  I mounted, and endeavoured to make him move:  but finding he did not stir, I struck him with a switch I had taken up in his magnificent stable.  He had no sooner felt the blow, than he began to neigh in a most horrible manner, and extending his wings, which I had not before perceived, flew up with me into the air.  My thoughts were fully in keeping my seat; and considering the fear that had seized me, I sat well.  At length he directed his course towards the earth, and lighted upon the terrace of a castle, and, without giving me time to dismount, shook me out of the saddle with such force, as to throw me behind him, and with the end of his tail he struck out my eye.

Thus it was I became blind of one eye.  I then recollected the predictions of the ten young gentlemen.  The horse again took wing, and soon disappeared.  I got up much vexed at the misfortune I had brought upon myself.  I walked upon the terrace, covering my eye with one of my hands, for it pained me exceedingly, and then descended, and entered into a hall.  I soon discovered by the ten sofas in a circle, and the eleventh in the middle, lower than the rest, that I was in the castle whence I had been carried by the roc.

The ten young gentlemen were not in the hall when I entered; but came in soon after, attended by the old man.  They seemed not at all surprised to see me, nor at the loss of my eye; but said, “We are sorry that we cannot congratulate you on your return, as we could wish; but we are not the cause of your misfortune.”  “I should do you wrong,” I replied, “to lay it to your charge; I have only myself to accuse.”  “If,” said they, “it be a subject of consolation to the afflicted to know that others share their sufferings, you have in us this alleviation of your misfortune.  All that has happened to you we have also endured; we each of us tasted the same pleasures during a year; and we had still continued to enjoy them, had we not opened the golden door, when the princesses were absent.  You have been no wiser than we, and have incurred the same punishment.  We would gladly receive you into our company, to join with us in the penance to which we are bound, and the duration of which we know not.  But we have already stated to you the reasons that render this impossible:  depart, therefore, and proceed to the court of Bagdad, where you will meet with the person who is to decide your destiny.”  After they had explained to me the road I was to travel, I departed.

On the road I caused my beard and eye-brows to be shaven, and assumed a calender’s habit.  I have had a long journey, but at last I arrived this evening, and met these my brother calenders at the gate, being strangers as well as myself.  We were mutually surprised at one another, to see that we were all blind of the same eye; but we had not leisure to converse long on the subject of our misfortunes.  We have only had time enough to bring us hither, to implore those favours which you have been generously pleased to grant us.

The third calender having finished this relation of his adventures, Zobeide addressed him and his fellow calenders thus:  “Go wherever you think proper, you are at liberty.”  But one of them answered, “Madam, we beg you to pardon our curiosity, and permit us to hear the stories of those gentlemen who have not yet spoken.”  Then the lady turned to the caliph, the vizier Jaaffier, and Mesrour, and said to them, “It is now your turn to relate your adventures, therefore speak.”

The grand vizier who had all along been the spokesman, answered Zobeide:  “Madam, in order to obey you, we need only repeat what we have already said.  We are merchants of Moussol come to Bagdad to sell our merchandize, which lies in the khan where we lodge.  We dined today with several other persons of our condition, at a merchant’s house of this city; who, after he had treated us with choice dainties and excellent wines, sent for men and women dancers, and musicians.  The great noise we made brought in the watch, who arrested some of the company, and we had the good fortune to escape:  but it being already late, and the door of our khan shut up, we knew not whither to retire.  We chanced as we passed along this street to hear mirth at your house, which made us determine to knock at your gate.  This is all the account that we can give you, in obedience to your commands.”

Zobeide having heard this statement, seemed to hesitate what to say, which the calenders perceiving, prayed her to grant the same favour to the three Moussol merchants as she had done to them.  “Well then,” said she, “you shall all be equally obliged to me; I pardon you all, provided you immediately depart.”

Zobeide having given this command in a tone that signified she would be obeyed, the caliph, the vizier Mesrour, the three calenders, and the porter departed, without saying one word:  for the presence of the seven slaves with their weapons awed them into silence.  As soon as they had quitted the house, and the gate was closed after them, the caliph said to the calenders, without making himself known, “You gentlemen, who are newly come to town, which way do you design to go, since it is not yet day?” “It is this,” they replied, “that perplexes us.”  “Follow us,” resumed the caliph, “and we will convey you out of danger.”  He then whispered to the vizier, “Take them along with you, and tomorrow morning bring them to me; I will cause their history to be put in writing, for it deserves a place in the annals of my reign.”

The vizier Jaaffier took the three calenders along with him; the porter went to his quarters, and the caliph and Mesrour returned to the palace.  The caliph went to bed, but could not sleep, being perplexed by the extraordinary things he had seen and heard.  But above all, he was most concerned to know the history of Zobeide; what reason she could have to be so severe to the two black bitches, and why Amene had her bosom so scarred.  Day began to appear whilst he was thinking upon these things; he arose and went to his council chamber, and sat upon his throne.

The grand vizier entered soon after, and paid his respects as usual.  “Vizier,” said the caliph, “the affairs that we have to consider at present are not very pressing; that of the three ladies and the two black bitches is the most urgent:  my mind cannot rest till I am thoroughly satisfied, in all those matters that have so much surprised me.  Go, bring those ladies and the calenders at the same time; make haste, and remember that I impatiently expect your return.”

The vizier who knew his master’s quick and fiery temper, hastened to obey, and went to the ladies, to whom he communicated, in a civil way, the orders with which he was charged, to bring them before the caliph, without taking any notice of what had passed the night before at their house.

The ladies put on their veils, and went with the vizier As he passed his own house, he took along with him the three calenders, who in the interval had learnt that they had seen and spoken with the caliph, without knowing him.  The vizier conducted them to the palace with so much expedition, that the caliph was much pleased.  This prince, that he might observe proper decorum before the officers of his court who were then present, ordered that the ladies should be placed behind the hangings of the door which led to his own chamber, and placed the three calenders near his person, who, by their respectful behaviour, sufficiently evinced that they were not ignorant before whom they had the honour to appear.

When the ladies were thus disposed of, the caliph turned towards them, and said, “When I acquaint you that I was last night in your house, disguised in a merchant’s habit, you may probably be alarmed, lest you may have given me offence; you may perhaps believe that I have sent for you for no other purpose than to shew some marks of my resentment; but be not afraid; you may rest assured that I have forgotten all that has past, and am well satisfied with your conduct.  I wish that all the ladies of Bagdad had as much discretion as you evinced before me.  I shall always remember the moderation with which you acted, after the rudeness of which we were guilty.  I was then a merchant of Moussol, but am at present Haroon al Rusheed, the fifth caliph of the glorious house of Abbas, and hold the place of our great prophet.  I have only sent for you to know who you are, and to ask for what reason one of you, after severely whipping the two black bitches, wept with them?  And I am no less curious to know, why another of you has her bosom so full of scars.”

Though the caliph pronounced these words very distinctly, the three ladies heard him well enough, yet the vizier out of ceremony, repeated them.

Zobeide, after the caliph by his address had encouraged her, began thus:

The Story of Zobeide.

Commander of the faithful, the relation which I am about to give your majesty is singularly extraordinary.  The two black bitches and myself are sisters by the same father and mother; and I shall acquaint you by what strange accident they came to be metamorphosed.  The two ladies who live with me, and are now here, are also my sisters by the father’s side, but by another mother:  she that has the scars upon her breast is named Amene; the name of the other is Safie, and my own Zobeide.

After our father’s death, the property that he left was equally divided among us, and as soon as these two sisters received their portions, they left me to live with their mother.  My other two sisters and myself stayed with our mother, who was then alive, and who when she afterwards died left each of us a thousand sequins.  As soon as we had received our portions, the two eldest (for I am the youngest) married, and left me alone.  Some time after, my eldest sister’s husband sold all that he had, and with that money and my sister’s portion they went both into Africa, where her husband, by riotous living and debauchery’ spent all; and finding himself reduced to poverty, found a pretext for divorcing my sister, and put her away.

She returned to this city, and having suffered incredible hardships by the way, came to me in so lamentable a condition that it would have moved the hardest heart to compassion to behold her.  I received her with every possible tenderness, and inquiring into the cause of her distress, she told me with tears how inhumanly her husband had behaved towards her.  Her misfortunes affected me:  and I mingled my tears with hers.  I took her to a bath, clothed her with my own apparel, and thus addressed her:  “Sister, you are the elder, and I esteem you as my mother:  during your absence, God has blest the portion that fell to my share, and the employment I follow of breeding silk-worms.  Assure yourself there is nothing I have but is at your service, and as much at your disposal as my own.”

We lived very comfortably together for some months.  As we were one day conversing about our third sister, and wondering we received no intelligence of her, she came in as bad a condition as the eldest:  her husband had treated her after the same manner; and I received her likewise with the same affection as I had done the former.

Some time after, my two sisters, on presence that they would not be chargeable to me, told me they intended to marry again.  I observed, that if putting me to expense was the only reason, they might lay those thoughts aside, and be welcome to remain:  for what I had would be sufficient to maintain us all three, in a manner answerable to our condition.  “But,” I added, “I rather believe you wish to marry again; I shall feel much surprised if such be the case.  After the experience you have had of the little satisfaction there is in wedlock, is it possible you dare venture a second time?  You know how rare it is to meet with a husband perfectly virtuous and deserving.  Believe what I say, and let us live together as comfortably as we can.”  All my persuasion was in vain; they were resolved to marry, and soon accomplished their wishes.  But after some months were past, they returned again, and begged my pardon a thousand times for not following my advice.  “You are our youngest sister,” said they, “but abundantly more wise than we; if you will vouchsafe to receive us once more into your house, and account us your slaves, we shall never commit a similar fault again.”  My answer was, “Dear sisters, I have not altered my mind with respect to you since we last parted:  come again, and take part of what I have.”  Upon this I embraced them, and we lived together as before.

We continued thus a whole year in perfect love and harmony.  Seeing that God had increased my small stock, I projected a voyage, to embark some of it in a commercial speculation.  To this end, I went with my two sisters to Bussorah, where I bought a ship ready fitted for sea, and laded her with such merchandise as I had carried with me from Bagdad.  We set sail with a fair wind, and soon cleared the Persian gulf; when we had reached the open sea, we steered our course to the Indies; and the twentieth day saw land.  It was a very high mountain, at the bottom of which we perceived a great town:  having a fresh gale, we soon reached the harbour, and cast anchor.

I had not patience to wait till my sisters were dressed to go along with me, but went ashore alone in the boat.  Making directly to the gate of the town, I saw there a great number of men upon guard, some sitting, and others standing with sticks in their hands; and they had all such dreadful countenances that I was greatly alarmed; but perceiving they remained stationary, and did not so much as move their eyes, I took courage, and went nearer, when I found they were all turned into stones.  I entered the town and passed through several streets, where at different intervals stood men in various attitudes, but all motionless and petrified.  In the quarter inhabited by the merchants I found most of the shops shut, and in such as were open I likewise found the people petrified.

Having reached a vast square, in the heart of the city, I perceived a large folding gate, covered with plates of gold, which stood open; a curtain of silk stuff seemed to be drawn before it:  a lamp hung over the entrance.  After I had surveyed the building, I made no doubt but it was the palace of the prince who reigned over that country:  and being much astonished that I had not met with one living creature, I approached in hopes to find some.  I lifted up the curtain, and was surprised at beholding no one but the guards in the vestibule all petrified; some standing, some sitting, and some lying.

I came to a large court, where I saw before me a stately building, the windows of which were inclosed with gates of messy gold:  I concluded it to be the queen’s apartments.  I entered; and in a large hall I found several black eunuchs turned into stone.  I went from thence into a room richly furnished, where I perceived a lady in the same situation.  I knew it to be the queen, by the crown of gold on her head, and a necklace of pearls about her neck, each of them as large as a nut; I approached her to have a nearer view of it, and never beheld a finer objets.

I stood some time admiring the riches and magnificence of the room; but above all, the carpet, the cushions, and the sofas, which were all ornamented with Indian stuff of gold, and representations of men and beasts in silver, admirably executed.

I quitted the chamber where the petrified queen was, and passed through several other apartments and closets richly furnished, and at last came into a large room, where there was a throne of massive gold, raised several steps above the floor, and enriched with large enchased emeralds, and upon the throne there was a bed of rich stuff embroidered with pearls.  What surprised me most was a sparkling light which came from above the bed.  Being curious to know whence it proceeded, I ascended the steps, and lifting up my head, saw a diamond as large as the egg of an ostrich, lying upon a low stool; it was so pure, that I could not find the least blemish in it, and it sparkled with so much brilliancy, that when I saw it by day-light I could not endure its lustre.

At the head of the bed there stood on each side a lighted flambeau, but for what use I could not comprehend; however, it made me imagine that there was some living creature in this place; for I could not believe that the torches continued thus burning of themselves.  Several other rarities detained my curiosity in this room, which was inestimable in value, were it only for the diamond I mentioned.

The doors being all open, or but half shut, I surveyed some other apartments, that were as beautiful as those I had already seen.  I looked into the offices and store-rooms, which were full of riches.  In short, the wonders that everywhere appeared so wholly engrossed my attention, that I forgot my ship and my sisters, and thought of nothing but gratifying my curiosity.  In the mean time night came on, which reminded me that it was time to retire.  I proposed to return the way I had entered, but I could not find it; I lost myself among the apartments; and perceiving I was come back again to the large room, where the throne, the couch, the large diamond, and the torches stood, I resolved to take my night’s lodging there, and to depart the next morning early, to get aboard my ship.  I laid myself down upon a couch, not without some dread to be alone in a desolate place; and this fear hindered my sleep.

About midnight I heard a voice like that of a man reading the Koraun, after the same manner, and in the same tone as it is read in our mosques.  Being extremely glad to hear it, I immediately arose, and taking a torch in my hand, passed from one chamber to another on that side from whence the sound proceeded.  I came to the closet-door, and stood still, not doubting that it came from thence.  I set down my torch upon the ground, and looking through a window, found it to be an oratory.  It had, as we have in our mosques, a niche, to direct us whither we are to turn to say our prayers:  there were also lamps hung up, and two candlesticks with large tapers of white wax burning.

I saw a little carpet laid down like those we have to kneel upon when we say our prayers, and a comely young man sat on this carpet reading with great devotion the Koraun, which lay before him on a desk.  At this sight I was transported with admiration.  I wondered how it came to pass that he should be the only living creature in a town where all the people were turned into stones, and I did not doubt but there was something in the circumstance very extraordinary.

The door being only half shut, I opened it, went in, and standing upright before the niche, I repeated this prayer aloud:  “Praise be to God, who has favoured us with a happy voyage, and may he be graciously pleased to protect us in the same manner, until we arrive again in our own country.  Hear me, O Lord, and grant my request.”

The young man turned his eyes towards me, and said, “My good lady, pray let me know who you are, and what has brought you to this desolate city?  And, in return, I will you who I am, what has happened to me, why the inhabitants of this city are reduced to the state you see them in, and why I alone am safe in the midst of such a terrible disaster.”

I told him in a few words whence I had come, what had made me undertake the voyage, and how I safely arrived at the port after twenty days’ sailing; when I had done, I prayed him to perform his promise, and told him how much I was struck by the frightful desolation which I had seen in the city.

“Lady,” said the young man, “have patience for a moment.”  At these words he shut the Koraun, put it into a rich case, and laid it in the niche.  I took that opportunity to observe him, and perceiving in him so much good nature and beauty, I felt emotions I had never known before.  He made me sit down by him, and before he began his discourse, I could not forbear saying, with an air that discovered the sentiments I felt, “Amiable sir, dear object of my soul, I can scarcely have patience to wait for an account of all these wonderful objects that I have seen since I came into your city; and my curiosity cannot be satisfied too soon:  therefore pray, sir, let me know by what miracle you alone are left alive among so many persons that have died in so strange a manner.”

“Madam,” said the young man, “by the prayer you just now addressed to him, you have given me to understand that you have a knowledge of the true God.  I will acquaint you with the most remarkable effect of his greatness and power.  You must know, that this city was the metropolis of a mighty kingdom, over which the sultan my father reigned.  That prince, his whole court, the inhabitants of the city, and all his other subjects, were magi, worshippers of fire, and of Nardoun, the ancient king of the giants, who rebelled against God.

“But though I was born of an idolatrous father and mother, I had the good fortune in my youth to have a governess who was a good Moosulmaun.  ‘Dear prince,’ would she oftentimes say, ’there is but one true God; take heed that you do not acknowledge and adore any other.’  She taught me to read Arabic, and the book she gave me to study was the Koraun.  As soon as I was capable of understanding it, she explained to me all the passages of this excellent book, and infused piety into my mind, unknown to my father or any other person.  She happened to die, but not before she had perfectly instructed me in all that was necessary to convince me of the truth of the Moosulmaun religion.  After her death I persisted with constancy in the belief of its divinity:  and I abhor the false god Nardoun, and the adoration of fire.

“About three years and some months ago, a thundering voice was suddenly sounded so distinctly, through the whole city, that nobody could miss hearing it.  The words were these:  ’Inhabitants, abandon the worship of Nardoun, and of fire, and worship the only God who shews mercy.’

“This voice was heard three years successively, but no one was converted.  On the last day of that year, at four o’clock in the morning, all the inhabitants were changed in an instant into stone, every one in the condition and posture they happened to be in.  The sultan, my father, shared the same fate, for he was metamorphosed into a black stone, as he is to be seen in this palace, and the queen, my mother, had the like destiny.

“I am the only person who did not suffer under that heavy judgment, and ever since I have continued to serve God with more fervency than before.  I am persuaded, dear lady, that he has sent you hither for my comfort, for which I render him infinite thanks; for I must own that this solitary life is extremely irksome.”

All these expressions, and particularly the last, greatly increased my love for him.  “Prince,” said I, “there is no doubt but Providence has brought me into your port, to afford you an opportunity of withdrawing from this dismal place.  The ship I came in may serve in some measure to convince you that I am in some esteem at Bagdad, where I have left considerable property; and I dare engage to promise you sanctuary there, until the mighty commander of the faithful, vicegerent to our prophet whom you acknowledge, shew you the honour that is due to your merit.  This renowned prince lives at Bagdad, and as soon as he is informed of your arrival in his capital, you will find that it is not in vain to implore his assistance.  It is impossible you can stay any longer in a city where all the objects you behold must renew your grief:  my vessel is at your service, where you may absolutely command as you shall think fit.”  He accepted the offer, and we conversed the remainder of the night concerning our embarkation.

As soon as it was day we left the palace, and went aboard my ship, where we found my sisters, the captain, and the slaves, all much troubled at my absence.  After I had presented my sisters to the prince, I told them what had hindered my return the day before, how I had met with the young prince, his story, and the cause of the desolation of so fine a city.

The seamen were taken up several days in unlading the merchandize I brought with me, and embarking in its stead all the precious things in the palace, such as jewels, gold, and money.  We left the furniture and goods, which consisted of an infinite quantity of plate, &c., because our vessel could not carry it, for it would have required several vessels more to convey to Bagdad all the riches that we might have chosen to take with us.

After we had laden the vessel with what we thought most desirable, we took such provisions and water aboard as were necessary for our voyage (for we had still a great deal of those provisions left that we had taken in at Bussorah); at last we set sail with a wind as favourable as we could wish.

The young prince, my sisters and myself, enjoyed ourselves for some time very agreeably.  But alas! this good understanding did not last long, for my sisters grew jealous of the friendship between the prince and myself, and maliciously asked me one day, what we should do with him when we came to Bagdad?  I perceived immediately that they put this question on purpose to discover my inclinations; therefore, resolving to put it off with a jest, I answered, “I will take him for my husband;” and upon that, turning myself to the prince, said, “Sir, I humbly beg of you to give your consent, for as soon as we come to Bagdad I desire to offer you my person to be your slave, to do you all the service that is in my power, and to resign myself wholly to your commands.”

The prince replied, “I know not, madam, whether you be in jest or no; but for my part, I seriously declare before these ladies, your sisters, that from this moment I heartily accept your offer, not with any intention to have you as a slave, but as my lady and mistress:  nor will I pretend to have any power over your actions.”  At these words my sisters changed colour, and I could perceive afterwards that they did not love me as before.

We entered the Persian gulf, and had come within a short distance of Bussorah (where I hoped, considering the fair wind, we might have arrived the day following), when in the night, while I was asleep, my sisters watched their opportunity, and threw me overboard.  They did the same to the prince, who was drowned.  I floated some minutes on the water, and by good fortune, or rather miracle, I felt ground.  I went towards a dark spot, that, by what I could discern, seemed to be land, and proved to be a flat on the coast, which, when day appeared, I found to be a desert island, lying about twenty miles from Bussorah.  I soon dried my clothes in the sun, and as I walked along I found several kinds of fruit, and likewise fresh water, which gave me some hopes of preserving my life.

I had just laid myself down to rest in a shade, when I perceived a very large winged serpent coming towards me, with an irregular waving movement, and hanging out its tongue, which induced me to conclude it had received some injury.  I instantly arose, and perceived that it was pursued by a larger serpent which had hold of its tail, and was endeavouring to devour it.  This perilous situation of the first serpent excited my pity, and instead of retreating I assumed courage to take up a stone that lay near me, and to throw it with all my strength at the other, which I hit upon the head and killed.  The other, finding itself at liberty, took wing and flew away.  I looked after it for some time till it disappeared.  I then sought another shady spot for repose, and fell asleep.

Judge what was my surprise when I awoke, to see standing by me a black woman of lively and agreeable features, who held in her hand two bitches of the same colour, fastened together.  I sat up, and asked her who she was?  “I am,” said she, “the serpent whom you lately delivered from my mortal enemy.  I did not know in what way I could better requite the important services you have rendered me than by what I have just done.  The treachery of your sisters was well known to me, and to avenge your wrongs, as soon as I was liberated by your generous assistance, I called together several of my companions, fairies like myself, conveyed into your storehouses at Bagdad all the lading of your vessel, and afterwards sunk it.

“These two black bitches are your sisters, whom I have transformed into this shape.  But this punishment will not suffice; and my will is that you treat them hereafter in the way I shall direst.”

As soon as she had thus spoken the fairy took me under one of her arms, and the two bitches under the other, and conveyed us to my house in Bagdad; where I found in my storehouses all the riches with which my vessel had been laden.  Before she left me, she delivered to me the two bitches, and said, “If you would not be changed into a similar form, I command you, in the name of him that governs the sea, to give each of your sisters every night one hundred lashes with a rod, as the punishment of the crime they have committed against yourself, and the young prince, whom they have drowned.”  I was forced to promise obedience.  Since that time I have whipped them every night, though with regret, whereof your majesty has been a witness.  My tears testify with how much sorrow and reluctance I perform this painful duty; and in this your majesty may see I am more to be pitied than blamed.  If there be any thing else relating to myself that you desire to know, my sister Amene will give you full information in the relation of her story.

After the caliph had heard Zobeide with much astonishment, he desired his grand vizier to request Amene to acquaint him wherefore her breast was disfigured with so many scars.

Amene addressed herself to the caliph, and began her story after this manner:

The Story of Amene.

Commander of the faithful, to avoid repeating what your majesty has already heard in my sister’s story, I shall only add, that after my mother had taken a house for herself to live in, during her widowhood, she gave me in marriage, with the portion my father left me, to a gentleman who had one of the best estates in the city.

I had scarcely been a year married when I became a widow, and was left in possession of all my husband’s property, which amounted to 90,000 sequins.  The interest of this money was sufficient to maintain me very honourably.  When the first six months of my mourning was over, I caused to be made for me ten different dresses, of such magnificence that each came to a thousand sequins; and at the end of the year I began to wear them.

One day, while I was alone engaged in my domestic affairs, I was told that a lady desired to speak to me.  I gave orders that she should be admitted.  She was a person advanced in years; she saluted me by kissing the ground, and said to me kneeling, “Dear lady, excuse the freedom I take to trouble you, the confidence I have in your charity makes me thus bold.  I must acquaint your ladyship that I have an orphan daughter, who is to be married this day.  She and I are both strangers, and have no acquaintance in this town; which much perplexes me, for we wish the numerous family with whom we are going to ally ourselves to think we are not altogether unknown and without credit:  therefore, most beautiful lady, if you would vouchsafe to honour the wedding with your presence, we shall be infinitely obliged, because the ladies of our country, when informed that a lady of your rank has strewn us this respect, will then know that we are not regarded here as unworthy and despised persons.  But, alas! madam, if you refuse this request, how great will be our mortification! we know not where else to apply.”

This poor woman’s address, which she spoke with tears, moved my compassion.  “Good woman,” said I, “do not afflict yourself, I will grant you the favour you desire; tell me whither I must go, and I will meet you as soon as I am dressed.”  The old woman was so transported with joy at my answer, that she kissed my feet before I had time to prevent her.  “My compassionate lady,” said she, rising, “God will reward the kindness you have shewed to your servants, and make your heart as joyful as you have made theirs.  You need not at present trouble yourself; it will be time enough for you to go when I call for you in the evening.  So farewell, madam, till I have the honour to see you again.”

As soon as she was gone, I took the suit I liked best, with a necklace of large pearls, bracelets, pendents for my ears, and rings set with the finest and most sparkling diamonds; for my mind presaged what would befall me.

When the night closed in, the old woman called upon me, with a countenance full of joy.  She kissed my hands, and said, “My dear lady, the relations of my son-in-law, who are the principal ladies of the city, are now met together; you may come when you please; I am ready to conduct you.”  We immediately set out; she walked before me, and I was followed by a number of my women and slaves properly dressed for the occasion.  We stopt in a wide street, newly swept and watered, at a spacious gate with a lamp, by the light of which I read this inscription in golden letters over the entrance:  “This is the everlasting abode of pleasure and joy.”  The old woman knocked, and the gate was opened immediately.

I was conducted towards the lower end of the court, into a large hall, where I was received by a young lady of admirable beauty.  She drew near, and after having embraced me, made me sit down by her upon a sofa, on which was raised a throne of precious wood set with diamonds.  “Madam,” said she, “you are brought hither to assist at a wedding; but I hope it will be a different wedding from what you expected.  I have a brother, one of the handsomest men in the world:  he is fallen so much in love with the fame of your beauty, that his fate depends wholly upon you, and he will be the unhappiest of men if you do not take pity on him.  He knows your quality, and I can assure you he is in no respect unworthy of your alliance.  If my prayers, madam, can prevail, I shall join them with his, and humbly beg you will not refuse the proposal of being his wife.”

After the death of my husband I had not thought of marrying again.  But I had no power to refuse the solicitation of so charming a lady.  As soon as I had given consent by my silence, accompanied with a blush, the young lady claps her hands, and immediately a closet-door opened, out of which came a young man of a majestic air, and so graceful a behaviour, that I thought myself happy to have made so great a conquest.  He sat down by me, and I found from his conversation that his merits far exceeded the eulogium of his sister.

When she perceived that we were satisfied with one another, she claps her hands a second time, and out came a Cauzee, who wrote our contract of marriage, signed it himself, and caused it to be attested by four witnesses he brought along with him.  The only condition that my new husband imposed upon me was, that I should not be seen by nor speak to any other man but himself, and he vowed to me that, if I complied in this respect, I should have no reason to complain of him.  Our marriage was concluded and finished after this manner; so I became the principal actress in a wedding to which I had only been invited as a guest.

About a month after our marriage, having occasion for some stuffs, I asked my husband’s permission to go out to buy them, which he granted; and I took with me the old woman of whom I spoke before, she being one of the family, and two of my own female slaves.

When we came to the street where the merchants reside, the old woman said, “Dear mistress, since you want silk stuffs, I must take you to a young merchant of my acquaintance, who has a great variety; and that you may not fatigue yourself by running from shop to shop, I can assure you that you will find in his what no other can furnish.”  I was easily persuaded, and we entered a shop belonging to a young merchant who was tolerably handsome.  I sat down, and bade the old woman desire him to shew me the finest silk stuffs he had.  The woman desired me to speak myself; but I told her it was one of the articles of my marriage contract not to speak to any man but my husband, which I ought to keep.

The merchant shewed me several stuffs, of which one pleased me better than the rest; but I bade her ask the price.  He answered the old woman, “I will not sell it for gold or money, but I will make her a present of it, if she will give me leave to kiss her cheek.”  I ordered the old woman to tell him, that he was very rude to propose such a freedom.  But instead of obeying me, she said, “What the merchant desires of you is no such great matter; you need not speak, but only present him your cheek.”  The stuff pleased me so much, that I was foolish enough to take her advice.  The old woman and my slaves stood up, that nobody might see, and I put up my veil; but instead of kissing me, the merchant bit me so violently as to draw blood.

The pain and my surprise were so great, that I fell down in a swoon, and continued insensible so long, that the merchant had time to escape.  When I came to myself, I found my cheek covered with blood:  the old woman and my slaves took care to cover it with my veil, that the people who came about us could not perceive it, but supposed I had only had a fainting fit.

The old woman who accompanied me being extremely troubled at this accident, endeavoured to comfort me.  “My dear mistress,” said she, “I beg your pardon, for I am the cause of this misfortune, having brought you to this merchant, because he is my countryman:  but I never thought he would be guilty of such a villainous action.  But do not grieve; let us hasten home, I will apply a remedy that shall in three days so perfectly cure you, that not the least mark shall be visible.”  The fit had made me so weak, that I was scarcely able to walk.  But at last I got home, where I again fainted, as I went into my chamber.  Meanwhile, the old woman applied her remedy; I came to myself, and went to bed.

My husband came to me at night, and seeing my head bound up, asked me the reason.  I told him I had the head-ache, which I hoped would have satisfied him, but he took a candle, and saw my cheek was hurt:  “How comes this wound?” said he.  Though I did not consider myself as guilty of any great offence, yet I could not think of owning the truth.  Besides, to make such an avowal to a husband, I considered as somewhat indecorous; I therefore said, “That as I was going, under his permission, to purchase some silk stuff, a porter, carrying a load of wood, came so near to me, in a narrow street, that one of the sticks grazed my cheek; but had not done me much hurt.”  This account put my husband into a violent passion.  “This act,” said he, “shall not go unpunished.  I will to-morrow order the lieutenant of the police to seize all those brutes of porters, and cause them to be hanged.”  Fearful of occasioning the death of so many innocent persons, I said, “Sir, I should be sorry so great a piece of injustice should be committed.  Pray refrain; for I should deem myself unpardonable, were I to be the cause of so much mischief.”  “Then tell me sincerely,” said he, “how came you by this wound.”  I answered, “That it was occasioned by the inadvertency of a broom-seller upon an ass, who coming behind me, while he was looking another way, his ass came against me with so much violence, that I fell down, and hurt my cheek upon some glass.”  “If that is the case,” said my husband, “to-morrow morning, before sun-rise, the grand vizier Jaaffier shall be informed of this insolence, and cause all the broom-sellers to be put to death.”  “For the love of God, Sir,” said I, “let me beg of you to pardon them, for they are not guilty.”  “How, madam,” he demanded, “what then am I to believe?  Speak, for I am resolved to know the truth from your own mouth.”  “Sir,” I replied, “I was taken with a giddiness, and fell down, and that is the whole matter.”

At these words my husband lost all patience.  “I have,” said he, “too long listened to your falsehoods.”  As he spoke he clapped his hands, and in came three slaves:  “Pull her out of bed,” said he, “and lay her in the middle of the floor.”  The slaves obeyed, one holding me by the head, another by the feet; he commanded the third to fetch a cimeter, and when he had brought it, “Strike,” said he, “cut her in two, and then throw her into the Tygris.  This is the punishment I inflict on those to whom I have given my heart, when they falsify their promise.”  When he saw that the slave hesitated to obey him, “Why do you not strike?” said he.  “What do you wait for?”

“Madam,” said the slave then, “you are near the last moment of your life, consider if you have any thing to dispose of before you die.”  I begged permission to speak one word, which was granted me.  I lifted up my head, and casting an affectionate look on my husband, said, “Alas! to what a condition am I reduced! must I then die in the prime of my youth!” I could say no more, for my tears and sighs choked my utterance.  My husband was not at all moved, but, on the contrary, went on to reproach me; and it would have been in vain to attempt a reply.  I had recourse to intreaties and prayers; but he had no regard to them, and commanded the slaves to proceed to execution.  The old woman, who had been his nurse, came in just at that moment, fell down upon her knees, and endeavoured to appease his wrath.  “My son,” said she, “since I have been your nurse and brought you up, let me beg the favour of you to grant me her life.  Consider, that he who kills shall be killed, and that you will stain your reputation, and forfeit the esteem of mankind.  What will the world say of such sanguinary violence?” She spoke these words in such an affecting manner, accompanied with tears, that she prevailed upon him at last to abandon his purpose.

“Well then,” said he to his nurse, “for your sake I will spare her life; but she shall bear about her person some marks to make her remember her offence.”  When he had thus spoken, one of the slaves, by his order, gave me upon my sides and breast so many blows, with a little cane, that he tore away both skin and flesh, which threw me into a swoon.  In this state he caused the same slaves, the executioners of his fury, to carry me into a house, where the old woman took care of me.  I kept my bed four months; at last I recovered:  the scars which, contrary to my wish, you saw yesterday, have remained ever since.

As soon as I was able to walk, and go abroad, I resolved to retire to the house which was left me by my first husband, but I could not find the site whereon it had stood.  My second husband, in the heat of his resentment, was not satisfied with the demolition of that, but caused every other house in the same street to be razed to the ground.  I believe such an act of violence was never heard of before; but against whom could I complain?  The perpetrator had taken good care to conceal himself.  But suppose I had discovered him, is it not easily seen that his conduct must have proceeded from absolute power?  How then could I dare to complain?

Being left thus destitute and helpless, I had recourse to my dear sister Zobeide, whose adventures your majesty has just heard.  To her I made known my misfortune; she received me with her accustomed goodness, and advised me to bear my ambition patience.  “This is the way of the world,” said she, “which either robs us of our property, our friends, or our lovers; and some times of all together.”  In confirmation of her remark, she at the same time gave me an account of the loss of the young prince, occasioned by the jealousy of her two sisters.  She told me also by what accident they were transformed into bitches:  and in the last place, after a thousand testimonials of her love towards me, she introduced me to my youngest sister, who had likewise taken sanctuary with her after the death of her mother.

Having returned our grateful acknowledgments to God for having thus brought us together, we resolved to preserve our freedom, and never again to separate.  We have now long enjoyed this tranquil life.  As it was my business to manage the affairs of the house, I always took pleasure in going myself to purchase what we wanted.  I happened to go abroad yesterday for this purpose, and the things I bought I caused to be carried home by a porter, who proving to be a sensible and jocose fellow, we kept with us for a little diversion.  Three calenders happened to come to our door as it began to grow dark, and prayed us to give them shelter till the next morning We admitted them upon certain conditions which they agreed to observe; and after we had made them sit at table with us, they in their own way entertained us with a concert of music.  At this time we heard knocking at our gate.  This proceeded from three merchants of Moussol, men of good appearance, who begged the same favour which the calenders had obtained before.  We consented upon the same conditions, but neither of them kept their promise.  Though we had power, as well as justice on our side, to punish them, yet we contented ourselves with demanding from them the history of their lives; and afterwards confined our revenge to dismissing them, after they had done, and denying them the asylum they requested.

The caliph was well pleased to be thus informed of what he desired to know; and publicly expressed his admiration of what he had heard.

The caliph having satisfied his curiosity, thought himself obliged to shew his generosity to the calender princes, and also to give the three ladies some proof of his bounty.  He himself, without making use of his minister, the grand vizier, spoke to Zobeide.  “Madam, did not this fairy, that shewed herself to you in the shape of a serpent, and imposed such a rigorous command upon you, tell you where her place of abode was?  Or rather, did she not promise to see you, and restore those bitches to their natural shape?”

“Commander of the faithful,” answered Zobeide, “I forgot to tell your majesty that the fairy left with me a bundle of hair, saying, that her presence would one day be of use to me; and then, if I only burnt two tufts of this hair, she would be with me in a moment, though she were beyond mount Caucasus.”  “Madam,” demanded the caliph, “where is the bundle of hair?” She answered, “Ever since that time I have been so careful of it, that I always carry it about me.”  Upon which she pulled it out, opened the case which contained it, and shewed it to him.  “Well then,” said the caliph, “let us bring the fairy hither; you could not call her in a better time, for I long to see her.”

Zobeide having consented, fire was brought in, and she threw the whole bundle of hair into it.  The palace at that instant began to shake, and the fairy appeared before the caliph in the form of a lady very richly dressed.

“Commander of the faithful,” said she to the prince, “you see I am ready to receive your commands.  The lady who gave me this call by your order did me essential service.  To evince my gratitude, I revenged her of her sisters’ inhumanity, by changing them to bitches; but if your majesty commands me, I will restore them to their former shape.”

“Generous fairy,” replied the caliph, “you cannot do me a greater pleasure; vouchsafe them that favour, and I will find some means to comfort them for their hard penance.  But besides, I have another boon to ask in favour of that lady, who has had such cruel usage from an unknown husband.  As you undoubtedly know all things, oblige me with the name of this barbarous wretch, who could not be contented to exercise his outrageous and unmanly cruelty upon her person, but has also most unjustly taken from her all her substance.  I only wonder how such an unjust and inhuman action could be performed under my authority, and even in my residence, without having come to my knowledge.”

“To oblige your majesty,” answered the fairy, “I will restore the two bitches to their former state, and I will so cure the lady of her scars, that it shall never appear she was so beaten; and I will also tell you who it was that abused her.”

The caliph sent for the two bitches from Zobeide’s house, and when they came, a glass of water was brought to the fairy by her desire.  She pronounced over it some words which nobody understood; then throwing some part of it upon Amene, and the rest upon the bitches, the latter became two ladies of surprising beauty, and the scars that were upon Amene disappeared.  After which the fairy said to the caliph, “Commander of the faithful, I must now discover to you the unknown husband you enquire after.  He is very nearly related to yourself, for it is prince Amin, your eldest son, who falling passionately in love with this lady from the fame of her beauty, by stratagem had her brought to his house, where he married her.  As to the blows he caused to be given her, he is in some measure excusable; for the lady his spouse had been a little too easy, and the excuses she had made were calculated to lead him to believe she was more faulty than she really was.  This is all I can say to satisfy your curiosity.”  At these words she saluted the caliph, and vanished.

The prince being filled with admiration, and having much satisfaction in the changes that had happened through his means, acted in such a manner as will perpetuate his memory to all ages.  First, he sent for his son Amin, told him that he was informed of his secret marriage, and how he had ill-treated Amene upon a very slight cause.  Upon this the prince did not wait for his father’s commands, but received her again immediately.

After which the caliph declared that he would give his own heart and hand to Zobeide, and offered the other three sisters to the calenders, sons of sultans, who accepted them for their brides with much joy.  The caliph assigned each of them a magnificent palace in the city of Bagdad, promoted them to the highest dignities of his empire, and admitted them to his councils.

The chief Cauzee of Bagdad being called, with witnesses, wrote the contracts of marriage; and the caliph in promoting by his patronage the happiness of many persons who had suffered such incredible calamities, drew a thousand blessings upon himself.

The story of Sinbad the voyager.

In the reign of the same caliph Haroun al Rusheed, whom I have already mentioned, there lived at Bagdad a poor porter called Hindbad.  One day, when the weather was excessively hot, he was employed to carry a heavy burden from one end of the town to the other.  Being much fatigued, and having still a great way to go, he came into a street where a refreshing breeze blew on his face, and the pavement was sprinkled with rose-water.  As he could not desire a better place to rest and recruit himself, he took off his load and sat upon it, near a large mansion.

He was much pleased that he stopped in this place; for the agreeable smell of wood of aloes, and of pastils that came from the house, mixing with the scent of the rose-water, completely perfumed and embalmed the air.  Besides, he heard from within a concert of instrumental music, accompanied with the harmonious notes of nightingales, and other birds, peculiar to the climate.  This charming melody, and the smell of several sorts of savoury dishes, made the porter conclude there was a feast, with great rejoicings within.  His business seldom leading him that way, he knew not to whom the mansion belonged; but to satisfy his curiosity, he went to some of the servants, whom he saw standing at the gate in magnificent apparel, and asked the name of the proprietor.  “How,” replied one of them, “do you live in Bagdad, and know not that this is the house of Sinbad, the sailor, that famous voyager, who has sailed round the world?” The porter, who had heard of this Sinbad’s riches, could not but envy a man whose condition he thought to be as happy as his own was deplorable:  and his mind being fretted with these reflections, he lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said loud enough to be heard, “Almighty creator of all things, consider the difference between Sinbad and me!  I am every day exposed to fatigues and calamities, and can scarcely get coarse barley-bread for myself and my family, whilst happy Sinbad profusely expends immense riches, and leads a life of continual pleasure.  What has he done to obtain from thee a lot so agreeable?  And what have I done to deserve one so wretched?” Having finished his expostulation, he struck his foot against the ground, like a man absorbed in grief and despair.

Whilst the porter was thus indulging his melancholy, a servant came out of the house, and taking him by the arm, bade him follow him, for Sinbad, his master, wanted to speak to him.

Sir, your majesty may easily imagine, that the repining Hindbad was not a little surprised at this compliment.  For, considering what he had said, he was afraid Sinbad had sent for him to punish him:  therefore he would have excused himself, alleging, that he could not leave his burden in the middle of the street.  But Sinbad’s servants assured him they would look to it, and were so urgent with him, that he was obliged to yield.

The servants brought him into a great hall, where a number of people sat round a table, covered with all sorts of savoury dishes.  At the upper end sat a comely venerable gentleman, with a long white beard, and behind him stood a number of officers and domestics, all ready to attend his pleasure.  This personage was Sinbad.  The porter, whose fear was increased at the sight of so many people, and of a banquet so sumptuous, saluted the company trembling.  Sinbad bade him draw near, and seating him at his right hand, served him himself, and gave him excellent wine, of which there was abundance upon the sideboard.

When the repast was over, Sinbad addressed his conversation to Hindbad; and calling him brother, according to the manner of the Arabians, when they are familiar one with another, enquired his name and employment.

“My lord,” answered he, “my name is Hindbad.”  “I am very glad to see you,” replied Sinbad; “and I daresay the same on behalf of all the company:  but I wish to hear from your own mouth what it was you lately said in the street.”  Sinbad had himself heard the porter complain through the window, and this it was that induced him to have him brought in.

At this request, Hindbad hung down his head in confusion, and replied, “My lord, I confess that my fatigue put me out of humour, and occasioned me to utter some indiscreet words, which I beg you to pardon.”  “Do not think I am so unjust,” resumed Sinbad, “as to resent such a complaint.  I consider your condition, and instead of upbraiding, commiserate you.  But I must rectify your error concerning myself.  You think, no doubt, that I have acquired, without labour and trouble, the ease and indulgence which I now enjoy.  But do not mistake; I did not attain to this happy condition, without enduring for several years more trouble of body and mind than can well be imagined.  Yes, gentlemen,” he added, speaking to the whole company, “I can assure you, my troubles were so extraordinary, that they were calculated to discourage the most covetous from undertaking such voyages as I did, to acquire riches.  Perhaps you have never heard a distinct account of my wonderful adventures, and the dangers I encountered, in my seven voyages; and since I have this opportunity, I will give you a faithful account of them, not doubting but it will be acceptable.”

As Sinbad wished to relate his adventures chiefly on the porter’s account, he ordered his burden to be carried to the place of its destination, and then proceeded.

The First Voyage.

I inherited from my father considerable property, the greater part of which I squandered in my youth in dissipation; but I perceived my error, and reflected that riches were perishable, and quickly consumed by such ill managers as myself.  I farther considered, that by my irregular way of living I wretchedly misspent my time; which is, of all things, the most valuable.  I remembered the saying of the great Solomon, which I had frequently heard from my father; That death is more tolerable than poverty.  Struck with these reflections, I collected the remains of my fortune, and sold all my effects by public auction.  I then entered into a contract with some merchants, who traded by sea.  I took the advice of such as I thought most capable of assisting me:  and resolving to improve what money I had, I went to Bussorah, and embarked with several merchants on board a ship which we had jointly fitted out.

We set sail, and steered our course towards the Indies, through the Persian gulf, which is formed by the coasts of Arabia Felix on the right, and by those of Persia on the left, and, according to common opinion is seventy leagues wide at the broadest place.  The eastern sea, as well as that of the Indies, is very spacious.  It is bounded on one side by the coasts of Abyssinia, and is 4,500 leagues in length to the isles of Vakvak.  At first I was troubled with the sea-sickness, but speedily recovered my health, and was not afterwards subject to that complaint.

In our voyage we touched at several islands, where we sold or exchanged our goods.  One day, whilst under sail, we were becalmed near a small island, but little elevated above the level of the water, and resembling a green meadow.  The captain ordered his sails to be furled, and permitted such persons as were so inclined to land; of this number I was one.

But while we were enjoying ourselves in eating and drinking, and recovering ourselves from the fatigue of the sea, the island on a sudden trembled, and shook us terribly.

The trembling of the island was perceived on board the ship, and we were called upon to re-embark speedily, or we should all be lost; for what we took for an island proved to be the back of a sea monster.  The nimblest got into the sloop, others betook themselves to swimming; but for myself I was still upon the back of the creature, when he dived into the sea, and I had time only to catch hold of a piece of wood that we had brought out of the ship to make a fire.  Meanwhile, the captain, having received those on board who were in the sloop, and taken up some of those that swam, resolved to improve the favourable gale that had just risen, and hoisting his sails pursued his voyage, so that it was impossible for me to recover the ship.

Thus was I exposed to the mercy of the waves.  I struggled for my life all the rest of the day and the following night.  By this time I found my strength gone, and despaired of saving my life, when happily a wave threw me against an island, The bank was high and rugged; so that I could scarcely have got up, had it not been for some roots of trees, which fortune seemed to have preserved in this place for my safety.  Having reached the land, I lay down upon the ground half dead, until the sun appeared.  Then, though I was very feeble, both from hard labour and want of food, I crept along to find some herbs fit to eat, and had the good luck not only to procure some, but likewise to discover a spring of excellent water, which contributed much to recover me.  After this I advanced farther into the island, and at last reached a fine plain, where at a great distance I perceived a horse feeding.  I went towards it, fluctuating between hope and fear, for I knew not whether in advancing I was more likely to endanger or to preserve my life.  As I approached, I perceived it to be a very fine mare, tied to a stake.  Whilst I was admiring its beauty, I heard from beneath the voice of a man, who immediately appeared, and asked me who I was?  I related to him my adventure, after which, taking me by the hand, he led me into a cave, where there were several other people, no less amazed to see me than I was to see them.

I partook of some provisions which they offered me.  I then asked them what they did in such a desert place? to which they answered, that they were grooms belonging to Maha-raja, sovereign of the island; that every year, at the same season, they brought thither the king’s mares, and fastened them as I had seen, until they were covered by a sea-horse, who afterwards endeavoured to destroy the mares; but was prevented by their noise, and obliged to return to the sea.  The mares when in foal were taken back, and the horses thus produced were kept for the king’s use, and called seahorses.  They added, that they were to return home on the morrow, and had I been one day later, I must have perished, because the inhabited part of the island was at a great distance, and it would have been impossible for me to have got thither without a guide.

While they entertained me thus, the horse came out of the sea, as they had told me, covered the mare, and afterwards would have devoured her; but upon a great noise made by the grooms, he left her, and plunged into the sea.

Next morning they returned with their mares to the capital of the island, took me with them, and presented me to the Maha-raja.  He asked me who I was, and by what adventure I had come into his dominions?  After I had satisfied him, he told me he was much concerned for my misfortune, and at the same time ordered that I should want nothing; which commands his officers were so generous and careful as to see exactly fulfilled.

Being a merchant, I frequented men of my own profession, and particularly enquired for those who were strangers, that perchance I might hear news from Bagdad, or find an opportunity to return.  For the Maha-raja’s capital is situated on the sea-coast, and has a fine harbour, where ships arrive daily from the different quarters of the world.  I frequented also the society of the learned Indians, and took delight to hear them converse; but withal, I took care to make my court regularly to the Maha-raja, and conversed with the governors and petty kings, his tributaries, that were about him.  They put a thousand questions respecting my country; and I being willing to inform myself as to their laws and customs, asked them concerning every thing which I thought worth knowing.

There belongs to this king an island named Cassel.  They assured me that every night a noise of drums was heard there, whence the mariners fancied that it was the residence of Degial.  I determined to visit this wonderful place, and in my way thither saw fishes of 100 and 200 cubits long, that occasion more fear than hurt; for they are so timorous, that they will fly upon the rattling of two sticks or boards.  I saw likewise other fish about a cubit in length, that had heads like owls.

As I was one day at the port after my return, a ship arrived, and as soon as she cast anchor, they began to unload her, and the merchants on board ordered their goods to be carried into the customhouse.  As I cast my eye upon some bales, and looked to the name, I found my own, and perceived the bales to be the same that I had embarked at Bussorah.  I also knew the captain; but being persuaded that he believed me to be drowned, I went, and asked him whose bales these were?  He replied, that they belonged to a merchant at Bagdad, called Sinbad, who came to sea with him; but one day, being near an island, as was supposed, he went ashore, with several other passengers, upon this island, which was only a monstrous fish, that lay asleep upon the the sur-face of the water:  but as soon as he felt the heat of the fire they had kindled upon his back, to dress some victuals, began to move, and dived under water.  Most of the persons who were upon him perished, and among them the unfortunate Sinbad.  Those bales belonged to him, and I am resolved to trade with them until I meet with some of his family, to whom I may return the profit.  “I am that Sinbad,” said I, “whom you thought to be dead, and those bales are mine.”

When the captain heard me speak thus, “Heavens!” he exclaimed, “whom can we trust in these times?  There is no faith left among men.  I saw Sinbad perish with my own eyes, as did also the passengers on board, and yet you tell me you are that Sinbad.  What impudence is this?  To look on you, one would take you to be a man of probity, and yet you tell a horrible falsehood, in order to possess yourself of what does not belong to you.”  “Have patience,” replied I; “do me the favour to hear what I have to say.”  “Very well,” said he, “speak, I am ready to hear you.”  Then I told him how I had escaped, and by what adventure I met with the grooms of Maha-raja, who had brought me to his court.

His confidence began to abate upon this declaration, and he was at length persuaded that I was no cheat:  for there came people from his ship who knew me, paid me great compliments, and expressed much joy at seeing me alive.  At last he recollected me himself, and embracing me, “Heaven be praised,” said he, “for your happy escape.  I cannot express the joy it affords, me; there are your goods, take and do with them as you please.”  I thanked him, acknowledged his probity, and in requital, offered him part of my goods as a present, which he generously refused.

I took out what was most valuable in my bales, and presented them to the Maha-raja, who, knowing my misfortune, asked me how I came by such rarities.  I acquainted him with the circumstance of their recovery.  He was pleased at my good luck, accepted my present, and in return gave me one much more considerable.  Upon this, I took leave of him, and went aboard the same ship, after I had exchanged my goods for the commodities of that country.  I carried with me wood of aloes, sandal, camphire, nutmegs, cloves, pepper, and ginger.  We passed by several islands, and at last arrived at Bussorah, from whence I came to this city, with the value of 100,000 sequins.  My family and I received one another with all the transports of sincere affection.  I bought slaves of both sexes, and a landed estate, and built a magnificent house.  Thus I settled myself, resolving to forget the miseries I had suffered, and to enjoy the pleasures of life.

Sinbad stopped here, and ordered the musicians to proceed with their concert, which the story had interrupted.  The company continued enjoying themselves till the evening, and it was time to retire, when Sinbad sent for a purse of 100 sequins and giving it to the porter, said, “Take this, Hindbad, return to your home, and come back to-morrow to hear more of my adventures.”  The porter went away, astonished at the honour done, and the present made him.  The account of this adventure proved very agreeable to his wife and children, who did not fail to return thanks to God for what providence had sent him by the hand of Sinbad.

Hindbad put on his best apparel next day, and returned to the bountiful traveller, who received him with a pleasant air, and welcomed him heartily.  When all the guests had arrived, dinner was served, and continued a long time.  When it was ended, Sinbad, addressing himself to the company, said, “Gentlemen, be pleased to listen to the adventures of my second voyage; they deserve your attention even more than those of the first.”  Upon which every one held his peace, and Sinbad proceeded.

The Second Voyage.

I designed, after my first voyage, to spend the rest of my days at Bagdad, as I had the honour to tell you yesterday; but it was not long ere I grew weary of an indolent life.  My inclination to trade revived.  I bought goods proper for the commerce I intended, and put to sea a second time with merchants of known probity.  We embarked on board a good ship, and after recommending ourselves to God, set sail.  We traded from island to island, and exchanged commodities with great profit.  One day we landed in an island covered with several sorts of fruit-trees, but we could see neither man nor animal.  We went to take a little fresh air in the meadows, along the streams that watered them.  Whilst some diverted themselves with gathering flowers, and other fruits, I took my wine and provisions, and sat down near a stream betwixt two high trees, which formed a thick shade.  I made a good meal, and afterwards fell asleep.  I cannot tell how long I slept, but when I awoke the ship was gone.

I was much alarmed at finding the ship gone.  I got up and looked around me, but could not see one of the merchants who landed with me.  I perceived the ship under sail, but at such a distance, that I lost sight of her in a short time.

I leave you to guess at my melancholy reflections in this sad condition:  I was ready to die with grief.  I cried out in agony; beat my head and breast, and threw myself upon the ground, where I lay some time in despair, one afflicting thought being succeeded by another still more afflicting.  I upbraided myself a hundred times for not being content with the produce of my first voyage, that might have sufficed me all my life.  But all this was in vain, and my repentance too late.

At last I resigned myself to the will of God.  Not knowing what to do, I climbed up to the top of a lofty tree, from whence I looked about on all sides, to see if I could discover any thing that could give me hopes.  When I gazed towards the sea I could see nothing but sky and water; but looking over the land I beheld something white; and coming down, I took what provision I had left, and went towards it, the distance being so great, that I could not distinguish what it was.

As I approached, I thought it to be a white dome, of a prodigious height and extent; and when I came up to it, I touched it, and found it to be very smooth.  I went round to see if it was open on any side, but saw it was not, and that there was no climbing up to the top as it was so smooth.  It was at least fifty paces round.

By this time the sun was about to set, and all of a sudden the sky became as dark as if it had been covered with a thick cloud.  I was much astonished at this sudden darkness, but much more when I found it occasioned by a bird of a monstrous size, that came flying toward me.  I remembered that I had often heard mariners speak of a miraculous bird called Roc, and conceived that the great dome which I so much admired must be its egg.  In short, the bird alighted, and sat over the egg.  As I perceived her coming, I crept to the egg, so that I had before me one of the legs of the bird, which was as big as the trunk of a tree.  I tied myself strongly to it with my turban, in hopes that the roc next morning would carry me with her out of this desert island.  After having passed the night in this condition, the bird flew away as soon as it was daylight, and carried me so high, that I could not discern the earth; she afterwards descended with so much rapidity that I lost my senses.  But when I found myself on the ground, I speedily untied the knot, and had scarcely done so, when the roc, having taken up a serpent of a monstrous length in her bill, flew away.

The spot where it left me was encompassed on all sides by mountains, that seemed to reach above the clouds, and so steep that there was no possibility of getting out of the valley.  This was a new perplexity:  so that when I compared this place with the desert island from which the roc had brought me, I found that I had gained nothing by the change.

As I walked through this valley, I perceived it was strewed with diamonds, some of which were of a surprising bigness.  I took pleasure in looking upon them; but shortly saw at a distance such objects as greatly diminished my satisfaction, and which I could not view without terror, namely, a great number of serpents, so monstrous, that the least of them was capable of swallowing an elephant.  They retired in the day-time to their dens, where they hid themselves from the roc their enemy, and came out only in the night.

I spent the day in walking about in the valley, resting myself at times in such places as I thought most convenient.  When night came on, I went into a cave, where I thought I might repose in safety.  I secured the entrance, which was low and narrow, with a great stone to preserve me from the serpents; but not so far as to exclude the light.  I supped on part of my provisions, but the serpents, which began hissing round me, put me into such extreme fear, that you may easily imagine I did not sleep.  When day appeared, the serpents retired, and I came out of the cave trembling.  I can justly say, that I walked upon diamonds, without feeling any inclination to touch them.  At last I sat down, and notwithstanding my apprehensions, not having closed my eyes during the night, fell asleep, after having eaten a little more of my provision.  But I had scarcely shut my eyes, when something that fell by me with a great noise awaked me.  This was a large piece of raw meat; and at the same time I saw several others fall down from the rocks in different places.

I had always regarded as fabulous what I had heard sailors and others relate of the valley of diamonds, and of the stratagems employed by merchants to obtain jewels from thence; but now I found that they had stated nothing but truth.  For the fact is, that the merchants come to the neighbourhood of this valley, when the eagles have young ones, and throwing great joints of meat into the valley, the diamonds, upon whose points they fall, stick to them; the eagles, which are stronger in this country than any where else, pounce with great force upon those pieces of meat, and carry them to their nests on the precipices of the rocks to feed their young:  the merchants at this time run to their nests, disturb and drive off the eagles by their shouts, and take away the diamonds that stick to the meat.

Until I perceived the device I had concluded it to be impossible for me to get from this abyss, which I regarded as my grave; but now I changed my opinion, and began to think upon the means of my deliverance.

I began to collect together the largest diamonds I could find, and put them into the leather bag in which I used to carry my provisions.  I afterwards took the largest of the pieces of meat, tied it close round me with the cloth of my turban, and then laid myself upon the ground with my face downward, the bag of diamonds being made fast to my girdle.

I had scarcely placed myself in this posture when the eagles came.  Each of them seized a piece of meat, and one of the strongest having taken me up, with the piece of meat to which I was fastened, carried me to his nest on the top of the mountain.  The merchants immediately began their shouting to frighten the eagles; and when they had obliged them to quit their prey, one of them came to the nest where I was.  He was much alarmed when he saw me; but recovering himself, instead of enquiring how I came thither began to quarrel with me, and asked, why I stole his goods?  “You will treat me,” replied I, “with more civility, when you know me better.  Do not be uneasy, I have diamonds enough for you and myself, more than all the other merchants together.  Whatever they have they owe to chance, but I selected for myself in the bottom of the valley those which you see in this bag.”  I had scarcely done speaking, when the other merchants came crowding about us, much astonished to see me; but they were much more surprised when I told them my story.  Yet they did not so much admire my stratagem to effect my deliverance, as my courage in putting it into execution.

They conducted me to their encampment, and there having opened my bag, they were surprised at the largeness of my diamonds, and confessed that in all the courts which they had visited they had never seen any of such size and perfection.  I prayed the merchant, who owned the nest to which I had been carried (for every merchant had his own), to take as many for his share as he pleased.  He contented himself with one, and that too the least of them; and when I pressed him to take more, without fear of doing me any injury, “No,” said he, “I am very well satisfied with this, which is valuable enough to save me the trouble of making any more voyages, and will raise as great a fortune as I desire.”

I spent the night with the merchants, to whom I related my story a second time, for the satisfaction of those who had not heard it.  I could not moderate my joy when I found myself delivered from the danger I have mentioned.  I thought myself in a dream, and could scarcely believe myself out of danger.

The merchants had thrown their pieces of meat into the valley for several days.  And each of them being satisfied with the diamonds that had fallen to his lot, we left the place the next morning, and travelled near high mountains, where there were serpents of a prodigious length, which we had the good fortune to escape.  We took shipping at the first port we reached, and touched at the isle of Roha, where the trees grow that yield camphire.  This tree is so large, and its branches so thick, that one hundred men may easily sit under its shade.  The juice, of which the camphire is made, exudes from a hole bored in the upper part of the tree, is received in a vessel, where it thickens to a consistency, and becomes what we call camphire; after the juice is thus drawn out, the tree withers and dies.

In this island is also found the rhinoceros, an animal less than the elephant, but larger than the buffalo.  It has a horn upon its nose, about a cubit in length; this horn is solid, and cleft through the middle, upon this may be seen white lines, representing the figure of a man.  The rhinoceros fights with the elephant, runs his horn into his belly, and carries him off upon his head but the blood and the fat of the elephant running into his eyes, and making him blind, he falls to the ground; and then, strange to relate! the roc comes and carries them both away in her claws, for food for her young ones.

I pass over many other things peculiar to this island, lest I should be troublesome to you.  Here I exchanged some of my diamonds for merchandize.  From hence we went to other islands, and at last, having touched at several trading towns of the continent, we landed at Bussorah, from whence I proceeded to Bagdad.  There I immediately gave large presents to the poor, and lived honourably upon the vast riches I had brought, and gained with so much fatigue.

Thus Sinbad ended the relation of the second voyage, gave Hindbad another hundred sequins, and invited him to come the next day to hear the account of the third.  The rest of the guests returned to their homes, and came again the following day at the same hour, and one may be sure the porter did not fail, having by this time almost forgotten his former poverty.  When dinner was over, Sinbad demanded attention, and gave them an account of his third voyage, as follows.

The Third Voyage.

I soon lost in the pleasures of life the remembrance of the perils I had encountered in my two former voyages; and being in the flower of my age, I grew weary of living without business, and hardening myself against the thought of any danger I might incur, went from Bagdad to Bussorah with the richest commodities of the country.  There I embarked again with some merchants.  We made a long voyage, and touched at several ports, where we carried on a considerable trade.  One day, being out in the main ocean, we were overtaken by a dreadful tempest, which drove us from our course.  The tempest continued several days, and brought us before the port of an island, which the captain was very unwilling to enter; but we were obliged to cast anchor.  When we had furled our sails, the captain told us, that this, and some other neighbouring islands, were inhabited by hairy savages, who would speedily attack us; and though they were but dwarfs, yet our misfortune was such, that we must make no resistance, for they were more in number than the locusts; and if we happened to kill one of them, they would all fall upon us and destroy us.

This account of the captain, continued Sinbad put the whole company into great consternation and we soon found that what he had told us was but too true; an innumerable multitude of frightful savages, about two feet high, covered all over with red hair, came swimming towards us, and encompassed our ship.  They spoke to us as they came near, but we understood not their language; they climbed up the sides of the ship with such agility as surprised us.  We beheld all this with dread, but without daring to defend ourselves, or to divert them from their mischievous design.  In short, they took down our sails, cut the cable, and hauling to the shore, made us all get out, and afterwards carried the ship into another island from whence they had come.  All voyagers carefully avoided the island where they left us, it being very dangerous to stay there, for a reason you shall presently hear; but we were forced to bear our affliction with patience.

We went forward into the island, where we gathered some fruits and herbs to prolong our lives as long as we could; but we expected nothing but death.  As we advanced, we perceived at a distance a vast pile of building, and made towards it.  We found it to be a palace, elegantly built, and very lofty, with a gate of ebony of two leaves, which we forced open.  We entered the court, where we saw before us a large apartment, with a porch, having on one side a heap of human bones, and on the other a vast number of roasting spits.  We trembled at this spectacle, and being fatigued with travelling, fell to the ground, seized with deadly apprehension, and lay a long time motionless.

The sun set, and whilst we were in the lamentable condition I have described, the gate of the apartment opened with a loud crash, and there came out the horrible figure of a black man, as tall as a lofty palm-tree.  He had but one eye, and that in the middle of his forehead, where it looked as red as a burning coal.  His fore-teeth were very long and sharp, and stood out of his mouth, which was as deep as that of a horse.  His upper lip hung down upon his breast.  His ears resembled those of an elephant, and covered his shoulders; and his nails were as long and crooked as the talons of the greatest birds.  At the sight of so frightful a giant, we became insensible, and lay like dead men.

At last we came to ourselves, and saw him sitting in the porch looking at us.  When he had considered us well, he advanced towards us, and laying his hand upon me, took me up by the nape of my neck, and turned round as a butcher would do a sheep’s head.  After having examined me, and perceiving me to be so lean that I had nothing but skin and bone, he let me go.  He took up all the rest one by one, and viewed them in the same manner.  The captain being the fattest, he held him with one hand, as I would do a sparrow, and thrust a spit through him; he then kindled a great fire, roasted, and ate him in his apartment for his supper.  Having finished his repast, he returned to his porch, where he lay and fell asleep, snoring louder than thunder.  He slept thus till morning.  As to ourselves, it was not possible for us to enjoy any rest, so that we passed the night in the most painful apprehension that can be imagined.  When day appeared the giant awoke, got up, went out, and left us in the palace.

When we thought him at a distance, we broke the melancholy silence we had preserved the whole of the night, and filled the palace with our lamentations and groans.  Though we were several in number, and had but one enemy, it never occurred to us to effect our deliverance by putting him to death.  This enterprize however, though difficult of execution, was the only design we ought naturally to have formed.

We thought of several other expedients, but determined upon none; and submitting ourselves to what it should please God to order concerning us, we spent the day in traversing the island, supporting ourselves with fruits and herbs as we had done the day before.  In the evening we sought for some place of shelter, but found none; so that we were forced, whether we would or not, to return to the palace.

The giant failed not to return, and supped once more upon one of our companions, after which he slept, and snored till day, and then went out and left us as before.  Our situation appeared to us so dreadful, that several of my comrades designed to throw themselves into the sea, rather than die so painful a death; and endeavoured to persuade the others to follow their example.  Upon which one of the company answered, “That we were forbidden to destroy ourselves:  but even if that were not the case, it was much more reasonable to devise some method to rid ourselves of the monster who had destined us to so horrible a fate.”

Having thought of a project for this purpose, I communicated it to my comrades, who approved it.  “Brethren,” said I, “you know there is much timber floating upon the coast; if you will be advised by me, let us make several rafts capable of bearing us, and when they are done, leave them there till we find it convenient to use them.  In the mean time, we will carry into execution the design I proposed to you for our deliverance from the giant, and if it succeed, we may remain here patiently awaiting the arrival of some ship to carry us out of this fatal island; but if it happen to miscarry, we will take to our rafts, and put to sea.  I admit that by exposing ourselves to the fury of the waves, we run a risk of losing our lives; but is it not better to be buried in the sea than in the entrails of this monster, who has already devoured two of our number?” My advice was approved, and we made rafts capable of carrying three persons on each.

We returned to the palace towards the evening, and the giant arrived shortly after.  We were forced to submit to seeing another of our comrades roasted.  But at last we revenged ourselves on the brutish giant in the following manner.  After he had finished his cursed supper, he lay down on his back, and fell asleep.  As soon as we heard him snore, according to his custom, nine of the boldest among us, and myself, took each of us a spit, and putting the points of them into the fire till they were burning hot, we thrust them into his eye all at once, and blinded him.  The pain made him break out into a frightful yell:  he started up, and stretched out his hands, in order to sacrifice some of us to his rage:  but we ran to such places as he could not reach; and after having sought for us in vain, he groped for the gate, and went out, howling in agony.

We quitted the palace after the giant, and came to the shore, where we had left our rafts, and put them immediately to sea.  We waited till day, in order to get upon them, in case the giant should come towards us with any guide of his own species, but we hoped if he did not appear by sun-rising, and gave over his howling, which we still heard, that he would prove to be dead; and if that happened to be the case, we resolved to stay in that island, and not to risk our lives upon the rafts:  but day had scarcely appeared, when we perceived our cruel enemy, accompanied with two others almost of the same size, leading him; and a great number more coming before him at a quick pace.

We did not hesitate to take to our rafts, and put to sea with all the speed we could.  The giants, who perceived this, took up great stones, and running to the shore, entered the water up to the middle, and threw so exactly, that they sunk all the rafts but that I was upon; and all my companions, except the two with me, were drowned.  We rowed with all our might, and got out of the reach of the giants.  But when we got out to sea, we were exposed to the mercy of the waves and winds, and tossed about, sometimes on one side, and sometimes on another, and spent that night and the following day under the most painful uncertainty as to our fate; but next morning we had the good fortune to be thrown upon an island, where we landed with much joy.  We found excellent fruit, which afforded us great relief, and recruited our strength.

At night we went to sleep on the sea-shore but were awakened by the noise of a serpent of surprising length and thickness, whose scales made a rustling noise as he wound himself along.  It swallowed up one of my comrades, notwithstanding his loud cries, and the efforts he made to extricate himself from it; dashing him several times against the ground, it crushed him, and we could hear it gnaw and tear the poor wretch’s bones, though we had fled to a considerable distance.  The following day, to our great terror, we saw the serpent again, when I exclaimed, “O heaven, to what dangers are we exposed!  We rejoiced yesterday at having escaped from the cruelty of a giant and the rage of the waves, now are we fallen into another danger equally dreadful.”

As we walked about, we saw a large tall tree upon which we designed to pass the following night, for our security; and having satisfied our hunger with fruit, we mounted it according.  Shortly after, the serpent came hissing to the foot of the tree; raised himself up against the trunk of it, and meeting with my comrade, who sat lower than I, swallowed him at once, and went off.

I remained upon the tree till it was day, and then came down, more like a dead man than one alive, expecting the same fate with my two companions.  This filled me with horror, and I advanced some steps to throw myself into the sea; but the natural love of life prompting us to prolong it as long as we can, I withstood this dictate of despair, and submitted myself to the will of God, who disposes of our lives at his pleasure.

In the mean time I collected together a great quantity of small wood, brambles, and dry thorns, and making them up into faggots, made a wide circle with them round the tree, and also tied some of them to the branches over my head.  Having done this, when the evening came, I shut myself up within this circle, with the melancholy satisfaction, that I had neglected nothing which could preserve me from the cruel destiny with which I was threatened.  The serpent failed not to come at the usual hour, and went round the tree, seeking for an opportunity to devour me, but was prevented by the rampart I had made; so that he lay till day, like a cat watching in vain for a mouse that has fortunately reached a place of safety.  When day appeared, he retired, but I dared not to leave my fort until the sun arose.

I felt so much fatigued by the labour to which it had put me, and suffered so much from his poisonous breath, that death seemed more eligible to me than the horrors of such a state.  I came down from the tree, and, not thinking of the resignation I had the preceding day resolved to exercise, I ran towards the sea, with a design to throw myself into it.

God took compassion on my hopeless state; for just as I was going to throw myself into the sea, I perceived a ship at a considerable distance.  I called as loud as I could, and taking the linen from my turban, displayed it, that they might observe me.  This had the desired effect; the crew perceived me, and the captain sent his boat for me.  As soon as I came on board, the merchants and seamen flocked about me, to know how I came into that desert island; and after I had related to them all that had befallen me, the oldest among them said to me, they had several times heard of the giants that dwelt in that island, that they were cannibals, and ate men raw as well as roasted; and as to the serpents, they added, that there were abundance in the island that hid themselves by day, and came abroad by night.  After having testified their joy at my escaping so many dangers, they brought me the best of their provisions; and the captain, seeing that I was in rags, was so generous as to give me one of his own suits.  We continued at sea for some time, touched at several islands, and at last landed at that of Salabat, where sandal wood is obtained, which is of great use in medicine.  We entered the port, and came to anchor.  The merchants began to unload their goods, in order to sell or exchange them.  In the mean time, the captain came to me, and said, “Brother, I have here some goods that belonged to a merchant, who sailed some time on board this ship, and he being dead, I design to dispose of them for the benefit of his heirs, when I find who they are.”  The bales he spoke of lay on the deck, and shewing them to me, he said, “There are the goods; I hope you will take care to sell them, and you shall have factorage.”  I thanked him for thus affording me an opportunity of employing myself, because I hated to be idle.

The clerk of the ship took an account of all the bales, with the names of the merchants to whom they belonged.  And when he asked the captain in whose name he should enter those he had given me the charge of; “Enter them,” said the captain, “in the name of Sinbad.”  I could not hear myself named without some emotion; and looking stedfastly on the captain, I knew him to be the person who, in my second voyage, had left me in the island where I fell asleep, and sailed without me, or sending to see for me.  But I could not recollect him at first, he was so much altered since I had seen him.

I was not surprised that he, believing me to be dead, did not recognize me.  “Captain,” said I, “was the merchant’s name, to whom those bales belonged, Sinbad?” “Yes,” replied he, “that was his name; he came from Bagdad, and embarked on board my ship at Bussorah.  One day, when we landed at an island to take in water and other refreshments, I knew not by what mistake, I sailed without observing that he did not re-embark with us; neither I nor the merchants perceived it till four hours after.  We had the wind in our stern, and so fresh a gale, that it was not then possible for us to tack about for him.”  “You believe him then to be dead?” said I.  “Certainly,” answered he.  “No, captain,” I resumed; “look at me, and you may know that I am Sinbad, whom you left in that desert island.”

The captain, continued Sinbad, having considered me attentively, recognized me.  “God be praised,” said he, embracing me; “I rejoice that fortune has rectified my fault.  There are your goods, which I always took care to preserve.”  I took them from him, and made him the acknowledgments to which he was entitled.

From the isle of Salabat, we went to another, where I furnished myself with cloves, cinnamon, and other spices.  As we sailed from this island, we saw a tortoise twenty cubits in length and breadth.  We observed also an amphibious animal like a cow, which gave milk; its skin is so hard, that they usually make bucklers of it.  I saw another, which had the shape and colour of a camel.

In short, after a long voyage, I arrived at Bussorah, and from thence returned to Bagdad, with so much wealth that I knew not its extent.  I gave a great deal to the poor, and bought another considerable estate in addition to what I had already.

Thus Sinbad finished the history of his third voyage; gave another hundred sequins to Hindbad, invited him to dinner again the next day, to hear the story of his fourth voyage.  Hindbad and the company retired; and on the following day, when they returned, Sinbad after dinner continued the relation of his adventures.

The Fourth Voyage.

The pleasures and amusements which I enjoyed after my third voyage had not charms sufficient to divert me from another.  My passion for trade, and my love of novelty, again prevailed.  I therefore settled my affairs, and having provided a stock of goods fit for the traffic I designed to engage in, I set out on my journey.  I took the route of Persia, travelled over several provinces, and then arrived at a port, where I embarked.  We hoisted our sails, and touched at several ports of the continent, and some of the eastern islands, and put out to sea:  we were overtaken by such a sudden gust of wind, as obliged the captain to lower his yards, and take all other necessary precautions to prevent the danger that threatened us.  But all was in vain our endeavours had no effect; the sails were split in a thousand pieces, and the ship was stranded; several of the merchants and seamen were drowned and the cargo was lost.

I had the good fortune, with several of the merchants and mariners, to get upon some planks, and we were carried by the current to an island which lay before us.  There we found fruit and spring water, which preserved our lives.  We staid all night near the place where we had been cast ashore, without consulting what we should do; our misfortune had so much dispirited us that we could not deliberate.

Next morning, as soon as the sun was up, we walked from the shore, and advancing into the island, saw some houses, which we approached.  As soon as we drew near, we were encompassed by a great number of negroes, who seized us, shared us among them, and carried us to their respective habitations.

I, and five of my comrades, were carried to one place; here they made us sit down, and gave us a certain herb, which they made signs to us to eat.  My comrades not taking notice that the blacks ate none of it themselves, thought only of satisfying their hunger, and ate with greediness.  But I, suspecting some trick, would not so much as taste it, which happened well for me; for in little time after, I perceived my companions had lost their senses, and that when they spoke to me, they knew not what they said.

The negroes fed us afterwards with rice, prepared with oil of cocoa-nuts; and my comrades, who had lost their reason, ate of it greedily.  I also partook of it, but very sparingly.  They gave us that herb at first on purpose to deprive us of our senses, that we might not be aware of the sad destiny prepared for us; and they supplied us with rice to fatten us; for, being cannibals, their design was to eat us as soon as we grew fat.  This accordingly happened, for they devoured my comrades, who were not sensible of their condition; but my senses being entire, you may easily guess that instead of growing fat, as the rest did, I grew leaner every day.  The fear of death under which I laboured, turned all my food into poison.  I fell into a languishing distemper, which proved my safety; for the negroes, having killed and eaten my companions, seeing me to be withered, lean, and sick, deferred my death.

Meanwhile I had much liberty, so that scarcely any notice was taken of what I did, and this gave me an opportunity one day to get at a distance from the houses, and to make my escape.  An old man, who saw me, and suspected my design, called to me as loud as he could to return; but instead of obeying him, I redoubled my speed, and quickly got out of sight.  At that time there was none but the old man about the houses, the rest being abroad, and not to return till night, which was usual with them.  Therefore, being sure that they could not arrive time enough to pursue me, I went on till night, when I stopped to rest a little, and to eat some of the provisions I had secured; but I speedily set forward again, and travelled seven days, avoiding those places which seemed to be inhabited, and lived for the most part upon cocoa-nuts, which served me both for meat and drink.  On the eighth day I came near the sea, and saw some white people like myself, gathering pepper, of which there was great plenty in that place.  This I took to be a good omen, and went to them without any scruple.

The people who gathered pepper came to meet me as soon as they saw me, and asked me in Arabic who I was, and whence I came?  I was overjoyed to hear them speak in my own language, and satisfied their curiosity, by giving them an account of my shipwreck, and how I fell into the hands of the negroes.  “Those negroes,” replied they, “eat men, and by what miracle did you escape their cruelty?” I related to them the circumstances I have just mentioned, at which they were wonderfully surprised.

I staid with them till they had gathered their quantity of pepper, and then sailed with them to the island from whence they had come.  They presented me to their king, who was a good prince.  He had the patience to hear the relation of my adventures, which surprised him; and he afterwards gave me clothes, and commanded care to be taken of me.

The island was very well peopled, plentiful in everything, and the capital a place of great trade.  This agreeable retreat was very comfortable to me after my misfortunes, and the kindness of this generous prince completed my satisfaction.  In a word, there was not a person more in favour with him than myself; and, consequently, every man in court and city sought to oblige me; so that in a very little time I was looked upon rather as a native than a stranger.

I observed one thing, which to me appeared very extraordinary.  All the people, the king himself not excepted, rode their horses without saddle, bridle, or stirrups.  This made me one day take the liberty to ask the king how it came to pass?  His majesty answered, that I talked to him of things which nobody knew the use of in his dominions.

I went immediately to a workman, and gave him a model for making the stock of a saddle.  When that was done, I covered it myself with velvet and leather, and embroidered it with gold.  I afterwards went to a smith, who made me a bit, according to the pattern I shewed him, and also some stirrups.  When I had all things completed, I presented them to the king, and put them upon one of his horses.  His majesty mounted immediately, and was so pleased with them, that he testified his satisfaction by large presents.  I could not avoid making several others for the ministers and principal officers of his household, who all of them made me presents that enriched me in a little time.  I also made some for the people of best quality in the city, which gained me great reputation and regard.

As I paid my court very constantly to the king, he said to me one day, “Sinbad, I love thee; and all my subjects who know thee, treat thee according to my example.  I have one thing to demand of thee, which thou must grant.”  “Sir,” answered I, “there is nothing but I will do, as a mark of my obedience to your majesty, whose power over me is absolute.”  “I have a mind thou shouldst marry,” replied he, “that so thou mayst stay in my dominions, and think no more of thy own country.”  I durst not resist the prince’s will, and he gave me one of the ladies of his court, noble, beautiful, and rich.  The ceremonies of marriage being over, I went and dwelt with my wife, and for some time we lived together in perfect harmony.  I was not, however, satisfied with my banishment, therefore designed to make my escape the first opportunity, and to return to Bagdad; which my present settlement, how advantageous soever, could not make me forget.

At this time the wife of one of my neighbours, with whom I had contrasted a very strict friendship, fell sick, and died.  I went to see and comfort him in his affliction, and finding him absorbed in sorrow, I said to him as soon as I saw him, “God preserve you and grant you a long life.”  “Alas!” replied he, “how do you think I should obtain the favour you wish me?  I have not above an hour to live.”  “Pray,” said I, “do not entertain such a melancholy thought; I hope I shall enjoy your company many years.”  “I wish you,” he replied, “a long life; but my days are at an end, for I must be buried this day with my wife.  This is a law which our ancestors established in this island, and it is always observed inviolably.  The living husband is interred with the dead wife, and the living wife with the dead husband.  Nothing can save me; every one must submit to this law.”

While he was giving me an account of this barbarous custom, the very relation of which chilled my blood, his kindred, friends, and neighbours, came in a body to assist at the funeral.  They dressed the corpse of the woman in her richest apparel, and all her jewels, as if it had been her wedding-day; then they placed her on an open coffin, and began their march to the place of burial.  The husband walked at the head of the company, and followed the corpse.  They proceeded to a high mountain, and when they had reached the place of their destination, they took up a large stone, which covered the mouth of a deep pit, and let down the corpse with all its apparel and jewels.  Then the husband, embracing his kindred and friends, suffered himself to be put into another open coffin without resistance, with a pot of water, and seven small loaves, and was let down in the same manner.  The mountain was of considerable length, and extended along the sea-shore, and the pit was very deep.  The ceremony being over, the aperture was again covered with the stone, and the company returned.

It is needless for me to tell you that I was a most melancholy spectator this funeral, while the rest were scarcely moved, the custom was to them so familiar.  I could not forbear communicating to the king my sentiment respecting the practice:  “Sir,” I said, “I cannot but feel astonished at the strange usage observed in this country, of burying the living with the dead.  I have been a great traveller, and seen many countries, but never heard of so cruel a law.”  “What do you mean, Sinbad?” replied the king:  “it is a common law.  I shall be interred with the queen, my wife, if she die first.”  “But, Sir,” said I, “may I presume to ask your majesty, if strangers be obliged to observe this law?” “Without doubt,” returned the king (smiling at the occasion of my question), “they are not exempted, if they be married in this island.”

I returned home much depressed by this answer; for the fear of my wife’s dying first, and that I should be interred alive with her, occasioned me very uneasy reflections.  But there was no remedy; I must have patience, and submit to the will of God.  I trembled however at every little indisposition of my wife.  Alas! in a little time my fears were realized, for she fell sick, and died.

Judge of my sorrow; to be interred alive, seemed to me as deplorable a termination of life as to be devoured by cannibals.  It was necessary, however, to submit.  The king and all his court expressed their wish to honour the funeral with their presence, and the most considerable people of the city did the same.  When all was ready for the ceremony, the corpse was put into a coffin, with all her jewels and her most magnificent apparel.  The procession began, and as second actor in this doleful tragedy, I went next the corpse, with my eyes full of tears, bewailing my deplorable fate.  Before we reached the mountain, I made an attempt to affect the minds of the spectators:  I addressed myself to the king first, and then to all those that were round me; bowing before them to the earth, and kissing the border of their garments, I prayed them to have compassion upon me.  “Consider,” said I, “that I am a stranger, and ought not to be subject to this rigorous law, and that I have another wife and children in my own country.”  Although I spoke in the most pathetic manner, no one was moved by my address; on the contrary, they ridiculed my dread of death as cowardly, made haste to let my wife’s corpse into the pit, and lowered me down the next moment in an open coffin, with full of water and seven loaves.  In short, the fatal ceremony being performed, they covered over the mouth of the pit, notwithstanding my grief and piteous lamentations.

As I approached the bottom, I discovered by the aid of the little light that came from above the nature of this subterranean place, it seemed an endless cavern, and might be about fifty fathom deep.  I was annoyed by an insufferable stench proceeding from the multitude of bodies which I saw on the right and left; nay, I fancied that I heard some of them sigh out their last.  However, when I got down, I immediately left my coffin, and getting at a distance from the bodies, held my nose, and lay down upon the ground, where I stayed a considerable time, bathed in tears.  At last, reflecting on my melancholy case, “It is true,” said I, “that God disposes all things according to the degrees of his providence; but, unhappy Sinbad, hast thou any but thyself to blame that thou art brought to die so strange a death?  Would to God thou hadst perished in some of those tempests which thou hast escaped! then thy death had not been so lingering, and so terrible in all its circumstances.  But thou hast drawn all this upon thyself by thy inordinate avarice.  Ah, unfortunate wretch! shouldst thou not rather have remained at home, and quietly enjoyed the fruits of thy labour?”

Such were the vain complaints with which I filled the cave, beating my head and breast out of rage and despair, and abandoning myself to the most afflicting thoughts.  Nevertheless, I must tell you, that instead of calling death to my assistance in that miserable condition, I felt still an inclination to live, and to do all I could to prolong my days.  I went groping about, with my nose stopped, for the bread and water that was in my coffin, and took some of it.  Though the darkness of the cave was so great that I could not distinguish day and night, yet I always found my coffin again, and the cave seemed to be more spacious and fuller of bodies than it had appeared to be at first.  I lived for some days upon my bread and water, which being all spent, I at last prepared for death.

As I was thinking of death, I heard the stone lifted up from the mouth of the cave, and immediately the corpse of a man was let down When reduced to necessity, it is natural to come to extreme resolutions.  While they let down the woman I approached the place where her coffin was to be put, and as soon as I perceived they were again covering the mouth of the cave, gave the unfortunate wretch two or three violent blows over the head, with a large bone; which stunned, or, to say the truth, killed her.  I committed this inhuman action merely for the sake of the bread and water that was in her coffin, and thus I had provision for some days more.  When that was spent, they letdown another dead woman, and a living man; I killed the man in the same manner, and, as there was then a sort of mortality in the town, by continuing this practice I did not want for provisions.

One day after I had dispatched another woman, I heard something tread, and breathing or panting as it walked.  I advanced towards that side from whence I heard the noise, and on my approach the creature puffed and blew harder, as if running away from me.  I followed the noise, and the thing seemed to stop sometimes, but always fled and blew as I approached.  I pursued it for a considerable time, till at last I perceived a light, resembling a star; I went on, sometimes lost sight of it, but always found it again, and at last discovered that it came through a hole in the rock, large enough to admit a man.

Upon this, I stopped some time to rest, being much fatigued with the rapidity of my progress:  afterwards coming up to the hole, I got through, and found myself upon the sea shore.  I leave you to guess the excess of my joy:  it was such, that I could scarcely persuade myself that the whole was not a dream.

But when I was recovered from my surprise, and convinced of the reality of my escape, I perceived what I had followed to be a creature which came out of the sea, and was accustomed to enter the cavern and feed upon the bodies of the dead.

I examined the mountain, and found it to be situated betwixt the sea and the town, but without any passage to or communication with the latter; the rocks on the sea side being high and perpendicularly steep.  I prostrated myself on the shore to thank God for this mercy, and afterwards entered the cave again to fetch bread and water, which I ate by daylight with a better appetite than I had done since my interment in the dark cavern.

I returned thither a second time, and groped among the coffins for all the diamonds, rubies, pearls, gold bracelets, and rich stuffs I could find; these I brought to the shore, and tying them up neatly into bales, with the cords that let down the coffins, I laid them together upon the beach, waiting till some ship might appear, without fear of rain, for it was then the dry season.

After two or three days, I perceived a ship just come out of the harbour, making for the place where I was.  I made a sign with the linen of my turban, and called to the crew as loud as I could.  They heard me, and sent a boat to bring me on board, when they asked by what misfortune I came thither; I told them that I had suffered shipwreck two days before, and made shift to get ashore with the goods they saw.  It was fortunate for me that these people did not consider the place where I was, nor enquire into the probability of what I told them; but without hesitation took me on board with my goods.  When I came to the ship, the captain was so well pleased to have saved me, and so much taken up with his own affairs, that he also took the story of my pretended shipwreck upon trust, and generously refused some jewels which I offered him.

We passed by several islands, and among others that called the isle of Bells, about ten days’ sail from Serendib, with a regular wind, and six from that of Kela, where we landed.  This island produces lead mines, Indian canes, and excellent camphire.

The king of the isle of Kela is very rich and powerful, and the isle of Bells, which is about two days journey in extent, is also subject to him.  The inhabitants are so barbarous that they still eat human flesh.  After we had finished our traffic in that island, we put to sea again, and touched at several other ports; at last I arrived happily at Bagdad with infinite riches, of which it is needless to trouble you with the detail.  Out of gratitude to God for his mercies, I contributed liberally towards the support of several mosques, and the subsistence of the poor, gave myself up to the society of my kindred and friends, enjoying myself with them in festivities and amusements.

Here Sinbad finished the relation of his fourth voyage, which appeared more surprising to the company than the three former.  He made a new present of one hundred sequins to Hindbad, whom he requested to return with the rest next day at the same hour to dine with him, and hear the story of his fifth voyage.  Hindbad and the other guests took their leave and retired.  Next morning when they all met, they sat down at table, and when dinner was over, Sinbad began the relation of his fifth voyage as follows.

The Fifth Voyage.

The pleasures I enjoyed had again charms enough to make me forget all the troubles and calamities I had undergone, but could not cure me of my inclination to make new voyages.  I therefore bought goods, departed with them for the best sea-port; and there, that I might not be obliged to depend upon a captain, but have a ship at my own command, I remained till one was built on purpose, at my own charge.  When the ship was ready, I went on board with my goods; but not having enough to load her, I agreed to take with me several merchants of different nations with their merchandize.

We sailed with the first fair wind, and after a long navigation the first place we touched at was a desert island, where we found an egg of a roe, equal in size to that I formerly mentioned.  There was a young roc it just ready to be hatched, and its bill had begun to appear.

The merchants whom I had taken on board, and who landed with me, broke the egg with hatchets, and made a hole in it, pulled out the young roc piecemeal, and roasted it.  I had earnestly intreated them not to meddle with the egg, but they would not listen to me.

Scarcely had they finished their repast, when there appeared in the air at a considerable distance from us two great clouds.  The captain whom I had hired to navigate my ship, knowing by experience what they meant, said they were the male and female roc that belonged to the young one, and pressed us to re-embark with all speed, to prevent the misfortune which he saw would otherwise befall us.  We hastened on board, and set sail with all possible expedition.

In the mean time, the two roes approached with a frightful noise, which they redoubled when they saw the egg broken, and their young one gone.  They flew back in the direction they had come, and disappeared for some time, while we made all the sail we could to endeavour to prevent that which unhappily befell us.

They soon returned, and we observed that each of them carried between its talons stones, or rather rocks, of a monstrous size.  When they came directly over my ship, they hovered, and one of them let fall a stone, but by the dexterity of the steersman it missed us, and falling into the sea, divided the water so that we could almost see the bottom.  The other roe, to our misfortune, threw his messy burden so exactly upon the middle of the ship, as to split it into a thousand pieces.  The mariners and passengers were all crushed to death, or sunk.  I myself was of the number of the latter; but as I came up again, I fortunately caught hold of a piece of the wreck, and swimming sometimes with one hand, and sometimes with the other, but always holding fast my board, the wind and the tide favouring me, I came to an island, whose shore was very steep.  I overcame that difficulty, however, and got ashore.

I sat down upon the grass, to recover myself from my fatigue, after which I went into the island to explore it.  It seemed to be a delicious garden.  I found trees everywhere, some of them bearing green, and others ripe fruits, and streams of fresh pure water running in pleasant meanders.  I ate of the fruits, which I found excellent; and drank of the water, which was very light and good.

When night closed in, I lay down upon the grass in a convenient spot, but could not sleep an hour at a time, my mind being apprehensive of danger.  I spent best part of the night in alarm, and reproached myself for my imprudence in not remaining at home, rather than undertaking this last voyage.  These reflections carried me so far, that I began to form a design against my life; but daylight dispersed these melancholy thoughts.  I got up, and walked among the trees, but not without some fears.

When I was a little advanced into the island, I saw an old man, who appeared very weak and infirm.  He was sitting on the bank of a stream, and at first I took him to be one who had been shipwrecked like myself.  I went towards him and saluted him, but he only slightly bowed his head.  I asked him why he sat so still, but instead of answering me, he made a sign for me to take him upon my back, and carry him over the brook, signifying that it was to gather fruit.

I believed him really to stand in need of my assistance, took him upon my back, and having carried him over, bade him get down, and for that end stooped, that he might get off with ease; but instead of doing so (which I laugh at every time I think of it) the old man, who to me appeared quite decrepit, clasped his legs nimbly about my neck, when I perceived his skin to resemble that of a cow.  He sat astride upon my shoulders, and held my throat so tight, that I thought he would have strangled me, the apprehension of which make me swoon and fall down.

Notwithstanding my fainting, the ill-natured old fellow kept fast about my neck, but opened his legs a little to give me time to recover my breath.  When I had done so, he thrust one of his feet against my stomach, and struck me so rudely on the side with the other, that he forced me to rise up against my will.  Having arisen, he made me walk under the trees, and forced me now and then to stop, to gather and eat fruit such as we found.  He never left me all day, and when I lay down to rest at night, laid himself down with me, holding always fast about my neck.  Every morning he pushed me to make me awake, and afterwards obliged me to get up and walk, and pressed me with his feet.  You may judge then, gentlemen, what trouble I was in, to be loaded with such a burden of which I could not get rid.

One day I found in my way several dry calebashes that had fallen from a tree.  I took a large one, and after cleaning it, pressed into it some juice of grapes, which abounded in the island; having filled the calebash, I put it by in a convenient place, and going thither again some days after, I tasted it, and found the wine so good, that it soon made me forget my sorrow, gave me new vigour, and so exhilarated my spirits, that I began to sing and dance as I walked along.

The old man, perceiving the effect which this liquor had upon me, and that I carried him with more ease than before, made me a sign to give him some of it.  I handed him the calebash, and the liquor pleasing his palate, he drank it all off.  There being a considerable quantity of it, he became drunk immediately, and the fumes getting up into his head, he began to sing after his manner, and to dance with his breech upon my shoulders.  His jolting made him vomit, and he loosened his legs from about me by degrees.  Finding that he did not press me as before, I threw him upon the ground, where he lay without motion; I then took up a great stone, and crushed his head to pieces.

I was extremely glad to be thus freed for ever from this troublesome fellow.  I now walked towards the beach, where I met the crew of a ship that had cast anchor, to take in water.  They were surprised to see me, but more so at hearing the particulars of my adventures.  “You fell,” said they, “into the hands of the old man of the sea, and are the first who ever escaped strangling by his malicious tricks.  He never quitted those he had once made himself master of, till he had destroyed them, and he has made this island notorious by the number of men he has slain; so that the merchants and mariners who landed upon it, durst not advance into the island but in numbers at a time.”

After having informed me of these things, they carried me with them to the ship; the captain received me with great kindness, when they told him what had befallen me.  He put out again to sea, and after some days’ sail, we arrived at the harbour of a great city, the houses of which were built with hewn stone.

One of the merchants who had taken me into his friendship invited me to go along with him, and carried me to a place appointed for the accommodation of foreign merchants.  He gave me a large bag, and having recommended me to some people of the town, who used to gather cocoa-nuts, desired them to take me with them.  “Go,” said he, “follow them, and act as you see them do, but do not separate from them, otherwise you may endanger your life.”  Having thus spoken, he gave me provisions for the journey, and I went with them.

We came to a thick forest of cocoa-trees, very lofty, with trunks so smooth that it was not possible to climb to the branches that bore the fruit.  When we entered the forest we saw a great number of apes of several sizes, who fled as soon as they perceived us, and climbed up to the top of the trees with surprising swiftness.

The merchants with whom I was, gathered stones and threw them at the apes on the trees.  I did the same, and the apes out of revenge threw cocoa-nuts at us so fast, and with such gestures, as sufficiently testified their anger and resentment.  We gathered up the cocoa-nuts, and from time to time threw stones to provoke the apes; so that by this stratagem we filled our bags with cocoa-nuts, which it had been impossible otherwise to have done.

When we had gathered our number, we returned to the city, where the merchant, who had sent me to the forest, gave me the value of the cocoas I brought:  “Go on,” said he, “and do the like every day, until you have got money enough to carry you home.”  I thanked him for his advice, and gradually collected as many cocoa-nuts as produced me a considerable sum.

The vessel in which I had come sailed with some merchants, who loaded her with cocoa-nuts.  I expected the arrival of another, which anchored soon after for the like loading.  I embarked in her all the cocoa-nuts I had, and when she was ready to sail, took leave of the merchant who had been so kind to me; but he could not embark with me, because he had not finished his business at the port.

We sailed towards the islands, where pepper grows in great plenty.  From thence we went to the isle of Comari, where the best species of wood of aloes grows, and whose inhabitants have made it an inviolable law to themselves to drink no wine, and suffer no place of debauch.  I exchanged my cocoa in those two islands for pepper and wood of aloes, and went with other merchants a pearl-fishing.  I hired divers, who brought me up some that were very large and pure.  I embarked in a vessel that happily arrived at Bussorah; from thence I returned to Bagdad, where I made vast sums of my pepper, wood of aloes, and pearls.  I gave the tenth of my gains in alms, as I had done upon my return from my other voyages, and endeavoured to dissipate my fatigues by amusements of different kinds.

When Sinbad had finished his story, he ordered one hundred sequins to be given to Hindbad, who retired with the other guests; but next morning the same company returned to dine with rich Sinbad; who, after having treated them as formerly, requested their attention, and gave the following account of his sixth voyage.

The Sixth Voyage.

Gentlemen, you long without doubt to know, how, after having been shipwrecked five times, and escaped so many dangers, I could resolve again to tempt fortune, and expose myself to new hardships?  I am, myself, astonished at my conduct when I reflect upon it, and must certainly have been actuated by my destiny.  But be that as it may, after a year’s rest I prepared for a sixth voyage, notwithstanding the intreaties of my kindred and friends, who did all in their power to dissuade me.

Instead of taking my way by the Persian gulf, I travelled once more through several provinces of Persia and the Indies, and arrived at a sea-port, where I embarked in a ship, the captain of which was bound on a long voyage.  It was long indeed, and at the same time so unfortunate, that the captain and pilot lost their course.  They however at last discovered where they were, but we had no reason to rejoice at the circumstance.  Suddenly we saw the captain quit his post, uttering loud lamentations.  He threw off his turban, pulled his beard, and beat his head like a madman.  We asked him the reason, and he answered, that he was in the most dangerous place in all the ocean.  “A rapid current carries the ship along with it, and we shall all perish in less than a quarter of an hour.  Pray to God to deliver us from this peril; we cannot escape, if he do not take pity on us.”  At these words he ordered the sails to be lowered; but all the ropes broke, and the ship was carried by the current to the foot of an inaccessible mountain, where she struck and went to pieces, yet in such a manner that we saved our lives, our provisions, and the best of our goods.

This being over, the captain said to us, “God has done what pleased him.  Each of us may dig his grave, and bid the world adieu; for we are all in so fatal a place, that none shipwrecked here ever returned to their homes.”  His discourse afflicted us sensibly, and we embraced each other, bewailing our deplorable lot.

The mountain at the foot of which we were wrecked formed part of the coast of a very large island.  It was covered with wrecks, and from the vast number of human bones we saw everywhere, and which filled us with horror, we concluded that multitudes of people had perished there.  It is also incredible what a quantity of goods and riches we found cast ashore.  All these objects served only to augment our despair.  In all other places, rivers run from their channels into the sea, but here a river of fresh water runs out of the sea into a dark cavern, whose entrance is very high and spacious.  What is most remarkable in this place is, that the stones of the mountain are of crystal, rubies, or other precious stones.  Here is also a sort of fountain of pitch or bitumen, that runs into the sea, which the fish swallow, and evacuate soon afterwards, turned into ambergris:  and this the waves throw up on the beach in great quantities.  Trees also grow here, most of which are wood of aloes, equal in goodness to those of Comari.

To finish the description of this place, which may well be called a gulf, since nothing ever returns from it, it is not possible for ships to get off when once they approach within a certain distance.  If they be driven thither by a wind from the sea, the wind and the current impel them; and if they come into it when a land-wind blows, which might seem to favour their getting out again, the height of the mountain stops the wind, and occasions a calm, so that the force of the current carries them ashore:  and what completes the misfortune is, that there is no possibility of ascending the mountain, or of escaping by sea.

We continued upon the shore in a state of despair, and expected death every day.  At first we divided our provisions as equally as we could, and thus every one lived a longer or shorter time, according to his temperance, and the use he made of his provisions.

Those who died first were interred by the survivors, and I paid the last duty to all my companions:  nor are you to wonder at this; for besides that I husbanded the provision that fell to my share better than they, I had some of my own which I did not share with my comrades; yet when I buried the last, I had so little remaining, that I thought I could not long survive:  I dug a grave, resolving to lie down in it, because there was no one left to inter me.  I must confess to you at the same time, that while I was thus employed, I could not but reproach myself as the cause of my own ruin, and repented that I had ever undertaken this last voyage.  Nor did I stop at reflections only, but had well nigh hastened my own death, and began to tear my hands with my teeth.

But it pleased God once more to take compassion on me, and put it in my mind to go to the bank of the river which ran into the great cavern.  Considering its probable course with great attention, I said to myself, “This river, which runs thus under ground, must somewhere have an issue.  If I make a raft, and leave myself to the current, it will convey me to some inhabited country, or I shall perish.  If I be drowned, I lose nothing, but only change one kind of death for another; and if I get out of this fatal place, I shall not only avoid the sad fate of my comrades, but perhaps find some new occasion of enriching myself.  Who knows but fortune waits, upon my getting off this dangerous shelf, to compensate my shipwreck with usury.”

I immediately went to work upon large pieces of timber and cables, for I had choice of them, and tied them together so strongly, that I soon made a very solid raft.  When I had finished, I loaded it with some bulses of rubies, emeralds, ambergris, rock-crystal, and bales of rich stuffs.  Having balanced my cargo exactly, and fastened it well to the raft, I went on board with two oars that I had made, and leaving it to the course of the river, resigned myself to the will of God.

As soon as I entered the cavern, I lost all light, and the stream carried me I knew not whither.  Thus I floated some days in perfect darkness, and once found the arch so low, that it very nearly touched my head, which made me cautious afterwards to avoid the like danger.  All this while I ate nothing but what was just necessary to support nature; yet, notwithstanding my frugality, all my provisions were spent.  Then a pleasing stupor seized upon me.  I cannot tell how long it continued; but when I revived, I was surprised to find myself in an extensive plain on the brink of a river, where my raft was tied, amidst a great number of negroes.  I got up as soon as I saw them, and saluted them.  They spoke to me, but I did not understand their language.  I was so transported with joy, that I knew not whether I was asleep or awake; but being persuaded that I was not asleep, I recited the following words in Arabic aloud:  “Call upon the Almighty, he will help thee; thou needest not perplex thyself about any thing else:  shut thy eyes, and while thou art asleep, God will change thy bad fortune into good.”

One of the blacks, who understood Arabic, hearing me speak thus, came towards me, and said, “Brother, be not surprised to see us, we are inhabitants of this country, and came hither to-day to water our fields, by digging little canals from this river, which comes out of the neighbouring mountain.  We observed something floating upon the water, went to see what it was, and, perceiving your raft, one of us swam into the river, and brought it thither, where we fastened it, as you see, until you should awake.  Pray tell us your history, for it must be extraordinary; how did you venture yourself into this river, and whence did you come?” “I begged of them first to give me something to eat, and then I would satisfy their curiosity.  They gave me several sorts of food, and when I had satisfied my hunger, I related all that had befallen me, which they listened to with attentive surprise.  As soon as I had finished, they told me, by the person who spoke Arabic and interpreted to them what I said, that it was one of the most wonderful stories they had ever heard, and that I must go along with them, and tell it their king myself; it being too extraordinary to be related by any other than the person to whom the events had happened.  I assured them that I was ready to do whatever they pleased.”

They immediately sent for a horse, which was brought in a little time; and having helped me to mount, some of them walked before to shew the way, while the rest took my raft and cargo and followed.

We marched till we came to the capital of Serendib, for it was in that island I had landed.  The blacks presented me to their king; I approached his throne, and saluted him as I used to do the kings of the Indies; that is to say, I prostrated myself at his feet.  The prince ordered me to rise, received me with an obliging air, and made me sit down near him.  He first asked me my name, and I answered, “People call me Sinbad the voyager, because of the many voyages I have undertaken, and I am a citizen of Bagdad.”  “But,” resumed he, “how came you into my dominions, and from whence came you last?”

I concealed nothing from the king; I related to him all that I have told you, and his majesty was so surprised and pleased, that he commanded my adventures to be written in letters of gold, and laid up in the archives of his kingdom.  At last my raft was brought in, and the bales opened in his presence; he admired the quantity of wood of aloes and ambergris, but, above all, the rubies and emeralds, for he had none in his treasury that equalled them.

Observing that he looked on my jewels with pleasure, and viewed the most remarkable among them one after another, I fell prostrate at his feet, and took the liberty to say to him, “Sir, not only my person is at your majesty’s service, but the cargo of the raft, and I would beg of you to dispose of it as your own.”  He answered me with a smile, “Sinbad, I will take care not to covet any thing of yours, or to take any thing from you that God has given you; far from lessening your wealth, I design to augment it, and will not let you quit my dominions without marks of my liberality.”  All the answer I returned were prayers for the prosperity of that nobly minded prince, and commendations of his generosity and bounty.  He charged one of his officers to take care of me, and ordered people to serve me at his own expence.  The officer was very faithful in the execution of his commission, and caused all the goods to be carried to the lodgings provided for me.

I went every day at a set hour to make my court to the king, and spent the rest of my time in viewing the city, and what was most worthy of notice.

The isle of Serendib is situated just under the equinoctial line; so that the days and nights there are always of twelve hours each, and the island is eighty parasangs in length, and as many in breadth.

The capital stands at the end of a fine valley, in the middle of the island, encompassed by mountains the highest in the world.  They are seen three days’ sail off at sea.  Rubies and several sorts of minerals abound, and the rocks are for the most part composed of a metalline stone made use of to cut and polish other precious stones.  All kinds of rare plants and trees grow there, especially cedars and cocoa-nut.  There is also a pearl-fishing in the mouth of its principal river; and in some of its valleys are found diamonds.  I made, by way of devotion, a pilgrimage to the place where Adam was confined after his banishment from Paradise, and had the curiosity to go to the top of the mountain.

When I returned to the city, I prayed the king to allow me to return to my own country, and he granted me permission in the most obliging and most honourable manner.  He would needs force a rich present upon me; and when I went to take my leave of him, he gave me one much more considerable, and at the same time charged me with a letter for the commander of the faithful, our sovereign, saying to me, “I pray you give this present from me, and this letter to the caliph, and assure him of my friendship.”  I took the present and letter in a very respectful manner, and promised his majesty punctually to execute the commission with which he was pleased to honour me.  Before I embarked, this prince sent for the captain and the merchants who were to go with me, and ordered them to treat me with all possible respect.

The letter from the king of Serendib was written on the skin of a certain animal of great value, because of its being so scarce, and of a yellowish colour.  The characters of this letter were of azure, and the contents as follows:

“The king of the Indies, before whom march one hundred elephants, who lives in a palace that shines with one hundred thousand rubies, and who has in his treasury twenty thousand crowns enriched with diamonds, to caliph Haroon al Rusheed.

“Though the present we send you be inconsiderable, receive it however as a brother and a friend, in consideration of the hearty friendship which we bear for you, and of which we are willing to give you proof.  We desire the same part in your friendship, considering that we believe it to be our merit, being of the same dignity with yourself.  We conjure you this in quality of a brother.  Adieu.”

The present consisted first, of one single ruby made into a cup, about half a foot high, an inch thick, and filled with round pearls of half a drachm each. 2.  The skin of a serpent, whose scales were as large as an ordinary piece of gold, and had the virtue to preserve from sickness those who lay upon it. 3.  Fifty thousand drachms of the best wood of aloes, with thirty grains of camphire as big as pistachios. 4.  A female slave of ravishing beauty, whose apparel was all covered over with jewels.

The ship set sail, and after a very successful navigation we landed at Bussorah, and from thence I went to Bagdad, where the first thing I did was to acquit myself of my commission.

Scheherazade stopped, because day appeared, and next night proceeded thus.

I took the king of Serendib’s letter, and went to present myself at the gate of the commander of the faithful, followed by the beautiful slave, and such of my own family as carried the presents.  I stated the reason of my coming, and was immediately conducted to the throne of the caliph.  I made my reverence, and, after a short speech, gave him the letter and present.  When he had read what the king of Serendib wrote to him, he asked me, if that prince were really so rich and potent as he represented himself in his letter?  I prostrated myself a second time, and rising again, said, “Commander of the faithful, I can assure your majesty he doth not exceed the truth.  I bear him witness.  Nothing is more worthy of admiration than the magnificence of his palace.  When the prince appears in public, he has a throne fixed on the back of an elephant, and marches betwixt two ranks of his ministers, favourites, and other people of his court; before him, upon the same elephant, an officer carries a golden lance in his hand; and behind the throne there is another, who stands upright, with a column of gold, on the top of which is an emerald half a foot long, and an inch thick; before him march a guard of one thousand men, clad in cloth of gold and silk, and mounted on elephants richly caparisoned.

“While the king is on his march, the officer, who is before him on the same elephant, cries from time to time, with a loud voice, ’Behold the great monarch, the potent and redoubtable sultan of the Indies, whose palace is covered with one hundred thousand rubies, and who possesses twenty thousand crowns of diamonds.  Behold the monarch greater than Solomon, and the powerful Maha-raja.’  After he has pronounced those words, the officer behind the throne cries in his turn, ’This monarch, so great and so powerful, must die, must die, must die.’  And the officer before replies, ‘Praise be to him who lives for ever.’

“Farther, the king of Serendib is so just, that there are no judges in his dominions.  His people have no need of them.  They understand and observe justice rigidly of themselves.”

The caliph was much pleased with my account.  “The wisdom of that king,” said he, “appears in his letter, and after what you tell me, I must confess, that his wisdom is worthy of his people, and his people deserve so wise a prince.”  Having spoken thus, he dismissed me, and sent me home with a rich present.

Sinbad left off, and his company retired, Hindbad having first received one hundred sequins; and next day they returned to hear the relation of his seventh and last voyage.

The Seventh and Last Voyage.

Being returned from my sixth voyage, said Sinbad, I absolutely laid aside all thoughts of travelling; for, besides that my age now required rest, I was resolved no more to expose myself to such risks as I had encountered; so that I thought of nothing but to pass the rest of my days in tranquillity.  One day as I was treating my friends, one of my servants came and told me that an officer of the caliph’s enquired for me.  I rose from table, and went to him.  “The caliph,” he said, “has sent me to tell you, that he must speak with you.”  I followed the officer to the palace, where being presented to the caliph, I saluted him by prostrating myself at his feet.  “Sinbad,” said he to me, “I stand in need of your service; you must carry my answer and present to the king of Serendib.  It is but just I should return his civility.”

This command of the caliph was to me like a clap of thunder.  “Commander of the faithful,” I replied, “I am ready to do whatever your majesty shall think fit to command; but I beseech you most humbly to consider what I have undergone.  I have also made a vow never to go out of Bagdad.”  Hence I took occasion to give him a full and particular account of all my adventures, which he had the patience to hear out.

As soon as I had finished, “I confess,” said he, “that the things you tell me are very extraordinary, yet you must for my sake undertake this voyage which I propose to you.  You will only have to go to the isle of Serendib, and deliver the commission which I give you.  After that you are at liberty to return.  But you must go; for you know it would not comport with my dignity, to be indebted to the king of that island.”  Perceiving that the caliph insisted upon my compliance, I submitted, and told him that I was willing to obey.  He was very well pleased, and ordered me one thousand sequins for the expences of my journey.

I prepared for my departure in a few days, and as soon as the caliph’s letter and present were delivered to me, I went to Bussorah, where I embarked, and had a very happy voyage.  Having arrived at the isle of Serendib, I acquainted the king’s ministers with my commission, and prayed them to get me speedy audience.  They did so, and I was conducted to the palace in an honourable manner, where I saluted the king by prostration, according to custom.  That prince knew me immediately, and testified very great joy at seeing me.  “Sinbad,” said he, “you are welcome; I have many times thought of you since you departed; I bless the day on which we see one another once more.”  I made my compliment to him, and after having thanked him for his kindness, delivered the caliph’s letter and present, which he received with all imaginable satisfaction.

The caliph’s present was a complete suit of cloth of gold, valued at one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred of white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, and Alexandria; a vessel of agate broader than deep, an inch thick, and half a foot wide, the bottom of which represented in bass relief a man with one knee on the ground, who held bow and an arrow, ready to discharge at a lion.  He sent him also a rich tablet, which, according to tradition, belonged to the great Solomon.  The caliph’s letter was as follows:

“Greeting, in the name of the sovereign guide of the right way, from the dependent on God, Haroon al Rusheed, whom God hath set in the place of vicegerent to his prophet, after his ancestors of happy memory, to the potent and esteemed Raja of Serendib.

“We received your letter with joy, and send you this from our imperial residence, the garden of superior wits.  We hope when you look upon it, you will perceive our good intention and be pleased with it.  Adieu.”

The king of Serendib was highly gratified that the caliph answered his friendship.  A little time after this audience, I solicited leave to depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it.  I procured it however at last, and the king, when he dismissed me, made me a very considerable present.  I embarked immediately to return to Bagdad, but had not the good fortune to arrive there so speedily as I had hoped.  God ordered it otherwise.

Three or four days after my departure, we were attacked by corsairs, who easily seized upon our ship, because it was no vessel of force.  Some of the crew offered resistance, which cost them their lives.  But for myself and the rest, who were not so imprudent, the corsairs saved us on purpose to make slaves of us.

We were all stripped, and instead of our own clothes, they gave us sorry rags, and carried us into a remote island, where they sold us.

I fell into the hands of a rich merchant, who, as soon as he bought me, carried me to his house, treated me well, and clad me handsomely for a slave.  Some days after, not knowing who I was, he asked me if I understood any trade?  I answered, that I was no mechanic, but a merchant, and that the corsairs, who sold me, had robbed me of all I possessed.  “But tell me,” replied he, “can you shoot with a bow?” I answered, that the bow was one of my exercises in my youth.  He gave me a bow and arrows, and, taking me behind him upon an elephant, carried me to a thick forest some leagues from the town.  We penetrated a great way into the wood, and when he thought fit to stop, he bade me alight; then shewing me a great tree, “Climb up that,” said he, “and shoot at the elephants as you see them pass by, for there is a prodigious number of them in this forest, and if any of them fall, come and give me notice.”  Having spoken thus, he left me victuals, and returned to the town, and I continued upon the tree all night.

I saw no elephant during that time, but next morning, as soon as the sun was up, I perceived a great number.  I shot several arrows among them, and at last one of the elephants fell, when the rest retired immediately, and left me at liberty to go and acquaint my patron with my booty.  When I had informed him, he gave me a good meal, commended my dexterity, and caressed me highly.  We went afterwards together to the forest, where we dug a hole for the elephant; my patron designing to return when it was rotten, and take his teeth to trade with.

I continued this employment for two months, and killed an elephant every day, getting sometimes upon one tree, and sometimes upon another.  One morning, as I looked for the elephants, I perceived with extreme amazement, that, instead of passing by me across the forest as usual, they stopped, and came to me with a horrible noise, in such number that the plain was covered, and shook under them.  They encompassed the tree in which I was concealed, with their trunks extended, and all fixed their eyes upon.  At this alarming spectacle I continued immoveable, and was so much terrified, that my bow and arrows fell out of my hand.

My fears were not without cause; for after the elephants had stared upon me some time, one of the largest of them put his trunk round the foot of the tree, plucked it up, and threw it on the ground; I fell with the tree, and the elephant taking me up with his trunk, laid me on his back, where I sat more like one dead than alive, with my quiver on my shoulder.  He put himself afterwards at the head of the rest, who followed him in troops, carried me a considerable way, then laid me down on the ground, and retired with all his companions.  Conceive, if you can, the condition I was in:  I thought myself in a dream.  After having lain some time, and seeing the elephants gone, I got up, and found I was upon a long and broad hill, almost covered with the bones and teeth of elephants.  I confess to you, that this object furnished me with abundance of reflections.  I admired the instinct of those animals; I doubted not but that was their burying place, and that they carried me thither on purpose to tell me that I should forbear to persecute them, since I did it only for their teeth.  I did not stay on the hill, but turned towards the city, and, after having travelled a day and a night, I came to my patron.  I met no elephant in my way, which made me think they had retired farther into the forest, to leave me at liberty to come back to the hill without any obstacle.

As soon as my patron saw me; “Ah, poor Sinbad,” exclaimed he, “I was in great trouble to know what was become of you.  I have been at the forest, where I found a tree newly pulled up, and a bow and arrows on the ground, and after having sought for you in vain, I despaired of ever, seeing you more.  Pray tell me what befell you, and by what good chance thou art still alive.”  I satisfied his curiosity, and going both of us next morning to the hill, he found to his great joy that what I had told him was true.  We loaded the elephant which had carried us with as many teeth as he could bear; and when we were returned, “Brother,” said my patron, “for I will treat you no more as my slave, after having made such a discovery as will enrich me, God bless you with all happiness and prosperity.  I declare before him, that I give you your liberty.  I concealed from you what I am now going to tell you.

“The elephants of our forest have every year killed us a great many slaves, whom we sent to seek ivory.  For all the cautions we could give them, those crafty animals destroyed them one time or other.  God has delivered you from their fury, and has bestowed that favour upon you only.  It is a sign that he loves you, and has some use for your service in the world.  You have procured me incredible wealth.  Formerly we could not procure ivory but by exposing the lives of our slaves, and now our whole city is enriched by your means.  Do not think I pretend to have rewarded you by giving you your liberty, I will also give you considerable riches.  I could engage all our city to contribute towards making your fortune, but I will have the glory of doing it myself.”

To this obliging declaration I replied, “Patron, God preserve you.  Your giving me my liberty is enough to discharge what you owe me, and I desire no other reward for the service I had the good fortune to do to you and your city, but leave to return to my own country.”  “Very well,” said he, “the monsoon will in a little time bring ships for ivory.  I will then send you home, and give you wherewith to bear your charges.”  I thanked him again for my liberty and his good intentions towards me.  I staid with him expecting the monsoon; and during that time, we made so many journeys to the hill, that we filled all our warehouses with ivory.  The other merchants, who traded in it, did the same, for it could not be long concealed from them.

The ships arrived at last, and my patron, himself having made choice of the ship wherein I was to embark, loaded half of it with ivory on my account, laid in provisions in abundance for my passage, and besides obliged me to accept a present of some curiosities of the country of great value.  After I had returned him a thousand thanks for all his favours, I went aboard.  We set sail, and as the adventure which procured me this liberty was very extraordinary, I had it continually in my thoughts.

We stopped at some islands to take in fresh provisions.  Our vessel being come to a port on the main land in the Indies, we touched there, and not being willing to venture by sea to Bussorah, I landed my proportion of the ivory, resolving to proceed on my journey by land.  I made vast sums of my ivory, bought several rarities, which I intended for presents, and when my equipage was ready, set out in company with a large caravan of merchants.  I was a long time on the way, and suffered much, but endured all with patience, when I considered that I had nothing to fear from the seas, from pirates, from serpents, or from the other perils to which I had been exposed.

All these fatigues ended at last, and I arrived safe at Bagdad.  I went immediately to wait upon the caliph, and gave him an account of my embassy.  That prince said he had been uneasy, as I was so long in returning, but that he always hoped God would preserve me.  When I told him the adventure of the elephants, he seemed much surprised, and would never have given any credit to it had he not known my veracity.  He deemed this story, and the other relations I had given him, to be so curious, that he ordered one of his secretaries to write them in characters of gold, and lay them up in his treasury.  I retired well satisfied with the honours I received, and the presents which he gave me; and ever since I have devoted myself wholly to my family, kindred, and friends.

Sinbad here finished the relation of his seventh and last voyage, and then addressing himself to Hindbad, “Well, friend,” said he, “did you ever hear of any person that suffered so much as I have done, or of any mortal that has gone through so many vicissitudes?  Is it not reasonable that, after all this I should enjoy a quiet and pleasant life?” As he said this, Hindbad drew near to him, and kissing his hand, said, “I must acknowledge, sir, that you have gone through many imminent dangers; my troubles are not comparable to yours:  if they afflict me for a time, I comfort myself with the thoughts of the profit I get by them.  You not only deserve a quiet life, but are worthy of all the riches you enjoy, because you make of them such a good and generous use.  May you therefore continue to live in happiness and joy till the day of your death!” Sinbad gave him one hundred sequins more, received him into the number of his friends, desired him to quit his porter’s employment, and come and dine every day with him, that he might have reason to remember Sinbad the voyager.

The three apples.

The Caliph Haroon al Rusheed one day commanded the grand vizier Jaffier to come to his palace the night following.  “Vizier,” said he, “I will take a walk round the town, to inform myself what people say, and particularly how they are pleased with my officers of justice.  If there be any against whom they have cause of just complaint, we will turn them out, and put others in their stead, who shall officiate better.  If, on the contrary, there be any that have gained their applause, we will have that esteem for them which they deserve.”  The grand vizier being come to the palace at the hour appointed, the caliph, he, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs, disguised themselves so that they could not be known, and went out all three together.

They passed through several places, and by several markets.  As they entered a small street, they perceived by the light of the moon, a tall man, with a white beard, who carried nets on his head, and a staff in his hand.  “To judge from his appearance,” said the caliph, “that old man is not rich; let us go to him and inquire into his circumstances.”  “Honest man,” said the vizier, “who art thou?” The old man replied, “Sir, I am a fisher, but one of the poorest and most miserable of the trade.  I went from my house about noon a fishing, and from that time to this I have not been able to catch one fish; at the same time I have a wife and small children, and nothing to maintain them.”

The caliph, moved with compassion, said to the fisherman, “Hast thou the courage to go back and cast thy net once more?  We will give thee a hundred sequins for what thou shalt bring up.”  At this proposal, the fisherman, forgetting all his day’s toil, took the caliph at his word, and returned to the Tigris, accompanied by the caliph, Jaaffier, and Mesrour; saying to himself as he went, “These gentlemen seem too honest and reasonable not to reward my pains; and if they give me the hundredth part of what they promise, it will be an ample recompence.”

They came to the bank of the river, and the fisherman, having thrown in his net, when he drew it again, brought up a trunk close shut, and very heavy.  The caliph made the grand vizier pay him one hundred sequins immediately, and sent him away.  Mesrour, by his master’s order, carried the trunk on his shoulder, and the caliph was so very eager to know what it contained, that he returned to the palace with all speed.  When the trunk was opened, they found in it a large basket made of palm-leaves, shut up, and the covering of it sewed with red thread.  To satisfy the caliph’s impatience, they would not take time to undo it, but cut the thread with a knife, and took out of the basket a package wrapt up in a sorry piece of hanging, and bound about with a rope; which being untied, they found, to their great amazement, the corpse of a young lady, whiter than snow, all cut in pieces.

The astonishment of the caliph was great at this dreadful spectacle.  His surprise was instantly changed into passion, and darting an angry look at the vizier, “Thou wretch,” said he, “is this your inspection into the actions of my people?  Do they commit such impious murders under thy ministry in my capital, and throw my subjects into the Tigris, that they may cry for vengeance against me at the day of judgment?  If thou dost not speedily avenge the murder of this woman, by the death of her murderer, I swear by heaven, that I will cause thee and forty more of thy kindred to be impaled.”  “Commander of the faithful,” replied the grand vizier, “I beg your majesty to grant me time to make enquiry.”  “I will allow thee no more,” said the caliph, “than three days.”

The vizier Jaaffier went home in great perplexity.  “Alas!” said he “how is it possible that in such a vast and populous city as Bagdad, I should be able to detect a murderer, who undoubtedly committed the crime without witness, and perhaps may be already gone from hence?  Any other vizier than I would take some wretched person out of prison, and cause him to be put to death to satisfy the caliph; but I will not burden my conscience with such a barbarous action; I will rather die than preserve my life by the sacrifice of another innocent person.”

He ordered the officers of the police and justice to make strict search for the criminal.  They sent their servants about, and they were not idle themselves, for they were no less concerned in this matter than the vizier.  But all their endeavours were to no purpose; what pains soever they took they could not discover the murderer; so that the vizier concluded his life to be lost.

The third day being arrived, an officer came to the unfortunate minister, with a summons to follow him, which the vizier obeyed.  The caliph asked him for the murderer.  He answered, “Commander of the faithful, I have not found any person that could give me the least account of him.”  The caliph, full of fury and rage, gave him many reproachful words, and ordered that he and forty Bermukkees should be impaled at the gate of the palace.

In the mean while the stakes were preparing, and orders were sent to seize forty Bermukkees in their houses; a public crier was sent about the city by the caliph’s order, to cry thus:  “Those who have a desire to see the grand vizier Jaaffier impaled, with forty of his kindred, let them come to the square before the palace.”

When all things were ready, the criminal judge, and many officers belonging to the palace, having brought out the grand vizier with the forty Bermukkees, set each by the stake designed for him.  The multitude of people that filled the square could not without grief and tears behold this tragical sight; for the grand vizier and the Bermukkees were loved and honoured on account of their probity, bounty, and impartiality, not only in Bagdad, but through all the dominions of the caliph.

Nothing could prevent the execution of this prince’s severe and irrevocable sentence, and the lives of the most deserving people in the city were just going to be sacrificed, when a young man of handsome mien pressed through the crowd till he came up to the grand vizier, and after he had kissed his hand, said, “Most excellent vizier, chief of the emirs of this court, and comforter of the poor, you are not guilty of the crime for which you stand here.  Withdraw, and let me expiate the death of the lady that was thrown into the Tigris.  It is I who murdered her, and I deserve to be punished for my offence.”

Though these words occasioned great joy to the vizier, yet he could not but pity the young man, in whose look he saw something that instead of evincing guilt was engaging:  but as he was about to answer him, a tall man advanced in years, who had likewise forced his way through the crowd, came up to him, saying, “Do not believe what this young man tells you, I killed that lady who was found in the trunk, and this punishment ought only to fall upon me.  I conjure you in the name of God not to punish the innocent for the guilty.”  “Sir,” said the young man to the vizier, “I do protest that I am he who committed this vile act, and nobody else had any concern in it.”  “My son,” said the old man, “it is despair that brought you hither, and you would anticipate your destiny.  I have lived a long while in the world, and it is time for me to be gone; let me therefore sacrifice my life for yours.”  “Sir,” said he again to the vizier, “I tell you once more I am the murderer; let me die without delay.”

The controversy between the old and the young man induced the grand vizier to carry them both before the caliph, to which the judge criminal consented, being glad to serve the vizier.  When he came before the prince, he kissed the ground seven times, and spake after this manner:  “Commander of the faithful, I have brought here before your majesty this old and this young man, each of whom declares himself to be the sole murderer of the lady.”  The caliph asked the criminals which of them it was that so cruelly murdered the lady, and threw her into the Tigris?  The young man assured him it was he, but the old man maintained the contrary.  “Go,” said the caliph to the grand vizier, “and cause them both to be impaled.”  “But, Sir,” said the vizier, “if only one of them be guilty, it would be unjust to take the lives of both.”  At these words the young man spoke again, “I swear by the great God, who has raised the heavens so high, that I am the man who killed the lady, cut her in pieces, and about four days ago threw her into the Tigris.  I renounce my part of happiness amongst the just at the day of judgment, if what I say be not truth; therefore I am he that ought to suffer.”  The caliph being surprised at this oath, believed him; especially since the old man made no answer.  Whereupon, turning to the young man, “Wretch,” said he, “what made thee commit that detestable crime, and what is it that moves thee to offer thyself voluntarily to die?” “Commander of the faithful,” said he, “if all that has past between that lady and me were set down in writing, it would be a history that might be useful to other men.”  “I command thee then to relate it,” said the caliph.  The young man obeyed, and began his history.

The Story of the Lady who was Murdered, and of the Young Man her
Husband.

Commander of the faithful, this murdered lady was my wife, daughter of this old man, who is my uncle by the father’s side.  She was not above twelve years old, when eleven years ago he gave her to me.  I have three children by her, all boys, yet alive, and I must do her the justice to say, that she never gave me the least occasion for offence; she was chaste, of good behaviour, and made it her whole business to please me.  And on my part I ardently loved her, and in every thing rather anticipated than opposed her wishes.

About two months ago she fell sick; I took all imaginable care of her, and spared nothing that could promote her speedy recovery.  After a month thus passed she began to grow better, and expressed a wish to go to the bath.  Before she went, “Cousin,” said she (for so she used to call me out of familiarity), “I long for some apples; if you would get me any, you would greatly please me.  I have longed for them a great while, and I must own it is come to that height, that if I be not satisfied very soon, I fear some misfortune will befall me.”  “I will cheerfully try,” said I, “and do all in my power to make you easy.”

I went immediately round all the markets and shops in the town to seek for apples, but I could not get one, though I offered to pay a sequin a piece.  I returned home much dissatisfied at my failure; and for my wife, when she returned from the bagnio, and saw no apples, she became so very uneasy, that she could not sleep all night.  I got up by times in the morning, and went through all the gardens, but had no better success than the day before; only I happened to meet an old gardener, who told me, that all my pains would signify nothing, for I could not expect to find apples any where but in your majesty’s garden at Bussorah.  As I loved my wife passionately, and would not neglect to satisfy her, I dressed myself in a traveller’s habit, and after I had told her my design, went to Bussorah, and made my journey with such speed, that I returned at the end of fifteen days with three apples, which cost me a sequin apiece, for as there were no more left, the gardener would not let me have them for less.  As soon as I came home, I presented them to my wife, but her longing had ceased, she satisfied herself with receiving them, and laid them down by her.  In the mean time she continued sickly, and I knew not what remedy to procure for her relief.

Some few days after I returned from my journey, sitting in my shop in the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold, I saw an ugly, tall, black slave come in, with an apple in his hand, which I knew to be one of those I had brought from Bussorah.  I had no reason to doubt it, because I was certain there was not one to be had in Bagdad, nor in any of the gardens in the vicinity.  I called to him, and said, “Good slave, pr’ythee tell me where thou hadst this apple?” “It is a present” (said he, smiling) “from my mistress.  I went to see her to-day, and found her out of order.  I saw three apples lying by her, and asked her where she had them.  She told me the good man, her husband, had made a fortnight’s journey on purpose, and brought them to her.  We had a collation together; and, when I took my leave of her, I brought away this apple.”

This account rendered me distracted.  I rose, shut up my shop, ran home with all speed, and going to my wife’s chamber, looked immediately for the apples, and seeing only two, asked what was become of the third.  My wife, turning her head to the place where the apples lay, and perceiving there were but two, answered me coldly, “Cousin, I know not what is become of it.”  At this reply I was convinced what the slave had told me was true; and giving myself up to madness and jealousy, drew my knife from my girdle, and thrust it into the unfortunate creature’s throat.  I afterwards cut off her head, and divided her body into four quarters, which I packed up in a bundle, sewed it up with a thread of red yarn, put all together in a trunk, and when night came, carried it on my shoulder down to the Tigris, where I sunk it.

The two youngest of my children were asleep, the third was out; but at my return, I found him sitting by my gate, weeping.  I asked him the reason; “Father,” said he, “I took this morning from my mother, without her knowledge, one of those three apples you brought her, and kept it a long while; but, as I was playing some time ago with my little brother in the street, a tall slave passing by snatched it out of my hands, and carried it away.  I ran after him, demanding it back, and besides told him, that it belonged to my mother, who was sick; and that you had made a fortnight’s journey to procure it; but all to no purpose, he would not restore it.  And as I still followed him, crying out, he turned and beat me, and then ran away as fast as he could from one lane to another, till at length I lost sight of him.  I have since been walking without the town expecting your return, to pray you, dear father, not to tell my mother of it, lest it should make her worse!” When he had thus spoken he fell a weeping again more bitterly than before.

My son’s account afflicted me beyond measure.  I then found myself guilty of an enormous crime, and repented too late of having so easily believed the calumnies of a wretched slave, who, from what he had learnt of my son, had invented that fatal falsehood.

My uncle here present came just at that time to see his daughter, but instead of finding her alive, understood from me that she was dead, for I concealed nothing from him; and without staying for his censure, declared myself the greatest criminal in the world.

Upon this, instead of reproaching me, he joined his tears with mine, and we together wept three days without intermission, he for the loss of a daughter whom he had loved tenderly; and I for the loss of a beloved wife, of whom I had deprived myself in so cruel a manner by giving too easy credit to the report of a lying slave.

This, commander of the faithful, is the sincere confession your majesty required from me.  You have now heard all the circumstances of my crime, and I must humbly beg of you to order the punishment due for it; how severe soever it may be, I shall not in the least complain, but esteem it too easy and light.

The caliph was much astonished at the young man’s relation.  But this just prince, finding he was rather to be pitied than condemned, began to speak in his favour:  “This young man’s crime,” said he, “is pardonable before God, and excusable with men.  The wicked slave is the sole cause of this murder; it is he alone that must be punished:  wherefore,” continued he, looking upon the grand vizier, “I give you three days’ time to find him out; if you do not bring him within that space, you shall die in his stead.”  The unfortunate Jaaffier, had thought himself out of danger, was perplexed at this order of the caliph; but as he durst not return any answer to the prince, whose hasty temper he knew too well, he departed from his presence, and retired melancholy to his house, convinced that he had but three days to live; for he was so fully persuaded that he should not find the slave, that he made not the least enquiry after him.  “Is it possible,” said he, “that in such a city as Bagdad, where there is an infinite number of negro slaves, I should be able to find him out that is guilty?  Unless God be pleased to interpose as he hath already to detest the murderer, nothing can save my life.”

He spent the first two days in mourning with his family, who sat round him weeping and complaining of the caliph’s cruelty.  The third day being arrived, he prepared himself to die with courage, as an honest minister, and one who had nothing to trouble his conscience; he sent for notaries and witnesses’ who signed his will.  After which he took leave of his wife and children, and bade them farewell.  All his family were drowned in tears, so that there never was a more sorrowful spectacle.  At last a messenger came from the caliph to tell him that he was out of all patience, having heard nothing from him concerning the negro slave whom he had commanded him to search for; “I am therefore ordered,” said the messenger, “to bring you before his throne.”  The afflicted vizier, obeyed the mandate, but as he was going out, they brought him his youngest daughter, about five or six years of age, to receive his last blessing.

As he had a particular affection for that child, he prayed the messenger to give him leave to stop a moment, and taking his daughter in his arms, kissed her several times:  as he kissed her, he perceived she had something in her bosom that looked bulky, and had a sweet scent.  “My dear little one,” said he, “what hast thou in thy bosom?” “My dear father,” she replied, “it is an apple which our slave Rihan sold me for two sequins.”

At these words apple and slave, the grand vizier, uttered an exclamation of surprise, intermixed with joy, and putting his hand into the child’s bosom, pulled out the apple.  He caused the slave, who was not far off, to be brought immediately, and when he came, “Rascal,” said he, “where hadst thou this apple?” “My lord,” replied the slave, “I swear to you that I neither stole it in your house, nor out of the commander of the faithful’s garden; but the other day, as I was passing through a street where three or four children were at play, one of them having it in his hand, I snatched it from him, and carried it away.  The child ran after me, telling me it was not his own, but belonged mother, who was sick; and that his father, to satisfy her longing, had made a long journey, and brought home three apples, whereof this was one, which he had taken from his mother without her knowledge.  He said all he could to prevail upon me to give it him back, but I refused, and so brought it home, and sold it for two sequins to the little lady your daughter.”

Jaaffier could not reflect without astonishment that the mischievousness of a slave had been the cause of an innocent woman’s death, and nearly of his own.  He carried the slave along with him, and when he came before the caliph, gave the prince an exact account of what the slave had told him, and the chance which led him to the discovery of his crime.

Never was any surprise so great as that of the caliph, yet he could not refrain from falling into excessive fits of laughter.  At last he recovered himself, and with a serious air told the vizier, that since his slave had been the occasion of murder, he deserved an exemplary punishment.  “I must own it,” said the vizier, “but his guilt is not unpardonable:  I remember the wonderful history of a vizier, of Cairo, and am ready to relate it, upon condition that if your majesty finds it more astonishing than that which gives me occasion to tell it, you will be pleased to pardon my slave.”  “I consent,” said the caliph; “but you undertake a hard task, for I do not believe you can save your slave, the story of the apples being so very singular.”  Upon this, Jaaffier began his story thus:

The Story of Noor ad Deen Ali and Buddir ad Deen Houssun.

Commander of the faithful, there was formerly a sultan of Egypt, a strict observer of justice, gracious, merciful, and liberal, and his valour made him terrible to his neighbours.  He loved the poor, and protected the learned, whom he advanced to the highest dignities.  This sultan had a vizier, who was prudent, wise, sagacious, and well versed in all sciences.  This minister had two sons, who in every thing followed his footsteps.  The eldest was called Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, and the younger Noor ad Deen Ali.  The latter was endowed with all the good qualities that man could possess.

The vizier their father being dead, the sultan caused them both to put on the robes of a vizier, “I am as sorry,” said he, “as you are for the loss of your father; and because I know you live together, and love one another cordially, I will bestow his dignity upon you conjointly; go, and imitate your father’s conduct.”

The two new viziers humbly thanked the sultan, and retired to make due preparation for their father’s interment.  They did not go abroad for a month, after which they repaired to court, and attended their duties.  When the sultan hunted, one of the brothers accompanied him, and this honour they had by turns.  One evening as they were conversing together after a cheerful meal, the next day being the elder brother’s turn to hunt with the sultan, he said to his younger brother, “Since neither of us is yet married, and we live so affectionately together, let us both wed the same day sisters out of some family that may suit our quality.  What do you think of this plan?” “Brother,” answered the other vizier, “there cannot be a better thought; for my part, I will agree to any thing you approve.”  “But this is not all,” said the elder; “my fancy carries me farther:  Suppose both our wives should conceive the first night of our marriage, and should happen to be brought to bed on one day, yours of a son, and mine of a daughter, we will give them to each other in marriage.”  “Nay,” said Noor ad Deen aloud, “I must acknowledge that this prospect is admirable; such a marriage will perfect our union, and I willingly consent to it.  But then, brother,” said he farther, “if this marriage should happen, would you expect that my son should settle a jointure on your daughter?” “There is no difficulty in that,” replied the other; “for I am persuaded, that besides the usual articles of the marriage contract, you will not fail to promise in his name at least three thousand sequins, three landed estates, and three slaves.”  “No,” said the younger “I will not consent to that; are we not brethren, and equal in title and dignity?  Do not you and I know what is just?  The male being nobler than the female, it is your part to give a large dowry with your daughter.  By what I perceive, you are a man that would have your business done at another’s charge.”

Although Noor ad Deen spoke these words in jest, his brother being of a hasty temper, was offended, and falling into a passion said, “A mischief upon your son, since you prefer him before my daughter.  I wonder you had so much confidence as to believe him worthy of her; you must needs have lost your judgment to think you are my equal, and say we are colleagues.  I would have you to know, that since you are so vain, I would not marry my daughter to your son though you would give him more than you are worth.”  This pleasant quarrel between two brothers about the marriage of their children before they were born went so far, that Shumse ad Deen concluded by threatening:  “Were I not to-morrow,” said he, “to attend the sultan, I would treat you as you deserve; but at my return, I will make you sensible that it does not become a younger brother to speak so insolently to his elder as you have done to me.”  Upon this he retired to his apartment in anger.

Shumse ad Deen rising early next morning, attended the sultan, who went to hunt near the pyramids.  As for Noor ad Deen, he was very uneasy all night, and supposing it would not be possible to live longer with a brother who had treated him with so much haughtiness, he provided a stout mule, furnished himself with money and jewels, and having told his people that he was going on a private journey for two or three days, departed.

When out of Cairo, he rode by way of the desert towards Arabia; but his mule happening to tire, was forced to continue his journey on foot.  A courier who was going to Bussorah, by good fortune overtaking him, took him up behind him.  As soon as the courier reached that city, Noor ad Deen alighted, and returned him thanks for his kindness.  As he went about to seek for a lodging, he saw a person of quality with a numerous retinue, to whom all the people shewed the greatest respect, and stood still till he had passed.  This personage was grand vizier, to the sultan of Bussorah, who was passing through the city to see that the inhabitants kept good order and discipline.

This minister casting his eyes by chance on Noor ad Deen Ali, perceiving something extraordinary in his aspect, looked very attentively upon him, and as he saw him in a traveller’s habit, stopped his train, asked him who he was, and from whence he came?  “Sir,” said Noor ad Deen, “I am an Egyptian, born at Cairo, and have left my country, because of the unkindness of a near relation, resolved to travel through the world, and rather to die than return home.”  The grand vizier, who was a good-natured man, after hearing these words, said to him, “Son, beware; do not pursue your design; you are not sensible of the hardships you must endure.  Follow me; I may perhaps make you forget the misfortunes which have forced you to leave your own country.”

Noor ad Deen followed the grand vizier, who soon discovered his good qualities, and conceived for him so great an affection, that one day he said to him in private, “My son, I am, as you see, so far gone in years, that it is not probable I shall live much longer.  Heaven has bestowed on me only one daughter, who is as beautiful as you are handsome, and now fit for marriage.  Several nobles of the highest rank at this court have sought her for their sons, but I would not grant their request.  I have an affection for you, and think you so worthy to be received into my family, that, preferring you before all those who have demanded her, I am ready to accept you for my son-in-law.  If you like the proposal, I will acquaint the sultan my master that I have adopted you by this marriage, and intreat him to grant you the reversion of my dignity of grand vizier in the kingdom of Bussorah.  In the mean time, nothing being more requisite for me than ease in my old age, I will not only put you in possession of great part of my estate, but leave the administration of public affairs to your management.”

When the grand vizier had concluded this kind and generous proposal, Noor ad Deen fell at his feet, and expressing himself in terms that demonstrated his joy and gratitude, assured him, that he was at his command in every way.  Upon this the vizier sent for his chief domestics, ordered them to adorn the great hall of his palace, and prepare a splendid feast.  He afterwards sent to invite the nobility of the court and city, to honour him with their company; and when they were all met (Noor ad Deen having made known his quality), he said to the noblemen present, for he thought it proper to speak thus on purpose to satisfy those to whom he had refused his alliance, “I am now, my lords, to discover a circumstance which hitherto I have keep a secret.  I have a brother, who is grand vizier to the sultan of Egypt.  This brother has but one son, whom he would not marry in the court of Egypt, but sent him hither to wed my daughter in order that both branches of our family may be united.  His son, whom I knew to be my nephew as soon as I saw him, is the young man I now present to you as my son-in-law.  I hope you will do me the honour to be present at his wedding, which I am resolved to celebrate this day.”  The noblemen, who could not be offended at his preferring his nephew to the great matches that had been proposed, allowed that he had very good reason for his choice, were willing to be witnesses to the ceremony, and wished that God might prolong his days to enjoy the satisfaction of the happy match.

The lords met at the vizier of Bussorah’s palace, having testified their satisfaction at the marriage of his daughter with Noor ad Deen Ali, sat down to a magnificent repast, after which, notaries came in with the marriage contrast, and the chief lords signed it; and when the company had departed, the grand vizier ordered his servants to have every thing in readiness for Noor ad Deen Ali, to bathe.  He had fine new linen, and rich vestments provided for him in the greatest profusion.  Having bathed and dressed, he was perfumed with the most odoriferous essences, and went to compliment the vizier, his father-in-law, who was exceedingly pleased with his noble demeanour.  Having made him sit down, “My son,” said he, “you have declared to me who you are, and the office you held at the court of Egypt.  You have also told me of a difference betwixt you and your brother, which occasioned you to leave your country.  I desire you to make me your entire confidant, and to acquaint me with the cause of your quarrel; for now you have no reason either to doubt my affection, or to conceal any thing from me.”

Noor ad Deen informed him of every circumstance of the quarrel; at which the vizier, burst out into a fit of laughter, and said, “This is one of the strangest occurrences I ever heard.  Is it possible, my son, that your quarrel should rise so high about an imaginary marriage?  I am sorry you fell out with your elder brother upon such a frivolous matter; but he was also wrong in being angry at what you only spoke in jest, and I ought to thank heaven for that difference which has procured me such a son-in-law.  But,” continued the vizier, “it is late, and time for you to retire; go to your bride, my son, she expects you:  to-morrow, I will present you to the sultan, and hope he will receive you in such a manner as shall satisfy us both.”  Noor ad Deen Ali took leave of his father-in-law, and retired to his bridal apartment.

It is remarkable that Shumse ad Deen Mahummud happened also to marry at Cairo the very same day that this marriage was solemnized at Bussorah, the particulars of which are as follow:

After Noor ad Deen Ali left Cairo, with an intention never to return, his elder brother, who was hunting with the sultan of Egypt, was absent for a month; for the sultan being fond of the chase, continued it often for so long a period.  At his return, Shumse ad Deen was much surprised when he understood, that under presence of taking a short journey his brother departed from Cairo on a mule the same day as the sultan, and had never appeared since.  It vexed him so much the more, because he did not doubt but the harsh words he had used had occasioned his flight.  He sent a messenger in search of him, who went to Damascus, and as far as Aleppo, but Noor ad Deen was then at Bussorah.  When the courier returned and brought no news of him, Shumse ad Deen intended to make further inquiry after him in other parts; but in the meantime matched with the daughter of one of the greatest lords in Cairo, upon the same day in which his brother married the daughter of the grand vizier, of Bussorah.

At the end of nine months the wife of Shumse ad Deen was brought to bed of a daughter at Cairo, and on the same day the lady of Noor ad Deen was delivered of a son at Bussorah, who was called Buddir ad Deen Houssun.

The grand vizier, of Bussorah testified his joy for the birth of his grandson by gifts and public entertainments.  And to shew his son-in-law the great esteem he had for him, he went to the palace, and most humbly besought the sultan to grant Noor ad Deen Ali his office, that he might have the comfort before his death to see his son in-law made grand vizier, in his stead.

The sultan, who had conceived a distinguished regard for Noor ad Deen when the vizier, had presensed him upon his marriage, and had ever since heard every body speak well of him, readily granted his father-in-law’s request, and caused Noor ad Deen immediately to be invested with the robe and insignia of the vizarut, such as state drums, standards, and writing apparatus of gold richly enamelled and set with jewels.

The next day, when the father saw his son-in-law preside in council, as he himself had done, and perform all the offices of grand vizier, his joy was complete.  Noor ad Deen Ali conducted himself with that dignity and propriety which shewed him to have been used to state affairs, and engaged the approbation of the sultan, and reverence and affection of the people.

The old vizier of Bussorah died about four years afterwards with great satisfaction, seeing a branch of his family that promised so fair to support its future consequence and respectability.

Noor ad Deen Ali, performed his last duty to him with all possible love and gratitude.  And as soon as his son Buddir ad Deen Houssun had attained the age of seven years, provided him an excellent tutor, who taught him such things as became his birth.  The child had a ready wit, and a genius capable of receiving all the good instructions that could be given.

After Buddir ad Deen had been two years under the tuition of his master, who taught him perfectly to read, he learnt the Koran by heart.  His father put him afterwards to other tutors, by whom his mind was cultivated to such a degree, that when he was twelve years of age he had no more occasion for them.  And then, as his physiognomy promised wonders, he was admired by all who saw him.

Hitherto his father had kept him to study, but now he introduced him to the sultan, who received him graciously.  The people who saw him in the streets were charmed with his demeanour, and gave him a thousand blessings.

His father proposing to render him capable of supplying his place, accustomed him to business of the greatest moment, on purpose to qualify him betimes.  In short, he omitted nothing to advance a son he loved so well.  But as he began to enjoy the fruits of his labour, he was suddenly seized by a violent fit of sickness; and finding himself past recovery, disposed himself to die a good Mussulmaun.

In that last and precious moment he forgot not his son, but called for him, and said, “My son, you see this world is transitory; there is nothing durable but in that to which I shall speedily go.  You must therefore from henceforth begin to fit yourself for this change, as I have done; you must prepare for it without murmuring, so as to have no trouble of conscience for not having acted the part of a really honest man.  As for your religion, you are sufficiently instructed in it, by what you have learnt from your tutors, and your own study; and as to what belongs to an upright man, I shall give you some instructions, of which I hope you will make good use.  As it is a necessary thing to know one’s self, and you cannot come to that knowledge without you first understand who I am, I shall now inform you.

“I am a native of Egypt; my father, your grandfather, was first minister to the sultan of that kingdom.  I had myself the honour to be vizier, to that sultan, and so has my brother, your uncle, who I suppose is yet alive; his name is Shumse ad Deen Mahummud.  I was obliged to leave him, and come into this country, where I have raised myself to the high dignity I now enjoy.  But you will understand all these matters more fully by a manuscript that I shall give you.”

At the same time, Noor ad Deen Ali gave to his son a memorandum book, saying, “Take and read it at your leisure; you will find, among other things, the day of my marriage, and that of your birth.  These are circumstances which perhaps you may hereafter have occasion to know, therefore you must keep it very carefully.”

Buddir ad Deen Houssun being sincerely afflicted to see his father in this condition, and sensibly touched with his discourse, could not but weep when he received the memorandum book, and promised at the same time never to part with it.

That very moment Noor ad Deen fainted, so that it was thought he would have expired; but he came to himself again, and spoke as follows:

“My son, the first instruction I give you, is, Not to make yourself familiar with all sorts of people.  The way to live happy is to keep your mind to yourself, and not to tell your thoughts too easily.

“Secondly, Not to do violence to any body whatever, for in that case you will draw every body’s hatred upon you.  You ought to consider the world as a creditor, to whom you owe moderation, compassion, and forbearance.

“Thirdly, Not to say a word when you are reproached; for, as the proverb says, ‘He that keeps silence is out of danger.’  And in this case particularly you ought to practice it.  You also know what one of our poets says upon this subject, ’That silence is the ornament and safe-guard of life’; That our speech ought not to be like a storm of hail that spoils all.  Never did any man yet repent of having spoken too little, whereas many have been sorry that they spoke so much.

“Fourthly, To drink no wine, for that is the source of all vices.

“Fifthly, To be frugal in your way of living; if you do not squander your estate, it will maintain you in time of necessity.  I do not mean you should be either profuse or niggardly; for though you have little, if you husband it well, and lay it out on proper occasions, you will have many friends; but if on the contrary you have great riches, and make but a bad use of them, all the world will forsake you, and leave you to yourself.”

In short, the virtuous Noor ad Deen continued till the last aspiration of his breath to give good advice to his son; and when he was dead he was magnificently interred.

Noor ad Deen was buried with all the honours due to his rank.  Buddir ad Deen Houssun of Bussorah, for so he was called, because born in that city, was with grief for the death of his father, that instead of a month’s time to mourn, according to custom, he kept himself shut up in tears and solitude about two months, without seeing any body, or so much as going abroad to pay his duty to his sovereign.  The sultan being displeased at his neglect, and looking upon it as a alight, suffered his passion to prevail, and in his anger, called for the new grand vizier, (for he had created another on the death of Noor ad Deen), commanded him to go to the house of the deceased, and seize upon it, with all his other houses, lands, and effects, without leaving any thing for Buddir ad Deen Houssun, and to confine his person.

The new grand vizier, accompanied by his officers, went immediately to execute his commission.  But one of Buddir ad Deen Houssun’s slaves happening accidentally to come into the crowd, no sooner understood the vizier’s errand, than he ran before to give his master warning.  He found him sitting in the vestibule of his house, as melancholy as if his father had been but newly dead.  He fell down at his feet out of breath, and alter he had kissed the hem of his garment, cried out, “My lord, save yourself immediately.”  The unfortunate youth lifting up his head, exclaimed, “What news dost thou bring?” “My lord,” said he, “there is no time to be lost; the sultan is incensed against you, has sent to confiscate your estates, and to seize your person.”

The words of this faithful and affectionate slave occasioned Buddir ad Deen Houssun great alarm.  “May not I have so much time,” said he, “as to take some money and jewels along with me?” “No, Sir,” replied the slave, “the grand vizier, will be here this moment; be gone immediately, save yourself.”  The unhappy youth rose hastily from his sofa, put his feet in his sandals, and after he had covered his head with the skirt of his vest, that his face might not be known, fled, without knowing what way to go, to avoid the impending danger.

He ran without stopping till he came to the public burying-ground, and as it was growing dark, resolved to pass that night in his father’s tomb.  It was a large edifice, covered by a dome, which Noor ad Deen Ali, as is common with the Mussulmauns, had erected for his sepulture.  On the way Buddir ad Deen met a Jew, who was a banker and merchant, and was returning from a place where his affairs had called him, to the city.

The Jew, knowing Buddir ad Deen, stopped, and saluted him very courteously.

Isaac the Jew, after he had paid his respects to Buddir ad Deen Houssun, by kissing his hand, said, “My lord, dare I be so bold as to ask whither you are going at this time of night alone, and so much troubled?  Has any thing disquieted you?” “Yes,” said Buddir ad Deen, “a while ago I was asleep, and my father appeared to me in a dream, looking very fiercely upon me, as if much displeased.  I started out of my sleep in alarm, and came out immediately to go and pray upon his tomb.”

“My lord,” said the Jew (who did not know the true reason why Buddir ad Deen had left the town), “your father of happy memory, and my good lord, had store of merchandize in several vessels, which are yet at sea, and belong to you; I beg the favour of you to grant me the refusal of them before any other merchant.  I am able to pay down ready money for all the goods that are in your ships:  and to begin, if you will give me those that happen to come in the first that arrives in safety, I will pay you down in part of payment a thousand sequins,” and drawing out a bag from under his vest, he shewed it him sealed up with one seal.

Buddir ad Deen Houssun being banished from home, and dispossessed of all that he had in the world, looked on this proposal of the Jew as a favour from heaven, and therefore accepted it with joy.  “My lord,” said the Jew, “then you sell me for a thousand sequins the lading of the first of your ships that shall arrive in port?” “Yes,” answered Buddir ad Deen, “I sell it to you for a thousand sequins; it is done.”  Upon this the Jew delivered him the bag of a thousand sequins, and offered to count them, but Buddir ad Deen said he would trust his word.  “Since it is so, my lord,” said he, “be pleased to favour me with a small note of the bargain we have made.”  As he spoke, he pulled the inkhorn from his girdle, and taking a small reed out of it neatly cut for writing, presented it to him with a piece of paper.  Buddir ad Deen Houssun wrote these words:

“This writing is to testify, that Buddir ad Deen Houssun of Bussorah, has sold to Isaac the Jew, for the sum of one thousand sequins, received in hand, the lading of the first of his ships that shall arrive in this port.”

This note he delivered to the Jew, after having stamped it with his seal, and then took his leave of him.

While Isaac pursued his journey to the city, Buddir ad Deen made the best of his way to his father’s tomb.  When he came to it, he prostrated himself to the ground, and, with his eyes full of tears, deplored his miserable condition.  “Alas!” said he, “unfortunate Buddir ad Deen, what will become of thee?  Whither canst thou fly for refuge against the unjust prince who persecutes thee?  Was it not enough to be afflicted by the death of so dear a father?  Must fortune needs add new misfortunes to just complaints?” He continued a long time in this posture, but at last rose up, and leaning his head upon his father’s tombstone, his sorrows returned more violently than before; so that he sighed and mourned, till, overcome with heaviness, he sunk upon the floor, and drops asleep.

He had not slept long, when a genie, who had retired to the cemetery during the day, and was intending, according to his custom, to range about the world at night, entered the sepulchre, and finding Buddir ad Deen lying on his back, was surprised at his beauty.

When the genie had attentively considered Buddir ad Deen Houssun, he said to himself, “To judge of this creature by his beauty, he would seem to be an angel of the terrestrial paradise, whom God has sent to put the world in a flame by his charms.”  At last, after he had satisfied himself with looking at him, he tool; a flight into the air, where meeting by chance with a perie, they saluted one another; after which he said to her, “Pray descend with me into the cemetery, where I dwell, and I will shew you a beauty worthy your admiration.”  The perie consented, and both descended in an instant; they came into the tomb.  “Look,” said the genie, shewing her Buddir ad Deen Houssun, “did you ever see a youth more beautiful?”

The perie having attentively observed Buddir ad Deen, replied, “I must confess that he is a very handsome man, but I am just come from seeing an objets at Cairo, more admirable than this; and if you will hear me, I will relate her unhappy fate.”  “You will very much oblige me,” answered the genie.  “You must know then,” said the perie, “that the sultan of Egypt has a vizier, Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, who has a daughter most beautiful and accomplished.  The sultan having heard of this young lady’s beauty, sent the other day for her father, and said, ’I understand you have a daughter to marry; I would have her for my bride:  will not you consent?’ The vizier, who did not expect this proposal, was troubled, and instead of accepting it joyfully, which another in his place would certainly have done, he answered the sultan:  ’May it please your majesty, I am not worthy of the honour you would confer upon me, and I most humbly beseech you to pardon me, if I do not accede to your request.  You know I had a brother, who had the honour, as well as myself, to be one of your viziers:  we had some difference together, which was the cause of his leaving me suddenly.  Since that time I have had no account of him till within these four days, that I heard he died at Bussorah, being grand vizier to the sultan of that kingdom.

“’He has left a son, and there having been an agreement between us to match our children together, I am persuaded he intended that match when he died; and being desirous to fulfil the promise on my part, I conjure your majesty to grant me permission.’

“The sultan of Egypt, provoked at this denial of his vizier said to him in anger which he could not restrain:  ’Is this the way in which you requite my condescension in stooping so low as to desire your alliance?  I know how to revenge your presumption in daring to prefer another to me, and I swear that your daughter shall be married to the most contemptible and ugly of my slaves.’  Having thus spoken, he angrily commanded the vizier to quit his presence.  The vizier retired to his palace full of confusion, and overwhelmed in despair.

“This very day the sultan sent for one of his grooms, who is hump-backed, big-bellied, crook legged, and as ugly as a hobgoblin; and after having commanded the vizier to marry his daughter to this ghastly slave, he caused the contract to be made and signed by witnesses in his own presence.  The preparations for this fantastical wedding are all ready, and this very moment all the slaves belonging to the lords of the court of Egypt are waiting at the door of a bath, each with a flambeau in his hand, for the crook-back groom, who is bathing, to go along with them to his bride, who is already dressed to receive him; and when I departed from Cairo, the ladies met for that purpose were going to conduct her in her nuptial attire to the hall, where she is to receive her hump-backed bridegroom, and is this minute expecting him.  I have seen her, and do assure you, that no person can behold her without admiration.”

When the perie left off speaking, the genie said to her, “Whatever you think or say, I cannot be persuaded that the girl’s beauty exceeds that of this young man.”  “I will not dispute it with you,” answered the perie; “for I must confess he deserves to be married to that charming creature, whom they design for hump-back; and I think it were a deed worthy of us to obstruct the sultan of Egypt’s injustice, and put this young gentleman in the room of the slave.”  “You are in the right,” answered the genie; “I am extremely obliged to you for so good a thought; let us deceive him.  I consent to your revenge upon the sultan of Egypt; let us comfort a distressed father, and make his daughter as happy as she thinks herself miserable.  I will do my utmost endeavours to make this project succeed, and I am persuaded you will not be backward.  I will be at the pains to carry him to Cairo before he awakes, and afterwards leave it to your care to carry him elsewhere, when we have accomplished our design.”

The perie and the genie having thus concerted what they had to do, the genie lifted up Buddir ad Deen Houssun gently, and with an inconceivable swiftness conveyed him through the air and set him down at the door of a building next to the bath, whence hump-back was to come with a train of slaves that waited for him.  Buddir ad Deen awoke, and was naturally alarmed at finding himself in the middle of a city he knew not; he was going to cry out, but the genie touched him gently on the shoulder, and forbad him to speak.  He then put a torch in his hand, saying, “Go, and mix with the crowd at the door of the bath; follow them till you come into a hall, where they are going to celebrate a marriage.  The bridegroom is a hump-backed fellow, and by that you will easily know him.  Put yourself at the right hand as you go in, open the purse of sequins you have in your bosom, distribute them among the musicians and dancers as they go along; and when you are got into the hall, give money also to the female slaves you see about the bride; but every time you put your hand in your purse, be sure to take out a whole handful, and do not spare them.  Observe to do everything exactly as I have desired you; be not afraid of any person, and leave the rest to a superior power, who will order matters as he thinks fit.”

Buddir ad Deen, being well instructed in all that he was to do, advanced towards the door of the bath.  The first thing he did was to light his torch at that of a slave; and then mixing among them as if he belonged to some noblemen of Cairo, he marched along as they did, and followed humpback, who came out of the bath, and mounted a horse from the sultan’s own stable.

Buddir ad Deen coming near to the musicians, and men and women dancers, who went just before the bridegroom, pulled out time after time whole handfuls of sequins, which he distributed among them:  and as he thus gave his money with an unparalleled grace and engaging mien, all who received it fixed their eyes upon him; and after they had a full view of his face, they found him so handsome that they could not withdraw their attention.

At last they came to the gates of the vizier who little thought his nephew was so near.  The doorkeepers, to prevent any disorder, kept back all the slaves that carried torches, and would not admit them.  Buddir ad Deen was likewise refused; but the musicians, who had free entrance, stood still, and protested they would not go in, if they hindered him from accompanying them.  “He is not one of the slaves’” said they; “look upon him, and you will soon be satisfied.  He is certainly a young stranger, who is curious to see the ceremonies observed at marriages in this city;” and saying thus, they put him in the midst of them, and carried him with them in spite of the porters.  They took his torch out of his hand, gave it to the first they met, and having brought him into the hall, placed him at the right hand of the hump-backed bridegroom, who sat near the vizier’s daughter on a throne most richly adorned.

She appeared very lovely, but in her face there was nothing to be seen but vexation and grief.  The cause of this was easily to be guessed, when she had by her side a bridegroom so very deformed, and so unworthy of her love.  The nuptial seat was in the midst of an estrade.  The ladies of the emirs, viziers, those of the sultan’s bed-chamber, and several other ladies of the court and city, were placed on each side, a little lower, every one according to her rank, and richly dressed, holding a large wax taper in her hands.

When they saw Buddir ad Deen Houssun, all fixed their eyes upon him, and admiring his shape, his behaviour, and the beauty of his face, they could not forbear looking upon him.  When he was seated every one deft their seats, came near him to have a full view of his face, and all found themselves moved with love and admiration.

The disparity between Buddir ad Deen Houssun and the hump-backed groom, who made such a contemptible figure, occasioned great murmuring among the company; insomuch that the ladies cried out, “We must give our bride to this handsome young gentleman, and not to this ugly humpback.”  Nor did they rest here, but uttered imprecations against the sultan, who, abusing his absolute power, would unite ugliness and beauty together.  They also mocked the bridegroom, so as to put him out of countenance, to the great satisfaction of the spectators, whose shouts for some time put a stop to the concert of music in the hall.  At last the musicians began again, and the women who had dressed the bride surrounded her.

Each time that the bride retired to change her dress, she on her return passed by hump-back without giving him one look, and went towards Buddir ad Deen, before whom she presented herself in her new attire.  On this occasion, Buddir ad Deen, according to the instructions given him by the genie, failed not to put his hands in his purse, and pulled out handfuls of sequins, which he distributed among the women that followed the bride.  Nor did he forget the players and dancers, but also threw money to them.  It was pleasant to see how they pushed one another to gather it up.  They shewed themselves thankful for his liberality.

When the ceremony of changing habits was passed, the music ceased and the company retired.  The bride repaired to the nuptial chamber, whither her attendants followed to undress her, and none remained in the hall but the hump-back groom, Buddir ad Deen, and some of the domestics.

Hump-back, who was enraged at Buddir ad Deen, suspecting him to be his rival, gave him a cross look, and said, “And thou, what dost thou wait for?  Why art thou not gone as well as the rest?  Depart!” Buddir ad Deen having no pretence to stay, withdrew, not knowing what to do with himself.  But before he got out of the vestibule, the genie and the perie met and stopped him.  “Whither are you going?” said the perie; “stay, hump-back is not in the hall, return, and introduce yourself into the bride’s chamber.  As soon as you are alone with her, tell her boldly that you are her husband, that the sultan’s intention was only to make sport with the groom.  In the mean time we will take care that the hump-back shall not return, and let nothing hinder your passing the night with your bride, for she is yours and not his.”

While the perie thus encouraged Buddir ad Deen, and instructed him how he should behave himself, hump-back had really gone out of the room for a moment.  The genie went to him in the shape of a monstrous cat, mewing at a most fearful rate.  Hump-back called to the cat, he clapped his hands to drive her away, but instead of retreating, she stood upon her hinder feet, staring with her eyes like fire, looking fiercely at him, mewing louder than she did at first, and increasing in size till she was as large as an ass.  At this sight, hump-back would have cried out for help, but his fear was so great, that he stood gaping and could not utter one word.  That he might have no time to recover, the genie changed himself immediately into a large buffalo, and in this stripe called to him, with a voice that redoubled his fear, “Thou hump-backed villain!” At these words the affrighted groom cast himself upon the ground, and covering his face with his vest, that he might not see this dreadful beast, “Sovereign prince of buffaloes,” said he, “what is it you want of me?” “Woe be to thee,” replied the genie, “hast thou the presumption to venture to marry my mistress?” “O my lord,” said hump-back, “I pray you to pardon me, if I am guilty, it is through ignorance.  I did not know that this lady had a buffalo to her sweetheart:  command me in anything you please, I give you my oath that I am ready to obey you.”  “By death,” replied the genie; “if thou goest out from hence, or speakest a word till the sun rises, I will crush thy head to pieces.  I warn thee to obey, for if thou hast the impudence to return, it shall cost thee thy life.”  When the genie had done speaking, he transformed himself into the shape of a man, took hump-back by the legs, and after having set him against the wall with his head downwards, “If thou stir,” said he, “before the sun rise, as I have told thee already, I will take thee by the heels again, and dash thy head in a thousand pieces against the wall.”

To return to Buddir ad Deen.  Prompted by the genie and the presence of the perie, he returned to the hall, from whence he slips into the bride-chamber, where he sat down, expecting the success of his adventure.  After a while the bride arrived, conducted by an old matron, who came no farther than the door, without looking in to see whether it were hump-back or another that was there, and then retired.

The beautiful bride was agreeably surprised to find instead of hump-back a handsome youth, who gracefully addressed her.  “What! my dear friend,” said she, “by your being here at this time of night you must be my husband’s comrade?” “No, madam,” said Buddir ad Deen, “I am of another quality than that ugly hump-back.”  “But,” said she, “you do not consider that you speak degradingly of my husband.”  “He your husband,” replied he:  “can you retain those thoughts so long?  Be convinced of your mistake, for so much beauty must never be sacrificed to the most contemptible of mankind.  It is I that am the happy mortal for whom it is reserved.  The sultan had a mind to make himself merry, by putting this trick upon the vizier your father, but he chose me to be your real husband.  You might have observed how the ladies, the musicians, the dancers, your women, and all the servants of your family, were pleased with this comedy.  We have sent hump-back to his stable again.”

At this discourse the vizier’s daughter (who was more like one dead than alive when she came into the bride-chamber) put on a gay air, which made her so handsome, that Buddir ad Deen was charmed with her graces.

“I did not expect,” said she, “to meet with so pleasing a surprise; and I had condemned myself to live unhappy all my days.  But my good fortune is so much the greater, that I possess in you a man worthy of my tenderest affection.”

Buddir ad Deen, overjoyed to see himself possessor of so many charms, retired with his bride, and laid his vesture aside, with the bag that he had from the Jew; which, notwithstanding all the money he had dispersed, was still full.

Towards morning, while the two lovers were asleep, the genie, who had met again with the perie, said, “It is time to finish what we have so successfully carried on; let us not be overtaken by day-light, which will soon appear; go you and bring off the young man again without awaking him.”

The perie went into the bed-chamber where the two lovers were fast asleep, took up Buddir ad Deen in his under vest and drawers; and in company with the genie with wonderful swiftness fled away with him to the gates of Damascus in Syria, where they arrived just at the time when the officers of the mosques, appointed for that end, were calling the people to prayers at break of day.  The perie laid Buddir ad Deen softly on the ground, close by the gate, and departed with the genie.

The gate of the city being opened, and many people assembled, they were surprised to see a youth lying in his shirt and drawers upon the ground.  One said, “He has been hard put to it to get away from his mistress, that he could not get time to put on his clothes.”  “Look,” said another, “how people expose themselves; sure enough he has spent most part of the night in drinking with his friends, till he has got drunk, and then, perhaps, having occasion to go out, instead of returning, is come this length, and not having his senses about him, was overtaken with sleep.”  Others were of another opinion; but nobody could guess what had been the real occasion of his coming thither.

A small puff of wind happening to blow at this time, uncovered his breast, which was whiter than snow.  Every one being struck with admiration at the fineness of his complexion, they spoke so loud that they awaked him.

His surprise was as great as theirs, when he found himself at the gate of a city where he had never been before, and encompassed by a crowd of people gazing at him.  “Inform me,” said he, “for God’s sake, where I am, and what you would have?” One of the crowd spoke to him saying, “Young man, the gates of the city were just now opened, and as we came out we found you lying here in this condition:  have you lain here all night? and do not you know that you are at one of the gates of Damascus?” “At one of the gates of Damascus!” answered Buddir ad Deen, “surely you mock me.  When I lay down to sleep last night I was at Cairo.”  When he had said this, some of the people, moved with compassion for him, exclaimed, “It is a pity that such a handsome young man should have lost his senses;” and so went away.

“My son,” said an old man to him, “you know not what you say.  How is it possible that you, being this morning at Damascus, could be last night at Cairo?” “It is true,” said Buddir ad Deen, “and I swear to you, that I was all day yesterday at Bussorah.”  He had no sooner said this than all the people fell into a fit of laughter, and cried out, “He’s a fool, he’s a madman.”  There were some, however, that pitied him because of his youth; and one among the company said to him, “My son, you must certainly be crazed, you do not consider what you say.  Is it possible that a man could yesterday be at Bussorah, the same night at Cairo, and this morning at Damascus?  Surely you are asleep still, come rouse up your spirits.”  “What I say,” answered Buddir ad Deen Houssun, “is so true that last night I was married in the city of Cairo.”  All those who laughed before, could not forbear again at this declaration.  “Recollect yourself,” said the same person who spoke before; “you must have dreamt all this, and the fancy still possesses your brain.”  “I am sensible of what I say,” answered the young man.  “Pray can you tell me how it was possible for me to go in a dream to Cairo, where I am very certain I was in person, and where my bride was seven times brought before me, each time dressed in a different habit, and where I saw an ugly hump backed fellow, to whom they intended to give her?  Besides, I want to know what is become of my vest, my turban, and the bag of sequins I had at Cairo?”

Though he assured them that all these things were matters of fact, yet they could not forbear to laugh at him:  which put him into such confusion, that he knew not what to think of all those adventures.

After Buddir ad Deen Houssun had confidently affirmed all that he said to be true, he rose up to go into the town, and every one who followed him called out, “A madman, a fool.”  Upon this some looked out at their windows, some came to their doors, and others joined with those that were about him, calling out as they did, “A madman;” but not knowing for what.  In this perplexity the affrighted young man happened to come before a pastry-cook’s shop, and went into it to avoid the rabble.

This pastry-cook had formerly been captain to a troop of Arabian robbers, who plundered the caravans; and though he was become a citizen of Damascus, where he behaved himself to every one’s satisfaction, yet he was dreaded by all who knew him; wherefore, as soon as he came out to the rabble who followed Buddir ad Deen, they dispersed.

The pastry-cook asked him who he was, and what brought him thither.  Buddir ad Deen told him all, not concealing his birth, nor the death of his father the grand vizier.  He afterwards gave him an account why he had left Bussorah; how, after he had fallen asleep the night following upon his father’s tomb, he found himself when he awoke at Cairo, where he had married a lady; and at last, in what amazement he was, when he found himself at Damascus, without being able to penetrate into all those wonderful adventures.

“Your history is one of the most surprising,” said the pastry-cook; “but if you will follow my advice, you will let no man know those matters you have revealed to me, but patiently wait till heaven thinks fit to put an end to your misfortunes.  You shall be welcome to stay with me till then; and as I have no children, I will own you for my son, if you consent; after you are so adopted, you may freely walk the city, without being exposed any more to the insults of the rabble.”

Though this adoption was below the son of a grand vizier, Buddir ad Deen was glad to accept of the pastry-cook’s proposal, judging it the best thing he could do, considering his circumstances.  The cook clothed him, called for witnesses, and went before a notary, where he acknowledged him for his son.  After this, Buddir ad Deen lived with him under the name of Houssun, and learned the pastry-trade.

While this passed at Damascus, the daughter of Shumse ad Deen awoke, and finding Buddir ad Deen gone, supposed he had risen softly for fear of disturbing her, but would soon return.  As she was in expectation of him, her father the vizier, (who was vexed at the affront put upon him by the sultan) came and knocked at her chamber-door, to bewail her sad destiny.  He called her by her name, and she knowing him by his voice, immediately got up, and opened the door.  She kissed his hand, and received him with so much pleasure in her countenance, that she surprised the vizier who expected to find her drowned in tears, and as much grieved as himself.  “Unhappy wretch!” said he in a passion, “do you appear before me thus? after the hideous sacrifice you have just consummated, can you see me with so much satisfaction?”

The new bride seeing her father angry at her pleasant countenance, said to him, “For God’s sake, sir, do not reproach me wrongfully; it is not the hump-back fellow, whom I abhor more than death, it is not that monster I have married.  Every body laughed him to scorn, and put him so out of countenance, that he was forced to run away and hide himself, to make room for a noble youth, who is my real husband.”  “What fable do you tell me?” said Shumse ad Deen, roughly.  “What!  Did not crook-back lie with you tonight?” “No, sir,” said she, “it was the youth I mentioned, who has large eyes and black eyebrows.”  At these words the vizier, lost all patience, and exclaimed in anger, “Ah, wicked woman! you will make me distracted!” “It is you, father,” said she, “that put me out of my senses by your incredulity.”  “So, it is not true,” replied the vizier, “that hump-back——” “Let us talk no more of hump-back,” said she, “a curse upon hump-back.  Father, I assure you once more, that I did not bed with him, but with my dear spouse, who, I believe, is not far off.”

Shumse ad Deen went out to seek him, but, instead of seeing Buddir ad Deen, was surprised to find hump-back with his head on the ground, and his heels uppermost, as the genie had set him against the wall.  “What is the meaning of this?” said he; “who placed you thus?” Crookback, knowing it to be the vizier answered, “Alas! alas! it is you then that would marry me to the mistress of a genie in the form of a buffalo.”

Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, when he heard hump-back speak thus, thought he was raving, bade him move, and stand upon his legs.  “I will take care how I stir,” said hump-back, “unless the sun be risen.  Know, sir, that when I came last night to your palace, suddenly a black cat appeared to me, and in an instant grew as big as a buffalo.  I have not forgotten what he enjoined me, therefore you may depart, and leave me here.”  The vizier instead of going away, took him by the heels, and made him stand up, when hump-back ran off, without looking behind him; and coming to the palace presented himself to the sultan, who laughed heartily when informed how the genie had served him.

Shumse ad Deen returned to his daughter’s chamber, more astonished than before.  “My abused daughter,” said he, “can you give me no farther light in this miraculous affair?” “Sir,” replied she, “I can give you no other account than I have done already.  Here are my husband’s clothes, which he put off last night; perhaps you may find something among them that may solve your doubt.”  She then shewed him Buddir ad Deen’s turban, which he examined narrowly on all sides, saying, “I should take this to be a vizier’s turban, if it were not made after the Bussorah fashion.”  But perceiving something to be sewed between the stuff and the lining, he called for scissors, and having unripped it, found the paper which Noor ad Deen Ali had given to his son upon his deathbed, and which Buddir ad Deen Houssun had sewn in his turban for security.

Shumse ad Deen having opened the paper, knew his brother’s hand, and found this superscription, “For my son Buddir ad Deen Houssun.”  Before he could make any reflections upon it, his daughter delivered him the bag, that lay under the garments, which he likewise opened, and found it full of sequins:  for, notwithstanding all the liberality of Buddir ad Deen, it was still kept full by the genie and perie.  He read the following words upon a note in the bag:  “A thousand sequins belonging to Isaac the Jew.”  And these lines underneath, which the Jew had written, “Delivered to my lord Buddir ad Deen Houssun, for the cargo of the first of those ships that formerly belonged to the noble vizier, his father, of blessed memory, sold to me upon its arrival in this place.”  He had scarcely read these words, when he groaned heavily, and fainted away.

The vizier Shumse ad Deen being recovered from his fit by the aid of his daughter, and the women she called to her assistance; “Daughter,” said he, “do not alarm yourself at this accident, occasioned by what is scarcely credible.  Your bridegroom is your cousin, the son of my beloved and deceased brother.  The thousand sequins in the bag reminds me of a quarrel I had with him, and is without the dowry he gives you.  God be praised for all things, and particularly for this miraculous adventure, which demonstrates his almighty power.”  Then looking again upon his brother’s writing, he kissed it several times, shedding abundance of tears.

He looked over the book from beginning to end.  In it he found the date of his brother’s arrival at Bussorah, of his marriage, and of the birth of his son; and when he compared them with the day of his own marriage, and the birth of his daughter at Cairo, he wondered at the exact coincidence which appeared in every circumstance.

The happy discovery put him into such a transport of joy, that he took the book, with the ticket of the bag, and shewed them to the sultan, who pardoned what was past, and was so much pleased with the relation of this adventure, that he caused it with all its circumstances to be put in writing for the information of posterity.

Meanwhile, the vizier.  Shumse ad Deen could not comprehend the reason why his nephew did not appear; he expected him every moment, and was impatient to receive him to his arms.  After he had waited seven days in vain, he searched through all Cairo, but could procure no intelligence of him, which threw him into great perplexity.  “This is the strangest occurrence,” said he, “that ever happened.”  In order to certify it, he thought fit to draw up in writing with his own hand an account of the manner in which the wedding had been solemnized; how the hall and his daughter’s bed-chamber were furnished, with the other circumstances.  He likewise made the turban, the bag, and the rest of Buddir ad Deen’s raiment into a bundle, and locked them up.

After some days were past, the vizier’s daughter perceived herself pregnant, and after nine months was brought to bed of a son.  A nurse was provided for the child, besides other women and slaves to wait upon him; and his grandfather called him Agib.

When young Agib had attained the age of seven, the vizier, instead of teaching him to read at home, put him to school with a master who was in great esteem; and two slaves were ordered to wait upon him.  Agib used to play with his schoolfellows, and as they were all inferior to him in rank, they shewed him great respect, according to the example of their master, who many times would pass by faults in him that he would correct in his other pupils.  This indulgence spoiled Agib; he became proud and insolent, would have his play-fellows bear all from him, and would submit to nothing from them, but be master every where; and if any took the liberty to thwart him, he would call them a thousand names, and many times beat them.

In short, all the scholars grew weary of his insolence, and complained of him to their master.  He answered, “That they must have patience.”  But when he saw that Agib grew still more and more overbearing, and occasioned him much trouble, “Children,” said he to his scholars, “I find Agib is a little insolent gentleman; I will shew you how to mortify him, so that he shall never torment you any more.  Nay, I believe it will make him leave the school.  When he comes again to-morrow, place yourselves round him, and let one of you call out, ’Come, let us play, but upon condition, that every one who desires to play shall tell his own name, and the names of his father and mother; they who refuse shall be esteemed bastards, and not be suffered to play in our company.’”

Next day when they were gathered together, they failed not to follow their master’s instructions.  They placed themselves round Agib, and one of them called out, “Let us begin a play, but on condition that he who cannot tell his own name, and that of his father and mother, shall not play at all.”  They all cried out, and so did Agib, “We consent.”  Then he that spoke first asked every one the question, and all fulfilled the condition except Agib, who answered, “My name is Agib, my mother is called the lady of beauty, and my father Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, vizier to the sultan.”

At these words all the children cried out, “Agib, what do you say?  That is not the name of your father, but your grandfather.”  “A curse on you,” said he in a passion.  “What! dare you say that the vizier is not my father?” “No, no,” cried they with great laughter, “he is your grandfather, and you shall not play with us.  Nay we will take care how we come into your company.”  Having spoken thus, they all left him, scoffing him, and laughing among themselves, which mortified Agib so much that he wept.

The schoolmaster who was near, and heard all that passed, came up, and speaking to Agib, said, “Agib, do not you know that the vizier is not your father, but your grandfather, and the father of your mother the lady of beauty?  We know not the name of your father any more than you do.  We only know that the sultan was going to marry your mother to one of his grooms, a humpback fellow; but a genie lay with her.  This is hard upon you, but ought to teach you to treat your schoolfellows with less haughtiness.”

Agib being nettled at this, ran hastily out of the school.  He went directly sobbing to his mother’s chamber, who being alarmed to see him thus grieved, asked the reason.  He could not answer for tears, so great was his mortification, and it was long ere he could speak plain enough to repeat what had been said to him, and had occasioned his sorrow.

When he came to himself.  “Mother,” said he “for the love of God be pleased to tell me who is my father?” “My son,” she replied, “Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, who every day caresses you so kindly, is your father.”  “You do not tell me truth,” returned Agib; “he is your father, and none of mine.  But whose son am I?” At this question, the lady of beauty calling to mind her wedding night, which had been succeeded by a long widowhood, began to shed tears, repining bitterly at the loss of so handsome a husband as Buddir ad Deen.

Whilst the lady of beauty and Agib were both weeping, the vizier entered, who demanded the reason of their sorrow.  The lady told him the shame Agib had undergone at school, which so much affected the vizier that he joined his tears with theirs, and judging from this that the misfortune which had happened to his daughter was the common discourse of the town, he was mortified to the quick.

Being thus afflicted, he went to the sultan’s palace, and falling prostrate at his feet, most humbly intreated permission to make a journey in search of his nephew Buddir ad Deen Houssun.  For he could not bear any longer that the people of the city should believe a genie had disgraced his daughter.

The sultan was much concerned at the vizier’s affliction, approved his resolution, and gave him leave to travel.  He caused a passport also to be written for him, requesting in the strongest terms all kings and princes in whose dominions Buddir ad Deen might sojourn, to grant that the vizier might conduct him to Cairo.

Shumse ad Deen, not knowing how to express his gratitude to the sultan, fell down before him a second time, while the floods of tears he shed bore sufficient testimony to his feelings.  At last, having wished the sultan all manner of prosperity, he took his leave and returned to his house, where he disposed every thing for his journey; and the preparations were carried on with so much diligence, that in four days after he left the city, accompanied with his daughter the lady of beauty, and his grandson Agib.

They travelled nineteen days without intermission; but on the twentieth, arriving at a pleasant mead, a small distance from the gate of Damascus, they halted, and pitched their tents upon the banks of a river which fertilizes the vicinity, and runs through the town, one of the pleasantest in Syria, once the capital of the caliphs; and celebrated for its elegant buildings, the politeness of its inhabitants, and the abundance of its conveniences.

The vizier declared he would stay in that pleasant place two days, and pursue his journey on the third.  In the mean time he gave his retinue leave to go to Damascus; and almost all of them made use of it:  some influenced by curiosity to see a city they had heard so much of, and others by the opportunity of vending the Egyptian goods they had brought with them, or buying stuffs, and the rarities of the country.  The beautiful lady desiring her son Agib might share in the satisfaction of viewing that celebrated city, ordered the black eunuch, who acted in quality of his governor, to conduct him thither.

Agib, in magnificent apparel, went with the eunuch, who had a large cane in his hand.  They had no sooner entered the city, than Agib, fair and glorious as the day, attracted the eyes of the people.  Some got out of their houses to gain a nearer and narrower view of him; others put their heads out of the windows, and those who passed along the street were not satisfied in stopping to look upon him, but kept pace with him, to prolong the pleasure of the agreeable sight:  in fine, there was not a person that did not admire him, and bestow a thousand benedictions on the father and mother that had given being to so fine a child.  By chance the eunuch and he passed by the shop of Buddir ad Deen Houssun, and there the crowd was so great, that they were forced to halt.

The pastry-cook who had adopted Buddir ad Deen Houssun had died some years before, and left him his shop and all his property, and he conducted the pastry trade so dexterously, that he had gained great reputation in Damascus.  Buddir ad Deen seeing so great a crowd before his door, who were gazing so attentively upon Agib and the black eunuch, stepped out to see them himself.

Having cast his eyes upon Agib, Buddir ad Deen found himself moved, he knew not how, nor for what reason.  He was not struck like the people with the brilliant beauty of the boy; another cause unknown to him gave rise to the uneasiness and emotion he felt.  It was the force of blood that wrought in this tender father; who, laying aside his business, made up to Agib, and with an engaging air, said to him:  “My little lord, who hast won my soul, be so kind as to come into my shop, and eat a bit of such fare as I have; that I may have the pleasure of admiring you at my ease.”  These words he pronounced with such tenderness, that tears trickled from his eyes.  Little Agib was moved when he saw his emotion; and turning to the eunuch, said, “This honest man speaks in such an affectionate manner, that I cannot avoid complying with his request; let us step into his house, and taste his pastry.”  “It would be a fine thing truly,” replied the slave, “to see the son of a vizier go into a pastry-cook’s shop to eat; do not imagine that I will suffer any such thing.”  “Alas! my lord,” cried Buddir ad Deen, “it is cruelty to trust the conduct of you in the hands of a person who treats you so harshly.”  Then applying himself to the eunuch, “My good friend,” continued he, “pray do not hinder this young lord from granting me the favour I ask; do not put such mortification upon me:  rather do me the honour to walk in along with him, and by so doing, you will let the world know, that, though your outside is brown like a chestnut, your inside is as white.  Do you know,” continued he, “that I am master of the secret to make you white, instead of being black as you are?” This set the eunuch a laughing, and then he asked what that secret was.  “I will tell you,” replied Buddir ad Deen, who repeated some verses in praise of black eunuchs, implying, that it was by their ministry that the honour of princes and of all great men was secured.  The eunuch was so charmed with these verses, that, without further hesitation, he suffered Agib to go into the shop, and went in with him himself.

Buddir ad Deen Houssun was overjoyed at having obtained what he had so passionately desired, and, falling again to the work he had discontinued “I was making,” said he, “cream-tarts; and you must, with submission, eat of them.  I am persuaded you will find them good; for my own mother, who made them incomparably well, taught me, and the people send to buy them of me from all quarters of the town.”  This said, he took a cream-tart out of the oven, and after strewing upon it some pomegranate kernels and sugar, set it before Agib, who found it very delicious.

Another was served up to the eunuch, and he gave the same judgment.

While they were both eating, Buddir ad Deen viewed Agib very attentively; and after looking upon him again and again, it came into his mind that possibly he might have such a son by his charming wife, from whom he had been so soon and so cruelly separated; and the very thought drew tears from his eyes.  He intended to have put some questions to little Agib about his journey to Damascus; but the child had no time to gratify his curiosity, for the eunuch pressing him to return to his grandfather’s tent, took him away as soon as he had done eating.  Buddir ad Deen Houssun, not contented with looking after him, shut up his shop immediately, and followed him.

Buddir ad Deen Houssun ran after Agib and the eunuch, and overtook them before they had reached the gate of the city.  The eunuch perceiving he followed them, was extremely surprised:  “You impertinent fellow,” said he, with an angry tone, “what do you want?” “My dear friend,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “do not trouble yourself; I have a little business out of town, and I must needs go and look after it.”  This answer, however, did not at all satisfy the eunuch, who turning to Agib, said, “This is all owing to you; I foresaw I should repent of my complaisance; you would needs go into the man’s shop; it was not wisely done in me to give you leave.”  “Perhaps,” replied Agib, “he has real business out of town, and the road is free to every body.”  While this passed they kept walking together, without looking behind them, till they came near the vizier’s tents, upon which they turned about to see if Buddir ad Deen followed them.  Agib, perceiving he was within two paces of him, reddened and whitened alternately, according to the different emotions that affected him.  He was afraid the grand vizier his grandfather should come to know he had been in the pastry shop, and had eaten there.  In this dread, he took up a large stone that lay at his foot and throwing it at Buddir ad Deen, hit him in the forehead, and wounded him so that his face was covered with blood.  The eunuch gave Buddir ad Deen to understand, he had no reason to complain of a mischance that he had merited and brought upon himself.

Buddir ad Deen turned towards the city staunching the blood of the wound with his apron, which he had not put off.  “I was a fool,” said he within himself, “for leaving my house, to take so much pains about this brat; for doubtless he would never have used me after this manner, if he had not thought I had some ill design against him.”  When he got home, he had his wound dressed, and softened the sense of his mischance by the reflection that there was an infinite number of people upon the earth, who were yet more unfortunate than he.

Buddir ad Deen kept on the pastry-trade at Damascus, and his uncle Shumse ad Deen Mahummud went from thence three days after his arrival.  He went by way of Emaus, Hanah, and Halep; then crossed the Euphrates, and after passing through Mardin, Moussoul, Singier, Diarbeker, and several other towns, arrived at last at Bussorah.  Immediately after his arrival he desired audience of the sultan, who was no sooner informed of his quality than he admitted him to his presence, received him very favourably, and inquired the occasion of his journey to Bussorah.  “Sire,” replied the vizier “I come to know what is become of the son of my brother, who has had the honour to serve your majesty.”  “Noor ad Deen Ali,” said the sultan, “has been long dead; as for his son, all I can tell you of him is, that he disappeared suddenly, about two months after his father’s death, and nobody has seen him since, notwithstanding all the inquiry I ordered to be made.  But his mother, who is the daughter of one of my viziers, is still alive.”  Shumse ad Deen Mahummud desired leave of the sultan to take her to Egypt; and having obtained permission, without waiting till the next day, inquired after her place of abode, and that very hour went to her house, accompanied with his daughter and his grandson.

The widow of Noor ad Deen Ali resided still in the same place where her husband had lived.  It was a stately fabric, adorned with marble pillars:  but Shumse ad Deen did not stop to view it.  At his entry he kissed the gate, and the piece of marble upon which his brother’s name was written in letters of gold.  He asked to speak with his sister-in-law, and was told by her servants, that she was in a small building covered by a dome, to which they directed in the middle of a very spacious court.  This tender mother used to spend the greatest part of the day and night in that room which she had built as a representation of the tomb of her son Buddir ad Deen Houssun, whom she supposed to be dead after so long an absence.  She was pouring tears over his memorial when Shumse ad Deen entering, found her buried in the deepest affliction.

He made his compliment, and after beseeching her to suspend her tears and sighs, informed her he had the honour to be her brother-in-law, and acquainted her with the reason of his journey from Cairo to Bussorah.

Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, after acquainting his sister-in-law with all that had passed at Cairo on his daughter’s wedding-night, and informing her of the surprise occasioned by the discovery of the paper sewed up in Buddir ad Deen’s turban, presented to her Agib and the beautiful lady.

The widow of Noor ad Deen, who had still continued sitting like a woman dejected, and weaned from the affairs of this world, no sooner understood by his discourse that her dear son, whom she lamented so bitterly, might still be alive, than she arose, and repeatedly embraced the beautiful lady and her grandchild Agib; and perceiving in the youth the features of Buddir ad Deen, drops tears different from what she had been so long accustomed to shed.  She could not forbear kissing the youth, who, for his part, received her embraces with all the demonstrations of joy he was capable of shewing.  “Sister,” said Shumse ad Deen, “it is time to dry your tears, and suppress your sighs; you must think of going with us to Egypt.  The sultan of Bussorah gives me leave to carry you thither, and I doubt not you will consent.  I am in hopes we shall at last find out your son my nephew; and if we do, the history of him, of you, of my own daughter, and of my own adventures, will deserve to be committed to writing, and transmitted to posterity.”

The widow of Noor ad Deen heard this proposal with pleasure, and ordered preparations to be made for her departure.  While they were making, Shumse ad Deen desired a second audience, and after taking leave of the sultan, who dismissed him with ample marks of respect, and gave him a considerable present for himself, and another of great value for the sultan of Egypt, he set out from Bussorah once more for the city of Damascus.

When he arrived in the neighbourhood of Damascus, he ordered his tents to be pitched without the gate, at which he designed to enter the city; and gave out he would tarry there three days, to give his suit rest, and buy up curiosities to present to the sultan of Egypt.

While he was employed in selecting the finest stuffs which the principal merchants had brought to his tents, Agib begged the black eunuch his governor to carry him through the city, in order to see what he had not had leisure to view before; and to inquire what was become of the pastry cook whom he had wounded.  The eunuch complying with his request, went along with him towards the city, after leave obtained of the beautiful lady his mother.

They entered Damascus by the Paradise-gate, which lay next to the tents of the vizier They walked through the great squares and the public places where the richest goods were sold, and took a view of the superb mosque at the hour of prayer, between noon and sun-set.  When they passed by the shop of Buddir ad Deen Houssun, whom they still found employed in making cream tarts, “I salute you sir,” said Agib; “do you know me?  Do you remember you ever saw me before?” Buddir ad Deen hearing these words, fixed his eyes upon him, and recognizing him (such was the surprising effect of paternal love!), felt the same emotion as when he saw him first; he was confused, and instead of making any answer, continued a long time without uttering a word.  At length, recovering himself, “My lord,” said he, “be so kind as to come once more with your governor into my house, and taste a cream-tart.  I beg your lordship’s pardon, for the trouble I gave you in following you out of town; I was at that time not myself, I did not know what I did.  You drew me after you, and the violence of the attraction was so soft, that I could not withstand it.”

Agib, astonished at what Buddir ad Deen said, replied:  “There is an excess in the kindness you express, and unless you engage under oath not to follow me when I go from hence, I will not enter your house.  If you give me your promise, and prove a man of your word, I will visit you again to-morrow, since the vizier my grandfather, is still employed in buying up rarities for a present to the sultan of Egypt.”  “My lord,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “I will do whatever you would have me.”  This said, Agib and the eunuch went into the shop.

Presently after, Buddir ad Deen set before them a cream-tart, that was full as good as what they had eaten before; “Come,” said Agib, “sit down by me, and eat with us.”  Buddir ad Deen sat down, and attempted to embrace Agib, as a testimony of the joy he conceived upon sitting by him.  But Agib pushed him away, desiring him not to be too familiar.  Buddir ad Deen obeyed, and repeated some extempore verses in praise of Agib:  he did not eat, but made it his business to serve his guests.  When they had done, he brought them water to wash, and a very white napkin to wipe their hands.  Then he filled a large china cup with sherbet, and put snow into it; and offering it to Agib, “This,” said he, “is sherbet of roses; and I am sure you never tasted better.”  Agib having drunk of it with pleasure, Buddir ad Deen took the cup from him, and presented it to the eunuch, who drank it all off at once.

In fine, Agib and his governor having fared well, returned thanks to the pastry-cook for their good entertainment, and moved homewards, it being then late.  When they arrived at the tents of Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, Agib’s grandmother received him with transports of joy:  her son ran always in her mind, and in embracing Agib, the remembrance of him drew tears from her eyes.  “Ah, my child!” said she, “my joy would be perfect, if I had the pleasure of embracing your father as I now embrace you.”  She made Agib sit by her, and put several questions to him, relating to the walk he had been taking with the eunuch; and when he complained of being hungry, she gave him a piece of cream-tart, which she had made for herself, and was indeed very good:  she likewise gave some to the eunuch.

Agib no sooner touched the piece of cream-tart that had been set before him, than he pretended he did not like it, and left it uncut; and Shubbaunee (which was the eunuch’s name) did the same.  The widow of Noor ad Deen Ali observed with regret that her grandson did not like the tart.  “What!” said she, “does my child thus despise the work of my hands?  Be it known to you, no one in the world can make such besides myself and your father, whom I taught.”  “My good mother,” replied Agib, “give me leave to tell you, if you do not know how to make better, there is a pastry-cook in this town that outdoes you.  We were at his shop, and ate of one much better than yours.”

On hearing this, the grandmother, frowning upon the eunuch, said, “How now, Shubbaunee, was the care of my grandchild committed to you, to carry him to eat at pastry-shops like a beggar?” “Madam,” replied the eunuch, “it is true, we did stop a little while and talked with the pastry-cook, but we did not eat with him.”  “Pardon me,” said Agib, “we went into his shop, and there ate a cream-tart.”  Upon this, the lady, more incensed against the eunuch than before, rose in a passion from the table, and running to the tent of Shumse ad Deen, informed him of the eunuch’s crime; and that in such terms, as tended more to inflame the vizier than to dispose him to excuse it.

The vizier who was naturally passionate, did not fail on this occasion to display his anger.  He went forthwith to his sister-in-law’s tent, and said to the eunuch, “Wretch, have you the impudence to abuse the trust I repose in you?” Shubbaunee, though sufficiently convicted by Agib’s testimony, denied the fact still.  But the child persisting in what he had affirmed, “Grandfather,” said he, “I can assure you we not only ate, but that so very heartily, that we have no occasion for supper:  besides, the pastry-cook treated us also with a great bowl of sherbet.”  “Well,” cried Shumse ad Deen, “after all this, will you continue to deny that you entered the pastry-cook’s house, and ate there?” Shubbaunee had still the impudence to swear it was not true.  “Then you are a liar,” said the vizier “I believe my grandchild; but after all, if you can eat up this cream-tart I shall be persuaded you have truth on your side.”

Though Shubbaunee had crammed himself up to the throat before, he agreed to stand that test, and accordingly took a piece of tart; but his stomach rising against it, he was obliged to spit it out of his mouth.  Yet he still pursued the lie, and pretended he had over-eaten himself the day before, and had not recovered his appetite.  The vizier irritated with all the eunuch’s frivolous presences, and convinced of his guilt, ordered him to be soundly bastinadoed.  In undergoing this punishment, the poor wretch shrieked out aloud, and at last confessed the truth; “I own,” cried he, “that we did eat a cream-tart at the pastry cook’s, and that it was much better than that upon the table.”

The widow of Noor ad Deen thought it was out of spite to her, and with a desire to mortify her, that Shubbaunee commended the pastry-cook’s tart; and accordingly said, “I cannot believe the cook’s tarts are better than mine; I am resolved to satisfy myself upon that head.  Where does he live?  Go immediately and buy me one of his tarts.”  The eunuch repaired to Buddir ad Deen’s shop, and said, “Let me have one of your cream-tarts; one of our ladies wants to taste them.”  Buddir ad Deen chose one of the best, and gave it to the eunuch.

Shubbaunee returned speedily to the tents, gave the tart to Noor ad Deen’s widow, who, snatching it greedily, broke a piece off; but no sooner put it to her mouth, than she cried out and swooned away.  The vizier was extremely surprised at the accident; he threw water upon her face, and was very active in recovering her.  As soon as she came to herself, “My God!” cried she, “it must needs be my son, my dear Buddir ad Deen who made this tart.”

When the vizier Shumse ad Deen heard his sister-in-law say, that the maker of the tart, brought by the eunuch, must needs be her son, he was overjoyed; but reflecting that his joy might prove groundless, and the conjecture of Noor ad Deen’s widow be false, “Madam,” said he, “do you think there may not be a pastry-cook in the world, who knows how to make cream-tarts as well as your son?” “I own,” replied she, “there may be pastry-cooks that can make as good tarts as he; but as I make them in a peculiar manner, and only my son was let into the secret, it must absolutely be he that made this.  Come, my brother,” added she in a transport, “let us call up mirth and joy; we have at last found what we have been so long looking for.”  “Madam,” said the vizier answer, “I entreat you to moderate your impatience, for we shall quickly know the truth.  All we have to do, is to bring the pastry-cook hither; and then you and my daughter will readily distinguish whether he be your son or not.  But you must both be concealed so as to have a view of Buddir ad Deen while he cannot see you; for I would not have our interview and mutual discovery happen at Damascus.  My design is to delay the discovery till we return to Cairo.”

This said, he left the ladies in their tent, and retired to his own; where he called for fifty of his men, and said to them:  “Take each of you a stick in your hands, and follow Shubbaunee, who will conduct you to a pastry-cook in this city.  When you arrive there, break and dash in pieces all you find in the shop:  if he demand the reason of your outrage, only ask him in return if it was not he that made the cream-tart that was brought from his house.  If he answer in the affirmative, seize his person, fetter him, and bring him along with you; but take care you do not beat him, nor do him the least harm.  Go, and lose no time.”

The vizier’s orders were immediately executed.  The detachment, conducted by the black eunuch, went with expedition to Buddir ad Deen’s house, broke in pieces the plates, kettles, copper pans, and all the other moveables and utensils they met with, and inundated the sherbet-shop with cream and comfits.  Buddir ad Deen, astonished at the sight, said with a pitiful tone, “Pray, good people, why do you serve me so?  What is the matter?  What have I done?” “Was it not you,” said they, “that sold this eunuch the cream-tart?” “Yes,” replied he, “I am the man; and who says any thing against it?  I defy any one to make a better.”  Instead of giving him an answer, they continued to break all round them, and the oven itself was not spared.

In the mean time the neighbours took the alarm, and surprised to see fifty armed men committing such a disorder, asked the reason of such violence; and Buddir ad Deen said once more to the rioters, “Pray tell me what crime I have committed to deserve this usage?” “Was it not you,” replied they, “that made the cream-tart you sold to the eunuch?” “Yes, yes, it was I,” replied he; “I maintain it is a good one.  I do not deserve this treatment.”  However, without listening to him, they seized his person, and, snatching the cloth off his turban, tied his hands with it behind his back, and, after dragging him by force out of his shop, marched off.

The mob gathering, from compassion to Buddir ad Deen, took his part; but officers from the governor of the city dispersed the people, and favoured the carrying off of Buddir ad Deen, for Shumse ad Deen Mahummud had in the mean time gone to the governor’s house to acquaint him with the order he had given, and to demand the interposition of force to favour the execution; and the governor, who commanded all Syria in the name of the sultan of Egypt, was unwilling to refuse any thing to his master’s vizier.

It was in vain for Buddir ad Deen to ask those who carried him off, what fault had been found with his cream-tart:  they gave him no answer.  In short, they conducted him to the tents, and made him wait there till Shumse ad Deen returned from the governor of Damascus.

Upon the vizier’s return, the pretended culprit was brought before him.  “My lord,” said Buddir ad Deen, with tears in his eyes, “pray do me the favour to let me know wherein I have displeased you.”  “Why, you wretch,” exclaimed the vizier “was it not you that made the cream-tart you sent me?” “I own I am the man,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “but pray what crime is that?” “I will punish you according to your deserts,” said Shumse ad Deen, “it shall cost you your life, for sending me such a sorry tart.”  “Ah!” exclaimed Buddir ad Deen, “is it a capital crime to make a bad cream-tart?” “Yes,” said the vizier “and you are to expect no other usage from me.”

While this interview lasted, the ladies, who were concealed behind curtains, saw Buddir ad Deen, and recognized him, notwithstanding he had been so long absent.  They were so transported with joy, that they swooned away; and when they recovered, would fain have run up and fallen upon his neck, but the promise they had made to the vizier of not discovering themselves, restrained the tender emotions of love and of nature.

Shumse ad Deen having resolved to set out that night, ordered the tents to be struck, and the necessary preparations to be made for his journey.  He ordered Buddir ad Deen to be secured in a sort of cage, and laid on a camel.  The vizier and his retinue began their march, and travelled the rest of that night, and all the next day, without stopping In the evening they halted, and Buddir ad Deen was taken out of his cage, in order to be served with the necessary refreshments, but still carefully kept at a distance from his mother and his wife; and during the whole expedition, which lasted twenty days, was served in the same manner.

When they arrived at Cairo, they encamped in the neighbourhood of the city; Shumse ad Deen called for Buddir ad Deen, and gave orders, in his presence, to prepare a stake.  “Alas!” said Buddir ad Deen, “what do you mean to do with a stake?” “Why, to impale you,” replied Shumse ad Deen, “and then to have you carried through all the quarters of the town, that the people may have the spectacle of a worthless pastry-cook, who makes cream-tarts without pepper.”  This said, Buddir ad Deen cried out so ludicrously, that Shumse ad Deen could hardly keep his countenance:  “Alas!” said he, “must I suffer a death as cruel as it is ignominious, for not putting pepper in a cream-tart?”

“How,” said Buddir ad Deen, “must I be rifled; must I be imprisoned in a chest, and at last impaled, and all for not putting pepper in a cream-tart?  Are these the actions of Moosulmauns, of persons who make a profession of probity, justice, and good works?” With these words he shed tears, and then renewing his complaint; “No,” continued he, “never was a man used so unjustly, nor so severely.  Is it possible they should be capable of taking a man’s life for not putting pepper in a cream-tart?  Cursed be all cream-tarts, as well as the hour in which I was born!  Would to God I had died that minute!”

The disconsolate Buddir ad Deen did not cease his lamentations; and when the stake was brought, cried out bitterly at the horrid sight.  “Heaven!” said he, “can you suffer me to die an ignominious and painful death?  And all this, for what crime? not for robbery or murder, or renouncing my religion, but for not putting pepper in a cream tart.”

Night being then pretty far advanced, the vizier ordered Buddir ad Deen to be conveyed again to his cage, saying to him, “Stay there till to-morrow; the day shall not elapse before I give orders for your death.”  The chest or cage then was carried away and laid upon the camel that had brought it from Damascus:  at the same time all the other camels were loaded again; and the vizier mounting his horse, ordered the camel that carried his nephew to march before him, and entered the city with all his suit.  After passing through several streets, where no one appeared, he arrived at his palace, where he ordered the chest to be taken down, but not opened till farther orders.

While his retinue were unlading the other camels, he took Buddir ad Deen’s mother and his daughter aside; and addressed himself to the latter:  “God be praised,” said he, “my child, for this happy occasion of meeting your cousin and your husband!  You remember, of course, what order your chamber was in on your wedding night:  go and put all things as they were then placed; and if your memory do not serve you, I can aid it by a written account, which I caused to be taken upon that occasion.”

The beautiful lady went joyfully to execute her father’s orders; and he at the same time commanded the hall to be adorned as when Buddir ad Deen Houssun was there with the sultan of Egypt’s hunch-backed groom.  As he went over his manuscript, his domestics placed every moveable in the described order.  The throne was not forgotten, nor the lighted wax candles.  When every thing was arranged in the hall, the vizier went into his daughter’s chamber and put in their due place Buddir ad Deen’s apparel, with the purse of sequins.  This done, he said to the beautiful lady, “Undress yourself, my child, and go to bed.  As soon as Buddir ad Deen enters your room, complain of his being from you so long, and tell him, that when you awoke, you were astonished you did not find him by you.  Press him to come to bed again; and to-morrow morning you will divert your mother-in-law and me, by giving us an account of your interview.”  This said, he went from his daughter’s apartment, and left her to undress herself and go to bed.

Shumse ad Deen Mahummud ordered all his domestics to depart the hall, excepting two or three, whom he desired to remain.  These he commanded to go and take Buddir ad Deen out of the cage, to strip him to his under vest and drawers, to conduct him in that condition to the hall, to leave him there alone, and shut the door upon him.

Buddir ad Deen, though overwhelmed with grief, was asleep so soundly, that the vizier’s domestics had taken him out of the chest and stripped him before he awoke; and they carried him so suddenly into the hall, that they did not give him time to see where he was.  When he found himself alone in the hall, he looked round him, and the objects he beheld recalling to his memory the circumstances of his marriage, he perceived, with astonishment, that it was the place where he had seen the sultan’s groom of the stables.  His surprise was still the greater, when approaching softly the door of a chamber which he found open, he spied his own raiments where he remembered to have left them on his wedding night.  “My God!” said he, rubbing his eyes, “am I asleep or awake?”

The beautiful lady, who in the mean time was diverting herself with his astonishment, opened the curtains of her bed suddenly, and bending her head forward, “My dear lord,” said she, with a soft, tender air, “what do you do at the door?  You have been out of bed a long time.  I was strangely surprised when I awoke in not finding you by me.”  Buddir ad Deen was enraptured; he entered the room, but reverting to all that had passed during a ten years’ interval, and not being able to persuade himself that it could all have happened in the compass of one night, he went to the place where his vestments lay with the purse of sequins; and after examining them very carefully, exclaimed, “By Allah these are mysteries which I can by no means comprehend!” The lady, who was pleased to see his confusion, said, once more, “My lord, what do you wait for?” He stepped towards the bed, and said to her, “Is it long since I left you?” “The question,” answered she, “surprises me.  Did not you rise from me but now?  Surely your mind is deranged.”  “Madam,” replied Buddir ad Deen, “I do assure you my thoughts are not very composed.  I remember indeed to have been with you, but I remember at the same time, that I have since lived ten years at Damascus.  Now, if I was actually in bed with you this night, I cannot have been from you so long.  These two points are inconsistent.  Pray tell me what I am to think; whether my marriage with you is an illusion, or whether my absence from you is only a dream?” “Yes, my lord,” cried she, “doubtless you were light-headed when you thought you were at Damascus.”  Upon this Buddir ad Deen laughed heartily, and said, “What a comical fancy is this!  I assure you, madam, this dream of mine will be very pleasant to you.  Do but imagine, if you please, that I was at the gate of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, as I am here now; that I entered the town with the halloo of a mob who followed and insulted me; that I fled to a pastry cook who adopted me, taught me his trade, and left me all he had when he died; that after his death I kept a shop.  In fine, I had an infinity of other adventures, too tedious to recount:  and all I can say is, that it was well that I awoke, for they were going to impale me!” “And for what,” cried the lady, feigning astonishment, “would they have used you so cruelly?  Surely you must have committed some enormous crime.”  “Not the least,” replied Buddir ad Deen; “it was for nothing but a mere trifle, the most ridiculous thing you can imagine.  All the crime I was charged with, was selling a cream-tart that had no pepper in it.”  “As for that matter,” said the beautiful lady laughing heartily, “I must say they did you great injustice.”  “Ah!” replied he, “that was not all.  For this cursed cream-tart was every thing in my shop broken to pieces, myself bound and fettered, and flung into a chest, where I lay so close, that methinks I am there still, but thanks be to God all was a dream.”

Buddir ad Deen was not easy all night.  He awoke from time to time, and put the question to himself, whether he dreamed or was awake.  He distrusted his felicity; and, to be sure whether it was true or not, looked round the room.  “I am not mistaken,” said he; “this is the same chamber where I entered instead of the hunch-backed groom of the stables; and I am now in bed with the fair lady designed for him.”  Day-light, which then appeared, had not yet dispelled his uneasiness, when the vizier Shumse ad Deen, his uncle, knocked at the door, and at the same time went in to bid him good morrow.

Buddir ad Deen was extremely surprised to see a man he knew so well, and who now appeared with a different air from that with which he pronounced the terrible sentence of death against him.  “Ah!” cried Buddir ad Deen, “it was you who condemned me so unjustly to a kind of death, the thoughts of which make me shudder, and all for a cream-tart without pepper.”  The vizier fell a laughing, and to put him out of suspense, told him how, by the ministry of a genie (for hunch-back’s relation made him suspect the adventure), he had been at his palace, and had married his daughter instead of the sultan’s groom of the stables; then he acquainted him that he had discovered him to be his nephew by the memorandum of his father, and pursuant to that discovery had gone from Cairo to Bussorah in quest of him.  “My dear nephew,” added he, embracing him with every expression of tenderness, “I ask your pardon for all I have made you undergo since I discovered you.  I resolved to bring you to my palace before I told you your happiness; which ought now to be so much the dearer to you, as it has cost you so much perplexity and distress.  To atone for all your afflictions, comfort yourself with the joy of being in the company of those who ought to be dearest to you.  While you are dressing yourself I will go and acquaint your mother, who is beyond measure impatient to see you; and will likewise bring to you your son, whom you saw at Damascus, and for whom, without knowing him, you shewed so much affection.”

No words can adequately express the joy of Buddir ad Deen, when he saw his mother and his son.  They embraced, and shewed all the transports that love and tenderness could inspire.  The mother spoke to Buddir ad Deen in the most moving terms; she mentioned the grief she had felt for his long absence, and the tears she had shed.  Little Ajib, instead of flying his father’s embraces, as at Damascus, received them with all the marks of pleasure.  And Buddir ad Deen Houssun, divided between two objects so worthy of his love, thought he could not give sufficient testimonies of his affection.

While this passed, the vizier was gone to the palace, to give the sultan an account of the happy success of his travels; and the sultan was so moved with the recital of the story, that he ordered it to be taken down in writing, and carefully preserved among the archives of the kingdom.  After Shumse ad Deen’s return to his palace, he sat down with his family, and all the household passed the day in festivity and mirth.

The vizier Jaaffier having thus concluded the story of Buddir ad Deen, told the caliph that this was what he had to relate to his majesty.  The caliph found the story so surprising, that without farther hesitation he granted his slave Rihan’s pardon; and to console the young man for the grief of having unhappily deprived himself of a woman whom he had loved so tenderly, married him to one of his slaves, bestowed liberal gifts upon him, and maintained him till he died.

The history of Ganem, son of Abou Ayoub,
and known by the surname of Love’s slave.

There was formerly at Damascus a merchant, who had by care and industry acquired great wealth, on which he lived in a very honourable manner.  His name was Abou Ayoub, and he had one son and a daughter.  The son was called Ganem, but afterwards surnamed Love’s slave.  His person was graceful, and the excellent qualities of his mind had been improved by able masters.  The daughter’s name was Alcolom, signifying Ravisher of hearts, because her beauty was so perfect that whoever saw her could not avoid loving her.

Abou Ayoub died, and left immense riches:  a hundred loads of brocades and other silks that lay in his warehouse were the least part.  The loads were ready made up, and on every bale was written in large characters, “For Bagdad.”

Mahummud, the son of Soliman, surnamed Zinebi, reigned at that time at Damascus, the capital of Syria.  His kinsman, Haroon al Rusheed, had bestowed that kingdom on him as his tributary.

Soon after the death of Abou Ayoub, Ganem conversed with his mother about their domestic affairs, and concerning the loads of merchandize in the warehouse, asked her the meaning of what was written upon each bale.  “My son,” answered his mother, “your father used to travel sometimes into one province, and sometimes into another; and it was customary with him, before he set out, to write the name of the city he designed to repair to on every bade.  He had provided all things to take a journey to Bagdad, and was on the point of setting out, when death”——She had not power to finish; the lively remembrance of the loss of her husband would not permit her to say more, and drew from her a shower of tears.

Ganem could not see his mother so sensibly affected, without being equally so himself.  They continued some time silent; but at length he recovered himself, and as soon as he found his mother calm enough to listen to him, said, “Since my father designed these goods for Bagdad, I will prepare myself to perform that journey; and I think it will be proper for me to hasten my departure, for fear those commodities should perish, or that we should lose the opportunity of selling them to the best advantage.”

Abou Ayoub’s widow, who tenderly loved her son, was much concerned at this resolution, and replied, “My dear child, I cannot but commend you for designing to follow your father’s example; but consider, that you are too young, inexperienced, and unaccustomed to the fatigue of travelling.  Besides, can you think of leaving me, and adding to that sorrow with which I am already oppressed?  Is it not better to sell those goods to the merchants of Damascus, and take up with a moderate profit, than expose yourself to the danger of perishing?”

It was in vain for her to oppose Ganem’s resolution by the strongest arguments; they had no weight with him.  An inclination to travel, and to accomplish himself by a thorough knowledge of the world, urged him to set out, and prevailed over all his mother’s remonstrances, her entreaties, and even her tears.  He went to the market where slaves were sold, and bought such as were able-bodied, hired a hundred camels, and having provided all other necessaries, entered upon his journey, with five or six merchants of Damascus, who were going to trade at Bagdad.

Those merchants, attended by their slaves, and accompanied by several other travellers, made up such a considerable caravan, that they had nothing to fear from the Bedouin Arabs, who make it their only profession to range the country; and attack and plunder the caravans when they are not strong enough to repulse them.  They had no other difficulty to encounter, than the usual fatigues of a long journey, which were easily forgotten when they came in sight of the city of Bagdad, where they arrived in safety.

They alighted at the most magnificent and most frequented khan in the city; but Ganem chose to be lodged conveniently, and by himself.  He only left his goods there in a warehouse for their greater security, and hired a spacious house in the neighbourhood, richly furnished, having a garden which was very delightful, on account of its many waterworks and shady groves.

Some days after this young merchant had been settled in his house, and perfectly recovered of the fatigue of his journey, he dressed himself richly, and repaired to the public place, where the merchants met to transact business.  A slave followed him, carrying a parcel of fine stuffs and silks.

The merchants received Ganem very courteously, and their syndic, or chief, to whom he first made application, bought all his parcel, at the price set down in the ticket annexed to every piece of stuff.  Ganem continued his trade so successfully, that he every day sold all the goods he exposed.

He had but one bale left, which he had caused to be carried from the warehouse to his own house; he then went to the public rendezvous, where he found all the shops shut.  This seemed somewhat extraordinary to him and having asked the cause, he was told, that one of the first merchants, whom he knew, was dead, and that all his brother traders were gone to his funeral.

Ganem inquired for the mosque, where prayer was to be said, and whence the body was to be conducted to the grave; and having been informed, sent back his slave with the goods, and walked towards the mosque.  He got thither before the prayers were ended, which were said in a hall hung with black satin.  The corpse was taken up, and followed by the kindred, the merchants, and Ganem, to the place of burial, which was at some distance without the city.  It was a stone structure, in form of a dome, purposely built to receive the bodies of all the family of the deceased, and being very small, they had pitched tents around, that all the company might be sheltered during the ceremony.  The monument was opened, and the corpse laid in it, after which it was shut up.  Then the imam, and other ministers of the mosque, sat down in a ring on carpets, in the largest tent, and recited the rest of the prayers.  They also read the Fateah, or introductory chapter of the Koraun, appointed for the burial of the dead.  The kindred and merchants sat round, in the same manner, behind the ministers.

It was near night before all was ended:  Ganem who had not expected such a long ceremony, began to be uneasy, and the more so, when he saw meat served up, in memory of the deceased, according to the custom of the Mahummedans.  He was also told that the tents had been set up not only against the heat of the sun, but also against the evening dew, because they should not return to the city before the next morning.  These words perplexed Ganem.  “I am a stranger,” said he to himself, “and have the reputation of being a rich merchant; thieves may take the opportunity of my absence, and rob my house.  My slaves may be tempted by so favourable an opportunity; they may run away with all the gold I have received for my goods, and whither shall I go to look for them?” Full of these thoughts, he ate a few mouthfuls hastily, and slipped away from the company.

He made all possible haste; but, as it often happens that the more a man hurries the less he advances, he went astray in the dark, so that it was near midnight when he came to the city gate; which, to add to his misfortune, was shut.  This was a fresh affliction to him, and he was obliged to look for some convenient place in which to pass the rest of the night till the gate was opened.  He went into a burial-place, so spacious, that it reached from the city to the very place he had left.  He advanced to some high walls, which enclosed a small field, being the mausoleum of a family, and in which there was a palm-tree.  Ganem, finding that the burial-place where the palm-tree grew was open, went into it, and shut the door after him.  He lay down on the grass and tried to sleep; but his uneasiness at being absent from home would not permit him.  He got up, and after having passed before the door several times, opened it, without knowing why, and immediately perceived at a distance a light, which seemed to come towards him.  He was startled at the sight, closed the door, which had nothing to secure it but a latch, and got up as fast as he could to the top of the palm-tree; looking upon that as the safest retreat under his present apprehensions.

No sooner was he up, than by the help of the light which had alarmed him, he plainly perceived three men, whom, by their habit, he knew to be slaves, enter into the burial-place.  One of them advanced with a lantern, and the two others followed him, loaded with a chest, between five and six feet long, which they carried on their shoulders.  They set it down, and then one of the three slaves said to his comrades, “Brethren, if you will be advised by me, we will leave the chest here, and return to the city.”  “No, no,” replied another, “that would not be executing our mistress’s orders; we may have cause to repent not doing as we were commanded.  Let us bury the chest, since we are enjoined so to do.”  The two other slaves complied.  They began to break ground with the tools they had brought for that purpose.  When they had made a deep trench, they put the chest into it, and covered it with the earth they had taken out, and then departed.

Ganem, who from the top of the palm-tree had heard every word the slaves had spoken, could not tell what to think of the adventure.  He concluded that the chest must contain something of value, and that the person to whom it belonged had some particular reasons for causing it to be buried in the cemetery.  He resolved immediately to satisfy his curiosity, came down from the palm-tree, the departure of the slaves having dissipated his fear, and fell to work upon the pit, plying his hands and feet so well, that in a short time he uncovered the chest, but found it secured by a padlock.  This new obstacle to the satisfying of his curiosity was no small mortification to him, yet he was not discouraged, but the day beginning then to appear, he saw several great stones about the burial-place.  He picked out one, with which he easily knocked off the padlock, and then with much impatience opened the chest.  Ganem was strangely surprised, when, instead of money, he discovered a young lady of incomparable beauty.  Her fresh and rosy complexion, and her gentle regular breathing, satisfied him she was alive, but he could not conceive why, if she were only asleep, she had not awaked at the noise he made in forcing off the padlock.  Her habit was so costly, with bracelets and pendants of diamonds, and a necklace of pearls, so large, that he made not the least doubt of her being one of the principal ladies of the court.  At the sight of so beautiful an object, not only compassion and natural inclination to relieve persons in danger, but something more powerful, which Ganem could not then account for, prevailed on him to afford the unfortunate beauty all the assistance in his power.

He first shut the gate of the burial-place, which the slaves had left open; then, returning, took the lady in his arms, and laid her on the soft earth which he had thrown off the chest.  As soon as she was exposed to the air, she sneezed, and, by the motion in turning her head, there came from her mouth a liquor, with which her stomach seemed to have been loaded; then opening and rubbing her eyes, she with such a voice as charmed Ganem, whom she did not see, cried out, “Zohorob Bostan, Shijher al Mirjaun, Casabos Souccar, Nouron Nihar, Nagmatos Sohi, Nonzbetos Zaman, why do you not answer? where are you?” These were the names of six female slaves that used to wait on her.  She called them, and wondered that nobody answered; but at length looking about, and perceiving she was in a burial-place, was seized with fear.  “What,” cried she, much louder than before, “are the dead raised?  Is the day of judgment come?  What a wonderful change is this from evening to morning?”

Ganem did not think fit to leave the lady any longer in her perplexity, but presented himself before her with all possible respect, and in the most courteous manner.  “Madam,” said he, “I am not able to express my joy at having happened to be here to do you the service I have, and to offer you all the assistance you may need under your present circumstances.”

In order to persuade the lady to repose confidence in him, he, in the first place, told her who he was, and what accident had brought him to that place.  Next he acquainted her with the coming of the three slaves, and how they had buried the chest.  The lady, who had covered her face with her veil as soon as Ganem appeared, was extremely sensible of the obligations she owed him.  “I return thanks to God,” said she “for having sent so worthy a person as you are to deliver me from death; but since you have begun so charitable a work, I conjure you not to leave it imperfect.  Let me beg of you to go into the city, and provide a muleteer, to come with his mule, and carry me to your house in this chest; for, should I go with you on foot, my dress being different from that of the city ladies, some one might take notice of it, and follow me, which it highly concerns me to prevent.  When I shall be in your house, I will give you an account of myself; and in the mean time be assured that you have not obliged an ungrateful person.”

Before the young merchant left the lady, he drew the chest out of the pit, which he filled up with earth, laid her again in the chest, and shut it in such a manner, that it did not look as if the padlock had been forced off; but for fear of stifling her, he did not put it quite close, leaving room for the admittance of air.  Going out of the burial-place, he drew the door after him; and the city gate being then open, soon found what he sought.  He returned with speed to the burial place, and helped the muleteer to lay the chest across his mule, telling him, to remove all cause of suspicion, that he came to that place the night before, with another muleteer, who, being in haste to return home, had laid down the chest where he saw it.

Ganem, who, since his arrival at Bagdad, had minded nothing but his business, was still unacquainted with the power of love, and now felt its first attacks.  It had not been in his power to look upon the young lady without being dazzled; and the uneasiness he felt at following the muleteer at a distance, and the fear lest any accident might happen by the way that should deprive him of his conquest, taught him to unravel his thoughts.  He was more than usually delighted, when, being arrived safe at home, he saw the chest unloaded.  He dismissed the muleteer, and having caused a slave to shut the door of his house, opened the chest, helped the lady out, gave her his hand, and conducted her to his apartment, lamenting how much she must have endured in such close confinement.  “If I have suffered,” said she, “I have satisfaction sufficient in what you have done for me, and in the pleasure of seeing myself out of danger.”

Though Ganem’s apartment was very richly furnished, the lady did not so much regard its appearance, as she did the handsome presence and engaging mien of her deliverer, whose politeness and obliging behaviour heightened her gratitude.  She sat down on a sofa, and to give the merchant to understand how sensible she was of the service done her, took off her veil.  Ganem on his part was sensible of the favour so lovely a lady did in uncovering her face to him, or rather felt he had already a most violent passion for her.  Whatever obligations she owed him, he thought himself more than requited by so singular a favour.

The lady dived into Ganem’s thoughts, yet was not at all alarmed, because he appeared very respectful.  He, judging she might have occasion to eat, and not willing to trust any but himself with the care of entertaining so charming a guest, went out with a slave to an eating-house, to give directions for an entertainment.  From thence he went to a fruiterer, where he chose the finest and best fruit; buying also the choicest wine, and the same bread that was eaten at the caliph’s table.

As soon as he returned home, he with his own hands made a pyramid of the fruit he had bought, and serving it up himself to the lady in a large dish, of the finest china-ware, “Madam,” said he, “be pleased to make choice of some of this fruit, while a more solid entertainment, and more worthy yourself, is preparing.”  He would have continued standing before her, but she declared she would not touch any thing, unless he sat down and ate with her.  He obeyed; and when they had eaten a little, Ganem observing that the lady’s veil, which she laid down by her on a sofa, was embroidered along the edge with golden letters, begged her permission to look on the embroidery.  The lady immediately took up the veil, and delivered it to him, asking him whether he could read?  “Madam,” replied he, with a modest air, “a merchant would be ill-qualified to manage his business if he could not at least read and write.”  “Well, then,” said she, “read the words which are embroidered on that veil, which gives me an opportunity of telling you my story.”

Ganem took the veil, and read these words, “I am yours, and you are mine, thou descendant from the prophet’s uncle.”  That descendant from the prophet’s uncle was the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, who then reigned, and was descended from Abbas, Mahummud’s uncle.

When Ganem perceived these words, “Alas! madam,” said he, in a melancholy tone, “I have just saved your life, and this writing is my death!  I do not comprehend all the mystery; but it convinces me I am the most unfortunate of men.  Pardon, madam, the liberty I take, but it was impossible for me to see you without giving you my heart.  You are not ignorant yourself, that it was not in my power to refuse it you, and that makes my presumption excusable.  I proposed to myself to touch your heart by my respectful behaviour, my care, my assiduity, my submission, my constancy; and no sooner have I formed the flattering design, than I am robbed of all my hopes.  I cannot long survive so great a misfortune.  But, be that as it will, I shall have the satisfaction of dying entirely yours.  Proceed, madam, I conjure you, and give me full information of my unhappy fate.”

He could not utter those words without letting fall some tears.  The lady was moved; but was so far from being displeased at the declaration he made, that she felt secret joy; for her heart began to yield.  However, she concealed her feelings, and as if she had not regarded what Ganem had said.  “I should have been very cautious,” answered she, “of strewing you my veil, had I thought it would have given you so much uneasiness; but I do not perceive that what I have to say to you can make your condition so deplorable as you imagine.”

“You must understand,” proceeded she, “in order to acquaint you with my story, that my name is Fetnah (which signifies disturbance), which was given me at my birth, because it was judged that the sight of me would one day occasion many calamities.  Of this you cannot be ignorant, since there is nobody in Bagdad but knows that the caliph, my sovereign lord and yours, has a favourite so called.

“I was carried into his palace in my tenderest years, and I have been brought up with all the care that is usually taken with such persons of my sex as are destined to reside there.  I made no little progress in all they took the pains to teach me; and that, with some share of beauty, gained me the affection of the caliph, who allotted me a particular apartment adjoining to his own.  That prince was not satisfied with such a mark of distinction; he appointed twenty women to wait on me, and as many eunuchs; and ever since he has made me such considerable presents, that I saw myself richer than any queen in the world.  You may judge by what I have said, that Zobeide, the caliph’s wife and kinswoman, could not but be jealous of my happiness.  Though Haroon has all the regard imaginable for her, she has taken every possible opportunity to ruin me.

“Hitherto I had secured myself against all her snares, but at length I fell under the last effort of her jealousy; and, had it not been for you, must now have been exposed to inevitable death.  I question not but she had corrupted one of my slaves, who last night, in some lemonade, gave me a drug, which causes such a dead sleep, that it is easy to dispose of those who have taken it; for that sleep is so profound, that nothing can dispel it for the space of seven or eight hours.  I have the more reason to judge so, because naturally I am a very bad sleeper, and apt to wake at the least noise.

“Zobeide, the better to put her design in execution, has availed herself of the absence of the caliph, who went lately to put himself at the head of his troops, to chastise some neighbouring kings, who have formed a league of rebellion.  Were it not for this opportunity, my rival, outrageous as she is, durst not have presumed to attempt any thing against my life.  I know not what she will do to conceal this action from the caliph, but you see it highly concerns me that you should keep my secret.  My life depends on it.  I shall be safe in your house as long as the caliph is from Bagdad.  It concerns you to keep my adventure private; for should Zobeide know the obligation I owe you, she would punish you for having saved me.

“When the caliph returns, I shall not need to be so much upon my guard.  I shall find means to acquaint him with all that has happened, and I am fully persuaded he will be more earnest than myself to requite a service which restores me to his love.”

As soon as Haroon al Rusheed’s beautiful favourite had done speaking, Ganem said, “Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for having given me the information I took the liberty to desire of you; and I beg of you to believe, that you are here in safety; the sentiments you have inspired are a pledge of my secrecy.

“As for my slaves, they may perhaps fail of the fidelity they owe me, should they know by what accident and in what place I had the happiness to find you.  I dare assure you, however, that they will not have the curiosity to inquire.  It is so natural for young men to purchase beautiful slaves, that it will be no way surprising to them to see you here, believing you to be one, and that I have bought you.  They will also conclude that I have some particular reasons for bringing you home as they saw I did.  Set your heart, therefore, at rest, as to that point, and remain satisfied that you shall be served with all the respect that is due to the favourite of so great a monarch as our sovereign the caliph.  But great as he is, give me leave, madam, to declare, that nothing can make me recall the present I have made you of my heart.  I know, and shall never forget, ’that what belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave;’ but I loved you before you told me that you were engaged to the caliph; it is not in my power to overcome a passion which, though now in its infancy, has all the force of a love strengthened by a perfect of situation.  I wish your august and most fortunate lover may avenge you of the malice of Zobeide, by calling you back to him; and when you shall be restored to his wishes, that you may remember the unfortunate Ganem, who is no less your conquest than the caliph.  Powerful as that prince is, I flatter myself he will not be able to blot me out of your remembrance.  He cannot love you more passionately than I do; and I shall never cease to love you into whatever part of the world I may go to expire, after having lost you.”

Fetnah perceived that Ganem was under the greatest of afflictions, and his situation affected her; but considering the uneasiness she was likely to bring upon herself, by prosecuting the conversation on that subject, which might insensibly lead her to discover the inclination she felt for him; “I perceive,” said she, “that this conversation gives you too much uneasiness; let us change the subject, and talk of the infinite obligation I owe you.  I can never sufficiently express my gratitude, when I reflect that, without your assistance, I should never again have beheld the light of the sun.”

It was happy for them both, that somebody just then knocked at the door; Ganem went to see who it was, and found it to be one of his slaves come to acquaint him that the entertainment was ready.  Ganem, who, by way of precaution, would have none of his slaves come into the room where Fetnah was, took what was brought, and served it up himself to his beautiful guest, whose soul was ravished to behold what attention he paid her.

When they had eaten, Ganem took away, as he had covered the table; and having delivered all things at the door of the apartment to his slaves, “Madam,” said he to Fetnah, “you may now perhaps desire to take some rest; I will leave you, and when you have reposed yourself, you shall find me ready to receive your commands.”

Having thus spoken, he left her, and went to purchase two women-slaves.  He also bought two parcels, one of fine linen, and the other of all such things as were proper to make up a toilet fit for the caliph’s favourite.  Having conducted home the two women-slaves, he presented them to Fetnah, saying, “Madam, a person of your quality cannot be without two waiting-maids, at least, to serve you; be pleased to accept of these.”

Fetnah, admiring Ganem’s attention, said, “My lord, I perceive you are not one that will do things by halves:  you add by your courtesy to the obligations I owe you already; but I hope I shall not die ungrateful, and that heaven will soon place me in a condition to requite all your acts of generosity.”

When the women-slaves were withdrawn into a chamber adjoining, he sat down on the sofa, but at some distance from Fetnah, in token of respect.  He then began to discourse of his passion.  “I dare not so much as hope,” said he, “to excite the least sensibility in a heart like yours, destined for the greatest prince in the world.  Alas! it would be a comfort to me in my misfortune, if I could but flatter myself, that you have not looked upon the excess of my love with indifference.”  “My lord,” answered Fetnah “Alas! madam,” said Ganem, interrupting her at the word lord, “this is the second time you have done me the honour to call me lord; the presence of the women-slaves hindered me the first time from taking notice of it to you:  in the name of God, madam, do not give me this title of honour; it does not belong to me; treat me, I beseech you, as your slave:  I am, and shall never cease to be so.”

“No, no,” replied Fetnah, interrupting him in her turn, “I shall be cautious how I treat with such disrespect a man to whom I owe my life.  I should be ungrateful, could I say or do any thing that did not become you.  Leave me, therefore, to follow the dictates of my gratitude, and do not require of me, that I should misbehave myself towards you, in return for the benefits I have received.  I shall never be guilty of such conduct; I am too sensible of your respectful behaviour to abuse it; and I will not hesitate to own, that I do not regard your care with indifference.  You know the reasons that condemn me to silence.”

Ganem was enraptured at this declaration; he wept for joy, and not being able to find expressions significant enough, in his own opinion, to return Fetnah thanks, was satisfied with telling her, that as she knew what she owed to the caliph, he, on his part, was not ignorant “that what belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.”

Night drawing on, he rose up to fetch a light, which he brought in himself, as also a collation.

They both sat down at table, and at first complimented each other on the fruit as they presented it reciprocally.  The excellence of the wine insensibly drew them both to drink; and having drunk two or three glasses, they agreed that neither should take another glass without first singing some air.  Ganem sung verses ex tempore, expressive of the vehemence of his passion; and Fetnah, encouraged by his example, composed and sung verses relating to her adventure, and always containing something which Ganem might take in a sense favourable to himself; except in this, she most exactly observed the fidelity due to the caliph.  The collation continued till very late, and the night was far advanced before they thought of parting.  Ganem then withdrew to another apartment, leaving Fetnah where she was, the women slaves he had bought coming in to wait upon her.

They lived together in this manner for several days.  The young merchant went not abroad, unless upon of the utmost consequence, and even for that took the time when the lady was reposing; for he could not prevail upon himself to lose a moment that might be spent in her company.  All his thoughts were taken up with his dear Fetnah, who, on her side, gave way to her inclination, confessed she had no less affection for him than he had for her.  However, fond as they were of each other, their respect for the caliph kept them within due bounds, which still heightened their passion.

Whilst Fetnah, thus snatched from the jaws of death, passed her time so agreeably with Ganem, Zobeide was not without some apprehensions in the palace of Haroon al Rusheed.

No sooner had the three slaves, entrusted with the execution of her revenge, carried away the chest, without knowing what it contained, or so much as the least curiosity to inquire (being used to pay a blind obedience to her commands), than she was seized with a tormenting uneasiness; a thousand perplexing thoughts disturbed her rest; sleep fled from her eyes, and she spent the night in contriving how to conceal her crime.  “My consort,” said she, “loves Fetnah more than ever he did any of his favourites.  What shall I say to him at his return, when he inquires of me after her?” Many contrivances occurred to her, but none were satisfactory.  Still she met with difficulties, and knew not where to fix.  There lived with her a lady advanced in years, who had bred her up from her infancy.  As soon as it was day, she sent for her, and having entrusted her with the secret, said, “My good mother, you have always assisted me with your advice; if ever I stood in need of it, it is now, when the business before you is to still my thoughts, distracted by a mortal anxiety, and to show me some way to satisfy the caliph.”

“My dear mistress,” replied the old lady, “it had been much better not to have run yourself into the difficulties you labour under; but since the thing is done, the best consolation is to think no more of it.  All that must now be thought of, is how to deceive the commander of the believers; and I am of opinion, that you should immediately cause a wooden image resembling a dead body to be carved.  We will shroud it up in linen, and when shut up in a coffin, it shall be buried in some part of the palace; you shall then immediately cause a marble mausoleum to be built, in the form of a dome, over the burial place, and erect a tomb, which shall be covered with embroidered cloth, and set about with great candlesticks and large wax tapers.  There is another thing,” added the old lady, “which ought not to be forgotten; you must put on mourning, and cause the same to be done by your own and Fetnah’s women, your eunuchs, and all the officers of the palace.  When the caliph returns, and sees you all and the palace in mourning, he will not fail to ask the occasion of it.  You will then have an opportunity of insinuating yourself into his favour, by saying, it was out of respect to him that you paid the last honours to Fetnah, snatched away by sudden death.  You may tell him, you have caused a mausoleum to be built, and, in short, that you have paid all the last honours to his favourite, as he would have done himself had he been present.  His passion for her being extraordinary, he will certainly go to shed tears upon her grave; and perhaps,” added the old woman, “he will not believe she is really dead.  He may, possibly, suspect you have turned her out of the palace through jealousy, and look upon all the mourning as an artifice to deceive him, and prevent his making inquiries after her.  It is likely he will cause the coffin to be taken up and opened, and it is certain he will be convinced of her death, as soon as he shall see the figure of a dead body buried.  He will be pleased with all you shall have done, and express his gratitude.  As for the wooden image, I will myself undertake to have it cut by a carver in the city, who shall not know the purpose for which it is designed.  As for your part, madam, order Fetnah’s woman, who yesterday gave her the lemonade, to give out, among her companions, that she has just found her mistress dead in her bed; and in order that they may only think of lamenting, without offering to go into her chamber, let her add, she has already acquainted you with the circumstance, and that you have ordered Mesrour to cause her to be buried.”

As soon as the old lady had spoken, Zobeide took a rich diamond ring out of her casket, and putting it on her finger, and embracing her in a transport of joy, said, “How infinitely am I beholden to you, my good mother!  I should never have thought of so ingenious a contrivance.  It cannot fail of success, and I begin to recover my peace.  I leave the care of the wooden figure to you, and will go myself to order the rest.”

The wooden image was got ready with as much expedition as Zobeide could have wished, and then conveyed by the old lady herself into Fetnah’s bed-chamber, where she dressed it like a dead body, and put it into a coffin.  Then Mesrour, who was himself deceived by it, caused the coffin and the representation of Fetnah to be carried away, and buried with the usual ceremonies in the place appointed by Zobeide, the favourite’s women weeping and lamenting, she who had given her the lemonade setting them an example by her cries and lamentations.

That very day Zobeide sent for the architect of the palace, and, according to orders, the mausoleum was finished in a short time.  Such potent princesses as the consort of a monarch, whose power extended from east to west, are always punctually obeyed in whatsoever they command.  She soon put on mourning with all the court; so that the news of Fetnah’s death was quickly spread over the city.

Ganem was one of the last who heard of it; for, as I have before observed, he hardly ever went abroad.  Being, however, at length informed of it, “Madam,” said he to the caliph’s fair favourite, “you are supposed in Bagdad to be dead, and I do not question but that Zobeide herself believes it.  I bless heaven that I am the cause, and the happy witness of your being alive; would to God, that, taking advantage of this false report, you would share my fortune, and go far from hence to reign in my heart!  But whither does this pleasing transport carry me?  I do not consider that you are born to make the greatest prince in the world happy; and that only Haroon al Rusheed is worthy of you.  Supposing you could resolve to give him up for me, and that you would follow me, ought I to consent?  No, it is my part always to remember, ’that what belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.’”

The lovely Fetnah, though moved by the tenderness of the passion he expressed, yet prevailed with herself not to encourage it.  “My lord,” said she to him, “we cannot obstruct the momentary triumph of Zobeide.  I am not surprised at the artifice she uses to conceal her guilt:  but let her go on; I flatter myself that sorrow will soon follow her triumph.  The caliph will return, and we shall find the means privately to inform him of all that has happened.  In the mean time let us be more cautious than ever, that she may not know I am alive.  I have already told you the consequences to be apprehended from such a discovery.”

At the end of three months the caliph returned to Bagdad with glory, having vanquished all his enemies.  He entered the palace with impatience to embrace Fetnah; but was amazed to see all the officers in mourning; and his concern was redoubled when, approaching the apartment of Zobeide, he beheld that princess coming to meet him in mourning with all her women.  He immediately asked her the cause, with much agitation.  “Commander of the believers,” answered Zobeide, “I am in mourning for your slave Fetnah; who died so suddenly that it was impossible to apply any remedy to her disorder.”  She would have proceeded, but the caliph did not give her time, being so agitated at the news, that he uttered a feeble exclamation, and fainted.  On recovering himself, he, with a feeble voice, which sufficiently expressed his extreme grief, asked where his dear Fetnah had been buried.  “Sir,” said Zobeide, “I myself took care of her funeral, and spared no cost to make it magnificent.  I have caused a marble mausoleum to be built over her grave, and will attend you thither if you desire.”

The caliph would not permit Zobeide to take that trouble, but contented himself to have Mesrour to conduct him.  He went thither just as he was, in his camp dress.  When he saw the tomb, the wax-lights round it, and the magnificence of the mausoleum, he was amazed that Zobeide should have performed the obsequies of her rival with so much pomp; and being naturally of a jealous temper, suspected his wife’s generosity and fancied his mistress might perhaps be yet alive; that Zobeide, taking advantage of his long absence, might have turned her out of the palace, ordering those she had entrusted to conduct her, to convey her so far off that she might never more be heard of.  This was all he suspected; for he did not think Zobeide wicked enough to have attempted the life of his favourite.

The better to discover the truth himself, he ordered the tomb to be removed, and caused the grave and the coffin to be opened in his presence; but when he saw the linen wrapped round the wooden image, he durst not proceed any farther.  This devout caliph thought it would be a sacrilegious act to suffer the body of the dead lady to be touched; and this scrupulous fear prevailed over his love and curiosity.  He doubted not of Fetnah’s death.  He caused the coffin to be shut up again, the grave to be filled, and the tomb to be made as it was before.

The caliph thinking himself obliged to pay some respect to the grave of his favourite, sent for the ministers of religion, the officers of the palace, and the readers of the Koraun; and, whilst they were collecting together, he remained in the mausoleum, moistening with his tears the marble that covered the phantom of his mistress.  When all the persons he had sent for were come, he stood before the tomb, and recited long prayers; after which the readers of the Koraun read several, chapters.

The same ceremony was performed every day for a whole month, morning and evening, the caliph being always present, with the grand vizier, and the principal officers of the court, all of them in mourning, as well as the caliph himself, who all the time ceased not to honour the memory of Fetnah with his tears, and would not hear of any business.

The last day of the month, the prayers and reading of the Koraun lasted from morning till break of day the next morning.  The caliph, being tired with sitting up so long, went to take some rest in his apartment, and fell asleep upon a sofa, between two of the court ladies, one of them sitting at the bed’s-head, and the other at the feet, who, whilst he slept, were working some embroidery, and observed a profound silence.

She who sat at the bed’s-head, and whose name was Nouron-Nihar, perceiving the caliph was asleep, whispered to the other, called Nagmatos Sohi, “There is great news!  The commander of the believers our master will be overjoyed when he awakes, and hears what I have to tell him; Fetnah is not dead, she is in perfect health.”  “O heavens!” cried Nagmatos Sohi, in a transport of joy, “is it possible, that the beautiful, the charming, the incomparable Fetnah should be still among the living?” She uttered these words with so much vivacity, and so loud, that the caliph awoke.  He asked why they had disturbed his rest?  “Alas! my sovereign lord,” answered the slave, “pardon me this indiscretion; I could not without transport hear that Fetnah is still alive; it caused such emotion in me, as I could not suppress.”  “What then is become of her,” demanded the caliph, “if she is not dead?” “Chief of the believers,” replied the other, “I this evening received a note from a person unknown, written with Fetnah’s own hand; she gives me an account of her melancholy adventure, and orders me to acquaint you with it.  I thought fit, before I fulfilled my commission, to let you take some few moments’ rest, believing you must stand in need of it, after your fatigue; and——”

“Give me that note,” said the caliph, interrupting her eagerly, “you were wrong to defer delivering it to me.”

The slave immediately presented to him the note, which he opened with much impatience, and in it Fetnah gave a particular account of all that had befallen her, but enlarged a little too much on the attentions of Ganem.  The caliph, who was naturally jealous, instead of being provoked at the inhumanity of Zobeide, was more concerned at the infidelity he fancied Fetnah had been guilty of towards him.  “Is it so?” said he, after reading the note; “the perfidious wretch has been four months with a young merchant, and has the effrontery to boast of his attention to her.  Thirty days are past since my return to Bagdad, and she now thinks of sending me news of herself.  Ungrateful creature! whilst I spend the days in bewailing her, she passes them in betraying me.  Go to, let us take vengeance of a bold woman, and that bold youth who affronts me.”  Having spoken these words, the caliph rose, and went into a hall where he used to appear in public, and give audience to his court.  The first gate was opened, and immediately all the courtiers, who were waiting without, entered.  The grand vizier, came in, and prostrated himself before the throne.  Then rising, he stood before his master, who, in a tone which denoted he would be instantly obeyed, said to him, “Jaaffier, your presence is requisite, for putting in execution an important affair I am about to commit to you.  Take four hundred men of my guards with you, and first inquire where a merchant of Damascus lives whose name is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub.  When you have learnt this, repair to his house, and cause it to be razed to the foundations; but first secure Ganem, and bring him hither, with my slave Fetnah, who has lived with him these four months.  I will punish her, and make an example of that insolent man, who has presumed to fail in respell to me.”

The grand vizier, having received this positive command, made a low prostration to the caliph, having his hand on his head, in token that he would rather lose it than disobey him, and departed.  The first thing he did, was to send to the syndic of the dealers in foreign stuffs and silks, with strict orders to find out the house of the unfortunate merchant.  The officer he sent with these orders brought him back word, that he had scarcely been seen for some months, and no man knew what could keep him at home, if he was there.  The same officer likewise told Jaaffier where Ganem lived.

Upon this information, that minister, without losing time, went to the judge of the police, whom he caused to bear him company, and attended by a great number of carpenters and masons, with the necessary tools for razing a house, came to Ganem’s residence; and finding it stood detached from any other, he posted his soldiers round it, to prevent the young merchant’s making his escape.

Fetnah and Ganem had just dined:  the lady was sitting at a window next the street; hearing a noise, she looked out through the lattice, and seeing the grand vizier, approach with his attendants, concluded she was their object as well as Ganem.  She perceived her note had been received, but had not expected such a consequence, having hoped that the caliph would have taken the matter in a different light.  She knew not how long the prince had been returned from his campaign, and though she was acquainted with his jealous temper, yet apprehended nothing on that account.  However, the sight of the grand vizier, and the soldiers made her tremble, not indeed for herself, but for Ganem:  she did not question clearing herself, provided the caliph would but hear her.  As for Ganem, whom she loved less out of gratitude than inclination, she plainly foresaw that his incensed rival might be apt to condemn him, on account of his youth and person.  Full of this thought, she turned to the young merchant and said, “Alas!  Ganem, we are undone.”  Ganem looked through the lattice, and was seized with dread, when he beheld the caliph’s guards with their naked cimeters, and the grand vizier, with the civil magistrate at the head of them.  At this sight he stood motionless, and had not power to utter one word.  “Ganem,” said the favourite, “there is no time to be lost; if you love me, put on the habit of one of your slaves immediately, and disfigure your face and arms with soot.  Then put some of these dishes on your head; you may be taken for a servant belonging to the eating house, and they will let you pass.  If they happen to ask you where the master of the house is, answer, without any hesitation, that he is within.”  “Alas! madam,” answered Harem, concerned for himself than for Fetnah, “you only take care of me, what will become of you?” “Let not that trouble you,” replied Fetnah, “it is my part to look to that.  As for what you leave in this house, I will take care of it, and I hope it will be one day faithfully restored to you, when the caliph’s anger shall be over; but at present avoid his fury.  The orders he gives in the heat of passion are always fatal.”  The young merchant’s affliction was so great, that he knew not what course to pursue, and would certainly have suffered himself to be seized by the caliph’s soldiers, had not Fetnah pressed him to disguise himself.  He submitted to her persuasions, put on the habit of a slave, daubed himself with soot, and as they were knocking at the door, all they could do was to embrace each other tenderly.  They were both so overwhelmed with sorrow, that they could not utter a word.  Thus they parted.  Ganem went out with some dishes on his head:  he was taken for the servant of an eating-house, and no one offered to stop him.  On the contrary, the grand vizier, who was the first that met him, gave way and let him pass, little thinking that he was the man he looked for.  Those who were behind the grand vizier, made way as he had done, and thus favoured his escape He soon reached one of the gates, and got clear of the city.

Whilst he was making the best of his way from the grand vizier, that minister came into the room where Fetnah was sitting on a sofa, and where there were many chests full of Ganem’s clothes, and of the money he had made of his goods.

As soon as Fetnah saw the grand vizier, come into the room, she fell upon her face, and continuing in that posture, as it were to receive her death; “My lord,” said she, “I am ready to undergo the sentence passed against me by the commander of the believers; you need only make it known to me.”  “Madam,” answered Jaaffier, falling also down till she had raised herself, “God forbid any man should presume to lay profane hands on you.  I do not intend to offer you the least harm.  I have no farther orders, than to intreat you will be pleased to go with me to the palace, and to conduct you thither, with the merchant that lives in this house.”  “My lord,” replied the favourite, “let us go; I am ready to follow you.  As for the young merchant, to whom I am indebted for my life, he is not here, he has been gone about a month since to Damascus, whither his business called him, and has left these chests you see under my care, till he returns.  I conjure you to cause them to be carried to the palace, and order them to be secured, that I may perform the promise I made him to take all possible care of them.”

“You shall be obeyed,” said Jaaffier, and immediately sent for porters, whom he commanded to take up the chests, and carry them to Mesrour.

As soon as the porters were gone, he whispered the civil magistrate, committing to him the care of seeing the house razed, but first to cause diligent search to be made for Ganem, who, he suspected, might be hidden, notwithstanding what Fetnah had told him.  He then went out, taking her with him, attended by the two slaves who waited on her.  As for Ganem’s slaves, they were not regarded; they ran in among the crowd, and it was not known what became of them.

No sooner was Jaaffier out of the house, than the masons and carpenters began to demolish it, and did their business so effectually, that in a few hours none of it remained.  But the civil magistrate, not finding Ganem, after the strictest search, sent to acquaint the grand vizier, before that minister reached the palace.  “Well,” said Haroon al Rusheed, seeing him come into his closet, “have you executed my orders?” “Yes,” answered Jaaffier “the house Ganem lived in is levelled with the ground, and I have brought you your favourite Fetnah; she is at your closet door, and I will call her in, if you command me.  As for the young merchant, we could not find him, though every place has been searched, and Fetnah affirms that he has been gone a month to Damascus.”

Never was passion equal to that of the caliph, when he heard that Ganem had made his escape.  As for his favourite, believing that she had been false to him, he would neither see nor speak to her.  “Mesrour,” said he to the chief of the eunuchs, who was then present, “take the ungrateful and perfidious Fetnah, and shut her up in the dark tower.”  That tower was within the precinct of the palace, and commonly served as a prison for the favourites who any way offended the caliph.

Mesrour being used to execute his sovereign’s orders, however unjust, without making any answer, obeyed this with some reluctance.  He signified his concern to Fetnah, who was the more grieved because she had assured herself, that the caliph would not refuse to speak to her.  She was obliged to submit to her hard fate, and to follow Mesrour, who conducted her to the dark tower, and there left her.

In the mean time, the enraged caliph dismissed his grand vizier, and only hearkening to his passion, wrote the following letter with his own hand to the king of Syria, his cousin and tributary, who resided at Damascus.

“This letter is to inform you, that a merchant of Damascus, whose name is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub, has seduced the most amiable of my women slaves, called Fetnah, and is fled.  It is my will, that when you have read my letter, you cause search to be made for Ganem, and secure him.  When he is in your power, you shall cause him to be loaded with irons, and for three days successively let him receive fifty strokes of the bastinado.  Then let him be led through all parts of the city by a crier, proclaiming, ’This is the smallest punishment the commander of the believers inflicts on him that offends his lord, and debauches one of his slaves.’  After that you shall send him to me under a strong guard.  It is my will that you cause his house to be plundered; and after it has been razed, order the materials to be carried out of the city into the middle of the plain.  Besides this, if he has father, mother, sister, wives, daughters, or other kindred, cause them to be stripped; and when they are naked, expose them three days to the whole city, forbidding any person on pain of death to afford them shelter.  I expect you will without delay execute my command.”

The caliph having written this letter, dispatched it by an express, ordering him to make all possible speed, and to take pigeons along with him, that he might the sooner hear what had been done by Mahummud Zinebi.

The pigeons of Bagdad have this peculiar quality, that from wherever they may be carried to, they return to Bagdad as soon as they are set at liberty, especially when they have young ones.  A letter rolled up is made fast under their wing, and by that means advice is speedily received from such places as it is desired.

The caliph’s courier travelled night and day, as his master’s impatience required; and being come to Damascus, went directly to king Zinebi’s palace, who sat upon his throne to receive the caliph’s letter.  The courier having delivered it, Mahummud looking at it, and knowing the hand, stood up to shew his respect, kissed the letter, and laid it on his head, to denote he was ready submissively to obey the orders it contained.  He opened it, and having read it, immediately descended from his throne, and without losing time, mounted on horseback with the principal officers of his household.  He sent for the civil magistrate; and went directly to Ganem’s house, attended by all his guards.

Ganem’s mother had never received any letter from him since he had left Damascus; but the other merchants with whom he went to Bagdad were returned, and all of them told her they had left her son in perfect however, seeing he did not return, she could not but be persuaded that he was dead, and was so fully convinced of this in her imagination, that she went into mourning.  She bewailed Ganem as if she had seen him die, and had herself closed his eyes:  never mother expressed greater sorrow; and so far was she from seeking any comfort, that she delighted in indulging her grief.  She had caused a dome to be built in the middle of the court belonging to her house, in which she placed a tomb.  She spent the greatest part of the days and nights in weeping under that dome, as if her son had been buried there:  her daughter bore her company, and mixed her tears with hers.

It was now some time since they had thus devoted themselves to sorrow, and the neighbourhood, hearing their cries and lamentations, pitied such tender relations, when king Mahummud Zinebi knocked at the door, which being opened by a slave belonging to the family, he hastily entered the house, inquiring for Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub.

Though the slave had never seen king Zinebi, she guessed by his retinue that he must be one of the principal officers of Damascus.  “My lord,” said she, “that Ganem you inquire for is dead; my mistress, his mother, is in that monument, lamenting him.”  The king, not regarding what was said by the slave, caused all the house to be diligently searched by his guards for Ganem.  He then advanced towards the monument, where he saw the mother and daughter sitting on a mat, and their faces appeared to him bathed in tears.  These poor women immediately veiled themselves, as soon as they beheld a man at the door of the dome; but the mother, knowing the king of Damascus, got up, and ran to cast herself at his feet.  “My good lady,” said he, “I was looking for your son, Ganem, is he here?” “Alas! sir,” cried the mother, “it is a long time since he has ceased to be:  would to God I had at least put him into his coffin with my own hands, and had had the comfort of having his bones in this monument!  O my son, my dear son!” She would have said more, but was oppressed with such violent sorrow that she was unable to proceed.

Zinebi was moved; for he was a prince of a mild nature, and had much compassion for the sufferings of the unfortunate.  “If Ganem alone be guilty,” thought he to himself, “why should the mother and the daughter, who are innocent, be punished?  Ah! cruel Haroon al Rusheed! what a mortification do you put upon me, in making me the executioner of your vengeance, obliging me to persecute persons who have not offended you.”

The guards whom the king had ordered to search for Ganem, came and told him their search had been vain.  He was fully convinced of this; the tears of those two women would not leave him any room to doubt.  It distracted him to be obliged to execute the caliph’s order.  “My good lady,” said he to Ganem’s mother, “quit this monument with your daughter, it is no place of safety for you.”  They went out, and he, to secure them against any insult, took off his own robe, and covered them both with it, bidding them keep close to him.  He then ordered the populace to be let in to plunder, which was performed with the utmost rapaciousness, and with shouts which terrified Ganem’s mother and sister the more, because they knew not the reason.  The rabble carried off the richest goods, chests full of wealth, fine Persian and Indian carpets, cushions covered with cloth of gold and silver, fine China ware; in short, all was taken away, till nothing remained but the bare walls of the house:  and it was a dismal spectacle for the unhappy ladies, to see all their goods plundered, without knowing why they were so cruelly treated.

When the house was plundered, Mahummud ordered the civil magistrate to raze the house and monument; and while that was doing, he carried away the mother and daughter to his palace.  There it was he redoubled their affliction, by acquainting them with the caliph’s will.  “He commands me,” said he to them, “to cause you to be stripped, and exposed naked for three days to the view of the people.  It is with the utmost reluctance that I execute such a cruel and ignominious sentence.”  The king delivered these words with such an air, as plainly made it appear his heart was really pierced with grief and compassion.  Though the fear of being dethroned prevented his following the dictates of his pity, yet he in some measure moderated the rigour of the caliph’s orders, by causing large shifts, without sleeves, to be made of coarse horse-hair for Ganem’s mother, and his sister.

The next day, these two victims of the caliph’s rage were stripped of their clothes, and their horse-hair shifts put upon them; their head-dress was also taken away, so that their dishevelled hair hung floating on their backs.  The daughter had the finest hair, and it hung down to the ground.  In this condition they were exposed to the people.  The civil magistrate, attended by his officers, were along with them, and they were conducted through the city.  A crier went before them, who every now and then cried, “This is the punishment due to those who have drawn on themselves the indignation of the commander of the believers.”

Whilst they walked in this manner along the streets of Damascus, with their arms and feet naked, clad in such a strange garment, and endeavouring to hide their confusion under their hair, with which they covered their faces, all the people were dissolved in tears; more especially the ladies, considering them as innocent persons, as they beheld them through their lattice windows, and being particularly moved by the daughter’s youth and beauty, they made the air ring with their shrieks, as they passed before their houses.  The very children, frightened at those shrieks, and at the spectacle that occasioned them, mixed their cries with the general lamentation.  In short, had an enemy been in Damascus, putting all to fire and sword, the consternation could not have been greater.

It was near night when this dismal scene concluded.  The mother and daughter were both conducted back to king Mahummud’s palace.  Not being used to walk bare-foot, they were so spent, that they lay a long time in a swoon.  The queen of Damascus, highly afflicted at their misfortunes, notwithstanding the caliph’s prohibition to relieve them, sent some of her women to comfort them, with all sorts of refreshments and wine, to recover their spirits.

The queen’s women found them still in a swoon, and almost past receiving any benefit by what they offered them.  However, with much difficulty they were brought to themselves.  Ganem’s mother immediately returned them thanks for their courtesy.  “My good madam,” said one of the queen’s ladies to her, “we are highly concerned at your affliction, and the queen of Syria, our mistress, has done us a favour in employing us to assist you.  We can assure you, that princess is much afflicted at your misfortunes, as well as the king her consort.”  Ganem’s mother entreated the queen’s women to return her majesty a thousand thanks from her and her daughter, and then directing her discourse to the lady who spoke to her, “Madam,” said she, “the king has not told me why the chief of the believers inflicts so many outrages on us:  pray be pleased to tell us what crimes we have been guilty of.”  “My good lady,” answered the other, “the origin of your misfortunes proceeds from your son Ganem.  He is not dead, as you imagine.  He is accused of having seduced the beautiful Fetnah, the best beloved of the caliph’s favourites; but having, by flight, withdrawn himself from that prince’s indignation, the punishment is fallen on you.  All condemn the caliph’s resentment, but all fear him; and you see king Zinebi himself dares not resist his orders, for fear of incurring his displeasure.  All we can do is to pity you, and exhort you to have patience.”

“I know my son,” answered Ganem’s mother; “I have educated him carefully, and in that respect which is due to the commander of the believers.  He cannot have committed the crime he is accused of; I dare answer for his innocence.  But I will cease to murmur and complain, since it is for him that I suffer, and he is not dead.  O Ganem!” added she, in a transport of affection and joy, “my dear son Ganem! is possible that you are still alive?  I am no longer concerned for the loss of my fortune; and how harsh and unjust soever the caliph’s orders may be, I forgive him, provided heaven has preserved my son.  I am only concerned for my daughter; her sufferings alone afflict me; yet I believe her to be so good a sister as to follow my example.”

On hearing these words, the young lady, who till then had appeared insensible, turned to her mother, and clasping her arms about her neck, “Yes, dear mother,” said she, “I will always follow your example, whatever extremity your love for my brother may reduce us to.”

The mother and daughter thus interchanging their sighs and tears, continued a considerable time in such moving embraces.  In the mean time the queen’s women, who were much affected at the spectacle, omitted no persuasions to prevail with Ganem’s mother to take some sustenance.  She ate a morsel out of complaisance, and her daughter did the like.

The caliph having ordered that Ganem’s kindred should be exposed three days successively to the sight of the people, in the condition already mentioned, the unhappy ladies afforded the same spectacle the second time next day, from morning till night.  But that day and the following, the streets, which at first had been full of people, were now quite empty.  All the merchants, incensed at the ill usage of Abou Ayoub’s widow and daughter, shut up their shops, and kept themselves close within their houses.  The ladies, instead of looking through their lattice windows, withdrew into the back parts of their houses.  There was not a person to be seen in the public places through which those unfortunate women were carried.  It seemed as if all the inhabitants of Damascus had abandoned their city.

On the fourth day, the king resolving punctually to obey the caliph’s orders, though he did not approve of them, sent criers into all quarters of the city to make proclamation, strictly commanding all the inhabitants of Damascus, and strangers, of what condition soever, upon pain of death, and having their bodies cast to the dogs to be devoured, not to receive Ganem’s mother and sister into their houses, or give them a morsel of bread or a drop of water, and, in a word, not to afford them the least support, or hold the least correspondence with them.

When the criers had performed what the king had enjoined them, that prince ordered the mother and the daughter to be turned out of the palace, and left to their choice to go where they thought fit.  As soon as they appeared, all persons fled from them, so great an impression had the late prohibition made upon all.  They easily perceived that every body shunned them; but not knowing the reason, were much surprised; and their amazement was the greater, when coming into any street, or among any persons, they recollected some of their best friends, who immediately retreated with as much haste as the rest.  “What is the meaning of this,” said Ganem’s mother; “do we carry the plague about us?  Must the unjust and barbarous usage we have received render us odious to our fellow-citizens?  Come, my child,” added she, “let us depart from Damascus with all speed; let us not stay any longer in a city where we are become frightful to our very friends.”

The two wretched ladies, discoursing in this manner, came to one of the extremities of the city, and retired to a ruined house to pass the night.  Thither some Mussulmauns, out of charity and compassion, resorted to them after the day was shut in.  They carried them provisions, but durst not stay to comfort them, for fear of being discovered, and punished for disobeying the caliph’s orders.

In the mean time king Zinebi had let fly a pigeon to give the caliph an account of his exact obedience.  He informed him of all that had been executed, and conjured him to direct what he would have done with Ganem’s mother and sister.  He soon received the caliph’s answer in the same way, which was, that he should banish them from Damascus for ever.  Immediately the king of Syria sent men to the old house, with orders to take the mother and daughter, and to conduct them three days’ journey from Damascus, and there to leave them, forbidding them ever to return to the city.

Zinebi’s men executed their commission, but being less exact their master, in the strict performance of the caliph’s orders, they in pity gave the wretched ladies some small pieces of money, and each of them a scrip, which they hung about their necks, to carry their provisions.

In this miserable state they came to the first village.  The peasants’ wives flocked about them, and, as it appeared through their disguise that they were people of some condition, asked them what was the occasion of their travelling in a habit that did not seem to belong to them.  Instead of answering the question, they fell to weeping, which only served to heighten the curiosity of the peasants, and to move their compassion.  Ganem’s mother told them what she and her daughter had endured; at which the good countrywomen were sensibly afflicted, and endeavoured to comfort them.  They treated them as well as their poverty would permit, took off their horse-hair shifts, which were very uneasy to them, and put on them others which they gave them, with shoes, and something to cover their heads, and save their hair.

Having expressed their gratitude to those charitable women, Jalib al Koolloob and her mother departed from that village, taking short journeys towards Aleppo.  They used at dusk to retire near or into the mosques, where they passed the night on the mat, if there was any, or else on the bare pavement; and sometimes rested in the public places appointed for the use of travellers.  As for sustenance, they did not want, for they often came to places where bread, boiled rice, and other provisions are distributed to all travellers who desire it.

At length they came to Aleppo, but would not stay there, and continuing their journey towards the Euphrates, crossed the river, and entered Mesopotamia, which they traversed as far as Moussoul.  Thence, notwithstanding all they had endured, they proceeded to Bagdad.  That was the place they had fixed their thoughts upon, hoping to find Ganem, though they ought not to have fancied that he was in a city where the caliph resided; but they hoped, because they wished it; their affection for him increasing instead of diminishing, with their misfortunes.  Their conversation was generally about him, and they inquired for him of all they met.  But let us leave Jalib al Koolloob and her mother, and return to Fetnah.

She was still confined closely in the dark tower, since the day that had been so fatal to Ganem and herself.  However, disagreeable as her prison was to her, it was much less grievous than the thoughts of Ganem’s misfortune, the uncertainty of whose fate was a killing affliction.  There was scarcely a moment in which she did not lament him.

The caliph was accustomed to walk frequently at night within the enclosure of his palace, for he was the most inquisitive prince in the world, and sometimes, by those night-walks, came to the knowledge of things that happened in his court, which would otherwise never have reached his ear.  One of those nights, in his walk, he happened to pass by the dark tower, and fancying he heard somebody talk, stops, and drawing near the door to listen, distinctly heard these words, which Fetnah, whose thoughts were always on Ganem, uttered with a loud voice:  “O Ganem, too unfortunate Ganem! where are you at this time, whither has thy cruel fate led thee?  Alas! it is I that have made you wretched! why did you not let me perish miserably, rather than afford me your generous relief?  What melancholy return have you received for your care and respect?  The commander of the faithful, who ought to have rewarded, persecutes you; and in requital for having always regarded me as a person reserved for his bed, you lose your fortune, and are obliged to seek for safety in flight.  O caliph, barbarous caliph, how can you exculpate yourself, when you shall appear with Ganem before the tribunal of the Supreme Judge, and the angels shall testify the truth before your face?  All the power you are now invested with, and which makes almost the whole world tremble, will not prevent your being condemned and punished for your violent and unjust proceedings.”  Here Fetnah ceased her complaints, her sighs and tears putting a stop to her utterance.

This was enough to make the caliph reflect.  He plainly perceived, that if what he had heard was true, his favourite must be innocent, and that he had been too hasty in giving such orders against Ganem and his family.  Being resolved to be rightly informed in an affair which so nearly concerned him in point of equity, on which he valued himself, he immediately returned to his apartment, and that moment ordered Mesrour to repair to the dark tower, and bring Fetnah before him.

By this command, and much more by the caliph’s manner of speaking, the chief of the eunuchs guessed that his master designed to pardon his favourite, and take her to him again.  He was overjoyed at the thought, for he respected Fetnah, and had been much concerned at her disgrace; therefore flying instantly to the tower, “Madam,” said he to the favourite, with such an air as expressed his satisfaction, “be pleased to follow me; I hope you will never more return to this melancholy abode:  the commander of the faithful wishes to speak with you, and I draw from this a happy omen.”

Fetnah followed Mesrour, who conducted her into the caliph’s closet.  She prostrated herself before him, and so continued, her face bathed in tears.  “Fetnah,” said the caliph, without bidding her rise, “I think you charge me with violence and injustice.  Who is he, that, notwithstanding the regard and respell he had for me, is in a miserable condition?  Speak freely, you know the natural goodness of my disposition, and that I love to do justice.”

By these words the favourite was convinced that the caliph had heard what she had said, and availed herself of so favourable an opportunity to clear Ganem.  “Commander of the true believers,” said she, “if I have let fall any word that is not agreeable to your majesty, I most humbly beseech you to forgive me; but he whose innocence and wretched state you desire to be informed of is Ganem, the unhappy son of Abou Ayoub, late a rich merchant of Damascus.  He saved my life from a grave, and afforded me a sanctuary in his house.  I must own, that, from the first moment he saw me, he perhaps designed to devote himself to me, and conceived hopes of engaging me to admit his love.  I guessed at this, by the eagerness which he shewed in entertaining me, and doing me all the good offices I so much wanted under the circumstances I was then in; but as soon as he heard that I had the honour to belong to you, ‘Ah, madam,’ said he, ’that which belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.’  From that moment, I owe this justice to his virtue to declare, his behaviour was always suitable to his words.  You, commander of the true believers, well know with what rigour you have treated him, and you will answer for it before the tribunal of God.”

The caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of these words; “But may I,” said he, “rely on the assurance you give me of Ganem’s virtue?” “Yes,” replied Fetnah, “you may.  I would not for the world conceal the truth from you; and to prove to you that I am sincere, I must make a confession, which perhaps may displease you, but I beg pardon of your majesty beforehand.”  “Speak, daughter,” said Haroon al Rusheed, “I forgive you all, provided you conceal nothing from me.”  “Well, then,” replied Fetnah, “let me inform you, that Ganem’s respectful behaviour, joined to all the good offices he did me, gained him my esteem.  I went further yet:  you know the tyranny of love:  I felt some tender inclination rising in my breast.  He perceived it; but far from availing himself of my frailty, and notwithstanding the flame which consumed him, he still remained steady in his duty, and all that his passion could force from him were the words I have already repeated to your majesty, ’That which belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.’”

This ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than the caliph; but it completely appeased that prince.  He commanded her to rise, and making her sit by him, “Tell me your story,” said he, “from the beginning to the end.”  She did so, with artless simplicity, passing slightly over what regarded Zobeide, and enlarging on the obligations she owed to Ganem; but above all, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by that means to make the caliph sensible that she had been under the necessity of remaining concealed in Ganem’s house, to deceive Zobeide.  She concluded with the young merchant’s escape, which she plainly told the caliph she had compelled him to, that he might avoid his indignation.

When she had done speaking, the caliph said to her, “I believe all you have told me; but why was it so long before you let me hear from you?  Was there any need of staying a whole month after my return, before you sent me word where you were?” “Commander of the true believers,” answered Fetnah, “Ganem went abroad so very seldom, that you need not wonder we were not the first that heard of your return.  Besides, Ganem, who took upon him to deliver the letter I wrote to Nouron Nihar, was a long time before he could find an opportunity of putting it into her own hands.”

“It is enough, Fetnah,” replied the caliph; “I acknowledge my fault, and would willingly make amends for it, by heaping favours on the young merchant of Damascus.  Consider, therefore, what I can do for him.  Ask what you think fit, and I will grant it.”  Hereupon the favourite fell down at the caliph’s feet, with her face to the ground; and rising again, said, “Commander of the true believers, after returning your majesty thanks for Ganem, I most humbly entreat you to cause it to be published throughout your do minions, that you pardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and that he may safely come to you.”  “I must do more,” rejoined the prince, “in requital for having saved your life, and the respect he has strewn for me, to make amends for the loss of his fortune.  In short, to repair the wrong I have done to himself and his family, I give him to you for a husband.”  Fetnah had no words expressive enough to thank the caliph for his generosity:  she then withdrew into the apartment she had occupied before her melancholy adventure.  The same furniture was still in it, nothing had been removed; but that which pleased her most was, to find Ganem’s chests and bales, which Mesrour had received the caliph’s orders to convey thither.

The next day Haroon al Rusheed ordered the grand vizier, to cause proclamation to be made throughout all his dominions, that he pardoned Ganem the son of Abou Ayoub; but this proved of no effect, for a long time elapsed without any news of the young merchant.  Fetnah concluded, that he had not been able to survive the pain of losing her.  A dreadful uneasiness seized her mind; but as hope is the last thing which forsakes lovers, she entreated the caliph to give her leave to seek for Ganem herself; which being granted, she took a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold, and went one morning out of the palace, mounted on a mule from the caliph’s stables, very richly caparisoned.  Black eunuchs attended her, with a hand placed on each side of the mule’s back.

Thus she went from mosque to mosque, bestowing her alms among the devotees of the Mahummedan religion, desiring their prayers for the accomplishment of an affair, on which the happiness of two persons, she told them, depended.  She spend the whole day and the thousand pieces of gold in giving alms at the mosques, and returned to the palace in the evening.

The next day she took another purse of the same value, and in the like equipage as the day before, went to the square of the jewellers’ shops, and stopping at the gateway without alighting, sent one of her black eunuchs for the syndic or chief of them.  The syndic, who was a most charitable man, and spent above two-thirds of his income in relieving poor strangers, sick or in distress, did not make Fetnah wait, knowing by her dress that she was a lady belonging to the palace.  “I apply myself to you,” said she, putting the purse into his hands, “as a person whose piety is celebrated throughout the city.  I desire you to distribute that gold among the poor strangers you relieve, for I know you make it your business to assist those who apply to your charity.  I am also satisfied that you prevent their wants, and that nothing is more grateful to you, than to have an opportunity of relieving their misery.”  “Madam,” answered the syndic, “I shall obey your commands with pleasure; but if you desire to exercise your charity in person, and will be pleased to step to my house, you will there see two women worthy of your compassion; I met them yesterday as they were coming into the city; they were in a deplorable condition, and it moved me the more, because I thought they were persons of rank.  Through all the rags that covered them, notwithstanding the impression the sun has made on their faces, I discovered a noble air, not to be commonly found in those people I relieve.  I carried them both to my house, and delivered them to my wife, who was of the same opinion with me.  She caused her slaves to provide them good beds, whilst she herself led them to our warm bath, and gave them clean linen.  We know not as yet who they are, because we wish to let them take some rest before we trouble them with our questions.”

Fetnah, without knowing why, felt a curiosity to see them.  The syndic would have conducted her to his house, but she would not give him the trouble, and was satisfied that a slave should shew her the way.  She alighted at the door, and followed the syndic’s slave, who was gone before to give notice to his mistress, she being then in the chamber with Jalib al Koolloob and her mother, for they were the persons the syndic had been speaking of to Fetnah.

The syndic’s wife being informed by the slave, that a lady from the palace was in her house, was hastening to meet her; but Fetnah, who had followed the slave, did not give her time:  on her coming into the chamber, the syndic’s wife prostrated herself before her, to express the respect she had for all who belonged to the caliph.  Fetnah raised her up, and said, “My good lady, I desire you will let me speak with those two strangers that arrived at Bagdad last night.”  “Madam,” answered the syndic’s wife, “they lie in those beds you see by each other.”  The favourite immediately drew near the mother’s, and viewing her carefully, “Good woman,” said she, “I come to offer you my assistance:  I have considerable interest in this city, and may be of service to you and your companion.”  “Madam,” answered Ganem’s mother, “I perceive by your obliging offers, that Heaven has not quite forsaken us, though we had cause to believe it had, after so many misfortunes as have befallen us.”  Having uttered these words, she wept so bitterly that Fetnah and the syndic’s wife could not forbear letting fall some tears.

The caliph’s favourite having dried up hers, said to Ganem’s mother, “Be so kind as to tell us your misfortunes, and recount your story.  You cannot make the relation to any persons better disposed to use all possible means to comfort you.”  “Madam,” replied Abou Ayoub’s disconsolate widow, “a favourite of the commander of the true believers, a lady whose name is Fetnah, is the occasion of all our misfortunes.”  These words were like a thunderbolt to the favourite; but suppressing her agitation and concern, she suffered Ganem’s mother to proceed in the following manner:  “I am the widow of Abou Ayoub, a merchant of Damascus; I had a son called Ganem, who, coming to trade at Bagdad, has been accused of carrying off Fetnah.  The caliph caused search to be made for him every where, to put him to death; but not finding him, he wrote to the king of Damascus, to cause our house to be plundered and razed, and to expose my daughter and myself three days successively, naked, to the populace, and then to banish us out of Syria for ever.  But how unworthy soever our usage has been, I should be still comforted were my son alive, and I could meet with him.  What a pleasure would it be for his sister and me to see him again!  Embracing him we should forget the loss of our property, and all the evils we have suffered on his account.  Alas!  I am fully persuaded he is only the innocent cause of them; and that he is no more guilty towards the caliph than his sister and myself.”

“No doubt of it,” said Fetnah, interrupting her there, “he is no more guilty than you are; I can assure you of his innocence; for I am that very Fetnah, you so much complain of; who, through some fatality in my stars, have occasioned you so many misfortunes.  To me you must impute the loss of your son, if he is no more; but if I have occasioned your misfortune, I can in some measure relieve it.  I have already justified Ganem to the caliph; who has caused it to be proclaimed throughout his dominions, that he pardons the son of Abou Ayoub; and doubt not he will do you as much good as he has done you injury.  You are no longer his enemies.  He waits for Ganem, to requite the service he has done me, by uniting our fortunes; he gives me to him for his consort, therefore look on me as your daughter, and permit me to vow eternal duty and affection.”  Having so said, she bowed down on Ganem’s mother, who was so astonished that she could return no answer.  Fetnah held her long in her arms, and only left her to embrace the daughter, who, sitting up, held out her arms to receive her.

When the caliph’s favourite had strewn the mother and daughter all tokens of affection, as Ganem’s wife, she said to them, “The wealth Ganem had in this city is not lost, it is in my apartment in the palace; but I know all the treasure of the world cannot comfort you without Ganem, if I may judge of you by myself.  Blood is no less powerful than love in great minds; but why should we despair of seeing him again?  We shall find him; the happiness of meeting with you makes me conceive fresh hopes.  Perhaps this is the last day of your sufferings, and the beginning of a greater felicity than you enjoyed in Damascus, when Ganem was with you.”

Fetnah would have proceeded, but the syndic of the jewellers coming in interrupted her:  “Madam,” said he to her, “I come from seeing a very moving object, it is a young man, whom a camel-driver had just carried to an hospital:  he was bound with cords on a camel, because he had not strength enough to sit.  They had already unbound him, and were carrying him into the hospital, when I happened to pass by.  I went up to the young man, viewed him attentively, and fancied his countenance was not altogether unknown to me.  I asked him some questions concerning his family and his country; but all the answers I could get were sighs and tears.  I took pity on him, and being so much used to sick people, perceived that he had need to have particular care taken of him.  I would not permit him to be put into the hospital; for I am too well acquainted with their way of managing the sick, and am sensible of the incapacity of the physicians.  I have caused him to be brought to my own house, by my slaves; and they are now in a private room where I placed him, putting on some of my own linen, and treating him as they would do myself.”

Fetnah’s heart beat at these words of the jeweller, and she felt a sudden emotion, for which she could not account:  “Shew me,” said she to the syndic, “into the sick man’s room; I should be glad to see him.”  The syndic conducted her, and whilst she was going thither, Ganem’s mother said to Jalib al Koolloob, “Alas! daughter, wretched as that sick stranger is, your brother, if he be living, is not perhaps in a more happy condition.”

The caliph’s favourite coming into the chamber of the sick stranger, drew near the bed, in which the syndic’s slaves had already laid him.  She saw a young man, whose eyes were closed, his countenance pale, disfigured, and bathed in tears.  She gazed earnestly on him, her heart beat, and she fancied she beheld Ganem; but yet she would not believe her eyes.  Though she found something of Ganem in the objets she beheld, yet in other respects he appeared so different, that she durst not imagine it was he that lay before her.  Unable, however, to withstand the earnest desire of being satisfied, “Ganem,” said she, with a trembling voice, “is it you I behold?” Having spoken these words, she stopped to give the young man time to answer, but observing that he seemed insensible; “Alas!  Ganem,” added she, “it is not you that I address!  My imagination being overcharged with your image, has given to a stranger a deceitful resemblance.  The son of Abou Ayoub, however indisposed, would know the voice of Fetnah.”  At the name of Fetnah, Ganem (for it was really he) opened his eyes, sprang up, and knowing the caliph’s favourite; “Ah! madam,” said he, “by what miracle” He could say no more; such a sudden transport of joy seized him that he fainted away.  Fetnah and the syndic did all they could to bring him to himself; but as soon as they perceived he began to revive, the syndic desired the lady to withdraw, lest the sight of her should heighten his disorder.

The young man having recovered, looked all around, and not seeing what he sought, exclaimed, “What is become of you, charming Fetnah?  Did you really appear before my eyes, or was it only an illusion?” “No, sir,” said the syndic, “it was no illusion.  It was I that caused the lady to withdraw, but you shall see her again, as soon as you are in a condition to bear the interview.  You now stand in need of rest, and nothing ought to obstruct your taking it.  The situation of your affairs is altered, since you are, as I suppose, that Ganem, in favour of whom the commander of the true believers has caused a proclamation to be made in Bagdad, declaring, that he forgives him what is passed.  Be satisfied, for the present, with knowing so much; the lady, who just now spoke to you, will acquaint you with the rest, therefore think of nothing but recovering your health; I will contribute all in my power towards it.”  Having spoke these words, he left Ganem to take his rest, and went himself to provide for him such medicines as were proper to recover his strength, exhausted by hard living and toil.

During this time Fetnah was in the room with Jalib al Koolloob and her mother, where almost the same scene was acted over again; for when Ganem’s mother understood that the sick stranger whom the syndic had brought into his house was Ganem himself, she was so overjoyed, that she also swooned away, and when, with the assistance of Fetnah and the syndic’s wife, she was again come to herself, she would have arisen to go and see her son; but the syndic coming in, hindered her, representing that Ganem was so weak and emaciated, that it would endanger his life to excite in him those emotions, which must be the consequence of the unexpected sight of a beloved mother and sister.  There was no occasion for the syndic’s saying any more to Ganem’s mother; as soon as she was told that she could not converse with her son, without hazarding his life, she ceased insisting to go and see him.  Fetnah then said, “Let us bless Heaven for having brought us all together.  I will return to the palace to give the caliph an account of these adventures, and tomorrow morning I will return to you.”  This said, she embraced the mother and the daughter, and went away.  As soon as she came to the palace, she sent Mesrour to request a private audience of the caliph, which was immediately granted; and being brought into the prince’s closet, where he was alone, she prostrated herself at his feet, with her face on the ground, according to custom.  He commanded her to rise, and having made her sit down, asked whether she had heard any news of Ganem?  “Commander of the true believers,” said she, “I have been so successful, that I have found him, and also his mother and sister.”  The caliph was curious to know how she had discovered them in so short a time, and she satisfied his inquiries, saying so many things in commendation of Ganem’s mother and sister, he desired to see them as well as the young merchant.

Though Haroon al Rusheed was passionate, and in his heat sometimes guilty of cruel actions; yet he was just, and the most generous prince in the world, when the storm of anger was over, and he was made sensible of the wrong he had done.  Having therefore no longer cause to doubt but that he had unjustly persecuted Ganem and his family, and had publicly wronged them, he resolved to make them public satisfaction.  “I am overjoyed,” said he to Fetnah, “that your search has proved so successful; it is a real satisfaction to me, not so much for your sake as for my own.  I will keep the promise I have made you.  You shall marry Ganem, and I here declare you are no longer my slave; you are free.  Go back to that young merchant, and as soon as he has recovered his health, you shall bring him to me with his mother and sister.”

The next morning early Fetnah repaired to the syndic of the jewellers, being impatient to hear of Ganem’s health, and tell the mother and daughter the good news she had for them.  The first person she met was the syndic, who told her that Ganem had rested well that night; and that his disorder proceeding altogether from melancholy, the cause being removed, he would soon recover his health.

Accordingly the son of Abou Ayoub was speedily much amended.  Rest, and the good medicines he had taken, but above all the different situation of his mind, had wrought so good an effect, that the syndic thought he might without danger see his mother, his sister, and his mistress, provided he was prepared to receive them; because there was ground to fear, that, not knowing his mother and sister were at Bagdad, the sight of them might occasion too great surprise and joy.  It was therefore resolved, that Fetnah should first go alone into Ganem’s chamber, and then make a sign to the two other ladies to appear, when she thought it was proper.

Matters being so ordered, the syndic announced Fetnah’s coming to the sick man, who was so transported to see her, that he was again near fainting away, “Well, Ganem,” said she, drawing near to his bed, “you have again found your Fetnah, whom you thought you had lost for ever.”  “Ah! madam,” exclaimed he, eagerly interrupting her, “what miracle has restored you to my sight?  I thought you were in the caliph’s palace; he has doubtless listened to you.  You have dispelled his jealousy, and he has restored you to his favour.”

“Yes, my dear Ganem,” answered Fetnah, “I have cleared myself before the commander of the true believers, who, to make amends for the wrong he has done you, bestows me on you for a wife.”  These last words occasioned such an excess of joy in Ganem, that he knew not for a while how to express himself, otherwise than by that passionate silence so well known to lovers.  At length he broke out in these words:  “Beautiful Fetnah, may I give credit to what you tell me?  May I believe that the caliph really resigns you to Abou Ayoub’s son?” “Nothing is more certain,” answered the lady.  “The caliph, who before caused search to be made for you, to take away your life, and who in his fury caused your mother and your sister to suffer a thousand indignities, desires now to see you, that he may reward the respect you had for him; and there is no question but that he will load your family with favours.”

Ganem asked, what the caliph had done to his mother and sister, which Fetnah told him; and he could not forbear letting fall some tears at the relation, notwithstanding the thoughts which arose in his mind at the prospect of being married to his mistress.  But when Fetnah informed him, that they were actually in Bagdad, and in the same house with him, he appeared so impatient to see them, that the favourite could no longer defer giving him the satisfaction; and accordingly called them in.  They were at the door waiting for that moment.  They entered, went up to Ganem, and embracing him in their turns, kissed him a thousand times.  What tears were shed amidst those embraces!  Ganem’s face was bathed with them, as well as his mother’s and sisters; and Fetnah let fall abundance.  The syndic himself and his wife were so moved at the spectacle, that they could not forbear weeping, nor sufficiently admire the secret workings of Providence which had brought together into their house four persons, whom fortune had so cruelly persecuted.

When they had dried up their tears, Ganem drew them afresh, by the recital of what he had suffered from the day he left Fetnah, till the moment the syndic brought him to his house.  He told them, that having taken refuge in a small village, he there fell sick; that some charitable peasants had taken care of him, but finding he did not recover, a camel-driver had undertaken to carry him to the hospital at Bagdad.  Fetnah also told them all the uneasiness of her imprisonment, how the caliph, having heard her talk in the tower, had sent for her into his closet, and how she had cleared herself.  In conclusion, when they had related what accidents had befallen them, Fetnah said, “Let us bless Heaven, which has brought us all together again, and let us think of nothing but the happiness that awaits us.  As soon as Ganem has recovered his health, he must appear before the caliph, with his mother and sister; but I will go and make some provision for them.”

This said, she went to the palace, and soon returned with a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold, which she delivered to the syndic, desiring him to buy apparel for the mother and daughter.  The syndic, who was a man of a good taste, chose such as were very handsome, and had them made up with all expedition.  They were finished in three days, and Ganem finding himself strong enough, prepared to go abroad; but on the day he had appointed to pay his respects to the caliph, while he was making ready, with his mother and sister, the grand vizier, Jaaffier came to the syndic’s house.

He had come on horseback, attended by a great number of officers.  “Sir,” said he to Ganem, as soon as he entered, “I am come from the commander of the true believers, my master and yours; the orders I have differ much from those which I do not wish to revive in your memory; I am to bear you company, and to present you to the caliph, who is desirous to see you.”  Ganem returned no other answer to the vizier’s compliment, than by profoundly bowing his head, and then mounted a horse brought from the caliph’s stables, which he managed very gracefully.  The mother and daughter were mounted on mules belonging to the palace, and whilst Fetnah on another mule led them by a bye-way to the prince’s court, Jaaffier conducted Ganem, and brought him into the hall of audience.  The caliph was sitting on his throne, encompassed with emirs, viziers, and other attendants and courtiers, Arabs, Persians, Egyptians, Africans, and Syrians, of his own dominions, not to mention strangers.

When the vizier had conducted Ganem to the foot of the throne, the young merchant paid his obeisance, prostrating himself with his face to the ground, and then rising, made a handsome compliment in verse, which, though the effusion of the moment, met with the approbation of the whole court.  After his compliment, the caliph caused him to approach, and said, “I am glad to see you, and desire to hear from your own mouth where you found my favourite, and all that you have done for her.”  Ganem obeyed, and appeared so sincere, that the caliph was convinced of his veracity.  He ordered a very rich vest to be given him, according to the custom observed towards those who are admitted to audience.  After which he said to him, “Ganem, I will have you live in my court.”  “Commander of the true believers,” answered the young merchant, “a slave has no will but his master’s, on whom his life and fortune depend.”  The caliph was highly pleased with Ganem’s reply, and assigned him a considerable pension.  He then descended from his throne, and causing only Ganem and the grand vizier, follow him, retired into his own apartment.

Not questioning but that Fetnah was in waiting, with Abou Ayoub’s widow and daughter, he caused them to be called in.  They prostrated themselves before him:  he made them rise; and was so charmed by Jalib al Koolloob’s beauty, that, after viewing her very attentively, he said, “I am so sorry for having treated your charms so unworthily, that I owe them such a satisfaction as may surpass the injury I have done.  I take you to wife; and by that means shall punish Zobeide, who shall become the first cause of your good fortune, as she was of your past sufferings.  This is not all,” added he, turning towards Ganem’s mother; “you are still young, I believe you will not disdain to be allied to my grand vizier, I give you to Jaaffier, and you, Fetnah, to Ganem.  Let a cauzee and witnesses be called, and the three contracts be drawn up and signed immediately.”  Ganem would have represented to the caliph, that it would be honour enough for his sister to be one of his favourites; but he was resolved to marry her.

Haroon thought this such an extraordinary story, that he ordered his historiographer to commit it to writing with all its circumstances.  It was afterwards laid up in his library, and many copies being transcribed, it became public.

End of Volume 1.

Text scanned and proofread by JC Byers (http://www.capitalnet.com/~jcbyers/index.htm)

The “Aldine” Edition of

The Arabian Nights Entertainments

Illustrated by S. L. Wood

From the text of Dr. Jonathan Scott

In Four Volumes

Volume 2

London
Pickering and Chatto
1890

Contents of Volume II.

The Story of the Little Hunch-Back
The Story Told by the Christian Merchant
The Story Told by the Sultan of Casgar’s Purveyor
The Story Told by the Jewish Physician
The Story Told by the Tailor
The Story Told by the Barber
The Story Told by the Barber’s Eldest Brother
The Story Told by the Barber’s Second Brother
The Story Told by the Barber’s Third Brother
The Story Told by the Barber’s Fourth Brother
The Story Told by the Barber’s Fifth Brother
The Story Told by the Barber’s Sixth Brother

The History of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Ecar, and Schemselnihar, Favourite of Caliph Haroon Al Rusheed

The Story of the Loves of Kummir Al Zummaun, Prince of the Isles of the Children of Khaledan, and of Badoura, Princess of China

The Story of the Princes Amgiad and Assad
The Story of the Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of
Magicians

The Story of Noor Ad Deen and the Fair Persian

The story of the little hunch-back.

There was in former times at Casgar, on the extreme boundaries of Tartary, a tailor who had a pretty wife, whom he affectionately loved, and by whom he was beloved with reciprocal tenderness.  One day while he was at work, a little hunch-back seated himself at the shop door and began to sing, and play upon a tabor.  The tailor was pleased with his performance, and resolved to take him to his house to entertain his wife:  “This little fellow,” said he, “will divert us both this evening.”  He accordingly invited him, and the other readily accepted the invitation:  so the tailor shut up his shop, and carried him home.  Immediately after their arrival the tailor’s wife placed before them a good dish of fish; but as the little man was eating, he unluckily swallowed a bone, which, notwithstanding all that the tailor and his wife could do, choked him.  This accident greatly alarmed them both, dreading, if the magistrates should hear of it, that they would be punished as murderers.  However, the husband devised a scheme to get rid of the corpse.  He reflected that a Jewish doctor lived just by, and having formed his plan, his wife and he took the corpse, the one by the feet and the other by the head, and carried it to the physician’s house.  They knocked at the door, from which a steep flight of stairs led to his chamber.  The servant maid came down without any light, and opening the door, asked what they wanted.  “Have the goodness,” said the tailor, “to go up again, and tell your master we have brought him a man who is very ill, and wants his advice.  Here,” continued he, putting a piece of money into her hand, “give him that beforehand, to convince him that we do not mean to impose.”  While the servant was gone up to inform her master, the tailor and his wife hastily conveyed the hunchbacked corpse to the head of the stairs, and leaving it there, hurried away.

In the mean time, the maid told the doctor, that a man and woman waited for him at the door, desiring he would come down and look at a sick man whom they had brought with them, and clapped into his hand the money she had received.  The doctor was transported with joy; being paid beforehand, he thought it must needs be a good patient, and should not be neglected.  “Light, light,” cried he to the maid; “follow me quickly.”  As he spoke, he hastily ran towards the head of the stairs without waiting for a light, and came against the corpse with so much violence that he precipitated it to the bottom, and had nearly fallen with it.  “Bring me a light,” cried he to the maid; “quick, quick.”  At last she brought one, and he went down stairs with her; but when he saw that what he had kicked down was a dead man, he was so frightened, that he invoked Moses, Aaron, Joshua, Esdras, and all the other prophets of his nation.  “Unhappy man that I am,” said he, “why did I attempt to come without a light!  I have killed the poor fellow who was brought to me to be cured:  doubtless I am the cause of his death, and unless Esdras’s ass come to assist me, I am ruined:  Mercy on me, they will be here out of hand, and drag me out of my house for a murderer.”

Notwithstanding the perplexity and confusion into which he was thrown, he had the precaution to shut his door, for fear any one passing by should observe the accident of which he reckoned himself to be the author.  He then took the corpse into his wife’s chamber, who was ready to swoon at the sight.  “Alas,” cried she, “we are utterly ruined and undone, unless we can devise some expedient to get the corpse out of our house this night.  If we harbour it till morning we are lost.  What a deplorable misfortune is this!  What have you done to kill this man?” “That is not now the question,” replied the Jew; “our business at present is, to find a remedy for the evil which threatens us.”

The doctor and his wife consulted how to dispose of the corpse that night.  The doctor racked his brain in vain, he could not think of any stratagem to relieve his embarrassment; but his wife, who was more fertile in invention, said, “A thought is just come into my head; let us carry the corpse to the terrace of our house, and throw it down the chimney of our Mussulmaun neighbour.”

This Mussulmaun was one of the sultan’s purveyors for furnishing oil, butter, and articles of a similar nature, and had a magazine in his house, where the rats and mice made prodigious havoc.

The Jewish doctor approving the proposed expedient, the wife and he took the little hunch-back up to the roof of the house; and clapping ropes under his arm-pits, let him down the chimney into the purveyor’s chamber so dexterously that he stood upright against the wall, as if he had been alive.  When they found he had reached the bottom, they pulled up the ropes, and left the corpse in that posture.  They were scarcely got down into their chamber, when the purveyor, who had just returned from a wedding feast, went into his room, with a lanthorn in his hand.  He was not a little surprised to discover a man standing in his chimney; but being a stout fellow, and apprehending him to be a thief, he took up a stick, and making straight up to the hunch-back, “Ah!” said he, “I thought the rats and mice ate my butter and tallow; but it is you who come down the chimney to rob me?  However, I think you will have no wish to come here again.”  Upon this he attacked hunch-back, and struck him several times with his stick.  The corpse fell down flat on the ground, and the purveyor redoubled his blows.  But, observing that the body did not move, he stood a little time to regard it; and then, perceiving it to be dead, fear succeeded his anger.  “Wretched man that I am,” said he, “what have I done!  I have killed a man; alas, I have carried my revenge too far.  Good God, unless thou pity me my life is gone!  Cursed, ten thousand times accursed, be the fat and the oil that occasioned me to commit so criminal an action.”  He stood pale and thunderstruck; he fancied he already saw the officers come to drag him to condign punishment, and could not tell what resolution to take.

The sultan of Casgar’s purveyor had never noticed the little man’s hump-back when he was beating him, but as soon as he perceived it, he uttered a thousand imprecations against him.  “Ah, thou cursed hunch-back,” cried he, “thou crooked wretch, would to God thou hadst robbed me of all my fat, and I had not found thee here.  I then should not have been thrown into this perplexity on account of this and thy vile hunch.  Ye stars that twinkle in the heavens, give your light to none but me in this dangerous juncture.”  As soon as he had uttered these words, he took the crooked corpse upon his shoulders, and carried it to the end of the street, where he placed it in an upright posture against a shop; he then returned without once looking behind him.

A few minutes before day-break, a Christian merchant, who was very rich, and furnished the sultan’s palace with various articles, having sat up all night at a debauch, happened to come from his house in this direction on his way to the bath.  Though he was intoxicated, he was sensible that the night was far spent, and that the people would soon be called to morning prayers; he therefore quickened his pace to get to the bath in time, lest some Mussulmaun, in his way to the mosque, should meet him and carry him to prison for a drunkard.  When he came to the end of the street, he had occasion to stop by the shop where the sultan’s purveyor had put the hunch-backed corpse; which being jostled by him, tumbled upon the merchant’s back.  The merchant thinking he was attacked by a robber, knocked it down, and after redoubling his blows, cried out “Thieves!”

The outcry alarmed the watch, who came up immediately, and finding a Christian beating a Mussulmaun (for hump-back was of our religion), “What reason have you,” said he, “to abuse a Mussulmaun in this manner?” “He would have robbed me,” replied the merchant, “and jumped upon my back in order to take me by the throat.”  “If he did,” said the watch, “you have revenged yourself sufficiently; come, get off him.”  At the same time he stretched out his hand to help little hump-back up, but observing he was dead, “Oh!” said he, “is it thus that a Christian dares to assassinate a Mussulmaun?” So saying, he laid hold of the Christian, and carried him to the house of the officer of the police, where he was kept till the judge was stirring, and ready to examine him.  In the mean time, the Christian merchant became sober, and the more he reflected upon his adventure, the less could he conceive how such slight blows of his fist could have killed the man.

The judge having heard the report of the watch, and viewed the corpse, which they had taken care to bring to his house, interrogated the Christian merchant, who could not deny the crime, though he had not committed it.  But the judge considering that little hump-back belonged to the sultan, for he was one of his buffoons, would not put the Christian to death till he knew the sultan’s pleasure.  For this end he went to the palace, and acquainted the sultan with what had happened; and received this answer:  “I have no mercy to show to a Christian who kills a Mussulmaun.”  Upon this the judge ordered a stake to be prepared, and sent criers all over the city to proclaim that they were about to impale a Christian for killing a Mussulmaun.

At length the merchant was brought to the place of execution; and the executioner was about to do his duty, when the sultan’s purveyor pushed through the crowd, calling to him to stop for that the Christian had not committed the murder, but he himself had done it.  Upon that, the officer who attended the execution began to question the purveyor, who told him every circumstance of his having killed the little hunchback, and how he had conveyed his corpse to the place where the Christian merchant had found it.  “You were about,” added he, “to put to death an innocent person; for how can he be guilty of the death of a man who was dead before he touched him?  It is enough for me to have killed a Mussulmaun without loading my conscience with the death of a Christian who is not guilty.”

The sultan of Casgar’s purveyor having publicly charged himself with the death of the little hunchbacked man, the officer could do no less than execute justice on the merchant.  “Let the Christian go,” said he to the executioner, “and impale this man in his stead, since it appears by his own confession that he is guilty.”  Thereupon the executioner released the merchant, and seized the purveyor; but just as he was going to impale him, he heard the voice of the Jewish doctor, earnestly intreating him to suspend the execution, and make room for him to approach.

When he appeared before the judge, “My lord,” said he, “this Mussulmaun you are going to execute is not guilty.  I am the criminal.  Last night a man and a woman, unknown to me, came to my door with a sick man; my maid went and opened it without a light, and received from them a piece of money with a commission to come and desire me, in their name, to step down and look at the patient.  While she was delivering her message, they conveyed the sick person to the stair-head, and disappeared.  I went, without staying till my servant had lighted a candle, and in the dark happened to stumble upon the sick person, and kick him down stairs.  At length I saw he was dead, and that it was the crooked Mussulmaun whose death you are now about to avenge.  My wife and I took the corpse, and, after conveying it up to the roof of the purveyor, our next neighbour, whom you were going to put to death unjustly, let it down the chimney into his chamber.  The purveyor finding it in his house, took the little man for a thief, and after beating him concluded he had killed him.  But that it was not so you will be convinced by this my deposition; I am the sole author of the murder; and though it was committed undesignedly, I am resolved to expiate my crime, that I may not have to charge myself with the death of two Mussulmauns.”

The chief justice being persuaded that the Jewish doctor was the murderer, gave orders to the executioner to seize him and release the purveyor.  Accordingly the doctor was just going to be impaled, when the tailor appeared, crying to the executioner to hold his hand, and make room for him, that he might come and make his confession to the chief judge.  Room being made, “My lord,” said he, “you have narrowly escaped taking away the lives of three innocent persons; but if you will have the patience to hear me, I will discover to you the real murderer of the crook backed man.  If his death is to be expiated by another, that must be mine.  Yesterday, towards the evening, as I was at work in my shop, and was disposed to be merry, the little hunch-back came to my door half-drunk, and sat down.  He sung a little, and so I invited him to pass the evening at my house.  He accepted the invitation and went in with me.  We sat down to supper and I gave him a plate of fish; but in eating, a bone stuck in his throat, and though my wife and I did our utmost to relieve him, he died in a few minutes.  His death afflicted us extremely, and for fear of being charged with it, we carried the corpse to the Jewish doctor’s house and knocked.  The maid came and opened the door; I desired her to go up again and ask her master to come down and give his advice to a sick person whom we had brought along with us; and withal, to encourage him, I charged her to give him a piece of money, which I put into her hand.  When she was gone, I carried the hunch-back up stairs, and laid him upon the uppermost step, and then my wife and I made the best of our way home.  The doctor coming, threw the corpse down stairs, and concluded himself to be the author of his death.  This being the case,” continued he, “release the doctor, and let me die in his stead.”

The chief justice, and all the spectators, wondered at the strange events which had ensued upon the death of the little hunch-back.  “Let the Jewish doctor go,” said the judge, “and seize the tailor, since he confesses the crime.  It is certain this history is very uncommon, and deserves to be recorded in letters of gold.”  The executioner having dismissed the doctor prepared to impale the tailor.

While the executioner was making ready to impale the tailor, the sultan of Casgar, wanting the company of his crooked jester, asked where he was; and one of his officers told him; “The hunch-back, Sir, whom you inquire after, got drunk last night, and contrary to his custom slipped out of the palace, and went strolling about the city, and this morning was found dead.  A man was brought before the chief justice, and charged with the murder of him; but when he was going to be impaled, up came a man, and after him another, who took the charge upon themselves and cleared one another, and the judge is now examining a third, who gives himself out for the real author of the murder.”

Upon this intelligence the sultan of Casgar sent an officer to the place of execution.  “Go,” said he, “with all expedition, and tell the judge to bring the accused persons before me immediately and bring also the corpse of poor hunch-back, that I may see him once more.”  Accordingly the officer went, and happened to arrive at the place of execution at the very time that the executioner had laid his hands upon the tailor.  He called aloud to him to suspend the execution.  The executioner knowing the officer, did not dare to proceed, but released the tailor; and then the officer acquainted the judge with the sultan’s pleasure.  The judge obeyed, and went directly to the palace accompanied by the tailor, the Jewish doctor, and the Christian merchant; and made four of his men carry the hunch-backed corpse along with him.

When they appeared in the sultan’s presence, the judge threw himself at the prince’s feet and after recovering himself, gave him a faithful relation of what he knew of the story of the hunch-backed man.  The story appeared so extraordinary to the sultan, that he ordered his own historian to write it down with all its circumstances.  Then addressing himself to the audience; “Did you ever hear,” said he, “such a surprising event as has happened on the account of my little crooked buffoon?” The Christian merchant, after falling down, and touching the earth with his forehead, spoke as follows:  “Most puissant monarch, I know a story yet more astonishing than this; if your majesty will give me leave, I will relate it.  The circumstances are such, that no one can hear them without emotion.”  “Well,” said the sultan, “you have my permission:”  and the merchant went on as follows:

The Story told by the Christian Merchant.

Sir, before I commence the recital of the story you have permitted me to relate, I beg leave to acquaint you, that I have not the honour to be born in any part of your majesty’s empire.  I am a stranger, born at Cairo in Egypt, a Copt by nation, and by religion a Christian.  My father was a broker, and realized considerable property, which he left me at his death.  I followed his example, and pursued the same employment.  While I was standing in the public inn frequented by the corn merchants, there came up to me a handsome young man, well dressed, and mounted on an ass.  He saluted me, and pulling out a handkerchief, in which he had a sample of sesame or Turkey corn, asked me how much a bushel of such sesame would fetch.

I examined the corn the young man shewed me, and told him it was worth a hundred dirhems of silver per bushel.  “Pray,” said he, “look out for some merchant to take it at that price, and come to me at the Victory gate, where you will see a khan at a distance from the houses.”  So saying, he left me the sample, and I shewed it to several merchants, who told me, that they would take as much as I could spare at a hundred and ten dirhems per bushel, so that I reckoned on getting ten dirhems per bushel for my commission.  Full of the expectation of this profit, I went to the Victory gate, where I found the young merchant expecting me, and he took me into his granary, which was full of sesame.  He had then a hundred and fifty bushels, which I measured out, and having carried them off upon asses, sold them for five thousand dirhems of silver.  “Out of this sum,” said the young man, “there are five hundred dirhems coming to you, at the rate of ten dirhems per bushel.  This I give you; and as for the rest which pertains to me, take it out of the merchants’ hands, and keep it till I call or send for it, for I have no occasion for it at present.”  I answered, it should be ready for him whenever he pleased to demand it; and so, kissing his hand, took leave of him, with a grateful sense of his generosity.

A month passed before he came near me:  then he asked for the sum he had committed to my trust.  I told him it was ready, and should be counted to him immediately.  He was mounted on his ass, and I desired him to alight, and do me the honour to eat a mouthful with me before he received his money.  “No,” said he, “I cannot alight at present, I have urgent business that obliges me to be at a place just by; but I will return this way, and then take the money which I desired you would have in readiness.”  This said, he disappeared, and I still expected his return, but it was a full month before I saw him again.  “This young merchant,” thought I, “has great confidence in me, leaving so great a sum in my hands without knowing me; any other man would have been afraid I should have run away with it.”  To be short, he came again at the end of the third month, and was still mounted on his ass, but more handsomely dressed than before.

As soon as I saw the young man, I intreated him to alight, and asked him if he would not take his money?  “There is no hurry,” said he, with a pleasant easy air, “I know it is in good hands; I will come and take it when my other money is all gone.  Adieu,” continued he, “I will return towards the end of the week.”  With that he struck the ass, and soon disappeared.  “Well,” thought I, “he says he will see me towards the end of the week, but he may not perhaps return for a great while; I will make the most I can of his money, which may bring me much profit.”

As it happened, I was not deceived in my conjecture; for it was a full year before I saw my young merchant again.  He then appeared as richly appareled as before, but seemed to have something on his spirits.  I asked him to do me the honour to walk into my house.  “For this time,” replied he, “I will:  but on this condition, that you shall put yourself to no extraordinary charge on my account.”  “I will do just as you please,” said I, “only do me the favour to alight and walk in.”  Accordingly he complied.  I gave orders to have a repast prepared, and while this was doing, we entered into conversation.  All things being ready, we sat down.  I observed he took the first mouthful with his left hand, and not with the right.  I was at a loss what to think of this.  “Ever since I have known this young man,” said I inwardly, “he has always appeared very polite; is it possible he can do this out of contempt?  What can be the reason he does not use his right hand?”

After we had done eating, and every thing was taken away, we sat upon a sofa, and I presented him with a lozenge by way of dainty; but still he took it with his left hand.  I said to him, “Pardon, Sir, the liberty I take in asking you what reason you have for not using your right hand?  Perhaps you have some complaint in that hand.”  Instead of answering, he heaved a deep sigh, and pulling out his right arm, which he had hitherto kept under his vest, shewed me, to my great astonishment, that it had been cut off.  “Doubtless you were displeased,” said he, “to see me feed myself with the left hand; but I leave you to judge, whether it was in my power to do otherwise.”  “May one ask,” said I, “by what mischance you lost your right hand?” Upon that he burst into tears, and after wiping his eyes, gave me the following relation.

You must know that I am a native of Bagdad, the son of a rich merchant, the most eminent in that city for rank and opulence.  I had scarcely launched into the world, when falling into the company of travellers, and hearing their wonderful accounts of Egypt, especially of Grand Cairo, I was interested by their discourse, and felt a strong desire to travel.  But my father was then alive, and would not grant me permission.  At length he died; and being then my own master, I resolved to take a journey to Cairo.  I laid out a large sum of money in the purchase of several sorts of fine stuffs of Bagdad and Moussol and departed.

Arriving at Cairo, I went to the khan, called the khan of Mesrour, and there took lodgings, with a warehouse for my bales, which I had brought with me upon camels.  This done, I retired to my chamber to rest, after the fatigue of my journey, and gave some money to my servants, with orders to buy some provisions and dress them.  After I had eaten, I went to view the castle, some mosques, the public squares, and the other most remarkable places.

Next day I dressed myself, and ordered some of the finest and richest of my bales to be selected and carried by my slaves to the Circassian bazaar, whither I followed.  I had no sooner made my appearance, than I was surrounded with brokers and criers who had heard of my arrival.  I gave patterns of my stuffs to several of the criers, who shewed them all over the bazaar; but none of the merchants offered near so much as prime cost and carriage.  This vexed me, and the criers observing I was dissatisfied, said, “If you will take our advice, we will put you in a way to sell your goods without loss.”

The brokers and the criers, having thus promised to put me in a way of losing nothing by my goods, I asked them what course they would have me pursue.  “Divide your goods,” said they, “among several merchants, they will sell them by retail; and twice a week, that is on Mondays and Thursdays, you may receive what money they may have taken.  By this means, instead of losing, you will turn your goods to advantage, and the merchants will gain by you.  In the mean while you will have time to take your pleasure about the town or go upon the Nile.”

I took their advice, and conducted them to my warehouse; from whence I brought all my goods to the bazaar, and there divided them among the merchants whom they represented as most reputable and able to pay; and the merchants gave me a formal receipt before witnesses, stipulating that I should not making any demands upon them for the first month.

Having thus regulated my affairs, my mind was occupied with ordinary pleasures.  I contracted acquaintance with divers persons of nearly the same age with myself, which made the time pass agreeably.  After the first month had expired, I began to visit my merchants twice a week, taking with me a public officer to inspect their books of sale, and a banker to see that they paid me in good money, and to regulate the value of the several coins.  Every pay-day, I had a good sum of money to carry home to my lodging at the khan of Mesrour.  I went on other days to pass the morning sometimes at one merchant’s house, and sometimes at that of another.  In short, I amused myself in conversing with them, and seeing what passed in the bazaar.

One Monday, as I was sitting in a merchant’s shop, whose name was Buddir ad Deen, a lady of quality, as might easily be perceived by her air, her apparel, and by a well-dressed slave attending her, came into the shop, and sat down by me.  Her external appearance, joined to a natural grace that shone in all her actions, prepossessed me in her favour, and inspired me with a desire to be better acquainted with her.  I know not whether she observed that I took pleasure in gazing on her, and whether this attention on my part was not agreeable to her; but she let down the crepe that hung over the muslin which covered her face, and gave me the opportunity of seeing her large black eyes; which perfectly charmed me.  In fine, she inflamed my love to the height by the agreeable sound of her voice, her graceful carriage in saluting the merchant, and asking him how he did since she had seen him last.

After conversing with him some time upon indifferent subjects, she gave him to understand that she wanted a particular kind of stuff with a gold ground; that she came to his shop, as affording the best choice of any in all the bazaar; and that if he had any such as she asked for, he would oblige her in showing them.  Buddir ad Deen produced several pieces, one of which she pitched upon, and he asked for it eleven hundred dirhems of silver.  “I will,” said she, “give you your price for it, but I have not money enough about me; so I hope you will give me credit till to-morrow, and in the mean time allow me to carry home the stuff.  I shall not fail,” added she, “to send you tomorrow the eleven hundred dirhems.”  “Madam,” said Buddir ad Deen, “I would give you credit with all my heart if the stuff were mine; but it belongs to the young man you see here, and this is the day on which we settle our accounts.”  “Why,” said the lady in surprise, “do you use me so?  Am not I a customer to your shop And when I have bought of you, and carried home the things without paying ready money for them, did I in any instance fail to send you your money next morning?” “Madam,” said the merchant, “all this is true, but this very day I have occasion for the money.”  “There,” said she, throwing the stuff to him, “take your stuff, I care not for you nor any of the merchants.  You are all alike; you respect no one.”  As she spoke, she rose up in anger, and walked out.

When I saw that the lady walked away, I felt interested on her behalf, and called her back, saying, “Madam, do me the favour to return, perhaps I can find a way to satisfy you both.”  She returned, saying, it was on my account that she complied.  “Buddir ad Deen,” said I to the merchant, “what is the price you must have for this stuff that belongs to me?” “I must have,” replied he, “eleven hundred dirhems, I cannot take less.”  “Give it to the lady then,” said I, “let her take it home with her; I allow a hundred dirhems profit to yourself, and shall now write you a note, empowering you to deduct that sum upon the produce of the other goods you have of mine.”  In fine, I wrote, signed, and gave him the note, and then delivered the stuff to the lady.  “Madam,” said I, “you may take the stuff with you, and as for the money, you may either send it to-morrow or the next day; or, if you will, accept it as a present from me.”  “Pardon me,” returned she, “I mean no such thing.  You treat me with so much politeness, that I should be unworthy to appear in the world again, were I to omit making you my best acknowledgments.  May God reward you, by an increase of your fortune; may you live many years after I am dead; may the gate of paradise be open to you when you remove to the other world, and may all the city proclaim your generosity.”

These words inspired me with some assurance.  “Madam,” I replied, “I desire no other reward for the service I have done you than the happiness of seeing your face; which will repay me with interest.”  I had no sooner spoken than she turned towards me, took off her veil, and discovered to me a wonderful beauty.  I became speechless with admiration.  I could have gazed upon her for ever; but fearing any one should observe her, she quickly covered her face, and letting down the crepe, took up the piece of stuff, and went away, leaving me in a very different state of mind from that in which I had entered the shop.  I continued for some time in great confusion and perplexity.  Before I took leave of the merchant, I asked him, if he knew the lady; “Yes,” said he, “she is the daughter of an emir.”

I went back to the khan of Mesrour, and sat down to supper, but could not eat, neither could I shut my eyes all the night, which seemed the longest in my life.  As soon as it was day I arose, in hopes of once more beholding the object that disturbed my repose:  and to engage her affection, I dressed myself much richer than I had done the day before.

I had but just reached Buddir ad Deen’s shop, when I saw the lady coming in more magnificent apparel than before, and attended by her slave.  When she entered, she did not regard the merchant, but addressing herself to me, said, “Sir, you see I am punctual to my word.  I am come for the express purpose of paying the sum you were so kind as to pass your word for yesterday, though you had no knowledge of me.  Such uncommon generosity I shall never forget.”

“Madam,” said I, “you had no occasion to be in such haste; I was well satisfied as to my money, and am sorry you should put yourself to so much trouble.”  “I had been very unjust,” answered she, “if I had abused your generosity.”  With these words she put the money into my hand, and sat down by me.

Having this opportunity of conversing with her, I determined to improve it, and mentioned to her the love I had for her; but she rose and left me very abruptly, as if she had been angry with the declaration I had made.  I followed her with my eyes as long as she continued in sight; then taking leave of the merchant walked out of the bazaar, without knowing where I went.  I was musing on this adventure, when I felt somebody pulling me behind, and turning to see who it was, I was agreeably surprised to perceive it was the lady’s slave.  “My mistress,” said she, “I mean the young lady you spoke to in the merchant’s shop, wants to speak with you, if you please to give yourself the trouble to follow me.”  Accordingly I followed her, and found her mistress sitting waiting for me in a banker’s shop.

She made me sit down by her, and spoke to this purpose.  “Do not be surprised, that I left you so abruptly.  I thought it not proper, before that merchant, to give a favourable answer to the discovery you made of your affection for me.  But to speak the truth, I was so far from being offended at it, that it gave me pleasure; and I account myself infinitely happy in having a man of your merit for my lover.  I do not know what impression the first sight of me may have made on you, but I assure you, I had no sooner beheld you than I found my heart moved with the tenderest emotions of love.  Since yesterday I have done nothing but think of what you said to me; and my eagerness to seek you this morning may convince you of my regard.”  “Madam,” I replied, transported with love and joy, “nothing can be more agreeable to me than this declaration.  No passion can exceed that with which I love you.  My eyes were dazzled with so many charms, that my heart yielded without resistance.”  “Let us not trifle away the time in needless discourse,” said she, interrupting me; “make no doubt of your sincerity, and you shall quickly be convinced of mine.  Will you do me the honour to come to my residence?  Or if you will I will go to yours.”  “Madam,” I returned, “I am a stranger lodged in a khan, which is not the proper place for the reception of a lady of your quality.  It is more proper, madam, that I should visit you at your house; have the goodness to tell me where it is.”  The lady consented; “Come,” said she, “on Friday, which is the day after to-morrow, after noon-prayers, and ask for the house of Abou Schama, surnamed Bercour, late master of the emirs; there you will find me.”  This said, we parted; and I passed the next day in great impatience.

On Friday I put on my richest apparel, and took fifty pieces of gold in my purse.  I mounted an ass I had bespoken the day before, and set out, accompanied by the man who let me the ass.  I directed the owner of the ass to inquire for the house I wanted; he found it, and conducted me thither.  I paid him liberally, directing him to observe narrowly where he left me, and not to fail to return next morning with the ass, to carry me again to the khan of Mesrour.

I knocked at the door, and presently two little female slaves, white as snow, and neatly dressed came and opened it.  “Be pleased to come in, Sir,” said they, “our mistress expects you impatiently; these two days she has talked of nothing but you.”  I entered the court, and saw a pavilion raised seven steps, and surrounded with iron rails that parted it from a very pleasant garden.  Besides the trees which only embellished the place, and formed an agreeable shade, there was an infinite number of others loaded with all sorts of fruit.  I was charmed with the warbling of a great number of birds, that joined their notes to the murmurings of a fountain, in the middle of a parterre enamelled with flowers.  This fountain formed a very agreeable object; four large gilded dragons at the angles of the basin, which was of a square form, spouted out water clearer than rock-crystal.  This delicious place gave me a charming idea of the conquest I had made.  The two little slaves conducted me into a saloon magnificently furnished; and while one of them went to acquaint her mistress with my arrival, the other tarried with me, and pointed out to me the beauties of the hall.

I did not wait long in the hall, ere the lady I loved appeared, adorned with pearls and diamonds; but the splendour of her eyes far outshone that of her jewels.  Her shape, which was now not disguised by the habit she wore in the city, appeared the most slender and delicate.  I need not mention with what joy we met once more; it far exceeded all expression.  When the first compliments were over, we sat down upon a sofa, and there conversed together with the highest satisfaction.  We had the most delicious refreshments served up to us; and after eating, continued our conversation till night.  We then had excellent wine brought up, and fruit adapted to promote drinking, and timed our cups to the sound of musical instruments, joined to the voices of the slaves.  The lady of the house sung herself, and by her songs raised my passion to the height.  In short, I passed the night in full enjoyment.

Next morning I slipped under the bolster of the bed the purse with the fifty pieces of gold I had brought with me, and took leave of the lady, who asked me when I would see her again.  “Madam,” said I, “I give you my promise to return this night.”  She seemed to be transported with my answer, and conducting me to the door, conjured me at parting to be mindful of my promise.

The same man who had carried me thither waited for me with his ass, which I mounted, and went directly to the khan; ordering the man to come to me again in the afternoon at a certain hour, to secure which, I deferred paying him till that time came.

As soon as I arrived at my lodging, my first care was to order my people to buy a lamb, and several sorts of cakes, which I sent by a porter as a present to the lady.  When that was done I attended to my business till the owner of the ass arrived.  I then went along with him to the lady’s house, and was received by her with as much joy as before, and entertained with equal magnificence.

Next morning I took leave, left her another purse with fifty pieces of gold, and returned to my khan.

I continued to visit the lady every day, and to leave her every time a purse with fifty pieces of gold, till the merchants whom I employed to sell my goods, and whom I visited regularly twice a week, had paid me the whole amount of my goods and, in short, I came at last to be moneyless, and hopeless of having any more.

In this forlorn condition I walked out of my lodging, not knowing what course to take, and by chance went towards the castle, where there was a great crowd to witness a spectacle given by the sultan of Egypt.  As soon as I came up, I wedged in among the crowd, and by chance happened to stand by a horseman well mounted and handsomely clothed, who had upon the pommel of his saddle a bag, half open, with a string of green silk hanging out of it.  I clapped my hand to the bag, concluding the silk-twist might be the string of a purse within:  in the mean time a porter, with a load of wood upon his back, passed by on the other side of the horse so near, that the rider was forced to turn his head towards him, to avoid being hurt, or having his clothes torn by the wood.  In that moment the devil tempted me; I took the string in one hand, and with the other pulled out the purse so dexterously, that nobody perceived me.  The purse was heavy, and I did not doubt but it contained gold or silver.

As soon as the porter had passed, the horseman, who probably had some suspicion of what I had done while his head was turned, presently put his hand to his bag, and finding his purse was gone, gave me such a blow, that he knocked me down.  This violence shocked all who saw it.  Some took hold of the horse’s bridle to stop the gentleman, and asked him what reason he had to strike me, or how he came to treat a Mussulmaun so rudely.  “Do not you trouble yourselves,” said he briskly, “I had reason for what I did; this fellow is a thief.”  At these words I started up, and from my appearance every one took my part, and cried out he was a liar, for that it was incredible a young man such as I was should be guilty of so base an action:  but while they were holding his horse by the bridle to favour my escape, unfortunately passed by the judge, who seeing such a crowd about the gentleman on horseback, came up and asked what the matter was.  Every body present reflected on the gentleman for treating me so unjustly upon the presence of robbery.

The judge did not give ear to all that was said; but asked the cavalier if he suspected any body else beside me?  The cavalier told him he did not, and gave his reasons why he believed his suspicions not to be groundless.  Upon this the judge ordered his followers to seize me, which they presently did; and finding the purse upon me, exposed it to the view of all the people.  The disgrace was so great, I could not bear it, and I swooned away.  In the mean time the judge called for the purse.

When the judge had got the purse in his hand, he asked the horseman if it was his, and how much money it contained.  The cavalier knew it to be his own, and assured the judge he had put twenty sequins into it.  Upon which the judge called me before him; “Come, young man,” said he, “confess the truth.  Was it you that took the gentleman’s purse from him?  Do not wait for the torture to extort confession.”  Then with downcast eyes, thinking that if I denied the fact, they, having found the purse upon me, would convict me of a lie, to avoid a double punishment I looked up and confessed my guilt.  I had no sooner made the confession, than the judge called people to witness it, and ordered my hand to be cutoff.  This sentence was immediately put in execution, to the great regret of all the spectators; nay, I observed, by the cavalier’s countenance, that he was moved with pity as much as the rest.  The judge would likewise have ordered my foot to be cut off, but I begged the cavalier to intercede for my pardon; which he did, and obtained it.

When the judge was gone, the cavalier came up to me, and holding out the purse, said, “I see plainly that necessity drove you to an action so disgraceful and unworthy of such a young man as you appear.  Here, take that fatal purse; I freely give it you, and am heartily sorry for the misfortune you have undergone.”  Having thus spoken, he went away.  Being very weak by loss of blood, some of the good people of the neighbourhood had the kindness to carry me into a house and give me a glass of cordial; they likewise dressed my arm, and wrapped up the dismembered hand in a cloth, which I carried away with me fastened to my girdle.

Had I returned to the khan of Mesrour in this melancholy condition, I should not have found there such relief as I wanted; and to offer to go to the young lady was running a great hazard, it being likely she would not look upon me after being informed of my disgrace.  I resolved, however, to put her to the trial; and to tire out the crowd that followed me, I turned down several by-streets, and at last arrived at the lady’s house very weak, and so much fatigued, that I presently threw myself down upon a sofa, keeping my right arm under my garment, for I took great care to conceal my misfortune.

In the mean time the lady, hearing of my arrival, and that I was not well, came to me in haste; and seeing me pale and dejected, said, “My dear love, what is the matter with you?” “Madam,” I replied, dissembling, “I have a violent pain in my head.”  The lady seemed to be much concerned, and asked me to sit down, for I had arisen to receive her.  “Tell me,” said she, “how your illness was occasioned.  The last time I had the pleasure to see you, you were very well.  There must be something that you conceal from me, let me know what it is.”  I stood silent, and instead of an answer, tears trickled down my cheeks.  “I cannot conceive,” resumed she, “what it is that afflicts you.  Have I unthinkingly given you any occasion of uneasiness?  Or do you come on purpose to tell me you no longer love me?” “It is not that, madam,” said I, heaving a deep sigh; “your unjust suspicion adds to my misfortune.”

I could not think of discovering to her the true cause.  When night came, supper was brought, and she pressed me to eat; but considering I could only feed myself with my left hand, I begged to be excused upon the plea of having no appetite.  “It will return,” said she, “if you would but discover what you so obstinately conceal from me.  Your want of appetite, without doubt, is only owing to your irresolution.”

“Alas! madam,” returned I, “I find I must resolve at last.”  I had no sooner spoken, than she filled me a cup full of wine, and offering it to me, “Drink that,” said she, “it will give you courage.”  I reached out my left hand, and took the cup.

When I had taken the cup in my hand, I redoubled my tears and sighs.  “Why do you sigh and weep so bitterly?” asked the lady; “and why do you take the cup with your left hand, rather than your right?” “Ah! madam,” I replied, “I beseech you excuse me; I have a swelling in my right hand.”  “Let me see that swelling,” said she; “I will open it.”  I desired to be excused, alleging it was not ripe enough for such an operation; and drank off the cup, which was very large.  The fumes of the wine, joined to my weakness and weariness, set me asleep, and I slept very soundly till morning.

In the mean time the lady, curious to know what ailed my right hand, lifted up my garment that covered it; and saw to her great astonishment that it was cut off, and that I had brought it along with me wrapped up in a cloth.  She presently apprehended what was my reason for declining a discovery, notwithstanding all her pressing solicitation; and passed the night in the greatest uneasiness on account of my disgrace, which she concluded had been occasioned only by the love I bore to her.

When I awoke, I discerned by her countenance that she was extremely grieved.  However, that she might not increase my uneasiness she said not a word.  She called for jelly-broth of fowl, which she had ordered to be prepared, and made me eat and drink to recruit my strength.  After that, I offered to take leave of her; but she declared I should not go out of her doors.  “Though you tell me nothing of the matter,” said she, “I am persuaded I am the cause of the misfortune that has befallen you.  The grief that I feel on that account will soon end my days, but before I die, I must execute a design for your benefit.”  She had no sooner spoken, than she called for a judge and witnesses, and ordered a writing to be drawn up, putting me in possession of her whole property.  After this was done, and every body dismissed, she opened a large trunk where lay all the purses I had given her from the commencement of our amour.  “There they are all entire,” said she; “I have not touched one of them.  Here is the key; take it, for all is yours.”  After I had returned her thanks for her generosity and goodness; “What I have done for you,” said she, “is nothing; I shall not be satisfied unless I die, to show how much I love you.”  I conjured her, by all the powers of love, to relinquish such a fatal resolution.  But all my remonstrances were ineffectual:  she was so afflicted to see me have but one hand, that she sickened, and died after five or six weeks’ illness.

After mourning for her death as long as was decent, I took possession of all her property, a particular account of which she gave me before she died; and the corn you sold for me was part of it.

“What I have now told you,” said he, “will plead my excuse for eating with my left hand.  I am highly obliged to you for the trouble you have given yourself on my account.  I can never sufficiently recompense your fidelity.  Since I have still, thanks to God, a competent estate, notwithstanding I have spent a great deal, I beg you to accept of the sum now in your hand, as a present from me.  I have besides a proposal to make to you.  As I am obliged, on account of this fatal accident, to quit Cairo, I am resolved never to return to it again.  If you choose to accompany me, we will trade together as equal partners, and share the profits.”

I thanked the young man for the present he had made me, and I willingly embraced the proposal of travelling with him, assuring him, that his interest should always be as dear to me as my own.

We fixed a day for our departure, and accordingly entered upon our travels.  We passed through Syria and Mesopotamia, travelled over Persia, and after stopping at several cities, came at last, sir, to your capital.  Some time after our arrival here, the young man having formed a design of returning to Persia, and settling there, we balanced our accounts, and parted very good friends.  He went from hence, and I, sir, continue here in your majesty’s service.  This is the story I had to relate.  Does not your majesty find it more surprising than that of the hunch-back buffoon?

The sultan of Casgar fell into a passion against the Christian merchant.  “Thou art a presumptuous fellow,” said he, “to tell me a story so little worth hearing, and then to compare it to that of my jester.  Canst thou flatter thyself so far as to believe that the trifling adventures of a young debauchee are more interesting than those of my jester?  I will have you all four impaled, to revenge his death.”

Hearing this, the purveyor prostrated himself at the sultan’s feet.  “Sir,” said he, “I humbly beseech your majesty to suspend your wrath, and hear my story; and if it appears to be more extraordinary than that of your jester, to pardon us.”  The sultan having granted his request, the purveyor began thus.

The Story told by the Sultan of Casgar’s Purveyor.

Sir, a person of quality invited me yesterday to his daughter’s wedding.  I went to his house in the evening at the hour appointed, and found there a large company of men of the law, ministers of justice, and others of the first rank in the city.  After the ceremony was over, we partook of a splendid feast.  Among other dishes set upon the table, there was one seasoned with garlic, which was very delicious, and generally relished.  We observed, however, that one of the guests did not touch it, though it stood just before him.  We invited him to taste it, but he intreated us not to press him.  “I will take good care,” said he, “how I touch any dish that is seasoned with garlic; I have not yet forgotten what the tasting of such a dish once cost me.”  We requested him to inform us what the reason was of his aversion to garlic.  But before he had time to answer, the master of the house exclaimed, “Is it thus you honour my table?  This dish is excellent, do not expect to be excused from eating of it; you must do me that favour as well as the rest.”  “Sir,” said the gentleman, who was a Bagdad merchant, “I hope you do not think my refusal proceeds from any mistaken delicacy; if you insist on my compliance I will submit, but it must be on this condition, that after having eaten, I may, with your permission, wash my hands with alkali forty times, forty times more with ashes, and forty times again with soap.  I hope you will not feel displeased at this stipulation, as I have made an oath never to taste garlic but on these terms.”

As the master of the house, continued the purveyor of the sultan of Casgar, would not dispense with the merchant’s partaking of the dish seasoned with garlic, he ordered his servants to provide a basin of water, together with some alkali, the ashes, and soap, that the merchant might wash as often as he pleased.  After he had given these instructions, he addressed the merchant and said, “I hope you will now do as we do.”

The merchant, apparently displeased with the constraint put upon him, took up a bit, which he put to his mouth trembling, and ate with a reluctance that astonished us.  But what surprised us yet more was, that he had no thumb; which none of us had observed before, though he had eaten of other dishes.  “You have lost your thumb,” said the master of the house.  “This must have been occasioned by some extraordinary accident, a relation of which will be agreeable to the company.”  “Sir,” replied the merchant, “I have no thumb on either the right or the left hand.”  As he spoke he put out his left hand, and shewed us that what he said was true.  “But this is not all,” continued he:  “I have no great toe on either of my feet:  I was maimed in this manner by an unheard-of adventure, which I am willing to relate, if you will have the patience to hear me.  The account will excite at once your astonishment and your pity.  Only allow me first to wash my hands.”  With this he rose from the table, and after washing his hands a hundred and twenty times, reseated himself, and proceeded with his narrative as follows.

In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, my father lived at Bagdad, the place of my nativity, and was reputed one of the richest merchants in the city.  But being a man addicted to his pleasures, and neglecting his private affairs, instead of leaving me an ample fortune, he died in such embarrassed circumstances, that I was reduced to the necessity of using all the economy possible to discharge the debts he had contracted.  I at last, however, paid them all; and by care and good management my little fortune began to wear a smiling aspect.

One morning, as I opened my shop, a lady mounted upon a mule, and attended by an eunuch and two slaves, stopped near my door, and with the assistance of the eunuch alighted.  “Madam,” said the eunuch, “I told you you would be too early; you see there is no one yet in the bazaar:  had you taken my advice, you might have saved yourself the trouble of waiting here.”  The lady looked and perceiving no shop open but mine, asked permission to sit in it till the other merchants arrived.  With this request I of course readily complied.

The lady took a seat in my shop, and observing there was no one in the bazaar but the eunuch and myself, uncovered her face to take the air.  I had never beheld any thing so beautiful.  I became instantly enamoured, and kept my eyes fixed upon her.  I flattered myself that my attention was not unpleasant to her; for she allowed me time to view her deliberately, and only concealed her face so far as she thought necessary to avoid being observed.

After she had again lowered her veil, she told me she wanted several sorts of the richest and finest stuffs, and asked me if I had them.  “Alas! madam,” I replied, “I am but a young man just beginning the world; I have not capital sufficient for such extensive traffic.  I am much mortified not to be able to accommodate you with the articles you want.  But to save you the trouble of going from shop to shop, when the merchants arrive, I will, if you please, go and get those articles from them, and ascertain the lowest prices.”  She assented to this proposal, and entered into conversation with me, which I prolonged, making her believe the merchants that could furnish what she wanted were not yet come.

I was not less charmed with her wit than I had been before with the beauty of her face; but was obliged to forego the pleasure of her conversation.  I ran for the stuffs she wanted, and after she had fixed upon what she liked, we agreed for five thousand dirhems of coined silver; I wrapped up the stuffs in a small bundle, and gave it to the eunuch, who put it under his arm.  She then rose and took leave.  I followed her with my eyes till she had reached the bazaar gate, and even after she had remounted her mule.

The lady had no sooner disappeared, than I perceived that love had led me to a serious oversight.  It had so engrossed my thoughts, that I did not reflect that she went away without paying, and that I had not informed myself who she was, or where she resided.  I soon felt sensible, however, that I was accountable for a large sum to the merchants, who, perhaps, would not have patience to wait for their money:  I went to them, and made the best excuse I could, pretending that I knew the lady; and then returned home, equally affected with love, and with the burden of such a heavy debt.

I had desired my creditors to wait eight days for their money:  when this period had elapsed, they did not fail to dun me.  I then intreated them to give me eight days more, to which they consented; but the next day I saw the lady enter the bazaar, mounted on her mule, with the same attendants as before, and exactly the same hour of the day.

She came straight to my shop.  “I have made you wait some time,” said she, “but here is your money at last; carry it to the banker, and see that it is all good and right.”  The eunuch who carried the money went along with me to the banker, and we found it quite right.  I returned, and had the happiness of conversing with the lady till all the shops of the bazaar were open.  Though we talked but of ordinary things, she gave them such a turn, that they appeared new and uncommon; and convinced me that I was not mistaken in admiring her wit at our first interview.

As soon as the merchants had arrived and opened their shops, I carried to the respective owners the money due for their stuffs, and was readily intrusted with more, which the lady had desired to see.  She chose some from these to the value of one thousand pieces of gold, and carried them away as before without paying; nay, without speaking a word, or informing me who she was.  What distressed me was the consideration that while at this rate she risked nothing, she left me without any security against being made answerable for the goods in case she did not return.  “She has paid me,” thought I, “a considerable sum; but she leaves me responsible for a greater, Surely she cannot be a cheat.  The merchants do not know her, they will all come upon me.”  In short, my love was not so powerful as to stifle the uneasiness I felt, when I reflected upon the circumstances in which I was placed.  A whole month passed before I heard any thing of the lady again; and during that time my alarm increased.  The merchants were impatient for their money, and to satisfy them, I was going to sell off all I had, when one morning the lady returned with the same equipage as before.

“Take your weights,” said she, “and weigh the gold I have brought you.”  These words dispelled my fear, and inflamed my love.  Before we counted the money, she asked me several questions, and particularly if I was married.  I answered I never had been.  Then reaching out the gold to the eunuch, “Let us have your interposition,” said she, “to accommodate our matters.”  Upon which the eunuch fell a laughing, and calling me aside, made me weigh the gold.  While I was thus occupied, the eunuch whispered in my ear, “I know by your eyes you love this lady, and I am surprised that you have not the courage to disclose your passion.  She loves you more ardently than you do her.  Do not imagine that she has any real occasion for your stuffs.  She only makes this her presence to come here, because you have inspired her with a violent passion.  It was for this reason she asked you if you were married.  It will be your own fault, if you do not marry her.”  “It is true,” I replied, “I have loved her since I first beheld her; but I durst not aspire to the happiness of thinking my attachment could meet her approbation.  I am entirely hers, and shall not fail to retain a grateful sense of your good offices in this affair.”

I finished weighing the gold, and while I was putting it into the bag, the eunuch turned to the lady, and told her I was satisfied; that being the word they had agreed upon between themselves.  Presently after, the lady rose and took her leave; telling me she would send her eunuch to me, and that I had only to obey the directions he might give me in her name.

I carried each of the merchants their money, and waited some days with impatience for the eunuch.  At last he came.

I received the eunuch very kindly, and inquired after his mistress’s health.  “You are,” said he, “the happiest lover in the world; she is impatient to see you; and were she mistress of her own conduct, would not fail to come to you herself, and willingly pass in your society all the days of her life.”  “Her noble mien and graceful carriage,” I replied, “convinced me, that she was a lady beyond the common rank.”  “You have not erred in your judgment on that head,” said the eunuch; “she is the favourite of Zobeide the caliph’s wife, who is the more affectionately attached to her from having brought her up from her infancy, and intrusts her with all her affairs.  Having a wish to marry, she has declared to her mistress that she has fixed her affections upon you, and has desired her consent.  Zobeide told her, she would not withhold her consent; but that she would see you first, in order to judge if she had made a good choice; in which case she meant herself to defray the expenses of the wedding.  Thus you see your felicity is certain; since you have pleased the favourite, you will be equally agreeable to the mistress, who seeks only to oblige her, and would by no means thwart her inclination.  All you have to do is to come to the palace.  I am sent hither to invite you.”  “My resolution is already formed,” said I, “and I am ready to follow you whithersoever you please.”  “Very well,” said the eunuch; “but you know men are not allowed to enter the ladies’ apartments in the palace, and you must be introduced with great secrecy.  The favourite lady has contrived the matter well.  On your side you must act your part discreetly; for if you do not, your life is at stake.”

I gave him repeated assurances punctually to perform whatever he might require.  “Then,” said he, “in the evening, you must be at the mosque built by the caliph’s lady on the bank of the Tigris, and wait there till somebody comes to conduct you.”  To this I agreed; and after passing the day in great impatience, went in the evening to the prayer that is said an hour and a half after sun-set in the mosque, and remained there after all the people had departed.

Soon after I saw a boat making up to the mosque, the rowers of which were all eunuchs, who came on shore, put several large trunks into the mosque, and then retired.  One of them stayed behind, whom I perceived to be the eunuch that had accompanied the lady, and had been with me that morning.  I saw the lady also enter the mosque; and approaching her, told her I was ready to obey her orders.  “We have no time to lose,” said she; and opening one of the trunks, desired me to get into it, that being necessary both for her safety and mine.  “Fear nothing,” added she, “leave the management of all to me.”  I considered with myself that I had gone too far to recede, and obeyed her orders; when she immediately locked the trunk.  This done, the eunuch her confidant called the other eunuchs who had brought in the trunks, and ordered them to carry them on board again.  The lady and the eunuch re-embarked, and the boatmen rowed to Zobeide’s apartment.

In the meantime I reflected very seriously upon the danger to which I had exposed myself, and made vows and prayers, though it was then too late.

The boat stopped at the palace-gate, and the trunks were carried into the apartment of the officer of the eunuchs, who keeps the key of the ladies’ apartments, and suffers nothing to enter without a narrow inspection.  The officer was then in bed, and it was necessary to call him up.

The officer of the eunuchs was displeased at having his rest disturbed, and severely chid the favourite lady for coming home so late.  “You shall not come off so easily as you think,” said he:  “not one of these trunks shall pass till I have opened it.”  At the same time he commanded the eunuchs to bring them before him, and open them one by one.  The first they took was that wherein I lay, which put me into inexpressible fear.

The favourite lady, who had the key, protested it should not be opened.  “You know very well,” said she, “I bring nothing hither but what is for the use of Zobeide, your mistress and mine.  This trunk is filled with rich goods, which I purchased from some merchants lately arrived, besides a number of bottles of Zemzem water sent from Mecca; and if any of these should happen to break, the goods will be spoiled, and you must answer for them; depend upon it, Zobeide will resent your insolence.”  She insisted upon this in such peremptory terms, that the officer did not dare to open any of the trunks.  “Let them go,” said he angrily; “you may take them away.”  Upon this the door of the women’s apartment was opened, and all the trunks were carried in.

This had been scarcely accomplished, when I heard the people cry, “Here is the caliph!  Here comes the caliph!” This put me in such alarm, that I wonder I did not die upon the spot; for as they announced, it proved to be the caliph.  “What hast thou got in these trunks?” said he to the favourite.  “Some stuffs,” she replied, “lately arrived, which the empress wishes to see.”  “Open them,” cried he, “and let me see them.”  She excused herself, alleging the stuffs were only proper for ladies, and that by opening them, his lady would be deprived of the pleasure of seeing them first.  “I say open them,” resumed the caliph; “I will see them.”  She still represented that her mistress would be angry with her, if she complied:  “No, no,” said he, “I will engage she shall not say a word to you.  Come, come, open them, and do not keep me waiting.”

It was necessary to obey, which gave me such alarm, that I tremble every time I recollect my situation.  The caliph sat down; and the favourite ordered all the trunks to be brought before him one after another.  She opened some of them; and to lengthen out the time, displayed the beauties of each particular stuff, thinking in this manner to tire out his patience; but her stratagem did not succeed.  Being as unwilling as myself to have the trunk where I lay opened, she left that to the last.  When all the rest were viewed, “Come,” said the caliph, “let us see what is in that.”  I am at a loss to tell you whether I was dead or alive that moment; for I little thought of escaping such imminent danger.

When Zobeide’s favourite saw that the caliph persisted in having this trunk opened:  “As for this,” said she, “your majesty will please to dispense with the opening of it; there are some things in it which I cannot shew you without your lady be present.”  “Well, well,” said the caliph, “since that is the case, I am satisfied; order the trunks to be carried away.”  The words were no sooner spoken than they were moved into her chamber, where I began to revive again.

As soon as the eunuchs, who had brought them, were gone, she opened the trunk in which I was confined.  “Come out,” said she; “go up these stairs that lead to an upper room, and wait there till I come to you.”  The door, which led to the stairs, she locked after me; and that was no sooner done, than the caliph came and sat down on the very trunk which had been my prison.  The occasion of this visit did not respect me.  He wished to question the lady about what she had seen or heard in the city.  So they conversed together some time; he then left her, and retired to his apartment.

When she found the coast clear, she came to the chamber where I lay concealed, and made many apologies for the alarms she had given me.  “My uneasiness,” said she, “was no less than yours; you cannot well doubt of that, since I have run the same risk out of love to you.  Perhaps another person in my situation would not, upon so delicate an occasion, have had the presence of mind to manage so difficult a business with so much dexterity; nothing less than the love I had for you could have inspired me with courage to do what I have.  But come, take heart, the danger is now over.”  After much tender conversation, she told me it was time to go to rest, and that she would not fail to introduce me to Zobeide her mistress, some hour on the morrow, “which will be very easy,” added she; “for the caliph never sees her but at night.”  Encouraged by these words, I slept very well, or if my sleep was interrupted, it was by agreeable disquietudes, caused by the hopes of possessing a lady blest with so much wit and beauty.

The next day, before I was introduced to Zobeide, her favourite instructed me how to conduct myself, mentioning what questions she would probably put to me, and dictating the answers I was to return.  She then carried me into a very magnificent and richly furnished hall.  I had no sooner entered, than twenty female slaves, advanced in age, dressed in rich and uniform habits, came out of Zobeide’s apartment, and placed themselves before the throne in two equal rows; they were followed by twenty other younger ladies, clothed after the same fashion, only their habits appeared somewhat gayer.  In the middle of these appeared Zobeide with a majestic air, and so laden with jewels, that she could scarcely walk.  She ascended the throne, and the favourite lady, who had accompanied her, stood just by her right hand; the other ladies, who were slaves, being placed at some distance on each side of the throne.

As soon as the caliph’s lady was seated, the slaves who came in first made a sign for me to approach.  I advanced between the two rows they had formed, and prostrated myself upon the carpet that was under the princess’s feet.  She ordered me to rise, did me the honour to ask my name, my family, and the state of my fortune; to all which I gave her satisfactory answers, as I perceived, not only by her countenance, but by her words.  “I am glad,” said she, “that my daughter,” (so she used to call the favourite lady,) “for I look upon her as such after the care I have take of her education, has made this choice; I approve of it, and consent to your marriage.  I will myself give orders for having it solemnized; but I wish my daughter to remain with me ten days before the solemnity; in that time I will speak to the caliph, and obtain his consent:  mean while do you remain here; you shall be taken care of.”

Pursuant to the commands of the caliph’s lady, I remained ten days in the women’s apartments, and during that time was deprived of the pleasure of seeing the favourite lady:  but was so well used by her orders, that I had no reason to be dissatisfied.

Zobeide told the caliph her resolution of marrying the favourite lady; and the caliph leaving to her the liberty to act in the business as she thought proper, granted the favourite a considerable sum by way of settlement.  When the ten days were expired, Zobeide ordered the contract of marriage to be drawn up and brought to her, and the necessary preparations being made for the solemnity, the musicians and the dancers, both male and female, were called in, and there were great rejoicings in the palace for nine days.  The tenth day being appointed for the last ceremony of the marriage, the favourite lady was conducted to a bath, and I to another.  At night I had all manner of dishes served up to me, and among others, one seasoned with garlic, such as you have now forced me to eat.  This I liked so well, that I scarcely touched any of the other dishes.  But to my misfortune, when I rose from table, instead of washing my hands well, I only wiped them; a piece of negligence of which I had never before been guilty.

As it was then night, the whole apartment of the ladies was lighted up so as to equal the brightness of day.  Nothing was to be heard through the palace but musical instruments, dances, and acclamations of joy.  My bride and I were introduced into a great hall, where we were placed upon two thrones.  The women who attended her made her robe herself several times, according to the usual custom on wedding days; and they shewed her to me every time she changed her habit.

All these ceremonies being over, we were conducted to the nuptial chamber:  as soon as the company retired, I approached my wife; but instead of returning my transports, she pushed me away, and cried out, upon which all the ladies of the apartment came running in to inquire the cause:  and for my own part, I was so thunderstruck, that I stood like a statue, without the power of even asking what she meant.  “Dear sister,” said they to her, “what has happened since we left you?  Let us know, that we may try to relieve you.”  “Take,” said she, “take that vile fellow out of my sight.”  “Why, madam?” I asked, “wherein have I deserved your displeasure?” “You are a villain,” said she in a furious passion, “to eat garlic, and not wash your hands!  Do you think I would suffer such a polluted wretch to poison me?  Down with him, down with him on the ground,” continued she, addressing herself to the ladies, “and bring me a bastinado.”  They immediately did as they were desired; and while some held my hands, and others my feet, my wife, who was presently furnished with a weapon, laid on me as long as she could stand.  She then said to the ladies, “Take him, send him to the judge, and let the hand be cut off with which he fed upon the garlic dish.”

“Alas!” cried I, “must I be beaten unmercifully, and, to complete my affliction, have my hand cut off, for partaking of a dish seasoned with garlic, and forgetting to wash my hands?  What proportion is there between the punishment and the crime?  Curse on the dish, on the cook who dressed it, and on him who served it up.”

All the ladies who had seen me receive the thousand strokes, took pity on me, when they heard the cutting off of my hand mentioned.  “Dear madam, dear sister,” said they to the favourite lady, “you carry your resentment too far.  We own he is a man quite ignorant of the world, of your quality, and the respect that is due to you:  but we beseech you to overlook and pardon his fault.”  “I have not received adequate satisfaction,” said she; “I will teach him to know the world; I will make him bear sensible marks of his impertinence, and be cautious hereafter how he tastes a dish seasoned with garlic without washing his hands.”  They renewed their solicitations, fell down at her feet, and kissing her fair hands, said, “Good madam, moderate your anger, and grant us the favour we supplicate.”  She made no reply, but got up, and after uttering a thousand reproaches against me, walked out of the chamber:  all the ladies followed her, leaving me in inconceivable affliction.

I continued thus ten days, without seeing any body but an old female slave that brought me victuals.  I asked her what was become of the favourite lady.  “She is sick,” said the old woman; “she is sick of the poisoned smell with which you infected her.  Why did you not take care to wash your hands after eating of that cursed dish?” “Is it possible,” thought I, “that these ladies can be so nice, and so vindictive for such a trifling fault!” I loved my wife notwithstanding all her cruelty, and could not help pitying her.

One day the old woman told me my spouse was recovered, and gone to bathe, and would come to see me the next day.  “So,” said she, “I would have you call up your patience, and endeavour to accommodate yourself to her humour.  For she is in other respects a woman of good sense and discretion, and beloved by all the ladies about the court of our respected mistress Zobeide.”

My wife accordingly came on the following evening, and accosted me thus:  “You perceive that I must possess much tenderness to you, after the affront you have offered me:  but still I cannot be reconciled till I have punished you according to your demerit, in not washing your hands after eating of the garlic dish.”  She then called the ladies, who, by her order, threw me upon the ground; and after binding me fast, she had the barbarity to cut off my thumbs and great toes herself, with a razor.  One of the ladies applied a certain root to staunch the blood; but by bleeding and by the pain, I swooned away.

When I came to myself, they gave me wine to drink, to recruit my strength.  “Ah! madam,” said I to my wife, “if ever I again eat of a dish with garlic in it, I solemnly swear to wash my hands a hundred and twenty times with alkali, with ashes, and with soap.”  “Well,” replied she, “upon that condition I am willing to forget what is past, and live with you as my husband.”

“This,” continued the Bagdad merchant, addressing himself to the company, “is the reason why I refused to eat of the dish seasoned with what is now on the table.”

The ladies applied to my wounds not only the root I mentioned, but likewise some balsam of Mecca, which they were well assured was not adulterated, because they had it out of the caliph’s own dispensatory.  By virtue of that admirable balsam, I was in a few days perfectly cured, and my wife and I lived together as agreeably as if I had never eaten of the garlic dish.  But having been all my lifetime used to enjoy my liberty, I grew weary of being confined to the caliph’s palace; yet I said nothing to my wife on the subject, for fear of displeasing her.  However, she suspected my feelings; and eagerly wished for liberty herself, for it was gratitude alone that made her continue with Zobeide.  She represented to her mistress in such lively terms the constraint I was under, in not living in the city with people of my own rank, as I had always done, that the good princess chose rather to deprive herself of the pleasure of having her favourite about her than not to grant what we both equally desired.

A month after our marriage, my wife came into my room with several eunuchs, each carrying a bag of silver.  When the eunuchs were gone; “You never told me,” said she, “that you were uneasy in being confined to court; but I perceived it, and have happily found means to make you contented.  My mistress Zobeide gives us permission to quit the palace; and here are fifty thousand sequins, of which she has made us a present, in order to enable us to live comfortably in the city.  Take ten thousand of them, and go and buy us a house.”

I quickly found a house for the money, and after furnishing it richly, we went to reside in it, kept a great many slaves of both sexes, and made a good figure.  We thus began to live in a very agreeable manner:  but my felicity was of short continuance; for at the end of a year my wife fell sick and died.

I might have married again, and lived honourably at Bagdad; but curiosity to see the world put me upon another plan.  I sold my house, and after purchasing several kinds of merchandize, went with a caravan to Persia; from Persia I travelled to Samarcand, and from thence to this city.

“This,” said the purveyor to the sultan of Casgar, “is the story that the Bagdad merchant related in a company where I was yesterday.”  “This story,” said the sultan, “has something in it extraordinary; but it does not come near that of the little hunch-back.”  The Jewish physician prostrated himself before the sultan’s throne, and addressed the prince in the following manner:  “Sir, if you will be so good as to hear me, I flatter myself you will be pleased with a story I have to tell you.”  “Well spoken,” said the sultan; “but if it be not more surprising than that of little hunch-back, you must not expect to live.”

The Jewish physician, finding the sultan of Casgar disposed to hear him, gave the following relation.

The Story told by the Jewish Physician.

When I was studying physic at Damascus, and was just beginning to practise that noble profession with some reputation, a slave called me to see a patient in the governor of the city’s family.  Accordingly I went, and was conducted into a room, where I found a very handsome young man, much dejected by his disorder.  I saluted him, and sat down by him; but he made no return to my compliments, only a sign with his eyes that he heard me, and thanked me.  “Pray, sir,” said I, “give me your hand, that I may feel your pulse.”  But instead of stretching out his right, he gave me his left hand, at which I was extremely surprised.  However, I felt his pulse, wrote him a prescription, and took leave.

I continued my visits for nine days, and every time I felt his pulse, he still gave me his left hand.  On the tenth day he seemed to be so far recovered, that I only deemed it necessary to prescribe bathing to him.  The governor of Damascus, who was by, in testimony of his satisfaction with my service, invested me with a very rich robe, saying, he had appointed me a physician of the city hospital, and physician in ordinary to his house, where I might eat at his table when I pleased.

The young man likewise shewed me many civilities, and asked me to accompany him to the bath.  Accordingly we went together, and when his attendants had undressed him, I perceived he wanted the right hand, and that it had not long been cut off, which had been the occasion of his disorder, though concealed from me; for while the people about him were applying proper remedies externally, they had called me to prevent the ill consequence of the fever which was on him.  I was much surprised and concerned on seeing his misfortune; which he observed by my countenance.  “Doctor,” cried he, “do not be astonished that my hand is cut off; some day or other I will tell you the cause; and in that relation you will hear very surprising adventures.”

After we had returned from the bath, we sat down to a collation; and he asked me if it would be any prejudice to his health if he went and took a walk out of town in the governor’s garden?  I made answer, that the air would be of service to him.  “Then,” said he, “if you will give me your company, I will recount to you my history.”  I replied I was at his command for all that day.  Upon which he presently called his servants, and we went to the governor’s garden.  Having taken two or three turns there, we seated ourselves on a carpet that his servants had spread under a tree, which gave a pleasant shade.  The young man then gave me his history in the following terms:

I was born at Moussol, of one of the most considerable families in the city.  My father was the eldest of ten brothers, who were all alive and married when my grandfather died.  All the brothers were childless, except my father; and he had no child but me.  He took particular care of my education; and made me learn every thing proper for my rank.

When I was grown up, and began to enter into the world, I happened one Friday to be at noon-prayers with my father and my uncles in the great mosque of Moussol.  After prayers were over, the rest of the company going away, my father and my uncles continued sitting upon the best carpet in the mosque; and I sat down by them.  They discoursed of several things, but the conversation fell insensibly, I know not how, upon the subject of travelling.  They extolled the beauties and peculiar rarities of some kingdoms, and of their principal cities.  But one of my uncles said, that according to the uniform report of an infinite number of voyagers, there was not in the world a pleasanter country than Egypt, on account of the Nile; and the description he gave infused into me such high admiration, that from that moment I had a desire to travel thither.  Whatever my other uncles said, by way of preference to Bagdad and the Tigris, in calling Bagdad the residence of the Mussulmaun religion, and the metropolis of all the cities of the earth, made no impression upon me.  My father joined in opinion with those of his brothers who had spoken in favour of Egypt; which filled me with joy.  “Say what you will,” said he, “the man that has not seen Egypt has not seen the greatest rarity in the world.  All the land there is golden; I mean, it is so fertile, that it enriches its inhabitants.  All the women of that country charm you by their beauty and their agreeable carriage.  If you speak of the Nile, where is there a more wonderful river?  What water was ever lighter or more delicious?  The very slime it carries along in its overflowing fattens the fields, which produce a thousand times more than other countries that are cultivated with the greatest labour.  Observe what a poet said of the Egyptians, when he was obliged to depart from Egypt:  ’Your Nile loads you with blessings every day; it is for you only that it runs from such a distance.  Alas! in removing from you, my tears will flow as abundantly as its waters; you are to continue in the enjoyment of its sweetnesses, while I am condemned to deprive myself of them against my will.’

“If you look,” added my father, “towards the island that is formed by the two greatest branches of the Nile, what variety of verdure!  What enamel of all sorts of flowers!  What a prodigious number of cities, villages, canals, and a thousand other agreeable objects!  If you turn your eyes on the other side, up towards Ethiopia, how many other subjects of admiration!  I cannot compare the verdure of so many plains, watered by the different canals of the island, better than to brilliant emeralds set in silver.  Is not Grand Cairo the largest, the most populous, and the richest city in the world?  What a number of magnificent edifices both public and private!  If you view the pyramids, you will be filled with astonishment at the sight of the masses of stone of an enormous thickness, which rear their heads to the skies!  You will be obliged to confess, that the Pharaohs, who employed such riches, and so many men in building them, must have surpassed in magnificence and invention all the monarchs who have appeared since, not only in Egypt, but in all the world, for having left monuments so worthy of their memory:  monuments so ancient, that the learned cannot agree upon the date of their erection; yet such as will last to the end of time.  I pass over in silence the maritime cities of the kingdom of Egypt, such as Damietta, Rosetta, and Alexandria, where nations come for various sorts of grain, cloth, and an infinite number of commodities calculated for accommodation and delight.  I speak of what I know; for I spent some years there in my youth, which I shall always reckon the most agreeable part of my life.”

My uncles could make no reply, and assented to all my father had said of the Nile, of Cairo, and of the whole kingdom of Egypt.  My imagination was so full of these subjects, I could not sleep that night.  Soon after, my uncles declared how much they were struck with my father’s account.  They made a proposal to him, that they should travel all together into Egypt.  To this he assented; and being rich merchants, they resolved to carry with them such commodities as were likely to suit the market.  When I found that they were making preparations for their departure, I went to my father, and begged of him, with tears in my eyes, that he would suffer me to make one of the party, and allow me some stock of goods to trade with on my own account.  “You are too young,” said he, “to travel into Egypt; the fatigue is too great for you; and, besides, I am sure you will come off a loser in your traffic.”  These words, however, did not suppress my eager desire to travel.  I made use of my uncles’ interest with my father, who at last granted me permission to go as far as Damascus, where they were to leave me, till they had travelled through Egypt.  “The city of Damascus,” said my father, “may likewise glory in its beauties, and my son must be content with leave to go so far.”  Though my curiosity to see Egypt was very pressing, I considered he was my father, and submitted to his will.

I set out from Moussol in company with him and my uncles.  We travelled through Mesopotamia, passed the Euphrates, and arrived at Aleppo, where we stayed some days.  From thence we went to Damascus, the first sight of which struck me with agreeable surprise We lodged all together in one khan; and I had the view of a city that was large, populous, full of handsome people, and well fortified.  We employed some days in walking up and down the delicious gardens that surrounded it; and we all agreed that Damascus was justly said to be seated in a paradise.  At last my uncles thought of pursuing their journey; but took care, before they went, to sell my goods so advantageously for me, that I gained by them five hundred per cent.  This sale brought me a sum so considerable, as to fill me with delight.

My father and my uncles left me in Damascus, and pursued their journey.  After their departure, I used great caution not to lay out my money idly.  But at the same time I took a stately house, built of marble, adorned with paintings of gold, silver foliage, and a garden with fine water-works.  I furnished it, not so richly indeed as the magnificence of the place deserved, but at least handsomely enough for a young man of my rank.  It formerly belonged to one of the principal lords of the city; but was then the property of a rich jewel-merchant, to whom I paid for it only two sherifs a month.  I had a number of domestics, and lived honourably; sometimes I gave entertainments to such people as I had made an acquaintance with, and sometimes was treated by them.  Thus did I spend my time at Damascus, waiting for my father’s return; no passion disturbed my repose, and my only employment was conversing with people of credit.

One day, as I sat taking the cool air at my gate, a very handsome, well-dressed lady came to me, and asked if I did not sell stuffs?  She had no sooner spoken the words, than she went into my house.

When I saw that the lady had entered the house, I rose, and having shut the gate, conducted into a hall, and prayed her to sit down.  “Madam,” said I, “I have had stuffs fit to be strewn to you, but at present, I am sorry to say, I have none.”  She removed the veil from her face, and discovered such beauty as affected me with emotions I had never felt before.  “I have no occasion for stuffs,” replied she, “I only come to see you, and, if you please, to pass the evening in your company; all I ask of you is a light collation.”

Transported with joy, I ordered the servants to bring us several sorts of fruit, and some bottles of wine.  These being speedily served, we ate, drank, and made merry till midnight.  In short, I had not before passed a night so agreeably as this.  Next morning I would have put ten sherifs into the lady’s hands, but she drew back instantly.  “I am not come to see you,” said she, “from interested motives; you therefore do me wrong.  So far from receiving money from you, I must insist on your taking some from me, or else I will see you no more.”  In speaking this, she put her hand into her purse, took out ten sherifs, and forced me to take them, saying, “You may expect me three days hence after sun-set.  She then took leave of me, and I felt that when she went she carried my heart along with her.”

She did not fail to return at the appointed hour three days after; and I received her with all the joy of a person who waited impatiently for her arrival.  The evening and the night we spent as before; and next day at parting she promised to return the third day after.  She did not, however, leave me without forcing me to take ten sherifs more.

She returned a third time; and at that interview, when we were both warm with wine, she spoke thus:  “My dear love, what do you think of me?  Am I not handsome and agreeable?” “Madam,” I replied, “I think this an unnecessary question:  the love which I shew you ought to persuade you that I admire you; I am charmed to see and to possess you.  You are my queen, my sultaness; in you lies all the felicity of my life.”  “Ah!” returned she, “I am sure you would speak otherwise, if you saw a certain lady of my acquaintance, who is younger and handsomer than I am.  She is of such a pleasant lively temper, that she would make the most melancholy people merry:  I must bring her hither; I spoke of you to her, and from the account I have given of you she is dying with desire to see you.  She intreated me to procure her that pleasure, but I did not dare to promise her without speaking to you beforehand.”  “Madam,” said I, “do what you please; but whatever you may say of your friend, I defy all her charms to tear my heart from you, to whom it is so inviolably attached, that nothing can disengage it.”  “Be not too positive,” returned she; “I now tell you, I am about to put your heart to a severe trial.”

We continued together all night, and next morning at parting, instead of ten sherifs she gave me fifteen, which I was forced to accept.  “Remember,” said she, “that in two days’ time you are to have a new guest; pray take care to give her a good reception:  we will come at the usual hour.”  I had my hall put in great order, and a handsome collation prepared against they came.

I waited for the two ladies with impatience and at last they arrived at the close of the day.  They both unveiled, and as I had been surprised with the beauty of the first, I had reason to be much more so when I saw her friend.  She had regular features, an elegant person, and such sparkling eyes, that I could hardly bear their splendour.  I thanked her for the honour she did me, and entreated her to excuse me if I did not give her the reception she deserved.  “No compliments,” replied she; “it should be my part to make them to you, for allowing my friend to bring me hither.  But since you are pleased to suffer it, let us lay aside all ceremony, and think only of amusing ourselves.”

I had given orders, as soon as the ladies arrived, to have the collation served up, and we soon sat down to our entertainment.  I placed myself opposite the stranger, who never ceased looking upon me with a smiling countenance.  I could not resist her conquering eyes, and she made herself mistress of my heart, without opposition.  But while she inspired me with a flame, she caught it herself; and so far from appearing to be under any constraint, she conversed in very free and lively language.

The other lady, who observed us, did nothing at first but laugh.  “I told you,” said she, addressing herself to me, “you would find my friend full of charms; and I perceive you have already violated the oath you made of being faithful to me.”  “Madam,” replied I, laughing as well as she, “you would have reason to complain, if I were wanting in civility to a lady whom you brought hither, and who is your intimate friend; both of you might then upbraid me for not performing duly the rites of hospitality.”

We continued to drink; but as the wine warmed us, the strange lady and I ogled one another with so little reserve, that her friend grew jealous, and quickly gave us a dismal proof of the inveteracy of her feelings.  She rose from the table and went out, saying, she would be with us presently again:  but in a few moments after, the lady who stayed with me changed countenance, fell into violent convulsions, and expired in my arms while I was calling for assistance to relieve her.  I went out immediately, and enquired for the other lady; when my people told me, she had opened the street door and was gone.  I then suspected what was but too true, that she had been the cause of her friend’s death.  She had the dexterity, and the malice, to put some very strong poison into the last glass, which she gave her with her own hand.

I was afflicted beyond measure with the accident.  “What shall I do?” I exclaimed in agony.  “What will become of me?” I considered there was no time to lose, and it being then moon-light, I ordered my servants to take up one of the large pieces of marble, with which the court of my house was paved, dig a hole, and there inter the corpse of the young lady.  After replacing the stone, I put on a travelling suit, took what money I had; and having locked up every thing, affixed my own seal on the door of my house.  This done I went to the jewel-merchant my landlord, paid him what I owed, with a year’s rent in advance and giving him the key, prayed him to keep it for me.  “A very urgent affair,” said I, “obliges me to be absent for some time; I am under the necessity of going to visit my uncles at Cairo.”  I took my leave of him, immediately mounted my horse, and departed with my attendants from Damascus.

I had a good journey, and arrived at Cairo without any accident.  There I met with my uncles, who were much surprised to see me.  To excuse myself, I pretended I was tired of waiting; and hearing nothing of them, was so uneasy, that I could not be satisfied without coming to Cairo.  They received me kindly, and promised that my father should not be displeased with me for leaving Damascus without his permission.  I lodged in the same khan with them, and saw all the curiosities of Cairo.

Having finished their traffic, they began to talk of returning to Moussol, and to make preparations for their departure; but I, having a wish to view in Egypt what I had not yet seen, left my uncles, and went to lodge in another quarter at a distance from their khan, and did not appear any more till they were gone.  They sought for me all over the city; but not finding me, supposed remorse for having come to Egypt without my father’s consent had occasioned me to return to Damascus, without saying any thing to them.  So they began their journey, expecting to find me at Damascus, and there to take me up.

After their departure I continued at Cairo three years, more completely to indulge my curiosity in seeing all the wonders of Egypt.  During that time I took care to remit money to the jewel-merchant, ordering him to keep my house for me; for I designed to return to Damascus, and reside there some years longer.  I had no adventure at Cairo worth relating; but doubtless you will be much surprised at that which befell me on my return to Damascus.

Arriving at this city, I went to the jewel-merchant’s, who received me joyfully, and would accompany me to my house, to shew me that no one had entered it whilst I was absent.  The seal was still entire upon the lock; and when I went in, I found every thing in the order in which I had left it.

In sweeping and cleaning out the hall where I had eaten with the ladies, one of my servants found a gold chain necklace, with ten very large and perfect pearls strung upon it at certain distances.  He brought it to me, when I knew it to be the same I had seen upon the lady’s neck who was poisoned; and concluded it had broken off and fallen.  I could not look upon it without shedding tears, when I called to mind the lovely creature I had seen die in such a shocking manner.  I wrapped it up, and put it in my bosom.

I rested some days to recover from the fatigues of my journey; after which, I began to visit my former acquaintance.  I abandoned myself to every species of pleasure, and gradually squandered away all my money.  Being thus reduced, instead of selling my furniture, I resolved to part with the necklace; but I had so little skill in pearls, that I took my measures very ill, as you shall hear.

I went to the bazaar, where I called a crier aside, and strewing him the necklace, told him I wished to sell it, and desired him to show it to the principal jewellers.  The crier was surprised to see such a valuable ornament.  “How beautiful,” exclaimed he, gazing upon it with admiration, “never did our merchants see any thing so rich; I am sure I shall oblige them highly in strewing it to them; and you need not doubt they will set a high price upon it, in emulation of each other.”  He carried me to a shop which proved to be my landlord’s:  “Stop here,” said the crier, “I will return presently and bring you an answer.”

While he was running about to shew the necklace, I sat with the jeweller, who was glad to see me, and we conversed on different subjects.  The crier returned, and calling me aside, instead of telling me the necklace was valued at two thousand sherifs, assured me nobody would give me more than fifty.  “The reason is,” added he, “the pearls are false; consider if you will part with it at that price.”  I took him at his word, wanting money.  “Go,” said I, “I take your word, and that of those who know better than myself; deliver it to them, and bring me the money immediately.”

The crier had been ordered to offer me fifty sherifs by one of the richest jewellers in town who had only made that offer to sound me, and try if I was well acquainted with the value of the pearls.  He had no sooner received my answer, than he carried the crier to the judge, and shewing him the necklace; “Sir,” said he, “here is a necklace which was stolen from me, and the thief, under the character of a merchant, has had the impudence to offer it to sale, and is at this minute in the bazaar.  He is willing to take fifty sherifs for a necklace that is worth two thousand which is a clear proof of his having stolen it.”

The Judge sent immediately to seize me, and when I came before him, he asked me if the necklace he had in his hand was not the same that I had exposed to sale in the bazaar.  I told him it was.  “Is it true,” demanded he, “that you are willing to sell it for fifty sherifs?” I answered I was.  “Well,” continued he, in a scoffing way “give him the bastinado; he will quickly confess notwithstanding his merchant’s disguise, that he is only an artful thief; let him be beaten till he owns his guilt.”  The pain of the torture made me tell a lie; I confessed, though it was not true that I had stolen the necklace; and the judge ordered my hand to be cut off according to the sentence of our law.

This made a great noise in the bazaar, and I was scarcely returned to my house when my landlord came.  “My son,” said he, “you seem to be a young man well educated, and of good sense; how is it possible you could be guilty of such an unworthy action, as that I hear talked of?  You gave me an account of your property yourself, and I do not doubt but the account was just.  Why did not you request money of me, and I would have lent it you?  However, after what has happened, I cannot allow you to remain longer in my house; you must go and seek for other lodgings.”  I was extremely troubled at this; and entreated the jeweller, with tears in my eyes, to let me stay three days longer; which he granted.

“Alas,” thought I, “this misfortune and affront are unsufferable; how shall I dare to return to Moussol?  Nothing I can say to my father will persuade him that I am innocent.”

Three hours after this fatal accident my house was forcibly entered by the judge’s officers, accompanied by my landlord, and the merchant who had falsely accused me of having stolen the necklace.  I asked them, what brought them there?  But instead of giving me any answer, they bound and gagged me, calling me a thousand abusive names, and telling me the necklace belonged to the governor of Damascus, who had lost it above three years before, and that one of his daughters had not been heard of since.  Judge of my sensations when I heard this intelligence.  However, I summoned all my resolution, “I will,” thought I, “tell the governor the truth, and it will rest with him either to put me to death, or to protect my innocence.”

When I was brought before him, I observed he looked upon me with an eye of compassion, from whence I augured well.  He ordered me to be untied, and addressing himself to the jeweller who accused me, and to my landlord:  “Is this the man,” asked he, “that sold the pearl necklace?” They had no sooner answered yes, than he continued, “I am sure he did not steal the necklace, and I am much astonished at the injustice that has been done him.”  These words giving me courage:  “Sir,” said I, “I do assure you I am perfectly innocent.  I am likewise fully persuaded the necklace never did belong to my accuser, whom I never saw, and whose horrible perfidy is the cause of my unjust treatment.  It is true, I made a confession as if I had stolen it; but this I did contrary to my conscience, through the force of torture, and for another reason that I am ready to give you, if you will have the goodness to hear me.”  “I know enough of it already,” replied the governor, “to do you one part of the justice to which you are entitled.  Take from hence,” continued he, “the false accuser; let him undergo the same punishment as he caused to be inflicted on this young man, whose innocence is known to myself.”

The governor’s orders were immediately put in execution; the jeweller was punished as he deserved.  Then the governor, having ordered all present to withdraw, said to me:  “My son, tell me without fear how this necklace fell into your hands, conceal nothing from me.”  I related plainly all that had passed, and declared I had chosen rather to pass for a thief than to reveal that tragical adventure.  “Good God,” exclaimed the governor, “thy judgments are incomprehensible, and we ought to submit to them without murmuring.  I receive, with entire submission, the stroke thou hast been pleased to inflict upon me.”  Then directing his discourse to me:  “My son,” said he, “having now heard the cause of your disgrace, for which I am truly concerned, I will give you an account of the affliction which has befallen myself.  Know then, that I am the father of both the young ladies you were speaking of.  The first lady, who had the impudence to come to your house, was my eldest daughter.  I had given her in marriage at Cairo to one of her cousins, my brother’s son.  Her husband died, and she returned home corrupted by every vice too often contracted in Egypt.  Before I took her home, her younger sister, who died in that deplorable manner in your arms, was a truly virtuous girl, and had never given me any occasion to complain of her conduce.  But after that, the elder sister became very intimate with her, and insensibly made her as wicked as herself.  The day after the death of the younger not finding her at home, I asked her elder sister what was become of her; but she, instead of answering, affected to weep bitterly; from whence I formed a fatal presage.  I pressed her to inform me of what she knew respecting her sister ‘Father,’ replied she, sobbing, ’I can tell you no more than that my sister put on yesterday her richest dress, with her valuable pearl necklace, went out, and has not been heard of since.’  I searched for her all over the town, but could learn nothing of her unhappy fate.  In the mean time the elder, who doubtless repented of her jealous fury, became melancholy, and incessantly bewailed the death of her sister; she denied her self all manner of food, and so put an end to her deplorable days.  Such is the condition of mankind! such are the misfortunes to which we are exposed!  However, my son,” added he, “since we are both of us equally unfortunate, let us unite our sorrow, and not abandon one another.  I will give you in marriage a third daughter I have still left, she is younger than her sisters, and in no respect imitates their conduct; besides, she is handsomer, and I assure you is of a disposition calculated to make you happy.  You shall have no other house but mine, and, after my death, you and she shall be heirs to all my property.”  “My lord,” I replied, “I am overcome by your favours, and shall never be able to make a sufficient acknowledgment.”  “Enough,” said he, interrupting me, “let us not waste time in idle words.”  He then called for witnesses, ordered the contract of marriage to be drawn, and I became the husband of his third daughter.  He was not satisfied with punishing the jeweller, who had falsely accused me, but confiscated for my use all his property, which was very considerable.  As for the rest, since you have been called to the governor’s house, you may have seen what respect they pay me there.  I must tell you further, that a person despatched by my uncles to Egypt, on purpose to inquire for me there, passing through this city found me out last night, and delivered me a letter from them.  They inform me of my father’s death, and invite me to come and take possession of his property at Moussol.  But as the alliance and friendship of the governor have fixed me here, and will not suffer me to leave him, I have sent back the express with a power, which will secure to me my inheritance.  After what you have heard, I hope you will pardon my seeming incivility during the course of my illness, in giving you my left instead of my right hand.

“This,” said the Jewish physician, “is the story I heard from the young man of Moussol.  I continued at Damascus as long as the governor lived; after his death, being still in the vigour of my age, I had the curiosity to travel.  Accordingly I went through Persia to the Indies, and came at last to settle in this your capital, where I have practised physic with reputation.”

The sultan of Casgar was well pleased with this story.  “I must confess,” said he to the Jew, “the story you have told me is very singular; but I declare freely, that of the little hump-back is:  yet more extraordinary, and much more diverting; so you are not to expect that I will give you your life, any more than the rest.  I will have you all four executed.”  “Pray, sir, stay a minute,” said the tailor, advancing, and prostrating himself at the sultan’s feet.  “Since your majesty loves pleasant stories, I have one to tell you that will not displease you.”  “Well, I will hear thee too,” said the sultan; “but do not flatter thyself that I will suffer thee to live, unless thou tellest me some adventure that is yet more diverting than that of my hump-backed jester.”  Upon this the tailor, as if he had been sure of success, spoke boldly to the following purpose.

The Story told by the Tailor.

A citizen of this city did me the honour two days ago to invite me to an entertainment, which he was to give to his friends yesterday morning.  Accordingly I went early, and found there about twenty persons.

The master of the house was gone out upon some business, but in a short time returned, and brought with him a young man, a stranger, very well dressed, and handsome, but lame.  When he entered, we all rose, and out of respect to the master of the house, invited the young man to sit down with us upon the estrade.  He was going to comply; but suddenly perceiving a barber in our company, flew backwards, and made towards the door.  The master of the house, surprised at his behaviour, stopped him.  “Where are you going?” demanded he.  “I bring you along with me to do me the honour of being my guest among the rest of my friends, and you are no sooner got into my house, than you are for running away.”  “Sir,” replied the young man, “for God’s sake do not stop me, let me go, I cannot without horror look upon that abominable barber, who, though he was born in a country where all the natives are white, resembles an Ethiopian; and his soul is yet blacker and more horrible than his face.”

We were all surprised to hear the young man speak in this manner, and began to have a very bad opinion of the barber, without knowing what ground the young man had for what he said.  Nay, we protested we would not suffer any one to remain in our company, who bore so horrid a character.  The master of the house intreated the stranger to tell us what reason he had for hating the barber.  “Gentlemen,” resumed the young man, “you must know this cursed barber is the cause of my being lame, and having fallen into the most ridiculous and teasing situation you can imagine.  For this reason I have sworn to avoid all the places where he is, and even not to stay in the cities where he resides.  It was for this reason that I left Bagdad, where he then dwelt; and travelled so far to settle in this city, at the extremity of Tartary; a place where I flattered myself I should never see him.  And now, after all, contrary to my expectation, I find him here.  This obliges me, gentlemen, against my will, to deprive myself of the honour of being merry with you.  This very day I shall take leave of your town, and go, if I can, to hide my head where he cannot come.”  This said, he would have left us, but the master of the house earnestly intreated him to stay, and tell us the cause of his aversion for the barber, who all this while looked down and said not a word.  We joined with the master of the house in his request; and at last the young man, yielding to our importunities, sat down; and, after turning his back on the barber, that he might not see him, gave us the following narrative of his adventures.

My father’s quality might have entitled him to the highest posts in the city of Bagdad, but he always preferred a quiet life to the honours of a public station.  I was his only child, and when he died I had finished my education, and was of age to dispose of the plentiful fortune he had left me; which I did not squander away foolishly, but applied to such uses as obtained for me everybody’s respect.  I had not yet been disturbed by any passion:  I was so far from being sensible of love, that I bashfully avoided the conversation of women.  One day, walking in the streets, I saw a large party of ladies before me; and that I might not meet them, I turned down a narrow lane, and sat down upon a bench by a door.  I was placed opposite a window, where stood a pot of beautiful flowers, on which I had my eyes fixed, when the window opened, and a young lady appeared, whose beauty struck me.  Immediately she fixed her eyes upon me; and in watering the flowerpot with a hand whiter than alabaster, looked upon me with a smile, that inspired me with as much love for her as I had formerly aversion for all women.  After having watered her flowers, and darted upon me a glance full of charms that pierced my heart, she shut the window, and left me in inconceivable perplexity, from which I should not have recovered, if a noise in the street had not brought me to myself.  I lifted up my head, and turning, saw the first cauzee of the city, mounted on a mule, and attended by five or six servants:  he alighted at the door of the house, where the young lady had opened the window, and went in; from whence I concluded he was her father.  I went home in an altered state of mind; agitated by a passion the more violent, as I had never felt its assaults before:  I retired to bed in a violent fever, at which all the family were much concerned.  My relations, who had a great affection for me, were so alarmed by the sudden disorder, that they importuned me to tell the cause; which I took care not to discover.  My silence created an uneasiness that the physicians could not dispel, because they knew nothing of my distemper, and by their medicines rather inflamed than checked it.  My relations began to despair of my life, when an old lady of our acquaintance, hearing I was ill, came to see me.  She considered me with great attention, and after having examined me, penetrated, I know not how, into the real cause of my illness.  She took my relations aside, and desired all my people would retire out of the room, and leave her with me alone.

When the room was clear, she sat down on the side of my bed.  “My son,” said she, “you have obstinately concealed the cause of your illness; but you have no occasion to reveal it to me.  I have experience enough to penetrate into a secret; you will not deny when I tell you it is love that makes you sick.  I can find a way to cure you, if you will but inform me who that happy lady is, that could move a heart so insensible as yours; for you have the character of a woman-hater, and I was not the last who perceived that such was your disposition; but what I foresaw has come to pass, and I am now glad of the opportunity to employ my talents in relieving your pain.”

The old lady having thus spoken, paused, expecting my answer; but though what she had said had made a strong impression upon me, I durst not lay open to her the bottom of my heart; I only turned to her, and heaved a deep sigh, without replying a word.  “Is it bashfulness,” said she, “that keeps you silent?  Or is it want of confidence in me?  Do you doubt the effect of my promise?  I could mention to you a number of young men of your acquaintance, who have been in the same condition with yourself, and have received relief from me.”

The good lady told me so many more circumstances that I broke silence, declared to her my complaint, pointed out to her the place where I had seen the object which occasioned it, and unravelled all the circumstances of my adventure.  “If you succeed,” added I, “and procure me the happiness of seeing that charming beauty, and revealing to her the passion with which I burn for her, you may depend upon it I will be grateful.”  “My son,” replied the old woman, “I know the lady you speak of; she is, as you rightly judged, the daughter of the first cauzee of this city:  I am not surprised that you are in love with her.  She is the handsomest and most lovely lady in Bagdad, but very proud, and of difficult access.  You know how strict our judges are, in enjoining the punctual observance of the severe laws that confine women; and they are yet more strict in the observation of them in their own families; the cauzee you saw is more rigid in that point than any of the other magistrates.  They are always preaching to their daughters what a heinous crime it is to shew themselves to men; and the girls themselves are so prepossessed with the notion, that they make no other use of their own eves but to conduct them along the street, when necessity obliges them to go abroad.  I do not say absolutely that the first cauzee’s daughter is of that humour; but that does not hinder my fearing to meet with as great obstacles on her side, as on her father’s.  Would to God you had loved any other, then I should not have had so many difficulties to surmount.  However, I will employ all my wits to compass the matter; but it requires time.  In the mean while take courage and trust to me.”

The old woman took leave; and as I weighed within myself all the obstacles she had been talking of, the fear of her not succeeding in her undertaking inflamed my disorder.  Next day she came again, and I read in her countenance that she had no favourable news to impart.  She spoke thus:  “My son, I was not mistaken, I have somewhat else to conquer besides the vigilance of a father.  You love an insensible object, who takes pleasure in making every one miserable who suffers himself to be charmed by her; she will not deign them the least comfort:  she heard me with pleasure, when I spoke of nothing but the torment she made you undergo; but I no sooner opened my mouth to engage her to allow you to see her, and converse with her, but casting at me a terrible look, ’You are very presumptuous,’ said she, ’to make such a proposal to me; I charge you never to insult me again with such language.’

“Do not let this cast you down,” continued she; “I am not easily disheartened, and am not without hope but I shall compass my end.”  To shorten my story, this good woman made several fruitless attacks in my behalf on the proud enemy of my rest.  The vexation I suffered inflamed my distemper to that degree, that my physicians gave me over.  I was considered as a dead man, when the old woman came to recall me to life.

That no one might hear what was said, she whispered in my ear; “Remember the present you owe for the good news I bring you.”  These words produced a marvellous effect; I raised myself up in the bed, and with transport replied, “You shall not go without a present; but what is the news you bring me?” “Dear sir,” said she “you shall not die; I shall speedily have the pleasure to see you in perfect health, and very well satisfied with me.  Yesterday I went to see the lady you love, and found her in good humour.  As soon as I entered, I put on a sad countenance heaved many deep sighs, and began to squeeze out some tears.  ‘My good mother,’ demanded she ’what is the matter with you, why are you so cast down?’ ‘Alas, my dear and honourable lady,’ I replied, ’I have just been with the young gentleman of whom I spoke to you the other day, who is dying on your account.’  ’I am at a loss to know,’ said she, ’how you make me to be the cause of his death.  How can I have contributed to it?’ ‘How?’ replied I; ’did not you tell me the other day, that he sat down before your window when you opened it to water your flower-pot?  He then saw that prodigy of beauty, those charms that your mirror daily represents to you.  From that moment he languished, and his disorder has so increased, that he is reduced to the deplorable condition I have mentioned.’

“‘You well remember,’ added I, ’how harshly you treated me at our last interview; when I was speaking to you of his illness, and proposing a way to save him from the threatened consequences of his complaint.  After I left you I went directly to his house, and he no sooner learnt from my countenance that I had brought no favourable answer than his distemper increased.  From that time, madam, he has been at the point of death; and I doubt whether your compassion would not now come too late to save his life.’  The fear of your death alarmed her, and I saw her face change colour.  ‘Is your account true?’ she asked.  ’Has he actually no other disorder than what is occasioned by his love of me?’ ’Ah, madam!’ I replied, ‘it is too true; would it were false!’ ’Do you believe,’ said she, ’that the hopes of seeing me would at all contribute to rescue him from his danger?’ I answered, ’Perhaps it may, and if you will permit me, I will try the remedy.’?  ‘Well,’ resumed she, sighing, ’give him hopes of seeing me; but he must pretend to no other favours, unless he aspire to marry me, and obtains my father’s consent.’  ‘Madam,’ replied I. ’your goodness overcomes me; I will instantly seek the young gentleman, and tell him he is to have the pleasure of an interview with you.’  ‘The best opportunity I can think of,’ said she, ’for granting him that favour, will be next Friday at the hour of noon prayers.  Let him observe when my father goes out, and then, if his health permits him to be abroad, come and place himself opposite the house.  I shall then see him from my window, and will come down and open the door for him:  we will converse together during prayer-time; but he must depart before my father returns.’

“It is now Tuesday,” continued the old lady “you have the interval between this and Friday to recover your strength, and make the necessary dispositions for the interview.”  While the good old lady was speaking, I felt my illness decrease, or rather, by the time she had done, I found myself perfectly recovered.  “Here, take this,” said I, reaching out to her my purse, which was full, “it is to you alone that I owe my cure.  I reckon this money better employed than all that I gave the physicians, who have only tormented me during my illness.”

When the lady was gone, I found I had strength enough to get up:  and my relations finding me so well, complimented me on the occasion, and went home.

On Friday morning the old woman came, just as I was dressing, and choosing out the richest clothes in my wardrobe, said, “I do not ask you how you are, what you are about is intimation enough of your health; but will not you bathe before you go?” “That will take up too much time,” I replied; “I will content myself with sending for a barber, to shave my head.”  Immediately I ordered one of my slaves to call a barber that could do his business cleverly and expeditiously.

The slave brought me the wretch you see here, who came, and after saluting me, said, “Sir, you look as if you were not well.”  I told him I was just recovered from a fit of sickness.  “May God,” resumed he, “deliver you from all mischance; may his grace always go along with you.”  “I hope he will grant your wish, for which I am obliged to you.”  “Since you are recovering from a fit of sickness,” he continued, “I pray God preserve your health; but now let me know what I am to do; I have brought my razors and my lancets, do you desire to be shaved or to be bled?” I replied, “I am just recovered from a fit of sickness, and you may readily judge I only want to be shaved:  come, do not lose time in prattling; for I am in haste, and have an appointment precisely at noon.”

The barber spent much time in opening his case, and preparing his razors Instead of putting water into the basin, he took a very handsome astrolabe out of his case, and went very gravely out of my room to the middle of the court to take the height of the sun:  he returned with the same grave pace, and entering my room, said, “Sir, you will be pleased to know this day is Friday the 18th of the moon Suffir, in the year 653, from the retreat of our great prophet from Mecca to Medina, and in the year 7320 of the epocha of the great Iskender with two horns; and that the conjunction of Mars and Mercury signifies you cannot choose a better time than this very day and hour for being shaved.  But, on the other hand, the same conjunction is a bad presage to you.  I learn from it, that this day you run a great risk, not indeed of losing your life, but of an inconvenience which will attend you while you live.  You are obliged to me for the advice I now give you, to avoid this accident; I shall be sorry if it befall you.”

You may guess, gentlemen, how vexed I was at having fallen into the hands of such a prattling, impertinent fellow; what an unseasonable adventure was it for a lover preparing for an interview with his mistress!  I was quite irritated.  “I care not,” said I, in anger, “for your advice and predictions; I did not call you to consult your astrology; you came hither to shave me; shave me, or begone.”  “I will call another barber, sir,” replied he, with a coolness that put me out of all patience; “what reason have you to be angry with me?  You do not know, that all of my profession are not like me; and that if you made it your business to search, you would not find such another.  You only sent for a barber; but here, in my person, you have the best barber in Bagdad, an experienced physician, a profound chemist, an infallible astrologer, a finished grammarian, a complete orator, a subtle logician, a mathematician perfectly well versed in geometry, arithmetic, astronomy, and all the refinements of algebra; an historian fully master of the histories of all the kingdoms of the universe.  Besides, I understand all parts of philosophy.  I have all our sacred traditions by heart.  I am a poet, I am an architect; and what is it I am not?  There is nothing in nature hidden from me.  Your deceased father, to whose memory I pay a tribute of tears every time I think of him, was fully convinced of my merit; he was fond of me, and spoke of me in all companies as the first man in the world.  Out of gratitude and friendship for him, I am willing to attach myself to you, to take you under my protection, and guard you from all the evils that your stars may threaten.”

When I heard all this jargon, I could not forbear laughing, notwithstanding my anger.  “You impertinent prattler!” said I, “will you have done, and begin to shave me?”

“Sir,” replied the barber, “you affront me in calling me a prattler; on the contrary, all the world gives me the honourable title of Silent.  I had six brothers, whom you might justly have called prattlers.  These indeed were impertinent chatterers, but for me, who am a younger brother, I am grave and concise in my discourse.”

For God’s sake, gentlemen, do but suppose you had been in my place.  What could I say when I saw myself so cruelly delayed?  “Give him three pieces of gold,” said I to the slave who was my housekeeper, “and send him away, that he may disturb me no more; I will not be shaved this day.”  “Sir,” said the barber, “pray what do you mean?  I did not come to seek for you, you sent for me; and as that is the case I swear by the faith of a Moosulmaun, I will not stir out of these doors till I have shaved you.  If you do not know my value, it is not my fault.  Your deceased father did me more justice.  Every time he sent for me to let him blood, he made me sit down by him, and was charmed with hearing what witty things I said.  I kept him in a continual strain of admiration; I elevated him; and when I had finished my discourse, ‘My God,’ he would exclaim, ’you are an inexhaustible source of science, no man can reach the depth of your knowledge.’  ’My dear sir,’ I would answer, ’you do me more honour than deserve.  If I say anything that is worth hearing, it is owing to the favourable audience you vouchsafe me; it is your liberality that inspires me with the sublime thoughts which have the happiness to please you.’  One day, when he was charmed with an admirable discourse I had made him, he said, ’Give him a hundred pieces of gold, and invest him with one of my richest robes.’  I instantly received the present.  I then drew his horoscope, and found it the happiest in the world.  Nay I carried my gratitude further; I let him blood with cupping-glasses.”

This was not all; he spun out another harangue that was a full half hour long.  Tired with hearing him, and fretted at the loss of time, which was almost spent before I was half ready, I did not know what to say.  “It is impossible,” I exclaimed, “there should be such another man in the world who takes pleasure, as you do, in making people mad.”

I thought I might perhaps succeed better if I dealt mildly with my barber.  “In the name of God,” said I, “leave off talking, and shave me directly:  business of the last importance calls me, as I have already told you.”  At these words he fell a laughing:  “It would be fortunate,” said he, “if our minds were always in the same state; if we were always wise and prudent.  I am willing, however, to believe, that if you are angry with me, it is your disorder that has caused the change in your temper, for which reason you stand in need of some instructions, and you cannot do better than follow the example of your father and grandfather.  They came and consulted me upon all occasions, and I can say, without vanity, that they always highly prized my advice.  Pray observe, sir, men never succeed in their undertakings without the counsel of persons of understanding.  A man cannot, says the proverb, be wise without receiving advice from the wise.  I am entirely at service, and you have only to command me.”

“What! cannot I prevail with you then,” I demanded, interrupting him, “to leave off these long speeches, that tend to nothing but to distract my head, and detain me from my business?  Shave me, I say, or begone:”  with that I started up in anger, stamping my foot against the ground.

When he saw I was in earnest, he said, “Sir, do not be angry, we are going to begin.”  He lathered my head, and began to shave me; but had not given four strokes with his razor before he stopped, and addressed me, “Sir, you are hasty, you should avoid these transports that only come from the devil.  I am entitled to some consideration on account of my age, my knowledge, and my great virtues.”

“Go on and shave me,” said I, interrupting him again, “and talk no more.”  “That is to say,” replied he, “you have some urgent business to go about; I will lay you a wager I guess right.”  “Why I told you two hours ago,” I returned, “you ought to have shaved me before.”  “Moderate your passion,” replied he; “perhaps you have not maturely weighed what you are going about; when things are done precipitately, they are generally repented of.  I wish you would tell me what mighty business this is you are so earnest upon.  I would tell you my opinion of it; besides, you have time enough, since your appointment is not till noon, and it wants three hours of that yet.”  “I do not mind that,” said I; “persons of honour and of their word are rather before their time than after.  But I forget that by reasoning with you, I give into the faults of you prattling barbers; have done, have done; shave me.”

The more haste I was in, the less speed he made.  He laid down the razor, and took up his astrolabe; then laid down his astrolabe, and took up his razor again.

The barber quitted his razor again, and took up his astrolabe a second time; and so left me half shaved, to go and see precisely what hour it was.  Back he came, and exclaimed, “Sir, I knew I was not mistaken, it wants three hours of noon.  I am sure of it, or else all the rules of astronomy are false.”  “Just heaven!” cried I, “my patience is exhausted, I can bear this no longer.  You cursed barber, you barber of mischief, I can scarcely forbear falling upon you and strangling you.”  “Softly, sir,” said he, very calmly, without being moved by my anger:  “are you not afraid of a relapse?  Be not in a passion, I am going to shave you this minute.”  In speaking these words, he clapped his astrolabe in his case, took up his razor, and passing it over the strap which was fixed to his belt, fell to shaving me again; but all the while he was thus employed, the dog could not forbear prattling.  “If you would be pleased, sir,” said he, “to tell me what the business is you are going about at noon, I could give you some advice that might be of use to you.”  To satisfy the fellow, I told him I was going to meet some friends at an entertainment at noon, to make merry with me on the recovery of my health.

When the barber heard me talk of regaling; “God bless you this day, as well as all other days!” he cried:  “you put me in mind that yesterday I invited four or five friends to come and eat with me as this day; indeed I had forgotten the engagement, and have made no preparation for them.”  “Do not let that trouble you,” said I; “though I dine abroad, my larder is always well furnished.  I make you a present of all that it contains; and besides, I will order you as much wine as you have occasion for; I have excellent wine in my cellar; only you must hasten to finish shaving me:  and pray remember, as my father made you presents to encourage you to speak, I give you mine to induce you to be silent.”

He was not satisfied with my promise, but exclaimed, “God reward you, sir, for your kindness:  pray shew me these provisions now, that I may see if there will be enough to entertain my friends.  I would have them satisfied with the good fare I make them.”  “I have,” said I, “a lamb, six capons, a dozen chickens, and enough to make four courses.”  I ordered a slave to bring all before him, with four great pitchers of wine.  “It is very well,” returned the barber; “but we shall want fruit, and sauce for the meat.”  These I ordered likewise; but then he left off shaving, to look over every thing one after another; and this survey lasted almost half an hour.  I raged and stormed like a madman; but it signified nothing, the wretch made no more haste.  However, he took up his razor again, and shaved me for some minutes; then stopping suddenly, exclaimed, “I could not have believed, sir, that you would have been so liberal; I begin to perceive that your deceased father lives again in you.  Most certainly, I do not deserve the favours with which you have loaded me; and I assure you I shall have them in perpetual remembrance; for, sir, to let you know, I have nothing but what I obtain from the generosity of such gentlemen as you:  in which respect, I am like to Zantout, who rubs the people in the baths; to Sali, who cries boiled peas in the streets; to Salout, who sells beans; to Akerscha, who sells greens; to Aboumecarez, who sprinkles the streets to lay the dust; and to Cassem, the caliph’s lifeguard man.  Of all these persons, not one is apt so be melancholy; they are neither impertinent nor quarrelsome; they are more contented with their lot, than the caliph in the midst of his court; they are always gay, ready to sing and dance, and have each of them their peculiar song and dance, with which they divert the city of Bagdad; but what I esteem most in them is, that they are no great talkers, any more than your slave, that has bow the honour to speak to you.  Here, sir, is the song and dance of Zantout, who rubs the people in the baths; mind me, pray, and see if I do not imitate it exactly.”

The barber sung the song, and danced the dance of Zantout; and let me say what I could to oblige him to finish his buffooneries, he did not cease till he had imitated, in like manner, the songs and dances of the other persons he had named.  “After that,” addressing himself to me, “I am going,” said he, “to invite all these honest men to my house; if you will take my advice you will join us, and disappoint your friends, who perhaps are great talkers.  They will only teaze you to death with their impertinent discourse, and make you relapse into a disorder worse than that from which you are so lately recovered; whereas at my house you shall have nothing but pleasure.”

Notwithstanding my anger, I could not forbear laughing at the fellow’s impertinence.  “I wish I had no business upon my hands,” I replied, “I would accept your invitation, and go with all my heart to partake of your entertainment; but I beg to be excused, I am too much engaged; another day I shall be more at leisure, and then we will make up the same party.  Come, finish shaving me, and make haste home; perhaps your friends are already arrived at your house.”  “Sir,” replied he, “do not refuse me the favour I ask of you; were you but once in our company, it would afford you so much pleasure as abundantly to compensate you for forsaking your friends.”  “Let us talk no more of that,” said I; “I cannot be your guest.”

I found I gained no ground by mild terms.  “Since you will not come to my house,” replied the barber, “you must allow me to go along with you:  I will carry these things to my house, where my friends may eat of them if they like, and I will return immediately; I would not be so uncivil as to leave you alone.  You deserve this piece of complaisance at my hands.”  “Heavens!” cried I, “then I shall not get clear of this troublesome fellow to-day.  In the name of the living God, leave off your unreasonable jargon; go to your friends, drink, eat, and be merry with them, and leave me at liberty to go to mine.  I must go alone, I have no occasion for company; besides, I must needs tell you, the place to which I go is not one where you can be received.”  “You jest, sir,” said he; “if your friends have invited you to a feast, what should prevent you from allowing me to go with you?  You will please them, I am sure, by introducing to them a man who can talk wittily like me, and knows how to divert company.  But say what you will, I am determined to accompany you.”

These words, gentlemen, perplexed me much.  “How,” thought I, “shall I get rid of this cursed barber?  If I persist in contradicting him, we shall never have done.”

Besides, I heard at this instant the first call to noon-prayers, and it was time for me to go.  In fine, I resolved to say nothing, and to make as if I consented to his accompanying me.  He then finished shaving me, and I said to him, “Take some of my servants to carry these provisions along with you, and return hither; I will stay for you, and shall not go without you.”

At last he went, and I dressed myself as expeditiously as I could.  I heard the last call to prayers, and hastened to set out:  but the malicious barber, who guessed my intention, went with my servants only within sight of the house and stood there till he saw them enter it, after which he concealed himself at the corner of the street, with an intent to observe and follow me.  In fine, when I arrived at the cauzee’s door, I looked back and saw him at the head of the street which alarmed me to the last degree.

The cauzee’s door was half open, and as I went in I saw an old woman waiting for me, who, after she had shut the door, conducted me to the chamber of the young lady who was the object of my love; but we had scarcely begun to converse, when we heard a noise in the streets.  The young lady put her head to the window, and saw through the gate that it was her father already returning from prayers.  At the same time I looked, and saw the barber sitting over-against the house, on the bench from which I had first seen the young lady.

I had then two things to fear, the arrival of the cauzee, and the presence of the barber.  The young lady mitigated my apprehension on the first head, by assuring me the cauzee, came but seldom to her chamber, and as she had forseen that this misadventure might happen, she had contrived a way to convey me out safely:  but the indiscretion of the accursed barber made me very uneasy; and you shall hear that my uneasiness was not without ground.

As soon as the cauzee was come in, he caned one of his slaves, who had deserved chastisement.  This slave made a horrid noise, which was heard in the streets; the barber thought it was I who cried out, and was maltreated.  Prepossessed with this thought, he roared out aloud, rent his clothes, threw dust upon his head, and called the neighbourhood to his assistance.  The neighbours collected, and asked what assistance he wanted?  “Alas!” cried he, “they are assassinating my master, my dear patron;” and without saying anything more, he ran all the way to my house, with the very same cry in his mouth.  From thence he returned, followed by all my domestics armed with sticks.  They knocked with inconceivable fury at the door, and the cauzee sent slave to see what was the matter; but the slave being frightened, returned to his master, crying, “Sir, above ten thousand men are going to break into your house by force.”

Immediately the cauzee himself ran, opened the door, and asked what they wanted.  His venerable presence could not inspire them with respect.  They insolently said to him, “You cursed cauzee, what reason have you to assassinate our master?  What has he done to you?” “Good people,” replied the magistrate, “for what should I assassinate your master, whom I do not know and who has done me no harm? my house is open to you, come and search.”  “You bastinadoed him,” said the barber; “I heard his cries not a minute ago.”  “What harm could your master do to me,” replied the cauzee, “to oblige me to abuse him at that rate?  Is he in my house?  If he is, how came he in, or who could have introduced him?” “Ah! wretched cauzee,” cried the barber, “you and your long beard shall never make me believe you; I know your daughter is in love with our master, and appointed him a meeting during the time of noon-prayer, you without doubt have had notice of it, returned home, and surprised him, and made your slaves bastinado him:  but this your wicked action shall not pass with impunity; the caliph shall be acquainted with it, and he will give true and brief justice.  Let him come out, deliver him to us immediately; or if you do not, we will go in and take him out to your shame.”  “There is no occasion for so many words,” replied the cauzee, “nor to make so great a noise:  if what you say is true, go and find him out, I give you free liberty.”  Thereupon the barber and my domestics rushed into the house like furies, and looked for me all about.

As I heard all that the barber said to the cauzee, I sought for a place to conceal myself, and could find nothing but a large empty trunk, in which I lay down, and shut it upon me.  The barber, after he had searched everywhere, came into the chamber where I was, and opened the trunk.  As soon as he saw me, he took it upon his head and carried it away.  He descended a high staircase into a court, which he crossed hastily, and at length reached the street door.  While he was carrying me, the trunk unfortunately flew open, and not being able to endure the shame of being exposed to the view and shouts of the mob who followed us, I leaped out into the street with so much haste, that I have been lame ever since.  I was not sensible of the hurt at first, and therefore got up quickly to avoid the people, who laughed at me; nay, I threw handfuls of gold and silver among them, and whilst they were gathering it up, I made my escape by cross streets and alleys.  But the cursed barber followed me close, crying, “Stay, sir; why do you run so fast?  If you knew how much I am afflicted at the ill treatment you received from the cauzee, you, who are so generous, and to whom I and my friends are so much obliged!  Did I not tell you truly, that you would expose your life by your obstinate refusal to let me go with you?  See what has happened to you, by your own fault; and if I had not resolutely followed, to see whither you went, what would have become of you?  Whither do you go, sir?  Stay for me.”

Thus the barber cried aloud in the street it was not enough for him to have occasioned so great a scandal in the quarter where the cauzee lived, but he would have it known through the whole town.  I was in such a rage, that I had a great mind to stop and cut his throat; but considering this would have perplexed me farther, I chose another course.  Perceiving that his calling after me exposed me to vast numbers of people, who crowded to the doors or windows, or stopped in the street to gaze at me, I entered an inn, the chamberlain of which knew me, and finding him at the gate, whither the noise had brought him, I prayed him, for the sake of heaven, to hinder that madman from coming in after me.  He promised to do so, and was as good as his word, but not without a great deal of trouble; for the obstinate barber would enter in spite of him, and did not retire without calling him a thousand names.  After the chamberlain had shut the gate, the barber continued telling all he met what great service he had done me.  Thus I rid myself of that troublesome fellow.  After this, the chamberlain prayed me to tell him my adventure, which I did, and then desired him to let me have an apartment until I was cured.  “But sir,” said he, “will it not be more convenient for you to go home?” “I will not return thither,” replied I:  “for the detestable barber will continue plaguing me there, and I shall die of vexation to be continually teazed by him.  Besides, after what has befallen me to-day, I cannot think of staying any longer in this town; I must go whither my ill-fortune leads me.”  Accordingly, when I was cured, I took all the money I thought necessary for my travels, and divided the rest of my property among my kindred.

Thus, gentlemen, I left Bagdad, and came hither.  I had ground to hope that I should not meet this pernicious barber in a country so far from my own, and yet I find him amongst you.  Be not surprised then at my haste to be gone:  you may easily judge how unpleasant to me is the sight of a man who was the occasion of my lameness, and of my being reduced to the melancholy necessity of living so far from my kindred, friends, and country.

When he had spoken these words, the lame young man rose up and went out; the master of the house conducted him to the gate, and told him, he was sorry that he had given him, though innocently, so great a subject of mortification.

When the young man was gone, continued the tailor, we were all astonished at the story, and turning to the barber, told him he was very much to-blame, if what we had just heard was true.  “Gentlemen,” answered he, raising up his head, which till then he had held down, “my silence during the young man’s discourse is sufficient to testify that he advanced nothing that was not true:  but for all that he has said to you, I maintain that I ought to have done what I did; I leave you to be judges.  Did not he throw himself into danger, and could he have come off so well without my assistance?  He may think himself happy to have escaped with the lame leg Did not I expose myself to greater danger to get him out of a house where I thought he was ill-treated?  Has he any reason to complain of and abuse me?  This is what one gets by serving unthankful people.  He accuses me of being a prattling fellow, which is a mere slander:  of seven brothers, I speak least, and have most wit to my share; and to convince you of this, gentlemen, I need only relate my own story and theirs.  Honour me, I beseech you, with your attention.”

The Story of the Barber.

In the reign of the caliph Mustunsir Billah, that is, seeking victory of God, a prince so famous for his liberality towards the poor, ten highwaymen infested the roads about Bagdad, and for a long time committed unheard-of robberies and cruelties.  The caliph, having notice of this, sent for the judge of the police, some days before the feast of Bairam, and ordered him, on pain of death, to bring all the ten to him.

The judge of the police used so much diligence, and sent so many people in pursuit of the ten robbers, that they were taken on the very day of Bairam.  I was walking at the time on the banks of the Tigris, and saw ten men richly appareled go into a boat.  Had I but observed the guards who had them in custody, I might have concluded they were robbers; but my attention was fixed on the men themselves, and thinking they were people who designed to spend the festival in jollity, I entered the boat with them, hoping they would not object to my making one of the company.  We descended the Tigris, and landed before the caliph’s palace:  I had by this time had leisure to reflect, and to discover my mistake.  When we quitted the boat, we were surrounded by a new troop of the judge of the police’s guard, who bound us all, and carried us before the caliph.  I suffered myself to be bound as well as the rest, without speaking one word:  for what would it have availed to have spoken, or made any resistance?  That had been the way to have got myself ill-treated by the guards, who would not have listened to me, for they are brutish fellows, who will hear no reason:  I was with the robbers, and that was enough to make them believe me to be one of their number.

When we had been brought before the caliph, he ordered the ten highwaymen’s heads to be cut off immediately.  The executioner drew us up in a file within reach of his arm, and by good fortune I was placed last.  He cut off the heads of the ten highwaymen, beginning at the first; and when he came to me, he stopped.  The caliph perceiving that he did not strike me, grew angry:  “Did not I command thee,” said he, “to cut off the heads of ten highwaymen, and why hast thou cut off but nine?” “Commander of the faithful,” he replied, “Heaven preserve me from disobeying your majesty’s orders:  here are ten bodies upon the ground, and as many heads which I have cut off; your majesty may count them.”  When the caliph saw that what the executioner said was true, he looked at me with amazement, and perceiving that I had not the face of a highwayman, said to me, “Good old man, how came you to be among those wretches, who have deserved a thousand deaths?” I answered, “Commander of the faithful, I will make a true confession.  This morning I saw those ten persons, whose punishment is a proof of your majesty’s justice, take boat:  I embarked with them, thinking they were men going to celebrate this day, which is the most distinguished in our religion.”  The caliph could not forbear laughing at my adventure; and instead of treating me as a prattling fellow, as this lame young man did, he admired my discretion and taciturnity.  “Commander of the faithful,” I resumed, “your majesty need not wonder at my silence on such an occasion, as would have made another apt to speak.  I make a particular profession of holding my peace, and on that account have acquired the glorious title of Silent; by which I am distinguished from my six brothers.  This is the effect of my philosophy; and, in a word, in this virtue consists my glory and happiness.”  “I am glad,” said the caliph, smiling, “that they gave you a title which you know so well how to use.  But tell me what sort of men were your brothers, were they like you?” “By no means,” I replied; “they were all of them loquacious, prating fellows.  And as to their persons, there was still a greater difference betwixt them and me.  The first was hump-backed; the second had rotten teeth; the third had but one eye; the fourth was blind; the fifth had his ears cut off; and the sixth had hare-lips.  They had met with such adventures as would enable you to judge of their characters, had I the honour of relating them to your majesty:”  and the caliph seemed desirous to hear their several stories, I went on without waiting his commands.

The Story of the Barber’s Eldest Brother.

My eldest brother, whose name was Bacbouc the hump-back, was a tailor:  when he came out of his apprenticeship, he hired a shop opposite a mill, and having but very little business, could scarcely maintain himself.  The miller, on the contrary, was very wealthy, and had a handsome wife.  One day as my brother was at work in his shop, he saw the miller’s wife looking out of the window, and was charmed with her beauty.  The woman took no notice of him, but shut her window, and made her appearance no more that day The poor tailor did nothing all day long but lift up his eyes towards the mill.  He pricked his finger oftener than once, and his work was not very regular.  At night, when he was to shut his shop, he could scarcely tell how to do it, because he still hoped the miller’s wife would once more come to the window; but at last he was forced to shut up, and go home, where he passed but a very uncomfortable night.  He arose betimes in the morning, and ran to his shop, in hopes to see his mistress; but he was no happier than the day before, for the miller’s wife did not appear at the window above a minute in the course of the day, but that minute made the tailor the most amorous man that ever lived.  The third day he had more ground of satisfaction, for the miller’s wife cast her eyes upon him by chance, and surprised him as he was gazing at her, which convinced her of what passed in his mind.

No sooner did the miller’s wife perceive my brother’s inclination, than, instead of allowing it to excite her resentment, she resolved to divert herself with it.  She looked at him with a smiling countenance, and my brother returned her smile, but in so ludicrous a way, that the miller’s wife hastily shut her window, lest her loud laughter should make him sensible that she only ridiculed him.  Poor Bacbouc interpreted her carriage to his own advantage, and flattered himself that she looked upon him with pleasure.

The miller’s wife resolved to have sport with my brother:  she had a piece of very fine stuff, with which she had a long time designed to make a vest; she wrapped it up in a fine embroidered silk handkerchief, and sent it to him by a young slave whom she kept; who being taught her lesson, went to the tailor’s shop, and told him, “My mistress gives you her service, and prays you to make her a vest of this stuff according to this pattern; she changes her dress often, so that her custom will be profitable to you.”  My brother doubted not but the miller’s wife loved him, and thought she had sent him work so soon after what had passed betwixt them, only to signify that she knew his mind, and convince him that he had obtained her favour.  He charged the slave to tell her mistress, that he would lay aside all work for hers and that the vest should be ready next morning.  He worked at it with so much diligence, that he finished it in the course of the same day.  Next morning the young slave came to see if the vest was ready.  Bacbouc delivered it to her neatly folded up, telling her, “I am too much concerned to please your mistress to neglect her work; I would engage her by my diligence to employ no other than myself for the time to come.”  The young slave went some steps as if she had intended to go away, and then coming back, whispered to my brother, “I had forgotten part of my commission; my mistress charged me to make her compliments to you, and to ask how you passed the night; as for her, poor woman, she loves you to that degree that she could not sleep.”  “Tell her,” answered my silly brother, “I have so strong a passion for her, that for these four nights I have not slept one wink.”  After such a compliment from the miller’s wife, my brother thought she would not let him languish long in expectation of her favours.

About a quarter of an hour after, the slave returned to my brother with a piece of satin:  “My mistress,” said she, “is very well pleased with her vest, nothing in the world can fit her better, and as it is very handsome, she will not wear it without a new pair of drawers; she prays you to make her one, as soon as you can, of this piece of satin.”  “Enough,” said Bacbouc, “I will do it before I leave my shop:  you shall have it in the evening.”  The miller’s wife shewed herself often at her window, and was very prodigal of her charms, to encourage my brother.  You would have laughed to see him work.  The pair of drawers was soon made, and the slave came for it, but brought the tailor no money, neither for the trimming he had bought for the vest, nor for the making.  In the mean time, this unfortunate lover, whom they only amused, though he could not see it, had eaten nothing all that day, and was forced to borrow money at night to buy his supper.  Next morning, as soon as he arrived at his shop, the young slave came to tell him that the miller wanted to speak to him.  “My mistress,” said she, “spoke to him so much in your praise, when she shewed him your work, that he has a mind you should work for him also; she does this on purpose, that the connection she wishes to form betwixt you and him may crown your mutual wishes with success.”  My brother was easily persuaded, and went to the mill with the slave.  The miller received him very kindly, and shewed him a piece of cloth, and told him he wanted shirts, bade him make it into twenty, and return him again what was left.

My brother had work enough for five or six days to make twenty shirts for the miller, who afterwards gave him another piece of cloth to make him as many pair of drawers.  When they were finished, Bacbouc carried them to the miller, who asked him what he must have for his pains.  My brother answered, he would be content with twenty dirhems of silver.  The miller immediately called the young slave, and bade her bring him his weights to see if his money was right.  The slave, who had her lesson, looked at my brother with an angry countenance, to signify to him, that he would spoil all if he took money.  He knew her meaning, and refused to take any, though he wanted it so much that he was forced to borrow some to buy the thread to sew the shirts and drawers.  When he left the miller, he came to me to borrow money to purchase provisions, and told me they did not pay him.  I gave him some copper money I had in my purse, and upon that he subsisted for some days.  It is true, indeed, he lived upon nothing but broth, nor had he his fill of that.

One day he went to the miller, who was busy at his work, and thinking my brother came for money, offered him some; but the young slave being present, made him another sign not to take it, which he complied with, and told the miller he did not come for his money, but only to know how he did.  The miller thanked him, and gave him an upper garment to make.  Bacbouc carried it to him the next day.  When the miller drew out his purse, the young slave gave my brother the usual sign, on which he said to the miller, “Neighbour, there is no haste, we will reckon another time;” so that the poor ninny went to his shop again, with three terrible distempers, love, hunger, and an empty purse.  The miller’s wife was not only avaricious, but ill-natured; for, not content with cheating my brother of his due, she provoked her husband to revenge himself upon him for making love to her, which they accomplished thus.  The miller invited Bacbouc one night to supper, and after giving him a very sorry treat, said to him, “Brother, it is too late for you to return home, you had better stay here all night,” and then took him to a place in the mill, where there was a bed; there he left him, and went to bed with his wife.  About the middle of the night, the miller came to my brother, and said, “Neighbour, are you asleep?  My mule is ill, and I have a quantity of corn to grind; you will do me a great kindness if you will turn the mill in her stead.”  Bacbouc, to shew his good nature, told him, he was ready to do him that service, if he would shew him how.  The miller tied him by the middle in the mule’s place, and whipping him soundly over the back, said to him, “Go on, neighbour.”  “Ho!” exclaimed my brother, “why do you beat me?” “It is to make you brisk,” replied the miller, “for without a whip my mule will not go.”  Bacbouc was amazed at this treatment, but durst not complain.  When he had gone five or six rounds, he would fain have rested; but the miller gave him a dozen sound lashes, saying, “Courage, neighbour! do not stop, pray; you must go on without taking breath, otherwise you will spoil my meal.”

The miller obliged my brother to turn the mill thus all night.  About break of day he left him without untying him, and went to his wife’s chamber.  Bacbouc continued there for some time, and at last the young slave came and untied him.  “Ah!” said the treacherous wretch, “how my mistress and I pitied you!  We had no hand in this wicked trick which her husband has played you.”  The wretched Bacbouc answered not a word, he was so much fatigued with work and blows; but crept home to his house, resolving never to think more of the miller’s wife.

The telling of this story, continued the barber, made the caliph laugh.  “Go home,” said he to me, “I have ordered something to be given you to make up for the loss of the good dinner you expected.”  “Commander of the faithful,” I replied, “I pray your majesty to let me stay till I have told the story of my other brothers.”  The caliph having signified by his silence that he was willing to hear me, I went on thus.

The Story of the Barber’s Second Brother.

My second brother, who was called Backbarah the Toothless, going one day through the city, met in a distant street an old woman, who came up to him, and said, “I want one word with you, pray stop a moment.”  He did so, and asked what she would have.  “If you have time to come with me,” said she, “I will bring you into a stately palace, where you shall see a lady as fair as the day.  She will receive you with much pleasure, and treat you with excellent wine.  I need say no more.”  “But is what you say true?” demanded my brother.  “I am no lying hussy,” replied the old woman.  “I say nothing to you but what is true.  But hark, I have something to ask of you.  You must be prudent, say but little, and be extremely polite.”  Backbarah agreed to all this.  The old woman went on, and he followed her.  They came to the gate of a great palace, where there was a number of officers and domestics.  Some of them would have stopped my brother, but no sooner did the old woman speak to them than they let him pass.  Then turning to my brother, she said to him, “You must remember that the young lady I bring you to loves good-nature and modesty, and cannot endure to be contradicted; if you please her in these respects, you may be sure to obtain of her what you please.”  Backbarah thanked her for this advice, and promised to follow it.

She brought him into a superb court, answerable to the magnificence of the palace.  There was a gallery round it, and a garden in the middle.  The old woman made him sit down on a handsome sofa, and bade him stay a moment, till she went to acquaint the young lady with his arrival.

My brother, who had never been in such a stately palace before, gazed on the fine things that he saw; and judging of his good fortune by the magnificence of the palace, he was scarcely able to contain himself for joy.  In a short time he heard a great noise, occasioned by a troop of merry slaves, who came towards him with loud fits of laughter; and in the middle of them he perceived a young lady of extraordinary beauty, who was easily known to be their mistress by the respect they paid her.  Backbarah, who expected private conversation with the lady, was extremely surprised when he saw so much company with her.  In the mean time, the slaves, as they drew near, put on a grave countenance; and when the young lady came up to the sofa, my brother rose and made her a low obeisance.  She took the upper seat, prayed him to sit down, and said to him with a smiling countenance, “I am much pleased to see you, and wish you all the happiness you can desire.”  “Madam,” replied Backbarah, “I cannot desire a greater happiness than to be in your company.”  “You seem to be of a pleasant humour,” said she, “and to be disposed to pass the time agreeably.”

She commanded a collation to be brought; and immediately a table was covered with several baskets of fruit and sweetmeats.  The lady sat down at the table with the slaves and my brother; and he being placed just opposite to her, when he opened his mouth to eat, she perceived he had no teeth; and taking notice of this to her slaves, she and they laughed heartily.  Backbarah, from time to time, lifted up his head to look at her, and perceiving her laugh, concluded it was from the pleasure she derived from his company, and flattered himself that she would speedily send away her slaves, and remain with him alone.  She guessed his thoughts, and amusing herself to flatter him in this mistake, addressed him in the most pleasant language, and presented him the best of every thing with her own hand.  The entertainment being finished, they rose from the table; ten slaves took musical instruments, and began to play and sing, and others to dance.  My brother, to please them, danced likewise, and the lady danced with them.  After they had danced some time, they sat down to take breath, and the young lady calling for a glass of wine, looked upon my brother with a smiling countenance, to signify that she was going to drink his health.  He rose and stood while she drank.  When she had done instead of giving back the glass, she ordered it to be filled, and presented it to my brother, that he might pledge her.

My brother took the glass from the young lady’s hand, which he kissed at the same time and stood and drank to her, in return for the favour she had done him.  The lady then made him sit down by her, and began to caress him.  She put her hand behind his head, and gave him some tips from time to time with her fingers:  ravished with these favours, he thought himself the happiest man in the world, and felt disposed to kiss the charming lady, but durst not take that liberty before so many slaves, who had their eyes upon him, and laughed at their lady’s wanton tricks.  The young lady continued to tip him with her fingers, but at last gave him such a sound box on the ear, that he grew angry; the colour came into his face, and he rose up to remove to a greater distance from such a rude playfellow.  Then the old woman, who brought him thither, gave him a look, to let him know that he was in the wrong, and that he had forgotten her advice, to be very complaisant.  He owned his fault, and to make amends, went near the young lady again, pretending that he did not remove out of any ill-humour.  She drew him by the arm, made him sit down by her, and gave him a thousand malicious squeezes.  Her slaves took their part in the diversion; one gave poor Backbarah several fillips on the nose with all her might; another pulled him by the ears, as if she would have pulled them off; and others boxed him in a manner that might have made it appear they were not in jest.  My brother bore all this with admirable patience, affecting a gay air, and looking at the old woman, said to her with a forced smile, “You told me, indeed, that I should find the lady perfectly kind, pleasant, and charming; I am mightily obliged to you!” “All this is nothing,” replied the old woman; “let her go on, you will see other things by and by.”  Then the young lady said to him, “Brother, you are a brave man; I am glad to find you are so good-humoured and complaisant to bear with my little caprices, and that your humour is so conformable to mine.”  “Madam,” replied Backbarah, who was charmed with this address, “I am no more at my own disposal, I am wholly yours, you may do with me as you please.”  “How you oblige me,” returned the lady, “by such submission!  I am well pleased with you, and would have you be so with me:  bring him perfume, and rose-water.”  Upon this, two slaves went out and returned speedily, one with a silver casket, filled with the best of aloes wood, with which she perfumed him; and the other with rose-water, which she sprinkled on his face and hands.  My brother was quite enraptured with this handsome treatment.  After this ceremony, the young lady commanded the slaves, who had already played on their instruments and sung, to renew their concerts.  They obeyed, and while they were thus employed, the lady called another slave, and ordered her to take my brother with her, and do what she knew, and bring him back to her again.  Backbarah, who heard this order, got up quickly, and going to the old woman, who also rose to accompany him and the slave, prayed her to inform him what they were to do with him.  “My mistress is only curious,” replied the old woman softly; “she has a mind to see how you look in a woman’s dress, and this slave, who is desired to take you with her, has orders to paint your eyebrows, to cut off your whiskers, and to dress you like a woman.”  “You may paint my eyebrows as much as you please,” said my brother, “I consent to that, because I can wash it off again; but to shave me, you know I must not permit.  How can I appear abroad again without moustaches?” “Beware of refusing what is asked of you,” returned the old woman, “you will spoil your fortune, which is now in as favourable a train as heart can wish.  The lady loves you, and has a mind to make you happy; and will you, for a nasty whisker, renounce the most delicious favours that man can obtain?” Backbarah listened to the old woman, and without saying a word went to a chamber with the slave, where they painted his eyebrows with red, cut off his whiskers, and were going to do the like with his beard.  My brother’s patience then began to fail:  “Oh!” said he, “I will never part with my beard.”  The slave told him, that it was to no purpose to have parted with his whiskers, if he would not also part with his beard, which could never comport with “woman’s dress;” and she wondered that a man, who was upon the point of being loved by the finest lady in Bagdad, should be concerned about his beard.  The old woman threatened him with the loss of the young lady’s favour; so that at last he allowed them to do what they would.  When he was dressed in female attire, they brought him before the young lady, who laughed so heartily when she saw him, that she fell backward on the sofa.  The slaves laughed and clapped their hands, so that my brother was quite out of countenance.  The young lady got up, and still laughing, said to him, “After so much complaisance, I should be very much to blame not to love you with all my heart:  but there is one thing more you must do for me, and that is, to dance as we do.”  He obeyed, and the young lady and her slaves danced with him, laughing as if they had been mad.  After they had danced some time, they all fell upon the poor wretch, and did so box and kick him, that he fell down like one out of his senses.  The old woman helped him up again:  and that he might not have time to think of his ill-treatment, bade him take courage, and whispered in his ear, that all his sufferings were at an end, and that he was just about to receive his reward.

The old woman continued her discourse to Backbarah thus:  “You have only one thing more to do, and that is but a small one.  You must know that my mistress has a custom, when she has drunk a little, as you see she has done to-day, to let no one that she loves come near her, except they be stripped to their shirt; and when they have done so, she takes a little advantage of them and begins running before them through the gallery, and from chamber to chamber, till they catch her.  This is one more of her humours:  what advantage soever she takes of you, considering your nimbleness, you will soon overtake her; strip yourself then to your shirt, undress yourself without ceremony.”

My silly brother had done too much to hesitate at anything now.  He undressed himself; and in the mean time the young lady was stripped to her shift and drawers, that she might run the more nimbly.  When they were ready, the young lady took the advantage of twenty paces, and then began to run with surprising swiftness:  my brother followed as fast as he could, the slaves in the mean time laughing heartily and clapping their hands.  The young lady, instead of losing ground, gained upon my brother:  she made him run two or three times round the gallery, and then entering a long dark passage, made her escape.  Backbarah, who still followed, having lost sight of her in the passage, was obliged to slacken his pace, because of the darkness of the place:  at last perceiving a light, he ran towards it, and went out at a door, which was immediately shut after him.  You may imagine how he was surprised to find himself in a street inhabited by curriers, and they were no less surprised to see him in his shirt, his eyes painted red, and without beard or moustaches:  they began to clap their hands and shout at him, and some of them ran after him and lashed his back with leather straps.  They then took him and set him upon an ass which they met by chance, and carried him through the town exposed to the laughter of the people.

To complete his misfortune, as he went by the judge’s house, he would needs know the cause of the tumult.  The curriers told him, that they saw him come in that condition from the gate of the apartments of the grand vizier’s women, which opened into their street; upon which the judge ordered unfortunate Backbarah to have a hundred blows with a cane on the soles of his feet, and sent him out of the town with orders never to return.

“Thus, commander of the faithful,” said I to the caliph, “I have given an account of the adventure of my second brother, who did not know that our greatest ladies divert themselves sometimes by putting such tricks upon young people, who are so foolish as to be caught in the snare.”

The barber, without breaking off, told the story of his third brother in the following manner.

The Story of the Barber’s Third Brother.

Commander of the faithful, my third brother, whose name was Backbac, was blind, and his evil destiny reduced him to beg from door to door.  He had been so long accustomed to walk through the streets alone, that he wanted none to lead him:  he had a custom to knock at people’s doors, and not to answer till they opened to him.  One day he knocked thus, and the master of the house, who was alone, cried, “Who is there?” My brother made no answer, and knocked a second time:  the master of the house asked again and again, “Who is there?” but to no purpose, no one answered; upon which he came down, opened the door, and asked my brother what he wanted?  “Give me something for Heaven’s sake,” said Backbac.  “You seem to be blind,” replied the master of the house.  “Yes, to my sorrow,” answered my brother.  “Give me your hand,” resumed the master of the house.  My brother did so, thinking he was going to give him alms; but he only took him by the hand to lead him up to his chamber.  Backbac thought he had been carrying him to dine with him, as many other people had done.  When they reached the chamber, the man let go his hand, and sitting down, asked him again what he wanted?  “I have already told you,” said Backbac, “that I want something for God’s sake.”  “Good blind man,” replied the master of the house, “all that I can do for you is to wish that God may restore you your sight.”  “You might have told me that at the door,” replied my brother, “and not have given me the trouble to come up stairs.”  “And why, fool,” said the man of the house, “do not you answer at first, when people ask you who is there?  Why do you give any body the trouble to come and open the door when they speak to you?” “What will you do with me then?” asked my brother.  “I tell you again,” said the man of the house, “I have nothing to give you.”  “Help me down the stairs then, as you brought me up.”  “The stairs are before you,” said the man of the house, “and you may go down by yourself if you will.”  My brother attempted to descend, but missing a step about the middle of the stairs, fell to the bottom and hurt his head and his back:  he got up again with much difficulty, and went out cursing the master of the house who laughed at his fall.

As my brother went out of the house, two blind men, his companions, were going by, knew him by his voice, and asked him what was the matter?  He told them what had happened; and afterwards said, “I have eaten nothing to-day; I conjure you to go along with me to my house, that I may take some of the money that we three have in common to buy me something for supper.”  The two blind men agreed, and they went home with him.

You must know that the master of the house where my brother was so ill used was a robber, and of a cunning and malicious disposition.  He overheard from his window what Backbac had said to his companions, and came down and followed them to my brother’s house.  The blind men being seated, Backbac said to them, “Brothers, we must shut the door, and take care there be no stranger with us.”  At this the robber was much perplexed, but perceiving a rope hanging down from a beam, he caught hold of it, and hung by it, while the blind men shut the door, and felt about the room with their sticks.  When they had done, and had sat down again in their places, the robber left his rope, and seated himself softly by my brother, who thinking himself alone with his blind comrades, said to them, “Brothers, since you have trusted me with the money, which we have been a long time gathering, I will show you that I am not unworthy of the confidence you repose in me.  The last time we reckoned, you know we had ten thousand dirhems, and that we put them into ten bags; I will shew you that I have not touched one of them:”  having so said, he put his hand among some old clothes, and taking out the bags one after another, gave them to his comrades, saying, “There they are; you may judge by their weight that they are whole, or you may tell them if you please.”  His comrades answered there was no need, they did not mistrust him; so he opened one of the bags, and took out ten dirhems, and each of the other blind men did the like.

My brother put the bags into their place again:  after which, one of the blind men said to him, “There is no need to lay out anything for supper, for I have collected as much victuals from good people as will serve us all.”  At the same time he took out of his bag bread and cheese, and some fruit, and putting all upon the table, they began to eat, The robber, who sat at my brother’s right hand, picked out the best, and eat with them; but whatever care he took to make no noise, Backbac heard his chaps going, and cried out immediately, “We are undone, there is a stranger among us:”  having so said, he stretched out his hand, and caught hold of the robber by the arm, cried out “Thieves!” fell upon him, and struck him.  The other blind men fell upon him in like manner; the robber defended himself as well as he could, and being young and vigorous, besides having the advantage of his eyes, gave furious blows, sometimes to one, sometimes to another, and cried out “Thieves!” louder than they did.  The neighbours came running at the noise, broke open the door, and had much ado to separate the combatants; but having at last succeeded, they asked the cause of their quarrel.  My brother, who still had hold of the robber, cried out, “Gentlemen, this man I have hold of is a thief, and stole in with us on purpose to rob us of the little money we have.”  The thief, who shut his eyes as soon as the neighbours came, feigned himself blind, and exclaimed, “Gentlemen, he is a liar.  I swear to you by heaven, and by the life of the caliph, that I am their companion, and they refuse to give me my just share.  They have all three fallen upon me, and I demand justice.”  The neighbours would not interfere in their quarrel, but carried them all before the judge.

When they came before the magistrate, the robber, without staying to be examined, cried out, still feigning himself blind, “Sir, since you are deputed to administer justice by the caliph, whom God prosper, I declare to you that we are equally criminal, my three comrades and I; but we have all engaged, upon oath, to confess nothing except we be bastinadoed; so that if you would know our crime, you need only order us to be bastinadoed, and begin with me.”  My brother would have spoken, but was not allowed to do so:  and the robber was put under the bastinado.

The robber being under the bastinado, had the courage to bear twenty or thirty blows; when, pretended to be overcome with pain, he first opened one eve, and then the other, and crying out for mercy, begged the judge would put a stop to the blows.  The judge perceiving that he looked upon him with his eyes open, was much surprised, and said to him, “Rogue, what is the meaning of this miracle?” “Sir,” replied the robber, “I will discover to you an important secret, if you will pardon me, and give me, as a pledge that you will keep your word, the seal-ring which you have on your finger.”  The judge consented, gave him his ring, and promised him pardon.  “Under this promise,” continued the robber, “I must confess to you sir, that I and my three comrades do all of us see very well.  We feigned ourselves to be blind, that we might freely enter people’s houses, and women’s apartments, where we abuse their weakness.  I must farther confess to you, that by this trick we have gained together ten thousand dirhems.  This day I demanded of my partners two thousand five hundred that belonged to my share, but they refused because I told them I would leave them; and they were afraid I should accuse them.  Upon my pressing still to have my share, they fell upon me; for which I appeal to those people who brought us before you.  I expect from your justice, sir, that you will make them deliver me the two thousand five hundred dirhems which is my due; and if you have a mind that my comrades should confess the truth, you must order them three times as many blows as I have had, and you will find they will open their eyes as well as I have done.”

My brother and the other two blind men would have cleared themselves of this horrid charge, but the judge would not hear them:  “Villains,” said he, “do you feign yourselves blind then, and, under that pretext of moving their compassion, cheat people, and commit such crimes?” “He is an impostor,” cried my brother, “and we take God to witness that none of us can see.”

All that my brother could say was in vain, his comrades and he received each of them two hundred blows.  The judge expected them to open their eyes, and ascribed to their obstinacy what really they could not do.  All the while the robber said to the blind men, “Poor fools that you are, open your eyes, and do not suffer yourselves to be beaten to death.”  Then addressing himself to the judge, said, “I perceive, sir, that they will be maliciously obstinate to the last, and will never open their eyes.  They wish certainly to avoid the shame of reading their own condemnation in the face of every one that looks upon them; it were better, if you think fit, to pardon them, and to send some person along with me for the ten thousand dirhems they have hidden.”

The judge consented to give the robber two thousand five hundred dirhems, and kept the rest himself; and as for my brother and his two companions, he thought he shewed them pity by sentencing them only to be banished.  As soon as I heard what had befallen my brother, I went to him; he told me his misfortune, and I brought him back secretly to the town.  I could easily have justified him to the judge, and have had the robber punished as he deserved, but durst not make the attempt, for fear of bringing myself into danger of assassination.  Thus I finished the sad adventure of my honest blind brother.  The caliph laughed at it, as much as at those he had heard before, and ordered again that something should be given me; but without staying for it, I began the story of my fourth brother.

The Story of the Barber’s Fourth Brother.

Alcouz was the name of the fourth brother who lost one of his eyes, upon an occasion that I shall have the honour to relate to your majesty.  He was a butcher by profession, and had a particular way of teaching rams to fight, by which he gained the acquaintance and friendship of the chief lords of the country, who loved that sport, and for that end kept rams at their houses.  He had besides a very good trade, and had his shop always full of the best meat, because he spared no cost for the prime of every sort.  One day when he was in his shop, an old man with a long white beard came and bought six pounds of meat of him, gave him money for it, and went his way.  My brother thought the money so pure and well coined, that he put it apart by itself:  the same old man came every day for five months together, bought a like quantity of meat, and paid for it in the same kind of money, which my brother continued to lay apart.

At the end of five months, Alcouz having a mind to buy a lot of sheep, and to pay for them in this money, opened his chest; but instead of finding his money, was extremely surprised to see nothing in the place where he had laid it, but a parcel of leaves clipped round.  He beat his head, and cried out aloud, which presently brought the neighbours about him, who were as much surprised as he, when he told them the story.  “O!” cried my brother, weeping, “that this treacherous old fellow would come now with his hypocritical looks!” He had scarcely spoken, when he saw him at a distance; he ran to him, and laid hands on him; “Moosulmauns,” cried he, as loud as he could, “help! hear what a cheat this wicked fellow has put upon me,” and at the same time told a great crowd of people, who came about him, what he had formerly told his neighbours.  When he had done, the old man said to him very gravely and calmly, “You had better let me go, and by that means make amends for the affront you have put upon me before so many people, for fear I should put a greater affront upon you, which I should be sorry to do.”  “How,” said my brother, “what have you to say against me?  I am an honest man in my business, and fear not you, nor any body.”  “You would have me speak out then,” resumed the old man in the same tone; and turning to the crowd, said to them, “Know, good people, that this fellow, instead of selling mutton as he ought to do, sells human flesh.”  “You are a cheat,” said my brother.  “No, no,” continued the old man; “good people, this very minute while I am speaking to him, there is a man with his throat cut hung up in the shop like a sheep; do any of you go thither, and see if what I say be not true.”

Just before my brother had opened his chest he had killed a sheep, dressed it, and exposed it in the shop, according to custom:  he protested that what the old man said was false; but notwithstanding all his protestations, the credulous mob, prejudiced against a man accused of such a heinous crime, would go to see whether the charge were true.  They obliged my brother to quit the old man, laid hold of him, and ran like madmen into his shop, where they saw, to all appearance, a man hung up with his throat cut, as the old man had told them; for he was a magician, and deceived the eyes of all people, as he did my brother, when he made him take leaves instead of money.  At this sight, one of those who held Alcouz gave him a violent blow with his fist, and said to him, “Thou wicked villain, dost thou make us eat man’s flesh instead of mutton?” And at the same time the old man gave him another blow, which beat out one of his eyes.  Every body that could get near him struck him; and not content with that, they carried him before a judge, with the pretended carcase of the man, to be evidence against him.  “Sir,” said the old magician to the judge, “we have brought you a man, who is so barbarous as to murder people, and to sell their flesh instead of mutton.  The public expects that you will punish him in an exemplary manner.”  The judge heard my brother with patience, but would believe nothing of the story of the money changed into leaves, called my brother a cheat, told him he would believe his own eyes, and ordered him to receive five hundred blows.  He afterwards made him tell him where his money was, took it all from him, and banished him for ever, after having made him ride three days through the city upon a camel, exposed to the insults of the people.

I was not at Bagdad when this tragical adventure befell my fourth brother.  He retired into a remote place, where he lay concealed till he was cured of the blows with which his back was terribly mangled.  When he was able to walk, he went by night to a certain town where nobody knew him; and there he took a lodging, from whence he seldom moved; but being weary of this confined life, he went to walk in one of the suburbs, where suddenly he heard a noise of horsemen coming behind him.  He was then by chance near the gate of a house, and fearing, after what had befallen him, that these horsemen were pursuing him, he opened the gate in order to hide himself, and after he had shut it, entered a court, where immediately two servants came and collared him, saying, “Heaven be praised, that you have come of your own accord to surrender yourself; you have alarmed us so much these three last nights, that we could not sleep; nor would you have spared our lives, if we had not prevented your design.”  You may well imagine my brother was much surprised.  “Good people,” said he, “I know not what you mean; you certainly take me for somebody else.”  “No, no,” replied they, “we know that you and your comrades are robbers:  you were not contented to rob our master of all that he had, and to reduce him to beggary, but you conspired to take his life.  Let us see if you have not a knife about you, which you had in your hand when you pursued us last night.”  Having said thus, they searched him, and found he had a knife.  “Ho! ho!” cried they, laying hold of him, “and dare you say that you are not a robber?” “Why,” said my brother, “cannot a man carry a knife about him without being a robber?  If you will hearken to my story, instead of having so bad an opinion of me, you will be touched with compassion at my misfortunes.”  But far from attending to him, they fell upon him, trod upon him, took away his clothes, and tore his shirt.  Then seeing the scars on his back, “O dog,” said they, redoubling their blows, “would you have us believe you are an honest man, when your back shews us the contrary?” “Alas!” said my brother, “my crimes must be very great, since, after having been abused already so unjustly, I am thus treated a second time without being more culpable!”

The two servants, no way moved with his complaint, carried him before the judge, who asked him how he durst presume to go into their house, and pursue them with a drawn knife?  “Sir,” replied the unfortunate Alcouz, “I am the most innocent man in the world, and am undone if you will not be pleased to hear me patiently:  no one deserves more compassion.”  “Sir,” exclaimed one of the domestics, “will you listen to a robber, who enters people’s houses to plunder and murder them?  If you will not believe us, only look upon his back;” and while he said so he uncovered my brother’s back, and shewed it to the judge, who, without any other information, commanded his officers immediately to give him a hundred lashes over the shoulders, and made him afterwards be carried through the town on a camel, with one crying before him, “Thus are men punished who enter people’s houses by force.”  After having treated him thus, they banished him the town, and forbad him ever to return.  Some people, who met him after the second misfortune, brought me word where he was; I went, brought him to Bagdad privately, and gave him all the assistance I could.  The caliph did not laugh so much at this story as at the other.  He was pleased to pity the unfortunate Alcouz, and ordered something to be given me.  But without giving his servants time to obey his orders, I continued my discourse, and said to him:  “My sovereign lord and master, you see that I do not talk much; and since your majesty has been pleased to do me the favour to listen to me so far, I beg you would likewise hear the adventures of my two other brothers; I hope they will be as diverting as those of the former.  You may make a complete history of them, that will not be unworthy of your library:  I shall do myself the honour then to acquaint you, that the fifth brother was called Alnaschar.”

The Story of the Barber’s Fifth Brother.

Alnaschar, as long as our father lived, was very lazy; instead of working he used to beg in the evening, and live upon what he got.  Our father died at a very old age, and left among us seven hundred dirhems:  we divided equally, so that each of us had a hundred for his share.  Alnaschar, who had never before possessed so much money, was much perplexed to know what he should do with it.  He consulted a long time with himself, and at last resolved to lay it out in glass-ware which he bought of a wholesale dealer.  He put all in an open basket, and sat with it before him, and his back against a wall, in a place where he might sell it.  In this posture, with his eyes fixed on his basket, he began to meditate; during which he spoke as follows:  “This basket cost me a hundred dirhems, which is all I have in the world.  I shall make two hundred of them by retailing my glass, and of these two hundred, which I will again lay out in glass-ware, I shall make four hundred; and going on thus, I shall at last make four thousand dirhems; of four thousand I shall easily make eight thousand, and when I come to ten thousand, I will leave off selling glass and turn jeweller; I will trade in diamonds, pearls, and all sorts of precious stones:  then when I am as rich as I can wish, I will buy a fine mansion, a great estate, slaves, eunuchs, and horses.  I will keep a good house, and make a great figure in the world; I will send for all the musicians and dancers of both sexes in town.  Nor will I stop here, for, I will, by the favour of Heaven, go on till I get one hundred thousand dirhems, and when I have amassed so much, I will send to demand the grand vizier’s daughter in marriage; and represent to that minister, that I have heard much of the wonderful beauty, understanding, wit, and all the other qualities of his daughter; in a word, that I will give him a thousand pieces of gold the first night after we are married; and if the vizier be so uncivil as to refuse his daughter, which cannot be supposed, I will go and carry her off before his face, and take her to my house whether he will or no.  As soon as I have married the grand vizier’s daughter, I will buy her ten young black eunuchs, the handsomest that can be had; I will clothe my self like a prince, and mounted upon a fine horse, with a saddle of fine gold, with housings of cloth of gold, finely embroidered with diamonds and pearls, I will ride through the city, attended by slaves before and behind.  I will go to the vizier’s palace in view of all the people great and small, who will show me the most profound respect.  When I alight at the foot of the vizier’s staircase, I will ascend through my own people, ranged in files on the right and left; and the grand vizier, receiving me as his son-in-law, shall give me the right hand and set me above him, to do me the more honour.  If this comes to pass, as I hope it will, two of my people shall each of them have a purse with a thousand pieces of gold, which they shall carry with them.  I will take one, and presenting it to the grand vizier, tell him, ’There is the thousand pieces of gold that I promised the first night of marriage:’  and I will offer him the other and say to him, ’There is as much more, to shew you that I am a man of my word, and even better than my promise.’  After such an action as this, all the world will talk of my generosity.  I will return to my own house in the same pomp.  My wife will send some officer to compliment me, on account of my visit to the vizier, her father:  I will honour the officer with a fine robe, and send him back with a rich present.  If she send me a present, I will not accept it, but dismiss the bearer.  I will not suffer her to go out of her apartment on any account whatever, without giving me notice:  and when I have a mind to come to her apartment, it shall be in such a manner as to make her respect me.  In short, no house shall be better ordered than mine.  I will be always richly clad.  When I retire with my wife in the evening, I will sit on the upper seat, I will affect a grave air, without turning my head to one side or the other.  I will speak little; and whilst my wife, beautiful as the full moon, stands before me in all her charms, I will make as if I did not see her.  Her women about her will say to me, ’Our dear lord and master, here is your spouse, your humble servant, before you, ready to receive your caresses, but much mortified that you do not vouchsafe to look upon her; she is wearied with standing so long, bid her, at least, sit down.’  I will make no answer, which will increase their surprise and grief.  They will prostrate themselves at my feet; and after they have for a considerable time entreated me to relent, I will at last lift up my head, give her a careless look, and resume my former posture:  they will suppose that my wife is not handsomely enough dressed, and will carry her to her closet to change her apparel.  At the same time I will get up and put on a more magnificent suit; they will return and address me as before, but I will not so much as look upon my wife, till they have prayed and entreated as long as they did at first.  Thus I will begin on the first day of marriage, to teach her what she is to expect during the rest of her life.

“After the ceremonies of the marriage, I will take from one of my servants, who shall be about me, a purse of five hundred pieces of gold, which I will give to the tire-women, that they may leave me alone with my spouse:  when they are gone, my wife shall go to bed first; then I will lie down by her with my back towards her, and will not say one wore to her all night.  The next morning she will certainly complain of my contempt and of my pride, to her mother the grand vizier’s wife, which will rejoice my heart.  Her mother will come to wait upon me, respectfully kiss my hands, and say to me, ‘Sir’ (for she will not dare to call me son-in-law, for fear of provoking me by such a familiar style), ’I entreat you not to disdain to look on my daughter, and refuse to come near her.  I assure you that her chief delight is to please you, and that she loves you with all her soul.’  But in spite of all my mother-in-law can say, I will not answer her one word, but keep an obstinate gravity.  Then she will throw herself at my feet, kiss them repeatedly, and say to me, ’Sir, is it possible that you can suspect my daughter’s virtue?  You are the first man who ever saw her face:  do not mortify her so much; do her the favour to look upon her, to speak to her, and confirm her in her good intentions to satisfy you in every thing.’  But nothing of this shall prevail with me.  Upon which my mother-in-law will take a glass of wine, and putting it in the hand of her daughter my wife, will say, ’Go, present him this glass of wine yourself; perhaps he will not be so cruel as to refuse it from so fair a hand.’  My wife will come with the glass and stand trembling before me; and when she finds that I do not look towards her, but that I continue to disdain her, she will say to me with tears in her eyes, ’My heart, my dear soul, my amiable lord, I conjure you, by the favours which heaven heaps upon you, to receive this glass of wine from the hand of your most humble servant:’  but I will not look upon her still, nor answer her.  ’My charming spouse,’ will she say, redoubling her tears, and putting the glass to my mouth, ’I will never cease till I prevail with you to drink;’ then, wearied with her entreaties, I will dart a terrible look at her, shake my hand in her face, and spurn her from me with my foot.”

My brother was so full of these chimerical visions, that he acted with his foot as if she had been really before him, and unfortunately gave such a push to his basket and glasses, that they were thrown down, and broken into a thousand pieces.

On this fatal accident, he came to himself, and perceiving that he had brought misfortune upon himself by his insupportable pride, beat his face, tore his clothes, and cried so loud, that the neighbours came about him; and the people, who were going to their noon prayers, stopped to know what was the matter.  Being on a Friday, more people went to prayers than usual; some of them took pity on Alnaschar, and others only laughed at his extravagance.  In the mean time, his vanity being dispersed with his property, he bitterly bewailed his loss; and a lady of rank passing by upon a mule richly caparisoned, my brother’s situation moved her compassion.  She asked who he was, and what he cried for?  They told her, that he was a poor man, who had laid out the little money he possessed in the purchase of a basket of glassware, that the basket had fallen, and all his glasses were broken.  The lady immediately turned to an eunuch who attended her, and said to him, “Give the poor man what you have about you.”  The eunuch obeyed, and put into my brother’s hands a purse with five hundred pieces of gold.  Alnaschar was ready to die with joy when he received it.  He gave a thousand blessings to the lady, and shutting up his shop, where he had no more occasion to sit, went to his house.

While he was pondering over his good luck, he heard somebody knock at his door.  Before he opened, he asked who it was, and knowing by the voice that it was a woman, he let her in.  “My son,” said she, “I have a favour to beg of you:  the hour of prayer is come, let me perform my ablutions in your house, that I may be fit to say my prayers.”  My brother looking at her, and seeing that she was well advanced in years, though he knew her not, granted her request, and sat down again still full of his new adventure.  He put his gold in a long strait purse, proper to carry at his girdle.  The old woman in the mean time said her prayers, and when she had done, came to my brother and bowed twice to the ground, so low, that she touched it with her forehead:  then rising up, she wished him all happiness.

The old woman then bowed again, and thanked him for his civility.  Being meanly clad, and very humble, he thought she asked alms; upon which he offered her two pieces of gold.  The old woman stepped back in a sort of surprise, as if my brother had affronted her.  “Good God!” said she, “what is the meaning of this?  Is it possible, sir, that you took me for one of those impudent beggars who push into people’s houses to ask alms?  Take back your money:  thank heaven, I need it not.  I belong to a young lady of this city, who is a perfect beauty, and very rich; she lets me want for nothing.”

My brother was not cunning enough to perceive the craft of the old woman, who only refused the two pieces of gold, that she might catch more.  He asked her, if she could not procure him the honour of seeing that lady.  “With all my heart,” she replied; “she will be very glad to marry you, and to put you in possession of her fortune, by making you master of her person.  Take up your money, and follow me.”  My brother, transported with his good luck in finding so great a sum of money, and almost at the same time a beautiful and rich wife, shut his eyes to all other considerations; so that he took his five hundred pieces of gold, and followed the old woman.  She walked on, and he followed at a distance, to the gate of a great house, where she knocked.  He came up just as a young Greek slave opened the gate.  The old woman made him enter first, crossed a well-paved court, and introduced him into a hall, the furniture of which confirmed him in the good opinion he had conceived of the mistress of the house.  While the old woman went to acquaint the lady, he sat down, and the weather being hot, put off his turban, and laid it by him.  He speedily saw the young lady enter:  her beauty and rich apparel perfectly surprised him; he arose as soon as he saw her.  The lady, with a smiling countenance, prayed him to sit down again, and placed herself by him.  She told him, she was very glad to see him; and after having spoken some engaging words, said, “We do not sit here at our ease.  Come, give me your hand.”  At these words she presented him hers, and conducted him into an inner chamber, where she conversed with him for some time:  she then left him, saying that she would be with him in a moment.  He waited for her; but instead of the lady came in a great black slave with a cimeter in his hand, and looking upon my brother with a terrible aspect, said to him fiercely, “What have you to do here?” Alnaschar was so frightened, that he had no power to answer.  The black stripped him, carried off his gold, and gave him several flesh wounds with his cimeter.  My unhappy brother fell to the ground, where he lay without motion, though he had still the use of his senses.  The black thinking him to be dead, asked for salt:  the Greek slave brought him a basin full:  they rubbed my brother’s wounds with it, but he had so much command of himself, notwithstanding the intolerable pain it put him to, that he lay still without giving any sign of life.  The black and the Greek slave having retired, the old woman, who had enticed my brother into the snare, came and dragged him by the feet to a trapdoor, which she opened, and threw him into a place under ground, among the bodies of several other people who had been murdered.  He perceived this as soon as he came to himself, for the violence of the fall had taken away his senses.  The salt rubbed into his wounds preserved his life, and he recovered strength by degrees, so as to be able to walk.  After two days he opened the trap-door in the night, and finding in the court a place proper to hide himself in, continued there till break of day, when he saw the cursed old woman open the street gate, and go out to seek another victim.  He stayed in the place some time after she was gone, that she might not see him, and then came to me for shelter, when he told me of his adventures.

In a month’s time he was perfectly cured of his wounds by medicines that I gave him, and resolved to avenge himself of the old woman, who had put such a barbarous cheat upon him.  To this end he took a bag, large enough to contain five hundred pieces of gold, and filled it with pieces of glass.

My brother fastened the bag of glass about him, disguised himself like an old woman, and took a cimeter under his gown.  One morning he met the old woman walking through the town to seek her prey; he went up to her, and counterfeiting a woman’s voice, said, “Cannot you lend me a pair of scales?  I am newly come from Persia, have brought five hundred pieces of gold with me, and would know if they are weight.”  “Good woman,” answered the old hag, “you could not have applied to a fitter person:  follow me, I will conduct you to my son, who changes money, and will weigh them himself to save you the trouble.  Let us make haste, for fear he should go to his shop.”  My brother followed her to the house where she carried him at first, and the Greek slave opened the door.

The old woman took my brother to the hall where she desired him to wait till she called her son.  The pretended son came, and proved to be the villainous black slave.  “Come, old woman,” said he to my brother, “rise and follow me:”  having spoken thus, he went before to conduct him to the place where he designed to murder him.  Alnaschar got up, followed him, and drawing his cimeter, gave him such a dexterous blow behind on the neck, that he cut off his head, which he took in one hand, and dragging the corpse with the other, threw them both into the place under ground before-mentioned.  The Greek slave, who was accustomed to the trade, came presently with a basin of salt; but when she saw Alnaschar with his cimeter in his hand, and without his veil, she laid down the basin, and fled.  But my brother overtaking her, cut off her head also.  The wicked old woman came running at the noise, and my brother seizing her, said to her, “Treacherous wretch, do not you know me?” “Alas, Sir!” answered she trembling, “who are you?  I do not remember that I ever saw you.”  “I am,” replied he, “the person to whose house you came the other day to wash and say your prayers.  Hypocritical hag, do not you remember?” Then she fell on her knees to beg his pardon, but he cut her in four pieces.

There remained only the lady, who knew nothing of what had passed:  he sought her out, and found her in a chamber, where she was ready to sink when she saw him:  she begged her life, which he generously granted.  “Madam,” said he, “how could you live with such wicked people, as I have so justly revenged myself upon?” “I was,” she answered, “wife to an honest merchant; and the old woman, whose wickedness I did not then know, used sometimes to come to see me; ‘Madam,’ said she to me one day, ’we have a wedding at our house, which you will be pleased to see, if you will give us the honour of your company:’  I was persuaded by her, put on my best apparel, and took with me a hundred pieces of gold.  I followed her; she brought me to this house, where the black has since kept me by force, and I have been three years here to my great sorrow.”  “By the trade which that cursed black followed,” replied my brother, “he must have gathered together a vast deal of riches.”  “There is so much,” said she “that you will be made for ever, if you can carry them off:  follow me, and you shall see them.”  Alnaschar followed her to a chamber, where she shewed him several coffers full of gold, which he beheld with admiration.  “Go,” said she, “and fetch people to carry it all off.”  My brother went out, got ten men together, and brought them with him, but was much surprised to find the gate open, the lady and the coffers gone, for she being more diligent than he, had conveyed them all off and disappeared.  However, being resolved not to return empty-handed, he carried off all the furniture of the house, which was a great deal more than enough to make up the five hundred pieces of gold he had been robbed of; but when he went out of the house, he forgot to shut the gate.  The neighbours, who saw my brother and the porters come and go, went and acquainted the magistrate, for they looked upon my brother’s conduct as suspicious.  Alnaschar slept well enough all night, but the next morning, when he came out of his house, twenty of the magistrate’s men seized him.  “Come along with us,” said they, “our master would speak with you.”  My brother prayed them to have patience for a moment, and offered them a sum of money to let him escape; but instead of listening to him, they bound him, and forced him to go with them.  They met in the street an old acquaintance of my brother’s, who stopped them awhile, asked them why they had seized my brother, offered them a considerable sum to let him escape, and tell the magistrate they could not find him, but in vain.

When the officers brought him before the magistrate, he asked him where he had the goods which he had carried home the preceding evening?  “Sir,” replied Alnaschar, “I am ready to tell you all the truth; but allow me first to have recourse to your clemency, and to beg your promise, that I shall not be punished.”  “I give it you,” said the magistrate.  My brother then told him the whole story without disguise, from the period the old woman came into his house to say her prayers, to the time the lady made her escape, after he had killed the black, the Greek slave, and the old woman:  and as for what he had carried to his house, he prayed the judge to leave him part of it, for the five hundred pieces of gold of which he had been robbed.

The judge, without promising any thing, sent his officers to bring off the whole, and having put the goods into his own warehouse, commanded my brother to quit the town immediately, and never to return, for he was afraid, if he had stayed in the city, he would have found some way to represent this injustice to the caliph.  In the mean time, Alnaschar obeyed without murmuring, and left that town to go to another.  By the way, he met with highwaymen, who stripped him naked; and when the ill news was brought to me, I carried him a suit, and brought him secretly into the town, where I took the like care of him as I did of his other brothers.

The Story of the Barber’s Sixth Brother.

I have now only to relate the story of my sixth brother, called Schacabac, with the hare lips.  At first he was industrious enough to improve the hundred dirhems of silver which fell to his share, and went on very well; but a reverse of fortune brought him to beg his bread, which he did with a great deal of dexterity.  He studied chiefly to get into great men’s houses by means of their servants and officers, that he might have access to their masters, and obtain their charity.  One day as he passed by a magnificent house, whose high gate shewed a very spacious court, where there was a multitude of servants, he went to one of them, and asked him to whom that house belonged?  “Good man,” replied the servant, “whence do you come that you ask me such a question?  Does not all that you behold point out to you that it is the palace of a Barmecide?” My brother, who very well knew the liberality and generosity of the Barmecides, addressed himself to one of his porters (for he had more than one), and prayed him to give him alms.  “Go in,” said he, “nobody hinders you, and address yourself to the master of the house; he will send you back satisfied.”

My brother, who expected no such civility, thanked the porters, and with their permission entered the palace, which was so large, that it took him a considerable time to reach the Barmecide’s apartment; at last he came to an arcade square building of an excellent architecture, and entered by parterres of flowers intersected by walks of several colours, extremely pleasant to the eye:  the lower apartments round this square were most of them open, and were shut only with great curtains to keep out the sun, which were opened again when the heat was over to let in the fresh air.

Such an agreeable place would have struck my brother with admiration, even if his mind had been more at ease than it was.  He went on till he came into a hall richly furnished and adorned with painting of gold and azure foliage, where he saw a venerable man with a long white beard, sitting at the upper end on a sofa, whence he concluded him to be the master of the house; and in fact it was the Barmecide himself, who said to my brother in a very civil manner, that he was welcome; and asked him what he wanted?  “My lord,” answered my brother, in a begging tone, “I am a poor man who stands in need of the help of such rich and generous persons as yourself.”  He could not have addressed himself to a fitter person than this lord, who had a thousand good qualities.

The Barmecide seemed to be astonished at my brother’s answer, and putting both his hands to his stomach, as if he would rend his clothes for grief, “Is it possible,” cried he, “that I am at Bagdad, and that such a man as you is so poor as you say? this is what must never be.”  My brother, fancying that he was going to give him some singular mark of his bounty, blessed him a thousand times, and wished him all happiness.  “It shall not be said,” replied the Barmecide, “that I will abandon you, nor will I have you leave me.”  “Sir,” replied my brother, “I swear to you I have not eaten one bit to-day.”  “Is it true,” demanded the Barmecide, “that you are fasting till now?  Alas, poor man! he is ready to die for hunger.  Ho, boy,” cried he, with a loud voice, “bring a basin and water presently, that we may wash our hands.”  Though no boy appeared, and my brother saw neither water nor basin, the Barmecide fell to rubbing his hands as if one had poured water upon them, and bade my brother come and wash with him.  Schacabac judged by this, that the Barmecide lord loved to be merry, and he himself understanding raillery, and knowing that the poor must be complaisant to the rich, if they would have any thing from them, came forward and did as he was required.

“Come on,” said the Barmecide, “bring us something to eat, and do not let us wait.”  When he had spoken, though nothing appeared, he began to cut as if something had been brought him upon a plate, and putting his hand to his mouth began to chew, and said to my brother, “Come, friend, eat as freely as if you were at home; come, eat; you said you were like to die of hunger, but you eat as if you had no appetite.”  “Pardon me, my lord,” said Schacabac, who perfectly imitated what he did, “you see I lose no time, and that I play my part well enough.”  “How like you this bread,” said the Barmecide; “do not you find it very good?” “O! my lord,” replied my brother, who saw neither bread nor meat, “I have never eaten anything so white and so fine.”  “Eat your belly-full,” said the Barmecide; “I assure you the woman who bakes me this good bread cost me five hundred pieces of gold to purchase her.”

The Barmecide, after having boasted so much of his bread, which my brother ate only in idea, cried, “Boy, bring us another dish:”  and though no boy appeared, “Come, my good friend,” continued he, “taste this new dish; and tell me if ever you ate better mutton and barley-broth than this.”  “It is admirably good,” replied my brother, “and therefore you see I eat heartily.”  “You oblige me highly,” resumed the Barmecide; “I conjure you then, by the satisfaction I have to see you eat so heartily, that you eat all up, since you like it so well.”  A little while after he called for a goose and sweet sauce, made up of vinegar, honey, dry raisins, grey peas, and dry figs, which were brought just in the same manner as the others had.  “The goose is very fat,” said the Barmecide, “eat only a leg and a wing; we must save our stomachs, for we have abundance of other dishes to come.”  He actually called for several others, of which my brother, who was ready to die of hunger, pretended to eat; but what he boasted of more than all the rest was a lamb fed with pistachio nuts, which he ordered to be brought up in the same manner.  “Here is a dish,” said the Barmecide “that you will see at nobody’s table but my own; I would have you eat your belly-full of it.”  Having spoken thus, he stretched out his hand as if he had had a piece of lamb in it, and putting it to my brother’s mouth, “There,” said he, “swallow that, and you will judge whether I had not reason to boast of this dish.”  My brother thrust out his head, opened his mouth, and made as if he took the piece of lamb, and eat it with extreme pleasure.  “I knew you would like it,” said the Barmecide.  “There is nothing in the world finer,” replied my brother; “your table is most delicious.”  “Come, bring the ragout; I fancy you will like that as well as you did the lamb:  Well, how do you relish it?” “O! it is wonderful,” replied Schacabac; “for here we taste all at once, amber, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, pepper, and the most odoriferous herbs, and all these delicacies are so well mixed, that one does not prevent our tasting the other.”  “How pleasant!  Honour this ragout,” said the Barmecide, “by eating heartily of it.  Ho, boy, bring us another ragout.”  “No, my lord, if it please you,” replied my brother, “for indeed I can eat no more.”

“Come, take away then,” said the Barmecide, “and bring the fruit.”  He stayed a moment as it were to give time for his servants to carry away; after which, he addressed my brother, “Taste these almonds, they are good and fresh gathered.”  Both of them made as if they had peeled the almonds, and eaten them; after this, the Barmecide invited my brother to eat something else.  “Look,” said he, “there are all sorts of fruits, cakes, dry sweetmeats, and conserves, take what you like;” then stretching out his hand, as if he had reached my brother something, “Look,” he continued, “there is a lozenge, very good for digestion.”  Schacabac made as if he ate it, and said, “My lord, there is no want of musk here.”  “These lozenges,” replied the Barmecide, “are made at my own house, where nothing is wanting to make every article good.”  He still bade my brother eat, and said to him, “Methinks you do not eat as if you had been so hungry as you complained you were when you came in.”  “My lord,” replied Schacabac, whose jaws ached with moving and having nothing to eat, “I assure you I am so full that I cannot eat one bit more.”

“Well, then, friend,” resumed the Barmecide, “we must drink now, after we have eaten so well.”  “You may drink wine, my lord,” replied my brother, “but I will drink none if you please, because I am forbidden.”  “You are too scrupulous,” rejoined the Barmecide; “do as I do.”  “I will drink then out of complaisance,” said Schacabac, “for I see you will have nothing wanting to make your treat complete; but since I am not accustomed to drink wine, I am afraid I shall commit some error in point of good breeding, and contrary to the respect that is due to you; therefore I pray you, once more, to excuse me from drinking any wine; I will be content with water.”  “No, no,” said the Barmecide, “you shall drink wine,” and at the same time he commanded some to be brought, in the same manner as the meat and fruit had been served before.  He made as if he poured out wine, and drank first himself, and then pouring out for my brother, presented him the glass, saying, “Drink my health, and let us know if you think this wine good.”  My brother made as if he took the glass, and looked as if the colour was good, and put it to his nose to try the flavour:  he then made a low salute to the Barmecide, to signify that he took the liberty to drink his health, and lastly he appeared to drink with all the signs of a man that drinks with pleasure:  “My lord,” said he, “this is very excellent wine, but I think it is not strong enough.”  “If you would have stronger,” answered the Barmecide, “you need only speak, for I have several sorts in my cellar.  Try how you like this.”  Upon which he made as if he poured out another glass for himself, and one for my brother; and did this so often, that Schacabac, feigning to be intoxicated with the wine, and acting a drunken man, lifted up his hand, and gave the Barmecide such a box on the ear as made him fall down.  He was going to give him another blow, but the Barmecide holding up his hand to ward it off, cried, “Are you mad?” Then my brother, making as if he had come to himself again, said, “My lord, you have been so good as to admit your slave into your house, and give him a treat; you should have been satisfied with making me eat, and not have obliged me to drink wine; for I told you beforehand, that it might occasion me to fail in my respect for you.  I am very sorry for it, and beg you a thousand pardons.”

Scarcely had he finished these words, when the Barmecide, instead of being in a passion, fell a laughing with all his might.  “I have been long,” said he, “seeking a man of your character.”

The Barmecide caressed Schacabac mightily, and told him, “I not only forgive the blow you have given me, but I desire henceforward we should be friends, and that you take my house for your home:  you have had the complaisance to accommodate yourself to my humour, and the patience to keep the jest up to the last; we will now eat in good earnest.”  When he had finished these words, he clapped his hands, and commanded his servants, who then appeared, to cover the table; which was speedily done, and my brother was treated with all those dishes in reality, which he ate of before in fancy.  At last they cleared the table, and brought in the wine, and at the same time a number of handsome slaves, richly appareled, came and sung some agreeable airs to their musical instruments.  In a word, Schacabac had all the reason in the world to be satisfied with the Barmecide’s civility and bounty; for he treated him as his familiar friend, and ordered him a suit from his wardrobe.

The Barmecide found my brother to be a man of so much wit and understanding, that in a few days after he entrusted him with the care of his household and all his affairs.  My brother acquitted himself very well in that employment for twenty years; at the end of which the generous Barmecide died, and leaving no heirs, all his property was confiscated to the use of the prince; and my brother lost all he had acquired.  Being reduced to his first condition, he joined a caravan of pilgrims going to Mecca, designing to accomplish that pilgrimage by their charity; but unfortunately the caravan was attacked and plundered by a number of Bedouins, superior to that of the pilgrims.  My brother was then taken as a slave by one of the Bedouins, who put him under the bastinado for several days, to oblige him to ransom himself.  Schacabac protested that it was all in vain.  “I am your slave,” said he, “you may dispose of me as you please; but I declare to you that I am extremely poor, and not able to redeem myself.”  In a word, my brother discovered to him all his misfortunes, and endeavoured to soften him with tears; but the Bedouin was not to be moved, and being vexed to find himself disappointed of a considerable sum of which he reckoned himself sure, he took his knife and slit my brother’s lips, to avenge himself by this inhumanity for the loss that he thought he had sustained.

The Bedouin had a handsome wife, and frequently when he went on his excursions left my brother alone with her.  At such times she used all her endeavours to comfort my brother under the rigour of his slavery.  She gave him tokens enough that she loved him, but he durst not return her passion, for fear he should repent; and therefore avoided being alone with her, as much as she sought the opportunity to be alone with him.  She was so much in the habit of caressing and playing with the miserable Schacabac, whenever she saw him, that one day she happened to act in the same manner, in the presence of her husband.  My brother, without taking notice that he observed them (so his sins would have it), played likewise with her.  The Bedouin, immediately supposing that they lived together in a criminal manner, fell upon my brother in a rage, and after he had mutilated him in a barbarous manner, carried him on a camel to the top of a desert mountain, where he left him.  The mountain was on the road to Bagdad, so that the passengers who saw him there informed me where he was.  I went thither speedily, and found unfortunate Schacabac in a deplorable condition:  I gave him what help he stood in need of, and brought him back to the city.

This is what I told the caliph; that prince applauded me with new fits of laughter.  “Now,” said he, “I cannot doubt but they justly give you the surname of Silent.  No one can say the contrary for certain reasons, however, I command you to depart this town immediately, and let me hear no more of you.”  I yielded to necessity, and travelled for several years in distant countries.  Understanding at last that the caliph was dead, I returned to Bagdad, where I found not one of my brothers alive.  It was on my return to this city that I did the lame young man the important service which you have heard.  You are, however, witnesses of his ingratitude, and of the injurious manner in which he treated me; instead of testifying his obligation, he rather chose to fly from me and leave his own country.  When I understood that he was not at Bagdad, though no one could tell me whither he was gone, I determined to seek him.  I travelled from province to province a long time; and when I least expected, met him this day, but I little thought to find him so incensed against me.

When the barber had concluded his story, we found that the young man was not to blame for calling him a great chatterer.  However, he wished him to stay with us, and partake of the entertainment which the master of the house had prepared.  We sat down to table, and were merry together till afternoon prayers; when all the company parted, and I went to my shop, till it was time to return home.  It was during this interval that humpback came half drunk before my shop, where he sung and played on his tabor.  I thought that, by carrying him home with me, I should divert my wife, therefore I took him in:  my wife gave us a dish of fish, and I presented humpback with some, which he ate, without taking notice of a bone.  He fell down dead before us, and after having in vain essayed to help him, in the trouble and fear occasioned by such an unlucky accident, we carried the corpse out, and dexterously lodged him with the Jewish doctor.  The Jewish doctor put him into the chamber of the purveyor, and the purveyor carried him out into the street, where it was believed the merchant had killed him.  “This sir,” added the tailor, “is what I had to say to satisfy your majesty, who must pronounce whether we be worthy of mercy or wrath, life or death.”

The sultan of Casgar shewed a satisfaction in his countenance, which restored the tailor and his comrades to life.  “I cannot but acknowledge,” said he, “that I am more struck with the history of the young cripple, with that of the barber, and with the adventures of his brothers, than with the story of my jester:  but before I send you all away, and we proceed to bury humpback, I should like to see the barber who is the occasion of my pardoning you; since he is in my capital, it is easy to satisfy my curiosity.”  At the same time he sent an officer with the tailor to find him.

The officer and the tailor went immediately and brought the barber, whom they presented to the sultan:  the barber was a venerable man about ninety years of age; his eye-brows and beard were white as snow, his ears hanging down, and his nose very long.  The sultan could not forbear laughing when he saw him.  “Silent man,” said he to him, “I understand that you know wonderful stories, will you tell me some of them?”

“Sir,” answered the barber, “let us forbear the stories, if you please, at present.  I most humbly beg your majesty to permit me to ask what that Christian, that Jew, that Moosulmaun and that dead humpback, who ties on the ground, do here before your majesty?” The sultan smiled at the barber’s freedom, and replied, “Why do you ask?” “Sir,” replied the barber, “it concerns me to ask, that your majesty may know I am not so great a talker as some represent me, but a man justly called Silent.”

The sultan commanded them to tell him the story of the humpback, which he seemed earnestly to wish for.  When the barber heard it, he shook his head, as if he would say, there was something under this which he did not understand.  “Truly,” cried he, “this is a surprising story; but I wish to examine humpback a little nearer.”  He approached him, sat down on the ground, took his head between his knees, and after he had looked upon him steadfastly, fell into so great a fit of laughter, and had so little command of himself, that he fell backwards on the ground, without considering that he was before the sultan of Casgar.  As soon as he came to himself, “It is said,” cried he, “and not without reason, that no man dies without a cause.  If ever any history deserved to be written in letters of gold, it is that of this humpback.”

At this all the people looked on the barber as a buffoon, or an old dotard.  “Silent man,” said the sultan, “why do you laugh?” “Sir,” answered the barber, “I swear by your majesty’s benevolence, that humpback is not dead:  he is yet alive, and I shall be content to pass for a madman if I do not convince you this minute.”  So saying, he took a box wherein he had several medicines that he carried about him to use as occasion might require; and drew out a little phial of balsam, with which he rubbed humpback’s neck a long time; then he took out of his case a neat iron instrument, which he put betwixt his teeth, and after he had opened his mouth, he thrust down his throat a pair of small pincers, with which he took out a bit of fish and bone, which he shewed to all the people.  Immediately humpback sneezed, stretched forth his arms and feet, opened his eyes, and shewed several other signs of life.

The sultan of Casgar, and all who were witnesses of this operation, were less surprised to see humpback revive, after he had passed a whole night, and great part of a day, without giving any sign of life, than at the merit and capacity of the barber, who performed this; and notwithstanding all his faults, began to look upon him as a great physician.  The sultan, transported with joy and admiration, ordered the story of humpback to be written down, with that of the barber, that the memory of them might, as it deserved, be preserved for ever.  Nor did he stop here; but, that the tailor, Jewish doctor, purveyor, and Christian merchant might remember the adventure, which the accident of humpback had occasioned to them, with pleasure, he did not send them away till he had given each of them a very rich robe, with which he caused them to be clothed in his presence.  As for the barber, he honoured him with a great pension, and kept him near his person.

The History of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, and
Schemselnihar, Favourite of Caliph Maroon Al Rusheed.

In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at Bagdad a druggist, named Alboussan Ebn Thaher, a very rich handsome man.  He had more wit and politeness than people of his profession generally possess:  his integrity, sincerity, and good humour made him beloved and sought after by all sorts of people.  The caliph, who knew his merit, had entire confidence in him.  He held him in such high esteem, that he entrusted him to provide his favourite ladies with all the things they stood in need of.  He chose for them their clothes, furniture, and jewels, with admirable taste.

His good qualities, and the favour of the caliph, occasioned the sons of emirs, and other officers of the first rank, to be always about him:  his house was the rendezvous of all the nobility of the court Among the young lords that went daily to visit him, was one whom he took more notice of than the rest, and with whom he contrasted a particular friendship, called Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, originally of an ancient royal family of Persia.  This family had continued at Bagdad ever since the conquest of that kingdom.  Nature seemed to have taken pleasure in endowing this young prince with the rarest qualities of body and mind:  his face was so very beautiful, his shape so fine, his air so easy, and his physiognomy so engaging, that it was impossible to see him without immediately loving him.  When he spoke, he expressed himself in terms proper and well chosen, with a new and agreeable turn, and his voice charmed all that heard him:  he had besides so much wit and judgment, that he thought and spoke of all subjects with admirable exactness.  He was so reserved and modest, that he advanced nothing till after he had taken all possible care to avoid giving any ground of suspicion that he preferred his own opinion to that of others.

Being such a person as I have represented him, we need not wonder that Ebn Thaher distinguished him from all the other young noblemen of the court, most of whom had the vices which composed the opposites to his virtues.  One day, when the prince was with Ebn Thaher, there came a lady mounted on a piebald mule, in the midst of ten female slaves who accompanied her on foot, all very handsome, as far as could be judged by their air, and through their veils which covered their faces.  The lady had a girdle of a rose colour, four inches broad, embroidered with pearls and diamonds of an extraordinary bigness; and for beauty it was easy to perceive that she surpassed all her women, as far as the full moon does that of two days old.  She came to buy something, and as she wanted to speak to Ebn Thaher, entered his shop, which was very neat and spacious; and he received her with all the marks of the most profound respect, entreating her to sit down, and directing her to the most honourable place.

In the mean time, the prince of Persia, unwilling to lose such an opportunity of strewing his good breeding and gallantry, adjusted the cushion of cloth of gold, for the lady to lean on; after which he hastily retired, that she might sit down; and having saluted her, by kissing the carpet under her feet, rose and stood before her at the lower end of the sofa.  It being her custom to be free with Ebn Thaher, she lifted up her veil, and discovered to the prince of Persia such an extraordinary beauty as struck him to the heart.  On the other hand, the lady could not refrain from looking upon the prince, the sight of whom had made the same impressions upon her.  “My lord,” said she to him, with an obliging air, “pray sit down.”  The prince of Persia obeyed, and sat on the edge of the sofa.  He had his eyes constantly fixed upon her, and swallowed large draughts of the sweet poison of love.  She quickly perceived what passed in his heart, and this discovery served to inflame her the more towards him.  She arose, went to Ebn Thaher, and after she had whispered to him the cause of her coming, asked the name and country of the prince.  “Madam,” answered Ebn Thaher, “this young nobleman’s name is Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, and he is a prince of the blood royal of Persia.”

The lady was transported at hearing that the person she already loved so passionately was of so high a rank.  “Do you really mean,” said she, “that he is descended from the kings of Persia?” “Yes, madam,” replied Ebn Thaher, “the last kings of Persia were his ancestors, and since the conquest of that kingdom, the princes of his family have always made themselves very acceptable at the court of our caliphs.”  “You will oblige me much,” added she, “by making me acquainted with this young nobleman:  when I send this woman,” pointing to one of her slaves, “to give you notice to come and see me, pray bring him with you; I shall be glad to afford him the opportunity of seeing the magnificence of my house, that he may have it in his power to say, that avarice does not reign at Bagdad among persons of quality.  You know what I mean.”

Ebn Thaher was a man of too much penetration not to perceive the lady’s mind by these words:  “My princess, my queen,” replied he, “God preserve me from giving you any occasion of anger:  I shall always make it a law to obey your commands.”  At this answer, the lady bowed to Ebn Thaher, and took her leave; and after she had given a favorable look to the prince of Persia, she remounted her mule, and departed.

The prince of Persia was so deeply in love with the lady, that he looked after her as far as he could; and long after she was out of sight directed his eyes that way.  Ebn Thaher told him, that he remarked several persons observing him, and began to laugh to see him in this posture.  “Alas!” said the prince, “the world and you would pity me, if you knew that the beautiful lady, who is just gone from you, has carried with her the best part of me, and that the remaining part seeks for an opportunity to go after her.  Tell me, I conjure you,” added he, “what cruel lady is this, who forces people to love her, without giving them time to reflect?” “My lord,” answered Ebn Thaher, “this is the celebrated Schemselnihar, the principal favourite of the caliph, our master.”  “She is justly so called,” added the prince, “since she is more beautiful than the sun at noonday.”  “True,” replied Ebn Thaher; “therefore the commander of the faithful loves, or rather adores her.  He gave me express orders to furnish her with all that she asked for, and to anticipate her wishes as far as lies in my power.”

He spoke thus to hinder him from engaging in a passion which could not but prove unfortunate to him; but this served only to inflame it the more.  “I feared, charming Schemselnihar,” cried he, “I should not be allowed so much as to think of you; I perceive, however, that without hopes of being loved in return, I cannot forbear loving you; I will love you then, and bless my lot that I am the slave of an object fairer than the meridian sun.”

While the prince of Persia thus consecrated his heart to the fair Schemselnihar, this lady, as she went home, contrived how she might see, and have free converse with him.  She no sooner entered her palace, than she sent to Ebn Thaher the woman she had pointed out to him, and in whom she placed all her confidence, to tell him to come and see her without delay, and bring the prince of Persia with him.  The slave came to Ebn Thaher’s shop, while he was speaking to the prince, and endeavouring to dissuade him, by very strong arguments, from loving the caliph’s favourite.  When she saw them together, “Gentlemen,” said she, “my honourable mistress Schemselnihar the chief favourite of the commander of the faithful, entreats you to come to her palace, where she waits for you.”  Ebn Thaher, to testify his obedience, rose up immediately, without answering the slave, and followed her, not without some reluctance.  The prince also followed he, without reflecting on the danger there might be in such a visit.  The presence of Ebn Thaher, who had liberty to go to the favourite when he pleased, made the prince very easy:  they followed the slave, who went a little before them, and entered after her into the caliph’s palace, and joined her at the gate of Schemselnihar’s pavilion, which was ready open.  She introduced them into a great hall, where she prayed them to be seated.

The prince of Persia thought himself in one of those delicious palaces that are promised to us in the other world:  he had never seen any thing that came near the magnificence of the place.  The carpets, cushions, and other appendages of the sofa, the furniture, ornaments, and architecture, were surprisingly rich and beautiful.  A little time after Ebn Thaher and he had seated themselves, a very handsome black slave brought in a table covered with several delicacies, the admirable smell of which evinced how deliciously they were seasoned.  While they were eating, the slave who brought them in waited upon them; she took particular care to invite them to eat of what she knew to be the greatest dainties.  The other slaves brought them excellent wine after they had eaten.  When they had done, there was presented to each of them a gold basin full of water to wash their hands; after which, they brought them a golden pot full of the wood of aloes, with which they perfumed their beards and clothes.  Odoriferous water was not forgotten, but served in a golden vessel enriched with diamonds and rubies, and it was thrown upon their beards and faces according to custom; they then resumed their places, but had scarcely sat down, when the slave entreated them to arise and follow her.  She opened a door, and conducted them into a large saloon of wonderful structure.  It was a dome of the most agreeable form, supported by a hundred pillars of marble, white as alabaster.  The bases and chapiters of the pillars were adorned with four-footed beasts, and birds of various sorts, gilded.  The carpet of this noble saloon consisted of one piece of cloth of gold, embroidered with bunches of roses in red and white silk; and the dome painted in the same manner, after the Arabian fashion, presented to the mind one of the most charming objects.  In every space between the columns was a little sofa adorned in the same manner, and great vessels of china, crystal, jasper, jet, porphyry, agate, and other precious materials, garnished with gold and jewels; in these spaces were also so many large windows, with balconies projecting breast high, fitted up as the sofas, and looking out into the most delicious garden; the walks were of little pebbles of different colours, of the same pattern as the carpet of the saloon; so that, looking upon the carpet within and without it seemed as if the dome and the garden with all its ornaments had been upon the same carpet.  The prospect was, at the end of the walks, terminated by two canals of clear water, of the same circular figure as the dome, one of which being higher than the other, emptied its water into the lowermost, in form of a sheet; and curious pots of gilt brass, with flowers and shrubs, were set upon the banks of the canals at equal distances.  Those walks lay betwixt great plots of ground planted with straight and bushy trees, where a thousand birds formed a melodious concert, and diverted the eye by flying about, and playing together, or fighting in the air.

The prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher were a long time engaged in viewing the magnificence of the place, and expressed their surprise at every thing thing saw, especially the prince, who had never beheld any thing like it.  Ebn Thaher, though he had been several times in that delicious place, could not but observe many new beauties, In a word they never grew weary in admiring so many singularities, and were thus agreeably employed, when they perceived a company of ladies richly appareled sitting without, at some distance from the dome, each of them upon a seat of Indian plane wood inlaid with silver filigree in compartments, with instruments of music in their hands, waiting for orders to play.  They both went forward, and had a full view of the ladies, and on the right they saw a great court with a stair up from the garden, encompassed with beautiful apartments.  The slave had left them, and being alone, they conversed together; “For you, who are a wise man,” said the prince of Persia, “I doubt not but you look with a great deal of satisfaction upon all these marks of grandeur and power; for my part, I do not think there is any thing in the world more surprising.  But when I consider that this is the glorious habitation of the lovely Schemselnihar, and that the greatest monarch of the earth keeps her here, I confess to you that I look upon myself to be the most unfortunate of all mankind, and that no destiny can be more cruel than mine, to love an object possessed by my rival, and that too in a place where he is so potent, that I cannot think myself sure of my life one moment.”

Ebn Thaher, hearing the prince of Persia speak, replied, “Sir, I wish you could give me as good assurance of the happy success of your passion, as I can give you of the safety of your life.  Though this stately palace belongs to the caliph, who built it on purpose for Schemselnihar, and called it the palace of eternal pleasures, and though it makes part of his own palace, yet you must know that this lady lives here at absolute liberty.  She is not beset by eunuchs to be spies upon her; this is her private house, absolutely at her disposal.  She goes into the city when she pleases, and returns again, without asking leave of any body:  and the caliph never comes to see her, but he sends Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, to give her notice, that she may be prepared to receive him.  Therefore you may be easy, and give full attention to the concert of music, which, I perceive, Schemselnihar is preparing for you.”

Just as Ebn Thaher had spoken these words, the prince of Persia, and he, saw the favourite’s trusty slave giving orders to the ladies to begin to sing, and play with the instruments:  they all began immediately to play together as a prelude, and after they had played some time, one of them began to sing alone, and accompanied herself at the same time admirably upon her lute, being informed beforehand upon what subject she was to sing.  The words were so agreeable to the prince of Persia’s sentiments, that he could not forbear applauding her at the end of the couplet.  “Is it possible,” cried he, “that you have the gift of knowing people’s hearts, and that the knowledge of what is passing in my mind has occasioned you to give us a taste of your charming voice by those words?  I should not express myself otherwise, were I to choose.”  The lady made no reply, but went on and sung several other stanzas, with which the prince was so affected, that he repeated some of them with tears in his eyes; which discovered plainly enough that he applied them to himself.  When she had finished, she and her companions rose up and sung a chorus, signifying by their words, that the full moon was going to rise in all her splendour, and that they should speedily see her approach the sun.  Intimating, that Schemselnihar was coming, and that the prince of Persia would soon have the pleasure of beholding her.

In fact, as they looked towards the court, they saw Schemselnihar’s confidant coming towards them, followed by ten black women, who, with much difficulty, carried a throne of massive silver curiously wrought, which they set down before them at a certain distance; the black slaves then retired behind the trees, to the entrance of a walk.  After this came twenty handsome ladies richly appareled alike; they advanced in two rows, each singing and playing upon instruments which she held in her hands, and placed themselves on each side of the throne.

All these things kept the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher in so much the greater expectation, as they were curious to know how they would end.  At length they saw advancing from the gate through which the ten black women had proceeded ten other ladies equally handsome, and well dressed, who halted a few moments, expecting the favourite, who came out last, and placed herself in the midst of them.

Schemselnihar was easily distinguished from the rest, by her fine shape and majestic air, as well as by a sort of mantle, of a very fine stuff of gold and sky-blue, fastened to her shoulders, over her other apparel, which was the most handsome, most magnificent, and best contrived that could be imagined.

The pearls, rubies, and diamonds, which adorned her, were well disposed; not many in number, but chosen with taste, and of inestimable value.  She came forward, with a majesty resembling the sun in its course amidst the clouds, which receive his splendour without hiding his lustre, and sat upon the silver throne that had been brought for her.

As soon as the prince of Persia saw Schemselnihar, his eyes were rivetted on her.  “We cease inquiring,” said he to Ebn Thaher, “after what we seek, when once it is in view; and no doubt remains, when once the truth is made apparent.  Do you see this charming beauty?  She is the cause of all my sufferings, which I bless, and will never forbear to bless, however severe and lasting.  At the sight of this objets, I am not my own master; my soul is disturbed, and rebels, and seems disposed to leave me.  Go then, my soul, I allow thee; but let it be for the welfare and preservation of this weak body.  It is you, cruel Ebn Thaher, who are the cause of this disorder, in bringing me hither.  You thought to do me a great pleasure; but I perceive I am only come to complete my ruin.  Pardon me,” he continued, interrupting himself; “I am mistaken.  I would come, and can blame no one but myself;” and at these words he burst into tears.  “I am glad,” said Ebn Thaher, “that you do me justice.  When I told you at first, that Schemselnihar was the caliph’s chief favourite, I did it on purpose to prevent that fatal passion which you please yourself with entertaining.  All that you see here ought to disengage you, and you are to think of nothing but of acknowledging the honour which Schemselnihar has done you, by ordering me to bring you with me; recall then your wandering reason, and prepare to appear before her, as good breeding requires.  See, she advances:  were we to begin again, I would take other measures, but since the thing is done, I pray God we may not have cause to repent.  All that I have now to say to you is, that love is a traitor, who may involve you in difficulties from which you will never be able to extricate yourself.”

Ebn Thaher had no time to say more, because Schemselnihar approached, and sitting down upon her throne, saluted them both by bowing her head; but she fixed her eyes on the prince of Persia, and they spoke to one another in a silent language intermixed with sighs; by which in a few moments they spoke more than they could have done by words in a much longer time.  The more Schemselnihar, looked upon the prince, the more she found in his looks to confirm her opinion that he was in love with her; and being thus persuaded of his passion, thought herself the happiest woman in the world.  At last she turned her eyes from him, to command the women, who began to sing first, to come near; they rose, and as they advanced, the black women, who came out of the walk into which they had retired, brought their seats, and placed them near the window, in the front of the dome where Ebn Thaher and the prince of Persia stood, and their seats were so disposed, that, with the favourite’s throne and the women on each side of her, they formed a semicircle before them.

The women, who were sitting before she came resumed their places, with the permission of Schemselnihar, who ordered them by a sign; that charming favourite chose one of those women to sing, who, after she had spent some moments in tuning her lute, sung a song, the meaning whereof was, that when two lovers entirely loved one another with affection boundless, their hearts, though in two bodies, were united; and, when any thing opposed their desires, could say with tears in their eyes, “If we love because we find one another amiable, ought we to be blamed?  Let destiny bear the blame.”

Schemselnihar evinced so plainly by her eyes and gestures that those words were applicable to herself and the prince of Persia, that he could not contain himself.  He arose, and advancing to a balustrade, which he leaned upon, beckoned to one of the companions of the woman who had just done singing, to approach.  When she had got near enough, he said to her, “Do me the favour to accompany me with your lute, in a song which you shall hear me sing.”  He then sung with an air so tender and passionate, as perfectly expressed the violence of his love.  As soon as he had done, Schemselnihar, following his example, said to one of the women, “Attend to me likewise, and accompany my song.”  At the same time she sung in such a manner, as more deeply to penetrate the heart of the prince of Persia, who answered her by a new air, more passionate than the former.

The two lovers having declared their mutual affection by their songs, Schemselnihar yielded to the force of hers.  She arose from her throne in transport, and advanced towards the door of the hall.  The prince, who perceived her design, rose up immediately, and went to meet her.  They met at the door, where they took one another by the hand, and embraced with so much passion, that they fainted, and would have fallen, if the woman who followed Schemselnihar had not hindered them.  They supported them to a sofa, where they were brought to themselves, by throwing odoriferous water on their faces, and applying pungent odours to their nostrils.

When they had recovered, the first thing Schemselnihar did was to look about:  and not seeing Ebn Thaher, she asked, with eagerness, where he was?  He had withdrawn out of respect whilst her women were engaged in recovering her, and dreaded, not without reason, that some disagreeable consequence might follow what he had seen; but as soon as he heard Schemselnihar inquire for him, he came forward.

Schemselnihar was much pleased to see Ebn Thaher, and expressed her joy in the most obliging terms:  “Ebn Thaher, I know not how to make you proper returns for the great obligations you have put upon me; without you, I should never have seen the prince of Persia, nor have loved the most amiable person in the world.  Assure yourself I shall not die ungrateful, and that my gratitude, if possible, shall be equal to the obligation.”  Ebn Thaher answered this compliment by a low obeisance, and wished the favourite the accomplishment of all her desires.

Schemselnihar, turning towards the prince of Persia, who sat by her, and looking upon him with some confusion after what had passed, said to him, “I am well assured you love me, and how great soever your love may be to me, you need not doubt but mine is as great towards you:  but let us not flatter ourselves; for, notwithstanding this conformity of our sentiments, I see nothing for you and me but trouble, impatience, and tormenting grief.  There is no other remedy for our evils but to love one another constantly, to refer ourselves to the disposal of Heaven, and to wait its determination of our destiny.”  “Madam,” replied the prince of Persia, “you will do me the greatest injustice, if you doubt for a moment the continuance of my love.  It is so interwoven with my soul, that I can justly say it makes the best part of it, and will continue so after death.  Pains, torments, obstacles, nothing shall prevent my loving you.”  Speaking these words he shed tears in abundance, and Schemselnihar was not able to restrain hers.

Ebn Thaher took this opportunity to speak to the favourite.  “Madam, allow me to represent to you, that, instead of melting into tears, you ought to rejoice that you are now together.  I understand not this grief.  What will it be when you are obliged to part?  But why do I talk of that?  We have been a long while here, and you know, madam, it is time for us to be going.”  “Ah! how cruel are you!” replied Schemselnihar, “You, who know the cause of my tears, have you no pity for my unfortunate condition?  Oh! sad fatality!  What have I done to subject myself to the severe law of not being able to join with the only person I love?”

Persuaded as she was that Ebn Thaher spoke to her only out of friendship, she did not take amiss what he said, but made a proper use of his intimation She made a sign to the slave her confidant, who immediately went out, and in a little time brought a collation of fruits upon a small silver table, which she set down betwixt her mistress and the prince of Persia.  Schemselnihar took some of the best, and presented it to the prince, praying him to eat it for her sake; he took it, and put to his mouth that part which she had touched; and then he presented some to her, which she took, and ate in the same manner.  She did not forget to invite Ebn Thaher to eat with them; but he thinking himself not safe in that place, and wishing himself at home, ate only out of complaisance.  After the collation was taken away, they brought a silver basin, with water in a vessel of gold, and washed together; they afterwards returned to their places, and three of the ten black women brought each a cup of rock crystal full of exquisite wine, upon a golden salver; which they placed before Schemselnihar, the prince of Persia, and Ebn Thaher.  That they might be the more private, Schemselnihar kept with her only ten black women, with ten others who began to sing, and play upon instruments; and after she had sent away all the rest, she took up one of the cups, and holding it in her hand sung some tender words, which one of her women accompanied with her lute.  When she had done, she drank, and afterwards took up one of the other cups and presented it to the prince, praying him to drink for love of her, as she had drunk for love of him.  He received the cup with a transport of love and joy; but before he drank, he sung also a song, which another woman accompanied with an instrument:  and as he sang the tears fell from his eyes in such abundance, that he could not forbear expressing in his song, that he knew not whether he was going to drink the wine she had presented to him, or his own tears.  Schemselnihar at last presented the third cup to Ebn Thaher, who thanked her for her kindness, and for the honour she did him.

After this she took a lute from one of her women, and sung to it in such a passionate manner, that she seemed to be transported out of herself:  and the prince of Persia stood with his eyes fixed upon her, as if he had been enchanted.  At this instant, her trusty slave came in great alarm, and addressing herself to her mistress, said, “Madam Mesrour and two other officers, with several eunuchs that attend them, are at the gate, and want to speak with you from the caliph.”  When the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher heard these words, they changed colour, and began to tremble as if they had been undone:  but Schemselnihar who perceived their agitation, revived their courage by a sigh.

After Schemselnihar had quieted the fears of the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, she ordered the slave, her confidant, to go and speak to Mesrour, and the two other officers, till she had put herself in a condition to receive them, and could send her to introduce them.  Immediately she ordered all the windows of’ the saloon to be shut, and the painted cloth on the side of the garden to be let down:  and after having assured the prince and Ebn Thaher that they might continue there without any fear, she went out at the gate leading to the garden, and closed it upon them:  but whatever assurance she had given them of their safety, they were full of apprehension all the while they remained there.

As soon as Schemselnihar had reached the garden with the women that had followed her, she ordered all the seats, which served the women who played on the instruments, to be placed near the window, where the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher heard them; and having got things in order, she sat down upon her silver throne:  she then sent notice to the slave her confidant to bring in the chief of the eunuchs, and his two subaltern officers.

They appeared, followed by twenty black eunuchs all handsomely clothed, with cimeters by their sides, and gold belts of four inches broad.  As soon as they perceived the favourite Schemselnihar at a distance, they made her a profound reverence, which she returned them from her throne.  When they approached, she arose and went to meet Mesrour, who advanced first; she asked what news he brought?  He answered, “Madam, the commander of the faithful has sent me to signify that he cannot live longer without seeing you; he designs to do himself that pleasure this night, and I am come to give you notice, that you may be ready to receive him.  He hopes, madam, that you will receive him with as much pleasure as he feels impatience to see you.”

At these words the favourite Schemselnihar prostrated herself to the ground, as a mark of that submission with which she received the caliph’s order.  When she rose, she said, “Pray tell the commander of the faithful, that I shall always reckon it my glory to execute his majesty’s commands, and that his slave will do her utmost to receive him with all the respect that is due to him.”  At the same time she ordered the slave her confidant to tell the black women appointed for that service to get the palace ready to receive the caliph, and dismissing the chief of the eunuchs, said to him, “You see it requires some time to get all things ready, therefore I entreat you to curb his majesty’s impatience, that, when he arrives, he may not find things out of order.”

The chief of the eunuchs and his retinue being gone, Schemselnihar returned to the saloon, extremely concerned at the necessity she was under of sending back the prince of Persia sooner than she had intended.  She came up to him again with tears in her eyes, which heightened Ebn Thaher’s fear, who thought it no good omen.  “Madam,” said the prince to her, “I perceive you are come to tell me that we must part:  if there be nothing more to dread, I hope Heaven will give me the patience which is necessary to support your absence.”  “Alas!” replied the too tender Schemselnihar, “how happy do I think you, and how unhappy do I think myself, when I compare your lot with my sad destiny!  No doubt you will suffer by my absence, but that is all, and you may comfort yourself with hopes of seeing me again; but as for me, just Heaven! what a terrible trial am I brought to!  I must not only be deprived of the sight of the only person whom I love, but I must be tormented with the presence of one whom you have made hateful to me.  Will not the arrival of the caliph put me in mind of your departure?  And how can I, when I am taken up with your dear image, express to that prince the joy which he always observed in my eyes whenever he came to see me?  I shall have my mind perplexed when I speak to him, and the least complaisance which I shew to his love will stab me to the heart.  Can I relish his kind words and caresses?  Think, prince, to what torments I shall be exposed when I can see you no more.”  Her tears and sighs hindered her from going on, and the prince of Persia would have replied, but his own grief, and that of his mistress, deprived him of the power of speech.

Ebn Thaher, who only wished to get out of the palace, was obliged to comfort them, and to exhort them to have patience:  but the trusty slave again interrupted them.  “Madam,” said she to Schemselnihar, “you have no time to lose; the eunuchs begin to arrive, and you know the caliph will be here immediately.”  “O Heaven! how cruel is this separation!” cried the favourite.  “Make haste,” said she to the confidant, “take them both to the gallery which looks into the garden on the one side, and to the Tigris on the other; and when the night grows dark, let them out by the back gate, that they may retire with safety.”  Having spoken thus, she tenderly embraced the prince of Persia, without being able to say one word more, and went to meet the caliph in such disorder as cannot well be imagined.

In the mean time, the trusty slave conducted the prince and Ebn Thaher to the gallery, as Schemselnihar had appointed; and left them there, assuring them, as she closed the door upon them, that they had nothing to fear, and that she would come for them when it was time.

When Schemselnihar’s trusty slave had left the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, they forgot she had assured them they had nothing to apprehend.  They examined the gallery, and were seized with extreme fear, because they knew no means of escape, if the caliph or any of his officers should happen to come there.

A great light, which they suddenly beheld through the lattices on the garden side, caused them to approach them to see from whence it came.  It was occasioned by a hundred flambeaux of white wax, carried by as many young eunuchs:  these were followed by more than a hundred others, who guarded the ladies of the caliph’s palace, clothed, and armed with cimeters, in the same manner as those I spoke of before; and the caliph came after them, betwixt Mesrour their captain on his right, and Vassif their second officer on his left hand.

Schemselnihar waited for the caliph at the entrance of a walk, accompanied by twenty women all of surprising beauty, adorned with necklaces and ear-rings of large diamonds; they played and sung on their instruments, and formed a charming concert.  The favourite no sooner saw the prince appear, but she advanced and prostrated herself at his feet; and while she was doing this, “Prince of Persia,” said she, within herself, “if your sad eyes witness what I do, judge of my hard lot; if I were humbling myself so before you, my heart would feel no reluctance.”

The caliph was delighted to see Schemselnihar:  “Rise, madam,” said he to her, “come near, I am angry with myself that I should have deprived myself so long of the pleasure of seeing you.”  As he spoke, he took her by the hand, and, with many tender expressions, went and sat down upon the silver throne which Schemselnihar caused to be brought for him, and she sat down on a seat before him.  The twenty women made a circle round them upon other seats, while the young eunuchs, who carried flambeaux, dispersed themselves at a certain distance from one another, that the caliph might the better enjoy the cool of the evening.

When the caliph had seated himself, he looked round him, and beheld with great satisfaction the garden illuminated with many other lights, besides those flambeaux which the young eunuchs held; but taking notice that the saloon was shut, expressed his surprise, and demanded the reason.  It was done on purpose to surprise him; for he had no sooner spoken, than all the windows flew open at once, and he saw it illuminated within and without, in a much better manner than ever he had beheld it before.  “Charming Schemselnihar,” cried he, at this sight, “I understand you; you would have me know there are as fine nights as days.  After what I have seen, I cannot deny this.”

Let us return to the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, whom we left in the gallery.  Ebn Thaher could not enough admire all that he saw:  “I am not young,” said he, “and I have seen great entertainments in my time; but I do not think any thing can be seen so surprising and magnificent!  All that is said of enchanted palaces does not come up to the prodigious spectacle we now behold.  What riches and magnificence united!”

The prince of Persia was not at all interested by the objects which so delighted Ebn Thaher; he could look on nothing but Schemselnihar, and the presence of the caliph threw him into inconceivable grief.  “Dear Ebn Thaher,” he exclaimed, “would to God I had my mind as much at liberty to attend to those objects of admiration as you!  But alas!  I am in a quite different situation, all these things serve only to increase my torment.  Can I see the caliph familiar with the objets of my love, and not die of grief?  Must so ardent a passion as mine be disturbed with so potent a rival?  O heavens!  How cruel and strange is my destiny!  It is but a moment since I esteemed myself the most fortunate lover in the world, and at this instant I feel a death stroke to my heart.  I cannot resist it, my dear Ebn Thaher; my patience is exhausted, my disorder overwhelms me, and my courage fails.”  While he was speaking, he saw something pass in the garden, which obliged him to be silent and to turn all his attention that way.

The caliph had ordered one of the women, who was near him, to play upon her lute, and she began to sing.  The words she sung were very passionate, and the caliph, persuaded that she sung thus by order of Schemselnihar, who had frequently entertained him with the like testimonies of her affection, interpreted them in his own favour.  But this was not now Schemselnihar’s meaning; she applied them to her dear Ali Ebn Becar, and was so sensibly touched with grief, to have before her an object whose presence she could no longer enjoy, that she fainted and fell backwards upon her seat, which having no arms to support her, she must have fallen, had not some of the women given her timely assistance, taken her up, and carried her into the saloon.

Ebn Thaher, who was in the gallery, being surprised at this accident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but instead of finding him standing, and looking through the window as before, he was extremely amazed to discover him lying at his feet motionless.  This convinced him of the violence of the prince’s passion for Schemselnihar, and he admired that strange effect of sympathy, which put him into a mortal fear on account of the place they were in.  He did all he could to recover the prince, but in vain.  Ebn Thaher was in this perplexity, when Schemselnihar’s confidant opened the gallery door, and entered out of breath, as one who knew not where she was.  “Come speedily,” cried she “that I may let you out; all is in confusion here; and I fear this will be the last of our days.”  “Alas! how would you have us go?” replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice; “approach, and see what a condition the prince of Persia is in.”  When the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran for water, and returned in an instant.

At last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his face, recovered.  “Prince,” said Ebn Thaher to him, “we run the risk of perishing if we stay here any longer; exert yourself, therefore, let us endeavour to save our lives.”  He was so feeble, that he could not rise alone; Ebn Thaher and the confidant lent him their hands, and supported him on each side.  They reached a little iron gate which opened towards the Tigris, went out at it, and came to the side of a little canal which communicated with the river.  The confidant clapped her hands, and immediately a little boat appeared, and came towards them with one rower.  Ali Ebn Becar and his comrade went aboard, and the confidant remained at the side of the canal.  As soon as the prince was seated in the boat, he stretched out one hand towards the palace, and laying the other on his heart, exclaimed with a feeble voice, “Dear object of my soul, receive my faith with this hand, while I assure you with the other, that my heart shall for ever preserve the fire with which it burns for you.”

In the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might, and Schemselnihar’s confidant accompanied the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher walking along the side of the canal, until they came to the Tigris, and when she could go no farther she took leave of them and returned.

The prince of Persia continued very feeble.  Ebn Thaher comforted him, and exhorted him to take courage.  “Consider,” said he, “that when we are landed, we have a great way to walk before we reach my house, and I would not advise you to go to your palace, which is a great deal farther, at this hour and in this condition.”  At last they went out of the boat, but the prince had so little strength that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great perplexity.  He recollected he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and carried the prince thither with great difficulty.  His friend received him very cheerfully, and when he had made them sit down, he asked them where they had been so late.  Ebn Thaher answered, “I heard this evening that a man who owed me a considerable sum of money was setting out on a long voyage.  I lost no time to find him, and by the way I met with this young nobleman, to whom I am under a thousand obligations; for knowing my debtor, he did me the favour to go along with me.  We had a great deal of trouble to bring the man to reason.  We have at length succeeded, and that is the cause of our being so late.  In our return home, this good lord, to whom I am for ever bound to shew all possible respect, was attacked by a sudden illness, which made me take the liberty to knock at your door, flattering myself that you would be pleased to lodge us this night.”

Ebn Thaher’s friend took all this for truth, told them they were welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all the assistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the prince, and said, that his distemper was of such a nature as to require nothing but rest.  His friend understood by this that they desired to go to bed.  Upon which he conducted them to an apartment, where he left them.

Though the prince of Persia slept, he was interrupted by troublesome dreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at the caliph’s feet, and increased his affliction.  Ebn Thaher was very impatient to be at home, and doubted not but his family was under great apprehension, because he never used to sleep out.  He arose and departed early in the morning, after he had taken leave of his friend, who rose at break of day to prayers At last he reached his house, and the first thing the prince of Persia did, who had walked so far with much trouble, was to lie down upon a sofa, as weary as if he had been a long journey.  Not being in a state to go to his own palace, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be prepared for him, and sent to acquaint his friends with his condition, and where he was.  In the mean time he begged him to compose himself, to command in his house, and to dispose of all things as he pleased.  “I thank you heartily for your obliging offers,” said the prince; “but that I may not be any ways troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal with me as if I were not at your house.  I would not stay one moment, if I thought my presence would incommode you in the least.”

As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his family all that had passed at Schemselnihar’s palace, and concluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger he had been in.  The prince of Persia’s principal domestics came to receive his orders at Ebn Thaher’s house, and in a little time there arrived several of his friends, who had notice of his indisposition.  Those friends passed the greatest part of the day with him; and though their conversation could not extinguish those melancholy ideas which were the cause of his trouble, yet it afforded him some relief.  He would have taken his leave of Ebn Thaher towards the evening; but this faithful friend found him still so weak, that he obliged him to stay till next day, and in the mean time, to divert him, gave a concert of vocal and instrumental music in the evening; but this concert served only to remind him of the preceding night, and renewed his trouble, instead of assuaging it; so that next day his distemper seemed to increase.  Upon this Ebn Thaher did not oppose his going home, but took care to accompany him; and when he was with him alone in his chamber, he represented to him all those arguments which might influence him to a generous effort to overcome his passion, which in the end would neither prove fortunate to himself nor to the favourite.  “Ah! dear Ebn Thaher,” exclaimed the prince, “how easy is it for you to give this advice, but how hard for me to follow it!  I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to profit by it.  I have said already, that I shall carry to the grave the love I bear to Schemselnihar.”  When Ebn Thaher saw that he could gain nothing upon the prince, he took his leave, and would have retired.

The prince of Persia interrupted him, and said, “Kind Ebn Thaher, since I have declared to you that it is not in my power to follow your wise counsels, I beg you would not charge it on me as a crime, nor forbear to give me the usual testimonies of your friendship.  You cannot do me a greater favour than to inform me of the destiny of my dear Schemselnihar, when you hear of her.  The uncertainty I am in concerning her fate, and the apprehensions her fainting have occasioned in me, keep me in this languishing condition you reproach me with.”  “My lord,” answered Ebn Thaher, “you have reason to hope that her fainting was not attended with any bad consequences:  her confidant will quickly come and inform me of the issue; and as soon as I know the particulars, I will not fail to impart them.”

Ebn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home, where he expected Schemselnihar’s confidant all the rest of the day, but in vain, nor did she come on the following.  His uneasiness to know the state of the prince of Persia’s health would not suffer him to wait any longer without seeing him.  He went to his palace to exhort him to patience, and found him lying on his bed as ill as ever, surrounded by a great many of his friends, and several physicians, who used all their art to discover the cause of his disorder.  As soon as he saw Ebn Thaher, he looked at him with a smile, to signify that he had two things to tell him; the one, that he was glad to see him; the other how much the physicians, who could not discover the cause of his illness, were out in their reasonings.

His friends and physicians retired one after another, so that Ebn Thaher being alone with him, approached his bed to ask him how he had been since he had last seen him.  “I must tell you,” answered the prince, “that my passion, which continually gathers new strength, and the uncertainty of the lovely Schemselnihar’s fate, augment my disorder every moment, and cast me into such a state as afflicts my kindred and friends, and breaks the measures of my physicians, who do not understand it.  You cannot think,” he added, “how much I suffer by seeing so many people about me, who importune me, and whom I cannot in civility put away.  Your company alone relieves me; but I conjure you not to dissemble with me:  what news do you bring of Schemselnihar?  Have you seen her confidant?  What says she to you?” Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not seen her yet.  No sooner had he communicated to the prince of Persia this sad intelligence, than the tears came into his eyes; he could not answer one word, his heart was so oppressed.  “Prince,” added Ebn Thaher, “suffer me to tell you, that you are too ingenious in tormenting yourself.  In the name of God, wipe away your tears:  if any of your people should come in, they would discover you by this, notwithstanding the care you ought to take to conceal your thoughts.”  Whatever his judicious adviser could say, it was not possible for the prince to refrain from weeping.  “Wise Ebn Thaher,” said he, when he had recovered his speech, “I may indeed hinder my tongue from revealing the secrets of my heart, but I have no power over my tears, upon such an alarming subject as Schemselnihar’s danger.  If that adorable and only objets of my desires be no longer in the world, I shall not survive her a moment.”  “Reject so afflicting a thought,” replied Ebn Thaher; “Schemselnihar is yet alive, you need not doubt it:  if you have heard no news of her, it is because she could find no opportunity to send to you, and I hope you will hear from her to-day.”  To this he added several other consoling arguments, and then withdrew.

Ebn Thaher had scarcely reached his own house, when Schemselnihar’s confidant arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a bad omen.  He asked news of her mistress.  “Tell me yours first,” said the confidant, “for I was in great trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition.”  Ebn Thaher told her all that she wished to know, and when he had done, the slave began thus:  “If the prince of Persia has suffered, and does still suffer for my mistress, she suffers no less for him.  After I departed from you, I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the assistance they endeavoured to give her.  The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of real grief.  He asked all the women, and me in particular, if we knew the cause of her disorder; but we kept all secret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it.  In the mean time we all wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any ways relieve her.  In a word, it was almost midnight before she came to herself.  The caliph, who had the patience to wait the event, was rejoiced at her recovery, and asked Schemselnihar the cause of her illness.  As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to recover her seat; and after she had kissed his feet, before he could hinder her, ‘Sir,’ said she, ’I have reason to complain of heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your majesty’s feet to testify thereby how sensible I am of your favours.’

“‘I am persuaded you love me,’ replied the caliph, ’and I command you to preserve yourself for my sake.  You have probably exceeded in something to-day, which has occasioned this indisposition; take care, I entreat you; abstain from it for the future.  I am glad to see you better, and advise you to stay here to-night, and not return to your chamber, for fear the motion should affect you.’  He then commanded a little wine to be brought to strengthen her; and taking leave of her, returned to his apartment.

“As soon as the caliph had departed, my mistress gave me a sign to come near her.  She asked me earnestly concerning you:  I assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her easy on that head.  I took care not to speak of the prince of Persia’s fainting, lest she should fall into the same state, from which we had so much trouble to recover her:  but my precautions were in vain, as you shall hear.  ‘Prince,’ exclaimed she, ’I henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of the sight of you.  If I have understood your heart right, I only follow your example.  You will not cease to weep and mourn until I see you.’  At these words, which she uttered in a manner expressive of the violence of her passion, she fainted a second time in my arms.

“My companions and I were a long time recovering her; at last she came to herself; and then I said to her, ’Madam, are you resolved to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you?  I entreat you, in the name of the prince of Persia, who is so deeply interested in your life, to preserve it.’  ’I am much obliged to you,’ replied she, ’for your care, your zeal, and your advice; but alas! they are useless to me:  you are not to flatter us with any hopes, for we can expect no end of our torment but in the grave.’

“One of my companions would have diverted these sad thoughts by playing on the lute, but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night with her.  O heavens! what a night it was! she passed it in tears and groans, and incessantly naming the prince of Persia.  She lamented her lot, that had destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not for him whom she loved so dearly.

“Next morning, as she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon, I helped her to her chamber, which she had no sooner reached, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her, by order of the caliph, who was not long before he arrived himself.  The medicines which the physicians prescribed to Schemselnihar were ineffectual, because they were ignorant of the cause of her malady, which was augmented by the presence of the caliph.  She got a little rest however this night, and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you, to learn some news of the prince of Persia.”  “I have already informed you of his case,” said Ebn Thaher; “so return to your mistress, and assure her, that the prince of Persia waits for some account of her with an impatience equal to her own.  Above all, exhort her to moderation, and to overcome her feelings, for fear she should drop before the caliph some word, which may prove fatal to us all.”  “As for me,” replied the confidant, “I confess I dread her transports.  I have taken the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take it ill that I tell her this from you.”

Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia’s lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect his own important affairs; he therefore went not till the evening.  The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning.  “Ebn Thaher,” said he to him, as soon as he saw him, “you have doubtless many friends, but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me by your zeal, your care, and the trouble you give yourself to oblige me.  I am confounded with all that you do for me with so much affection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my gratitude.”  “Prince,” answered Ebn Thaher, “do not speak thus, I entreat you.  I am ready, not only to give one of my eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you.  But this is not the present business.  I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confidant to ask me about you, and at the same time to inform me of her condition.  You may assure yourself that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love her.”  Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him.  The prince listened with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and compassion, which this conversation could inspire, making, upon every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.

Their conversation continued so long that the night was far advanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay with him.  The next morning, as this trusty friend returned home, there came a woman to him whom he knew to be Schemselnihar’s confidant, and immediately she spoke to him thus:  “My mistress salutes you, and I am come to entreat you in her name to deliver this letter to the prince of Persia.”  The zealous Ebn Thaher took the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confidant slave.

When Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia’s house with Schemselnihar’s confidant, he prayed her to stay, and wait for him a moment in the ante-room.  As soon as the prince saw him, he asked earnestly what news he had to communicate?  “The best you can expect,” answered Ebn Thaher:  “you are as dearly beloved as you love; Schemselnihar’s confidant is in your anteroom; she has brought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders to come in.”  “Let her enter,” cried the prince, with a transport of joy; and so saying, sat up to receive her.

The prince’s attendants retired as soon as they saw Ebn Thaher, and left him alone with their master.  Ebn Thaher opened the door himself, and brought in the confidant.  The prince knew her, and received her with great politeness.  “My lord,” said she to him, “I am sensible of the affliction you have endured since I had the honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you back; but I hope the letter I have brought will contribute to your cure.”  So saying, she presented him the letter.  He took it, and after he had kissed it several times, opened it, and read as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

“The person who will deliver to you this letter will give you more correct information concerning me than I can, for I have not been myself since I saw you.  Deprived of your presence, I endeavour to deceive myself by conversing with you by these ill-written lines, with the same pleasure as if I had the happiness of speaking to you in person.

“It is said that patience is a cure for all evils, but instead of relieving it heightens my sufferings.  Although your picture is deeply engraver in my heart, my eyes desire to have the original continually before them; and they will lose all their light, if they be any considerable time deprived of this felicity.  May I flatter myself that yours have the same impatience to see me?  Yes, I can; their tender glances have sufficiently assured me of this.  How happy, prince, would it be for you, how happy for Schemselnihar, if our united desires were not thwarted by invincible obstacles; obstacles which afflict me the more sensibly as they affect you.

“These thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with incredible pleasure, repeating them again and again, proceed from the bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding the cruel torments I endure through your absence.  I would reckon all that opposes our love nothing, were I only allowed to see you sometimes with freedom; I should then enjoy your company, and what could I desire more?

“Do not imagine that I say more than I think.  Alas! whatever expressions I use, I feel that I think more than I can tell you.  My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your return; my afflicted heart, which desires you alone; the sighs that escape me as often as I think on you, and that is every moment; my imagination, which represents no other object to me than my dear prince; the complaints that I make to heaven for the rigour of my destiny; in a word, my grief, my distress, my torments, which have allowed me no ease since I was deprived of your presence, will vouch for what I write.

“Am not I unhappy to be born to dove, without hope of enjoying the object of my passion?  This afflicting thought oppresses me so that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me:  but this sweet comfort balances my despair, and preserves my life.  Tell me that you love me always.  I will keep your letter carefully, and read it a thousand times a-day:  I shall endure my afflictions with less impatience:  I pray heaven may cease to be angry at us, and grant us an opportunity to say that we love one another without fear; and that we shall never cease thus to love.  Adieu.  I salute Ebn Thaher, to whom we are so much obliged.”

The prince of Persia was not satisfied with reading the letter once; he thought he had perused it with too little attention, and therefore read it again with more leisure; and while so doing, sometimes heaved deep sighs, sometimes shed tears, and sometimes broke out into transports of joy and tenderness as the contents affected him.  In short, he could not keep his eyes off those characters drawn by so beloved a hand, and was beginning to read it a third time, when Ebn Thaher observed to him that the confidant had no time to lose, and that he ought to think of giving an answer.  “Alas!” cried the prince, “how would you have me reply to so kind a letter!  In what terms shall I express myself in my present disturbed state!  My mind is tossed with a thousand tormenting thoughts, which are lost the moment they are conceived, to make way for others.  So long as my body is influenced by the impressions of my mind, how shall I be able to hold the paper, or guide a reed to write.”

So saying, he took out of a little desk which was near him, paper, a cane ready cut, and an inkhorn.

The prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave Schemselnihar’s letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it open while he wrote, that by casting his eyes upon it he might the better see what to answer.  He began to write; but the tears that fell from his eyes upon the paper obliged him several times to stop, that they might fall the more freely.  At last he finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, “Read it, I pray,” said he, “and do me the favour to see if the disorder of my mind has allowed me to give a favourable answer.”  Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:

The Prince of Persia’s Answer to Schemselnihar’s Letter.

“I was plunged in the deepest grief when I received your letter, but at the sight of it I was transported with unspeakable joy.  When I beheld the characters written by your fair hand, my eyes were enlightened by a stronger light than they lost, when yours were suddenly closed at the feet of my rival.  The words contained in your kind epistle are so many rays which have dispelled the darkness wherewith my soul was obscured; they shew me how much you suffer from your love of me, and that you are not ignorant of what I endure on your account.  Thus they comfort me in my afflictions.  On the one hand they cause me to shed tears in abundance; and on the other, inflame my heart with a fire which supports it, and prevents my dying of grief.  I have not had one moment’s rest since our cruel separation.  Your letter alone gave me some ease.  I kept a mournful silence till the moment I received it, and then recovered my speech.  I was buried in profound melancholy, but it inspired me with joy, which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance.  But my surprise at receiving a favour which I had not yet deserved was so great, that I knew not how to begin to testify my thankfulness.  In a word, after having kissed it several times, as a precious pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune.  You would have me declare that I always love you.  Ah! did I not love you so perfectly as I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you have given me of an affection so uncommon:  yes, I love you, my dear soul, and shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet fire you have kindled in my heart.  I will never complain of that ardour with which I feel it consumes me:  and how rigorous soever the evils I suffer, I will bear them with fortitude, in hopes some time or other to see you.  Would to heaven it were to-day, and that, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come and assure you in person, that I die for you!  My tears hinder me from saying more.  Adieu.”

Ebn Thaher could not read these last lines without weeping.  He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction.  The prince closed it, and when he had sealed it, he desired the trusty slave to come near, and said to her, “This is my answer to you dear mistress’s letter.  I conjure you to carry it to her, and to salute her in my name.”  The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.

After Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her, and went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue in which he found himself unhappily engaged.  He considered, that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, conducted themselves with so little discretion, that it could not be long a secret.  He drew all the consequences from it, which a man of good sense might have anticipated.  “Were Schemselnihar,” said he to himself, “a lady of common rank, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her lover happy; but she is the caliph’s favourite, and no man can without danger attempt to engage the affections of the objets of his choice.  His anger would fall in the first instance on Schemselnihar; it will next cost the prince of Persia his life, and I should be involved in his misfortune.  In the mean time I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my property to preserve.  I must, while I can, extricate myself out of such a perilous situation.”

These thoughts occupied his mind all that day.  Next morning he went to the prince of Persia, with a design of making one more effort to induce him to conquer his passion.  He represented to him what he had before urged in vain; that it would be much better for him to summon all his resolution, to overcome his inclination for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be hurried away by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was powerful.  “In short, sir,” added he, “if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your love; otherwise you run the risk of destroying yourself with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own.  I give you this advice as a friend, for which you will some time or other thank me.”

The prince heard Ebn Thaher with great impatience, but suffered him to speak his mind, and then replied to him thus:  “Ebn Thaher, do you think I can cease to love Schemselnihar, who loves me so tenderly?  She is not afraid to expose her life for me, and would you have me regard mine?  No; whatever misfortunes befall me, I will love Schemselnihar to my last breath.”

Ebn Thaher, shocked at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left him hastily, and going to his own house, recalled his former reflections, and began to think seriously what he should do.  In the mean time a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to see him.  The jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar’s confidant came oftener to Ebn Thaher than usual, and that he was constantly with the prince of Persia, whose sickness was known to every one, though not the cause.  This had awakened the jeweller’s suspicions, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, he presently judged that he was perplexed with some important affair, and fancying that he knew the cause, he asked what Schemselnihar’s confidant wanted with him?  Ebn Thaher being struck with this question, would have dissembled, and told him, that it was on some trifling errand she came so frequently to him.  “You do not tell me the truth,” said the jeweller, “and your dissimulation only serves to prove to me that this trifle is a more important affair than at first I thought it to be.”

Ebn Thaher, perceiving that his friend pressed him so much, said to him, “It is true, that it is an affair of the greatest consequence.  I had resolved to keep it secret, but since I know how much you are my friend, I choose rather to make you my confidant, than to suffer you to be under a mistake about it.  I do not bind you to secrecy, for you will easily judge by what I am going to tell you how impossible it is to keep it unknown.”  After this preamble, he told him the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia.  “You know,” he continued, “in what esteem I am at court, in the city, and with lords and ladies of the greatest quality; what a disgrace would it be for me, should this rash amour come to be discovered?  But what do I say; should not I and my family be completely ruined!  That is what perplexes my mind; but I have just formed my resolution:  I will go immediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts, and when I have secured my property, will retire to Bussorah, and stay till the storm, that I foresee, is blown over.  My friendship for Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to what dangers they are exposed.  I pray heaven to convince them of their peril, and to preserve them; but if their evil destiny should bring their attachment to the knowledge of the caliph, I shall, at least, be out of the reach of his resentment; for I do not think them so wicked as to design to involve me in their misfortunes.  It would be the height of ingratitude, and a bad reward for the service I have done them, and the good advice I have given, particularly to the prince of Persia, who may save both himself and his mistress from this precipice.  He may as easily leave Bagdad as I; and absence will insensibly disenage him from a passion, which will only increase whilst he continues in this place.”

The jeweller was extremely surprised at what Ebn Thaher told him.  “What you say,” said he, “is of so much importance, that I cannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince could have abandoned themselves to such a violent passion.  What inclination soever they may have for one another, instead of yielding to it, they ought to resist it, and make a better use of their reason.  Is it possible they can be insensible of the danger of their correspondence?  How deplorable is their blindness!  I anticipate all its consequences as well as yourself; but you are wise and prudent, and I approve your resolution; as it is the only way to deliver yourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear.”  After this conversation the jeweller rose, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher.

Before the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him by the friendship betwixt them, to say nothing of what he had heard.  “Fear not,” replied the jeweller, “I will keep this secret at the peril of my life.”

Two days after, the jeweller went to Ebn Thaher’s shop, and seeing it shut, he doubted not but he had executed his design; but, to be more sure, he asked a neighbour, if he knew why it was not opened?  The neighbour answered that he knew not, unless Ebn Thaher was gone a journey.  There was no need of his enquiring farther, and he immediately thought of the prince of Persia:  “Unhappy prince,” said he to himself, “what will be your grief when you hear this news?  How will you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar?  I fear you will die of despair.  I pity you, and must repair your loss of a too timid confidant.”

The business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence, so that he neglected it, and though he had no knowledge of the prince of Persia, only by having sold him some jewels, he went to his house.  He addressed himself to one of his servants, and desired him to tell his master, that he wished to speak with him about business of very great importance.  The servant returned immediately to the jeweller, and introduced him to the prince’s chamber.  He was leaning on a sofa, with his head on a cushion.  As soon as the prince saw him, he rose up to receive and welcome him, and entreated him to sit down; asked him if he could serve him in any thing, or if he came to tell him any thing interesting concerning himself.  “Prince,” answered the jeweller, “though I have not the honour to be particularly acquainted with you, yet the desire of testifying my zeal has made me take the liberty to come to your house, to impart to you a piece of news that concerns you.  I hope you will pardon my boldness for my good intention.”

After this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and continued:  “Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it is a long time since conformity of disposition, and some business we have had together, united Ebn Thaher and myself in strict friendship.  I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has employed himself in obliging you to his utmost.  I have learnt this from himself, for he keeps nothing secret from me, nor I from him.  I went just now to his shop, and was surprised to find it shut.  I addressed myself to one of his neighbours, to ask the reason; he answered me, that two days ago Ebn Thaher took leave of him, and other neighbours, offering them his service at Bussorah, whither he is gone, said he, about an affair of great importance.  Not being satisfied with this answer, my concern for his welfare determined me to come and ask if you knew any thing particular concerning this his sudden departure.”

At this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject, the better to compass his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked at the jeweller in a manner which convinced him how much he was disconcerted at the intelligence.  “I am surprised at what you inform me,” said he; “a greater misfortune could not befall me:  Ah!” he continued, with tears in his eyes, “if what you tell me be true, I am undone!  Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, in whom I put all my confidence, left me?  I cannot think of living after so cruel a blow.”

The jeweller needed no more to convince him fully of the prince of Persia’s violent passion, which Ebn Thaher had told him of:  mere friendship would not make him speak so; nothing but love could produce such lively sensations.

The prince continued some moments absorbed in melancholy thoughts; at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his servants, said, “Go, to Ebn Thaher’s house, and ask some of his domestics if he be gone to Bussorah:  run, and come back quickly with the answer.”  While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to entertain the prince of Persia with indifferent subjects; but the prince gave little heed to him.  He was a prey to fatal grief:  sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher was gone, and at others he did not doubt of it, when he reflected upon the conversation he had had with him the last time he had seen him, and the abrupt manner in which he had left him.

At last the prince’s servant returned, and reported that he had spoken with one of Ebn Thaher’s servants, who assured him that he had been gone two days to Bussorah.  “As I came from Ebn Thaher’s house,” added the servant, “a slave well dressed met me, and after she had asked me if I had the honour to belong to you, told me she wanted to speak with you, and begged at the same time that she might accompany me:  she is in the outer room, and I believe has a letter to deliver to you from some person of consequence.”  The prince commanded her to be immediately introduced, not doubting but it was Schemselnihar’s confidant slave, as indeed it was.  The jeweller knew her, having seen her several times at Ebn Thaher’s house:  she could not have come at a better time to save the prince from despair.  She saluted him.  The prince of Persia returned the salute of Schemselnihar’s confidant.  The jeweller arose as soon as he saw her and retired, to leave them at liberty to converse together.  The confidant, after she had spoken some time with the prince, took her leave and departed.  She left him quite another person from what he was before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more gay, which satisfied the jeweller that the good slave came to tell him something favourable to his amour.

The jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to him smiling, “I see, prince, you have business of importance at the caliph’s palace.”  The prince of Persia, astonished and alarmed at these words, answered the jeweller, “What leads you to suppose that I have business at the caliph’s palace?” “I judge so,” replied the jeweller, “by the slave who has just left you.”  “And to whom, think you, belongs this slave?” demanded the prince.  “To Schemselnihar the caliph’s favourite,” answered the jeweller:  “I know,” continued he, “both the slave and her mistress, who has several times done me the honour to come to my house, and buy jewels.  Besides, I know that Schemselnihar keeps nothing secret from this slave; and I have seen her pass backwards and forwards for several days along the streets, as I thought very much troubled; I imagined that it was for some affair of consequence concerning her mistress.”

The jeweller’s words greatly troubled the prince of Persia.  “He would not say so,” said he to himself, “if he did not suspect, or rather were not acquainted with my secret.”  He remained silent for some time, not knowing what course to take.  At last he began, and said to the jeweller, “You have told me things which make me believe that you know yet more than you have acquainted me with; it concerns my repose that I be perfectly informed; I conjure you therefore not to conceal any thing from me.”

Then the jeweller, who desired nothing more, gave him a particular account of what had passed betwixt Ebn Thaher and himself.  He informed him that he was apprised of his correspondence with Schemselnihar and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher, alarmed at the danger of being his confidant in the matter, had communicated to him his intention of retiring to Bussorah, until the storm which he dreaded should be blown over.  “This he has executed,” added the jeweller, “and I am surprised how he could determine to abandon you, in the condition he informed me you were in.  As for me, prince, I confess, I am moved with compassion towards you, and am come to offer you my service.  If you do me the favour to accept of it, I engage myself to be as faithful to you as Ebn Thaher; besides, I promise to be more resolute.  I am ready to sacrifice my honour and life for you:  and, that you may not doubt of my sincerity, I swear by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep your secret inviolable.  Be persuaded then, prince, that you will find in me the friend whom you have lost.”  This declaration encouraged the prince, and comforted him under Ebn Thaher’s absence.  “I am glad,” said he to the jeweller, “to find in you a reparation of my loss; I want words to express the obligations I am under to you.  I pray God to recompense your generosity, and I accept your obliging offer with all my heart.  Believe me,” continued he, “Schemselnihar’s confidant came to speak to me concerning you.  She told me that it was you who advised Ebn Thaher to go from Bagdad; these were the last words she spoke to me, as she went away, and she seemed persuaded of what she said; but they do not do you justice.  I doubt not, after what you have told me, she is deceived.”  “Prince” replied the jeweller, “I have had the honour to give you a faithful account of my conversation with Ebn Thaher.  It is true, when he told me he meant to retire to Bussorah, I did not oppose his design; but let not this prevent your putting confidence in me.  I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal.  If you do not use my service, this shall not hinder me from keeping your secret religiously, according to my oath.”  “I have already told you,” replied the prince, “that I did not believe what the confidant said:  it is her zeal which inspired her with this groundless suspicion, and you ought to excuse it, as I do.”

They continued their conversation for some time, and consulted together about the most convenient means to keep up the prince’s correspondence with Schemselnihar.  They agreed to begin by undeceiving the confidant, who was so unjustly prepossessed against the jeweller.  The prince engaged to remove her mistake the first time he saw her again, and to intreat her to address herself to the jeweller whenever she might bring letters, or any other information from her mistress to him.  In short, they determined, that she ought not to come so frequently to the prince’s house, because thereby she might lead to the discovery of what it was of so great importance to conceal.  At last the jeweller arose, and, after having again intreated the prince of Persia to place an unreserved confidence in him, withdrew.

The jeweller returning to his house perceived before him a letter, which somebody had dropped in the street.  He took it up, and as it was not sealed, he opened it, and read as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

“I have received from my confidant intelligence which gives me no less concern than it must give you.  In Ebn Thaher, we have indeed sustained a great loss; but let this not hinder you, dear prince, from thinking of your own preservation.  If our friend has abandoned us through fear, let us consider that it is a misfortune which we could not avoid.  I confess Ebn Thaher has left us at a time when we most needed his assistance; but let us bear this unexpected stroke with patience, and let us not forbear to love one another constantly.  Fortify your heart under this misfortune.  The object of our wishes is not to be obtained without trouble.  Let us not be discouraged, but hope that heaven will favour us, and that, after so many afflictions, we shall see a happy accomplishment of our desires.  Adieu.”

While the jeweller was conversing with the prince of Persia, the confidant had time to return to the palace and communicate to her mistress the ill news of Ebn Thaher’s departure.  Schemselnihar immediately wrote this letter, and sent back her confidant with it to the prince of Persia, but she negligently dropped it on her way.

The jeweller was glad to find it, for it furnished him with an opportunity of justifying himself to the confidant, and bringing her to the point he desired.  When he had read it, he perceived the slave seeking for it with the greatest anxiety.  He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but the slave observed him, and running to him, said, “Sir, I have dropped a letter, which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you to restore it.”  The jeweller, pretending not to hear her, continued his way till he came to his house.  He left his door open, that the confidant, who followed him, might enter after him.  She followed him in, and when she came to his apartment, said, “Sir, you can make no use of that letter you have found, and you would not hesitate to return it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is directed.  Besides, allow me to tell you, you cannot honestly keep it.”

Before the jeweller returned her any answer he made her sit down, and then said to her, “Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and is it not directed to the prince of Persia?” The slave, who expected no such question, blushed.  “The question embarrasses you,” continued he; “but I assure you I do not put it rashly:  I could have given you the letter in the street, but I wished you to follow me, on purpose that I might come to some explanation with you.  Is it just, tell me, to impute a misfortune to persons who have no ways contributed towards it?  Yet this you have done, in telling the prince of Persia that it was I who advised Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own safety.  I do not intend to waste time in justifying myself; it is enough that the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence; I will only tell you, that instead of contributing to Ebn Thaher’s departure, I have been extremely afflicted at it, not so much from my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the condition in which he left the prince of Persia, whose correspondence with Schemselnihar he has discovered to me.  As soon as I knew certainly that Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I went and presented myself to the prince, in whose house you found me, to inform him of this event, and to offer to undertake the service in which he had been employed; and provided you put the same confidence in me, that you did in Ebn Thaher, it will be your own fault if you do not make my assistance of use to you.  Inform your mistress of what I have told you, and assure her, that though I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I should not repent of having sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of one another.”

The confidant, after having heard the jeweller with great satisfaction, begged him to pardon the ill opinion she had conceived of him, for the zeal she had for her mistress’s interest.  “I am beyond measure glad,” she added, “that Schemselnihar and the prince have found in you a person so fit to supply Ebn Thaher’s place I will not fail to convince my mistress of the good-will you bear her.”

After the confidant had testified to the jeweller her joy to see him so well disposed to serve Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, the jeweller took the letter out of his bosom, and restored it to her, saying, “Go, carry it quickly to the prince, and return this way that I may see his reply.  Forget not to give him an account of our conversation.”

The confidant took the letter and carried it to the prince, who answered it immediately.  She returned to the jeweller’s house to shew him the answer, which was in these words:

The Prince of Persia’s Answer to Schemselnihar.

“Your precious letter has had a great effect upon me, but not so great as I could have wished.  You endeavour to comfort me for the loss of Ebn Thaher; alas! however sensible I am of this, it is but the least of my troubles.  You know these troubles, and you know also that your presence alone can cure me.  When will the time come that I shall enjoy it without fear of a separation?  How distant does it seem to me! or shall we flatter ourselves that we may ever see it?  You command me to preserve myself; I will obey you, since I have renounced my own will to follow only yours.  Adieu.”

After the jeweller had read this letter, he returned it to the confidant, who said, as she was going away, “I will desire my mistress to put the same confidence in you that she did in Ebn Thaher.  You shall hear of me to-morrow.”  Accordingly, next day she returned with a pleasant countenance.  “Your very looks,” said he to her, “inform me that you have brought Schemselnihar to the point you wished.”  “It is true,” replied the confidant, “and you shall hear how I succeeded.  I found yesterday, on my return, Schemselnihar expecting me with impatience, I gave her the prince of Persia’s letter, and she read it with tears in her eyes.  When she had done, I saw that she had abandoned herself to her usual sorrow.  ‘Madam,’ said I to her, ’it is doubtless Ebn Thaher’s removal that troubles you; but suffer me to conjure you in the name of God, to alarm yourself no farther on this account.  We have found another Ebn Thaher, who offers to oblige you with equal zeal; and, what is yet more important, with greater courage.’  Then I spoke to her of you,” continued the slave, “and acquainted her with the motive which led you to the prince of Persia’s house.  In short, I assured her that you would keep inviolably the secret betwixt her and the prince of Persia, and that you were resolved to favour their amour with all your might.  She seemed to be much relieved by my discourse.  ‘Ah! what obligations,’ said she, ’are the prince of Persia and I under to that honest man you speak of!  I must be acquainted with him and see him, that I may hear from his own mouth what you tell me, and thank him for such unheard-of generosity towards persons on whose account he is no way obliged to interest himself.  The sight of him will give me pleasure, and I shall omit nothing to confirm him in those good sentiments.  Fail not to bring him to me to-morrow.’  Therefore, sir, be so good as to accompany me to the palace.”

The confidant’s proposal perplexed the jeweller.  “Your mistress,” replied he, “must allow me to say that she has not duly considered what she requires of me.  Ebn Thaher’s access to the caliph gave him admission every where; and the officers who knew him, allowed him free access to Schemselnihar’s palace; but as for me, how dare I enter?  You see clearly that it is impossible.  I entreat you to represent to Schemselnihar the reasons which prevent me from affording her that satisfaction; and acquaint her with all the ill consequences that would attend my compliance.  If she considered it ever so little, she would find that it would expose me needlessly to very imminent danger.”

The confidant endeavoured to encourage the jeweller.  “Can you believe,” said she, “that Schemselnihar is so unreasonable as to expose you to the least danger by bringing you to her, from whom she expects such important services?  Consider with yourself that there is not the least appearance of risk.  My mistress and I are too much interested in this affair to involve you in any danger.  You may depend upon me, and leave yourself to my conduit.  After the thing is over you will be the first to confess that your apprehensions were groundless.”

The jeweller yielded to the confidant’s assurances, and rose up to follow her, but notwithstanding his boasted courage, he was seized with such terror that his whole body trembled.  “In your present state,” said she, “I perceive it will be better for you to remain at home, and that Schemselnihar should take other measures to see you.  It is not to be doubted but that to satisfy her desire she will come hither herself:  the case being so, sir, I would not have you go:  I am persuaded it will not be long ere you see her here.”  The confidant foresaw this; for she no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the jeweller’s fear, but she prepared to go to his house.

He received her with all the expressions of profound respect.  When she sat down, being a little fatigued, she unveiled herself, and exhibited to the jeweller such beauty as convinced him that the prince of Persia was excusable in giving his heart to the caliph’s favourite.  Then she saluted the jeweller with a graceful air, and said to him, “I could not hear with what zeal you have engaged in the prince of Persia’s concerns and mine, without immediately determining to express my gratitude in person.  I thank heaven for having so soon made up to us the loss of Ebn Thaher.”

Schemselnihar said many other obliging things to the jeweller, after which she returned to her palace.  The jeweller went immediately to give an account of this visit to the prince of Persia; who said to him, as soon as he saw him, “I have expected you impatiently.  The trusty slave has brought me a letter from her mistress, but it does not relieve me.  Whatever the lovely Schemselnihar says, I dare not hope, and my patience is exhausted; I know not now what measures to pursue; Ebn Thaher’s departure reduces me to despair.  He was my only support:  in him I have lost every thing.  I had flattered myself with some hopes by reason of his access to Schemselnihar.”

After these words, which the prince spoke with so much eagerness, that he gave the jeweller no time to interrupt him, he said to the prince, “No man can take more interest in your affliction than I do; and if you will have patience to hear me you will perceive that I can relieve you.”  Upon this the prince became silent, and listened to him.  “I see,” said the jeweller, “that the only way to give you satisfaction is to devise a plan that will afford you an opportunity of conversing freely with Schemselnihar.  This I wish to procure you, and to-morrow will make the attempt.  You must by no means expose yourself to enter Schemselnihar’s palace; you know by experience the danger of that step.  I know a fitter place for this interview, where you will be safe.”  When the jeweller had finished, the prince embraced him with transports of joy.  “You revive,” said he, “by this promise, a wretched lover, who was condemned to die.  You have fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher; whatever you do will be well performed; I leave myself entirely to your conduct.”

After the prince had thus thanked him for his zeal, the jeweller returned home, and next morning Schemselnihar’s confidant came to him.  He told her that he had given the prince of Persia hopes that he should shortly see her mistress.  “I am come on purpose,” answered she, “to concert measures with you for that end.  I think this house will be convenient enough for their interview.”  “I could receive them very well here,” replied he, “but I think they will have more liberty in another house of mine where no one resides at present; I will immediately furnish it for their reception.”  “There remains nothing then for me to do,” replied the confidant, “but to bring Schemselnihar to consent to this.  I will go and speak to her, and return speedily with an answer.”

She was as diligent as her promise, and returning to the jeweller, told him that her mistress would not fail to keep the appointment in the evening.  In the mean time she gave him a purse, and told him it was to prepare a collation.  He carried her immediately to the house where the lovers were to meet, that she might know whither to bring her mistress:  and when she was gone, he went to borrow from his friends gold and silver plate, tapestry, rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he furnished the house very magnificently; and when he had put all things in order, went to the prince of Persia.

You may easily conceive the prince of Persia’s joy, when the jeweller told him that he came to conduct him to the house he had prepared to receive him and Schemselnihar.  This news made him forget all his former trouble.  He put on a magnificent robe, and went without his retinue along with the jeweller; who led him through several by-streets that nobody might observe them, and at last brought him to the house, where they conversed together until Schemselnihar’s arrival.

They did not wait long for this passionate lover.  She came after evening prayer, with her confidant, and two other slaves.  It is impossible to express the excess of joy that seized these two lovers when they saw one another.  They sat down together upon a sofa, looking upon one another for some time, without being able to speak, they were so much overjoyed:  but when their speech returned, they soon made up for their silence.  They said to each other so many tender things, as made the jeweller, the confidant, and the two other slaves weep.  The jeweller however restrained his tears, to attend the collation, which he brought in himself.  The lovers ate and drank little, after which they sat down again upon the sofa:  Schemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other instrument, The jeweller, who took care to provide all that could please her, brought her a lute:  she spent some time in tuning it, and then sung.

While Schemselnihar was charming the prince of Persia, and expressing her passion by words composed extempore, a great noise was heard; and immediately the slave, whom the jeweller had brought with him, came in great alarm to tell him that some people were breaking in at the gate; that he asked who they were, but instead of any answer the blows were redoubled.  The jeweller, being alarmed, left Schemselnihar and the prince to inform himself of the truth of this intelligence.  No sooner had he got to the court, than he perceived, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, a company of men armed with spears and cimeters, who had broken the gate, and came directly towards him.  He stood close to a wall for fear of his life, and saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them.  Finding he could give no great assistance to the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he contented himself with lamenting their fate, and fled for refuge to a neighbour’s house, who was not yet gone to bed.  He did not doubt but this unexpected violence was by the caliph’s order, who, he thought, had been informed of his favourite’s meeting the prince of Persia there.  He heard a great noise in his house, which continued till midnight:  and when all was quiet, as he thought, he desired his neighbour to lend him a cimeter; and being thus armed, went on till he came to the gate of his own house:  he entered the court full of fear, and perceived a man, who asked him who he was; he knew by his voice that it was his own slave.  “How did you manage,” said he, “to avoid being taken by the watch?” “Sir,” answered the slave, “I hid myself in a corner of the court, and I went out as soon as I heard the noise.  But it was not the watch who broke into your house:  they were robbers, who within these few days robbed another house in this neighbourhood.  They doubtless had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and had that in view.”

The jeweller thought his slave’s conjecture probable enough.  He entered the house, and saw that the robbers had taken all the furniture out of the apartment where he received Schemselnihar and her lover, that they had also carried off the gold and silver plate, and, in a word, had left nothing.  Perceiving this desolation, he exclaimed, “O heaven!  I am irrecoverably ruined!  What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make when I shall tell them that the robbers have broken into my house, and robbed me of all they had generously lent me?  I shall never be able to make up their loss.  Besides, what is become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia?  This business will be so public, that it will be impossible but it must reach the caliph’s ears.  He will get notice of this meeting, and I shall fall a sacrifice to his fury.”  The slave, who was very much attached to him, endeavoured to comfort him.  “As to Schemselnihar,” said he, “the robbers would probably consent themselves with stripping her, and you have reason to think that she is retired to her palace with her slaves.  The prince of Persia too has probably escaped, so that you have reason to hope the caliph will never know of this adventure.  As for the loss your friends have sustained, that is a misfortune that you could not avoid.  They know very well the robbers are numerous, that they have not only pillaged the house I have already spoken of, but many other houses of the principal noblemen of the court:  and they are not ignorant that, notwithstanding the orders given to apprehend them, nobody has been yet able to seize any of them.  You will be acquitted by restoring your friends the value of the things that are stolen, and, blessed be God, you will have enough left.”

While they were waiting for day-light, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the street door, which was broken, as well as he could:  after which he returned to his usual residence with his slave, making melancholy reflections on what had happened.  “Ebn Thaher,” said he to himself, “has been wiser than I; he foresaw the misfortune into which I have blindly thrown myself:  would to God I had never meddled in this intrigue, which will, perhaps, cost me my life!”

It was scarcely day when the report of the robbery spread through the city, and a great many of his friends and neighbours came to his house to express their concern for his misfortune; but were curious to know the particulars.  He thanked them for their affection, and had at least the consolation, that he heard no one mention Schemselnihar or the prince of Persia:  which made him believe they were at their houses, or in some secure place.

When the jeweller was alone, his servants brought him something to eat, but he had no appetite.  About noon one of his slaves came to tell him there was a man at the gate, whom he knew not, that desired to speak with him.  The jeweller, not choosing to receive a stranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak to him.  “Though you do not know me,” said the man; “I know you, and I am come to talk to you about an important affair.”  The jeweller desired him to come in.  “No,” answered the stranger “if you please, rather take the trouble to go with me to your other house.”  “How know you,” asked the jeweller, “that I have another house?” “I know very well,” answered the stranger; “follow me, and do not fear any thing:  I have something to communicate which will please you.”  The jeweller went immediately with him; and after he had considered by the way how the house they were going to had been robbed, he said to him that it was not fit to receive him.

When they were before the house, and the stranger saw the gate half broken down, he said to the jeweller, “I see you have told me the truth.  I will conduct you to a place where we shall be better accommodated.”  When he had thus spoken, he went on, and walked all the rest of the day without stopping.  The jeweller being fatigued with his walk, vexed to see night approach, and that the stranger went on without telling him where he was going, began to lose his patience, when they came to a path which led to the Tigris.  As soon as they reached the river, they embarked in a little boat, and went over.  The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he had never been before; and after he had brought him through several by-streets, he stopped at a gate, which he opened.  He made the jeweller go in before him, he then shut and bolted the gate, with a huge iron bolt, and conducted him to a chamber, where there were ten other men, all of them as great strangers to the jeweller as he who had brought him hither.

These ten men received him without much ceremony.  They desired him to sit down, of which he had great need; for he was not only out of breath with walking so far, but his terror at finding himself with people whom he thought he had reason to fear would have disabled him from standing.  They waited for their leader to go to supper, and as soon as he came it was served up.  They washed their hands, obliged the jeweller to do the like, and to sit at table with them.  After supper the men asked him, if he knew whom he spoke to?  He answered, “No; and that he knew not the place he was in.”  “Tell us your last night’s adventure,” said they to him, “and conceal nothing from us.”  The jeweller, being astonished at this request, answered, “Gentlemen, it is probable you know it already.”  “That is true,” replied they; “the young man and the young lady, who were at your house yesternight, told it us; but we would know it from your own mouth.”  The jeweller needed no more to inform him that he spoke to the robbers who had broken into and plundered his house.  “Gentlemen,” said he, “I am much troubled for that young man and lady; can you give me any tidings of them?”

Upon the jeweller’s inquiry of the thieves, if they knew any thing of the young man and the young lady, they answered, “Be not concerned for them, they are safe and well,” so saying, they shewed him two closets, where they assured him they were separately shut up.  They added, “We are informed you alone know what relates to them, which we no sooner came to understand, but we shewed them all imaginable respect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated them with all possible kindness on your account.  We answer for the same,” proceeded they, “for your own person, you may put unlimited confidence in us.”

The jeweller being encouraged by this assurance, and overjoyed to hear that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage the robbers yet farther in their interest.  He commended them, flattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions.  “Gentlemen,” said he, “I must confess I have not the honour to know you, yet it is no small happiness to me that I am not wholly unknown to you; and I can never be sufficiently grateful for the favours which that knowledge has procured me at your hands.  Not to mention your great humanity, I am fully persuaded now, that persons of your character are capable of keeping a secret faithfully, and none are so fit to undertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good issue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity.  Confiding in these qualities, which are so much your due, I hesitate not to tell you my whole history, with that of those two persons you found in my house, with all the fidelity you desire me.”

After the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the confidence of the robbers, he made no scruple to relate to them the whole amour of the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the beginning of it to the time he had received them into his house.

The robbers were greatly astonished at all the particulars they heard, and could not forbear exclaiming, “How! is it possible that the young man should be the illustrious Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia, and the young lady the fair and celebrated beauty Schemselnihar?” The jeweller assured them nothing was more certain, and that they need not think it strange, that persons of so distinguished a character should wish not to be known.

Upon this assurance of their quality, the robbers went immediately, one after another, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring their pardon, and protesting that nothing of the kind would have happened to them, had they been informed of the quality of their persons before they broke into the house; and that they would by their future conduct endeavour to make amends for the crime they had thus ignorantly committed.  Then turning to the jeweller, they told him, they were heartily sorry they could not restore to him all that had been taken from him, part of it being no longer in their possession, but as for what remained, if he would content himself with his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hand.

The jeweller was overjoyed at the favour done him, and after the robbers had delivered to him the plate, they required of the prince, Schemselnihar, and him, to promise them upon oath, that they would not betray them, and they would carry them to a place whence they might easily return to their respective homes.  The prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, replied, that they might rely on their words, but since they desired an oath of them, they solemnly swore not to discover them.  The thieves, satisfied with this, immediately went out with them.

On the way, the jeweller, uneasy at not seeing the confidant and the two slaves, came up to Schemselnihar, and begged her to inform him what was become of them.  She answered, she knew nothing of them, and that all she could tell him was, that she was carried away from his house, ferried over the river, and brought to the place from whence they were just come.

Schemselnihar and the jeweller had no farther conversation; they let the robbers conduit them with the prince to the river’s side, when the robbers immediately took boat, and carried them over to the opposite bank.

While the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller were landing, they heard the noise of the horse patrol coming towards them, just as the boat had conveyed the robbers back.

The commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, who they were, and whence they had come so late?  Frightened as they were, and apprehensive of saying any thing that might prejudice them, they could not speak; but at length it was necessary they should.  The jeweller’s mind being most at ease, he said, “Sir, I can assure you, we are respectable people of the city.  The persons who have just landed us, and are now returned to the other side of the water, are thieves, who having last night broke open the house where we were, pillaged it, and afterwards carried us to their quarters, whence by fair words, we prevailed on them to let us have our liberty; and they brought us hither.  They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from us.”  At which words he shewed the parcel of plate he had recovered.

The commander, not satisfied with what the jeweller had told him, came up to him and the prince of Persia, and looking steadfastly at them, said, “Tell me truly, who is this lady?  How came you to know her?”

These questions embarrassed them so much that neither of them could answer; till at length Schemselnihar extricated them from their difficulty, and taking the commander aside, told him who she was; which he no sooner heard, than he alighted with expressions of great respect and politeness, and ordered his men to bring two boats.

When the boats were come, he put Schemselnihar into one, and the prince of Persia and the jeweller into the other, with two of his people in each boat; with orders to accompany each of them whithersoever they were bound.  The boats took different routes, but we shall at present speak only of that which contained the prince and the jeweller.

The prince, to save his guides trouble, bade them land the jeweller at his house, naming the place.  The guide, by this direction, stopped just before the caliph’s palace, which put both him and the jeweller into great alarm; for although they had heard the commander’s orders to his men, they could not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard, to be brought before the caliph next morning.

This nevertheless was not the intention of the guides.  For after they had landed them, they, by their master’s command, recommended them to an officer of the caliph’s guard who assigned them two soldiers to conduct them by land to the prince’s house, which was at some distance from the river.  They arrived there, but so tired and weary that they could hardly move.

The prince being come home, with the fatigue of his journey, and this misadventure to himself and Schemselnihar, which deprived him of all hope of ever seeing her more, fell into a swoon on his sofa.  While the greatest part of his servants were endeavoring to recover him, the rest gathered about the jeweller, and begged him to tell them what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had occasioned them such inexpressible uneasiness.

While the greatest part of the prince’s domestics were endeavouring to recover him from his swoon, others of them got about the jeweller, desiring to know what had happened to their lord.  The jeweller, who took care to discover nothing that was not proper for them to know, told them that it was an extraordinary case, but that it was not a time to relate it, and that they would do better to go and assist the prince.  By good fortune the prince came to himself that moment, and those that but just before required his history with so much earnestness retreated to a respectful distance.

Although the prince had in some measure recovered his recollection, he continued so weak that he could not open his mouth to speak.  He answered only by signs, even to his nearest relations, when they spoke to him.  He remained in this condition till next morning, when the jeweller came to take leave of him.  He could answer only by a movement of his eyes, and holding out his right hand; but when he saw he was laden with a bundle of plate, which the thieves had returned to him, he made a sign to his servants that they should take it and carry it to his house.

The jeweller had been expected with great impatience by his family the day he departed with the stranger; but now he was quite given over, and it was no longer doubted but some disaster had befallen him.  His wife, children, and servants, were in the greatest alarm, and lamenting him.  When he arrived, their joy was excessive; yet they were troubled to see that he was so much altered in the short interval, that he was hardly to be known.  This was occasioned by the great fatigue of the preceding day, and the fears he had undergone all night, which would not permit him to sleep.  Finding himself much indisposed, he continued at home two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends to visit him.

The third day, finding himself something better, he thought he might recover strength by going abroad to take the air; and therefore went to the shop of a rich merchant of his acquaintance, with whom he continued long in conversation.  As he was rising to take leave of his friend to return home, he observed a woman making a sign to him, whom he presently knew to be the confidant of Schemselnihar.  Between fear and joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she followed him, as he feared she would, the place they were in being by no means proper to converse in.  As he quickened his pace, she, not being able to overtake him, every now and then called out to him to stay.

He heard her; but after what had happened, he did not think fit to speak to her in public, for fear of giving cause to suspect that he was connected with Schemselnihar.  It was known to every body in Bagdad, that this woman belonged to her, and executed all her little commissions.  He continued the same pace, and at length reached a mosque, where he knew but few people came.  He entered, and she followed him, and they had a long conversation together, without any body overhearing them.

Both the jeweller and confidant expressed much joy at seeing each other, after the strange adventure of the robbers, and their reciprocal apprehension for each other, without regarding their own particular persons.

The jeweller wished her to relate to him how she escaped with the two slaves, and what she knew of Schemselnihar from the time he lost sight of her; but so great was her eagerness to know what had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that he found himself obliged to satisfy her.  “Having given you the detail you desired,” said he, “oblige me in your turn,” which she did in the following manner.

“When I first saw the robbers, I hastily imagined that they were soldiers of the caliph’s guard, and that the caliph being informed of Schemselnihar’s going out, had sent them to put her, the prince, and all of us to death.  Under this impression I immediately got up to the terrace of your house, when the thieves entered the apartment where the prince and Schemselnihar were, and I was soon after followed by that lady’s two slaves.  From terrace to terrace, we came at last to a house of very honest people, who received us with much civility, and with whom we lodged that night.

“Next morning, after thanking the master of the house for our good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar’s palace, where we entered in great disorder and distress, because we could not learn the fate of the two unfortunate lovers.  The other women of Schemselnihar were astonished to see me return without their lady.  We told them, we had left her at the house of one of her female friends, and that she would send for us when she wished to come home; with which excuse they seemed well satisfied.

“For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness, and when night arrived, opening a small private gate, I espied a little boat on the canal which seemed driven by the stream.  I called to the waterman, and desired him to row up each side of the river, and look if he could not see a lady; and if he found her, to bring her along with him.  The two slaves and I waited impatiently for his return, and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern.  When the boat was come up, the two men helped the woman to rise, and then it was I knew her to be Schemselnihar.  I cannot express my joy at seeing her.

“I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat; she had great need of my assistance, for she could hardly stand.  When she was landed, she whispered me in a tone expressive of her affliction, and bade me go and take a purse of one thousand pieces of gold and give it to the two soldiers that had accompanied her.  I left her to the care of the two slaves to support her, and having ordered the two soldiers to wait for me a moment, I took the purse, and returned instantly; I gave it to them, and having paid the waterman, shut the door.

“I then followed my lady, and overtook her before she had reached her chamber.  We immediately undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been, before she became so ill that for the whole of the night we almost despaired of her life.  The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been greatly fatigued, and wanted rest.  The other two women and I gave her all the assistance in our power; but we should have given over every hope of her recovery, had I not at last perceived that the wine which we every now and then gave her had a sensible effect in recruiting her strength.  By importunity we at length prevailed with her to eat.

“When she recovered the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only wept, groaned, and sighed, I begged of her to tell me how she had escaped out of the hands of the robbers.  ’Why would you require of me,’ said she, with a profound sigh, ’to renew my grief?  Would to God the robbers had taken away my life, rather than have preserved it; my misfortunes would then have had an end, whereas I live but to increase my sufferings.’

“Madam,’ I replied, ’I beg you would not refuse me this favour.  You cannot but know that the wretched feel a consolation in relating their greatest misfortunes; what I ask would alleviate yours, if you would have the goodness to gratify me.’

“‘Hear then,’ said she, ’the most afflicting adventure that could possibly have happened to one so deeply in love as myself, who considered myself as at the utmost point of my wishes.  You must know, when I first saw the robbers enter, sword in hand, I considered it as the last moment of our lives.  But death was not an object of regret, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia.  However, instead of murdering us, as I expected, two of the robbers were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods they found in the house.  When they had done, and got their bundles upon their backs, they went out, and took us with them.

“’As we went along, one of those that had charge of us demanded of me who I was?  I answered, I was a dancer.  He put the same question to the prince, who replied, he was a citizen.

“’When we had reached the place of our destination, a new alarm seized us.  They gathered about us, and after having considered my dress, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to suspect I had disguised my quality.”  “Dancers,” said they, “do not use to be dressed as you are.  Tell us truly who you are?”

“’When they saw I made no reply, they asked the prince once more who he was, for they told him they plainly perceived he was not the person he pretended to be.  He did not satisfy them much more than I had done; he only told them he came to see the jeweller, naming him, who was the owner of the house where they found us.”  “I know this jeweller,” replied one of the rogues, who seemed to have some authority over the rest:  “I owe him some obligations, which he knows nothing of, and I take upon me to bring him hither to-morrow morning; but you must not expect,” continued he, “to be released till he arrives and tells us who you are; in the mean time, I promise you there shall be no injury offered to you.”

“The jeweller was brought next morning, who thinking to oblige us, as he really did, declared to the robbers the whole truth.  They immediately came and asked my pardon, and I believe did the like to the prince, who was shut up in another room.  They protested to me, they would not have broken open the house where we were, had they known it was the jeweller’s.  They soon after took us (the prince, the jeweller, and myself), carried us to the river side, put us aboard a boat, and rowed us across the water; but we were no sooner landed, than a party of horse-patrol came up to us.

“The robbers fled; I took the commander aside, and told him my name, and that the night before I had been seized by robbers, who forced me along with them; but having been told who I was, released me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account.  He alighted out of respect to me; and expressing great joy at being able to oblige me, caused two boats to be brought:  putting me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, he escorted me hither:  but what is become of the prince and his friend I cannot tell.

“‘I trust,’ added she, melting into tears, ’no harm has befallen them since our separation; and I do not doubt but the prince’s concern for me is equal to mine for him.  The jeweller, to whom we have been so much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss he has sustained on our account.  Fail not, therefore, to take two purses of a thousand pieces of gold in each, and carry them to him to-morrow morning in my name, and be sure to inquire after the prince’s welfare.’

“When my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to the last article of inquiring into the prince’s welfare, to persuade her to endeavour to triumph over her passion, after the danger she had so lately escaped almost by miracle.  ’Make me no answer,’ said she, ‘but do what I require.’

“I was obliged to be silent, and am come hither to obey her commands.  I have been at your house, but not finding you at home, and uncertain as I was of where you might be found, was about going to the prince of Persia; but not daring to attempt the journey, I have left the two purses with a particular friend, and if you will wait here, I will go and fetch them immediately.”

The confidant soon returned to the jeweller in the mosque, where she had left him, and giving him the two purses, bade him out of them satisfy his friends.  “They are much more than is necessary,” said he, “but I dare not refuse the present from so good and generous a lady to her most humble servant; I beseech you to assure her from me, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance of her goodness.”  He then agreed with the confidant, that she should find him at the house where she had first seen him, whenever she had occasion to impart any thing from Schemselnihar, or to hear any tidings of the prince of Persia:  and so they parted.

The jeweller returned home well pleased, not only that he had got wherewithal so fully to satisfy his friends, but also to think that no person in Bagdad could possibly know that the prince and Schemselnihar had been in his other house when it was robbed.  It is true, he had acquainted the thieves with it, but on their secrecy he thought he might very well depend.  Next morning he visited the friends who had obliged him, and found no difficulty in satisfying them.  He had money in hand to furnish his other house, in which he placed servants.  Thus he forgot all his past danger, and the next evening waited on the prince of Persia.

The prince’s domestics told the jeweller, that he came very opportunely, as the prince, since he had parted with him, was reduced to such a state that his life was in danger.  They introduced him softly into his chamber, and he found him in a condition that excited his pity.  He was lying on his bed, with his eyes closed; but when the jeweller saluted him, and exhorted him to take courage, he recollected him, opened his eyes, and gave him a look that sufficiently declared the greatness of his affliction, infinitely beyond what he felt after he first saw Schemselnihar.  He grasped him by the hand, to testify his friendship, and told him, in a feeble voice, that he was extremely obliged to him for coming so far to visit one so unhappy and wretched.

“Prince,” replied the jeweller, “mention not, I beseech you, any obligations you owe to me.  I wish the good offices I have endeavoured to do you had had a better effect; but at present, let us talk only of your health; which, in the state I see you, I fear you greatly injure by unreasonably abstaining from proper nourishment.”

The prince’s servants took this opportunity to tell him, it was with the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on their master to take the smallest refreshment, and that for some time he had taken nothing.  This obliged the jeweller to entreat the prince to let his servants bring him something to eat.

After the prince had, through the persuasion of the jeweller, eaten more than he had hitherto done, he commanded the servants to leave him alone with his friend.  When the room was clear, he said, “Besides the misfortune that distracts me, I have been exceedingly concerned to think what a loss you have sustained on my account; and it is but just I should make you some recompence.  But before I do this, after begging your pardon a thousand times, I conjure you to tell me whether you have learnt any tidings of Schemselnihar, since I had the misfortune to be parted from her.”

Here the jeweller, instructed by the confidant, related to him all that he knew of Schemselnihar’s arrival at her palace, her state of health from that time till she recovered, and how she had sent her confidant to him to inquire after his welfare.

To all this the prince replied only by sighs and tears.  He made an effort to get up, and calling his servants, went himself to his wardrobe, and having caused several bundles of rich furniture and plate to be packed up, he ordered them to be carried to the jeweller’s house.

The jeweller would fain have declined this kind offer; but although he represented that Schemselnihar had already made him more than sufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince would be obeyed.  The jeweller was therefore obliged to make all possible acknowledgments, and protested how much he was confounded at his highness’s liberality.  He would then have taken his leave, but the prince desired him to stay, and they passed good part of the night in conversation.

Next morning the jeweller waited again on the prince, who made him sit down by him.  “You know,” said he, “there is an end proposed in all things:  that which the lover proposes, is to enjoy the beloved object in spite of all opposition.  If once he loses that hope, he must not think to live.  Such is my hard case; for twice when I have been at the very point of fulfilling my desires, I have suddenly been torn from her I loved in the most cruel manner imaginable.  It remains for me only to think of death, and I had sought it, but that our holy religion forbids suicide; but I need not anticipate it; I need not wait long.”  Here he stopped, and vented his passion in groans, sighs, sobs, and tears, which flowed abundantly.

The jeweller, who knew no better way of diverting him from his despair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving him some shadow of hope, told him, he feared the confidant might be come from her lady, and therefore it would not be proper to stay any longer from home.  “I will let you go,” said the prince, “but conjure you, that if you see her, you recommend to her to assure Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do shortly, I shall love her to the last moment, even in the grave.”

The jeweller returned home, and waited in expectation of seeing the confidant, who came some hours after, but all in tears, and in great affliction.  The jeweller alarmed, asked her what was the matter?  She answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself, and he, were all ruined.  “Hear the sad news,” said she, “as it was told me just upon my entering the palace after I had left you.

“Schemselnihar had for some fault chastised one of the slaves you saw with her when you met in your other house.  The slave, enraged at the ill treatment, ran immediately away, and finding the gate open, went out; so that we have just reason to believe she has discovered all to an eunuch of the guard, who gave her protection.

“But this is not all; the other slave her companion has fled too, and has taken refuge in the caliph’s palace.  So that we may well fear she has borne her part in this discovery:  for just as I came away, the caliph had sent twenty of his eunuchs for Schemselnihar, who have carried her to the palace.  I just found means to come and tell you this.  I know not what has passed, yet I fear no good; but above all, I recommend to you to keep the secret inviolate.”

The confidant added to what she had related before to the jeweller, that it was proper he should go immediately and acquaint the prince with the whole affair, that he might be prepared for every event, and keep faithful to the common cause.  She went away in haste, without staying for any answer.

What answer could the jeweller have made in the condition he was in?  He stood motionless as if thunderstruck.  He found, however, that there was no time to be lost, and immediately went to give the prince information.  He addressed him with an air, that sufficiently shewed the bad news he brought.  “Prince,” said he, “arm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive the most terrible shock that ever you had to encounter.”

“Tell me in a few words,” replied the prince, “what is the matter, without keeping me in suspense; I am, if necessary, prepared to die.”

Then the jeweller repeated all that he had learnt from the confidant.  “You see,” continued he, “your destruction is inevitable.  Rise, save yourself by flight, for the time is precious.  You, of all men, must not expose yourself to the anger of the caliph, and, less than any, confess in the midst of torture.”

At these words the prince was ready to expire through grief, affliction, and fear.  However, he recovered himself, and asked the jeweller what resolution he would advise him to take in this conjuncture, every moment of which ought to be employed.  The jeweller told him, he thought nothing remained, but that he should immediately take horse, and hasten away towards Anbar, that he might get thither before day.  “Take what servants and swift horses you think necessary,” continued he, “and suffer me to escape with you.”

The prince, seeing nothing more to be done, immediately gave orders to prepare such an equipage as would be least troublesome; took money and jewels, and having taken leave of his mother, departed with the jeweller and such servants as he had chosen.

They travelled all night without stopping, till at length, both their horses and themselves being spent with so long a journey, they halted to rest themselves.

They had hardly alighted before they found themselves surrounded and assaulted by a band of robbers.  They defended their lives for some time courageously; but at length the prince’s servants being all killed, both he and the jeweller were obliged to yield at discretion.  The robbers, however, spared their dives, but after they had seized the horses and baggage, they took away their clothes and left them naked.

When the thieves were gone, the prince said to the jeweller, “What think you of our adventure and condition?  Had I not better have tarried in Bagdad, and awaited my death?” “Prince,” replied the jeweller, “it is the decree of Heaven that we should thus suffer.  It has pleased God to add affliction to affliction and we must not murmur, but receive his chastisements with submission.  Let us stay no longer here, but seek for some retreat where we may perhaps be relieved.”

“Let me die,” said the prince; “for what signifies it whether I die here or elsewhere.  Perhaps while we are talking, Schemselnihar is no more, and why should I endeavour to live after she is dead!” The jeweller, by his entreaty, at length prevailed on him, and they had not gone far before they came to a mosque, which was open; they entered it, and passed there the remainder of the night.

At day-break a man came into the mosque.  When he had ended his prayer, as he turned about to go away, he perceived the prince and jeweller, who were sitting in a corner.  He came up to them, and after having saluted them with a great deal of civility, said, “I perceive you are strangers.”

The jeweller answered, “You are not deceived.  We have been robbed to-night in coming from Bagdad, as you may see, and have retired hither for shelter, but we know not to whom to apply.”  “If you think fit to accompany me to my house,” answered the man, “I will give you all the assistance in my power.”

Upon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and whispered, “This man, as you perceive, sir, does not know us, and we have reason to fear that somebody else may come who does.  We cannot, I think, refuse his offer.”  “Do as you please,” said the prince; “I am willing to be guided by your discretion.”

The man observing the prince and jeweller consulting together, and thinking they made some difficulty to accept his offer, asked them if they were resolved what to do?  The jeweller answered “We are ready to follow you; all we hesitate about is that we are ashamed to appear thus naked.”

Fortunately the man had it in his power to cover them sufficiently till they could get to his house.  As soon as they had entered, he brought a very handsome suit for each of them.  As he thought they must be hungry, and might wish to be alone, he had several dishes brought to them by a slave; but they ate little, especially the prince who was so dejected and dispirited, that he gave the jeweller cause to fear he would die.  Their host visited them several times in the course of the day, and in the evening, as he knew they wanted rest, he left them early.  But he was no sooner in bed, than the jeweller was forced to call him again to assist at the death of the prince of Persia.  He found him breathe short, and with difficulty, which gave him reason to fear he had but few minutes to live.  Coming near him, the prince said, “It is all over, and I am glad you are witness of my last words.  I quit life with a great deal of satisfaction; I need not tell you the reason, for you know it already.  All my concern is, that I cannot die in the arms of my dear mother, who has always loved me tenderly, and for whom I had a reciprocal affection.  Let her know how much I was concerned at this, and request her in my name to have my body removed to Bagdad, that she may have an opportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my departed soul with her prayers.”  He then took notice of the master of the house, and thanked him for his kindness in taking him in; and after desiring him to let his body rest with him till it should be conveyed to Bagdad, he expired.

The day after the prince’s death, the jeweller took the opportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and arrived there in safety.  He first went home to change his clothes, and then hastened to the prince’s palace, where every body was alarmed at not seeing the prince with him.  He desired them to acquaint the prince’s mother that he wished to speak with her, and it was not long before he was introduced to her in a hall, with several of her women about her.  “Madam,” said he to her, with an air that sufficiently denoted the ill news he brought, “God preserve you, and shower down upon you the choicest of his blessings.  You cannot be ignorant that he alone disposes of us at his pleasure.”

The princess would not permit him to proceed, but exclaimed, “Alas! you bring me the news of my son’s death?” She and her women at the same time wept and sobbed loudly.  At length she checked her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue without concealing from her the least circumstance of such a melancholy separation.  He satisfied her, and when he had done, she farther demanded of him, if her son the prince had not given him in charge something more particular in his last moments?  He assured her his last words were, that it was to him the most afflicting circumstance that he must die so far distant from his dear mother, and that the only thing he wished was, that she would have his corpse transported to Bagdad.  Accordingly early next morning the princess set out with her women and great part of her slaves, to bring her son’s body to her own palace.

When the jeweller, whom she had detained, had seen her depart, he returned home very sad and melancholy, at the reflection that so accomplished and amiable a prince was thus cut off in the flower of his age.

As he walked towards his house, dejected and musing, he saw a woman standing before him.  He recognized her to be Schemselnihar’s confidant.  At the sight of her, his tears began to flow afresh but he said nothing to her; and going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down; when the jeweller beginning the conversation, asked the confidant, with a deep sigh, if she had heard of the death of the prince of Persia, and if it was on his account that she grieved.  “Alas!” answered she, “What! is that charming prince then dead?  He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar.  Beauteous souls,” continued she, “in whatsoever place ye now are, ye must be happy that your loves will no more be interrupted.  Your bodies were an obstacle to your wishes; but Heaven has delivered you from them; ye may now form the closest union.”

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar’s death, and had not reflected that the confidant was in mourning, suffered fresh grief at this intelligence.  “Is Schemselnihar then dead?” cried he.  “She is,” replied the confidant, weeping afresh, “and it is for her I wear these weeds.  The circumstances of her death were extraordinary,” continued she, “and deserve to be known to you:  but before I give you an account of them, I beg you to acquaint me with those of the prince of Persia, whom, with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.”

The jeweller then gave the confidant the information she desired; and after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince’s mother to bring her son’s body to Bagdad, she began and said, “You have not forgotten that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace.  He had, as we had every reason to believe, been informed of the amour betwixt her and the prince by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart.  You may imagine, he would be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar’s conduct, and give striking proofs of his jealousy and of his impending vengeance against the prince.  But this was by no means the case.  He pitied Schemselnihar, and in some measure blamed himself for what had happened, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without being attended by his eunuchs.  This is the only conclusion that could be drawn from his extraordinary behavior towards her, as you will hear.

“He received her with an open countenance; and when he observed that the melancholy which oppressed her did not lessen her beauty (for she appeared thus before him without surprise or fear), with a goodness worthy himself, he said ’Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your appearing before me thus with an air which gives me infinite pain.  You must needs be sensible how much I have always loved you, and be convinced of the sincerity of my passion by the continued demonstrations I have given of it.  I can never change my mind, for I love you more than ever.  You have enemies, Schemselnihar,’ proceeded he, ’and those enemies have insinuated things against your conduct, but all they have said against you has not made the least impression upon me.  Shake off then this melancholy, and prepare to entertain me this night with some amusing conversation, after your accustomed manner.’  He said many other obliging things to her, and then desired her to step into a magnificent apartment near her own, and wait for him.

“The afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the caliph’s kindness; but the more she thought herself obliged to him, the more she was concerned that she was so far removed, perhaps for ever, from her prince, without whom she could not live.

“This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar,” continued the confidant, “took place whilst I was come to speak to you, and I learned the particulars of it from my companions who were present.  But I had no sooner left you,” proceeded she, “than I went to my dear mistress again, and was eye-witness to what happened in the evening.  I found her in the apartment I told you of; and as she though I came from you, she drew near me, and whispering me, said, ’I am much obliged to you for the service you have done me, but I feel it will be the last.’  She said no more; but I was not in a place proper to offer any thing to comfort her.

“The caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments which her women played upon, and the collation was immediately served up.  He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down with him on the sofa; she put such a force upon herself to please him, that she expired a few minutes after.  In short, she was hardly set down, when she fell backwards.  The caliph believed she had only fainted, and so we all thought; but she never recovered, and in this manner we lost her.

“The caliph did her the honour to weep over her, not being able to refrain from tears; and before he left the room ordered all the musical instruments to be broken; this was immediately done.  I stayed with her corpse all night, and next morning washed and dressed her for her funeral, bathing her with my tears.  The caliph had her interred in a magnificent tomb he had erected for her in her lifetime, in a place she had desired to be buried in.  Now since you tell me,” said she, “the prince of Persia’s body is to be brought to Bagdad, I will use my best endeavours that he shall be interred in the same tomb.”

The jeweller was much surprised at this resolution of the confidant, and said, “Certainly you do not consider that the caliph will never suffer this?” “You think the thing impossible,” replied she; “it is not.  You will alter your opinion when I tell you that the caliph has given liberty to all her slaves, with a pension to each for their support.  He has committed to me the care and keeping of my mistress’s tomb, and allotted me an annual income for that purpose, and for my maintenance.  Besides, the caliph, who was not ignorant of the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince, as I have already told you, without being offended, will not be sorry if after her death he be buried with her.”  To all this the jeweller had not a word to say.  He earnestly entreated the confidant to conduct him to her mistress’s tomb, that he might say his prayers over her.  When he came in sight of it, he was not a little surprised to find a vast concourse of people of both sexes, who were come thither from all parts of Bagdad.  As he could not come near the tomb, he said his prayers at a distance; and then going to the confidant, who was waiting hard by, said to her, “I am now so far from thinking that what you proposed cannot be put in execution, that you and I need only publish abroad what we know of the amour of this unfortunate couple, and how the prince died much about the same time with his mistress.  Before his corpse arrives, all Bagdad will concur to desire that two such faithful lovers, whom nothing could divide in affection whilst they lived, should not be separated when dead.”  It happened as he said; for as soon as it was known that the corpse was within a day’s journey of the city, an infinite number of people went above twenty miles to meet it, and afterwards walked before it till it came to the city gate; where the confidant, waiting for that purpose, presented herself before the prince’s mother, and begged of her in the name of the whole city, who earnestly desired it, that she would be pleased to consent that the bodies of the two lovers, who had but one heart whilst they lived, from the time their mutual passion commenced, might be buried in the same tomb.  The princess immediately consented; and the corpse of the prince, instead of being deposited in his own burying-place, was laid by Schemselnihar’s side, after it had been carried along in procession at the head of an infinite number of people of all ranks.  From that time all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers from all parts of the world where the Mahummedan religion prevails have held that tomb in the highest veneration, and pay their devotions at it.

The Story of the Loves of Kummir Al Zummaun, Prince of
the Isles of the Children of Khaledan, and of Badoura,
Princess of China.

About twenty days’ sail from the coast of Persia, there are islands in the main ocean called the Islands of the Children of Khaledan.  These islands are divided into four great provinces, which have all of them very flourishing and populous cities, forming together a powerful kingdom.  It was formerly governed by a king named Shaw Zummaun, who had four lawful wives, all daughters of kings, and sixty concubines.

Shaw Zummaun thought himself the most happy monarch of the world, on account of his peaceful and prosperous reign.  One thing only disturbed his happiness; which was, that he was advanced in years, and had no children, though he had so many wives.  He knew not to what to attribute this barrenness; and what increased his affliction was, that he was likely to leave his kingdom without a successor.  He dissembled his discontent, and this dissimulation only heightened his uneasiness.  At length he broke silence; and one day after he had complained bitterly of his misfortune to his grand vizier, he asked him if he knew any remedy for it?

That wise minister replied, “If what your majesty requires of me had depended on the ordinary rules of human wisdom, you had soon had an answer to your satisfaction; but my experience and knowledge fall far short of your question.  It is to God only that we can apply in cases of this kind.  In the midst of our prosperities, which often tempt us to forget him, he is pleased to mortify us in some instance, that we may address our thoughts to him, acknowledge his omnipotence, and ask of him what we ought to expect from him alone.  Your majesty has subjects,” proceeded he “who make a profession of honouring and serving God, and suffering great hardships for his sake; to them I would advise you to have recourse, and engage them, by alms, to join their prayers with yours.  Perhaps some one among them may be so pure and pleasing to God as to obtain a hearing for your prayers.”

Shaw Zummaun approved this advice, and thanked his vizier.  He immediately caused alms to be given to every community of these holy men in his dominions:  and having sent for the superiors, declared to them his intention, and desired them to acquaint their devout men with it.

The king obtained of Heaven what he requested, for in nine months’ time he had a son by one of his wives.  To express his gratitude to Heaven, he sent fresh alms to the communities of devotees, and the prince’s birth-day was celebrated not only in his capital, but throughout his dominions, for a whole week.  The prince was brought to him as soon as born, and he found him so beautiful that he gave him the name of Kummir al Zummaun, or Moon of the Age.

He was brought up with all imaginable care; and when he had arrived at a proper age, his father appointed him an experienced governor and able preceptors.  These persons, distinguished by their capacity, found in him a ready wit capable of receiving all the instructions that were proper to be given him, as well in relation to morals as other knowledge which a prince ought to possess.  As he grew up, he learned all his exercises, and acquitted himself with such grace and wonderful address, as to charm all that saw him, and particularly the sultan his father.

When he had attained the age of fifteen, the sultan, who tenderly loved him, and gave him every day new marks of his affection, proposed to afford a still higher demonstration by resigning his throne to him, and he accordingly acquainted his grand vizier with his intentions.  “I fear,” said he, “lest my son should lose in the inactivity of youth those advantages which nature and my education have give him; therefore, since I am advanced in age, and ought to think of retirement I propose to resign the government to him, and pass the remainder of my days in the satisfaction of seeing him reign.  I have borne the fatigue of a crown till I am weary of it, and think it is now proper for me to retire.”

The grand vizier declined offering all the reasons he could have alleged to dissuade the sultan from such a proceeding; on the contrary, he appeared to acquiesce with him in his opinion.  “Sir,” replied he, “the prince is yet but young, and it would not, in my humble opinion, be advisable to burden him with the weight of a crown so soon.  Your majesty fears, with great reason, his youth may be corrupted by indolence:  but to avoid this danger, do not you think it would be proper to marry him?  Marriage forms attachment, and prevents dissipation.  Your majesty might then admit him of your council, where he would learn by degrees the art of reigning; and so be prepared to receive your authority, whenever by your own experience you shall think him qualified.”

Shaw Zummaun approved the advice of his prime minister; and summoned the prince to appear before him, at the same time that he dismissed the grand vizier.

The prince, who had been accustomed to see his father only at certain times without being sent for, was a little startled at this summons; when, therefore, he came into his presence, he saluted him with great respect, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground.

The sultan perceiving his constraint, addressed him with great mildness, “Do you know, son, for what reason I have sent for you?” The prince modestly replied, “God alone knows the heart:  I shall hear it from your majesty with pleasure.”  “I sent for you,” resumed the sultan, “to inform you that it is my intention to provide a proper marriage for you:  what do you think of my design?”

The prince heard this with great uneasiness:  he was greatly agitated, and knew not what answer to make.  After a few moments silence, he replied, “Sir, I beseech you to pardon me if I seem surprised at the declaration you have made.  I did not expect such proposals at my present age.  I know not whether I could prevail on myself to marry, on account of the trouble incident to a married life, and the many treacheries of women, which I have read of.  I may not be always of the same mind, yet I conceive it will require time to determine on what your majesty requires of me.”

The prince’s answer extremely afflicted his father.  He was not a little grieved to discover his aversion to marriage; yet would not charge him with disobedience, nor exert his paternal authority.  He contented himself with telling him, he would not force his inclinations, but give him time to consider of the proposal; and reflect, that a prince destined to govern a great kingdom ought to take some care to leave a successor; and that in giving himself that satisfaction he communicated it to his father, who would be glad to see himself revive in his son and his issue.

Shaw Zummaun said no more to the prince but admitted him into his council, and gave him every reason to be satisfied.  At the end of the year he took him aside, and said to him; “My son, have you thoroughly considered what I proposed to you last year about marrying?  Will you still refuse me that pleasure I expect from your obedience, and suffer me to die without affording me that satisfaction?”

The prince seemed less disconcerted than before; and was not long answering his father to this effect:  “Sir, I have not neglected to consider of your proposal; but after the maturest reflection find myself more confirmed in my resolution to continue in a state of celibacy.  The infinite mischief which women have caused in the world, and which are on record in our histories, and the accounts I daily hear to their disadvantage, are the motives which powerfully influence me against having any thing to do with them; so that I hope your majesty will pardon me if I presume to tell you, it will be in vain to solicit me any further upon this subject.”  As soon as he had thus spoken, he quitted the sultan abruptly without waiting his answer.

Any monarch but Shaw Zummaun would have been angry at such freedom in a son, and would have made him repent; but he loved him, and preferred gentle methods before he proceeded to compulsion.  He communicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister.  “I have followed your advice,” said he, “but Kummir al Zummaun is farther than ever from complying with my desires.  He delivered his determination in such free terms, that it required all my reason and moderation to keep my temper.  Fathers who so earnestly desire children as I did this son are fools, who seek to deprive themselves of that rest which it is in their own power to enjoy without control.  Tell me, I beseech you, how I shall reclaim a disposition so rebellious to my will?”

“Sir,” answered the grand vizier, “patience brings many things about that before seemed impracticable; but it may be this affair is of a nature not likely to succeed that way.  Your majesty will have no cause to reproach yourself for precipitation, if you would give the prince another year to consider your proposal.  If in this interval he return to his duty, you will have the greater satisfaction, as you will have employed only paternal love to induce him; and if he still continue averse when this is expired, your majesty may in full council observe, that it is highly necessary for the good of the state that he should marry; and it is not likely he will refuse to comply before so grave an assembly, which you honour with your presence.”

The sultan, who so anxiously desired to see his son married, thought this long delay an age; however, though with much difficulty, he yielded to his grand vizier’s reasons, which he could not disapprove.

After the grand vizier was gone, the sultan went to the apartment of the mother of prince Kummir al Zummaun, to whom he had often expressed his desire to see the prince married.  When he had told her, with much concern, how his son had a second time refused to comply with his wishes, and the indulgence which, by the advice of his grand vizier, he was inclined to shew him; he said, “I know he has more confidence in you than he has in me, and will be more likely to attend to your advice.  I therefore desire you would take an opportunity to talk to him seriously, and urge upon him, that if he persists in his obstinacy, he will oblige me to have recourse to measures which would be disagreeable to me, and which would give him cause to repent having disobeyed me.”

Fatima, for so was the lady called, told the prince the first time she saw him, that she had been informed of his second refusal to marry; and how much chagrin his resolution had occasioned his father.  “Madam,” replied the prince, “I beseech you not to renew my grief upon that head.  I fear, under my present uneasiness, something may escape me, which may not be consistent with the respect I owe you.”  Fatima judged from this answer that this was not a proper time to speak to him, and therefore deferred what she had to say to another opportunity.

Some considerable time after, Fatima thought she had found a more favourable season, which gave her hopes of being heard upon that subject.  “Son,” said she, “I beg of you, if it be not disagreeable, to tell me what reason you have for your great aversion to marriage?  If it be the wickedness of some women, nothing can be more unreasonable and weak.  I will not undertake the defence of those that are bad; there are a great number of them undoubtedly; but it would be the height of injustice on their account to condemn all the sex.  Alas! my son, you have in your books read of many bad women, who have occasioned great mischief, and I will not excuse them:  but you do not consider how many monarchs, sultans, and other princes there have been in the world, whose tyrannies, barbarities, and cruelties astonish those that read of them, as well as myself.  Now, for one wicked woman, you will meet with a thousand tyrants and barbarians; and what torment do you think must a good woman undergo, who is matched with any of these wretches?”

“Madam,” replied the prince, “I doubt not there are a great number of wise, virtuous, good, affable, and well-behaved women in the world; would to God they all resembled you!  But what deters me is, the hazardous choice a man is obliged to make, and oftentimes one has not the liberty of following his inclination.

“Let us suppose then, madam,” continued he, “that I had a mind to marry, as the sultan my father so earnestly desires; what wife, think you, would he be likely to provide for me?  Probably a princess whom he would demand of some neighbouring prince, and who would think it an honour done him to send her.  Handsome or ugly, she must be taken; nay, suppose no other princess excelled her in beauty, who can be certain that her temper would be good; that she would be affable, complaisant, easy, obliging, and the like?  That her conversation would generally turn on solid subjects, and not on dress, fashions, ornaments, and a thousand such fooleries, which would disgust any man of sense?  In a word, that she would not be haughty, proud, arrogant, impertinent, scornful, and waste an estate in frivolous expenses, such as gay clothes, jewels, toys, and foolish mistaken magnificence?

“You see, madam,” continued he, “by one single article, how many reasons a man may have to be disgusted at marriage.  Let this princess be ever so perfect, accomplished, and irreproachable in her conduct, I have yet a great many more reasons not to alter my opinion and resolution.”

“What, son,” exclaimed Fatima; “have you then more reasons after those you have already alleged?  I do not doubt of being able to answer them, and stop your mouth with a word.”  “You may proceed, madam,” returned the prince, “and perhaps I may find a reply to your answer.”

“I mean, son,” said Fatima, “that it is easy for a prince, who has had the misfortune to marry such a wife as you describe, to get rid of her, and take care that she may not ruin the state.”  “Ah, madam,” replied the prince, “but you do not consider what a mortification it would be to a person of my quality to be obliged to come to such an extremity.  Would it not have been more for his honour and quiet that he had never run such a risk?”

“But, son,” said Fatima once more, “as you take the case, I apprehend you have a mind to be the last king of your race, who have reigned so long and gloriously over the isles of the children of Khaledan?”

“Madam,” replied the prince, “for myself I do not desire to survive the king my father; and if I should die before him, it would be no great matter of wonder, since so many children have died before their parents.  But it is always glorious to a race of kings, that it should end with a prince worthy to be so, as I should endeavour to make myself like my predecessors, and like the first of our race.”

From that time Fatima had frequent conferences with her son the prince on the same subject; and she omitted no opportunity or argument to endeavour to root out his aversion to the fair sex; but he eluded all her reasonings by such arguments as she could not well answer, and continued unaltered.

The year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, prince Kummir al Zummaun gave not the least proof of having changed his sentiments.  One day, therefore, when there was a great council held, the prime vizier, the other viziers, the principal officers of the crown, and the generals of the army being present, the sultan thus addressed the prince:  “My son, it is now a long while since I expressed to you my earnest desire to see you married, and I imagined you would have had more complaisance for a father, who required nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long.  But after such a resistance on your part, which has almost worn out my patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once more to you in the presence of my council.  It is not merely to oblige a parent that you ought to have acceded to my wish, the well-being of my dominions requires your compliance, and this assembly join with me in expecting it:  declare yourself, then; that your answer may regulate my proceedings.”

The prince answered with so little reserve, or rather with so much warmth, that the sultan, enraged to see himself thwarted by him in full council, exclaimed, “How, unnatural son! have you the insolence to talk thus to your father and sultan?” He ordered the guards to take him away, and carry him to an old tower that had been long unoccupied; where he was shut up, with only a bed, a little furniture, some books, and one slave to attend him.

Kummir al Zummaun, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased that he had the freedom to converse with his books, which made him regard his confinement with indifference.  In the evening he bathed and said his prayers; and after having read some chapters in the Koraun, with the same tranquillity of mind as if he had been in the sultan’s palace, he undressed himself and went to bed, leaving his lamp burning by him while he slept.

In this tower was a well, which served in the daytime for a retreat to a certain fairy, named Maimoune, daughter of Damriat, king or head of a legion of genies.  It was about midnight when Maimoune sprung lightly to the mouth of the well, to wander about the world after her wonted custom, where her curiosity led her.  She was surprised to see a light in the prince’s chamber.  She entered, and without stopping at the slave who lay at the door, approached the bed.

The prince had but half covered his face with the bed-clothes, which Maimoune lifted up, and perceived the finest young man she had ever seen in her rambles through the world.  “What beauty, or rather what prodigy of beauty,” said she within herself, “must this youth appear, when the eyes, concealed by such well-formed eyelids, shall be open?  What crime can he have committed, that a man of his high rank can deserve to be treated thus rigorously?” for she had already heard his story, and could hardly believe it.

She could not forbear admiring the prince, till at length having kissed him gently on both cheeks, and in the middle of the forehead, without waking him, she laid the bed-clothes in the order they were in before, and took her flight into the air.  As she was ascending into the middle region, she heard a great flapping of wings, towards which she directed her course; and when she approached, she knew it was a genie who made the noise, but it was one of those that are rebellious against God.  As for Maimoune, she belonged to that class whom the great Solomon had compelled to acknowledge him.

This genie, whose name was Danhasch, and son of Schamhourasch, knew Maimoune, and was seized with fear, being sensible how much power she had over him by her submission to the Almighty.  He would fain have avoided her, but she was so near him, he must either fight or yield.  He therefore broke silence first.

“Brave Maimoune,” said he, in the tone of a suppliant, “swear to me in the name of the great God, that you will not hurt me; and I swear also on my part not to do you any harm.”

“Cursed genie,” replied Maimoune, “what hurt canst thou do me?  I fear thee not; but I will grant thee this favour; I will swear not to do thee any harm.  Tell me then, wandering spirit, whence thou comest, what thou hast seen, and what thou hast done this night?” “Fair lady,” answered Danhasch, “you meet me in a good time to hear something very wonderful.”

Danhasch, the genie rebellious against God, proceeded and said to Maimoune, “Since you desire, I will inform you that I have come from the utmost limits of China, which comprise the remotest islands of this hemisphere. . . . .  But, charming Maimoune,” said Danhasch, who trembled with fear at the sight of this fairy, so that he could hardly speak, “promise me at least you will forgive me, and let me proceed after I have satisfied your request.”

“Go on, cursed spirit,” replied Maimoune; “go on, and fear nothing.  Dost thou think I am as perfidious as thyself, and capable of breaking the solemn oath I have made?  Be sure you relate nothing but what is true, or I shall clip thy wings, and treat thee as thou deserves.”

Danhasch, a little encouraged by the words of Maimoune, said, “My dear lady, I will tell you nothing but what is strictly true, if you will but have the goodness to hear me.  The country of China, from whence I come, is one of the largest and most powerful kingdoms of the earth, on which depend the remotest islands of this hemisphere, as I have already told you.  The king of this country is at present Gaiour, who has an only daughter, the finest woman that ever was seen in the world since it has been a world.  Neither you nor I, neither your class nor mine, nor all our respective genies, have expressions forcible enough, nor eloquence sufficient to convey an adequate description of her charms.  Her hair is brown, and of such length as to trail on the ground; and so thick, that when she has fastened it in buckles on her head, it may be fitly compared to one of those fine clusters of grapes whose fruit is so very large.  Her forehead is as smooth as the best polished mirror, and admirably formed.  Her eyes are black, sparkling, and full of fire.  Her nose is neither too long nor too short, and her mouth small and of a vermilion colour.  Her teeth are like two rows of pearls, and surpass the finest in whiteness.  When she moves her tongue to speak, she utters a sweet and most agreeable voice; and expresses herself in such terms, as sufficiently indicate the vivacity of her wit.  The whitest alabaster is not fairer than her neck.  In a word, by this imperfect sketch, you may guess there is no beauty likely to exceed her in the world.

“Any one that did not know the king, the father of this incomparable princess, would be apt to imagine, from the great respect and kindness he shews her, that he was enamoured with her.  Never did a lover more for the most beloved mistress than he has been seen to do for her.  The most violent jealousy never suggested such measures as his care has led him to adopt, to keep her from every one but the man who is to marry her:  and that the retreat in which he has resolved to place her may not seem irksome, he has built for her seven palaces, the most extraordinary and magnificent that ever were known.

“The first palace is of rock crystal, the second of brass, the third of fine steel, the fourth of another kind of brass more valuable than the former and also than steel, the fifth of touchstone, the sixth of silver, and the seventh of massive gold.  He has furnished these palaces most sumptuously, each in a manner corresponding to the materials of the structure.  He has embellished the gardens with parterres of grass and flowers, intermixed with pieces of water, water-works, jets d’eau, canals, cascades, and several great groves of trees, where the eye is lost in the perspective, and where the sun never enters, and all differently arranged.  King Gaiour, in a word, has shewn that his paternal love has led him to spare no expense.

“Upon the fame of this incomparable princess’s beauty, the most powerful neighbouring kings have sent ambassadors to solicit her in marriage.  The king of China received them all in the same obliging manner; but as he resolved not to marry his daughter without her consent, and she did not like any of the parties, the ambassadors were forced to return as they came, as to the subject of their embassy; they were perfectly satisfied with the great honours and civilities they had received.

“‘Sir,’ said the princess to the king her father, ’you have an inclination to see me married, and think to oblige me by it; but where shall I find such stately palaces and delicious gardens as are furnished me by your majesty?  Through your good pleasure I am under no constraint, and have the same honours shewn to me as are paid to yourself.  These are advantages I cannot expect to find any where else, whoever may be my husband; men love to be masters, and I have no inclination to be commanded.’

“After several other embassies on the same occasion, there arrived one from a king more opulent and powerful than any of the preceding.  This prince the king of China recommended to his daughter for her husband, urging many forcible arguments to shew how much it would be to her advantage to accept him, but she entreated her father to excuse her compliance for the reasons she had before urged.  He pressed her; but instead of consenting, she lost all the respect due to the king her father:  ‘Sir,’ said she, in anger, ’talk to me no more of this or any other match, unless you would have me plunge this dagger in my bosom, to deliver myself from your importunities.’

“The king, greatly enraged, said, ’Daughter, you are mad, and I must treat you accordingly.’  In a word, he had her shut up in a single apartment of one of his palaces, and allowed her only ten old women to wait upon her, and keep her company, the chief of whom had been her nurse That the kings his neighbours, who had sent embassies to him on her account, might not think any more of her, he despatched envoys to them severally, to let them know how averse his daughter was to marriage; and as he did not doubt but she was really mad, he charged them to make known in every court, that if there were any physician that would undertake to cure her, he should, if he succeeded, have her for his pains.

“Fair Maimoune,” continued Danhasch, “all that I have told you is true; and I have gone every day regularly to contemplate this incomparable beauty, to whom I would be sorry to do the least harm, notwithstanding my natural inclination to mischief.  Come and see her, I conjure you; it would be well worth your while.  When you have seen from your own observation that I am no liar, I am persuaded you will think yourself obliged to me for the sight of a princess unequalled in beauty.”

Instead of answering Danhasch, Maimoune burst out into violent laughter, which lasted for some time; and Danhasch, not knowing what might be the occasion of it, was astonished beyond measure.  When she had done laughing, she exclaimed, “Good, good, very good!  You would have me then believe all you have told me?  I thought you designed to tell me something surprising and extraordinary, and you have been talking all this while of a mad woman.  Fie, fie! what would you say, cursed genie, if you had seen the beautiful prince from whom I am just come, and whom I love as he deserves.  I am confident you would soon give up the contest, and not pretend to compare your choice with mine.”

“Agreeable Maimoune,” replied Danhasch, “may I presume to ask who this prince you speak of is?” “Know,” answered Maimoune, “the same thing has happened to him as to your princess.  The king his father would have married him against his will; but after much importunity, he frankly told him he would have nothing to do with a wife.  For this reason he is at this moment imprisoned in an old tower where I reside.”

“I will not absolutely contradict you,” replied Danhasch; “but, my pretty lady, you must give me leave to be of opinion, till I have seen your prince, that no mortal upon earth can equal my princess in beauty.”  “Hold thy tongue, cursed sprite,” replied Maimoune.  “I tell thee once more thou art wrong.”  “I will not contend with you,” said Danhasch, “but the way to be convinced, whether what I say be true or false, is to accept of my proposal to go and see my princess, and after that I will go with you to your prince.”

“There is no need I should be at so much trouble,” replied Maimoune; “there is another way to satisfy us both; and that is, for you to bring your princess, and place her at my prince’s bed-side:  by this means it will be easy for us to compare them together, and determine the dispute.”

Danhasch consented, and determined to set out immediately for China.  But Maimoune drew him aside, and told him, she must first shew him the tower whither he was to bring the princess.  They flew together to the tower, and when Maimoune had strewn it to Danhasch, she cried, “Go fetch your princess, and do it quickly, you will find me here.”

Danhasch left Maimoune, and flew towards China, whence he soon returned with incredible speed, bringing the fair princess along with him asleep.  Maimoune received him, and introduced him into the chamber of Kummir al Zummaun, where they placed the princess by the prince’s side.

When the prince and princess were thus laid together, there arose a sharp contest between the genie and the fairy about the preference of their beauty.  They were some time admiring and comparing them without speaking; at length Danhasch said to Maimoune, “You see, and I have already told you, my princess was handsomer than your prince; now, I hope, you are convinced.”

“How! convinced!” replied Maimoune; “I am not convinced, and you must be blind, if you cannot see that my prince excels in the comparison.  That the princess is fair, I do not deny; but if you compare them together without prejudice, you will soon see the difference.”

“How much soever I may compare them,” returned Danhasch, “I shall never change my opinion.  I saw at first sight what I now behold, and time will not make me see differently:  however, this shall not hinder my yielding to you, charming Maimoune, if you desire it.”  “What! have you yield to me as a favour!  I scorn it,” said Maimoune, “I would not receive a favour at the hand of such a wicked genie.  I will refer the matter to an umpire, and if you do not consent, I shall win by your refusal.”

Danhasch, who was ready to have shewn a different kind of complaisance, no sooner gave his consent, than Maimoune stamped with her foot.  The earth opened, and out came a hideous, hump-backed, squinting, and lame genie, with six horns upon his head, and claws on his hands and feet.  As soon as he was come out, and the earth had closed, perceiving Maimoune, he threw himself at her feet, and then rising on one knee, inquired her commands.

“Rise, Caschcasch,” said Maimoune, “I brought you hither to determine a difference between me and this cursed Danhasch.  Look on that bed, and tell me without partiality who is the handsomer of those two that lie there asleep, the young man or the young lady.”

Caschcasch looked on the prince and princess with great attention, admiration, and surprise; and after he had considered them a good while, without being able to determine, he turned to Maimoune, and said, “Madam, I must confess I should deceive you, and betray myself, if I pretended to say one was handsomer than the other.  The more I examine them, the more clearly it appears to me each possesses, in a sovereign degree, the beauty of which both partake.  Neither of them appears to have the least defect, to yield to the other the palm of superiority; but if there be any difference, the best way to determine it is, to awaken them one after the other, and to agree that the person who shall express most love for the other by ardour, eagerness, and passion, shall be deemed to have in some respect less beauty.”

This proposal of Caschcasch’s pleased both Maimoune and Danhasch.  Maimoune then changed herself into a flea, and leaping on the prince’s neck, stung him so smartly, that he awoke, and put up his hand to the place; but Maimoune skipped away, and resumed her pristine form, which, like those of the two genies, was invisible, the better to observe what he would do.

In drawing back his hand, the prince chanced to let it fall on that of the princess of China.  He opened his eyes, and was exceedingly surprised to find lying by him a lady of the greatest beauty.  He raised his head, and leaned on his elbow, the better to observe her.  Her blooming youth and incomparable beauty fired him in a moment with a flame of which he had never yet been sensible, and from which he had hitherto guarded himself with the greatest attention.

Love seized on his heart in the most lively manner, and he exclaimed, “What beauty! what charms! my heart! my soul!” As he spoke he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and her mouth with so little caution, that he would have awakened her, had she not slept sounder than ordinary, through the enchantment of Danhasch.

“How!” said the prince, “do you not awake at these testimonies of love?” He was going to awake her, but suddenly refrained.  “Is not this she,” said he, “that the sultan my father would have had me marry?  He was in the wrong not to let me see her sooner.  I should not have offended him by my disobedience and passionate language to him in public, and he would have spared himself the confusion which I have occasioned him.”

The prince began to repent sincerely of the fault he had committed, and was once more on the point of awaking the princess of China.  “It may be,” said he, “that the sultan my father has a mind to surprise me; and has sent this young lady to try if I had really that aversion to marriage which I pretended.  Who knows but he has brought her himself, and is hidden behind the hangings, to observe me, and make me ashamed of my dissimulation?  The second fault would be greater than the first.  At all events, I will content myself with this ring, as a remembrance of her.”

He then gently drew off a ring which the princess had on her finger, and immediately replaced it with one of his own.  After this he fell into a more profound sleep than before, through the enchantment of the genies.

Danhasch now transformed himself into a flea in his turn, and bit the princess so rudely on the lip, that she awoke, started up, and on opening her eyes, was not a little surprised to see a man lying by her side.  From surprise she proceeded to admiration, and from admiration to a transport of joy, at beholding so beautiful and lovely a youth.

“What!” cried she, “is it you the king my father has designed me for a husband?  Would that I had known it, for then I should not have displeased him, nor been deprived of a husband whom I cannot forbear loving.  Wake then, awake!”

So saying, she took the prince by the arm, and shook him so violently, that he would have awaked, had not Maimoune increased his sleep by her enchantment.  She shook him several times, and finding he did not awake, exclaimed, “What is come to thee? what jealous rival, envying thy happiness and mine, has had recourse to magic to throw thee into this unconquerable drowsiness when thou shouldst be most awake?” Tired at length with her fruitless endeavours to awaken the prince; “Since,” said she, “I find it is not in my power to awake thee, I will no longer disturb thy repose, but wait our next meeting.”  After having kissed his cheek, she lay down and fell asleep by enchantment.

Maimoune now cried out to Danhasch, “Ah, cursed genie, art thou not now convinced how much thy princess is inferior to my prince?  Another time believe me when I assert any thing.”  Then turning to Caschcasch, “As for you,” said she, “I thank you for your trouble; take the princess, in conjunction with Danhasch, and convey her back again to her bed, from whence he has taken her.”  Danhasch and Caschcasch did as they were commanded, and Maimoune retired to her well.

Kummir al Zummaun on waking next morning, looked if the lady whom he had seen the night before were by him.  When he found she was gone, he cried out, “I thought indeed this was a trick the king my father designed to play me.  I am glad I was aware of it.”  He then awaked the slave, who was still asleep, and after he had washed and said his prayers, took a book and read some time.

After these usual exercises, he called the slave, and said to him, “Come hither, and be sure you do not tell me a lie.  How came the lady hither who lay with me to-night, and who brought her?”

“My lord,” answered the slave with great astonishment, “I know not what lady your highness speaks of.”  “I speak,” said the prince, “of her who came, or rather was brought hither, and lay with me to-night.”  “My lord,” replied the slave, “I swear I know of no such lady; and how should she come in without my knowledge, since I lay at the door?”

“You are a lying knave,” replied the prince, “and in the plot to vex and provoke me.”  He then gave him a box on the ear, which knocked him down; and after having stamped upon him for some time, he tied the well-rope under his arms, and plunged him several times into the water, neck and heels.  “I will drown thee,” cried he, “if thou dost not tell me directly who this lady was, and who brought her.”

The slave, perplexed and half dead, said within himself, “The prince must have lost his senses through grief, and I shall not escape if I do not tell him a falsehood.  My lord,” cried he, in a suppliant tone, “I beseech your highness to spare my life, and I will tell you the truth.”

The prince drew the slave up, and pressed him to tell him.  As soon as he was out of the well, “My lord,” said he, trembling, “your highness must perceive it is impossible for me to satisfy you in my present condition; I beg you to give me leave first to go and change my clothes.”  “I permit you, but do it quickly,” said the prince; “and be sure you conceal nothing.”

The slave went out, and having locked the door upon the prince, ran to the palace just as he was.  The king was at that time in discourse with his prime vizier, to whom he had just related the grief in which he had passed the night on account of his son’s disobedience and opposition to his will.

The minister endeavoured to comfort his master, by telling him, the prince himself had given him cause for his severity.  “Sir,” said he, “your majesty need not repent of having treated your son in this manner.  Have but patience to let him continue a while in prison, and assure yourself his heat will abate, and he will submit to all you require.”

The grand vizier had but just done speaking when the slave came in, and cast himself at the feet of the sovereign.  “My lord,” said he, “I am sorry to be the messenger of ill news to your majesty, which I know must occasion you fresh affliction.  The prince is distracted; he raves of a lady having lain with him all night, and his treatment of me, as you may see, too plainly proves the state of his mind.”  Then he proceeded to relate the particulars of what the prince had said, and the violence with which he had been treated.

The king, who did not expect to hear any thing of this afflicting kind, said to the prime minister, “This is a melancholy turn, very different from the hopes you gave me:  go immediately and examine the condition of my son.”

The grand vizier obeyed; and coming into the prince’s chamber, found him sitting on his bed with a book in his hand, which he was reading.

After mutual salutations, the vizier said, “My lord, I wish that a slave of yours were punished for coming to alarm the king your father by news that he has brought him.”

“What is it,” demanded the prince, “that could give my father so much uneasiness?”

“Prince,” answered the vizier, “God forbid that the intelligence he has conveyed to your father concerning you should be true; indeed, I find it to be false, by the calm temper in which I observe you, and which I pray you to continue.”

“It may be,” replied the prince, “he did not make himself well understood; but since you are come, who ought to know something of the matter, permit me to ask you who that lady was that lay with me last night?”

The grand vizier was thunderstruck at this question; he recovered himself and said, “My lord, be not surprised at my astonishment at your question.  Is it possible, that a lady or any other person should penetrate by night into this place without entering at the door, and walking over the body of your slave?  I beseech you, recollect yourself, and you will find it is only a dream which has made this impression on you.”

“I give no ear to what you say,” replied the prince, raising his voice.  “I must know from you absolutely what is become of the lady; and if you hesitate, I am in a place where I shall soon be able to force you to obey me.”

At this stern language, the grand vizier began to feel more alarmed than before, and to think how he could extricate himself.  He endeavoured to pacify the prince, and begged of him, in the most humble and guarded manner, to tell him if he had seen this lady.

“Yes, yes,” answered the prince, “I have seen her, and am very well satisfied you sent her here to tempt me.  She played the part in which you had instructed her admirably well.  She pretended to be asleep, and I had no sooner fallen into a slumber, than she arose and left me.  You know all this; for I doubt not she has been to make her report to you.”

“My lord,” replied the vizier, “I swear to you nothing of this kind has been acted; neither your father nor I sent this lady you speak of; permit me therefore once more to suggest to your highness, that you have only seen this lady in a dream.”

“Do you come to affront and contradict me,” said the prince in a rage, “and to tell me to my face, that what I have told you is a dream?” At the same time he took him by the beard, and loaded him with blows, as long as he could stand.

The grand vizier endured with respectful patience all the violence of the prince’s indignation, and could not help saying within himself, “Now am I in as bad a condition as the slave, and shall think myself happy, if I can, like him, escape from any further danger.”  In the midst of repeated blows, he cried out but for a moment’s audience, which the prince, after he had nearly tired himself with beating him, consented to give him.

“I own, my prince,” said the grand vizier dissembling, “there is something in what your highness suspects; but you cannot be ignorant of the necessity a minister is under to obey his royal master’s commands:  yet, if you will but be pleased to set me at liberty, I will go and tell him any thing on your behalf that you shall think fit to require.”  “Go then,” said the prince, “and tell him from me, if he pleases, I will marry the lady he sent me, or, rather, that was brought to me last night.  Do this immediately, and bring me a speedy answer.”  The grand vizier made a profound reverence and went away, not thinking himself altogether safe till he had got out of the tower, and had closed the door on the prince.

He came and presented himself before Shaw Zummaun, with a countenance that sufficiently shewed he had been ill used, and which the king could not behold without concern.  “Well,” said the king, “in what condition did you find my son?” “Sir,” answered the vizier, “what the slave reported to your majesty is but too true.”  He then began to relate his interview with the prince, how he flew into a passion upon his endeavouring to persuade him it was impossible the lady he spoke of should have been introduced; the ill treatment he had received from him; how he had used him, and by what means he had made his escape.

The king, the more concerned as he loved the prince with excessive tenderness, resolved to find out the truth, and therefore proposed to go himself and see his son in the tower, accompanied by the grand vizier.

The prince received his father in the tower, where he was confined, with great respect.  The king put several questions to him, which he answered calmly.  The king every now and then looked on the grand vizier, as intimating he did not find his son had lost his wits, but rather thought he had lost his.

The king at length spoke of the lady to the prince.  “My son,” said he, “I desire you to tell me what lady it was who lay with you last night.”

“Sir,” answered the prince, “I beg of your majesty not to give me more vexation on that head, but rather to oblige me by letting me have her in marriage; whatever aversion I may hitherto have discovered for women, this young lady has charmed me to that degree, that I cannot help confessing my weakness.  I am ready to receive her at your majesty’s hands, with the deepest gratitude.”

Shaw Zummaun was surprised at this answer of the prince, so remote, as he thought, from the good sense he had strewn before.  “My son,” said he, “you fill me with the greatest astonishment by what you say:  I swear to you I know nothing of the lady you mention; and if any such has come to you, it was without my knowledge or privily.  But how could she get into this tower without my consent?  For whatever my grand vizier told you, it was only to appease your anger, it must therefore be a mere dream; and I beg of you not to believe otherwise, but recover your senses.”

“Sir,” replied the prince, “I should be for ever unworthy of your majesty’s favour, if I did not give entire credit to what you are pleased to say but I humbly beseech you at the same time to give a patient hearing to what I shall relate, and then to judge whether what I have the honour to tell you be a dream or not.”

The prince then related to his father how he had been awaked, exaggerating the beauty and charms of the lady he found by his side, the instantaneous love he conceived for her, and the pains he took to awaken her without effect.  Shewing the king the ring he had taken from her finger he added, “After this, I hope you will be convinced that I have not lost my senses, as you have been almost made to believe.”

Shaw Zummaun was so perfectly convinced of the truth of what his son had been telling him, that he could make no reply, remaining astonished for some time, and not being able to utter a syllable.

The prince took advantage of this opportunity, and said, “The passion I have conceived for this charming lady, whose lovely image I bear continually in my mind, is so ardent, that I cannot resist it.  I entreat you therefore to have compassion, and procure me the happiness of being united to her.”

“Son,” replied the king, “after what I have just heard, and what I see by the ring on your finger, I cannot doubt but that your passion is real, and that you have seen this lady, who is the object of it.  Would to God I knew who she was.  I would instantly comply with your wishes, and should be the happiest father in the world!  But where shall I seek her?  How came she here, and by what conveyance, without my consent?  Why did she come to sleep with you only to display her beauty, to kindle a flame of love while she slept, and then leave you while you were in a slumber?  These things, I must confess, I do not understand; and if heaven do not favour us in our perplexity, I fear we must both go down to the grave together.”  As he spoke, he took the prince by the hand, and said, “Come then, my son, let us go and grieve together; you with hopeless love, and I with seeing your affliction, without being able to afford you relief.”

Shaw Zummaun then led his son out of the tower, and conveyed him to the palace, where he had no sooner arrived, than in despair at loving an unknown object he fell sick, and took to his bed; the king shut himself up with him, without attending to the affairs of his kingdom for many days.

The prime minister, who was the only person that had admittance, at length informed him, that the whole court, and even the people, began to murmur at not seeing him, and that he did not administer justice every day as he was wont to do; adding, he knew not what disorder it might occasion.  “I humbly beg your majesty, therefore,” proceeded he, “to pay some attention.  I am sensible your majesty’s company is a great comfort to the prince, and that his tends to relieve your grief; but you must not run the risk of letting all be lost.  Permit me to propose to your majesty, to remove with the prince to the castle near the port, where you may give audience to your subjects twice a week only.  During these absences the prince will be so agreeably amused with the beauty, prospect, and good air of the place, that he will bear them with the less uneasiness.”

The king approved this proposal:  he removed thither with the prince; and, excepting when he gave audience, never left him, but passed all his time endeavouring to comfort him by sharing his distress.

Whilst matters passed thus in the capital of Shaw Zummaun, the two genies, Danhasch and Caschcasch, had carried the princess of China back to the palace where the king her father had confined her, and laid her in her bed as before.

When she awoke next morning, and found that prince Kummir al Zummaun was not by her, she cried out in such a manner to her women, that she soon brought them to her bed.  Her nurse, who arrived first, desired to be informed if any thing disagreeable had happened to her.

“Tell me,” said the princess, “what is become of the young man that has passed the night with me, and whom I love with all my soul?” “Madam,” replied the nurse, “we cannot understand your highness, unless you will be pleased to explain yourself.”

“A young man, the handsomest and most amiable,” said the princess, “slept with me last night, whom, with all my caresses, I could not awake; I ask you where he is?"’

“Madam,” answered the nurse, “your highness asks us these questions in jest.  I beseech you to rise.”  “I am in earnest,” said the princess, “and I must know where this young man is.”  “Madam,” insisted the nurse, “you were alone when you went to bed last night; and how any man could come to you without our knowledge we cannot imagine, for we all lay about the door of your chamber, which was locked, and I had the key in my pocket.”

At this the princess lost all patience, and taking her nurse by the hair of her head, and giving her two or three sound cuffs, cried, “You shall tell me where this young man is, you old sorceress, or I will put you to death.”

The nurse struggled to get from her, and at last succeeded.  She went immediately with tears in her eyes, and her face all bloody, to complain to the queen, who was not a little surprised to see her in this condition, and asked who had misused her.

“Madam,” began the nurse, “you see how the princess has treated me; she had certainly murdered me, if I had not had the good fortune to escape out of her hands.”  She then related what had been the cause of all that violent passion in the princess.  The queen was surprised at her account, and could not guess how she came to be so infatuated as to take that for a reality which could be no other than a dream.  “Your majesty must conclude from all this,” continued the nurse, “that the princess is out of her senses.  You will think so yourself if you will go and see her.”

The queen’s affection for the princess deeply interested her in what she heard; she ordered the nurse to follow her; and they immediately went together to the princess’s palace.

The queen of China sat down by her daughter’s bed-side on her arrival in her apartment, and after she had informed herself about her health began to ask her what had made her so angry with her nurse, as to treat her in the manner she had done.  “Daughter,” said she, “this is not right, and a great princess like you should not suffer herself to be so transported by passion.”

“Madam,” replied the princess, “I plainly perceive your majesty is come to mock me; but I declare I will never let you rest till you consent to my marrying the young man who lay with me last night.  You must know where he is, and therefore I beg of your majesty to let him come to me again.”

“Daughter,” answered the queen, “you surprise me; I do not understand your meaning.”  The princess now forgot all respect for the queen; “Madam,” replied she, “the king my father and you have persecuted me about marrying, when I had no inclination; I now have an inclination, and I will have this young man I told you of for my husband, or I will destroy myself.”

The queen endeavoured to calm the princess by conciliatory language:  “Daughter,” said she, “you know well you are guarded in this apartment, how then could any man come to you?” But instead of attending to her, the princess interrupted her, by such extravagancies as obliged the queen to leave her, and retire in great affliction, to inform the king of all that had passed.

When the king had heard the account, he wished likewise to be satisfied in person, and coming to his daughter’s apartment, asked her, if what he had been told was true?  “Sir,” replied the princess, “let us talk no more of that; I only beseech your majesty to grant me the favour, that I may marry the young man I lay with last night.”

“What! daughter,” said the king, “has any one lain with you last night?” “How, sir,” replied the princess, without giving him time to go on, “do you ask me if any one lay with me last night?  Your majesty knows that but too well.  He was the most beautiful youth the sun ever saw:  I ask him of you for my husband; I entreat you do not refuse me.  But that your majesty may not longer doubt whether I have seen this young man, whether he has lain with me, whether I have caressed him, or whether I did not my utmost to awake him without succeeding, see, if you please, this ring.”  She then reached forth her hand, and shewed the king a man’s ring on her finger.  The king was perplexed what to think.  He had confined his daughter as mad, he began now to think her more insane than ever.  Without saying any thing more to her, lest she might do violence to herself or somebody about her, he had her chained, and confined more closely than before, allowing her only the nurse to wait on her, with a good guard at the door.

The king, exceedingly concerned at this indisposition of his daughter, sought all possible means to effect her cure.  He assembled his council, and after having acquainted them with her condition “If any of you,” said he, “is capable of undertaking to restore her to health, and succeed, I will give her to him in marriage, and make him heir to my dominions.”

The desire of obtaining a handsome young princess, and the hopes of one day governing so great a kingdom as that of China, had a powerful effect on an emir, already advanced in years, who was present at this council.  As he was well skilled in magic, he offered the king to recover his daughter, and flattered himself with success.  “I consent to the trial,” said the king; “but I forgot to tell you one condition, and that is, that if you do not succeed, you shall lose your head.  It would not be reasonable you should have so great a reward, and yet run no risk:  and what I say to you,” continued the king, “I say to all others who shall come after you, that they may consider beforehand what they undertake.”

The emir accepted the condition, and the king conducted him to the princess’s place of confinement.  She covered her face as soon as she saw them enter, and exclaimed, “Your majesty surprises me, in bringing with you a man whom I do not know, and by whom my religion forbids me to let myself be seen.”  “Daughter,” replied the king, “you need not be scandalized, it is only one of my emirs who is come to demand you in marriage.”  “It is not, I perceive, the person that you have already given me, and whose faith is plighted by the ring I wear,” replied the princess; “be not offended that I will never marry any other.”

The emir expected the princess would have said or done some extravagant thing, and was not a little disappointed when he heard her talk so calmly and rationally; for he then concluded that her disease was nothing but a violent and deep-rooted passion.  He therefore threw himself at his majesty’s feet, and said, “After what I have heard and observed, sir, it will be to no purpose for me to think of curing the princess, since I have no remedies proper for her malady; for which reason I humbly submit my life to your majesty’s pleasure.”  The king, enraged at his incapacity, and the trouble he had given him, caused him to be immediately beheaded.

Some days after, unwilling to have it said that he had neglected his daughter’s cure, the king put forth a proclamation in his capital, importing, that if there were any physician, astrologer, or magician who would undertake to restore the princess to her senses, he needed only to offer himself, and he should be employed, on condition of losing his head if he failed.  He had the same published in the other principal cities and towns of his dominions, and in the courts of the princes his neighbours.

The first that presented himself was an astrologer and magician, whom the king caused to be conducted to the princess’s prison by an eunuch.  The astrologer drew forth, out of a bag he carried under his arm, an astrolabe, a small sphere, a chafing-dish, several sorts of drugs proper for fumigations, a brass pot, with many other articles, and desired he might have a fire.

The princess demanded what all these preparations were for.  “Madam,” answered the eunuch, “they are to exorcise the evil spirit that possesses you, to shut him up in this pot, and throw him into the sea.”

“Foolish astrologer,” replied the princess, “I have no occasion for any of your preparations, but am in my perfect senses, and you alone are mad.  If your art can bring him I love to me, I shall be obliged to you; otherwise you may go about your business, for I have nothing to do with you.”  “Madam,” said the astrologer, “if your case be so, I shall desist from all endeavours, believing the king your father only can remove your disorder:”  so putting up his trinkets again, he marched away, much concerned that he had so easily undertaken to cure an imaginary malady.

The eunuch conducted the astrologer to the king, whom the astrologer thus addressed:  “According to what your majesty published in your proclamation, and what you were pleased to confirm to me yourself, I thought the princess was insane, and depended on being able to recover her by the secrets I have long been acquainted with; but I soon found she had no other disease but that of love, over which my art has no power:  your majesty alone is the physician who can cure her, by giving her in marriage the person whom she desires.”

The king was much enraged at the astrologer, and had his head instantly cut off.  A hundred and fifty astrologers, physicians, and magicians, came on this account, who all underwent the same fate; and their heads were set upon poles on every gate of the city.

The princess of China’s nurse had a son whose name was Marzavan, who had been foster-brother to the princess, and brought up with her, The friendship was so great during their childhood, and all the time they had been together, that as they grew up, even some time after their separation, they treated each other as brother and sister.

Marzavan, among other studies, had from his youth been much addicted to judicial astrology, geomancy, and the like secret arts, wherein he became exceedingly skilful.  Not satisfied with what he had learned from masters, he travelled, and there was hardly any person of note in any science or art, but he sought him in the most remote cities, to obtain information, so great was his thirst after knowledge.

After several years’ absence in foreign parts, he returned to the capital of his native country, where, seeing so many heads on the gate by which he entered, he was exceedingly surprised, and demanded for what reason they had been placed there; but he more particularly inquired after the princess his foster-sister.  As he could not receive an answer to one inquiry without the other, he heard at length a general account of what had happened, and waited for further particulars till he could see his mother, the princess’s nurse.

Although the nurse, the mother of Marzavan, was much employed about the princess, yet she no sooner heard her son was returned, than she found time to come out, embrace him, and converse with him a little.  Having told him, with tears in her eyes, the unhappy condition of the princess, and for what reason the king her father had confined her; her son desired to know if she could not procure him a private view of her royal mistress, without the king’s knowledge.  After some pause, she told him she could give him no answer for the present; but if he would meet her the next day at the same hour, she would inform him.

The nurse knowing none could approach the princess but herself; without leave of the eunuch, who commanded the guard at the gate, addressed:  herself to him, and said, “You know I have brought up and suckled the princess, and you may likewise have heard that I had a daughter whom I brought up along with her.  This daughter has been since married, yet the princess still does her the honour to love her, and wishes to see her, without any person’s observing her enter or depart.”

The nurse was proceeding, but the eunuch interrupted her and exclaimed, “Say no more, I will with pleasure do any thing to oblige the princess; go and fetch your daughter, or send for her about midnight, and the gate shall be open for you.”

As soon as it was dark, the nurse went to Marzavan, and having dressed him so well in women’s clothes, that nobody could suspect he was a man, carried him along with her; and the eunuch believing it was her daughter, admitted them.

The nurse, before she presented Marzavan, went to the princess, and said, “Madam, this is not a woman I have brought to you, it is my son Marzavan in disguise, newly arrived from his travels; having a great desire to kiss your hand, I hope your highness will vouchsafe him that honour.”

“What! my brother Marzavan,” exclaimed the princess, with great joy; “approach, and take off that veil; for it is not unreasonable that a brother and a sister should see each other without covering their faces.”

Marzavan saluted her with profound respect, while, without giving him time to speak, she continued, “I rejoice to see you returned in good health, after so many years’ absence, and without sending any account of your welfare, even to your good mother.”

“Madam,” replied Marzavan, “I am infinitely obliged to your goodness.  I hoped to have heard a better account of your health than has been given me, and which I lament to find confirmed by your appearance.  It gives me pleasure, however, to have come so seasonably to bring your highness that remedy which your situation requires.  Should I reap no other benefit from my studies and travels, I should think myself amply recompensed.”

Having thus spoken, Marzavan drew out of his pocket a book and some other things, which from the account he had had from his mother of the princess’s distemper, he thought he might want.  The princess, observing these preparations, exclaimed, “What! brother, are you one of those who believe me mad?  Undeceive yourself, and hear me.”

The princess then related to Marzavan all the particulars of her story, without omitting the least circumstance, even to the ring which was exchanged for hers, and which she shewed him.  “I have not concealed the least incident from you,” continued she; “there is something in this business which I cannot comprehend, and which has given occasion for some persons to think me mad.  But no one will attend to the rest, which is literally as I have stated.”

After the princess had concluded, Marzavan, filled with wonder and astonishment, remained for some time with his eyes fixed on the ground, without speaking a word; but at length he lifted up his head, and said, “If it be as your highness says, and which I do not in the least doubt, I do not despair of being able to procure you the gratification of your wishes.  But I must first entreat your highness to arm yourself with patience, till I have travelled over kingdoms which I have not yet visited, and when you hear of my return, be assured the object of your desire is not far distant.”  Having thus spoken, Marzavan took leave of the princess, and set out the next morning on his intended travels.

He journeyed from city to city, from province to province, and from island to island; and in every place he visited, he could hear of nothing but the princess Badoura (which was the princess of China’s name) and her history.

About four months after, our traveller arrived at Torf, a sea-port town, large and populous, where the theme was changed; he no more heard of the princess Badoura, but all the talk was of prince Kummir al Zummaun, who was sick, and whose history greatly resembled hers.  Marzavan was extremely delighted on hearing this, and informed himself where the prince was to be found.  There were two ways to it; one, by land and sea; the other, by sea only, which was the shortest.

Marzavan chose the latter; and embarking on board a merchant ship, arrived safely in sight of Shaw Zummaun’s capital; but just before it entered the port, the ship struck upon a rock, by the unskilfulness of the pilot, and foundered:  it went down in sight of the castle, where at that time were the king and his grand vizier.

Marzavan, who could swim well, immediately upon the ship’s sinking cast himself into the sea, and got safe on shore under the castle, where he was soon relieved by the grand vizier’s order.  After he had changed his clothes, and been well treated, he was introduced to the grand vizier, who lead sent for him.

Marzavan being a young man of good address, the minister received him with great politeness; and was induced, from the just and pertinent answers he returned to the questions put to him, to regard him with great esteem.  Finding by degrees that he possessed great variety and extent of information, he said to him, “From what I can understand, I perceive you are no common man; you have travelled much:  would to God you had discovered some remedy for a malady which has been long a source of great affliction at this court.”

Marzavan replied, if he knew what malady it was, he might perhaps find a remedy applicable to it.

The grand vizier then related to him the story of prince Kummir al Zummaun.  He concealed nothing relating to his birth, which had been so earnestly desired, his education, the wish of the king his father to see him early married, his resistance and extraordinary aversion from marriage, his disobeying his father in full council, his imprisonment, his extravagancies in prison, which were afterwards changed into a violent passion for some unknown lady, who, he pretended, had exchanged a ring with him, though, for his part, he verily believed there was no such person in the world.

Marzavan gave great attention to all the grand vizier said, and was infinitely rejoiced to find that, by means of his shipwreck, he had so fortunately lighted on the person he was seeking.  He saw no reason to doubt that the prince was the man whom the princess of China so ardently loved, and that this princess was equally the object of his passion.  Without explaining himself farther to the vizier, he desired to see the prince, that he might be better able to judge of his disorder and its cure.  “Follow me,” said the grand vizier, “and you will find the king with him, who has already desired I should introduce you.”

On entering the prince’s chamber, the first thing Marzavan observed was the prince upon his bed languishing, and with his eyes shut.  Notwithstanding his condition, and regardless of the presence of the king his father, who was sitting by him, he could not avoid exclaiming, “Heavens! was there ever a greater resemblance?” He meant to the princess of China; for it seems the princess and the prince were much alike.

This exclamation of Marzavan excited the prince’s curiosity; he opened his eyes and looked at him.  Marzavan, who had a ready wit, seized that opportunity, and made his compliment in extempore verse; but in such a disguised manner, that neither the king nor the grand vizier under stood his meaning.  He represented so exactly what had happened to him with the princess of China, that the prince had no reason to doubt he knew her, and could give him tidings of her.  His countenance immediately brightened up with joy.

After Marzavan had finished his compliment in verse, which surprised Kummir al Zummaun so agreeably, the prince took the liberty of making a sign to the king his father, to give his place to Marzavan, and allow him to sit by him.

The king, overjoyed at this alteration, which inspired him with hopes of his son’s speedy recovery, quitted his place, and taking Marzavan by the hand, led him to it, obliging him to sit.  He then demanded of him who he was, and whence he had come?  And upon Marzavan’s answering he was a subject of China, and came from that kingdom, the king exclaimed, “Heaven grant you may be able to recover my son from this profound melancholy; I shall be eternally obliged to you, and all the world shall see how handsomely I will reward you.”  Having said thus, he left the prince to converse at full liberty with the stranger, whilst he went and rejoiced with the grand vizier on this happy incident.

Marzavan leaning down to the prince, addressed him in a low voice:  “Prince, it is time you should cease to grieve.  The lady, for whom you suffer, is the princess Badoura, daughter of Gaiour, king of China.  This I can assure your highness from what she has told me of her adventure, and what I have learned of yours.  She has suffered no less on your account than you have on hers.”  Here he related all that he knew of the princess’s story, from the night of their extraordinary interview.

He omitted not to acquaint him how the king had treated those who had failed in their endeavours to cure the princess of her indisposition.  “But your highness is the only person,” added he, “that can cure her effectually, and you may present yourself without fear.  However, before you undertake so long a voyage, I would have you perfectly recovered, and then we will take what measures may be necessary.  Think then immediately of the recovery of your health.”

This account had a marvellous effect on the prince.  The hopes of speedily fulfilling his desires so much relieved him, that he felt he had strength sufficient to rise, and begged permission of his father to dress himself, with such an air as gave him incredible pleasure.

Shaw Zummaun, without inquiring into the means he had used to produce this wonderful effect, could not refrain from embracing Marzavan, and soon after went out of the prince’s chamber with the grand vizier, to publish the agreeable tidings.  He ordered public rejoicings for several days together, gave great largesses to his officers and the people, and alms to the poor, and caused the prisoners to be set at liberty throughout his kingdom The joy was soon general in the capital, and in every part of his dominions.

Kummir al Zummaun, though extremely weakened by almost continual privation of sleep and long abstinence, soon recovered his health.  When he found himself in a condition to undertake the voyage, he took Marzavan aside, and said, “Dear Marzavan, it is now time to perform the promise you have made me.  My impatience to behold the charming princess, and to relieve her of the torments she is now suffering on my account, is such, that if we do not shortly depart, I shall relapse into my former indisposition.  One thing still afflicts me,” continued he, “and that is the difficulty I shall find, from his tender affection for me, to obtain my father’s permission to travel into a distant country.  You observe he scarcely allows me to be a moment out of his sight.”

At these words the prince wept.  Marzavan then replied, “I foresaw this difficulty, and I will take care it shall not obstruct us.  My principal design in this voyage was to cure the princess of China of her malady, and this on account of the mutual affection which we have borne to each other from our birth, as well as from the zeal and affection I otherwise owe her.  I should therefore be wanting in my duty to her, if I did not use my best endeavours to effect her cure and yours.  This is then the mode I have devised to obtain the king your father’s consent.  You have not stirred abroad for some time, therefore request his permission to go upon a hunting party with me.  He will no doubt comply.  When you have obtained his leave, obtain two fleet coursers for each of us to be got ready, one to mount, the other to change, and leave the rest to me.”

The following day the prince did as he had been instructed.  He acquainted the king he was desirous of taking the air, and, if he pleased, would go and hunt for two or three days with Marzavan.  The king gave his consent, but wished him not to be absent more than one night, since too much exercise at first might impair his health and a longer absence would make him uneasy.  He then ordered him to choose the best horses in the royal stable, and took particular care that nothing should be wanting for his accommodation.  When all was ready, he embraced the prince, and having recommended to Marzavan to be careful of him, he let him go.  Kummir al Zummaun and Marzavan were soon mounted, when, to amuse the two grooms who led the spare horses, they made as if they were going to hunt, and under this pretence got as far from the city and out of the high road as was possible.  When night began to approach, they alighted at a caravanserai or inn, where they supped, and slept till about midnight; when Marzavan awakened the prince, and desired his highness to let him have his dress, and to take another for himself, which was brought in his baggage.  Thus equipped, they mounted the fresh horses, and after Marzavan had taken one of the grooms’ horses by the bridle, they left the caravanserai.

At day-break they found themselves in a forest, where four roads met.  Here Marzavan, desiring the prince to wait for him a little, went into the wood.  He then cut the throat of the groom’s horse, and after having torn the suit which the prince had taken off, and besmeared it with blood, threw it into the highway.

The prince inquired his reason for what he had done.  He replied, he was sure that when the king his father found he did not return, and should learn that he had departed without the grooms, he would suspect something wrong, and immediately send in quest of them, “they who may come this way, finding this bloody habit, will conclude you are devoured by wild beasts, and that I have escaped to avoid the king’s anger.  The king, concluding you are dead, will stop further pursuit, and we may have leisure to continue our journey without fear of being followed.”  “I must confess,” continued Marzavan, “it is a violent way of proceeding, to alarm a fond father with the death of his son, but his joy will be the greater when he shall hear you are alive and happy.”  “Breve Marzavan,” replied the prince, “I cannot but approve such an ingenious stratagem, or sufficiently admire your conduct:  you place me under fresh obligations to you.”

The prince and Marzavan being well provided for their expenses, continued their journey both by land and sea, and found no other obstacle but the length of the time which it necessarily took up.  They arrived at length at the capital of China, where Marzavan, instead of going to his house, carried the prince to a public inn.  They remained there incognito three days, to rest themselves after the fatigue of the voyage; during which time Marzavan caused an astrologer’s habit to be made for the prince.  The three days being expired, they went together to the bath, where the prince put on his astrologer’s dress:  from thence Marzavan conducted him to the neighbourhood of the king of China’s palace, where he left him, to go and inform his mother of his arrival.

Kummir al Zummaun, instructed by Marzavan what he was to do, came next morning to the gate of the king’s palace, and cried aloud, “I am an astrologer, and am come to cure the illustrious princess Badoura, daughter of the most high and mighty monarch Gaiour king of China, on the conditions proposed by his majesty, to marry her if I succeed, or else to lose my life for my fruitless and presumptuous attempt.”

Besides the guards and porters at the gate, this incident drew together a great number of people about the prince.  There had no physician, astrologer, or magician appeared for a long time on this account, being deterred by the many tragical examples of ill success that appeared before; it was therefore thought there remained no more of these professions in the world, or none so mad as those that had already forfeited their lives.

The prince’s appearance, his noble air, and blooming youth, made every one who saw him pity him.  “What mean you, sir,” said some that were nearest to him, “thus to expose a life of such promising expectations to certain death?  Cannot the heads you see on all the gates of this city deter you from such an undertaking?  In the name of God consider what you do! abandon this rash attempt, and depart.”

The prince continued firm, notwithstanding all these remonstrances; and as he saw no one coming to introduce him, he repeated the same cry with a boldness that made every body tremble.  They all then exclaimed, “Let him alone, he is resolved to die; God have mercy on his youth and his soul!” He then proceeded to cry a third time in the same manner, when the grand vizier came in person, and introduced him to the king of China.

As soon as the prince came into the presence, he bowed and kissed the ground.  The king, who, among all that had hitherto presumptuously exposed their lives on this occasion, had not before seen one worthy of his attention, felt real compassion for Kummir al Zummaun, on account of the danger to which he exposed himself.  “Young man,” said he, “I can hardly believe that at this age you can have acquired experience enough to dare attempt the cure of my daughter.  I wish you may succeed, and would give her to you in marriage with all my heart, and with the greatest joy, more willingly than I should have done to others that have offered themselves before you; but I must declare to you at the same time, though with great concern, that if you fail, notwithstanding your noble appearance and your youth, you must lose your head.”

“Sir,” replied the prince, “I have infinite obligations to your majesty for the honour you design me, and the great goodness you shew to a stranger; but I desire your majesty to believe I would not have come from so remote a country as I have done, the name of which perhaps may be unknown in your dominions, if I had not been certain of the cure I propose.  What would not the world say of my fickleness, if, after such great fatigues and so many dangers as I have undergone in the pursuit, I should abandon this generous enterprise?  Even your majesty would lose that esteem you have conceived for me.  If I perish, I shall die with the satisfaction of not having forfeited your good opinion.  I beseech your majesty therefore to keep me no longer from displaying the certainty of my art, by the proof I am ready to afford.”

The king now commanded the eunuch, who had the custody of the princess, to introduce Kummir al Zummaun into her apartment:  but before he would let him go, reminded him once more that he was at liberty to renounce his design; but the prince paid no regard to this, and with astonishing resolution and eagerness followed the eunuch.

When they had entered a long gallery, at the end of which was the princess’s apartment, the prince, who saw himself so near the objets of his wishes, who had occasioned him so many tears, pushed on, and got before the eunuch.

The eunuch redoubling his pace, with difficulty got up to him, “Wither so fast?” cried he, taking him by the arm; “you cannot get in without me; and it should seem you have a great desire for death, thus to run to it headlong.  Not one of all those many astrologers and magicians I have introduced before made such haste as yourself, to a place whence I fear you will come but too soon.”

“Friend,” replied the prince, looking earnestly on the eunuch, and continuing his pace, “this was because none of the astrologers you speak of were so confident in their art as I am:  they were certain indeed they should die, if they did not succeed, but they had no certainty of their success.  On this account they had reason to tremble on approaching this spot, where I am sure to find my happiness.”  He had just spoken these words when he reached the door.  The eunuch opened it, and introduced him into a great hall, whence was an entrance into the princess’s apartment, divided from it only by a piece of tapestry.

The prince stopped before he entered, speaking more softly to the eunuch for fear of being heard by the princess.  “To convince you,” said he; “there is neither presumption, nor whim, nor youthful conceit in my undertaking, I leave it to your choice whether I shall cure the princess in her presence, or where we are, without going any farther, or seeing her?”

The eunuch was amazed to hear the prince talk to him with such confidence:  he left off jeering, and said seriously to him, “It is no matter where it is done, provided it be effected:  cure her how you will, if you succeed you will gain immortal honour, not only in this court, but over all the world.”

The prince replied, “It will be best then to cure her without seeing her, that you may be witness of my skill; notwithstanding my impatience to see a princess of her rank, who is to be my wife, yet out of respect to you, I will deprive myself of that pleasure for a little while.”  Being furnished with every thing proper for an astrologer to carry about him, he took pen, ink, and paper our of his pocket, and wrote the following billet to the princess.

“The impassioned Kummir al Zummaun cannot recite the inexpressible pain he has endured since that fatal night in which your charms deprived him of the liberty which he had resolved to preserve.  He only tells you that he devoted his heart to you in your charming slumbers; those obstinate slumbers which hindered him from beholding the brightness of your piercing eyes, notwithstanding all his endeavours to oblige you to open them.  He presumed to present you with his ring as a token of his passion; and to take yours in exchange, which he encloses.  If you condescend to return his as a reciprocal pledge of love, he will esteem himself the happiest of mankind.  If not, the sentence of death, which your refusal must draw upon him, will be received with resignation, since he will perish on account of his love for you.”

When the prince had finished his billet, he folded it up, and enclosed in it the princess’s ring.  “There, friend,” said he to the eunuch, “carry this to your mistress; if it does not cure her as soon as she reads it, and sees what it contains, I give you leave to tell every body, that I am the most ignorant and impudent astrologer that ever existed.”

The eunuch entering the princess of China’s apartment, gave her the packet, saying, “The boldest astrologer that ever lived is arrived here, and pretends, that on reading this letter and seeing what it encloses, you will be cured; I wish he may prove neither a liar nor an impostor.”

The princess Badoura took the billet, and opened it with indifference:  but when she saw the ring, she had not patience to read it through:  she rose hastily, broke the chain that held her, ran to the door and opened it.  They immediately recognized each other, tenderly embraced, and without being able to speak for excess of joy, looked at one another, wondering how they met again after their first interview.  The princess’s nurse, who ran to the door with her, made them come into her apartment, where the princess Badoura gave the prince her ring, saying, “Take it, I cannot keep it without restoring yours; which I will never part with; neither can it be in better hands.”

The eunuch went immediately to inform the king of China of what had happened:  “Sir,” said he, “all the astrologers and doctors who have hitherto pretended to cure the princess were fools compared with the present.  He made use neither of schemes nor conjurations, of perfumes, nor any thing else, but cured her without seeing her.”  The monarch was agreeably surprised at this intelligence, and going to the princess’s apartment, he embraced her, and afterwards the prince, and taking his hand joined it to the princess’s, saying, “Happy stranger, whoever you are, I will keep my word, and give you my daughter for your wife; though, by what I see in you, it is impossible for me to believe you are really what you pretend, and would have me take you to be.”

Kummir al Zummaun thanked the king in the most humble expressions, that he might the better shew his gratitude.  “As for my condition,” said he, “I must own I am not an astrologer, as your majesty has guessed; I only put on the habit of one, that I might succeed the more easily in my ambition to be allied to the most potent monarch in the world.  I was born a prince, and the son of a king and of a queen; my name is Kummir al Zummaun; my father is Shaw Zummaun, who now reigns over the islands that are well known by the name of the Islands of the Children of Khaledan.”  He then related to him his history, and how wonderful had been the origin of his love; that the princess’s was altogether as marvellous; and that both were confirmed by the exchange of the two rings.

When the prince had done speaking, the king said to him, “This history is so extraordinary, it deserves to be known to posterity; I will take care it shall; and the original being deposited in my royal archives, I will spread copies of it abroad, that my own kingdoms and the kingdoms around me may know it.”

The marriage was solemnized the same day, and the rejoicings were universal all over the empire of China.  Nor was Marzavan forgotten:  the king gave him an honourable post in his court, and a promise of further advancement.

The prince and princess enjoyed the fulness of their wishes in the sweets of marriage; and the king kept continual feastings for several months, to manifest his joy on the occasion.

In the midst of these pleasures Kummir al Zummaun dreamt one night that he saw his father on his bed at the point of death, and heard him thus address his attendants:  “My son, to whom I gave birth; my son, whom I so tenderly loved whom I bred with so much fondness, so much care, has abandoned me, and is himself the cause of my death.”  He awoke with a profound sigh, which alarmed the princess, who asked him the cause.

“Alas! my love,” replied the prince, “perhaps at the very moment while I am speaking, the king my father is no more.”  He then acquainted her with his melancholy dream, which occasioned him so much uneasiness.  The princess, who studied to please him in every thing, went to her father the next day, kissed his hand, and thus addressed him:  “I have a favour to beg of your majesty, and I beseech you not to deny me; but that you may not believe I ask it at the solicitation of the prince my husband, I assure you beforehand he knows nothing of my request:  it is, that you will grant me your permission to go with him and visit his father.”

“Daughter,” replied the king, “though I shall be sorry to part with you for so long a time as a journey to a place so distant will require, yet I cannot disapprove of your resolution; it is worthy of yourself:  go, child, I give you leave, but on condition that you stay no longer than a year in Shaw Zummaun’s court.  I hope the king will agree to this, that we shall alternately see, he his son and his daughter-in-law, and I my daughter and my son-in-law.”

The princess communicated the king of China’s consent to her husband, who was transported to receive it, and returned her thanks for this new token of her love.

The king of China gave orders for preparations to be made for their departure; and when all things were ready, he accompanied the prince and princess several days’ journey on their way; they parted at length with much affliction on both sides:  the king embraced them; and having desired the prince to be kind to his daughter, and to love her always with the same tenderness he now did, he left them to proceed, and to divert himself, hunted as he returned to his capital.

When the prince and princess had recovered from their grief, they comforted themselves with considering how glad Shaw Zummaun would be to see them, and how they should rejoice to see the king.

After travelling about a month, they one day entered a plain of great extent, planted at convenient distances with tall trees, forming an agreeable shade.  The day being unusually hot, the prince thought it best to encamp there, and proposed it to Badoura, who, having the same wish, the more readily consented.  They alighted in one of the finest spots; a tent was presently set up; the princess, rising from the shade under which she had sat down, entered it.  The prince then ordered his attendants to pitch their tents, and went himself to give directions.  The princess, weary with the fatigues of the journey, bade her women untie her girdle, which they laid down by her; and she falling asleep, they left her alone.

Kummir al Zummaun having seen all things in order, came to the tent where the princess was sleeping:  he entered, and sat down without making any noise, intending to repose himself; but observing the princess’s girdle lying by her, he took it up, and looked at the diamonds and rubies one by one.  In viewing it he observed a little purse hanging to it, sewed neatly on the stuff, and tied fast with a riband; he felt it, and found it contained something solid.  Desirous to know what it was, he opened the purse, and took out a cornelian, engraven with unknown figures and characters.  “This cornelian,” said the prince to himself, “must be something very valuable, or my princess would not carry it with so much care.”  It was Badoura’s talisman, which the queen of China had given her daughter as a charm, that would keep her, as she said, from any harm as long as she had it about her.

The prince, the better to look at the talisman, took it out to the light, the tent being dark; and while he was holding it up in his hand, a bird darted down from the air and snatched it away from him.

One will easily conceive the concern and grief of the prince, when he saw the bird fly away with the talisman.  He was more troubled than words can express, and cursed his unseasonable curiosity, by which his dear princess had lost a treasure, that was so precious, and so valued by her.

The bird having got its prize, settled on the ground not far off, with the talisman in its mouth.  The prince drew near it, hoping it would drop it; but as he approached, the bird took wing, and settled again on the ground further off.  Kummir al Zummaun followed, and the bird took a further flight:  the prince being very dexterous at a mark, thought to kill it with a stone, and still pursued; the further it flew, the more eager he grew in pursuing, keeping it always in view.  Thus the bird drew him along from hill to valley, and valley to hill, all the day, every step leading him out of the way from the plain where he had left his camp and the princess Badoura:  and instead of perching at night on a bush, where he might probably have taken it, roosted on a high tree, safe from his pursuit.  The prince, vexed to the heart at having taken so much pains to no purpose, thought of returning; “But,” said he to himself, “which way shall I return?  Shall I go down the hills and valleys which I have passed overt’ Shall I wander in darkness? and will my strength bear me out?  How shall I dare appear before my princess without her talisman?” Overwhelmed with such thoughts, and tired with the pursuit, sleep came upon him, and he lay down under a tree, where he passed the night.

He awoke the next morning before the bird had left the tree, and as soon as he saw it on the wing, followed it again the whole of that day, with no better success than he had done the last, eating nothing but herbs and fruits as he went.  He did the same for ten days together, pursuing the bird, and keeping it in view from morning to night, lying always under the tree where it roosted.  On the eleventh day, the bird continued flying, and Kummir al Zummaun pursuing it, came near a great city.  When the bird had reached the walls, it flew over them, and the prince saw no more of it; so that he despaired of ever recovering the princess Badoura’s talisman.

The prince, whose grief was beyond expression, went into the city, which was built on the seaside, and had a fine port; he walked up and down the streets without knowing where he was, or where to stop.  At last he came to the port, in as great uncertainty as ever what he should do.  Walking along the shore, he perceived the gate of a garden open, and an old gardener at work in it; the good man looking up, saw he was a stranger and a Moosulmaun, and asked him to come in, and shut the door after him.

Kummir al Zummaun entered, and demanded of the gardener why he was so cautious?  “Because,” replied the old man, “I see you are a stranger newly arrived; and this city is inhabited for the most part by idolaters, who have a mortal aversion to us Moosulmauns, and treat a few of us that are here with great barbarity.  I suppose you did not know this, and it is a miracle that you have escaped as you have thus far:  these idolaters being very apt to fall upon strangers, or draw them into a snare.  I bless God, who has brought you into a place of safety.”

Kummir al Zummaun thanked the honest gardener for his advice, and the security he offered him in his house; he would have said more, but the good man interrupted him, saying, “Let us leave complimenting; you are weary, and must want to refresh yourself.  Come in, and rest.”  He conducted him into his little hut; and after the prince had eaten heartily of what he set before him, with a cordiality that charmed him, he requested him to relate how he had come there.

The prince complied; and when he had finished his story, without concealing any part of it, asked him which was the nearest route to his father’s territories; saying, “It is in vain for me to think of finding my princess where I left her, after wandering eleven days from the spot by so extraordinary an adventure.  Ah!” continued he, “how do I know she is alive?” and saying this, he burst into tears.  The gardener replied, “There was no possibility of his going thither by land, the ways were so difficult, and the journey so long; besides, there was no accommodation for his subsistence; or, if there were, he must necessarily pass through the countries of so many barbarous nations, that he would never reach his father’s.  It was a year’s journey from the city where he then was to any country inhabited only by Moosulmauns; that the quickest passage for him would be to go to the isle of Ebene, whence he might easily transport himself to the isles of the children of Khaledan; that a ship sailed from the port every year to Ebene, and he might take that opportunity of returning to those islands.”  “The ship departed,” said he, “but a few days ago; if you had come a little sooner, you might have taken your passage in it.  You must wait till it makes the voyage again, and if you will stay with me and accept of my house, such as it is, you shall be as welcome to it as to your own.”

The prince was glad he had met with such an asylum, in a place where he had no acquaintance.  He accepted the offer, and lived with the gardener till the time arrived that the ship was to sail to the isle of Ebene.  He spent the interval in working by day in the garden, and passing the night in sighs, tears, and complaints, thinking of his dear princess Badoura.  We must leave him in this place, to return to the princess, whom we left asleep in her tent.

The princess slept a long time, and when she awoke, wondered that the prince was not with her; she called her women, and asked if they knew where he was.  They told her they saw him enter the tent, but did not see him go out.  While they were talking to her, she took up her girdle, found her little purse open, and that the talisman was gone.  She did not doubt but that the prince had taken it to see what it was, and that he would bring it back with him.  She waited for him impatiently till night, and could not imagine what made him stay away from her so long.

When it was quite dark, and she could hear no tidings of him, she fell into violent grief:  she cursed the talisman, and him that made it; and, had not she been restrained by duty, would have cursed the queen her mother, who had given her such a fatal present.  She was the more troubled, because she could not imagine how her talisman should have caused the prince’s separation from her; she did not however lose her judgment, and came to a courageous resolution, not common with persons of her sex.

Only herself and her women knew of the prince’s absence; for his men were reposing or asleep in their tents.  The princess, fearing they would betray her, if they had any knowledge of this circumstance, moderated her grief, and forbade her women to say or do any thing that might create the least suspicion.  She then laid aside her own habit, and put on one of Kummir al Zummaun’s.  She was so much like him, that the next day, when she came abroad, the male attendants took her for the prince.

She commanded them to pack up their baggage and begin their march; and when all things were ready, she ordered one of her women to go into her litter, she herself mounting on horseback, and riding by her side.

She travelled several months by land and sea; the princess continuing the journey under the name of Kummir al Zummaun.  They touched at Ebene in their way to the isles of the children of Khaledan, and went to the capital of the island, where a king reigned, whose name was Armanos.  The persons who first landed, giving out that the ship carried prince Kummir al Zummaun, who was returning from a long voyage, and was forced in by a storm, the news of his arrival was soon carried to court.

King Armanos, accompanied by his courtiers’ went immediately to wait on the prince, and met the princess just as she was landing, and going to the palace that had been prepared for her.  He received her as the son of a king, who was his friend, and with whom he always kept up a good understanding:  he conducted her to the palace, where an apartment was prepared for her and all her attendants; though she would fain have excused herself.  He shewed her all possible honour, and entertained her three days together with extraordinary magnificence.  At the end of this time king Armanos understanding that the princess intended proceeding on her voyage, charmed with the air and qualities of such an accomplished prince, as he supposed her, took an opportunity when she was alone, and spoke to her in this manner:  “You see, prince, that I am old, and to my great mortification have not a son to whom I may leave my crown.  Heaven has only blest me with one daughter, whose beauty cannot be better matched than with a prince of your rank and accomplishments.  Instead of going home, stay and accept my crown, which I will resign in your favour.  It is time for me to rest, and nothing could be a greater pleasure to me in my retirement, than to see my people ruled by so worthy a successor to my throne.”

The king’s offer to bestow his only daughter in marriage, and with her his kingdom, on the princess Badoura, put her into unexpected perplexity.  She thought it would not become a princess of her rank to undeceive the king, and to own that she was not prince Kummir al Zummaun, whose part she had hitherto acted so well.  She was also afraid to decline the honour he offered her, lest, being so much bent upon the conclusion of the marriage, his kindness might turn to aversion, and he might attempt something even against her life.

These considerations, added to the prospect of obtaining a kingdom for the prince her husband, in case she found him again, determined her to accept the proposal of king Armanos, and marry his daughter.  After having stood silent for some minutes, she with blushes, which the king took for a sign of modesty, answered, “I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for your good opinion of me, for the honour you do me, and the great favour you offer, which I cannot pretend to merit, and dare not refuse.”

“But,” continued she, “I cannot accept this great alliance on any other condition, than that your majesty will assist me with your counsels, and that I do nothing without having first obtained your approbation.”

The marriage treaty being thus concluded, the ceremony was put off till the next day.  In the mean time princess Badoura gave notice to her officers, who still took her for their prince, of what she was about to do, that they might not be surprised, assuring them the princess Badoura consented.  She talked also to her women, and charged them to continue to keep the secret she had entrusted to them.

The king of the isle of Ebene, rejoicing that he had found a son-in-law so much to his satisfaction, next morning summoned his council, and acquainted them with his design of marrying his daughter to prince Kummir al Zummaun, whom he introduced to them, and told them he resigned the crown to him, and required them to acknowledge him for their king, and swear fealty to him.  Having said this, he descended from his throne, and the princess Badoura, by his order, ascended it.  As soon as the council broke up, the new king was proclaimed through the city, rejoicings were appointed for several days, and couriers despatched over all the kingdom, to see the same ceremonies observed with the usual demonstrations of joy.

At night there were extraordinary feastings at the palace, and the princess Haiatalnefous was conducted to the princess Badoura, whom every body took for a man, dressed like a royal bride:  the wedding was solemnized with the utmost splendour:  they were left together, and retired to bed.  In the morning, while the princess Badoura went to receive the compliments of the nobility in the hall of audience, where they congratulated her on her marriage and accession to the throne, king Armanos and his queen went to the apartment of their daughter to inquire after her health.  Instead of answering, she held down her head, and by her looks they saw plainly enough that she was disappointed.

King Armanos, to comfort the princess Haiatalnefous, bade her not be troubled.  “Prince Kummir al Zummaun,” said he, “when he landed here might think only of going to his father’s court.  Though we have engaged him to stay by arguments, with which he ought to be well satisfied, yet it is probable he grieves at being so suddenly deprived of the hopes of seeing either his father or any of his family.  You must wait till those first emotions of filial love are over; he will then conduct himself towards you as a good husband ought to do.”

The princess Badoura, under the name and character of Kummir al Zummaun, the king of Ebene, spent the whole day in receiving the compliments of the courtiers and the nobility of the kingdom who were in and about the city, and in reviewing the regular troops of her household; and entered on the administration of affairs with so much dignity and judgment, that she gained the general applause of all who were witnesses of her conduct.

It was evening before she returned to queen Haiatalnefous’s apartment, and she perceived by the reception she gave her, that the bride was not at all pleased with the preceding night.  She endeavoured to dissipate her grief by a long conversation, in which she employed all the wit she had (and she possessed a good share), to persuade her she loved her entirely.  She then gave her time to go to bed, and while she was undressing she went to her devotions; her prayers were so long, that queen Haiatalnefous was asleep before they were ended.  She then left off, and lay down softly by the new queen, without waking her, and was as much afflicted at being forced to act a part which did not belong to her, as in the loss of her dear Kummir al Zummaun, for whom she:  ceased not to sigh.  She rose as soon as it was day, before Haiatalnefous was awake; and, being dressed in her royal robes as king, went to council.

King Armanos, as he had done the day before, came early to visit the queen his daughter, whom he found in tears; he wanted nothing more to be informed of the cause of her trouble.  Provoked at the contempt, as he thought, put upon his daughter, of which he could not imagine the reason:  “Daughter,” said he, “have patience for another night.  I raised your husband to the throne, and can pull him down again, and drive him thence with shame, unless he shews you proper regard.  His treatment of you has provoked me so much, I cannot tell to what my resentment may transport me; the affront is as great to me as to you.”

It was late again before the princess Badoura came to queen Haiatalnefous.  She talked to her as she had done the night before, and after the same manner went to her devotions, desiring the queen to go to bed.  But Haiatalnefous would not be so served; she held her back, and obliged her to sit down.  “Tell me, I beseech you,” said she, “what can you dislike in a princess of my youth and beauty, who not only loves but adores you, and thinks herself the happiest of women in having so amiable a prince for her husband.  Any body but me would be not merely offended but shocked by the slight, or rather the unpardonable affront you have put upon me, and abandon you to your evil destiny.  However, though I did not love you so well as I do, yet out of pure good-nature and humanity, which makes me pity the misfortunes of persons for whom I am less concerned, I cannot forbear telling you, that the king my father is enraged against you for your behaviour towards me, and to-morrow will make you feel the weight of his just anger, if you continue to neglect me as you have hitherto done.  Do not therefore drive to despair a princess, who, notwithstanding all your ill usage, cannot help loving you.”

This address embarrassed the princess Badoura inexpressibly.  She did not doubt the truth of what Haiatalnefous had said.  King Armanos’s coldness to her the day before had given her but too much reason to see he was highly dissatisfied with her.  The only way to justify her conduit was, to communicate her sex to the princess Haiatalnefous.  But though she had foreseen she should be under a necessity of making such a discovery to her, yet her uncertainty as to the manner in which she would receive it, made her tremble; but, considering that if Kummir al Zummaun was alive, he must necessarily touch at the isle of Ebene in his way to his father’s kingdom, she ought to preserve herself for his sake; and that it was impossible to do this, if she did not let the princess Haiatalnefous know who and what she was, she resolved to venture the experiment.

The princess Badoura stood as one who had been struck dumb, and Haiatalnefous being impatient to hear what she could say, was about to speak to her again, when she prevented her by these words:  “Lovely and too charming princess!  I own I have been in the wrong, and I condemn myself for it; but I hope you will pardon me, and keep the secret I am going to reveal to you for my justification.”

She then opened her bosom, and proceeded thus:  “See, princess, if a woman like yourself does not deserve to be forgiven.  I believe you will be so generous, at least when you know my story, and the afflicting circumstance that forced me to act the part I have done.”

The princess Badoura having discovered her sex to the princess of the isle of Ebene, she again prayed her to keep the secret, and to pretend to be satisfied with her as a husband, till the prince’s arrival, which she hoped would be in a little time.

“Princess,” replied Haiatalnefous, “your fortune is indeed strange, that a marriage, so happy as yours, should be shortened by so unaccountable an accident, after a passion so reciprocal and full of wonders.  Pray heaven you may soon meet with your husband again, and assure yourself I will keep religiously the secret committed to me.  It will be to me the greatest pleasure in the world to be the only person in the great kingdom of the isle of Ebene who knows what and who you are, while you go on governing the people as happily as you have begun.  I only ask of you at present to be your friend.”  Then the two princesses tenderly embraced each other, and after a thousand expressions of mutual friendship lay down to rest.

The two princesses having decided on a way to make belief that the marriage had been consummated:  queen Haiatalnefous’s women were deceived themselves next morning, and it deceived Armanos, his queen, and the whole court.  From this time the princess Badoura rose in the king’s esteem and affection, governing the kingdom peaceably and prosperously.

While things passed as already mentioned in the court of the isle of Ebene, prince Kummir al Zummaun remained in the city of idolaters with the gardener, who had offered him his house for a retreat till the ship should sail to convey him away.

One morning early, when the prince was as usual preparing to work in the garden, the gardener prevented him, saying, “This day is a great festival among the idolaters, and because they abstain from all work themselves, to spend the time in their assemblies and public rejoicings, they will not let the Moosulmauns labour; who, to gain their favour, generally attend their shows, which are worth seeing.  You will therefore have nothing to do to-day:  I leave you here.  As the time approaches, at which it is usual for the ship to sail for the isle of Ebene, I will call on some of my friends to know when it will depart, and secure you a passage.”  The gardener put on his best apparel, and went out.

When the prince was alone, instead of going out to share in the public joy of the city, his solitude brought to his mind, with more than usual violence, the loss of his dear princess.  He walked up and down the garden sighing and lamenting, till the noise which two birds made on a neighbouring tree led him to lift up his head, to see what was the matter.

Kummir al Zummaun was surprised to observe that the birds were fighting furiously:  in a very little while, one of them fell down dead at the foot of the tree; the victorious bird took wing again, and flew away.

In an instant, two other large birds, that had beheld the battle at a distance, came from the other side of the garden, and pitched on the ground, one at the feet, and the other at the head of the dead bird:  they looked at it for some time, shaking their heads in token of grief; after which they dug a grave with their talons, and buried it.

When they had filled up the grave with the earth they had turned up, they flew away, but returned in a few minutes, bringing with them the bird that had committed the murder, one holding one of its wings in its beak, and the other one of its legs; the criminal all the while crying out in a doleful manner, and struggling to escape.  They carried it to the grave of the bird which it had lately sacrificed to its rage, and there killed it in just revenge for the murder it had committed.  They opened its belly, tore out the entrails, left the body on the spot unburied, and flew away.

The prince had remained in astonishment all the time that he stood beholding this singular spectacle.  He now drew near the tree where this scene had passed, and casting his eyes on the scattered entrails of the bird that had been last killed, spied something red hanging out of the stomach.  He took it up, and found it was his beloved princess Badoura’s talisman, which had cost him so much pain and sorrow, and so many sighs, since the bird had snatched it out of his hand.  “Ah, cruel!” said he to himself; still looking on the bird, “thou took’st delight in doing mischief, so I have the less reason to complain of that which thou didst to me:  but the greater it was, the more do I wish well to those that revenged my quarrel, punishing thee for the murder of one of their own kind.”

It is impossible to express the prince’s joy:  “Dear princess,” continued he to himself, “this happy minute, which restores to me a treasure so precious to thee, is, without doubt, a presage of our meeting again, and perhaps sooner than I think of.  Thank heaven who sent me this good fortune, and gives me hope of the greatest felicity that my heart can desire.”

Saying this, he kissed the talisman, wrapped it up in a riband, and tied it carefully about his arm.  He had been almost every night a stranger to rest, the recollection of his misfortunes keeping him awake, but this night he enjoyed calm repose:  he rose somewhat later the next morning than he used to do, and went to the gardener for orders.  The good man bade him root up an old tree which bore no fruit.

Kummir al Zummaun took an axe and began his work.  In cutting off a branch of the root, he found his axe struck against something that resisted the blow.  He removed the earth, and discovered a broad plate of brass, under which was a staircase of ten steps.  He went down, and at the bottom saw a cavity about six yards square with fifty brass urns placed in order, each with a cover over it.  He opened them all, one after another, and found they were all of them full of gold-dust.  He came out of the cave, rejoicing that he had found such a vast treasure, put the brass plate on the staircase, and had the tree rooted up by the gardener’s return.

The gardener had ascertained that the ship which was bound for the isle of Ebene, would sail in a few days, but the exact time was not yet fixed.  His friend promised to let him know the day, if he called upon him on the morrow; and while the prince was rooting up the tree, he went to have his answer.  He returned with a joyful countenance, by which the prince guessed he brought him good news.  “Son,” said the old man (so he always called him on account of the difference of years between him and the prince) “be joyful, and prepare to embark in three days; the ship will then certainly sail; I have agreed with the captain for your passage.”

“In my present situation,” replied Kummir al Zummaun, “you could not bring me more agreeable intelligence; and in return, I have also tidings that will be as welcome to you:  come along with me, and you shall see what good fortune heaven has in store for you.”

The prince led the gardener to the place where he had rooted up the tree, made him go down into the cave, shewed him what a treasure he had discovered, thanking Providence for rewarding his virtue, and the pains he had been at for so many years.  “What do you mean?” replied the gardener:  “do you imagine I will take these riches as mine?  The property is yours:  I have no right to it.  For fourscore years, since my father’s death, I have done nothing but dig in this garden, and could not discover this treasure, which is a sign it was destined for you, since God has permitted you to find it.  It is better suited to a prince like you than to me; I have one foot in the grave, and am in no want of any thing.  Providence has bestowed it upon you, just when you are returning to that country, which will one day be your own, where you will make good use of it.”

Kummir al Zummaun would not be surpassed in generosity by the gardener.  They disputed for some time.  At last the prince solemnly protested, that he would have none of it, unless the gardener would divide it with him.  The good man, to please the prince, consented; so they shared it between them, and each had twenty-five urns.

“Having thus divided it, son,” said the gardener to the prince, “it is not enough that you have got this treasure; we must now contrive to carry it privately aboard, otherwise you will run the risk of losing it.  There are no olives in the isle of Ebene, those that are exported hence are a good commodity there:  you know I have plenty of them, take what you will; fill fifty pots, half with the gold-dust and half with olives, and I will get them carried to the ship when you embark.”

The prince followed this advice, and spent the rest of the day in packing up the gold and the olives in the fifty pots, and fearing the talisman, which he wore on his arm, might be lost again, he carefully put it into one of the pots, with a particular mark to distinguish it from the rest.  When they were all ready to be shipped, night coming on, the prince retired with the gardener, and related to him the battle of the birds, with the circumstance by which he had found the talisman.  The gardener was equally surprised and joyful to hear it on his account.  Whether the old man was quite worn out with age, or had exhausted himself too much that day, the gardener had a very bad night; he grew worse the next day, and on the third day, when the prince was to embark, was so ill, that it was plain he was near his end.  As soon as day broke, the captain of the ship came with several seamen to the gardener’s; they knocked at the garden-door, which the prince opened to them.  They asked him for the passenger who was to go with them.  The prince answered, “I am he; the gardener who agreed with you for my passage is sick, and cannot be spoken with; come in, and let your men carry those pots of olives and my baggage aboard for me; I will only take leave of the gardener, and follow you.”

The seamen took the pots and the baggage, and the captain bade the prince make haste, the wind being fair.

When the captain and his men were gone, Kummir al Zummaun went to the gardener to take his leave of him, and thanked him for all his good offices; but found him in the agonies of death, and had scarcely time to bid him rehearse the articles of his faith, which all good Moosulmauns do before they die, before the gardener expired.

The prince being under the necessity of embarking immediately, hastened to pay the last duty to the deceased.  He washed his body, buried him in his own garden, and having nobody to assist him, it was almost evening before he had put him into the ground.  As soon as he had done, he ran to the water-side, carrying with him the key of the garden, designing, if he had time, to give it to the landlord; otherwise to deposit it in some trusty person’s hand before a witness, that he might have it after he was gone.  When he reached the port, he was told the ship had sailed several hours, and was already out of sight.  It had waited three hours for him, and the wind standing fair, the captain durst not stay longer.

It is easy to imagine that Kummir al Zummaun was exceedingly grieved at being forced to remain longer in a country where he neither had, nor wished to have, any acquaintance; to think that he must wait another year for the opportunity he had lost.  But the greatest affliction of all was, his having parted with the princess Badoura’s talisman, which he now considered lost.  The only course left him was to return to the garden from whence he had come, to rent it of the landlord and continue to cultivate it by himself, deploring his misery and misfortunes.  He hired a boy to assist him to do some part of the drudgery:  that he might not lose the other half of the treasure which came to him by the death of the gardener, who died without heirs, he put the gold-dust into fifty other jars, which he filled up with olives, to be ready against the ship’s return.

While the prince was beginning another year of labour, sorrow, and impatience, the ship having a fair wind, continued her voyage to the isle of Ebene, and happily arrived at the capital.

The palace being by the sea side, the new king, or rather the princess Badoura, espying the ship as she was entering into the port, with all her flags, asked what vessel it was:  she was answered, that it came annually from the city of the idolaters, and was generally richly laden.

The princess, who always had Kummir al Zummaun in her mind, imagined that the prince might be aboard; and resolved to visit the ship and meet him, without discovering herself; but to observe him, and take proper measures for their making themselves mutually known.  Under pretence of inquiring what merchandize was on board, and having the first sight of the goods, she commanded a horse to be brought, which she mounted, accompanied by several officers in waiting, and arrived at the port, just as the captain came ashore.  She ordered him to be brought before her, asked whence he had come, how long he had been on his voyage, and what good or bad fortune he had met with:  if he had no stranger of quality aboard, and particularly with what his ship was laden.

The captain gave a satisfactory answer to all her demands; and as to passengers, assured her there were none but merchants in his ship, who used to come every year, and bring rich stuffs from several parts of the world to trade with, the finest linens painted and plain, diamonds, musk, ambergris, camphire, civet, spices, drugs, olives, and many other articles.

The princess Badoura loved olives extremely when she heard the captain speak of them, “Land them,” said she, “I will take them off your hands; as to the other goods, tell the merchants to bring them to me, and let me see them before they dispose of, or shew them to any one.”

The captain taking her for the king of the isle of Ebene, replied, “Sire, there are fifty great jars of olives, but they belong to a merchant whom I was forced to leave behind.  I gave him notice myself that I stayed for him, and waited a long time, but he not coming, and the wind offering, I was afraid of losing the opportunity, and so set sail.”  The princess answered, “No matter, bring them ashore; we will nevertheless make a bargain for them.”

The captain sent the boat, which in a little time returned with the olives.  The princess demanded how much the fifty jars might be worth in the isle of Ebene?  “Sir,” replied the captain, “the merchant is very poor, and your majesty will do him a singular favour if you give him one thousand pieces of silver.”

“To satisfy him,” said the princess, “and because you tell me he is poor, I will order you one thousand pieces of gold for him, which do you take care to give him.”  The money was accordingly paid, and the jars carried to the palace.

Night drawing on the princess withdrew into the inner palace, and went to the princess Haiatalnefous’s apartment, ordering the olives to be brought thither.  She opened one jar to let the princess Haiatalnefous taste them, and poured them into a dish.  Great was her astonishment, when she found the olives were mingled with gold-dust.  “What can this mean!” said she, “It is wonderful beyond comprehension.”  Her curiosity increasing from so extraordinary an adventure, she ordered Haiatalnefous’s women to open and empty all the jars in her presence; and her wonder was still greater, when she saw that the olives in all of them were mixed with gold-dust; but when she saw her talisman drop out, she was so surprised that she fainted away.  Haiatalnefous and her women brought the princess to herself, by throwing cold water in her face.  When she recovered, she took the talisman, and kissed it again and again; but not being willing that the princess Haiatalnefous’s women, who were ignorant of her disguise, should hear what she said, and it growing late, she dismissed them.  “Princess,” said she to Haiatalnefous, as soon as they were gone, “you who have heard my story, doubtless, guessed it was at the sight of the talisman that I fainted.  This is that talisman, and the fatal cause of my dosing my husband; but as it was that which caused our separation, so I foresee it will be the means of our meeting.”

The next day, as soon as it was light, she sent for the captain of the ship; and when he came, spoke to him thus:  “I want to know something more of the merchant to whom the olives belong, that I bought of you yesterday.  I think you told me you left him behind in the city of the idolaters; can you tell me what is his employment there?”

“Yes,” replied the captain, “I can speak from my own knowledge.  I agreed for his passage with a very old gardener, who told me I should find him in his garden, where he worked under him.  He shewed me the place, and for that reason I told your majesty he was poor.  I went thither to call him.  I told him what haste I was in, spoke to him myself in the garden, and cannot be mistaken in the man.”

“If what you say is true,” replied the princess, “you must set sail this very day for the city of idolaters, and bring me that gardener’s man, who is my debtor; else I will not only confiscate all your goods and those of your merchants, but your life and theirs shall answer for his.  I have ordered my seal to be put on the warehouses where their goods are deposited, which shall not be taken off till your return:  this is all I have to say to you; go and do as I command you.”

The captain could make no reply to this order, the disobeying of which must have proved of such loss to him and his merchants.  He acquainted them with it; and they hastened him away as fast as they could, after he had laid in a stock of provisions and fresh water for his voyage.

They were so diligent, that he set sail the same day.  He had a prosperous voyage to the city of the idolaters, where he arrived in the night.  When he was got as near the city as he thought convenient, he would not cast anchor, but lay to off shore; and going into his boat, with six of his stoutest seamen, landed a little way off the port, whence he went directly to the garden of Kummir al Zummaun.

Though it was about midnight when he came there, the prince was not asleep.  His separation from the fair princess of China his wife afflicted him as usual.  He cursed the minute in which his curiosity tempted him to touch the fatal girdle.

Thus was he passing those hours which are devoted to rest, when he heard somebody knock at the garden-door:  he ran hastily to it; but he had no sooner opened it than the captain and his seamen took hold of him, and carried him to the boat, and so on ship-board.  As soon as he was safely lodged, they set sail, and made the best of their way to the isle of Ebene.

Hitherto Kummir al Zummaun, the captain, and his men, had not said a word to one another; at last the prince asked the captain, whom he knew again, why they had taken him away by force?  The captain in his turn demanded of the prince, whether he was not a debtor of the king of Ebene?  “I the king of Ebene’s debtor!” replied the prince in amazement; “I do not know him, and have never set foot in his kingdom.”  The captain answered, “You should know that better than I; you will talk to him yourself in a little while; till then stay here and have patience.”

The captain was not long on his voyage back to the isle of Ebene.  Though it was night when he cast anchor in the port, he landed immediately, and taking his prisoner with him, hastened to the palace, where he demanded to be introduced to the king.

The princess Badoura had withdrawn into the inner palace, but as soon as she heard of the captain’s return, she came out to speak to him.  Immediately as she cast her eyes on the prince, for whom she had shed so many tears, she recognized him in his gardener’s habit.  As for the prince, who trembled in the presence of a king, as he thought her, to whom he was to answer for an imaginary debt, it could not enter into his thoughts, that the person whom he so earnestly desired to see stood before him.  If the princess had followed the dictates of her inclination, she would have run to him, and, by embracing, discovered herself to him; but she put a constraint on herself, believing that it was for the interest of both that she should act the king a little longer before she made herself known.  She contented herself for the present to put him into the hands of an officer, who was then in waiting, charging him to take care of him, and use him well, till the next day.

When the princess Badoura had provided for Kummir al Zummaun, she turned to the captain, whom she was now to reward for the important service he had done her.  She commanded another officer to go immediately to take the seal off the warehouse which contained his goods, and gave him a rich diamond, worth much more than the expense he had been at in both his voyages.  She also bade him keep the thousand pieces of gold she had given for the olives, telling him she would make up the account with the merchant whom he had brought with him.

This done, she returned to the princess of the isle of Ebene’s apartment, to whom she communicated her joy, praying her to keep the secret still.  She told how she intended to manage the discovering of herself to Kummir al Zummaun, and resignation of the kingdom to him; adding, there was so vast a distance between a gardener, as he would appear to the public, and a great prince, that it might be dangerous to raise him at once from the lowest condition of the people to the highest honour, however justice might require it should be done.  The princess of the isle of Ebene was so far from betraying her, that she rejoiced with her, and entered into the design.

The next morning the princess of China ordered Kummir al Zummaun to be conducted early to the bath, and then to be appareled in the robes of an emir or governor of a province.  She commanded him to be introduced into the council, where his fine person and majestic air drew upon him the eyes of all the lords present.

The princess Badoura herself was charmed to see him look as lovely as ever, and her pleasure inspired her to speak the more warmly in his praise.  When she spoke to the council, having ordered the prince to take his seat among the emirs, she addressed them thus:  “My lords, Kummir al Zummaun, whom I have advanced to the same dignity with yourselves, is not unworthy of the place assigned him.  I have known enough of him in my travels to answer for him, and I can assure you he will make his merit known to all of you, as well by his velour, as by a thousand other brilliant qualities, and the extent of his genius.”

The prince was extremely amazed to hear the king of the isle of Ebene, whom he was far from taking for a woman, much less for his dear princess, name him, and declare that he knew him, while he thought himself certain he had never seen him before.  He was much more surprised when he heard him praise him so highly.  Those praises however from the mouth of majesty did not disconcert him, though he received them with such modesty, as shewed that he deserved them.  He prostrated himself before the throne of the king, and rising again, said, “Sire, I want words to express my gratitude to your majesty for the honour you have done me; I shall do all in my power to render myself worthy of your royal favour.”

From the council-board the prince was conducted to a palace, which the princess Badoura had ordered to be fitted up for him; where he found officers and domestics ready to obey his commands, a stable full of fine horses, and every thing suitable to the quality of an emir.  When he was in his closet, the steward of his household brought him a strong box full of gold for his expenses.

The less he could conceive whence his happiness proceeded, the more he wondered, but he never once imagined that he owed it to the princess of China.

Two or three days after, the princess Badoura, that he might be nearer her person and in a more distinguished post, made him high treasurer, which office had lately become vacant.  He conducted himself in his new charge with so much integrity, yet obliging every body, that he not only gained the friendship of the great, but also the affections of the people, by his uprightness and bounty.

Kummir al Zummaun had been the happiest man in the world, to see himself in so high favour with a foreign king as he conceived, and increasing in the esteem of all his subjects, if he had had his princess with him.  In the midst of his good fortune he never ceased lamenting her, and grieved that he could hear no tidings of her, especially in a country which she must necessarily have visited in her way to his father’s court after their separation.  He would have mistrusted something, had the princess still gone by the name of Kummir al Zummaun, which she took with his habit; but on her accession to the throne, she had changed it, and taken that of Armanos, in honour of the old king her father-in-law.

The princess desiring that her husband should owe the discovery of her to herself alone, resolved to put an end to her own torments and his; for she had observed, that as often as she discoursed with him about the affairs of office, he heaved such deep sighs, as could be addressed to nobody but her.  While she herself lived in such a constraint, that she could endure it no longer.

The princess Badoura had no sooner formed her resolution in concert with the princess Haiatalnefous, than she the same day took Kummir al Zummaun aside, saying, “I must talk with you about an affair which requires much consideration, and on which I want your advice.  As I do not see how it can be done so conveniently as in the night, come hither in the evening, and leave word at home not to be waited for; I will take care to provide you a lodging.”

Kummir al Zummaun came punctually to the palace at the hour appointed by the princess; she took him with her into the inner apartment, and having told the chief eunuch, who prepared to follow her, that she had no occasion for his service, conducted him into a different apartment from that of the princess Haiatalnefous, where she used to sleep.

When the prince and princess entered the chamber, she shut the door, and taking the talisman out of a little box, gave it to Kummir al Zummaun, saying, “It is not long since an astrologer presented me with this talisman; you being skilful in all things, may perhaps tell me its use.”

Kummir al Zummaun took the talisman, and drew near a lamp to view it.  As soon as he recollected it, with an astonishment which gave the princess great pleasure, “Sire,” said he to the prince, “your majesty asked me the use of this talisman.  Alas! its only purpose is to kill me with grief and despair, if I do not quickly find the most charming and lovely princess in the world to whom it belonged, whose loss it occasioned me by a strange adventure, the recital of which will move your majesty to pity such an unfortunate husband and lover as I am.”

“You shall tell me the particulars another time,” replied the princess; “I know something of them already:  remain here a little, and I will soon return to you.”

At these words she went into her closet, put off her royal turban, and in a few minutes dressed herself in her female attire; and having the girdle round her, which she had on the day of their separation, re-entered the chamber.

Kummir al Zummaun immediately recognized his dear princess, ran to her, and tenderly embraced her, exclaiming, “How much am I obliged to the king who has so agreeably surprised me!” “Do not expect to see the king any more,” replied the princess, embracing him in her turn, with tears in her eyes:  “you see him in me; sit down, and I will explain this enigma to you.”

They seated themselves, and the princess related the plan she had formed in the plain where they were encamped the last time they were together, as soon as she perceived she waited for him to no purpose; how she went through with it till she arrived at the isle of Ebene, where she had been obliged to marry the princess Haiatalnefous, and accept of the crown, which king Armanos offered her as a condition of the marriage:  how the princess, whose merit she highly extolled, had obliged her to make declaration of her sex:  and how she found the talisman in the pots of olives mingled with the gold-dust, which she had bought, and how this circumstance had proved the cause of her sending for him from the city of the idolaters.

When she had concluded her adventure, she obliged the prince to tell her by what means the talisman had occasioned their separation.  He satisfied her inquiries; after which, it growing late, they retired to rest.

The princess Badoura and Kummir al Zummaun rose next morning as soon as it was light, but the princess would no more put on her royal robes as king; she dressed herself in her female attire, and then sent the chief eunuch to king Armanos, her father-in-law, to desire he would oblige her by coming to her apartment.

When the king entered the chamber, he was amazed at seeing a lady who was unknown to him, and the high treasurer with her, who was not by etiquette permitted to come within the inner palace.  He sat down, and asked where the king was.

The princess answered, “Yesterday I was king, but to-day I am only princess of China, wife to the true prince Kummir al Zummaun.  If your majesty will have patience to hear our adventures, I hope you will not condemn me for putting an innocent deceit upon you.”  The king bade her go on, and heard her narrative from beginning to end with astonishment.  The princess on finishing said to him, “Sir, though women do not easily comply with the liberty assumed by men to have several wives; yet if your majesty will consent to give your daughter the princess Haiatalnefous in marriage to the prince, I will with all my heart yield up to her the rank and quality of queen, which of right belongs to her, and content myself with the second place.  If this precedence were not her due, I would resign it to her, after the obligation I have to her for keeping my secret so generously.  If your majesty refer it to her consent, I am sure of that, having already consulted her; and I will pass my word that she will be very well satisfied.”

King Armanos listened to the princess with astonishment, and when she had done, turned to Kummir al Zummaun, saying, “Son, since the princess Badoura your wife, whom I have all along thought to be my son-in-law, through a deceit of which I cannot complain, assures me, that she will divide your bed with my daughter; I would know if you are willing to marry her, and accept of the crown, which the princess Badoura would deservedly wear, if she did not quit it out of love to you.”  “Sir,” replied Kummir al Zummaun, “though I desire nothing so earnestly as to see the king my father, yet the obligations I have to your majesty and the princess Haiatalnefous are so weighty, I can refuse her nothing.”  The prince was then proclaimed king, and married the same day with all possible demonstrations of joy; and had every reason to be well pleased with the princess Haiatalnefous’s beauty, wit, and love for him.

The two queens lived together afterwards on the same friendly terms and in the same cordiality as they had done before, both being contented with Kummir al Zummaun’s equal carriage towards them.

The next year each brought him a son at the same time, and the births of the two princes were celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings:  the first, whom the princess Badoura was delivered of, was named Amgiad (most illustrious); and the other, born of queen Haiatalnefous, Assad (most virtuous).

The Story of the Princes Amgiad and Assad.

The two princes were brought up with great care; and, when they were old enough, had the same governor, the same instructors in the arts and sciences, and the same master for each exercise.  The affection which from their infancy they conceived for each other occasioned an uniformity of manners and inclination, which increased it.  When they were of an age to have separate households, they loved one another so tenderly, that they begged the king to let them live together.  He consented, and they had the same domestics, the same equipages, the same apartment, and the same table.  Kummir al Zummaun had formed so good an opinion of their capacity and integrity, that he made no scruple of admitting them into his council at the age of eighteen, and letting them, by turns, preside there, while he took the diversion of hunting, or amused himself with his queens at his houses of pleasure.

The princes being equally handsome, the two queens loved them with incredible tenderness; but the princess Badoura had a greater kindness for prince Assad, queen Haiatalnefous’s son, than for her own; and queen Haiatalnefous loved Amgiad, the princess Badoura’s son, better than her own son Assad.

The two queens thought at first this inclination was nothing but a regard which proceeded from an excess of their own friendship for each other, which they still preserved:  but as the two princes advanced in years, that friendship grew into a violent love, when they appeared in their eyes to possess graces that blinded their reason.  They knew how criminal their passion was, and did all they could to resist it; but the familiar intercourse with them, and the habit of admiring, praising, and caressing them from their infancy, which they could not restrain when they grew up, inflamed their desires to such a height as to overcome their reason and virtue.  It was their and the princes’ ill-fortune, that the latter being used to be so treated by them, had not the least suspicion of their infamous passion.

The two queens had not concealed from each other this passion, but had not the boldness to declare it to the princes they loved; they at last resolved to do it by a letter, and to execute their wicked design, availed themselves of the king’s absence, when he was gone on a hunting party for three or four days.

Prince Amgiad presided at the council on the day of his father’s departure, and administered justice till two or three o’clock in the afternoon.  As he returned to the palace from the council-chamber, an eunuch took him aside, and gave him a letter from queen Haiatalnefous.  Amgiad took it, and read it with horror.  “Traitor,” said he, to the eunuch as soon as he had perused it through, “is this the fidelity thou owest thy master and thy king?” At these words he drew his sabre and cut off his head.

Having done this in a transport of anger he ran to the princess Badoura his mother, shewed her the letter, told her the contents of it, and from whom it came.  Instead of hearkening to him, she fell into a passion, and said, “Son, it is all a calumny and imposture; queen Haiatalnefous is a very discreet princess, and you are very bold to talk to me against her.”  The prince, enraged at his mother, exclaimed, “You are both equally wicked, and were it not for the respect I owe my father, this day should have been the last of Haiatalnefous’s life.”

Queen Badoura might have imagined by the example of her son Amgiad, that prince Assad, who was not less virtuous, would not receive more favourably a declaration of love, similar to that which had been made to his brother.  Yet that did not hinder her persisting in her abominable design; she, the next day, wrote him a letter, which she entrusted to an old woman who had access to the palace, to convey to him.

The old woman watched her opportunity to put it into his hands as he was coming from the council-chamber, where he presided that day in his turn.  The prince took it, and reading it, fell into such a rage, that, without giving himself time to finish it, he drew his sabre and punished the old woman as she deserved.  He ran immediately to the apartment of his mother queen Haiatalnefous, with the letter in his hand:  he would have shewn it to her, but she did not give him time, crying out, “I know what you mean; you are as impertinent as your brother Amgiad:  be gone, and never come into my presence again.”

Assad stood as one thunder-struck at these words, so little expected.  He was so enraged, that he had like to have given fatal demonstrations of his anger; but he contained himself, and withdrew without making any reply, fearing if he stayed he might say something unworthy the greatness of his soul.  Amgiad had not mentioned to him the letter which he had received the preceding day; and finding by what his mother had said to him that she was altogether as criminal as queen Haiatalnefous, he went to his brother, to chide him for not communicating the hated secret to him, and to mingle his own sorrow with his.

The two queens, rendered desperate by finding in the two princes such virtue as should have made them look inwardly on themselves, renounced all sentiments of nature and of mothers and conspired together to destroy them.  They made their women believe the two princes had attempted their virtue:  they counterfeited the matter to the life by their tears, cries, and curses; and lay in the same bed, as if the resistance they pretended to have made had reduced them almost to death’s-door.

When Kummir al Zummaun returned to the palace from hunting, he was much surprised to find them in bed together, in tears, acting despondency so well, that he was touched with compassion.  He asked them with earnestness what had happened to them.

At this question, the dissembling queens wept and sobbed more bitterly than before; and after he had pressed them again and again to tell him, queen Badoura at last answered him:  “Sir, our grief is so well founded, that we ought not to see the light of the sun, or live a day, after the violence that has been offered us by the unparalleled brutality of the princes your sons.  They formed a horrid design, encouraged by your absence, and had the boldness and insolence to attempt our honour.  Your majesty will excuse us from saying any more; you may guess the rest by our affliction.”

The king sent for the two princes, and would have killed them both with his own hand, had not old king Armanos his father-in-law, who was present, held his hand:  “Son,” said he, “what are you going to do?  Will you stain your hands and your palace with your own blood?  There are other ways of punishing them, if they are really guilty.”

He endeavoured thus to appease him, and desired him to examine whether they did indeed commit the crime of which they were accused.

It was no difficult matter for Kummir al Zummaun to restrain himself so far as not to butcher his own children.  He ordered them to be put under arrest, and sent for an emir called Jehaun-dar, whom he commanded to conduct them out of the city, and put them to death, at a great distance, and in what place he pleased, but not to see him again, unless he brought their clothes with him, as a token of his having executed his orders.

Jehaun-dar travelled with them all night, and early next morning made them alight, telling them, with tears in his eyes, the commands he had received.  “Believe me, princes,” said he, “it is a trying duty imposed on me by your father, to execute this cruel order:  would to heaven I could avoid it!” The princes replied, “Do your duty; we know well you are not the cause of our death, and forgive you with all our hearts.”

They then embraced, and bade each other a last adieu with so much tenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one another’s arms.  Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself for the fatal stroke.  “Begin with me,” said he “that I may not have the affliction to see my dear brother Amgiad die.”  To this Amgiad objected; and Jehaun-dar could not, without weeping more than before, be witness of this dispute between them; which shewed how perfect and sincere was their affection.

At last they determined the contest, by desiring Jehaun-dar to tie them together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him to give them the fatal stroke at one blow.  “Do not refuse the comfort of dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth have shared every thing, even their innocence,” said the generous princes.

Jehaun-dar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to breast; and when he had placed them so that he thought he might strike the blow with more certainty, asked them if they had any thing to command him before they died.

“We have only one thing to desire of you,” replied the princes, “which is, to assure the king our father on your return, that we are innocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he is not well informed of the truth of the crime of which we are accused.”

Jehaun-dar promised to do what they desired and drew his sabre, when his horse, being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the sabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran away into the country.

He was a very valuable horse, and so richly caparisoned, that the emir could not bear the loss of him.  This accident so vexed him, that instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre, and ran after his horse.

The horse galloped on before him, and led him several miles into a wood.  Jehaun-dar followed him, and the horse’s neighing roused a lion that was asleep.  The lion started up, and instead of running after the horse, made directly towards Jehaun-dar, who thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life.  He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him in view, pursuing him among the trees.  In this extremity he said to himself, “Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to shew the innocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and now, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself.”

While Jehaun-dar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent thirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble resolution to submit to the king their father’s cruel order.

Prince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far off.  “Ah! brother,” said Assad, “we have so little time to live, what need have we to quench our thirst?  We can bear it a few minutes longer.”

Amgiad taking no notice of his brother’s remonstrance, unbound himself, and the prince his brother.  They went to the spring, and having refreshed themselves, heard the roaring of the lion.  They also heard Jehaun-dar’s dreadful cries in the wood, which he and the horse had entered.  Amgiad took up the sabre which lay on the ground, saying to Assad, “Come, brother, let us go and save the unfortunate Jehaun-dar; perhaps we may arrive soon enough to deliver him from the danger to which he is now exposed.”

The two princes ran to the wood, and entered it just as the lion was going to fall on Jehaun-dar.  The beast seeing prince Amgiad advancing towards him with a sabre in his hand, left his prey, and rushed towards him with great fury.  The prince met him intrepidly, and gave him a blow so forcibly and dexterously, that it felled him to the ground.

When Jehaun-dar saw that he owed his life to the two princes, he threw himself at their feet, and thanked them for the obligation, in words which sufficiently testified his gratitude.  “Princes,” said he, rising up and kissing their hands, with tears in his eyes, “God forbid that ever I should attempt any thing against your lives, after you have so kindly and bravely saved mine.  It shall never be said that the emir Jehaun-dar was guilty of such ingratitude.”

“The service we have done you,” answered the princes, “ought not to prevent you from executing the orders you have received:  let us first catch your horse, and then return to the place where you left us.”—They were at no great trouble to take the horse, whose mettle was abated with running.  When they had restored him to Jehaun-dar, and were come near the fountain, they begged of him to do as their father had commanded; but all to no purpose.  “I only take the liberty to desire,” said Jehaun-dar, “and I pray you not to deny me, that you will divide my clothes between you, and give me yours; and go to such a distance, that the king your father may never hear of you more.”

The princes were forced to comply with his request.  Each of them gave him his clothes, and covered themselves with what he could spare them of his.  He also gave them all the money he had about him, and took his leave of them.

After the emir Jehaun-dar had parted from the princes, he passed through the wood where Amgiad had killed the lion, in whose blood he dipped their clothes:  which having done, he proceeded on his way to the capital of the isle of Ebene.

On his arrival there, Kummir al Zummaun inquired if he had done as commanded?  Jehaun-dar replied, “Behold, sir, the proofs of my obedience;” giving him at the same time the princes’ clothes.

“How did they bear their punishment?” Jehaun-dar answered, “With wonderful constancy and resignation to the decrees of heaven, which shewed how sincerely they made profession of their religion:  but particularly with great respect towards your majesty, and an inconceivable submission to the sentence of death.  ‘We die innocent,’ said they; ’but we do not murmur:  we take our death from the hand of heaven, and forgive our father; for we know he has not been rightly informed of the truth.’”

Kummir al Zummaun was sensibly touched at Jehaun-dar’s relation.  A thought occurred to him to search the princes’ pockets; he began with prince Amgiad’s where he found a letter open, which he read.  He no sooner recognized the hand-writing than he was chilled with horror.  He then, trembling, put his hand into that of Assad, and finding there queen Badoura’s letter, his horror was so great, that he fainted.

Never was grief equal to Kummir all Zummaun’s, when he recovered from his fit:  “Barbarous father,” cried he, “what hast thou done?  Thou hast murdered thy own children, thy innocent children!  Did not their wisdom, their modesty, their obedience, their submission to thy will in all things, their virtue, all plead in their behalf?  Blind and insensible father! dost thou deserve to live after the execrable crime thou hast committed?  I have brought this abomination on my own head; and heaven chastises me for not persevering in that aversion to women with which I was born.  And, oh ye detestable wives!  I will not, no, I will not, as ye deserve, wash off the guilt of your sins with your blood; ye are unworthy of my rage:  but I will never see you more!”

Kummir al Zummaun was a man of too much religion to break his vow:  he commanded the two queens to be lodged in separate apartments that very day, where they were kept under strong guards, and he never saw them again as long as he lived.

While the king of the isle of Ebene was afflicting himself for the loss of his sons, of whose death he thought he had been the author by his too rashly condemning them, the royal youths wandered through deserts, endeavouring to avoid all places that were inhabited, and shun every human creature.  They lived on herbs and wild fruits, and drank only rain-water, which they found in the crevices of the rocks.  They slept and watched by turns at night, for fear of wild beasts.

When they had travelled about a month, they came to the foot of a frightful mountain of black stones, and to all appearance inaccessible.  They at last espied a kind of path, but so narrow and difficult that they durst not venture to follow it:  this obliged them to go along by the foot of the mountain, in hopes of finding a more easy way to reach the summit, but could discover nothing like a path, so they were forced to return to that which they had neglected.  They still thought it would be in vain for them to attempt it.  They deliberated for a long time what they should do, and at last, encouraging one another, resolved to ascend.

The more they advanced the higher and steeper the mountain appeared, which made them think several times of giving over their enterprise.  When the one was weary, the other stopped, and they took breath together; sometimes they were both so tired, that they wanted strength to proceed:  then despairing of being able to reach the top they thought they must lie down and die of fatigue and weariness.  A few minutes after, when they found they recovered strength, they animated each other and went on.

Notwithstanding all their endeavours, their courage and perseverance, they could not reach the summit that day; night came on, and prince Assad was so spent, that he stopped and said to Amgiad, “Brother, I can go no farther, I am just dying.”  “Let us rest ourselves,” replied prince Amgiad, “as long as you will, and have a good heart:  it is but a little way to the top, and the moon befriends us.”

They rested about half an hour, and then Assad making a new effort, they ascended what remained of the way to the summit, where they both at last arrived, and lay down.  Amgiad rose first, and advancing, saw a tree at a little distance.  He went to it, and found it was a pomegranate, with large fruit upon it, and he perceived there was a spring at its foot:  he ran to his brother Assad to tell him the good news, and conduct him to the tree by the fountain side.  Here they refreshed themselves by eating each a pomegranate, after which they fell asleep.

When they awoke the next morning, “Come, brother,” said Amgiad to Assad, “let us go on; I see the mountain is easier to be travelled over on this side than the other, all our way now is down hill.”  But Assad was so tired with the preceding day’s exertions, that he wanted three days’ repose to recover himself.

They spent these days as they had done many before, in conversing on their mothers’ inordinate passion, which had reduced them to such a deplorable state:  but, said they, “Since heaven has so visibly declared itself in our favour, we ought to bear our misfortunes with patience, and comfort ourselves with hopes that we shall see an end of them.”

After having rested three days, the two brothers continued their travels.  As the mountain on that side was composed of several shelves of extensive flat, they were five days in descending before they came into the plain.  They then discovered a large city, at which they rejoiced:  “Brother,” said Amgiad to Assad, “are not you of my opinion that you should stay in some place out of the city, where I may find you again, while I go and inform myself what country we are in, and when I come back I will bring provisions with me?  It may not be safe for us to go there together.”

“Brother,” replied Assad, “your plan is both safe and prudent, and I approve of what you say but if one of us must part from the other on that account, I will not suffer it shall be you; you must allow me to go; for what shall I suffer, if any accident should befall you?”

“But, brother,” answered Amgiad, “the very accident you fear would befall me, I have as much reason to fear would happen to you:  I entreat you to let me go, and do you remain here patiently.”  “I will never consent to this,” said Assad; “if any ill happen to me, it will be some comfort to think you are safe.”  Amgiad was forced to submit, and Assad going towards the city, he stayed under the trees at the foot of the mountain.

Prince Assad took the purse of money which Amgiad had in charge, and went forwards towards the city.  He had not proceeded far in the first street, before he met with a reverend old man with a cane in his hand.  He was neatly dressed, and the prince took him for a man of note in the place, who would not put a trick upon him, so he accosted him thus:  “Pray, my lord, which is the way to the market-place?” The old man looked at prince Assad smiling; “Child,” said he, “it is plain you are a stranger, or you would not have asked that question.”

“Yes, my lord, I am a stranger,” replied Assad.  The old man answered, “You are welcome then; our country will be honoured by the presence of so handsome a young man as you are:  tell me what business you have at the market-place.”

“My lord,” replied Assad, “it is near two months since my brother and I set out from our own country:  we have not ceased travelling, and we arrived here but to-day; my brother, tired with such a long journey, stays at the foot of the mountain, and I am come to buy some provisions for him and myself.”

“Son,” said the old man, “you could not have come in a better time, and I am glad of it for your and your brother’s sake.  I made a feast today for some friends of mine:  come along with me; you shall eat as much as you please; and when you have done, I will give you enough to last your brother and yourself several days.  Do not spend your money, when there is no occasion; travellers are always in want of it:  while you are eating I will give you an account of our city, which no one can do better than myself, who have borne all the honourable offices in it.  It is well for you that you happen to light upon me; for I must tell you, all our citizens cannot so well assist and inform you.  I can assure you some of them are very wicked.  Come, you shall see the difference between a real honest man, as I am, and such as boast of being so, and are not.”

“I am infinitely obliged to you,” replied Assad, “for your kindness; I put myself entirely into your hands, and am ready to go with you where you please.”

The old man, as he walked along by his side, laughed inwardly, to think he had got the prince in his clutches; and all the way, lest he should perceive his dissimulation, talked of various subjects, to preserve the favourable opinion Assad had of him.  Among other things, he said, “It must be confessed you were very fortunate to have spoken to me, rather than to any one else:  I thank God I met with you; you will know why, when you come to my house.”

At length they arrived at the residence of the old man, who introduced Assad into a hall, where there were forty such old fellows as himself, who made a circle round a flaming fire, which they were adoring.  The prince was not less struck with horror at the sight of so many men mistakenly worshipping the creature for the Creator, than he was with fear at finding himself betrayed into so abominable a place.

While the prince stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat saluted the forty gray-headed men.  “Devout adorers of fire,” said he to them, “this is a happy day for us; where is Gazban? call him.”

He spake these words aloud, when a negro who waited at the lower end of the hall immediately came up to him.  This black was Gazban, who, as soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what purpose he was called.  He rushed upon him immediately, threw him down, and bound his hands with wonderful activity.  When he had done, “Carry him down,” said the old man, “and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to give him every day a severe bastinado, with only a loaf morning and night for his subsistence; this is enough to keep him alive till the next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain, where he shall be offered up an acceptable sacrifice to our divinity.”

As soon as the old man had given the cruel order, Gazban hurried prince Assad under the hall, through several doors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps; there he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness, fastened to his feet.  When he had done, he went to give the old man’s daughters notice:  but their father had before sent for them, and given them their instructions himself:  “Daughters,” said he to them, “go down and give the Mussulmaun I just now brought in the bastinado:  do not spare him; you cannot better shew your zeal for the worship of the fire.”

Bostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to the faithful, received this order with joy.  They descended into the dungeon that instant, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till the blood issued out of his wounds and he was almost dead.  After this cruel treatment, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water by him, and retired.

Assad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he revived, he burst out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery.  His comfort however was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother.

Amgiad waited for his brother till evening with impatience; as two, three, or four of the clock in the morning arrived, and Assad did not return, he was in despair.  He spent the night in extreme uneasiness; and as soon as it was day went to the city, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmauns.  He accosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place.  He was told it was the city of the Magicians, so called from the great number of magicians, who adored the fire; and that it contained but few Mussulmauns.  Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle of Ebene?  He was answered, four months’ voyage by sea, and a year’s journey by land.  The man he talked to left him hastily, having satisfied him as to these two questions.

Amgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene with his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they had reached this city in so short a time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the way across the mountain was a much shorter one, but not frequented because of its difficulty.

Going farther into the town, he stopped at a tailor’s shop, whom he knew to be a Mussulmaun by his dress.  Having saluted him, he sat down, and told him the occasion of the trouble he was in.

When prince Amgiad had done talking, the tailor replied, “If your brother has fallen into the hands of some magicians, depend upon it you will never see him more.  He is lost past all recovery; and I advise you to comfort yourself as well as you can, and to beware of falling into the same misfortune:  to which end, if you will take my advice, you shall stay at my house, and I will tell you all the tricks of these magicians, that you may take care of yourself, when you go out.”  Amgiad, afflicted for the loss of his brother, accepted the tailor’s offer and thanked him a thousand times for his kindness to him.

The Story of the Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the
Magicians.

For a whole month prince Amgiad never went out of the tailor’s house without being accompanied by his host.  At last he ventured to go alone to the bath.  As he was returning home, he met a lady on the way.  Seeing a handsome young man, she lifted up her veil, asked him with a smiling air, and bewitching look, whither he was going?  Amgiad was overpowered by her charms, and replied, “Madam, I am going to my own house, or, if you please, I will go to yours.”

“My lord,” resumed the lady, with a smile, “ladies of my quality never take men to their houses, they always accompany them to theirs.”

Amgiad was much perplexed by this unexpected reply.  He durst not venture to take her home to his landlord’s house, lest he should give him offence, and thereby lose his protection, of which he had so much need, in a city which required him to be always on his guard.  He knew so little of the town, that he could not tell where to convey her, and he could not make up his mind to suffer the adventure to go unimproved.  In this uncertainty, he determined to throw himself upon chance; and without making any answer, went on, and the lady followed him.  Amgiad led her from street to street, from square to square, till they were both weary with walking.  At last they entered a street, at the end of which was a closed gateway leading to a handsome mansion.  On each side of the gateway was a bench.  Amgiad sat down on one of them, as if to take breath:  and the lady, more weary than he, seated herself on the other.

When she had taken her seat, she asked him, whether that was his house?  “You see it, madam,” said Amgiad.  “Why do you not open the gate then,” demanded the lady; “what do you wait for?” “Fair lady,” answered Amgiad, “I have not the key; I left it with my slave, when I sent him on an errand, and he cannot be come back yet:  besides, I ordered him afterwards to provide something good for dinner; so that I am afraid we shall wait a long time for him.”

The prince, meeting with so many obstacles to the satisfying of his passion, began to repent of having proceeded so far, and contrived this answer, in hopes that the lady would take the hint, would leave him out of resentment, and seek elsewhere for a lover; but he was mistaken.

“This is a most impertinent slave,” said the lady, “to make us wait so long.  I will chastise him myself as he deserves, if you do not, when he comes back.  It is not decent that I should sit here alone with a man.”  Saying this, she arose, and took up a stone to break the lock, which was only of wood, and weak, according to the fashion of the country.

Amgiad gave himself over for a lost man, when he saw the door forced open.  He paused to consider whether he should go into the house or make off as fast as he could, to avoid the danger which he believed was inevitable; and he was going to fly when the lady returned.

Seeing he did not enter, she asked, “Why do not you come into your house?” The prince answered, “I am looking to see if my slave is coming, fearing we have nothing ready.”  “Come in, come in,” resumed she, “we had better wait for him within doors than without.”

Amgiad, much against his will, followed her into the house.  Passing through a spacious court, neatly paved, they ascended by several steps into a grand vestibule, which led to a large open hall very well furnished, where he and the lady found a table ready spread with all sorts of delicacies, another heaped with fruit, and a sideboard covered with bottles of wine.

When Amgiad beheld these preparations, he gave himself up for lost.  “Unfortunate Amgiad,” said he to himself, “thou wilt soon follow thy dear brother Assad.”

The lady, on the contrary, transported at the sight, exclaimed, “How, my lord, did you fear there was nothing ready?  You see your slave has done more than you expected.  But, if I am not mistaken, these preparations were made for some other lady, and not for me:  no matter, let her come, I promise you I will not be jealous; I only beg the favour of you to permit me to wait on her and you.”

Amgiad, greatly as he was troubled at this accident, could not help laughing at the lady’s pleasantry.  “Madam,” said he, thinking of something else that tormented his mind, “there is nothing in what you imagine; this is my common dinner, and no extraordinary preparation, I assure you.”  As he could not bring himself to sit down at a table which was not provided for him, he would have taken his seat on a sofa, but the lady would not permit him.  “Come, sir,” said she, “you must be hungry after bathing, let us eat and enjoy ourselves.”

Amgiad was forced to comply:  they both sat down, and began to regale themselves.  After having taken a little, the lady took a bottle and glass, poured out some wine, and when she had drunk herself, filled another glass, and gave it to Amgiad, who pledged her.  The more the prince reflected on this adventure, the more he was amazed that the master of the house did not appear; and that a mansion, so rich and well provided, should be left without a servant.  “It will be fortunate,” said he to himself, “if the master of the house do not return till I am got clear of this intrigue.”  While he was occupied with these thoughts, and others more troublesome, she ate and drank heartily, and obliged him to do the same.  Just as they were proceeding to the dessert, the master of the house arrived.

It happened to be Bahader, master of the horse to the king of the magicians.  This mansion belonged to him, but he commonly resided in another; and seldom came to this, unless to regale himself with two or three chosen friends He always sent provisions from his other house on such occasions, and had done so this day by some of his servants, who were just gone when the lady and Amgiad entered.

Bahader came as he used to do, in disguise, and without attendants, and a little before the time appointed for the assembling of his friends.  He was not a little surprised to find the door broken open; he entered, making no noise, and hearing some persons talking and making merry in the hall, he stole along under the wall, and put his head half way within the door to see who they were.

Perceiving a young man and a young lady eating at his table the victuals that had been provided for his friends and himself, and that there was no great harm done, he resolved to divert himself with the adventure.

The lady’s back was a little turned towards him, and she did not see the master of the horse, but Amgiad perceived him immediately.  The glass was at the time in his hand, and he was going to drink; he changed colour at the sight of Bahader, who made a sign to him not to say a word, but to come and speak to him.

Amgiad drank and rose:  “Where are you going?” inquired the lady.  The prince answered, “Pray, madam, stay here a little; I shall return directly.”  Bahader waited for him in the vestibule, and led him into the court to talk to him without being overheard by the lady.

When Bahader and Amgiad were in the court, Bahader demanded of the prince, how the lady came into his house? and why they broke open his door?  “My lord,” replied Amgiad, “you may very reasonably think me guilty of a very unwarrantable action:  but if you will have patience to hear me, I hope I shall convince you of my innocence.”  He then related, in a few words, what had happened, without disguising any part of the truth; and to shew him that he was not capable of committing such an action as to break into a house, told him he was a prince, and informed him of the reason of his coming to the city of the magicians.

Bahader, who was a good man, was pleased with an opportunity of obliging one of Amgiad’s rank:  for by his air, his actions, and his well-turned conversation, he did not in the least doubt the truth of what he had asserted.  “Prince,” said Bahader, “I am glad I can oblige you in so pleasant an adventure.  Far from disturbing the feast, it will gratify me to contribute to your satisfaction in any thing.  Before I say any more on this subject, I must inform you my name is Bahader; I am master of the horse to the king of the magicians; I commonly reside in another house, which I have in the city, and come here sometimes to have the more liberty with my friends.  You have made this lady believe you have a slave, though you have none; I will personate that slave, and that this may not make you uneasy, and to prevent your excuses, I repeat again, that I will positively have it to be so; you will soon know my reason.  Go to your place, and continue to divert yourself.  When I return again, and come to you in a slave’s habit, chide me for staying so long, do not be afraid even to strike me.  I will wait upon you while you are at table till night; you shall sleep here, and so shall the lady, and to-morrow morning you may send her home with honour.  I shall afterwards endeavour to do you more important services:  go, and lose no time.”  Amgiad would have made him an answer, but the master of the horse would not suffer him, forcing him to return to the lady.  He had scarcely reentered the hall before Bahader’s friends, whom he had invited, arrived.  Bahader excused himself for not entertaining them that day, telling them they would approve of his reason when they should be informed of it, which they should be in due time.  When they were gone, he went and dressed himself in a slave’s habit.

Prince Amgiad returned to the lady much pleased at finding the house belonged to a man of quality, who had received him so courteously.  When he sat down again, he said, “Madam, I beg a thousand pardons for my rudeness.  I was vexed that my slave should tarry so long; the rascal shall pay for it when he comes:  I will teach him to make me wait so for him.”

“Let not that trouble you,” said the lady.  “The evil is his; if he is guilty of any faults, let him pay for it:  but do not let us think of him, we will enjoy ourselves without him.”

They continued at the table with the more pleasure, as Amgiad was under no apprehensions of the consequence of the lady’s indiscretion in breaking open the door.  The prince was now as merry as the lady:  they said a thousand pleasant things, and drank more than they ate, till Bahader arrived in his disguise.

Bahader entered like a slave who feared his master’s displeasure for staying out when he had company with him.  He fell down at his feet and kissed the ground, to implore his clemency; and when he had done, stood behind him with his hands across, waiting his commands.

“Sirrah,” said Amgiad, with a fierce tone, and angry look, “where have you been?  What have you been doing, that you came no sooner?”

“My lord,” replied Bahader, “I ask your pardon; I was executing your orders, and did not think you would return home so early.”

“You are a rascal,” said Amgiad, “and I will break your bones, to teach you to lie, and disappoint me.”  He then rose up, took a stick, and gave him two or three slight blows; after which he sat down again.

The lady was not satisfied with this chastisement.  She also rose, took the stick, and fell upon Bahader so unmercifully, that the tears came into his eyes.  Amgiad, offended to the last degree at the freedom she took, and that she should use one of the king’s chief officers so ill, called out to her in vain to forbear.  “Let me alone,” said she “I will give him enough, and teach him to be absent so long another time.”  She continued beating him with great fury, till Amgiad rose from the table, and forced the stick out of her hand which she did not relinquish without much struggling.  When she found she could beat Bahader no longer, she sat down, railed at and cursed him.

Bahader wiped his eyes, and stood up to fill out wine When he saw they had done eating and drinking, he took away the cloth, cleared the hall, put every thing in its place; and night coming on, lighted up the lamps.  Every time he came in, or went out, the lady muttered, threatened him, and gave him abusive language, to Amgiad’s great regret, who would have hindered her, but could not.  When it was time for them to retire to bed, Bahader prepared one for them on the sofa, and withdrew into a chamber, where he laid himself down, and soon fell asleep, having been fatigued with his beating.  Amgiad and the lady entertained one another for some time afterwards.  The lady before she went to bed having occasion to go to another part of the house, passing through the vestibule, heard Bahader snore, and having seen a sabre hanging up in the hall, turned back, and said to Amgiad, “My lord, as you love me, do one thing for me.”  “In what can I serve you?” asked the prince.  “Oblige me so far as to take down this sabre and cut off your slave’s head.”  Amgiad was astonished at such a proposal from a lady, and made no doubt but it was the wine she had drunk that induced her to make it.  “Madam,” said he, “let us suffer him to rest, he is not worthy of your farther notice:  I have beaten him, and you have beaten him:  that ought to be sufficient; besides, I am in other respects well satisfied with him.”

“That shall not satisfy me,” replied the lady, in a violent passion; “the rascal shall die, if not by your hands, by mine.”  As she spoke, she took down the sabre from the place where it hung, drew it out of the scabbard, and prepared to execute her wicked design.

Amgiad met her in the vestibule, saying, “You shall be satisfied, madam, since you will have it so; but I should be sorry that any one besides myself should kill my slave.”  When she had given him the sabre, “Come, follow me,” said he; “make no noise, lest we should awaken him.”  They went into Bahader’s chamber, where Amgiad, instead of striking him, aimed his blow at the lady, and cut off her head, which fell upon Bahader.

Bahader was awakened by the head of the lady falling upon him.  He was amazed to see Amgiad standing by him with a bloody sabre, and the body of the lady lying headless on the ground.  The prince told him what had passed, and said, “I had no other way to prevent this furious woman from killing you, but to take away her life.”  “My lord,” replied Bahader, full of gratitude, “persons of your rank and generosity are incapable of doing such a wicked action:  as she desired of you.  You are my deliverer, and I cannot sufficiently thank you.”  After having embraced him, to evince the sense he entertained of his obligations to him, he said, “We must carry this corpse out before it is quite day; leave it to me, I will do it.”  Amgiad would not consent to this, saying, “He would carry it away himself, since he had struck the blow.”  Bahader replied, “You are a stranger in this city, and cannot do it so well as one who is acquainted with the place.  I must do it, if for no other reason, yet for the safety of both of us, to prevent our being questioned about her death.  Remain you here, and if I do not return before day, you may be sure the watch has seized me; and for fear of the worst, I will by writing give this house and furniture for your habitation.”

When he had written, signed, and delivered the paper to prince Amgiad, he put the lady’s body in a bag, head and all; laid it on his shoulder, and went out with it from one street to another, taking the way to the sea-side.  He had not proceeded far before he met one of the judges of the city, who was going the rounds in person.  Bahader was stopped by the judge’s followers, who, opening the bag, found the body of a murdered lady, bundled up with the head.  The judge, who knew the master of the horse notwithstanding his disguise, took him home to his house, and not daring to put him to death without telling the king, on account of his rank, carried him to court as soon as it was day.  When the king had been informed by the judge of the crime Bahader had, as he believed from the circumstances, committed, he addressed himself to the master of the horse as follows:  “It is thus then that thou murderess my subjects, to rob them, and then wouldst throw their dead bodies into the sea, to hide thy villainy?  Let us get rid of him; execute him immediately.”

Innocent as Bahader was, he received sentence of death with resignation, and said not a word in his justification.  The judge carried him to his house, and while the pale was preparing, sent a crier to publish throughout the city, that at noon the master of the horse was to be impaled for a murder.

Prince Amgiad, who had in vain expected Bahader’s return, was struck with consternation when he heard the crier publish the approaching execution of the master of the horse.  “If,” said he to himself, “any one ought to die for the murder of such a wicked woman, it is I, and not Bahader; I will never suffer an innocent man to be punished for the guilty.”  Without deliberating, he then hastened to the place of execution, whither the people were running from all parts.

When Amgiad saw the judge bringing Bahader to the pale, he went up to him, and said, “I am come to assure you, that the master of the horse, whom you are leading to execution, is wholly innocent of the lady’s death; I alone am guilty of the crime, if it be one, to have killed a detestable woman, who would have murdered Bahader.”  He then related to him how it had happened.

The prince having informed the judge of the manner in which he had met her coming from the bath; how she had occasioned his going into the master of the horse’s pleasure-house, and all that had passed to the moment in which he was forced to cut off her head, to save Bahader’s life; the judge ordered execution to be stopped, and conducted Amgiad to the king, taking the master of the horse with them.

The king wished to hear the story from Amgiad himself; and the prince, the better to prove his own innocence and that of the master of the horse, embraced the opportunity to discover who he was, and what had driven him and his brother Assad to that city, with all the accidents that had befallen them, from their departure from the Isle of Ebene.

The prince having finished his account, the king said to him, “I rejoice that I have by this means been made acquainted with you; I not only give you your own life, and that of my master of the horse, whom I commend for his kindness to you, but I restore him to his office; and as for you, prince, I declare you my grand vizier, to make amends for your father’s unjust usage, though it is also excusable, and I permit you to employ all the authority with which I now invest you to find out prince Assad.”

Amgiad having thanked the king for the honour he had done him, on taking possession of his office of grand vizier used every possible means to find out the prince his brother.  He ordered the common criers to promise a great reward to any who should discover him, or give any tidings of him.  He sent men up and down the country to the same purpose; but in vain.

Assad in the meanwhile continued in the dungeon in chains; Bostama and Cavama, the cunning old conjuror’s daughters, treating him daily with the same cruelty and inhumanity as at first.

The solemn festival of the adorers of fire approached; and a ship was fitted out for the fiery mountain as usual:  the captain’s name was Behram, a great bigot to his religion.  He loaded it with proper merchandize; and when it was ready to sail, put Assad in a chest, which was half full of goods, a few crevices being left between the boards to give him air.

Before the ship sailed, the grand vizier Amgiad, who had been told that the adorers of fire used to sacrifice a Mussulmaun every year on the fiery mountain, suspecting that Assad might have fallen into their hands, and be designed for a victim, resolved to search the ship in person.  He ordered all the passengers and seamen to be brought upon deck, and commanded his men to search all over the ship, which they did, but Assad could not be found, he was so well concealed.

When the grand vizier had done searching the vessel, she sailed.  As soon as Behram was got out to sea, he ordered prince Assad to be taken out of the chest, and fettered, to secure him, lest he should throw himself into the sea in despair since he knew he was going to be sacrificed.

The wind was very favourable for a few days, after which there arose a furious storm.  The vessel was driven out of her course, so that neither Behram nor his pilot knew where they were.  They were afraid of being wrecked on the rocks, for in the violence of the storm they discovered land, and a dangerous shoal before them.  Behram perceived that he was driven into the port and capital of queen Margiana, which occasioned him great mortification.

This queen Margiana was a devout professor of the Mahummedan faith, and a mortal enemy to the adorers of fire.  She had banished all of them out of her dominions, and would not suffer their ships to touch at her ports.

It was no longer in the power of Behram to avoid putting into the harbour, for he had no alternative but to be dashed to pieces against the frightful rocks that lay off the shore.  In this extremity he held a council with his pilot and seamen.  “My lads,” said he, “you see to what a necessity we are reduced.  We must choose one of two things; either to resolve to be swallowed up by the waves, or put into queen Margiana’s port, whose hatred to all persons of our religion you well know.  She will certainly seize our vessel and put us all to death, without mercy.  I see but one way to escape her, which is, to take off the fetters from the Mussulmaun we have aboard, and dress him like a slave.  When queen Margiana commands me to come before her, and asks what trade I follow, I will tell her I deal in slaves; that I have sold all I had, but one, whom I keep to be my clerk, because he can read and write.  She will by this means see him, and he being handsome, and of her own religion, will have pity on him.  No doubt she will then ask to buy him of me, and on this account will let us stay in the port till the weather is fair.  If any of you have any thing else to propose that will be preferable, I am ready to attend to it.”  The pilot and seamen applauded his judgment, and agreed to follow his advice.

Behram commanded prince Assad’s chains to be taken off, and had him neatly habited like a slave, as became one who was to pass for his clerk before the queen of the country.  They had scarcely time to do this, before the ship drove into the port, and dropped anchor.

Queen Margiana’s palace was so near the sea, that her garden extended down to the shore.  She saw the ship anchor, and sent to the captain to come to her, and the sooner to satisfy her curiosity waited for him in her garden.

Behram landed with prince Assad, whom he required to confirm what he had said of his being a slave, and his clerk.  When he was introduced to the queen, he threw himself at her feet, and informed her of the necessity he was under to put into her port:  that he dealt in slaves, and had sold all he had but one, who was Assad, whom he kept for his clerk.

The queen was taken with Assad from the moment she first saw him, and was extremely glad to hear that he was a slave; resolving to buy him, cost what he would.  She asked Assad what was his name.

“Great queen,” he replied, with tears in his eyes, “does your majesty ask what my name was formerly, or what it is now?” The queen answered, “Have you two names then?” “Alas!  I have,” said Assad:  “I was once called Assad (most happy); and now my name is Motar” (devoted to be sacrificed).

Margiana not being able to comprehend the meaning of his answer, interpreted it to refer to his condition of a slave.  “Since you are clerk to the captain,” said she, “no doubt you can write well; let me see your hand.”

Behram had furnished Assad with pen, ink, and paper, as a token of his office, that the queen might take him for what he designed she should.

The prince stepped a little aside, and wrote as follows, suitable to his wretched circumstances:

“The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted falls.  Fools advance themselves to honours, by discourses which signify nothing, while men of sense and eloquence live in poverty and contempt.  The Mussulmaun with all his riches is miserable.  The infidel triumphs.  We cannot hope things will be otherwise.  The Almighty has decreed it shall be so.”

Assad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who admired alike the moral of the sentences, and the goodness of the writing.  She needed no more to have her heart inflamed, and to feel a sincere concern for his misfortunes.  She had no sooner read the lines, than she addressed herself to Behram, saying, “Do which you will, either sell me this slave, or make me a present of him; perhaps it will turn most to your account to do the latter.”

Behram answered insolently, that he could neither give nor sell him; that he wanted his slave, and would keep him.

Queen Margiana, provoked at his rudeness, would not talk to him any more on the subject.  She took the prince by the arm, and turned him before her to the palace, sending Behram word, that if he stayed the night in her port, she would confiscate his goods, and burn his ship.  He was therefore forced to return to his vessel, and prepare to put to sea again, notwithstanding the tempest had not yet subsided.

Queen Margiana, on entering her palace, commanded supper to be got ready; and while it was providing, she ordered Assad to be brought into her apartment, where she bade him sit down.  Assad would have excused himself:  “It becomes not a slave,” said he, “to presume to this honour.”

“To a slave!” replied the queen:  “you were so a moment ago; henceforward you are no more a slave.  Sit down near me, and tell me the story of your life; for by what you wrote, and the insolence of that slave-merchant, I guess there is something extraordinary in your history.”

Prince Assad obeyed her; and sitting down, began thus:  “Mighty queen, your majesty is not mistaken, in thinking there is something extraordinary in the story of my life:  it is indeed more so than you can imagine.  The ills, the incredible torments I have suffered, and the death to which I was devoted, and from which I am delivered by your royal generosity, will shew the greatness of my obligation to you, never to be forgotten.  But before I enter into particulars of my miseries, which will strike horror into the hearts of all that hear them, I must trace the origin of them to its source.”

This preamble increased queen Margiana’s curiosity.  The prince then told her of his royal birth; of his brother Amgiad, and their mutual friendship; of their mothers’ criminal passion, the cause of all their sufferings; of the king his father’s rage; how miraculously their lives were saved; how he had lost his brother; how he had been long imprisoned and tortured, and was devoted to be sacrificed on the fiery mountain.

When Assad had finished his recital’ the queen was more than ever enraged at the adorers of fire.  “Prince,” said she, “though I have always had an aversion to the adorers of fire, yet hitherto I have had some humanity for them:  but after their barbarous usage of you, and their execrable design to sacrifice you, I will henceforth wage perpetual war against them.”

She was proceeding, but supper being served in, she made prince Assad sit down at table with her, being charmed with his beauty and eloquence, and touched with a passion which she hoped soon to have an opportunity of making known to him “Prince,” said she, “we must make you amends for so many fasts and wretched meals, to which the pitiless adorers of fire made you submit; you must want nourishment after such sufferings.”  With conversation of this kind she helped him at supper; and ordered him to drink a good deal of wine to recover his spirits; by which means he drank more than he could well bear.

The cloth being taken away, Assad having occasion to go out, took an opportunity when the queen did not observe him.  He descended into the court, and seeing the garden-door open, went into it.  Being tempted by the pleasantness of the place, he walked there for some time.  At last he came to a fountain, where he washed his face and hands to refresh himself, and lying down on the turf by the fountain, fell asleep.

Behram, to prevent the queen from executing her threats, had weighed anchor, vexed at the loss of Assad, by which he was disappointed of a most acceptable sacrifice.  He comforted himself as well as he could, with the thoughts that the storm was over, and that a land breeze favoured his getting off the coast.  As soon as he was towed out of the port by the help of his boat, before it was hoisted up into the ship again, “Stop, my lads,” said he to the seamen, “do not come on board yet; I will give you some casks to fill with water, and wait for you.”  Behram had observed, while he was talking to the queen in the garden, that there was a fountain at the end of it, near the port.  “Go,” said he, “land before the palace-garden; the wall is not above breast high, you may easily get over; there is a basin in the middle of the garden, where you may fill all your barrels, and hand them aboard without difficulty.”

The sailors went ashore at the place he directed them to, and laying their casks on their shoulders easily got over the wall.

As they approached the basin, they perceived a man sleeping on the grass, and knew him to be Assad.  They immediately divided themselves; and while some of the crew filled their barrels with as little noise as possible, others surrounded Assad, and watched to seize him if he should awake.

He slept on undisturbed, giving them time to fill all their casks; which they afterwards handed over the wall to others of the crew who waited to carry them aboard.

They next seized Assad, and conveyed him away, without giving him time to recollect himself.  They got him over the wall into their boat with the casks, and rowed to the ship.  When they drew near her they cried out for joy, “Captain, sound your trumpets, beat your drums, we have brought you your slave.”

Behram, who could not imagine how the seamen could find and take him again, and did not see Assad in the boat, it being night, waited their arrival with impatience, to ask what they meant; but when he saw him, he could not contain himself for joy.  He commanded him to be chained, without staying to inquire how they came by him; and having hoisted the boat on board, set sail for the fiery mountain.

In the meanwhile queen Margiana was in alarm.  She was not at first apprehensive when she found prince Assad was gone out, because she did not doubt but he would soon return When some time had passed without his appearing, she began to be uneasy, and commanded her women to look for him.  They sought for him in every direction, and at night renewed their search by torch-light, but all to no purpose.

Queen Margiana was so impatient and alarmed, that she went herself with lights, and finding the garden-door open, entered, and walked all over it with her women to seek for him.  Passing by the fountain and basin, she espied a slipper, which she took up, and knew it to be prince Assad’s, her women also recognized it to be his.  This circumstance, together with the water being spilt about the edge of the basin, induced her to believe that Behram had carried him off.  She sent immediately to see if he was still in the port; and hearing he had sailed a little before it was dark, that he lay-to some time off the shore, while he sent his boat for water from the fountain, she sent word to the commander of ten ships of war, which lay always ready in the harbour, to sail on the shortest notice, that she would embark herself next morning as soon as it was day.  The commander lost no time, ordered the captains, seamen and soldiers aboard, and was ready to sail at the time appointed.  She embarked, and when the squadron was at sea, told the commander her intention.  “Make all the sail you can,” said she, “and chase the merchantman that sailed last night out of this port.  If you capture it, I assign it to you as your property; but if you fail, your life shall answer.”

The ten ships chased Behram’s vessel two whole days without seeing her.  The third day in the morning they discovered her, and at noon had so surrounded her, that she could not escape.

As soon as Behram espied the ten ships of war, he made sure it was queen Margiana’s squadron in pursuit of him; and upon that he ordered Assad to be bastinadoed, which he had done every day.  He was much perplexed what to do, when he found he was surrounded.  To keep Assad, was to declare himself guilty; to kill him was as dangerous, for he feared some marks of the murder might be seen.  He therefore commanded him to be unfettered and brought from the bottom of the hold where he lay.  When he came before him, “It is thou,” said he, “that art the cause of my being pursued;” and so saying, he flung him into the sea.

Prince Assad being an expert swimmer, made such good use of his feet and hands, that he reached the shore in safety.  The first thing he did after he had landed, was to thank God who had delivered him from so great a danger, and once more rescued him out of the hands of the adorers of fire.  He then stripped himself, and wringing the water out of his clothes, spread them on a rock, where, by the heat of the sun, and of the rock, they soon dried.  After this he lay down to rest himself, deploring his miserable condition, not knowing in what country he was nor which way to direct his course.  He dressed himself again and walked on, keeping as near the sea-side as he could.  At last he entered a kind of path, which he followed, and travelled on ten days through an uninhabited country, living on herbs, plants, and wild fruits.  At last he approached a city, which he recognized to be that of the magicians, where he had been so ill used and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier.

He rejoiced to discover where he was, but resolved not to approach any of the adorers of fire, and to converse only with Moosulmauns, for he remembered he had seen some the first time he entered the town.  It being late, and knowing the shops were already shut, and few people in the streets, he resolved to remain in a burying ground near the city, where there were several tombs built in the form of mausoleums.  He found the door of one of them open, which he entered, designing to pass the night there.

We must now return to Behram’s ship, which, after he had thrown prince Assad overboard, was soon surrounded on all sides by queen Margiana’s squadron.  The ship in which queen Margiana was in person first came up with him, and Behram, being in no condition of defence against so many, furled his sails as a mark of his submission.

The queen herself boarded his ship, and demanded where the clerk was, whom he had the boldness to take or cause to be taken out of her palace.  Behram replied, “O queen!  I swear by your majesty, he is not in my ship; you will, by searching, be convinced of my innocence.”

Margiana ordered the ship to be searched as narrowly as possible, but she could not find the man, whom she so much wished to recover, as well on account of her love for him, as of the generosity for which she was distinguished.  She once resolved to kill Behram with her own hand, but refrained, and contented herself with seizing his ship and cargo, and turning him and his men on shore in their boat.

Behram and his seamen arrived at the city of the magicians the same night as Assad, and stopped at the same burying-ground, the city gates being shut, intending to stay in some tomb till the next day, when they should be opened again.

To Assad’s misfortune, Behram came to that in which the prince was sleeping with his head wrapped up in his habit, and entered it.  Assad awoke at the noise of his footsteps, and demanded who was there.

Behram immediately recognized him.  “Hah, hah,” said he, “thou art the man who has ruined me for ever; thou hast escaped being sacrificed this year, but depend on it thou shalt not be so fortunate the next.”  Saying this, he flew upon him, clapped his handkerchief into his mouth to prevent his making a noise, and with the assistance of his seamen bound him.

The next morning as soon as the city gates were open, Behram and his men easily carried Assad through streets, where no one was yet stirring, to the old man’s house, where he had been so inhumanly treated.  As soon as he was brought in, he was again thrown into the same dungeon.  Behram acquainted the old man with the unfortunate circumstances of his return, and the ill success of his voyage.  The old savage, upon this, commanded his two daughters Bostama and Cavama to treat him, if possible, more cruelly than before.

Assad was overwhelmed with terror at seeing himself again in the hands of persecutors from whom he had suffered so much, and expected the repetition of the torments from which he hoped that he had been delivered.  He was lamenting the severity of his fate, when Bostama entered with a stick in her hand, a loaf and a pitcher of water.  He trembled at the sight of this unmerciful wretch, and at the very thoughts of the sufferings he was to endure for another year, at the conclusion of which he was to die the most horrible death.

Bostama treated prince Assad as inhumanly as she had done during his first confinement.  But his cries, lamentations, and earnest entreaties to her to spare him, joined with his tears, were so affecting, that she could not help shedding tears.  “My lord,” said she, covering his shoulders again, “I ask a thousand pardons for my inhuman treatment of you formerly, and for making you once more feel its effect.  Till now I was afraid of disobeying a father, who is unjustly enraged against you, and resolved on your destruction, but at last I abhor this barbarity.  Be comforted, your evil days are over.  I will endeavour by better treatment to make amends for all my crimes, of the enormity of which you will find I am duly sensible.  You have hitherto regarded me as an infidel; henceforth believe me one of your own religion; having been taught it by a slave, I hope your lessons will complete my conversion.  To convince you of my sincerity, I first beg pardon of the true God for all my sins, in dealing so cruelly by you, and I trust he will put it in my power to set you entirely at liberty.”

This address afforded the prince much comfort.  He thanked the Almighty for the change wrought in her heart, He also thanked her for her favourable disposition towards him, and omitted no arguments which he thought would have any effect in confirming her conversion to the Moosulmaun religion.  He afterwards related to her the whole story of his life to that time.  When he was fully assured of her good intentions respecting him, he asked her how she could continue to keep her sister Cavama in ignorance of them; and prevent her treating him as barbarously as she used to do?  “Let not that trouble you,” replied Bostama; “I know how to order matters so that she shall never come near you.”

She accordingly every day prevented her sister’s coming down into the dungeon, where she often visited the prince.  Instead of carrying him bread and water, she now brought him the best wine and the choicest victuals she could procure, which were prepared by her twelve Mahommedan slaves.  She ate with him herself from time to time, and did all in her power to alleviate his misfortunes.

A few days afterwards, Bostama, as she stood at her father’s door, observed the public crier making proclamation, but she could not hear what it was about, being too far off.  As he was proceeding in the direction of her father’s house, she went in, and holding the door half open, perceived that he went before the grand vizier Amgiad, brother to Assad; who was accompanied by several officers, and other attendants.

The crier, a few steps from the house, repeated the proclamation with a loud voice, as follows:  “The most excellent and illustrious grand vizier is come in person to seek for his dear brother, from whom he was separated about a year ago.  He is a young man of such an appearance; if any one has him in keeping, or knows where he is, his excellency commands that they bring him forth, or give him notice where to find him, promising a great reward to the person that shall give the information.  If any one conceal him, and he be hereafter found, his excellency declares’ he shall be punished with death, together with his wife, children, and all his family, and his house to be razed to the ground.”

Bostama, as soon as she had heard this, shut the door as fast as she could, and ran to Assad in the dungeon.  “Prince,” said she, with joy, “your troubles are at an end; follow me immediately.”  She had taken off his fetters the day he was brought in, and the prince followed her into the street, where she cried, “There he is, there he is!”

The grand vizier, who was not far from the house, returned.  Assad knew him to be his brother, ran to him, and embraced him.  Amgiad, who immediately recollected him, returned his embrace with all possible tenderness; made him mount one of his officers’ horses, who alighted for that purpose; and conducted him in triumph to the palace, where he presented him to the king, by whom he was advanced to the post of a vizier.

Bostama not wishing to return to her father’s house, which was the next day razed to the ground, was sent to the queen’s apartments.

The old man her father, Behram, and all their families were brought before the king, who condemned them to be beheaded.  They threw themselves at his feet, and implored his mercy.  “There is no mercy for you to expect,” said the king, “unless you renounce the adoration of fire, and profess the Mahummedan religion.”

They accepted the condition, and were pardoned at the intercession of Assad, in consideration of Bostama’s friendship; for whose sake Cavama’s life, and the lives of the rest of their families were saved.

Amgiad, in consideration of Behram turning Mussulmaun, and to compensate for the loss which he had suffered before he deserved his favour, made him one of his principal officers, and lodged him in his house.  Behram, being informed of Amgiad and his brother Assad’s story, proposed to his benefactor, to fit out a vessel to convey them to their father’s court:  “For,” said he, “the king must certainly have heard of your innocence, and impatiently desire to see you:  otherwise we can easily inform him of the truth before we land, and if he is still in the same mind, you can but return.”

The two brothers accepted the proposal, communicated it to the king of the city of the magicians, who approved of it; and commanded a ship to be equipped.  Behram undertook the employment cheerfully, and soon got in readiness to sail.  The two princes, when they understood the ship was ready, waited upon the king to take leave.  While they were making their compliments, and thanking the king for his favours, they were interrupted by a great tumult in the city:  and presently an officer came to give them notice that a numerous army was advancing against the city, nobody knowing who they were, or whence they had come.

The king being alarmed at the intelligence, Amgiad addressed him thus:  “Sir, though I have just resigned into your majesty’s hands the dignity of your first minister, with which you were pleased to honour me, I am ready to do you all the service in my power.  I desire therefore that you would be pleased to let me go and see who this enemy is, that comes to attack you in your capital, without having first declared war.”

The king desired him to do so.  Amgiad departed immediately, with a very small retinue, to see what enemy approached, and what was the reason of their coming.

It was not long before prince Amgiad descried the army, which appeared very formidable, and which approached nearer and nearer.  The advanced guards received him favourably, and conducted him to a princess, who stopped, and commanded her army to halt, while she talked with the prince; who, bowing profoundly to her, demanded if she came as a friend or an enemy:  if as an enemy, what cause of complaint she had against the king his master?

“I come as a friend,” replied the princess, “and have no cause of complaint against the king of the city of the magicians.  His territories and mine are so situated, that it is almost impossible for us to have any dispute.  I only come to require a slave named Assad, to be delivered up to me.  He was carried away by one Behram, a captain of a ship belonging to this city, the most insolent man in the world.  I hope your king will do me justice, when he knows I am Margiana.”

The prince answered, “Mighty queen, the slave whom you take so much pains to seek is my brother:  I lost him, and have found him again.  Come, and I will deliver him up to you myself; and will do myself the honour to tell you the rest of the story:  the king my master will rejoice to see you.”

The queen ordered her army to pitch their tents, and encamp where they were; and accompanied prince Amgiad to the city and palace, where he presented her to the king; who received her in a manner becoming her dignity.  Assad, who was present, and knew her as soon as he saw her, also paid his respects to her.  She appeared greatly rejoiced to see him.  While they were thus engaged, tidings came, that an army more powerful than the former approached on the other side of the city.

The king of the magicians was more terrified than before, understanding the second army was more numerous than the first, for he saw this by the clouds of dust they raised, which hid the face of the heavens.  “Amgiad,” cried he, “what shall we do now? a new army comes to destroy us.”  Amgiad guessed what the king meant; he mounted on horseback again, and galloped towards the second army.  He demanded of the advanced guards to speak with their general, and they conducted him to their king.  When he drew near him, he alighted, prostrated himself to the ground, and asked what he required of the king his master.

The monarch replied, “I am Gaiour, king of China; my desire to learn tidings of a daughter, whose name is Badoura, whom I married to Kummir al Zummaun, son of Shaw Zummaun, king of the isles of the children of Khaledan, obliged me to leave my dominions.  I suffered that prince to go to see his father, on condition that he came back in a year with my daughter; from that time I have heard nothing of them.  Your king will lay an infinite obligation on an afflicted father, by telling him if he knows what is become of them.”

Prince Amgiad, perceiving by his discourse that the king was his grandfather, kissed his hand with tenderness, and answered him thus:  “I hope your majesty will pardon my freedom, when you know that I only pay my duty to my grandfather.  I am the son of Kummir al Zummaun, king of the isle of Ebene, and of queen Badoura, for whom you are thus troubled; and I doubt not but they are both in good health in their kingdom.”

The king of China, overjoyed to see his grandson, tenderly embraced him.  Such a meeting, so happy and unexpected, drew tears from both.  The king inquiring on what occasion he had come into a strange country, the prince told him all that had happened to him and his brother Assad.  When he had finished his relation, “My son,” replied the king of China, “it is not just that such innocent princes as you are should be longer ill used.  Comfort yourself, I will carry you and your brother home, and make your peace.  Return, and acquaint your brother with my arrival.”

While the king of China encamped in the place where prince Amgiad met him, the prince returned to inform the king of the magicians, who waited for him impatiently, how he had succeeded.

The king was astonished that so mighty a king as that of China should undertake such a long and troublesome journey, out of a desire to see his daughter.  He gave orders to make preparations for his reception, and went forth to meet him.

While these things were transacting, a great dust was seen on another side of the town; and suddenly news was brought of the arrival of a third army, which obliged the king to stop, and to desire prince Amgiad once more to see who they were, and on what account they came.

Amgiad went accordingly, and prince Assad accompanied him.  They found it was Kummir al Zummaun their father’s army, with whom he was coming to seek for them.  He was so grieved for the loss of his sons, that at last emir Jehaun-dar declared that he had saved their lives, which made him resolve to seek for them wherever he was likely to find them.

The afflicted father embraced the two princes with tears of joy, which put an end to those he had a long time shed for grief.  The princes had no sooner told him the king of China, his father-in-law, was arrived, than, accompanied by them and a small party, he rode to wait upon him in his camp.  They had not gone far, before they saw a fourth army advancing in good order, which seemed to come from Persia.

Kummir al Zummaun desired the two princes to go and see what army it was, and he would in the meanwhile wait for them.  They departed immediately, and coming up to it, were presented to the king to whom the army belonged; and, after having saluted him with due reverence, they demanded on what design he approached so near the king of the magicians’ capital.  The grand vizier, who was present, answered in the name of the king his master, “The monarch to whom you speak is Shaw Zummaun, king of the isles of the children of Khaledan, who has a longtime travelled, thus attended, to seek his son, who left his dominions many years ago:  if you know any thing of him, you cannot oblige him more than by communicating to him all the information in your power.”

The princes only replied, that they would shortly bring him an answer, and galloping back as fast as they could, told Kummir al Zummaun that the king his father was approaching with his army.

Wonder, surprise, joy, and grief, had such an effect on Kummir al Zummaun, that he fainted as soon as he heard he was so near.  Prince Amgiad and prince Assad, by their assiduities, at length brought him to himself; and when he had recovered his strength, he went to his father’s tent, and threw himself at his feet.

Never was there a more affecting interview.  Shaw Zummaun gently upbraided his son with unkindness in so cruelly leaving him; and Kummir al Zummaun discovered a hearty sorrow for the fault which love had urged him to commit.

The three kings, and queen Margiana, stayed three days at the court of the king of the magicians, who treated them magnificently.  These three days were rendered more remarkable by prince Assad’s marriage with queen Margiana, and prince Amgiad with Bostama, for the service she had done his brother Assad.

At length the three kings, and queen Margiana, with her husband Assad, returned to their respective kingdoms.  As for Amgiad, the king of the magicians had such an affection for him, he could not part with him; and being very old, he resigned his crown to him.  Amgiad, when he had the supreme authority, did his utmost to exterminate the worship of fire, and establish the Mahummedan religion throughout his dominions.

The story of Noor ad Deen and the fair
Persian.

The city of Bussorah was for many years the capital of a kingdom tributary to the caliphs of Arabia.  The king who governed it in the days of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed was named Zinebi, who not thinking it proper to commit the administration of his affairs to a single vizier, made choice of two, Khacan and Saouy.

Khacan was of a sweet, generous, and affable temper, and took pleasure in obliging, to the utmost of his power, those with whom he had any business to transact, without violating the justice which it became him to dispense to all.  He was therefore universally respected, at court, in the city, and throughout the whole kingdom; and the praises he so highly deserved were the general theme.

Saouy was of a very different character:  he was always sullen and morose, and disgusted every body, without regard to their rank or quality.  Instead of commanding respect by the liberal distribution of his immense wealth, he was so perfect a miser as to deny himself the necessaries of life.  In short, nobody could endure him; and nothing good was said of him.  But what rendered him most hateful to the people, was his implacable aversion to Khacan.  He was always putting the worst construction on the actions of that worthy minister, and endeavouring as much as possible to prejudice him with the king.

One day after council, the king of Bussorah amused himself with his two viziers and some other members.  The conversation turned upon the female slaves that are daily bought and sold, and who hold nearly the same rank as the lawful wives.  Some were of opinion, that personal beauty in slaves so purchased was of itself sufficient to render them proper substitutes for wives, which, often on account of alliance or interest in families, men are obliged to marry, though they are not always possessed of any perfection, either of mind or body.

Others maintained, and amongst the rest Khacan, that personal charms were by no means the only qualifications to be desired in a slave; but that they ought to be accompanied with a great share of wit, a cultivated understanding, modesty, and, if possible, every agreeable accomplishment.  The reason they gave was, that nothing could be more gratifying to persons on whom the management of important affairs devolved, than, after having spent the day in fatiguing employment, to have a companion in their retirement, whose conversation would be not only pleasing, but useful and instructive:  for, in short, continued they, there is but little difference between brutes and those men who keep a slave only to look at, and to gratify a passion that we have in common with them.

The king entirely concurred in this opinion, and accordingly ordered Khacan to buy him a slave, of perfect beauty, mistress of all the qualifications they had enumerated, and possessed, above all things, of an enlightened understanding.

Saouy, jealous of the honour the king had done Khacan, and differing widely with him in opinion, said, “Sire, it will be very difficult to find a slave so accomplished as your majesty requires; and should such a one be discovered, which I scarcely believe possible, she will be cheap at ten thousand pieces of gold.”  “Saouy,” replied the king, “I perceive plainly you think the sum too great; it may be so for you, though not for me.”  Then turning to his high treasurer, he ordered him to send the ten thousand pieces of gold to the vizier’s house.

Khacan, as soon as he had returned home, sent for all the brokers who used to deal in women-slaves, and strictly charged them, that, if ever they met with one who answered the description he gave them, they should immediately apprise him.  The brokers, partly to oblige the vizier, and partly for their own interest, promised to use their utmost endeavours to procure for him one that would accord with his wishes.  Scarcely a day passed but they brought him a slave for his inspection, but he always discovered in each something defective.

One day, early in the morning, as Khacan was mounting his horse to go to court, a broker came to him, and, taking hold of the stirrup with great eagerness, told him a Persian merchant had arrived very late the day before, who had a slave to sell, so surprisingly beautiful that she excelled all the women his eyes had ever beheld; “And for wit and knowledge,” added he, “the merchant engages she shall match the most acute and learned persons of the age.”

Khacan, overjoyed at this intelligence, which promised him a favourable opportunity for making his court, ordered him to bring the slave to his palace against his return, and departed.

The broker failed not to be at the vizier’s at the appointed hour; and Khacan, finding the lovely slave so much beyond his expectation, immediately gave her the name of the fair Persian.  As he had himself much wit and learning, he soon perceived by her conversation, that it was in vain to search further for a slave that surpassed her in any of the qualifications required by the king; and therefore he asked the broker at what sum the Persian merchant valued her.

“Sir,” replied the broker, “he is a man of few words in bargaining, and he tells me, that the very lowest price he will take for her is ten thousand pieces of gold:  he has also sworn to me, that, without reckoning his care and pains from the time of his first taking her under his charge, he has laid out nearly that sum on her education in masters to improve her form and cultivate her mind, besides what she has cost him in clothes and maintenance.  As he always thought her fit for a king, he has from her infancy, when he first bought her, been sparing of nothing that might contribute towards advancing her to that high distinction.  She plays upon all kinds of instruments to perfection; she sings, dances, writes better than the most celebrated authors, makes verses, and there is scarcely any book but she has read; so that there never was a slave so accomplished heard of before.”

The vizier Khacan, who could estimate the merits of the fair Persian better than the broker, who only reported what he had heard from the merchant, was unwilling to defer the bargain to a future opportunity, and therefore sent one of his servants to look for the merchant, where the broker told him he was to be found.

As soon as the Persian merchant arrived, “It is not for myself, but for the king,” said the vizier Khacan, “that I buy your slave; but, nevertheless, you must let him have her at a more reasonable price than you have set upon her.”

“Sir,” replied the merchant, “I should do myself unspeakable honour in offering her as a present to his majesty, if it became a person in my situation to make him one of such inestimable value.  I ask no more than her education and accomplishments have cost me; and all I have to say is, that I believe his majesty will be extremely pleased with the purchase.”

The vizier Khacan would stand no longer bargaining with the merchant, but paid him the money immediately.  “Sir,” said he to the vizier, upon taking his leave of him, “since the slave is designed for the king’s use, give me leave to tell you, that being extremely fatigued with our long journey, you see her at present under great disadvantage.  Though she has not her equal in the world for beauty, yet if you please to keep her at your own house for a fortnight, she will appear quite another creature.  You may then present her to the king with honour and credit; for which I hope you will think yourself much obliged to me.  The sun, you perceive, has a little injured her complexion; but after two or three times bathing, and when you have dressed her as you think proper, she will be so changed, that she will appear infinitely more charming.”

Khacan was pleased with the instructions the merchant gave him, and resolved to abide by them.  He assigned the fair Persian a particular apartment near his lady’s, whom he desired to invite her to an entertainment, and thenceforth to treat her as a person designed for the king:  he also provided for her several suits of the richest clothes that could be had, and would become her best.  Before he took his leave of the fair Persian, he said “Your happiness, madam, cannot be greater than what I am about to procure for you; you shall judge for yourself; it is for the king I have purchased you; and I hope he will be even more pleased with possessing you than I am in having discharged the commission with which his majesty has honoured me.  I think it, however, my duty to warn you that I have a son, who, though he does not want wit, is yet young, insinuating, and forward; and to caution you how you suffer him to come near you.”  The fair Persian thanked him for his advice; and after she had given him assurance of her intention to follow it, he withdrew.

Noor ad Deen, for so the vizier’s son was named, had free access to the apartment of his mother, with whom he usually ate his meals.  He was young, handsome in person, agreeable in manners, and firm in his temper; and having great readiness of wit, and fluency of language, was perfect master of the art of persuasion.  He saw the fair Persian; and from their first interview, though he knew his father had bought her purposely for the king, and had so informed him, yet he never used the least endeavour to check the violence of his passion.  In short, he resigned himself wholly to the power of her charms, by which his heart was at first captivated; and, from his first conversation with her, resolved to use his utmost endeavours to keep her from the king.

The fair Persian, on her part, had no dislike to Noor ad Deen.  “The vizier,” said she to herself, “has done me honour in purchasing me for the king; but I should have thought myself very happy if he had designed me only for his own son.”

Noor ad Deen was not remiss in improving the advantage he enjoyed of seeing and conversing with a beauty of whom he was so passionately enamoured; for he would never leave her till obliged by his mother.  “My son,” she would say, “it is not proper for a young man like you to be always in the women’s apartments; go, mind your studies, and endeavour to qualify yourself to succeed to the honours of your father.”

The fair Persian not having bathed for a considerable time on account of the length of her journey, the vizier’s lady, five or six days after she was purchased, ordered the bath in her own house to be got ready purposely for her.  She sent her to it accompanied by many other women-slaves, who were charged by the vizier’s lady to be as attentive to her as to herself, and, after bathing, to put her on a very rich suit of clothes that she had provided for her.  She was the more careful in order to ingratiate herself with her husband, by letting him see how much she interested herself in every thing that contributed to his pleasure.

As soon as she came out of the bath, the fair Persian, a thousand times more beautiful than she had appeared to Khacan when he bought her, went to visit his lady, who at first hardly knew her.  The fair Persian gracefully kissed her hand, and said, “Madam, I know not how you like me in this dress you have been pleased to order for me; but your women, who tell me it becomes me so extremely well they should scarcely know me, certainly flatter me.  From you alone I expect to hear the truth; but, if what they say be really so, I am indebted to you, madam, for the advantage it has given me.”

“Oh! my daughter,” cried the vizier’s lady, transported with joy, “you have no reason to believe my women have flattered you; I am better skilled in beauty than they; and, setting aside your dress, which becomes you admirably well, your beauty is so much improved by the bath, that I hardly knew you myself.  If I thought the bath was warm enough, I would take my turn; for I am now of an age to require its frequent use.”  “Madam,” replied the fair Persian, “I have nothing to say to the undeserved civilities you have been pleased to shew me.  As for the bath, it is in fine order; and if you design to go in, you have no time to lose, as your women can inform you.”

The vizier’s lady, considering that she had not bathed for some days, was desirous to avail herself of that opportunity; and accordingly acquainted her women with her intention, who immediately prepared all things necessary for the occasion.  The fair Persian withdrew to her apartment; and the vizier’s lady, before she went to bathe, ordered two little female slaves to stay with her, with a strict charge that if Noor ad Deen came, they should not give him admittance.

While the vizier’s lady was bathing, and the fair slave was alone in her apartment, Noor ad Deen came in, and not finding his mother in her chamber, went directly towards the fair Persian’s, and found the two little slaves in the antechamber.  He asked them where his mother was?  They told him in the bath.  “Where is the fair Persian, then?” demanded Noor ad Deen.  “In her chamber,” answered the slaves; “but we have positive orders from your mother not to admit you.”

The entrance into the fair Persian’s chamber being only covered with a piece of tapestry, Noor ad Deen went to lift it up, in order to enter, but was opposed by the two slaves, who placed themselves before it, to stop his passage.  He presently caught them both by the arms, and, thrusting them out of the antechamber, locked the door upon them.  They immediately ran with loud lamentations to the bath, and with tears in their eyes, told their lady, that Noor ad Deen, having driven them away by force, had gone into the fair Persian’s chamber.

The vizier’s lady received the account of her son’s presumption with the greatest concern.  She immediately left the bath, and dressing herself with all possible speed, came directly to the fair Persian’s chamber; but before she could get thither, Noor ad Deen had gone away.

The fair Persian was extremely surprised to see the vizier’s lady enter her chamber in tears, and in the utmost confusion.  “Madam,” said she, “may I presume to ask you the occasion of your concern; and what accident has happened in the bath, to make you leave it so soon?”

“What!” cried the vizier’s lady, “can you so calmly ask that question, after my son has been with you alone in your chamber?  Can there happen a greater misfortune to him or me?”

“I beseech you, madam,” replied the fair slave, “what prejudice can this action of Noor ad Deen’s do to you or him?”

“How,” returned the vizier’s lady, “did not my husband tell you that you were designed for the king, and sufficiently caution you to beware of our son?”

“I have not forgotten that, madam,” replied the fair Persian; “but your son came to tell me the vizier his father had changed his purpose, and instead of reserving me for the king, as he first designed, had made him a present of my person.  I easily believed him; for, oh! think how a slave as I am, accustomed from my infant years to the laws of servitude, could or ought to resist him!  I must own I did it with the less reluctance, on account of the affection for him, which the freedom of our conversation and daily intercourse has excited in my heart.  I could without regret resign the hope of ever being the king’s, and think myself perfectly happy in spending my whole life with Noor ad Deen.”

At this discourse of the fair Persian’s, the vizier’s lady exclaimed, “Would to God that what you say were true!  I should hear it with joy; but, believe me, Noor ad Deen has deceived you; for it is impossible his father should ever make him such a present.  Ah! wretched youth, how miserable has he made me! and more especially his father, by the dismal consequences we must all expect to share with him!  Neither my prayers nor tears will be able to prevail, or obtain a pardon for him; for as soon as his father hears of his violence to you, he will inevitably sacrifice him to his resentment.”  At these words she wept bitterly; and the slaves, who were as much alarmed for Noor ad Deen as herself, joined in her tears.

Shortly after the vizier Khacan entered; and being surprised to find his lady and her slaves all in tears, and the fair Persian very melancholy asked the reason; but instead of answering him his wife and the slaves continued weeping and lamenting.  This astonished him still more; at last, addressing himself to his wife, “I command you,” said he, “to let me know the reason of your tears, and to tell me the whole truth.”

The disconsolate lady could no longer refuse to satisfy her husband.  “Sir,” said she, “first promise not to use me unkindly on account of what I shall inform you, since I assure you, that what has happened has not been occasioned by any fault of mine.”  Without waiting for his answer, she then proceeded, “whilst I was bathing with my women, your son seizing that fatal opportunity to ruin us both, came hither, and made the fair Persian believe, that instead of reserving her for the king, you had given her to him as a present.  I will not say what he did after such a wicked falsehood, but shall leave you to judge.  This is the cause of my affliction, on your account, and his, for whom I want confidence to implore your pardon.”

It is impossible to express the vizier Khacan’s distraction at this account of the insolence of his son.  “Ah!” cried he, beating his breast, and tearing his beard, “miserable son! unworthy of life! hast thou at last thrown thy father from the highest pinnacle of happiness into a misfortune that must inevitably involve thee also in his ruin? neither will the king be satisfied with thy blood or mine, to avenge the affront offered to his royal person.”

His lady endeavoured to comfort him.  “Afflict yourself no more,” said she; “I shall easily raise, with part of my jewels, ten thousand pieces of gold, and you may buy another slave, more beautiful and more worthy of the king.”

“Ah!” replied the vizier, “could you think me capable of being so extremely afflicted at losing ten thousand pieces of gold?  It is not that loss, nor the loss of all I am worth, for that I should not feel; but the forfeiting my honour, more precious than all the riches in the world, that distresses me.”  “However,” replied the lady, “a loss that can be repaired by money cannot be so very great.”

“How!” exclaimed the vizier; “do you not know that Saouy is my mortal enemy; and as soon as this affair comes to his knowledge, do you think he will not exult over me before the king?  ’Your majesty,’ will he not say to him, is always talking of Khacan’s zeal and affection for your service; but see what a proof he has lately given of his claim to the regard you have hitherto shewn him.  He has received ten thousand pieces of gold to buy a slave; and, to do him justice, he has most honourably acquitted himself of that commission, by purchasing the most beautiful that ever eyes beheld; but, instead of bringing her to your majesty, he has thought it better to make a present of her to his son.  “Here, my son,” said he, “take this slave, since thou art more worthy of her than the king.”  Then, with his usual malice, will he not go on.  His son has her now entirely in his possession, and every day revels in her arms, without the least disturbance.  This, sir, is the exact truth, that I have done myself the honour of acquainting you with; and if your majesty questions my veracity, you may easily satisfy yourself.  Do you not plainly see,” continued the vizier, “how, upon such a malicious insinuation as this, I am every moment liable to have my house forced by the king’s guards, and the fair Persian taken from me, besides a thousand other misfortunes that will unavoidably follow?” “Sir,” replied the vizier’s lady to her husband, “I am sensible the malice of Saouy is very great, and that, if he have but the least intimation of this affair, he will certainly give it a turn very disadvantageous to your interest; but how is it possible that he or any one else should know what has been privately transacted in your family?  Suppose it comes to the king’s ears, and he should ask you about it; cannot you say, that upon a strict examination you did not deem the slave so fit for his majesty’s use as you had at first thought her; that the merchant has cheated you; that, indeed, she has considerable beauty, but is by no means so accomplished as she had been represented.  The king will certainly believe what you say, and Saouy be vexed to the soul, to see all his malicious design of ruining you disappointed.  Take courage then, and, if you will follow my advice, send for all the brokers, tell them you do not like the fair Persian, and order them to be as expeditious as possible in procuring for you another slave.”

As this advice appeared rational to the vizier Khacan, and as his passion began to cool, he resolved to abide by it, but his indignation against his son remained as violent as ever.

Noor ad Deen did not make his appearance during the whole of that day, and not daring to hide himself among his young companions, lest his father should search for him in their houses, he went a little way out of town, and took sanctuary in a garden, where he had never been before, and where he was totally unknown.  He did not return home till it was very late, when he knew his father was in bed; and then his mother’s women, opening the door very softly; admitted him without any noise.  He quitted the house again next morning before his father was stirring; and this plan he pursued for a whole month, to his great mortification.  Indeed, the women never flattered him, but told him plainly, his father’s anger was not at all diminished, and that he protested if he came into his sight he would certainly kill him.

The vizier’s lady learnt from her women that Noor ad Deen slept every night in the house, but she could not summon resolution to supplicate her husband for his pardon.  At last, however, she ventured.  One day she said to him, “I have hitherto been silent, sir, not daring to take the liberty of talking to you about your son; but now give me leave to ask what you design to do with him?  It is impossible for a son to have acted more criminally towards a father than he has done, in depriving you of the honour and gratification of presenting to the king a slave so accomplished as the fair Persian.  This I acknowledge; but, after all, are you resolved to destroy him, and, instead of a light evil no more to be thought of, to draw upon yourself a far greater than perhaps you at present apprehend?  Are you not afraid that the malicious world, which inquires after the reason of your son’s absconding, may find out the true cause, which you are so desirous of concealing?  Should that happen, you would justly fall into a misfortune, which it is so much your interest to avoid.”

“Madam,” returned the vizier, “there is much reason in what you have urged; but I cannot think of pardoning our son, till I have mortified him as he deserves.”  “He will be sufficiently mortified,” replied the lady, “if you will only do what has just suggested itself to my mind.  Your son comes home every night after you have retired; he sleeps here, and steals out every morning before you are stirring.  Wait for his coming in to-night, make as if you designed to kill him, upon which I will run to his assistance, and when he finds he owes his life entirely to my prayers and entreaties, you may oblige him to take the fair Persian on what condition you please.  He loves her, and I am well satisfied the fair slave has no aversion for him.”

Khacan readily consented to this stratagem.  Accordingly, when Noor ad Deen came at the usual hour, before the door was opened, he placed himself behind it:  as soon as he entered, he rushed suddenly upon him, and got him down under his feet.  Noor ad Deen, lifting up his head, saw his father with a dagger in his hand, ready to stab him.

At that instant his mother arrived, and catching hold of the vizier’s arm, cried, “Sir, what are you doing?” “Let me alone,” replied the vizier, “that I may kill this base, unworthy son.”  “You shall kill me first,” returned the mother; “never will I suffer you to imbue your hands in your own blood.”  Noor ad Deen improved this moment.  “My father,” cried he with tears in his eyes, “I implore your clemency and compassion; nor must you deny me pardon, since I ask it in his name before whom we must all appear at the last day.”

Khacan suffered the dagger to be taken out of his hand; and as soon as Noor ad Deen was released, he threw himself at his father’s feet and kissed them, to shew how sincerely he repented of having offended him.  “Son,” said the vizier, “return thanks to your mother, since it is for her sake I pardon you.  I propose also to give you the fair Persian, on condition that you will bind yourself by an oath not to regard her any longer as a slave, but as your wife; that you will not sell her, nor ever be divorced from her.  As she possesses an excellent understanding, and abundantly more wit and prudence than yourself, I doubt not but that she will be able to moderate those rash sallies of youth, which are otherwise so likely to effect your ruin.”

Noor ad Deen, who little expected such indulgent treatment, returned his father a thousand thanks, and the fair Persian and he were well pleased with being united to each other.

The vizier Khacan, without waiting for the king’s inquiries about the success of the commission he had given him, took particular care to mention the subject often, representing to his majesty the many difficulties he met, and how fearful he was of not acquitting himself to his majesty’s satisfaction.  In short, he managed the business with so much address, that the king insensibly forgot it.  Though Saouy had gained some intimation of the transaction, yet Khacan was so much in the king’s favour, that he was afraid to divulge what he had heard.

This delicate affair had now been kept rather more than a year with greater secrecy than the vizier at first expected, when being one day in the bath, and some important business obliging him to leave it, warm as he was, the air, which was then cold, struck to his breast, caused a defluxion to fall upon his lungs, which threw him into a violent fever, and confined him to his bed.  His illness increasing every day, and perceiving he had not long to live, he thus addressed himself to his son, who never quitted him during the whole of his illness:  “My son,” said he, “I know not whether I have well employed the riches heaven has blessed me with, but you see they are not able to save me from the hands of death.  The last thing I desire of you with my dying breath is, that you would be mindful of the promise you made me concerning the fair Persian, and in this assurance I shall die content.”

These were the vizier Khacan’s last words.  He expired a few moments after, and left his family, the court, and the whole city, in great affliction, The king lamented him as a wise, zealous, and faithful minister; and the people bewailed him as their protector and benefactor..  Never was there a funeral in Bussorah solemnized with greater pomp and magnificence.  The viziers, emirs, and in general all the grandees of the court, strove for the honour of bearing his coffin, one after another, upon their shoulders, to the place of burial; and both rich and poor accompanied him, dissolved in tears.

Noor ad Deen exhibited all the demonstrations of a sorrow proportioned to the loss he had sustained, and long refrained from seeing any company.  At last he admitted of a visit from an intimate acquaintance.  His friend endeavoured to comfort him; and finding him inclined to hear reason, told him, that having paid what was due to the memory of his father, and fully satisfied all that decency required of him, it was now high time to appear again in the world, to converse with his friends, and maintain a character suitable to his birth and talents.  “For,” continued he, “though we should sin against the laws both of nature and society, and be thought insensible, if on the death of our fathers we neglected to pay them the duties which filial love imposes upon us; yet having performed these, and put it out of the power of any to reproach us for our conduct, it behoves us to return to the world, and our customary occupations.  Dry up your tears then, and reassume that wonted air of gaiety which has always inspired with joy those who have had the honour of your friendship.”

This advice seemed too reasonable to be rejected, and had Noor ad Deen strictly abided by it, he would certainly have avoided all the misfortunes that afterwards befell him.  He entertained his friend honourably; and when he took his leave, desired him to come again the next day, and bring with him three or four friends of their acquaintance.  By this means he insensibly fell into the society of about ten young men nearly of his own age, with whom he spent his time in continual feasting and entertainments; and scarcely a day passed but he made every one of them some considerable present.

The fair Persian, who never approved of his extravagant way of living, often spoke her mind freely.  “I question not,” said she, “but the vizier your father has left you an ample fortune:  but great as it may be, be not displeased with your slave for telling you, that at this rate of living you will quickly see an end of it.  We may sometimes indeed treat our friends, and be merry with them; but to make a daily practice of it, is certainly the high road to ruin and destruction:  for your own honour and reputation, you would do better to follow the footsteps of your deceased father, that in time you may rise to that dignity by which he acquired so much glory and renown.”

Noor ad Deen hearkened to the fair Persian with a smile:  and when she had done, “My charmer,” said he, with the same air of gaiety, “say no more of that; let us talk of nothing but mirth and pleasure.  In my father’s lifetime I was always under restraint; and I am now resolved to enjoy the liberty I so much sighed for before his death.  It will be time enough for me hereafter to think of leading the sober, regular life you talk of; and a man of my age ought to taste the pleasures of youth.”

What contributed still more to the ruin of Noor ad Deen’s fortune, was his unwillingness to reckon with his steward; for whenever he brought in his accounts, he still sent him away without examining them:  “Go, go,” said he, “I trust wholly to your honesty; only take care to provide good entertainments for my friends.”

“You are the master, sir,” replied he, “and I but the steward; however, you would do well to think upon the proverb, ’He that spends much, and has but little, must at last insensibly be reduced to poverty.’  You are not contented with keeping an extravagant table, but you must lavish away your estate with both hands:  and were your coffers as large as mountains, they would not be sufficient to maintain you.”  “Begone,” replied Noor ad Deen, “I want not your grave lessons; only take care to provide good eating and drinking, and trouble your head no farther about the rest.”

In the meantime, Noor ad Deen’s friends were constant guests at his table, and never failed to take advantage of the easiness of his temper.  They praised and flattered him, extolling his most indifferent actions; but, above all, they took particular care to commend whatever belonged to him; and in this they found their account.  “Sir,” said one of them, “I came the other day by your estate that lies in such a place; nothing can be so magnificent or so handsomely furnished as your house; and the garden belonging to it is a paradise upon earth.”  “I am very glad it pleases you,” replied Noor ad Deen:  “bring me pen, ink, and paper; without more words, it is at your service; I make you a present of it.”  No sooner had others commended one of his houses, baths, or public buildings erected for the use of strangers, the yearly revenue of which was very considerable, than he immediately gave them away.  The fair Persian could not forbear stating to him how much injury he did himself; but, instead of paying any regard to her remonstrances, he continued his extravagances, and the first opportunity that offered, squandered away the little he had left.

In short, Noor ad Deen did nothing for a whole year but feast and make merry, wasting and consuming, with the utmost prodigality, the great wealth that his predecessors, and the good vizier his father, had with so much pains and care acquired and preserved.

The year was but just expired, when a person one day knocked at the door of the hall, where he and his friends were at dinner together by themselves, having sent away the slaves, that they might enjoy the greater liberty.

One of his friends offered to rise; but Noor ad Deen stepping before him, opened the door himself.  It was the steward; and Noor ad Deen, going a little out of the hall to know his business, left the door half open.

The friend that offered to rise from his seat, seeing it was the steward, and being curious to know what he had to say, placed himself between the hangings and the door, where he plainly overheard the steward’s discourse to his master.  “Sir,” said he, “I ask a thousand pardons for coming to disturb you in the height of your pleasure; but what I have to say is of such importance, that I thought myself bound in duty to acquaint you with it.  I am come, sir, to make up my last accounts, and to tell you, that what I all along foresaw, and have often warned you of, is at last come to pass.  I have not the smallest piece left of all the sums I have received from you for your expenses; the other funds you assigned me are all exhausted.  The farmers, and those that owe you rent, have made it so plainly appear to me, that you have assigned over to others what they held of you, that it is impossible for me to get any more from them on your account.  Here are my books; if you please, examine them; and if you wish I should continue useful to you, assign me other funds, or else give me leave to quit your service.”  Noor ad Deen was so astonished at his statement, that he gave him no answer.

The friend who had been listening all this while, and had heard every syllable of what the steward said, immediately came in, and told the company what he had overheard.  “It is your business, gentlemen,” said he, “to make your use of this caution; for my part, I declare to you, this is the last visit I design ever to make Noor ad Deen.”  “Nay,” replied they, “if matters go thus, we have as little business here as you; and for the future shall take care not to trouble him with our company.”

Noor ad Deen returned presently after; notwithstanding all his efforts to appear gay to his guests, he could not so dissemble his concern, but they plainly perceived the truth of what they had heard.  He was scarcely sat down in his place, when one of his friends arose:  “Sir,” said he, “I am sorry I cannot have the honour of keeping you company any longer; and therefore I hope you will excuse my rudeness in leaving you so soon.”  “What urgent affair,” demanded Noor ad Deen, “obliges you to be going so soon?” “My wife, sir,” he replied, “is brought to bed to-day; and upon such an occasion, you know a husband’s company is always necessary.”  So making a very low bow, he went away.  A minute afterwards a second took his leave, with another excuse.  The rest did the same, one after another, till at last not one of the ten friends that had hitherto kept Noor ad Deen company remained.

As soon as they were gone, Noor ad Deen, little suspecting the resolution they had formed never to see him again, went directly to the fair Persian’s apartment; to whom he related all the steward had told him, and seemed extremely concerned at the ill state of his affairs.  “Sir,” said the fair Persian, “allow me to say, you would never take my advice, but always managed your concerns after your own way, and now you see the fatal consequences.  I find I was not mistaken, when I presaged to what a miserable condition you would bring yourself at last:  but what afflicts me the more is, that at present you do not see the worst of your misfortunes.  Whenever I presumed freely to remonstrate with you, ‘Let us be merry,’ you replied, ’and improve the time that Fortune offers us; perhaps she will not always be so prodigal of her favours:’  but was I to blame in telling you, that we are ourselves the makers of our own fortunes by a prudent management of them?  You would not hearken to me; and I was forced, however reluctantly, to let you go on.”

“I must own,” replied Noor ad Deen, “I was extremely in the wrong in not following the advice which with such admirable prudence you gave me.  It is true, I have spent my estate; but do you not consider, it is among a chosen set of friends, whom I have long known, and who, I am persuaded, have more generosity and gratitude than to abandon me in distress?” “Sir,” replied the fair Persian, “if you have nothing but the gratitude of your friends to depend on, your case is desperate; for, believe me, that hope is ill-grounded, and you will tell me so yourself in time.”

To this Noor ad Deen replied, “Charming Persian, I have a better opinion of my friends’ generosity:  to-morrow I design to visit them all, before the usual time of their coming hither; and you shall see me return with a round sum that they will assist me with.  I am resolved to alter my way of living, and, with the money they lend me, to set up in some business.”

Next morning, Noor ad Deen visited his ten friends, who lived in the same street.  He knocked at the first door, where one of the richest of them resided.  A slave came to the door:  but before he would open it, asked who was there.  “Tell your master,” said he to the slave, “it is Noor ad Deen, the late vizier Khacan’s son.”  The slave opened the door, and shewed him into a hall, where he left him, in order to inform his master, who was in an inner room, that Noor ad Deen was come to wait on him, “Noor ad Deen!” cried he, in a disdainful tone, loud enough for him to hear:  “go tell him I am not at home; and whenever he may come again, be sure you give him the same answer.”  The slave returned, and told Noor ad Deen he thought his master was within, but was mistaken.

Noor ad Deen came away in the greatest confusion.  “Ah! base, ungrateful wretch!” cried he, “to treat me so to-day after the vows and protestations of friendship that he made me yesterday.”  He went to another door, but that friend ordered his slave also to say he was gone out.  He had the same answer at the third; and, in short, all the rest denied themselves, though every one was at home.

Noor ad Deen now began in earnest to reflect with himself, and see the folly of relying upon the protestations of attachment that his false friends had solemnly made him in the time of his prosperity, when he could treat them sumptuously, and load them with favours.  “It is true,” said he to himself, “that a fortunate man, as I was, may be compared to a tree laden with fruit, which, as long as there is any on its boughs, people will be crowding round, and gathering; but as soon as it is stripped of all, they immediately leave it, and go to another.”  He smothered his passion as much as possible while he was abroad; but no sooner was he got home than he gave a loose to his affliction, and discovered it to the fair Persian.

The fair Persian seeing him so extremely concerned, guessed he had not found his friends so ready to assist him as he expected.  “Well, sir,” said she, “are you now convinced of the truth of what I told you?” “Ah!” cried he, “thou hast been too true a prophetess; for not one of them would know me, see me, or speak to me.  Who could ever have believed, that persons so highly obliged to me, and on whom I have spent my estate, could have used me so ungratefully?  I am distracted; and I fear shall commit some action unworthy myself, in the deplorable and desperate condition I am reduced to, unless you assist me with your prudent advice.”  “Sir,” replied the fair Persian, “I see no other way of supporting yourself in your misfortunes, but selling off your slaves and furniture, and living on the money they produce, till heaven points out some other means to deliver you from your present misery.”

Noor ad Deen was loth to resort to this expedient; but what could he do in the necessitous circumstances to which he was reduced?  He first sold off his slaves, those unprofitable mouths, which would have been a greater expense to him than in his present condition he could bear.  He lived on the money for some time; and when it was spent, ordered his goods to be carried into the market-place, where they were sold for half their value, though there were among them several articles that had cost immense sums.  Upon the produce of these he lived a considerable time; but this supply failing at last, he had nothing left by which he could raise any more money, of which he informed the fair Persian in the most sorrowful expressions.

Noor ad Deen little expected the answer this prudent woman made him.  “Sir,” said she, “I am your slave; and the late vizier your father gave ten thousand pieces of gold for me.  I know I am a little sunk in value since that time; but I believe I shall sell for pretty near that sum.  Let me entreat you then instantly to carry me to the market, and expose me to sale; and with the money that you get for me, which will be very considerable, you may turn merchant in some city where you are not known, and by that means find a way of living, if not in splendour, yet with happiness and content.”

“Lovely and adorable Persian!” cried Noor ad Deen, “is it possible you can entertain such a thought?  Have I given you such slender proofs of my love, that you should think me capable of so base an action?  But suppose me so vile a wretch, could I do it without being guilty of perjury, after the oath I have taken to my late father never to sell you?  I would sooner die than break it, and part with you, whom I love infinitely beyond myself; though, by the unreasonable proposal you have made me, you shew me that your love is by no means reciprocal.”

“Sir,” replied the fair Persian, “I am convinced that your passion for me is as sincere as you express; and heaven, who knows with what reluctance I have made this proposal which induces you to think so hardly of me, is my witness, that mine is as great as yours; but to silence your reasons, I need only bid you remember, that necessity has no law.  I love you to that degree that it is impossible for you to love me more; and be assured, that to what master soever I shall belong, my love for you will continue undiminished; and if you are ever able to redeem me, as I hope you may, it will be the greatest pleasure in the world to be restored to you again.  I confess it is a fatal and cruel necessity to which we are driven; but I see no other way of freeing ourselves from the misery that involves us both.”

Noor ad Deen, convinced of the truth of what the fair Persian had said, and that there was no other way of avoiding a shameful poverty, was forced to yield to her proposal.  Accordingly he led her to the market where the women-slaves are exposed to sale, with a regret that cannot easily be expressed.  He applied himself to a broker, named Hagi Hassan.  “Hagi Hassan,” said he, “here is a slave whom I mean to sell; what will they give for her?”

Hagi Hassan desired Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian to walk into a room; and when she had pulled off the veil that covered her face, “Sir,” said Hagi Hassan, in surprise, “if I am not mistaken, this is the slave your father, the late vizier, gave ten thousand pieces of gold for?” Noor ad Deen assured him she was the same and Hagi Hassan gave him some hopes of selling her at a high price, and promised to use all his art to raise her value as high as he could.

Hagi Hassan and Noor ad Deen went out of the room; and Hagi Hassan locked the fair Persian in.  He went immediately to the merchants; but they being busy in buying slaves from different countries, Greeks, Franks, Africans, Tartars, and others, he was forced to wait till the market was over.  When the sale was ended, and the greatest part of them were got together again, “My masters,” said he to them, with an air of gaiety in his looks and actions, “every thing that is round is not a nut, every thing that is long is not a fig, all that is red is not flesh, and all eggs are not fresh; it is true you have seen and bought a great many slaves in your lives, but you never yet saw one comparable to her I am going to tell you of.  She is the very pearl of slaves.  Come, follow me, you shall see her yourselves, and judge at what rate I shall cry her.”

The merchants followed Hagi Hassan into the apartment where he had left the fair Persian, and as soon as they beheld her were so surprised at her beauty, that they unanimously agreed, four thousand pieces of gold was the very lowest price they could set upon her.  The merchants left the room; and Hagi Hassan, who came out with them, without going any farther, proclaimed with a loud voice, “Four thousand pieces of gold for a Persian slave.”

None of the merchants had yet offered anything, and were consulting together about what they might afford to give for her, when the vizier Saouy appeared.  Perceiving Noor ad Deen in the market, he said to himself, “Noor ad Deen is certainly still making money of his goods” (for he knew he had exposed them to sale), “and is come hither to buy a slave with the product.”  He advanced forward just as Hagi Hassan began to proclaim a second time, “Four thousand pieces of gold for a Persian slave.”

The vizier Saouy, who concluded by the high price, that the slave must be extraordinarily beautiful, was very desirous to see her; so spurring his horse forward, he rode up to Hagi Hassan, who was surrounded by the merchants.  “Open the door,” said he, “and let me see the slave.”  It was not the custom to shew a slave to a particular person after the merchants had seen her, and were treating for her; but none of them durst dispute their right with the vizier; and Hagi Hassan was obliged to open the door, and he made a sign to the fair Persian to come forward, that Saouy might see her, without alighting from his horse.

The vizier was astonished at the sight of so beautiful a slave; and knowing the broker’s name (having formerly dealt with him), “Hagi Hassan,” said he, “is it not at four thousand pieces of gold that you cry her?” “Yes, sir,” answered he; “the merchants just now agreed that I should put her up at that price:  I wait their advance; and I question not but they will give a great deal more.”

“If no one offers more, I will give that sum,” replied Saouy, looking at the merchants at the same time with a countenance that forbad them to advance the price.  He was so universally dreaded, that no one durst speak a word, even to complain of his encroaching upon their privilege.

The vizier having stayed some time, and finding none of the merchants outbid him, “What do you stay for?” said he to Hagi Hassan.  “Inquire after the seller, and strike a bargain with him at four thousand pieces of gold, or ask if he demands more.”

Hagi Hassan having locked the chamber-door, went to confer with Noor ad Deen.  “Sir,” said he to him, “I am very sorry to bring you the ill news of your slave’s going to be sold for nothing.”  “How so?” replied Noor ad Deen.  “Why sir,” continued Hagi Hassan, “you must know that the business at first went on well; for as soon as the merchants had seen your slave, they ordered me, without hesitation, to cry her at four thousand pieces of gold; accordingly I cried her at that price, but presently the vizier Saouy came, and his presence has stopped the mouths of all the merchants, who seemed disposed to raise her, at least to the same price your deceased father gave for her.  Saouy will give no more than four thousand pieces; and it is much against my inclination that I am come to tell you his despicable offer.  The slave indeed is your own; but I will never advise you to part with her upon those terms, since you and every one else are sensible of her being worth infinitely more; besides, he is base enough to contrive a way to trick you out of the money.”

“Hagi Hassan,” replied Noor ad Deen, “I am highly obliged to thee for thy advice:  do not think I will ever sell my slave to any enemy of our family; my necessities, indeed, are at present very great; but I would sooner die in the utmost poverty than consent to delivering her up to him.  I have only one thing to beg of thee, who art skilful in all the turns and shifts of sale, that thou wouldst put me in a way to prevent the completion of the bargain.”

“Sir,” said Hagi Hassan, “nothing is more easy:  you must pretend that, being in a violent passion with your slave, you swore to expose her in the market, and for the sake of your oath have now brought her hither, without any intention of selling her.  This will satisfy every one; and Saouy will have nothing to say against it.  Come along with me then; and just as I am presenting her to Saouy as if it were by your own consent, pull her to you, give her two or three blows, and send her home.”  “I thank thee for thy counsel,” said Noor ad Deen, “and will make use of it.”

Hagi Hassan went back to the chamber; and having privately acquainted the fair Persian with their design, that she might not be surprised, took her by the hand, and led her to the vizier Saouy, who was still on horseback at the door “Sir,” said he, “here is the slave, she is yours; take her.”

The words were scarcely out of Hagi Hassan’s mouth, when Noor ad Deen, catching hold of the fair Persian, pulled her to him, and giving her a box on the ear, “Come hither, impertinence,” said he, “and get you home again; for though your ill-humour obliged me to swear I should bring you hither, yet I never intended to sell you:  I have business for you to do yet; and it will be time enough to part with you when I have nothing else left.”

This conduct of Noor ad Deen put the vizier Saouy into a violent passion.  “Miserable debauchee,” cried he, “wouldst thou have me believe thou hast any thing else left to make money of but thy slave?” and at the same instant, spurring his horse directly against him, endeavoured to carry off the fair Persian.  Noor ad Deen nettled to the quick at the affront the vizier had put upon him, quitted the fair Persian, and laying hold of his horse’s bridle, made him run two or three paces backwards.  “Vile dotard,” said he to the vizier, “I would tear thy soul out of thy body this moment, were it not out of respect for the crowd of people here present.”

The vizier Saouy being hated by all, there was not one among them but was pleased to see Noor ad Deen mortify him; and by signs they gave him to understand, that he might revenge himself upon him as much as he pleased, for nobody would interfere in their quarrel.

Saouy endeavoured to force Noor ad Deen to quit the bridle; but he being a lusty, vigorous man, and encouraged by those that stood by, pulled him off his horse, gave him several blows, and dashed his head against the stones, till it was all over blood.  The slaves who waited upon the vizier would have drawn their cimeters, and fallen upon Noor ad Deen; but the merchants interposing prevented them.  “What do you mean?” said they to them; “do you not see that one is a vizier, the other a vizier’s son?  Let them fight it out; perhaps they will be reconciled one time or another; whereas, if you had killed Noor ad Deen, your master, with all his greatness, could not have been able to protest you against the law?”

Noor ad Deen having given over beating the vizier Saouy, left him in the mire, and taking the fair Persian, marched home with her, attended by the people, with shouts and acclamations for the action he had performed.

The vizier, cruelly bruised with the blows he had received, made shift to get up, with the assistance of his slaves, and had the mortification to see himself besmeared with blood and dirt.  He leaned on the shoulders of two slaves, and in that condition went straight to the palace in the sight of all the people, with the greater confusion, because no one pitied him.  As soon as he reached the king’s apartment, he began to cry out, and call for justice in a lamentable tone.  The king ordered him to be admitted; and asked who it was that had abused and put him into that miserable plight.  “Sire,” cried Saouy, “it is the favour of your majesty, and being admitted into your sacred councils, that has occasioned me to be so barbarously treated.”  “Say no more of that,” replied the king, “only let me hear the whole story simply, and who the offender is; and if he is in the wrong, you may depend upon it he shall be severely punished.”

“Sire,” said Saouy, telling the whole matter to his own advantage, “having occasion for a cook, I went to the market of women-slaves to buy one:  when I came thither, there was a slave just cried at four thousand pieces of gold; I ordered them to bring her before me, and I think my eyes never did nor will behold a more beautiful creature:  I had no sooner examined her beauty with the highest satisfaction, than I immediately asked to whom she belonged; and upon inquiry found that Noor ad Deen, son to the late vizier Khacan, had the disposing of her.

“Your majesty may remember, that about two or three years ago, you gave that vizier ten thousand pieces of gold, strictly charging him to buy you a slave with that sum.  The money, indeed, was laid out upon this very slave; but instead of bringing her to your majesty, thinking his son deserved her better, he made him a present of her.  Noor ad Deen, since his father’s death, having wasted his whole fortune in riot and feasting, has nothing left but this slave, whom he at last resolved to part with; and she was to be sold in his name, I sent for him; and, without mentioning any thing of his father’s prevarication, or rather treachery to your majesty, I in the civilest manner said to him, ’Noor ad Deen, the merchants, I perceive, have put your slave up at four thousand pieces of gold; and I question not, but, in emulation of each other, they will raise the price considerably:  let me have her for the four thousand pieces; I am going to buy her for the king our lord and master; this will be a handsome opportunity of making your court to him:  and his favour will be worth far more than the merchants can propose to give you.’

“Instead of returning me a civil answer, the insolent wretch, beholding me with a fierce air, “Impotent villain,” said he, ’I would rather give my slave to a Jew for nothing than to thee for money.’  ‘Noor ad Deen,’ I replied, without passion, though I had some reason to be a little warm, ’you do not consider, that by talking in this manner you affront the king, who raised both your father and me to the honours we have enjoyed.’

“This admonition, instead of softening him, only provoked him to a higher degree; so that, falling upon me like a madman, without regard to my age or rank, he pulled me off my horse, and put me into this miserable plight.  I beseech your majesty to consider, that it is on your account I have been so publicly affronted.”

The abused king, highly incensed against Noor ad Deen by this relation, so full of malice and artifice, discovered by his countenance the violence of his anger; and turning to the captain of his guards, who stood near him, “Take forty of your soldiers,” said he, “immediately plunder Noor ad Deen’s house, and having ordered it to be razed to the ground, bring him and his slave to the presence.”

Before the captain of the guards was gone out of the king’s presence, an officer belonging to the court, who overheard the order given, hastened out.  His name was Sangiar; and he had been formerly a slave of the vizier Khacan who had introduced him at court, where by degrees he had raised himself.

Sangiar, full of gratitude to his old master and affection for Noor ad Deen, whom he remembered a child, being no stranger to Saouy’s hatred of Khacan’s family, could not hear the order without concern.  “This action,” said he to himself, “may not be altogether so black as Saouy has represented it.  He has prejudiced the king against him, who will certainly put him to death, without allowing him time to justify himself.”  He made so much haste to Noor ad Deen’s house, as to get thither soon enough to acquaint him with what had passed at court, and give him time to provide for his own and the fair Persian’s safety.  He knocked so violently at the door, that Noor ad Deen, who had been a great while without any servant, ran immediately to open it.  “My dear lord,” said Sangiar, “there is no safety for you in Bussorah; you must lose no time, but depart hence this moment.”

“How so?” demanded Noor ad Deen.  “What is the reason I must be gone so soon?” “Make haste away, sir,” replied Sangiar, “and take your slave with you.  In short, Saouy has been just now acquainting the king, after his own way of telling it, all that passed between you and him; and the captain of the guards will be here in an instant, with forty soldiers, to seize you and the fair Persian.  Take these forty pieces of gold to assist you in repairing to some place of safety.  I would give you more if I had it about me.  Excuse my not staying any longer; I leave you with reluctance.”  Sangiar gave Noor ad Deen but just time to thank him, and departed.

Noor ad Deen acquainted the fair Persian with the absolute necessity of their going that moment.  She only put on her veil; they both stole out of the house, and were fortunate enough not only to get clear of the city, but also safely to arrive at the Euphrates, which was not far off, where they embarked in a vessel that lay ready to weigh anchor.

As soon as they were on board, the captain came on deck amongst his passengers.  “Children,” said he to them, “are you all here? have any of you any more business to do in the city? or have you left any thing behind you?” They were all there, they answered him, and ready; so that he might sail as soon as he pleased.  When Noor ad Deen came aboard, the first question he asked was, whither the vessel was bound? and being told for Bagdad, he rejoiced at it.  The captain, having weighed anchor, set sail; and the vessel, with a very favourable wind, lost sight of Bussorah.

The captain of the guards came to Noor ad Deen’s house, and knocked at the door; but no one answering, he ordered his soldiers to break it open, who immediately obeyed him, and rushed in.  They searched the house; but neither he nor the fair Persian were to be found.  The captain of the guards made them inquire of the neighbours; and he himself asked if they had seen them lately.  It was all in vain; for if they had seen him go out of his house, so universally beloved was Noor ad Deen by the people, that not one of them would have said the least word to his prejudice.  While they were rifling the house, and levelling it to the ground, he went to acquaint the king with the news.  “Look for them,” said he, “every where; for I am resolved to have them.”

The captain of the guards made a second search, and the king dismissed the vizier Saouy with honour.  “Go home,” said he, “trouble yourself no farther to punish Noor ad Deen; I will revenge your injuries.”

Without delay the king ordered to be proclaimed throughout the whole city a reward of a thousand pieces of gold for any person that should apprehend Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian, also a severe punishment upon those who should conceal them.  No tidings however could be heard of them; and the vizier Saouy had only the comfort of seeing the king espouse his quarrel.

In the mean time, Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian, after a prosperous voyage, landed safe at Bagdad.  As soon as the captain came within sight of that city, pleased that his voyage was at an end, “Rejoice, my children,” cried he to the passengers; “yonder is that great and wonderful city, where there is a perpetual concourse of people from all parts of the world:  there you shall meet with innumerable crowds, and never feel the extremity of cold in winter, nor the excess of heat in summer, but enjoy an eternal spring with all its flowers, and the delicious fruits of autumn.”

When the vessel came to anchor, a little below the city, the passengers went ashore, each to their respective place of abode.  Noor ad Deen gave the captain five pieces of gold for his passage, and went ashore also with the fair Persian; but being a perfect stranger in Bagdad, was at a loss for a lodging.  They rambled a considerable time along the gardens that bordered on the Tigris, and keeping close to one of them that was enclosed with a very long wall, at the end of it they turned into a street well paved, where they perceived a magnificent gateway and a fountain near it.

The inner door happened to be shut, but the portal was open, in which there was an estrade on each side.  “This is a very convenient place for us,” said Noor ad Deen to the fair Persian; “night comes on apace; and though we have eaten nothing since our landing, I am for passing the night here, and to-morrow we shall have time enough to look for a lodging.”  “Sir,” replied the fair Persian, “you know your wishes are mine; let us go no farther, since you are willing to stay here.”  Each of them having drunk a draught of water at the fountain, they laid themselves down upon one of the estrades; and after a little chat, being soothed by the agreeable murmur of the water, fell asleep.

The garden belonged to the caliph:  and in the middle of it there was a pavilion, called the pavilion of pictures, because its chief ornaments were pictures after the Persian manner, drawn by the most celebrated painters in Persia, whom the caliph had sent for on purpose.  The stately hall within this pavilion was lighted by fourscore arches and a lustre in each; but these were lighted only when the caliph came thither to spend the evening.  On such occasions they made a glorious illumination, and could be seen at a great distance in the country on that side, and by great part of the city.

The office of keeper of this pleasure house was at this time held by a very aged officer, named Scheich Ibrahim, whom the caliph, for some important service, had put into that employment, with strict charge not to let all sorts of people in, but especially to suffer no one either to sit or lie down on the estrades at the outward door, that they might always be clean; and whenever he found any body there, to punish them severely.

Some business had obliged this officer to go abroad, and he was not yet returned.  When he came back, there was just day-light enough for him to discern two persons asleep upon one of the estrades, with their heads under a piece of linen, to defend them from the gnats.  “Very well,” said Scheich Ibrahim to himself; “these people disobey the caliph’s orders:  but I will take care to teach them better manners.”  Upon this he opened the door very softly, and a moment after returned with a cane in his hand, and his sleeve tucked up to the elbow:  he was just going to lay on them both with all his might, but withholding his arm, began to reason with himself after this manner:  “Thou wast going, without reflection, to strike these people, who perhaps are strangers, destitute of a lodging, and utterly ignorant of the caliph’s order; so that it would be advisable to know first who they are.”  Upon this he gently lifted up the linen that covered their heads, and was astonished to see a young man so well shaped, and a young woman so beautiful; he then waked Noor ad Deen, by pulling him softly by the feet.

Noor ad Deen, lifting up his head, and seeing an old man with a long white beard standing at his feet, got up, and throwing himself upon his knees, and taking his hand, kissed it.  “Good father,” said he, “Heaven preserve you!” “What do you want, my son?” replied Scheich Ibrahim; “who are you, and whence came you?” “We are strangers newly arrived,” answered Noor ad Deen, “and would fain tarry here till to-morrow.”  “This is not a proper place for you,” said Scheich Ibrahim; “come in with me, and I will find one fitter for you to sleep in than this; and the sight of the garden, which is very fine, will please you, when you see it to-morrow by day light.”  “Is this garden your own?” asked Noor ad Deen.  “Yes,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, smiling; “it is an inheritance left me by my father:  pray walk in, for I am sure you will not repent seeing it.”

Noor ad Deen rose to thank Scheich Ibrahim for the civility he had strewn, as did afterwards the fair Persian; and they entered the garden.  Scheich Ibrahim locked the door, and going before, led them to a spot from whence, at one view, they might see the disposition, grandeur, and beauty of the whole.

Noor ad Deen had seen very fine gardens, but never any comparable to this.  Having satisfied his curiosity, as he was walking in one of the walks, he turned about to the officer, and asked his name.  As soon as he had told him it was Scheich Ibrahim; “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he to him, “I must confess this is a charming garden indeed.  Heaven send you long to enjoy the pleasures of it; we cannot sufficiently thank you for the favour you have done by shewing us a place so well worth seeing; however, it is but just that we should make you some amends for your kindness; here are two pieces of gold; take them and get us something to eat, that we may be merry together.”

At the sight of the two pieces of gold, Scheich Ibrahim, who was a great admirer of that metal, laughed in his sleeve:  he took them, and leaving Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian by themselves, went to provide what was necessary; for he was alone.  Said he to himself with great joy, “these are generous people; I should have done very wrong, if, through imprudence, I had ill-treated and driven them away.  A tenth part of the money will suffice to treat them; and the rest I will keep for my pains.”

While Scheich Ibrahim was gone to fetch something for his own supper, as well as for his guests Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian walked up and down the garden, till at last they came to the pavilion of pictures.  They stood awhile to admire its wonderful structure, size, and loftiness; and after taking a full view of it on every side, went up many steps of fine white marble to the hall-door, which they found locked.

They were but just returned to the bottom of the steps, when Scheich Ibrahim arrived, loaded with provisions.  “Scheich Ibrahim,” said Noor ad Deen, in great surprise, “did you not tell us that this was your garden?” “I did,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, “and do so still.”  “And does this magnificent pavilion also belong to you?” Scheich Ibrahim was staggered at this unexpected question.  “If,” said he to himself, ’I should say it is none of mine, they will ask me how I can be master of the garden and not of the pavilion.’  As he had made them believe the garden was his, he said the same of the pavilion.  “My son,” said he, “the pavilion is not distinct from the garden; but they both belong to me.”  “If so,” said Noor ad Deen, “since you invite us to be your guests to-night, do us the favour to shew us the inside of it; for if we may judge by the outward appearance, it must certainly be extraordinarily magnificent.”

It would have been a great piece of incivility in Scheich Ibrahim to refuse this favour, after what he had already done:  moreover, he considered that the caliph not having given him notice, according to his usual custom, it was likely he would not be there that night, and therefore resolved to treat his guests, and sup with them in the pavilion.  He laid the provisions on the first step, while he went to his apartment for the key:  he soon returned with a light, and opened the door.

Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian entered the hall, and were never tired with admiring the beauty and richness of the place.  Indeed, without saying anything of the pictures which were admirably well drawn, the sofas were very noble and costly; and besides lustres suspended from every arch, there was between each a silver branch supporting a wax candle.  Noor ad Deen could not behold these glorious objects without recollecting his former splendour, and sighing.

In the mean time Scheich Ibrahim was getting supper ready; and the cloth being laid upon a sofa, and every thing in order, Noor ad Deen, the fair Persian, and he sat down and ate together.  When supper was finished, and they had washed their hands, Noor ad Deen opened a lattice, and calling the fair Persian to him, “Come hither,” said he, “and with me admire the charming prospect and beauty of the garden by moon-light; nothing can be more agreeable.”  She came to him; and they both enjoyed the view, while Scheich Ibrahim was busy in taking away the cloth.

When Scheich Ibrahim came to his guests again, Noor ad Deen asked him whether he had any liquor to treat them with.  “What liquor would you have?” replied Scheich Ibrahim—“Sherbet?  I have the best in the world; but sherbet, you know, my son, is never drunk after supper.”

“I know that very well,” said Noor ad Deen; “it is not sherbet, but another sort of liquor that we ask you for, and I am surprised at your not understanding me.”  “It is wine then you mean?” said Scheich Ibrahim.  “You guess right,” replied Noor ad Deen, “and if you have any, oblige us with a bottle:  you know a bottle after supper is a very proper companion to spend the hours with till bed-time.”

“Heaven defend me from keeping wine in my house,” cried Scheich Ibrahim, “and from ever coming to a place where any is found!  A man who, like me, has been a pilgrimage four times to Mecca, has renounced wine for ever.”

“You would do us a singular kindness,” said Noor ad Deen, “in getting a little for our own drinking; and if it be not too much trouble, I will put you in a way how you may do it, without going into a vintner’s shop, or so much as laying your hand upon the vessel that contains it.”  “Upon that condition I will do it,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, “only let me know what I am to do.”

“Why then,” said Noor ad Deen, “we just now saw an ass tied at the entrance of your garden, which certainly must be yours, and which you may make use of in this extremity:  here are two pieces of gold more; take them, and lead your ass with the panniers to the next vintner’s; you may stand at as great a distance as you please, do but give something to the first person that comes by, and desire him to go with your ass, and procure two pitchers of wine; put one in one pannier, in another, another, which he must pay for out of the money you give him, and so let him bring the ass back to you:  you will have nothing to do, but to drive the beast hither before you; we will take the wine out of the panniers:  by this means you will do nothing that will give you any scruple.”

The two last pieces of gold that Scheich Ibrahim was going to receive wrought wonderfully upon his mind.  “Ah! my son,” cried he, “you have an excellent contrivance; and had it not been for your invention, I should never have thought of this way of getting you some wine without any scruple of conscience.”  Away he went to execute the orders, which he did in a little time; and, upon his return, Noor ad Deen taking the pitchers out of the panniers, carried them into the hall.

Scheich Ibrahim having led the ass to the place from whence he took him, came back again, “Scheich Ibrahim,” said Noor ad Deen, “we cannot enough thank you for the trouble we have already given you; but we want something yet.”  “What is that?” replied Scheich:  “what more service can I do you?” “We have no cups to drink out of,” said Noor ad Deen, “and a little fruit, if you had any, would be very acceptable.”  “Do but say what you have a mind to,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, “and you shall have every thing to your heart’s content.”

Down went Scheich Ibrahim, and in a short time spread a carpet for them with beautiful porcelain dishes, full of all sorts of delicious fruits, besides gold and silver cups to drink out of; and having asked them if they wanted any thing else, he withdrew, though they pressed him earnestly to stay.

Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian sat down again, and drank each a cup.  They were pleased with the wine, which was excellent.  “Well, my dear,” said Noor ad Deen to the fair Persian, “are we not the most fortunate persons in the world, after so many dangers, to meet with so charming and agreeable a place?  Let us be merry, and think no more on the hardships of our voyage.  Can my happiness be greater in this world, than to have you on one side of me, and my glass on the other?” They drank freely, and diverted themselves with agreeable conversation, each singing a song.

Both having very fine voices, but especially the fair Persian, their singing attracted Scheich Ibrahim, who had stood hearkening a great while on the steps, without discovering himself.  He could contain himself no longer; but thrusting his head in at the door, “Courage, sir,” said he to Noor ad Deen, whom he took to be quite drunk, “I am glad to see you so pleased.”

“Ah!  Scheich Ibrahim,” cried Noor ad Deen, turning to him, “you are a glorious man, and we are extremely obliged to you.  We dare not ask you to drink a cup; but walk in; come, sit down, and let us have the honour at least of your company.”  “Go on, go on,” said Scheich Ibrahim; “the pleasure of hearing your songs is sufficient for me.”  Upon this he immediately retired.

The fair Persian perceiving Scheich Ibrahim, through one of the windows, standing upon the steps, told Noor ad Deen of it.  “Sir,” said she, “you see what an aversion he has for wine; yet I question not in the least to make him drink, if you will do as I would have you.”  Noor ad Deen asked her what it was.  “Do but say the word,” replied he, “and I am ready to do what you please.”  “Prevail with him then only to come in, and bear us company; some time after fill up a bumper, and give it him; if he refuses, drink it yourself, pretend to be asleep, and leave the rest to me.”

Noor ad Deen understood the fair Persian’s design, and called to Scheich Ibrahim, who came again to the door.  “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he, “we are your guests; you have entertained us in the most obliging manner, and will you now refuse our solicitations to honour us with your company?  We do not ask you to drink, but only the favour of seeing you.”

Scheich Ibrahim being at last prevailed upon, came into the hall, and sat down on the edge of a sofa nearest to the door.  “You do not sit well there,” said Noor ad Deen, “and we cannot have the honour of seeing you; pray come nearer, and sit you down by the lady; she will like it much.”  “I will obey you,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, so coming forward, simpering, to think he should be seated near so beautiful a creature, he placed himself at some distance from the fair Persian.  Noor ad Deen desired a song of her, in return for the honour Scheich Ibrahim had done them; and she sung one that charmed him.

When the fair Persian had ended her song, Noor ad Deen poured out a cup of wine, and presented it to Scheich Ibrahim.  “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he, “I entreat you, drink this to our healths.”  “Sir,” replied he, starting back, as if he abhorred the very sight of the wine, “I beseech you to excuse me; I have already told you that I have forsworn the use of wine these many years.”  “Then since you will not drink our healths,” said Noor ad Deen, “give me leave to drink yours.”

While Noor ad Deen was drinking, the fair Persian cut half an apple, and presented it to Scheich Ibrahim.  “Though you refused drinking,” said she, “yet I believe you will not refuse tasting this apple; it is very excellent.”  Scheich Ibrahim had no power to refuse it from so fair a hand; but taking it with a very low bow, put it in his mouth.  She said a great many pleasant things on the occasion; and Noor ad Deen, falling back upon a sofa, pretended to fall fast asleep.  The fair Persian presently advanced towards Scheich Ibrahim, and speaking in a low voice, “Look at him,” said she, “thus in all our merry parties he constantly serves me; and no sooner has he drunk a cup or two, but he falls asleep, and leaves me alone; but I hope you will have the goodness to keep me company till he awakes.”

At this the fair Persian took a cup, and filling it with wine, offered it to Scheich Ibrahim.  “Here,” said she, “drink off this to my health; I am going to pledge you.”  Scheich Ibrahim made a great many difficulties, and begged her to excuse him from drinking; but she pressed him so, that overcome by her charms and entreaties he took the cup, and drank off every drop of the wine.

The good old man loved a chirruping cup to his heart, but was ashamed to drink among strangers.  He often went to the tavern in private, as many other people do; and he did not take the precaution recommended, but went directly where he was well known (night serving him instead of a cloak), and saved the money that Noor ad Deen had ordered him to give the messenger who was to have gone for the wine.

While Scheich Ibrahim was eating fruit after his draught, the fair Persian filled him out another, which he received with less difficulty than the former, but made none at all at the third.  In short, a fourth was quaffing, when Noor ad Deen started up from his pretended sleep; and bursting out into a violent fit of laughter, and looking at him, “Ha! ha!” said he, “Scheich Ibrahim, have I caught you at last? did you not tell me you had forsworn wine? and now you have drunk it all up from me.”

Scheich Ibrahim, not expecting to be surprised, blushed a little; however, that did not spoil his draught; but when he had done, “Sir,” said he laughing, “if there is any crime in what I have done, it lies at this fair lady’s door, not mine:  for who could possibly resist so many charms?”

The fair Persian, who perfectly understood Noor ad Deen, took Scheich Ibrahim’s part.  “Let him talk,” said she, “Scheich Ibrahim, take no notice of him, but let us drink on and be merry.”  Awhile after Noor ad Deen filled out a cup for himself and the fair Persian; but when Scheich Ibrahim saw that Noor ad Deen had forgotten him in his turn, he took his cup, and presenting it to the fair Persian, “Madam,” said he, “do you suppose I cannot drink as well as you?”

At these words Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian laughed very heartily.  They poured him out some wine; and sat laughing, chatting, and drinking, till near midnight.  About that hour the fair Persian began to notice that there was but one candle on the carpet.  “Scheich Ibrahim,” said she to the good old officer, “you have afforded us but one candle, when there are so many wax-lights yonder; pray do us the favour to light some of them, that we may see a little better what we are doing.”

Scheich Ibrahim making use of the liberty that wine inspires when it gets into the head, and not caring to be interrupted in his discourse, bade the fair Persian light them herself.  “It is fitter for a young person like you to do it,” said he, “than for me; but be sure not to light above five or six” Up rose the fair Persian immediately, and taking a wax candle in her hand, lighted it with that which stood upon the carpet, and without any regard to Scheich Ibrahim’s order, lighted up the whole fourscore.

By and by, while Scheich Ibrahim was entertaining the fair Persian with some discourse, Noor ad Deen took his turn to desire him to light up some of the candles in the lustres, not taking notice that all the wax-lights were already in a blaze.  “Certainly,” replied Scheich Ibrahim, “you must be very lazy, or less vigorous than I am, that you are not able to light them yourself; get you gone, and light them; but be sure you light no more than three.”  To work he went; but instead of that number, he lighted them all, and opened the shutters of the fourscore windows, before Scheich Ibrahim, who was deeply engaged with the fair Persian, knew any thing of the matter.

The caliph Haroon al Rusheed being not yet gone to rest, was in a room of his palace on the river Tigris, from whence he could command a view both of the garden and pavilion.  He accidentally opened the casement, and was extremely surprised at seeing the pavilion illuminated; and at first, by the greatness of the light, thought the city was on fire.  The grand vizier Jaaffier was still with him, waiting for his going to rest.  The caliph, in a great rage, called the vizier to him.  “Careless vizier,” said he, “come hither, come hither; look at the pavilion of pictures, and tell me the reason of its being illuminated at this hour, now I am not there.”

The grand vizier at this account fell into a violent trembling; but when he came nearer, and with his own eyes saw the truth of what the caliph had told him, he was more alarmed than before.  Some excuse must be made to appease the caliph’s anger.  “Commander of the true believers,” said he, “all that I can say to your majesty about this matter is, that some five or six days ago Scheich Ibrahim came to acquaint me, that he had a design to assemble the ministers of his mosque, to assist at a ceremony he was ambitious of performing in honour of your majesty’s auspicious reign.  I asked him if I could be any way serviceable to him in this affair; upon which he entreated me to get leave of your majesty to perform the ceremony in the pavilion.  I sent him away with leave to hold the assembly, telling him I would take care to acquaint your majesty with it; and I ask pardon for having quite forgotten it.”  “Scheich Ibrahim,” continued he, “has certainly made choice of this day for the ceremony; and after treating the ministers of his mosque, was willing to indulge them with the sight of this illumination.”

“Jaaffier,” said the caliph, with a tone that plainly shewed his anger was a little mollified, “according to your own account, you have committed three faults; the first, in giving Scheich Ibrahim leave to perform this ceremony in my pavilion, for a person in such an office is not worthy of so great an honour; the second, in not acquainting me with it; and the third, in not diving into the bottom of the good old man’s intention.  For my part, I am persuaded he only did it to try if he could get any money towards bearing the charge of it; but that never came into your head.”

The grand vizier, overjoyed to hear the caliph put the matter upon that footing, very willingly owned the faults he reproached him with, and freely confessed he was to blame in not giving Scheich Ibrahim a few pieces of gold.  “Since the case is so,” added the caliph, “it is just that thou shouldst be punished for thy mistakes, but thy punishment shall be light:  thou shalt spend the remainder of the night as I mean to do, with these honest people, whose company I shall be well pleased with; and while I am putting on a citizen’s habit, go thou and disguise thyself with Mesrour, and come both of you along with me.”

The vizier would have persuaded him it was late, and that all the company would be gone before he could get thither:  but the caliph said he would positively go.  The vizier, who knew that not a syllable of what he had said was true, began to be in great consternation; but there was no reply to be made, and go he must.

The caliph then, disguised like a citizen, with the grand vizier Jaaffier and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, stole out of the palace together.  They rambled through the streets of Bagdad till they came to the garden; the door, through the carelessness of Scheich Ibrahim, was open, he having forgotten to shut it when he came back with the wine.  The caliph was very angry at this.  “Jaaffier,” said he to the grand vizier, “what excuse have you for the door’s being open at this unseasonable hour?” “Is it possible that Scheich Ibrahim makes a custom of leaving it thus all night?  I rather believe the hurry of the feast has been the occasion of this neglect.”

The caliph went into the garden; and when he came to the pavilion, resolving not to go into the hall till he knew what was doing, consulted with the grand vizier whether it was not his best way to climb up into one of the trees that was near, to observe what was going forward.  The grand vizier casting his eyes upon the door, perceived it stood half open, and told the caliph.  It seems Scheich Ibrahim had left it so, when he was prevailed upon to come in and bear Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian company.

The caliph laying aside his first design, stole softly up to the hall-door, which standing half open, he could see all the company within, without being discovered himself.

But how was he surprised, when he saw a lady of incomparable beauty and a handsome young man sitting, with Scheich Ibrahim by them.  Scheich Ibraham held a cup in his hand.  “My fair lady,” said he to the fair Persian, “a true toper never drinks without singing a song first:  if you please to hear, I will give you one of my best songs.”

Scheich Ibrahim sung, and the caliph was the more surprised, because till that moment he never knew of his drinking wine, but always took him for a grave, solid man, as he seemed to be to outward appearance.  The caliph retired from the door with the same caution as he had made his approaches to it; and coming to the grand vizier, who was standing on the steps a little lower, “Come up,” said he to him, “and see if those within are the ministers of the mosque, as you would have made me believe.”

By the tone of voice in which the caliph spoke these last words, the vizier understood that things went ill on his side:  however, he went up the steps; but when he had peeped in at the door, and saw the three sitting in that condition, he trembled for his life.  He returned to the caliph, but in such confusion, that he knew not what to say.  “What riotous doings are here?” said the caliph to him:  “who are these people that have presumed to take the liberty of diverting themselves in my garden and pavilion? and how durst Scheich Ibrahim give them admittance, and partake of the diversion with them?  I must, however, confess, I never saw two persons more beautiful or better paired in my life; and therefore, before I discover my anger, I will inform myself better, and know who they are, and the reason of their being here.”  He went to the door again to observe them more narrowly; and the vizier, who followed, stood behind him, while he fixed his eyes upon them.  They both plainly heard every word that Scheich Ibrahim said to the fair Persian.  “Is there any thing, my charming lady, wanting to render the pleasure of the evening more complete?” “Nothing but a lute,” replied the fair Persian, “and methinks, if you could get me one, all would be well.”  “Can you play upon it?” said Scheich Ibrahim.  “Fetch me one,” replied the fair Persian, “and you shall hear whether I can or not.”

Scheich Ibrahim, without stirring very far from his place, took a lute out of a press, and presented it to the fair Persian, who begun to tune it.  The caliph, in the mean time, turning to the grand vizier, “Jaaffier,” said he, “the young lady is going to play upon the lute; and if she performs well, I will forgive her, and the young man for her sake; but as for thee, I will have thee impaled.”  “Commander of the true believers,” replied the grand vizier, “if that is your intention, I wish to God she may play ill.”  “Why so?” said the caliph.  “Because,” replied the grand vizier, “the longer we live in this world, the more reason we shall have to comfort ourselves with the hopes of dying in good sociable company.”  The caliph, who loved a repartee, began to laugh at this; and putting his ear to the opening of the door, listened to hear the fair Persian play.

The fair Persian began in such a style, that, from the first moment of her touching the lute, the caliph perceived she did it with a masterly hand.  Afterwards accompanying the lute with her voice, which was admirably fine, she sung and played with so much skill and sweetness, that the caliph was quite ravished to hear her.

As soon as the fair Persian had finished her song, the caliph went down the steps, and the vizier followed him.  When he came to the bottom, “I never,” said he to the vizier, “heard a more charming voice, or a lute better touched.  Isaac, whom I thought the most skilful player in the world, does not come up to her.  I am so charmed with her music, that I will go in, and hear her play before me.  We must, therefore, consider how I can do it.”

“Commander of the true believers,” said the grand vizier, “if you should go in, and Scheich Ibrahim chance to know you, he would infallibly die with the fright.”  “It is that which hurts me,” replied the caliph, “and I should be loth to be the occasion of his death, after so many years service.  A thought is just come into my head, that may succeed; stay here with Mesrour, and wait for me in the next walk.”

The neighbourhood of the Tigris had given the caliph an opportunity of turning the stream under a stately bridge into his garden, through a piece of water, whither the choicest fish of the river used to retire.  The fishermen knew it well; but the caliph had expressly charged Scheich Ibrahim not to suffer any of them to come near it.  However, that night, a fisherman passing by the garden-door, which the caliph had left open as he found it, made use of the opportunity, and going in, went directly to the canal.

The fisherman immediately fell to work with his nets, and was just ready to draw them, when the caliph, fearing what would be the effect of Scheich Ibrahim’s negligence, but willing to make use of it to bring his design about, came to the same place.  The fisherman, in spite of his disguise, knew him, and throwing himself at his feet, humbly implored his pardon, and excused himself on account of his poverty.  “Rise,” said the caliph, “and be not afraid; only draw your nets, that I may see what fish you have got.”

The fisherman, recovered of his fright, quickly obeyed the caliph’s orders.  He drew out five or six very large fishes; and the caliph choosing the two biggest, tied them together by the head, with the twig of a tree.  “After this,” said he to the fisherman, “give me thy clothes, and take mine.”  The exchange was soon made; and the caliph being dressed like a fisherman, even to his boots and turban, “Take thy nets,” said he to the fisherman, “and get thee about thy business.”

When the fisherman, well pleased with his good fortune, was gone, the caliph, taking the two fishes in his hand, went to look after the grand vizier and Mesrour; he first met Jaaffier, who, not knowing him, asked what he wanted, and bade him go about his business.  The caliph fell a laughing; by which the vizier recognising him, “Commander of the true believers,” said he, “is it possible it can be you?  I knew you not; and I ask a thousand pardons for my rudeness.  You are so disguised that you may venture into the hall without any fear of being discovered by Scheich Ibrahim.”  “Stay you here with Mesrour,” said the caliph, “while I go and play my part.”

The caliph went up to the hall, and knocked at the door.  Noor ad Deen hearing him first, told Scheich Ibrahim of it, who asked who was there?  The caliph opened the door, and stepping a little way into the hall to shew himself, “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he, “I am the fisherman Kerim, who being informed of your design to treat some of your friends, have brought you two very fine fishes, fresh caught, to ask if you have any occasion for them.”

Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian were pleased to hear him name fish.  “Pray,” said the latter to Scheich Ibrahim, “let him come in, that we may look at them.”  Scheich Ibrahim, by this time, was incapable of asking this counterfeit fisherman how or which way he came thither, his whole thought being only to oblige the fair Persian.  With much ado he turned his head towards the door, being quite drunk, and, in a stammering tone, calling to the caliph, whom he took to be a fisherman, “Come hither, thou nightly thief,” said he, “and let us see what thou hast got.”

The caliph went forwards, and counterfeiting all the actions of a fisherman, presented the two fishes.  “These are very fine ones indeed,” said the fair Persian, “and if they were well dressed and seasoned, I should be glad to eat some of them.”  “The lady is in the right,” answered Scheich Ibrahim; “but what can you do with your fish, unless it were dressed?  Go, dress it thyself, and bring it to us; thou wilt find every thing necessary in my kitchen.”

The caliph went back to the grand vizier.  “Jaaffier,” said he, “I have been very well received; but they want the fish to be dressed.”  “I will take care to dress it myself,” said the grand vizier, “and they shall have it in a moment.”  “Nay,” replied the caliph, “so eager am I to accomplish my design, that I will take that trouble myself; for since I have personated the fisherman so well, surely I can play the cook for once; in my younger days, I dealt a little in cookery, and always came off with credit.”  So saying, he went directly towards Scheich Ibrahim’s lodgings, and the grand vizier and Mesrour followed him.

They all fell to work; and though Scheich Ibrahim’s kitchen was not very large, yet there was every thing in it that they wanted.  The fish was quickly cooked; and the caliph served it up, putting to every one’s place a lemon to squeeze into the sauce, if they thought proper.  They all ate very heartily, but especially Noor ad Deen and the fair Persian; and the caliph stood before them.

As soon as the repast was over, Noor ad Deen looking at the caliph, “Fisherman,” said he, “there never was better fish eaten; and you have done us the greatest favour.”  At the same time, putting his hand into his bosom, and pulling out a purse of thirty pieces of gold, the remainder of forty that Sangiar, the officer of the king of Bussorah, had given him just upon his departure, “Take it,” said he to him; “if I had any more, thou shouldst have it; had I known thee in my prosperity, I would have taken care to secure thee from want:  do not refuse the small present I make thee, but accept of it as kindly as if it were much greater.”

The caliph took the purse, thanked Noor ad Deen, and perceiving by the weight that it contained gold, “Sir,” said he to him, “I cannot enough thank you for your liberality, and I think myself very fortunate in having to do with a person of your generosity; but before I take my leave I have a favour to ask, which I beg you not to deny me.  Yonder is a lute, which makes me believe that the lady understands playing upon it; and if you can prevail with her to play but one tune, I shall go away perfectly satisfied; for a lute, sir, is an instrument I am particularly fond of.”

“Fair Persian,” said Noor ad Deen, immediately addressing himself to her, “I ask that favour of you, and I hope you will not refuse me.”  She took up the lute without more entreaties, and putting it presently in tune, played and sung with such an air, as charmed the very soul of the caliph.  Afterwards she played upon the lute without singing, but with so much strength and softness, as to transport him into an ecstasy.

When the fair Persian had given over playing, the caliph cried out, “What a voice! what a hand! what skill!  Was there ever finer singing, or better playing upon the lute?  Never was there any seen or heard like it.”

Noor ad Deen, who was accustomed to give all that belonged to him to persons who praised him, said, “Fisherman, I find thou hast some taste for music; since thou art so delighted with her performance, she is thine, I make thee a present of her.”  At the same time he rose up, and taking his robe which he had laid by, was going away, and leaving the caliph, whom he believed to be no other than a fisherman, in possession of the fair Persian.

The fair Persian was extremely surprised at Noor ad Deen’s liberality; she took hold of him, and looking tenderly at him, “Whither, sir,” said she, “are you going? sit down in your place, I entreat you, and hearken to what I am going to sing and play.”  He did as she desired him, and then the fair Persian, touching the lute, and looking upon him with tears in her eyes, sung some verses that she had made ex tempore, to reproach him with his indifference, and the easiness as well as cruelty with which he resigned her to Kerim.  She only hinted, without explaining herself any farther to a fisherman; for she, as well as Noor ad Deen, was ignorant of his being the caliph.  When she had done playing, she put the lute down by her, and clapped a handkerchief to her face, to hide the tears she could not repress.

Noor ad Deen made no answer to all these reproaches, but by his silence seemed to declare he did not repent of what he had done The caliph, surprised at what he had heard, said, “Sir, as far as I see, this beautiful, rare, and accomplished lady, of whom so generously you have made me a present, is your slave?” “It is very true, Kerim,” replied Noor ad Deen, “and thou wouldst be more surprised than thou art now, should I tell thee all the misfortunes that have happened to me upon her account.”  “Ah!  I beseech you, sir,” replied the caliph, still behaving like a fisherman, “oblige me so far as to let me hear part of your story.”

Noor ad Deen, who had already obliged him in several things of more consequence, was so complaisant as to relate the whole story to him.  He began with the vizier his father’s buying the fair Persian for the king of Bussorah, and omitted nothing of what he had done, or what had happened to him, from that time to their arrival at Bagdad, and to the very moment he was talking to him.

When Noor ad Deen had ended his story, “And whither are you going now?” asked the caliph.  “Where Heaven shall direct me,” answered Noor ad Deen.  “If you will believe me,” replied the caliph, “you shall go no farther, but, on the contrary, you must return to Bussorah:  I will write a short letter, which you shall give the king in my name:  you shall see upon the reading it, he will give you a very handsome reception, and nobody will dare to speak against you.”

“Kerim,” said Noor ad Deen, “what thou hast told me is very singular; I never heard that a poor fisherman, as thou art, had any correspondence with a king?” “Be not astonished at that,” replied the caliph:  “you must know, that we both studied together under the same masters, and were always the best friends in the world:  it is true, fortune has not been equally favourable to us; she has made him a king, and me a fisherman.  But this inequality has not lessened our friendship.  He has often expressed a readiness and desire to advance my fortune, but I always refused; and am better pleased with the satisfaction of knowing that he will never deny me whatever I ask for the service and advantage of my friends:  let me do it, and you shall see the success.”

Noor ad Deen consented to what the caliph had proposed; and there being every thing necessary for writing in the hall, the caliph wrote a letter to the king of Bussorah; at the top of which he placed this form, “In the name of the most merciful God,” to shew he would be absolutely obeyed.

“Haroon al Rusheed, son of Mhadi, sends this letter to Zinebi, his cousin.  As soon as Noor ad Deen, son to the late vizier Khacan, the bearer, has delivered you this letter, and you have read it, pull off the royal vestments, put them on his shoulders, and place him in thy seat without fail.  Farewell.”

The caliph folded up the letter, sealed it, and giving it to Noor ad Deen, without saying any thing of what was in it, “Go,” said he, “embark immediately in a vessel that is ready to go off (as there did constantly every day at the same hour); you may sleep when you are aboard.”

Noor ad Deen took the letter, and departed with the little money he had about him when Sangiar gave him his purse; and the fair Persian, distracted with grief at his departure, retired to one of the sofas, and wept bitterly.

Noor ad Deen was scarcely gone out of the hall, when Scheich Ibrahim, who had been silent during the whole transaction, looking steadfastly upon the caliph, whom he still took for the fisherman Kerim, “Hark’e,” said he, “Kerim, thou hast brought us two fishes, that are worth twenty pieces of copper at most, and thou hast got a purse and a slave:  but dost thou think to have all for thyself?  I here declare, that I will go halves with thee in the slave; and as for the purse, shew me what is in the inside:  if it is silver, thou shalt have one piece for thyself; but if it is gold, I will have it all, and give thee in exchange some pieces of copper which I have in my purse.”

The caliph, before his serving up the fish, had dispatched the grand vizier to his palace, with orders to get four slaves with a rich habit, and to wait on the other side of the pavilion till he gave a signal with his finger against the window.  The grand vizier performed his commission; and he, Mesrour, and the four slaves, waited at the appointed place, expecting the sign.

The caliph, still personating the fisherman, answered Scheich Ibrahim boldly, “I know not what there is in the purse; gold or silver, you shall freely go my halves:  but as to the slave, I will have her all to myself; and if you will not accept these conditions, you shall have nothing.”

Scheich Ibrahim, enraged to the last degree at this insolence, considering him only as a fisherman, snatched up one of the china dishes which were on the table, and flung it at the caliph’s head.  The caliph easily avoided the blow, being thrown by a person in liquor; but the dish striking against the wall, was dashed into a thousand pieces.  Scheich Ibrahim grew more enraged at having missed his aim, and catching up the candle that stood upon the table, rose from his seat, and went staggering down a pair of back-stairs to look for a cane.

The caliph took this opportunity, and striking his hands against the window, the grand vizier, Mesrour, and the four slaves were with him in an instant:  the slaves quickly pulled off the fisherman’s clothes, and put him on the habit they had brought.  They had not quite dressed the caliph, who had seated himself on the throne that was in the hall, but were busy about him when Scheich Ibrahim, spurred on by interest, came back with a cane in his hand, with which he designed to pay the pretended fisherman soundly; but instead of finding him, he saw his clothes in the middle of the hall, and the caliph on his throne, with the grand vizier and Mesrour on each side of him.  He stood awhile gazing on this unexpected sight, doubting whether he was awake or asleep.  The caliph fell a laughing at his astonishment; and calling to him, “Scheich Ibrahim,” said he, “What dost thou want? whom dost thou look after?”

Scheich Ibrahim, no longer doubting that it was the caliph, immediately threw himself at his feet, with his face and long beard to the ground.  “Commander of the true believers,” cried he, “your vile slave has offended you; but he implores your clemency, and asks a thousand pardons for his offence.”  As soon as the slaves had finished dressing him, he came down from his throne, and advancing towards him, “Rise,” said he, “I forgive thee.”

The caliph then addressed himself to the fair Persian, who had suspended her sorrow as soon as she understood that the garden and pavilion belonged to that prince, and not to Scheich Ibrahim, as he had all along made her believe, and that it was he himself disguised in the fisherman’s clothes.  “Fair Persian,” said he, “rise, and follow me:  by what you have lately seen, you ought to know who I am, and to believe that I am above taking any advantage of the present which Noor ad Deen, with a generosity not to be paralleled, has made me of your person.  I have sent him to Bussorah as king; and when I have given him the dispatches necessary for his establishment, you shall go thither and be queen.  In the mean time I am going to order an apartment for you in my palace, where you shall be treated according to your desert.”

This discourse encouraged the fair Persian, and comforted her very sensibly.  The joy for the advancement of Noor ad Deen, whom she passionately loved, to so high an honour, made her sufficient amends for her affliction.  The caliph kept his promise, and recommended her to the care of his empress Zobeide, whom he acquainted with the esteem he had entertained for Noor ad Deen.

Noor ad Deen’s return to Bussorah was more fortunate, and speedier by some days than he could have expected.  Upon his arrival, without visiting any of his friends or relations he went directly to the palace, where the king at that time was giving public audience.  With the letter held up in his hand, he pressed through the crowd, who presently made way for him to come forward and deliver it.  The king took and opened it, and his colour changed in reading it; he kissed it thrice, and was just about to obey the caliph’s orders, when he bethought himself of strewing it to the vizier Saony, Noor ad Deen’s irreconcilable enemy.

Saouy, who had discovered Noor ad Deen, and began to conjecture, with great uneasiness, what might be the design of his coming, was no less surprised than the king at the order contained in the letter; and being as much concerned in it, he instantly devised a method to evade it.  He pretended not to have read the letter quite through, and therefore desiring a second view of it, turned himself a little on one side as if he wanted a better light, and, without being perceived by any body, dexterously tore off from the top of it the form which shewed the caliph would be absolutely obeyed, and putting it into his mouth, swallowed it.

After this egregious piece of villainy, Saouy turned to the king, and giving him the letter, “Sir,” said he to him in a low voice, “what does your majesty intend to do?” “What the caliph has commanded me,” replied the king.  “Have a care, sir,” said the wicked vizier, “what you do.  It is true this is the caliph’s hand, but the form is not to it.”  The king had observed it, but in his confusion thought his eyes had deceived him when he saw it was gone.

“Sir,” continued the vizier, “we have no reason to doubt but that the caliph, on the complaints he has made against your majesty and myself, has granted him this letter to get rid of him, and not with any intention of having the order contained in it executed.  Besides, we must consider he has sent no express with a patent; and without that the order is of no force.  And since a king like your majesty was never deposed without that formality, any other man as well as Noor ad Deen might come with a forged letter:  let who will bring such a letter as this, it ought not to be put in execution.  Your majesty may depend upon it, that is never done; and I will take upon myself all the consequence of disobeying this order.”

King Zinebi, easily persuaded by this pernicious counsel, left Noor ad Deen entirely to the discretion of the vizier Saouy, who led him to his house in a very insulting manner; and after causing him to be bastinadoed till he was almost dead, he ordered him to a prison, where he commanded him to be put into the darkest and deepest dungeon, with a strict charge to the gaoler to give him nothing but bread and water.

When Noor ad Deen, half dead with the strokes, came to himself, and found what a dismal dungeon he was in, he bewailed his misfortunes in the most pathetic manner.  “Ah! fisherman,” cried he, “how hast thou cheated me; and how easy have I been in believing thee!  Could I, after the civility I shewed thee, expect such inhuman and barbarous usage?  However, may Heaven reward thee; for I cannot persuade myself that thy intention was so base; and I will with patience wait the end of my afflictions.”

The disconsolate Noor ad Deen remained six whole days in this miserable condition; and Saouy did not forget that he had confined him there; but being resolved to put him to a shameful death, and not daring to do it by his own authority, to accomplish his villainous design, loaded some of his slaves with rich presents, which he, at the head of them, went and presented to the king.  “Behold, sire,” said he, with the blackest malice, “what the new king has sent you upon his accession to the crown, and begs your majesty to accept.”

The king taking the matter just as Saouy intended, “What!” replied he, “is that wretch still living?  I thought you had put him to death already.”  “Sire, I have no power,” answered the vizier, “to take any person’s life; that only belongs to your majesty.”  “Go,” said the king, “behead him instantly; I give you full authority.”  “Sire,” replied the vizier Saouy, “I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for the justice you do me; but since Noor ad Deen has publicly affronted me, I humbly beg the favour, that his execution may be performed before the palace; and that the criers may publish it in every quarter of the city, so that every body may be satisfied he has made a sufficient reparation for the affront.”  The king granted his request; and the criers in performing their office diffused universal sorrow through the whole city.  The memory of his father’s virtues being yet fresh among them, no one could hear, without horror and indignation, that the son was going to suffer an ignominious death.

Saouy went in person to the prison, accompanied by twenty slaves, ministers of his cruelty, who took Noor ad Deen out of the dungeon, and put him upon a shabby horse without a saddle.  When Noor ad Deen saw himself in the hands of his enemy, “Thou triumphest now,” said he, “and abusest thy power; but I trust in the truth of what is written in our scripture, ’You judge unjustly, and in a little time you shall be judged yourself.’” The vizier Saouy triumphed in his heart.  “What! insolent,” said he, “darest thou insult me yet? but I care not what may happen to me, so I have the pleasure of seeing thee lose thy head in the public view of all Bussorah.  Thou oughtest also to remember what another of our books says, ’What signifies if one dies the next day after the death of his enemy?’”

The vizier, implacable in his hatred and enmity, surrounded by his slaves in arms, conducted Noor ad Deen towards the palace.  The people were ready to fall upon him as he passed; and if any one had set the example, would certainly have stoned him to death.  When he had brought him to the place of suffering, which was to be in sight of the king’s apartment, he left him in the executioner’s hands, and went straight to the king, who was in his closet, ready to glut his eyes with the bloody spectacle he had prepared.

The king’s guard and the vizier’s slaves, who made a circle round Noor ad Deen, had much trouble to withstand the people, who made all possible efforts to break through, and carry him off by force.  The executioner coming up to him, said, “I hope you will forgive me, I am but a slave, and cannot help doing my duty.  If you have no occasion for any thing more, I beseech you to prepare yourself; for the king is just going to give me orders to strike the blow.”

The unfortunate Noor ad Deen, at that moment, looking round upon the people, “Will no charitable body,” cried he, “bring me a little water to quench my thirst?” Which immediately they did, and handed it up to him upon the scaffold.  The vizier Saouy perceiving this delay, called out to the executioner from the king’s closet window, where he had planted himself, “Strike, what dost thou stay for?” At these inhuman words the whole place echoed with loud imprecations against him; and the king, jealous of his authority, made it appear, by enjoining him to stop awhile, that he was angry at his presumption.  But there was another reason; for the king that very moment casting his eye towards a street that faced him, saw a troop of horsemen advancing full speed towards the palace.  “Vizier,” said the king immediately, “look yonder; what is the meaning of those horsemen?” Saouy, who knew not who they might be, earnestly pressed the king to give the executioner the sign.  “No,” replied the king; “I will first know who those horsemen are.”  It was the vizier Jaaffier, with his train, who came in person from Bagdad by the caliph’s order.

To understand the occasion of this minister’s coming to Bussorah, we must observe, that after Noor ad Deen’s departure with the letter, the caliph the next day, nor for several days after, thought not of sending him the patent which he mentioned to the fair Persian.  He happened one day to be in the inner palace, which was that of the women, and passing by her apartment, heard the sound of a fine voice:  he listened to it; and he had no sooner heard the words of one complaining for the absence of somebody, than he asked the officer of the eunuchs who attended him who the woman was that lived in that apartment?  The officer told him it was the young stranger’s slave whom he had sent to Bussorah to be king in the room of Mahummud Zinebi.

“Ah! poor Noor ad Deen,” cried the caliph, “I had forgotten thee; but hasten,” said he to the officer, “and bid Jaaffier come to me.”  The vizier was with him in an instant.  As soon as he came, “Jaaffier,” said he, “I have hitherto neglected sending the patent which was to confirm Noor ad Deen king of Bussorah; but we have no time now to draw up one; therefore immediately take post-horses, and with some of your servants, make what haste you can to that city.  If Noor ad Deen is no longer alive, but put to death by them, order the vizier Saouy to be impaled; but if he is living, bring him to me with the king and the vizier.”

The grand vizier stayed no longer than just to get on horseback; and being attended by a great train of officers belonging to his household departed for Bussorah, where he arrived in the manner and at the time already mentioned.  As soon as he came to the palace-yard, the people cleared the way for him, crying out, “A pardon for Noor ad Deen!” and with his whole train he rode into the palace, even to the very stairs, where he alighted.

The king of Bussorah, knowing him to be the caliph’s chief minister, went to meet him, and received him at the entrance of his apartment.  The first question the vizier asked was, If Noor ad Deen was living? and if he was, he desired that he might be sent for.  The king made answer, he was alive, and gave orders to have him brought in.  Accordingly he soon made his appearance as he was, bound with cords.  The grand vizier Jaaffier caused him to be unbound, and setting him at liberty, ordered the vizier Saouy to be seized, and bound him with the same cords.

The grand vizier remained but one night at Bussorah; and, according to the order he had received, carried Saouy, the king of Bussorah, and Noor ad Deen, along with him.  Upon his arrival at Bagdad, he presented them to the caliph:  and after he had given him an account of his journey, and particularly the miserable condition in which he found Noor ad Deen, and his ill-usage by the advice and malice of Saony, the caliph desired Noor ad Deen to behead the vizier himself.  “Commander of the true believers,” said the generous youth, “notwithstanding the injury this wicked man has done me, and the mischief he endeavoured to do my deceased father, I should think myself the basest of mankind if I stained my hands with his blood.”  The caliph was pleased with his generosity, and ordered justice to be done by the executioner.

The caliph would fain have sent Noor ad Deen to Bussorah as king:  but he humbly begged to be excused from accepting the offer.  “Commander of the true believers,” said Noor ad Deen, “the city of Bussorah, after the misfortunes that have happened to me there, will be so much my aversion, that I beseech your majesty to give me leave to keep the oath which I have made, of never returning thither again; and I shall think it my greatest glory to serve near your royal person, if you are pleased to allow me the honour.”  The caliph consented; and placing him among the number of those courtiers who were his greatest favourites, restored the fair Persian to him again.  To all these favours he added a plentiful fortune; and he and the fair Persian lived together thenceforth, with all the happiness this world could afford.

As for the king of Bussorah, the caliph contented himself with hinting how careful he ought to be in the choice of his viziers, and sent him back to his kingdom.

End of Volume 2.

Text scanned by JC Byers and proofread by JC Byers, Sally
Gellert, Renate Preuss, and Christine Sturrock.

The “Aldine” Edition of

The Arabian Nights Entertainments

Illustrated by S. L. Wood

From the text of Dr. Jonathan Scott

In Four Volumes

Volume 3

London
Pickering and Chatto
1890

Contents of Volume III.

The Story of Beder, Prince of Persia, and Jehaunara, Prince of
Samandal, or Summunder
The History of Prince Zeyn Alasnam and the Sultan of the Genii
The History of Codadad, and His Brothers
The History of the Princess of Deryabar
The Story of Abu Hassan, or the Sleeper Awakened
The Story of Alla Ad Deen; Or, the Wonderful Lamp
Adventure of the Caliph Haroon Al Rusheed
The Story of Baba Abdoollah
The Story of Syed Naomaun
The Story of Khaujeh Hassan Al Hubbaul
The Story of Ali Aba and the Forty Robbers Destroyed by a Slave
The Story of Ali Khujeh, a Merchant of Bagdad

The story of Beder, prince of Persia, and
Jehaun-ara, princess of Samandal, or
Summunder.

Persia was an empire of such vast extent, that its ancient monarchs, not without reason, assumed the haughty title of King of kings.  For not to mention those subdued by their arms, there were kingdoms and provinces whose kings were not only tributary, but also in as great subjection as governors in other nations are to the monarchs.

One of these kings, who in the beginning of his reign had signalized himself by many glorious and successful conquests, enjoyed so profound a peace and tranquillity, as rendered him the happiest of princes.  The only point in which he thought himself unfortunate was, that amongst all his wives, not one had brought him a son; and being now far advanced in years, he was desirous of an heir.  He had above a hundred ladies, all lodged in separate apartments, with women-slaves to wait upon and eunuchs to guard them; yet, notwithstanding all his endeavours to please their taste, and anticipate their wishes, there was not one that answered his expectation.  He had women frequently brought him from the most remote countries; and if they pleased him, he not only gave the merchants their full price, but loaded them with honours and benedictions, in hopes that at last he might be so happy as to meet with one by whom he might have a son.  There was scarcely an act of charity but he performed, to prevail with heaven.  He gave immense sums to the poor, besides large donations to the religious; building for their use many noble colleges richly endowed, in hopes of obtaining by their prayers what he so earnestly desired.

One day, according to the custom of his royal predecessors, during their residence in their capital, he held an assembly of his courtiers, at which all the ambassadors and strangers of quality about the court were present; and where they not only entertained one another with news and politics, but also by conversing on the sciences, history, poetry, literature, and whatever else was capable of diverting the mind.  On that day a eunuch came to acquaint him with the arrival of a certain merchant from a distant country, who, having brought a slave with him, desired leave to shew her to his majesty.  “Give him admittance instantly,” said the king, “and after the assembly is over I will talk with him.”  The merchant was introduced, and seated in a convenient place, from whence he might easily have a full view of the king, and hear him talk familiarly to those that stood near his person.  The king observed this rule to all strangers, in order that by degrees they might grow acquainted with him; so that, when they saw with what freedom and civility he addressed himself to all, they might be encouraged to talk to him in the same manner, without being abashed at the pomp and splendour of his appearance, which was enough to deprive those of their power of speech who were not used to it.  He treated the ambassadors also after the same manner.  He ate with them, and during the repast asked them several questions concerning their health, their journey, and the peculiarities of their country.  After they had been thus encouraged, he gave them audience.

When the assembly was over, and all the company had retired, the merchant, who was the only person left, fell prostrate before the king’s throne, with his face to the earth, wishing his majesty an accomplishment of all his desires As soon as he arose, the king asked him if the report of his having brought a slave for him was true, and whether she were handsome.

“Sire,” replied the merchant, “I doubt not but your majesty has many very beautiful women, since you search every corner of the earth for them; but I may boldly affirm, without overvaluing my merchandise, that you never yet saw a woman that could stand in competition with her for shape and beauty, agreeable qualifications, and all the perfections that she is mistress of.”  “Where is she?” demanded the king; “bring her to me instantly.”  “Sire,” replied the merchant, “I have delivered her into the hands of one of your chief eunuchs; and your majesty may send for her at your pleasure.”

The fair slave was immediately brought in; and no sooner had the king cast his eyes on her, but he was charmed with her beautiful and easy shape.  He went directly into a closet, and was followed by the merchant and a few eunuchs.  The fair slave wore, over her face, a red satin veil striped with gold; and when the merchant had taken it off, the king of Persia beheld a female that surpassed in beauty, not only his present ladies, but all that he had ever had before.  He immediately fell passionately in love with her, and desired the merchant to name his price.

“Sire,” said he, “I gave a thousand pieces of gold to the person of whom I bought her; and in my three years’ journey to your court, I reckon I have spent as much more:  but I shall forbear setting any price to so great a monarch; and therefore, if your majesty likes her, I humbly beg you would accept of her as a present.”  “I am highly obliged to you,” replied the king; “but it is never my custom to treat merchants, who come hither for my pleasure, in so ungenerous a manner; I am going to order thee ten thousand pieces of gold; will that be sufficient?” “Sire,” answered the merchant, “I should have esteemed myself happy in your majesty’s acceptance of her; yet I dare not refuse so generous an offer.  I will not fail to publish your liberality in my own country, and in every place through which I may pass.”  The money was paid; and before he departed, the king made him put on a rich suit of cloth of gold.

The king caused the fair slave to be lodged in the apartment next his own, and gave particular orders to the matrons, and the female slaves appointed to attend her, that after bathing they should dress her in the richest habit they could find, and carry her the finest pearl necklaces, the brightest diamonds, and other richest precious stones, that she might choose those she liked best.

The officious matrons, whose only care was to please the king, were astonished at her beauty; and being good judges, they told his majesty, that if he would allow them but three days, they would engage to make her so much handsomer than she was at present, that he would scarcely know her again.  The king could hardly prevail with himself to delay so long the pleasure of seeing her, but at last he consented.

The king of Persia’s capital was situated in an island; and his palace, which was very magnificent, was built on the shore:  his apartment looked on the water; the fair slave’s, which was near it, had also the same prospect, and was the more agreeable, on account of the sea’s beating almost against the walls.

At the three days’ end, the fair slave, magnificently dressed, was alone in her chamber, sitting on a sofa, and leaning against one of the windows that faced the sea, when the king, being informed that he might visit her, came in.  The slave, hearing somebody walk in the room with an air quite different from that of the female slaves, who had hitherto attended her, immediately turned her head about to see who it was.  She knew him to be the king, but without discovering the least surprise, or so much as rising from her seat to salute or receive him, as if he had been the most indifferent person in the world, she put herself in the same posture again.

The king of Persia was extremely surprised to see a slave of so beauteous a form so ignorant of the world.  He attributed this to the narrowness of her education, and the little care that had been taken to instruct her in the first rules of civility.  He went to her at the window, where, notwithstanding the coldness and indifference with which she had received him, she suffered herself to be admired, caressed, and embraced, as much as he pleased.

In the midst of these amorous embraces and tender endearments, the king paused awhile, to gaze upon, or rather to devour her with his eyes.  “My lovely fair one! my charmer!” exclaimed he; “whence came you, and where do those happy parents live who brought into the world so surprising a masterpiece of nature?  How do I love thee, and shall always continue to do.  Never did I feel for a woman what I now feel for you; and though I have seen, and every day behold a vast number of beauties, yet never did my eyes contemplate so many charms in one person—charms which have so transported me, that I shall entirely devote myself to you.  My dearest life,” continued he, “you neither answer, nor by any visible token give me the least reason to believe that you are sensible of the demonstrations I have given you of the ardour of my passion; neither will you turn your eyes on me, to afford mine the pleasure of meeting them, and to convince you that it is impossible to love in a higher degree than I do you.  Why will you still preserve this obstinate silence, which chills me, and whence proceeds the seriousness, or rather sorrow, that torments me to the soul?  Do you mourn for your country, your friends or your relations?  Alas!  Is not the king of Persia, who loves and adores you, capable of comforting you, and making you amends for every loss?”

Notwithstanding all the protestations of love the king of Persia made the fair slave, and all he could say to induce her to speak to him, she remained unaltered; and keeping her eyes still fixed upon the ground, would neither look at him, nor utter a word.

The king of Persia, delighted with the purchase he had made of a slave that pleased him so well, pressed her no farther, in hopes that by treating her kindly he might prevail upon her to change her behaviour.  He clapped his hands; and the women who waited in an outward room entered:  he commanded them to bring in supper.  When it was arranged, “My love,” said he to the slave, “come hither and sup with me.”  She rose from her seat; and being seated opposite the king, his majesty helped her, before he began eating himself; and did so of every dish during supper.  The slave ate as well as the king, but still with downcast eyes, and without speaking a word; though he often asked her how she liked the entertainment, and whether it was dressed according to her taste.

The king, willing to change the conversation, asked her what her name was, how she liked the clothes and the jewels she had on, what she thought of her apartment and the rich furniture, and whether the prospect of the sea was not very agreeable?  But to all these questions she made no reply; so that the king was at a loss what to think of her silence.  He imagined at first, that she might perhaps be dumb:  “But then,” said he to himself, “can it be possible that heaven should forge a creature so beautiful, so perfect, and so accomplished, and at the same time with so great an imperfection?  Were it however so, I could not love her with less passion than I do.”  When the king of Persia rose, he washed his hands on one side, while the fair slave washed hers on the other.  He took that opportunity to ask the woman who held the basin and napkin, if ever they had heard her speak.  One of them replied, “Sire, we have neither seen her open her lips, nor heard her speak any more than your majesty has; we have rendered her our services in the bath; we have dressed her head, put on her clothes, and waited upon her in her chamber; but she has never opened her lips, so much as to say, that is well, or I like this.  We have often asked her, “Madam, do you want anything?  Is there anything you wish for?  Do but ask, and command us,” but we have never been able to draw a word from her.  We cannot tell whether her sorrow proceeds from pride, sorrow, stupidity, or dumbness.”

The king was more astonished at hearing this than he had been before:  however, believing the slave might have some cause of sorrow, he was willing to endeavour to divert and amuse her.  Accordingly he appointed a very splendid assembly, which all the ladies of the court attended; and those who were skilful in playing upon musical instruments performed their parts, while others sung or danced, or did both together:  they played at all sorts of games, which much diverted the king.  The fair slave was the only person who took no pleasure in these attempts to amuse her; she never moved from her place, but remained with her eyes fixed on the ground with so much indifference, that all the ladies were not less surprised than the king.  After the assembly was over, every one retired to her apartment; and the king was left alone with the fair slave.

The next morning the king of Persia rose more pleased than he had been with all the women he had seen before, and more enamoured with the fair slave than ever.  Indeed, he soon made it appear, by resolving henceforth to attach himself to her alone; and performed his resolution.  On the same day he dismissed all his other women, giving every one of them their jewels, and other valuables, besides a considerable fortune, with free leave to marry whom they thought fit; and only kept the matrons and a few other elderly women to wait upon the fair slave.  However, for a whole year together, she never afforded him the pleasure of one single word; yet the king continued his assiduities to please her, and to give her the most signal proofs of sincere love.

After the expiration of the year, the king sitting one day by his mistress, protested to her that his love, instead of being diminished, grew every day more violent.  “My queen,” said he, “I cannot divine what your thoughts are; but nothing is more true, and I swear to you, that having the happiness of possessing you, there remains nothing for me to desire.  I esteem my kingdom, great as it is, less than an atom, when I have the pleasure of beholding you, and of telling you a thousand times that I adore you.  I desire not that my words alone should oblige you to believe me.  Surely you can no longer doubt of my devotion to you after the sacrifice which I have made to your beauty of so many women, whom I before kept in my palace.  You may remember it is about a year since I sent them all away; and I as little repent of it now, as I did the moment of their departure; and I never shall repent.  Nothing would be wanting to complete my happiness and crown my joy, would you but speak one single word to me, by which I might be assured that you thought yourself at all obliged.  But how can you speak to me if you are dumb? and alas!  I feel but too apprehensive that this is the case.  How can I doubt, since you still torment me with silence, after having for a whole year in vain supplicated you to speak?  If it is possible for me to obtain of you that consolation, may heaven at least grant me the blessing of a son by you, to succeed me.  I every day find myself growing old, and I begin already to want one to assist me in bearing the weight of my crown.  Still I cannot conceal the desire I have of hearing you speak; for something within me tells me you are not dumb:  and I beseech, I conjure you, dear madam, to break through this long silence, and speak but one word to me; after that I care not how soon I die.”

At this discourse the fair slave, who, according to her usual custom, had hearkened to the king with downcast eyes, and had given him cause to believe not only that she was dumb, but that she had never laughed, began to smile.  The king of Persia perceived it with a surprise that made him break forth into an exclamation of joy; and no longer doubting but that she was going to speak, he waited for that happy moment with an eagerness and attention that cannot easily be expressed.

At last the fair slave thus addressed herself to the king:  “Sire, I have so many things to say to your majesty, that, having once broken silence, I know not where to begin.  However, in the first place, I think myself bound to thank you for all the favours and honours you have been pleased to confer upon me, and to implore heaven to bless and prosper you, to prevent the wicked designs of your enemies, and not suffer you to die after hearing me speak, but to grant you a long life.  After this, sire, I cannot give you greater satisfaction than by acquainting you that I am with child; and I wish, as you do, it may be a son.  Had it never been my fortune to be pregnant, I was resolved (I beg your majesty to pardon the sincerity of my intention) never to have loved you, and to have kept an eternal silence; but now I love you as I ought to do.”

The king of Persia, ravished to hear the fair slave not only speak, but tell him tidings in which he was so nearly concerned, embraced her tenderly.  “Staining light of my eyes,” said he, “it is impossible for me to receive greater delight than you have now given me:  you have spoken to me, and you have declared your being with child, which I did not expect.  After these two occasions of joy I am transported out of myself.”

The king of Persia, in the transport of his feelings, said no more to the fair slave.  He left her, but in such a manner as made her perceive his intention was speedily to return:  and being willing that the occasion of his joys should be made public, he declared it to his officers, and sent for the grand vizier.  As soon as he came, he ordered him to distribute a thousand pieces of gold among the holy men of his religion, who made vows of poverty; as also among the hospitals and the poor, by way of returning thanks to heaven:  and his will was obeyed by the direction of that minister.

After the king of Persia had given this order, he returned to the fair slave again.  “Madam,” said he, “pardon me for leaving you so abruptly, since you have been the occasion of it; but I hope you will indulge me with some conversation, since I am desirous to know of you several things of much greater consequence.  Tell me, my dearest soul, what were the powerful reasons that induced you to persist in that obstinate silence for a whole year together, though every day you saw me, heard me talk to you, ate and drank with me, and every night slept with me?  I shall pass by your not speaking; but how you could carry yourself so as that I could never discover whether you were sensible of what I said to you or no, I confess, surpasses my understanding; and I cannot yet comprehend how you could contain yourself so long; therefore I must conclude the occasion of it to be very extraordinary.”

“To satisfy the king of Persia’s curiosity,” replied the lady, “think whether or no to be a slave, far from my own country, without any hopes of ever seeing it again, to have a heart torn with grief, at being separated forever from my mother, my brother, my friends, and my acquaintance, are not these sufficient reasons for the silence your majesty has thought so strange and unaccountable?”

“The love of our native country is as natural to us as that of our parents; and the loss of liberty is insupportable to everyone who is not wholly destitute of common sense, and knows how to set a value on it.  The body indeed may be enslaved, and under the subjection of a master, who has the power and authority in his hands; the will can never be conquered, but remains free and unconfined, depending on itself alone, as your majesty has found in my case; and it is a wonder that I have not followed the example of many unfortunate wretches, whom the loss of liberty has reduced to the melancholy resolution of procuring their own deaths in a thousand ways, by a liberty which cannot be taken from them.”

“Madam,” replied the king, “I am convinced of the truth of what you say; but till this moment I was of opinion, that a person beautiful, of good understanding, like yourself, whom her evil destiny had condemned to be a slave, ought to think herself very happy in meeting with a king for her master.”

“Sire,” replied the lady, “whatever the slave be, as I have already observed to your majesty, there is no king on earth can tyrannize over her will.  When indeed you speak of a slave mistress of charms sufficient to captivate a monarch, and induce him to love her; if she be of a rank infinitely below him, I am of your opinion, she ought to think herself happy in her misfortunes:  still what happiness can it be, when she considers herself only as a slave, torn from a parent’s arms, and perhaps from those of a lover, her passion for whom death only can extinguish; but when this very slave is in nothing inferior to the king who has purchased her, your majesty shall judge yourself of the rigour of her destiny, her misery and her sorrow, and to what desperate attempts the anguish of despair may drive her.”

The king of Persia, astonished at this discourse, “Madam,” said he, “can it be possible that you are of royal blood, as by your words you seem to intimate?  Explain the whole secret to me, I beseech you, and no longer augment my impatience.  Let me instantly know who are the happy parents of so great a prodigy of beauty; who are your brothers, your sisters, and your relations; but, above all, tell me your name?”

“Sire,” said the fair slave, “my name is Gulnare of the Sea:  and my father, who is dead, was one of the most potent monarchs of the ocean.  When he died, he left his kingdom to a brother of mine, named Saleh, and to the queen, my mother, who is also a princess, the daughter of another puissant monarch of the sea.  We enjoyed profound peace and tranquillity through the whole kingdom, till a neighbouring prince, envious of our happiness, invaded our dominions with a mighty army; and penetrating as far as our capital, made himself master of it; and we had but just time to save ourselves in an impenetrable and inaccessible place, with a few trusty officers, who did not forsake us in our distress.

“In this retreat my brother was not negligent in contriving means to drive the unjust invaders from our dominions.  One day taking me into his closet, ‘Sister,’ said he, ’the events of the smallest undertakings are always dubious.  For my own part, I may fail in the attempt I design to make to recover my kingdom; and I shall be less concerned for my own disgrace than what may possibly happen to you.  To secure you from all accident, I would fain see you married.  But in the present miserable condition of our affairs, I see no probability of matching you to any of the princes of the sea; and therefore I should be glad if you would concur in my opinion, and think of marrying one of the princes of the earth.  I am ready to contribute all that lies in my power towards accomplishing this; and am certain there is not one of them, however powerful, but, considering your beauty, would be proud of sharing his crown with you.’

“At this discourse of my brother’s, I fell into a violent passion.  ‘Brother,’ said I, ’you know that I am descended, as well as you, from the kings and queens of the sea, without any mixture of alliance with those of the earth; therefore I do not design to marry below myself, and I have taken an oath to that effect.  The condition to which we are reduced shall never oblige me to alter my resolution; and if you perish in the execution of your design, I am prepared to fall with you, rather than follow the advice I so little expected from you.’

“My brother, who was still earnest for my marriage, however improper for me, endeavoured to make me believe that there were kings of the earth who were no ways inferior to those of the sea.  This put me into a more violent passion, which occasioned him to say several bitter reflecting things, that nettled me to the quick.  He left me, as much dissatisfied with myself as he could possibly be with me; and in this peevish mood I gave a spring from the bottom of the sea up to the Island of the Moon.

“Notwithstanding the violent discontent that made me cast myself upon that island, I lived content in retirement.  But in spite of all my precautions, a person of distinction, attended by his servants, surprised me sleeping, and carried me to his own house.  He expressed much love to me, and omitted nothing which he thought might induce me to return his passion.  When he saw that fair means would not prevail upon me, he attempted to use force:  but I soon made him repent of his insolence.  He resolved to sell me, which he did to the merchant who brought me hither, and sold me to your majesty.  He was a prudent, courteous, humane man; and during the whole of the long journey, never gave me the least reason to complain.

“As for your majesty,” continued the princess Gulnare, “if you had not shown me all the respect you have hitherto done (for which I am extremely obliged to your goodness), and given me such undeniable marks of your affection, that I can no longer doubt of it; if you had not immediately sent away your women; I hesitate not to tell you, that I should not have remained with you.  I would have thrown myself into the sea out of this window, where you accosted me when you first came into this apartment; and have gone in search of my mother, my brother, and the rest of my relations.  I should have persisted in that design, and would have put it in execution, if after a certain time I had found myself deceived in the hopes of being with child; but in the condition I am in, all I could say to my mother or my brother would never convince them that I have been a slave to a king like your majesty.  They would never believe it, but would for ever upbraid me with the crime I have voluntarily committed against my honour.  However, sire, be it a prince or princess that I may bring into the world, it will be a pledge to engage me never to be parted from your majesty; and therefore I hope you will no longer regard me as a slave, but as a princess worthy your alliance.”

In this manner the Princess Gulnare discovered herself to the king of Persia, and finished her story.  “My charming, my adorable princess,” cried he, “what wonders have I heard! and what ample matter for my curiosity, to ask a thousand questions concerning those strange and unheard of things which you have related!  But first, I ought to thank you for your goodness and patience in making trial of the truth and constancy of my passion.  I thought it impossible for me to love you more than I did; but since I know you to be a princess, I love you a thousand times more.  Princess! did I say, madam? you are no longer so; but you are my queen, the queen of Persia; and by that title you shall soon be proclaimed throughout the whole kingdom.  To-morrow the ceremony shall be performed in my capital with a pomp and magnificence never yet beheld; which will plainly shew that you are my queen and my lawful wife.  This should long ago have been done, had you sooner convinced me of my error:  for from the first moment of my seeing you, I have been of the same opinion as now, to love you always, and never to place my affections on any other.

“But that I may satisfy myself, and pay you all the respect that is your due, I beseech you, madam, to inform me more particularly of the kingdom and people of the sea, who are altogether unknown to me.  I have heard much talk, indeed, of the inhabitants of the sea, but I always looked upon such accounts merely as tales or fables; by what you have told me, I am convinced there is nothing more true; and I have a proof of it in your own person, who are one of them, and are pleased to condescend to be my wife; which is an honour no other inhabitant on the earth can boast.  There is one point however which yet perplexes me; therefore I must beg the favour of you to explain it; that is, I cannot comprehend how it is possible for you to live or move in water without being drowned.  There are few amongst us who have the art of staying under water; and they would surely perish, if, after a certain time, according to their activity and strength, they did not come up again.”

“Sire,” replied the Queen Gulnare, “I shall with pleasure satisfy the king of Persia.  We can walk at the bottom of the sea with as much ease as you can upon land; and we can breathe in the water as you do in the air; so that instead of suffocating us, as it does you, it absolutely contributes to the preservation of our lives.  What is yet more remarkable is, that it never wets our clothes; so that when we wish to visit the earth, we have no occasion to dry them.  Our language is the same with that of the writing engraved upon the seal of the great prophet Solomon the son of David.

“I must not forget to inform you further, that the water does not in the least hinder us from seeing:  for we can open our eyes without any inconvenience:  and as we have quick, piercing sight, we can discern any objects as clearly in the deepest part of the sea as upon land.  We have also there a succession of day and night; the moon affords us her light; and even the planets and the stars appear visible to us.  I have already spoken of our kingdoms; but as the sea is much more spacious than the earth, so there are a great number of them, and of great extent.  They are divided into provinces; and in each province are several great cities well peopled.  In short there is an infinite number of nations differing in manners and customs, as they do on the earth.

“The palaces of the kings and princes are sumptuous and magnificent.  Some of them are constructed of marble of various colours; others of rock-crystal, with which the sea abounds, mother of pearl, coral, and of other materials more valuable; gold, silver, and all sorts of precious stones are more plentiful there than on earth.  I say nothing of the pearls, since the largest that ever were seen upon earth would not be valued amongst us; and none but the very lowest rank of citizens would wear them.

“As we have a marvellous and incredible agility to transport ourselves whither we please in the twinkling of an eye, we have no occasion for carriages or horses; not but the king has his stables and his stud of sea horses; but they are seldom used, except upon public feasts or rejoicing days.  Some, after they have trained them, take delight in riding and shewing their skill and dexterity in races; others put them to chariots of mother of pearl, adorned with an infinite number of shells of all sorts, of the liveliest colours.  These chariots are open; and in the middle is a throne on which the king sits, and shows himself to the public view of his subjects.  The horses are trained to draw by themselves; so that there is no occasion for a charioteer to guide them.  I pass over a thousand other curious particulars relating to these submarine countries, which would be very entertaining to your majesty; but you must permit me to defer them to a future opportunity, to speak of something of much greater consequence, which is, that the method of delivering, and the way of managing the women of the sea in their lying-in, is very different from those of the women of the earth; and I am afraid to trust myself in the hands of the midwives of this country:  therefore, since my safe delivery equally concerns us both, with your majesty’s permission, I think it proper, for greater security, to send for my mother and my cousins, to assist at my labour; at the same time to desire the king my brother’s company, to whom I have a great desire to be reconciled.  They will be glad to see me again, when they understand I am wife to the mighty king of Persia.  I beseech your majesty to give me leave to send for them.  I am sure they will be happy to pay their respects to you; and I venture to say you will be pleased to see them.”

“Madam,” replied the king of Persia, “you are mistress; do whatever you please; I will endeavour to receive them with all the honours they deserve.  But I would fain know how you will acquaint them with what you desire, and when they will arrive, that I may give orders to make preparation for their reception, and go myself in person to meet them.”  “Sire,” replied the Queen Gulnare, “there is no need of these ceremonies; they will be here in a moment; and if your majesty will but step into the closet, and look through the lattice, you shall see the manner of their arrival.”

As soon as the king of Persia was in the closet, Queen Gulnare ordered one of her women to bring her a fire-pan with a little fire.  After that she bade her retire, and shut the door.  When she was alone, she took a piece of aloes-wood out of a box, and put it into the fire-pan.  As soon as she saw the smoke rise, she repeated some words unknown to the king of Persia, who observed with great attention all that she did.  She had no sooner ended, than the sea began to be disturbed.  The closet the king was in was so contrived, that looking through the lattice on the same side with the windows that faced the sea, he could plainly perceive it.

At length the sea opened at some distance; and presently there arose out of it a tall, handsome young man, with whiskers of a sea-green colour; a little behind him, a lady, advanced in years, but of a majestic air, attended by five young ladies, nothing inferior in beauty to the Queen Gulnare.

Queen Gulnare immediately came to one of the windows, and saw the king her brother, the queen her mother, and the rest of her relations, who at the same time perceived her also.  The company advanced, supported, as it were, upon the waves.  When they came to the edge, they nimbly, one after another, sprung in at the window.  King Saleh, the queen her mother, and the rest of her relations, embraced her tenderly on their first entrance, with tears in their eyes.

After Queen Gulnare had received them with all imaginable honour, and made them sit down upon a sofa, the queen her mother addressed herself to her:  “Daughter,” said she, “I am overjoyed to see you again after so long an absence; and I am confident that your brother and your relations are no less so.  Your leaving us without acquainting any one with your intention, involved us in inexpressible concern; and it is impossible to tell you how many tears we have shed on your account.  We know of no reason that could induce you to take such a resolution, but what your brother related to us respecting the conversation that passed between him and you.  The advice he gave you seemed to him at that time advantageous for settling you in the world, and suitable to the then posture of our affairs.  If you had not approved of his proposal, you ought not to have been so much alarmed; and give me leave to tell you, you took his advice in a different light from what you ought to have done.  But no more of this; it serves only to renew the occasion of our sorrow and complaint, which we and you ought to bury forever in oblivion; give us now an account of all that has happened to you since we saw you last, and of your present situation, but especially let us know if you are married.”

Gulnare immediately threw herself at her mother’s feet, and kissing her hand, “Madam,” said she, “I own I have been guilty of a fault, and I am indebted to your goodness for the pardon which you are pleased to grant me.  What I am going to say, in obedience to your commands, will soon convince you, that it is often in vain for us to have an aversion for certain measures; I have myself experienced that the only thing I had an abhorrence to, is that to which my destiny has led me.”  She then related the whole of what had befallen her since she quitted the sea for the earth.  As soon as she had concluded, and acquainted them with her having been sold to the king of Persia, in whose palace she was at present; “Sister,” said the king her brother, “you have been wrong to suffer so many indignities, but you can properly blame nobody but yourself; you have it in your power now to free yourself, and I cannot but admire your patience, that you could endure so long a slavery.  Rise, and return with us into my kingdom, which I have reconquered from the proud usurper who had made himself master of it.”

The king of Persia, who heard these words from the closet where he stood, was in the utmost alarm; “Ah!” said he to himself, “I am ruined, and if my queen, my Gulnare, hearken to this advice, and leave me, I shall surely die, for it is impossible for me to live without her.”  Queen Gulnare soon put him out of his fears.

“Brother,” said she smiling, “what I have just heard gives me a greater proof than ever of the sincerity of your affection; I could not brook your proposing to me a match with a prince of the earth:  now I can scarcely forbear being angry with you for advising me to break the engagement I have made with the most puissant and most renowned monarch in the world.  I do not speak here of an engagement between a slave and her master; it would be easy to return the ten thousand pieces of gold he gave for me; but I speak now of a contract between a wife and a husband—and a wife who has not the least reason to complain.  He is a religious, wise, and temperate king, and has given me the most essential demonstrations of his love.  What can be a greater proof of the sincerity of his passion, than sending away all his women (of which he had a great number) immediately upon my arrival, and confining himself to me alone?  I am now his wife, and he has lately declared me queen of Persia, to share with him in his councils; besides, I am pregnant, and if heaven permit me to give him a son, that will be another motive to engage my affections to him the more.”

“So that, brother,” continued the queen Gulnare, “instead of following your advice, you see I have all the reason in the world, not only to love the king of Persia as passionately as he loves me, but also to live and die with him, more out of gratitude than duty.  I hope then neither my mother, nor you, nor any of my cousins, will disapprove of the resolution or the alliance I have made, which will do equal honour to the kings of the sea and earth.  Excuse me for giving you the trouble of coming hither from the bottom of the deep, to communicate it to you; and to enjoy the pleasure of seeing you after so long a separation.”

“Sister,” replied King Saleh, “the proposal I made you of going back with us into my kingdom, upon the recital of your adventures (which I could not hear without concern), was only to let you see how much we all love you, and how much I in particular honour you, and that nothing is so dear to me as your happiness.  Upon the same account then, for my own part, I cannot condemn a resolution so reasonable and so worthy of yourself, after what you have told us of the king of Persia your husband, and the great obligations you owe him; and I am persuaded that the queen our mother will be of the same opinion.”

The queen confirmed what her son had spoken, and addressing herself to Gulnare, said, “I am glad to hear you are pleased; and I have nothing to add to what your brother has said.  I should have been the first to condemn you, had you not expressed all the gratitude you owe to a monarch that loves you so passionately.”

As the king of Persia had been extremely concerned under the apprehension of losing his beloved queen, so now he was transported with joy at her resolution never to forsake him; and having no room to doubt of her love after so open a declaration, he resolved to evince his gratitude in every possible way.

While the king was indulging incredible pleasure, Queen Gulnare clapped her hands, and immediately some of her slaves entered, whom she had ordered to bring in a collation:  as soon as it was served up, she invited the queen her mother, the king her brother, and her cousins to partake.  They began to reflect that they were in the palace of a mighty king, who had never seen or heard of them, and that it would be rudeness to eat at his table without him.  This reflection raised a blush in their faces, and in their emotion, their eyes glowing like fire, they breathed flames at their mouths and nostrils.

This unexpected sight put the king of Persia, who was totally ignorant of the cause of it, into a dreadful consternation.  Queen Gulnare, suspecting this, and understanding the intention of her relations, rose from her seat, and told them she would be back in a moment.  She went directly to the closet, and by her presence recovered the king of Persia from his surprise; “Sir,” said she, “I doubt not but that your majesty is well pleased with the acknowledgment I have made of the many favours for which I am indebted to you.  I might have complied with the wishes of my relations, and gone back with them into their dominions; but I am not capable of such ingratitude, for which I should have been the first to condemn myself.”  “Ah! my queen,” cried the king of Persia, “speak no more of your obligations to me; you have none; I am under so many to you, that I shall never be able to repay them.  I never thought it possible you could have loved me so tenderly as you do, and as you have made appear to me in the most endearing manner.”  “Ah! sir,” replied Gulnare “could I do less?  I fear I have not done enough, considering all the honours that your majesty has heaped upon me; and it is impossible for me to remain insensible of your love, after so many convincing proofs as you have given me.”

“But, sir,” continued Gulnare, “let us drop this subject, and give me leave to assure you of the sincere friendship the queen my mother and the king my brother are pleased to honour you with; they earnestly desire to see you, and tell you so themselves:  I intended to have had some conversation with them by ordering a banquet for them, before I introduced them to your majesty; but they are impatient to pay their respects to you; and therefore I beseech your majesty to be pleased to honour them with your presence.”

“Madam,” said the king of Persia, “I should be glad to salute persons who have the honour to be so nearly related to you, but I am afraid of the flames they breathe at their mouths and nostrils.”  “Sir,” replied the queen laughing, “you need not in the least fear those flames, which are nothing but a sign of their unwillingness to eat in your palace, without your honouring them with your presence, and eating with them.”

The king of Persia, encouraged by these words, rose and went into the apartment with his Queen Gulnare She presented him to the queen her mother, to the king her brother, and to her other relations; who instantly threw themselves at his feet, with their faces to the ground.  The king of Persia ran to them, and lifting them up, embraced them one after another.  After they were all seated, King Saleh began:  “Sir;” said he to the king of Persia, “we are at a loss for words to express our joy, to think that the queen my sister, in her disgrace, should have the happiness of falling under the protection of so powerful a monarch.  We can assure you, she is not unworthy of the high rank to which you have been pleased to raise her; and we have always had so much love and tenderness for her, that we could never think or parting with her to any of the puissant princes of the sea, who have often demanded her in marriage before she came of age.  Heaven has reserved her for you, and we have no better way of testifying our gratitude for the favour it has done her, than beseeching it to grant your majesty a long and happy life with her, and to crown you with prosperity and satisfaction.

“Certainly,” replied the king of Persia, “heaven reserved her for me, as you observe.  I love her with so tender and ardent a passion, that I am satisfied I never loved any woman till I saw her.  I cannot sufficiently thank either the queen her mother or you, prince, or your whole family, for the generosity with which you have consented to receive me into an alliance so glorious to me as yours.”  So saying he invited them to take part of the collation, and he and his queen sat down with them.  After the collation, the king of Persia conversed with them till it was very late; and when they thought it convenient to retire, he waited upon them himself to the several apartments he had ordered to be prepared for them.

The king of Persia treated his illustrious guests with continual feasts; in which he omitted nothing that might shew his grandeur and magnificence, and insensibly prevailed with them to stay with him till the queen was brought to bed.  When the time of her lying-in drew near, he gave particular orders that nothing should be wanting proper for such an occasion.  At length she was brought to bed of a son, to the great joy of the queen her mother, who assisted at the labour, and presented him to the king.

The king of Persia received this present with a joy easier to be imagined than expressed.  The young prince being of a beautiful countenance, he thought no name so proper for him as that of Beder, which in the Arabian language signifies the Full Moon.  To return thanks to heaven, he was very liberal in his alms to the poor, caused the prison doors to be set open, and gave all his slaves of both sexes their liberty.  He distributed vast sums among the ministers and holy men of his religion.  He also gave large donations to his courtiers, besides a considerable sum that was thrown amongst the people; and by proclamation, ordered rejoicings to be kept for several days through the whole city.

One day, after the queen was recovered, as the king of Persia, Gulnare, the queen her mother, King Saleh her brother, and the princesses their relations, were discoursing together in her majesty’s bed-chamber, the nurse came in with the young prince Beder in her arms.  King Saleh as soon as he saw him, ran to embrace him, and taking him in his arms, kissed and caressed him with the greatest demonstrations of tenderness.  He took several turns with him about the room, dancing and tossing him about, when all of a sudden, through a transport of joy, the window being open, he sprung out, and plunged with him into the sea.

The king of Persia, who expected no such sight, believing he should either see the prince his son no more, or else that he should see him drowned, was overwhelmed in affliction.  “Sir,” said queen Gulnare (with a quiet and undisturbed countenance, the better to comfort him), “let your majesty fear nothing; the young prince is my son as well as yours, and I do not love him less than yourself.  You see I am not alarmed; neither in truth ought I to be.  He runs no risk, and you will soon see the king his uncle appear with him again, and bring him back safe.  Although he be born of your blood, he is equally of mine, and will have the same advantage his uncle and I possess, of living equally in the sea, and upon the land.”  The queen his mother and the princesses his relations affirmed the same thing; yet all they said had no effect on the king, who could not recover from his alarm till he again saw prince Beder.

The sea at length became troubled, when immediately King Saleh arose with the young prince in his arms, and holding him up in the air, reentered at the window from which he had leaped.  The king of Persia being overjoyed to see Prince Beder again, and astonished that he was as calm as before he lost sight of him; King Saleh said, “Sir, was not your majesty in alarm, when you first saw me plunge into the sea with the prince my nephew?” “Alas prince,” answered the king of Persia, “I cannot express my concern.  I thought him lost from that very moment, and you now restore life to me by bringing him again.”  “I thought as much,” replied King Saleh, “though you had not the least reason to apprehend danger; for before I plunged into the sea, I pronounced over him certain mysterious words, which were engraved on the seal of the great Solomon the son of David.  We practise the like in relation to all those children that are born in the regions at the bottom of the sea, by virtue whereof they receive the same privileges as we have over those people who inhabit the earth.  From what your majesty has observed, you may easily see what advantage your son Prince Beder has acquired by his birth on the part of his mother Gulnare my sister:  for as long as he lives, and as often as he pleases, he will be at liberty to plunge into the sea, and traverse the vast empires it contains in its bosom.”

Having so spoken, King Saleh, who had restored Prince Beder to his nurse’s arms, opened a box he had fetched from his palace in the little time he had disappeared, which was filled with three hundred diamonds, as large as pigeons’ eggs; a like number of rubies of extraordinary size; as many emerald wands, each half a foot long, and thirty strings or necklaces of pearl consisting each of ten feet.  “Sir,” said he to the king of Persia, presenting him with this box, “when I was first summoned by the queen my sister, I knew not what part of the earth she was in, or that she had the honour to be married to so great a monarch.  This made us come without a present.  As we cannot express how much we have been obliged to your majesty, I beg you to accept this small token of gratitude in acknowledgment of the many favours you have been pleased to shew her, wherein we take equal interest.”

It is impossible to express how greatly the king of Persia was surprised at the sight of so much riches, enclosed in so little compass.  “What! prince,” cried he, “do you call so inestimable a present a small token of your gratitude, when you never have been indebted to me?  I declare once more you have never been in the least obliged to me, neither the queen your mother nor you.  I esteem myself but too happy in the consent you have given to the alliance I have contracted with you.  Madam,” continued he, turning to Gulnare, “the king your brother has put me into the greatest confusion; and I would beg of him to permit me to refuse his present, were I not afraid of disobliging him:  do you therefore endeavour to obtain his leave that I may be excused accepting it.”

“Sir,” replied King Saleh, “I am not at all surprised that your majesty thinks this present so extraordinary.  I know you are not accustomed upon earth to see precious stones of this quality and number:  but if you knew, as I do, the mines whence these jewels were taken, and that it is in my power to form a treasure greater than those of all the kings of the earth, you would wonder we should have the boldness to make you so small a present.  I beseech you therefore not to regard its trifling value, but consider the sincere friendship which obliges us to offer it to you, and not give us the mortification of refusing it.”  These engaging expressions obliged the king of Persia to accept the present, for which he returned many thanks both to King Saleh and the queen his mother.

A few days after, King Saleh gave the king of Persia to understand, that the queen his mother, the princesses his relations, and himself, could have no greater pleasure than to spend their whole lives at his court; but that having been so long absent from their own kingdom, where their presence was absolutely necessary, they begged of him to excuse them if they took leave of him and Queen Gulnare.  The king of Persia assured them, he was sorry it was not in his power to return their visit in their own dominions; but added, “As I am persuaded you will not forget Gulnare, I hope I shall have the honour to see you again more than once.”

Many tears were shed on both sides upon their separation.  King Saleh departed first; but the queen his mother and the princesses his relations were obliged to force themselves from the embraces of Gulnare, who could not prevail with herself to let them go.  This royal company were no sooner out of sight, than the king of Persia said to Gulnare, “Madam, I should have looked upon the person who had pretended to pass those upon me for true wonders, of which I myself have been eye-witness from the time I have been honoured with your illustrious family at my court, as one who would have abused my credulity.  But I cannot refuse to believe my senses; and shall remember them while I live, and never cease to bless heaven for directing you to me, in preference to any other prince.”

Beder was brought up and educated in the palace under the care of the king and queen of Persia, who both saw him grow and increase in beauty to their great satisfaction.  He gave them yet greater pleasure as he advanced in years, by his continual sprightliness, his agreeable manners, and the justness and vivacity of his wit; and this satisfaction was the more sensible, because King Saleh his uncle, the queen his grandmother, and the princesses his relations, came from time to time to partake of it.

He was easily taught to read and write, and was instructed with the same facility in all the sciences that became a prince of his rank.

When he arrived at the age of fifteen, he acquitted himself in all his exercises with infinitely better address and grace than his masters.  He was withal wise and prudent.  The king, who had almost from his cradle discovered in him virtues so necessary for a monarch, and who moreover began to perceive the infirmities of old age coming upon himself every day, would not stay till death gave him possession of his throne, but purposed to resign it to him.  He had no great difficulty to make his council consent to this arrangement:  and the people heard his resolution with so much the more joy, as they conceived Prince Beder worthy to govern them.  In a word, as the king had not for a long time appeared in public, they had the opportunity of observing that he had not that disdainful, proud, and distant air, which most princes have, who look upon all below them with scorn and contempt.  They saw, on the contrary, that he treated all mankind with that goodness which invited them to approach him; that he heard favourably all who had anything to say to him; that he answered everybody with a goodness that was peculiar to him; and that he refused nobody any thing that had the least appearance of justice.

The day for the ceremony was appointed, when in the midst of the whole assembly, which was then more numerous than ordinary, the king of Persia came down from his throne, took the crown from his head, put it on that of Prince Beder, and having seated him in his place, kissed his hand as a token that he resigned his authority to him.  After which he took his place among the crowd of viziers and emirs below the throne.

Hereupon the viziers, emirs, and other principal officers, came immediately and threw themselves at the new king’s feet, taking each the oath of fidelity according to their rank.  Then the grand vizier made a report of divers important matters, on which the young king gave judgment with that admirable prudence and sagacity that surprised all the council.  He next turned out several governors convicted of mal-administration, and put others in their room, with such wonderful and just discernment, as exalted the acclamations of every body, which were so much the more honourable, as flattery had no share in them.  He at length left the council, accompanied by his father, and went to wait on his mother Queen Gulnare at her apartment.  The queen no sooner saw him coming with his crown upon his head, than she ran to him and embraced him with tenderness, wishing him a long and prosperous reign.

The first year of his reign King Beder acquitted himself of all his royal functions with great assiduity.  Above all, he took care to inform himself of the state of his affairs, and all that might any way contribute towards the happiness of his people.  Next year, having left the administration to his council, under the direction of his father, he left his capital, under pretence of diverting himself with hunting; but his real intention was to visit all the provinces of his kingdom, that he might reform abuses, establish good order, and deprive all ill-minded princes, his neighbours, of any opportunities of attempting anything against the security and tranquillity of his subjects, by shewing himself on his frontiers.

It required no less than a whole year for the young monarch to execute a design so worthy of him.  Soon after his return, the old king his father fell so dangerously ill, that he knew at once he should never recover.  He waited for his last moment with great tranquillity, and his only care was to recommend to the ministers and other lords of his son’s court, to persevere in the fidelity they had sworn to him:  and there was not one but willingly renewed his oath as freely as at first.  He died at length, to the great grief of King Beder and Queen Gulnare, who caused his corpse to be borne to a stately mausoleum, worthy of his rank and dignity.

The funeral obsequies ended, King Beder found no difficulty to comply with that ancient custom in Persia to mourn for the dead a whole month and not to be seen by anybody during that time.  He had mourned the death of his father his whole life, had he yielded to his excessive affliction, and had it been right for a great prince thus to abandon himself to sorrow.  During this interval the Queen Gulnare’s mother, and King Saleh, together with the princesses their relations, arrived at the Persian court to condole with their relations.

When the month was expired, the king could not refuse admittance to the grand vizier and the other lords of his court, who besought him to lay aside his mourning, to shew himself to his subjects, and take upon him the administration of affairs as before.

He shewed so much reluctance to comply with their request, that the grand vizier was forced to take upon himself to say; “Sir, it were needless to represent to your majesty, that it belongs only to women to persist in perpetual mourning.  We doubt not but you are fully convinced of this, and that it is not your intention to follow their example.  Neither our tears nor yours are capable of restoring life to the good king your father, though we should lament him all our days.  He has submitted to the common law of all men, which subjects them to pay the indispensable tribute of death.  Yet we cannot say absolutely that he is dead, since we see in him your sacred person.  He did not himself doubt, when he was dying, but he should revive in you, and to your majesty it belongs to show that he was not deceived.”

King Beder could no longer oppose such pressing instances; he laid aside his mourning; and after he had resumed the royal habit and ornaments, began to provide for the necessities of his kingdom and subjects with the same assiduity as before his father’s death.  He acquitted himself with universal approbation:  and as he was exact in maintaining the ordinances of his predecessor, the people did not perceive they had changed their sovereign.

King Saleh, who was returned to his dominions in the sea with the queen his mother and the princesses, no sooner saw that King Beder had resumed the government, but he at the end of the year came alone to visit him; and King Beder and Queen Gulnare were overjoyed to see him.  One evening, talking of various matters, King Saleh fell insensibly on the praises of the king his nephew, and expressed to the queen his sister how glad he was to see him govern so prudently, as to acquire such high reputation, not only among his neighbours, but more remote princes.  King Beder, who could not bear to hear himself so well spoken of, and not being willing, through good manners, to interrupt the king his uncle, turned on one side, and feigned to be asleep, leaning his head against a cushion that was behind him.

From these commendations, which regarded only the conduct and genius of Beder, King Saleh came to speak of the perfections of his person, which he extolled as prodigies, having nothing equal to them upon earth, or in all the kingdoms under the waters, with which he was acquainted.

“Sister,” said he, “I wonder you have not thought of marrying him:  if I mistake not, he is in his twentieth year; and, at that age, no prince ought to be suffered to be without a wife.  I will think of a match for him myself, since you will not, and marry him to some princess of our lower world that may be worthy of him.”

“Brother,” replied queen Gulnare, “you call to my attention what I must own has never occurred to me.  As he discovered no inclination for marriage, I never thought of mentioning it to him.  I like your proposal of one of our princesses; and I desire you to name one so beautiful and accomplished that the king my son may be obliged to love her.”

“I know one,” replied king Saleh, softly; “but before I tell you who she is, let us see if the king my nephew be asleep, and I will tell you afterwards why it is necessary we should take that precaution.”  Queen Gulnare turned about and looked at her son, and thought she had no reason to doubt but he was in a profound sleep.  King Beder, nevertheless, far from sleeping, redoubled his attention, unwilling to lose any thing the king his uncle said with so much secrecy.  “There is no necessity for your speaking so low,” said the queen to the king her brother; “you may speak out with freedom, without fear of being heard.”

“It is by no means proper,” replied King Saleh, “that the king my nephew should as yet have any knowledge of what I am going to say.  Love, you know, sometimes enters at the ear, and it is not necessary he should thus conceive a passion for the lady I am about to name.  Indeed I see many difficulties to be surmounted, not on the lady’s part, as I hope, but on that of her father.  I need only mention to you the princess Jehaun-ara, daughter of the king of Samandal.”

“How! brother,” replied Queen Gulnare, “is not the princess yet married?  I remember to have seen her before I left your palace; she was then about eighteen months old, surprisingly beautiful, and must needs be the wonder of the world, if her charms have increased with her years.  The few years she is older than the king my son ought not to prevent us from doing our utmost to effect the match.  Let me but know the difficulties in the way, and we will surmount them.”

“Sister,” replied King Saleh, “the greatest difficulty is, that the king of Samandal is insupportably vain, looking upon all others as his inferiors:  it is not likely we shall easily get him to enter into this alliance.  I will however go to him in person, and demand of him the princess his daughter; and, in case he refuses her, we will address ourselves elsewhere, where we shall be more favourably heard.  For this reason, as you may perceive,” added he, “it is as well for the king my nephew not to know any thing of our design, till we have the consent of the king of Samandal.”  They discoursed a little longer upon this point and, before they parted, agreed that King Saleh should forthwith return to his own dominions, and demand the princess for the king of Persia his nephew.

This done, Queen Gulnare and King Saleh, who believed King Beder asleep, agreed to awake him before they retired; and he dissembled so well that he seemed to awake from a profound sleep.  He had heard every word, and the character they gave of the princess had inflamed his heart with a new passion.  He had conceived such an idea of her beauty, that the desire of possessing her made him pass the night very uneasy without closing his eyes.

Next day King Saleh proposed taking leave of Gulnare and the king his nephew.  The young king, who knew his uncle would not have departed so soon but to go and promote without loss of time his happiness, changed colour when he heard him mention his departure.  His passion was become so violent, it would not suffer him to wait so long for the sight of his mistress as would be required to accomplish the marriage.  He more than once resolved to desire his uncle to bring her away with him:  but as he did not wish to let the queen his mother understand he knew anything of what had passed, he desired him only to stay with him one day more, that they might hunt together, intending to take that opportunity to discover his mind to him.

The day for hunting was fixed, and King Beder had many opportunities of being alone with his uncle; but he had not courage to acquaint him with his design.

In the heat of the chase, when King Saleh was separated from him, and not one of his officers or attendants was near him, he alighted by a rivulet; and having tied his horse to a tree, which, with several others growing along the banks, afforded a very pleasing shade, he laid himself on the grass, and gave free course to his tears, which flowed in great abundance, accompanied with many sighs.

He remained a good while in this condition, absorbed in thought, without speaking a word.  King Saleh, in the meantime, missing the king his nephew, began to be much concerned to know what was become of him; but could meet no one who could give any tidings of him.  He therefore left his company to seek for him, and at length perceived him at a distance.  He had observed the day before, and more plainly that day, that he was not so lively as he used to be; and that, if he was asked a question, he either answered not at all, or nothing to the purpose; but never in the least suspected the cause.  As soon as he saw him dying in that disconsolate posture, he immediately guessed he had not only heard what had passed between him and Queen Gulnare, but was become passionately in love.  He alighted at some distance from him, and having tied his horse to a tree, came upon him so softly, that he heard him pronounce the following words:

“Amiable princess of the kingdom of Samandal, I have no doubt had but an imperfect sketch of your incomparable beauty; I hold you to be still more beautiful in preference to all the princesses in the world, and to excel them as much as the sun does the moon and stars.  I would this moment go and offer you my heart, if I knew where to find you; it belongs to you, and no princess shall be possessor of it but yourself!”

King Saleh would hear no more; he advanced immediately, and discovered himself to Beder.  “From what I see, nephew,” said he, “you heard what the queen your mother and I said the other day of the princess Jehaun-ara.  It was not our intention you should have known any thing respecting her, and we thought you were asleep.”  “My dear uncle,” replied King Beder, “I heard every word, and have sufficiently experienced the effect you foretold; which it was not in your power to prevent.  I detained you on purpose to acquaint you with my love before your departure; but the shame of disclosing my weakness, if it be any to love a princess so worthy of my affection, sealed up my mouth.  I beseech you then, by the friendship you profess for a prince who has the honour to be so nearly allied to you, that you would pity me, and not wait to procure me the consent of the divine Jehaun-ara, till you have gained that of the king of Samandal that I may marry his daughter, unless you had rather see me die with love, before I behold her.”

These words of the king of Persia greatly embarrassed King Saleh.  He represented to him how difficult it was to give him the satisfaction he desired, and that he could not do it without carrying him along with him; which might be of dangerous consequence, since his presence was so absolutely necessary in his kingdom.  He conjured him, therefore, to moderate his passion, till such time as he had put things into a train to satisfy him, assuring him he would use his utmost diligence, and would come to acquaint him in a few days.  But these reasons were not sufficient to satisfy the king of Persia.  “Cruel uncle,” said he.  “I find you do not love me so much as you pretended, and that you had rather see me die than grant the first request I ever made.”

“I am ready to convince your majesty,” replied King Saleh, “that I would do any thing to serve you; but as for carrying you along with me, I cannot do that till I have spoken to the queen your mother.  What would she say of you and me?  If she consents, I am ready to do all you would have me, and will join my entreaties to yours.”  “You cannot be ignorant,” replied the king of Persia, “that the queen my mother would never willingly part with me; and therefore this excuse does but farther convince me of your unkindness.  If you really love me, as you would have me believe, you must return to your kingdom immediately, and take me with you.”

King Saleh, finding himself obliged to yield to his nephew’s importunity, drew from his finger a ring, on which were engraved the same mysterious names of God that were upon Solomon’s seal, which had wrought so many wonders by their virtue.  “Here, take this ring,” said he, “put it on your finger, and fear neither the waters of the sea, nor their depth.”  The king of Persia took the ring, and when he had put it on his finger, King Saleh said to him, “Do as I do.”  At the same time they both mounted lightly up into the air, and made towards the sea, which was not far distant, and they both plunged into it.

The sea-king was not long in arriving at his palace, with the king of Persia, whom he immediately carried to the queen’s apartments, and presented to her.  The king of Persia kissed the queen his grandmother’s hands, and she embraced him with great demonstrations of joy.  “I do not ask you how you do,” said she, “I see you are very well, and am rejoiced at it; but I desire to know how my daughter your mother Queen Gulnare does.”  The king of Persia took great care not to let her know that he had come away with out taking leave of her; on the contrary he told her, the queen his mother was in perfect health, and had enjoined him to pay her duty to her.  The queen then presented him to the princesses; and while he was in conversation with them, she left him, and went with King Saleh into a closet, who told her how the king of Persia was fallen in love with the Princess Jehaun-ara, upon the bare relation of her beauty, and contrary to his intention; that he had, against his own wishes, brought him along with him, and that he was going to concert measures to procure the princess for him in marriage.

Although King Saleh was, to do him justice, perfectly innocent of the king of Persia’s passion, yet the queen could hardly forgive his indiscretion in mentioning the princess Jehaun-ara before him, “Your imprudence is not to be forgiven,” said she; “can you think that the king of Samandal, whose character is so well known, will have greater consideration for you, than the many other kings to whom he has refused his daughter, with such evident contempt?  Would you have him send you away with the same confusion?

“Madam,” replied King Saleh, “I have already told you it was contrary to my intention that the king my nephew heard what I related of the beauty of the princess to the queen my sister.  The fault is committed, and we must consider what a violent passion he has for this princess, and that he will die with grief and affliction, if we do not speedily obtain her for him.  For my part, I shall omit nothing that can contribute to effect their union:  since I was, though innocently, the cause of the malady, I will do all I can to remedy it.  I hope, madam, you will approve of my resolution, to go myself and wait on the king of Samandal, with a rich present of precious stones, and demand the princess his daughter of him for the king of Persia.  I have some reason to believe he will not refuse, but will be pleased with an alliance with one of the greatest potentates of the earth.”

“It were to have been wished,” replied the queen, “that we had not been under a necessity of making this demand, since the success of our attempt is not so certain as we could desire; but since my grandson’s peace and content depend upon it, I freely give my consent.  But, above all, I charge you, since you well know the humour of the king of Samandal, that you take care to speak to him with due respect, and in a manner that cannot possibly offend him.”

The queen prepared the present herself, composing it of diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and strings of pearl, all which she put into a rich box.  Next morning King Saleh took leave of her majesty and the king of Persia, and departed with a chosen and small troop of officers, and attendants.  He soon arrived at the kingdom, and the palace of the king of Samandal, who delayed not to give him audience.  He rose from his throne as soon as he perceived him; and King Saleh, forgetting his character for some moments, knowing whom he had to deal with, prostrated himself at his feet, wishing him the accomplishment of all his desires.  The king of Samandal stooped to raise him, and after he had placed him on his left hand, told him he was welcome, and asked him if there was any thing he could do to serve him.

“Sir,” answered King Saleh, “though I should have no other motive than that of paying my respects to the most potent, most prudent, and most valiant prince in the world, feeble would be my language to express how much I honour your majesty.  Could you penetrate into my inmost soul, you would be convinced of the great veneration I have for you, and of my ardent desire to testify my attachment.”  Having spoke these words, he took the box of jewels from one of his servants, and having opened it, presented it to the king, imploring him to accept of it for his sake.

“Prince,” replied the king of Samandal, “you would not make me such a present unless you had a request proportionable to it to propose.  If there be any thing in my power to grant, you may freely command me, and I shall feel the greatest pleasure in complying with your wishes.  Speak, and tell me frankly, wherein I can serve you?”

“I must own ingenuously,” replied King Saleh, “I have a boon to ask of your majesty; and I shall take care to ask nothing but what is in your power to bestow.  The thing depends so absolutely on yourself, that it would be to no purpose to ask it of any one else.  I ask it then with all possible earnestness, and I beg of you not to refuse me.”  “If it be so,” replied the king of Samandal, “you have nothing to do but acquaint me what it is, and you shall see after what manner I can oblige when it is in my power.”

“Sir,” said King Saleh, “after the confidence with which your majesty has been pleased to inspire me, I will not dissemble any longer, that I came to beg of you to honour our house with your alliance by the marriage of your daughter, and to strengthen the good understanding that has so long subsisted between our two crowns.”

At these words the king of Samandal burst into a loud laugh, falling back in his throne against a cushion that supported him, and with an imperious and scornful air, said, “King Saleh, I have always hitherto thought you a prince of great wisdom, and prudence; but what you say convinces me I was mistaken.  Tell me, I beseech you, where was your wit or discretion, when you formed to yourself such a chimera as you have proposed to me?  Could you conceive a thought of aspiring in marriage to a princess, the daughter of so powerful a monarch as myself?  You ought to have considered the great distance between us, and not run the risk of losing in a moment the esteem I always had for you.”

King Saleh was hurt at this affronting answer, and could scarcely restrain his resentment; however he replied with all possible moderation, “God reward your majesty as you deserve!  I have the honour to inform you, I do not demand the princess your daughter in marriage for myself; had I done even that, your majesty and the princess, so far from being offended, should have thought it an honour done to both.  Your majesty well knows I am one of the kings of the sea as well as yourself; that my ancestors yield not in antiquity to any royal house; and that the kingdom I inherit is no less potent and flourishing than your own.  If your majesty had not interrupted me, you had soon understood that the favour I asked was not for myself, but for the young king of Persia my nephew, whose power and grandeur, no less than his personal good qualities, cannot be unknown to you.  Everybody acknowledges the Princess Jehaun-ara to be the most beautiful under ocean:  but it is no less true, that the king of Persia is the handsomest and most accomplished prince on earth.  Thus the favour that is asked being likely to redound to the honour both of your majesty and the princess your daughter, you ought not to doubt that your consent to an alliance so equal will be unanimously approved in all the kingdoms of the sea.  The princess is worthy of the king of Persia, and the king of Persia is no less worthy of her.”

The king of Samandal had not permitted King Saleh to speak so long, but that rage deprived him of all power of speech.  At length, however, he broke out into outrageous and insulting expressions, unworthy of a great king.  “Dog,” cried he, “dare you talk to me after this manner, and so much as mention my daughter’s name in my presence Can you think the son of your sister Gulnare worthy to come in competition with my daughter?  Who are you?  Who was your father?  Who is your sister?  And who your nephew?  Was not his father a dog, and the son of a dog, like you?  Guards, seize the insolent wretch, and strike off his head.”

The few officers who were about the king of Samandal were immediately going to obey his orders, when King Saleh, who was in the flower of his age, nimble and vigorous, got from them, before they could draw their sabres; and having reached the palace-gate, found there a thousand men of his relations and friends, well armed and equipped, who were just arrived.  The queen his mother having considered the small number of attendants he had taken with him, and foreseeing the reception he would probably meet from the king of Samandal, had sent these troops to protect and defend him in case of danger, ordering them to make haste.  Those of his relations who were at the head of this troop had reason to rejoice at their seasonable arrival, when they beheld him and his attendants running in great disorder, and pursued.  “Sire,” cried his friends, the moment he joined them, “who has insulted you?  We are ready to revenge you:  you need only command us.”

King Saleh related his case to them in few words, and putting himself at the head of a troop, while some seized the gates, he re-entered the palace.  The few officers and guards who had pursued him, being soon dispersed, he forced the king of Samandal’s apartment, who, being abandoned by his attendants, was soon seized.  King Saleh left sufficient guards to secure his person, and then went from apartment to apartment, to search after the Princess Jehaun-ara.  But she, on the first alarm, had, together with her women, sprung up to the surface of the sea, and escaped to a desert island.

While this passed in the palace of the king of Samandal, those of King Saleh’s attendants who had fled at the first menaces of that king, put the queen mother into terrible consternation, on relating the danger of her son.  King Beder, who was present at the time, was the more concerned, as he looked upon himself as the principal author of the mischief that might ensue:  therefore, not caring to abide the queen’s presence any longer, whilst she was giving the orders necessary at that conjuncture, he darted up from the bottom of the sea; and not knowing how to find his way to the kingdom of Persia, happened to land on the island where the Princess Jehaun-ara had saved herself.

The prince, not a little disturbed in mind, seated himself under the shade of a large tree, surrounded by others.  Whilst he was endeavouring to recover himself, he heard somebody talking, but was too far off to understand what was said.  He arose, and advanced softly towards the place whence the sound proceeded, where, among the branches, he perceived a beauty that dazzled him.  “Doubtless,” said he, within himself, stopping and considering her with great attention, “this must be the princess Jehaun-ara, whom fear has obliged to abandon her father’s palace; or if it be not, she no less deserves my love.”  This said, he came forward, and discovering himself, approached the princess with profound reverence.  “Madam,” said he, “I can never sufficiently thank Heaven for the favour it has done me in presenting to my eyes so much beauty.  A greater happiness could not have befallen me than this opportunity to offer you my services.  I beseech you, therefore, madam, to accept them, it being impossible that a lady in this solitude should not want assistance.”

“True, my lord,” replied Jehaun-ara, sorrowfully; “it is not a little extraordinary for a lady of my quality to be in this situation.  I am a princess, daughter of the king of Samandal, and my name is Jehaun-ara.  I was at ease in my father’s palace, in my apartment, when suddenly I heard a dreadful noise:  news was immediately brought me, that king Saleh, I know not for what reason, had forced the palace, seized the king my father, and murdered all the guards who made any resistance.  I had only time to save myself, and escape hither from his violence.”

At these words King Beder began to be concerned that he had quitted his grandmother so hastily, without staying to hear from her an explanation of the news that had been brought.  But he was, on the other hand, overjoyed to find that the king his uncle had rendered himself master of the king of Samandal’s person, not doubting but he would consent to give up the princess for his liberty.  “Adorable princess,” continued he, “your concern is most just, but it is easy to put an end both to that and your father’s captivity.  You will agree with me, when I shall tell you that I am Beder, king of Persia, and King Saleh is my uncle:  I assure you, madam, he has no design to seize the king your father’s dominions; his only intention is to obtain your father’s consent, that I may have the honour and happiness of being his son-in-law.  I had already given my heart to you, upon the bare relation of your beauty and charms; and now, far from repenting, I beg of you to accept it, and to be assured that I will love you as long as I live.  I dare flatter myself you will not refuse this favour, but be ready to acknowledge that a king, who quitted his dominions purely on your account, deserves some acknowledgment.  Permit me then, beauteous princess! to have the honour to present you to the king my uncle; and the king your father shall no sooner have consented to our marriage, than King Saleh will leave him sovereign of his dominions as before.”

This declaration of King Beder did not produce the effect he expected.  It is true, the princess no sooner saw him, than his person, air, and the grace wherewith he accosted her, led her to regard him as one who would not have been disagreeable to her; but when she heard that he had been the occasion of all the ill treatment her father had suffered, of the grief and fright she had endured, and especially the necessity she was reduced to of flying her country; she looked upon him as an enemy with whom she ought to have no connection.  Whatever inclination she might have to agree to the marriage which he desired, she determined never to consent, reflecting that one of the reasons her father might have against this match might be, that King Beder was son of a king of the earth.

She would not, however, let King Beder know her resentment; but sought an occasion to deliver herself dexterously out of his hands; and seeming in the meantime to have a great kindness for him, “Are you then,” said she, with all possible civility, “son of the Queen Gulnare, so famous for her wit and beauty?  I am glad of it, and rejoice that you are the son of so worthy a mother.  The king my father was much in the wrong so strongly to oppose our union:  had he but seen you, he must have consented to make us happy.”  Saying so, she reached forth her hand to him as a token of friendship.

King Beder, believing himself arrived at the very pinnacle of happiness, held forth his hand, and taking that of the princess, stooped down to kiss it, when she, pushing him back, and spitting in his face for want of water to throw at him, said, “Wretch, quit the form of a man, and take that of a white bird, with a red bill and feet.”  Upon her pronouncing these words, King Beder was immediately changed into a bird of that description, to his great surprise and mortification.  “Take him,” said she to one of her women, “and carry him to the Dry Island.”  This island was only one frightful rock, where not a drop of water was to be had.

The waiting-woman took the bird, but in executing her princess’s orders, had compassion on King Beder’s misfortune.  “It would be great pity,” said she to herself, “to let a prince so worthy to live die of hunger and thirst.  The princess, who is good and gentle, will, it may be, repent of this cruel order, when she comes to herself; it were better that I carried him to a place where he may die a natural death.”  She accordingly carried him to a well-frequented island, and left him in a charming plain, planted with all sorts of fruit-trees, and watered by divers rivulets.

Let us return to King Saleh.  After he had sought for the princess Jehaun-ara to no purpose, he caused the king of Samandal to be shut up in his own palace, under a strong guard; and having given the necessary orders for governing the kingdom in his absence, returned to give the queen his mother an account of what he had done.  The first question he asked on his arrival was, “Where was the king his nephew?” and he learned with great surprise and vexation that he could not be found.  “News being brought me,” said the queen, “of the danger you were in at the palace of the king of Samandal, whilst I was giving orders to send you other troops to avenge you, he disappeared.  He must have been alarmed at hearing of your being in such great danger, and did not think himself in sufficient security with us.”

This news exceedingly afflicted King Saleh, who now repented being so easily wrought upon by King Beder as to carry him away with him without his mother’s consent.  He sent everywhere to seek for him, but could hear no tidings of him; and instead of the joy he felt at having carried on so far the marriage, which he looked upon as his own work, his grief for this accident was more mortifying.  Whilst he was under this suspense about his nephew, he left his kingdom under the administration of his mother, and went to govern that of the king of Samandal, whom he continued to keep with great vigilance, though with all due respect to his character.

The same day that King Saleh returned to the kingdom of Samandal, Queen Gulnare arrived at the court of the queen her mother.  The princess was not at all surprised to find her son did not return the same day he set out:  it being not uncommon for him to go farther than he proposed in the heat of the chase; but when she saw he neither returned the next day, nor the day after, she began to be alarmed, as may easily be imagined from her affection for him.  This alarm was augmented, when the officers, who had accompanied the king, and were obliged to return after they had for a long time sought in vain both for him and his uncle, came and told her majesty they must of necessity have come to some harm, or must be together in some place which they could not guess; since, notwithstanding all the diligence they had used, they could hear no tidings of them.  Their horses indeed they had found, but as for their persons, they knew not where to look for them.  The queen hearing this, had resolved to dissemble and conceal her affliction, bidding the officers to search once more with their utmost diligence; but in the meantime she plunged into the sea, to satisfy herself as to the suspicion she had entertained that king Saleh must have carried his nephew with him.

This great queen would have been more affectionately received by her mother, had she not, on first seeing her, guessed the occasion of her coming.  “Daughter,” said she, “I plainly perceive you are not come hither to visit me; you come to inquire after the king your son; and the only news I can tell you will augment both your grief and mine.  I no sooner saw him arrive in our territories, than I rejoiced; yet when I came to understand he had come away without your knowledge, I began to participate with you the concern you must needs suffer.”  Then she related to her with what zeal King Saleh went to demand the Princess Jehaun-ara in marriage for King Beder, and what had happened, till her son disappeared.  “I have sought diligently after him,” added she, “and the king my son, who is but just gone to govern the kingdom of Samandal, has done all that lay in his power.  All our endeavours have hitherto proved unsuccessful, but we must hope nevertheless to see him again, perhaps when we least expect it.”

Queen Gulnare was not satisfied with this hope:  she looked upon the king her son as lost, and lamented him bitterly, laying all the blame on the king his uncle.  The queen her mother made her consider the necessity of not yielding too much to grief.  “The king your brother,” said she, “ought not, it is true, to have talked to you so inconsiderately about that marriage, nor ever have consented to carry away the king my grandson, without acquainting you; yet, since it is not certain that the king of Persia is absolutely lost, you ought to neglect nothing to preserve his kingdom for him:  lose then no more time, but return to your capital; your presence there will be necessary, and it will not be difficult for you to preserve the public peace, by causing it to be published, that the king of Persia was gone to visit his grandmother.”

This was sufficient to oblige Queen Gulnare to yield.  She took leave of the queen her mother, and returned to the palace of the capital of Persia before she had been missed.  She immediately despatched persons to recall the officers she had sent after the king, to tell them that she knew where his majesty was, and that they should soon see him again.  She also caused the same report to be spread throughout the city, and governed, in concert with the prime minister and council, with the same tranquillity as if the king had been present.

To return to King Beder, whom the Princess Jehaun-ara’s waiting-woman had left in the island before mentioned; that monarch was not a little surprised when he found himself alone, and under the form of a bird.  He esteemed himself yet more unhappy, in that he knew not where he was, or in what part of the world the kingdom of Persia lay.  But if he had known, and had tried the force of his wings, to hazard the traversing so many extensive watery regions, and had reached it, what could he have gained, but the mortification to continue still in the same form, and not to be accounted even a man, much less acknowledged king of Persia?  He was forced to remain where he was, live upon such food as birds of his kind were wont to have, and to pass the night on a tree.

A few days afterwards, a peasant, skilled in taking birds with nets, chanced to come to the place where he was; when perceiving so fine a bird, the like of which he had never seen, though he had followed that employment for a long while, he began greatly to rejoice.  He employed all his art to ensnare him; and at length succeeded and took him.  Overjoyed at so great a prize, which he looked upon to be of more worth than all the other birds he commonly took, he shut it up in a cage, and carried it to the city.  As soon as he was come into the market, a citizen stops him, and asked how much he would have for his bird?

Instead of answering, the peasant demanded of the citizen what he would do with him in case he should buy him?  “What wouldst thou have me to do with him,” answered the citizen, “but roast and eat him?” “If that be the case,” replied the peasant, “I suppose you would think me very well paid, if you should give me the smallest piece of silver for him.  I set a much higher value upon him, and you should not have him for a piece of gold.  Although I am advanced in years, I never saw such a bird in my life.  I intend to make a present of him to the king; he will know its value better than you.”

Without staying any longer in the market, the peasant went directly to the palace, and placed himself exactly before the king’s apartment.  His majesty, being at a window where he could see all that passed in the court, no sooner cast his eyes on this beautiful bird, than he sent an officer of his eunuchs to buy it for him.  The officer going to the peasant, demanded of him how much he would have for the bird?  “If it be for his majesty,” answered the peasant, “I humbly beg of him to accept it of me as a present, and I desire you to carry it to him.”  The officer took the bird to the king, who found it so great a rarity, that he ordered the same officer to take ten pieces of gold, and carry them to the peasant, who departed very well satisfied.  The king ordered the bird to be put into a magnificent cage, and gave it corn and water in rich vessels.

The king being then ready to mount on horseback to go a hunting, had not time to consider the bird, therefore had it brought to him as soon as he returned.  The officer brought the cage, and the king, that he might the better view the bird, took it out himself; and perched it upon his hand.  Looking earnestly upon it, he demanded of the officer, if he had seen it eat.  “Sir,” replied the officer, “your majesty may observe the vessel with his food is still full, and I have not observed that he has touched any of it.”  Then the king ordered him meat of divers sorts, that he might take what he liked best.

The table being spread, and dinner served up just as the king had given these orders, as soon as the dishes were placed, the bird, clapping his wings, leaped off the king’s hand, flew upon the table, where he began to peck the bread and victuals, sometimes on one plate and sometimes on another.  The king was so surprised that he immediately sent the officer of the eunuchs to desire the queen to come and see this wonder.  The officer related it to her majesty, and she came forthwith; but she no sooner saw the bird, than she covered her face with her veil, and would have retired.  The king, surprised at her proceeding, as there was none present in the chamber but the eunuchs and the women who attended her, asked the reason of her conduct.

“Sir,” answered the queen, “your majesty will no longer be surprised, when you understand, that this is not as you suppose a bird, but a man.”  “Madam,” said the king, more astonished than before, “you mean to banter me; but you shall never persuade me that a bird can be a man.”  “Sir,” replied the queen, “far be it from me to banter your majesty; nothing is more certain than what I have had the honour to tell you.  I can assure your majesty, it is the king of Persia, named Beder, son of the celebrated Gulnare, princess of one of the largest kingdoms of the sea, nephew of Saleh, king of that kingdom, and grandson of Queen Farasche, mother of Gulnare and Saleh; and it was the Princess Jehaun-ara, daughter of the king of Samandal, who thus metamorphosed him into a bird.”  That the king might no longer doubt of what she affirmed, she told him the whole story, and stated that the Princess Jehaun-ara had thus revenged herself for the ill treatment which King Saleh had used towards the king of Samandal her father.

The king had the less difficulty to believe this assertion of the queen, as he knew her to be a skilful magician.  And as she knew everything which passed in every part of the world, he was always by her means timely informed of the designs of the kings his neighbours against him, and prevented them.  His majesty had compassion on the king of Persia, and earnestly besought his queen to break the enchantment, that he might return to his own form.

The queen consented with great willingness.  “Sir,” said she to the king, “be pleased to take the bird into your closet, and I will shew you a king worthy of the consideration you have for him.”  The bird, which had ceased eating, and attended to what the king and queen said, would not give his majesty the trouble to take him, but hopped into the closet before him; and the queen came in soon after, with a vessel full of water in her hand.  She pronounced over the vessel some words unknown to the king, till the water began to boil; when she took some of it in her hand, and sprinkling a little upon the bird, said, “By virtue of those holy and mysterious words I have just pronounced, and in the name of the Creator of heaven and earth, who raises the dead, and supports the universe, quit the form of a bird, and re-assume that received from thy Creator.”

The words were scarcely out of the queen’s mouth, when, instead of a bird, the king saw a young prince of good shape, air, and mien.  King Beder immediately fell on his knees, and thanked God for the favour that had been bestowed upon him.  He then took the king’s hand, who helped him up, and kissed it in token of gratitude; but the king embraced him with great joy, and testified to him the satisfaction he had to see him.  He would then have made his acknowledgments to the queen, but she was already retired to her apartment.  The king made him sit at the table with him, and prayed him to relate how the Princess Jehaun-ara could have the inhumanity to transform into a bird so amiable a prince; and the king of Persia immediately satisfied him.  When he had ended, the king, provoked at the proceeding of the princess, could not help blaming her.  “It was commendable,” said he, “in the princess of Samandal not to be insensible of the king her father’s ill treatment; but to carry her vengeance so far, and especially against a prince who was not culpable, was what she could never be able to justify herself for.  But let us have done with this subject, and tell me, I beseech you, in what I can farther serve you.”

“Sir,” answered King Beder, “my obligation to your majesty is so great, that I ought to remain with you all my life to testify my gratitude; but since your majesty sets no limits to your generosity, I entreat you to grant me one of your ships to transport me to Persia, where I fear my absence, which has been but too long, may have occasioned some disorder, and that the queen my mother, from whom I concealed my departure, may be distracted under the uncertainty whether I am alive or dead.”

The king readily granted what he desired, and immediately gave orders for equipping one of his largest ships, and the best sailors in his numerous fleet.  The ship was soon furnished with all its complement of men, provisions, and ammunition; and as soon as the wind became fair, King Beder embarked, after having taken leave of the king, and thanked him for all his favours.

The ship sailed before the wind for ten days together, but on the eleventh the wind changed, and there followed a furious tempest.  The ship was not only driven out of its course, but so violently tossed, that all its masts were brought by the board; and driving along at the pleasure of the wind, it at length struck against a rock and bulged.

The greatest part of the people were instantly drowned.  Some few were saved by swimming, and others by getting on pieces of the wreck.  King Beder was among the latter, when, after having been tossed about for some time by the waves and torrents, under great uncertainty of his fate, he at length perceived himself near the shore, and not far from a city that seemed of great extent.  He exerted his remaining strength to reach the land, and was at length so fortunate as to be able to touch the ground with his feet.  He immediately abandoned his piece of wood, which had been of such great service to him; but when he came pretty near the shore, was greatly surprised to see horses, camels, mules, asses, oxen, cows, bulls, and other animals crowding to the shore, and putting themselves in a posture to oppose his landing.  He had the utmost difficulty to conquer their obstinacy and force his way, but at length he succeeded, and sheltered himself among the rocks till he had recovered his breath, and dried his clothes in the sun.

When the prince advanced to enter the city, he met with the same opposition from these animals, who seemed to intend to make him forego his design, and give him to understand it was dangerous to proceed.

King Beder, however, entered the city, and saw many fair and spacious streets, but was surprised to find no human beings.  This made him think it was not without cause that so many animals had opposed his passage.  Going forward, nevertheless, he observed divers shops open, which gave him reason to believe the place was not so destitute of inhabitants as he imagined.  He approached one of these shops, where several sorts of fruits were exposed for sale, and saluted very courteously an old man who was sitting within.

The old man, who was busy about something, lifted up his head, and seeing a youth who had an appearance of grandeur in his air, started, asked him whence he came, and what business had brought him there?  King Beder satisfied him in a few words; and the old man farther asked him if he had met anybody on the road?  “You are the first person I have seen,” answered the king, “and I cannot comprehend how so fine and large a city comes to be without inhabitants.”  “Come in, sir; stay no longer upon the threshold,” replied the old man, “or peradventure some misfortune may happen to you.  I will satisfy your curiosity at leisure, and give you a reason why it is necessary you should take this precaution.”

King Beder entered the shop, and sat down by the old man.  The latter, who had received from him an account of his misfortunes, knew he must want nourishment, therefore immediately presented him what was necessary to recover his strength; and although King Beder was very earnest to know why he had taken the precaution to make him enter the shop, he would nevertheless not be prevailed upon to tell him anything till he had done eating, for fear the sad things he had to relate might spoil his appetite.  When he found he ate no longer, he said to him, “You have great reason to thank God that you got hither without any accident.”  “Alas! why?” demanded King Beder, much surprised and alarmed.

“Because,” answered he, “this city is the City of Enchantments, and is governed by a queen, who is not only one of the finest of her sex, but likewise a notorious and dangerous sorceress.  You will be convinced of this,” added he, “when you know that these horses, mules, and other animals which you have seen, are so many men, like ourselves, whom she has transformed by her diabolical art.  And when young men, like you, enter the city, she has persons planted to stop and bring them, either by fair means or force, before her.  She receives them in the most obliging manner; caresses them, regales them, lodges them magnificently, and gives them so many reasons to believe that she loves them, that she never fails of success.  But she does not suffer them long to enjoy this happiness.  There is not one of them but she has transformed into some animal or bird at the end of forty days.  You told me all these animals presented themselves to oppose your landing, and hinder you entering the city.  This was the only way in which they could make you comprehend the danger you were going to expose yourself to, and they did all in their power to prevent you.”

This account exceedingly afflicted the young king of Persia:  “Alas!” cried he, “to what extremities has my ill fortune reduced me!  I am hardly freed from one enchantment, which I look back upon with horror, but I find myself exposed to another much more terrible.”  This gave him occasion to relate his story to the old man more at length, and to acquaint him of his birth, quality, his passion for the princess of Samandal, and her cruelty in changing him into a bird the very moment he had seen her and declared his love to her.

When the prince came to speak of his good fortune in finding a queen who broke the enchantment, the old man to encourage him said, “Notwithstanding all I have told you of the magic queen is true, that ought not to give you the least disquiet, since I am generally beloved throughout the city, and am not unknown to the queen herself, who has much respect for me; therefore it was your peculiar good fortune which led you to address yourself to me rather than to anyone else.  You are secure in my house, where I advise you to continue, if you think fit; and, provided you do not stray from hence, I dare assure you, you will have no just cause to complain of my insincerity.”

King Beder thanked the old man for his kind reception, and the protection he was pleased so readily to afford him.  He sat down at the entrance of the shop, where he no sooner appeared, but his youth and good person attracted the eyes of all who passed that way.  Many stopped and complimented the old man on his having acquired so fine a slave, as they imagined the king to be; and they were the more surprised as they could not comprehend how so beautiful a youth could escape the queen’s knowledge.  “Believe not,” said the old man, “this is a slave:  you all know that I am not rich enough nor of rank to have one of this consequence.  He is my nephew, son of a brother of mine who is dead; and as I had no children of my own, I sent for him to keep me company.”  They congratulated his good fortune in having so fine a young man for his relation; but could not help telling him they feared the queen would take him from him.  “You know her well,” said they to him, “and you cannot be ignorant of the danger to which you are exposed, after all the examples you have seen.  How grieved would you be if she should serve him as she has done so many others whom we knew.”

“I am obliged to you,” replied the old man, “for your good will towards me, and I heartily thank you for the care you seem to take of my interest; but I shall never entertain the least thought that the queen will do me any injury, after all the kindness she has professed for me.  In case she happens to hear of this young man, and speaks to me about him, I doubt not she will cease to think of him, as soon as she comes to know he is my nephew.”

The old man was exceedingly glad to hear the commendations they bestowed on the young king of Persia.  He was as much affected with them as if he had been his own son, and he conceived a kindness for him, which augmented every day during the stay he made with him.

They had lived about a month together, when, as King Beder was sitting at the shop-door, after his ordinary manner, Queen Labe (so was this magic queen named) happened to come by with great pomp.  The young king no sooner perceived the guards advancing before her, than he arose, and going into the shop, asked the old man what all that show meant.  “The queen is coming by,” answered he, “but stand still and fear nothing.”

The queen’s guards, clothed in purple uniform, and well armed and mounted, marched to the number of a thousand in four files, with their sabres drawn, and every one of their officers, as they passed by the shop, saluted the old man.  Then followed a like number of eunuchs, habited in brocaded silk, and better mounted, whose officers did the old man the like honour.  Next came as many young ladies on foot, equally beautiful, richly dressed, and ornamented with precious stones.  They marched gravely, with half pikes in their hands; and in the midst of them appeared Queen Labe, on a horse glittering with diamonds, with a golden saddle, and a housing of inestimable value.  All the young ladies saluted the old man as they passed him; and the queen, struck with the good mien of King Beder, stopped as soon as she came before the shop.  “Abdallah,” (so was the old man named) said she to him, “tell me, I beseech thee, does that beautiful and charming slave belong to thee? and hast thou long been in possession of him?”

Abdallah, before he answered the queen, threw himself on the ground, and rising again, said, “Madam, he is my nephew, son of a brother, who has not long been dead.  Having no children, I look upon him as my son, and sent for him to come and comfort me, intending to leave him what I have when I die.”

Queen Labe, who had never yet seen any one to compare with King Beder, began to conceive a passion for him, and thought immediately of getting the old man to abandon him to her.  “Father,” said she, “will you not oblige me so far as to make me a present of this young man?  Do not refuse me, I conjure you; and I swear by the fire and the light, I will make him so great and powerful, that no individual in the world ever arrived at such good fortune.  Although my purpose be to do evil to all mankind, he shall be an exception.  I trust you will grant me what I desire, more on account of the friendship I am assured you have for me, than for the esteem you know I always had, and shall ever have for you.”

“Madam,” replied the good Abdallah, “I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for all the kindness you have for me, and the honours you propose to do my nephew.  He is not worthy to approach so great a queen, and I humbly beseech your majesty to excuse him.”

“Abdallah,” replied the queen, “I all along flattered myself you loved me, and I could never have thought you would have shewn me so much disrespect as to slight my request.  But I here swear once more by the fire and light, and even by whatsoever is most sacred in my religion, that I will pass on no farther till I have conquered your obstinacy.  I understand well what raises your apprehensions; but I promise, you shall never have any occasion to repent having obliged me in so sensible a manner.”

Old Abdallah was exceeding grieved, both on his own account and King Beder’s, at being in a manner forced to obey the queen.  “Madam,” replied he, “I would not willingly have your majesty entertain an ill opinion of the respect I have for you, and my zeal always to contribute whatever I can to oblige you.  I put entire confidence in your royal word, and I do not in the least doubt you will keep it.  I only beg of your majesty, to delay doing this great honour to my nephew till you shall again pass this way.”  “That shall be to-morrow,” said the queen; who inclined her head, as a token of her being pleased, and so went forward towards her palace.

When queen Labe and all her attendants were out of sight, the good Abdallah said to King Beder, “Son” (for so he was wont to call him, for fear of some time or other discovering him when he spoke of him in public), “it has not been in my power, as you may have observed, to refuse the queen what she demanded of me with so much earnestness, to the end I might not force her to employ her magic against both you and myself openly or secretly, and treat you as much from resentment to you as to me with more signal cruelty than all those she has had in her power, as I have already told you.  But I have some reason to believe she will use you well, as she promised me, on account of that particular esteem she professes for me.  This you may have seen by the respect shewn, and the honours paid, me by all her court.  She would be a vile creature indeed, if she should deceive me; but she shall not deceive me unpunished, for I know how to revenge myself.”

These assurances, which appeared very doubtful, were not sufficient to support King Beder’s spirits.  “After all you have told me of this queen’s wickedness,” replied he, “you cannot wonder if I am somewhat fearful to approach her:  I should, it may be, slight all you could tell me of her, and suffer myself to be dazzled by the lustre of grandeur that surrounds her, did I not know by experience what it is to be at the mercy of a sorceress.  The condition I was in, through the enchantment of the Princess Jehaun-ara, and from which I was delivered only to fall almost immediately into the power of another, has made me look upon such a fate with horror.”  His tears hindered him from going on, and sufficiently shewed with what repugnance he beheld himself under the fatal necessity of being delivered to queen Labe.

“Son,” replied old Abdallah, “do not afflict yourself; for though I must own, there is no great stress to be laid upon the promises and oaths of so perfidious a queen, yet I must withal acquaint you, her power extends not to me.  She knows this full well; and that is the reason, and no other, why she pays me so much respect.  I can quickly hinder her from doing you the least harm, if she should be perfidious enough to attempt it.  You may depend upon me, and, provided you follow exactly the advice I shall give you, before I abandon you to her, she shall have no more power over you than she has over myself.”

The magic queen did not fail to pass by the old man’s shop the next day, with the same pomp as the preceding, and Abdallah waited for her with great respect.  “Father,” cried she, “you may judge of my impatience to have your nephew with me, by my punctually coming to remind you of your promise.  I know you are a man of your word, and I cannot think you will break it with me.”

Abdallah, who fell on his face as soon as he saw the queen approaching, rose up when she had done speaking; and as he would have no one hear what he had to say to her, he advanced with great respect as far as her horse’s head, and then said softly, “Puissant queen!  I am persuaded your majesty will not be offended at my seeming unwillingness to trust my nephew with you yesterday, since you cannot be ignorant of the reasons I had for it; but I conjure you to lay aside the secrets of that art which you possess in so wonderful a degree.  I regard my nephew as my own son; and your majesty would reduce me to despair, if you should deal with him as you have done with others.”

“I promise you I will not,” replied the queen; “and I once more repeat the oath I made yesterday, that neither you nor your nephew shall have any cause to be offended at me.  I see plainly,” added she, “you are not yet well enough acquainted with me; you never saw me yet but through my veil; but as I find your nephew deserving of my friendship, I will shew you I am not any ways unworthy of his.”  With that she threw off her veil, and discovered to King Beder, who came near her with Abdallah, an incomparable beauty.  But King Beder was little charmed:  “It is not enough,” said he within himself, “to be beautiful; one’s actions ought to correspond in regularity with one’s features.”

Whilst King Beder was making these reflections with his eyes fixed on queen Labe, the old man turned towards him, and taking him by the arm, presented him to her:  “Madam,” said he, “I beg of your majesty once more to remember he is my nephew, and to let him come and see me sometimes.”  The queen promised he should; and to give a further mark of her gratitude, she caused a bag of a thousand pieces of gold to be given him.  He excused himself at first from receiving them, but she insisted absolutely upon it, and he could not refuse.  She had caused a horse to be brought as richly caparisoned as her own, for the king of Persia.  Whilst he was mounting, “I forgot,” said the queen to Abdallah, “to ask you your nephew’s name; pray how is he called?” He answering his name was Beder (the full moon), her majesty replied, “Surely your ancestors were mistaken, they ought to have given you the name of Shems (the sun).”

When King Beder was mounted, he would have taken his station behind the queen, but she would not suffer him, and made him ride on her left hand.  She looked at Abdallah, and after having made him an inclination with her head, departed.

Instead of observing a satisfaction in the people’s faces, at the sight of their sovereign, King Beder took notice that they looked at her with contempt, and even cursed her.  “The sorceress,” said some, “has got a new subject to exercise her wickedness upon; will heaven never deliver the world from her tyranny?” “Poor stranger!” exclaimed others, “thou art much deceived, if thou thinkest thy happiness will last long.  It is only to render thy fall more terrible, that thou art raised so high.”  These exclamations gave King Beder to understand Abdallah had told him nothing but the truth of Queen Labe; but as it now depended no longer on himself to escape the mischief, he committed himself to the will of heaven.

The magic queen arrived at her palace, immediately alighted, and giving her hand to King Beder, entered with him, accompanied by her women and the officers of her eunuchs.  She herself shewed him all her apartments, where there was nothing to be seen but massive gold, precious stones, and furniture of wonderful magnificence.  When she had carried him into her closet, she led him out into a balcony, from whence he observed a garden of surprising beauty.  King Beder commended all he saw, but nevertheless so that he might not be discovered to be any other than old Abdallah’s nephew.  They discoursed of indifferent matters, till the queen was informed that dinner was served.

The queen and King Beder arose, and went to place themselves at the table, which was of massive gold, and the dishes of the same metal.  They began to eat, but drank hardly at all till the dessert came, when the queen caused a cup to be filled for her with excellent wine.  She took it and drank to King Beder’s health; then without putting it out of her hand, caused it to be filled again, and presented it to him.  King Beder received it with profound respect, and by a very low bow signified to her majesty that he in return drank to her health.

At the same time, ten of Queen Labe’s women entered with musical instruments, with which and their voices they made an agreeable concert, while they continued drinking till late at night.  At length both began so to be heated with wine; that King Beder insensibly forgot he had to do with a magic queen, and looked upon her only as the most beautiful woman he had ever seen.  As soon as the queen perceived she had wrought him to the pitch she desired, she made a sign to her eunuchs and women to retire.

Next morning the queen and King Beder went to the bath; the women who had served the king there, presented him with fine linen and a magnificent habit.  The queen likewise, who was more splendidly dressed than the day before, came to receive him, and they went together to her apartments, where they had a repast brought them, and spent the remainder of the day in walking in the garden and in various other amusements.

Queen Labe treated King Beder after this manner for forty days, as she had been accustomed to do all her lovers.  The fortieth night, as they were in bed together, she, believing he was really asleep, arose without making any noise; but he was awake, and perceiving she had some design upon him watched all her motions.  Being up, she opened a chest, from whence she took a little box full of a yellow powder; taking some of the powder, she laid a train of it across the chamber, and it immediately flowed in a rivulet of water, to the great astonishment of King Beder.  He trembled with fear, but still pretended to sleep.

Queen Labe next took up some of the water in a vessel, poured it into a basin that contained some flour; with which she made a paste, and kneaded it for a long time:  then she mixed with it certain drugs which she took from different boxes, and made a cake, which she put into a covered baking-pan.  As she had taken care first of all to make a good fire, she took some of the coals, and set the pan upon them; and while the cake was baking, she put up the vessels and boxes in their places again; and on her pronouncing certain words, the rivulet disappeared.  When the cake was baked, she took it off the coals, carried it into her closet, and afterwards returned to King Beder, who dissembled so well, that she had not the least suspicion of his having seen what she had done.

King Beder, whom the pleasures and amusements of a court had made to forget his good host Abdallah, began now to think of him again, and believed he had more than ordinary occasion for his advice, after all he had seen the queen do that night.  As soon as he was up, therefore, he expressed a great desire to go and see his uncle, and begged of her majesty to permit him.  “What! my dear Beder,” cried the queen, “are you then already tired, I will not say with living in so superb a palace as mine is, where you must find so many pleasures, but with the company of a queen, who loves you so passionately as I do, and has given you so many marks of affection?”

“Great queen!” answered king Beder, “how can I be tired of so many favours and graces as your majesty perpetually heaps upon me?  So far from it, I desire this permission, madam, purely to go and give my uncle an account of the mighty obligations I have to your majesty.  I must own, likewise, that my uncle loving me so tenderly, as I well know he does, having been absent from him now forty days, I would not give him reason to think, that I consent to remain longer without seeing him.”  “Go,” said the queen, “you have my consent; but you will not be long before you return, if you consider I cannot possibly live without you.”  This said, she ordered him a horse richly caparisoned, and he departed.

Old Abdallah was overjoyed to see king Beder.  Without regard to his quality, he embraced him tenderly, and King Beder returned his embrace, that nobody might doubt but that he was his nephew.  As soon as they were sat down, “well,” said Abdallah to the king, “and how have you passed your time with that abominable sorceress?”

“Hitherto,” answered King Beder, “I must needs own she has been extraordinarily kind to me, and has done all she could to persuade me that she loves me faithfully; but I observed something last night, which gives me just reason to suspect that all her kindness was but dissimulation.  Whilst she thought me asleep, although I was really awake, she stole from me with a great deal of precaution, which made me suspect her intention, and therefore I resolved to watch her, still feigning myself asleep.”  He then related to Abdallah in what manner he had seen her make the cake; and then added, “Hitherto,” said he, “I must needs confess, I had almost forgotten, not only you, but all the advice you gave me concerning the wickedness of this queen; but this last action of hers gives me reason to fear she intends to observe none of her promises or solemn oaths to you.  I thought of you immediately, and I esteem myself happy that I have obtained permission to come to you.”

“You are not mistaken,” replied old Abdallah with a smile, which showed he did not himself believe she would have acted otherwise; “nothing is capable of obliging a perfidious woman to amend.  But fear nothing.  I know how to make the mischief she intends you fall upon herself.  You are alarmed in time; and you could not have done better than to have recourse to me.  It is her ordinary practice to keep her lovers only forty days; and after that time, instead of seeding them home, to turn them into animals, to stock her forests and parks; but I thought of measures yesterday to prevent her doing you the same harm.  The earth has borne this monster long enough, and it is now high time she should be treated as she deserves.”

So saying, Abdallah put two cakes into king Beder’s hands, bidding him keep them to be used as he should direct.  “You told me,” continued he, “the sorceress made a cake last night; it was for you to eat; but do not touch it.  Nevertheless, do not refuse to receive it, when she offers it you; but instead of tasting it, break off part of one of the two I shall give you, unobserved, and eat that.  As soon as she thinks you have swallowed it, she will not fail to attempt transforming you into some animal, but she shall not succeed; when she sees that she has failed, she will immediately turn her proceeding into pleasantry, as if what she had done was only out of joke to frighten you; but she will conceal a mortal grief in her heart, and think she has omitted something in the composition of her cake.  As for the other cake, you shall make a present of it to her, and press her to eat it; which she will not refuse to do, were it only to convince you she does not mistrust you, though she has given you so much reason to mistrust her.  When she has eaten of it, take a little water in the hollow of your hand, and throwing it in her face, say, “Quit that form you now wear, and take that of such or such animal,” as you shall think fit; which done, come to me with the animal, and I will tell you what you shall do afterwards.”

King Beder expressed to Abdallah, in the warmest terms, his great obligations to him, for his endeavours to defend him from the power of a pestilent sorceress; and after some further conversation took his leave of him, and returned to the palace.  Upon his arrival, he understood that the queen waited for him with great impatience in the garden.  He went to her, and she no sooner perceived him, than she came in great haste to meet him.  “My dear Beder!” exclaimed she, “it is said, with a great deal of reason, that nothing more forcibly shews the excess of love than absence from the object beloved.  I have had no quiet since I saw you, and it seems ages since I have been separated from you.  If you had stayed ever so little longer, I was preparing to come and fetch you once more to my arms.”

“Madam,” replied king Beder, “I can assure your majesty, I was no less impatient to rejoin you; but I could not refuse to stay with an uncle who loves me, and had not seen me for so long a time.  He would have kept me still longer, but I tore myself away from him, to come where love calls me.  Of all the collations he prepared for me, I have only brought away this cake, which I desire your majesty to accept.”  King Beder, having wrapped up one of the two cakes in a handkerchief, took it out, and presented it to the queen, saying, “I beg your majesty to accept of it.”

“I do accept it with all my heart,” replied the queen, receiving it, “and will eat it with pleasure for yours and your good uncle’s sake; but before I taste of it, I desire you will, for my sake, eat a piece of this, which I have made for you during your absence.”  “Fair queen,” answered king Beder, receiving it with great respect, “such hands as your majesty’s can never make anything but what is excellent, and I cannot sufficiently acknowledge the favour you do me.”

King Beder then artfully substituted in the place of the queen’s cake the other which old Abdallah had given him, and having broken off a piece, he put it in his mouth, and cried, while he was eating, “Ah! queen, I never tasted anything so excellent in my life.”  They being near a cascade, the sorceress seeing him swallow one bit of the cake, and ready to eat another, took a little water in the palm of her hand, and throwing it in the king’s face, said, “Wretch! quit that form of a man, and take that of a vile horse, blind and lame.”

These words not having the desired effect, the sorceress was strangely surprised to find King Beder still in the same form, and that he only started for fear.  Her cheeks reddened; and as she saw that she had missed her aim, “Dear Beder,” cried she, “this is nothing; recover yourself.  I did not intend you any harm; I only did it to see what you would say.  I should be the most miserable and most execrable of women, should I attempt so black a deed; not only on account of all the oaths I have sworn, but also of the many testimonies of love I have given you.”

“Puissant queen,” replied King Beder, “persuaded as I am, that what your majesty did was only to divert yourself, I could not help being surprised.  What could hinder me from being a little moved at the pronouncing of so strange a transformation?  But, madam,” continued he, “let us drop this discourse; and since I have eaten of your cake, would you do me the favour to taste mine?”

Queen Labe, who could not better justify herself than by showing this mark of confidence in the king of Persia, broke off a piece of his cake and ate it.  She had no sooner swallowed it than she appeared much troubled, and remained as it were motionless.  King Beder lost no time, but took water out of the same basin, and throwing it in her face, cried, “Abominable sorceress! quit the form of woman, and be turned instantly into a mare.”

The same moment, Queen Labe was transformed into a very beautiful mare; and her confusion was so great to find herself in that condition, that she shed tears in great abundance.  She bowed her head to the feet of King Beder, thinking to move him to compassion; but though he could have been so moved, it was absolutely out of his power to repair the mischief he had done.  He led her into the stable belonging to the palace, and put her into the hands of a groom, to bridle and saddle; but of all the bridles which the groom tried upon her, not one would fit.  This made him cause two horses to be saddled, one for the groom and the other for himself; and the groom led the mare after him to old Abdallah’s.

Abdallah seeing at a distance King Beder coming with the mare, doubted not but he had done what he had advised him.  “Cursed sorceress!” said he immediately to himself in a transport of joy, “heaven has at length punished thee as thou deservest.”  King Beder alighted at Abdallah’s door and entered with him into the shop, embracing and thanking him for all the signal services he had done him.  He related to him the whole matter, with all its circumstances, and moreover told him, he could find no bridle fit for the mare.  Abdallah bridled the mare himself, and as soon as King Beder had sent back the groom with the two horses, he said to him, “My lord, you have no reason to stay any longer in this city:  mount the mare, and return to your kingdom.  I have but one thing more to recommend to you; and that is, if you should ever happen to part with the mare, be sure not to give up the bridle.”  King Beder promised to remember this; and having taken leave of the good old man, he departed.

The young king of Persia had no sooner got out of the city, than he began to reflect with joy on his deliverance, and that he had the sorceress in his power, who had given him so much cause to tremble.  Three days after he arrived at a great city, where, entering the suburbs, he met a venerable old man, walking towards a pleasure-house.  “Sir,” said the old man, stopping him, “may I presume to ask from what part of the world you come?” The king halted to satisfy him, and as they were conversing together, an old woman came up; who, stopping likewise, wept and sighed heavily at the sight of the mare.

King Beder and the old man left off discoursing, to look at the old woman, whom the king asked, what cause she had to be so much afflicted?  “Alas! sir,” replied she, “it is because your mare resembles so perfectly one my son had, and which I still mourn the loss of on his account, and should think yours were the same, did I not know she was dead.  Sell her to me, I beseech you; I will give you more than she is worth and thank you too.’

“Good woman,” replied King Beder, “I am heartily sorry I cannot comply with your request:  my mare is not to be sold.”  “Alas! sir,” continued the old woman, “do not refuse me this favour for the love of God.  My son and I shall certainly die with grief, if you do not grant it.”  “Good mother,” replied the king, “I would grant it with all my heart, if I were disposed to part with so good a beast; but if I were so disposed, I believe you would hardly give a thousand pieces of gold for her, and I could not sell her for less.”  “Why should I not give so much?” replied the old woman:  “if that be the lowest price, you need only say you will take it, and I will fetch you the money.”

King Beder, seeing the old woman so poorly dressed, could not imagine she could find such a sum; and said, to try her, “Go, fetch me the money, and the mare is yours.”  The old woman immediately unloosed a purse she carried fastened to her girdle, and desiring him to alight, bade him tell over the money, and in case he found it came short of the sum demanded, she said her house was not far off; and she could quickly fetch the rest.

The surprise of King Beder, at the sight of the purse, was not small.  “Good woman,” said he, “do you not perceive I have bantered you all this while?  I assure you my mare is not to be sold.”

The old man, who had been witness to all that had passed, now began to speak.  “Son,” said he to King Beder, “it is necessary you should know one thing, which I find you are ignorant of; and that is, that in this city it is not permitted to any one to tell a lie, on any account whatsoever, on pain of death.  You cannot refuse taking this good woman’s money, and delivering your mare, when she gives you the sum according to the agreement; and this you had better do without any noise, than expose yourself to what may ensue.”

King Beder, mortified to find himself thus trapped by his rash proffer, alighted with great regret.  The old woman stood ready to seize the reins, immediately unbridled the mare, and taking some water in her hand, from a stream that ran in the middle of the street, threw it in the mare’s face, uttering these words, “Daughter, quit that strange shape, and re-assume thy own.”  The transformation was effected in a moment, and king Beder, who swooned as soon as he saw Queen Labe appear, would have fallen to the ground, if the old man had not hindered him.

The old woman, who was the mother of queen Labe, and had instructed her in all her magic secrets, had no sooner embraced her daughter, than to shew her fury, she in an instant by whistling, caused to rise a genie of a gigantic form and stature.  This genie immediately took King Beder on one shoulder, and the old woman with the magic queen on the other, and transported them in a few minutes to the palace of Queen Labe in the City of Enchantments.

The magic queen immediately fell upon King Beder, reproaching him violently.  “Is it thus,” said she, “ungrateful wretch! that thy unworthy uncle and thou repay me for all the kindnesses I have done you?  I shall soon make you both feel what you deserve.”  She said no more, but taking water in her hand, threw it in his face with these words, “Quit the form of man, and take that of an owl.”  These words were soon followed by the effect, and immediately she commanded one of her women to shut up the owl in a cage, and give him neither meat nor drink.

The woman took the cage, but without regarding what the queen had ordered, gave him both meat and drink; and being old Abdallah’s friend, sent him word privately how the queen had treated his nephew, and apprised him of her design to destroy both him and King Beder, that he might take measures to prevent her intentions, and secure himself.

Abdallah knew no common means would do with Queen Labe:  he therefore whistled in a peculiar manner, and there immediately arose a giant, with four wings, who presenting himself before him, asked what he would have?  “Lightning,” said Abdallah to him (for so was the genie called), “I command you to preserve the life of King Beder, son of Queen Gulnare.  Go to the palace of the magic queen, and transport immediately to the capital of Persia the compassionate woman who has the cage in custody, to the end she may inform Queen Gulnare of the danger the king her son is in, and the occasion he has for her assistance.  Take care not to frighten her when you come before her, and acquaint her from me what she ought to do.”

Lightning immediately disappeared, and in an instant reached the palace of the magic queen.  He instructed the woman, lifted her up into the air, and transported her to the capital of Persia, where he placed her on the terrace of Gulnare’s palace.  She descended into her apartment, and there found Queen Gulnare and Queen Farasche her mother lamenting their mutual misfortunes.  She made them a profound reverence, and by the relation she gave them, they soon understood the great need King Beder had of their assistance.

Queen Gulnare was so overjoyed at the news, that rising from her seat, she went and embraced the good woman, telling her how much she was obliged to her for the service she had done her.  Then going immediately out, she commanded the trumpets to sound, and the drums to beat, to acquaint the city, that the king of Persia would suddenly return safe to his kingdom.  She then went, and found King Saleh her brother, whom Farasche had caused to come speedily thither by a certain fumigation.  “Brother,” said she to him, “the king your nephew, my dear son, is in the City of Enchantments, under the power of Queen Labe.  Both you and I must go to deliver him, for there is no time to be lost.”

King Saleh forthwith assembled a puissant body of his marine troops, who soon rose out of the sea.  He also called to his assistance the genii his allies, who appeared with a much more numerous army than his own.  As soon as the two armies were joined, he put himself at the head of them, with Queen Farasche, Queen Gulnare, and the princesses, who would all have their share in this enterprize.  They then ascended into the air, and soon poured down on the palace and City of Enchantments, where the magic queen, her mother, and all the adorers of fire, were destroyed in an instant.

Queen Gulnare had ordered the woman who brought the account of queen Labe’s transforming and imprisoning her son, to follow her close, and bade her, in the confusion, go and seize the cage, and bring it to her.  This order was executed as she wished, and queen Gulnare was no sooner in possession of the cage, than she opened it, and took out the owl, saying, as she sprinkled a little water upon him, “My dear son, quit that strange form, and resume thy natural one of a man.”

In a moment Queen Gulnare, instead of the hideous owl, beheld King Beder her son.  She immediately embraced him with an excess of joy, her tears supplying more forcibly the place of words.  She could not let him go; and Queen Farasche was obliged to force him from her in her turn.  After her, he was likewise embraced by the king his uncle and his relations.

Queen Gulnare’s first care was to look out for old Abdallah, to whom she had been obliged for the recovery of the king of Persia; and who being brought to her, she said to him, “My obligations to you have been so great, that there is nothing within my power but I would freely do for you, as a token of my acknowledgment.  Do but inform me in what I can serve you.”  “Great queen,” replied Abdallah, “if the lady whom I sent to your majesty will but consent to the marriage I offer her, and the king of Persia will give me leave to reside at his court, I will spend the remainder of my days in his service.”  The queen then turned to the lady who was present, and finding by her modest shame that she was not averse to the match proposed, she caused them to join hands, and the king of Persia and she took care of their fortune.

This marriage occasioned the king of Persia to speak thus to the queen:  “Madam,” said he, “I am heartily glad of this match which your majesty has just made.  There remains one more, which I desire you to think of.”  Queen Gulnare did not at first comprehend what marriage he meant; but after a little considering, she said, “Of yours, you mean, son.  I consent to it with all my heart.”  Then turning, and looking at her brother’s sea attendants, and the genii who were still present, “Go,” said she, “and traverse both sea and land, to seek the most lovely and amiable princess, worthy of the king my son, and when you have found her, come and tell us.”

“Madam,” replied king Beder, “it is to no purpose for them to take all that trouble.  You have no doubt heard that I have already given my heart to the princess of Samandal upon the bare relation of her beauty.  I have seen her, and do not repent of the present I then made her.  In a word, neither earth nor sea, in my opinion, can furnish a princess like her.  It is true upon my declaring my love, she treated me in a way that would have extinguished any flame less strong than mine.  But I hold her excused; she could not treat me with less rigour, after your imprisoning the king her father, of which I was the innocent cause.  But the king of Samandal may, perhaps, have changed his resolution; and his daughter the princess may consent to love me, when she sees her father has agreed to it.”

“Son,” replied queen Gulnare, “if only the Princess Jehaun-ara can make you happy, it is not my design to oppose you.  The king your uncle need only have the king of Samandal brought, and we shall see whether he be still of the same untractable temper.”

Strictly as the king of Samandal had been kept during his captivity by King Saleh’s orders, yet he always had great respect shewn him.  King Saleh caused a chafing-dish of coals to be brought, into which he threw a certain composition, uttering at the same time some mysterious words.  As soon as the smoke began to arise, the palace shook, and immediately the king of Samandal, with King Saleh’s officers, appeared.  The king of Persia cast himself at the king of Samandal’s feet, and, kneeling, said, “It is no longer King Saleh that demands of your majesty the honour of your alliance for the king of Persia; it is the king of Persia himself that humbly begs that boon; and I persuade myself your majesty will not persist in being the cause of the death of a king, who can no longer live if he does not share life with the amiable Princess Jehaun-ara.”

The king of Samandal did not long suffer the king of Persia to remain at his feet.  He embraced him, and obliging him to rise, said, “I shall be sorry to have contributed in the least to the death of a monarch who is so worthy to live.  If it be true that so precious a life cannot be preserved without the possession of my daughter, live, sir, she is yours.  She has always been obedient to my will, and I cannot think she will now oppose it.”  Speaking these words, he ordered one of his officers, whom King Saleh had permitted to attend him, to go for the princess, and bring her to him immediately.

The princess continued where the king of Persia had left her.  The officer perceived her, and brought her soon with her women.  The king of Samandal embraced her, and said, “Daughter, I have provided a husband for you; it is the king of Persia, the most accomplished monarch at present in the universe.  The preference he has given you over all other princesses obliges us both to express our gratitude.”

“Sir,” replied the princess Jehaun-ara, “your majesty well knows I never have presumed to disobey your will:  I shall always be ready to obey you; and I hope the king of Persia will forget my ill treatment of him, and consider it was duty, not inclination, that forced me to it.”

The nuptials were celebrated in the palace of the City of Enchantments, with the greatest solemnity, as all the lovers of the magic queen, who had resumed their pristine forms as soon as she ceased to live, assisted at them, and came to return their thanks to the king of Persia, Queen Gulnare, and King Saleh.  They were all sons of kings, princes, or persons of high rank.

King Saleh conducted the king of Samandal to his dominions, and put him again in possession of his throne.  The king of Persia, at the height of his wishes, returned to his capital with Queen Gulnare, Queen Farasche, and the princesses; the Queen Farasche and the princesses continued there till King Saleh came to reconduct them to his kingdom under the waves of the sea.

Thehistory of prince Zeyn Alasnam and
the sultan of the genii.

A sultan of Bussorah, who possessed great wealth, and was well beloved by his subjects, had no children, which occasioned him great affliction; and therefore he made presents to all the holy persons in his dominions, to engage them to beg a son for him of Heaven:  and their prayers being effectual, the queen proved with child, and was happily delivered of a prince who was named Zeyn Alasnam, which signifies Ornament of the Statues.

The sultan caused all the astrologers in his kingdom to be assembled, and ordered them to calculate the infant’s nativity.  They found by their observations that he would live long, and be very brave; but that all his courage would be little enough to carry him through the misfortunes that threatened him.  The sultan was not daunted at this prediction:  “My son,” said he, “is not to be pitied, since he will be brave:  it is fit that princes should have a taste of misfortunes; for adversity tries virtue, and they are the better qualified to reign.”

He rewarded the astrologers, and dismissed them; and caused Zeyn to be educated with the greatest care, appointing him able masters as soon as he was of age to receive their instructions.  In short, he proposed to make him an accomplished prince, when on a sudden this good sultan fell sick of a disorder, which all the skill of his physicians could not cure.  Perceiving his disease was mortal, he sent for his son, and among other things advised him rather to endeavour to be loved, than to be feared by his people; not to give ear to flatterers; to be as slow in rewarding as in punishing, because it often happens that monarchs misled by false appearances, load wicked men with favours, and oppress the innocent.

As soon as the sultan was dead, prince Zeyn went into mourning, which he wore seven days, and on the eighth he ascended the throne, taking his father’s seal off the royal treasury, and putting on his own, beginning thus to taste the sweets of ruling, the pleasure of seeing all his courtiers bow down before him, and make it their whole study to shew their zeal and obedience.  In a word, the sovereign power was too agreeable to him.  He only regarded what his subjects owed to him, without considering what was his duty towards them, and consequently took little care to govern them well.  He revelled in all sorts of debauchery among the voluptuous youth, on whom he conferred the prime employments in the kingdom.  He lost all command of his power.  Being naturally prodigal, he set no bounds to his grants, so that his women and his favourites insensibly drained his treasury.

The queen his mother was still living, a discreet, wise princess.  She had several times unsuccessfully tried to check her son’s prodigality and debauchery, giving him to understand, that, if he did not soon take another course, he would not only squander his wealth, but also alienate the minds of his people, and occasion some revolution, which perhaps might cost him his crown and his life.  What she had predicted had nearly happened:  the people began to murmur against the government, and their murmurs had certainly been followed by a general revolt, had not the queen had the address to prevent it.  That princess being acquainted with the ill posture of affairs, informed the sultan, who at last suffered himself to be prevailed upon.  He committed the government to discreet aged men, who knew how to keep the people within the bounds of duty.

Zeyn, seeing all his wealth consumed, repented that he had made no better use of it.  He fell into a profound melancholy, and nothing could comfort him.  One night he saw in a dream a venerable old man coming towards him, who with a smiling countenance said, “Know, Zeyn, that there is no sorrow but what is followed by mirth, no misfortune but what in the end brings some happiness.  If you desire to see the end of your affliction, set out for Egypt, go to Grand Cairo, where great prosperity awaits you.”

The young sultan was struck with his dream, and spoke of it very seriously to his mother, who only laughed at it.  “My son,” said she to him, “would you go into Egypt on the faith of an illusive dream?” “Why not, madam,” answered Zeyn, “do you imagine all dreams are chimerical?  No, no, some of them are mysterious.  My preceptors have told me a thousand incidents, which will not permit me to doubt of it.  Besides, though I were not otherwise convinced, I could not forbear giving some credit to my dreams.  The old man who appeared to me had something supernatural, he was not one of those men whom nothing but age makes venerable; there appeared a divine air about his person.  In short, he was such a one as our great prophet is represented; and if you will have me tell you what I think, I believe it was he, who, pitying my affliction, designs to relieve it.  I rely on the confidence he has inspired me with.  I am full of his promises, and have resolved to follow his advice.”  The queen endeavoured to dissuade him, but in vain.  The sultan committed to her the government of the kingdom, set out one night very privately from his palace, and took the road to Cairo, without suffering any person to attend him.

After much trouble and fatigue, he arrived at that famous city, like which there are few in the world, either for extent or beauty.  He alighted at the gate of a mosque, where, being spent with weariness, he lay down.  No sooner was he fallen asleep, than he saw the same old man, who said to him, “I am pleased with you, my son, you have given credit to my words.  You are come hither, without being deterred by the length or the difficulties of the way:  but know I have not put you upon undertaking such a long journey, with any other design than to try you.  I find you have courage and resolution.  You deserve I should make you the richest and happiest prince in the world.  Return to Bussorah, and you shall find immense wealth in your palace.  No king ever possessed so rich a treasure.”

The sultan was not pleased with this dream.  “Alas!” thought he to himself, when he awoke, “how much was I mistaken?  That old man, whom I took for our prophet, is no other than the production of my disturbed imagination.  My fancy was so full of him, that it is no wonder I have seen him again.  I had best return to Bussorah; what should I do here any longer?  It is fortunate that I told none but my mother the motive of my journey:  I should become a jest to my people, if they knew it.”

Accordingly, he set out again for his kingdom, and as soon as he arrived there, the queen asked him, whether he returned well pleased?  He told her all that had happened, and was so much concerned for having been so credulous, that the queen, instead of adding to his vexation, by reproving or laughing at him, comforted him.  “Forbear afflicting yourself, my son,” said she; “if God has appointed you riches, you will have them without any trouble.  Be contented; all that I recommend to you is, to be virtuous; renounce the delights of dancing, music, and wine:  shun all these pleasures, they have already almost ruined you; apply yourself to make your subjects happy; by securing their happiness, you will establish your own.”

Sultan Zeyn vowed that he would for the future follow his mother’s advice, and be directed by the wise viziers she had chosen to assist him in supporting the weight of government.  But the very night after he returned to his palace, he saw the old man the third time in a dream, who said to him, “The time of your prosperity is come, brave Zeyn:  to-morrow morning, as soon as you are up, take a little pick-axe, and dig in the late sultan’s closet; you will there find a rich treasure.”

As soon as the sultan awoke, he got up, ran to the queen’s apartment, and with much eagerness told her the new dream of that night.  “Really, my son,” said the queen smiling, “this is a very positive old man; he is not satisfied with having deceived you twice:  have you a mind to believe him again?” “No, madam,” answered Zeyn, “I give no credit to what he has said; but I will, for my own satisfaction, search my father’s closet.”  “I really fancied so,” cried the queen, laughing heartily:  “go, my son, satisfy yourself; my comfort is, that work is not so fatiguing as the journey to Egypt.”

“Well madam,” answered the sultan, “I must own, that this third dream has restored my confidence, for it is connected with the two others; let us examine the old man’s words.  He first directed me to go into Egypt; there he told me, he had put me upon taking that journey, only to try me.  ‘Return to Bussorah,’ said he, ‘that is the place where you are to find treasures;’ this night he has exactly pointed out to me the place where they are:  these three dreams in my opinion, are connected.  After all, they may be chimerical:  but I would rather search in vain, than blame myself as long as I live, for having perhaps missed great riches, by being unseasonably incredulous.”

Having spoken thus, he left the queen’s apartment, caused a pick-axe to be brought him, and went alone into the late sultan’s closet.  He immediately began to break up the ground, and took up above half the square stones it was paved with, but yet saw not the least appearance of what he sought.  He ceased working to take a little rest, thinking within himself, “I am much afraid my mother had cause enough to laugh at me.”  However, he took heart, and went on with his labour, nor had he cause to repent; for on a sudden he discovered a white slab, which he took up, and under it found a door, made fast with a steel padlock, which he broke with the pick-axe, and opened the door, which covered a staircase of white marble.  He immediately lighted a lamp, and went down the stairs into a room, the floor whereof was laid with tiles of chinaware, and the roof and walls were of crystal; but he particularly fixed his eyes on four shelves, a little raised above the rest of the floor, on each of which were ten urns of porphyry.  He fancied they were full of wine:  “Well,” said he, “that wine must be very old, I do not question but it is excellent.”  He went up to one of the urns, took off the cover, and with no less joy than surprise perceived it was full of pieces of gold.  He searched all the forty, one after another, and found them full of the same coin, took out a handful, and carried it to the queen.

The princess, it may be imagined, was amazed, when the sultan gave her an account of what he had discovered.  “O! my son,” said she, “take heed you do not lavish away all this wealth foolishly, as you have already done the royal treasure.  Let not your enemies have so much occasion to rejoice.”  “No, madam,” answered Zeyn, “I will from henceforward live in such a manner as shall be pleasing to you.”

The queen desired her son to conduct her to the wonderful subterraneous place, which the late sultan her husband had made with such secrecy, that she had never heard of it.  Zeyn led her to the closet, down the marble stairs, and into the chamber where the urns were.  She observed every thing with the eye of curiosity, and in a corner spied a little urn of the same sort of stone as the others.  The prince had not before taken notice of it, but opening, found in it a golden key.  “My son,” said the queen, “this key certainly belongs to some other treasure; let us search well, perhaps we may discover the use it is designed for.”

They examined the chamber with the utmost exactness, and at length found a key-hole in one of the panels of the wall.  The sultan immediately tried, and as readily opened the door, which led into a chamber, in the midst of which were nine pedestals of massive gold, on eight of which stood as many statues, each of them made of a single diamond, and from them darted such a brightness, that the whole room was perfectly light.

“O Heavens!” cried Zeyn, in astonishment, “where could my father find such rarities?” The ninth pedestal redoubled this amazement, for it was covered with a piece of white satin, on which were written these words, “Dear son, it cost me much toil to procure these eight statues; but though they are extraordinarily beautiful, you must understand that there is a ninth in the world, which surpasses them all:  that alone is worth more than a thousand such as these:  if you desire to be master of it, go to the city of Cairo in Egypt; one of my old slaves, whose name is Mobarec, lives there, you will easily find him; the first person you meet will shew you his house; visit him, and tell him all that has befallen you:  he will know you to be my son, and conduct you to the place where that wonderful statue is, which you will obtain with safety.”

The young sultan having read these words, said to the queen, “I should be sorry to be without that ninth statue; it must certainly be a very rare piece, since all these together are not of so much value.  I will set out for Grand Cairo; nor do I believe, madam, that you will now oppose my design.”  “No, my son,” answered the queen, “I am not against it:  you are certainly under the special protection of our great prophet, he will not suffer you to perish in this journey.  Set out when you think fit:  your viziers and I will take care of the government during your absence.”  The prince made ready his equipage, but would take only a small number of slaves with him.

Nothing remarkable befell him by the way, but arriving at Cairo, he inquired for Mobarec.  The people told him he was one of the wealthiest inhabitants of the city; that he lived like a great lord, and that his house was open, especially for strangers.  Zeyn was conducted thither, knocked at the gate, which a slave opened, and demanded, “What is it you want, and who are you?” “I am a stranger,” answered the prince, “and having heard much of the lord Mobarec’s generosity, am come to take up my lodging with him.”  The slave desired Zeyn to wait while he went to acquaint his master, who ordered him to request the stranger to walk in.  The slave returned to the gate, and told the prince he was welcome.

Zeyn went in, crossed a large court, and entered a hall magnificently furnished, where Mobarec expected him, and received him very courteously, returning thanks for the honour he did him in accepting a lodging in his house.  The prince, having answered his compliment, said to Mobarec, “I am the son of the late sultan of Bussorah, and my name is Zeyn Alasnam.”  “That sovereign,” said Mobarec, “was formerly my master; but, my lord, I never knew of any children he had:  what is your age?” “I am twenty years old,” answered the sultan.  “How long is it since you left my father’s court?” “Almost two-and-twenty years,” replied Mobarec; “but how can you convince me that you are his son?” “My father,” rejoined Zeyn, “had a subterraneous place under his closet, in which I have found forty porphyry urns full of gold.”  “And what more is there?” said Mobarec.  “There are,” answered the prince, “nine pedestals of massive gold:  on eight whereof are as many diamond statues; and on the ninth a piece of white satin, on which my father has written what I am to do to procure another statue, more valuable than all those together.  You know where that statue is; for it is mentioned on the satin, that you will conduct me to it.”

As soon as he had spoke these words, Mobarec fell down at his feet, and kissing one of his hands several times, said, “I bless God for having brought you hither:  I know you to be the sultan of Bussorah’s son.  If you will go to the place where the wonderful statue is, I will conduct you; but you must first rest here a few days.  This day I treat the great men of the court; we were at table when word was brought me of your being at the door.  Will you vouchsafe to come and be merry with us?” “I shall be very glad,” replied Zeyn, “to be admitted to your feast.”  Mobarec immediately led him under a dome where the company was, seated him at the table, and served him on the knee.  The nobles of Cairo were surprised, and whispered to one another, “Who is this stranger, to whom Mobarec pays so much respect?”

When they had dined, Mobarec directing his discourse to the company, said, “Nobles of Cairo, do not think much to see me serve this young stranger in this manner:  know that he is the son of the sultan of Bussorah, my master.  His father purchased me, and died without making me free; so that I am still a slave, and consequently all I have of right belongs to this young prince, his sole heir.”  Here Zeyn interrupted him:  “Mobarec,” said he, “I declare, before all these lords, that I make you free from this moment, and that I renounce all right to your person, and all you possess.  Consider what you would have me do more for you.”  Mobarec kissed the ground, and returned the prince most hearty thanks.  Wine was then brought in, they drank all day, and towards evening presents were distributed among the guests, who departed.

The next day Zeyn said to Mobarec, “I have taken rest enough.  I came not to Cairo to take my pleasure; my design is to obtain the ninth statue; it is time for us to set out in search of it.”  “Sir,” said Mobarec, “I am ready to comply with your desires; but you know not what dangers you must encounter to make this precious acquisition.”  “Whatsoever the danger may be,” answered the prince, “I have resolved to make the attempt; I will either perish or succeed.  All that happens in this world is by God’s direction.  Do you but bear me company, and let your resolution be equal to mine.”

Mobarec, finding him determined to set out, called his servants, and ordered them to make ready his equipage.  The prince and he then performed the ablution, and the prayer enjoined, which is called Farz; and that done, they set out.  On their way they took notice of abundance of strange and wonderful things, and travelled many days, at length, being come to a delightful spot, they alighted from their horses.  Mobarec then said to all the servants that attended them, “Do you remain in this place, and take care of our equipage till we return.”  Then he said to Zeyn, “Now, sir, let us advance by ourselves.  We are near the dreadful place, where the ninth statue is kept.  You will stand in need of all your courage.”

They soon came to a vast lake:  Mobarec set down on the brink of it, saying to the prince, “We must cross this sea.”  “How can we,” answered Zeyn, “when we have no boat?” “You will see one appear in a moment,” replied Mobarec; “the enchanted boat of the sultan of the genii will come for us.  But do not forget what I am going to say to you:  you must observe a profound silence:  do not speak to the boatman, though his figure seem strange to you:  whatever extraordinary circumstance you observe, say nothing; for I tell you beforehand, that if you utter one word when we are embarked, the boat will sink.”  “I shall take care to hold my peace,” said the prince; “you need only tell me what I am to do, and I will strictly comply.”

Whilst they were talking, he spied on a sudden a boat in the lake, made of red sandal wood.  It had a mast of fine amber, and a blue satin flag:  there was only one boatman in it, whose head was like an elephant’s, and his body like that of a tiger.  When the boat was come up to the prince and Mobarec, the monstrous boatman took them up one after another with his trunk, put them into his boat, and carried them over the lake in a moment.  He then again took them up with his trunk, set them ashore, and immediately vanished with his boat.

“Now we may talk,” said Mobarec:  “the island we are in belongs to the sultan of the genii.  Look round you, prince; can there be a more delightful spot?  It is certainly a lively representation of the charming place God has appointed for the faithful observers of our law.  Behold the fields adorned with all sorts of flowers and odoriferous plants:  admire those beautiful trees whose delicious fruit makes the branches bend down to the ground; enjoy the pleasure of those harmonious songs formed in the air by a thousand birds of as many various sorts, unknown in other countries.”  Zeyn could not sufficiently admire the beauties with which he was surrounded, and still found something new, as he advanced farther into the island.

At length they came before a palace built of emeralds, encompassed by a wide moat, on the banks whereof, at certain distances, were planted such tall trees, that they shaded the whole palace.  Before the gate, which was of massive gold, was a bridge, formed of one single shell of a fish, though it was at least six fathoms long, and three in breadth.  At the head of the bridge stood a company of genii, of a prodigious height, who guarded the entrance into the castle with great clubs of China steel.

“Let us at present proceed no farther,” said Mobarec, “these genii will destroy us:  and in order to prevent their coming to us, we must perform a magical ceremony.”  He then drew out of a purse which he had under his garment, four long slips of yellow taffety; one he put about his middle, and laid the other on his back, giving the other two to the prince, who did the like.  Then Mobarec laid on the ground two large table-cloths, on the edges whereof he scattered some precious stones, musk, and amber.  Afterwards he sat down on one of the cloths, and Zeyn on the other; and Mobarec said to the prince, “I shall now, sir, conjure the sultan of the genii, who lives in the palace that is before us; may he come in a peaceable mood to us!  I confess I am not without apprehension about the reception he may give us.  If our coming into this island is displeasing to him, he will appear in the shape of a dreadful monster; but if he approves of your design, he will shew himself in the shape of a handsome man.  As soon as he appears before us, you must rise and salute him, without going off your cloth; for you would certainly perish, should you stir from it.  You must say to him, ’Sovereign lord of the genii, my father, who was your servant, has been taken away by the angel of death; I wish your majesty may protect me, as you always protected my father.’  If the sultan of the genii,” added Mobarec, “ask you what favour you desire of him, you must answer, ‘I most humbly beg of you to give me the ninth statue.’”

Mobarec, having thus instructed prince Zeyn, began his conjuration.  Immediately their eyes were dazzled by a long flash of lightning, which was followed by a clap of thunder.  The whole island was covered with a thick darkness, a furious storm of wind blew, a dreadful cry was heard, the island felt a shock, and there was such an earthquake, as that which Asrayel is to cause on the day of judgment.

Zeyn was startled, and began to regard these concussions of the elements as a very ill omen, when Mobarec, who knew better than he what to judge, began to smile, and said, “Take courage, my prince, all goes well.”  In short, that very moment, the sultan of the genii appeared in the shape of a very handsome man, yet there was something of a sternness in his air.

As soon as sultan Zeyn had made him the compliment he had been taught by Mobarec, the sultan of the genii smiling, answered, “My son, I loved your father, and every time he came to pay me his respects, I presented him with a statue, which he carried away with him.  I have no less kindness for you.  I obliged your father, some days before he died, to write that which you read on the piece of white satin.  I promised him to receive you under my protection, and to give you the ninth statue, which in beauty surpasses those you have already.  I had begun to perform my promise to him.  It was I whom you saw in a dream in the shape of an old man; I caused you to open the subterraneous place, where the urns and the statues are deposited:  I have a great share in all that has befallen you, or rather am the occasion of all.  I know the motive that brought you hither; you shall obtain what you desire.  Though I had not promised your father to give it, I would willingly grant it to you:  but you must first swear to me by all that is sacred, that you will return to this island, and that you will bring me a maid who is in her fifteenth year, has never loved, nor desired to.  She must also be perfectly beautiful:  and you so much a master of yourself, as not even to desire her as you are conducting her hither.”

Sultan Zeyn took the rash oath demanded of him.  “But, my lord,” said he, “suppose I should be so fortunate as to meet with such a maid as you require, how shall I know that I have found her?” “I own,” answered the sultan of the genii, smiling, “that you might be mistaken in her appearance:  that knowledge is above the sons of Adam, and therefore I do not mean to depend upon your judgment in that particular:  I will give you a looking-glass which will be more certain than your conjectures.  When you shall have seen a maiden fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, you need only look into the glass in which you shall see her figure.  If she be chaste, the glass will remain clean and unsullied; but if, on the contrary, it sullies, that will be a certain sign that she has not always been prudent, or at least that she has desired to cease to be so.  Do not forget the oath you have taken:  keep it like a man of honour; otherwise I will take away your life, notwithstanding the kindness I have for you.”  Zeyn Alasnam protested again that he would faithfully keep his word.  The sultan of the genii then delivered to him a looking-glass, saying, “My son, you may return when you please, there is the glass you are to use.”  Zeyn and Mobarec took leave of the sultan of the genii, and went towards the lake.  The boatman with the elephant’s head brought the boat, and ferried them over the lake as he had done before.  They joined their servants, and returned with them again to Cairo.

The young sultan rested a few days at Mobarec’s house, and then said to him, “Let us go to Bagdad, to seek a maiden for the sovereign of the genii.”  “Why, are we not at Grand Cairo?” said Mobarec:  “shall we not there find beautiful maidens?” “You are in the right,” answered the prince; “but how shall we explore where they are?” “Do not trouble yourself about that,” answered Mobarec; “I know a very shrewd old woman, whom I will entrust with the affair, and she will acquit herself well.”

Accordingly the old woman found means to shew the sultan a considerable number of beautiful maidens of fifteen years of age; but when he had viewed them, and came to consult his looking-glass, the fatal touchstone of their virtue, the glass always appeared sullied.  All the maidens in the court and city, who were in their fifteenth year, underwent the trial one after another, but the glass never remained bright and clear.

When they saw there were no chaste maidens to be found in Cairo, they went to Bagdad, where they hired a magnificent palace in one of the chief quarters of the city, and began to live splendidly.  They kept open house; and after all people had eaten in the palace, the fragments were carried to the dervises, who by that means had comfortable subsistence.

There lived in that quarter a pedant, whose name was Boubekir Muezin, a vain, haughty, and envious person:  he hated the rich, only because he was poor, his misery making him angry at his neighbour’s prosperity.  He heard talk of Zeyn Alasnam, and of the plenty his house afforded.  This was enough for him to take an aversion to that prince; and it proceeded so far, that one day after the evening prayer in the mosque, he said to the people, “Brethren, I have been told there is come to live in our ward a stranger, who every day gives away immense sums.  How do we know but that this unknown person is some villain, who has committed a robbery in his own country, and comes hither to enjoy himself?  Let us take care, brethren; if the caliph should be informed that such a man is in our ward, it is to be feared he will punish us for not acquainting him with it.  I declare for my part I wash my hands of the affair, and if any thing should happen amiss, it shall not lie at my door.”  The multitude, who are easily led away, with one voice cried to Boubekir, “It is your business, do you acquaint the council with it.”  The muezin went home well pleased, and drew up a memorial, resolving to present it to the caliph next day.

But Mobarec, who had been at prayers, and heard all that was said by the muezin, put five hundred pieces of gold into a handkerchief, made up with a parcel of several silks, and went to Boubekir’s house.  The muezin asked him in a harsh tone what he wanted.  “Holy father,” answered Mobarec with an obliging air, and at the same time putting into his hand the gold and the silk, “I am your neighbour and your servant:  I come from prince Zeyn, who lives in this ward:  he has heard of your worth, and has ordered me to come and tell you, that he desires to be acquainted with you, and in the mean time desires you to accept of this small present.”  Boubekir was transported with joy, and answered Mobarec thus:  “Be pleased, sir, to beg the prince’s pardon for me:  I am ashamed I have not yet been to see him, but I will atone for my fault, and wait on him to-morrow.”

Accordingly the next day after morning prayer he said to the people, “You must know from your own experience, brethren, that no man is without some enemies:  envy pursues those chiefly who are very rich.  The stranger I spoke to you about yesterday in the evening is no bad man, as some ill-designing persons would have persuaded me:  he is a young prince, endowed with every virtue.  It behoves us to take care how we give any injurious report of him to the caliph.”

Boubekir having thus wiped off the impression he had the day before given the people concerning Zeyn, returned home, put on his best apparel and went to visit the young prince, who gave him a courteous reception.  After several compliments had passed on both sides, Boubekir said to the prince, “Sir, do you design to stay long at Bagdad?” “I shall stay,” answered Zeyn, “till I can find a maid fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, and so chaste, that she has not only never loved a man, but even never desired to do so.”  “You seek after a great rarity,” replied the muezin; “and I should be apt to fear your search would prove unsuccessful, did I not know where there is a maid of that character.  Her father was formerly vizier; but has left the court, and lived a long time in a lone house, where he applies himself solely to the education of his daughter.  If you please, I will ask her of him for you:  I do not question but he will be overjoyed to have a son-in-law of your quality.”  “Not so fast,” said the prince, “I shall not marry the maid before I know whether I like her.  As for her beauty, I can depend on you; but what assurance can you give me in relation to her virtue?” “What assurance do you require?” said Boubekir.  “I must see her face,” answered Zeyn; “that is enough to determine my resolution.”  “You are skilled then in physiognomy?” replied the muezin, smiling.  “Well, come along with me to her father’s:  I will desire him to let you see her one moment in his presence.”

The muezin conducted the prince to the vizier’s; who, as soon as he was acquainted with the prince’s birth and design, called his daughter, and made her take off her veil.  Never had the young sultan of Bussorah beheld such a perfect and striking beauty.  He stood amazed; and since he could then try whether the maid was as chaste as fair, he pulled out his glass, which remained bright and unsullied.

When he perceived he had at length found such a person as he desired, he entreated the vizier to grant her to him.  Immediately the cauzee was sent for, the contract signed, and the marriage prayer said.  After this ceremony, Zeyn conducted the vizier to his house, where he treated him magnificently, and gave him considerable presents.  Next day he sent a prodigious quantity of jewels by Mobarec, who conducted the bride home, where the wedding was kept with all the pomp that became Zeyn’s quality.  When all the company was dismissed Mobarec said to his master, “Let us begone, sir, let us not stay any longer at Bagdad, but return to Cairo:  remember the promise you made the sultan of the genii.”  “Let us go,” answered the prince; “I must take care to perform it exactly; yet I must confess, my dear Mobarec, that, if I obey the sultan of the genii, it is not without reluctance.  The damsel I have married is so charming, that I am tempted to carry her to Bussorah, and place her on the throne.”  “Alas! sir,” answered Mobarec, “take heed how you give way to your inclination:  make yourself master of your passions, and whatever it costs you, be as good as your word to the sultan of the genii.”  “Well, then, Mobarec,” said the prince, “do you take care to conceal the lovely maid from me; let her never appear in my sight; perhaps I have already seen too much of her.”

Mobarec made all ready for their departure; they returned to Cairo, and thence set out for the island of the sultan of the genii.  When they were arrived, the maid who had performed the journey in a horse-litter, and whom the prince had never seen since his wedding-day, said to Mobarec, “Where are we?  Shall we be soon in the dominions of the prince my husband?” “Madam,” answered Mobarec, “it is time to undeceive you.  Prince Zeyn married you only in order to get you from your father:  he did not engage his faith to make you sovereign of Bussorah, but to deliver you to the sultan of the genii, who has asked of him a virgin of your character.”  At these words, she began to weep bitterly, which moved the prince and Mobarec.  “Take pity on me,” said she; “I am a stranger, you will be accountable to God for your treachery towards me.”

Her tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented to the sultan of the genii, who having gazed on her with attention, said to Zeyn, “Prince, I am satisfied with your behaviour; the virgin you have brought me is beautiful and chaste, and I am pleased with the restraint you have put upon yourself to be as good as your promise to me.  Return to your dominions, and when you shall enter the subterraneous room, where the eight statues are, you shall find the ninth which I promised you.  I will make my genii carry it thither.”  Zeyn thanked the sultan, and returned to Cairo with Mobarec, but did not stay long in Egypt, for his impatience to see the ninth statue made him hasten his departure.  However, he could not but often think regretfully of the young virgin he had married; and blaming himself for having deceived her, he looked upon himself as the cause and instrument of her misfortune.  “Alas!” said he to himself, “I have taken her from a tender father, to sacrifice her to a genie.  O incomparable beauty! you deserve a better fate.”

Sultan Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached Bussorah, where his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for his return.  He went directly to give an account of his journey to his mother, who was in a rapture to hear that he had obtained the ninth statue.  “Let us go, my son,” said she, “let us go and see it, for it is certainly in the subterraneous chamber, since the sultan of the genii told you you should find it there.”  The young sultan and his mother, being both impatient to see the wonderful statue, went down into the room of the statues; but how great was their surprise, when, instead of a statue of diamonds, they beheld on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful virgin, whom the prince knew to be the same whom he had conducted into the island of the genii!  “Prince,” said the young maid, “you are surprised to see me here; you expected to have found something more precious than me, and I question not but that you now repent having taken so much trouble:  you expected a better reward.”  “Madam,” answered Zeyn, “heaven is my witness, that I more than once had nearly broken my word with the sultan of the genii, to keep you to myself.  Whatever be the value of a diamond statue, is it worth the satisfaction of having you mine?  I love you above all the diamonds and wealth in the world.”

Just as he had done speaking, a clap of thunder was heard, which shook the subterranean place.  Zeyn’s mother was alarmed, but the sultan of the genii immediately appearing, dispelled her fear.  “Madam,” said he to her, “I protect and love your son:  I had a mind to try, whether, at his age, he could subdue his passions.  I know the charms of this young lady have wrought on him, and that he did not punctually keep the promise he had made me, not to desire her; but I am well acquainted with the frailty of human nature.  This is the ninth statue I designed for him; it is more rare and precious than the others.”  “Live,” said he (directing his discourse to the young prince), “live happy, Zeyn, with this young lady, who is your wife; and if you would have her true and constant to you, love her always, and love her only.  Give her no rival, and I will answer for her fidelity.”  Having spoken these words, the sultan of the genii vanished, and Zeyn, enchanted with the young lady, the same day caused her to be proclaimed queen of Bussorah, over which they reigned in mutual happiness to an advanced age.

The history of Codadad, and his brothers.

Those who have written the history of Diarbekir inform us that there formerly reigned in the city of Harran a most magnificent and potent sultan, who loved his subjects, and was equally beloved by them.  He was endued with all virtues, and wanted nothing to complete his happiness but an heir.  Though he had the finest women in the world in his seraglio, yet was he destitute of children.  He continually prayed to heaven for them; and one night in his sleep, a comely person, or rather a prophet, appeared to him, and said, “Your prayers are heard; you have obtained what you have desired; rise as soon as you awake, go to your prayers, and make two genuflexions, then walk into the garden of your palace, call your gardener, and bid him bring you a pomegranate, eat as many of the seeds as you please, and your wishes shall be accomplished.”

The sultan calling to mind his dream when he awoke, returned thanks to heaven, got up, prayed, made two genuflexions, and then went into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate seeds, which he counted, and ate.  He had fifty wives who shared his bed; they all proved with child; but there was one called Pirouzè, who did not appear to be pregnant.  He took an aversion to this lady, and would have her put to death.  “Her barrenness,” said he, “is a certain token that heaven does not judge Pirouzè worthy to bear a prince; it is my duty to deliver the world from an object that is odious to the Lord.”  He would have executed his cruel purpose had not his vizier prevented him; representing to him that all women were not of the same constitution, and that it was not impossible but that Pirouzè might be with child, though it did not yet appear.  “Well,” answered the sultan, “let her live; but let her depart my court; for I cannot endure her.”  “Your majesty,” replied the vizier, “may send her to sultan Samer, your cousin.”  The sultan approved of this advice; he sent Pirouzè to Samaria, with a letter, in which he ordered his cousin to treat her well, and, in case she proved with child, to give him notice of her being brought to bed.

No sooner was Pirouzè arrived in that country, than it appeared that she was pregnant, and at length she was delivered of a most beautiful prince.  The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the sultan of Harran, to acquaint him with the birth of a son, and to congratulate him on the occasion.  The sultan was much rejoiced at this intelligence, and answered prince Samer as follows:  “Cousin, all my other wives have each been delivered of a prince.  I desire you to educate that of Pirouzè, to give him the name of Codadad, and to send him to me when I may apply for him.”

The prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the education of his nephew.  He taught him to ride, draw the bow, and all other accomplishments becoming the son of a sovereign; so that Codadad, at eighteen years of age, was looked upon as a prodigy.  The young prince, being inspired with a courage worthy of his birth, said one day to his mother, “Madam, I begin to grow weary of Samaria; I feel a passion for glory; give me leave to seek it amidst the perils of war.  My father, the sultan of Harran, has many enemies.  Why does he not call me to his assistance?  Why does he leave me here so long in obscurity?  Must I spend my life in sloth, when all my brothers have the happiness to be fighting by his side?” “My son,” answered Pirouzè, “I am no less impatient to have your name become famous; I could wish you had already signalized yourself against your father’s enemies; but we must wait till he requires it.”  “No, madam,” replied Codadad, “I have already waited but too long.  I burn to see the sultan, and am tempted to offer him my service, as a young stranger:  no doubt but he will accept of it, and I will not discover myself, till I have performed some glorious actions:  I desire to merit his esteem before he knows who I am.”  Pirouzè approved of his generous resolutions, and Codadad departed from Samaria, as if he had been going to the chase, without acquainting prince Samer, lest he should thwart his design.

He was mounted on a white charger, who had a bit and shoes of gold, his housing was of blue satin embroidered with pearls; the hilt of his scimitar was of one single diamond, and the scabbard of sandal-wood, adorned with emeralds and rubies, and on his shoulder he carried his bow and quiver.  In this equipage, which greatly set off his handsome person, he arrived at the city of Harran, and soon found means to offer his service to the sultan; who being charmed with his beauty and promising appearance, and perhaps indeed by natural sympathy, gave him a favourable reception, and asked his name and quality.  “Sir,” answered Codadad, “I am son to an emir of Grand Cairo; an inclination to travel has made me quit my country, and understanding, in my passage through your dominions, that you were engaged in war, I am come to your court to offer your majesty my service.”  The sultan shewed him extraordinary kindness, and gave him a command in his army.

The young prince soon signalized his bravery.  He gained the esteem of the officers, and was admired by the soldiers.  Having no less wit than courage, he so far advanced himself in the sultan’s esteem, as to become his favourite.  All the ministers and other courtiers daily resorted to Codadad, and were so eager to purchase his friendship, that they neglected the sultan’s sons.  The princes could not but resent this conduct, and imputing it to the stranger, all conceived an implacable hatred against him; but the sultan’s affection daily increasing, he was never weary of giving him fresh testimonies of his regard.  He always would have him near his person; admired his conversation, ever full of wit and discretion; and to shew his high opinion of his wisdom and prudence, committed to his care the other princes, though he was of the same age as they; so that Codadad was made governor of his brothers.

This only served to heighten their hatred.  “Is it come to this,” said they, “that the sultan, not satisfied with loving a stranger more than us, will have him to be our governor, and not allow us to act without his leave? this is not to be endured.  We must rid ourselves of this foreigner.”  “Let us go together,” said one of them, “and dispatch him.”  “No, no,” answered another; “we had better be cautious how we sacrifice ourselves.  His death would render us odious to the sultan, who in return would declare us all unworthy to reign.  Let us destroy him by some stratagem.  We will ask his permission to hunt, and when at a distance from the palace, proceed to some other city, and stay there some time.  The sultan will wonder at our absence, and perceiving we do not return, perhaps put the stranger to death, or at least will banish him from court, for suffering us to leave the palace.”

All the princes applauded this artifice.  They went together to Codadad, and desired him to allow them to take the diversion of hunting, promising to return the same day.  Pirouzè’s son was taken in the snare, and granted the permission his brothers desired.  They set out, but never returned.  They had been three days absent, when the sultan asked Codadad where the princes were, for it was long since he had seen them.  “Sir,” answered Codadad, after making a profound reverence, “they have been hunting these three days, but they promised me they would return sooner.”  The sultan grew uneasy, and his uneasiness increased when he perceived the princes did not return the next day.  He could not check his anger:  “Indiscreet stranger,” said he to Codadad, “why did you let my sons go without bearing them company?  Is it thus you discharge the trust I have reposed in you?  Go, seek them immediately, and bring them to me, or your life shall be forfeited.”

These words chilled with alarm Pirouzè’s unfortunate son.  He armed himself, departed from the city, and like a shepherd, who had lost his flock, searched the country for his brothers, inquiring at every village whether they had been seen:  but hearing no news of them, abandoned himself to the most lively grief.  “Alas! my brothers,” said he, “what is become of you?  Are you fallen into the hands of our enemies?  Am I come to the court of Harran to be the occasion of giving the sultan so much anxiety?” He was inconsolable for having given the princes permission to hunt, or for not having borne them company.

After some days spent in fruitless search, he came to a plain of prodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace built of black marble.  He drew near, and at one of the windows beheld a most beautiful lady; but set off with no other ornament than her own charms; for her hair was dishevelled, her garments torn, and on her countenance appeared all the marks of the greatest affliction.  As soon as she saw Codadad, and judged he might hear her, she directed her discourse to him, saying, “Young man, depart from this fatal place, or you will soon fall into the hands of the monster that inhabits it:  a black, who feeds only on human blood, resides in this palace; he seizes all persons whom their ill-fate conducts to this plain, and shuts them up in his dark dungeons, whence they are never released, but to be devoured by him.”

“Madam,” answered Codadad, “tell me who you are, and be not concerned for myself.”  “I am a young woman of quality of Grand Cairo,” replied the lady; “I was passing by this castle yesterday, in my way to Bagdad, and met with the black, who killed all my attendants, and brought me hither; I wish I had nothing but death to fear, but to add to my calamity, this monster would persuade me to love him, and, in case I do not yield to-morrow to his brutality, I must expect the last violence.  Once more,” added she, “make your escape:  the black will soon return; he is gone out to pursue some travellers he espied at a distance on the plain.  Lose no time; I know not whether you can escape him by a speedy flight.”

She had scarcely done speaking before the black appeared.  He was of monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on a large Tartar horse, and bore such a heavy scimitar, that none but himself could wield.  The prince seeing him, was amazed at his gigantic stature, directed his prayers to heaven to assist him, then drew his scimitar, and firmly awaited his approach.  The monster, despising so inconsiderable an enemy, called to him to submit without fighting.  Codadad by his conduct shewed that he was resolved to defend his life; for rushing upon him, he wounded him on the knee.  The black, feeling himself wounded, uttered such a dreadful yell as made all the plain resound.  He grew furious and foamed with rage, and raising himself on his stirrups, made at Codadad with his dreadful scimitar.  The blow was so violent, that it would have put an end to the young prince, had not he avoided it by a sudden spring.  The scimitar made a horrible hissing in the air:  but, before the black could have time to make a second blow, Codadad struck him on his right arm, with such force, that he cut it off.  The dreadful scimitar fell with the hand that held it, and the black yielding under the violence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made the earth shake with the weight of his fall.  The prince alighted at the same time, and cut off his enemy’s head.  Just then, the lady, who had been a spectator of the combat, and was still offering up her earnest prayers to heaven for the young hero, whom she admired, uttered a shriek of joy, and said to Codadad, “Prince (for the dangerous victory you have obtained, as well as your noble air, convinces me that you are of no common rank), finish the work you have begun; the black has the keys of this castle, take them and deliver me out of prison.”  The prince searched the wretch as he lay stretched on the ground, and found several keys.

He opened the first door, and entered a court, where he saw the lady coming to meet him; she would have cast herself at his feet, the better to express her gratitude, but he would not permit her.  She commended his valour, and extolled him above all the heroes in the world.  He returned her compliments; and she appeared still more lovely to him near, than she had done at a distance.  I know not whether she felt more joy at being delivered from the desperate danger she had been in, than he for having done so considerable a service to so beautiful a person.

Their conversation was interrupted by dismal cries and groans.  “What do I hear?” said Codadad:  “Whence come these miserable lamentations, which pierce my ears?” “My lord,” said the lady to him, pointing to a little door in the court, “they come from thence.  There are I know not how many wretched persons whom fate has thrown into the hands of the black.  They are all chained, and the monster drew out one every day to devour.”

“It is an addition to my joy,” answered the young prince, “to understand that my victory will save the lives of those unfortunate beings.  Come along with me, madam, to partake in the satisfaction of giving them their liberty.  You may judge by your own feelings how welcome we shall be to them.”  Having so said, they advanced towards the door of the dungeon, and the nearer they drew, the more distinctly they heard the lamentations of the prisoners.  Codadad pitying them, and impatient to put an end to their sufferings, presently put one of the keys into the lock.  The noise made all the unfortunate captives, who concluded it was the black coming, according to custom, to seize one of them to devour, redouble their cries and groans.  Lamentable voices were heard, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth.

In the mean time, the prince had opened the door; he went down a very steep staircase into a large and deep vault, which received some feeble light from a little window, and in which there were above a hundred persons, bound to stakes, and their hands tied.  “Unfortunate travellers,” said he to them, “wretched victims, who only expected the moment of an approaching cruel death, give thanks to heaven, which has this day delivered you by my means.  I have slain the black by whom you were to be devoured, and am come to knock off your chains.”  The prisoners hearing these words, gave a shout of mingled joy and surprise.  Codadad and the lady began to unbind them; and as soon as any of them were loose, they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in a short time they were all at liberty.

They then kneeled down, and having returned thanks to Codadad for what he had done for them, went out of the dungeon; but when they were come into the court, how was the prince surprised to see among the prisoners, those he was in search of, and almost without hopes to find!  “Princes,” cried he, “am I not deceived?  Is it you whom I behold?  May I flatter myself that it may be in my power to restore you to the sultan your father, who is inconsolable for the loss of you?  But will he not have some one to lament?  Are you all here alive?  Alas! the death of one of you will suffice to damp the joy I feel for having delivered you!”

The forty-nine princes all made themselves known to Codadad, who embraced them one after another, and told them how uneasy their father was on account of their absence.  They gave their deliverer all the commendations he deserved, as did the other prisoners, who could not find words expressive enough to declare their gratitude.  Codadad, with them, searched the whole castle, where was immense wealth; curious silks, gold brocades, Persian carpets, China satins, and an infinite quantity of other goods, which the black had taken from the caravans he had plundered, a considerable part whereof belonged to the prisoners Codadad had then liberated.  Every man knew and claimed his property.  The prince restored them their own, and divided the rest of the merchandise among them.  Then he said to them, “How will you carry away your goods?  We are here in a desert place, and there is no likelihood of your getting horses.”  “My lord,” answered one of the prisoners, “the black robbed us of our camels as well as our goods, and perhaps they may be in the stables of this castle.”  “This is not unlikely,” replied Codadad; “let us examine.”  Accordingly they went to the stables, where they not only found the camels, but also the horses belonging to the sultan of Harran’s sons.  There were some black slaves in the stables, who seeing all the prisoners released, and guessing thereby that their master had been killed, fled through by-ways well known to them.  Nobody minded to pursue them.  All the merchants, overjoyed that they had recovered their goods and camels, together with their liberty, thought of nothing but prosecuting their journey; but first repeated their thanks to their deliverer.

When they were gone, Codadad, directing his discourse to the lady, said, “What place, madam, do you desire to go to?  Whither were you bound when you were seized by the black?  I intend to bear you company to the place you shall choose for your retreat, and I question not but that all these princes will do the same.”  The sultan of Harran’s sons protested to the lady, that they would not leave her till she was restored to her friends.

“Princes,” said she, “I am of a country too remote from hence; and, besides that, it would be abusing your generosity to oblige you to travel so far.  I must confess that I have left my native country for ever.  I told you that I was a lady of Grand Cairo; but since you have shewn me so much favour, and I am so highly obliged to you,” added she, looking upon Codadad, “I should be much in the wrong in concealing the truth from you; I am a sultan’s daughter.  An usurper has possessed himself of my father’s throne, after having murdered him, and I have been forced to fly to save my life.”

Codadad and his brothers requested the princess to tell them her story, assuring her they felt a particular interest in her misfortunes, and were determined to spare nothing that might contribute to render her more happy.  After thanking them for their repeated protestations of readiness to serve her, she could not refuse to satisfy their curiosity, and began the recital of her adventures in the following manner.

The History of the Princess of Deryabar.

There was in a certain island a great city called Deryabar, governed by a potent, magnificent, and virtuous sultan, who had no children, which was the only blessing wanting to make him happy.  He continually addressed his prayers to heaven, but heaven only partially granted his requests, for the queen his wife, after a long expectation, brought forth a daughter.

I am the unfortunate princess; my father was rather grieved than pleased at my birth; but he submitted to the will of God, and caused me to be educated with all possible care, being resolved, since he had no son, to teach me the art of ruling, that I might supply his place after his death.

One day when he was taking the diversion of hunting, he espied a wild ass, which he chased, lost his company, and was carried away so far by his eagerness as to ride on till night.  He then alighted, and sat down at the entrance of a wood, in which the ass had sheltered.  No sooner was the day shut in than he discovered among the trees a light, which made him conclude that he was not far from some village; he rejoiced at this, hoping that he might pass the night there, and find some person to send to his followers and acquaint them where he was; accordingly he rose and walked towards the light, which served to guide him.

He soon found he had been deceived, the light being no other than a fire blazing in a hut; however, he drew near, and, with amazement, beheld a black man, or rather a giant, sitting on a sofa.  Before the monster was a great pitcher of wine, and he was roasting an ox he had newly killed.  Sometimes he drank out of the pitcher, and sometimes cut slices off the ox and greedily devoured them.  But what most attracted my father’s attention was a beautiful woman whom he saw in the hut.  She seemed overwhelmed with grief; her hands were bound, and at her feet was a little child about two or three years old, who, as if he was sensible of his mother’s misfortunes, wept without ceasing, and rent the air with his cries.

My father, moved with this pitiable object, thought at first to enter the hut and attack the giant; but considering how unequal the combat would be, he stopped, and resolved, since he had not strength enough to prevail by open force, to use art.  In the mean time, the giant having emptied the pitcher, and devoured above half the ox, turned to the woman and said, “Beautiful princess, why do you oblige me by your obstinacy to treat you with severity?  It is in your own power to be happy.  You need only resolve to love, and be true to me, and I shall treat you with more mildness.”  “Thou hideous satyr,” answered the lady, “never expect that time should wear away my abhorrence of thee.  Thou wilt ever be a monster in my eyes.”  To these words she added so many reproaches, that the giant grew enraged.  “This is too much,” cried he, in a furious tone; “my love despised is turned into rage.  Your hatred has at last excited mine; I find it triumphs over my desires, and that I now wish your death more ardently than your enjoyment.”  Having spoken these words, he took the wretched lady by the hair, held her up with one hand in the air, and drawing his scimitar with the other, was just going to strike off her head, when the sultan my father let fly an arrow which pierced the giant’s breast, so that he staggered, and dropped down dead.

My father entered the hut, unbound the lady’s hands, inquired who she was, and how she came thither.  “My lord,” said she, “there are along the sea-coast some families of Saracens, who live under a prince who is my husband; this giant you have killed was one of his principal officers.  The wretch fell desperately in love with me, but took care to conceal his passion, till he could put in execution the design he had formed of forcing me from home.  Fortune oftener favours wicked designs than virtuous resolutions.  The giant one day surprised me and my child in a by-place.  He seized us both, and to disappoint the search he well knew my husband would cause to be made for me, removed from the country inhabited by those Saracens, and brought us into this wood, where he has kept me some days.  Deplorable as my condition is, it is still a great satisfaction to me to think that the giant, though so brutal, never used force to obtain what I always refused to his entreaties.  Not but that he has a hundred times threatened that he would have recourse to the worst of extremities, in case he could not otherwise prevail upon me; and I must confess to you, that awhile ago, when I provoked his anger by my words, I was less concerned for my life than for my honour.

“This, my lord,” said the prince of the Saracens’ wife, “is the faithful account of my misfortunes, and I question not but you will think me worthy of your compassion, and that you will not repent having so generously relieved me.”  “Madam,” answered my father, “be assured your troubles have affected me, and I will do all in my power to make you happy.  To-morrow, as soon as day appears, we will quit this wood, and endeavour to fall into the road which leads to the great city of Deryabar, of which I am sovereign; and if you think fit, you shall be lodged in my palace, till the prince your husband comes to claim you.”

The Saracen lady accepted the offer, and the next day followed the sultan my father, who found all his retinue upon the skirts of the wood, they having spent the night in searching for him, and being very uneasy because they could not find him.  They were no less rejoiced to meet with, than amazed to see him with a lady, whose beauty surprised them.  He told them how he had found her, and the risk he had run in approaching the hut, where he must certainly have lost his life had the giant discovered him.  One of his servants took up the lady behind him, and another carried the child.

Thus they arrived at the palace of my father, who assigned the beautiful Saracen lady an apartment, and caused her child to be carefully educated.  The lady was not insensible of the sultan’s goodness to her, and expressed as much gratitude as he could desire.  She had at first appeared very uneasy and impatient that her husband did not claim her; but by degrees she lost that uneasiness.  The respect my father paid her dispelled her impatience; and I am of opinion she would at last have blamed fortune more for restoring her to her kindred, than she did for removing her from them.

In the mean time the lady’s son grew up; he was very handsome, and not wanting ability, found means to please the sultan my father, who conceived a great friendship for him.  All the courtiers perceived it, and guessed that the young man might in the end be my husband.  In this idea, and looking on him already as heir to the crown, they made their court to him, and every one endeavoured to gain his favour.  He soon saw into their designs, grew conceited of himself, and forgetting the distance there was between our conditions, flattered himself with the hopes that my father was fond enough of him, to prefer him before all the princes in the world.  He went farther; for the sultan not offering me to him as soon as he could have wished, he had the boldness to ask me of him.  Whatever punishment his insolence deserved, my father was satisfied with telling him he had other thoughts in relation to me, and shewed him no further resentment.  The youth was incensed at this refusal; he resented the contempt, as if he had asked some maid of ordinary extraction, or as if his birth had been equal to mine.  Nor did he stop here, but resolved to be revenged on the sultan, and with unparalleled ingratitude conspired against him.  In short, he murdered him, and caused himself to be proclaimed sovereign of Deryabar.  The first thing he did after the murder of my father was to come into my apartment, at the head of a party of the conspirators.  His design was either to take my life or oblige me to marry him.  The grand vizier, however, who had been always loyal to his master, while the usurper was butchering my father, came to carry me away from the palace, and secured me in a friend’s house, till a vessel he had provided was ready to sail.  I then left the island, attended only by a governess and that generous minister, who chose rather to follow his master’s daughter, and share her misfortunes, than to submit to a tyrant.

The grand vizier designed to carry me to the courts of the neighbouring sultans, to implore their assistance, and excite them to revenge my father’s death; but heaven did not concur in a resolution we thought so just.  When we had been but a few days at sea, there arose such a furious storm, that, in spite of all the mariners’ art, our vessel, carried away by the violence of the winds and waves, was dashed in pieces against a rock.  I will not spend time in describing our shipwreck.  I can but faintly represent to you how my governess, the grand vizier, and all that attended me, were swallowed up by the sea.  The dread I was seized with did not permit me to observe all the horror of our condition.  I lost my senses; and whether I was thrown upon the coast upon any part of the wreck, or whether heaven, which reserved me for other misfortunes, wrought a miracle for my deliverance, I found myself on shore when my senses returned.

Misfortunes very often make us forget our duty.  Instead of returning thanks to God for so singular a favour shewn me, I only lifted up my eyes to heaven, to complain because I had been preserved.  I was so far from bewailing the vizier and my governess, that I envied their fate, and dreadful imaginations by degrees prevailing over my reason, I resolved to cast myself into the sea; I was on the point of doing so, when I heard behind me a great noise of men and horses.  I looked about to see what it might be, and espied several armed horsemen, among whom was one mounted on an Arabian horse.  He had on a garment embroidered with silver, a girdle set with precious stones, and a crown of gold on his head.  Though his habit had not convinced me that he was chief of the company, I should have judged it by the air of grandeur which appeared in his person.  He was a young man extraordinarily well shaped, and perfectly beautiful.  Surprised to see a young lady alone in that place, he sent some of his officers to ask who I was.  I answered only by weeping.  The shore being covered with the wreck of our ship, they concluded that I was certainly some person who had escaped from the vessel.  This conjecture, and my inconsolable condition, excited the curiosity of the officers, who began to ask me a thousand questions, with assurances, that their master was a generous prince, and that I should receive protection at his court.

The sultan, impatient to know who I was, grew weary of waiting the return of his officers, and drew near to me.  He gazed on me very earnestly, and observing that I did not cease weeping and afflicting myself, without being able to return an answer to their questions, he forbad them troubling me any more; and directing his discourse to me, “Madam,” said he, “I conjure you to moderate your excessive affliction.  Though heaven in its dispensations has laid this calamity upon you, it does not behove you to despair.  I beseech you shew more resolution.  Fortune, which has hitherto persecuted you, is inconstant, and may soon change.  I dare assure you, that, if your misfortunes are capable of receiving any relief, you shall find it in my dominions.  My palace is at your service.  You shall live with the queen my mother, who will endeavour by her kindness to ease your affliction.  I know not yet who you are; but I find I already take an interest in your welfare.”

I thanked the young sultan for his goodness to me, accepted his obliging offers; and to convince him that I was not unworthy of them, told him my condition.  I described to him the insolence of the young Saracen, and found it was enough to recount my misfortunes, to excite compassion in him and all his officers, who heard me.  When I had done speaking, the prince began again, assuring me that he was deeply concerned at my misfortunes.  He then conducted me to his palace, and presented me to the queen his mother, to whom I was obliged again to repeat my misfortunes and to renew my tears.  The queen seemed very sensible of my trouble, and conceived extreme affection for me.  On the other hand, the sultan her son fell desperately in love with me, and soon offered me his person and his crown.  I was so taken up with the thoughts of my calamities, that the prince, though so lovely a person, did not make so great an impression on me as he might have done at another time.  However, gratitude prevailing, I did not refuse to make him happy, and our nuptials were concluded with all imaginable splendour.

While the people were taken up with the celebration of their sovereign’s nuptials, a neighbouring prince, his enemy, made a descent by night on the island with a great number of troops.  That formidable enemy was the king of Zanguebar.  He surprised and cut to pieces my husband’s subjects.  He was very near taking us both.  We escaped very narrowly, for he had already entered the palace with some of his followers, but we found means to slip away, and to get to the seacoast, where we threw ourselves into a fishing boat which we had the good fortune to meet with.  Two days we were driven about by the winds, without knowing what would become of us.  The third day we espied a vessel making towards us under sail.  We rejoiced at first, believing it had been a merchant ship which might take us aboard; but what was our consternation, when, as it drew near, we saw ten or twelve armed pirates appear on the deck.  Having boarded, five or six of them leaped into our boat, seized us, bound the prince, and conveyed us into their ship, where they immediately took off my veil.  My youth and features touched them, and they all declared how much they were charmed at the sight of me.  Instead of casting lots, each of them claimed the preference, and me as his right.  The dispute grew warm, they came to blows, and fought like madmen.  The deck was soon covered with dead bodies, and they were all killed but one, who being left sole possessor of me, said, “You are mine.  I will carry you to Grand Cairo, to deliver you to a friend of mine, to whom I have promised a beautiful slave.  But who,” added he, looking upon the sultan my husband, “is that man?  What relation does he bear to you?  Are you allied by blood or love?” “Sir,” answered I, “he is my husband.”  “If so,” replied the pirate, “in pity I must rid myself of him:  it would be too great an affliction to him to see you in my friend’s arms.”  Having spoken these words, he took up the unhappy prince, who was bound, and threw him into the sea, notwithstanding all my endeavours to prevent him.

I shrieked in a dreadful manner at the sight of what he had done, and had certainly cast myself headlong into the sea, but that the pirate held me.  He saw my design, and therefore bound me with cords to the main-mast, then hoisting sail, made towards the land, and got ashore.  He unbound me and led me to a little town, where he bought camels, tents, and slaves, and then set out for Grand Cairo, designing, as he still said, to present me to his friend, according to his promise.

We had been several days upon the road, when, as we were crossing this plain yesterday, we descried the black who inhabited this castle.  At a distance we took him for a tower, and when near us, could scarcely believe him to be a man.  He drew his huge scimitar, and summoned the pirate to yield himself prisoner, with all his slaves, and the lady he was conducting.  The pirate was daring; and being seconded by his slaves, who promised to stand by him, he attacked the black.  The combat lasted a considerable time; but at length the pirate fell under his enemy’s deadly blows, as did all his slaves, who chose rather to die than forsake him.  The black then conducted me to the castle, whither he also brought the pirate’s body, which he devoured that night.  After his inhuman repast, perceiving that I ceased not weeping, he said to me, “Young lady, prepare to love me, rather than continue thus to afflict yourself.  Make a virtue of necessity, and comply.  I will give you till to-morrow to consider.  Let me then find you comforted for all your misfortunes, and overjoyed at having been reserved for me.”  Having spoken these words, he conducted me to a chamber, and withdrew to his own, after locking up the castle gates.  He opened them this morning, and presently locked them after him again, to pursue some travellers he perceived at a distance; but it is likely they made their escape, since he was returning alone, and without any booty, when you attacked him.

As soon as the princess had finished the recital of her adventures, Codadad declared to her that he was deeply concerned at her misfortunes.  “But, madam,” added he, “it shall be your own fault if you do not live at ease for the future.  The sultan of Harran’s sons offer you a safe retreat in the court of their father; be pleased to accept of it.  You will be there cherished by that sovereign, and respected by all; and if you do not disdain the affection of your deliverer, permit me to assure you of it, and to espouse you before all these princes; let them be witnesses to our contract.”  The princess consented, and the marriage was concluded that very day in the castle, where they found all sorts of provisions.  The kitchens were full of flesh and other eatables the black used to feed on, when he was weary of feeding on human bodies.  There was also a variety of fruits, excellent in their kinds; and, to complete their pleasure, abundance of delicious wine and other liquors.

They all sat down at table; and after having eaten and drunk plentifully, took with them the rest of the provisions, and set out for the sultan of Harran’s court:  they travelled several days, encamping in the pleasantest places they could find, and were within one day’s journey of Harran, when having halted and drunk all their wine, being under no longer concern to make it hold out, Codadad directing his discourse to all his company, said “Princes, I have too long concealed from you who I am.  Behold your brother Codadad!  I have received my being, as well as you, from the sultan of Harran, the prince of Samaria brought me up, and the princess Pirouzè is my mother.  Madam,” added he, addressing himself to the Princess of Deryabar, “do you also forgive me for having concealed my birth from you?  Perhaps, by discovering it sooner, I might have prevented some disagreeable reflections, which may have been occasioned by a match you may have thought unequal.”  “No, sir,” answered the princess, “the opinion I at first conceived of you heightened every moment, and you did not stand in need of the extraction you now discover to make me happy.”

The princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed much satisfaction at being made acquainted with it.  But in reality, instead of rejoicing, their hatred of so amiable a brother was increased.  They met together at night, whilst Codadad and the princess his wife lay asleep in their tent.  Those ungrateful, those envious brothers, forgetting that had it not been for the brave son of Pirouzè they must have been devoured by the black, agreed among themselves to murder him.  “We have no other course to choose,” said one of them, “for the moment our father shall come to understand that this stranger of whom he is already so fond, is our brother, and that he alone has been able to destroy a giant, whom we could not all of us together conquer, he will declare him his heir, to the prejudice of all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall down before him.”  He added much more, which made such an impression on their envious and unnatural minds, that they immediately repaired to Codadad, then asleep, stabbed him repeatedly, and leaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of Deryabar, proceeded on their journey for the city of Harran, where they arrived the next day.

The sultan their father conceived the greater joy at their return, because he had despaired of ever seeing them again:  he asked what had been the occasion of their stay?  But they took care not to acquaint him with it, making no mention either of the black or of Codadad; and only said, that, being curious to see different countries, they had spent some time in the neighbouring cities.

In the mean time Codadad lay in his tent weltering in his blood, and little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife, who seemed to be in not much better condition than himself.  She rent the air with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing her husband’s body with her tears, “Alas!  Codadad, my dear Codadad,” cried she, “is it you whom I behold just departing this life?  What cruel hands have put you into this condition?  Can I believe these are your brothers who have treated you so unmercifully, those brothers whom thy valour had saved?  No, they are rather devils, who under characters so dear came to murder you.  O barbarous wretches! how could you make so ungrateful a return for the service he has done you?  But why should I complain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad!  I alone am to blame for your death.  You would join your fate with mine, and all the ill fortune that has attended me since I left my father’s palace has fallen upon you.  O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a life of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why did you permit me to find one?  Behold you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them.”

By these and other moving expressions, the afflicted princess of Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his consort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon.  She was directed to one, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to be devoured.  The princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most affecting manner.  The surgeon was moved and being unwilling to leave her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return to the town offering her his house and service.

She suffered herself to be prevailed on.  The surgeon conducted her to his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was, treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect.  He used all his endeavours to comfort her, but it was vain to think of removing her sorrow, which was rather heightened than diminished.  “Madam,” said he to her one day, “be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes; tell me your country and your condition.  Perhaps I may give you some good advice, when I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your calamity.  You do nothing but afflict yourself, without considering that remedies may be found for the most desperate diseases.”

The surgeon’s words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the princess, who recounted to him all her adventures:  and when she had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her; “Madam,” said he, “you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and perform what the name and the duty of a wife require of you.  You are bound to avenge your husband.  If you please, I will wait on you as your attendant.  Let us go to the sultan of Harran’s court; he is a good and a just prince.  You need only represent to him in lively colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers.  I am persuaded he will do you justice.”  “I submit to your reasons,” answered the princess; “it is my duty to endeavour to avenge Codadad; and since you are so generous as to offer to attend me, I am ready to set out.”  No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.

They alighted at the first caravanserai they found, and inquired of the host the news at court.  “It is,” said he, “in very great perplexity.  The sultan had a son, who lived long with him as a stranger, and none can tell what is become of the young prince.  One of the sultan’s wives, named Pirouzè, is his mother; she has made all possible inquiry, but to no purpose.  All are concerned at the loss of this prince, because he had great merit.  The sultan has forty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but not one of them has virtue enough to comfort him for the death of Codadad; I say, his death, because it is impossible he should be still alive, since no intelligence has been heard of him, notwithstanding so much search has been made.”

The surgeon having heard this account from the host, concluded that the best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to wait upon Pirouzè; but that step was not without some danger, and required much precaution:  for it was to be feared, that if the sultan of Harran’s sons should happen to hear of the arrival of their sister-in-law, and her design, they might cause her to be conveyed away before she could discover herself to Codadad’s mother.  The surgeon weighed all these circumstances, considered what risk he might run himself, and therefore, that he might manage matters with discretion, desired the princess to remain in the caravanserai, whilst he repaired to the palace, to observe which might be the safest way to conduct her to Pirouzè.

He went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the palace, like one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he beheld a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred.  She was followed by several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great number of guards and black slaves.  All the people formed a lane to see her pass along, and saluted her by prostrating themselves on the ground.  The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then asked a calender, who happened to stand by him, “Whether that lady was one of the sultan’s wives?” “Yes, brother,” answered the calender, “she is, and the most honoured and beloved by the people, because she is the mother of prince Codadad, of whom you must have heard.”

The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouzè to a mosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the public prayers which the sultan had ordered to be offered up for the safe return of Codadad.  The people, who were highly concerned for that young prince, ran in crowds to join their vows to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was quite full.  The surgeon broke through the throng, and advanced to Pirouzè’s guards.  He waited the conclusion of the prayers, and when the princess went out, stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered him in the ear, “Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to the princess Pirouzè; may not I, by your means, be introduced into her apartment?” “If that secret,” answered the slave, “relate to prince Codadad, I dare promise you shall have audience of her this very day; but if it concern not him, it is needless for you to endeavour to be introduced; for her thoughts are all engrossed by her son, and she will not hear of any other subject.”  “It is only about that dear son,” replied the surgeon, “that I wish to speak to her.”  “If so,” said the slave, “you need only follow us to the palace, and you shall soon have the opportunity.”

Accordingly, as soon as Pirouzè was returned to her apartment, the slave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important information to communicate to her, and that it related to prince Codadad.  No sooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouzè expressed her impatience to see the stranger.  The slave immediately conducted him into the princess’s closet, who ordered all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she concealed nothing.  As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him eagerly, what news he had to tell her of Codadad?  “Madam,” answered the surgeon, after having prostrated himself on the ground, “I have a long account to give you, and such as will surprise you.”  He then related all the particulars of what had passed between Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with eager attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, the tender mother fainted away on her sofa, as if she had herself been stabbed like her son.  Her two women used proper means, and soon brought her to herself.  The surgeon continued his relation; and when he had concluded, Pirouzè said to him, “Go back to the princess of Deryabar, and assure her from me that the sultan shall soon own her for his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself, be satisfied, that your services shall be rewarded as liberally as they deserve.”

When the surgeon was gone, Pirouzè remained on the sofa, in such a state of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to her tenderness at the recollection of Codadad, “O my son,” said she, “I must never then expect to see you more!  Alas! when I gave you leave to depart from Samaria, and you took leave of me, I did not imagine that so unfortunate a death awaited you at such a distance from me.  Unfortunate Codadad!  Why did you leave me?  You would not, it is true, have acquired so much renown, but you had been still alive, and not have cost your mother so many tears.”  While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and her two attendants moved by her grief, mingled their tears with hers.

Whilst they were all three in this manner vying in affliction, the sultan came into the closet, and seeing them in this condition, asked Pirouzè whether she had received any bad news concerning Codadad?  “Alas! sir,” said she, “all is over, my son has lost his life, and to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the funeral rites; for, in all probability, wild beasts have devoured him.”  She then told him all she had heard from the surgeon, and did not fail to enlarge on the inhuman manner in which Codadad had been murdered by his brothers.

The sultan did not give Pirouzè time to finish her relation, but transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, “Madam,” said he to the princess, “those perfidious wretches who cause you to shed these tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt.”  The sultan having spoken these words, with indignation in his countenance, went directly to the presence-chamber where all his courtiers attended, and such of the people as had petitions to present to him.  They were alarmed to see him in passion, and thought his anger had been kindled against his people.  Their hearts were chilled with fear.  He ascended the throne, and causing his grand vizier to approach, “Hassan,” said he, “go immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the princes, my sons; shut them up in the tower used as a prison for murderers, and let this be done in a moment.”  All who were present trembled at this extraordinary command; and the grand vizier, without uttering a word, laid his hand on his head, to express his obedience, and hastened from the hall to execute his orders.  In the mean time the sultan dismissed those who attended for audience, and declared he would not hear of any business for a month to come.  He was still in the hall when the vizier returned.  “Are all my sons,” demanded he, “in the tower?” “They are, sir,” answered the vizier, “I have obeyed your orders.”  “This is not all,” replied the sultan, “I have further commands for you;” and so saying he went out of the hall of audience, and returned to Pirouzè’s apartment, the vizier following him.  He asked the princess where Codadad’s widow had taken up her lodging?  Pirouzè’s women told him, for the surgeon had not forgotten that in his relation.  The sultan then turning to his minister, “Go,” said he, “to this caravanserai, and conduct a young princess who lodges there, with all the respect due to her quality, to my palace.”

The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered.  He mounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and repaired to the caravanserai, where the princess of Deryabar was lodged, whom he acquainted with his orders; and presented her, from the sultan, a fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds.  She mounted, and proceeded to the palace.  The surgeon attended her, mounted on a beautiful Tartar horse which the vizier had provided for him.  All the people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see the cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad’s wife, the city resounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of joy, which would have been turned into lamentations had that prince’s fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by all.

The princess of Deryabar found the sultan at the palace-gate, waiting to receive her:  he took her by the hand, and led her to Pirouzè’s apartment, where a very moving scene took place.  Codadad’s wife found her affliction redouble at the sight of her husband’s father and mother; as, on the other hand, those parents could not look on their son’s wife without being much affected.  She cast herself at the sultan’s feet, and having bathed them with tears, was so overcome with grief, that she was not able to speak.  Pirouzè was in no better state.  And the sultan, moved by these affecting objects, gave way to his own feelings, and wept.  All three, mingling their tears and sighs, for some time observed a silence, equally tender and pitiful.  At length the princess of Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of the castle, and Codadad’s disaster.  Then she demanded justice for the treachery of the princes.  “Yes, madam,” said the sultan, “those ungrateful wretches shall perish; but Codadad’s death must be first made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not cause my subjects to rebel; and though we have not my son’s body, we will not omit paying him the last duties.”  This said, he directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered him to cause to be erected a dome of white marble, in a delightful plain, in the midst of which the city of Harran stands.  Then he appointed the princess of Deryabar a suitable apartment in his palace, acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.

Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished.  Within it was erected a tomb, which was covered with gold brocade.  When all was completed, the sultan ordered prayers to be said, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.

On that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the plain to see the ceremony performed, which was after the following manner.  The sultan, attended by his vizier and the principal lords of the court, proceeded towards the dome, and being come to it, he went in and sat down with them on carpets of black satin embroidered with gold flowers.  A great body of horse-guards hanging their heads, drew up close about the dome, and marched round it twice, observing a profound silence; but at the third round they halted before the door, and all of them with a loud voice pronounced these words:  “O prince! son to the sultan, could we by dint of sword, and human valour, repair your misfortune, we would bring you back to life; but the King of kings has commanded, and the angel of death has obeyed.”  Having uttered these words, they drew off, to make way for a hundred old men, all of them mounted on black mules, and having long grey beards.  These were anchorites, who had lived all their days concealed in caves.  They never appeared in sight of the world, but when they were to assist at the obsequies of the sultans of Harran, and of the princes of their family.  Each of these venerable persons carried on his head a book, which he held with one hand.  They took three turns round the dome without uttering a word; then stopping before the door, one of them said, “O prince! what can we do for thee?  If thou couldst be restored to life by prayer or learning, we would rub our grey beards at thy feet, and recite prayers; but the King of the universe has taken thee away for ever.”

This said, the old men moved to a distance from the dome, and immediately fifty beautiful young maidens drew near to it; each of them mounted on a little white horse; they wore no veils, and carried gold baskets full of all sorts of precious stones.  They also rode thrice round the dome, and halting at the same place as the others had done, the youngest of them spoke in the name of all, as follows:  “O prince! once so beautiful, what relief can you expect from us?  If we could restore you to life by our charms, we would become your slaves.  But you are no longer sensible to beauty, and have no more occasion for us.”

When the young maids were withdrawn, the sultan and his courtiers arose, and having walked thrice around the tomb, the sultan spoke as follows:  “O my dear son, light of my eyes, I have then lost thee for ever!” He accompanied these words with sighs, and watered the tomb with his tears; his courtiers weeping with him.  The gate of the dome was then closed, and all the people returned to the city.  Next day there were public prayers in all the mosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively.  On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to be beheaded.  The people incensed at their cruelty towards Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed.  The scaffolds were erecting, but the execution was respited, because, on a sudden, intelligence was brought that the neighbouring princes, who had before made war on the sultan of Harran, were advancing with more numerous forces than on the first invasion, and were then not far from the city.  It had been long known that they were preparing for war, but their preparations caused no alarm.  This news occasioned general consternation, and gave new cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalized himself in the former war against the same enemies.  “Alas!” said they, “were the brave Codadad alive, we should little regard those princes who are coming to surprise us.”  The sultan, nothing dismayed, raised men with all possible speed, formed a considerable army, and being too brave to await the enemy’s coming to attack him within his walls, marched out to meet them.  They, on their side, being informed by their advanced parties that the sultan of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in the plain, and formed their army.

As soon as the sultan discovered them, he also drew up his forces, and ranged them in order of battle.  The signal was given and he attacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the opposition inferior.  Much blood was shed on both sides, and the victory remained long dubious; but at length it seemed to incline to the sultan of Harran’s enemies, who, being more numerous, were upon the point of surrounding him, when a great body of cavalry appeared on the plain, and approached the two armies.  The sight of this fresh party daunted both sides, neither knowing what to think of them:  but their doubts were soon cleared; for they fell upon the flank of the sultan of Harran’s enemies with such a furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them.  Nor did they stop here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in pieces.

The sultan of Harran, who had attentively observed all that passed, admired the bravery of this strange body of cavalry, whose unexpected arrival had given the victory to his army.  But, above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had seen fighting with a more than ordinary valour.  He longed to know the name of the generous hero.  Impatient to see and thank him, he advanced towards him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him.  The two princes drew near, and the sultan of Harran discovering Codadad in the brave warrior who had just assisted him, or rather defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise.  “Father,” said Codadad to him, “you have sufficient cause to be astonished at the sudden appearance before your majesty of a man, whom perhaps you concluded to be dead.  I should have been so had not heaven preserved me still to serve you against your enemies.”  “O my son!” cried the sultan, “is it possible that you are restored to me?  Alas!  I despaired of seeing you more.”  So saying he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to such a tender embrace.

“I know all, my son,” said the sultan again, after having long held him in his arms.  “I know what return your brothers have made you for delivering them out of the hands of the black; but you shall be revenged to-morrow.  Let us now go to the palace where your mother, who has shed so many tears on your account, expects me to rejoice with us for the defeat of our enemies.  What a joy will it be to her to be informed, that my victory is your work!” “Sir,” said Codadad, “give me leave to ask how you could know the adventure of the castle?  Have any of my brothers, repenting, owned it to you?” “No,” answered the sultan; “the princess of Deryabar has given us an account of every thing, for she is in my palace and came thither to demand justice against your brothers.”  Codadad was transported with joy, to learn that the princess his wife was at the court.  “Let us go, sir,” cried he to his father in rapture, “let us go to my mother, who waits for us.  I am impatient to dry up her tears, as well as those of the princess of Deryabar.”

The sultan immediately returned to the city with his army, and re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the people, who followed him in crowds, praying to heaven to prolong his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies.  They found Pirouzè and her daughter-in-law waiting to congratulate the sultan; but words cannot express the transports of joy they felt, when they saw the young prince with him:  their embraces were mingled with tears of a very different kind from those they had before shed for him.  When they had sufficiently yielded to all the emotions that the ties of blood and love inspired, they asked Codadad by what miracle he came to be still alive?

He answered, that a peasant mounted on a mule happening accidentally to come into the tent, where he lay senseless, and perceiving him alone, and stabbed in several places, had made him fast on his mule, and carried him to his house, where he applied to his wounds certain herbs chewed, which recovered him.  “When I found myself well,” added he, “I returned thanks to the peasant, and gave him all the diamonds I had.  I then made for the city of Harran; but being informed by the way, that some neighbouring princes had gathered forces, and were on their march against the sultan’s subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and stirred them up to undertake his defence.  I armed a great number of young men, and heading them, happened to arrive at the time when the two armies were engaged.”

When he had done speaking, the sultan said, “Let us return thanks to God for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the traitors, who would have destroyed him, should perish.”  “Sir,” answered the generous prince, “though they are wicked and ungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood:  they are my brothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon them.”  This generosity drew tears from the sultan, who caused the people to be assembled and declared Codadad his heir.  He then ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought out loaded with irons.  Pirouzè’s son struck off their chains, and embraced them all successively, with as much sincerity and affection as he had done in the court of the black’s castle.  The people were charmed with Codadad’s generosity, and loaded him with applause.  The surgeon was next nobly rewarded in requital of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar.

The story of Abou Hassan, or the sleeper
awakened.

In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at Bagdad a very rich merchant, who, having married a woman advanced in years, had but one son, whom he named Abou Hassan, and educated with great restraint:  when his son was thirty years old, the merchant dying, left him his sole heir, and master of great riches, amassed together by much frugality and close application to business.  Abou Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very different from those of his father, determined to make another use of his wealth; for as his father had never allowed him any money but what was just necessary for subsistence, and he had always envied those young persons of his age who wanted for nothing, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures to which youth are so much addicted, he resolved in his turn to distinguish himself by extravagancies proportionable to his fortune.  To this end he divided his riches into two parts; with one half he bought houses in town, and land in the country, with a resolution never to touch the income of his real estate, which was considerable enough to live upon very handsomely, but lay it all by as he received it.  With the other half, which consisted of ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he had lost by the severe restraint in which his father had always kept him.

With this intent, Abou Hassan formed a society with youths of his own age and condition, who thought of nothing but how to make their time pass agreeably.  Every day he gave them splendid entertainments, at which the most delicate viands were served up, and the most exquisite wines flowed in profusion, while concerts of the best vocal and instrumental music by performers of both sexes heightened their pleasures, and this young band of debauchees with the glasses in their hands, joined their songs with the music.  These feasts were accompanied by ballets, for which the best dancers of both sexes were engaged.  These entertainments, renewed every day, were so expensive to Abou Hassan, that he could not support the extravagance above a year:  and the great sum which he had appropriated to this prodigality and the year ended together.  As soon as he discontinued keeping this table, his friends forsook him; whenever they saw him they avoided him, and if by chance he met any of them, and went to stop them, they always excused themselves on some presence or other.

Abou Hassan was more affected by this behaviour of his friends, who had forsaken him so basely and ungratefully, after all the protestations they had made him, of inviolable attachment, than by the loss of all the money he had so foolishly squandered.  He went melancholy and thoughtful, his countenance expressive of deep vexation, into his mother’s apartment, and sat down on the end of a sofa at a distance from her.  “What is the matter with you, son?” said his mother, seeing him thus depressed.  “Why are you so altered, so dejected, and so different from yourself?  You could not certainly be more concerned, if you had lost all you had.  I know you have lived very extravagantly, and believe all your money is spent; you have still, however, a good estate; and the reason that I did not so much oppose your irregular way of living was, that I knew the wise precaution you had taken to preserve half your property.  I do not, therefore, see why you should plunge yourself into this deep melancholy.”

At these words Abou Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of his sighs exclaimed, “Ah! mother, I see at last how insupportable poverty must be; I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as the setting of the sun does of light.  As poverty makes us forget all the commendations passed upon us before our fall, it makes us endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our nights in tears and sorrow.  In short, a poor man is looked upon, both by friends and relations, as a stranger.  You know, mother, how I have treated my friends for this year past; I have entertained them with all imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money, and now they have left me, when they suppose I can treat them no longer.  For my real estate, I thank heaven for having given me grace to keep the oath I made not to encroach upon that.  I shall now know how to use what is left.  But I will, however, try how far my friends, who deserve not that I should call them so, will carry their ingratitude.  I will go to them one after another, and when I have represented to them what I have done on their account, ask them to make up a sum of money, to relieve me, merely to try if I can find any sentiment of gratitude remaining in them.”

“I do not pretend, son,” said Abou Hassan’s mother, “to dissuade you from your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you have no ground for hope.  Believe me, you will kind no relief but from the estate you have reserved.  I see you do not, but will soon, know those people, who, among persons of your sort, are generally called friends, and I wish to heaven you may know it in the manner I desire, for your own good.”  “Mother,” replied Abou Hassan, “I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall be more certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I shall have informed myself fully of their baseness and insensibility.”  Abou Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom he found at home; represented to them the great need he was in, and begged of them to assist him.  He promised to give bonds to pay them the money they might lend him; giving them to understand at the same time, that it was, in a great measure, on their account that he was so distressed.  That he might the more powerfully excite their generosity, he forgot not to allure them with the hopes of being once again entertained in the same manner as before.

Not one of his companions was affected with the arguments which the afflicted Abou Hassan used to persuade them; and he had the mortification to find, that many of them told him plainly they did not know him.

He returned home full of indignation; and going into his mother’s apartment, said, “Ah! madam, you were right; instead of friends, I have found none but perfidious ungrateful wretches, who deserve not my friendship; I renounce them, and promise you I will never see them more.”  He resolved to be as good as his word, and took every precaution to avoid falling again into the inconvenience which his former prodigality had occasioned; taking an oath never to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any entertainment while he lived.  He drew the strong box into which he had put the rents received from his estates from the recess where he had placed it in reserve, put it in the room of that he had emptied, and resolved to take out every day no more than was sufficient to defray the expense of a single person to sup with him, who, according to the oath he had taken, was not of Bagdad, but a stranger arrived in the city the same day, and who must take his leave of him the following morning.

Conformably to this plan, Abou Hassan took care every morning to provide whatever was necessary, and towards the close of the evening, went and sat at the end of Bagdad bridge; and as soon as he saw a stranger, accosted him civilly invited him to sup and lodge with him that night, and after having informed him of the law he had imposed upon himself, conducted him to his house.  The repast with which Abou Hassan regaled his guests was not costly, but well dressed, with plenty of good wine, and generally lasted till the night was pretty far advanced; instead of entertaining his guests with the affairs of state, his family, or business, as is too frequent, he conversed on different agreeable subjects.  He was naturally of so gay and pleasant a temper, that he could give the most agreeable turns to every subject, and make the most melancholy persons merry.  When he sent away his guest the next morning, he always said, “God preserve you from all sorrow wherever you go; when I invited you yesterday to come and sup with me, I informed you of the law I have imposed on myself; therefore do not take it ill if I tell you that we must never see one another again, nor drink together, either at home or any where else, for reasons best known to myself:  so God conduct you.”

Abou Hassan was very exact in the observance of this oath, and never looked upon or spoke to the strangers he had once entertained; if he met them afterwards in the streets, the squares, or any public assemblies, he affected not to see them, and turned away to avoid them, that they might not speak to him, or he have any communication with them.  He had acted for a long time in this manner, when, one afternoon, a little before sunset, as he sat upon the bridge according to custom, the caliph Haroon al Rusheed came by, but so disguised that it was impossible to know him; for that monarch, though his chief ministers and officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very punctually, would nevertheless inform himself of every thing, and for that purpose often disguised himself in different ways, and walked through the city and suburbs of Bagdad, sometimes one way and sometimes another.  That day, being the first of the month, he was dressed like a merchant of Moussul, and was followed by a tall stout slave.

As the caliph had in his disguise a grave and respectable appearance, Abou Hassan, who thought him to be a Moussul merchant, rose up, and after having saluted him with a graceful air, said to him, “Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival in Bagdad, I beg you to do me the honour to sup with me, and repose yourself at my house for this night, after the fatigue of your journey.”  He then told him his custom of entertaining the first stranger he met with.  The caliph found something so odd and singular in Abou Hassan’s whim, that he was very desirous to know the cause; and told him that he could not better merit a civility, which he did not expect as a stranger, than by accepting the obliging offer made him; that he had only to lead the way, and he was ready to follow him.

Abou Hassan treated the caliph as his equal, conducted him home, and led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him on a sofa, in the most honourable place.  Supper was ready, and the cloth laid.  Abou Hassan’s mother, who took upon herself the care of the kitchen, sent up three dishes; the first contained a capon and four large pullets, which was set in the middle; and the second and third, placed on each side, contained, one a fat roasted goose, and the other broiled pigeons.  This was all; but they were good of the kind and well flavoured, with proper sauces.

Abou Hassan sat down opposite his guest, and he and the caliph began to eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking or drinking, according to the custom of the country.  When they had done eating, the caliph’s slave brought them water to wash their hands:  and in the mean time Abou Hassan’s mother cleared the table, and brought up a dessert of all the various sorts or fruits then in season; as grapes, peaches, apples, pears, and various pastes of dried almonds, &c.  As soon as it grew dark, wax candles were lighted, and Abou Hassan, after requesting his mother to take care of the caliph’s slave, set on bottles and glasses.

Abou Hassan sitting down with the pretended Moussul merchant again, filled out a glass of wine before he touched the fruit; and holding it in his hand, said to the caliph, “You know, sir, that the cock never drinks before he calls to his hens to come and drink with him; I invite you to follow my example.  I do not know what you may think; but, for my part, I cannot reckon him a wise man who does not love wine.  Let us leave that sort of people to their dull melancholy humours, and seek for mirth, which is only to be found in a bumper.”

While Abou Hassan was drinking’ the caliph taking the glass that was set for him, said, “You are an honest fellow; I like your pleasant temper, and expect you will fill me as much.”  Abou Hassan, as soon as he had drunk, filled the caliph’s glass, and giving it to him, “Taste this wine, sir,” said he, “I will warrant it good.”  “I am well persuaded of that,” replied the caliph, laughing, “you know how to choose the best.”  “O,” replied Abou Hassan, while the caliph was drinking his glass, “one need only look in your face to be assured that you have seen the world, and know what good living is.  If,” added he in Arabic verse, “my house could think and express its joy, how happy would it be to possess you, and, bowing before you, would exclaim, ’How overjoyed am I to see myself honoured with the company of so accomplished and polite a personage, and for meeting with a man of your merit.’”

The caliph, naturally fond of merriment, was highly diverted with these sallies of Abou Hassan, and artfully promoted drinking, often asking for wine, thinking that when it began to operate, he might from his talkativeness satisfy his curiosity.  He asked him his name, his business, and how he spent his life.  “My name, sir,” replied he, “is Abou Hassan.  I lost my father, who was a merchant of Bagdad, and though not the richest, yet lived very comfortably.  When he died, he left me money enough to live free from business; but as he always kept a very strict hand over me, I was willing, when he was gone, to make up for the time I thought I had lost.  Notwithstanding this,” continued Abou Hassan, “I was more prudent than most young people who give themselves up to debauchery, without any thought, pursue it till they reduce themselves to the utmost poverty, and are forced to do penance during the rest of their lives.  To avoid this misfortune, I divided what I had left me into two parts, landed estate and ready money.  I destined the ready money to supply the expenses of entertaining my acquaintance.  I meditated, and took a fixed resolution not to touch my rents.  I associated with young people of my own age, and with my ready money, which I spent profusely, treated them splendidly every day; and in short, spared for no sort of pleasure.  But this course did not last long; for by the time the year was out, I had got to the bottom of my box, and then all my table-friends vanished.  I made a visit to every one of them successively, and represented to them the miserable condition I was in, but none of them offered to relieve me.  Upon this I renounced their friendship, and retrenched so far, as to live within the compass of my income, bound myself to keep company with none but the first stranger I might meet with coming every day into Bagdad, and to entertain him but one day and one night.  I have told you the rest before; and I thank my good fortune this day for having met with a stranger of so much worth.”

The caliph was well satisfied with this information, and said to Abou Hassan, “I cannot enough commend the measures you have taken, and the prudence with which you have acted, by forsaking your debauchery; a conduct rarely to be met with in young persons; and I esteem you the more for being steady to your resolution.  It was a slippery path you trod in, and I cannot but admire your self-command, that, after having seen the end of your ready money, you could so far refrain as not to enter upon your rents, or even your estate.  In short, I must own, I envy your situation.  You are the happiest man in the world, to enjoy every day the company of some one with whom you can discourse freely and agreeably, and to whom you give an opportunity to declare, wherever he goes, how handsome he was received by you.  But we talk too long without drinking; come, drink, and pour out a glass for me.”

In this manner the caliph and Abou Hassan conversed together, drinking and talking of indifferent subjects, till the night was pretty far advanced; when the caliph, pretending to be fatigued after his journey, told his host he stood in need of a little rest.  “But,” added he, “as I would not deprive you of yours on my account, before we part (because to-morrow I may be gone before you are stirring), I should be glad to shew you how sensible I am of your civility, and the good cheer and hospitality you have strewn me.  The only thing that troubles me is, that I know not which way to make you any acknowledgment.  I beg of you, therefore, to let me understand how I may do it’ and you shall see I will not be ungrateful; for it is impossible but a man like you must have some business, some want, or wish for something agreeable to you.  Speak freely, and open your mind; for though I am but a merchant, it may be in my power to oblige you myself, or by some friend.”

To these offers of the caliph, Abou Hassan, taking him still for a Moussul merchant, replied, “I am very well persuaded, sir, that it is not out of compliment that you make me these generous tenders; but upon the word of an honest man, I assure you, I have nothing that troubles me, no business, nor desires, and I ask nothing of any body.  I have not the least ambition, as I told you before; and am satisfied with my condition:  therefore, I can only thank you for your obliging proffers, and the honour you have done me in condescending to partake of my frugal fare.  Yet I must tell you,” pursued Abou Hassan, “there is one thing gives me uneasiness, without, however, disturbing my rest.  You must know the town of Bagdad is divided into quarters, in each of which there is a mosque with an imaum to perform service at certain hours, at the head of the quarter which assembles there.  The imaum of the division I live in is a surly curmudgeon, of an austere countenance, and the greatest hypocrite in the world.  Four old men of this neighbourhood, who are people of the same stamp, meet regularly every day at this imaum’s house.  There they vent their slander, calumny, and malice against me and the whole quarter, to the disturbance of the peace of the neighbourhood, and the promotion of dissension.  Some they threaten, others they frighten; and, in short, would be lords paramount, and have every one govern himself according to their caprice, though they know not how to govern themselves.  Indeed, I am sorry to see that they meddle with any thing but their Koraun, and will not let the world live quietly.”

“Well, I suppose,” said the caliph, “you wish to have a stop put to this disorder?” “You have guessed right,” answered Abou Hassan; “and the only thing I should pray for, would be to be caliph but for one day, in the stead of our sovereign lord and master Haroon al Rusheed, commander of the faithful.”  “What would you do if you were?” said the caliph.  “I would make examples of them,” answered Abou Hassan, “to the satisfaction of all honest men.  I would punish the four old men with each a hundred bastinadoes on the soles of their feet, and the imaum with four hundred, to teach them not to disturb and abuse their neighbours in future.”

The caliph was extremely pleased with this thought of Abou Hassan’s; and as he loved adventures, resolved to make this a very singular one.  “Indeed,” said he, “I approve much of your wish, which proceeds from an upright heart, that cannot bear the malice of such officious hypocrites; I could like to see it realized, and it is not so impossible as you may imagine.  I am persuaded that the caliph would willingly put his authority for twenty-four hours into your hands if he knew your intentions, and the good use you would make of it.  Though a foreign merchant, I have credit enough to contribute in some degree to the execution of this plan.”  “I see,” said Abou Hassan, “you laugh at my foolish fancy, and the caliph himself would laugh at my extravagance if he knew it:  yet it would be a means of informing him of the behaviour of the imaum and his companions, and induce him to chastise them.”

“Heaven forbid,” replied the caliph, “that I, who have been so handsomely entertained by you, should laugh at you; neither do I believe, as much a stranger as I am to you, that the caliph would be displeased:  but let us leave off talking; it is almost midnight, and time to go to bed.”  “With all my heart,” said Abou Hassan; “I would not be any hindrance to your going to rest; but there is still some wine in the bottle, and if you please we will drink it off first, and then retire.  The only thing that I have to recommend to you is, that when you go out in the morning, if I am not up, you will not leave the door open, but give yourself the trouble of shutting it after you.”  This the caliph promised to do:  and while Abou Hassan was talking, took the bottle and two glasses, filled his own first, saying, “Here is a cup of thanks to you,” and then filling the other, put into it artfully a little opiate powder, which he had about him and giving it to Abou Hassan, said, “You have taken the pains to fill for me all night, and it is the least I can do to save you the trouble once:  I beg you to take this glass; drink it off for my sake.”

Abou Hassan took the glass, and to shew his guest with how much pleasure he received the honour, drank it off at once; but had scarcely set the glass upon the table, when the powder began to operate; he fell into so sound a sleep, and his head knocked against his knees so suddenly, that the caliph could not help laughing.  The caliph commanded the slave he had brought with him, who entered the room as soon as he had supped, and had waited to receive orders, to take Abou Hassan upon his back, and follow him; but to be sure to observe the house, that he might know it again.  In this manner the caliph, followed by the slave with his sleeping load, went out of the house, but without shutting the door after him as he had been desired, went directly to his palace, and by a private door into his own apartment, where the officers of his chamber were in waiting, whom he ordered to undress Abou Hassan, and put him into his bed, which they immediately performed.

The caliph then sent for all the officers and ladies of the palace, and said to them, “I would have all those whose business it is to attend my levee wait to-morrow morning upon the man who lies in my bed, pay the same respect to him as to myself, and obey him in whatever he may command; let him be refused nothing that he asks, and be addressed and answered as if he were the commander of the faithful.  In short, I expect that you attend to him as the true caliph, without regarding me; and disobey him not in the least circumstance.”

The officers and ladies, who understood that the caliph meant to divert himself, answered by low bows, and then withdrew, every one preparing to contribute to the best of their power to perform their respective parts adroitly.

The caliph next sent for the grand vizier:  “Jaaffier,” said he, “I have sent for you to instruct you, and to prevent your being surprised to-morrow when you come to audience, at seeing this man seated on my throne in the royal robes:  accost him with the same reverence and respect as you pay to myself:  observe and punctually execute whatever he bids you do, the same as if I commanded you.  He will exercise great liberality, and commission you with the distribution of it.  Do all he commands; even if his liberality should extend so far as to empty all the coffers in my treasury; and remember to acquaint all my emirs, and the officers without the palace, to pay him the same honour at audience as to myself, and to carry on the matter so well, that he may not perceive the least thing that may interrupt the diversion which I design myself.”

After the grand vizier had retired, the caliph went to bed in another apartment, and gave Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, the orders which he was to execute, that every thing should succeed as he intended, so that he might see how Abou Hassan would use the power and authority of the caliph for the short time he had desired to have it.  Above all, he charged him not to fail to awaken him at the usual hour, before he awakened Abou Hassan, because he wished to be present when he arose.

Mesrour failed not to do as the caliph had commanded, and as soon as the caliph went into the room where Abou Hassan lay, he placed himself in a little raised closet, from whence he could see all that passed.  All the officers and ladies, who were to attend Abou Hassan’s levee, went in at the same time, and took their posts according to their rank, ready to acquit themselves of their respective duties, as if the caliph himself had been going to rise.

As it was just day-break, and time to prepare for the morning prayer before sun rise, the officer who stood nearest to the head of the bed put a sponge steeped in vinegar to Abou Hassan’s nose, who immediately turning his head about, without opening his eyes, discharged a kind of phlegm, which was received in a little golden basin before it fell on the carpet.  This was the usual effect of the caliph’s powder, the sleep lasting longer or shorter, in proportion to the dose.  When Abou Hassan laid down his head on the bolster, he opened his eyes; and by the dawning light that appeared, found himself in a large room, magnificently furnished, the ceiling of which was finely painted in Arabesque, adorned with vases of gold and silver, and the floor covered with a rich silk tapestry.  He saw himself surrounded by many young and handsome ladies, many of them having instruments of music in their hands, and black eunuchs richly clothed, all standing with great modesty and respect.  After casting his eyes on the covering of the bed, he perceived it was cloth of gold richly embossed with pearl and diamonds; and near the bed lay, on a cushion, a habit of tissue embroidered with jewels, with a caliph’s turban.

At the sight of these glittering objects, Abou Hassan was in the most inexpressible amazement, and looked upon all he saw as a dream; yet a dream he wished it not to be.  “So,” said he to himself, “I am caliph; but,” added he, recollecting himself, “it is only a dream, the effect of the wish I entertained my guest with last night;” and then he turned himself about and shut his eyes to sleep.  At the same time the eunuch said very respectfully, “Commander of the faithful, it is time for your majesty to rise to prayers, the morning begins to advance.”

These words very much surprised Abou Hassan.  “Am I awake, or do I sleep?” said he to himself.  “Ah, certainly I am asleep!” continued he, keeping his eyes shut; “there is no reason to doubt of it.”

Immediately the eunuch, who saw he had no inclination to get up, said again, “Your majesty must permit me to repeat once more that it is time to rise to morning prayer, unless you choose to let it pass; the sun is just rising, and you never neglect this duty.”  “I am mistaken,” said Abou Hassan immediately, “I am not asleep, but awake; for those who sleep do not hear, and I hear somebody speak to me;” then opening his eyes again, he saw plainly by broad day-light, what he had seen but indistinctly before; and started up, with a smiling countenance, like a man overjoyed at sudden promotion.  The caliph, from his recess, penetrated his thoughts with great delight.

The young ladies of the palace now prostrated themselves with their faces to the ground before Abou Hassan, and those who had instruments of music in their hands wished him a good morrow, by a concert of soft flutes, hautboys, theorboes, and other harmonious instruments, with which he was enchanted, and in such an ecstacy, that he knew not whether he was himself; but reverting to his first idea, he still doubted whether what he saw and heard was a dream or reality.  He clapped his hands before his eyes, and lowering his head, said to himself, “What means all this?  Where am I? and to whom does this palace belong?  What can these eunuchs, handsome well-dressed officers, beautiful ladies, and musicians mean:  How is it possible for me to distinguish whether I am in my right senses or in a dream?”

When he took his hands from his eyes, opened them, and lifted up his head, the sun shone full in at the chamber window; and at that instant Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, came in, prostrated himself before Abou Hassan, and said, “Commander of the faithful, your majesty will excuse me for representing to you, that you used not to rise so late, and that the time of prayer is over.  If your majesty has not had a bad night, it is time to ascend your throne and hold a council as usual; all your generals, governors, and other great officers of state, wait your presence in the council-hall.”

At this discourse, Abou Hassan was persuaded that he was neither asleep nor in a dream; but at the same time was not less embarrassed and confused under his uncertainty what steps to take:  at last, looking earnestly at Mesrour, he said to him in a serious tone, “Whom is it you speak to, and call the commander of the faithful?  I do not know you, and you must mistake me for somebody else.”

Any person but Mesrour would have been puzzled at these questions of Abou Hassan; but he had been so well instructed by the caliph, that he played his part admirably.  “My imperial lord and master,” said he, “your majesty only speaks thus to try me.  Is not your majesty the commander of the faithful, monarch of the world from east to west, and vicar on earth to the prophet sent of God?  Mesrour, your poor slave, has not forgotten you, after so many years that he has had the honour and happiness to serve and pay his respects to your majesty.  He would think himself the most unhappy of men, if he has incurred your displeasure, and begs of you most humbly to remove his fears; but had rather suppose that you have been disturbed by some troublesome dream.”

Abou Hassan burst out laughing at these words, and fell backwards upon the bolster, which pleased the caliph so much that he would have laughed as loud himself, if he had not been afraid of putting a stop too soon to the pleasant scene he had promised himself.

Abou Hassan, when he had tired himself with laughing, sat up again, and speaking to a little eunuch that stood by him, black as Mesrour, said, “Hark ye, tell me whom I am?” “Sir,” answered the little boy, modestly, “your majesty is the commander of the believers, and God’s vicar on earth.”  “You are a little liar, black face,” said Abou Hassan.  Then he called the lady that stood nearest to him; “Come hither, fair one,” said he, holding out his hand, “bite the end of my finger, that I may feel whether I am asleep or awake.”

The lady, who knew the caliph saw all that passed, was overjoyed to have an opportunity of strewing her power of diverting him, went with a grave countenance, and putting his finger between her teeth, bit it so hard that she put him to violent pain.  Snatching his hand quickly back again, he said, “I find I am awake and not asleep.  But by what miracle am I become caliph in a night’s time! this is certainly the most strange and surprising event in the world!” Then addressing himself to the same lady, he said, “I conjure you, by the protection of God, in whom you trust as well as I, not to hide the truth from me; am I really the commander of the faithful?” “It is so true,” answered the lady, “that we who are your slaves are amazed to find that you will not believe yourself to be so.”  “You are a deceiver,” replied Abou Hassan:  “I know very well who I am.”

As the chief of the eunuchs perceived that Abou Hassan now wished to rise, he offered him his hand, and helped him to get out of bed.  No sooner were his feet set on the floor, than the chamber rang with the repeated acclamations of the officers and ladies, who cried out all together, “Commander of the faithful, God give your majesty a good day.”  “O heaven!” cried Abou Hassan, “what a strange thing this is!  Last night I was Abou Hassan, and this morning I am the commander of the believers!  I cannot comprehend this sudden and surprising change.”  Presently some of the officers began to dress him; and when they had done, Mesrour led him through all the eunuchs and ladies, who were ranged on both sides, quite to the council chamber door, which was opened by one of the officers.  Mesrour walked before him to the foot of the throne, where he stopped, and putting one hand under one arm, while another officer who followed did the same by the other, they helped him to ascend the throne.  Abou Hassan sat down amidst the acclamations of the officers, who wished him all happiness and prosperity, and turning to the right and left he saw the officers of the guards ranged in order, and making a fine appearance.

The caliph in the mean time came out of the closet, and went into another, which looked into the hall, from whence he could see and hear all that passed in council, where his grand vizier presided in his place.  What pleased him highly, was to see Abou Hassan fill his throne with almost as much gravity as himself.

As soon as Abou Hassan had seated himself, the grand vizier prostrated himself at the foot of the throne, and rising, said, “Commander of the faithful, God shower down blessings on your majesty in this life, receive you into his paradise in the other world, and confound your enemies.”

Abou Hassan, after all that had happened that morning, at these words of the grand vizier, never doubted but that he was caliph, as he wished to be; and without examining any farther, how or by what adventure, or sudden change of fortune, he had become so, immediately began to exercise his power, and looking very gravely at the vizier, asked him what he had to say?  “Commander of the faithful,” replied the grand vizier, “the emirs, Vizier, and other officers of your council, wait without till your majesty gives them leave to pay their accustomed respects.”  Abou Hassan ordered the door to be opened, and the grand vizier addressing himself to the officers in waiting, said, “Chief of the door-keepers, the commander of the faithful orders you to do your duty.”

When the door was opened, the viziers, emirs, and principal officers of the court, all dressed magnificently in their habits of ceremony, went in their order to the foot of the throne, paid their respects to Abou Hassan; and bowing their heads down to the carpet, saluted him with the title of commander of the faithful, according to the instructions of the grand vizier, and afterwards took their seats.

When this ceremony was over, and they were all placed, there was a profound silence.  The grand vizier always standing before the throne, began according to the order of papers in his hand to make his report of affairs, which at that time were of very little consequence.  Nevertheless, the caliph could not but admire how Abou Hassan acquitted himself in his exalted station without the least hesitation or embarrassment, and decided well in all matters, as his own good sense suggested.  But before the grand vizier had finished his report, Abou Hassan perceived the judge of the police, whom he knew by sight, sitting in his place.  “Stop,” said he, to the grand vizier, interrupting him; “I have an order of consequence to give to the judge of the police.”  The judge of the police perceiving that Abou Hassan looked at him, and hearing his name mentioned, arose from his seat, and went gravely to the foot of the throne, where he prostrated himself with his face to the ground.  “Judge of the police,” said Abou Hassan, “go immediately to such a quarter, where you will find a mosque, seize the imaum and four old grey beards, give each of the old men a hundred bastinadoes, and the imaum four hundred.  After that, mount them all five, clothed in rags, on camels, with their faces to the tails, and lead them through the whole city, with a crier before them, who shall proclaim with a loud voice, ’This is the punishment of all those who trouble their heads with other people’s affairs, make it their business to create disturbances and misunderstandings in families in their neighbourhood, and do them all the mischief in their power.’  My intention is also, that you enjoin them to leave that quarter, and never to set foot in it more:  and while your lieutenant is conducting them through the town, return, and give me an account of the execution of my orders.”  The judge of the police laid his hand upon his head, to shew his obedience, and prostrating himself a second time retired to execute the mandate.

The caliph was highly pleased at the firmness with which this order was given, and perceived that Abou Hassan was resolved not to lose the opportunity of punishing the imaum and the other four old hypocrites of his quarter.  In the mean time the grand vizier went on with his report, and had just finished, when the judge of the police came back from executing his commission.  He approached the throne with the usual ceremony, and said, “Commander of the faithful, I found the imaum and his four companions in the mosque, which your majesty pointed out; and as a proof that I have punctually obeyed your commands, I have brought an instrument signed by the principal inhabitants of the ward.”  At the same time he pulled a paper out of his bosom, and presented it to the pretended caliph.

Abou Hassan took the paper, and reading it over cautiously with the names of the witnesses, who were all people he knew, said to the judge of the police, smiling, “It is well; I am satisfied; return to your seat.”  “These old hypocrites,” said he to himself, with an air of satisfaction “who thought fit to censure my actions, and find fault with my entertaining honest people, deserved this punishment.”  The caliph all the time penetrated his thoughts, and felt inconceivable delight at his frolic.

Abou Hassan, then addressing himself to the grand vizier, said, “Go to the high treasurer for a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and carry it to the mother of one Abou Hassan, who is known by the name of the debauchee; she lives in the same quarter to which I sent the judge of the police.  Go, and return immediately.”

The grand vizier, after laying his hand upon his head, and prostrating himself before the throne, went to the high treasurer, who gave him the money, which he ordered a slave to take, and to follow him to Abou Hassan’s mother, to whom he gave it, saying only, “The caliph makes you this present.”  She received it with the greatest surprise imaginable.

During the grand vizier’s absence, the judge of the police made the usual report of his office, which lasted till the vizier returned.  As soon as he came into the council-chamber, and had assured Abou Hassan that he had executed his orders, Mesrour, the chief of the eunuchs, made a sign to the viziers, the emirs, and other officers, that the council was over, and that they might all retire; which they did, by making the same prostration at the foot of the throne as when they entered.

Abou Hassan descended from the caliph’s throne, and Mesrour went before him, to shew him the way into an inner apartment, where there was a table spread; several eunuchs ran to tell the musicians that the sham caliph was coming, when they immediately began a concert of vocal and instrumental music, with which Abou Hassan was so charmed and transported, that he could not tell what to think of all he saw and heard.  “If this is a dream,” said he, “it is a long one.  But certainly,” continued he, “it is no dream; for I can see and feel, walk and hear, and argue reasonably; whatever it is, I trust in God; I cannot but believe that I am the commander of the faithful, for no other person could live in this splendour.  The honour and respect that has been strewn me, and the obedience paid to my commands, are sufficient proofs of my exaltation.”

In short, Abou Hassan took it for granted that he was the commander of the faithful; but was still more convinced of it when he entered a magnificent and spacious hall, which was finely painted with the brightest colours intermixed with gold.  Seven bands of female musicians, more beautiful than the others, were placed round the hall, and as many gold chandeliers hung from the ceiling, which was painted with blue and gold, intermixed with wonderful effect.  In the middle of the hall was spread a table covered with massive gold plates and dishes, which scented the apartment with the spices and amber wherewith the meat was seasoned; and seven young and most beautiful ladies, dressed in the richest habits of the most vivid colours, stood round this table, each with a fan in her hand, to fan Abou Hassan when at dinner.

If ever mortal was charmed, Abou Hassan was when he entered this stately hall.  At every step he took, he could not help stopping to contemplate at leisure all the wonders that regaled his eyes, and turned first to one side, and then to the other; which gave the caliph, who viewed him with attention, very great pleasure.  At last he sat down at the table, and presently all the ladies began to fan the new caliph.  He looked first at one, then at another, and admired the grace with which they acquitted themselves.  He told them with a smile, that he believed one of them was enough to give him all the air he wanted, and would have six of the ladies sit at table with him, three on his right hand, and three on his left; and he placed them so, that as the table was round, which way soever he turned, his eyes might be saluted with agreeable objects.

The six ladies obeyed; and Abou Hassan taking notice, that out of respect they did not eat, helped them himself, and invited them to eat in the most pressing and obliging terms.  Afterwards he asked their names, which they told him were Alabaster Neck, Coral Lips, Moon Face, Sunshine, Eye’s Delight, Heart’s Delight, and she who fanned him was Sugar Cane.  The many soft things he said upon their names shewed him to be a man of sprightly wit, and it is not to be conceived how much it increased the esteem which the caliph (who saw every thing) had already conceived for him.

When the ladies observed that Abou Hassan had done eating, one of them said to the eunuchs who waited, “The commander of the faithful will go into the hall where the dessert is laid; bring some water;” upon which they all rose from the table, and taking from the eunuch, one a gold basin, another an ewer of the same metal, and a third a towel, kneeled before Abou Hassan, and presented them to him to wash his hands.  As soon as he had done, he got up, and after an eunuch had opened the door, went, preceded by Mesrour, who never left him, into another hall, as large as the former, adorned with paintings by the best masters, and furnished with gold and silver vessels, carpets, and other rich furniture.  There seven different bands of music began a concert as soon as Abou Hassan appeared.  In this hall there were seven large lustres, a table in the middle covered with dried sweetmeats, the choicest and most exquisite fruits of the season, raised in pyramids, in seven gold basins; and seven ladies more beautiful than the others standing round it, each with a fan in her hand.

These new objects raised still greater admiration in Abou Hassan; who, after he had made a full stop, and given the most sensible marks of surprise and astonishment, went directly to the table, where sitting down, he gazed a considerable time at the seven ladies, with an embarrassment that plainly shewed he knew not to which to give the preference.  At last he ordered them all to lay aside their fans and sit down, and eat with him, telling them that it was not so hot, but he could spare them that trouble.

When the ladies were all placed about him, the first thing he did was to ask their names, which were different from the other seven, and expressed some perfection of mind or body, which distinguished them from one another:  upon which he took an opportunity, when he presented them with fruit, &c., to say something gallant.  “Eat this fig for my sake,” said he to Chain of Hearts, who sat on his right hand; “and render the fetters, with which you loaded me the first moment I saw you, more supportable.”  Then, presenting a bunch of grapes to Soul’s Torment, “Take this cluster of grapes,” said he, “on condition you instantly abate the torments which I suffer for your sake;” and so on to the rest.  By these sallies Abou Hassan more and more amused the caliph, who was delighted with his words and actions, and pleased to think he had found in him a man who diverted him so agreeably.

After Abou Hassan had tasted all the fruits in the basin, he got up and followed Mesrour into a third hall, much more magnificently furnished than the other two; where he was received by the same number of musicians and ladies, who stood round a table covered with all manner of wet sweetmeats.  After he had looked about him with new wonder, he advanced to the table, the music playing all the time till he sat down.  The seven ladies, by his order, sat down with him, helped themselves, as he desired, to what they liked best; and he afterwards informed himself of their names, which pleased him as much as the others had done, and led him to say as many soft things to them, to the great diversion of the caliph, who lost not a word.

By this time the day beginning to close, Abou Hassan was conducted into a fourth hall, much more superb and magnificently furnished, lighted with wax in seven gold lustres, which gave a splendid light.  Abou Hassan found the same number of musicians here as he had done in the three other halls, performing in concert in the most agreeable manner, and seeming to inspire greater joy; and he saw as many ladies standing round a table covered with seven gold basins filled with cakes, dried sweetmeats, and all such relishes as were calculated to promote drinking.  There he saw, which he had not observed in any of the other halls, a sideboard set out with seven large silver flagons full of the choicest wines, and by them seven crystal glasses of the finest workmanship.

Hitherto, in the three first halls, Abou Hassan had drunk nothing but water, according to the custom observed at Bagdad, from the highest to the lowest and at the caliph’s court, never to drink wine till the evening; all who transgress this rule being accounted debauchees, who dare not shew themselves in the day-time.  This custom is the more laudable, as it requires a clear head to apply to business in the course of the day; and as no wine is drunk till evening, no drunken people are seen in the streets in open day creating disturbance in the city.

As soon as Abou Hassan entered the fourth hall, he went to the table, sat down, and was a long time in a kind of ecstasy at the sight of the seven ladies who surrounded him, and were much more beautiful than any he had beheld in the other halls.  He was very desirous to know their names; but as the music played so loud, and particularly the tambour, that he could not hear them speak, he clapped his hands for the musicians to cease, when a profound silence ensued.  Taking by the hand the lady who stood on the right next to him, he made her sit down by him, and presenting her with a cake, asked her name.  “Commander of the faithful,” said the lady, “I am called Cluster of Pearls.”  “No name,” replied Abou Hassan, “could have more properly expressed your worth; and indeed your teeth exceed the finest pearls.  Cluster of Pearls,” added he, “since that is your name, oblige me with a glass of wine from your fair hand.”  The lady went to the sideboard and brought him a glass of wine, which she presented to him with a pleasant air.  Abou Hassan took the glass with a smile, and looking passionately at her, said, “Cluster of Pearls, I drink your health; I desire you to fill out as much for yourself, and pledge me.”  She ran to the sideboard, and returned with a glass in her hand; but before she drank, she sung a song, which charmed him as much by the sweetness of her voice as by its novelty.

After Abou Hassan had drunk, he made another lady sit down by him, and presenting her with what she chose in the basins, asked her name, which she told him was Morning Star.  “Your bright eyes,” said he, “shine with greater lustre than that star whose name you bear.  Do me the pleasure to bring me some wine,” which she did with the best grace in the world.  Then turning to the third lady, whose name was Day-light, he ordered her to do the same, and so on to the seventh, to the extreme satisfaction of the caliph.

When they had all filled him a glass round, Cluster of Pearls, whom he had just addressed, went to the sideboard, poured out a glass of wine, and putting in a pinch of the same powder the caliph had used the night before, presented it to Abou Hassan; “Commander of the faithful,” said she, “I beg of your majesty to take this glass of wine, and before you drink it, do me the favour to hear a song I have composed to-day, and which I flatter myself will not displease you.  I never sung it before.”  “With all my heart,” said Abou Hassan, taking the glass, “and, as commander of the faithful, I command you to sing it; for I am persuaded that so beautiful a lady cannot compose a song which does not abound with wit and pleasantry.”  The lady took a lute, and tuning it to her voice, sung with so much justness, grace, and expression, that Abou Hassan was in perfect ecstasy all the time, and was so much delighted, that he ordered her to sing it again, and was as much charmed with it as at first.

When the lady had concluded, Abou Hassan drank off his glass, and turned his head towards her to give her those praises which he thought she merited, but was prevented by the opiate, which operated so suddenly, that his mouth was instantly wide open, and his eyes close shut, and dropping his head on the cushions, he slept as profoundly as the day before when the caliph had given him the powder.  One of the ladies stood ready to catch the glass, which fell out of his hand; and then the caliph, who enjoyed greater satisfaction in this scene than he had promised himself, and was all along a spectator of what had passed, came into the hall to them, overjoyed at the success of his plan.  He ordered Abou Hassan to be dressed in his own clothes, and carried back to his house by the slave who had brought him, charging him to lay him on a sofa in the same room, without making any noise, and to leave the door open when he came away.

The slave took Abou Hassan upon his shoulders, carried him home by a back door of the palace, placed him in his own house as he was ordered, and returned with speed, to acquaint the caliph.  “Well,” said the caliph, “Abou Hassan wished only to be caliph for one day, to punish the imaum of the mosque of his quarter, and the four old men who had displeased him:  I have procured him the means of doing this, and he ought to be content.”

In the mean time, Abou Hassan, who was laid upon his sofa by the slave, slept till very late the next morning.  When the powder was worked off, he awoke, opened his eyes, and finding himself at home, was in the utmost surprise.  “Cluster of Pearls!  Morning Star!  Coral Lips!  Moon Face!” cried he, calling the ladies of the palace by their names, as he remembered them; “where are you? come hither.”

Abou Hassan called so loud, that his mother, who was in her own apartment, heard him, and running to him upon the noise he made, said “What ails you, son? what has happened to you?” At these words Abou Hassan lifted up his head, and looking haughtily at his mother, said, “Good woman! who is it you call son?” “Why you,” answered his mother very mildly; “are not you Abou Hassan my son?  It is strange that you have forgotten yourself so soon.”  “I your son! old bull!” replied Abou Hassan; “you are a liar, and know not what you say!  I am not Abou Hassan, I tell you, but the commander of the faithful!”

“Hold your tongue, son,” answered the mother “one would think you are a fool, to hear you talk thus.”  “You are an old fool yourself,” replied Abou Hassan; “I tell you once more I am the commander of the faithful, and God’s vicar on earth!” “Ah! child,” cried the mother, “is it possible that I should hear you utter such words that shew you are distracted!  What evil genius possesses you, to make you talk at this rate?  God bless you, and preserve you from the power of Satan.  You are my son Abou Hassan, and I am your mother.”

After she had used all the arguments she could think of to bring him to himself, and to shew how great an error he was in, she said, “Do not you see that the room you are now in is your own, and is not like a chamber in a palace fit for the commander of the believers? and that you have never left it since you were born, but lived quietly at home with me.  Think seriously of what I say, and do not fancy things that are not, nor ever can be.  Once more, my son, think seriously of it.”

Abou Hassan heard all these remonstrances of his mother very patiently, holding down his eyes, and clapping his hands under his chin, like a man recollecting himself, to examine the truth of what he saw and heard.  At last, he said to his mother, just as if he was awaking out of a deep sleep, and with his hand in the same posture, “I believe you are right, methinks I am Abou Hassan, you are my mother, and I am in my own room.”  Then looking at her again, and at every object before him, he added, “I am Abou Hassan, there is no doubt of it, and I cannot comprehend how this fancy came into my head.”

The mother really believed that her son was cured of the disorder of his mind, which she ascribed to a dream, began to laugh with him, and ask him questions about it; when suddenly he started up, and looking crossly at his mother, said, “Old sorceress, you know not what you say.  I am not your son, nor you my mother.  You deceive yourself and would deceive me.  I tell you I am the commander of the faithful, and you shall never persuade me to the contrary!” “For heaven’s sake, son,” said the mother, “let us leave off this discourse; recommend yourself to God, for fear some misfortune should happen to us; let us talk of something else.  I will tell you what happened yesterday in our quarter to the imaum of the mosque, and the four scheiks our neighbours:  the judge of the police came and seized them, and gave each of them I know not how many strokes with a bastinado, while a crier proclaimed, ’That such was the punishment of all those who troubled themselves about other people’s business, and employed themselves in setting their neighbours at variance:’  he afterwards led them through all the streets, and ordered them never to come into our quarter again.”  Abou Hassan’s mother little thought her son had any share in this adventure, and therefore had turned the discourse on purpose to put him out of the conceit of being the commander of the faithful; but instead of effacing that idea, she recalled it, and impressed the more deeply in his mind, that it was not imaginary but real.

Abou Hassan no sooner heard this relation, but he cried out, “I am neither thy son, nor Abou Hassan, but certainly the commander of the believers.  I cannot doubt after what you have told me.  Know then that it was by my order the imaum and the four scheiks were punished, and I tell you I am certainly the commander of the faithful:  therefore say no more of its being a dream.  I was not asleep, but as much awake as I am now.  You do me much pleasure to confirm what the judge of the police told me he had executed punctually according to my order; I am overjoyed that the imaum and the four scheiks, those great hypocrites, were so chastised, and I should be glad to know how I came here.  God be praised for all things!  I am certainly commander of the faithful, and all thy arguments shall not convince me of the contrary.”

The mother, who could not imagine why her son so strenuously and positively maintained himself to be caliph, no longer doubted but that he had lost his senses, when she found he insisted so much on a thing that was so incredible; and in this thought said, “I pray God, son, to have mercy upon you!  Pray do not talk so madly.  Beseech God to forgive you, and give you grace to talk more reasonably.  What would the world say to hear you rave in this manner?  Do you not know that ‘walls have ears?’”

These remonstrances only enraged Abou Hassan the more; and he was so provoked at his mother, that he said, “Old woman, I have desired you once already to hold your tongue.  If you do not, I shall rise and give you cause to repent all your lifetime.  I am the caliph and the commander of the believers; and you ought to credit me when I say so.”

The good woman supposing that he was more distracted than ever, abandoned herself to tears, and beating her face and breast, expressed the utmost grief and astonishment to see her son in such a state.  Abou Hassan, instead of being appeased or moved by his mother’s tears, lost all the respect due from a son to his mother.  Getting up hastily, and laying hold of a switch, he ran to his mother in great fury, and in a threatening manner that would have frightened any one but a mother so partial to him, said, “Tell me directly, wicked woman, who I am.”  “I do not believe, son,” replied she, looking at him tenderly, and without fear, “that you are so abandoned by God as not to know your mother, who brought you into the world, and to mistake yourself.  You are indeed my son Abou Hassan, and are much in the wrong to arrogate to yourself the title which belongs only to our sovereign lord the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, especially after the noble and generous present the monarch made us yesterday.  I forgot to tell you, that the grand vizier Jaaffier came to me yesterday, and putting a purse of a thousand pieces of gold into my hands, bade me pray for the commander of the faithful, who had sent me that present; and does not this liberality concern you more than me, who have but a short time to live?”

At these words Abou Hassan grew quite mad.  The circumstance of the caliph’s liberality persuaded him more than ever that he was caliph, remembering that he had sent the vizier.  “Well, old hag,” cried he, “will you be convinced when I tell you that I sent you those thousand pieces of gold by my grand vizier Jaaffier, who obeyed my commands, as I was commander of the faithful?  But instead of believing me, you endeavour to distract me by your contradictions, and maintain with obstinacy that I am your son; but you shall not go long unpunished.”  After these words, he was so unnatural, in the height of his frenzy, as to beat her cruelly with his cane.

The poor mother, who could not have thought that her son would have come so soon from words to blows, called out for help so loud, that the neighbours ran in to her assistance.  Abou Hassan continued to beat her, at every stroke asking her if he was the commander of the faithful? to which she always answered tenderly, that he was her son.

By the time the neighbours came in Abou Hassan’s rage began to abate.  The first who entered the room got between him and his mother, and taking the switch out of his hand, said to him, “What are you doing, Abou Hassan? have you lost all fear of God and your reason?  Did ever a son so well brought up as you dare to strike his mother? are you not ashamed so to treat yours, who loves you so tenderly?” Abou Hassan, still full of fury, looked at him who spoke without returning an answer; and then staring on all the rest of his neighbours who had followed, said, “Who is that Abou Hassan you speak of?  Is it me you call by that name?”

This question disconcerted the neighbours.  “How!” said he who spoke first, “do not you know your mother who brought you up, and with whom you have always lived?” “Be gone, you are impertinent vagabonds,” replied Abou Hassan; “I neither knew her nor you, and will not know her.  I am not Abou Hassan; I am the commander of the faithful, and will make you feel it to your cost.”

At this speech the neighbours no longer doubted that he was mad:  and to prevent his repeating his outrages, seized him, notwithstanding his resistance, and bound him hand and foot, But though apparently disabled from doing any mischief, they did not choose to leave him alone with his mother.  Two of them ran for the keeper of the hospital for insane persons, who came presently with chains, handcuffs, a bastinado, and many attendants.  When they entered the room, Abou Hassan, who little expected such treatment, struggled to unloose himself; but after his keeper had given him two or three smart strokes upon the shoulders, he lay so quiet, that the keeper and his people did what they pleased with him.  As soon as they had bound and manacled him, they took him with them to the hospital.  When he was got out of the house into the street, the people crowded round him, one buffeted him, another boxed him, and others called him fool and madman.  To all this treatment he replied, “There is no greatness and power but in God most high and almighty.  I am treated as a fool, though I am in my right senses.  I suffer all these injuries and indignities for the love of God.”  He was conducted to the hospital, where he was lodged in a grated cell; but before he was shut up, the keeper, who was hardened to such terrible execution, regaled him without pity with fifty strokes of the bastinado on his shoulders, which he repeated every day for three weeks, bidding him remember that he was not the commander of the faithful.  “I am not mad,” said Abou Hassan, “but if I wanted your assistance, nothing would so effectually make me mad as your cruel treatment.  I want not your advice.”

Abou Hassan’s mother went every day to visit her son, and could not forbear weeping at beholding him fall away, and sigh and complain at the hardships he endured.  In short, his shoulders, back, and sides were so black and bruised, that he could not turn himself.  His mother would willingly have talked with him, to comfort him, and to sound him whether he still retained the notion of being caliph; but whenever she opened her mouth, he stopped her with so much fury, that she was forced to leave him, and return home inconsolable at his obstinacy.

By degrees, however, those strong and lively ideas, which Abou Hassan had entertained, of having been clothed in the caliph’s habit, having exercised his authority, and been punctually obeyed and treated like the true caliph, the assurance of which had persuaded him that he was so, began to wear away.  Sometimes he would say to himself, “If I was the caliph and commander of the believers, how came I, when I awoke, to find myself at home dressed in my own apparel?  Why should I not have been attended by eunuchs, and their chief, and a crowd of beautiful ladies?  Why should the grand vizier, and all those emirs and governors of provinces, who prostrated themselves at my feet, forsake me?  Undoubtedly if I had any authority over them, they would have delivered me long ago out of the miserable condition I am in; certainly I ought to look upon all as a dream.  It is true, however, that I commanded the judge of the police to punish the imaum, and the four old men his companions; I ordered the grand vizier to carry my mother a thousand pieces of gold; and my commands were executed.  All these points are obstacles to my believing it a dream; but there are so many things that I cannot comprehend, nor ever shall, that I will put my trust in God, who knows all things.”

Abou Hassan was taken up with these thoughts and reflections when his mother came to see him.  She found him so much altered and emaciated that she shed a torrent of tears; in the midst of which she saluted him as she used to do, and he returned her salutation, which he had never done before since he had been in the hospital.  This she looked upon to be a good sign.  “Well, my son,” said she, wiping her tears, “how do you do, and how do you find yourself?  Have you renounced all those whims and fancies which the devil had put into your head?” “Indeed, mother,” replied Abou Hassan, very rationally and calmly, and in a tone expressive of his grief for the excesses he had been transported to against her, “I acknowledge my error, and beg of you to forgive the execrable crime which I have been guilty of towards you, and which I detest.  I ask pardon also of my neighbours whom I have abused.  I have been deceived by a dream; but by so extraordinary a one, and so like to truth, that I venture to affirm any other person, to whom such a thing might have happened, would have been guilty of as great or greater extravagancies; and I am this instant so much perplexed about it, that while I am speaking I can hardly persuade myself but that what befell me was matter of fact, so like was it to what happens to people who are broad awake.  But whatever it was, I do, and shall always regard it as a dream and an illusion.  I am convinced that I am not that shadow of a caliph and commander of the faithful, but Abou Hassan your son, the son of a person whom I always honoured till that fatal day, the remembrance of which will cover me with confusion, and whom in future I shall honour and respect all my life as I ought.”

At this rational declaration, the tears of sorrow and affliction which the mother of Abou Hassan had so long shed were changed into those of joy.  “My son!” cried she, transported with pleasure, “my satisfaction and comfort to hear you talk so reasonably is inexpressible:  and it gives me as much joy as if I had brought you into the world a second time; but I must tell you my opinion of this adventure, and observe one thing which you may not have noticed; the stranger whom you brought home the evening before your illness to sup with you went away without shutting your chamber-door after him, as you desired; which I believe gave the devil an opportunity to enter, and throw you into the horrible illusion you have been in:  therefore, my son, you ought to return God thanks for your deliverance, and beseech him to keep you from falling again into the snares of the evil spirit.”

“You have found out the source of our misfortunes,” answered Abou Hassan.  “It was that very night I had this dream which turned my brain.  I bade the merchant expressly to shut the door after him; and now I find he did not do it.  I am persuaded, as well as you, the devil finding it open came in, and filled my head full of these fancies.  The people of Moussul, from whence this merchant came, may not know how we at Bagdad are convinced from experience that the devil is the cause of troublesome dreams when we leave our chamber-doors open.  But since, mother, you see I am, by the grace of God, so well recovered, for God’s sake get me out of this horrible place, which will infallibly shorten my days if I stay here any longer.”  The mother, glad to hear her son was so well cured of his foolish imagination of being caliph, went immediately to the keeper, and assuring him that he was very sensible and well, he came, examined, and released him in her presence.

When Abou Hassan came home, he stayed within doors some days to recover his health by better living than he had found at the hospital.  But when he had recovered his strength, and felt no longer the effect of the harsh treatment he had suffered in his confinement, he began to be weary of spending his evenings alone.  He accordingly entered again upon the same plan as he had before pursued; which was, to provide enough every day to regale a stranger at night.

The day on which Abou Hassan renewed his custom of going about sun-set to the end of Bagdad bridge to stop the first stranger thee offered, and invite him to do him the honour of supping with him, happened to be the first day of the month, that which the caliph always set apart to go in disguise out of some one of the gates to observe what was committed contrary to the good government of the city, as established and regulated at the beginning of his reign.  Abou Hassan had not been long arrived at the bridge, when, looking about him, he perceived the Moussul merchant, followed by the same slave.  Persuaded that all his misfortunes were owing to the merchant’s having left his door open, he shuddered at the sight of him.  “God preserve me,” said he to himself; “if I am not deceived, there is again the magician who enchanted me!” He trembled with agitation, and looked over the side railing into the river, that he might not see him till he was past.

The caliph, who wished to renew the diversion he had received, had taken care to inform himself of all that had happened to Abou Hassan, and enjoyed much pleasure at the relation given him, especially at his being sent to a mad-house.  But as this monarch was both just and generous, and had taken a great liking to Abou Hassan, as capable of contributing further to his amusement, and had doubted whether, after renouncing his frenzied character of a caliph, he would return to his usual manner of living; with a view therefore to bring him to his palace, he disguised himself again like a merchant of Moussul, the better to execute his plan.  He perceived Abou Hassan at the same time that he saw him, and presently guessed by his action that he was angry, and wished to shun him.  This made him walk close to the side railing; and when he came nigh him, he put his head over to look him in the face.  “Ho, brother Abou Hassan,” said he, “is it you?  I greet you!  Give me leave to embrace you?”

“Not I,” replied Abou Hassan, pettishly, without looking at the pretended Moussul merchant; “I do not greet you; I will have neither your greeting nor your embraces.  Go along!”

“What!” answered the caliph, “do you not know me?  Do you not remember the evening we spent together at your house this day month, where you did me the honour to treat me very generously?” “No,” replied Abou Hassan in the same tone, “I do not know you, nor what you talk about; go, I say again, about your business.”

The caliph was not to be diverted from his purpose by this rude behaviour.  He well knew the law Abou Hassan had imposed on himself, never to have commerce again with a stranger he had once entertained; but pretended to be ignorant of it.  “I cannot believe,” said he, “but you must know me again; it is not possible that you should have forgotten me in so short a time.  Certainly some misfortune has befallen you, which inspires you with this aversion for me.  However, you ought to remember, that I shewed my gratitude by my good wishes, and that I offered you my interest, which is not to be slighted, in an affair which you had much at heart.”

“I do not know,” replied Abou Hassan, “what your interest may be, and I have no desire to make use of it:  but I am sensible the utmost of your good wishes ended in making me mad.  In God’s name, I say once more, go your way, and trouble me no more.”

“Ah! brother Abou Hassan,” replied the caliph, embracing him, “I do not intend to part with you thus, since I have had the good fortune to meet with you a second time; you must exercise the same hospitality towards me again that you shewed me a month ago, when I had the honour to drink with you.”

“I have protested against this,” said Abou Hassan, “and have so much power over myself, as to decline receiving a second time as my guest, a man like you who carries misfortunes with him.  You know the proverb, ‘Take up your drum and begone.’  Make the application to yourself.  How often must I repeat my refusal.  God be with you!  You have been the cause of my sufferings, and I will not trust myself with you again.”  “My good friend Abou Hassan,” said the caliph, embracing him, “you treat me in a way I little expected.  I beg of you not to speak to me thus harshly, but be persuaded of my friendship.  Do me the favour to tell me what has happened to you; for I assure you I wished you well, and still do so; and would be glad of an opportunity to make you any amends for the trouble I have caused you, if it has been really my fault.”  Abou Hassan yielded to the solicitations of the caliph.  “Your incredulity and importunity,” said he, “have tired my patience; and what I am going to relate will shew you that I do not accuse you wrongfully.”

The caliph seated himself by Abou Hassan, while he told him all that had happened to him, from his waking in the palace to his waking again in his own house, all which he described as a mere dream, and recounted all the circumstances, which the caliph knew as well as himself, and which renewed his pleasure.  He enlarged afterwards on the impression which the dream of being caliph and commander of the faithful had made upon him, which, he said, threw him into such extravagancies, that his neighbours were obliged to carry him to a mad-house, where he was treated in a manner which he deemed most barbarous and inhuman.  “But,” said he, “what will surprise you, and what you little think of, is, that it was altogether your fault that these things happened to me; for, if you remember, I desired you to shut the door after you, which you neglected, and the devil, finding it open, entered and put this dream into my head, which, though it was very agreeable, was the cause of the misfortune I complain of:  you therefore, for your negligence, are answerable for the horrid and detestable crime I have committed in lifting my hand against my mother, whom I might have killed (I blush for shame when I think of it), because she said I was her son, and would not acknowledge me for commander of the faithful, as I thought and positively insisted on to her that I was.  You are the cause of the offence I have given my neighbours, when, running in at the cries of my poor mother, they surprised me in the horrid act of felling her at my feet; which would never have happened, if you had taken care to shut my door when you went away, as I desired you.  They would not have come into my house without my leave; and, what troubles me most of all, they would not have been witnesses of my folly.  I should not have been obliged to strike them in my own defence, and they would not have bound and fettered me, to carry and shut me up in the hospital for madmen, where I assure you every day that I remained confined in that hell, I received a score of strokes with a bastinado.”  Abou Hassan recounted his complaints with great warmth and vehemence to the caliph, who knew as well as himself what had passed, and was delighted to find that he had succeeded so well in his plan to throw him into the vagaries from which he still was not entirely free.  He could not help laughing at the simplicity wherewith he related them.

Abou Hassan, who thought that his story should rather have moved compassion, and that every one ought to be as much concerned at it as himself, warmly resented the pretended Moussul merchant’s laughter.  “What!” said he, “do you make a jest of me and laugh in my face, or do you believe I laugh at you when I speak seriously?  If you want proof of what I advance, look yourself and see whether or no I tell you the truth;” with that, stooping down and baring his shoulders, he shewed the caliph the scars and weals which the bastinado had left.

The caliph could not behold these marks of cruelty without horror.  He pitied Abou Hassan, and felt sorry he had carried the jest so far.  “Come, rise, dear brother,” said he to him eagerly, and embracing Abou Hassan heartily in his arms; “let me go to your house, and enjoy the happiness of being merry with you to-night; and to-morrow, if it please God, all things will go well.”

Abou Hassan, notwithstanding his resolution never to admit the same stranger a second time, could not resist the caresses of the caliph, whom he still took for a merchant of Moussul.  “I will consent,” said he, “if you will swear to shut my door after you, that the devil may not come in to distract my brain again.”  The caliph promised that he would; upon which they both arose, walked towards the city, and, followed by the caliph’s slave, reached Abou Hassan’s house by the time it was dark.

The caliph, the more to blind Abou Hassan, said to him, “Place confidence in me; I promise you on my honour I will not break my word.  You need not hesitate to trust a person who wishes you all happiness and prosperity, of which confidence you will see the effects.”  “I desire not that,” said Abou Hassan, stopping him short.  “I yield to your importunity; but I dispense with your good wishes, and beg you in God’s name to form none for me.  All the mischief that has hitherto befallen me arose from those you expressed for me, and from your leaving the door open.”  “Well,” replied the caliph, still laughing at the misguided imagination of Abou Hassan, “since you will have it so, I promise you I will form none.”  “You give me pleasure by speaking so,” said Abou Hassan; “I desire no more; I shall be more than satisfied provided you keep your word, and I shall forgive you all the rest.”

As soon as Abou Hassan entered his house, he called for his mother and for candles, desired his guest to sit down upon a sofa, and then placed himself by him.  A little time after, supper was brought up, and they both began to eat without ceremony.  When they had done, Abou Hassan’s mother cleared the table, set on a small dessert of fruit, wine, and glasses by her son, then withdrew, and appeared no more.  Abou Hassan first filled out his own glass, and then the caliph’s:  and after they had drunk some time, and talked of indifferent matters, the caliph, perceiving that his host grew warm with liquor, began to talk of love, and asked him if he had ever felt that passion.

“Brother,” replied Abou Hassan, familiarly thinking his guest was his equal, “I never looked upon love or marriage but as a slavery, to which I was always unwilling to submit; and must own to you, that I never loved any thing but good cheer and good wine; in short, to divert and entertain myself agreeably with my friends.  Yet I do not tell you that I am indifferent to marriage, or incapable of attachment, if I could meet with a woman of such beauty and sweetness of temper as her I saw in my dream that fatal night in which I first received you into my house, and you, to my misfortune, left my door open, who would pass the whole night with me drinking, singing, and playing on some instrument, and in agreeable conversation, and who would study to please and divert me:  I believe, on the contrary, I should change all my indifference into a perfect attachment to such a person, and, I think, should live very happily with her.  But where is such a woman to be found except in the caliph’s palace, or in those of the grand vizier or some great lords of the court, who want not money to provide them?  I choose therefore to stick to my bottle, which is a much cheaper pleasure, and which I can enjoy as well as the greatest.”  Saying these words, he filled out his own and the caliph’s glass, and said, “Come, take your glass, and let us pursue this charming pleasure.”

When they had drunk off their wine, “It is great pity,” said the caliph, “that so gallant a man as you, who owns himself not insensible of love, should lead so solitary a life.”  “I prefer the easy quiet life I live,” replied Abou Hassan, “before the company of a wife, whose beauty might not please me, and who, besides, might create me a great deal of trouble by her imperfections and ill-humour.”  The conversation lasted a long time, and the caliph seeing Abou Hassan had drunk to the pitch he desired, said, “Let me alone, since you have the same good taste as every other honest man, I warrant you I will find you a wife that shall please you.”  Then taking Abou Hassan’s glass, and putting a pinch of the same powder into it, filled him up a bumper, and presenting it to him, said, “Come, let us drink beforehand the fair lady’s health, who is to make you happy.  I am sure you will like her.”

Abou Hassan took the glass laughing, and shaking his head, said, “Be it so; since you desire it, I cannot be guilty of so great a piece of incivility, nor disoblige a guest of so much merit in such a trifling matter.  I will drink the health of the lady you promise me, though I am very well contented as I am, and do not rely on your keeping your word.”  No sooner had Abou Hassan drank off his bumper, than he was seized with as deep a sleep as before; and the caliph ordered the same slave to take him and carry him to the palace.  The slave obeyed, and the caliph, who did not intend to send back Abou Hassan as before, shut the door after him, as he had promised, and followed.

When they arrived at the palace, the caliph ordered Abou Hassan to be laid on a sofa, in the fourth hall, from whence he had been carried home fast asleep a month before; but first he bade the attendants to put him on the same habit in which he had acted the caliph, which was done.  He then charged all the eunuchs, officers, ladies, and musicians who were in the hall, when he drank the last glass of wine which had put him to sleep, to be there by daybreak, and to take care to act their parts well when he should awake.  He then retired to rest, charging Mesrour to awake him before they went into the hall, that he might conceal himself in the closet as before.

Mesrour, at the hour appointed, awakened the caliph, who immediately rose, and went to the hall where Abou Hassan lay still asleep, and when he had placed himself in his closet, Mesrour and the other officers, ladies, and musicians, who waited for him, went in, and placed themselves about the sofa, so as not to hinder the caliph from seeing what passed, and noticing all his actions.

Things being thus disposed, and the caliph’s powder having had its effect, Abou Hassan began to awake without opening his eyes, and threw off the phlegm, which was received in a gold basin as before.  At that instant, the seven bands of singers joined their voices to the sound of hautboys, fifes, flutes, and other instruments, forming a very agreeable concert.  Abou Hassan was in great surprise to hear the delightful harmony; but when he opened his eyes, and saw the ladies and officers about him, whom he thought he recognized, his amazement increased.  The hall that he was in seemed to be the same he had seen in his first dream, and he observed the same lustres, and the same furniture and ornaments.

The concert ceased, to give the caliph an opportunity of attending to the countenance of his guest, and all that he might say in his surprise.  The ladies, Mesrour, and all the officers of the chamber, waited in profound and respectful silence.  Abou Hassan bit his finger, and cried loud enough for the caliph to hear him, “Alas!  I am fallen again into the same dream and illusion that happened to me a month ago, and must expect again the bastinado and grated cell at the mad-house.  Almighty God,” added he, “I commit myself into the hands of thy divine providence.  He was a wicked man that I entertained at my house last night, who has been the cause of this illusion, and the hardships I must again undergo.  The base wretch swore to shut the door after him, but did not, and the devil came in and has turned my brain with this wicked dream of being commander of the faithful, and other phantoms which bewitch my eyes.  God confound thee, Satan? and crush thee under some mountain of stones.”

After these words, Abou Hassan closed his eyes, and remained some time thoughtful and much perplexed; then opening them again, and looking about him, cried out a second time with less surprise, and smiling at the various objects before him, “Great God!  I commit myself into the hands of thy providence, preserve me from the temptation of Satan.”  Then shutting them again, he said, “I will go to sleep until Satan leaves me, and returns as he came, were I to wait till noon.”  They did not give him time to go to sleep again as he promised himself; for Strength of Hearts, one of the ladies whom he had seen before, approached, and sitting down on the sofa by him, said to him respectfully, “Commander of the faithful, I entreat your majesty to forgive me for taking the liberty to tell you not to go to sleep; day appears, and it is time to rise.”  “Begone, Satan!” answered Abou Hassan, raising his voice; but looking at the lady, he said, “Is it me you call the commander of the faithful?  Certainly you take me for somebody else.”  “It is to your majesty I give that title,” replied the lady, “to whom it belongs, as you are sovereign of the world, and I am your most humble slave.  Undoubtedly,” added she, “your majesty means to divert yourself by pretending to have forgotten yourself, or this is the effect of some troublesome dream; but if you would but open your eyes, the mists which disturb your imagination would soon be dispelled, and you would find yourself in your own palace, surrounded by your officers and slaves, who all wait your commands:  and that your majesty may not be surprised to find yourself in this hall, and not in bed, I beg leave to inform you, that you fell so suddenly asleep last night, that we were unwilling to awake you, to conduit you to your chamber, but laid you carefully upon this sofa.”  In short, she said to him so many things which appeared probable, that at last he sat up, opened his eyes, and recollected her and all the ladies again.  They all approached him, and she who spoke first, resuming the discourse, said, “Commander of the faithful, and vicar of the prophet on earth, be not displeased if I acquaint your majesty once more that it is time to rise, for day appears.”

“You are very troublesome and importunate,” replied Abou Hassan, rubbing his eyes; “I am not the commander of the faithful, but Abou Hassan; I know it well, and you shall not persuade me otherwise.”  “We do not know that Abou Hassan you majesty speaks of, nor desire to know him,” answered the lady; “but we know you to be the commander of the believers, and you cannot persuade us to the contrary.”

Abou Hassan looking about, and finding himself in the same hall, attributed all he saw and heard to such a dream as he had had before, and greatly feared the dreadful consequences.  “Allah have mercy on me!” said he, lifting up his hands and eyes, like a man who knew not where he was; “I commit myself into his hands.  I cannot doubt, after what I have seen, but that the devil, who came into my chamber, possesses me, and fills my imagination full of all these visions.”

The caliph, who saw him all the time, and heard these exclamations, began to shake so heartily, that he had much difficulty to forbear bursting into loud laughter.

Abou Hassan laying himself down again, and shutting his eyes, the same lady said, “Commander of the faithful, since your majesty does not rise, after we have, according to our duty, informed you it is day, and the dispatch of business requires your presence, we shall use the liberty you give us in such cases.”  Then taking him by one arm, and calling to one of the other ladies to do the same by the other, they lifted him up, and carried him into the middle of the hall, where they seated him, and all taking hands, danced and skipped round him while the music played and sounded loudly in his ears.

Abou Hassan was in inexpressible perplexity, and exclaimed, “What! am I indeed caliph, and commander of the faithful!” And in his uncertainty, would have said more, but the music was so loud, that he could not be heard.  At last he made a sign to String of Pearls and Morning Star, two of the ladies who were dancing, that he wanted to speak with them; upon which they forbore, and went to him.  “Do not lie now,” said he, “but tell me truly who I am?”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied Morning Star, “your majesty means either to surprise us, by asking this question, as if you did not know that you are commander of the faithful, and vicar on earth of the prophet of God, master of both worlds, that whereon we now are and that to come after death, or else you must have had some extraordinary dream that has made you forget who you are; which may well be, considering that your majesty has slept longer than ordinary; however, if you will give me leave, I will refresh your memory with what passed yesterday.”  She then told him how he went to council, punished the imaum, and the four old men, and had sent a present by his grand vizier of a thousand pieces of gold to the mother of one Abou Hassan; what he did in the inner part of the palace, and what passed at the three meals which he took in the three halls, adding, “In the fourth your majesty did us the honour to make us sit down by you, to hear our songs, and received wine from our hands, until your majesty fell asleep, as Strength of Hearts has told you.  From that time your majesty has continued, contrary to custom, in a sound sleep until now.  Strength of Hearts, all your other slaves, and the officers present, can confirm what I say, and it is now time you should go to prayers.”

“Very well,” replied Abou Hassan, shaking his head, “you would have me believe all this; but I tell you, you are all fools, or mad, and that is great pity, for you are very handsome.  Since I saw you I have been at home, where I used my mother so ill that they sent me to a mad-house, and kept me there three weeks against my will, beat me unmercifully every day, and yet you would make me believe all this to be a dream.”  “Commander of the faithful,” answered Morning Star, “you are mistaken, we are ready to swear by all your majesty holds most dear, that all you relate can be only a dream.  You have never stirred out of this hall since yesterday, but slept here all night.”

The confidence with which the lady assured Abou Hassan that all she said was truth, and that he had never been out of the hall since that time, bewildered his senses so that he was at a loss what to believe.  “O Heaven!” said he to himself, “am I Abou Hassan, or the commander of the faithful!  Almighty God, enlighten my understanding, and inform me of the truth, that I may know what to trust.”  He then uncovered his shoulders, and shewed the ladies the livid weals of the blows he had received.  “Look,” said he, “judge whether these strokes could come to me in a dream, or when I was asleep.  For my part, I can affirm, that they were real blows; I feel the smart of them yet, and that is a testimonial there is no room to doubt.  Now if I received these strokes in my sleep, it is the most extraordinary thing in the world, and surpasses my comprehension.”

In this uncertainty Abou Hassan called to one of the officers that stood near him:  “Come hither,” said he, “and bite the tip of my ear, that I may know whether I am asleep or awake.”  The officer obeyed, and bit so hard, that he made him cry out loudly with the pain; the music struck up at the same time, and the officers and ladies all began to sing, dance, and skip about Abou Hassan, and made such a noise, that he was in a perfect ecstasy, and played a thousand ridiculous pranks.  He threw off his caliph’s habit, and his turban, jumped up in his shirt and drawers, and taking hold of two of the ladies’ hands, began singing, jumping and cutting capers, so that the caliph could not contain himself, but burst into such violent laughter, that he fell backwards, and was heard above the noise of all the musicians.  He was so long before he could check himself, that it had like to have been fatal.  At last he got up, opened the lattice, and putting out his head, cried “Abou Hassan, Abou Hassan, have you a mind to kill me with laughing?”

As soon as the caliph’s voice was heard, every body was silent, and Abou Hassan, among the rest, who, turning his head to see from whence the voice came, knew the caliph, and in him recognised the Moussul merchant, but was not in the least daunted; on the contrary he became convinced that he was awake, and that all that had happened to him had been real, and not a dream.  He entered into the caliph’s pleasantry.  “Ha! ha!” said he, looking at him with good assurance, “you are a merchant of Moussul, and complain that I would kill you; you have been the occasion of my using my mother so ill, and of my being sent to a mad-house.  It was you who treated the imaum and the four scheiks in the manner they were used, and not me; I wash my hands of it.  It is you who have been the cause of all my disorders and sufferings:  in short, you are the aggressor, and I the injured person.”

“Indeed, you are in the right, Abou Hassan,” answered the caliph, laughing all the while; “but to comfort you, and make you amends for all your troubles, I call Heaven to witness, I am ready and willing to make you what reparation you please to ask.”  After these words, he came out of the closet into the hall, ordered one of his most magnificent habits to be brought, commanded the ladies to dress Abou Hassan in it, and when they had done, he said, embracing him, “Thou art my brother; ask what thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied Abou Hassan, “I beg of your majesty to do me the favour to tell me what you did to disturb my brain in this manner, and what was your design; for it is a thing of the greatest importance for me to know, that I may perfectly recover my senses.”

The caliph was ready to give him this satisfaction, and said, “First, you are to know, that I often disguise myself, and particularly at night, to observe if all goes right in Bagdad; and as I wish to know what passes in its environs, I set apart the first day of every month to make an excursion, sometimes on one side, sometimes on another, and always return by the bridge.  The evening that you invited me to supper, I was beginning my rounds, and in our conversation you told me, that the only thing you wished for was to be caliph for four-and-twenty hours, to punish the imaum of your mosque and his four counsellors.  I fancied that this desire of yours would afford me diversion, and thought immediately how I might procure you the satisfaction you wished.  I had about me a certain powder, which immediately throws the person who takes it into a sound sleep for a certain time.  I put a dose of it, without being perceived by you, into the last glass I presented to you, upon which you fell fast asleep, and I ordered my slave to carry you to my palace, and came away without shutting the door.  I have no occasion to repeat what happened when you awoke, nor during the whole day till evening, but after you had been regaled by my orders, one of the ladies put another dose of the same powder into a glass she gave you; you fell asleep as before, and the same slave carried you home, and left the door open.  You have told me all that happened to you afterwards.  I never imagined that you could have suffered so much as you have done.  But as I have a great regard for you, I will do every thing to comfort you, and make you forget all your sufferings; think of what I can do to serve you, and ask me boldly what you wish.”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied Abou Hassan, “how great soever my tortures may have been, they are all blotted out of my remembrance, since I understand my sovereign lord and master had a share in them.  I doubt not in the least of your majesty’s bounty; but as interest never governed me, and you give me liberty to ask a favour, I beg that it may be that of having access to your person, to enjoy the happiness of admiring, all my lifetime, your virtues.”

This proof of disinterestedness in Abou Hassan confirmed the esteem the caliph had entertained for him.  “I am pleased with your request,” said he, “and grant you free access to my person at all times and all hours.”  At the same time he assigned him an apartment in the palace, and, in regard to his pension, told him, that he would not have him apply to his treasurer, but come always to him for an order upon him, and immediately commanded his private treasurer to give him a purse containing a thousand pieces of gold.  Abou Hassan made a low prostration, and the caliph left him to go to council.

Abou Hassan took this opportunity to go and inform his mother of his good fortune, and that what had happened was not a dream; for that he had actually been caliph, had acted as such, and received all the honours; and that she had no reason to doubt of it, since he had this confirmed by the caliph himself.

It was not long before this story of Abou Hassan was spread throughout Bagdad, and carried into all the provinces both far and near, without the omission of a single circumstance.

The new favourite Abou Hassan was always with the caliph; for, as he was a man of a pleasant temper, and created mirth wherever he went by his wit and drollery, the caliph formed no party of diversion without him, and sometimes carried him to visit his consort Zobeide, to whom he had related his story.  Zobeide, who observed that every time he came with the caliph, he had his eyes always fixed upon one of her slaves, called Nouzhatoul-aouadat, resolved to tell the caliph of it.  “Commander of the faithful,” said she one day, “you do not observe that every time Abou Hassan attends you in your visits to me, he never keeps his eyes off Nouzhatoul-aouadat, and makes her blush, which is almost a certain sign that she entertains no aversion for him.  If you approve of it, we will make a match between them.”

“Madam,” replied the caliph, “you remind me of what I ought to have done before.  I know Abou Hassan’s opinion respecting marriage from himself, and have always promised him a wife that should please him.  I am glad you mentioned the circumstance; for I know not how I came to forget it.  But it is better that Abou Hassan should follow his own inclination, and choose for himself.  If Nouzhatoul-aouadat is not averse to it, we ought not to hesitate upon their marriage; and since they are both present, they have only to say that they consent.”

Abou Hassan threw himself at the caliph’s and Zobeide’s feet, to shew the sense he had of their goodness; and rising up, said, “I cannot receive a wife from better hands, but dare not hope that Nouzhatoul-aouadat will give me her hand as readily as I give her mine.”  At these words he looked at the princess’s slave, who shewed by her respectful silence, and the sudden blush that arose in her cheeks, that she was disposed to obey the caliph and her mistress Zobeide.

The marriage was solemnized, and the nuptials celebrated in the palace, with great rejoicings, which lasted several days.  Zobeide made her slave considerable presents, and the caliph did the same to Abou Hassan.  The bride was conducted to the apartment the caliph had assigned Abou Hassan, who waited for her with all the impatience of a bridegroom, and received her with the sound of all sorts of instruments, and musicians of both sexes, who made the air echo with their concert.

After these feasts and rejoicings, which lasted several days, the newly-married couple were left to pursue their loves in peace.  Abou Hassan and his spouse were charmed with each other, lived together in perfect union, and seldom were asunder, but when either he paid his respects to the caliph, or she hers to Zobeide.  Indeed, Nouzhatoul-aouadat was endued with every qualification capable of gaining Abou Hassan’s love and attachment, was just such a wife as he had described to the caliph, and fit to sit at the head of his table.  With these dispositions they could not fail to pass their lives agreeably.  They kept a good table covered with the nicest and choicest rarities in season, by an excellent cook, who took upon him to provide every thing.  Their sideboard was always stored with exquisite wines placed within their reach when at table, where they enjoyed themselves in agreeable conversation, and afterwards entertained each other with some pleasantry or other, which made them laugh more or less, as they had in the day met with something to divert them; and in the evenings, which they consecrated to mirth, they had generally some slight repast of dried sweetmeats, choice fruits, and cakes, and at each glass invited each other by new songs to drink, and sometimes accompanied their voices with a lute, or other instruments which they could both touch.

Abou Hassan and Nouzhatoul-aouadat led this pleasant life unattentive to expense, until at length the caterer, who had disbursed all his and their money for these expenses, brought them in a long bill in hope of having an advance of cash.  They found the amount to be so considerable, that all the presents which the caliph and Zobeide had given them at their marriage were but just enough to pay him.  This made them reflect seriously on what was passed, which, however, was no remedy for the present evil.  But they agreed to pay the caterer; and having sent for him, gave him all they owed him, without considering the difficulty they should be in immediately after.

The caterer went away highly pleased at receiving so large a sum, though Abou Hassan and his wife were not so well satisfied with seeing the bottom of their purse, but remained a long time silent, and very much embarrassed, to find themselves reduced to poverty the very first year of their marriage.  Abou Hassan remembered that the caliph, when he took him into the palace, had promised never to let him want.  But when he considered how prodigal he had been of his money, was unwilling to expose himself to the shame of letting the caliph know the ill use he had made of his bounty, and that he wanted a supply.  Besides, he had made over his patrimony to his mother, when the caliph had received him near his person, and was afraid to apply to her, lest she should discover that he had returned to the same extravagance he had been guilty of after his father’s death.  His wife, on the other hand, regarded Zobeide’s generosity, and the liberty she had given her to marry, as more than a sufficient recompense for her service, and thought she had no right to ask more.

Abou Hassan at last broke silence, and looking at his wife, said, “I see you are in the same embarrassment as myself, and thinking what we must do in this unhappy juncture, when our money fails us so unexpectedly.  I do not know what your sentiments may be; but mine are, let what will happen, not to retrench our expenses in the least; and I believe you will come into my opinion.  The point is, how to support them without stooping to ask the caliph or Zobeide:  and I think I have fallen on the means; but we must assist each other.”

This discourse of Abou Hassan very much pleased his wife, and gave her some hopes.  “I was thinking so as well as you,” said she; “but durst not explain my thoughts, because I do not know how we can help ourselves; and must confess, that what you tell me gives me a revival of pleasure.  Since you say you have found out a resource, and my assistance is necessary, you need but tell me in what way, and I will do all that lies in my power.”

“I was sure,” replied Abou Hassan, “that you would not fail me in a business which concerns us both; and therefore I must tell you, this want of money has made me think of a plan which will supply us, at least for a time.  It consists in a little trick we must put, I upon the caliph and you upon Zobeide, and at which, as I am sure they will both be diverted, it will answer advantageously for us.  You and I will both die.”  “Not I indeed,” interrupted Nouzhatoul-aouadat; “you may die by yourself, if you please, but I am not so weary of this life; and whether you are pleased or not, will not die so soon.  If you have nothing else to propose, you may die by yourself; for I assure you I shall not join you.”

“You are a woman of such vivacity and wonderful quickness,” replied Abou Hassan, “that you scarcely give me time to explain my design.  Have but a little patience, and you shall find that you will be ready enough to die such a death as I intend; for surely you could not think I meant a real death?” “Well,” said his wife, “if it is but a sham death you design, I am at your service, and you may depend on my zeal to second you in this manner of dying; but I must tell you truly, I am very unwilling to die, as I apprehended you at first.”

“Be but silent a little,” said Abou Hassan, “and I will tell you what I promise.  I will feign myself dead, and you shall lay me out in the middle of my chamber, with my turban upon my face, my feet towards Mecca, as if ready to be carried out to burial.  When you have done this, you must lament, and weep bitterly, as is usual in such cases, tear your clothes and hair, or pretend to do it, and go all in tears, with your locks dishevelled, to Zobeide.  The princess will of course inquire the cause of your grief; and when you have told her, with words intermixed with sobs, she will pity you, give you money to defray the expense of my funeral, and a piece of good brocade to cover my body, that my interment may be the more magnificent, and to make you a new dress in the room of that you will have torn.  As soon as you return with the money and the brocade, I will rise, lay you in my place, and go and act the same part with the caliph, who I dare say will be as generous to me as Zobeide will have been to you.”

Nouzhatoul-aouadat highly approved the project, and said to Abou Hassan, “Come, lose no time; strip to your shirt and drawers, while I prepare a winding sheet.  I know how to bury as well as any body; for while I was in Zobeide’s service, when any of my fellow-slaves died, I had the conducting of the funeral.”  Abou Hassan did as his wife mentioned, and laid himself on the sheet which she had spread on the carpet in the middle of the room.  As soon as he had crossed his arms, his wife wrapped him up, turned his feet towards Mecca, and put a piece of fine muslin and his turban upon his face, so that nothing seemed wanting but to carry him out to be buried.  After this she pulled off her head-dress, and with tears in her eyes, her hair dishevelled, and seeming to tear it off, with a dismal cry and lamentation, beating her face and breast with all the marks of the most lively grief, ran across the court to Zobeide’s apartments, who, hearing the voice of a person crying very loud, commanded some of her women to see who it was; they returned and told her that it was Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who was approaching in a deplorable condition.

The princess, impatient to know what had happened to her, rose up immediately, and went to meet her at the door of her ante-chamber.  Nouzhatoul-aouadat played her part to perfection.  As soon as she saw Zobeide, who held the door open, she redoubled her cries, tore her hair off by handfuls, beat her face and breast, and threw herself at her feet, bathing them with her tears.

Zobeide, amazed to see her slave in such extraordinary affliction, asked what had happened; but, instead of answering, she continued her sobs; and at last feigning to strive to check them, said, with words interrupted with sighs, “Alas! my most honoured lady and mistress, what greater misfortune could have befallen me than this, which obliges me to throw myself at your highness’s feet.  God prolong your days, my most respectable princess, in perfect health, and grant you many happy years!  Abou Hassan! poor Abou Hassan! whom you honoured with your esteem, and gave me for a husband, is no more!”

At these words Nouzhatoul-aouadat redoubled her tears and sighs, and threw herself again at the princess’s feet.  Zobeide was extremely concerned at this news.  “Abou Hassan dead!” cried she; “that agreeable, pleasant man!  I did not expect his death so soon; he seemed to promise a long life, and well deserved to enjoy it!” She then also burst into tears, as did all her women, who had been often witnesses of Abou Hassan’s pleasantries when the caliph brought him to amuse the princess Zobeide, and all together continued for some time bewailing his loss.  At length the princess Zobeide broke silence:  “Wicked woman!” cried she, addressing herself to the false widow, “perhaps you may have occasioned his death.  Your ill temper has given him so much vexation, that you have at last brought him to his grave.”  Nouzhatoul-aouadat seemed much hurt at the reproaches of Zobeide:  “Ah, madam,” cried she, “I do not think I ever gave your majesty, while I was your slave, reason to entertain so disadvantageous an opinion of my conduct to a husband who was so dear to me.  I should think myself the most wretched of women if you were persuaded of this.  I behaved to Abou Hassan as a wife should do to a husband for whom she has a sincere affection; and I may say, without vanity, that I had for him the same regard he had for me.  I am persuaded he would, were he alive, justify me fully to your majesty; but, madam,” added she, renewing her tears, “his time was come, and that was the only cause of his death.”

Zobeide, as she had really observed in her slave a uniformly equal temper, mildness, great docility and zeal for her service, which shewed she was rather actuated by inclination than duty, hesitated not to believe her on her word, and ordered her treasurer to fetch a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of rich brocade.

The slave soon returned with the purse and piece of brocade, which, by Zobeide’s order, she delivered to Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who threw herself again at the princess’s feet, and thanked her with great self-satisfaction at finding she had succeeded so well.  “Go,” said Zobeide, “use that brocade to cover the corpse of your husband, and with the money bury him handsomely, as he deserves.  Moderate the transport of your afflictions:  I will take care of you.”

As soon as Nouzhatoul-aouadat got out of the princess’s presence, she dried up her tears, and returned with joy to Abou Hassan, to give him an account of her good success.  When she came home she burst out a laughing on seeing her husband still stretched out in the middle of the floor; she ran to him, bade him rise and see the fruits of his stratagem.  He arose, and rejoiced with his wife at the sight of the purse and brocade.  Unable to contain herself at the success of her artifice, “Come, husband,” said she, laughing, “let me act the dead part, and see if you can manage the caliph as well as I have done Zobeide.”

“That is the temper of all women,” replied Abou Hassan, “who, we may well say, have always the vanity to believe they can do things better than men, though at the same time what good they do is by their advice.  It would be odd indeed, if I, who laid this plot myself, could not carry it on as well as you.  But let us lose no time in idle discourse; lie down in my place, and witness if I do not come off with as much applause.”

Abou Hassan wrapped up his wife as she had done him, and with his turban unrolled, like a man in the greatest affliction, ran to the caliph, who was holding a private council with Jaaffier and other confidential viziers.  He presented himself at the door, and the officer, knowing he had free access, opened it.  He entered holding with one hand his handkerchief before his eyes, to hide the feigned tears, which trickled down his cheeks, and striking his breast with the other, with exclamations expressing extraordinary grief.

The caliph, always used to see Abou Hassan with a merry countenance, was very much surprised to behold him in so much distress.  He interrupted the business of the council to inquire the cause of his grief.  “Commander of the faithful,” answered Abou Hassan, with repeated sighs and sobs, “God preserve your majesty on the throne, which you fill so gloriously! a greater calamity could not have befallen me than what I now lament.  Alas!  Nouzhatoul-aouadat whom you in your bounty gave me for a wife to gladden my existence, alas!” at this exclamation Abou Hassan pretended to have his heart so full, that he could not utter more, but poured forth a flood of tears.

The caliph, who now understood that Abou Hassan came to tell him of the death of his wife, seemed much concerned, and said to him with an air which shewed how much he regretted her loss, “God be merciful to her:  she was a good slave, and we gave her to you with an intention to make you happy:  she deserved a longer life.”  The tears then ran down his face, so that he was obliged to pull out his handkerchief to wipe them off.  The grief of Abou Hassan, and the tears of the caliph, excited those of Jaaffier and the other viziers.  They bewailed the death of Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who, on her part, was only impatient to hear how Abou Hassan succeeded.

The caliph had the same suspicion of the husband that Zobeide had of the wife, and imagined that he had occasioned her death.  “Wretch!” said he, in a tone of indignation, “have not you been the cause of your wife’s death by your ill treatment of her?  You ought at least to have had some regard for the princess my consort, who loved her more than the rest of her slaves, yet consented to give her to you.  What a return for her kindness!”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied Abou Hassan, affecting to weep more bitterly than before, “can your majesty for a moment suppose that Abou Hassan, whom you have loaded with your favours and kindness, and on whom you have conferred honours he could never have aspired to, can have been capable of such ingratitude?  I loved Nouzhatoul-aouadat my wife as much on these accounts, as for the many good qualities she possessed, and which drew from me all the attachment, tenderness, and love she deserved.  But, my lord,” added he, “she was to die, and God would no longer suffer me to enjoy a happiness for which I was indebted to your majesty and your beloved consort.”

Abou Hassan dissembled so well, that the caliph, who had never heard how extravagantly he and his wife had lived, no longer doubting his sincerity, ordered his treasurer, who was present, to give Abou Hassan a purse of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade.  Abou Hassan immediately cast himself at the caliph’s feet, and thanked him for his present.  “Follow the treasurer,” said the monarch; “throw the brocade over the corpse, and with the money shew the last testimony of thy love for thy wife.”

Abou Hassan made no reply to these obliging words of the caliph, but retiring with a low prostration, followed the treasurer; and as soon as he had got the purse and piece of brocade, went home, well pleased with having found out so quick and easy a way of supplying the necessity which had given him so much uneasiness.

Nouzhatoul-aouadat, weary with lying so long in one posture, waited not till Abou Hassan bade her rise; but as soon as she heard the door open, sprang up, ran to her husband, and asked him if he had imposed on the caliph as cleverly as she had done on Zobeide.  “You see,” said he, shewing her the stuff, and shaking the purse, “that I can act a sorrowful husband for a living wife, as well as you can a weeping widow for a husband not dead.”  Abou Hassan, however, was not without his fears that this double plot might be attended with some ill consequences.  He thought it would not be amiss to put his wife on her guard as to what might happen, that they might aft in concert.  “For,” added he, “the better we succeed in embarrassing the caliph and Zobeide, the more they will be pleased at last, and perhaps may shew their satisfaction by greater liberality.”  This last consideration induced them to carry on their stratagem farther.

The caliph, though he had important affairs to decide, was so impatient to condole with the princess on the death of her slave, that he rose up as soon as Abou Hassan was gone, and put off the council to another day.  “Follow me,” said he to Mesrour, who always attended him wherever he went, and was in all his councils, “let us go and share with the princess the grief which the death of her slave Nouzhatoul-aouadat must have occasioned.”

Accordingly they went to Zobeide’s apartment, whom the caliph found sitting on a sofa, much afflicted, and still in tears.  “Madam,” said the caliph, going up to her, “it is unnecessary to tell you how much I partake with you in your affliction; since you must be sensible that what gives you pleasure or trouble, has the same effect on me.  But we are all mortal, and must surrender up to God that life he has given us, when he requires it.  Nouzhatoul-aouadat, your faithful slave, was endued with qualifications that deserved your esteem, and I cannot but approve your expressing it after her death; but consider all your grief will not restore her to life.  Therefore, madam, if you love me, and will take my advice, be comforted for this loss, take care of a life which you know is precious to me, and constitutes all the happiness of mine.”

If the princess was charmed with these tender sentiments which the caliph expressed in his compliments, she was amazed to hear of Nouzhatoulaouadat’s death.  This news threw her into such astonishment, that she was not able to return an answer for some time.  At last recovering, she replied with an air expressive of surprise, “Commander of the faithful, I am very sensible of all your tender sentiments; but give me leave to say, I cannot comprehend the news you tell me of the death of my slave, who is in perfect health.  My affliction is for the death of Abou Hassan, her husband, your favourite, whom I esteemed, as much for the regard you had for him, as his having so often diverted me agreeably, and for whom I had as great a value as yourself.  But the little concern you shew for his death, and your so soon forgetting a man in whose company you have so often told me you took so much pleasure, surprises me; and this insensibility seems the greater, from the deception you would put upon me in changing his death for that of my slave.”

The caliph, who thought that he was perfectly well informed of the death of the slave, and had just reason to believe so, because he had both seen and heard Abou Hassan, laughed, and shrugged up his shoulders, to hear Zobeide talk in this manner.  “Mesrour,” said he, to the eunuch, “what do you think of the princess’s discourse?  Do not women sometimes lose their senses; for you have heard and seen all as well as myself?” Then turning to Zobeide, “Madam,” said he, “shed no more tears for Abou Hassan, for I can assure you he is well; but rather bewail the death of your dear slave.  It is not many moments since her husband came in the most inexpressible affliction, to tell me of the death of his wife.  I gave him a purse of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade, to comfort him, and bury her; and Mesrour, who was present, can tell you the same.”

The princess took this discourse of the caliph’s to be all a jest, and thought he had a mind to impose upon her.  “Commander of the faithful,” replied she, “though you are used to banter, I must tell you, this is not a proper time for pleasantry.  What I tell you is very serious; I do not talk of my slave’s death, but of Abou Hassan’s, her husband, whose fate I bewail, and so ought you too.”  “Madam,” said the caliph, putting on a grave countenance, “I tell you without raillery that you are deceived; Nouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and Abou Hassan is alive, and in perfect health.”

Zobeide was much piqued at this dry answer of the caliph.  “Commander of the faithful,” replied she smartly, “God preserve you from continuing longer in this mistake, surely you would make me think your mind is not as usual.  Give me leave to repeat to you once more, that it is Abou Hassan who is dead, and that my slave Nouzhatoul-aouadat, his widow, is living.  It is not an hour since she went from hence.  She came here in so disconsolate a state, that the sight of her was enough to have drawn tears from my eyes, if she had not told me her affliction.  All my women, who wept with me, can bear me witness, and tell you also that I made her a present of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade; the grief which you found me in, was on account of the death of her husband; and just at the instant you entered, I was going to send you a compliment of condolence.”

At these words of Zobeide, the caliph cried out in a fit of laughter, “This, madam, is a strange piece of obstinacy; but,” continued he seriously, “you may depend upon Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s being dead.”  “I tell you no, sir,” replied Zobeide sharply; “it is Abou Hassan that is dead, and you shall never make me believe otherwise.”

Upon this the caliph’s anger rose in his countenance.  He seated himself on the sofa at some distance from the princess, and speaking to Mesrour, said, “Go immediately, see which it is, and bring me word; for though I am certain that it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat, I would rather take this method than be any longer obstinately positive about the matter, though of its certainty I am perfectly satisfied.”  No sooner had the caliph commanded than Mesrour was gone.  “You will see,” continued he, addressing himself to Zobeide, “in a moment, which of us is right.”  “For my part,” replied Zobeide, “I know very well that I am in the right, and you will find it to be Abou Hassan.”  “And for myself,” returned the caliph, “I am so sure that it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat, that I will lay you what wager you please that Abou Hassan is well.”

“Do not think to come off so,” said Zobeide; “I accept your wager, and I am so well persuaded of his death, that I would willingly lay the thing dearest to me in the world against what you will, though it were of less value.  You know what I have in my disposal, and what I value most; propose the bet, and I will stand to it.”

“Since it is so,” said the caliph, “I will lay my garden of pleasures against your palace of paintings, though the one is worth much more than the other.”  “Is the question at present,” replied Zobeide, “if your garden is more valuable than my palace?  That is not the point.  You have made choice of what you thought fit belonging to me, as an equivalent against what you lay; I accept the wager, and that I will abide by it, I take God to witness.”  The caliph took the same oath, and both waited Mesrour’s return.

While the caliph and Zobeide were disputing so earnestly, and with so much warmth, Abou Hassan, who foresaw their difference, was very attentive to whatever might happen.  As soon as he perceived Mesrour through a window, at which he sat talking with his wife, and observed that he was coming directly to their apartment, he guessed his commission, and bade his wife make haste to act the dead part once more, as they had agreed, without loss of time; but they were so pressed, that Abou Hassan had much ado to wrap up his wife, and lay the piece of brocade which the caliph had given him upon her, before Mesrour reached the house.  This done, he opened the door of his apartment, and with a melancholy, dejected countenance, and his handkerchief before his eyes, went and sat down at the head of the pretended deceased.

By the time he was seated, Mesrour came into the room.  The dismal sight which met his eyes, gave him a secret joy on account of the errand the caliph had sent him on.  Abou Hassan rose up to meet him, and kissing his hand out of respect, said, sighing and sobbing, “You see me under the greatest calamity that ever could have befallen me the death of my dear wife, Nouzhatoul-aouadat, whom you honoured with your favours.”

Mesrour, affected by this discourse, could not refuse some tears to the memory of the deceased.  He lifted up the cloth a little at the head, and peeping under it, let it down again, and said, with a deep sigh, “There is no other God but Allah, we must all submit to his will, and every creature must return to him.  Nouzhatoul-aouadat, my good sister,” added he, sighing, “thy days have been few:  God have mercy on thee.”  Then turning to Abou Hassan, who was all the time in tears, “We may well say,” added he, “that women sometimes have whims, and lose their senses in a most unpardonable manner; for Zobeide, good mistress as she is, is in that situation at present; she will maintain to the caliph that you are dead, and not your wife; and whatever the caliph can say to the contrary, he cannot persuade her otherwise.  He called me to witness and confirm this truth; for you know I was present when you came and told him the sorrowful news:  but all signifies nothing.  They are both positive; and the caliph, to convince Zobeide, has sent me to know the truth, but I fear I shall not be believed; for when women once take up a thing, they are not to be beaten out of it.”

“God keep the commander of the faithful in the possession and right use of his senses,” replied Abou Hassan, still sighing and weeping; “you see how it is, and that I have not imposed upon his majesty.  And I wish to Heaven,” continued he, to dissemble the better, “that I had no occasion to have told him the melancholy and afflicting news.  Alas!  I cannot enough express my irreparable loss!” “That is true,” replied Mesrour, “and I can assure you I take a great share in your affliction; but you must be comforted, and not abandon yourself to your grief.  I leave you with reluctance, to return to the caliph; but I beg the favour of you not to bury the corpse till I come again; for I will assist at the interment, and accompany it with my prayers.”  Mesrour went to give an account of his visit.  Abou Hassan attended him to the door, told him he did not deserve the honour he intended him:  and for fear Mesrour should return to say something else, followed him with his eyes for some time, and when he saw him at a distance, returned to his wife and released her.  “This is already,” said he, “a new scene of mirth, but I fancy it will not be the last; for certainly the princess Zobeide will not believe Mesrour, but will laugh at him, since she has too substantial a reason to the contrary; therefore we must expect some new event.”  While Abou Hassan was talking thus, Nouzhatoul-aouadat had time to put on her clothes again, and both went and sat down on a sofa opposite to the window, where they could see all that passed.

In the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide’s apartment, and going into her closet laughing, clapped his hands like one who had something very agreeable to tell.

The caliph, naturally impatient, and piqued a little at the princess’s contradiction, as soon as he saw Mesrour, “Vile slave,” said he, “is this a time to laugh?  Why do not you tell me which is dead, the husband or the wife?”

“Commander of the faithful,” answered Mesrour, putting on a serious countenance, “it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat who is dead, for the loss of whom About Hassan is as much afflicted as when he appeared before your majesty.”  The caliph not giving him time to pursue his story, interrupted him, and cried out, laughing heartily, “Good news!  Zobeide, your mistress, was a moment ago possessed of the palace of paintings, and now it is mine.  She staked it against my garden of pleasures, since you went; therefore you could not have done me greater pleasure.  I will take care to reward you:  but give me a true account of what you saw.”

“Commander of the faithful,” said Mesrour, “when I came to Abou Hassan’s apartment, I found the door open, and he was bewailing the death of his wife.  He sat at the head of the deceased, who was laid out in the middle of the room, with her feet towards Mecca, and was covered with the piece of brocade which your majesty presented to Abou Hassan.  After I had expressed the share I took in his grief, I went and lifted up the pall at the head, and knew Nouzhatoul-aouadat, though her face was much swelled and changed.  I exhorted Abou Hassan in the best manner I could to be comforted; and when I came away, told him I would attend at his wife’s funeral, and desired him not to remove the corpse till I came.  This is all I can tell your majesty.”  “I ask no more,” said the caliph, laughing heartily, “and I am well satisfied with your exactness.”  Then addressing himself to Zobeide, “Well, madam,” said he, “have you yet any thing to say against so certain a truth?  Will you still believe that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is alive, and that Abou Hassan is dead?  And will you not own that you have lost your wager?”

“How, sir,” replied Zobeide, who would not believe one word Mesrour said, “do you think that I regard that impertinent fellow of a slave, who knows not what he says?  I am not blind or mad.  With these eyes I saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat in the greatest affliction; I spoke to her myself, and she told me that her husband was dead.”  “Madam,” replied Mesrour, “I swear to you by your own life, and that of the commander of the faithful, which are both dear to me, that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and Abou Hassan is living.”

“Thou liest, base despicable slave,” said Zobeide in a rage, “and I will confound thee immediately.”  Clapping her hands together, she called her women, who all approached.  “Come hither,” said the princess to them, “and speak the truth.  Who was that who came and spoke with me a little before the caliph entered?” The women all answered that it was poor afflicted Nouzhatoul-aouadat.  “And what,” added she, addressing herself to her treasurer, “did I order you to give her?” “Madam,” answered the treasurer, “I gave Nouzhatoul-aouadat, by your orders, a purse of a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of brocade, which she carried away with her.”  “Well, then, sorry slave,” said Zobeide to Mesrour, in passion, “what have you to say to all this?  Whom do you think now I ought to believe, you or my treasurer, my women, and myself?”

Mesrour did not want for arguments to contradict the princess; but, as he was afraid of provoking her too much, chose rather to be silent, though he was satisfied that the wife was dead, and not the husband.

During the whole of this dispute between Zobeide and Mesrour, the caliph, who heard the evidence on both sides, and was persuaded of the contrary of what the princess asserted, because he had himself seen and spoken to Abou Hassan, and from what Mesrour had told him, laughed heartily to see Zobeide so exasperated.  “Madam,” said he to her, “once more I repeat that I know not who was the author of that saying, that ’Women sometimes lose their wits,’ but I am sure you make it good.  Mesrour has just come from Abou Hassan’s, and tells you that he saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat lying dead in the middle of the room, Abou Hassan alive, and sitting by her; and yet you will not believe this evidence, which nobody can reasonably refuse; I cannot comprehend this conduit.”

Zobeide would not hear the caliph.  “Pardon me, commander of the faithful,” replied she, “if I suspect you:  I see that you have contrived with Mesrour to vex me, and to try my patience.  And as I perceive that this report was concerted between you, I beg leave to send a person to Abou Hassan’s, to know whether or not I am in the wrong.”

The caliph consented, and the princess charged with this important commission an old nurse, who had lived with her from her infancy.  “Hark you nurse,” said she, “you see my dispute with the commander of the faithful, and Mesrour; I need tell you no more.  Go to Abou Hassan’s or rather to Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s, for Abou Hassan is dead, and clear up this matter for me.  If you bring me good news, a handsome present is your reward:  make haste, and return immediately.”

The nurse set out, to the great joy of the caliph, who was delighted to see Zobeide in this embarrassment; but Mesrour, extremely mortified to find the princess so angry with him, did all he could to appease her, and to make her and the caliph both satisfied with him.  He was overjoyed when Zobeide sent the nurse; because he was persuaded that the report she must make would agree with his, justify him, and restore him to her favour.

In the mean time Abou Hassan, who watched at the window, perceived the nurse at a distance, and guessing that she was sent by Zobeide, called his wife, and told her that the princess’s nurse was coming to know the truth.  “Therefore,” said he, “make haste and lay me out.”  Accordingly Nouzhatoul-aouadat covered him with the brocade Zobeide had given her, and put his turban upon his face.  The nurse, eager to acquit herself of her commission, hobbled as fast as age would allow her, and entering the room, perceived Nouzhatoul-aouadat in tears, her hair dishevelled, and seated at the head of her husband, beating her breast, with all the expressions of violent grief.

The good old nurse went directly to the false widow.  “My dear Nouzhatoul-aouadat,” said she, with a sorrowful countenance, “I come not to interrupt your grief and tears for a husband whom you loved so tenderly.”  “Ah! good mother,” replied the counterfeit widow, “you see my misfortune, and how unhappy I am from the loss of my beloved Abou Hassan.  Abou Hassan, my dear husband!” cried she, “what have I done that you should leave me so soon?  Have I not always preferred your will to my own?  Alas! what will become of poor Nouzhatoul-aouadat?”

“This black-faced Mesrour,” cried the nurse, lifting up her hands, “deserves to be punished for having caused so great a difference between my good mistress and the commander of the faithful, by the falsehood he has told them.  Daughter,” continued she, “that villain Mesrour has asserted, with inconceivable impudence, before our good mistress, that you were dead, and Abou Hassan was alive.”

“Alas! my good mother,” cried Nouzhatoul-aouadat, “I wish to Heaven that it was true!  I should not be in this sorrowful state, nor bewail a husband so dear to me!” At these words she wept afresh, and with redoubled tears and cries feigned the deepest sorrow.

The nurse was so much moved by her tears, that she sat down by her, and cried too.  Then gently lifting up the turban and cloth, looked at the face of the corpse.  “Ah! poor Abou Hassan,” she cried, covering his face again, “God have mercy upon thee.  Adieu, child,” said she to Nouzhatoul-aouadat:  “if I could stay longer with you, I would with all my heart; but I am obliged to return immediately, to deliver my mistress from the uneasiness that black villain has occasioned her, by his impudent lie, assuring her with an oath that you were dead.”

As soon as the nurse was gone, Nouzhatoul-aouadat wiped her eyes and released Abou Hassan; they both went and sat down on a sofa against the window, expecting what would be the end of this stratagem, and to be ready to act according as circumstances might require.

The nurse, in the mean time, made all the haste she could to Zobeide.  The pleasure of carrying the princess news favourable to her wager, but still more the hopes of a good reward, added wings to her feet, and running into the princess’s closet quite out of breath, she gave her a true account of all she had seen.  Zobeide hearkened to the old woman’s relation with a most sensible pleasure; and when she had done, said, with a tone which shewed triumph at having, as she supposed, won her wager:  “Repeat it once more before the caliph, who looks upon us all to be fools, would make us believe we have no sense of religion, nor fear of God; and tell your story to that wicked black slave, who had the insolence to assert a wilful falsehood.”

Mesrour, who expected the nurse’s report would prove favourable on his side, was much mortified to find it so much the contrary, and so vexed at the anger Zobeide expressed against him, for a thing which he thought himself surer of than any body, that he was glad of an opportunity of speaking his mind freely to the old women, which he durst not do to the princess.  “Old toothless,” said he to the nurse, “you are a liar, and there is no truth in what you say; for I saw with my own eyes Nouzhatoul-aouadat laid out in the middle of the room.”

“You are a notorious liar yourself,” replied the nurse, with an insulting air, “to dare maintain so great a falsity before my face, who am just come from seeing Abou Hassan dead, laid out, and have left his wife alive.”  “I am not an impostor,” replied Mesrour; “it is you who endeavour to lead us all into error.”

“What impudence,” said the nurse, “to dare tell me I lie in the presence of their majesties, when I saw just now with my own eyes what I have had the honour to tell them.”  “Indeed, nurse,” answered Mesrour again, “you had better hold your tongue, for you certainly doat.”

Zobeide, who could no longer endure this want of respect in Mesrour, who, without any regard to her, treated her nurse so injuriously in her presence, without giving the old lady time to reply to so gross an affront, said to the caliph, “Commander of the faithful, I demand justice for this insolence to us both.”  She was so enraged she could say no more, but burst into tears.

The caliph, who had heard all the dispute, thought it very intricate.  He mused some time, and could not tell what to think of so many contradictions.  The princess on her part, as well as Mesrour, the nurse, and all the women slaves, who were present, were as much puzzled, and remained silent.  At last the caliph, addressing himself to Zobeide, said, “I see we are all liars; myself first, then you, Mesrour, and you, nurse; or at least it seems not one can be believed more than the other; therefore let us go ourselves to examine the truth, for I can see no other way to clear up these doubts.”

So saying, the caliph arose, the princess followed him, and Mesrour went before to open the doors.  “Commander of the faithful,” said he, “I am overjoyed that your majesty has taken this course; and shall be much more, when I shall make it plainly appear to the nurse, not that she doats, since the expression is unfortunately displeasing to my good mistress, but that her report is not true.”

The nurse wanted not a reply; “Hold your tongue, black face,” said she; “you doat yourself.”

Zobeide, who was much provoked at Mesrour, could not bear to hear him attack her nurse again without taking her part:  “Vile slave,” said she, “say what you will, I maintain my nurse speaks the truth, and look upon you as a mere liar.”  “Madam,” replied Mesrour, “if nurse is so very certain that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is alive, and Abou Hassan dead, I will lay her what she dares of it.”  The nurse was as ready as he; “I dare,” said she, “take you at your word:  let us see if you dare unsay it.”  Mesrour stood to his word; and they laid a piece of gold brocade with silver flowers before the caliph and the princess.

The apartment from which the caliph and Zobeide set out, though distant from Abou Hassan’s, was nevertheless just opposite, so that he perceived them coming, and told his wife that he was much mistaken if the caliph and Zobeide, preceded by Mesrour, and followed by a great number of women, were not about to do them the honour of a visit.  She looked through a lattice and saw them, seemed frightened, and cried out, “What shall we do? we are ruined.”  “Fear nothing,” replied Abou Hassan.  “Have you forgotten already what we agreed on?  We will both feign ourselves dead, and you shall see all will go well.  At the slow rate they are coming, we shall be ready before they reach the door.”  Accordingly, Abou Hassan and his wife wrapped up and covered themselves with the pieces of brocade, and waited patiently for their visitors.

Mesrour, who came first, opened the door, and the caliph and Zobeide, followed by their attendants, entered the room; but were struck with horror, and stood motionless, at the spectacle which presented itself to their view, not knowing what to think.  At length Zobeide breaking silence, said to the caliph, “Alas! they are both dead!  You have done much,” continued she, looking at the caliph and Mesrour, “to endeavour to make me believe that my dear slave was dead, and I find it is true:  grief at the loss of her husband has certainly killed her.”  “Say rather, madam,” answered the caliph, prepossessed to the contrary, that Nouzhatoul-aouadat died first, “the afflicted Abou Hassan sunk under his grief, and could not survive his dear wife; you ought, therefore, to confess that you have lost your wager, and that your palace of paintings is mine.”

“Hold there,” answered Zobeide, warmed at being contradicted by the caliph; “I will maintain you have lost your garden of pleasures.  Abou Hassan died first; since my nurse told you, as well as me, that she saw her alive, and weeping for the death of her husband.”

The dispute of the caliph and Zobeide brought on another between Mesrour and the nurse, who had wagered as well as they; each affirmed to have won, and at length they proceeded to abuse each other very grossly.

At last the caliph, reflecting on what had passed, began to think that Zobeide had as much reason as himself to maintain that she had won.  In this embarrassment of not being able to find out the truth, he advanced towards the corpses, and sat down at the head, searching for some expedient that might gain him the victory over Zobeide.  “I swear,” cried he presently after, “by the holy name of God, that I will give a thousand pieces of gold to him who can tell me which of these two died first.”

No sooner were these words out of the caliph’s mouth, than he heard a voice under Abou Hassan’s piece of brocade say, “Commander of the faithful, I died first, give me the thousand pieces of gold.”  At the same instant Abou Hassan threw off the piece of brocade, and springing up, prostrated himself at his feet, while his wife did the same to Zobeide, keeping on her piece of brocade out of decency.  The princess at first shrieked out, but recovering herself, expressed great joy to see her dear slave rise again, just when she was almost inconsolable at having seen her dead.  “Ah! wicked Nouzhatoul-aouadat,” cried she, “what have I suffered for your sake?  However, I forgive you from my heart, since you are not dead.”

The caliph was not so much surprised, when he heard Abou Hassan’s voice:  but thought he should have died with laughing at this unravelling of the mystery, and to hear Abou Hassan ask so seriously for the thousand pieces of gold.  “What, Abou Hassan,” said he, continuing to laugh aloud, “hast thou conspired against my life, to kill me a second time with laughing?  How came this thought into your head, to surprise Zobeide and me thus, when we least thought of such a trick?”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied Abou Hassan, “I will declare to your majesty the whole truth, without the least reserve.  Your majesty knows that I always loved to eat and drink well’ and the wife you gave me rather increased than restrained this propensity.  With these dispositions your majesty may easily suppose we might spend a good estate; and to make short of my story, we were not sparing of what your majesty so generously gave us.  This morning, accounting with our caterer, who took care to provide every thing for us, and paying what we owed him, we found we had nothing left.  Then, reflections on what was past, and resolutions to manage better for the future, crowded into our thoughts; we formed a thousand projects, all of which we rejected.  At last, the shame of seeing ourselves reduced to so low a condition, and not daring to tell your majesty, made us contrive this stratagem to relieve our necessities, and to divert you, which we hope your majesty will be pleased to pardon.”

The caliph was satisfied with Abou Hassan’s sincerity, and Zobeide, who had till now been very serious, began to laugh at the thought of Abou Hassan’s scheme.  The caliph, who had not ceased laughing at the singularity of the adventure, rising, said to Abou Hassan and his wife, “Follow me; I will give you the thousand pieces of gold I promised, for joy to find you are not dead.”  Zobeide desired him to let her make her slave a present of the same sum, for the same reason.  By this means Abou Hassan and his wife Nouzhatoul-aouadat preserved the favour of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed and the princess Zobeide, and by their liberalities were enabled to pursue their pleasures.

Thestory of Alla ad Deen; or, the
wonderful lamp.

In the capital of one of the large and rich provinces of the kingdom of China, the name of which I do not recollect, there lived a tailor, named Mustapha, who was so poor, that he could hardly, by his daily labour, maintain himself and his family, which consisted of a wife and son.

His son, who was called Alla ad Deen, had been brought up in a very careless and idle manner, and by that means had contracted many vicious habits.  He was wicked, obstinate, and disobedient to his father and mother, who, when he grew up, could not keep him within doors.  He was in the habit of going out early in the morning, and would stay out all day, playing in the streets and public places with idle children of his own age.

When he was old enough to learn a trade, his father not being able to put him out to any other, took him into his own shop, and taught him how to use his needle:  but neither fair words nor the fear of chastisement were capable of fixing his lively genius.  All his father’s endeavours to keep him to his work were in vain; for no sooner was his back turned, than he was gone for that day.  Mustapha chastised him, but Alla ad Deen was incorrigible, and his father, to his great grief, was forced to abandon him to his idleness:  and was so much troubled at not being able to reclaim him, that it threw him into a fit of sickness, of which he died in a few months.

The mother, finding that her son would not follow his father’s business, shut up the shop, sold off the implements of trade, and with the money she received for them, and what she could get by spinning cotton, thought to maintain herself and her son.  Alla ad Deen, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father, and who cared so little for his mother, that whenever she chid him, he would abuse her, gave himself entirely over to his idle habits, and was never out of the streets from his companions.  This course he followed till he was fifteen years old, without giving his mind to any useful pursuit, or the least reflection on what would become of him.  In this situation, as he was one day playing according to custom in the street, with his vagabond associates, a stranger passing by stood to observe him.

This stranger was a sorcerer, called by the writer of this story, the African magician; he was a native of Africa, and had been but two days arrived from thence.

The African magician, who was a good physiognomist, observing in Alla ad Deen’s countenance something absolutely necessary for the execution of the design he was engaged in, inquired artfully about his family, who he was, and what were his inclinations; and when he had learned all he desired to know, went up to him, and taking him aside from his comrades, said, “Child, was not your father called Mustapha the tailor?” “Yes, sir,” answered the boy; “but he has been dead a long time.”

At these words, the African magician threw his arms about Alla ad Deen’s neck, and kissed him several times with tears in his eyes.  Alla ad Deen, who observed his tears, asked him what made him weep.  “Alas! my son,” cried the African magician with a sigh, “how can I forbear?

“I am your uncle; your worthy father was my own brother.  I have been many years abroad, and now I am come home with the hopes of seeing him, you tell me he is dead.  I assure you it is a sensible grief to me to be deprived of the comfort I expected.  But it is some relief to my affliction, that as far as I can remember him, I knew you at first sight, you are so like him; and I see I am not deceived.”  Then he asked Alla ad Deen, putting his hand into his purse, where his mother lived; and as soon as he had informed him, gave him a handful of small money, saying, “Go, my son, to your mother, give my love to her, and tell her that I will visit her to-morrow, if I have time, that I may have the satisfaction of seeing where my good brother lived so long, and ended his days.”

As soon as the African magician left his newly-adopted nephew, Alla ad Deen ran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had given him.  “Mother,” said he, “have I an uncle?” “No, child,” replied his mother, “you have no uncle by your father’s side, or mine.”  “I am just now come,” said Alla ad Deen, “from a man who says he is my uncle by my father’s side, assuring me that he is his brother.  He cried and kissed me when I told him my father was dead; and to shew you that what I tell you is truth,” added he, pulling out the money, “see what he has given me.  He charged me to give his love to you, and to tell you, if he has any time to-morrow, he will come and pay you a visit, that he may see the house my father lived and died in.”  “Indeed, child,” replied the mother, “your father had a brother, but he has been dead a long time, and I never heard of another.”

The mother and son talked no more then of the African magician; but the next day Alla ad Deen’s uncle found him playing in another part of the town with other children, and embracing him as before, put two pieces of gold into his hand, and said to him, “Carry this, child, to your mother, tell her that I will come and see her tonight, and bid her get us something for supper; but first shew me the house where you live.”

After Alla ad Deen had shewed the African magician the house, he carried the two pieces of gold to his mother, and when he had told her of his uncle’s intention, she went out and bought provisions; and considering she wanted various utensils, borrowed them of her neighbours.  She spent the whole day in preparing the supper; and at night when it was ready, said to her son, “Perhaps your uncle knows not how to find our house; go and bring him if you meet with him.”

Though Alla ad Deen had shewed the magician the house, he was ready to go, when somebody knocked at the door, which he immediately opened:  and the magician came in loaded with wine, and all sorts of fruits, which he brought for a dessert.

After the African magician had given what he brought into Alla ad Deen’s hands, he saluted his mother, and desired her to shew him the place where his brother Mustapha used to sit on the sofa; and when she had so done, he fell down and kissed it several times, crying out with tears in his eyes, “My poor brother!  How unhappy am I, not to have come soon enough to give you one last embrace.”  Alla ad Deen’s mother desired him to sit down in the same place, but he declined.  “No,” said he, “I shall take care how I do that; but give me leave to sit opposite to it, that although I am deprived of the satisfaction of seeing the master of a family so dear to me, I may at least have the pleasure of beholding the place where he used to sit.”  The widow pressed him no farther, but left him at liberty to sit where he pleased.

When the magician had made choice of a place, and sat down, he began to enter into discourse with Alla ad Deen’s mother.  “My good sister,” said he, “do not be surprised at your never having seen me all the time you have been married to my brother Mustapha of happy memory.  I have been forty years absent from this country, which is my native place, as well as my late brother’s; and during that time have travelled into the Indies, Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt, have resided in the finest towns of those countries; and afterwards crossed over into Africa, where I made a longer stay.  At last, as it is natural for a man, how distant soever it may be, to remember his native country, relations, and acquaintance, I was desirous to see mine again, and to embrace my dear brother; and finding I had strength enough to undertake so long a journey, I immediately made the necessary preparations, and set out.  I will not tell you the length of time it took me, all the obstacles I met with, and what fatigues I have endured, to come hither; but nothing ever mortified and afflicted me so much, as hearing of my brother’s death, for whom I always had a brotherly love and friendship.  I observed his features in the face of my nephew, your son, and distinguished him among a number of children with whom he was at play; he can tell you how I received the most melancholy news that ever reached my ears.  But God be praised for all things!  It is a comfort for me to find, as it were, my brother in a son, who has his most remarkable features.”

The African magician perceiving that the widow began to weep at the remembrance of her husband, changed the conversation, and turning towards her son, asked him his name.  “I am called Alla ad Deen,” said he.  “Well, Alla ad Deen,” replied the magician, “what business do you follow?  Are you of any trade?”

At this question the youth hung down his head, and was not a little abashed when his mother answered, “Alla ad Deen is an idle fellow; his father, when alive, strove all he could to teach him his trade, but could not succeed; and since his death, notwithstanding all I can say to him, he does nothing but idle away his time in the streets, as you saw him, without considering he is no longer a child; and if you do not make him ashamed of it, I despair of his ever coming to any good.  He knows that his father left him no fortune, and sees me endeavour to get bread by spinning cotton; for my part, I am resolved one of these days to turn him out of doors, and let him provide for himself.”

After these words, Alla ad Deen’s mother burst into tears; and the magician said, “This is not well, nephew; you must think of helping yourself, and getting your livelihood.  There are many sorts of trades, consider if you have not an inclination to some of them; perhaps you did not like your father’s, and would prefer another:  come, do not disguise your sentiments from me; I will endeavour to help you.”  But finding that Alla ad Deen returned no answer, “If you have no mind,” continued he, “to learn any handicraft, I will take a shop for you, furnish it with all sorts of fine stuffs and linens; and with the money you make of them lay in fresh goods, and then you will live in an honourable way.  Consult your inclination, and tell me freely what you think of my proposal:  you shall always find me ready to keep my word.”

This plan greatly flattered Alla ad Deen, who hated work, but had sense enough to know that such shops were much frequented, and the owners respected.  He told the magician he had a greater inclination to that business than to any other, and that he should be much obliged to him for his kindness.  “Since this profession is agreeable to you,” said the African magician, “I will carry you with me to-morrow, clothe you as handsomely as the best merchants in the city, and afterwards we will think of opening a shop as I mentioned.”

The widow, who never till then could believe that the magician was her husband’s brother, no longer doubted after his promises of kindness to her son.  She thanked him for his good intentions; and after having exhorted Alla ad Deen to render himself worthy of his uncle’s favour by good behaviour, served up supper, at which they talked of several indifferent matters; and then the magician, who saw that the night was pretty far advanced, took his leave, and retired.

He came again the next day, as he had promised, and took Alla ad Deen with him to a merchant, who sold all sorts of clothes for different ages and ranks ready made, and a variety of fine stuffs.  He asked to see some that suited Alla ad Deen in size; and after choosing a suit for himself which he liked best, and rejecting others which he did not think handsome enough, he bade Alla ad Deen choose those he preferred.  Alla ad Deen, charmed with the liberality of his new uncle, made choice of one, and the magician immediately paid for it.

When Alla ad Deen found himself so handsomely equipped, he returned his uncle thanks; who promised never to forsake him, but always to take him along with him; which he did to the most frequented places in the city, and particularly where the principal merchants kept their shops.

When he brought him into the street where they sold the richest stuffs, and finest linens, he said to Alla ad Deen, “As you are soon to be a merchant, it is proper you should frequent these shops, and be acquainted with them.”  He then shewed him the largest and finest mosques, carried him to the khans or inns where the merchants and travellers lodged, and afterwards to the sultan’s palace, where he had free access; and at last brought him to his own khan, where meeting with some merchants he had become acquainted with since his arrival, he gave them a treat, to bring them and his pretended nephew acquainted.

This entertainment lasted till night, when Alla ad Deen would have taken leave of his uncle to go home; the magician would not let him go by himself, but conducted him to his mother, who, as soon as she saw him so well dressed, was transported with joy, and bestowed a thousand blessings upon the magician, for being at so great an expense upon her child.  “Generous relation!” said she, “I know not how to thank you for your liberality!  I know that my son is not deserving of your favours; and were he ever so grateful, and answered your good intentions, he would be unworthy of them.  I thank you with all my soul, and wish you may live long enough to witness my son’s gratitude, which he cannot better shew than by regulating his conduct by your good advice.”  “Alla ad Deen,” replied the magician, “is a good boy, and I believe we shall do very well; but I am sorry for one thing, which is, that I cannot perform to-morrow what I promised, because, as it is Friday, the shops will be shut up, and therefore we cannot hire or furnish one, but must wait till Saturday.  I will, however, call on him to-morrow and take him to walk in the gardens, where people of the best fashion generally resort.  Perhaps he has never seen these amusements, he has only hitherto been among children; but now he must see men.”  The African magician took his leave of the mother and the son, and retired.  Alla ad Deen, who was overjoyed to be so well clothed, anticipated the pleasure of walking in the gardens.  He had never been out of the town, nor seen the environs, which were very beautiful and pleasant.

Alla ad Deen rose early the next morning, dressed himself, to be ready when his uncle called on him; and after he had waited some time, began to be impatient, and stood watching at the door; but as soon as he perceived him coming, he told his mother, took his leave of her, and ran to meet him.

The magician caressed Alla ad Deen, and said, “Come, my dear child, and I will shew you fine things.”  He then led him out at one of the gates of the city, to some magnificent houses, or rather palaces, to each of which belonged beautiful gardens, into which anybody might enter.  At every building he came to, he asked Alla ad Deen if he did not think it fine; and the youth was ready to answer when any one presented itself, crying out, “Here is a finer house, uncle, than any we have seen yet.”  By this artifice, the cunning magician led Alla ad Deen some way into the country; and as he meant to carry him farther, to execute his design, he took an opportunity to sit down in one of the gardens on the brink of a fountain of clear water, which discharged itself by a lion’s mouth of bronze into a basin, pretending to be tired.  “Come, nephew,” said he, “you must be weary as well as I; let us rest ourselves, and we shall be better able to pursue our walk.”

After they had sat down, the magician pulled from his girdle a handkerchief with cakes and fruit, which he had provided, and laid them on the edge of the basin.  He broke a cake in two, gave one half to Alla ad Deen, and ate the other himself; and in regard to the fruit, left him at liberty to take which sort he liked best.  During this short repast, he exhorted his nephew to leave off keeping company with vagabonds, and seek that of wise and prudent men, to improve by their conversation.  “For,” said he, “you will soon be at man’s estate, and you cannot too early begin to imitate their example.”  When they had eaten as much as they liked, they got up, and pursued their walk through gardens separated from one another only by small ditches, which marked out the limits without interrupting the communication; so great was the confidence the inhabitants reposed in each other.  By this means, the African magician drew Alla ad Deen insensibly beyond the gardens, and crossed the country, till they nearly reached the mountains.

Alla ad Deen, who had never been so far before, began to find himself much tired with so long a walk, and said to the magician, “Where are we going, uncle?  We have left the gardens a great way behind us, and I see nothing but mountains; if we go much further, I do not know whether I shall be able to reach the town again?” “Never fear, nephew,” said the false uncle; “I will shew you another garden which surpasses all we have yet seen; it is not far off; and when we come there, you will say that you would have been sorry to have been so nigh, and not seen it.”  Alla ad Deen was soon persuaded; and the magician, to make the way seem shorter and less fatiguing, told him a great many stories.

At last they arrived between two mountains of moderate height, and equal size, divided by a narrow valley, which was the place where the magician intended to execute the design that had brought him from Africa to China.  “We will go no farther now,” said he to Alla ad Deen:  “I will shew you here some extraordinary things, which, when you have seen, you will thank me for:  but while I strike a light, gather up all the loose dry sticks you can see, to kindle a fire with.”

Alla ad Deen found so many dried sticks, that before the magician had made a light, he had collected a great heap.  The magician presently set them on fire, and when they were in a blaze, threw in some incense which raised a cloud of smoke.  This he dispersed on each side, by pronouncing several magical words which Alla ad Deen did not understand.

At the same time the earth trembling, opened just before the magician, and uncovered a stone, laid horizontally, with a brass ring fixed into the middle.  Alla ad Deen was so frightened at what he saw, that he would have run away; but the magician caught hold of him, abused him, and gave him such a box on the ear, that he knocked him down.  Alla ad Deen got up trembling, and with tears in his eyes, said to the magician, “What have I done, uncle, to be treated in this severe manner?” “I have my reasons,” answered the magician:  “I am your uncle, I supply the place of your father, and you ought to make no reply.  But, child,” added he, softening, “do not be afraid; for I shall not ask any thing of you, but that you obey me punctually, if you would reap the advantages which I intend you.”  These fair promises calmed Alla ad Deen’s fears and resentment; and when the magician saw that he was appeased, he said to him, “You see what I have done by virtue of my incense, and the words I pronounced.  Know then, that under this stone there is hidden a treasure, destined to be yours, and which will make you richer than the greatest monarch in the world:  no person but yourself is permitted to lift this stone, or enter the cave; so you must punctually execute what I may command, for it is a matter of great consequence both to you and me.”

Alla ad Deen, amazed at all he saw and heard the magician say of the treasure which was to make him happy, forgot what was past, and rising, said, “Well, uncle, what is to be done?  Command me, I am ready to obey.”  “I am overjoyed, child,” said the African magician, embracing him; “take hold of the ring, and lift up that stone.”  “Indeed, uncle,” replied Alla ad Deen, “I am not strong enough, you must help me.”  “You have no occasion for my assistance,” answered the magician; “if I help you, we shall be able to do nothing; take hold of the ring, pronounce the names of your father and grandfather, then lift it up, and you will find it will come easily.”  Alla ad Deen did as the magician bade him, raised the stone with ease, and laid it on one side.

When the stone was pulled up, there appeared a cavity of about three or four feet deep, with a little door, and steps to go down lower.  “Observe, my son,” said the African magician, “what I direct.  Descend into the cave, and when you are at the bottom of those steps you will find a door open, which will lead you into a spacious vault, divided into three great halls, in each of which you will see four large brass cisterns placed on each side, full of gold and silver; but take care you do not meddle with them.  Before you enter the first hall, be sure to tuck up your vest, wrap it about you, and then pass through the second into the third without stopping.  Above all things, have a care that you do not touch the walls, so much as with your clothes; for if you do, you will die instantly.  At the end of the third hall, you will find a door which opens into a garden planted with fine trees loaded with fruit; walk directly across the garden by a path which will lead you to five steps that will bring you upon a terrace, where you will see a niche before you, and in that niche a lighted lamp.  Take the lamp down, and extinguish it:  when you have thrown away the wick, and poured out the liquor, put it in your vestband and bring it to me.  Do not be afraid that the liquor will spoil your clothes, for it is not oil; and the lamp will be dry as soon as it is thrown out.  If you should wish for any of the fruit of the garden, you may gather as much as you please.”

After these words, the magician drew a ring off his finger, and put it on one of Alla ad Deen’s, telling him that it was a preservative against all evil, while he should observe what he had prescribed to him.  After this instruction he said, “Go down boldly, child, and we shall both be rich all our lives.”

Alla ad Deen jumped into the cave, descended the steps, and found the three halls just as the African magician had described.  He went through them with all the precaution the fear of death could inspire; crossed the garden without stopping, took down the lamp from the niche, threw out the wick and the liquor, and, as the magician had desired, put it in his vestband.  But as he came down from the terrace, seeing it was perfectly dry, he stopped in the garden to observe the fruit, which he only had a glimpse of in crossing it.  All the trees were loaded with extraordinary fruit, of different colours on each tree.  Some bore fruit entirely white, and some clear and transparent as crystal; some pale red, and others deeper; some green, blue, and purple, and others yellow:  in short, there was fruit of all colours.  The white were pearls; the clear and transparent, diamonds; the deep red, rubies; the paler, rubies; the green, emeralds; the blue, turquoises; the purple, amethysts; and those that were of yellow cast, sapphires.  Alla ad Deen was altogether ignorant of their worth, and would have preferred figs and grapes, or any other fruits.  But though he took them only for coloured glass of little value, yet he was so pleased with the variety of the colours, and the beauty and extraordinary size of the seeming fruit, that he resolved to gather some of every sort; and accordingly filled the two new purses his uncle had bought for him with his clothes.  Some he wrapped up in the skirts of his vest, which was of silk, large and wrapping, and crammed his bosom as full as it could hold.

Alla ad Deen, having thus loaded himself with riches he knew not the value of, returned through the three halls with the same precaution, made all the haste he could, that he might not make his uncle wait, and soon arrived at the mouth of the cave, where the African magician expected him with the utmost impatience.  As soon as Alla ad Deen saw him, he cried out, “Pray, uncle, lend me your hand, to help me out.”  “Give me the lamp first,” replied the magician; “it will be troublesome to you.”  “Indeed, uncle,” answered Alla ad Deen, “I cannot now; it is not troublesome to me:  but I will as soon as I am up.”  The African magician was so obstinate, that he would have the lamp before he would help him up; and Alla ad Deen, who had encumbered himself so much with his fruit that he could not well get at it, refused to give it to him till he was out of the cave.  The African magician, provoked at this obstinate refusal, flew into a passion, threw a little of his incense into the fire, which he had taken care to keep in, and no sooner pronounced two magical words, than the stone which had closed the mouth of the cave moved into its place, with the earth over it in the same manner as it lay at the arrival of the magician and Alla ad Deen.

This action of the African magician’s plainly shewed him to be neither Alla ad Deen’s uncle, nor Mustapha the tailor’s brother; but a true African.  Africa is a country whose inhabitants delight most in magic of any in the whole world, and he had applied himself to it from his youth.  After forty years’ experience in enchantments, geomancy, fumigations, and reading of magic books, he had found out that there was in the world a wonderful lamp, the possession of which would render him more powerful than any monarch; and by a late operation of geomancy, he had discovered that this lamp lay concealed in a subterraneous place in the midst of China, in the situation already described.  Fully persuaded of the truth of this discovery, he set out from the farthest part of Africa; and after a long and fatiguing journey, came to the town nearest to this treasure.  But though he had a certain knowledge of the place where the lamp was, he was not permitted to take it himself, nor to enter the subterraneous place, but must receive it from the hands of another person.  For this reason he had addressed himself to Alla ad Deen, whom he looked upon as a young lad whose life was of no consequence, and fit to serve his purpose, resolving, as soon as he should get the lamp into his hands, to sacrifice him to his avarice and wickedness, by making the fumigation mentioned before, and repeating two magical words, the effect of which would remove the stone into its place, so that no witness would remain of the transaction.

The blow he had given Alla ad Deen was intended to make him obey the more readily, and give him the lamp as soon as he should ask for it.  But his too great precipitation, and his fear lest somebody should come that way during their dispute, and discover what he wished to keep secret, produced an effect quite contrary to what he had proposed to himself.

When the African magician saw that all his hopes were frustrated forever, he returned the same day for Africa; but went quite round the town, and at some distance from it, lest some persons who had observed him walk out with the boy, on seeing him come back without him, should entertain any suspicions, and stop him.

According to all appearances, there was no prospects of Alla ad Deen being any more heard of.  But the magician, when he had contrived his death, forgot the ring he had put upon his finger, which preserved him, though he knew not its virtue.  It may seem astonishing that the loss of that, together with the lamp, did not drive the magician to despair; but magicians are so much used to misfortunes, and events contrary to their wishes, that they do not lay them to heart, but still feed themselves, to the end of life, with unsubstantial notions and chimeras.

The surprise of Alla ad Deen, who had never suspected this treachery from his pretended uncle, after all his caresses and what he had done for him, is more easily to be imagined than expressed.  When he found himself buried alive, he cried, and called out to his uncle, to tell him he was ready to give him the lamp; but in vain, since his cries could not be heard.  He descended to the bottom of the steps, with a design to get into the garden, but the door, which was opened before by enchantment, was now shut by the same means.  He then redoubled his cries and tears, sat down on the steps, without any hopes of ever seeing light again, and in a melancholy certainty of passing from the present darkness into that of a speedy death.

Alla ad Deen remained in this state two days, without eating or drinking, and on the third looked upon death as inevitable.  Clasping his hands with an entire resignation to the will of God, he said, “There is no strength or power but in the great and high God.”  In this action of joining his hands he rubbed the ring which the magician had put on his finger, and of which he knew not yet the virtue.  Immediately a genie of enormous size and frightful aspect rose out of the earth, his head reaching the roof of the vault, and said to him, “What wouldst thou have?  I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all who may possess the ring on thy finger; I, and the other slaves of that ring.”

At another time, Alla ad Deen, who had not been used to such appearances, would have been so frightened at the sight of so extraordinary a figure that he would not have been able to speak; but the danger he was in made him answer without hesitation, “Whoever thou art, deliver me from this place, if thou art able.”  He had no sooner spoken these words, than he found himself on the very spot where the magician had caused the earth to open.

It was some time before his eyes could bear the light, after being so long in total darkness:  but after he had endeavoured by degrees to support it, and began to look about him, he was much surprised not to find the earth open, and could not comprehend how he had got so soon out of its bowels.  There was nothing to be seen but the place where the fire had been, by which he could nearly judge the situation of the cave.  Then turning himself towards the town, he perceived it at a distance in the midst of the gardens that surrounded it, and saw the way by which the magician had brought him.  Returning God thanks to find himself once more in the world, he made the best of his way home.  When he got within his mother’s door, the joy to see her and his weakness for want of sustenance for three days made him faint, and he remained for a long time as dead.  His mother, who had given him over for lost, seeing him in this condition, omitted nothing to bring him to himself.  As soon as he recovered, the first words he spoke, were, “Pray, mother, give me something to eat, for I have not put a morsel of anything into my mouth these three days.”  His mother brought what she had, and set it before him.  “My son,” said she, “be not too eager, for it is dangerous; eat but little at a time, and take care of yourself.  Besides, I would not have you talk; you will have time enough to tell me what has happened to you when you are recovered.  It is a great comfort to me to see you again, after the affliction I have been in since Friday, and the pains I have taken to learn what was become of you.”

Alla ad Deen took his mother’s advice, and ate and drank moderately.  When he had done, “Mother,” said he to her, “I cannot help complaining of you, for abandoning me so easily to the discretion of a man who had a design to kill me and who at this very moment thinks my death certain.  You believed he was my uncle, as well as I; and what other thoughts could we entertain of a man who was so kind to me, and made such advantageous proffers?  But I must tell you, mother, he is a rogue and a cheat, and only made me those promises to accomplish my death; but for what reason neither you nor I can guess.  For my part, I can assure you, I never gave him any cause to justify the least ill treatment from him.  You shall judge yourself, when you have heard all that passed from the time I left you, till he came to the execution of his wicked design.”

Alla ad Deen then related to his mother all that had happened to him from the Friday, when the magician took him to see the palaces and gardens about the town, and what fell out in the way, till they came to the place between the two mountains where the great prodigy was to be performed; how, with incense which the magician threw into the fire, and some magical words which he pronounced, the earth opened, and discovered a cave, which led to an inestimable treasure.  He forgot not the blow the magician had given him, in what manner he softened again, and engaged him by great promises, and putting a ring to his finger, to go down into the cave.  He did not omit the least circumstance of what he saw in crossing the three halls and the garden, and his taking the lamp, which he pulled out of his bosom and shewed to his mother, as well as the transparent fruit of different colours, which he had gathered in the garden as he returned.  But, though these fruits were precious stones, brilliant as the sun, and the reflection of a lamp which then lighted the room might have led them to think they were of great value, she was as ignorant of their worth as her son, and cared nothing for them.  She had been bred in a low rank of life, and her husband’s poverty prevented his being possessed of jewels, nor had she, her relations, or neighbours, ever seen any; so that we must not wonder that she regarded them as things of no value, and only pleasing to the eye by the variety of their colours.

Alla ad Deen put them behind one of the cushions of the sofa, and continued his story, telling his mother, that when he returned to the mouth of the cave, upon his refusal to give the magician the lamp till he should get out, the stone, by his throwing some incense into the fire, and using two or three magical words, shut him in, and the earth closed.  He could not help bursting into tears at the representation of the miserable condition he was in, at finding himself buried alive in a dismal cave, till by the touching of his ring, the virtue of which he was till then an entire stranger to, he, properly speaking, came to life again.  When he had finished his story, he said to his mother, “I need say no more, you know the rest.  This is my adventure, and the danger I have been exposed to since you saw me.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother heard with so much patience as not to interrupt him this surprising and wonderful relation, notwithstanding it could be no small affliction to a mother, who loved her son tenderly:  but yet in the most moving part which discovered the perfidy of the African magician, she could not help shewing, by marks of the greatest indignation, how much she detested him; and when her son had finished his story, she broke out into a thousand reproaches against that vile impostor.  She called him perfidious traitor, barbarian, assassin, deceiver, magician, and an enemy and destroyer of mankind.  “Without doubt, child,” added she, “he is a magician, and they are plagues to the world, and by their enchantments and sorceries have commerce with the devil.  Bless God for preserving you from his wicked designs; for your death would have been inevitable, if you had not called upon him, and implored his assistance.”  She said a great deal more against the magician’s treachery; but finding that whilst she talked, Alla ad Deen, who had not slept for three days and nights, began to doze, she left him to his repose and retired.

Alla ad Deen, who had not closed his eyes while he was in the subterraneous abode, slept very soundly till late the next morning; when the first thing he said to his mother was that he wanted something to eat, and that she could not do him a greater kindness than to give him his breakfast.  “Alas! child,” said she, “I have not a bit of bread to give you, you ate up all the provisions I had in the house yesterday; but have a little patience, and it shall not be long before I will bring you some:  I have a little cotton, which I have spun; I will go and sell it, buy bread, and something for our dinner.”  “Mother,” replied Alla ad Deen, “keep your cotton for another time, and give me the lamp I brought home with me yesterday; I will go and sell it, and the money I shall get for it will serve both for breakfast and dinner, and perhaps supper too.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother took the lamp, and said to her son, “Here it is, but it is very dirty; if it was a little cleaner I believe it would bring something more.”  She took some fine sand and water to clean it; but had no sooner begun to rub it, than in an instant a hideous genie of gigantic size appeared before her, and said to her in a voice like thunder, “What wouldst thou have?  I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I and the other slaves of the lamp.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother, terrified at the sight of the genie, fainted; when Alla ad Deen, who had seen such a phantom in the cavern, snatched the lamp out of his mother’s hand, and said to the genie boldly, “I am hungry, bring me something to eat.”  The genie disappeared immediately, and in an instant returned with a large silver tray, holding twelve covered dishes of the same metal, which contained the most delicious viands; six large white bread cakes on two plates, two flagons of wine, and two silver cups.  All these he placed upon a carpet, and disappeared; this was done before Alla ad Deen’s mother recovered from her swoon.

Alla ad Deen had fetched some water, and sprinkled it in her face, to recover her:  whether that or the smell of the meat brought her to life again, it was not long before she came to herself.  “Mother,” said Alla ad Deen, “do not mind this; get up, and come and eat; here is what will put you in heart, and at the same time satisfy my extreme hunger:  do not let such delicious meat get cold.”

His mother was much surprised to see the great tray, twelve dishes, six loaves, the two flagons and cups, and to smell the savoury odour which exhaled from the dishes.  “Child,” said she, “to whom are we obliged for this great plenty and liberality?  Has the sultan been made acquainted with our poverty, and had compassion on us?” “It is no matter, mother,” said Alla ad Deen, “let us sit down and eat; for you have almost as much need of a good breakfast as myself; when we have done, I will tell you.”  Accordingly both mother and son sat down, and ate with the better relish as the table was so well furnished.  But all the time Alla ad Deen’s mother could not forbear looking at and admiring the tray and dishes, though she could not judge whether they were silver or any other metal, and the novelty more than the value attracted her attention.

The mother and son sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and then they thought it would be best to put the two meals together; yet after this they found they should have enough left for supper, and two meals for the next day.

When Alla ad Deen’s mother had taken away and set by what was left, she went and sat down by her son on the sofa, saying, “I expect now that you should satisfy my impatience, and tell me exactly what passed between the genie and you while I was in a swoon;” which he readily complied with.

She was in as great amazement at what her son told her, as at the appearance of the genie; and said to him, “But, son, what have we to do with genii?  I never heard that any of my acquaintance had ever seen one.  How came that vile genie to address himself to me, and not to you, to whom he had appeared before in the cave?” “Mother,” answered Alla ad Deen, “the genie you saw is not the one who appeared to me, though he resembles him in size; no, they had quite different persons and habits; they belong to different masters.  If you remember, he that I first saw, called himself the slave of the ring on my finger; and this you saw, called himself the slave of the lamp you had in your hand:  but I believe you did not hear him, for I think you fainted as soon as he began to speak.”

“What!” cried the mother, “was your lamp then the occasion of that cursed genie addressing himself rather to me than to you?  Ah my son, take it out of my sight, and put it where you please.  I will never touch it.  I had rather you would sell it, than run the hazard of being frightened to death again by touching it:  and if you would take my advice, you would part also with the ring, and not have any thing to do with genii, who, as our prophet has told us, are only devils.”

“With your leave, mother,” replied Alla ad Deen, “I shall now take care how I sell a lamp, which may be so serviceable both to you and me.  Have not you been an eye-witness of what it has procured us? and it shall still continue to furnish us with subsistence and maintenance.  You may suppose as I do, that my false and wicked uncle would not have taken so much pains, and undertaken so long and tedious a journey, if it had not been to get into his possession this wonderful lamp, which he preferred before all the gold and silver which he knew was in the halls, and which I have seen with my own eyes.  He knew too well the worth of this lamp, not to prefer it to so great a treasure; and since chance hath discovered the virtue of it to us, let us make a profitable use of it, without making any great shew, and exciting the envy and jealousy of our neighbours.  However, since the genii frighten you so much, I will take it out of your sight, and put it where I may find it when I want it.  The ring I cannot resolve to part with; for without that you had never seen me again; and though I am alive now, perhaps, if it was gone, I might not be so some moments hence; therefore I hope you will give me leave to keep it, and to wear it always on my finger.  Who knows what dangers you and I may be exposed to, which neither of us can foresee, and from which it may deliver us.”  As Alla ad Deen’s arguments were just, his mother had nothing to say against them; she only replied, that he might do what he pleased, for her part, she would have nothing to do with genii, but would wash her hands of them, and never say anything more about them.

By the next night they had eaten all the provisions the genie had brought; and the next day Alla ad Deen, who could not bear the thoughts of hunger, putting one of the silver dishes under his vest, went out early to sell it, and addressing himself to a Jew whom he met in the streets, took him aside, and pulling out the plate, asked him if he would buy it.  The cunning Jew took the dish, examined it, and as soon as he found that it was good silver, asked Alla ad Deen at how much he valued it.  Alla ad Deen, who knew not its value, and never had been used to such traffic, told him he would trust to his judgment and honour.  The Jew was somewhat confounded at this plain dealing; and doubting whether Alla ad Deen understood the material or the full value of what he offered to sell, took a piece of gold out of his purse and gave it him, though it was but the sixtieth part of the worth of the plate.  Alla ad Deen, taking the money very eagerly, retired with so much haste, that the Jew, not content with the exorbitancy of his profit, was vexed he had not penetrated into his ignorance, and was going to run after him, to endeavour to get some change out of the piece of gold; but he ran so fast, and had got so far, that it would have been impossible for him to overtake him.

Before Alla ad Deen went home, he called at a baker’s, bought some cakes of bread, changed his money, and on his return gave the rest to his mother, who went and purchased provisions enough to last them some time.  After this manner they lived, till Alla ad Deen had sold the twelve dishes singly, as necessity pressed, to the Jew, for the same money; who, after the first time, durst not offer him less, for fear of losing so good a bargain.  When he had sold the last dish, he had recourse to the tray, which weighed ten times as much as the dishes, and would have carried it to his old purchaser, but that it was too large and cumbersome; therefore he was obliged to bring him home with him to his mother’s, where, after the Jew had examined the weight of the tray, he laid down ten pieces of gold, with which Alla ad Deen was very well satisfied.

They lived on these ten pieces in a frugal manner, and Alla ad Deen, though used to an idle life, had left off playing with young lads of his own age ever since his adventure with the African magician.  He spent his time in walking about, and conversing with decent people, with whom he gradually got acquainted.  Sometimes he would stop at the principal merchants’ shops, where people of distinction met, and listen to their discourse, by which he gained some little knowledge of the world.

When all the money was spent, Alla ad Deen had recourse again to the lamp.  He took it in his hand, looked for the part where his mother had rubbed it with the sand, rubbed it also, when the genie immediately appeared, and said, “What wouldst thou have?  I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; I, and the other slaves of the lamp.”  “I am hungry,” said Alla ad Deen, “bring me something to eat.”  The genie disappeared, and presently returned with a tray, the same number of covered dishes as before, set them down, and vanished.

Alla ad Deen’s mother, knowing what her son was going to do, went out about some business, on purpose to avoid being in the way when the genie came; and when she returned, was almost as much surprised as before at the prodigious effect of the lamp.  However, she sat down with her son, and when they had eaten as much as they liked, she set enough by to last them two or three days.

As soon as Alla ad Deen found that their provisions were expended, he took one of the dishes, and went to look for his Jew chapman; but passing by a goldsmith’s shop, who had the character of a very fair and honest man, the goldsmith perceiving him, called to him, and said, “My lad, I have often observed you go by, loaded as you are at present, and talk with such a Jew, and then come back again empty handed.  I imagine that you carry something which you sell to him; but perhaps you do not know that he is the greatest rogue even among the Jews, and is so well known, that nobody of prudence will have anything to do with him.  What I tell you is for your own good.  If you will shew me what you now carry, and it is to be sold, I will give you the full worth of it; or I will direct you to other merchants who will not cheat you.”

The hopes of getting more money for his plate induced Alla ad Deen to pull it from under his vest, and shew it to the goldsmith, who at first sight saw that it was made of the finest silver, asked him if he had sold such as that to the Jew, when Alla ad Deen told him that he had sold him twelve such, for a piece of gold each.  “What a villain!” cried the goldsmith; “but,” added he, “my son, what is passed cannot be recalled.  By shewing you the value of this plate, which is of the finest silver we use in our shops, I will let you see how much the Jew has cheated you.”

The goldsmith took a pair of scales, weighed the dish, and after he had mentioned how much an ounce of fine silver cost, assured him that his plate would fetch by weight sixty pieces of gold, which he offered to pay down immediately.  “If you dispute my honesty,” said he, “you may go to any other of our trade, and if he gives you more, I will be bound to forfeit twice as much; for we gain only the fashion of the plate we buy, and that the fairest dealing Jews are not contented with.”

Alla ad Deen thanked him for his fair dealing, so greatly to his advantage, took the gold, and never after went to any other person, but sold him all his dishes and the tray, and had as much for them as the weight came to.

Though Alla ad Deen and his mother had an inexhaustible treasure in their lamp, and might have had whatever they wished for, yet they lived with the same frugality as before, except that Alla ad Deen dressed better; as for his mother, she wore no clothes but what she earned by spinning cotton.  After their manner of living, it may easily be supposed, that the money for which Alla ad Deen had sold the dishes and tray was sufficient to maintain them some time.

During this interval, Alla ad Deen frequented the shops of the principal merchants, where they sold cloth of gold and silver, linens, silk stuffs, and jewellery, and oftentimes joining in their conversation, acquired a knowledge of the world, and respectable demeanour.  By his acquaintance among the jewellers, he came to know that the fruits which he had gathered when he took the lamp were, instead of coloured glass, stones of inestimable value; but he had the prudence not to mention this to any one, not even to his mother.

One day as Alla ad Deen was walking about the town, he heard an order proclaimed, commanding the people to shut up their shops and houses, and keep within doors, while the princess Buddir al Buddoor, the sultan’s daughter, went to the baths and returned.

This proclamation inspired Alla ad Deen with eager curiosity to see the princess’s face, which he could not do without admission into the house of some acquaintance, and then only through a window; which did not satisfy him, when he considered that the princess, when she went to the baths, would be closely veiled; but to gratify his curiosity, he presently thought of a scheme, which succeeded; it was to place himself behind the door of the bath, which was so situated that he could not fail of seeing her face.

Alla ad Deen had not waited long before the princess came, and he could see her plainly through a chink of the door without being discovered.  She was attended by a great crowd of ladies, slaves and eunuchs, who walked on each side, and behind her.  When she came within three or four paces of the door of the baths, she took off her veil, and gave Alla ad Deen an opportunity of a full view.

As soon as Alla ad Deen had seen the princess, his heart could not withstand those inclinations so charming an object always inspires.  The princess was the most beautiful brunette in the world; her eyes were large, lively, and sparkling; her looks sweet and modest; her nose was of a just proportion and without a fault, her mouth small, her lips of a vermilion red and charmingly agreeable symmetry; in a word, all the features of her face were perfectly regular.  It is not therefore surprising that Alla ad Deen, who had never before seen such a blaze of charms, was dazzled, and his senses ravished by such an assemblage.  With all these perfections the princess had so fine a form, and so majestic an air, that the sight of her was sufficient to inspire love and admiration.

After the princess had passed by, and entered the baths, Alla ad Deen remained some time astonished, and in a kind of ecstacy, retracing and imprinting the idea of so charming an object deeply in his mind.  But at last, considering that the princess was gone past him, and that when she returned from the bath her back would be towards him, and then veiled, he resolved to quit his hiding place and go home.  He could not so far conceal his uneasiness but that his mother perceived it, was surprised to see him so much more thoughtful and melancholy than usual; and asked what had happened to make him so, or if he was ill?  He returned her no answer, but sat carelessly down on the sofa, and remained silent, musing on the image of the charming Buddir al Buddoor.  His mother, who was dressing supper, pressed him no more.  When it was ready, she served it up, and perceiving that he gave no attention to it, urged him to eat, but had much ado to persuade him to change his place; which when he did, he ate much less than usual, all the time cast down his eyes, and observed so profound a silence, that she could not obtain a word in answer to all the questions she put, in order to find the reason of so extraordinary an alteration.

After supper, she asked him again why he was so melancholy, but could get no information, and he determined to go to bed rather than give her the least satisfaction.  Without examining how he passed the night, his mind full as it was with the charms of the princess, I shall only observe that as he sat next day on the sofa, opposite his mother, as she was spinning cotton, he spoke to her in these words:  “I perceive, mother, that my silence yesterday has much troubled you; I was not, nor am I sick, as I fancy you believed; but I assure you, that what I felt then, and now endure, is worse than any disease.  I cannot explain what ails me; but doubt not what I am going to relate will inform you.

“It was not proclaimed in this quarter of the town, and therefore you could know nothing of it, that the sultan’s daughter was yesterday to go to the baths.  I heard this as I walked about the town, and an order was issued that all the shops should be shut up in her way thither, and everybody keep within doors, to leave the streets free for her and her attendants.  As I was not then far from the bath, I had a great curiosity to see the princess’s face; and as it occurred to me that the princess, when she came nigh the door of the bath, would pull her veil off, I resolved to conceal myself behind the door.  You know the situation of the door, and may imagine that I must have had a full view of her.  The princess threw off her veil, and I had the happiness of seeing her lovely face with the greatest security.  This, mother, was the cause of my melancholy and silence yesterday; I love the princess with more violence than I can express; and as my passion increases every moment, I cannot live without the possession of the amiable Buddir al Buddoor, and am resolved to ask her in marriage of the sultan her father.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother listened with surprise to what her son told her; but when he talked of asking the princess in marriage, she could not help bursting out into a loud laugh.  Alla ad Deen would have gone on with his rhapsody, but she interrupted him.  “Alas! child,” said she, “what are you thinking of? you must be mad to talk thus.”

“I assure you, mother,” replied Alla ad Deen, “that I am not mad, but in my right senses; I foresaw that you would reproach me with folly and extravagance; but I must tell you once more that I am resolved to demand the princess of the sultan in marriage, and your remonstrances shall not prevent me.”

“Indeed, son,” replied the mother seriously, “I cannot help telling you that you have forgotten yourself; and if you would put this resolution of yours in execution, I do not see whom you can prevail upon to venture to make the proposal for you.”  “You yourself,” replied he immediately.  “I go to the sultan!” answered the mother, amazed and surprised.  “I shall be cautious how I engage in such an errand.  Why, who are you, son,” continued she, “that you can have the assurance to think of your sultan’s daughter?  Have you forgotten that your father was one of the poorest tailors in the capital, and that I am of no better extraction; and do not you know that sultans never marry their daughters but to princes, sons of sovereigns like themselves?”

“Mother,” answered Alla ad Deen, “I have already told you that I foresaw all that you have said, or can say:  and tell you again, that neither your discourse nor your remonstrances shall make me change my mind.  I have told you that you must ask the princess in marriage for me:  it is a favour I desire of you, and I beg of you not to refuse, unless you would rather see me in my grave, than by your compliance give me new life.”

The good old woman was much embarrassed, when she found Alla ad Deen obstinately persisting in so wild a design.  “My son,” said she again, “I am your mother, who brought you into the world, and there is nothing that is reasonable but I would readily do for you.  If I were to go and treat about your marriage with some neighbour’s daughter, whose circumstances were equal with yours, I would do it with all my heart; and even then they would expect you should have some little estate or fortune, or be of some trade.  When such poor folks as we are wish to marry, the first thing they ought to think of, is how to live.  But without reflecting on the meanness of your birth, and the little merit and fortune you have to recommend you, you aim at the highest pitch of exaltation; and your pretensions are no less than to demand in marriage the daughter of your sovereign, who with one single word can crush you to pieces.  I say nothing of what respects yourself.  I leave you to reflect on what you have to do, if you have ever so little thought.  I come now to consider what concerns myself.  How could so extraordinary a thought come into your head, as that I should go to the sultan and make a proposal to him to give his daughter in marriage to you?  Suppose I had, not to say the boldness, but the impudence to present myself before the sultan, and make so extravagant a request, to whom should I address myself to be introduced to his majesty?  Do you not think the first person I should speak to would take me for a mad woman, and chastise me as I should deserve?  Suppose, however, that there is no difficulty in presenting myself for an audience of the sultan, and I know there is none to those who go to petition for justice, which he distributes equally among his subjects; I know too that to those who ask a favour he grants it with pleasure when he sees it is deserved, and the persons are worthy of it.  But is that your case?  Do you think you have merited the honour you would have me ask for you?  Are you worthy of it?  What have you done to claim such a favour, either for your prince or country?  How have you distinguished yourself?  If you have done nothing to merit so high a distinction, nor are worthy of it, with what face shall I ask it?  How can I open my mouth to make the proposal to the sultan?  His majestic presence and the lustre of his court would absolutely confound me, who used even to tremble before my dear husband your father, when I asked him for any thing.  There is another reason, my son, which you do not think of, which is that nobody ever goes to ask a favour of the sultan without a present.  But what presents have you to make?  And if you had any that were worthy of the least attention of so great a monarch, what proportion could they bear to the favour you would ask?  Therefore, reflect well on what you are about, and consider, that you aspire to an object which it is impossible for you to obtain.”

Alla ad Deen heard very calmly all that his mother could say to dissuade him from his design, and after he had weighed her representations in all points, replied:  “I own, mother, it is great rashness in me to presume to carry my pretensions so far; and a great want of consideration to ask you with so much heat and precipitancy to go and make the proposal to the sultan, without first taking proper measures to procure a favourable reception, and therefore beg your pardon.  But be not surprised that through the violence of my passion I did not at first see every measure necessary to procure me the happiness I seek.  I love the princess, or rather I adore her, and shall always persevere in my design of marrying her.  I am obliged to you for the hint you have given me, and look upon it as the first step I ought to take to procure the happy issue I promise myself.

“You say it is not customary to go to the sultan without a present, and that I have nothing worthy of his acceptance.  As to the necessity of a present, I agree with you, and own that I never thought of it; but as to what you say that I have nothing fit to offer, do not you think, mother, that what I brought home with me the day on which I was delivered from an inevitable death, may be an acceptable present?  I mean what you and I both took for coloured glass:  but now I am undeceived, and can tell you that they are jewels of inestimable value, and fit for the greatest monarchs.  I know the worth of them by frequenting the shops; and you may take my word that all the precious stones which I saw in the most capital jewellers’ possessions were not to be compared to those we have, either for size or beauty, and yet they value theirs at an excessive price.  In short, neither you nor I know the value of ours; but be it as it may, by the little experience I have, I am persuaded that they will be received very favourably by the sultan:  you have a large porcelain dish fit to hold them; fetch it, and let us see how they will look, when we have arranged them according to their different colours.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother brought the china dish, when he took the jewels out of the two purses in which he had kept them, and placed them in order according to his fancy.  But the brightness and lustre they emitted in the day-time, and the variety of the colours, so dazzled the eyes both of mother and son, that they were astonished beyond measure; for they had only seen them by the light of a lamp; and though the latter had beheld them pendant on the trees like fruit beautiful to the eye, yet as he was then but a boy, he looked on them only as glittering playthings.

After they had admired the beauty of the jewels some time, Alla ad Deen said to his mother, “Now you cannot excuse yourself from going to the sultan, under pretext of not having a present to make him, since here is one which will gain you a favourable reception.”

Though the good widow, notwithstanding the beauty and lustre of the precious stones, did not believe them so valuable as her son estimated them, she thought such a present might nevertheless be agreeable to the sultan, but still she hesitated at the request.  “My son,” said she, “I cannot conceive that your present will have its desired effect, or that the sultan will look upon me with a favourable eye; I am sure, that if I attempt to deliver your strange message, I shall have no power to open my mouth; therefore I shall not only lose my labour, but the present, which you say is so invaluable, and shall return home again in confusion, to tell you that your hopes are frustrated.  I have represented the consequence, and you ought to believe me; but,” added she, “I will exert my best endeavour to please you, and wish I may have power to ask the sultan as you would have me; but certainly he will either laugh at me, send me back like a fool, or be in so great a rage, as to make us both the victims of his fury.”

She used many other arguments to endeavour to make him change his mind; but the charms of the princess had made too great an impression on his heart for him to be dissuaded from his design.  He persisted in importuning his mother to execute his resolution, and she, as much out of tenderness as for fear he should be guilty of greater extravagance, complied with his request.

As it was now late, and the time for admission to the palace was passed, it was put off till the next day.  The mother and son talked of different matters the remaining part of the day; and Alla ad Deen strove to encourage her in the task she had undertaken; while she, notwithstanding all his arguments, could not persuade herself she should succeed; and it must be confessed she had reason enough to doubt.  “Child,” said she to Alla ad Deen, “if the sultan should receive me as favourably as I wish for your sake, should even hear my proposal with calmness, and after this scarcely-to-be-expected reception should think of asking me where lie your riches and your estate (for he will sooner inquire after these than your person), if, I say, he should ask me these questions, what answer would you have me return him?”

“Let us not be uneasy, mother,” replied Alla ad Deen, “about what may never happen.  First, let us see how the sultan receives, and what answer he gives you.  If it should so fall out, that he desires to be informed of what you mention, I have thought of an answer, and am confident that the lamp which hath supported us so long will not fail me in time of need.”

The tailor’s widow could not say any thing against what her son then proposed; but reflected that the lamp might be capable of doing greater wonders than just providing victuals for them.  This consideration satisfied her, and at the same time removed all the difficulties which might have prevented her from undertaking the service she had promised her son with the sultan.  Alla ad Deen, who penetrated into his mother’s thoughts, said to her, “Above all things, mother, be sure to keep secret our possession of the lamp, for thereon depends the success we have to expect;” and after this caution, Alla ad Deen and his mother parted to go to rest.  But violent love, and the great prospect of so immense a fortune, had so much possessed the son’s thoughts, that he could not repose himself so well as he could have wished.  He rose before day-break, awakened his mother, pressing her to get herself dressed to go to the sultan’s palace, and to get admittance, if possible, before the grand vizier, the other viziers, and the great officers of state went in to take their seats in the divan, where the sultan always assisted in person.

Alla ad Deen’s mother took the china dish, in which they had put the jewels the day before, wrapped in two napkins, one finer than the other, which was tied at the four corners for more easy carriage, and set forward for the sultan’s palace.  When she came to the gates, the grand vizier, the other viziers and most distinguished lords of the court, were just gone in; but, notwithstanding the crowd of people who had business was great, she got into the divan, a spacious hall, the entrance into which was very magnificent.  She placed herself just before the sultan, grand vizier, and the great lords, who sat in council, on his right and left hand.  Several causes were called, according to their order, pleaded and adjudged, until the time the divan generally broke up, when the sultan rising, returned to his apartment, attended by the grand vizier; the other viziers and ministers of state then retired, as also did those whose business had called them thither; some pleased with gaining their causes, others dissatisfied at the sentences pronounced against them, and some in expectation of theirs being heard the next sitting.

Alla ad Deen’s mother, seeing the sultan retire, and all the people depart, judged rightly that he would not sit again that day, and resolved to go home.  When Alla ad Deen saw her return with the present designed for the sultan, he knew not what to think of her success, and in his fear lest she should bring him some ill news, had not courage to ask her any questions; but she, who had never set foot in the sultan’s palace before, and knew not what was every day practised there, freed him from his embarrassment, and said to him, with a great deal of simplicity, “Son, I have seen the sultan, and am very well persuaded he has seen me too; for I placed myself just before him; but he was so much taken up with those who attended on all sides of him, that I pitied him, and wondered at his patience.  At last I believe he was heartily tired, for he rose up suddenly, and would not hear a great many who were ready prepared to speak to him, but went away, at which I was well pleased, for indeed I began to lose all patience, and was extremely fatigued with staying so long.  But there is no harm done; I will go again to-morrow; perhaps the sultan may not be so busy.”

Though his passion was very violent, Alla ad Deen was forced to be satisfied with this delay, and to fortify himself with patience.  He had at least the satisfaction to find that his mother had got over the greatest difficulty, which was to procure access to the sultan, and hoped that the example of those she saw speak to him would embolden her to acquit herself better of her commission when a favourable opportunity might offer to speak to him.

The next morning she repaired to the sultan’s palace with the present, as early as the day before, but when she came there, she found the gates of the divan shut, and understood that the council sat but every other day, therefore she must come again the next.  This news she carried to her son, whose only relief was to guard himself with patience.  She went six times afterwards on the days appointed, placed herself always directly before the sultan, but with as little success as the first morning, and might have perhaps come a thousand times to as little purpose, if luckily the sultan himself had not taken particular notice of her:  for only those who came with petitions approached the sultan, when each pleaded their cause in its turn, and Alla ad Deen’s mother was not one of them.

On the sixth day, however, after the divan was broken up, when the sultan returned to his own apartment, he said to his grand vizier, “I have for some time observed a certain woman, who attends constantly every day that I give audience, with something wrapped up in a napkin:  she always stands up from the beginning to the breaking up of the audience, and affects to place herself just before me.  Do you know what she wants?”

“Sir,” replied the grand vizier, who knew no more than the sultan what she wanted, but did not wish to seem uninformed, “your majesty knows that women often make complaints on trifles; perhaps she may come to complain to your majesty that somebody has sold her some bad flour, or some such trifling matter.”  The sultan was not satisfied with this answer, but replied, “If this woman comes to our next audience, do not fail to call her, that I may hear what she has to say.”  The grand vizier made answer by lowering his hand, and then lifting it up above his head, signifying his willingness to lose it if he failed.

By this time, the tailor’s widow was so much used to go to audience, and stand before the sultan, that she did not think it any trouble, if she could but satisfy her son that she neglected nothing that lay in her power to please him:  the next audience day she went to the divan, placed herself in front of the sultan as usual; and before the grand vizier had made his report of business, the sultan perceived her, and compassionating her for having waited so long, said to the vizier, “Before you enter upon any business, remember the woman I spoke to you about; bid her come near, and let us hear and dispatch her business first.”  The grand vizier immediately called the chief of the mace-bearers who stood ready to obey his commands; and pointing to her, bade him go to that woman, and tell her to come before the sultan.

The chief of the officers went to Alla ad Deen’s mother, and at a sign he gave her, she followed him to the foot of the sultan’s throne, where he left her, and retired to his place by the grand vizier.  The old woman, after the example of others whom she saw salute the sultan, bowed her head down to the carpet, which covered the platform of the throne, and remained in that posture till the sultan bade her rise, which she had no sooner done, than he said to her, “Good woman, I have observed you to stand a long time, from the beginning to the rising of the divan; what business brings you here?”

After these words, Alla ad Deen’s mother prostrated herself a second time; and when she arose, said, “Monarch of monarchs, before I tell your majesty the extraordinary and almost incredible business which brings me before your high throne, I beg of you to pardon the boldness or rather impudence of the demand I am going to make, which is so uncommon, that I tremble, and am ashamed to propose it to my sovereign.”  In order to give her the more freedom to explain herself, the sultan ordered all to quit the divan but the grand vizier, and then told her she might speak without restraint.

Alla ad Deen’s mother, not content with this favour of the sultan’s to save her the trouble and confusion of speaking before so many people, was notwithstanding for securing herself against his anger, which, from the proposal she was going to make, she was not a little apprehensive of; therefore resuming her discourse, she said, “I beg of your majesty, if you should think my demand the least injurious or offensive, to assure me first of your pardon and forgiveness.”  “Well,” replied the sultan, “I will forgive you, be it what it may, and no hurt shall come to you:  speak boldly.”

When Alla ad Deen’s mother had taken all these precautions, for fear of the sultan’s anger, she told him faithfully how Alla ad Deen had seen the princess Buddir al Buddoor, the violent love that fatal sight had inspired him with, the declaration he had made to her of it when he came home, and what representations she had made “to dissuade him from a passion no less disrespectful,” said she, “to your majesty, as sultan, than to the princess your daughter.  But,” continued she, “my son, instead of taking my advice and reflecting on his presumption, was so obstinate as to persevere, and to threaten me with some desperate act, if I refused to come and ask the princess in marriage of your majesty; and it was not without the greatest reluctance that I was led to accede to his request, for which I beg your majesty once more to pardon not only me, but also Alla ad Deen my son, for entertaining so rash a project as to aspire to so high an alliance.”

The sultan hearkened to this discourse with mildness, and without shewing the least anger; but before he gave her any answer, asked her what she had brought tied up in the napkin.  She took the china dish, which she had set down at the foot of the throne, before she prostrated herself before him; untied it, and presented it to the sultan.

The sultan’s amazement and surprise were inexpressible, when he saw so many large, beautiful, and valuable jewels collected in the dish.  He remained for some time motionless with admiration.  At last, when he had recovered himself, he received the present from Alla ad Deen’s mother’s hand, crying out in a transport of joy, “How rich, how beautiful!” After he had admired and handled all the jewels, one after another, he turned to his grand vizier, and shewing him the dish, said, “Behold, admire, wonder, and confess that your eyes never beheld jewels so rich and beautiful before.”  The vizier was charmed.  “Well,” continued the sultan, “what sayst thou to such a present?  Is it not worthy of the princess my daughter?  And ought I not to bestow her on one who values her at so great price?”

These words put the grand vizier into extreme agitation.  The sultan had some time before signified to him his intention of bestowing the princess on a son of his; therefore he was afraid, and not without grounds, that the sultan, dazzled by so rich and extraordinary a present, might change his mind.  Therefore going to him, and whispering him in the ear, he said, “I cannot but own that the present is worthy of the princess; but I beg of your majesty to grant me three months before you come to a final resolution.  I hope, before that time, my son, on whom you have had the goodness to look with a favourable eye, will be able to make a nobler present than Alla ad Deen, who is an entire stranger to Your majesty.”

The sultan, though he was fully persuaded that it was not possible for the vizier to provide so considerable a present for his son to make the princess, yet as he had given him hopes, hearkened to him, and granted his request.  Turning therefore to the old widow, he said to her, “Good woman, go home, and tell your son that I agree to the proposal you have made me; but I cannot marry the princess my daughter, till the paraphernalia I design for her be got ready, which cannot be finished these three months; but at the expiration of that time come again.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother returned home much more gratified than she had expected, since she had met with a favourable answer, instead of the refusal and confusion she had dreaded.  From two circumstances Alla ad Deen, when he saw his mother returning, judged that she brought him good news; the one was, that she returned sooner than ordinary; and the other, the gaiety of her countenance.  “Well, mother,” said he, “may I entertain any hopes, or must I die with despair?” When she had pulled off her veil, and had seated herself on the sofa by him, she said to him, “Not to keep you long in suspense, son, I will begin by telling you, that instead of thinking of dying, you have every reason to be well satisfied.”  Then pursuing her discourse, she told him, that she had an audience before everybody else which made her come home so soon; the precautions she had taken lest she should have displeased the sultan, by making the proposal of marriage between him and the princess Buddir al Buddoor, and the condescending answer she had received from the sultan’s own mouth; and that as far as she could judge, the present had wrought a powerful effect.  “But when I least expected it,” said she, “and he was going to give me an answer, and I fancied a favourable one, the grand vizier whispered him in the ear, and I was afraid might be some obstacle to his good intentions towards us, and so it happened, for the sultan desired me to come to audience again this day three months.”

Alla ad Deen thought himself the most happy of all men at hearing this news, and thanked his mother for the pains she had taken in the affair, the good success of which was of so great importance to his peace.  Though from his impatience to obtain the object of his passion, three months seemed an age, yet he disposed himself to wait with patience, relying on the sultan’s word, which he looked upon to be irrevocable.  But all that time he not only counted the hours, days, and weeks, but every moment.  When two of the three months were past, his mother one evening going to light the lamp, and finding no oil in the house, went out to buy some, and when she came into the city, found a general rejoicing.  The shops, instead of being shut up, were open, dressed with foliage, silks, and carpeting, every one striving to show their zeal in the most distinguished manner according to his ability.  The streets were crowded with officers in habits of ceremony, mounted on horses richly caparisoned, each attended by a great many footmen.  Alla ad Deen’s mother asked the oil-merchant what was the meaning of all this preparation of public festivity.  “Whence came you, good woman,” said he, “that you don’t know that the grand vizier’s son is to marry the princess Buddir al Buddoor, the sultan’s daughter, to-night?  She will presently return from the baths; and these officers whom you see are to assist at the cavalcade to the palace, where the ceremony is to be solemnized.”

This was news enough for Alla ad Deen’s mother.  She ran till she was quite out of breath home to her son, who little suspected any such event.  “Child,” cried she, “you are undone!  You depend upon the sultan’s fine promises, but they will come to nothing.”  Alla ad Deen was alarmed at these words.  “Mother,” replied he, “how do you know the sultan has been guilty of a breach of promise?” “This night,” answered the mother, “the grand vizier’s son is to marry the princess Buddir al Buddoor.”  She then related how she had heard it; so that from all circumstances, he had no reason to doubt the truth of what she said.

At this account, Alla ad Deen was thunder-struck.  Any other man would have sunk under the shock; but a sudden hope of disappointing his rival soon roused his spirits, and he bethought himself of the lamp, which had on every emergence been so useful to him; and without venting his rage in empty words against the sultan, the vizier, or his son, he only said, “Perhaps, mother, the vizier’s son may not be so happy to-night as he promises himself:  while I go into my chamber a moment, do you get supper ready.”  She accordingly went about it, but guessed that her son was going to make use of the lamp, to prevent, if possible, the consummation of the marriage.

When Alla ad Deen had got into his chamber, he took the lamp, rubbed it in the same place as before, when immediately the genie appeared, and said to him, “What wouldst thou have?  I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their possession; I and the other slaves of the lamp.”  “Hear me,” said Alla ad Deen; “thou hast hitherto brought me whatever I wanted as to provisions; but now I have business of the greatest importance for thee to execute.  I have demanded the princess Buddir al Buddoor in marriage of the sultan her father; he promised her to me, only requiring three months delay; but instead of keeping that promise, has this night married her to the grand vizier’s son.  What I ask of you is, that as soon as the bride and bridegroom are retired, you bring them both hither in their bed.”  “Master,” replied the genie, “I will obey you.  Have you any other commands?” “None at present,” answered Alla ad Deen; the genie then disappeared.

Alla ad Deen having left his chamber, supped with his mother, with the same tranquillity of mind as usual; and after supper talked of the princess’s marriage as of an affair wherein he had not the least concern’; he then retired to his own chamber again, and left his mother to go to bed; but sat up waiting the execution of his orders to the genie.

In the meantime, everything was prepared with the greatest magnificence in the sultan’s palace to celebrate the princess’s nuptials; and the evening was spent with all the usual ceremonies and great rejoicings till midnight, when the grand vizier’s son, on a signal given him by the chief of the princess’s eunuchs, slipped away from the company, and was introduced by that officer into the princess’s apartment, where the nuptial bed was prepared.  He went to bed first, and in a little time after, the sultaness, accompanied by her own women, and those of the princess, brought the bride, who, according to the custom of new-married ladies, made great resistance.  The sultaness herself helped to undress her, put her into bed by a kind of violence:  and after having kissed her, and wished her good night, retired with the women to her own apartments.

No sooner was the door shut, than the genie, as the faithful slave of the lamp, and punctual in executing the command of those who possessed it, without giving the bridegroom the least time to caress his bride, to the great amazement of them both, took up the bed, and transported it in an instant into Alla ad Deen’s chamber, where he set it down.

Alla ad Deen, who had waited impatiently for this moment, did not suffer the vizier’s son to remain long in bed with the princess.  “Take this new-married man,” said he to the genie, “shut him up in the out-house, and come again tomorrow morning before day-break.”  The genie instantly forced the vizier’s son out of bed, carried him whither Alla ad Deen had commanded him; and after he had breathed upon him, which prevented him stirring, left him there.

Passionate as was Alla ad Deen’s love for the princess, he did not talk much to her when they were alone; but only said with a respectful air, “Fear nothing, adorable princess, you are here in safety; for, notwithstanding the violence of my passion, which your charms have kindled, it shall never exceed the bounds of the profound adoration I owe you.  If I have been forced to come to this extremity, it is not with any intention of affronting you, but to prevent an unjust rival’s possessing you, contrary to the sultan your father’s promise in favour of myself.”

The princess, who knew nothing of these particulars, gave very little attention to what Alla ad Deen could say.  The fright and amazement of so surprising and unexpected an adventure had alarmed her so much that he could not get one word from her.  However, he undressed himself, took the bridegroom’s place, but lay with his back to the princess, putting a sabre between himself and her, to shew that he deserved to be put to death, if he attempted anything against her honour.  Alla ad Deen, satisfied with having thus deprived his rival of the happiness he had flattered himself with, slept very soundly, though the princess Buddir al Buddoor never passed a night so ill in her life; and if we consider the condition in which the genie left the grand vizier’s son, we may imagine that the new bridegroom spent it much worse.

Alla ad Deen had no occasion the next morning to rub the lamp to call the genie; who appeared at the hour appointed, just when he had done dressing himself, and said to him, “I am here, master, what are your commands?” “Go,” said Alla ad Deen, “fetch the vizier’s son out of the place where you left him, put him into his bed again, and carry it to the sultan’s palace, from whence you brought it.”  The genie presently returned with the vizier’s son.  Alla ad Deen took up his sabre, the bridegroom was laid by the princess, and in an instant the nuptial-bed was transported into the same chamber of the palace from whence it had been brought.  But we must observe, that all this time the genie never was visible either to the princess or the grand vizier’s son.  His hideous form would have made them die with fear.  Neither did they hear any thing of the discourse between Alla ad Deen and him; they only perceived the motion of the bed, and their transportation from one place to another; which we may well imagine was enough to alarm them.

As soon as the genie had set down the nuptial bed in its proper place, the sultan tapped at the door to wish her good morning.  The grand vizier’s son, who was almost perished with cold, by standing in his thin under garment all night, and had not had time to warm himself in bed, no sooner heard the knocking at the door than he got out of bed, and ran into the robing-chamber, where he had undressed himself the night before.

The sultan having opened the door, went to the bed-side, kissed the princess between the eyes, according to custom, wishing her a good morrow, but was extremely surprised to see her so melancholy.  She only cast at him a sorrowful look, expressive of great affliction or great dissatisfaction.  He said a few words to her; but finding that he could not get a word from her, attributed it to her modesty, and retired.  Nevertheless, he suspected that there was something extraordinary in this silence, and thereupon went immediately to the sultaness’s apartment, told her in what a state he had found the princess, and how she had received him.  “Sir,” said the sultaness, “your majesty ought not to be surprised at this behaviour; new-married people have naturally a reserve about them; two or three days hence she will receive the sultan her father as she ought:  but I will go and see her,” added she; “I am much deceived if she receives me in the same manner.”

As soon as the sultaness was dressed, she went to the princess’s apartment, who was still in bed.  She undrew the curtain, wished her good morrow, and kissed her.  But how great was her surprise when she returned no answer; and looking more attentively at her, she perceived her to be much dejected, which made her judge that something had happened, which she did not understand “How comes it, child,” said the sultaness, “that you do not return my caresses?  Ought you to treat your mother after this manner?  I am induced to believe something extraordinary has happened; come, tell me freely, and leave me no longer in a painful suspense.”

At last the princess broke silence with a deep sigh, and said, “Alas! most honoured mother, forgive me if I have failed in the respect I owe you.  My mind is so full of the extraordinary circumstances which have befallen me this night, that I have not yet recovered my amazement and alarm.”  She then told her, how the instant after she and her husband were together, the bed was transported into a dark dirty room, where he was taken from her and carried away, but where she knew not; and that she was left alone with a young man, who, after he had said something to her, which her fright did not suffer her to hear, laid himself in her husband’s place, but first put his sabre between them; and in the morning her husband was brought to her again, when the bed was transported back to her own chamber in an instant.  “All this,” said she, “was but just done, when the sultan my father came into my chamber.  I was so overwhelmed with grief, that I had not power to speak, and am afraid that he is offended at the manner in which I received the honour he did me; but I hope he will forgive me, when he knows my melancholy adventure, and the miserable state I am in at present.”

The sultaness heard all the princess told her very patiently, but would not believe it.  “You did well, child,” said she, “not to speak of this to your father:  take care not to mention it to anybody; for you will certainly be thought mad if you talk in this manner.”  “Madam,” replied the princess, “I can assure you I am in my right senses; ask my husband, and he will tell you the same circumstances.”  “I will,” said the sultaness, “but if he should talk in the same manner, I shall not be better persuaded of the truth.  Come, rise, and throw off this idle fancy; it will be a strange event, if all the feasts and rejoicings in the kingdom should be interrupted by such a vision.  Do not you hear the trumpets of congratulation, and concerts of the finest music?  Cannot these inspire you with joy and pleasure, and make you forget the fancies of an imagination disturbed by what can have been only a dream?” At the same time the sultaness called the princess’s women, and after she had seen her get up, and begin dressing, went to the sultan’s apartment, told him that her daughter had got some odd notions in her head, but that there was nothing in them but idle phantasy.

She then sent for the vizier’s son, to know of him something of what the princess had told her; but he, thinking himself highly honoured to be allied to the sultan, and not willing to lose the princess, denied what had happened.  “That is enough,” answered the sultaness, “I ask no more, I see you are wiser than my daughter.”

The rejoicings lasted all that day in the palace, and the sultaness, who never left the princess, forgot nothing to divert her, and induce her to take part in the various diversions and shows; but she was so struck with the idea of what had happened to her in the night, that it was easy to see her thoughts were entirely taken up with it.  Neither was the grand vizier’s son in less tribulation, though his ambition made him disguise his feelings so well, that nobody doubted of his being a happy bridegroom.

Alla ad Deen, who was well acquainted with what passed in the palace, was sure the new-married couple were to sleep together again, notwithstanding the troublesome adventure of the night before; and therefore, having as great an inclination to disturb them, had recourse to his lamp, and when the genie appeared, and offered his service, he said to him, “The grand vizier’s son and the princess Buddir al Buddoor are to sleep together again to-night:  go, and as soon as they are in bed, bring the bed hither, as thou didst yesterday.”

The genie obeyed as faithfully and exactly as the day before; the grand vizier’s son passed the night as coldly and disagreeably, and the princess had the mortification again to have Alla ad Deen for her bed-fellow, with the sabre between them.  The genie, according to orders, came the next morning, brought the bridegroom, laid him by his bride, and then carried the bed and new-married couple back again to the palace.

The sultan, after the reception the princess had given him, was very anxious to know how she had passed the second night, and therefore went into her chamber as early as the morning before.  The grand vizier’s son, more ashamed and mortified with the ill success of this last night, no sooner heard him coming, than he jumped out of bed, and ran hastily into the robing-chamber.  The sultan went to the princess’s bed-side, and after the same caresses he had given her the former morning, bade her good morrow.  “Well daughter,” said he, “are you in a better humour than yesterday?” Still the princess was silent, and the sultan perceiving her to be more troubled, and in greater confusion than before, doubted not that something very extraordinary was the cause; but provoked that his daughter should conceal it, he said to her in a rage, with his sabre in his hand, “Daughter, tell me what is the matter, or I will cut off your head immediately.”

The princess, more frightened at the menaces and tone of the enraged sultan than at the sight of the drawn sabre, at last broke silence, and said with tears in her eyes, “My dear father and sultan, I ask your majesty’s pardon if I have offended you, and hope, that out of your goodness and clemency you will have compassion on me, when I shall have told you in what a miserable condition I have spent this last night, as well as the preceding.”

After this preamble, which appeased and affected the sultan, she told him what had happened to her in so moving a manner, that he, who loved her tenderly, was most sensibly grieved.  She added, “If your majesty doubts the truth of this account, you may inform yourself from my husband, who, I am persuaded, will tell you the same thing.”

The sultan immediately felt all the extreme uneasiness so surprising an adventure must have given the princess.  “Daughter,” said he, “you are much to blame for not telling me this yesterday, since it concerns me as much as yourself.  I did not marry you with an intention to make you miserable, but that you might enjoy all the happiness you deserve and might hope for from a husband who to me seemed agreeable to you.  Efface all these troublesome ideas from your memory; I will take care that you shall have no more disagreeable and insupportable nights.”

As soon as the sultan had returned to his own apartment, he sent for the grand vizier:  “Vizier,” said he, “have you seen your son, and has he told you anything?” The vizier replied, “No.”  The sultan related all the circumstances of which the princess had informed him, and afterwards said, “I do not doubt but that my daughter has told me the truth; but nevertheless I should be glad to have it confirmed by your son, therefore go and ask him how it was.”

The grand vizier went immediately to his son, communicated what the sultan had told him, and enjoined him to conceal nothing, but to relate the whole truth.  “I will disguise nothing from you, father,” replied the son, “for indeed all that the princess has stated is true; but what relates particularly to myself she knows nothing of.  Since my marriage, I have passed two nights beyond imagination or expression disagreeable, not to mention the fright I was in at finding my bed lifted four times, transported from one place to another, without being able to guess how it was done.  You may judge of the miserable condition I was in, passing two whole nights in nothing but my under vestments, standing in a kind of closet, unable to stir out of the place or to make the least movement, though I could not perceive any obstacle to prevent me.  Yet I must tell you, that all this ill usage does not in the least lessen those sentiments of love, respect, and gratitude I entertain for the princess, and of which she is so deserving; but I must confess, that notwithstanding all the honour and splendour that attends marrying my sovereign’s daughter, I would much rather die, than continue in so exalted an alliance if I must undergo nightly much longer what I have already endured.  I do not doubt but that the princess entertains the same sentiments, and that she will readily agree to a separation, which is so necessary both for her repose and mine.  Therefore, father, I beg, by the same tenderness which led you to procure me so great an honour, to obtain the sultan’s consent that our marriage may be declared null and void.”

Notwithstanding the grand vizier’s ambition to have his son allied to the sultan, the firm resolution he saw he had formed to be separated from the princess made him not think it proper to propose to him to have patience for a few days, to see if this disappointment would not have an end; but he left him to give an account of what he had related to him, and without waiting till the sultan himself, whom he found disposed to it, spoke of setting aside the marriage, he begged of him to give his son leave to retire from the palace, alleging it was not just that the princess should be a moment longer exposed to so terrible a persecution upon his son’s account.

The grand vizier found no great difficulty to obtain what he asked, as the sultan had determined already; orders were given to put a stop to all rejoicings in the palace and town, and expresses dispatched to all parts of his dominions to countermand them; and, in a short time, all rejoicings ceased.

This sudden and unexpected change gave rise both in the city and kingdom to various speculations and inquiries; but no other account could be given of it, except that both the vizier and his son went out of the palace very much dejected.  Nobody but Alla ad Deen knew the secret.  He rejoiced within himself at the happy success procured by his lamp, which now he had no more occasion to rub, to produce the genie to prevent the consummation of the marriage, as he had certain information it was broken off, and that his rival had left the palace.  Neither the sultan nor the grand vizier, who had forgotten Alla ad Deen and his request, had the least thought that he had any concern in the enchantment which caused the dissolution of the marriage.

Alla ad Deen waited till the three months were completed, which the sultan had appointed for the consummation of the marriage between the princess Buddir al Buddoor and himself; and the next day sent his mother to the palace, to remind the sultan of his promise.

Alla ad Deen’s mother went to the palace, and stood in the same place as before in the hall of audience.  The sultan no sooner cast his eyes upon her than he knew her again, remembered her business, and how long he had put her off:  therefore when the grand vizier was beginning to make his report, the sultan interrupted him, and said, “Vizier, I see the good woman who made me the present of jewels some months ago; forbear your report, till I have heard what she has to say.”  The vizier looking about the divan, perceived the tailor’s widow, and sent the chief of the mace-bearers to conduct her to the sultan.

Alla ad Deen’s mother came to the foot of the throne, prostrated herself as usual, and when she rose, the sultan asked her what she would have.  “Sir,” said she, “I come to represent to your majesty, in the name of my son Alla ad Deen, that the three months, at the end of which you ordered me to come again, are expired; and to beg you to remember your promise.”

The sultan, when he had fixed a time to answer the request of this good woman, little thought of hearing any more of a marriage, which he imagined must be very disagreeable to the princess, when he considered the meanness and poverty of her dress and appearance; but this summons for him to fulfill his promise was somewhat embarrassing; he declined giving an answer till he had consulted his vizier, and signified to trim the little inclination he had to conclude a match for his daughter with a stranger, whose rank he supposed to be very mean.

The grand vizier freely told the sultan his thoughts, and said to him, “In my opinion, sir, there is an infallible way for your majesty to avoid a match so disproportionable, without giving Alla ad Deen, were he known to your majesty, any cause of complaint; which is, to set so high a price upon the princess, that, however rich he may be, he cannot comply with.  This is the only evasion to make him desist from so bold, not to say rash, an undertaking, which he never weighed before he engaged in it.”

The sultan, approving of the grand vizier’s advice, turned to the tailor’s widow, and said to her, “Good woman, it is true sultans ought to abide by their word, and I am ready to keep mine, by making your son happy in marriage with the princess my daughter.  But as I cannot marry her without some further valuable consideration from your son, you may tell him, I will fulfill my promise as soon as he shall send me forty trays of massive gold, full of the same sort of jewels you have already made me a present of, and carried by the like number of black slaves, who shall be led by as many young and handsome white slaves, all dressed magnificently.  On these conditions I am ready to bestow the princess my daughter upon him; therefore, good woman, go and tell him so, and I will wait till you bring me his answer.”

Alla ad Deen’s mother prostrated herself a second time before the sultan’s throne, and retired.  In her way home, she laughed within herself at her son’s foolish imagination.  “Where,” says she, “can he get so many large gold trays, and such precious stones to fill them?  Must he go again to that subterraneous abode, the entrance into which is stopped up, and gather them off the trees?  But where will he get so many such slaves as the sultan requires?  It is altogether out of his power, and I believe he will not be much pleased with my embassy this time.”  When she came home, full of these thoughts, she said to her son, “Indeed, child, I would not have you think any farther of your marriage with the princess.  The sultan received me very kindly, and I believe he was well inclined to you; but if I am not much deceived the grand vizier has made him change his mind, as you will guess from what I have to tell you.  After I had represented to his majesty that the three months were expired, and begged of him to remember his promise, I observed that he whispered with his grand vizier before he gave me his answer.”  She then gave her son an exact account of what the sultan had said to her, and the conditions on which he consented to the match.  Afterwards she said to him, “The sultan expects your answer immediately; but,” continued she, laughing, “I believe he may wait long enough.”

“Not so long, mother, as you imagine,” replied Alla ad Deen:  “the sultan is mistaken, if he thinks by this exorbitant demand to prevent my entertaining thoughts of the princess.  I expected greater difficulties, and that he would have set a higher price upon her incomparable charms.  I am very well pleased; his demand is but a trifle to what I could have done for her.  But while I think of satisfying his request, go and get something for our dinner, and leave the rest to me.”

As soon as his mother was gone out to market, Alla ad Deen took the lamp, and rubbing it, the genie appeared, and offered his service as usual.  “The sultan,” said Alla ad Deen to him, “gives me the princess his daughter in marriage; but demands first forty large trays of massive gold, full of the fruits of the garden from whence I took this lamp; and these he expects to have carried by as many black slaves, each preceded by a young handsome white slave, richly clothed.  Go, and fetch me this present as soon as possible, that I may send it to him before the divan breaks up.”

The genie told him his command should be immediately obeyed, and disappeared.

In a little time afterwards the genie returned with forty black slaves, each bearing on his head a heavy tray of pure gold, full of pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and every sort of precious stones, all larger and more beautiful than those presented to the sultan.  Each tray was covered with silver tissue, embroidered with flowers of gold; these, together with the white slaves, quite filled the house, which was but a small one, the little court before it, and a small garden behind.  The genie asked if he had any other commands, and Alla ad Deen telling him that he wanted nothing farther, he disappeared.

When Alla ad Deen’s mother came from market, she was much surprised to see so many people and such vast riches.  As soon as she had laid down her provisions, she was going to pull off her veil; but he prevented her, and said, “Mother, let us lose no time; before the sultan and the divan rise, I would have you return to the palace with this present as the dowry demanded for the princess, that he may judge by my diligence and exactness of the ardent and sincere desire I have to procure myself the honour of this alliance.”  Without waiting for his mother’s reply, Alla ad Deen opened the street-door, and made the slaves walk out; each white slave followed by a black with a tray upon his head.  When they were all out, the mother followed the last black slave; he shut the door, and then retired to his chamber, full of hopes that the sultan, after this present, which was such as he required, would receive him as his son-in-law.

The first white slave who went out made all the people who were going by stop; and before they were all clear of the house, the streets were crowded with spectators, who ran to see so extraordinary and magnificent a procession.  The dress of each slave was so rich, both for the stuff and the jewels, that those who were dealers in them valued each at no less than a million of money; besides the neatness and propriety of the dress, the noble air, fine shape and proportion of each slave were unparalleled; their grave walk at an equal distance from each other, the lustre of the jewels curiously set in their girdles of gold, in beautiful symmetry, and the egrets of precious stones in their turbans, which were of an unusual but elegant taste, put the spectators into such great admiration, that they could not avoid gazing at them, and following them with their eyes as far as possible; but the streets were so crowded with people, that none could move out of the spot they stood on.  As they had to pass through several streets to the palace, a great part of the city had an opportunity of seeing them.  As soon as the first of these slaves arrived at the palace gate, the porters formed themselves into order, taking him for a prince from the richness and magnificence of his habit, and were going to kiss the hem of his garment; but the slave, who was instructed by the genie, prevented them, and said, “We are only slaves, our master will appear at a proper time.”

The first slave, followed by the rest, advanced into the second court, which was very spacious, and in which the sultan’s household was ranged during the sitting of the divan.  The magnificence of the officers, who stood at the head of their troops, was considerably eclipsed by the slaves who bore Alla ad Deen’s present, of which they themselves made a part.  Nothing was ever seen so beautiful and brilliant in the sultan’s palace; and all the lustre of the lords of his court was not to be compared to them.

As the sultan, who had been informed of their march, and approach to the palace, had given orders for them to be admitted, they met with no obstacle, but went into the divan in regular order, one part filing to the right, and the other to the left.  After they were all entered, and had formed a semicircle before the sultan’s throne, the black slaves laid the golden trays on the carpet, prostrated themselves, touching the carpet with their foreheads, and at the same time the white slaves did the same.  When they rose, the black slaves uncovered the trays, and then all stood with their arms crossed over their breasts.

In the meantime Alla ad Deen’s mother advanced to the foot of the throne, and having paid her respects, said to the sultan, “Sir, my son is sensible this present, which he has sent your majesty, is much below the princess Buddir al Buddoor’s worth; but hopes, nevertheless, that your majesty will accept of it, and make it agreeable to the princess, and with the greater confidence since he has endeavoured to conform to the conditions you were pleased to impose.”

The sultan was not able to give the least attention to this compliment.  The moment he cast his eyes on the forty trays, full of the most precious, brilliant, and beautiful jewels he had ever seen, and the fourscore slaves, who appeared by the elegance of their persons, and the richness and magnificence of their dress, like so many princes, he was so struck, that he could not recover from his admiration.  Instead of answering the compliment of Alla ad Deen’s mother, he addressed himself to the grand vizier, who could not any more than the sultan comprehend from whence such a profusion of richness could come.  “Well, vizier,” said he aloud, “who do you think it can be that has sent me so extraordinary a present, and neither of us know?  Do you think him worthy of the princess Buddir al Buddoor, my daughter?”

The vizier, notwithstanding his envy and grief to see a stranger preferred to be the sultan’s son-in-law before his son, durst not disguise his sentiments.  It was too visible that Alla ad Deen’s present was more than sufficient to merit his being received into royal alliance; therefore, consulting his master’s feelings, he returned this answer:  “I am so far from having any thoughts that the person who has made your majesty so noble a present is unworthy of the honour you would do him, that I should say he deserved much more, if I was not persuaded that the greatest treasure in the world ought not to be put in competition with the princess your majesty’s daughter.”  This speech was applauded by all the lords who were then in council.

The sultan made no longer hesitation, nor thought of informing himself whether Alla ad Deen was endowed with all the qualifications requisite in one who aspired to be his son-in-law.  The sight alone of such immense riches, and Alla ad Deen’s quickness in satisfying his demand, without starting the least difficulty at the exorbitant conditions he had imposed, easily persuaded him, that he could want nothing to render him accomplished, and such as he desired.  Therefore, to send Alla ad Deen’s mother back with all the satisfaction she could desire, he said to her, “My good lady, go and tell your son that I wait with open arms to embrace him, and the more haste he makes to come and receive the princess my daughter from my hands, the greater pleasure he will do me.”

As soon as the tailor’s widow had retired, overjoyed as a woman in her condition must have been, to see her son raised beyond all expectations to such exalted fortune, the sultan put an end to the audience; and rising from his throne, ordered that the princess’s eunuchs should come and carry the trays into their mistress’s apartment, whither he went himself to examine them with her at his leisure.  The fourscore slaves were conducted in to the palace; and the sultan, telling the princess of their magnificent appearance, ordered them to be brought before her apartment, that she might see through the lattices he had not exaggerated in his account of them.

In the meantime Alla ad Deen’s mother got home, and shewed in her air and countenance the good news she brought her son “My son,” said she to him, “you have now all the reason in the world to be pleased:  you are, contrary to my expectations, arrived at the height of your desires.  Not to keep you too long in suspense, the sultan, with the approbation of the whole court, has declared that you are worthy to possess the princess Buddir al Buddoor, waits to embrace you and conclude your marriage; therefore, you must think of making some preparations for your interview, which may answer the high opinion he has formed of your person; and after the wonders I have seen you do, I am persuaded nothing can be wanting.  But I must not forget to tell you the sultan waits for you with great impatience, therefore lose no time in paying your respects.”

Alla ad Deen, enraptured with this news, and full of the object which possessed his soul, made his mother very little reply, but retired to his chamber.  There, after he had rubbed his lamp, which had never failed him in whatever he wished for, the obedient genie appeared.  “Genie,” said Alla ad Deen, “I want to bathe immediately, and you must afterwards provide me the richest and most magnificent habit ever worn by a monarch.”  No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the genie rendered him, as well as himself, invisible, and transported him into a hummum of the finest marble of all sorts of colours; where he was undressed, without seeing by whom, in a magnificent and spacious hall.  From the hall he was led to the bath, which was of a moderate heat, and he was there rubbed and washed with various scented waters.  After he had passed through several degrees of heat, he came out, quite a different man from what he was before.  His skin was clear white and red, his body lightsome and free; and when he returned into the hall, he found, instead of his own, a suit, the magnificence of which astonished him.  The genie helped him to dress, and when he had done, transported him back to his own chamber, where he asked him if he had any other commands.  “Yes,” answered Alla ad Deen, “I expect you to bring me as soon as possible a charger, that surpasses in beauty and goodness the best in the sultan’s stables, with a saddle, bridle, and other caparisons worth a million of money.  I want also twenty slaves, as richly clothed as those who carried the present to the sultan, to walk by my side and follow me, and twenty more to go before me in two ranks.  Besides these, bring my mother six women slaves to attend her, as richly dressed at least as any of the princess Buddir al Buddoor’s, each carrying a complete dress fit for any sultaness.  I want also ten thousand pieces of gold in ten purses; go, and make haste.”

As soon as Alla ad Deen had given these orders, the genie disappeared, but presently returned with the horse, the forty slaves, ten of whom carried each a purse containing ten thousand pieces of gold, and six women slaves, each carrying on her head a different dress for Alla ad Deen’s mother, wrapped up in a piece of silver tissue, and presented them all to Alla ad Deen.

Of the ten purses Alla ad Deen took four, which he gave to his mother, telling her, those were to supply her with necessaries; the other six he left in the hands of the slaves who brought them, with an order to throw them by handfuls among the people as they went to the sultan’s palace.  The six slaves who carried the purses he ordered likewise to march before him, three on the right hand and three on the left.  Afterwards he presented the six women slaves to his mother, telling her they were her slaves, and that the dresses they had brought were for her use.

When Alla ad Deen had thus settled matters, he told the genie he would call for him when he wanted him, and thereupon the genie disappeared.  Alla ad Deen’s thoughts now were only upon answering, as soon as possible, the desire the sultan had shown to see him.  He dispatched one of the forty slaves to the palace, with an order to address himself to the chief of the porters, to know when he might have the honour to come and throw himself at the sultan’s feet.  The slave soon acquitted himself of his commission, and brought for answer, that the sultan waited for him with impatience.

Alla ad Deen immediately mounted his charger, and began his march, in the order we have already described; and though he never was on horseback before, appeared with such extraordinary grace, that the most experienced horseman would not have taken him for a novice.  The streets through which he was to pass were almost instantly filled with an innumerable concourse of people, who made the air echo with acclamations, especially every time the six slaves who carried the purses threw handfuls of gold among the populace.  Neither did these acclamations and shouts of joy come from those alone who scrambled for the money, but from a superior rank of people, who could not forbear applauding Alla ad Deen’s generosity.  Not only those who knew him when he played in the streets like a vagabond did not recollect him, but those who saw him but a little while before hardly recognised him, so much were his features altered:  such were the effects of the lamp, as to procure by degrees to those who possessed it perfections suitable to the rank to which the right use of it advanced them.  Much more attention was paid to Alla ad Deen’s person than to the pomp and magnificence of his attendants, as a similar show had been seen the day before when the slaves walked in procession with the present to the sultan.  Nevertheless the horse was much admired by good judges, who knew how to discern his beauties, without being dazzled by the jewels and richness of the furniture.  When the report was everywhere spread, that the sultan was going to give the princess in marriage to Alla ad Deen, nobody regarded his birth, nor envied his good fortune, so worthy he seemed of it in the public opinion.

When he arrived at the palace, everything was prepared for his reception; and when he came to the gate of the second court, he would have alighted from his horse, agreeably to the custom observed by the grand vizier, the commander in chief of the empire, and governors of provinces of the first rank; but the chief of the mace-bearers who waited on him by the sultan’s order prevented him, and attended him to the grand hall of audience, where he helped him to dismount; though Alla ad Deen endeavoured to prevent him, but could not prevail.  The officers formed themselves into two ranks at the entrance of the hall.  The chief put Alla ad Deen on his right hand, and through the midst of them led him to the sultan’s throne.

As soon as the sultan perceived Alla ad Deen, he was no less surprised to see him more richly and magnificently habited than ever he had been himself, than struck at his good mien, fine shape, and a certain air of unexpected dignity, very different from the meanness of his mother’s late appearance.

But, notwithstanding, his amazement and surprise did not hinder him from rising off his throne, and descending two or three steps, quick enough to prevent Alla ad Deen’s throwing himself at his feet.  He embraced him with all the demonstrations of joy at his arrival.  After this civility Alla ad Deen would have thrown himself at his feet again; but he held him fast by the hand, and obliged him to sit close to the throne.

Alla ad Deen then addressed the sultan, saying, “I receive the honour which your majesty out of your great condescension is pleased to confer; but permit me to assure you, that I have not forgotten that I am your slave; that I know the greatness of your power, and that I am not in sensible how much my birth is below the splendour and lustre of the high rank to which I am raised.  If any way,” continued he, “I could have merited so favourable a reception, I confess I owe it merely to the boldness which chance inspired in me to raise my eyes, thoughts, and desires to the divine princess, who is the object of my wishes.  I ask your majesty’s pardon for my rashness, but I cannot dissemble, that I should die with grief were I to lose my hopes of seeing them accomplished.”

“My son,” answered the sultan, embracing him a second time, “you would wrong me to doubt for a moment of my sincerity:  your life from this moment is too dear to me not to preserve it, by presenting you with the remedy which is at my disposal.  I prefer the pleasure of seeing and hearing you before all your treasure added to my own.”

After these words, the sultan gave a signal, and immediately the air echoed with the sound of trumpets, hautboys, and other musical instruments:  and at the same time the sultan led Alla ad Deen into a magnificent hall, where was laid out a most splendid collation.  The sultan and Alla ad Deen ate by themselves, while the grand vizier and the great lords of the court, according to their dignity and rank, sat at different tables.  The conversation turned on different subjects; but all the while the sultan took so much pleasure in looking at his intended son-in-law, that he hardly ever took his eyes off him; and throughout the whole of their conversation Alla ad Deen showed so much good sense, as confirmed the sultan in the high opinion he had formed of him.

After the feast, the sultan sent for the chief judge of his capital, and ordered him to draw up immediately a contract of marriage between the princess Buddir al Buddoor his daughter and Alla ad Deen.  In the mean time the sultan and he entered into another conversation on various subjects, in the presence of the grand vizier and the lords of the court, who all admired the solidity of his wit, the great ease and freedom wherewith he delivered himself, the justness of his remarks, and his energy in expressing them.

When the judge had drawn up the contract in all the requisite forms, the sultan asked Alla ad Deen if he would stay in the palace, and solemnize the ceremonies of marriage that day.  To which he answered, “Sir, though great is my impatience to enjoy your majesty’s goodness, yet I beg of you to give me leave to defer it till I have built a palace fit to receive the princess; therefore I petition you to grant me a convenient spot of ground near your palace, that I may the more frequently pay my respects, and I will take care to have it finished with all diligence.”  “Son,” said the sultan, “take what ground you think proper, there is space enough on every quarter round my palace; but consider, I cannot see you too soon united with my daughter, which alone is wanting to complete my happiness.”  After these words he embraced Alla ad Deen again, who took his leave with as much politeness as if he had been bred up and had always lived at court.

Alla ad Deen returned home in the order he had come, amidst the acclamations of the people, who wished him all happiness and prosperity.  As soon as he dismounted, he retired to his own chamber, took the lamp, and called the genie as before, who in the usual manner made him a tender of his service.  “Genie,” said Alla ad Deen, “I have every reason to commend your exactness in executing hitherto punctually whatever I have demanded; but now if you have any regard for the lamp your protector, you must show, if possible, more zeal and diligence than ever.  I would have you build me, as soon as you can, a palace opposite, but at a proper distance from the sultan’s, fit to receive my spouse the princess Buddir al Buddoor.  I leave the choice of the materials to you, that is to say, porphyry, jasper, agate, lapis lazuli, or the finest marble of various colours, and also the architecture of the building.  But I expect that on the terraced roof of this palace you will build me a large hall crowned with a dome, and having four equal fronts; and that instead of layers of bricks, the walls be formed of massive gold and silver, laid alternately; that each front shall contain six windows, the lattices of all which, except one, which must be left unfinished, shall be so enriched in the most tasteful workmanship, with diamonds, rubies, and emeralds, that they shall exceed every thing of the kind ever seen in the world.  I would have an inner and outer court in front of the palace, and a spacious garden; but above all things, take care that there be laid in a place which you shall point out to me a treasure of gold and silver coin.  Besides, the edifice must be well provided with kitchens and offices, storehouses, and rooms to keep choice furniture in, for every season of the year.  I must have stables full of the finest horses, with their equerries and grooms, and hunting equipage.  There must be officers to attend the kitchens and offices, and women slaves to wait on the princess.  You understand what I mean; therefore go about it, and come and tell me when all is finished.”

By the time Alla ad Deen had instructed the genie resetting the building of his palace, the sun was set.  The next morning, before break of day, our bridegroom, whose love for the princess would not let him sleep, was up, when the genie presented himself, and said, “Sir, your palace is finished, come and see how you like it.”  Alla ad Deen had no sooner signified his consent, than the genie transported him thither in an instant, and he found it so much beyond his expectation, that he could not enough admire it.  The genie led him through all the apartments, where he met with nothing but what was rich and magnificent, with officers and slaves, all habited according to their rank and the services to which they were appointed.  The genie then showed him the treasury, which was opened by a treasurer, where Alla ad Deen saw heaps of purses, of different sizes, piled up to the top of the ceiling, and disposed in most excellent order.  The genie assured him of the treasurer’s fidelity, and thence led him to the stables, where he showed him some of the finest horses in the world, and the grooms busy in dressing them; from thence they went to the store-houses, which were filled with all things necessary, both for food and ornament.

When Alla ad Deen had examined the palace from top to bottom, and particularly the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, and found it much beyond whatever he could have imagined, he said, “Genie, no one can be better satisfied than I am; and indeed I should be much to blame if I found any fault.  There is only one thing wanting which I forgot to mention; that is, to lay from the sultan’s palace to the door of the apartment designed for the princess, a carpet of fine velvet for her to walk upon.”  The genie immediately disappeared, and Alla ad Deen saw what he desired executed in an instant.  The genie then returned, and carried him home before the gates of the sultan’s palace were opened.

When the porters, who had always been used to an open prospect, came to open the gates, they were amazed to find it obstructed, and to see a carpet of velvet spread from the grand entrance.  They did not immediately look how far it extended; but when they could discern Alla ad Deen’s palace distinctly, their surprise was increased.  The news of so extraordinary a wonder was presently spread through the palace.  The grand vizier, who arrived soon after the gates were open, being no less amazed than others at this novelty, ran and acquainted the sultan, but endeavoured to make him believe it to be all enchantment.  “Vizier,” replied the sultan, “why will you have it to be enchantment?  You know as well as I that it must be Alla ad Deen’s palace, which I gave him leave to build, for the reception of my daughter.  After the proof we have had of his riches, can we think it strange, that he should raise a palace in so short a time?  He wished to surprise us, and let us see what wonders are to be done with money in only one night.  Confess sincerely that the enchantment you talk of proceeds from a little envy on account of your son’s disappointment.”  The hour of going to council put an end to the conversation.

When Alla ad Deen had been conveyed home, and had dismissed the genie, he found his mother up, and dressing herself in one of those suits which had been brought her.  By the time the sultan rose from the council, Alla ad Deen had prepared his mother to go to the palace with her slaves, and desired her, if she saw the sultan, to tell him she should do herself the honour to attend the princess towards evening to her palace.  Accordingly she went; but though she and the women slaves who followed her were all dressed like sultanesses, yet the crowd was not near so great as the preceding day, because they were all veiled, and had each an upper garment on agreeable to the richness and magnificence of their habits.  Alla ad Deen mounted his horse, and took leave of his paternal house forever, taking care not to forget his wonderful lamp, by the assistance of which he had reaped such advantages, and arrived at the utmost height of his wishes, and went to the palace in the same pomp as the day before.

As soon as the porters of the sultan’s palace saw Alla ad Deen’s mother, they went and informed the sultan, who immediately ordered the bands of trumpets, cymbals, drums, fifes and hautboys, placed in different parts of the palace, to play, so that the air resounded with concerts which inspired the whole city with joy:  the merchants began to adorn their shops and houses with fine carpets and silks, and to prepare illuminations against night.  The artisans of every description left their work, and the populace repaired to the great space between the royal palace and that of Alla ad Deen; which last drew all their attention, not only because it was new to them, but because there was no comparison between the two buildings.  But their amazement was to comprehend by what unheard-of miracle so magnificent a palace could have been so soon erected, it being apparent to all that there were no prepared materials, or any foundations laid the day before.

Alla ad Deen’s mother was received in the palace with honour, and introduced into the princess Buddir al Buddoor’s apartment by the chief of the eunuchs.  As soon as the princess saw her, she rose, saluted, and desired her to sit down on a sofa; and while her women finished dressing and adorning her with the jewels which Alla ad Deen had presented to her, a collation was served up.  At the same time the sultan, who wished to be as much with his daughter as possible before he parted with her, came in and paid the old lady great respect.  Alla ad Deen’s mother had talked to the sultan in public, but he had never seen her with her veil off, as she was then; and though she was somewhat advanced in years, she had the remains of a good face, which showed what she had been in her youth.  The sultan, who had always seen her dressed very meanly, not to say poorly, was surprised to find her as richly and magnificently attired as the princess his daughter.  This made him think Alla ad Deen equally prudent and wise in whatever he undertook.

When it was night, the princess took her leave of the sultan her father:  their adieus were tender, and accompanied with tears.  They embraced each other several times, and at last the princess left her own apartment for Alla ad Deen’s palace, with his mother on her left hand carried in a superb litter, followed by a hundred women slaves, dressed with surprising magnificence.  All the bands of music, which had played from the time Alla ad Deen’s mother arrived, being joined together, led the procession, followed by a hundred state ushers, and the like number of black eunuchs, in two files, with their officers at their head.  Four hundred of the sultan’s young pages carried flambeaux on each side, which, together with the illuminations of the sultan’s and Alla ad Deen’s palaces, made it as light as day.

In this order the princess proceeded in her litter on the carpet, which was spread from the sultan’s palace, preceded by bands of musicians, who, as they advanced, joining with those on the terraces of Alla ad Deen’s palace, formed a concert, which increased the joyful sensations not only of the crowd assembled in the great square, but of the metropolis and its environs.

At length the princess arrived at the new palace.  Alla ad Deen ran with all imaginable joy to receive her at the grand entrance.  His mother had taken care to point him out to the princess, in the midst of the officers who surrounded him, and she was charmed with his person.  “Adorable princess,” said Alla ad Deen, accosting her, and saluting her respectfully, as soon as she had entered her apartment, “if I have the misfortune to have displeased you by my boldness in aspiring to the possession of so lovely a princess, and my sultan’s daughter, I must tell you, that you ought to blame your bright eyes and charms, not me.”  “Prince (as I may now call you),” answered the princess, “I am obedient to the will of my father; and it is enough for me to have seen you to tell you that I obey without reluctance.”

Alla ad Deen, charmed with so agreeable and satisfactory an answer, would not keep the princess standing; but took her by the hand, which he kissed with the greatest demonstration of joy, and led her into a large hall, illuminated with an infinite number of wax candles, where, by the care of the genie, a noble feast was served up.  The dishes were of massive gold, and contained the most delicate viands.  The vases, basins, and goblets, were gold also, and of exquisite workmanship, and all the other ornaments and embellishments of the hall were answerable to this display.  The princess, dazzled to see so much riches collected in one place, said to Alla ad Deen, “I thought, prince, that nothing in the world was so beautiful as the sultan my father’s palace, but the sight of this hall alone is sufficient to show I was deceived.”

Alla ad Deen led the princess to the place appointed for her, and as soon as she and his mother were seated, a band of the most harmonious instruments, accompanied with the voices of beautiful ladies, began a concert, which lasted without intermission to the end of the repast.  The princess was so charmed, that she declared she had never heard anything like it in the sultan her father’s court; but she knew not that these musicians were fairies chosen by the genie, the slave of the lamp.

When the supper was ended, there entered a company of female dancers, who performed, according to the custom of the country, several figure dances, singing at the same time verses in praise of the bride and bridegroom.  About midnight Alla ad Deen’s mother conducted the bride to the nuptial apartment, and he soon after retired.

The next morning when Alla ad Deen left the bridal chamber, his attendants presented themselves to dress him, and brought him another habit as rich and magnificent as that worn the day before.  He then ordered one of the horses appointed for his use to be got ready, mounted him, and went in the midst of a large troop of slaves to the sultan’s palace.  The sultan received him with the same honours as before, embraced him, placed him on the throne near him, and ordered a collation.  Alla ad Deen said, “I beg your majesty will dispense with my eating with you to-day; I came to entreat you to take a repast in the princess’s palace, attended by your grand vizier, and all the lords of your court.”  The sultan consented with pleasure, rose up immediately, and, preceded by the principal officers of his palace, and followed by all the great lords of his court, accompanied Alla ad Deen.

The nearer the sultan approached Alla ad Deen’s palace, the more he was struck with its beauty, but was much more amazed when he entered it; and could not forbear breaking out into exclamations of approbation.  But when he came into the hall, and cast his eyes on the windows, enriched with diamonds, rubies, emeralds, all large perfect stones, he was so much surprised, that he remained some time motionless.  After he recovered himself, he said to his vizier, “Is it possible that there should be such a stately palace so near my own, and I be an utter stranger to it till now?” “Sir,” replied the grand vizier, “your majesty may remember that the day before yesterday you gave Alla ad Deen, whom you accepted for your son-in-law, leave to build a palace opposite your own, and that very day at sunset there was no palace on this spot, but yesterday I had the honour first to tell you that the palace was built and finished.”  “I remember,” replied the sultan, “but never imagined that the palace was one of the wonders of the world; for where in all the world besides shall we find walls built of massive gold and silver, instead of brick, stone, or marble; and diamonds, rubies, and emeralds composing the windows!”

The sultan would examine and admire the beauty of all the windows, and counting them, found that there were but three-and-twenty so richly adorned, and he was greatly astonished that the twenty-fourth was left imperfect.  “Vizier,” said he, for that minister made a point of never leaving him, “I am surprised that a hall of this magnificence should be left thus imperfect.”  “Sir,” replied the grand vizier, “without doubt Alla ad Deen only wanted time to finish this window like the rest; for it is not to be supposed but that he has sufficient jewels for the purpose, or that he will not complete it the first opportunity.”

Alla ad Deen, who had left the sultan to go and give some orders, returned just as the vizier had finished his remark.  “Son,” said the sultan to him, “this hall is the most worthy of admiration of any in the world; there is only one thing that surprises me, which is to find one of the windows unfinished.  Is it from the forgetfulness or negligence of the workmen, or want of time, that they have not put the finishing stroke to so beautiful a piece of architecture?” “Sir,” answered Alla ad Deen, “it was for none of these reasons that your majesty sees it in this state.  The omission was by design, it was by my orders that the workmen left it thus, since I wished that your majesty should have the glory of finishing this hall, and of course the palace.”  “If you did it with this intention,” replied the sultan, “I take it kindly, and will give orders about it immediately.”  He accordingly sent for the most considerable jewellers and goldsmiths in his capital.

Alla ad Deen then conducted the sultan into the saloon where he had regaled his bride the preceding night.  The princess entered immediately afterwards, and received the sultan her father with an air that showed how happy she was with her marriage.  Two tables were immediately spread with the most delicious meats, all served up in gold dishes.  The sultan, princess, Alla ad Deen, his mother, and the grand vizier, sat down at the first, and all the lords of the court at the second, which was very long.  The sultan was much pleased with the cookery, and owned he had never eaten anything more excellent.  He said the same of the wines, which were delicious; but what he most of all admired, were four large sideboards, profusely furnished with large flagons, basins, and cups, all of massive gold, set with jewels.  He was besides charmed with several bands of music, which were ranged along the hall, and formed most agreeable concerts.

When the sultan rose from table, he was informed that the jewellers and goldsmiths attended; upon which he returned to the hall, and showed them the window which was unfinished.  “I sent for you,” said he, “to fit up this window in as great perfection as the rest; examine them well and make all the dispatch you can.”

The jewellers and goldsmiths examined the three-and-twenty windows with great attention, and after they had consulted together, to know what each could furnish, they returned, and presented themselves before the sultan, whose principal jeweller, undertaking to speak for the rest, said, “Sir, we are all willing to exert our utmost care and industry to obey your majesty; but among us all we cannot furnish jewels enough for so great a work.”  “I have more than are necessary,” said the sultan; “come to my palace, and you shall choose what may answer your purpose.”

When the sultan returned to his palace, he ordered his jewels to be brought out, and the jewellers took a great quantity, particularly those Alla ad Deen had made him a present of, which they soon used, without making any greet advance in their work.  They came again several times for more, and in a month’s time had not finished half their work.  In short, they used all the jewels the sultan had, and borrowed of the vizier, but yet the work was not half done.

Alla ad Deen, who knew that all the sultan’s endeavours to make this window like the rest were in vain, sent for the jewellers and goldsmiths, and not only commanded them to desist from their work, but ordered them to undo what they had begun, and to carry all their jewels back to the sultan and to the vizier.  They undid in a few hours what they had been six weeks about, and retired, leaving Alla ad Deen alone in the hall.  He took the lamp which he carried about him, rubbed it, and presently the genie appeared.  “Genie,” said Alla ad Deen, “I ordered thee to leave one of the four-and-twenty windows of this hall imperfect, and thus hast executed my commands punctually; now I would have thee make it like the rest.”  The genie immediately disappeared.  Alla ad Deen went out of the hall, and returning soon after, found the window, as he wished it to be, like the others.

In the meantime, the jewellers and goldsmiths repaired to the palace, and were introduced into the sultan’s presence; where the chief jeweller, presenting the precious stones which he had brought back, said, in the name of all the rest, “Your majesty knows how long we have been upon the work you were pleased to set us about, in which we used all imaginable industry.  It was far advanced, when prince Alla ad Deen commanded us not only to leave off, but to undo what we had already begun, and bring your majesty your jewels back.”  The sultan asked them if Alla ad Deen had given them any reason for so doing, and they answering that he had given them none, he ordered a horse to be brought, which he mounted, and rode to his son-in law’s palace, with some few attendants on foot.  When he came there, he alighted at the stair-case, which led up to the hall with the twenty-four windows, and went directly up to it, without giving previous notice to Alla ad Deen; but it happened that at that very juncture Alla ad Deen was opportunely there, and had just time to receive him at the door.

The sultan, without giving Alla ad Deen time to complain obligingly of his not having given notice, that he might have acquitted himself with the more becoming respect, said to him, “Son, I come myself to know the reason why you commanded the jewellers to desist from work, and take to pieces what they had done.”

Alla ad Deen disguised the true reason, which was, that the sultan was not rich enough in jewels to be at so great an expense, but said, “I beg of you now to see if any thing is wanting.”

The sultan went directly to the window which was left imperfect, and when he found it like the rest, fancied that he was mistaken, examined the two windows on each side, and afterwards all the four-and-twenty; but when he was convinced that the window which several workmen had been so long about was finished in so short a time, he embraced Alla ad Deen, and kissed him between his eyes.  “My son,” said he, “what a man you are to do such surprising things always in the twinkling of an eye; there is not your fellow in the world; the more I know, the more I admire you.”

Alla ad Deen received these praises from the sultan with modesty, and replied in these words:  “Sir, it is a great honour to me to deserve your majesty’s good-will and approbation, and I assure you, I shall study to deserve them more.”

The sultan returned to his palace, but would not let Alla ad Deen attend him.  When he came there, he found his grand vizier waiting, to whom he related the wonder he had witnessed, with the utmost admiration, and in such terms as left the minister no room to doubt but that the facet was as the sultan related it; though he was the more confirmed in his belief, that Alla ad Deen’s palace was the effect of enchantment, as he had told the sultan the first moment he saw it.  He was going to repeat the observation, but the sultan interrupted him, and said, “You told me so once before; I see, vizier, you have not forgotten your son’s espousals to my daughter.”  The frank vizier plainly saw how much the sultan was prepossessed, therefore avoided disputes and let him remain in his own opinion.  The sultan as soon as he rose every morning went into the closet, to look at Alla ad Deen’s palace, and would go many times in a day to contemplate and admire it.

Alla ad Deen did not confine himself in his palace; but took care to shew himself once or twice a week in the town, by going sometimes to one mosque, and sometimes to another, to prayers, or to visit the grand vizier, who affected to pay his court to him on certain days, or to do the principal lords of the court the honour to return their visits after he had regaled them at his palace.  Every time he went out, he caused two slaves, who walked by the side of his horse, to throw handfuls of money among the people as he passed through the streets and squares, which were generally on those occasions crowded.  Besides, no one came to his palace gates to ask alms, but returned satisfied with his liberality.  In short, he so divided his time, that not a week passed but he went either once or twice a hunting, sometimes in the environs of the city, sometimes farther off; at which time the villages through which he passed felt the effects of his generosity, which gained him the love and blessings of the people:  and it was common for them to swear by his head.  Thus, without giving the least umbrage to the sultan, to whom he paid all imaginable respect, Alla ad Deen, by his affable behaviour and liberality, had won the affections of the people, and was more beloved than the sultan himself.  With all these good qualities he shewed a courage and a zeal for the public good which could not be sufficiently applauded.  He gave sufficient proofs of both in a revolt on the borders of the kingdom; for he no sooner understood that the sultan was levying an army to disperse the rebels than he begged the command of it, which he found not difficult to obtain.  As soon as he was empowered, he marched with so much expedition, that the sultan heard of the defeat of the rebels before he had received an account of his arrival in the army.  And though this action rendered his name famous throughout the kingdom, it made no alteration in his disposition; but he was as affable after his victory as before.

Alla ad Deen had conducted himself in this manner several years, when the African magician, who undesignedly had been the instrument of raising him to so high a pitch of prosperity, recalled him to his recollection in Africa, whither, after his expedition, he had returned.  And though he was almost persuaded that Alla ad Deen must have died miserably in the subterraneous abode where he had left him, yet he had the curiosity to inform himself about his end with certainty; and as he was a great geomancer, he took out of a cupboard a square covered box, which he used in his geomantic observations:  then sat himself down on the sofa, set it before him, and uncovered it.  After he had prepared and levelled the sand which was in it, with an intention to discover whether or no Alla ad Deen had died in the subterraneous abode, he cast the points, drew the figures, and formed a horoscope, by which, when he came to examine it, he found that Alla ad Deen, instead of dying in the cave, had made his escape, lived splendidly, was in possession of the wonderful lamp, had married a princess, and was much honoured and respected.

The magician no sooner understood by the rules of his diabolical art, that Alla ad Deen had arrived to this height of good fortune, than his face became inflamed with anger, and he cried out in a rage, “This sorry tailor’s son has discovered the secret and virtue of the lamp!  I believed his death to be certain; but find that he enjoys the fruit of my labour and study!  I will, however, prevent his enjoying it long, or perish in the attempt.”  He was not a great while deliberating on what he should do, but the next morning mounted a barb, set forwards, and never stopped but to refresh himself and horse, till he arrived at the capital of China.  He alighted, took up his lodging in a khan, and stayed there the remainder of the day and the night, to refresh himself after so long a journey.

The next day, his first object was to inquire what people said of Alla ad Deen; and, taking a walk through the town, he went to the most public and frequented places, where persons of the best distinction met to drink a certain warm liquor, which he had drunk often during his former visit.

As soon as he had seated himself, he was presented with a cup of it, which he took; but listening at the same time to the discourse of the company on each side of him, he heard them talking of Alla ad Deen’s palace.  When he had drunk off his liquor, he joined them, and taking this opportunity, inquired particularly of what palace they spoke with so much commendation.  “From whence come you?” said the person to whom he addressed himself; “you must certainly be a stranger not to have seen or heard talk of Prince Alla ad Deen’s palace” (for he was called so after his marriage with the princess).  “I do not say,” continued the man, “that it is one of the wonders of the world, but that it is the only wonder of the world; since nothing so grand, rich, and magnificent was ever beheld.  Certainly you must have come from a great distance, or some obscure corner, not to have heard of it, for it must have been talked of all over the world.  Go and see it, and then judge whether I have told you more than the truth.”  “Forgive my ignorance,” replied the African magician; “I arrived here but yesterday, and came from the farthest part of Africa, where the fame of this palace had not reached when I came away.  The business which brought me hither was so urgent, that my sole objets was to arrive as soon as I could, without stopping anywhere, or making any acquaintance.  But I will not fail to go and see it; my impatience is so great, I will go immediately and satisfy my curiosity, if you will do me the favour to shew me the way thither.”

The person to whom the African magician addressed himself took a pleasure in shewing him the way to Alla ad Deen’s palace, and he got up and went thither instantly.  When he came to the palace, and had examined it on all sides, he doubted not but that Alla ad Deen had made use of the lamp to build it.  Without attending to the inability of a poor tailor’s son, he knew that none but the genii, the slaves of the lamp, the attaining of which he had missed, could have performed such wonders; and piqued to the quick at Alla ad Deen’s happiness and splendour, he returned to the khan where he lodged.

The next point was to ascertain where the lamp was; whether Alla ad Deen carried it about with him, or where he kept it; and this he was to discover by an operation of geomancy.  As soon as he entered his lodging, he took his square box of sand, which he always carried with him when he travelled, and after he had performed some operations, he found that the lamp was in Alla ad Deen’s palace, and so great was his joy at the discovery that he could hardly contain himself.  “Well,” said he, “I shall have the lamp, and defy Alla ad Deen’s preventing my carrying it off, and making him sink to his original meanness, from which he has taken so high a flight.”

It was Alla ad Deen’s misfortune at that time to be absent in the chase for eight days, and only three were expired, which the magician came to know by this means.  After he had performed the magical operation, which gave him so much joy, he went to the superintendent of the khan, entered into conversation with him on indifferent subjects, and among the rest, told him he had been to see Alla ad Deen’s palace; and after exaggerating on all that he had seen most worthy of observation, added, “But my curiosity leads me farther, and I shall not be satisfied till I have seen the person to whom this wonderful edifice belongs.”  “That will be no difficult matter,” replied the master of the khan, “there is not a day passes but he gives an opportunity when he is in town, but at present he is not at the palace, and has been gone these three days on a hunting-match, which will last eight.”

The magician wanted to know no more; he took his leave of the superintendent of the khan, and returning to his own chamber, said to himself, “This is an opportunity I ought by no means to neglect, but must make the best use of it.”  To that end, he went to a coppersmith, and asked for a dozen copper lamps:  the master of the shop told him he had not so many by him, but if he would have patience till the next day, he would have them ready.  The magician appointed his time, and desired him to take care that they should be handsome and well polished.  After promising to pay him well, he returned to his inn.

The next day the magician called for the twelve lamps, paid the man his full price, put them into a basket which he bought on purpose, and with the basket hanging on his arm, went directly to Alla ad Deen’s palace:  as he approached he began crying, “Who will change old lamps for new ones?” As he went along, a crowd of children collected, who hooted, and thought him, as did all who chanced to be passing by, a madman or a fool, to offer to change new lamps for old ones.

The African magician regarded not their scoffs, hootings, or all they could say to him, but still continued crying, “Who will change old lamps for new?” He repeated this so often, walking backwards and forwards in front of the palace, that the princess, who was then in the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, hearing a man cry something, and not being able to distinguish his words, owing to the hooting of the children and increasing mob about him, sent one of her women slaves to know what he cried.

The slave was not long before she returned, and ran into the hall, laughing so heartily, that the princess could not forbear herself.  “Well, giggler,” said the princess, “will you tell me what you laugh at?” “Madam,” answered the slave, laughing still, “who can forbear laughing, to see a fool with a basket on his arm, full of fine new lamps, ask to change them for old ones; the children and mob, crowding about him so that he can hardly stir, make all the noise they can in derision of him.”

Another female slave hearing this, said, “Now you speak of lamps, I know not whether the princess may have observed it, but there is an old one upon a shelf of the prince’s robing-room, and whoever owns it will not be sorry to find a new one in its stead.  If the princess chooses, she may have the pleasure of trying if this fool is so silly as to give a new lamp for an old one, without taking any thing for the exchange.”

The lamp this slave spoke of was the wonderful lamp, which Alla ad Deen had laid upon the shelf before he departed for the chase; this he had done several times before; but neither the princess, the slaves, nor the eunuchs, had ever taken notice of it.  At all other times except when hunting he carried it about his person.

The princess, who knew not the value of this lamp, and the interest that Alla ad Deen, not to mention herself, had to keep it safe, entered into the pleasantry, and commanded a eunuch to take it, and make the exchange.  The eunuch obeyed, went out of the hall, and no sooner got to the palace gates than he saw the African magician, called to him, and shewing him the old lamp, said, “Give me a new lamp for this.”

The magician never doubted but this was the lamp he wanted.  There could be no other such in this palace, where every utensil was gold or silver.  He snatched it eagerly out of the eunuch’s hand, and thrusting it as far as he could into his breast, offered him his basket, and bade him choose which he liked best.  The eunuch picked out one, and carried it to the princess; but the exchange was no sooner made than the place rung with the shouts of the children, deriding the magician’s folly.

The African magician gave everybody leave to laugh as much as they pleased; he stayed not long near the palace, but made the best of his way, without crying any longer, “New lamps for old ones.”  His end was answered, and by his silence he got rid of the children and the mob.

As soon as he was out of the square between the two palaces, he hastened down the streets which were the least frequented; and having no more occasion for his lamps or basket, set all down in an alley where nobody saw him:  then going down another street or two, he walked till he came to one of the city gates, and pursuing his way through the suburbs, which were very extensive, at length reached a lonely spot, where he stopped for a time to execute the design he had in contemplation, never caring for his horse which he had left at the khan, but thinking himself perfectly compensated by the treasure he had acquired.

In this place the African magician passed the remainder of the day, till the darkest time of night, when he pulled the lamp out of his breast and rubbed it.  At that summons the genie appeared, and said, “What wouldst thou have?  I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those who have that lamp in their hands; both I and the other slaves of the lamp.”  “I command thee,” replied the magician, “to transport me immediately and the palace which thou and the other slaves of the lamp have built in this city, with all the people in it, to Africa.”  The genie made no reply, but with the assistance of the other genii, the slaves of the lamp immediately transported him and the palace entire, to the spot whither he was desired to convey it.

As soon as the sultan rose the next morning, according to custom, he went into his closet, to have the pleasure of contemplating and admiring Alla ad Deen’s palace; but when he first looked that way, and instead of a palace saw an empty space such as it was before the palace was built, he thought he was mistaken, and rubbed his eyes; but when he looked again, he still saw nothing more the second time than the first, though the weather was fine, the sky clear, and the dawn advancing had made all objects very distinct.  He looked again in front, to the right and left, but beheld nothing more than he had formerly been used to see from his window.  His amazement was so great, that he stood for some time turning his eyes to the spot where the palace had stood, but where it was no longer to be seen.  He could not comprehend how so large a palace as Alla ad Deen’s, which he had seen plainly every day for some years, and but the day before, should vanish so soon, and not leave the least remains behind.  “Certainly,” said he to himself, “I am not mistaken; it stood there:  if it had fallen, the materials would have lain in heaps; and if it had been swallowed up by an earthquake, there would be some mark left.”  At last, though he was convinced that no palace stood now opposite his own, he could not help staying some time at his window, to see whether he might not be mistaken.  At last he retired to his apartment, not without looking behind him before he quitted the spot ordered the grand vizier to be sent for with expedition, and in the meantime sat down, his mind agitated by so many different conjectures that he knew not what to resolve.

The grand vizier did not make the sultan wait long for him, but came with so much precipitation, that neither he nor his attendants, as they passed, missed Alla ad Deen’s palace; neither did the porters, when they opened the palace gates observe any alteration.

When he came into the sultan’s presence, he said to him, “the haste in which your majesty sent for me makes me believe something extraordinary has happened, since you know that this is a day of public audience, and I should not have failed of attending at the usual time.”  “Indeed,” said the sultan, “it is something very extraordinary, as you say, and you will allow it to be so:  tell me what is become of Alla ad Deen’s palace?” “His palace!” replied the grand vizier, in amazement, “I thought as I passed it stood in its usual place; such substantial buildings are not so easily removed.”  “Go into my closet,” said the sultan, “and tell me if you can see it.”

The grand vizier went into the closet, where he was struck with no less amazement than the sultan had been.  When he was well assured that there was not the least appearance of this palace, he returned to the sultan.  “Well,” said the sultan, “have you seen Alla ad Deen’s palace?” “No,” answered the vizier; “but your majesty may remember that I had the honour to tell you, that palace, which was the subject of your admiration, with all its immense riches, was only the work of magic and a magician; but your majesty would not pay the least attention to what I said.”

The sultan, who could not deny what the grand vizier had represented to him, flew into the greater passion:  “Where is that impostor, that wicked wretch,” said he, “that I may have his head taken off immediately?” “Sir,” replied the grand vizier, “it is some days since he came to take his leave of your majesty, on pretence of hunting; he ought to be sent for, to know what is become of his palace, since he cannot be ignorant of what has been transacted.”  “That is too great an indulgence,” replied the sultan:  “command a detachment of horse to bring him to me loaded with chains.”  The grand vizier gave orders for a detachment, and instructed the officer who commanded them how they were to act, that Alla ad Deen might not escape.  The detachment pursued their orders; and about five or six leagues from the town met him returning from the chase.  The officer advanced respectfully, and informed him the sultan was so impatient to see him, that he had sent his party to accompany him home.

Alla ad Deen had not the least suspicion of the true reason of their meeting him; but when he came within half a league of the city, the detachment surrounded him, when the officer addressed himself to him, and said, “Prince, it is with great regret that I declare to you the sultan’s order to arrest you, and to carry you before him as a criminal:  I beg of you not to take it ill that we acquit ourselves of our duty, and to forgive us.”

Alla ad Deen, who felt himself innocent, was much surprised at this declaration, and asked the officer if he knew what crime he was accused of; who replied, he did not.  Then Alla ad Deen, finding that his retinue was much interior to this detachment, alighted off his horse, and said to the officers, “Execute your orders; I am not conscious that I have committed any offence against the sultan’s person or government.”  A heavy chain was immediately put about his neck, and fastened round his body, so that both his arms were pinioned down; the officer then put himself at the head of the detachment, and one of the troopers taking hold of the end of the chain and proceeding after the officer, led Alla ad Deen, who was obliged to follow him on foot, into the city.

When this detachment entered the suburbs, the people, who saw Alla ad Deen thus led as a state criminal, never doubted but that his head was to be cut off; and as he was generally beloved, some took sabres and other arms; and those who had none gathered stones, and followed the escort.  The last division faced about to disperse them; but their numbers presently increased so much, that the soldiery began to think it would be well if they could get into the sultan’s palace before Alla ad Deen was rescued; to prevent which, according to the different extent of the streets, they took care to cover the ground by extending or closing.  In this manner they with much difficulty arrived at the palace square, and there drew up in a line, till their officer and troopers with Alla ad Deen had got within the gates, which were immediately shut.

Alla ad Deen was carried before the sultan, who waited for him, attended by the grand vizier, in a balcony; and as soon as he saw him, he ordered the executioner, who waited there for the purpose, to strike off his head without hearing him or giving him leave to clear himself.

As soon as the executioner had taken off the chain that was fastened about Alla ad Deen’s neck and body, and laid down a skin stained with the blood of the many he had executed, he made the supposed criminal kneel down, and tied a bandage over his eyes.  Then drawing his sabre, took his aim by flourishing it three times in the air, waiting for the sultan’s giving the signal to strike.

At that instant the grand vizier perceiving that the populace had forced the guard of horse, crowded the great square before the palace, and were scaling the walls in several places, and beginning to pull them down to force their way in; he said to the sultan, before he gave the signal, “I beg of your majesty to consider what you are going to do, since you will hazard your palace being destroyed; and who knows what fatal consequence may follow?” “My palace forced!” replied the sultan; “who can have that audacity?” “Sir,” answered the grand vizier, “if your majesty will but cast your eyes towards the great square, and on the palace walls, you will perceive the truth of what I say.”

The sultan was so much alarmed when he saw so great a crowd, and how enraged they were, that he ordered the executioner to put his sabre immediately into the scabbard, to unbind Alla ad Deen, and at the same time commanded the porters to declare to the people that the sultan had pardoned him, and that they might retire.

Those who had already got upon the walls, and were witnesses of what had passed, abandoned their design and got quickly down, overjoyed that they had saved the life of a man they dearly loved, and published the news amongst the rest, which was presently confirmed by the mace-bearers from the top of the terraces.  The justice which the sultan had done to Alla ad Deen soon disarmed the populace of their rage; the tumult abated, and the mob dispersed.

When Alla ad Deen found himself at liberty, he turned towards the balcony, and perceiving the sultan, raised his voice, and said to him in a moving manner, “I beg of your majesty to add one favour more to that which I have already received, which is, to let me know my crime?” “Your crime,” answered the sultan; “perfidious wretch!  Do you not know it?  Come hither, and I will shew it you.”

Alla ad Deen went up, when the sultan, going before him without looking at him, said, “Follow me;” and then led him into his closet.  When he came to the door, he said, “Go in; you ought to know whereabouts your palace stood:  look round and tell me what is become of it?”

Alla ad Deen looked, but saw nothing.  He perceived the spot upon which his palace had stood; but not being able to divine how it had disappeared, was thrown into such great confusion and amazement, that he could not return one word of answer.

The sultan growing impatient, demanded of him again, “Where is your palace, and what is become of my daughter?” Alla ad Deen, breaking silence, replied, “Sir, I perceive and own that the palace which I have built is not in its place, but is vanished; neither can I tell your majesty where it may be, but can assure you I had no concern in its removal.”

“I am not so much concerned about your palace,” replied the sultan, “I value my daughter ten thousand times more, and would have you find her out, otherwise I will cause your head to be struck off, and no consideration shall divert me from my purpose.”

“I beg of your majesty,” answered Alla ad Deen, “to grant me forty days to make my inquiries; and if in that time I have not the success I wish, I will offer my head at the foot of your throne, to be disposed of at your pleasure.”  “I give you the forty days you ask,” said the sultan; “but think not to abuse the favour I shew you, by imagining you shall escape my resentment; for I will find you out in whatsoever part of the world you may conceal yourself.”

Alla ad Deen went out of the sultan’s presence with great humiliation, and in a condition worthy of pity.  He crossed the courts of the palace, hanging down his head, and in such great confusion, that he durst not lift up his eyes.  The principal officers of the court, who had all professed themselves his friends, and whom he had never disobliged, instead of going up to him to comfort him, and offer him a retreat in their houses, turned their backs to avoid seeing him.  But had they accosted him with a word of comfort or offer of service, they would have no more known Alla ad Deen.  He did not know himself, and was no longer in his senses, as plainly appeared by his asking everybody he met, and at every house, if they had seen his palace, or could tell him any news of it.

These questions made the generality believe that Alla ad Deen was mad.  Some laughed at him, but people of sense and humanity, particularly those who had had any connection of business or friendship with him, really pitied him.  For three days he rambled about the city in this manner, without coming to any resolution, or eating anything but what some compassionate people forced him to take out of charity.

At last, as he could no longer in his unhappy condition stay in a city where he had lately been next to the sultan, he took the road to the country; and after he had traversed several fields in wild uncertainty, at the approach of night came to the bank of a river.  There, possessed by his despair, he said to himself, “Where shall I seek my palace?  In what province, country, or part of the world, shall I find that and my dear princess, whom the sultan expects from me?  I shall never succeed; I had better free myself at once from fruitless endeavours, and such bitter grief as preys upon me.”  He was just going to throw himself into the river, but, as a good Moosulmaun, true to his religion, he thought he should not do it without first saying his prayers.  Going to prepare himself, he went to the river’s brink, in order to perform the usual ablutions.  The place being steep and slippery, from the water beating against it, he slid down, and had certainly fallen into the river, but for a little rock which projected about two feet out of the earth.  Happily also for him he still had on the ring which the African magician had put on his finger before he went down into the subterraneous abode to fetch the precious lamp.  In slipping down the bank he rubbed the ring so hard by holding on the rock, that immediately the same genie appeared whom he had seen in the cave where the magician had left him.  “What wouldst thou have?” said the genie.  “I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those that have that ring on their finger; both I and the other slaves of the ring.”

Alla ad Deen, agreeably surprised at an apparition he so little expected in his present calamity, replied, “Save my life, genie, a second time, either by shewing me to the place where the palace I caused to be built now stands, or immediately transporting it back where it first stood.”  “What you command me,” answered the genie, “is not wholly in my power; I am only the slave of the ring; you must address yourself to the slave of the lamp.”  “If that be the case,” replied Alla ad Deen, “I command thee, by the power of the ring, to transport me to the spot where my palace stands, in what part of the world soever it may be, and set me down under the window of the princess Buddir al Buddoor.”  These words were no sooner out of his mouth, than the genie transported him into Africa, to the midst of a large plain, where his palace stood, at no great distance from a city, and placing him exactly under the window of the princess’s apartment, left him.  All this was done almost in an instant.

Alla ad Deen, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, knew his palace and the princess Buddir al Buddoor’s apartment again; but as the night was far advanced, and all was quiet in the palace, he retired to some distance, and sat down at the foot of a large tree.  There, full of hopes, and reflecting on his happiness, for which he was indebted to chance, he found himself in a much more comfortable situation than when he was arrested and carried before the sultan; being now delivered from the immediate danger of losing his life.  He amused himself for some time with these agreeable thoughts; but not having slept for two days, was not able to resist the drowsiness which came upon him, but fell fast asleep.

The next morning, as soon as day appeared, Alla ad Deen was agreeably awakened by the singing not only of the birds which had roosted in the tree under which he had passed the night, but also of those which frequented the thick groves of the palace garden.  When he cast his eyes on that wonderful edifice, he felt inexpressible joy at thinking he might possibly soon be master of it again, and once more possess his dear princess Buddir al Buddoor.  Pleased with these hopes, he immediately arose, went towards the princess’s apartment, and walked some time under her window in expectation of her rising, that he might see her.  During this expectation, he began to consider with himself whence the cause of his misfortune had proceeded; and after mature reflection, no longer doubted that it was owing to having trusted the lamp out of his sight.  He accused himself of negligence in letting it be a moment away from him.  But what puzzled him most was, that he could not imagine who had been so envious of his happiness.  He would soon have guessed this, if he had known that both he and his palace were in Africa, the very name of which would soon have made him remember the magician his declared enemy; but the genie, the slave of the ring, had not made the least mention of the name of the country, nor had Alla ad Deen inquired.

The princess rose earlier that morning than she had done since her transportation into Africa by the magician, whose presence she was forced to support once a day, because he was master of the palace; but she had always treated him so harshly that he dared not reside in it.  As she was dressing, one of the women looking through the window, perceived Alla ad Deen, and instantly told her mistress.  The princess, who could not believe the joyful tidings, hastened herself to the window, and seeing Alla ad Deen, immediately opened it.  The noise of opening the window made Alla ad Deen turn his head that way, and perceiving the princess he saluted her with an air that expressed his joy.  “To lose no time,” said she to him, “I have sent to have the private door opened for you; enter, and come up.”

The private door, which was just under the princess’s apartment, was soon opened, and Alla ad Deen conducted up into the chamber.  It is impossible to express the joy of both at seeing each other, after so cruel a separation.  After embracing and shedding tears of joy, they sat down, and Alla ad Deen said, “I beg of you, princess, in God’s name, before we talk of anything else, to tell me, both for your own sake, the sultan your father’s, and mine, what is become of an old lamp which I left upon a shelf in my robing-chamber, when I departed for the chase.”

“Alas! dear husband,” answered the princess, “I was afraid our misfortune might be owing to that lamp:  and what grieves me most is, that I have been the cause of it.”  “Princess,” replied Alla ad Deen, “do not blame yourself, since it was entirely my fault, for I ought to have taken more care of it.  But let us now think only of repairing the loss; tell me what has happened, and into whose hands it has fallen.”

The princess then related how she had changed the old lamp for a new one, which she ordered to be fetched, that he might see it, and how the next morning she found herself in the unknown country they were then in, which she was told was Africa, by the traitor, who had transported her thither by his magic art.

“Princess,” said Alla ad Deen, interrupting her, “you have informed me who the traitor is, by telling me we are in Africa.  He is the most perfidious of men; but this is neither a time nor place to give you a full account of his villainies.  I desire you only to tell me what he has done with the lamp, and where he has put it?” “He carries it carefully wrapped up in his bosom,” said the princess; “and this I can assure you, because he pulled it out before me, and shewed it to me in triumph.”

“Princess,” said Alla ad Deen, “do not be displeased that I trouble you with so many questions, since they are equally important to us both.  But to come to what most particularly concerns me; tell me, I conjure you, how so wicked and perfidious a man treats you?” “Since I have been here,” replied the princess, “he repairs once every day to see me; and I am persuaded the little satisfaction he receives from his visits makes him come no oftener.  All his addresses tend to persuade me to break that faith I have pledged to you, and to take him for my husband; giving me to understand, I need not entertain hopes of ever seeing you again, for that you were dead, having had your head struck off by the sultan my father’s order.  He added, to justify himself, that you were an ungrateful wretch; that your good fortune was owing to him, and a great many other things of that nature which I forbear to repeat:  but as he received no other answer from me but grievous complaints and tears, he was always forced to retire with as little satisfaction as he came.  I doubt not his intention is to allow me time to overcome my grief, in hopes that afterwards I may change my sentiments; and if I persevere in an obstinate refusal, to use violence.  But my dear husband’s presence removes all my apprehensions.”

“I am confident my attempts to punish the magician will not be in vain,” replied Alla ad Deen, “since my princess’s fears are removed, and I think I have found the means to deliver you from both your enemy and mine; to execute this design, it is necessary for me to go to the town.  I shall return by noon, will then communicate my design, and what must be done by you to ensure success.  But that you may not be surprised, I think it proper to acquaint you, that I shall change my apparel, and beg of you to give orders that I may not wait long at the private door, but that it may be opened at the first knock;” all which the princess promised to observe.

When Alla ad Deen was out of the palace, he looked round him on all sides, and perceiving a peasant going into the country, hastened after him; and when he had overtaken him, made a proposal to him to change habits, which the man agreed to.  When they had made the exchange, the countryman went about his business, and Alla ad Deen to the city.  After traversing several streets, he came to that part of the town where all descriptions of merchants and artisans had their particular streets, according to their trades.  He went into that of the druggists; and going into one of the largest and best furnished shops, asked the druggist if he had a certain powder which he named.

The druggist, judging Alla ad Deen by his habit to be very poor, and that he had not money enough to pay for it, told him he had it, but that it was very dear; upon which Alla ad Deen penetrated his thoughts, pulled out his purse, and shewing him some gold, asked for half a dram of the powder; which the druggist weighed, wrapped up in paper, and gave him, telling him the price was a piece of gold.  Alla ad Deen put the money into his hand, and staying no longer in the town than just to get a little refreshment, returned to the palace, where he waited not long at the private door.  When he came into the princess’s apartment, he said to her, “Princess, perhaps the aversion you tell me you have for your ravisher may be an objection to your executing what I am going to propose; but permit me to say it is proper that you should at this juncture dissemble a little, and do violence to your inclinations, if you would deliver yourself from him, and give my lord the sultan your father the satisfaction of seeing you again.”  “If you will take my advice,” continued he, “dress yourself this moment in one of your richest habits, and when the African magician comes, make no difficulty to give him the best reception; receive him with a cheerful countenance, so that he may imagine time has removed your affliction and disgust at his addresses.  In your conversation, let him understand that you strive to forget me; and that he may be the more fully convinced of your sincerity, invite him to sup with you, and tell him you should be glad to taste of some of the best wines of his country.  He will presently go to fetch you some.  During his absence, put into one of the cups you are accustomed to drink out of this powder, and setting it by, charge the slave you may order that night to attend you, on a signal you shall agree upon, to bring that cup to you.  When the magician and you have eaten and drunk as much as you choose, let her bring you the cup, and then change cups with him.  He will esteem it so great a favour that he will not refuse, but eagerly quaff it off; but no sooner will he have drunk, than you will see him fall backwards.  If you have any reluctance to drink out of his cup, you may pretend only to do it, without fear of being discovered; for the effect of the powder is so quick, that he will not have time to know whether you drink or not.”

When Alla ad Deen had finished, “I own,” answered the princess, “I shall do myself great violence in consenting to make the magician such advances as I see are absolutely necessary; but what cannot one resolve to do against a cruel enemy?  I will therefore follow your advice, since both my repose and yours depend upon it.”  After the princess had agreed to the measures proposed by Alla ad Deen, he took his leave, and went and spent the rest of the day in the neighbourhood of the palace till it was night, and he might safely return to the private door.

The princess, who had remained inconsolable at being separated not only from her husband, whom she had loved from the first moment, and still continued to love more out of inclination than duty, but also from the sultan her father, who had always showed the most tender and paternal affection for her, had, ever since their cruel separation, lived in great neglect of her person.  She had almost forgotten the neatness so becoming persons of her sex and quality, particularly after the first time the magician paid her a visit; and she had understood by some of the women, who knew him again, that it was he who had taken the old lamp in exchange for a new one, which rendered the sight of him more abhorred.  However, the opportunity of taking the revenge he deserved made her resolve to gratify Alla ad Deen.  As soon, therefore, as he was gone, she sat down to dress, and was attired by her women to the best advantage in the richest habit of her wardrobe.  Her girdle was of the finest and largest diamonds set in gold, her necklace of pearls, six on a side, so well proportioned to that in the middle, which was the largest ever seen, and invaluable, that the greatest sultanesses would have been proud to have been adorned with only two of the smallest.  Her bracelets, which were of diamonds and rubies intermixed, corresponded admirably to the richness of the girdle and necklace.

When the princess Buddir al Buddoor was completely dressed, she consulted her glass and women upon her adjustment; and when she found she wanted no charms to flatter the foolish passion of the African magician, she sat down on a sofa expecting his arrival.

The magician came at the usual hour, and as soon as he entered the great hall where the princess waited to receive him, she rose with an enchanting grace and smile, and pointed with her hand to the most honourable place, waiting till he sat down, that she might sit at the same time which was a civility she had never shown him before.

The African magician, dazzled more with the lustre of the princess’s eyes than the glittering of the jewels with which she was adorned, was much surprised.  The smiling and graceful air with which she received him, so opposite to her former behaviour, quite fascinated his heart.

When he was seated, the princess, to free him from his embarrassment, broke silence first, locking at him all the time in such a manner as to make him believe that he was not so odious to her as she had given him to understand hitherto and said, “You are doubtless amazed to find me so much altered to-day; but your surprise will not be so great when I acquaint you, that I am naturally of a disposition so opposite to melancholy and grief, sorrow and uneasiness, that I always strive to put them as far away as possible when I find the subject of them is past.  I have reflected on what you told me of Alla ad Deen’s fate, and know my father’s temper so well, that I am persuaded with you he could not escape the terrible effects of the sultan’s rage; therefore, should I continue to lament him all my life, my tears cannot recall him.  For this reason, since I have paid all the duties decency requires of me to his memory, now he is in the grave I think I ought to endeavour to comfort myself.  These are the motives of the change you see in me; I am resolved to banish melancholy entirely; and, persuaded that you will bear me company tonight, I have ordered a supper to be prepared; but as I have no wines but those of China, I have a great desire to taste of the produce of Africa, and doubt not your procuring some of the best.”

The African magician, who had looked upon the happiness of getting so soon and so easily into the princess Buddir al Buddoor’s good graces as impossible, could not think of words expressive enough to testify how sensible he was of her favours:  but to put an end the sooner to a conversation which would have embarrassed him, if he had engaged farther in it, he turned it upon the wines of Africa, and said, “Of all the advantages Africa can boast, that of producing the most excellent wines is one of the principal.  I have a vessel of seven years old, which has never been broached; and it is indeed not praising it too much to say it is the finest wine in the world.  If my princess,” added he, “will give me leave, I will go and fetch two bottles, and return again immediately.”  “I should be sorry to give you that trouble,” replied the princess; “you had better send for them.”  “It is necessary I should go myself,” answered the African magician; “for nobody but myself knows where the key of the cellar is laid, or has the secret to unlock the door.”  “If it be so,” said the princess, “make haste back; for the longer you stay, the greater will be my impatience, and we shall sit down to supper as soon as you return.”

The African magician, full of hopes of his expected happiness, rather flew than ran, and returned quickly with the wine.  The princess, not doubting but he would make haste, put with her own hand the powder Alla ad Deen had given her into the cup set apart for that purpose.  They sat down at the table opposite to each other, the magician’s back towards the sideboard.  The princess presented him with the best at the table, and said to him, “If you please, I will entertain you with a concert of vocal and instrumental music; but, as we are only two, I think conversation maybe more agreeable.”  This the magician took as a new favour.

After they had eaten some time, the princess called for some wine, drank the magician’s health, and afterwards said to him, “Indeed you had a full right to commend your wine, since I never tasted any so delicious.”  “Charming princess,” said he, holding in his hand the cup which had been presented to him, “my wine becomes more exquisite by your approbation.”  “Then drink my health,” replied the princess; “you will find I understand wines.”  He drank the princess’s health, and returning the cup, said, “I think myself fortunate, princess, that I reserved this wine for so happy an occasion; and own I never before drank any in every respect so excellent.”

When they had each drunk two or three cups more, the princess, who had completely charmed the African magician by her civility and obliging behaviour, gave the signal to the slave who served them with wine, bidding her bring the cup which had been filled for her, and at the same time bring the magician a full goblet.  When they both had their cups in their hands, she said to him, “I know not how you express your loves in these parts when drinking together?  With us in China the lover and his mistress reciprocally exchange cups, and drink each other’s health.”  At the same time she presented to him the cup which was in her hand, and held out her hand to receive his.  He hastened to make the exchange with the more pleasure, because he looked upon this favour as the most certain token of an entire conquest over the princess, which raised his rapture to the highest pitch.  Before he drank, he said to her, with the cup in his hand, “Indeed, princess, we Africans are not so refined in the art of love as you Chinese:  and your instructing me in a lesson I was ignorant of, informs me how sensible I ought to be of the favour done me.  I shall never, lovely princess, forget my recovering, by drinking out of your cup, that life, which your cruelty, had it continued, must have made me despair of.”

The princess, who began to be tired with this impertinent declaration of the African magician, interrupted him, and said, “Let us drink first, and then say what you will afterwards;” at the same time she set the cup to her lips, while the African magician, who was eager to get his wine off first, drank up the very last drop.  In finishing it, he had reclined his head back to shew his eagerness, and remained some time in that state.  The princess kept the cup at her lips, till she saw his eyes turn in his head, when he fell backwards lifeless on the sofa.

The princess had no occasion to order the private door to be opened to Alla ad Deen; for her women were so disposed from the great hall to the foot of the staircase, that the word was no sooner given that the African magician was fallen backwards, than the door was immediately opened.

As soon as Alla ad Deen entered the hall, he saw the magician stretched backwards on the sofa.  The princess rose from her seat, and ran overjoyed to embrace him; but he stopped her, and said, “Princess, it is not yet time; oblige me by retiring to your apartment; and let me be left alone a moment, while I endeavour to transport you back to China as speedily as you were brought from thence.”

When the princess, her women and eunuchs, were gone out of the hall, Alla ad Deen shut the door, and going directly to the dead body of the magician, opened his vest, took out the lamp, which was carefully wrapped up, as the princess had told him, and unfolding and rubbing it, the genie immediately appeared.  “Genie,” said Alla ad Deen, “I have called to command thee, on the part of thy good mistress this lamp, to transport this palace instantly into China, to the place from whence it was brought hither.”  The genie bowed his head in token of obedience, and disappeared.  Immediately the palace was transported into China, and its removal was only felt by two little shocks, the one when it was lifted up, the other when it was set down, and both in a very short interval of time.

Alla ad Deen went to the princess’s apartment, and embracing her, said, “I can assure you, princess, that your joy and mine will be complete tomorrow morning.”  The princess, guessing that Alla ad Deen must be hungry, ordered the dishes, served up in the great hall, to be brought down.  The princess and Alla ad Deen ate as much as they thought fit, and drank of the African magician’s old wine; during which time their conversation could not be otherwise than satisfactory, and then they retired to their own chamber.

From the time of the transportation of Alla ad Deen’s palace, the princess’s father had been inconsolable for the loss of her.  He could take no rest, and instead of avoiding what might continue his affliction, he indulged it without restraint.  Before the disaster he used to go every morning into his closet to please himself with viewing the palace, he went now many times in the day to renew his tears, and plunge himself into the deepest melancholy, by the idea of no more seeing that which once gave him so much pleasure, and reflecting how he had lost what was most dear to him in this world.

The very morning of the return of Alla ad Deen’s palace, the sultan went, by break of day, into his closet to indulge his sorrows.  Absorbed in himself, and in a pensive mood, he cast his eyes towards the spot, expecting only to see an open space; but perceiving the vacancy filled up, he at first imagined the appearance to be the effect of a fog; looking more attentively, he was convinced beyond the power of doubt it was his son-in-law’s palace.  Joy and gladness succeeded to sorrow and grief.  He returned immediately into his apartment, and ordered a horse to be saddled and brought to him without delay, which he mounted that instant, thinking he could not make haste enough to the palace.

Alla ad Deen, who foresaw what would happen, rose that morning by day-break, put on one of the most magnificent habits his wardrobe afforded, and went up into the hall of twenty-four windows, from whence he perceived the sultan approaching, and got down soon enough to receive him at the foot of the great staircase, and to help him to dismount.  “Alla ad Deen,” said the sultan, “I cannot speak to you till I have seen and embraced my daughter.”

He led the sultan into the princess’s apartment.  The happy father embraced her with his face bathed in tears of joy; and the princess, on her side, shewed him all the testimonies of the extreme pleasure the sight of him afforded her.

The sultan was some time before he could open his lips, so great was his surprise and joy to find his daughter again, after he had given her up for lost; and the princess, upon seeing her father, let fall tears of rapture and affection.

At last the sultan broke silence, and said, “I would believe, daughter, your joy to see me makes you seem as little changed as if no misfortune had befallen you; yet I cannot be persuaded but that you have suffered much alarm; for a large palace cannot be so suddenly transported as yours has been, without causing great fright and apprehension I would have you tell me all that has happened, and conceal nothing from me.”

The princess, who took great pleasure in giving the sultan the satisfaction he demanded, said, “If I appear so little altered, I beg of your majesty to consider that I received new life yesterday morning by the presence of my dear husband and deliverer Alla ad Deen, whom I looked upon and bewailed as lost to me; and the happiness of seeing and embracing of whom has almost recovered me to my former state of health.  My greatest suffering was only to find myself forced from your majesty and my dear husband; not only from the love I bore my husband, but from the uneasiness I laboured under through fear that he, though innocent, might feel the effects of your anger, to which I knew he was left exposed.  I suffered but little from the insolence of the wretch who had carried me off; for having secured the ascendant over him, I always put a stop to his disagreeable overtures, and was as little constrained as I am at present.

“As to what relates to my transportation, Alla ad Deen had no concern in it; I was myself the innocent cause of it.”  To persuade the sultan of the truth of what she said, she gave him a full account of how the African magician had disguised himself, and offered to change new lamps for old ones; how she had amused herself in making that exchange, being entirely ignorant of the secret and importance of the wonderful lamp; how the palace and herself were carried away and transported into Africa, with the African magician, who was recognised by two of her women and the eunuch who made the exchange of the lamp, when he had the audacity, after the success of his daring enterprise, to propose himself for her husband; how he persecuted her till Alla ad Deen’s arrival; how they had concerted measures to get the lamp from him again, and the success they had fortunately met with by her dissimulation in inviting him to supper, and giving him the cup with the powder prepared for him.  “For the rest,” added she, “I leave it to Alla ad Deen to recount.”

Alla ad Deen had not much to tell the sultan, but only said, “When the private door was opened I went up into the great hall, where I found the magician lying dead on the sofa, and as I thought it not proper for the princess to stay there any longer, I desired her to go down into her own apartment, with her women and eunuchs.  As soon as I was alone, and had taken the lamp out of the magician’s breast, I made use of the same secret he had done, to remove the palace, and carry off the princess; and by that means the palace was re-conveyed to the place where it stood before; and I have the happiness to restore the princess to your majesty, as you commanded me.  But that your majesty may not think that I impose upon you, if you will give yourself the trouble to go up into the hall, you may see the magician punished as he deserved.”

The sultan, to be assured of the truth, rose instantly, and went into the hall, where, when he saw the African magician dead, and his face already livid by the strength of the poison, he embraced Alla ad Deen with great tenderness, and said, “My son, be not displeased at my proceedings against you; they arose from my paternal love; and therefore you ought to forgive the excesses to which it hurried me.”  “Sir,” replied Alla ad Deen, “I have not the least reason to complain of your majesty’s conduct, since you did nothing but what your duty required.  This infamous magician, the basest of men, was the sole cause of my misfortune.  When your majesty has leisure, I will give you an account of another villanous action he was guilty of towards me, which was no less black and base than this, from which I was preserved by the providence of God in a very miraculous way.”  “I will take an opportunity, and that very shortly,” replied the sultan, “to hear it; but in the mean time let us think only of rejoicing, and the removal of this odious object.”

Alla ad Deen ordered the magician’s corpse to be removed and thrown upon a dunghill, for birds and beasts to prey upon.  In the mean time, the sultan commanded the drums, trumpets, cymbals, and other instruments of music to announce his joy to the public, and a festival of ten days to be proclaimed for the return of the princess and Alla ad Deen.

Thus Alla ad Deen escaped once more the almost inevitable danger of losing his life; but this was not the last, since he ran as great a hazard a third time.

The African magician had a younger brother, who was equally skilful as a necromancer, and even surpassed him in villany and pernicious designs.  As they did not live together, or in the same city, but oftentimes when one was in the east, the other was in the west, they failed not every year to inform themselves, by their art, each where the other resided, and whether they stood in need of one another’s assistance.

Some time after the African magician had failed in his enterprise against Alla ad Deen, his younger brother, who had heard no tidings of him, and was not in Africa, but in a distant country, had the wish to know in what part of the world he sojourned, the state of his health, and what he was doing; and as he, as well as his brother, always carried a geomantic square instrument about him, he prepared the sand, cast the points, and drew the figures.  On examining the planetary mansions, he found that his brother was no longer living, but had been poisoned; and by another observation, that he was in the capital of the kingdom of China; also that the person who had poisoned him was of mean birth, though married to a princess, a sultan’s daughter.

When the magician had informed himself of his brother’s fate, he lost no time in useless regret, which could not restore him to life; but resolving immediately to revenge his death, departed for China; where, after crossing plains, rivers, mountains, deserts, and a long tract of country without delay, he arrived after incredible fatigues.

When he came to the capital of China, he took a lodging.  The next day he walked through the town, not so much to observe the beauties, which were indifferent to him, as to take proper measures to execute his pernicious designs.  He introduced himself into the most frequented places, where he listened to everybody’s discourse.  In a place where people resort to divert themselves with games of various kinds, and where some were conversing, while others played, he heard some persons talk of the virtue and piety of a woman called Fatima, who was retired from the world, and of the miracles she wrought.  As he fancied that this woman might be serviceable to him in the project he had conceived, he took one of the company aside, and requested to be informed more particularly who that holy woman was, and what sort of miracles she performed.

“What!” said the person whom he addressed, “have you never seen or heard of her?  She is the admiration of the whole town, for her fasting, her austerities, and her exemplary life.  Except Mondays and Fridays, she never stirs out of her little cell; and on those days on which she comes into the town she does an infinite deal of good; for there is not a person that has the headache but is cured by her laying her hand upon them.”

The magician wanted no further information.  He only asked the person in what part of the town this holy woman’s cell was situated.  After he had informed himself on this head, he determined on the detestable design of murdering her and assuming her character.  With this view he watched all her steps the first day she went out after he had made this inquiry, without losing sight of her till evening, when he saw her re-enter her cell.  When he had fully observed the place, he went to one of those houses where they sell a certain hot liquor, and where any person may pass the night, particularly in the great heats, when the people of that country prefer lying on a mat to a bed.  About midnight, after the magician had satisfied the master of the house for what little he had called for, he went out, and proceeded directly to the cell of Fatima.  He had no difficulty to open the door, which was only fastened with a latch, and he shut it again after he had entered, without any noise.  When he entered the cell, he perceived Fatima by moonlight lying in the air on a sofa covered only by an old mat, with her head leaning against the wall.  He awakened her, and clapped a dagger to her breast.

The pious Fatima opening her eyes, was much surprised to see a man with a dagger at her breast ready to stab her, and who said to her, “If you cry out, or make the least noise, I will kill you; but get up, and do as I shall direct you.”

Fatima, who had lain down in her habit, got up, trembling with fear.  “Do not be so much frightened,” said the magician; “I only want your habit, give it me and take mine.”  Accordingly Fatima and he changed clothes.  He then said to her, “Colour my face, that I may be like you;” but perceiving that the poor creature could not help trembling, to encourage her he said, “I tell you again you need not fear anything:  I swear by the name of God I will not take away your life.”  Fatima lighted her lamp, led him into the cell, and dipping a soft brush in a certain liquor, rubbed it over his face, assured him the colour would not change, and that his face was of the same hue as her own:  after which, she put her own head-dress on his head, also a veil, with which she shewed him how to hide his face as he passed through the town.  After this, she put a long string of beads about his neck, which hung down to the middle of his body, and giving him the stick she used to walk with in his hand, brought him a looking-glass, and bade him look if he was not as like her as possible.  The magician found himself disguised as he wished to be; but he did not keep the oath he so solemnly swore to the good Fatima; but instead of stabbing her, for fear the blood might discover him, he strangled her; and when he found she was dead, threw her body into a cistern just by the cell.

The magician, thus disguised like the holy woman Fatima, spent the remainder of the night in the cell.  The next morning, two hours after sunrise, though it was not a day the holy woman used to go out on, he crept out of the cell, being well persuaded that nobody would ask him any questions; or, if they should, he had an answer ready for them.  As one of the first things he did after his arrival was to find out Alla ad Deen’s palace, where he was to complete his designs, he went directly thither.

As soon as the people saw the holy woman, as they imagined him to be, they presently gathered about him in a great crowd.  Some begged his blessing, others kissed his hand, and others, more reserved, only the hem of his garment; while others, whether their heads ached, or they wished to be preserved against that disorder, stooped for him to lay his hands upon them; which he did, muttering some words in form of prayer; and, in short, counterfeited so well, that everybody took him for the holy woman.

After frequently stopping to satisfy people of this description, who received neither good nor harm from this imposition of hands, he came at last to the square before Alla ad Deen’s palace.  The crowd was so great that the eagerness to get at him increased in proportion.  Those who were the most zealous and strong forced their way through the crowd.  There were such quarrels, and so great a noise, that the princess, who was in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, heard it, and asked what was the matter; but nobody being able to give her an answer, she ordered them to inquire and inform her.  One of her women looked out of a window, and then told her it was a great crowd of people collected about the holy woman to be cured of the headache by the imposition of her hands.

The princess, who had long heard of this holy woman, but had never seen her, was very desirous to have some conversation with her, which the chief of the eunuchs perceiving, told her it was an easy matter to bring her to her, if she desired and commanded it; and the princess expressing her wishes, he immediately sent four eunuchs for the pretended holy woman.

As soon as the crowd saw the eunuchs, they made way, and the magician perceiving also that they were coming for him, advanced to meet them, overjoyed to find his plot proceeded so well.  “Holy woman,” said one of the eunuchs, “the princess wants to see you, and has sent us for you.”  “The princess does me too great an honour,” replied the false Fatima; “I am ready to obey her command,” and at the same time followed the eunuchs to the palace.

When the magician, who under a holy garment disguised a wicked heart, was introduced into the great hall, and perceived the princess, he began a prayer, which contained a long enumeration of vows and good wishes for the princess’s health and prosperity, and that she might have every thing she desired.  He then displayed all his hypocritical rhetoric, to insinuate himself into the princess’s favour under the cloak of piety, which it was no hard matter for him to do; for as the princess herself was naturally good, she was easily persuaded that all the world were like her, especially those who made profession of serving God in solitude.

When the pretended Fatima had finished his long harangue, the princess said to him, “I thank you, good mother, for your prayers:  I have great confidence in them, and hope God will hear them.  Come, and sit by me.”  The false Fatima sat down with affected modesty:  the princess then resuming her discourse, said, “My good mother, I have one thing to request, which you must not refuse me; it is to stay with me, that you may edify me with your way of living; and that I may learn from your good example how to serve God.”  “Princess,” said the counterfeit Fatima, “I beg of you not to ask what I cannot consent to, without neglecting my prayers and devotion.”  “That shall be no hinderance to you,” answered the princess; “I have a great many apartments unoccupied; you shall choose which you like best, and have as much liberty to perform your devotions as if you were in your own cell.”

The magician, who desired nothing more than to introduce himself into the palace, where it would be a much easier matter for him to execute his designs, under the favour and protection of the princess, than if he had been forced to come and go from the cell to the palace, did not urge much to excuse himself from accepting the obliging offer which the princess made him.  “Princess,” said he, “whatever resolution a poor wretched woman as I am may have made me renounce the pomp and grandeur of this world, I dare not presume to oppose the will and commands of so pious and charitable a princess.”

Upon this the princess, rising up, said, “Come with me, I will shew you what vacant apartments I have, that you may make choice of that you like best.”  The magician followed the princess, and of all the apartments she shewed him, made choice of that which was the worst furnished, saying it was too good for him, and that he only accepted of it to please her.

Afterwards the princess would have brought him back again into the great hall to make him dine with her; but he considering that he should then be obliged to shew his face, which he had always taken care to conceal; and fearing that the princess should find out that he was not Fatima, he begged of her earnestly to excuse him, telling her that he never ate anything but bread and dried fruits, and desiring to eat that slight repast in his own apartment.  The princess granted his request, saying, “You may be as free here, good mother, as if you were in your own cell:  I will order you a dinner, but remember I expect you as soon as you have finished your repast.”

After the princess had dined, and the false Fatima had been informed by one of the eunuchs that she was risen from table, he failed not to wait upon her.  “My good mother,” said the princess, “I am overjoyed to have the company of so holy a woman as yourself, who will confer a blessing upon this palace.  But now I am speaking of the palace, pray how do you like it?  And before I shew it all to you, tell me first what you think of this hall.”

Upon this question, the counterfeit Fatima, who, to act his part the better, affected to hang down his head, without so much as ever once lifting it, at last looked up, and surveyed the hall from one end to the other.  When he had examined it well, he said to the princess, “As far as such a solitary being as I am, who am unacquainted with what the world calls beautiful, can judge, this hall is truly admirable and most beautiful; there wants but one thing.”  “What is that, good mother?” demanded the princess; “tell me, I conjure you.  For my part, I always believed, and have heard say, it wanted nothing; but if it does, it shall be supplied.”

“Princess,” said the false Fatima, with great dissimulation, “forgive me the liberty I have taken; but my opinion is, if it can be of any importance, that if a roe’s egg were hung up in the middle of the dome, this hall would have no parallel in the four quarters of the world, and your palace would be the wonder of the unit verse.”

“My good mother,” said the princess, “what bird is a roe, and where may one get an egg?” “Princess,” replied the pretended Fatima, “it is a bird of prodigious size, which inhabits the summit of mount Caucasus; the architect who built your palace can get you one.”

After the princess had thanked the false Fatima for what she believed her good advice, she conversed with her upon other matters; but could not forget the roe’s egg, which she resolved to request of Alla ad Deen when he returned from hunting.  He had been gone six days, which the magician knew, and therefore took advantage of his absence; but he returned that evening after the false Fatima had taken leave of the princess, and retired to his apartment.  As soon as he arrived, he went directly to the princess’s apartment, saluted and embraced her, but she seemed to receive him coldly.  “My princess,” said he, “I think you are not so cheerful as you used to be; has any thing happened during my absence, which has displeased you, or given you any trouble or dissatisfaction In the name of God, do not conceal it from me; I will leave nothing undone that is in my power to please you.”  “It is a trifling matter,” replied the princess, “which gives me so little concern that I could not have thought you could have perceived it in my countenance; but since you have unexpectedly discovered some alteration, I will no longer disguise a matter of so little consequence from you.”

“I always believed,” continued the princess, “that our palace was the most superb, magnificent, and complete in the world:  but I will tell you now what I find fault with, upon examining the hall of four-and-twenty windows.  Do not you think with me, that it would be complete if a roe’s egg were hung up in the midst of the dome?” “Princess,” replied Alla ad Deen, “it is enough that you think there wants such an ornament; you shall see by the diligence used to supply that deficiency, that there is nothing which I would not do for your sake.”

Alla ad Deen left the princess Buddir al Buddoor that moment, and went up into the hall of four-and-twenty windows, where pulling out of his bosom the lamp, which, after the danger he had been exposed to, he always carried about him, he rubbed it; upon which the genie immediately appeared.  “Genie,” said Alla ad Deen, “there wants a roe’s egg to be hung up in the midst of the dome; I command thee, in the name of this lamp, to repair the deficiency.”  Alla ad Deen had no sooner pronounced these words, than the genie gave so loud and terrible a cry, that the hall shook, and Alla ad Deen could scarcely stand upright.  “What! wretch,” said the genie, in a voice that would have made the most undaunted man tremble, “is it not enough that I and my companions have done every thing for you, but you, by an unheard-of ingratitude, must command me to bring my master, and hang him up in the midst of this dome?  This attempt deserves that you, your wife, and your palace, should be immediately reduced to ashes:  but you are happy that this request does not come from yourself.  Know then, that the true author is the brother of the African magician, your enemy, whom you have destroyed as he deserved.  He is now in your palace, disguised in the habit of the holy woman Fatima, whom he has murdered; and it is he who has suggested to your wife to make this pernicious demand.  His design is to kill you, therefore take care of yourself.”  After these words, the genie disappeared.

Alla ad Deen lost not a word of what the genie had said.  He had heard talk of the holy woman Fatima, and how she pretended to cure the headache.  He returned to the princess’s apartment, and without mentioning a word of what had happened, sat down, and complained of a great pain which had suddenly seized his head; upon which the princess ordered the holy woman to be called, and then told him how she had invited her to the palace, and that she had appointed her an apartment.

When the pretended Fatima came, Alla ad Deen said, “Come hither, good mother; I am glad to see you here at so fortunate a time; I am tormented with a violent pain in my head, and request your assistance, by the confidence I have in your good prayers, and hope you will not refuse me that favour which you do to so many persons afflicted with this complaint.”  So saying, he arose, but held down his head.  The counterfeit Fatima advanced towards him, with his hand all the time on a dagger concealed in his girdle under his gown; which Alla ad Deen observing, he seized his hand before he had drawn it, pierced him to the heart with his own dagger, and then pushed him down on the floor.

“My dear husband, what have you done?” cried the princess in surprise.  “You have killed the holy woman.”  “No, my princess,” answered Alla ad Deen, with emotion, “I have not killed Fatima, but a villain, who would have assassinated me, if I had not prevented him.  This wicked wretch,” added he, uncovering his face, “has strangled Fatima, whom you accuse me of killing, and disguised himself in her clothes with intent to murder me:  but that you may know him better, he is brother to the African magician.”  Alla ad Deen then informed her how he came to know these particulars, and afterwards ordered the dead body to be taken away.

Thus was Alla ad Deen delivered from the persecution of two brothers, who were magicians.  Within a few years afterwards, the sultan died in a good old age, and as he left no male children, the princess Buddir al Buddoor, as lawful heir of the throne, succeeded him, and communicating the power to Alla ad Deen, they reigned together many years, and left a numerous and illustrious posterity.

Adventure of the caliph Haroon al
Rusheed.

The caliph Haroon al Rusheed was one day suffering from depression of spirits, when his faithful and favourite grand vizier Jaaffier came to him.  This minister finding him alone, which was seldom the case, and perceiving as he approached that he was in a very melancholy humour, and never lifted up his eyes, stopped till he should vouchsafe to look at him.

At last the caliph turned his eyes towards him, but presently withdrew them again, and remained in the same posture motionless as before.

The grand vizier, observing nothing in the caliph’s eyes which regarded him personally, took the liberty to speak to him, and said, “Commander of the faithful, will your majesty give me leave to ask whence proceeds this melancholy, of which you always seemed to me so little susceptible?”

“Indeed, vizier,” answered the caliph, brightening up his countenance, “I am very little subject to it, and had not perceived it but for you, but I will remain no longer in this hippish mood.  If no new affair brought you hither, you will gratify me by inventing something to dispel it.”

“Commander of the faithful,” replied the grand vizier, “my duty obliged me to wait on you, and I take the liberty to remind your majesty, that this is the day which you have appointed to inform yourself of the good government of your capital and its environs; and this occasion very opportunely presents itself to dispel those clouds which obscure your natural gaiety.”

“You do well to remind me,” replied the caliph, “for I had entirely forgotten it; go and change your dress, while I do the same.”

They each put on the habit of a foreign merchant, and under that disguise went out by a private door of the palace-garden, which led into the country.  After they had gone round part of the city to the banks of the Euphrates, at some distance from the walls, without having observed anything disorderly, they crossed the river in the first boat they met, and making a tour on the other side, crossed the bridge, which formed the communication betwixt the two parts of the town.

At the foot of this bridge they met an old blind man, who asked alms of them; the caliph turned about, and put a piece of gold into his hand.  The blind man instantly caught hold of his hand, and stopped him; “Charitable person,” said he, “whoever you are, whom God hath inspired to bestow alms on me, do not refuse the favour I ask of you, to give me a box on the ear, for I deserve that, and a greater punishment.”  Having thus spoken, he let the caliph’s hand go, that he might strike, but for fear he should pass on without doing it, held him fast by his clothes.

The caliph, surprised both at the words and action of the blind man, said, “I cannot comply with your request.  I will not lessen the merit of my charity, by treating you as you would have me.”  After these words, he endeavoured to get away from the blind man.

The blind man, who expected this reluctance of his benefactor, exerted himself to detain him.  “Sir,” said he, “forgive my boldness and importunity; I desire you would either give me a box on the ear, or take your alms back again, for I cannot receive it but on that condition, without breaking a solemn oath, which I have sworn to God; and if you knew the reason, you would agree with me that the punishment is very slight.”

The caliph, unwilling to be detained any longer, yielded to the importunity of the blind man, and gave him a very slight blow:  whereupon he immediately let him go, thanked and blessed him.  When the caliph and vizier had got so me small distance from the blind man, the caliph said to Jaaffier, “This blind man must certainly have some very uncommon reasons, which make him behave himself in this manner to all who give him alms.  I should be glad to know them; therefore return, tell him who I am, and bid him not fail to come to my palace about prayer-time in the afternoon of to-morrow, that I may have some conversation with him.”

The grand vizier returned, bestowed his alms on the blind man, and after he had given him a box on the ear, told him the caliph’s order, and then returned to the caliph.

When they came into the town, they found in a square a great crowd of spectators, looking at a handsome well-shaped young man, who was mounted on a mare, which he drove and urged full speed round the place, spurring and whipping the poor creature so barbarously, that she was all over sweat and blood.

The caliph, amazed at the inhumanity of the rider, stopped to ask the people if they knew why he used the mare so ill; but could learn nothing, except that for some time past he had every day, at the same hour, treated her in the same manner.

At they went along, the caliph bade the grand vizier take particular notice of the place, and not fail to order the young man to attend the next day at the hour appointed to the blind man.  But before the caliph got to his palace, he observed in a street, which he had not passed through a long time before, an edifice newly built, which seemed to him to be the palace of some one of the great lords of the court.  He asked the grand vizier if he knew to whom it belonged; who answered he did not, but would inquire; and thereupon asked a neighbour, who told him that the house was that of one Khaujeh Hassan, surnamed Al Hubbaul, on account of his original trade of rope-making, which he had seen him work at himself, when poor; that without knowing how fortune had favoured him, he supposed he must have acquired great wealth, as he defrayed honourably and splendidly the expenses he had been at in building.

The grand vizier rejoined the caliph, and gave him a full account of what he had heard.  “I must see this fortunate rope-maker,” said the caliph, “therefore go and tell him to come to my palace at the same hour you have ordered the other two.”  Accordingly the vizier obeyed.

The next day, after afternoon prayers, the caliph retired to his own apartment, when the grand vizier introduced the three persons we have been speaking of, and presented them to the caliph.

They all three prostrated themselves before the throne, and when they rose up, the caliph asked the blind man his name, who answered, it was Baba Abdoollah.

“Baba Abdoollah,” replied the caliph, “your manner of asking alms seemed so strange to me yesterday, that if it had not been for some private considerations I should not have complied with your request, but should have prevented you from giving any more offence to the public.  I ordered you to come hither, to know from yourself what could have induced you to make the indiscreet oath you told me of, that I may judge whether you have done well, and if I ought to suffer you to continue a practice that appears to me to set so ill an example.  Tell me freely how so extravagant a thought came into your head, and do not disguise any thing from me, for I will absolutely know the truth.”

Baba Abdoollah, intimidated by this reprimand, cast himself a second time at the foot of the caliph’s throne, with his face to the ground, and when he rose up, said, “Commander of the faithful, I most humbly ask your majesty’s pardon for my presumption, in daring to have required, and almost forced you to do a thing which indeed appears so contrary to reason.  I acknowledge my offence, but as I did not then know your majesty, I implore your clemency, and hope you will consider my ignorance.

“As to the extravagance of my action, I own it, and own also that it must seem strange to mankind; but in the eye of God it is a slight penance I have enjoined myself for an enormous crime of which I have been guilty, and for which, if all the people in the world were each to give me a box on the ear, it would not be a sufficient atonement.  Your majesty will judge of this yourself, when, in telling my story, in obedience to your commands I shall inform you what that heinous crime was.”

The Story of Baba Abdoollah.

Commander of the faithful, I was born at Bagdad, had a moderate fortune left me by my father and mother, who died within a few days of each other.  Though I was then but young, I did not squander away my fortune as most young men do, in idle expenses and debauchery; on the contrary, I neglected no opportunity to increase it by my industry.  At last I became rich enough to purchase fourscore camels, which I let out to merchants for caravans, who paid me well for every journey I went with them throughout the extent of your majesty’s dominions.

In the midst of this prosperity, and with an ardent desire of growing much richer, as I was returning one day with my camels unloaded from Bussorah, whither I had carried some bales that were to be embarked for the Indies, I met with good pasturage, at some distance from any habitation; made a halt, and let my beasts graze for some time.  While I was seated, a dervish, who was walking to Bussorah, came and sat down by me to rest himself:  I asked him whence he came, and where he was going; he put the same questions to me:  and when we had satisfied each other’s curiosity, we produced our provisions and ate together.

During our repast, after we had talked on many indifferent subjects, the dervish told me that he knew of a spot a small distance from thence, where there were such immense riches, that if all my fourscore camels were loaded with the gold and jewels that might be taken from it, they would not be missed.

This intelligence surprised and charmed me; and I was so overjoyed, that I could scarcely contain myself.  I could not believe that the dervish was capable of telling me a falsehood; therefore I fell upon his neck, and said, “Good dervish, I know you value not the riches of this world, therefore of what service can the knowledge of this treasure be to you?  You are alone, and cannot carry much of it away; shew me where it is, I will load all my camels, and as an acknowledgment of the favour done me, will present you with one of them.”

Indeed I offered very little, but after he had communicated the secret to me, my desire of riches was become so violent, that I thought it a great deal, and looked upon the seventy-nine camel loads which I reserved for myself as nothing in comparison of what I allowed him.

The dervish, though he saw my avarice, was not however angry at the unreasonable return I proposed to make him, but replied without the least concern, “You are sensible, brother, that what you offer me is not proportionable to the valuable favour you ask of me.  I might have chosen whether I would communicate my secret to you or not, and have kept the treasure to myself:  but what I have told you is sufficient to shew my good intentions; it is in my power to oblige you, and make both our fortunes.  I have, however, another proposition more just and equitable to make to you; it lies in your own breast whether or no you will agree to it.

“You say,” continued the dervish, “that you have fourscore camels:  I am ready to conduct you to the place where the treasure lies, and we will load them with as much jewels and gold as they can carry, on condition that when they are so loaded you will let me have one half, and you be contented with the other; after which we will separate, and take our camels where we may think fit.  You see there is nothing but what is strictly equitable in this division; for if you give me forty camels, you will procure by my means wherewithal to purchase thousands.”

I could not but agree there was a great deal of justice in what the dervish said:  but without considering what riches I should gain in accepting of the condition he proposed, I could not without reluctance think of parting with my forty camels, especially when I reflected that the dervish would then be as rich as myself.  Avarice made me unmindful that I was beforehand making an ungrateful return for a favour, purely gratuitous.  But there was no time to hesitate; I must either accept of the proposal, or resolve to repent all my lifetime of losing, by my own fault, an opportunity of obtaining an immense fortune.  That instant I collected all my camels, and after we had travelled some time, we came into a valley, the pass into which was so narrow, that two camels could not go a-breast.  The two mountains which bounded this valley formed nearly a circle, but were so high, craggy, and steep, that there was no fear of our being seen by any body.

When we came between these two mountains, the dervish said to me, “Stop your camels, make them kneel that we may load them the easier, and I will proceed to discover the treasure.”

I did as the dervish directed; and going to him soon after, found him with a match in one hand, gathering sticks to light a fire; which he had no sooner done, than he cast some incense into it, and pronouncing certain words which I did not understand, there presently arose a thick cloud.  He divided this cloud, when the rock, though of a prodigious perpendicular height, opened like two folding doors, and exposed to view a magnificent palace in the hollow of the mountain, which I supposed to be rather the workmanship of genii than of men; for man could hardly have attempted such a bold and surprising work.

But this, I must tell your majesty, was an afterthought which did not occur to me at the moment; so eager was I for the treasures which displayed themselves to my view, that I did not even stop to admire the magnificent columns and arcades which I saw on all sides; and, without attention to the regularity with which the treasures were ranged, like an eagle seizing her prey, I fell upon the first heap of golden coin that was near me.  My sacks were all large, and with my good will I would have filled them all; but I was obliged to proportion my burden to the strength of my camels.  The dervish did the same; but I perceived he paid more attention to the jewels, and when he told me the reason, I followed his example, so that we took away much more jewels than gold.  When we had filled our sacks, and loaded our camels, we had nothing left to do but to shut up the treasure and go our way.

But before we parted, the dervish went again into the treasury, where there were a great many wrought vessels of gold of different forms.  I observed that he took out of one of these vessels a little box of a certain wood, which I knew not, and put it into his breast; but first shewed me that it contained only a kind of glutinous ointment.

The dervish used the same incantations to shut the treasury as he had done to open it; and after he pronounced certain words, the doors closed, and the rock seemed as solid and entire as before.

We now divided our camels.  I put myself at the head of the forty which I had reserved for myself, and the dervish placed himself at the head of the rest which I had given him.  We came out of the valley by the way we had entered, and travelled together till we came to the great road, where we were to part; the dervish to go to Bussorah, and I to Bagdad.  To thank him for so great a kindness, I made use of the most expressive terms, testifying my gratitude for the preference he had given me before all other men in letting me have a share of such riches.  We embraced each other with great joy, and taking our leave, pursued our different routes.

I had not gone far, following my camels, which paced quietly on in the track I had put them into, before the demon of ingratitude and envy took possession of my heart, and I deplored the loss of my other forty, but much more the riches wherewith they were loaded.  “The dervish,” said I to myself, “has no occasion for all this wealth, since he is master of the treasure, and may have as much as he pleases;” so I gave myself up to the blackest ingratitude, and determined immediately to take the camels with their loading from him.

To execute this design, I first stopped my own camels, then ran after the dervish, and called to him as loud as I could, giving him to understand that I had something material to say to him, and made a sign to him to stop, which he accordingly did.

When I came up to him, I said, “Brother, I had no sooner parted from you, but a thought came into my head, which neither of us had reflected on before.  You are a recluse dervish, used to live in tranquillity, disengaged from all the cares of the world, and intent only upon serving God.  You know not, perhaps, what trouble you have taken upon yourself, to take care of so many camels.  If you would take my advice, you would keep but thirty; you will find them sufficiently troublesome to manage.  Take my word; I have had experience.”

“I believe you are right,” replied the dervish, who found he was not able to contend with me; “I own I never thought of this.  I begin already to be uneasy at what you have stated.  Choose which ten you please, and take them, and go on in God’s keeping.”

I set ten apart, and after I had driven them off, I put them in the road to follow my others.  I could not have imagined that the dervish would be so easily persuaded to part with his camels, which increased my covetousness, and made me flatter myself, that it would be no hard matter to get ten more:  wherefore, instead of thanking him for his present, I said to him again; “Brother, the interest I take in your repose is so great, that I cannot resolve to part from you without desiring you to consider once more how difficult a thing it is to govern thirty loaded camels, especially for you who are not used to such work:  you will find it much better to return me as many more back as you have done already.  What I tell you is not for my own sake and interest, but to do you the greater kindness.  Ease yourself then of the camels, and leave them to me, who can manage a hundred as well as one.”

My discourse had the desired effect upon the dervish, who gave me, without any hesitation, the other ten camels; so that he had but twenty left and I was master of sixty, and might boast of greater riches than any sovereign princes.  Any one would have thought I should now have been content; but as a person afflicted with a dropsy, the more he drinks the more thirsty he is, so I became more greedy and desirous of the other twenty camels.

I redoubled my solicitations and importunities, to make the dervish condescend to grant me ten of the twenty, which he did with a good grace:  and as to the other ten he had left, I embraced him, kissed his feet, and caressed him, conjuring him not to refuse me, but to complete the obligation I should ever have to him, so that at length he crowned my joy, by giving me them also.  “Make a good use of them, brother,” said the dervish, “and remember that God can take away riches as well as give them, if we do not assist the poor, whom he suffers to be in want, on purpose that the rich may merit by their charity a recompense in the other world.”

My infatuation was so great that I could not profit by such wholesome advice.  I was not content, though I had my forty camels again, and knew they were loaded with an inestimable treasure.  But a thought came into my head, that the little box of ointment which the dervish shewed me had something in it more precious than all the riches which I was obliged to him for:  the place from whence the dervish took it, said I to myself, and his care to secure it, makes me believe there is something mysterious in it.  This determined me to obtain it.  I had just embraced him and bade him adieu; but as I turned about from him, I said, “What will you do with that little box of ointment?  It seems such a trifle, it is not worth your carrying away.  I entreat you to make me a present of it; for what occasion has a dervish, as you are, who has renounced the vanities of the world, for perfumes, or scented ointments?”

Would to heaven he had refused me that box; but if he had, I was stronger than he, and resolved to have taken it from him by force; that for my complete satisfaction it might not be said he had carried away the smallest part of the treasure.

The dervish, far from denying me, readily pulled it out of his bosom, and presenting it to me with the best grace in the world, said, “Here, take it, brother, and be content; if I could do more for you, you needed but to have asked me; I should have been ready to satisfy you.”

When I had the box in my hand, I opened it, and looking at the ointment, said to him, “Since you are so good, I am sure you will not refuse me the favour to tell me the particular use of this ointment.”

“The use is very surprising and wonderful,” replied the dervish:  “if you apply a little of it round the left eye, and upon the lid, you will see at once all the treasures contained in the bosom of the earth; but if you apply it to the right eye, it will make you blind.”

“I would make the experiment myself.  Take the box,” said I to the dervish, “and apply some to my left eye.  You understand how to do it better than I, and I long to experience what seems so incredible.”  Accordingly I shut my left eye, and the dervish took the trouble to apply the unguent; I opened my eye, and was convinced he had told me truth.  I saw immense treasures, and such prodigious riches, so diversified, that it is impossible for me to give an account of them; but as I was obliged to keep my right eye shut with my hand, and that tired me, I desired the dervish to apply some of the pomatum to that eye.

“I am ready to do it,” said the dervish; “but you must remember what I told you, that if you put any of it upon your right eye, you would immediately be blind; such is the virtue of the ointment.”

Far from being persuaded of the truth of what the dervish said, I imagined, on the contrary, that there was some new mystery, which he meant to hide from me.  “Brother,” replied I, smiling, “I see plainly you wish to mislead me; it is not natural that this ointment should have two such contrary effects.”

“The matter is as I tell you,” replied the dervish, taking the name of God to bear witness; “you ought to believe me, for I cannot disguise the truth.”

I would not believe the dervish, who spoke like an honest man.  My insurmountable desire of seeing at my will all the treasures in the world and perhaps of enjoying those treasures to the extent I coveted, had such an effect upon me, that I could not hearken to his remonstrances, nor be persuaded of what was however but too true, as to my lasting misfortune I soon experienced.

I persuaded myself that if the ointment, by being applied to the left eye, had the virtue of shewing me all the treasures of the earth, by being applied to the right, it might have the power of putting them in my disposal.  Possessed with this thought, I obstinately pressed the dervish to apply the ointment to my right eye; but he as positively refused.  “Brother,” said he, “after I have done you so much service, I cannot resolve to do you so great an injury; consider with yourself what a misfortune it is to be deprived of one’s eye-sight:  do not reduce me to the hard necessity of obliging you in a thing which you will repent of all your life.”

I persisted in my obstinacy, and said to him in strong terms, “Brother, I earnestly desire you to lay aside all your difficulties.  You have granted me most generously all that I have asked of you hitherto, and would you have me go away dissatisfied with you at last about a thing of so little consequence?  For God’s sake grant me this last favour; whatever happens I will not lay the blame on you, but take it upon myself alone.”

The dervish made all the resistance possible, but seeing that I was able to force him to do it, he said, “Since you will absolutely have it so, I will satisfy you;” and thereupon he took a little of the fatal ointment, and applied it to my right eye, which I kept shut; but alas! when I came to open it, I could distinguish nothing with either eye but thick darkness, and became blind as you see me now.

“Ah! dervish,” I exclaimed in agony, “what you forewarned me of has proved but too true.  Fatal curiosity,” added I, “insatiable desire of riches, into what an abyss of miseries have they cast me!  I am now sensible what a misfortune I have brought upon myself; but you, dear brother,” cried I, addressing myself to the dervish, “who are so charitable and good, among the many wonderful secrets you are acquainted with, have you not one to restore to me my sight again?”

“Miserable wretch!” answered the dervish, “if you would have been advised by me, you would have avoided this misfortune, but you have your deserts; the blindness of your mind was the cause of the loss of your eyes.  It is true I have secrets, some of which, during the short time we have been together, you have by my liberality witnessed; but I have none to restore to you your sight.  Pray to God, therefore, if you believe there is one; it is he alone that can restore it to you.  He gave you riches, of which you were unworthy, on that account takes them from you again, and will by my hands give them to men not so ungrateful as yourself.”

The dervish said no more, and I had nothing to reply.  He left me to myself overwhelmed with confusion, and plunged in inexpressible grief.  After he had collected my camels, he drove them away, and pursued the road to Bussorah.

I cried out loudly as he was departing, and entreated him not to leave me in that miserable condition, but to conduct me at least to the first caravanserai; but he was deaf to my prayers and entreaties.  Thus deprived of sight and all I had in the world, I should have died with affliction and hunger, if the next day a caravan returning from Bussorah had not received me charitably, and brought me back to Bagdad.

After this manner was I reduced without remedy from a condition worthy the envy of princes for riches and magnificence, though not for power, to beggary without resource.  I had no other way to subsist but by asking charity, which I have done till now.  But to expiate my offence against God, I enjoined myself, by way of penance, a box on the ear from every charitable person who should commiserate my condition.

“This, commander of the faithful, is the motive which seemed so strange to your majesty yesterday, and for which I ought to incur your indignation.  I ask your pardon once more as your slave, and submit to receive the chastisement I deserve.  And if you vouchsafe to pronounce any thing beyond the penance I have imposed upon myself, I am ready to undergo it, since I am persuaded you must think it too slight and much too little for my crime.”

The blind man having concluded his story, the caliph said, “Baba Abdoollah, your sin has been great; but God be praised, you feel the enormity of your guilt, and your penance proves your repentance.  You must continue it, not ceasing to ask of God pardon in every prayer your religion obliges you to say daily:  but that you may not be prevented from your devotions by the care of getting your living, I will settle a charity on you during your life, of four silver dirhems a day, which my grand vizier shall give you daily with the penance, therefore do not go away, but wait till he has executed my orders.”

At these words, Baba Abdoollah prostrated himself before the caliph’s throne, returned him thanks, and wished him all happiness and prosperity.

The caliph, very well satisfied with the story of Baba Abdoollah and the dervish, addressed himself to the young man who used his mare so ill, and asked him his name; to which he replied, it was Syed Naomaun.

“Syed Naomaun,” resumed the caliph, “I have seen horses exercised all my life, and have often exercised them myself, but never in so barbarous a manner as you yesterday treated your mare in the full square, to the great offence of all the spectators, who murmured loudly at your conduct.  I myself was not less displeased, and had nearly, contrary to my intention, discovered who I was, to have punished your cruelty.  By your air and behaviour you do not seem to be a barbarous or cruel man; and therefore I would fain believe that you had reason for what you did, since I am informed that this was not the first time, but that you practise the same treatment every day.  I would know what is the cause, and sent for you for that purpose, that you should tell me the truth, and disguise nothing from me.”

Syed Naomaun understood what the caliph demanded of him.  The relation was painful to him.  He changed colour several times, and could not help shewing how greatly he was embarrassed.  However, he must resolve to tell his story; but before he spoke, he prostrated himself before the caliph’s throne, and after he rose up, endeavoured to speak to satisfy the caliph, but was so confounded, not so much at the presence of the caliph, as by the nature of his relation, that he was speechless.

The caliph, notwithstanding his natural impatience to be obeyed, shewed not the least anger at Syed Naomaun’s silence:  he saw plainly, that he either had not assurance to speak before him, or was intimidated by the tone of his voice; or, in short, that there was something to be concealed in his story.

“Syed Naomaun,” said the caliph, to encourage him, “recollect yourself, but tell your story as if you were speaking not to me, but to your most familiar friend.  If there is any thing in your relation which troubles you, and you think I may be offended at it, I pardon you beforehand:  therefore be not uneasy, but speak boldly and freely, and disguise nothing.”

Syed Naomaun, encouraged by these words, said, “Commander of the faithful, whatever apprehensions a man may be under at your majesty’s presence, I am sensible those respectful sensations would not deprive me of the use of my speech, so as to fail in my obedience, in giving you satisfaction in any other matter but this you now ask of me.  I dare not say I am the most perfect of men; yet I am not wicked enough to have committed, or to have had an intention of committing any thing against the laws to fear their severity; and yet I cannot say I am exempt from sin through ignorance.  In this case I do not say that I depend upon your majesty’s pardon, but will submit myself to your justice, and receive the punishment I deserve.  I own, that the manner in which I have for some time treated my mare, and which your majesty has witnessed, is strange, and sets an ill example:  but I hope you will think the motive well grounded, and that I am more worthy of compassion than chastisement:  but not to keep your majesty any longer in suspense by a long preamble, I will tell you my story.”

The Story of Syed Naomaun.

I shall not trouble your majesty with my birth, which is not illustrious enough to merit your attention.  For my situation, my parents, by their good economy, left me enough to live on like an honest man, free from ambition, or being burdensome to any one.

With these advantages, the only blessing I wanted to render my happiness complete was an amiable wife, who might share them with me; but that was a blessing it did not please God to grant me:  on the contrary, it was my misfortune to have one, who, the very next day after our wedding, began to exercise my patience in a manner not to be conceived by any one who has not had the same trial.

As it is the custom for us to marry without seeing or knowing whom we are to espouse, your majesty is sensible that a husband has no reason to complain, when he finds that the wife who has been chosen for him is not horribly ugly and deformed, and that her carriage, wit, and behaviour make amends for any slight bodily imperfections.

The first time I saw my wife with her face uncovered, after she was brought home with the usual ceremonies to my house, I rejoiced to find that I had not been imposed upon in the description of her person, which pleased me, and she was perfectly agreeable to my inclination.

The next day after our wedding, when our dinner was served up, which consisted of several dishes, I went into the room where the cloth was laid, and not finding my wife there, ordered her to be called.  After making me wait a long time, she came.  I dissembled my impatience, we sat down, and I began with the rice, which I took up as usual.

On the other hand, my wife, instead of using her hand as everybody does, pulled a little case out of her pocket, and took out of it a kind of bodkin, with which she picked up the rice, and put it into her mouth, grain by grain.

Surprised at this manner of eating, I said to her, “Ameeneh,” (which was her name,) “are you used to eat rice so in your family, or do you do it because you are a little eater, or would you count the grains, that you may not eat more at one time than another?  If you do it out of frugality, or to teach me not to be extravagant, you have no reason to fear, as I can assure you we shall not ruin ourselves that way.  We have, God be thanked! enough to live at our ease, without depriving ourselves of necessaries.  Do not restrain yourself, my dear Ameeneh, but eat as you see me eat.”  The kind manner in which I made these remonstrances might have produced some obliging answer; but she, without saying a word, continued to eat as she had begun.  At last, to make me the more uneasy, she ate a grain of rice at intervals only; and instead of eating any of the other meats with me, she only now and then put some crumbs of bread into her mouth, but not so much as a sparrow would have pecked.

I was much provoked at her obstinacy; but yet, to indulge and excuse her, I imagined that she had not been used to eat with men, before whom she might perhaps have been taught to restrain herself; but at the same time thought she carried it too far out of pure simplicity.  I fancied again that she might have breakfasted late, or that she might have a wish to eat alone, and more at liberty.  These considerations prevented me from saying more to her then, to ruffle her temper, by shewing any sign of dissatisfaction.  After dinner I left her, but not with an air that shewed any displeasure.

At supper, and the next day, and every time we ate together, she behaved herself in the same manner.  I knew it was impossible for a woman to live on so little food as she took, and that there must be some mystery in her conduct, which I did not understand.  This made me resolve to dissemble; I appeared to take no notice of her actions, in hopes that time would bring her to live with me as I desired she should.  But my hopes were in vain, and it was not long before I was convinced they were so.

One night, when Ameeneh thought me fast asleep, she got out of bed softly, dressed herself with great precaution, not to make a noise for fear of awaking me.  I could not comprehend her design, but curiosity made me feign a sound sleep.  As soon as she had dressed herself, she went softly out of the room.

When she was gone, I arose, threw my cloak over my shoulders, and had time enough to see from a window that looked into my court-yard, that she opened the street-door and went out.

I immediately ran down to the door, which she had left half open, and followed her by moonlight, till I saw her enter a burying-ground just by our house.  I got to the end of the wall, taking care not to be seen, and looking over, saw Ameeneh with a ghoul.

Your majesty knows that the ghouls of both sexes are wandering demons, which generally infest old buildings; from whence they rush out, by surprise, on people that pass by, kill them, and eat their flesh; and for want of such prey, will sometimes go in the night into burying-grounds, and feed on dead bodies which they dig up.

I was struck with astonishment and horror to see my wife with this ghoul.  They dug up a dead body which had been buried but that day, and the ghoul cut off pieces of the flesh, which they ate together by the grave-side, conversing during their shocking and inhuman repast.  But I was too far off to hear their discourse, which must have been as strange as their meal, the remembrance of which still makes me shudder.

When they had finished this horrible feast, they threw the remains of the dead body into the grave again, and filled it up with the earth which they had dug out.  I left them at their work, made haste home, and leaving the door half open as I had found it, went into my chamber, and to bed again, where I pretended to be fast asleep.

Soon afterwards Ameeneh returned without the least noise, undressed herself, and came to bed, rejoicing, as I imagined, that she had succeeded so well without being discovered.

My mind was so full of the idea of such an abominable action as I had witnessed, that I felt great reluctance to lie by a person who could have had any share in the guilt of it, and was a long time before I could fall asleep.  However, I got a short nap; but waked at the first call to public prayers at day-break, got up, dressed myself, and went to the mosque.

After prayers I went out of the town, spent the morning in walking in the gardens, and thinking what I should do to oblige my wife to change her mode of living.  I rejected all the violent measures that suggested themselves to my thoughts, and resolved to use gentle means to cure her unhappy and depraved inclination.  In this state of reverie I insensibly reached home by dinner-time.

As soon as Ameeneh saw me enter the house, she ordered dinner to be served up; and as I observed she continued to eat her rice in the same manner, by single grains, I said to her, with all the mildness possible, “You know, Ameeneh, what reason I had to be surprised, when the day after our marriage I saw you eat rice in so small a quantity, and in a manner which would have offended any other husband but myself:  you know also, I contented myself with telling you that I was uneasy at it, and desired you to eat of the other meats, which I had ordered to be dressed several ways to endeavour to suit your taste, and I am sure my table did not want for variety:  but all my remonstrances have had no effect, and you persist in your sullen abstemiousness.  I have said nothing, because I would not constrain you, and should be sorry that any thing I now say should make you uneasy; but tell me, Ameeneh, I conjure you, are not the meats served up at my table better than the flesh of a human corpse?”

I had no sooner pronounced these words than Ameeneh, who perceived that I had discovered her last night’s horrid voraciousness with the ghoul, flew into a rage beyond imagination.  Her face became as red as scarlet, her eyes ready to start out of her head, and she foamed with passion.

The terrible state in which she appeared alarmed me so much, that I stood motionless, and was not able to defend myself against the horrible wickedness she meditated against me, and which will surprise your majesty.  In the violence of her passion, she dipped her hand into a basin of water, which stood by her, and muttering between her teeth some words, which I could not hear, she threw some water in my face, and exclaimed, in a furious tone, “Wretch, receive the punishment of thy prying curiosity, and become a dog!”

Ameeneh, whom I did not before know to be a sorceress, had no sooner pronounced these diabolical words, than I was immediately transformed into a dog.  My amazement and surprise at so sudden and unexpected a metamorphosis prevented my thinking at first of providing for my safety.  Availing herself of this suspense, she took up a great stick, with which she laid on me such heavy blows, that I wonder they did not kill me.  I thought to have escaped her rage, by running into the yard; but she pursued me with the same fury, and notwithstanding all my activity I could not avoid her blows.  At last, when she was tired of running after and beating me, and enraged that she had not killed me, as she desired, she thought of another method to effect her purpose:  she half opened the street-door, that she might endeavour to squeeze me to death, as I ran out to preserve my life.  Dog as I was, I instantly perceived her pernicious design; and as present danger inspires a presence of mind, to elude her vigilance I watched her face and motions so well, that I took my opportunity, and passed through quick enough to save myself and escape her malice, though she pinched the end of my tail.

The pain I felt made me cry out and howl as I ran along the streets, which collected all the dogs about me, and I got bit by several of them; but to avoid their pursuit, I ran into the shop of a man who sold boiled sheep’s heads, tongues, and feet, where I saved myself.

The man at first took my part with much compassion, by driving away the dogs that followed me, and would have run into his house.  My first care was to creep into a corner to hide myself; but I found not the sanctuary and protection I hoped for.  My host was one of those extravagantly superstitious persons who think dogs unclean creatures, and if by chance one happens to touch them in the streets, cannot use soap and water enough to wash their garments clean.  After the dogs who chased me were all dispersed and gone, he did all he could to drive me out of his house, but I was concealed out of his reach, and spent that night in his shop in spite of him; and indeed I had need of rest to recover from Ameeneh’s ill-treatment.

Not to weary your majesty with trifling circumstances, I shall not particularize the melancholy reflections I made on my metamorphosis; but only tell you, that my host having gone out the next morning to lay in a stock of sheep’s heads, tongues, and trotters, when he returned, he opened his shop, and while he was laying out his goods, I crept from my corner, and got among some other dogs of the neighbourhood, who had followed my host by the scent of his meat, and surrounded the shop, in expectation of having some offal thrown to them.  I joined them, and put myself among them in a begging posture.  My host observing me, and considering that I had eaten nothing while I lay in the shop, distinguished me from the rest, by throwing me larger pieces of meat, and oftener than the other dogs.  After he had given me as much as he thought fit, I looked at him earnestly, and wagged my tail, to shew him I begged he would repeat his favours.  But he was inflexible, and opposed my entrance with a stick in his hand, and with so stern a look, that I felt myself obliged to seek a new habitation.

I stopped at the shop of a baker in the neighbourhood, who was of a lively gay temper, quite the reverse of the offal butcher.  He was then at breakfast, and though I made no sign that I wanted any thing, threw me a piece of bread.  Instead of catching it up greedily, as dogs usually do, I looked at him, moving my head and wagging my tail, to shew my gratitude; at which he was pleased, and smiled.  Though I was not hungry, I ate the piece of bread to please him, and I ate slowly to shew him that it was out of respect to him.  He observed this, and permitted me to continue near the shop.  I sat down and turned myself to the street, to shew him I then only wanted his protection; which he not only granted, but by his caresses encouraged me to come into the house.  This I did in a way that shewed it was with his leave.  He was pleased, and pointed me out a place where to lie, of which I took possession, and kept while I lived with him.  I was always well treated; and whenever he breakfasted, dined, or supped, I had my share of provisions; and, in return, I loved him, and was faithful, as gratitude required of me.  I always had my eyes upon him, and he scarcely stirred out of doors, or went into the city on business, but I was at his heels.  I was the more exact, because I perceived my attention pleased him; for whenever he went out, without giving me time to see him, he would call Chance, which was the name he gave me.

At this name I used to spring from my place, jump, caper, run before the door, and never cease fawning on him, till he went out; and then I always either followed him, or ran before him, continually looking at him to shew my joy.

I had lived some time with this baker, when a woman came one day into the shop to buy some bread, who gave my master a piece of bad money among some good, which he returned, and requested her to exchange.

The woman refused to take it again, and affirmed it to be good.  The baker maintained the contrary, and in the dispute told the woman, he was sure that the piece of money was so visibly bad, that his dog could distinguish it; upon which he called me by name.  I immediately jumped on the counter, and the baker throwing the money down before me, said, “See, and tell me which of these pieces is bad?” I looked over all the pieces of money, and then set my paw upon that which was bad, separated it from the rest, looking in my master’s face, to shew it him.

The baker, who had only called me to banter the woman, was much surprised to see me so immediately pitch upon the bad money.  The woman thus convicted had nothing to say for herself, but was obliged to give another piece instead of the bad one.  As soon as she was gone, my master called in some neighbours, and enlarged very much on my capacity, telling them what had happened.

The neighbours desired to make the experiment, and of all the bad money they shewed me, mixed with good, there was not one which I did not set my paw upon, and separate from the rest.

The woman also failed not to tell everybody she met what had happened; so that the fame of my skill in distinguishing good money from bad was not only spread throughout the neighbourhood, but over all that part of the town, and insensibly through the whole city.

I had business enough every day; for I was obliged to shew my skill to all customers who came to buy bread of my master.  In short, my reputation procured my master more business than he could manage, and brought him customers from the most distant parts of the town; this run of business lasted so long, that he owned to his friends and neighbours, that I was a treasure to him.

My little knowledge made many people envy my master’s good fortune, and lay snares to steal me away, which obliged him always to keep me in his sight.  One day a woman came like the rest out of curiosity to buy some bread, and seeing me sit upon the counter, threw down before me six pieces of money, among which was one that was bad.  I separated it presently from the others, and setting my paw upon it, looked in the woman’s face, as much as to say, “Is it not so?” The woman looking at me replied, “Yes, you are in the right, it is bad:”  and staying some time in the shop, to look at and admire me, at last paid my master for his bread, but when she went out of the shop, made a sign, unknown to him, for me to follow her.

I was always attentive to any means likely to deliver me out of so strange a metamorphosis, and had observed that the woman examined me with an extraordinary attention.  I imagined that she might know something of my misfortune, and the melancholy condition I was reduced to:  however, I let her go, and contented myself with looking at her.  After walking two or three steps, she turned about, and seeing that I only looked at her, without stirring from my place, made me another sign to follow her.

Without deliberating any longer, and observing that my master was busy cleaning his oven, and did not mind me, I jumped off the counter, and followed the woman, who seemed overjoyed.

After we had gone some way, she stopped at a house, opened the door, and called to me to come in, saying, “You will not repent following me.”  When I had entered, she shut the door, and conducted me to her chamber, where I saw a beautiful young lady working embroidery.  This lady, who was daughter to the charitable woman who had brought me from the baker’s, was a very skilful enchantress, as I found afterwards.

“Daughter,” said the mother, “I have brought you the much-talked-of baker’s dog, that can tell good money from bad.  You know I gave you my opinion respecting him when I first heard of him, and told you, I fancied he was a man changed into a dog by some wicked magician.  To-day I determined to go to that baker for some bread, and was myself a witness of the wonders performed by this dog, who has made such a noise in Bagdad.  What say you, daughter, am I deceived in my conjecture?” “Mother, you are not,” answered the daughter, “and I will disenchant him immediately.”

The young lady arose from her sofa, put her hand into a basin of water, and throwing some upon me, said, “If thou wert born a dog, remain so, but if thou wert born a man, resume thy former shape, by the virtue of this water.”  At that instant the enchantment was broken, and I became restored to my natural form.

Penetrated with the greatness of this kindness, I threw myself at my deliverer’s feet; and after I had kissed the hem of her garment, said, “My dear deliverer, I am so sensible of your unparalleled humanity towards a stranger, as I am, that I beg of you to tell me yourself what I can do to shew my gratitude; or rather dispose of me as a slave, to whom you have a just right, since I am no more my own, but entirely yours:  and that you may know who I am, I will tell you my story in as few words as possible.”

After I had informed her who I was, I gave her an account of my marriage with Ameeneh, of the complaisance I had shewn her, my patience in bearing with her humour, her extraordinary behaviour, and the savage inhumanity with which she had treated me out of her inconceivable wickedness, and finished my story with my transformation, and thanking her mother for the inexpressible happiness she had procured me.

“Syed Naomaun,” said the daughter to me, “let us not talk of the obligation you say you owe me; it is enough for me that I have done any service to so honest a man.  But let us talk of Ameeneh your wife.  I was acquainted with her before your marriage; and as I know her to be a sorceress, she also is sensible that I have some of the same kind of knowledge as herself, since we both learnt it of the same mistress.  We often meet at the baths, but as our tempers are different, I avoid all opportunities of contracting an intimacy with her, which is no difficult matter, as she does the same by me.  I am not at all surprised at her wickedness:  but what I have already done for you is not sufficient; I must complete what I have begun.  It is not enough to have broken the enchantment by which she has so long excluded you from the society of men.  You must punish her as she deserves, by going home again, and assuming the authority which belongs to you.  I will give you the proper means.  Converse a little with my mother till I return to you.”

My deliveress went into a closet, and while she was absent, I repeated my obligations to the mother as well as the daughter.  She said to me, “You see my daughter has as much skill in the magic art as the wicked Ameeneh; but makes such use of it, that you would be surprised to know the good she has done, and daily does, by exercising her science.  This induces me to let her practise it; for I should not permit her, if I perceived she made an improper application of it in the smallest instance.”

The mother then related some of the wonders she had seen her perform:  by this time the daughter returned with a little bottle in her hand.  “Syed Naomaun,” said she, “my books which I have been consulting tell me that Ameeneh is now abroad, but will be at home presently.  They also inform me that she pretended before your servants to be very uneasy at your absence, and made them believe, that at dinner you recollected some business which obliged you to go out immediately; that as you went, you left the door open, and a dog running into the hall where she was at dinner, she had beaten him out with a great stick.

“Take this little bottle, go home immediately, and wait in your own chamber till Ameeneh comes in, which she will do shortly.  As soon as she returns, run down into the court, and meet her face to face.  In her surprise at seeing you so unexpectedly, she will turn her back to run away; have the bottle ready, and throw some of the liquor it contains upon her, pronouncing at the same time these words:  ‘Receive the chastisement of thy wickedness.’  I will tell you no more; you will see the effect.”

After these instructions I took leave of my benefactress, and her mother, with all the testimonies of the most perfect gratitude, and a sincere protestation never to forget my obligation to them; and then went home.

All things happened as the beautiful and humane enchantress had foretold.  Ameeneh was not long before she came home.  As she entered the court, I met her with the bottle in my hand.  Upon seeing me, she shrieked; and as she turned to run towards the door, I threw the liquor upon her, pronouncing the words which the young lady had taught me, when she was instantly transformed into the mare which your majesty saw me upon yesterday.

At that instant, owing to the surprise she was in, I easily seized her by the mane, and notwithstanding her resistance, led her into the stable, where I put a halter upon her head, and when I had tied her to the rack, reproaching her with her baseness, I chastised her with a whip till I was tired, and have punished her every day since in the manner which your majesty has witnessed.

“I hope, commander of the faithful,” concluded Syed Naomaun, “your majesty will not disapprove of my conduct, but will rather think I have shewn so wicked and pernicious a woman more indulgence than she deserved.”

When the caliph found that Syed Naomaun had ended his story, he said to him, “Your adventure is very singular, and the wickedness of your wife inexcusable; therefore I do not condemn the chastisement you have hitherto given her; but I would have you consider how great a punishment it is to be reduced to the condition of beasts, and wish you would be content with the chastisement you have already inflicted.  I would order you to go and address yourself to the young enchantress, to end the metamorphosis she has inflicted, but that I know the obstinacy and incorrigible cruelty of magicians of both sexes, who abuse their art; which makes me apprehensive that a second effect of your wife’s revenge might be more fatal than the first.”

The caliph, who was naturally mild and compassionate to all criminals, after he had declared his mind to Syed Naomaun, addressed himself to the third person the grand vizier had summoned to attend him.  “Khaujeh Hassan,” said he, “passing yesterday by your house, it seemed so magnificent that I felt a curiosity to know to whom it belonged, and was told that you, whose trade is so mean that a man can scarcely get his bread by it, have built this house after you had followed this trade some years.  I was likewise informed that you make a good use of the riches God has blessed you with, and your neighbours speak well of you.

“All this pleases me well,” added the caliph, “but I am persuaded that the means by which Providence has been pleased to bestow these gifts on you must have been very extraordinary.  I am curious to know the particulars from your own mouth, and sent for you on purpose to have that satisfaction.  Speak truly, that when I know your story, I may rejoice in your good fortune.

“But that you may not suspect my curiosity, and believe I have any other interest than what I tell you, I declare, that far from having any pretensions, I give you my word you shall enjoy freely all you possess.”

On these assurances of the caliph, Khaujeh Hassan prostrated himself before the throne, with his forehead down to the carpet, and when he rose up, said, “Commander of the faithful, some persons might have been alarmed at having been summoned to appear before your majesty; but knowing that my conscience was clear, and that I had committed nothing against the laws or your majesty, but, on the contrary, had always the most respectful sentiments and the profoundest veneration for your person, my only fear was, that I should not be able to support the splendour of your presence.  But nevertheless on the public report of your majesty’s receiving favourably, and hearing the meanest of your subjects, I took courage, and never doubted but I should have confidence enough to give you all the satisfaction you might require of me.  Besides, your majesty has given me a proof of your goodness, by granting me your protection before you know whether I deserve it.  I hope, however, you will retain the favourable sentiments you have conceived of me, when, in obedience to your command, I shall have related my adventures.”

After this compliment to conciliate the caliph’s good-will and attention, and after some moments’ recollection, Khaujeh Hassan related his story in the following manner:

The Story of Khaujeh Hassan al Hubbaul.

Commander of the faithful, that your majesty may the better understand by what means I arrived at the happiness I now enjoy, I must acquaint you, there are two intimate friends, citizens of Bagdad, who can testify the truth of what I shall relate, and to whom, after God, the author of all good, I owe my prosperity.

These two friends are called, the one Saadi, the other Saad.  Saadi, who is very rich, was always of opinion that no man could be happy in this world without wealth, to live independent of every one.

Saad was of a different opinion; he agreed that riches were necessary to comfort, but maintained that the happiness of a man’s life consisted in virtue, without any farther eagerness after worldly goods than what was requisite for decent subsistence, and benevolent purposes.

Saad himself is one of this number, and lives very happily and contentedly in his station:  but though Saadi is infinitely more opulent, their friendship is very sincere, and the richest sets no more value on himself than the other.  They never had any dispute but on this point; in all other things their union of opinion has been very strict.

One day as they were talking upon this subject, as I have since been informed by them both, Saadi affirmed, that poverty proceeded from men’s being born poor, or spending their fortunes in luxury and debauchery, or by some of those unforeseen fatalities which do not often occur.  “My opinion,” said he, “is, that most people’s poverty is owing to their wanting at first a sufficient sum of money to raise them above want, by employing their industry to improve it; for,” continued he, “if they once had such a sum, and made a right use of it, they would not only live well, but would in time infallibly grow rich.”

Saad could not agree in this sentiment:  “The way,” said he, “which you propose to make a poor man rich, is not so certain as you imagine.  Your plan is very hazardous, and I can bring many good arguments against your opinion, but that they would carry us too far into dispute, I believe, with as much probability, that a poor man may become rich by other means as well as by money:  and there are people who have raised as large and surprising fortunes by mere chance, as others have done by money, with all their good economy and management to increase it by the best conducted trade.”

“Saad,” replied Saadi, “I see we shall not come to any determination by my persisting to oppose my opinion against yours.  I will make an experiment to convince you, by giving, for example, a sum of money to some artisan, whose ancestors from father to son have always been poor, lived only from day to day, and died as indigent as they were born.  If I have not the success I expect, you shall try if you will have better by the means you shall employ.”

Some days after this dispute, the two friends happened to walk out together, and passing through the street where I was at work at my trade of rope-making, which I learnt of my father, who learnt of his, and he of his ancestors; and by my dress and appearance, it was no hard matter for them to guess my poverty.

Saad, remembering Saadi’s engagement, said, “If you have not forgotten what you said to me, there is a man,” pointing to me, “whom I can remember a long time working at his trade of rope-making, and in the same poverty:  he is a worthy subject for your liberality, and a proper person to make your experiment upon.”  “I so well remember the conversation,” replied Saadi, “that I have ever since carried a sufficient sum about me for the purpose, but only waited for an opportunity of our being together, that you might be witness of the fact.  Let us go to him, and know if he is really necessitous.”

The two friends came to me, and I, seeing that they wished to speak to me, left off work:  they both accosted me with the common salutation, and Saadi, wishing me peace, asked me my name.

I returned their salutation, and answered Saadi’s question, saying to him, “Sir, my name is Hassan; but by reason of my trade, I am commonly known by the name of Hassan al Hubbaul.”

“Hassan,” replied Saadi, “as there is no occupation but what a man may live by, I doubt not but yours produces enough for you to live well upon; and I am amazed, that during the long time you have worked at your trade, you have not saved enough to lay in a good stock of hemp to extend your manufacture and employ more hands, by the profit of whose work you would soon increase your income.”

“Sir,” replied I, “you will be no longer amazed that I have not saved money and taken the way you mention to become rich, when you come to know that, let me work as hard as I may from morning till night, I can hardly get enough to keep my family in bread and pulse.  I have a wife and five children, not one of whom is old enough to be of the least assistance to me.  I must feed and clothe them, and in our poor way of living, they still want many necessaries, which they can ill do without And though hemp is not very dear, I must have money to buy it.  This is the first thing I do with any money I receive for my work; otherwise I and my family must starve.

“Now judge, sir,” added I, “if it be possible that I should save any thing for myself and family:  it is enough that we are content with the little God sends us, and that we have not the knowledge or desire of more than we want, but can live as we have been always bred up, and are not reduced to beg.”

When I had given Saadi this account, he said to me, “Hassan, I am not so much surprised as I was, for I comprehend what obliges you to be content in your station.  But if I should make you a present of a purse of two hundred pieces of gold, would not you make a good use of it? and do not you believe, that with such a sum you could become soon as rich as the principal of your occupation?”

“Sir,” replied I, “you seem to be so good a gentleman, that I am persuaded you would not banter me, but that the offer you make me is serious; and I dare say, without presuming too much upon myself, that a considerably less sum would be sufficient to make me not only as rich as the first of our trade, but that in time I should be richer than all of them in this city together, though Bagdad is so large and populous.”

The generous Saadi showed me immediately that in what he said he was serious.  He pulled a purse out of his bosom, and putting it into my hands, said, “Here, take this purse; you will find it contains two hundred pieces of gold:  I pray God bless you with them, and give you grace to make the good use of them I desire; and believe me, my friend Saad, whom you see here, and I shall both take great pleasure in finding they may contribute towards making you more happy than you now are.”

When I had got the purse, the first thing I did was to put it into my bosom; but the transport of my joy was so great, and I was so much penetrated with gratitude, that my speech failed me and I could give my benefactor no other tokens of my feelings than by laying hold of the hem of his garment and kissing it; but he drew it from me hastily, and he and his friend pursued their walk.

As soon as they were gone, I returned to my work, and my first thought was, what I should do with my purse to keep it safe.  I had in my poor house neither box nor cupboard to lock it up in, nor any other place where I could be sure it would not be discovered if I concealed it.

In this perplexity, as I had been used, like many poor people of my condition, to put the little money I had in the folds of my turban, I left my work, and went into the house, under pretence of wrapping my turban up anew.  I took such precautions that neither my wife nor children saw what I was doing.  But first I laid aside ten pieces of gold for present necessaries, and wrapped the rest up in the folds of the linen which went about my cap.

The principal expense I was at that day was to lay in a good stock of hemp, and afterwards, as my family had eaten no flesh meat a long time, I went to the shambles, and bought something for supper.

As I was carrying home the meat I had bought, a famished vulture flew upon me, and would have taken it away, if I had not held it very fast; but, alas!  I had better have parted with it than lost my money; the faster I held my meat, the more the bird struggled to get it, drawing me sometimes on one side, and sometimes on another, but would not quit the prize; till unfortunately in my efforts my turban fell on the ground.

The vulture immediately let go his hold, but seizing my turban, flew away with it.  I cried out so loud, that I alarmed all the men, women, and children in the neighbourhood, who joined their shouts and cries to make the vulture quit his hold; for by such means these voracious birds are often frightened so as to quit their prey.  But our cries did not avail; he carried off my turban, and we soon lost sight of him, and it would have been in vain for me to fatigue myself with running after him.

I went home very melancholy at the loss of my money.  I was obliged to buy a new turban, which diminished the small remainder of the ten pieces; for I had laid out several in hemp.  The little that was left was not sufficient to give me reason to indulge the great hopes I had conceived.

But what troubled me most, was the little satisfaction I should be able to give my benefactor for his ineffectual generosity, when he should come to hear what a misfortune I had met with, which he would perhaps regard as incredible, and consequently an idle excuse.

While the remainder of the ten pieces lasted, my little family and I lived better than usual; but I soon relapsed into the same poverty, and the same inability to extricate myself from wretchedness.  However, I never murmured nor repined; “God,” said I, “was pleased to give me riches when I least expelled them; he has thought fit to take them from me again almost at the same time, because it so pleased him, and they were at his disposal; yet I will praise his name for all the benefits I have received, as it was his good pleasure, and submit myself, as I have ever done hitherto, to his will.”

These were my sentiments, while my wife, from whom I could not keep secret the loss I had sustained, was inconsolable.  In my trouble I had told my neighbours, that when I lost my turban I lost a hundred and ninety pieces of gold; but as they knew my poverty, and could not comprehend how I should have got so great a sum by my work, they only laughed at me.

About six months after this misfortune, which I have related to your majesty, the two friends walking through that part of the town where I lived, the neighbourhood brought me to Saad’s recollection.  “We are now,” said he to Saadi, “not far from the street where Hassan the ropemaker lives; let us call and see what use he has made of the two hundred pieces of gold you gave him, and whether they have enabled him to take any steps towards bettering his fortune.”

“With all my heart,” replied Saadi; “I have been thinking of him some days, and it will be a great pleasure and satisfaction to me to have you with me, as a witness of the proof of my argument.  You will see undoubtedly a great alteration.  I expect we shall hardly know him again.”

Just as Saadi said this, the two friends turned the corner of the street, and Saad, who perceived me first at a distance, said to his friend, “I believe you reckon without your host.  I see Hassan, but can discern no change in his person, for he is as shabbily dressed as when we saw him before; the only difference that I can perceive is, that his turban looks something better.  Observe him yourself, and see whether I am in the wrong.”

As they drew nearer to me, Saadi saw me too, and found Saad was in the right, but could not tell to what he should attribute the little alteration he saw in my person; and was so much amazed, that he could not speak when he came up to me.  “Well, Hassan,” said Saad, “we do not ask you how affairs go since we saw you last; without doubt they are in a better train.”

“Gentlemen,” replied I, addressing myself to them both, “I have the great mortification to tell you, that your desires, wishes, and hopes, as well as mine, have not had the success you had reason to expect, and I had promised myself; you will scarcely believe the extraordinary adventure that has befallen me.  I assure you nevertheless, on the word of an honest man, and you ought to believe me, for nothing is more true than what I am going to tell you.”  I then related to them my adventure, with the same circumstances I had the honour to tell your majesty.

Saadi rejected my assertion, and said, “Hassan, you joke, and would deceive me; for what you say is a thing incredible.  What have vultures to do with turbans?  They only search for something to satisfy their hunger.  You have done as all such people as yourself generally do.  If they have made any extraordinary gain, or any good fortune happens to them, which they never expected, they throw aside their work, take their pleasure, make merry, while the money lasts; and when they have eaten and drunk it all out, are reduced to the same necessity and want as before.  You would not be so miserable, but because you deserve it, and render yourself unworthy of any service done to you.”

“Sir,” I replied, “I bear all these reproaches, and am ready to bear as many more, if they were more severe, and all with the greater patience because I do not think I deserve them.  The thing is so publicly known in this part of the town, that there is nobody but can satisfy you of the truth of my assertions.  If you inquire, you will find that I do not impose upon you.  I own, I never heard of vultures flying away with turbans; but this has actually happened to me, like many other things, which do not fall out every day, and yet have actually happened.”

Saad took my part, and told Saadi a great many as surprising stories of vultures, some of which he affirmed he knew to be true, insomuch that at last he pulled his purse out of his vestband, and counted out two hundred pieces of gold into my hand, which I put into my bosom for want of a purse.

When Saadi had presented me with this sum, he said, “Hassan, I make you a present of these two hundred pieces; but take care to put them in a safer place, that you may not lose them so unfortunately as you have done the others, and employ them in such a manner that they may procure you the advantages which the others would have done.”  I told him that the obligation of this his second kindness was much greater than I deserved, after what had happened, and that I should be sure to make good use of his advice.  I would have said a great deal more, but he did not give me time, for he went away, and continued his walk with his friend.

As soon as they were gone, I left off work, and went home, but finding neither my wife nor children within, I pulled out my money, put ten pieces by, and wrapped up the rest in a clean linen cloth, tying it fast with a knot; but then I was to consider where I should hide this linen cloth that it might be safe.  After I had considered some time, I resolved to put it in the bottom of an earthen vessel full of bran, which stood in a corner, which I imagined neither my wife nor children would look into.  My wife came home soon after, and as I had but little hemp in the house, I told her I should go out to buy some, without saying any thing to her about the two friends.

While I was absent, a sandman, who sells scouring earth for the hair and body, which women use in the baths, passed through our street, and called, “Cleansing, ho!” My wife, who wanted some, beckoned to him:  but as she had no money, asked him if he would make an exchange of some earth for some bran.  The sandman asked to see the bran.  My wife shewed him the pot; the bargain was made; she had the cleansing earth, with which she filled a dust hole I had made to the house, and the sandman took the pot and bran along with him.

Not long after I came home with as much hemp as I could carry, and followed by five porters loaded also with hemp.  After I had satisfied them for their trouble, I sat down to rest myself; and looking about me, could not see the pot of bran.

It is impossible for me to express to your majesty my surprise and the effect it had on me at the moment.  I asked my wife hastily what was become of it; when she told me the bargain she had made with the sandman, which she thought to be a very good one.

“Ah! unfortunate woman!” cried I, “you know not the injury you have done me, yourself, and our children, by making that bargain, which has ruined us for ever.  You thought you only sold the bran, but with the bran you have enriched the sandman with a hundred and ninety pieces of gold, which Saadi with his friend came and made me a second present of.”

My wife was like one distracted, when she knew what a fault she had committed through ignorance.  She cried, beat her breast, and tore her hair and clothes.  “Unhappy wretch that I am,” cried she, “am I fit to live after so dreadful a mistake!  Where shall I find this sandman?  I know him not, I never saw him in our street before.  Oh! husband,” added she, “you were much to blame to be so reserved in a matter of such importance This had never happened, if you had communicated the secret to me.”  In short, I should never finish my story were I to tell your majesty what her grief made her say.  You are not ignorant how eloquent women often are in their afflictions.

“Wife,” said I, “moderate your grief:  by your weeping and howling you will alarm the neighbourhood, and there is no reason they should be informed of our misfortunes.  They will only laugh at, instead of pitying us.  We had best bear our loss patiently, and submit ourselves to the will of God, and bless him, for that out of two hundred pieces of gold which he had given us, he has taken back but a hundred and ninety, and left us ten, which, by the use I shall make of them will be a great relief to us.”

My wife at first did not relish my arguments; but as time softens the greatest misfortunes, and makes them more supportable, she at last grew easy, and had almost forgotten them.  “It is true,” said I to her, “we live but poorly; but what have the rich which we have not?  Do not we breathe the same air, enjoy the same light and the same warmth of the sun?  Therefore what conveniences have they more than we, that we should envy their happiness?  They die as well as we.  In short, while we live in the fear of God, as we should always do, the advantage they have over us is so very inconsiderable, that we ought not to covet it.”

I will not tire your majesty any longer with my moral reflections.  My wife and I comforted ourselves, and I pursued my trade with as much alacrity as before these two mortifying losses, which followed one another so quickly.  The only thing that troubled me sometimes was, how I should look Saadi in the face when he should come and ask me how I had improved his two hundred pieces of gold, and advanced my fortune by means of his liberality.  I saw no remedy but to resolve to submit to the confusion I should feel, though it was by no fault of mine this time, any more than before, that our misfortune had happened.

The two friends stayed away longer this time than the former, though Saad had often spoken to Saadi, who always put it off; for, said he, “The longer we stay away, the richer Hassan will be, and I shall have the greater satisfaction.”

Saad, who had not the same opinion of the effect of his friend’s generosity, replied, “You fancy then that your last present will have been turned to a better account than the former.  I would advise you not to flatter yourself too much, for fear you may be more sensibly mortified if it should prove otherwise.”  “Why,” replied Saadi, “vultures do not fly away with turbans every day; and Hassan will have been more cautious this time.”

“I do not doubt it,” replied Saad; “but,” added he, “there are other accidents that neither you nor I can think of; therefore, I say again, moderate your expectations, and do not depend too much on Hassan’s success; for to tell you what I think, and what I always thought (whether you like to hear it or not), I have a secret presentiment that you will not have accomplished your purpose, and that I shall succeed better in proving that a poor man may sooner become rich by other means than money.”

One day, when Saad and Saadi were disputing upon this subject, Saad observed that enough had been said; “I am resolved,” continued he, “to inform myself this very day what has passed; it is a pleasing time for walking, let us not lose it, but go and see which of us has lost the wager.”  I saw them at a distance, was overcome with confusion, and was just going to leave my work, to run and hide myself.  However I refrained, appeared very earnest at work, made as if I had not seen them, and never lifted up my eyes till they were close to me and had saluted me, and then I could not help myself.  I hung down my head, told them my last misfortune, with all the circumstances, and that I was as poor as when they first saw me.

“After that,” I added, “you may say that I ought to have hidden my money in another place than in a pot of bran, which was carried out of my house the same day:  but that pot had stood there many years, and had never been removed, whenever my wife parted with the bran.  Could I guess that a sandman should come by that very day, my wife have no money, and would make such an exchange?  You may indeed allege, that I ought to have told my wife of it; but I will never believe that such prudent persons, as I am persuaded you are, would have given me that advice; and if I had put my money anywhere else, what certainty could I have had that it would be more secure?”

“I see, sir,” said I, addressing myself to Saadi, “that it has pleased God, whose ways are secret and impenetrable, that I should not be enriched by your liberality, but that I must remain poor:  however, the obligation is the same as if it had wrought the desired effect.”

After these words I was silent; and Saadi replied, “Though I would persuade myself, Hassan, that all you tell us is true, and not owing to your debauchery or ill management, yet I must not be extravagant, and ruin myself for the sake of an experiment.  I do not regret in the least the four hundred pieces of gold I gave you to raise you in the world.  I did it in duty to God, without expecting any recompense but the pleasure of doing good.  If any thing makes me repent, it is, that I did not address myself to another, who might have made a better use of my charity.”  Then turning about to his friend, “Saad,” continued he, “you may know by what I have said that I do not entirely give up the cause.  You may now make your experiment, and let me see that there are ways, besides giving money, to make a poor man’s fortune.  Let Hassan be the man.  I dare say, whatever you may give him he will not be richer than he was with four hundred pieces of gold.”  Saad had a piece of lead in his hand, which he shewed Saadi.  “You saw me,” said he, “take up this piece of lead, which I found on the ground; I will give it Hassan, and you shall see what it is worth.”

Saadi, burst out laughing at Saad.  “What is that bit of lead worth,” said he, “a farthing?  What can Hassan do with that?” Saad presented it to me, and said, “Take it, Hassan; let Saadi laugh, you will tell us some news of the good luck it has brought you one time or another.”  I thought Saad was in jest, and had a mind to divert himself:  however I took the lead, and thanked him.  The two friends pursued their walk, and I fell to work again.

At night when I pulled off my clothes to go to bed, the piece of lead, which I had never thought of from the time he gave it me, tumbled out of my pocket.  I took it up, and laid it on the place that was nearest me.  The same night it happened that a fisherman, a neighbour, mending his nets, found a piece of lead wanting; and it being too late to buy any, as the shops were shut, and he must either fish that night, or his family go without bread the next day, he called to his wife and bade her inquire among the neighbours for a piece.  She went from door to door on both sides of the street, but could not get any, and returned to tell her husband her ill success.  He asked her if she had been to several of their neighbours, naming them, and among the rest my house.  “No indeed,” said the wife, “I have not been there; that was too far off, and if I had gone, do you think I should have found any?  I know by experience they never have any thing when one wants it.”  “No matter,” said the fisherman, “you are an idle hussy; you must go there; for though you have been there a hundred times before without getting any thing, you may chance to obtain what we want now.  You must go.”

The fisherman’s wife went out grumbling, came and knocked at my door, and waked me out of a sound sleep.  I asked her what she wanted.  “Hassan,” said she, as loud as she could bawl, “my husband wants a bit of lead to load his nets with; and if you have a piece, desires you to give it him.”

The piece of lead which Saad had given me was so fresh in my memory, and had so lately dropped out of my clothes, that I could not forget it.  I told my neighbour I had some; and if she would stay a moment my wife should give it to her.  Accordingly, my wife, who was wakened by the noise as well as myself, got up, and groping about where I directed her, found the lead, opened the door, and gave it to the fisherman’s wife, who was so overjoyed that she promised my wife, that in return for the kindness she did her and her husband, she would answer for him we should have the first cast of the nets.

The fisherman was so much rejoiced to see the lead, which he so little expected, that he much approved his wife’s promise.  He finished mending his nets, and went a-fishing two hours before day, according to custom.  At the first throw he caught but one fish, about a yard long, and proportionable in thickness; but afterwards had a great many successful casts; though of all the fish he took none equalled the first in size.

When the fisherman had done fishing, he went home, where his first care was to think of me.  I was extremely surprised, when at my work, to see him come to me with a large fish in his hand.  “Neighbour,” said he, “my wife promised you last night, in return for your kindness, whatever fish I should catch at my first throw; and I approved her promise.  It pleased God to send me no more than this one for you, which, such as it is, I desire you to accept.  I wish it had been better.  Had he sent me my net full, they should all have been yours.”

“Neighbour,” said I, “the bit of lead which I sent you was such a trifle, that it ought not to be valued at so high a rate:  neighbours should assist each other in their little wants.  I have done no more for you than I should have expected from you had I been in your situation; therefore I would refuse your present, if I were not persuaded you gave it me freely, and that I should offend you; and since you will have it so, I take it, and return you my hearty thanks.”

After these civilities, I took the fish, and carried it home to my wife.  “Here,” said I, “take this fish, which the fisherman our neighbour has made me a present of, in return for the bit of lead he sent to us for last night:  I believe it is all we can expect from the present Saad made me yesterday, promising me that it would bring me good luck;” and then I told her what had passed between the two friends.

My wife was much startled to see so large a fish.  “What would you have me do with it?” said she.  “Our gridiron is only fit to broil small fish; and we have not a pot big enough to boil it.”  “That is your business,” answered I; “dress it as you will, I shall like it either way.”  I then went to my work again.

In gutting the fish, my wife found a large diamond, which, when she washed it, she took for a piece of glass:  indeed she had heard talk of diamonds, but if she had ever seen or handled any she would not have known how to distinguish them.  She gave it to the youngest of our children for a plaything, and his brothers and sisters handed it about from one to another, to admire its brightness and beauty.

At night when the lamp was lighted, and the children were still playing with the diamond, they perceived that it gave a light, when my wife, who was getting them their supper, stood between them and the lamp; upon which they snatched it from one another to try it; and the younger children fell a-crying, that the elder would not let them have it long enough.  But as a little matter amuses children, and makes them squabble and fall out, my wife and I took no notice of their noise, which presently ceased, when the bigger ones supped with us, and my wife had given the younger each their share.

After supper the children got together again, and began to make the same noise.  I then called to the eldest to know what was the matter, who told me it was about a piece of glass, which gave a light when his back was to the lamp.  I bade him bring it to me, made the experiment myself, and it appeared so extraordinary, that I asked my wife what it was.  She told me it was a piece of glass, which she had found in gutting the fish.

I thought no more than herself but that it was a bit of glass, but I was resolved to make a farther experiment of it; and therefore bade my wife put the lamp in the chimney, which she did, and still found that the supposed piece of glass gave so great a light, that we might see to go to bed without the lamp.  So I put it out, and placed the bit of glass upon the chimney to light us.  “Look,” said I, “this is another advantage that Saad’s piece of lead procures us:  it will spare us the expense of oil.”

When the children saw the lamp was put out, and the bit of glass supplied the place, they cried out so loud, and made so great a noise from astonishment, that it was enough to alarm the neighbourhood; and before my wife and I could quiet them we were forced to make a greater noise, nor could we silence them till we had put them to bed; where after talking a long while in their way about the wonderful light of a bit of glass, they fell asleep.  After they were asleep, my wife and I went to bed by them; and next morning, without thinking any more of the glass, I went to my work as usual; which ought not to seem strange for such a man as I, who had never seen any diamonds, or if I had, never attended to their value.

But before I proceed, I must tell your majesty that there was but a very slight partition-wall between my house and my next neighbour’s, who was a very rich Jew, and a jeweller; and the chamber that he and his wife lay in joined to ours.  They were both in bed, and the noise my children made awakened them.

The next morning the jeweller’s wife came to mine to complain of being disturbed out of their first sleep.  “Good neighbour Rachel,” (which was the Jew’s wife’s name,) said my wife, “I am very sorry for what happened, and hope you will excuse it:  you know it was caused by the children, and they will laugh and cry for a trifle.  Come in, and I will shew you what was the occasion of the noise.”

The Jewess went in with her, and my wife taking the diamond (for such it really was, and a very extraordinary one) out of the chimney, put it into her hands.  “See here,” said she, “it was this piece of glass that caused all the noise;” and while the Jewess, who understood all sorts of precious stones, was examining the diamond with admiration, my wife told her how she found it in the fish’s belly, and what happened.

“Indeed, Ayesha,” (which was my wife’s name,) said the jeweller’s wife, giving her the diamond again, “I believe as you do it is a piece of glass; but as it is more beautiful than common glass, and I have just such another piece at home, I will buy it, if you will sell it.”

The children, who heard them talking of selling their plaything, presently interrupted their conversation, crying and begging their mother not to part with it, who, to quiet them, promised she would not.

The Jewess being thus prevented in her intended swindling bargain by my children, went away, but first whispered my wife, who followed her to the door, if she had a mind to sell it, not to shew it to anybody without acquainting her.

The Jew went out early in the morning to his shop in that part of the town where the jewellers sell their goods.  Thither his wife followed, and told him the discovery she had made.  She gave him an account of the size and weight of the diamond as nearly as she could guess, also of its beauty, water, and lustre, and particularly of the light which it gave in the night according to my wife’s account, which was the more credible as she was uninformed.

The Jew sent his wife immediately to treat, to offer her a trifle at first, as she should think fit, and then to raise her price by degrees; but be sure to bring it, cost what it would.  Accordingly his wife came again to mine privately, and asked her if she would take twenty pieces of gold for the piece of glass she had shown her.

My wife, thinking the sum too considerable for a mere piece of glass as she had thought it, would not make any bargain; but told her, she could not part with it till she had spoken to me.  In the mean time I came from my work to dinner.  As they were talking at the door, my wife stopped me, and asked if I would sell the piece of glass she had found in the fish’s belly for twenty pieces of gold, which our neighbour offered her.  I returned no answer; but reflected immediately on the assurance with which Saad, in giving me the piece of lead, told me it would make my fortune.  The Jewess, fancying that the low price she had offered was the reason I made no reply, said, “I will give you fifty, neighbour, if that will do.”

As soon as I found that she rose so suddenly from twenty to fifty, I told her that I expected a great deal more.  “Well, neighbour,” said she, “I will give you a hundred, and that is so much, I know not whether my husband will approve my offering it.”  At this new advance, I told her I would have a hundred thousand pieces of gold for it; that I saw plainly that the diamond, for such I now guessed it must be, was worth a great deal more, but to oblige her and her husband, as they were neighbours, I would limit myself to that price, which I was determined to have; and if they refused to give it, other jewellers should have it, who would give a great deal more.

The Jewess confirmed me in this resolution, by her eagerness to conclude a bargain; and by coming up at several biddings to fifty thousand pieces, which I refused.  “I can offer you no more,” said she, “without my husband’s consent.  He will be at home at night; and I would beg the favour of you to let him see it, which I promised.”

At night when the Jew came home, his wife told him what she had done; that she had got no forwarder with my wife or me; that she offered, and I had refused, fifty thousand pieces of gold; but that I had promised to stay till night at her request.  He observed the time when I left off work, and came to me.  “Neighbour Hassan”, said he, “I desire you would shew me the diamond your wife shewed to mine.”  I brought him in, and shewed it to him.  As it was very dark, and my lamp was not lighted, he knew instantly, by the light the diamond gave, and by the lustre it cast in my hand, that his wife had given him a true account of it.  He looked at and admired it a long time.  “Well, neighbour,” said he, “my wife tells me she offered you fifty thousand pieces of gold:  I will give you twenty thousand more.”

“Neighbour,” said I, “your wife can tell you that I valued my diamond at a hundred thousand pieces, and I will take nothing less.”  He haggled a long time with me, in hopes that I would make some abatement:  but finding at last that I was positive, and for fear that I should shew it to other jewellers, as I certainly should have done, he would not leave me till the bargain was concluded on my own terms.  He told me that he had not so much money at home, but would pay it all to me on the morrow, that very instant fetched two bags of a thousand pieces each, as an earnest; and the next day, though I do not know how he raised the money, whether he borrowed it of his friends, or let some other jewellers into partnership with him, he brought me the sum we had agreed for at the time appointed, and I delivered to him the diamond.

Having thus sold my diamond, and being rich, infinitely beyond my hopes, I thanked God for his bounty; and would have gone and thrown myself at Saad’s feet to express my gratitude, if I had known where he lived; as also at Saadi’s, to whom I was first obliged, though his good intention had not the same success.

Afterwards I thought of the use I ought to make of so considerable a sum.  My wife, with the vanity natural to her sex, proposed immediately to buy rich clothes for herself and children; to purchase a house, and furnish it handsomely.  I told her we ought not to begin with such expenses; “for,” said I, “money should only be spent, so that it may produce a fund from which we may draw without its failing.  This I intend, and shall begin to-morrow.”

I spent all that day and the next in going to the people of my own trade, who worked as hard every day for their bread as I had done; and giving them money beforehand, engaged them to work for me in different sorts of rope-making, according to their skill and ability, with a promise not to make them wait for their money, but to pay them as soon as their work was done.

By this means I engrossed almost all the business of Bagdad, and everybody was pleased with my exactness and punctual payment.

As so great a number of workmen produced, as your majesty may judge, a large quantity of work, I hired warehouses in several parts of the town to hold my goods, and appointed over each a clerk, to sell both wholesale and retail; and by this economy received considerable profit and income.  Afterwards, to unite my concerns in one spot, I bought a large house, which stood on a great deal of ground, but was ruinous, pulled it down, and built that your majesty saw yesterday, which, though it makes so great an appearance, consists, for the most part, of warehouses for my business, with apartments absolutely necessary for myself and family.

Some time after I had left my old mean habitation, and removed to this, Saad and Saadi, who had scarcely thought of me from the last time they had been with me, as they were one day walking together, and passing by our street, resolved to call upon me:  but great was their surprise when they did not see me at work.  They asked what was become of me, and if I was alive or dead.  Their amazement was redoubled, when they were told I was become a great manufacturer, and was no longer called plain Hassan, but Khaujeh Hassan al Hubbaul, and that I had built in a street, which was named to them, a house like a palace.

The two friends went directly to the street, and in the way, as Saadi could not imagine that the bit of lead which Saad had given me could have been the raising of my fortune, he said to him, “I am overjoyed to have made Hassan’s fortune:  but I cannot forgive the two lies he told me, to get four hundred pieces instead of two; for I cannot attribute it to the piece of lead you gave him.”

“So you think,” replied Saad:  “but so do not I. I do not see why you should do Khaujeh Hassan so much injustice as to take him for a liar.  You must give me leave to believe that he told us the truth, disguised nothing from us, that the piece of lead which I gave him is the cause of his prosperity:  and you will find he will presently tell us so.”

During their discourse the two friends came into the street where I lived, asked whereabouts my house stood; and being shewn it, could hardly believe it to be mine.

They knocked at the door, and my porter opened it; when Saadi, fearing to be guilty of rudeness in taking the house of a nobleman for that he was inquiring after, said to the porter, “We are informed that this is the house of Khaujeh Hassan al Hubbaul:  tell us if we are mistaken.”  “You are very right, sir,” said the porter, opening the door wider; “it is the same; come in; he is in the hall, and any of the slaves will point him out to you.”

I had no sooner set my eyes upon the two friends, than I knew them.  I rose from my seat, ran to them, and would have kissed the hem of their garments; but they would not suffer it, and embraced me.  I invited them to a sofa made to hold four persons, which was placed full in view of my garden.  I desired them to sit down, and they would have me take the place of honour.  I assured them I had not forgotten that I was poor Hassan the ropemaker, nor the obligations I had to them; but were this not the case, I knew the respect due to them, and begged them not to expose me.  They sat down in the proper place, and I seated myself opposite to them.

Then Saadi, addressing himself to me, said, “Khaujeh Hassan, I cannot express my joy to see you in the condition I wished you, when I twice made you a present of two hundred pieces of gold, for I mean not to upbraid you; though I am persuaded that those four hundred pieces have made this wonderful change in your fortune, which I behold with pleasure.  One thing only vexes me, which is, that you should twice disguise the truth from me, pretending that your losses were the effect of misfortunes which now seem to me more than ever incredible.  Was it not because, when we were together the last time, you had so little advanced your small income with the four hundred pieces of gold, that you were ashamed to own it?  I am willing to believe this, and wait to be confirmed in my opinion.”

Saad heard this speech of Saadi’s with impatience, not to say indignation, which he shewed by casting down his eyes and shaking his head:  he did not, however, interrupt him.  When he had done, he said to him, “Forgive me, Saadi, if I anticipate Khaujeh Hassan, before he answers you, to tell you, that I am vexed at your prepossession against his sincerity, and that you still persist in not believing the assurances he has already given you.  I have told you before, and I repeat it once more, that I believe those two accidents which befell him, upon his bare assertion; and whatever you may say, I am persuaded they are true; but let him speak himself, and say which of us does him justice.”

After this discourse of the two friends, I said, addressing myself to them both, “Gentlemen, I should condemn myself to perpetual silence, on the explanation you ask of me, if I were not certain the dispute you have had on my account cannot break that friendship which subsists between you; therefore I will declare to you the truth, since you require it; and with the same sincerity as before.”  I then told them every circumstance your majesty has heard, without forgetting the least.

All my protestations had no effect on Saadi, to cure him of his prejudice.  “Khaujeh Hassan,” replied he, “the adventure of the fish, and diamond found in his belly, appears to me as incredible as the vulture’s flying away with your turban, and the exchange of the scouring earth.  Be it as it may, I am equally convinced that you are no longer poor, but rich as I intended you should be, by my means; and I rejoice sincerely.”

As it grew late, they arose up to depart; when I stopped them, and said, “Gentlemen, there is one favour I have to ask; I beg of you not to refuse to do me the honour to stay and take a slight supper with me, also a bed to-night, and to-morrow I will carry you by water to a small country-house, which I bought for the sake of the air, and we will return the same day on my horses.”

“If Saad has no business that calls him elsewhere,” said Saadi, “I consent.”  Saad told him that nothing should prevent his enjoying his company.  We have only to send a slave to my house, that we may not be waited for.  I provided a slave; and while they were giving him their orders, I went and ordered supper.

While it was getting ready, I shewed my benefactors my house, and all my offices, which they thought very extensive considering my fortune:  I call them both benefactors without distinction, because without Saadi, Saad would never have given me the piece of lead; and without Saad, Saadi would not have given me the four hundred pieces of gold.  Then I brought them back again into the hall, where they asked me several questions about my concerns; and I gave them such answers as satisfied them.

During this conversation, my servants came to tell me that supper was served up.  I led them into another hall, where they admired the manner in which it was lighted, the furniture, and the entertainment I had provided.  I regaled them also with a concert of vocal and instrumental music during the repast, and afterwards with a company of dancers, and other entertainments, endeavouring as much as possible to shew them my gratitude.

The next morning, as we had agreed to set out early to enjoy the fresh air, we repaired to the river-side by sun-rise, and went on board a pleasure-boat well carpeted that waited for us; and in less than an hour and a half, with six good rowers, and the stream, we arrived at my country house.

When we went ashore, the two friends stopped to observe the beauty of the architecture of my house, and to admire its advantageous situation for prospects, which were neither too much limited nor too extensive, but such as made it very agreeable.  I then conducted them into all the apartments, and shewed them the out-houses and conveniences; with all which they were very well pleased.

Afterwards we walked in the gardens, where what they were most struck with was a grove of orange and lemon trees, loaded with fruit and flowers, which were planted at equal distances, and watered by channels cut from a neighbouring stream.  The close shade, the fragrant smell which perfumed the air, the soft murmurings of the water, the harmonious notes of an infinite number of birds, and many other agreeable circumstances, struck them in such a manner, that they frequently stopped to express how much they were obliged to me for bringing them to so delightful a place, and to congratulate me on my great acquisitions, with other compliments.  I led them to the end of the grove, which was very long and broad, where I shewed them a wood of large trees, which terminated my garden, and afterwards a summer-house, open on all sides, shaded by a clump of palm-trees, but not so as to injure the prospect; I then invited them to walk in, and repose themselves on a sofa covered with carpets and cushions.

Two of my boys, whom I had sent into the country, with a tutor, for the air, had gone just then into the wood, and seeing a nest which was built in the branches of a lofty tree, they attempted to get at it; but as they had neither strength nor skill to accomplish their object, they shewed it to the slave who waited on them, and bade him climb the tree for it.  The slave, when he came to it, was much surprised to find it composed of a turban:  however he took it, brought it down, and shewed it to my children; and as he thought that I might like to see a nest that was so uncommon, he gave it to the eldest boy to bring to me.

I saw the children at a distance, coming back to us, overjoyed to have procured a nest.  “Father,” said the eldest, “we have found a nest in a turban.”  The two friends and I were very much surprised at the novelty; but I much more, when I recognized the turban to be that which the vulture had flown away with.  After I had examined it well, and turned it about, I said to my guests, “Gentlemen, have you memories good enough to remember the turban I had on the day you did me the honour first to speak to me?” “I do not think,” said Saad, “that either my friend or I gave any attention to it; but if the hundred and ninety pieces of gold are in it, we cannot doubt of it.”

“Sir,” replied I, “there is no doubt but it is the same turban; for besides that I know it perfectly well, I feel by the weight it is too heavy to be any other, and you will perceive this if you give yourself the trouble to take it in your hand.”  Then after taking out the birds, and giving them to the children, I put it into his hands, and he gave it to Saadi.  “Indeed,” said Saadi, “I believe it to be your turban; which I shall, however, be better convinced of when I see the hundred and ninety pieces of gold.”

“Now, sir,” added I, taking the turban again, “observe well before I unwrap it, that it is of no very fresh date in the tree; and the state in which you see it, and the nest so neatly made in it, without having been touched by the hand of man, are sufficient proofs that the vulture drops or laid it in the tree upon the day it was seized; and that the branches hindered it from falling to the ground.  Excuse my making this remark, since it concerns me so much to remove all suspicions of fraud.”  Saad backed me in what I urged; and said, “Saadi, this regards you and not me, for I am verily persuaded that Khaujeh Hassan does not impose upon us.”

While Saad was talking, I pulled off the linen cloth which was wrapped about the cap of the turban, and took out the purse, which Saadi knew to be the same he had given me.  I emptied it on the carpet before them, and said, “There, gentlemen, there is the money, count it, and see if it be right;” which Saad did, and found it to be one hundred and ninety pieces of gold.  Then Saadi, who could not deny so manifest a truth, addressing himself to me said, “I agree, Khaujeh Hassan, that this money could not serve to enrich you; but the other hundred and ninety pieces, which you would make me believe you hid in a pot of bran, might.”  “Sir,” answered I, “I have told you the truth in regard to both sums:  you would not have me retract, to make myself a liar.”

“Khaujeh Hassan,” said Saad, “leave Saadi to his own opinion; I consent with all my heart that he believes you are obliged to him for one part of your good fortune, by means of the last sum he gave you, provided he will agree that I contributed to the other half by the bit of lead, and will not pretend to dispute the valuable diamond found in the fish’s belly.”  “I agree to it,” answered Saadi, “but still you must give me liberty to believe that money is not to be amassed without money.”

“What,” replied Saad, “if chance should throw a diamond in my way worth fifty thousand pieces of gold, and I should have that sum given me for it, can it be said I got that sum by money?”

They disputed no farther at this time; we rose, and went into the house, just as dinner was serving up.  After dinner, I left my guests together, to pass away the heat of the day more at their liberty, and with great composure, while I went to give orders to my housekeeper and gardener.

Afterwards I returned to them again, and we talked of indifferent matters till it grew a little cooler; when we returned into the garden for fresh air, and stayed till sun-set.  We then mounted on horseback, and got to Bagdad by moonlight, two hours after, followed by one of my slaves.

It happened, I know not by what negligence of my servants, that we were then out of grain for the horses, and the storehouses were all shut up; when one of my slaves seeking about the neighbourhood for some, met with a pot of bran in a shop; bought the bran, and brought the pot along with him, promising to carry it back again the next day.  The slave emptied the bran, and dividing it with his hands among the horses, felt a linen cloth tied up, and very heavy; he brought the cloth to me in the condition that he found it, and presented it to me, telling me, that it might perhaps be the cloth he had often heard me talk of among my friends.

Overjoyed, I said to my two benefactors, “Gentlemen, it has pleased God that you should not part from me without being fully convinced of the truth of what I have assured you.  There are the other hundred and ninety pieces of gold which you gave me,” continued I, addressing myself to Saadi; “I know it well by the cloth, which I tied up with my own hands;” and then I told out the money before them.  I ordered the pot to be brought to me, knew it to be the same; and sent to my wife to ask if she recognized it, ordering them to say nothing to her of what had happened.  She knew it immediately, and sent me word that it was the same pot she had exchanged full of bran for the scouring-earth.

Saadi readily submitted, renounced his incredulity; and said to Saad, “I yield to you, and acknowledge that money is not always the means of becoming rich.”

When Saadi had spoken, I said to him, “I dare not propose to return you the three hundred and eighty pieces of gold which it hath pleased God should be found, to undeceive you as to the opinion of my honesty.  I am persuaded that you did not give them to me with an intention that I should return them; but as I ought to be content with what Providence has sent me from other quarters, and I do not design to make use of them; if you approve of my proposal, to-morrow I will give them to the poor, that God may bless us both.”

The two friends lay at my house that night also; and next day, after embracing me, returned home, well pleased with the reception I had given them, and to find I did not make an improper use of the riches Heaven had blessed me with.  I thanked them both, and regarded the permission they gave me to cultivate their friendship, and to visit them, as a great honour.

The caliph was so attentive to Khaujeh Hassan’s story, that he had not perceived the end of it, but by his silence.  “Khaujeh Hassan,” said he, “I have not for a long time heard any thing that has given me so much pleasure, as having been informed of the wonderful ways by which God gave thee thy riches to make thee happy in this world.  Thou oughtest to continue to return him thanks by the good use thou makest of his blessings.  I am glad I can tell thee, that the same diamond which made thy fortune is now in my treasury; and I am happy to learn how it came there:  but because there may remain in Saadi some doubts on the singularity of this diamond, which I esteem the most precious and valuable jewel I possess, I would have you carry him with Saad to my treasurer, who shall shew it them, to remove Saadi’s unbelief, and to let him see that money is not the only means of making a poor man rich in a short time, without labour.  I would also have you tell the keeper of my treasury this story, that he may have it put into writing, and that it may be kept with the diamond.”

After these words the caliph signified to Khaujeh Hassan, Syed Naomaun, and Baba Abdoollah, by bowing of his head, that he was satisfied with them; they all took their leaves, by prostrating themselves at the throne, and then retired.

The story of Ali Baba and the forty
robbers destroyed by A slave.

In a town in Persia, there lived two brothers, one named Cassim, the other Ali Baba.  Their father left them scarcely any thing; but as he had divided his little property equally between them, it should seem their fortune ought to have been equal; but chance determined otherwise.

Cassim married a wife who soon after became heiress to a large sum, and a warehouse full of rich goods; so that he all at once became one of the richest and most considerable merchants, and lived at his ease.

Ali Baba on the other hand, who had married a woman as poor as himself, lived in a very wretched habitation, and had no other means to maintain his wife and children but his daily labour of cutting wood, and bringing it upon three asses, which were his whole substance, to town to sell.

One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, and had just cut wood enough to load his asses, he saw at a distance a great cloud of dust, which seemed to be driven towards him:  he observed it very attentively, and distinguished soon after a body of horse.  Though there had been no rumour of robbers in that country, Ali Baba began to think that they might prove such, and without considering what might become of his asses, was resolved to save himself.  He climbed up a large, thick tree, whose branches, at a little distance from the ground, were so close to one another that there was but little space between them.  He placed himself in the middle, from whence he could see all that passed without being discovered; and the tree stood at the base of a single rock, so steep and craggy that nobody could climb up it.

The troop, who were all well mounted and armed, came to the foot of this rock, and there dismounted.  Ali Baba counted forty of them, and, from their looks and equipage, was assured that they were robbers.  Nor was he mistaken in his opinion:  for they were a troop of banditti, who, without doing any harm to the neighbourhood, robbed at a distance, and made that place their rendezvous; but what confirmed him in his opinion was, that every man unbridled his horse, tied him to some shrub, and hung about his neck a bag of corn which they brought behind them.  Then each of them took his saddle wallet, which seemed to Ali Baba to be full of gold and silver from its weight.  One, who was the most personable amongst them, and whom he took to be their captain, came with his wallet on his back under the tree in which Ali Baba was concealed, and making his way through some shrubs, pronounced these words so distinctly, “Open, Sesame,” that Ali Baba heard him.  As soon as the captain of the robbers had uttered these words, a door opened in the rock; and after he had made all his troop enter before him, he followed them, when the door shut again of itself.

The robbers stayed some time within the rock, and Ali Baba, who feared that some one, or all of them together, might come out and catch him, if he should endeavour to make his escape, was obliged to sit patiently in the tree.  He was nevertheless tempted to get down, mount one of their horses, and lead another, driving his asses before him with all the haste he could to town; but the uncertainty of the event made him choose the safest course.

At last the door opened again, and the forty robbers came out.  As the captain went in last, he came out first, and stood to see them all pass by him; when Ali Baba heard him make the door close by pronouncing these words, “Shut, Sesame.”  Every man went and bridled his horse, fastened his wallet, and mounted again; and when the captain saw them all ready, he put himself at their head, and they returned the way they had come.

Ali Baba did not immediately quit his tree; for, said he to himself, they may have forgotten something and may come back again, and then I shall be taken.  He followed them with his eyes as far as he could see them; and afterwards stayed a considerable time before he descended.  Remembering the words the captain of the robbers used to cause the door to open and shut, he had the curiosity to try if his pronouncing them would have the same effect.  Accordingly, he went among the shrubs, and perceiving the door concealed behind them, stood before it, and said, “Open, Sesame.”  The door instantly flew wide open.

Ali Baba, who expected a dark dismal cavern, was surprised to see it well lighted and spacious, in form of a vault, which received the light from an opening at the top of the rock.  He saw all sorts of provisions, rich bales of silk, stuff, brocade, and valuable carpeting, piled upon one another; gold and silver ingots in great heaps, and money in bags.  The sight of all these riches made him suppose that this cave must have been occupied for ages by robbers, who had succeeded one another.

Ali Baba did not stand long to consider what he should do, but went immediately into the cave, and as soon as he had entered, the door shut of itself.  But this did not disturb him, because he knew the secret to open it again.  He never regarded the silver, but made the best use of his time in carrying out as much of the gold coin, which was in bags, at several times, as he thought his three asses could carry.  He collected his asses, which were dispersed, and when he had loaded them with the bags, laid wood over in such a manner that they could not be seen.  When he had done he stood before the door, and pronouncing the words, “Shut, Sesame,” the door closed after him, for it had shut of itself while he was within, but remained open while he was out.  He then made the best of his way to town.

When Ali Baba got home, he drove his asses into a little yard, shut the gates very carefully, threw off the wood that covered the bags, carried them into his house, and ranged them in order before his wife, who sat on a sofa.

His wife handled the bags, and finding them full of money, suspected that her husband had been robbing, insomuch that she could not help saying, “Ali Baba, have you been so unhappy as to______.”  “Be quiet, wife,” interrupted Ali Baba, “do not frighten yourself, I am no robber, unless he may be one who steals from robbers.  You will no longer entertain an ill opinion of me, when I shall tell you my good fortune.”  He then emptied the bags, which raised such a great heap of gold, as dazzled his wife’s eyes; and when he had done, told her the whole adventure from beginning to end; and, above all, recommended her to keep it secret.

The wife, cured of her fears, rejoiced with her husband at their good fortune, and would count all the gold, piece by piece.  “Wife,” replied Ali Baba, “you do not know what you undertake, when you pretend to count the money; you will never have done.  I will dig a hole, and bury it; there is no time to be lost”.  “You are in the right, husband,” replied she; “but let us know, as nigh as possible, how much we have.  I will borrow a small measure in the neighbourhood, and measure it, while you dig the hole.”  “What you are going to do is to no purpose, wife,” said Ali Baba; “if you would take my advice, you had better let it alone, but keep the secret, and do what you please.”

Away the wife ran to her brother-in-law Cassim, who lived just by, but was not then at home; and addressing herself to his wife, desired her to lend her a measure for a little while.  Her sister-in-law asked her, whether she would have a great or a small one?  The other asked for a small one.  She bade her stay a little, and she would readily fetch one.

The sister-in-law did so, but as she knew Ali Baba’s poverty, she was curious to know what sort of grain his wife wanted to measure, and artfully putting some suet at the bottom of the measure, brought it to her with an excuse, that she was sorry that she had made her stay so long, but that she could not find it sooner.

Ali Baba’s wife went home, set the measure upon the heap of gold, filled it and emptied it often upon the sofa, till she had done:  when she was very well satisfied to find the number of measures amounted to so many as they did, and went to tell her husband, who had almost finished digging the hole.  While Ali Baba was burying the gold, his wife, to shew her exactness and diligence to her sister-in-law, carried the measure back again, but without taking notice that a piece of gold had stuck to the bottom.  “Sister,” said she, giving it to her again, “you see that I have not kept your measure long; I am obliged to you for it, and return it with thanks.”

As soon as Ali Baba’s wife was gone, Cassim’s looked at the bottom of the measure, and was in inexpressible surprise to find a piece of gold stuck to it.  Envy immediately possessed her breast.  “What!” said she, “has Ali Baba gold so plentiful as to measure it?  Where has that poor wretch got all this wealth?” Cassim, her husband, was not at home, but at his counting-house, which he left always in the evening.  His wife waited for him, and thought the time an age; so great was her impatience to tell him the circumstance, at which she guessed he would be as much surprised as herself.

When Cassim came home, his wife said to him, “Cassim, I know you think yourself rich, but you are much mistaken; Ali Baba is infinitely richer than you; he does not count his money but measures it.”  Cassim desired her to explain the riddle, which she did, by telling him the stratagem she had used to make the discovery, and shewed him the piece of money, which was so old that they could not tell in what prince’s reign it was coined.

Cassim, instead of being pleased, conceived a base envy at his brother’s prosperity; he could not sleep all that night, and went to him in the morning before sun-rise.  Cassim, after he had married the rich widow, had never treated Ali Baba as a brother, but neglected him.  “All Baba,” said he, accosting him, “you are very reserved in your affairs; you pretend to be miserably poor, and yet you measure gold.”  “How, brother?” replied Ali Baba; “I do not know what you mean:  explain yourself.”  “Do not pretend ignorance,” replied Cassim, shewing him the piece of gold his wife had given him.  “How many of these pieces,” added he, “have you?  My wife found this at the bottom of the measure you borrowed yesterday.”

By this discourse, Ali Baba perceived that Cassim and his wife, through his own wife’s folly, knew what they had so much reason to conceal; but what was done could not be recalled; therefore, without shewing the least surprise or trouble, he confessed all, told his brother by what chance he had discovered this retreat of the thieves, in what place it was; and offered him part of his treasure to keep the secret.  “I expect as much,” replied Cassim haughtily; “but I must know exactly where this treasure is, and how I may visit it myself when I choose; otherwise I will go and inform against you, and then you will not only get no more, but will lose all you have, and I shall have a share for my information.”

Ali Baba, more out of his natural good temper, than frightened by the insulting menaces of his unnatural brother, told him all he desired, and even the very words he was to use to gain admission into the cave.

Cassim, who wanted no more of Ali Baba, left him, resolving to be beforehand with him, and hoping to get all the treasure to himself.  He rose the next morning, long before the sun, and set out for the forest with ten mules bearing great chests, which he designed to fill; and followed the road which Ali Baba had pointed out to him.  He was not long before he reached the rock, and found out the place by the tree, and other marks which his brother had given him.  When he reached the entrance of the cavern, he pronounced the words, “Open, Sesame,” the door immediately opened, and when he was in, closed upon him.  In examining the cave, he was in great admiration to find much more riches than he had apprehended from Ali Baba’s relation.  He was so covetous, and greedy of wealth, that he could have spent the whole day in feasting his eyes with so much treasure, if the thought that he came to carry some away had not hindered him.  He laid as many bags of gold as he could carry at the door of the cavern, but his thoughts were so full of the great riches he should possess, that he could not think of the necessary word to make it open, but instead of Sesame, said “Open, Barley,” and was much amazed to find that the door remained fast shut.  He named several sorts of grain, but still the door would not open.

Cassim had never expected such an incident, and was so alarmed at the danger he was in, that the more he endeavoured to remember the word Sesame, the more his memory was confounded, and he had as much forgotten it as if he had never heard it mentioned.  He threw down the bags he had loaded himself with, and walked distractedly up and down the cave, without having the least regard to the riches that were round him.

About noon the robbers chanced to visit their cave, and at some distance from it saw Cassim’s mules straggling about the rock, with great chests on their backs.  Alarmed at this novelty, they galloped full speed to the cave.  They drove away the mules, which Cassim had neglected to fasten, and they strayed through the forest so far, that they were soon out of sight.  The robbers never gave themselves the trouble to pursue them, being more concerned to know who they belonged to.  And while some of them searched about the rock, the captain and the rest went directly to the door, with their naked sabres in their hands, and pronouncing the proper words, it opened.

Cassim, who heard the noise of the horses’ feet from the middle of the cave, never doubted of the arrival of the robbers, and his approaching death; but was resolved to make one effort to escape from them.  To this end he rushed to the door, and no sooner heard the word Sesame, which he had forgotten, and saw the door open, than he ran out and threw the leader down, but could not escape the other robbers, who with their sabres soon deprived him of life.

The first care of the robbers after this was to examine the cave.  They found all the bags which Cassim had brought to the door, to be ready to load his mules, and carried them again to their places, without missing what Ali Baba had taken away before.  Then holding a council, and deliberating upon this occurrence, they guessed that Cassim, when he was in, could not get out again; but could not imagine how he had entered.  It came into their heads that he might have got down by the top of the cave; but the aperture by which it received light was so high, and the rock so inaccessible without, besides that nothing shewed that he had done so, that they gave up this conjecture.  That he came in at the door they could not believe however, unless he had the secret of making it open.  In short, none of them could imagine which way he had entered; for they were all persuaded nobody knew their secret, little imagining that Ali Baba had watched them.  It was a matter of the greatest importance to them to secure their riches.  They agreed therefore to cut Cassim’s body into four quarters, to hang two on one side and two on the other, within the door of the cave, to terrify any person who should attempt the same thing, determining not to return to the cave till the stench of the body was completely exhaled.  They had no sooner taken this resolution than they put it in execution, and when they had nothing more to detain them, left the place of their hoards well closed.  They mounted their horses, went to beat the roads again, and to attack the caravans they might meet.

In the mean time, Cassim’s wife was very uneasy when night came, and her husband was not returned.  She ran to Ali Baba in alarm, and said, “I believe, brother-in-law, that you know Cassim, your brother, is gone to the forest, and upon what account; it is now night, and he is not returned; I am afraid some misfortune has happened to him.”  Ali Baba, who had expected that his brother, after what he had said, would go to the forest, had declined going himself that day, for fear of giving him any umbrage; therefore told her, without any reflection upon her husband’s unhandsome behaviour, that she need not frighten herself, for that certainly Cassim would not think it proper to come into the town till the night should be pretty far advanced.

Cassim’s wife, considering how much it concerned her husband to keep the business secret, was the more easily persuaded to believe her brother-in-law.  She went home again, and waited patiently till midnight.  Then her fear redoubled, and her grief was the more sensible because she was forced to keep it to herself.  She repented of her foolish curiosity, and cursed her desire of penetrating into the affairs of her brother and sister-in-law.  She spent all the night in weeping; and as soon as it was day, went to them, telling them, by her tears, the cause of her coming.

Ali Baba did not wait for his sister-in-law to desire him to go to see what was become of Cassim, but departed immediately with his three asses, begging of her first to moderate her affliction.  He went to the forest, and when he came near the rock, having seen neither his brother nor the mules in his way, was seriously alarmed at finding some blood spilt near the door, which he took for an ill omen; but when he had pronounced the word, and the door had opened, he was struck with horror at the dismal sight of his brother’s quarters.  He was not long in determining how he should pay the last dues to his brother, but without adverting to the little fraternal affection he had shown for him, went into the cave, to find something to enshroud his remains, and having loaded one of his asses with them, covered them over with wood.  The other two asses he loaded with bags of gold, covering them with wood also as before; and then bidding the door shut, came away; but was so cautious as to stop some time at the end of the forest, that he might not go into the town before night.  When he came home, he drove the two asses loaded with gold into his little yard, and left the care of unloading them to his wife, while he led the other to his sister-in-law’s house.

Ali Baba knocked at the door, which was opened by Morgiana, an intelligent slave, fruitful in inventions to insure success in the most difficult undertakings:  and Ali Baba knew her to be such.  When he came into the court, he unloaded the ass, and taking Morgiana aside, said to her, “The first thing I ask of you is an inviolable secrecy, which you will find is necessary both for your mistress’s sake and mine.  Your master’s body is contained in these two bundles, and our business is, to bury him as if he had died a natural death.  Go, tell your mistress I want to speak with her; and mind what I have said to you.”

Morgiana went to her mistress, and Ali Baba followed her.  “Well, brother,” said she, with great impatience, “what news do you bring me of my husband?  I perceive no comfort in your countenance.”  “Sister,” answered Ali Baba, “I cannot satisfy your inquiries unless you hear my story from the beginning to the end, without speaking a word; for it is of as great importance to you as to me to keep what has happened secret.”  “Alas!” said she, “this preamble lets me know that my husband is not to be found; but at the same time I know the necessity of the secrecy you require, and I must constrain myself:  say on, I will hear you.”

Ali Baba then detailed the incidents of his journey, till he came to the finding of Cassim’s body.  “Now,” said he, “sister, I have something to relate which will afflict you the more, because it is perhaps what you so little expect; but it cannot now be remedied; if my endeavours can comfort you, I offer to put that which God hath sent me to what you have, and marry you:  assuring you that my wife will not be jealous, and that we shall live happily together.  If this proposal is agreeable to you, we mast think of acting so as that my brother should appear to have died a natural death.  I think you may leave the management of the business to Morgiana, and I will contribute all that lies in my power to your consolation.”

What could Cassim’s widow do better than accept of this proposal?  For though her first husband had left behind him a plentiful substance, his brother was now much richer, and by the discovery of this treasure might be still more so.  Instead, therefore, of rejecting the offer, she regarded it as the sure means of comfort; and drying up her tears, which had begun to flow abundantly, and suppressing the outcries usual with women who have lost their husbands, shewed Ali Baba that she approved of his proposal.  Ali Baba left the widow, recommended to Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned home with his ass.

Morgiana went out at the same time to an apothecary, and asked for a sort of lozenges, which he prepared, and were very efficacious in the most dangerous disorders.  The apothecary inquired who was ill at her master’s?  She replied with a sigh, “Her good master Cassim himself:  that they knew not what his disorder was, but that he could neither eat nor speak.”  After these words, Morgiana carried the lozenges home with her, and the next morning went to the same apothecary’s again, and with tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to sick people only when at the last extremity.  “Alas!” said she, taking it from the apothecary, “I am afraid that this remedy will have no better effect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master.”

On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go between Cassim’s and their own house all that day, and to seem melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim’s wife and Morgiana, who gave out every where that her master was dead.

The next morning, soon after day appeared, Morgiana, who knew a certain old cobbler that opened his stall early, before other people, went to him, and bidding him good morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand.  “Well,” said Baba Mustapha, which was his name, and who was a merry old fellow, looking at the gold, though it was hardly day-light, and seeing what it was, “this is good hansel:  what must I do for it?  I am ready.”

“Baba Mustapha,” said Morgiana, “you must take with you your sewing tackle, and go with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to such a place.”

Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words.  “Oh! oh!” replied he, “you would have me do something against my conscience, or against my honour?” “God forbid!” said Morgiana, putting another piece of gold into his hand, “that I should ask any thing that is contrary to your honour; only come along with me, and fear nothing.”

Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with a handkerchief at the place she had mentioned, conveyed him to her deceased master’s house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered the room where she had put the corpse together.  “Baba Mustapha,” said she, “you must make haste and sew these quarters together; and when you have done, I will give you another piece of gold.”

After Baba Mustapha had finished his task, she blindfolded him again, gave him the third piece of gold as she had promised, and recommending secrecy to him, carried him back to the place where she first bound his eyes, pulled off the bandage, and let him go home, but watched him that he returned towards his stall, till he was quite out of sight, for fear he should have the curiosity to return and dodge her; she then went home.

By the time Morgiana had warmed some water to wash the body, Ali Baba came with incense to embalm it, after which it was sewn up in a winding sheet.  Not long after, the joiner, according to Ali Baba’s orders, brought the bier, which Morgiana received at the door, and helped Ali Baba to put the body into it; when she went to the mosque to inform the imaum that they were ready.  The people of the mosque, whose business it was to wash the dead, offered to perform their duty, but she told them that it was done already.

Morgiana had scarcely got home before the imaum and the other ministers of the mosque arrived.  Four neighbours carried the corpse on their shoulders to the burying-ground, following the imaum, who recited some prayers.  Morgiana, as a slave to the deceased, followed the corpse, weeping, beating her breast, and tearing her hair:  and Ali Baba came after with some neighbours, who often relieved the others in carrying the corpse to the burying-ground.

Cassim’s wife stayed at home mourning, uttering lamentable cries with the women of the neighbourhood, who came according to custom during the funeral, and joining their lamentations with hers, filled the quarter far and near with sorrow.

In this manner Cassim’s melancholy death was concealed, and hushed up between Ali Baba, his wife, Cassim’s widow, and Morgiana, with so much contrivance, that nobody in the city had the least knowledge or suspicion of the cause of it.

Three or four days after the funeral, Ali Baba removed his few goods openly to the widow’s house; but the money he had taken from the robbers he conveyed thither by night; soon after the marriage with his sister-in-law was published, and as these marriages are common, nobody was surprised.

As for Cassim’s warehouse, Ali Baba gave it to his own eldest son, promising that if he managed it well, he would soon give him a fortune to marry very advantageously according to his situation.

Let us now leave Ali Baba to enjoy the beginning of his good fortune, and return to the forty robbers.

They came again at the appointed time to visit their retreat in the forest; but great was their surprise to find Cassim’s body taken away, with some of their bags of gold.  “We are certainly discovered,” said the captain, “and if we do not speedily apply some remedy, shall gradually lose all the riches which our ancestors and ourselves have, with so much pains and danger, been so many years amassing together.  All that we can think of the loss which we have sustained is, that the thief whom we surprised had the secret of opening the door, and we came luckily as he was coming out:  but his body being removed, and with it some of our money, plainly shews that he had an accomplice; and as it is likely that there were but two who had discovered our secret, and one has been caught, we must look narrowly after the other.  What say you, my lads?”

All the robbers thought the captain’s proposal so advisable, that they unanimously approved of it, and agreed that they must lay all other enterprises aside, to follow this closely, and not give it up till they had succeeded.

“I expected no less,” said the captain, “from your fidelity to our cause:  but, first of all, one of you who is bold, artful, and enterprising, must go into the town, disguised as a traveller and a stranger, to try if he can hear any talk of the strange death of the man whom we have killed, as he deserved; and endeavour to find out who he was, and where he lived.  This is a matter of the first importance for us to ascertain, that we may do nothing which we may have reason to repent of, by discovering ourselves in a country where we have lived so long unknown, and where we have so much reason to continue:  but to warn him who shall take upon himself this commission, and to prevent our being deceived by his giving us a false report, which may be the cause of our ruin; I ask you all, if you do not think that in case of treachery, or even error of judgment, he should suffer death?”

Without waiting for the suffrages of his companions, one of the robbers started up, and said, “I submit to this condition, and think it an honour to expose my life, by taking the commission upon me; but remember, at least, if I do not succeed, that I neither wanted courage nor good will to serve the troop.”

After this robber had received great commendations from the captain and his comrades, he disguised himself so that nobody would take him for what he was; and taking his leave of the troop that night, went into the town just at day-break; and walked up and down, till accidentally he came to Baba Mustapha’s stall, which was always open before any of the shops.

Baba Mustapha was seated with an awl in his hand, just going to work.  The robber saluted him, bidding him good morrow; and perceiving that he was old, said, “Honest man, you begin to work very early:  is it possible that one of your age can see so well?  I question, even if it were somewhat lighter, whether you could see to stitch.”

“Certainly,” replied Baba Mustapha, “you must be a stranger, and do not know me; for old as I am, I have extraordinary good eyes; and you will not doubt it when I tell you that I sewed a dead body together in a place where I had not so much light as I have now.”

The robber was overjoyed to think that he had addressed himself, at his first coming into the town, to a man who in all probability could give him the intelligence he wanted.  “A dead body!” replied he with affected amazement, to make him explain himself.  “What could you sew up a dead body for?  You mean, you sewed up his winding sheet.”  “No, no,” answered Baba Mustapha, “I perceive your meaning; you want to have me speak out, but you shall know no more.”

The robber wanted no farther assurance to be persuaded that he had discovered what he sought.  He pulled out a piece of gold, and putting it into Baba Mustapha’s hand, said to him, “I do not want to learn your secret, though I can assure you I would not divulge it, if you trusted me with it.  The only thing which I desire of you is, to do me the favour to shew me the house where You stitched up the dead body.”

“If I were disposed to do you that favour,” replied Baba Mustapha, holding the money in his hand, ready to return it, “I assure you I cannot; and you may believe me, on my word.  I was taken to a certain place, where I was blinded, I was then led to the house, and afterwards brought back again in the same manner; you see, therefore, the impossibility of my doing what you desire.”

“Well,” replied the robber, “you may, however, remember a little of the way that you were led blindfolded.  Come, let me blind your eyes at the same place.  We will walk together; perhaps you may recognize some part; and as every body ought to be paid for their trouble, there is another piece of gold for you; gratify me in what I ask you.”  So saying, he put another piece of gold into his hand.

The two pieces of gold were great temptations to Baba Mustapha.  He looked at them a long time in his hand, without saying a word, thinking with himself what he should do; but at last he pulled out his purse, and put them in.  “I cannot assure you,” said he to the robber, “that I can remember the way exactly; but since you desire, I will try what I can do.”  At these words Baba Mustapha rose up, to the great joy of the robber, and without shutting his shop, where he had nothing valuable to lose, he led the robber to the place where Morgiana had bound his eyes.  “It was here,” said Baba Mustapha, “I was blindfolded; and I turned as you see me.”  The robber, who had his handkerchief ready, tied it over his eyes, walked by him till he stopped, partly leading, and partly guided by him.  “I think,” said Baba Mustapha, “I went no farther,” and he had now stopped directly at Cassim’s house, where Ali Baba then lived.  The thief, before he pulled off the band, marked the door with a piece of chalk, which he had ready in his hand; and then asked him if he knew whose house that was? to which Baba Mustapha replied, that as he did not live in that neighbourhood he could not tell.

The robber, finding he could discover no more from Baba Mustapha, thanked him for the trouble he had taken, and left him to go back to his stall, while he returned to the forest, persuaded that he should be very well received.

A little after the robber and Baba Mustapha had parted, Morgiana went out of Ali Baba’s house upon some errand, and upon her return, seeing the mark the robber had made, stopped to observe it.  “What can be the meaning of this mark?” said she to herself; “somebody intends my master no good:  however, with whatever intention it was done, it is advisable to guard against the worst.”  Accordingly, she fetched a piece of chalk, and marked two or three doors on each side, in the same manner, without saying a word to her master or mistress.

In the mean time the thief rejoined his troop in the forest, and recounted to them his success; expatiating upon his good fortune, in meeting so soon with the only person who could inform him of what he wanted to know.  All the robbers listened to him with the utmost satisfaction; when the captain, after commending his diligence, addressing himself to them all, said, “Comrades, we have no time to lose:  let us set off well armed, without its appearing who we are; but that we may not excite any suspicion, let only one or two go into the town together, and join at our rendezvous, which shall be the great square.  In the mean time our comrade, who brought us the good news, and I, will go and find out the house, that we may consult what had best be done.”

This speech and plan were approved of by all, and they were soon ready.  They filed off in parties of two each, after some interval of time, and got into the town without being in the least suspected.  The captain and he who had visited the town in the morning as spy, came in the last.  He led the captain into the street where he had marked Ali Baba’s residence; and when they came to the first of the houses which Morgiana had marked, he pointed it out.  But the captain observed that the next door was chalked in the same manner, and in the same place; and shewing it to his guide, asked him which house it was, that, or the first?  The guide was so confounded, that he knew not what answer to make; but still more puzzled, when he and the captain saw five or six houses similarly marked.  He assured the captain, with an oath, that he had marked but one, And could not tell who had chalked the rest, so that he could not distinguish the house which the cobbler had stopped at.

The captain, finding that their design had proved abortive, went directly to the place of rendezvous, and told the first of his troops whom he met that they had lost their labour, and must return to their cave.  He himself set them the example, and they all returned as they had come.

When the troop was all got together, the captain told them the reason of their returning; and presently the conductor was declared by all worthy of death.  He condemned himself, acknowledging that he ought to have taken better precaution, and prepared to receive the stroke from him who was appointed to cut off his head.

But as the safety of the troop required that an injury should not go unpunished, another of the gang, who promised himself that he should succeed better, presented himself, and his offer being accepted, he went and corrupted Baba Mustapha, as the other had done; and being shewn the house, marked it in a place more remote from sight, with red chalk.

Not long after Morgiana, whose eyes nothing could escape, went out, and seeing the red chalk, and arguing with herself as she had done before, marked the other neighbours’ houses in the same place and manner.

The robber, at his return to his company, valued himself much on the precaution he had taken, which he looked upon as an infallible way of distinguishing Ali Baba’s house from the others; and the captain and all of them thought it must succeed.  They conveyed themselves into the town with the same precaution as before; but when the robber and his captain came to the street, they found the same difficulty; at which the captain was enraged, and the robber in as great confusion as his predecessor.

Thus the captain and his troop were forced to retire a second time, and much more dissatisfied; while the robber, who had been the author of the mistake, underwent the same punishment; which he willingly submitted to.

The captain, having lost two brave fellows of his troop, was afraid of diminishing it too much by pursuing this plan to get information of the residence of their plunderer.  He found by their example that their heads were not so good as their hands on such occasions; and therefore resolved to take upon himself the important commission.

Accordingly he went and addressed himself to Baba Mustapha, who did him the same service he had done to the other robbers.  He did not set any particular mark on the house, but examined and observed it so carefully, by passing often by it, that it was impossible for him to mistake it.

The captain, well satisfied with his attempt, and informed of what he wanted to know, returned to the forest; and when he came into the cave, where the troop waited for him, said, “Now, comrades, nothing can prevent our full revenge, as I am certain of the house, and in my way hither I have thought how to put it into execution, but if any one can form a better expedient, let him communicate it.”  He then told them his contrivance; and as they approved of it, ordered them to go into the villages about, and buy nineteen mules, with thirty-eight large leather jars, one full of oil, and the others empty.

In two or three days’ time the robbers had purchased the mules and jars, and as the mouths of the jars were rather too narrow for his purpose, the captain caused them to be widened; and after having put one of his men into each, with the weapons which he thought fit, leaving open the seam which had been undone to leave them room to breathe, he rubbed the jars on the outside with oil from the full vessel.

Things being thus prepared, when the nineteen mules were loaded with thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, the captain, as their driver, set out with them, and reached the town by the dusk of the evening, as he had intended.  He led them through the streets till he came to Ali Baba’s, at whose door he designed to have knocked; but was prevented by his sitting there after supper to take a little fresh air.  He stopped his mules, addressed himself to him, and said, “I have brought some oil a great way, to sell at to-morrow’s market; and it is now so late that I do not know where to lodge.  If I should not be troublesome to you, do me the favour to let me pass the night with you, and I shall be very much obliged by your hospitality.”

Though Ali Baba had seen the captain of the robbers in the forest, and had heard him speak, it was impossible to know him in the disguise of an oil-merchant.  He told him he should be welcome, and immediately opened his gates for the mules to go into the yard.  At the same time he called to a slave, and ordered him, when the mules were unloaded, not only to put them into the stable, but to give them fodder; and then went to Morgiana, to bid her get a good supper for his guest.

He did more.  To make his guest as welcome as possible, when he saw the captain had unloaded his mules, and that they were put into the stables as he had ordered, and he was looking for a place to pass the night in the air, he brought him into the hall where he received his company, telling him he would not suffer him to be in the court.  The captain excused himself on pretence of not being troublesome; but really to have room to execute his design, and it was not till after the most pressing importunity that he yielded.  Ali Baba, not content to keep company with the man who had a design on his life till supper was ready, continued talking with him till it was ended, and repeating his offer of service.

The captain rose up at the same time with his host; and while Ali Baba went to speak to Morgiana he withdrew into the yard, under pretence of looking at his mules.  Ali Baba, after charging Morgiana afresh to take care of his guest, said to her, “To-morrow morning I design to go to the bath before day; take care my bathing-linen be ready, give them to Abdoollah,” which was the slave’s name, “and make me some good broth against I return.”  After this he went to bed.

In the mean time the captain of the robbers went from the stable to give his people orders what to do; and beginning at the first jar, and so on to the last, said to each man:  “As soon as I throw some stones out of the chamber window where I lie, do not fail to cut the jar open with the knife you have about you for the purpose, and come out, and I will immediately join you.”  After this he returned into the house, when Morgiana taking up a light, conducted him to his chamber, where she left him; and he, to avoid any suspicion, put the light out soon after, and laid himself down in his clothes, that he might be the more ready to rise.

Morgiana, remembering Ali Baba’s orders, got his bathing-linen ready, and ordered Abdoollah to set on the pot for the broth; but while she was preparing it, the lamp went out, and there was no more oil in the house, nor any candles.  What to do she did not know, for the broth must be made.  Abdoollah seeing her very uneasy, said, “Do not fret and teaze yourself, but go into the yard, and take some oil out of one of the jars.”

Morgiana thanked Abdoollah for his advice, took the oil-pot, and went into the yard; when as she came nigh the first jar, the robber within said softly, “Is it time?”

Though the robber spoke low, Morgiana was struck with the voice the more, because the captain, when he unloaded the mules, had taken the lids off this and all the other jars to give air to his men, who were ill enough at their ease, almost wanting room to breathe.

As much surprised as Morgiana naturally was at finding a man in a jar instead of the oil she wanted, many would have made such a noise as to have given an alarm, which would have been attended with fatal consequences; whereas Morgiana comprehending immediately the importance of keeping silence, from the danger Ali Baba, his family, and herself were in, and the necessity of applying a speedy remedy without noise, conceived at once the means, and collecting herself without shewing the least emotions, answered, “Not yet, but presently.”  She went in this manner to all the jars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil.

By this means, Morgiana found that her master Ali Baba, who thought that he had entertained an oil merchant, had admitted thirty-eight robbers into his house, regarding this pretended merchant as their captain.  She made what haste she could to fill her oil-pot, and returned into her kitchen; where, as soon as she had lighted her lamp, she took a great kettle, went again to the oil-jar, filled the kettle, set it on a large wood-fire, and as soon as it boiled went and poured enough into every jar to stifle and destroy the robber within.

When this action, worthy of the courage of Morgiana, was executed without any noise, as she had projected, she returned into the kitchen with the empty kettle; and having put out the great fire she had made to boil the oil, and leaving just enough to make the broth, put out the lamp also, and remained silent; resolving not to go to rest till she had observed what might follow through a window of the kitchen, which opened into the yard.

She had not waited long before the captain of the robbers got up, opened the window, and finding no light, and hearing no noise, or any one stirring in the house, gave the appointed signal, by throwing little stones, several of which hit the jars, as he doubted not by the sound they gave.  He then listened, but not hearing or perceiving any thing, whereby he could judge that his companions stirred, he began to grow very uneasy, threw stones again a second and also a third time, and could not comprehend the reason that none of them should answer his signal.  Much alarmed, he went softly down into the yard, and going to the first jar, whilst asking the robber whom he thought alive if he was in readiness, smelt the hot boiled oil, which sent forth a steam out of the jar.  Hence he suspected that his plot to murder Ali Baba and plunder his house was discovered.  Examining all the jars one after another, he found that all his gang were dead; and by the oil he missed out of the last jar guessed the means and manner of their death.  Enraged to despair at having failed in his design, he forced the lock of a door that led from the yard to the garden, and climbing over the walls, made his escape.

When Morgiana heard no noise, and found, after waiting some time, that the captain did not return, she concluded that he had chosen rather to make his escape by the garden than the street-door, which was double locked.  Satisfied and pleased to have succeeded so well, in saving her master and family, she went to bed.

Ali Baba rose before day, and, followed by his slave, went to the baths, entirely ignorant of the important event which had happened at home; for Morgiana had not thought it safe to wake him before, for fear of losing her opportunity; and after her successful exploit she thought it needless to disturb him.

When he returned from the baths, the sun was risen; he was very much surprised to see the oil-jars, and that the merchant was not gone with the mules.  He asked Morgiana, who opened the door, and had let all things stand as they were, that he might see them, the reason of it?  “My good master,” answered she, “God preserve you and all your family; you will be better informed of what you wish to know when you have seen what I have to shew you, if you will but give yourself the trouble to follow me.”

As soon as Morgiana had shut the door, Ali Baba followed her; when she requested him to look into the first jar and see if there was any oil.  Ali Baba did so, and seeing a man, started back in alarm, and cried out.  “Do not be afraid,” said Morgiana, “the man you see there can neither do you nor any body else any harm.  He is dead.”  “Ah, Morgiana!” said Ali Baba, “what is it you shew me?  Explain yourself.”  “I will,” replied Morgiana; “moderate your astonishment, and do not excite the curiosity of your neighbours; for it is of great importance to keep this affair secret.  Look into all the other jars.”

Ali Baba examined all the other jars, one after another:  and when he came to that which had the oil in, found it prodigiously sunk, and stood for some time motionless, sometimes looking at the jars, and sometimes at Morgiana, without saying a word, so great was his surprise:  at last, when he had recovered himself, he said, “And what is become of the merchant?”

“Merchant!” answered she, “he is as much one as I am; I will tell you who he is, and what is become of him; but you had better hear the story in your own chamber; for it is time for your health that you had your broth after your bathing.”

While Ali Baba retired to his chamber, Morgiana went into the kitchen to fetch the broth, but before he would drink it, he first entreated her to satisfy his impatience, and tell him what had happened, with all the circumstances; and she obeyed him.

“Last night, sir,” said she, “when you were gone to bed, I got your bathing-linens ready, and gave them to Abdoollah; afterwards I set on the pot for the broth, but as I was preparing the materials, the lamp, for want of oil, went out; and as there was not a drop more in the house, I looked for a candle, but could not find one:  Abdoollah seeing me vexed, put me in mind of the jars of oil which stood in the yard.  I took the oil-pot, went directly to the jar which stood nearest to me; and when I came to it, heard a voice within, saying, ‘Is it time?’ Without being dismayed, and comprehending immediately the malicious intention of the pretended oil-merchant, I answered, ’Not yet, but presently.’  I then went to the next, when another voice asked me the same question, and I returned the same answer; and so on, till I came to the last, which I found full of oil; with which I filled my pot.

“When I considered that there were thirty seven robbers in the yard, who only waited for a signal to be given by the captain, whom you took to be an oil-merchant, and entertained so handsomely, I thought there was no time to be lost; I carried my pot of oil into the kitchen, lighted the lamp, afterwards took the biggest kettle I had, went and filled it full of oil, set it on the fire to boil, and then poured as much into each jar as was sufficient to prevent them from executing the pernicious design they had meditated:  after this I retired into the kitchen, and put out the lamp; but before I went to bed, waited at the window to know what measures the pretended merchant would take.

“After I had watched some time for the signal, he threw some stones out of the window against the jars, but neither hearing nor perceiving any body stirring, after throwing three times, he came down, when I saw him go to every jar, after which, through the darkness of the night, I lost sight of him.  I waited some time longer, and finding that he did not return, doubted not but that, seeing he had missed his aim, he had made his escape over the walls of the garden.  Persuaded that the house was now safe, I went to bed.

“This,” said Morgiana, “is the account you asked of me; and I am convinced it is the consequence of what I observed some days ago, but did not think fit to acquaint you with:  for when I came in one morning early, I found our street door marked with white chalk, and the next morning with red; upon which, both times, without knowing what was the intention of those chalks, I marked two or three neighbours’ doors on each side in the same manner.  If you reflect on this, and what has since happened, you will find it to be a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whose gang there are two wanting, and now they are reduced to three:  all this shews that they had sworn your destruction, and it is proper you should be upon your guard, while there is one of them alive:  for my part I shall neglect nothing necessary to your preservation, as I am in duty bound.”

When Morgiana had left off speaking, Ali Baba was so sensible of the great service she had done him, that he said to her, “I will not die without rewarding you as you deserve:  I owe my life to you, and for the first token of my acknowledgment, give you your liberty from this moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend.  I am persuaded with you, that the forty robbers have laid snares for my destruction.  God, by your means, has delivered me from them as yet, and I hope will continue to preserve me from their wicked designs, and by averting the danger which threatened me, will deliver the world from their persecution and their cursed race.  All that we have to do is to bury the bodies of these pests of mankind immediately, and with all the secrecy imaginable, that nobody may suspect what is become of them.  But that labour Abdoollah and I will undertake.”

Ali Baba’s garden was very long, and shaded at the farther end by a great number of large trees.  Under these he and the slave dug a trench, long and wide enough to hold all the robbers, and as the earth was light, they were not long in doing it.  Afterwards they lifted the bodies out of the jars, took away their weapons, carried them to the end of the garden, laid them in the trench, and levelled the ground again.  When this was done, Ali Baba hid the jars and weapons; and as he had no occasion for the mules, he sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his slave.

While Ali Baba took these measures to prevent the public from knowing how he came by his riches in so short a time, the captain of the forty robbers returned to the forest with inconceivable mortification; and in his agitation, or rather confusion, at his ill success, so contrary to what he had promised himself, entered the cave, not being able, all the way from the town, to come to any resolution how to revenge himself of Ali Baba.

The loneliness of the gloomy cavern became frightful to him.  “Where are you, my brave lads,” cried he, “old companions of my watchings, inroads, and labour?  What can I do without you?  Did I collect you only to lose you by so base a fate, and so unworthy of your courage!  Had you died with your sabres in your hands, like brave men, my regret had been less!  When shall I enlist so gallant a troop again?  And if I could, can I undertake it without exposing so much gold and treasure to him who hath already enriched himself out of it?  I cannot, I ought not to think of it, before I have taken away his life.  I will undertake that alone which I could not accomplish with your powerful assistance; and when I have taken measures to secure this treasure from being pillaged, I will provide for it new masters and successors after me, who shall preserve and augment it to all posterity.”  This resolution being taken, he was not at a loss how to execute his purpose; but easy in his mind, and full of hopes, slept all that night very quietly.

When he awoke early next morning, he dressed himself, agreeably to the project he had formed, went to the town, and took a lodging in a khan.  As he expected what had happened at Ali Baba’s might make a great noise, he asked his host what news there was in the city?  Upon which the inn-keeper told him a great many circumstances, which did not concern him in the least.  He judged by this, that the reason why Ali Baba kept his affairs so secret, was for fear people should know where the treasure lay; and because he knew his life would be sought on account of it.  This urged him the more to neglect nothing to rid himself of so cautious an enemy.

The captain now assumed the character of a merchant, and conveyed gradually a great many sorts of rich stuffs and fine linen to his lodging from the cavern, but with all the necessary precautions imaginable to conceal the place whence he brought them.  In order to dispose of the merchandizes, when he had amassed them together, he took a warehouse, which happened to be opposite to Cassim’s, which Ali Baba’s son had occupied since the death of his uncle.

He took the name of Khaujeh Houssain, and as a new-comer, was, according to custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the merchants his neighbours.  Ali Baba’s son was from his vicinity one of the first to converse with Khaujeh Houssain, who strove to cultivate his friendship more particularly, when, two or three days after he was settled, he recognized Ali Baba, who came to see his son, and stopped to talk with him as he was accustomed to do.  When he was gone, the impostor learnt from his son who he was.  He increased his assiduities, caressed him in the most engaging manner, made him some small presents, and often asked him to dine and sup with him; when he treated him very handsomely.

Ali Baba’s son did not choose to lie under such obligation to Khaujeh Houssain, without making the like return; but was so much straitened for want of room in his house, that he could not entertain him so well as he wished; he therefore acquainted his father Ali Baba with his intention, and told him that it did not look well for him to receive such favours from Khaujeh Houssain, without inviting him in return.

Ali Baba, with great pleasure, took the treat upon himself.  “Son,” said he, “to-morrow being Friday, which is a day that the shops of such great merchants as Khaujeh Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to take a walk with you, and as you come back, pass by my door, and call in.  It will look better to have it happen accidentally, than if you gave him a formal invitation.  I will go and order Morgiana to provide a supper.”

The next day Ali Baba’s son and Khaujeh Houssain met by appointment, took their walk, and as they returned, Ali Baba’s son led Khaujeh Houssain through the street where his father lived; and when they came to the house, stopped and knocked at the door.  “This, sir,” said he, “is my father’s house; who, from the account I have given him of your friendship, charged me to procure him the honour of your acquaintance; and I desire you to add this pleasure to those for which I am already indebted to you.”

Though it was the sole aim of Khaujeh Houssain to introduce himself into Ali Baba’s house, that he might kill him without hazarding his own life or making any noise; yet he excused himself, and offered to take his leave.  But a slave having opened the door, Ali Baba’s son took him obligingly by the hand, and in a manner forced him in.

Ali Baba received Khaujeh Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in the most obliging manner he could wish.  He thanked him for all the favours he had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the greater, as he was a young man not much acquainted with the world, and that he might contribute to his information.

Khaujeh Houssain returned the compliment, by assuring Ali Baba, that though his son might not have acquired the experience of older men, he had good sense equal to the experience of many others.  After a little more conversation on different subjects, he offered again to take his leave; when Ali Baba, stopping him, said, “Where are you going, sir, in so much haste?  I beg you would do me the honour to sup with me, though what I have to give you is not worth your acceptance; but such as it is, I hope you will accept it as heartily as I give it.”  “Sir,” replied Khaujeh Houssain, “I am thoroughly persuaded of your good-will; and if I ask the favour of you not to take it ill that I do not accept your obliging invitation, I beg of you to believe that it does not proceed from any slight or intention to affront, but from a reason which you would approve if you knew it.”

“And what may that reason be, sir,” replied Ali Baba, “if I may be so bold as to ask you?” “It is,” answered Khaujeh Houssain, “that I can eat no victuals that have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should feel at your table.”  “If that is the only reason,” said Ali Baba, “it ought not to deprive me of the honour of your company at supper; for, in the first place, there is no salt ever put into my bread, and as to the meat we shall have to-night, I promise you there shall be none in that.  Therefore you must do me the favour to stay.  I will return immediately.”

Ali Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt to the meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly two or three ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put no salt in them.

Morgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help, this time, seeming somewhat dissatisfied at his strange order.  “Who is this difficult man,” said she, “who eats no salt with his meat?  Your supper will be spoiled, if I keep it back so long.”  “Do not be angry, Morgiana,” replied Ali Baba:  “he is an honest man; therefore do as I bid you.”

Morgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a curiosity to see this man who ate no salt.  To this end, when she had finished what she had to do in the kitchen, she helped Abdoollah to carry up the dishes; and looking at Khaujeh Houssain, knew him at first sight, notwithstanding his disguise, to be the captain of the robbers, and examining him very carefully, perceived that he had a dagger under his garment.  “I am not in the least amazed,” said she to herself, “that this wicked wretch, who is my master’s greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since he intends to assassinate him; but I will prevent him”.

Morgiana, while they were eating, made the necessary preparations for executing one of the boldest acts ever meditated, and had just determined, when Abdoollah came for the dessert of fruit, which she carried up, and as soon as Abdoollah had taken the meat away, set it upon the table; after that, she placed three glasses by Ali Baba, and going out, took Abdoollah with her to sup, and to give Ali Baba the more liberty of conversation with his guest.

Khaujeh Houssain, or rather the captain of the robbers, thought he had now a favourable opportunity of being revenged on Ali Baba.  “I will,” said he to himself, “make the father and son both drunk:  the son, whose life I intend to spare, will not be able to prevent my stabbing his father to the heart; and while the slaves are at supper, or asleep in the kitchen, I can make my escape over the gardens as before.”

Instead of going to supper, Morgiana, who had penetrated the intentions of the counterfeit Khaujeh Houssain, would not give him time to put his villanous design into execution, but dressed herself neatly with a suitable head-dress like a dancer, girded her waist with a silver-gilt girdle, to which there hung a poniard with a hilt and guard of the same metal, and put a handsome mask on her face.  When she had thus disguised herself, she said to Abdoollah, “Take your tabor, and let us go and divert our master and his son’s guest, as we do sometimes when he is alone.”

Abdoollah took his tabor and played all the way into the hall before Morgiana, who, when she came to the door, made a low obeisance, with a deliberate air, in order to draw attention, and by way of asking leave to exhibit her skill.  Abdoollah, seeing that his master had a mind to say something, left off playing.  “Come in, Morgiana,” said Ali Baba, “and let Khaujeh Houssain see what you can do, that he may tell us what he thinks of you.”  “But, sir,” said he, turning towards his guest, “do not think that I put myself to any expense to give you this diversion, since these are my slave and my cook and housekeeper; and I hope you will not find the entertainment they give us disagreeable.”

Khaujeh Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper, began to fear he should not be able to improve the opportunity he thought he had found; but hoped, if he now missed his aim, to secure it another time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the father and son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba would have declined the dance, he pretended to be obliged to him for it, and had the complaisance to express his satisfaction at what he saw pleased his host.

As soon as Abdoollah saw that Ali Baba and Khaujeh Houssain had done talking, he began to play on the tabor, and accompanied it with an air; to which Morgiana, who was an excellent performer, danced in such a manner as would have created admiration in any other company besides that before which she now exhibited, among whom, perhaps, none but the false Khaujeh Houssain was in the least attentive to her, the rest having seen her so frequently.

After she had danced several dances with equal propriety and grace, she drew the poniard, and holding it in her hand, began a dance, in which she outdid herself, by the many different figures, light movements, and the surprising leaps and wonderful exertions with which she accompanied it.  Sometimes she presented the poniard to one’s breast, sometimes to another’s, and oftentimes seeming to strike her own.  At last, as if she was out of breath, she snatched the tabor from Abdoollah with her left hand, and holding the dagger in her right, presented the other side of the tabor, after the manner of those who get a livelihood by dancing, and solicit the liberality of the spectators.

Ali Baba put a piece of gold into the tabor, as did also his son; and Khaujeh Houssain seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled his purse out of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was putting his hand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution worthy of herself, plunged the poniard into his heart.

Ali Baba and his son, shocked at this action, cried out aloud.  “Unhappy wretch!” exclaimed Ali Baba, “what have you done to ruin me and my family?” “It was to preserve, not to ruin you,” answered Morgiana; “for see here,” continued she (opening the pretended Khaujeh Houssain’s garment, and shewing the dagger), “what an enemy you had entertained!  Look well at him, and you will find him to be both the fictitious oil-merchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers.  Remember, too, that he would eat no salt with you; and what would you have more to persuade you of his wicked design?  Before I saw him I suspected him as soon as you told me you had such a guest.  I knew him, and you now find that my suspicion was not groundless.”

Ali Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana for saving his life a second time, embraced her:  “Morgiana,” said he, “I gave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude should not stop there, but that I would soon give you higher proofs of its sincerity, which I now do by making you my daughter-in-law.”  Then addressing himself to his son, he said, “I believe you, son, to be so dutiful a child, that you will not refuse Morgiana for your wife.  You see that Khaujeh Houssain sought your friendship with a treacherous design to take away my life; and, if he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he would have sacrificed you also to his revenge.  Consider, that by marrying Morgiana you marry the preserver of my family and your own.”

The son, far from shewing any dislike, readily consented to the marriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but also because it was agreeable to his inclination.

After this, they thought of burying the captain of the robbers with his comrades, and did it so privately that nobody discovered their bones till many years after, when no one had any concern in the publication of this remarkable history.

A few days afterwards, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son and Morgiana with great solemnity, a sumptuous feast, and the usual dancing and spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that his friends and neighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the true motives of the marriage; but that those who were not unacquainted with Morgiana’s good qualities commended his generosity and goodness of heart.

Ali Baba forbore, after this marriage, from going again to the robbers’ cave, as he had done from the time he had brought away his brother Cassim’s mangled remains, for fear of being surprised.  He kept away after the death of the thirty-seven robbers and their captain, supposing the other two, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.

At the year’s end, when he found they had not made any attempt to disturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey, taking the necessary precautions for his safety.  He mounted his horse, and when he came to the cave, and saw no footsteps of men or horses, looked upon it as a good sign.  He alighted, tied his horse to a tree, then approaching the entrance, and pronouncing the words, Open, Sesame, the door opened.  He entered the cavern, and by the condition he found things in, judged that nobody had been there since the false Khaujeh Houssain, when he had fetched the goods for his shop, that the gang of forty robbers was completely destroyed, and no longer doubted that he was the only person in the world who had the secret of opening the cave, so that all the treasure was at his sole disposal.  Having brought with him a wallet, he put into it as much gold as his horse would carry, and returned to town.

Afterwards Ali Baba carried his son to the cave, taught him the secret, which they handed down to their posterity, who, using their good fortune with moderation, lived in great honour and splendour.

The story of Ali Khaujeh, A merchant of
Bagdad.

In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at Bagdad a merchant whose name was Ali Khaujeh, who was neither one of the richest nor poorest of his line.  He was a bachelor, and lived in the house which had been his father’s, independent and content with the profit he made by his trade.  But happening to dream for three successive nights that a venerable old man came to him, and, with a severe look, reprimanded him for not having made a pilgrimage to Mecca, he was much troubled.

As a good Mussulmaun, he knew he was obliged to undertake a pilgrimage; but as he had a house, shop, and goods, he had always believed that they might stand for a sufficient reason to excuse him, endeavouring by his charity, and other good works, to atone for that neglect.  After this dream, however, his conscience was so much pricked, that the fear lest any misfortune should befall him made him resolve not to defer it any longer; and to be able to go that year, he sold off his household goods, his shop, and with it the greatest part of his merchandize, reserving only some articles, which he thought might turn to a better account at Mecca; and meeting with a tenant for his house, let that also.

His affairs being thus disposed, he was ready to depart when the Bagdad caravan set out for Mecca:  the only thing he had to do was to lodge in some place of security a sum of a thousand pieces of gold, which would have been troublesome to carry with him, with the money he had set apart to defray his expenses on the road, and for other purposes.  To this end, he made choice of a jar of a suitable size, put the thousand pieces of gold into it, and covered them over with olives.  When he had closed the mouth of the jar, he carried it to a merchant, a particular friend of his, and said to him, “You know, brother, that in a few days I mean to depart with the caravan, on my pilgrimage to Mecca.  I beg the favour of you to take charge of a jar of olives, and keep it for me till I return.”  The merchant promised him he would, and in an obliging manner said, “Here, take the key of my warehouse, and set your jar where you please.  I promise you shall find it there when you return.”

On the day the caravan was to set out Ali Khaujeh joined it, with a camel loaded with what goods he had thought fit to carry, which also served him to ride on.  He arrived safe at Mecca, where he visited, with other pilgrims, the temple so much celebrated and frequented by the faithful of all nations every year, who came from all parts of the world, and observed religiously the ceremonies prescribed them.  When he had acquitted himself of the duties of his pilgrimage, he exposed the merchandize he had brought with him for sale or barter, as might be most profitable.

Two merchants passing by, and seeing Ali Khaujeh’s goods, thought them so choice, that they stopped some time to look at, though they had no occasion for them; and when they had satisfied their curiosity, one of them said to the other, as they were going away, “If this merchant knew to what profit these goods would turn at Cairo he would carry them thither, and not sell them here, though this is a good mart.”

Ali Khaujeh heard these words; and as he had often heard talk of the beauties of Egypt, he was resolved to take the opportunity of seeing them, by performing a journey thither.  Therefore, after having packed up his goods again, instead of returning to Bagdad, he set out for Egypt, with the caravan of Cairo.  When he came thither, he found his account in his journey, and in a few days sold all his goods to a greater advantage than he had hoped for.  With the money he bought others, with an intent to go to Damascus:  and while he waited for the opportunity of a caravan, which was to depart in six weeks, visited all the curiosities of Cairo, as also the pyramids, and sailing up the Nile, viewed the famous towns on each side of that river.

As the Damascus caravan took Jerusalem in their way, our Bagdad merchant had the opportunity of visiting the temple, regarded by the Mussulmauns to be the most holy, after that of Mecca, whence this city takes its name of Biel al Mukkuddus, or most sacred mansion.

Ali Khaujeh found Damascus so delicious a place, being environed by verdant meadows, pleasantly watered, and delightful gardens, that it exceeded the descriptions given of it in the journals of travellers.  Here he made a long abode, but, nevertheless, did not forget his native Bagdad:  for which place he at length set out, and arrived at Aleppo, where he made some stay; and from thence, after having passed the Euphrates, he bent his course to Moussoul, with an intention, in his return, to come by a shorter way down the Tigris.

When Ali Khaujeh came to Moussoul, some Persian merchants, with whom he had travelled from Aleppo, and with whom he had contracted a great friendship, had obtained so great an influence over him by their civilities and agreeable conversation, that they easily persuaded him not to leave them till he should have visited Sheerauz, from whence he might easily return to Bagdad with a considerable profit.  They led him through the towns of Sultania, Rei, Coam, Caschan, Ispahan, and from thence to Sheerauz; from whence he had the complaisance to bear them company to Hindoostan, and then returned with them again to Sheerauz; insomuch, that including the stay made in every town, he was seven years absent from Bagdad, whither he then resolved to return.

All this time his friend, with whom he had left his jar of olives, neither thought of him nor them; but at the time when he was on the road with a caravan from Sheerauz, one evening as this merchant was supping with his family, the discourse happened to fall upon olives, and his wife was desirous to eat some, saying, she had not tasted any for a long while.  “Now you speak of olives,” said the merchant, “you put me in mind of a jar which Ali Khaujeh left with me seven years ago, when he went to Mecca; and put it himself in my warehouse to be kept for him against he returned.  What is become of him I know not; though, when the caravan came back, they told me he was gone for Egypt.  Certainly he must be dead, since he has not returned in all this time; and we may eat the olives, if they prove good.  Give me a plate and a candle, I will go and fetch some of them, and we will taste them.”

“For God’s sake, husband,” said the wife, “do not commit so base an action; you know that nothing is more sacred than what is committed to one’s care and trust.  You say Ali Khaujeh has left Mecca, and is not returned; but you have been told that he is gone into Egypt; and how do you know but that he may be gone farther?  As you have no intelligence of his death, he may return to-morrow for any thing you can tell:  and what a disgrace would it be to you and your family if he should come, and you not restore him his jar in the same condition he left it?  I declare I have no desire for the olives, and will not taste them, for when I mentioned them it was only by way of conversation; besides, do you think that they can be good, after they have been kept so long?  They most be all mouldy, and spoiled; and if Ali Khaujeh should return, as I have a strong persuasion he will, and should find they had been opened, what will he think of your honour?  I beg of you to let them alone.”

The wife had not argued so long with her husband, but that she read his obstinacy in his face.  In short, he never regarded what she said, but got up, took a candle and a plate, and went into the warehouse.  “Well, husband,” said the wife again, “remember I have no hand in this business; and that you cannot lay any thing to my charge, if you should have cause to repent of your conduit.”

The merchant’s ears were deaf to these remonstrances of his wife, and he persisted in his design.  When he came into the warehouse, he opened the jar, and found the olives mouldy; but to see if they were all so to the bottom, he turned some of them upon the plate; and by shaking the jar, some of the gold tumbled out.

At the sight of the gold, the merchant, who was naturally covetous, looked into the jar, perceived that he had shaken out almost all the olives, and what remained was gold coin.  He immediately put the olives into the jar again, covered it up, and returned to his wife.  “Indeed, wife,” said he, “you were in the right to say that the olives were all mouldy; for I found them so, and have made up the jar just as Ali Khaujeh left it; so that he will not perceive that they have been touched, if he should return.”  “You had better have taken my advice,” said the wife, “and not have meddled with them.  God grant no mischief happens in consequence!”

The merchant was not more affected with his wife’s last words than he had been by her former, but spent almost the whole night in thinking how he might appropriate Ali Khaujeh’s gold to his own use, and keep possession of it in case he should return and ask him for the jar.  The next morning he went and bought some olives of that year, took out the old with the gold, and filled the jar with the new, covered it up, and put it in the place where Ali Khaujeh had left it.

About a month after the merchant had committed this unworthy action, Ali Khaujeh arrived at Bagdad; and as he had let his house, alighted at a khan, choosing to stay there till he had announced his arrival to his tenant, and given him time to provide himself with another residence.

The next morning Ali Khaujeh went to pay a visit to the merchant his friend, who received him in the most obliging manner; and expressed great joy at his return, after so many years absence; telling him, that he had begun to lose all hopes of ever seeing him again.

After the usual compliments on both sides on such a meeting, Ali Khaujeh desired the merchant to return him the jar of olives which he had left with him, and to excuse the liberty he had taken in giving him so much trouble.

“My dear friend,” replied the merchant, “you are to blame to make these apologies, your vessel has been no inconvenience to me; on such an occasion I should have made as free with you:  there is the key of my warehouse, go and fetch your jar; you will find it in the place where you left it.”

Ali Khaujeh went into the merchant’s warehouse, took his jar; and after having returned him the key with thanks for the favour he had done:  him, returned with it to the khan where he lodged; but on opening the jar, and putting his hand down as low as the pieces of gold had lain, was greatly surprised to find none.  At first he thought he might perhaps be mistaken; and, to discover the truth, poured out all the olives into his travelling kitchen-utensils, but without so much as finding one single piece of money.  His astonishment was so great, that he stood for some time motionless; then lifting up his hands and eyes to Heaven, he exclaimed, “Is it possible that a man, whom I took for my friend, should be guilty of such baseness?”

Ali Khaujeh, alarmed at the apprehension of so considerable a loss, returned immediately to the merchant.  “My good friend,” said he, “be not surprised to see me come back so soon.  I own the jar of olives to be the same I placed in your warehouse; but with the olives I put into it a thousand pieces of gold, which I do not find.  Perhaps you might have occasion for them, and have employed them in trade:  if so they are at your service till it may be convenient for you to return them; only put me out of my pain, and give me an acknowledgment, after which you may pay me at your own convenience.”

The merchant, who had expected that Ali Khaujeh would come with such a complaint, had meditated an answer.  “Friend Ali Khaujeh,” said he, “when you brought your jar to me did I touch it? did not I give you the key of my warehouse, did not you carry it there yourself, and did not you find it in the same place, covered in the same manner as when you left it?  And if you had put gold in it, you must have found it.  You told me it contained olives, and I believed you.  This is all I know of the matter:  you may disbelieve me if you please; but I never touched them.”

Ali Khaujeh used all the mild methods he could think of to oblige the merchant to restore his property.  “I love peace and quietness,” said he to him, “and shall be sorry to come to those extremities which will bring the greatest disgrace upon you; consider, that merchants, as we are, ought to abandon all interest to preserve a good reputation.  Once again I tell you, I shall be greatly concerned if your obstinacy oblige me to force you to do me justice; for I would rather almost lose what is my right than have recourse to law.”

“Ali Khaujeh,” replied the merchant, “you agree that you left a jar of olives with me; and now you have taken it away, you come and ask me for a thousand pieces of gold.  Did you ever tell me that such a sum was in the jar?  I did not even know that they were olives, for you never showed them to me.  I wonder you do not ask me for diamonds and pearls instead of gold; be gone about your business, and do not raise a mob about my warehouse;” for some persons had already collected.  These words were pronounced in such great heat and passion, as not only made those who stood about the warehouse already stay longer, and create a greater mob, but the neighbouring merchants came out of their shops to learn what the dispute was between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant, and endeavoured to reconcile them; but when Ali Khaujeh had informed them of his grievance, they asked the merchant what he had to say.

The merchant owned that he had kept the jar for Ali Khaujeh in his warehouse, but denied that ever he had meddled with it; swore that he knew it contained olives, only because Ali Khaujeh told him so, and requested them all to bear witness of the insult and affront offered him.  “You bring it upon yourself,” said Ali Khaujeh taking him by the arm; “but since you use me so basely, I cite you to the law of God:  let us see whether you will have the assurance to say the same thing before the cauzee.”

The merchant could not refuse the summons, which every Mussulmaun is bound to observe, or be declared a rebel against religion; but said, “With all my heart; we shall soon see who is in the wrong.”

Ali Khaujeh carried the merchant before the magistrate, where he accused him of having, by breach of trust, defrauded him of a thousand pieces of gold, which he had left with him.  The cauzee demanded if he had any witnesses; to which he replied, that he had not taken that precaution, because he had believed the person he trusted his money with to be his friend, and always took him for an honest man.

The merchant made the same defence he had done before the merchants his neighbours, offering to make oath that he never had the money he was accused of, and that he did not so much as know there was such a sum; upon which the cauzee took his oath, and dismissed him acquitted for want of evidence.

Ali Khaujeh, extremely mortified to find that he must sit down with so considerable a loss, protested against the sentence, declaring to the cauzee that he would appeal to the caliph, who would do him justice; which protestation the magistrate regarded as the effect of the common resentment of those who lose their cause; and thought he had done his duty in acquitting a person who had been accused without witnesses.

While the merchant returned home triumphing over Ali Khaujeh and overjoyed at his good fortune, the latter went and drew up a petition; and the next day observing the time when the caliph came from noon tide prayers, placed himself in the street he was to pass through; and holding out his hand with the petition, an officer appointed for that purpose, who always goes before the caliph, came and took it to present it.

As Ali Khaujeh knew that it was the caliph’s custom to read the petitions at his return to the palace, he went into the court, and waited till the officer who had taken the petition came out of the caliph’s apartment, who told him that the caliph had appointed an hour to hear him next day; and then asking him where the merchant lived, he sent to notify to him to attend at the same time.

That same evening, the caliph, accompanied by the grand vizier Jaaffier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs, went disguised through the town, as it was his custom occasionally to do; when, on passing through a street, the caliph heard a noise, and mending his pace, came to a gateway, which led into a little court, in which he perceived ten or twelve children playing by moonlight.

The caliph, who was curious to know at what play the children were engaged, sat down on a stone bench just by; and heard one of the liveliest of the children say, “Let us play at the cauzee I will be the magistrate; bring Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who cheated him of the thousand pieces of gold before me.”

These words of the child put the caliph in mind of the petition Ali Khaujeh had given him that day, and made him redouble his attention to see the issue of the trial.

As the affair of Ali Khaujeh and the merchant had made a great noise in Bagdad, it had not escaped the children, who all accepted the proposition with joy, and agreed on the part each was to act:  not one of them refused him who made the proposal to be cauzee:  and when he had taken his seat, which he did with all the seeming gravity of a judge, another, as an officer of the court, presented two boys before him; one as Ali Khaujeh, and the other as the merchant against whom he complained.

The pretended cauzee then directing his discourse to the feigned Ali Khaujeh, asked him what he had to lay to that merchant’s charge?

Ali Khaujeh after a low obeisance, informed the young cauzee of the fact, related every particular, and afterwards begged that he would use his authority, that he might not lose so considerable a sum of money.

The feigned cauzee, turning about to the merchant, then asked him why he did not return the money which Ali Khaujeh demanded of him?

The feigned merchant alleged the same reasons as the real merchant had done before the cauzee himself, and offered to confirm by oath that what he had said was truth.

“Not so fast,” replied the pretended cauzee; “before you come to your oath, I should be glad to see the jar of olives.  Ali Khaujeh,” said he, addressing himself to the boy who acted that part, “have you brought the jar?” “No,” replied he.  “Then go and fetch it immediately,” said the other.

The pretended Ali Khaujeh went immediately, and returning, feigned to set a jar before the cauzee, telling him that it was the same he had left with the accused person, and received from him again.  But to omit no part of the formality, the supposed cauzee asked the merchant if it was the same; and as by his silence he seemed not to deny it, he ordered it to be opened.  He that represented Ali Khaujeh seemed to take off the cover, and the pretended cauzee made as if he looked into it.  “They are fine olives,” said he, “let me taste them;” and then pretending to eat some, added, “They are excellent:  but,” continued he, “I cannot think that olives will keep seven years, and be so good, therefore send for some olive-merchants, and let me hear what is their opinion.”  Two boys, as olive-merchants, then presented themselves.  “Are you olive-merchants?” said the sham cauzee.  “Tell me how long olives will keep fit to eat.”

“Sir,” replied the two merchants, “let us take what care we can, they will hardly be worth any thing the third year; for then they have neither taste nor colour.”  “If it be so,” answered the cauzee, “look into that jar, and tell me how long it is since those olives were put into it?”

The two merchants pretended to examine and to taste the olives, and told the cauzee they were new and good.  “You are mistaken,” said the young cauzee; “Ali Khaujeh says he put them into the jar seven years ago.”

“Sir,” replied the merchants, “we can assure you they are of this year’s growth:  and we will maintain there is not a merchant in Bagdad but will say the same.”

The feigned merchant who was accused would have objected against the evidence of the olive-merchants; but the pretended cauzee would not suffer him.  “Hold your tongue,” said he, “you are a rogue; let him be impaled.”  The children then concluded their play, clapping their hands with great joy, and seizing the feigned criminal to carry him to execution.

Words cannot express how much the caliph Haroon al Rusheed admired the sagacity and sense of the boy who had passed so just a sentence, in an affair which was to be pleaded before himself the next day.  He withdrew, and rising off the bench, asked the grand vizier, who heard all that had passed, what he thought of it.  “Indeed, commander of the true believers,” answered the grand vizier Jaaffier, “I am surprised to find so much sagacity in one so young.”

“But,” answered the caliph, “do you know one thing?  I am to pronounce sentence in this very cause to-morrow; the true Ali Khaujeh presented his petition to me to-day; and do you think,” continued he, “that I can give a better sentence?” “I think not,” answered the vizier, “if the case is as the children represented it.”  “Take notice then of this house,” said the caliph, “and bring the boy to me to-morrow, that he may try this cause in my presence; and also order the cauzee, who acquitted the merchant, to attend to learn his duty from a child.  Take care likewise to bid Ali Khaujeh bring his jar of olives with him, and let two olive-merchants attend.”  After this charge he pursued his rounds, without meeting with any thing worth his attention.

The next day the vizier went to the house where the caliph had been a witness of the children’s play, and asked for the master; but he being abroad, his wife appeared thickly veiled.  He asked her if she had any children.  To which she answered, she had three; and called them.  “My brave boys,” said the vizier, “which of you was the cauzee when you played together last night?” The eldest made answer, it was he:  but, not knowing why he asked the question, coloured.  “Come along with me, my lad,” said the grand vizier; “the commander of the faithful wants to see you.”

The mother was alarmed when she saw the grand vizier would take her son with him, and asked, upon what account the caliph wanted him?  The grand vizier encouraged her, and promised that he should return again in less than an hour’s time, when she would know it from himself.  “If it be so, sir,” said the mother, “give me leave to dress him first, that he may be fit to appear before the commander of the faithful:”  which the vizier readily complied with.

As soon as the child was dressed, the vizier carried him away and presented him to the caliph, at the time he had appointed to hear Ali Khaujeh and the merchant.

The caliph, who saw that the boy was much abashed, in order to encourage him, said, “Come to me, child, and tell me if it was you that determined the affair between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who had cheated him of his money?  I saw and heard the decision, and am very well pleased with you.”  The boy answered modestly, that it was he.  “Well, my son,” replied the caliph, “come and sit down by me, and you shall see the true Ali Khaujeh, and the true merchant.”

The caliph then took him by the hand, seated him on the throne by him, and asked for the two parties.  When they were introduced, they prostrated themselves before the throne, bowing their heads quite down to the carpet that covered it.  Afterwards the caliph said to them, “Plead each of you your causes before this child, who will hear and do you justice:  and if he should be at a loss I will assist him.”

Ali Khaujeh and the merchant pleaded one after the other; but when the merchant proposed his oath as before, the child said, “It is too soon; it is proper that we should see the jar of olives.”

At these words Ali Khaujeh presented the jar, placed it at the caliph’s feet, and opened it.  The caliph looked at the olives, took one and tasted it, giving another to the boy.  Afterwards the merchants were called, who examined the olives, and reported that they were good, and of that year.  The boy told them, that Ali Khaujeh affirmed that it was seven years since he had put them up; when they returned the same answer as the children, who had represented them the night before.

Though the wretch who was accused saw plainly that these merchants’ opinion must convict him, yet he would say something in his own justification.  But the child, instead of ordering him to be impaled, looked at the caliph, and said “Commander of the faithful, this is no jesting matter; it is your majesty that must condemn him to death, and not I, though I did it yesterday in play.”

The caliph, fully satisfied of the merchant’s villany, delivered him into the hands of the ministers of justice to be impaled.  The sentence was executed upon him, after he had confessed where he had concealed the thousand pieces of gold, which were restored to Ali Khaujeh.  The monarch, most just and equitable, then turning to the cauzee, bade him learn of that child to acquit himself more exactly of his duty; and embracing the boy, sent him home with a purse of a hundred pieces of gold as a token of his liberality and admiration of his acuteness.

End of Volume 3.

Text scanned by JC Byers and proofread by the Distributed
Proofers.

The “Aldine” Edition of

The Arabian Nights Entertainments

Illustrated by S. L. Wood

From the text of Dr. Jonathan Scott

In Four Volumes

Volume 4

London
Pickering and Chatto
1890

Contents of Volume IV.

The Story of the Enchanted Horse
The Story of Prince Ahmed, and the Fairy Perie Banou
The Story of the Sisters Who Envied Their Younger Sister
Story of the Three Sharpers and the Sultan
The Adventures of the Abdicated Sultan
History of Mahummud, Sultan of Cairo
Story of the First Lunatic
Story of the Second Lunatic
Story of the Retired Sage and His Pupil, Related to the
Sultan by the Second Lunatic
Story of the Broken-backed Schoolmaster
Story of the Wry-mouthed Schoolmaster
Story of the Sisters and the Sultana Their Mother
Story of the Bang-eater and the Cauzee
Story of the Bang-eater and His Wife
The Sultan and the Traveller Mhamood Al Hyjemmee
The Koord Robber
Story of the Husbandman
Story of the Three Princes and Enchanting Bird
Story of a Sultan of Yemen and His Three Sons
Story of the First Sharper in the Cave
History of the Sultan of Hind
Story of the Fisherman’s Son
Story of Abou Neeut and Abou Neeuteen; Or, the Well-intentioned
and the Double-minded
Adventure of a Courtier, Related by Himself to His Parton, an
Ameer of Egypt
Story of the Prince of Sind, and Fatima, Daughter of Amir Bin
Naomaun
Story of the Lovers of Syria; Or, the Heroine
Story of Hyjauje, the Tyrannical Governor of Coufeh, and the
Young Syed
Story of Ins Alwujjood and Wird Al Ikmaum, Daughter of Ibrahim,
Vizier to Sultan Shamikh
The Adventures of Mazin of Khorassaun
Story of the Sultan the Dervish, and the Barber’s Son
Adventures of Aleefa Daughter of Mherejaun Sultan of Hind, and
Eusuff, Son of Sohul, Sultan of Sind
Adventures of the Three Princes, Sons of the Sultan of China
Story of the Good Vizier Unjustly Imprisoned
Story of the Lady of Cairo and Her Four Gallants
The Cauzee’s Story
Story of the Merchant, His Daughter, and the Prince of Eerauk
Adventures of the Cauzee, His Wife, &c
The Sultan’s Story of Himself
Conclusion

The story of the enchanted horse.

The Nooroze, or the new day, which is the first of the year and spring, is observed as a solemn festival throughout all Persia, which has been continued from the time of idolatry; and our prophet’s religion, pure as it is, and true as we hold it, has not been able to abolish that heathenish custom, and the superstitious ceremonies which are observed, not only in the great cities, but celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings in every little town, village, and hamlet.

But the rejoicings are the most splendid at the court, for the variety of new and surprising spectacles, insomuch that strangers are invited from the neighbouring states, and the most remote parts, by the rewards and liberality of the sovereign, towards those who are the most excellent in their invention and contrivance.  In short, nothing in the rest of the world can compare with the magnificence of this festival.

One of these festival days, after the most ingenious artists of the country had repaired to Sheerauz, where the court then resided, had entertained the king and all the court with their productions, and had been bountifully and liberally rewarded according to their merit and to their satisfaction by the monarch; when the assembly was just breaking up, a Hindoo appeared at the foot of the throne, with an artificial horse richly caparisoned, and so naturally imitated, that at first sight he was taken for a living animal.

The Hindoo prostrated himself before the throne; and pointing to the horse, said to the emperor, “Though I present myself the last before your majesty, yet I can assure you that nothing shewn to-day is so wonderful as this horse, on which I beg your majesty would be pleased to cast your eyes.”  “I see nothing more in the horse,” said the emperor, “than the natural resemblance the workman has given him; which the skill of another workman may possibly execute as well or better.”

“Sir,” replied the Hindoo, “it is not for his outward form and appearance that I recommend my horse to your majesty’s examination as wonderful, but the use to which I can apply him, and which, when I have communicated the secret to them, any other persons may make of him.  Whenever I mount him, be it where it may, if I wish to transport myself through the air to the most distant part of the world, I can do it in a very short time.  This, sir, is the wonder of my horse; a wonder which nobody ever heard speak of, and which I offer to shew your majesty, if you command me.”

The emperor of Persia, who was fond of every thing that was curious, and notwithstanding the many prodigies of art he had seen had never beheld or heard of anything that came up to this, told the Hindoo, that nothing but the experience of what he asserted could convince him:  and that he was ready to see him perform what he had promised.

The Hindoo instantly put his foot into the stirrup, mounted his horse with admirable agility, and when he had fixed himself in the saddle, asked the emperor whither he pleased to command him.

About three leagues from Sheerauz there was a lofty mountain discernible from the large square before the palace, where the emperor, his court, and a great concourse of people, then were.  “Do you see that mountain?” said the emperor, pointing to it; “it is not a great distance from hence, but it is far enough to judge of the speed you can make in going and returning.  But because it is not possible for the eye to follow you so far, as a proof that you have been there, I expect that you will bring me a branch of a palm-tree that grows at the bottom of the hill.”

The emperor of Persia had no sooner declared his will than the Hindoo turned a peg, which was in the hollow of the horse’s neck, just by the pummel of the saddle; and in an instant the horse rose off the ground and carried his rider into the air with the rapidity of lightning to such a height, that those who had the strongest sight could not discern him, to the admiration of the emperor and all the spectators.  Within less than a quarter of an hour they saw him returning with the palm branch in his hand; but before he descended, he took two or three turns in the air over the spot, amid the acclamations of all the people; then alighted on the spot whence he had set off, without receiving the least shock from the horse to disorder him.  He dismounted, and going up to the throne, prostrated himself, and laid the branch of the palm-tree at the feet of the emperor.

The emperor, who had viewed with no less admiration than astonishment this unheard-of sight which the Hindoo had exhibited, conceived a great desire to have the horse; and as he persuaded himself that he should not find it a difficult matter to treat with the Hindoo, for whatever sum of money he should value it at, began to regard it as the most valuable thing in his treasury.  “Judging of thy horse by his outward appearance,” said he to the Hindoo, “I did not think him so much worth my consideration.  As you have shewn me his merits, I am obliged to you for undeceiving me; and to prove to you how much I esteem it, I will purchase him of you, if he is to be sold.”

“Sir,” replied the Hindoo, “I never doubted that your majesty, who has the character of the most liberal prince on earth, would set a just value on my work as soon as I had shewn you on what account he was worthy your attention.  I also foresaw that you would not only admire and commend it, but would desire to have it.  Though I know his intrinsic value, and that my continuing master of him would render my name immortal in the world; yet I am not so fond of fame but I can resign him, to gratify your majesty; however, in making this declaration, I have another to add, without which I cannot resolve to part with him, and perhaps you may not approve of it.

“Your majesty will not be displeased,” continued the Hindoo, “if I tell you that I did not buy this horse, but obtained him of the inventor, by giving him my only daughter in marriage, and promising at the same time never to sell him; but if I parted with him to exchange him for something that I should value beyond all else.”

The Hindoo was proceeding, when at the word exchange, the emperor of Persia interrupted him.  “I am willing,” said he, “to give you whatever you may ask in exchange.  You know my kingdom is large, and contains many great, rich, and populous cities; I will give you the choice of which you like best, in full sovereignty for life.”

This exchange seemed royal and noble to the whole court; but was much below what the Hindoo had proposed to himself, who had raised his thoughts much higher.  “I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for the offer you make me,” answered he, “and cannot thank you enough for your generosity; yet I must beg of you not to be displeased if I have the presumption to tell you, that I cannot resign my horse, but by receiving the hand of the princess your daughter as my wife:  this is the only price at which I can part with my property.”

The courtiers about the emperor of Persia could not forbear laughing aloud at this extravagant demand of the Hindoo; but the prince Firoze Shaw, the eldest son of the emperor, and presumptive heir to the crown, could not hear it without indignation.  The emperor was of a very different opinion, and thought he might sacrifice the princess of Persia to the Hindoo, to satisfy his curiosity.  He remained however undetermined, considering what he should do.

Prince Firoze Shaw, who saw his father hesitated what answer to make, began to fear lest he should comply with the Hindoo’s demand, and regarded it as not only injurious to the royal dignity, and to his sister, but also to himself; therefore to anticipate his father, he said, “Sir, I hope your majesty will forgive me for daring to ask, if it is possible your majesty should hesitate about a denial to so insolent a demand from such an insignificant fellow, and so scandalous a juggler? or give him reason to flatter himself a moment with being allied to one of the most powerful monarchs in the world?  I beg of you to consider what you owe to yourself, to your own blood, and the high rank of your ancestors.”

“Son,” replied the emperor of Persia, “I much approve of your remonstrance, and am sensible of your zeal for preserving the lustre of your birth; but you do not consider sufficiently the excellence of this horse; nor that the Hindoo, if I should refuse him, may make the offer somewhere else, where this nice point of honour may be waived.  I shall be in the utmost despair if another prince should boast of having exceeded me in generosity, and deprived me of the glory of possessing what I esteem as the most singular and wonderful thing in the world.  I will not say I consent to grant him what he asked.  Perhaps he has not well considered his exorbitant demand:  and putting my daughter the princess out of the question, I may make another agreement with him that will answer his purpose as well.  But before I conclude the bargain with him, I should be glad that you would examine the horse, try him yourself, and give me your opinion.”

As it is natural for us to flatter ourselves in what we desire, the Hindoo fancied, from what he had heard, that the emperor was not entirely averse to his alliance, and that the prince might become more favourable to him; therefore, he expressed much joy, ran before the prince to help him to mount, and shewed him how to guide and manage the horse.

The prince mounted without the Hindoo’s assisting him; and no sooner had he got his feet in both stirrups, but without staying for the artist’s advice, he turned the peg he had seen him use, when instantly the horse darted into the air, quick as an arrow shot out of a bow by the most adroit archer; and in a few moments the emperor his father and the numerous assembly lost sight of him.  Neither horse nor prince were to be seen.  The Hindoo, alarmed at what had happened, prostrated himself before the throne, and said, “Your majesty must have remarked the prince was so hasty, that he would not permit me to give him the necessary instructions to govern my horse.  From what he saw me do, he was ambitious of shewing that he wanted not my advice.  He was too eager to shew his address, but knows not the way, which I was going to shew him, to turn the horse, and make him descend at the wish of his rider.  Therefore, the favour I ask of your majesty is, not to make me accountable for what accidents may befall him; you are too just to impute to me any misfortune that may attend him.”

This address of the Hindoo much surprised and afflicted the emperor, who saw the danger his son was in to be inevitable, if, as the Hindoo said, there was a secret to bring him back, different from that which carried him away; and asked, in a passion, why he did not call him the moment he ascended?

“Sir,” answered the Hindoo, “your majesty saw as well as I with what rapidity the horse flew away.  The surprise I was then, and still am in, deprived me of the use of my speech; but if I could have spoken, he was got too far to hear me.  If he had heard me, he knew not the secret to bring him back, which, through his impatience, he would not stay to learn.  But, sir,” added he, “there is room to hope that the prince, when he finds himself at a loss, will perceive another peg, and as soon as he turns that, the horse will cease to rise, and descend to the ground, when he may turn him to what place he pleases by guiding him with the bridle.”

Notwithstanding all these arguments of the Hindoo, which carried great appearance of probability, the emperor of Persia was much alarmed at the evident danger of his son.  “I suppose,” replied he, “it is very uncertain whether my son may perceive the other peg, and make a right use of it; may not the horse, instead of lighting on the ground, fall upon some rock, or tumble into the sea with him?”

“Sir,” replied the Hindoo, “I can deliver your majesty from this apprehension, by assuring you, that the horse crosses seas without ever falling into them, and always carries his rider wherever he may wish to go.  And your majesty may assure yourself, that if the prince does but find out the other peg I mentioned, the horse will carry him where he pleases.  It is not to be supposed that he will stop any where but where he can find assistance, and make himself known.”

“Be it as it may,” replied the emperor of Persia, “as I cannot depend upon the assurance you give me, your head shall answer for my son’s life, if he does not return safe in three days’ time, or I should hear that he is alive.”  He then ordered his officers to secure the Hindoo, and keep him close prisoner; after which he retired to his palace in affliction that the festival of Nooroze should have proved so inauspicious.

In the mean time the prince was carried through the air with prodigious velocity; and in less than an hour’s time had ascended so high, that he could not distinguish any thing on the earth, but mountains and plains seemed confounded together.  It was then he began to think of returning, and conceived he might do this by turning the same peg the contrary way, and pulling the bridle at the same time.  But when he found that the horse still rose with the same swiftness, his alarm was great.  He turned the peg several times, one way and the other, but all in vain.  It was then he grew sensible of his fault, in not having learnt the necessary precautions to guide the horse before he mounted.  He immediately apprehended the great danger he was in, but that apprehension did not deprive him of his reason.  He examined the horse’s head and neck with attention, and perceived behind the right ear another peg, smaller than the other.  He turned that peg, and presently perceived that he descended in the same oblique manner as he had mounted, but not so swiftly.

Night had overshadowed that part of the earth over which the prince was when he found out and turned the small peg; and as the horse descended, he by degrees lost sight of the sun, till it grew quite dark; insomuch that, instead of choosing what place he would go to, he was forced to let the bridle lie upon the horse’s neck, and wait patiently till he alighted, though not without the dread lest it should be in the desert, a river, or the sea.

At last the horse stopped upon some solid substance about midnight, and the prince dismounted very faint and hungry, having eaten nothing since the morning, when he came out of the palace with his father to assist at the festival.  He found himself to be on the terrace of a magnificent palace, surrounded with a balustrade of white marble, breast high; and groping about, reached a staircase, which led down into an apartment, the door of which was half open.

Few but prince Firoze Shaw would have ventured to descend those stairs dark as it was, and in the danger he exposed himself to from friends or foes.  But no consideration could stop him.  “I do not come,” said he to himself, “to do anybody harm; and certainly, whoever meets or sees me first, and finds that I have no arms in my hands, will not attempt any thing against my life, before they hear what I have to say for myself.”  After this reflection, he opened the door wider, without making any noise, went softly down the stairs, that he might not awaken anybody; and when he came to a landing-place on the staircase, found the door of a great hall, that had a light in it, open.

The prince stopped at the door, and listening, heard no other noise than the snoring of some people who were fast asleep.  He advanced a little into the room, and by the light of a lamp saw that those persons were black eunuchs, with naked sabres laid by them; which was enough to inform him that this was the guard-chamber of some sultan or princess; which latter it proved to be.

In the next room to this the princess lay, as appeared by the light, the door being open, through a silk curtain, which drew before the door-way, whither prince Firoze Shaw advanced on tip-toe, without waking the eunuchs.  He drew aside the curtain, went in, and without staying to observe the magnificence of the chamber, gave his attention to something of greater importance.  He saw many beds; only one of them on a sofa, the rest on the floor.  The princess slept in the first, and her women in the others.

This distinction was enough to direct the prince.  He crept softly towards the bed, without waking either the princess or her women, and beheld a beauty so extraordinary, that he was charmed, and inflamed with love at the first sight.  “O heavens!” said he to himself, “has my fate brought me hither to deprive me of my liberty, which hitherto I have always preserved?  How can I avoid certain slavery, when those eyes shall open, since, without doubt, they complete the lustre of this assemblage of charms!  I must quickly resolve, since I cannot stir without being my own murderer; for so has necessity ordained.”

After these reflections on his situation, and on the princess’s beauty, he fell on his knees, and twitching gently the princess’s sleeve, pulled it towards him.  The princess opened her eyes, and seeing a handsome man on his knees, was in great surprise; yet seemed to shew no sign of fear.

The prince availed himself of this favourable moment, bowed his head to the ground, and rising said, “Beautiful princess, by the most extraordinary and wonderful adventure, you see at your feet a suppliant prince, son of the emperor of Persia, who was yesterday morning in his court, at the celebration of a solemn festival, but is now in a strange country, in danger of his life, if you have not the goodness and generosity to afford him your assistance and protection.  These I implore, adorable princess, with confidence that you will not refuse me.  I have the more ground to persuade myself, as so much beauty and majesty cannot entertain inhumanity.”

The personage to whom prince Firoze Shaw so happily addressed himself was the princess of Bengal, eldest daughter of the Rajah of that kingdom, who had built this palace at a small distance from his capital, whither she went to take the benefit of the country air.  After she had heard the prince with all the candour he could desire, she replied with equal goodness, “Prince, you are not in a barbarous country; take courage; hospitality, humanity, and politeness are to be met with in the kingdom of Bengal, as well as in that of Persia.  It is not merely I who grant you the protection you ask; you not only have found it in my palace, but will meet it throughout the whole kingdom; you may believe me, and depend on what I say.”

The prince of Persia would have thanked the princess for her civility, and had already bowed down his head to return the compliment; but she would not give him leave to speak.  “Notwithstanding I desire,” said she, “to know by what miracle you have come hither from the capital of Persia in so short a time; and by what enchantment you have been able to penetrate so far as to come to my apartment, and to have evaded the vigilance of my guards; yet, as it is impossible but you must want some refreshment, and regarding you as a welcome guest, I will waive my curiosity, and give orders to my women to regale you, and shew you an apartment, that you may rest yourself after your fatigue, and be better able to satisfy my curiosity.”

The princess’s women, who awoke at the first words which the prince addressed to the princess, were in the utmost surprise to see a man at the princess’s feet, as they could not conceive how he had got thither, without waking them or the eunuchs.  They no sooner comprehended the princess’s intentions, than they were ready to obey her commands.  They each took a wax candle, of which there were great numbers lighted up in the room; and after the prince had respectfully taken leave, went before and conducted him into a handsome chamber; where, while some were preparing the bed, others went into the kitchen; and notwithstanding it was so unseasonable an hour, they did not make prince Firoze Shaw wait long, but brought him presently a collation; and when he had eaten as much as he chose, removed the trays, and left him to taste the sweets of repose.

In the mean time, the princess of Bengal was so struck with the charms, wit, politeness, and other good qualities which she had discovered in her short interview with the prince, that she could not sleep:  but when her women came into her room again asked them if they had taken care of him, if he wanted any thing; and particularly, what they thought of him?

The women, after they had satisfied her as to the first queries, answered to the last:  “We do not know what you may think of him, but, for our parts, we are of opinion you would be very happy if your father would marry you to so amiable a youth; for there is not a prince in all the kingdom of Bengal to be compared to him; nor can we hear that any of the neighbouring princes are worthy of you.”

This flattering compliment was not displeasing to the princess of Bengal; but as she had no mind to declare her sentiments, she imposed silence, telling them that they talked without reflection, bidding them return to rest, and let her sleep.

The next day the princess took more pains in dressing and adjusting herself at the glass than she had ever done before.  She never tired her women’s patience so much, by making them do and undo the same thing several times.  She adorned her head, neck, arms, and waist, with the finest and largest diamonds she possessed.  The habit she put on was one of the richest stuffs of the Indies, of a most beautiful colour, and made only for kings, princes, and princesses.  After she had consulted her glass, and asked her women, one after another, if any thing was wanting to her attire, she sent to know, if the prince of Persia was awake; and as she never doubted but that, if he was up and dressed, he would ask leave to come and pay his respects to her, she charged the messenger to tell him she would make him the visit, and she had her reasons for this.

The prince of Persia, who by the night’s rest had recovered the fatigue he had undergone the day before, had just dressed himself, when he received the princess of Bengal’s compliments by one of her women.  Without giving the lady who brought the message leave to communicate it, he asked her, if it was proper for him then to go and pay his respects to the princess; and when the lady had acquitted herself of her errand, he replied, “It shall be as the princess thinks fit; I came here to be solely at her pleasure.”

As soon as the princess understood that the prince of Persia waited for her, she immediately went to pay him a visit.  After mutual compliments, the prince asking pardon for having waked the princess out of a profound sleep, and the princess inquiring after his health, and how he had rested, the princess sat down on a sofa, as did also the prince, though at some distance, out of respect.

The princess then resuming the conversation, said, “I would have received you, prince, in the chamber in which you found me last night; but as the chief of my eunuchs has the liberty of entering it, and never comes further without my leave, from my impatience to hear the surprising adventure which procured me the happiness of seeing you, I chose to come hither, that we may not be interrupted; therefore I beg of you to give me that satisfaction, which will highly oblige me.”

Prince Firoze Shaw, to gratify the princess of Bengal, began with describing the festival of the Nooroze, and mentioned the shows which had amazed the court of Persia, and the people of Sheerauz.  Afterwards he came to the enchanted horse; the description of which, with the account of the wonders which the Hindoo had performed before so august an assembly, convinced the princess that nothing of that kind could be imagined more surprising in the world.  “You may well think, charming princess,” continued the prince of Persia, “that the emperor my father, who cares not what he gives for any thing that is rare and curious, would be very desirous to purchase such a curiosity.  He asked the Hindoo what he would have for him; who made him an extravagant reply, telling him, that he had not bought him, but taken him in exchange for his only daughter, and could not part with him but on the like condition, which was to have his consent to marry the princess my sister.

“The crowd of courtiers, who stood about the emperor my father, hearing the extravagance of this proposal, laughed loudly; I for my part conceived such great indignation, that I could not disguise it; and the more, because I saw that my father was doubtful what answer he should give.  In short, I believe he would have granted him what he asked, if I had not represented to him how injurious it would be to his honour; yet my remonstrance could not bring him entirely to quit his design of sacrificing the princess my sister to so despicable a person.  He fancied he should bring me over to his opinion, if once I could comprehend, as he imagined he did, the singular worth of this horse.  With this view he would have me mount, and make a trial of him myself.

“To please my father, I mounted the horse, and as soon as I was upon his back, put my hand on a peg, as I had seen the Hindoo do before, to make the horse mount into the air, without stopping to take instructions of the owner for his guidance or descent.  The instant I touched the peg, the horse ascended, as swift as an arrow shot out of a bow, and I was presently at such a distance from the earth that I could not distinguish any object.  From the swiftness of the motion I was for some time unapprehensive of the danger to which I was exposed; when I grew sensible of it, I endeavoured to turn the peg the contrary way.  But the experiment would not answer my expectation, for still the horse rose, and carried me a greater distance from the earth.  At last I perceived another peg, which I turned, and then I grew sensible that the horse descended towards the earth, and presently found myself so surrounded with darkness, that it was impossible for me to guide the machine.  In this condition I laid the bridle on his neck, and trusted myself to the will of God to dispose of my fate.

“At length the horse stopped, I got off his back, and examining whereabouts I might be, perceived myself on the terrace of this palace, and found the door of the staircase half open.  I came softly down the stairs, and seeing a door open, put my head into the room, perceived some eunuchs asleep, and a great light in an adjoining chamber.  The necessity I was under, notwithstanding the inevitable danger to which I should be exposed, if the eunuchs had waked, inspired me with the boldness, or rather rashness, to cross that room to get to the other.

“It is needless,” added the prince, “to tell you the rest, since you are not unacquainted with all that passed afterwards.  But I am obliged in duty to thank you for your goodness and generosity, and to beg of you to let me know how I may shew my gratitude.  According to the law of nations I am already your slave, and cannot make you an offer of my person; there only remains my heart:  but, alas! princess, what do I say?  My heart is no longer my own, your charms have forced it from me, but in such a manner, that I will never ask for it again, but yield it up; give me leave, therefore, to declare you mistress both of my heart and inclination.”

These last words of the prince were pronounced with such an air and tone, that the princess of Bengal never doubted of the effect she had expected from her charms; neither did she seem to resent the precipitate declaration of the prince of Persia.  Her blushes served but to heighten her beauty, and render her more amiable in his eyes.

As soon as she had recovered herself, she replied, “Prince, you have given me sensible pleasure, by telling me your wonderful adventure.  But, on the other hand, I can hardly forbear shuddering, when I think on the height you were in the air; and though I have the good fortune to see you here safe and well, I was in pain till you came to that part where the horse fortunately descended upon the terrace of my palace.  The same thing might have happened in a thousand other places.  I am glad that chance has given me the preference to the whole world, and of the opportunity of letting you know, that it could not have conducted you to any place where you could have been received with greater pleasure.

“But, prince,” continued she, “I should think myself offended, if I believed that the thought you mentioned of being my slave was serious, and that it did not proceed from your politeness rather than from a sincerity of sentiment; for, by the reception I gave you yesterday, you might assure yourself you are here as much at liberty as in the midst of the court of Persia.

“As to your heart,” added the princess, in a tone which shewed nothing less than a refusal, “as I am persuaded that you have not lived so long without disposing of it, and that you could not fail of making choice of a princess who deserves it, I should be sorry to give you an occasion to be guilty of infidelity to her.”

Prince Firoze Shaw would have protested that when he left Persia he was master of his own heart:  but, at that instant, one of the princess’s ladies in waiting came to tell that a collation was served up.

This interruption delivered the prince and princess from an explanation, which would have been equally embarrassing to both, and of which they stood in need.  The princess of Bengal was fully convinced of the prince of Persia’s sincerity; and the prince, though the princess had not explained herself, judged nevertheless from some words she had let fall, that he had no reason to complain.

As the lady held the door open, the princess of Bengal said to the prince, rising off her seat, as he did also from his, “I am not used to eat so early; but as I fancied you might have had but an indifferent supper last night, I ordered breakfast to be got ready sooner than ordinary.”  After this compliment she led him into a magnificent hall, where a cloth was laid covered with great plenty of choice and excellent viands; and as soon as they were seated, many beautiful slaves of the princess, richly dressed, began a most agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music, which lasted the whole time of eating.

This concert was so sweet and well managed, that it did not in the least interrupt the prince and princess’s conversation.  The prince served the princess with the choicest of every thing, and strove to outdo her in civility, both by words and actions, which she returned with many new compliments:  and in this reciprocal commerce of civilities and attentions, love made a greater progress in both than a concerted interview would have promoted.

When they rose, the princess conducted the prince into a large and magnificent saloon, embellished with paintings in blue and gold, and richly furnished; there they both sat down in a balcony, which afforded a most agreeable prospect into the palace garden, which prince Firoze Shaw admired for the vast variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees, which were full as beautiful as those of Persia, but quite different.  Here taking the opportunity of entering into conversation with the princess, he said, “I always believed, madam, that no part of the world but Persia afforded such stately palaces and beautiful gardens; but now I see, that other great monarchs know as well how to build mansions suitable to their power and greatness; and if there is a difference in the manner of building, there is none in the degree of grandeur and magnificence.”

“Prince,” replied the princess of Bengal, “as I have no idea of the palaces of Persia, I cannot judge of the comparison you have made of mine.  But, however sincere you seem to be, I can hardly think it just, but rather incline to believe it a compliment:  I will not despise my palace before you; you have too good an eye, too good a taste not to form a sound judgment.  But I assure you, I think it very indifferent when I compare it with the king my father’s, which far exceeds it for grandeur, beauty, and richness; you shall tell me yourself what you think of it, when you have seen it:  for since a chance has brought you so nigh to the capital of this kingdom, I do not doubt but you will see it, and make my father a visit, that he may pay you all the honour due to a prince of your rank and merit.”

The princess flattered herself, that by exciting in the prince of Persia a curiosity to see the capital of Bengal, and to visit her father, the king, seeing him so handsome, wise, and accomplished a prince, might perhaps resolve to propose an alliance with him, by offering her to him as a wife.  And as she was well persuaded she was not indifferent to the prince, and that he would be pleased with the proposal, she hoped to attain to the utmost of her wishes, and preserve all the decorum becoming a princess, who would appear resigned to the will of her king and father; but the prince of Persia did not return her an answer according to her expectation.

“Princess,” he replied, “the preference which you give the king of Bengal’s palace to your own is enough to induce me to believe it much exceeds it:  and as to the proposal of my going and paying my respects to the king your father, I should not only do myself a pleasure, but an honour.  But judge, princess, yourself, would you advise me to present myself before so great a monarch, like an adventurer, without attendants, and a train suitable to my rank?”

“Prince,” replied the princess, “let not that give you any pain; if you will but go, you shall want no money to have what train and attendants you please:  I will furnish you; and we have traders here of all nations in great numbers, and you may make choice of as many as you please to form your household.”

Prince Firoze Shaw penetrated the princess of Bengal’s intention, and this sensible mark of her love still augmented his passion, which, notwithstanding its violence, made him not forget his duty.  Without any hesitation he replied, “Princess, I should most willingly accept of the obliging offer you make me, for which I cannot sufficiently shew my gratitude, if the uneasiness my father must feel on account of my absence did not prevent me.  I should be unworthy of the tenderness he has always had for me, if I should not return as soon as possible to calm his fears.  I know him so well, that while I have the happiness of enjoying the conversation of so lovely a princess, I am persuaded he is plunged into the deepest grief, and has lost all hopes of seeing me again.  I trust you will do me the justice to believe, that I cannot, without ingratitude, and being guilty of a crime, dispense with going to restore to him that life, which a too long deferred return may have endangered already.

“After this, princess,” continued the prince of Persia, “if you will permit me, and think me worthy to aspire to the happiness of becoming your husband, as my father has always declared that he never would constrain me in my choice, I should find it no difficult matter to get leave to return, not as a stranger, but as a prince, to contract an alliance with your father by our marriage; and I am persuaded that the emperor will be overjoyed when I tell him with what generosity you received me, though a stranger in distress.”

The princess of Bengal was too reasonable, after what the prince of Persia had said, to persist any longer in persuading him to pay a visit to the raja of Bengal, or to ask any thing of him contrary to his duty and honour.  But she was much alarmed to find he thought of so sudden a departure; fearing, that if he took his leave of her so soon, instead of remembering his promise, he would forget when he ceased to see her.  To divert him from his purpose, she said to him, “Prince, my intention of proposing a visit to my father was not to oppose so just a duty as that you mention, and which I did not foresee.  But I cannot approve of your going so soon as you propose; at least grant me the favour I ask of a little longer acquaintance; and since I have had the happiness to have you alight in the kingdom of Bengal, rather than in the midst of a desert, or on the top of some steep craggy rock, from which it would have been impossible for you to descend, I desire you will stay long enough to enable you to give a better account at the court of Persia of what you may see here.”

The sole end the princess had in this request was, that the prince of Persia, by a longer stay, might become insensibly more passionately enamoured of her charms; hoping thereby that his ardent desire of returning would diminish, and then he might be brought to appear in public, and pay a visit to the Rajah of Bengal.  The prince of Persia could not well refuse her the favour she asked, after the kind reception she had given him; and therefore politely complied with her request; and the princess’s thoughts were directed to render his stay agreeable by all the amusements she could devise.

Nothing went forward for several days but concerts of music, accompanied with magnificent feasts and collations in the gardens, or hunting-parties in the vicinity of the palace, which abounded with all sorts of game, stags, hinds, and fallow deer, and other beasts peculiar to the kingdom of Bengal, which the princess could pursue without danger.  After the chase, the prince and princess met in some beautiful spot, where a carpet was spread, and cushions laid for their accommodation.  There resting themselves, after their violent exercise, they conversed on various subjects.  The princess took pains to turn the conversation on the grandeur, power, riches, and government of Persia; that from the prince’s replies she might have an opportunity to talk of the kingdom of Bengal, and its advantages, and engage him to resolve to make a longer stay there; but she was disappointed in her expectations.

The prince of Persia, without the least exaggeration, gave so advantageous an account of the extent of the kingdom of Persia, its magnificence and riches, its military force, its commerce by sea and land with the most remote parts of the world, some of which were unknown even to him; the vast number of large cities it contained, almost as populous as that which the emperor had chosen for his residence, where he had palaces furnished ready to receive him at all seasons of the year; so that he had his choice always to enjoy a perpetual spring; that before he had concluded, the princess found the kingdom of Bengal to be very much inferior to that of Persia in a great many respects.  When he had finished his relation, he begged of her to entertain him with a description of Bengal.

The princess after much entreaty gave prince Firoze Shaw that satisfaction; but by lessening a great many advantages the kingdom of Bengal was well known to have over that of Persia, she betrayed the disposition she felt to accompany him, so that he believed she would consent at the first proposition he should make; but he thought it would not be proper to make it till he had shewed her so much deference as to stay with her long enough to make the blame fall on herself, in case she wished to detain him from returning to his father.

Two whole months the prince of Persia abandoned himself entirely to the will of the princess of Bengal, yielding to all the amusements she contrived for him, for she neglected nothing to divert him, as if she thought he had nothing else to do but to pass his whole life with her in this manner.  But he now declared seriously he could not stay longer, and begged of her to give him leave to return to his father; repeating again the promise he had made her to come back soon in a style worthy of her and himself, and to demand her in marriage of the Rajah of Bengal.

“And, princess,” observed the prince of Persia, “that you may not suspect the truth of what I say; and that by my asking this permission you may not rank me among those false lovers who forget the object of their affection as soon as absent from them; to shew that my passion is real, and not feigned, and that life cannot be pleasant to me when absent from so lovely a princess, whose love to me I cannot doubt is mutual; I would presume, were I not afraid you would be offended at my request, to ask the favour of taking you along with me.”

As the prince saw that the princess blushed at these words, without any mark of anger, he proceeded, and said, “Princess, as for my father’s consent, and the reception he will give you, I venture to assure you he will receive you with pleasure into his alliance; and as for the Rajah of Bengal, after all the love and tender regard he has always expressed for you, he must be the reverse of what you have described him, an enemy to your repose and happiness, if he should not receive in a friendly manner the embassy which my father will send to him for his approbation of our marriage.”

The princess returned no answer to this address of the prince of Persia; but her silence, and eyes cast down, were sufficient to inform him that she had no reluctance to accompany him into Persia.  The only difficulty she felt was, that the prince knew not well enough how to govern the horse, and she was apprehensive of being involved with him in the same difficulty as when he first made the experiment.  But the prince soon removed her fear, by assuring her she might trust herself with him, for that after the experience he had acquired, he defied the Hindoo himself to manage him better.  She thought therefore only of concerting measures to get off with him so secretly, that nobody belonging to the palace should have the least suspicion of their design.

The next morning, a little before day-break, when all the attendants were asleep, they went upon the terrace of the palace.  The prince turned the horse towards Persia, and placed him where the princess could easily get up behind him; which she had no sooner done, and was well settled with her arms about his waist, for her better security, than he turned the peg, when the horse mounted into the air, and making his usual haste, under the guidance of the prince, in two hours time the prince discovered the capital of Persia.

He would not alight at the great square from whence he had set out, nor in the palace, but directed his course towards a pleasure-house at a little distance from the capital.  He led the princess into a handsome apartment, where he told her, that to do her all the honour that was due to her, he would go and inform his father of their arrival, and return to her immediately.  He ordered the housekeeper of the palace, who was then present, to provide the princess with whatever she had occasion for.

After the prince had taken his leave of the princess, he ordered a horse to be saddled, which he mounted, after sending back the housekeeper to the princess, with orders to provide her refreshments immediately, and then set forwards for the palace.  As he passed through the streets he was received with acclamations by the people, who were overjoyed to see him again.  The emperor his father was giving audience, when he appeared before him in the midst of his council.  He received him with ecstacy, and embracing him with tears of joy and tenderness, asked him, what was become of the Hindoo’s horse.

This question gave the prince an opportunity of describing the embarrassment and danger he was in when the horse ascended into the air, and how he had arrived at last at the princess of Bengal’s palace, the kind reception he had met with there, and that the motive which had induced him to stay so long with her was the affection she had shewn him; also, that after promising to marry her, he had persuaded her to accompany him into Persia.  “But, sir,” added the prince, “I felt assured that you would not refuse your consent, and have brought her with me on the enchanted horse, to a palace where your majesty often goes for your pleasure; and have left her there, till I could return and assure her that my promise was not in vain.”

After these words, the prince prostrated himself before the emperor to obtain his consent, when his father raised him up, embraced him a second time, and said to him, “Son, I not only consent to your marriage with the princess of Bengal, but will go and meet her myself, and thank her for the obligation I in particular have to her, and will bring her to my palace, and celebrate your nuptials this day.”

The emperor now gave orders for his court to make preparations for the princess’s entry; that the rejoicings should be announced by the royal band of military music, and that the Hindoo should be fetched out of prison and brought before him.  When the Hindoo was conducted before the emperor, he said to him, “I secured thy person, that thy life, though not a sufficient victim to my rage and grief, might answer for that of the prince my son, whom, however, thanks to God!  I have found again:  go, take your horse, and never let me see your face more.”

As the Hindoo had learned of those who brought him out of prison that prince Firoze Shaw was returned with a princess, and was also informed of the place where he had alighted and left her, and that the emperor was making preparations to go and bring her to his palace; as soon as he got out of the presence, he bethought himself of being revenged upon the emperor and the prince.  Without losing any time, he went directly to the palace, and addressing himself to the keeper, told him, he came from the prince of Persia for the princess of Bengal, and to conduct her behind him through the air to the emperor, who waited in the great square of his palace to gratify the whole court and city of Sheerauz with that wonderful sight.

The palace-keeper, who knew the Hindoo, and that the emperor had imprisoned him, gave the more credit to what he said, because he saw that he was at liberty.  He presented him to the princess of Bengal; who no sooner understood that he came from the prince of Persia than she consented to what the prince, as she thought, had desired of her.

The Hindoo, overjoyed at his success, and the ease with which he had accomplished his villany, mounted his horse, took the princess behind him, with the assistance of the keeper, turned the peg, and instantly the horse mounted into the air.

At the same time the emperor of Persia, attended by his court, was on the road to the palace where the princess of Bengal had been left, and the prince of Persia was advanced before, to prepare the princess to receive his father; when the Hindoo, to brave them both, and revenge himself for the ill-treatment he had received, appeared over their heads with his prize.

When the emperor of Persia saw the ravisher, he stopped.  His surprise and affliction were the more sensible, because it was not in his power to punish so high an affront.  He loaded him with a thousand imprecations, as did also all the courtiers, who were witnesses of so signal a piece of insolence and unparalleled artifice and treachery.

The Hindoo, little moved with their curses, which just reached his ears, continued his way, while the emperor, extremely mortified at so great an insult, but more so that he could not punish the author, returned to his palace in rage and vexation.

But what was prince Firoze Shaw’s grief at beholding the Hindoo hurrying away the princess of Bengal, whom he loved so passionately that he could not live without her!  At a spectacle so little expected he was confounded, and before he could deliberate with himself what measures to pursue, the horse was out of sight.  He could not resolve how to act, whether he should return to his father’s palace, and shut himself in his apartment, to give himself entirely up to his affliction, without attempting to pursue the ravisher.  But as his generosity, love, and courage, would not suffer this, he continued on his way to the palace where he had left his princess.

When he arrived, the palace-keeper, who was by this time convinced of his fatal credulity, in believing the artful Hindoo, threw himself at his feet with tears in his eyes, accused himself of the crime, which unintentionally he had committed, and condemned himself to die by his hand.  “Rise,” said the prince to him, “I do not impute the loss of my princess to thee, but to my own want of precaution.  But not to lose time, fetch me a dervish’s habit, and take care you do not give the least hint that it is for me.”

Not far from this palace there stood a convent of dervishes, the superior of which was the palace-keeper’s particular friend.  He went to his chief, and telling him that a considerable officer at court and a man of worth, to whom he had been very much obliged and wished to favour, by giving him an opportunity to withdraw from some sudden displeasure of the emperor, readily obtained a complete dervish’s habit, and carried it to prince Firoze Shaw.  The prince immediately pulled off his own dress, put it on, and being so disguised, and provided with a box of jewels, which he had brought as a present to the princess, left the palace, uncertain which way to go, but resolved not to return till he had found out his princess, and brought her back again, or perish in the attempt.

But to return to the Hindoo; he governed his enchanted horse so well, that he arrived early next morning in a wood, near the capital of the kingdom of Cashmeer.  Being hungry, and concluding the princess was so also, he alighted in that wood, in an open part of it, and left the princess on a grassy spot, close to a rivulet of clear fresh water.

During the Hindoo’s absence, the princess of Bengal, who knew that she was in the power of a base ravisher, whose violence she dreaded, thought of escaping from him, and seeking out for some sanctuary.  But as she had eaten scarcely any thing on her arrival at the palace, was so faint, that she could not execute her design, but was forced to abandon it and stay where she was, without any other resource than her courage, and a firm resolution rather to suffer death than be unfaithful to the prince of Persia.  When the Hindoo returned, she did not wait to be entreated, but ate with him, and recovered herself enough to answer with courage to the insolent language he now began to hold to her.  After many threats, as she saw that the Hindoo was preparing to use violence, she rose up to make resistance, and by her cries and shrieks drew towards them a company of horsemen, which happened to be the sultan of Cashmeer and his attendants, who, as they were returning from hunting, happily for the princess of Bengal, passed through that part of the wood, and ran to her assistance, at the noise she made.

The sultan addressed himself to the Hindoo, demanded who he was, and wherefore he ill treated the lady?  The Hindoo, with great impudence, replied, “That she was his wife, and what had any one to do with his quarrel with her?”

The princess, who neither knew the rank nor quality of the person who came so seasonably to her relief, told the Hindoo he was a liar; and said to the sultan, “My lord, whoever you are whom Heaven has sent to my assistance, have compassion on a princess, and give no credit to that impostor.  Heaven forbid that I should be the wife of so vile and despicable a Hindoo! a wicked magician, who has forced me away from the prince of Persia, to whom I was going to be united, and has brought me hither on the enchanted horse you behold there.”

The princess of Bengal had no occasion to say more to persuade the sultan of Cashmeer that what she told him was truth.  Her beauty, majestic air, and tears, spoke sufficiently for her.  Justly enraged at the insolence of the Hindoo, he ordered his guards to surround him, and strike off his head:  which sentence was immediately executed.

The princess, thus delivered from the persecution of the Hindoo, fell into another no less afflicting.  The sultan conducted her to his palace, where he lodged her in the most magnificent apartment, next his own, commanded a great number of women slaves to attend her, and ordered a guard of eunuchs.  He led her himself into the apartment he had assigned her; where, without giving her time to thank him for the great obligation she had received, he said to her, “As I am certain, princess, that you must want rest, I will take my leave of you till to-morrow, when you will be better able to relate to me the circumstances of this strange adventure;” and then left her.

The princess of Bengal’s joy was inexpressible at finding herself delivered from the violence of the Hindoo, of whom she could not think without horror.  She flattered herself that the sultan of Cashmeer would complete his generosity by sending her back to the prince of Persia when she should have told him her story, and asked that favour of him; but she was much deceived in these hopes; for her deliverer had resolved to marry her himself the next day; and for that end had ordered rejoicings to be made by day-break, by beating of drums, sounding of trumpets, and other instruments expressive of joy; which not only echoed through the palace, but throughout the whole city.

The princess of Bengal was awakened by these tumultuous concerts; but attributed them to a very different cause from the true one.  When the sultan of Cashmeer, who had given orders that he should be informed when the princess was ready to receive a visit, came to wait upon her; after he had inquired after her health, he acquainted her that all those rejoicings were to render their nuptials the more solemn; and at the same time desired her assent to the union.  This declaration put her into such agitation that she fainted away.

The women-slaves, who were present, ran to her assistance; and the sultan did all he could to bring her to herself, though it was a long time before they succeeded.  But when she recovered, rather than break the promise she had made to prince Firoze Shaw, by consenting to marry the sultan of Cashmeer, who had proclaimed their nuptials before he had asked her consent, she resolved to feign madness.  She began to utter the most extravagant expressions before the sultan, and even rose off her seat as if to attack him; insomuch that he was greatly alarmed and afflicted, that he had made such a proposal so unseasonably.

When he found that her frenzy rather increased than abated, he left her with her women, charging them never to leave her alone, but to take great care of her.  He sent often that day to inquire how she did; but received no other answer than that she was rather worse than better.  At night she seemed more indisposed than she had been all day, insomuch that the sultan deferred the happiness he had promised himself.

The princess of Bengal continued to talk wildly, and shew other marks of a disordered mind, next day and the following; so that the sultan was induced to send for all the physicians belonging to his court, to consult them upon her disease, and to ask if they could cure her.

The physicians all agreed that there were several sorts and degrees of this disorder, some curable and others not; and told the sultan, that they could not judge of the princess of Bengal’s unless they might see her; upon which the sultan ordered the eunuchs to introduce them into the princess’s chamber, one after another, according to their rank.

The princess, who foresaw what would happen, and feared, that if she let the physicians feel her pulse, the least experienced of them would soon know that she was in good health, and that her madness was only feigned, flew into such a well-dissembled rage and passion, that she appeared ready to injure those who came near her; so none of them durst approach her.

Some who pretended to be more skilful than the rest, and boasted of judging of diseases only by sight, ordered her some potions, which she made the less difficulty to take, well knowing she could be sick or well at pleasure, and that they could do her no harm.

When the sultan of Cashmeer saw that his court physicians could not cure her, he called in the most celebrated and experienced of the city, who had no better success.  Afterwards he sent for the most famous in the kingdom, who met with no better reception than the others from the princess, and what they prescribed had no effect.  Afterwards he dispatched expresses to the courts of neighbouring sultans, with the princess’s case, to be distributed among the most famous physicians, with a promise of a munificent reward to any of them who should come and effect her cure.

Various physicians arrived from all parts, and tried their skill; but none could boast of better success than their predecessors, or of restoring the princess’s faculties, since it was a case that did not depend on medicine, but on the will of the princess herself.

During this interval Firoze Shaw, disguised in the habit of a dervish, travelled through many provinces and towns, involved in grief; and endured excessive fatigue, not knowing which way to direct his course, or whether he might not be pursuing the very opposite road from what he ought, in order to hear the tidings he was in search of.  He made diligent inquiry after her at every place he came to; till at last passing through a city of Hindoostan, he heard the people talk much of a princess of Bengal, who ran mad on the day of the intended celebration of her nuptials with the sultan of Cashmeer.  At the name of the princess of Bengal, and supposing that there could exist no other princess of Bengal than her upon whose account he had undertaken his travels, he hastened towards the kingdom of Cashmeer, and upon his arrival at the capital took up his lodging at a khan, where the same day he was informed of the story of the princess, and the fate of the Hindoo magician, which he had so richly deserved.  From the circumstances, the prince was convinced that she was the beloved object he had sought so long.

Being informed of all these particulars, he provided himself against the next day with a physician’s habit, and having let his beard grow during his travels, he passed the more easily for the character he assumed, went to the palace, impatient to behold his beloved, where he presented himself to the chief of the officers, and observed modestly, that perhaps it might be looked upon as a rash undertaking to attempt the cure of the princess, after so many had failed; but that he hoped some specifics, from which he had experienced success, might effect the desired relief.  The chief of the officers told him he was welcome, that the sultan would receive him with pleasure, and that if he should have the good fortune to restore the princess to her former health, he might expect a considerable reward from his master’s liberality:  “Stay a moment,” added he, “I will come to you again immediately.”

Some time had elapsed since any physician had offered himself; and the sultan of Cashmeer with great grief had begun to lose all hope of ever seeing the princess restored to health, that he might marry, and shew how much he loved her.  He ordered the officer to introduce the physician he had announced.

The prince of Persia was presented, when the sultan, without wasting time in superfluous discourse, after having told him the princess of Bengal could not bear the sight of a physician without falling into most violent transports, which increased her malady, conducted him into a closet, from whence, through a lattice, he might see her without being observed.

There Firoze Shaw beheld his lovely princess sitting melancholy, with tears in her eyes, and singing an air in which she deplored her unhappy fate, which had deprived her, perhaps, for ever, of the object she loved so tenderly.

The prince was sensibly affected at the melancholy condition in which he found his dear princess, but he wanted no other signs to comprehend that her disorder was feigned, or that it was for love of him that she was under so grievous an affliction.  When he came out of the closet, he told the sultan that he had discovered the nature of the princess’s complaint, and that she was not incurable; but added withal, that he must speak with her in private, and alone, as, notwithstanding her violent agitation at the sight of physicians, he hoped she would hear and receive him favourably.

The sultan ordered the princess’s chamber door to be opened, and Firoze Shaw went in.  As soon as the princess saw him (taking him by his habit to be a physician), she rose up in a rage, threatening him, and giving him the most abusive language.  He made directly towards her, and when he was nigh enough for her to hear him, for he did not wish to be heard by any one else, said to her, in a low voice, “Princess, I am not a physician, but the prince of Persia, and am come to procure you your liberty.”

The princess, who knew the sound of the voice, and the upper features of his face, notwithstanding he had let his beard grow so long, grew calm at once, and a secret joy and pleasure overspread her face, the effect of seeing the person so much desired so unexpectedly.  Her agreeable surprise deprived her for some time of the use of speech, and gave Firoze Shaw time to tell her as briefly as possible, how despair had seized him when he saw the Hindoo carry her away; the resolution he afterwards had taken to leave every thing to find her out, and never to return home till he had regained her out of the hands of the perfidious wretch; and by what good fortune, at last, after a long and fatiguing journey, he had the satisfaction to find her in the palace of the sultan of Cashmeer.  He then desired the princess to inform him of all that happened to her, from the time she was taken away, till that moment when he had the happiness to converse with her, telling her, that it was of the greatest importance to know this, that he might take the most proper measures to deliver her from the tyranny of the sultan of Cashmeer.

The princess informed him how she was delivered from the Hindoo’s violence by the sultan, as he was returning from hunting; how she was alarmed the next day, by a declaration he had made of his precipitate design to marry her, without even the ceremony of asking her consent; that this violent and tyrannical conduct put her into a swoon; after which she thought she had no other way than what she had taken, to preserve herself for a prince to whom she had given her heart and faith; or die, rather than marry the sultan, whom she neither loved, nor could ever love.

The prince of Persia then asked her, if she knew what became of the horse, after the death of the Hindoo magician.  To which she answered, that she knew not what orders the sultan had given; but supposed, after the account she had given him of it, he would take care of it as a curiosity.

As Firoze Shaw never doubted but that the sultan had the horse, he communicated to the princess his design of making use of it to convey them both into Persia; and after they had consulted together on the measures they should take, they agreed that the princess should dress herself the next day, and receive the sultan civilly, but without speaking to him.

The sultan of Cashmeer was overjoyed when the prince of Persia stated to him what effect his first visit had had towards the cure of the princess.  On the following day, when the princess received him in such a manner as persuaded him her cure was far advanced, he regarded him as the greatest physician in the world; and seeing her in this state, contented himself with telling her how rejoiced he was at her being likely soon to recover her health.  He exhorted her to follow the directions of so skilful a physician, in order to complete what he had so well begun; and then retired without waiting for her answer.

The prince of Persia, who attended the sultan of Cashmeer out of the princess’s chamber, as he accompanied him, asked if, without failing in due respect, he might inquire, how the princess of Bengal came into the dominions of Cashmeer thus alone, since her own country was far distant?  This he said on purpose to introduce some conversation about the enchanted horse, and to know what was become of it.

The sultan, who could not penetrate into the prince’s motive, concealed nothing from him; but informed him of what the princess had related, when he had delivered her from the Hindoo magician:  adding, that he had ordered the enchanted horse to be kept safe in his treasury as a great curiosity, though he knew not the use of it.

“Sir,” replied the pretended physician, “the information which your majesty has given your devoted slave affords me a means of curing the princess.  As she was brought hither on this horse, and the horse is enchanted, she hath contracted something of the enchantment, which can be dissipated only by a certain incense which I am acquainted with.  If your majesty would entertain yourself, your court, and the people of your capital, with the most surprising sight that ever was beheld, let the horse be brought into the great square before the palace, and leave the rest to me.  I promise to show you, and all that assembly, in a few moments time, the princess of Bengal completely restored in body and mind.  But the better to effect what I propose, it will be requisite that the princess, should be dressed as magnificently as possible, and adorned with the most valuable jewels your majesty may possess.”  The sultan would have undertaken much more difficult things to have arrived at the enjoyment of his desires, which he expected soon to accomplish.

The next day, the enchanted horse was, by his order, taken out of the treasury, and placed early in the great square before the palace.  A report was spread through the town that there was something extraordinary to be seen, and crowds of people flocked thither from all parts, insomuch that the sultan’s guards were placed to prevent disorder, and to keep space enough round the horse.

The sultan of Cashmeer, surrounded by all his nobles and ministers of state, was placed on a scaffold erected on purpose.  The princess of Bengal, attended by a number of ladies whom the sultan had assigned her, went up to the enchanted horse, and the women helped her to mount.  When she was fixed in the saddle, and had the bridle in her hand, the pretended physician placed round the horse at a proper distance many vessels full of lighted charcoal, which he had ordered to be brought, and going round them with a solemn pace, cast in a strong and grateful perfume; then collected in himself, with downcast eyes, and his hands upon his breast, he ran three times about the horse, making as if he pronounced some mystical words.  The moment the pots sent forth a dark cloud of pleasant smell, which so surrounded the princess, that neither she nor the horse could be discerned, watching his opportunity, the prince jumped nimbly up behind her, and reaching his hand to the peg, turned it; and just as the horse rose with them into the air, he pronounced these words, which the sultan heard distinctly, “Sultan of Cashmeer, when you would marry princesses who implore your protection, learn first to obtain their consent.”

Thus the prince delivered the princess of Bengal, and carried her the same day to the capital of Persia, where he alighted in the square of the palace, before the emperor his father’s apartment, who deferred the solemnization of the marriage no longer than till he could make the preparations necessary to render the ceremony pompous and magnificent, and evince the interest he took in it.

After the days appointed for the rejoicings were over, the emperor of Persia’s first care was to name and appoint an ambassador to go to the Rajah of Bengal with an account of what had passed, and to demand his approbation and ratification of the alliance contracted by this marriage; which the Rajah of Bengal took as an honour, and granted with great pleasure and satisfaction.

The story of prince Ahmed, and the fairy
perie Banou.

There was a sultan who had peaceably filled the throne of India many years, and had the satisfaction in his old age to have three sons the worthy imitators of his virtues, who, with the princess his niece, were the ornaments of his court.  The eldest of the princes was called Houssain, the second Ali, the youngest Ahmed, and the princess his niece Nouronnihar.

The princess Nouronnihar was the daughter of the younger brother of the sultan, to whom in his lifetime he had allowed a considerable revenue.  But that prince had not been married long before he died, and left the princess very young.  The sultan, in consideration of the brotherly love and friendship that had always subsisted between them, besides a great attachment to his person, took upon himself the care of his daughter’s education, and brought her up in his palace with the three princes; where her singular beauty and personal accomplishments, joined to a lively wit and irreproachable virtue, distinguished her among all the princesses of her time.

The sultan, her uncle, proposed to marry her when she arrived at a proper age, and by that means to contract an alliance with some neighbouring prince; and was thinking seriously on the subject, when he perceived that the three princes his sons loved her passionately.  This gave him much concern, though his grief did not proceed from a consideration that their passion prevented his forming the alliance he designed, but the difficulty he foresaw to make them agree, and that the two youngest should consent to yield her up to their eldest brother.  He spoke to each of them apart; and remonstrated on the impossibility of one princess being the wife of three persons, and the troubles they would create if they persisted in their attachment.  He did all he could to persuade them to abide by a declaration of the princess in favour of one of them; or to desist from their pretensions, to think of other matches which he left them free liberty to choose, and suffer her to be married to a foreign attachment.  But as he found them obstinate, he sent for them all together, and said, “My children, since I have not been able to dissuade you from aspiring to marry the princess your cousin; and as I have no inclination to use my authority, to give her to one in preference to his brothers, I trust I have thought of an expedient which will please you all, and preserve harmony among you, if you will but hear me, and follow my advice.  I think it would not be amiss if you were to travel separately into different countries, so that you might not meet each other:  and as you know I am very curious, and delight in every thing that is rare and singular, I promise my niece in marriage to him who shall bring me the most extraordinary rarity; chance may lead you to form your own judgment of the singularity of the things which you bring, by the comparison you make of them, so that you will have no difficulty to do yourselves justice by yielding the preference to him who has deserved it; and for the expense of travelling, I will give each of you a sum suited to your rank, and for the purchase of the rarity you shall search after; which shall not be laid out in equipage and attendants, as much display, by discovering who you are, would not only deprive you of the liberty to acquit yourselves of your charge, but prevent your observing those things which may merit your attention, and may be most useful to you.”

As the three princes were always submissive and obedient to the sultan’s will, and each flattered himself fortune might prove favourable to him, and give him possession of the princess Nouronnihar, they all consented to the proposal.  The sultan gave them the money he promised; and that very day they issued orders for the preparations for their travels, and took leave of their father, that they might be ready to set out early next morning.  They all went out at the same gate of the city, each dressed like a merchant, attended by a trusty officer, habited as a slave, and all well mounted and equipped.  They proceeded the first day’s journey together; and slept at a caravanserai, where the road divided into three different tracks.  At night when they were at supper together, they all agreed to travel for a year, to make their present lodging their rendezvous; and that the first who came should wait for the rest; that as they had all three taken leave together of the sultan, they might return in company.  The next morning by break of day, after they had embraced and wished each other reciprocally good success, they mounted their horses, and took each a different road.

Prince Houssain, the eldest brother, who had heard wonders of the extent, power, riches, and splendour of the kingdom of Bisnagar, bent his course towards the Indian coast; and after three months’ travelling, joining himself to different caravans, sometimes over deserts and barren mountains, and sometimes through populous and fertile countries, arrived at Bisnagar, the capital of the kingdom of that name, and the residence of its maharajah.  He lodged at a khan appointed for foreign merchants; and having learnt that there were four principal divisions where merchants of all sorts kept their shops, in the midst of which stood the castle, or rather the maharajah’s palace, on a large extent of ground, as the centre of the city, surrounded by three courts, and each gate distant two leagues from the other, he went to one of these quarters the next day.

Prince Houssain could not view this quarter without admiration.  It was large, divided into several streets, all vaulted and shaded from the sun, but yet very light.  The shops were all of the same size and proportion; and all who dealt in the same sort of goods, as well as all the artists of the same profession, lived in one street.

The number of shops stocked with all kinds of merchandizes, such as the finest linens from several parts of India, some painted in the most lively colours, and representing men, landscapes, trees, and flowers; silks and brocades from Persia, China, and other places; porcelain from Japan and China; foot carpets of all sizes; surprised him so much, that he knew not how to believe his eyes:  but when he came to the shops of the goldsmiths and jewellers (for those two trades were exercised by the same merchants), he was in a kind of ecstasy, at beholding such prodigious quantities of wrought gold and silver, and was dazzled by the lustre of the pearls, diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and other precious stones exposed to sale.  But if he was amazed at seeing so many treasures in one place, he was much more surprised when he came to judge of the wealth of the whole kingdom, by considering, that except the brahmins, and ministers of the idols, who profess a life retired from worldly vanity, there was not an Indian, man or woman, through the extent of the kingdom, but wore necklaces, bracelets, and ornaments about their legs and feet, made of pearls, and precious stones, which appeared with the greater lustre, as they were blacks, which colour admirably set off their brilliancy.

Another object which prince Houssain particularly admired was the great number of flower-sellers who crowded the streets; for the Indians are such great lovers of flowers that not one will stir without a nosegay of them in his hand, or a garland of them on his head; and the merchants keep them in pots in their shops, so that the air of the whole quarter, however extensive, is perfectly perfumed.

After prince Houssain had passed through that quarter, street by street, his thoughts fully employed on the riches he had seen, he was much fatigued; which a merchant perceiving, civilly invited him to sit down in his shop.  He accepted his offer; but had not been seated long, before he saw a crier pass with a piece of carpeting on his arm, about six feet square, and crying it at thirty purses.  The prince called to the crier, and asked to see the carpeting, which seemed to him to be valued at an exorbitant price, not only for the size of it, but the meanness of the materials.  When he had examined it well, he told the crier that he could not comprehend how so small a piece of carpeting, and of so indifferent an appearance, could be set at so high a price.

The crier, who took him for a merchant, replied, “Sir, if this price seems so extravagant to you, your amazement will be greater when I tell you, I have orders to raise it to forty purses, and not to part with it under.”  “Certainly,” answered prince Houssain, “it must have something very extraordinary in it, which I know nothing of.”  “You have guessed right, sir,” replied the crier, “and will own it when you come to know, that whoever sits on this piece of carpeting may be transported in an instant wherever he desires to be, without being stopped by any obstacle.”

At this account, the prince of the Indies, considering that the principal motive of his tour was to carry the sultan his father home some singular rarity, thought that he could not meet with any which would afford him more satisfaction.  “If the carpeting,” said he to the crier, “has the virtue you attribute to it, I shall not think forty purses too much; but shall make you a present besides.”  “Sir,” replied the crier, “I have told you the truth; and it will be an easy matter to convince you of it, as soon as you have made the bargain for forty purses, on condition I shew you the experiment.  But as I suppose you have not so much with you, and to receive them, I must go with you to the khan where you lodge; with the leave of the master of this shop we will go into the back warehouse, where I will spread the carpeting; and when we have both sat down, and you have formed the wish to be transported into your apartment at the khan, if we are not conveyed thither, it shall be no bargain, and you shall be at your liberty.  As to your present, as I am paid for my trouble by the seller, I shall receive it as a favour, and feel much obliged by your liberality.”

On this assurance of the crier, the prince accepted the conditions, and concluded the bargain; then having obtained the master’s leave, they went into his back-shop, where they both sat down on the carpeting; and as soon as the prince had formed his wish to be transported into his apartment at the khan, he in an instant found himself and the crier there:  as he wanted not a more convincing proof of the virtue of the carpeting, he counted to the crier forty purses of gold, and gave him twenty pieces for himself.

In this manner prince Houssain became the possessor of the carpeting, and was overjoyed that at his arrival at Bisnagar he had found so rare a curiosity, which he never doubted must of course gain him the possession of Nouronnihar.  In short, he thought it impossible for the princes, his younger brothers, to meet with any thing to be compared with it.  It was in his power, by sitting on this carpeting, to be at the place of rendezvous that very day; but as he would be obliged to wait there for his brothers, as they had agreed, and as he was desirous of seeing the maharajah of Bisnagar and his court, and to inform himself of the strength, laws, customs, and religion of the kingdom, he chose to make a longer abode in this capital, and to spend some months in satisfying his curiosity.

It was the custom of the maharajah of Bisnagar to give all foreign merchants access to his person once a week; so that in his assumed character prince Houssain saw him often:  and as this prince was of an engaging presence, sensible and accomplished, he distinguished himself among the merchants, and was preferred before them all by the maharajah, who addressed himself to him to be informed of the person of the sultan of the Indies, and of the government, strength, and riches of his dominions.

The rest of his time the prince employed in viewing what was most remarkable in and about the city; and among the objects which were most worthy of admiration, he visited a temple remarkable for being built all of brass.  It was ten cubits square, and fifteen high; but its greatest ornament was an idol of the height of a man, of massive gold; its eyes were two rubies, set so artificially, that it seemed to look at those who viewed it, on which side soever they turned:  besides this, there was another not less curious, in the environs of the city, in the midst of a lawn of about ten acres, which was like a delicious garden full of roses and the choicest flowers, surrounded by a low wall, breast high, to keep out the cattle.  In the midst of this lawn was raised a terrace, a man’s height, and covered with such beautiful cement, that the whole pavement seemed to be but one single stone, most highly polished.  A temple was erected in the middle of this terrace, having a spire rising about fifty cubits high from the building, which might be seen for several leagues round.  The temple was thirty cubits long, and twenty broad; built of red marble, highly polished.  The inside of the spire was adorned with three compartments of fine paintings:  and there was not a part in the whole edifice but what was embellished with paintings, or relievos, and gaudy idols from top to bottom.

Every night and morning there were superstitious ceremonies performed in this temple, which were always succeeded by sports, concerts of music, dancing, singing, and feasts.  The brahmins of the temple, and the inhabitants of this suburb, had nothing to subsist on but the offerings of pilgrims, who came in crowds from the most distant parts of the kingdom to perform their vows.

Prince Houssain was also spectator of a solemn festival, which was celebrated every year at the court of Bisnagar, at which all the governors of provinces, commanders of fortified places, all heads and magistrates of towns, and the brahmins most celebrated for their learning, were usually present; and some lived so far off, that they were four months in coming.  This assembly, composed of such innumerable multitudes of Hindoos encamped in variously coloured tents, on a plain of vast extent, was a splendid sight, as far as the eye could reach.  In the centre of this plain was a square of great length and breadth, closed on one side by a large scaffolding of nine stories, supported by forty pillars, raised for the maharajah and his court, and those strangers whom he admitted to audience once a week:  within, it was adorned and furnished magnificently with rich carpets and cushions; and on the outside were painted landscapes, wherein all sorts of beasts, birds, and insects, even flies and gnats, were drawn very naturally.  Other scaffolds of at least four or five stories, and painted almost all with the same fanciful brilliancy, formed the other three sides.  But what was more particular in these scaffolds, they could turn, and make them change their fronts so as to present different decorations to the eye every hour.

On each side of the square, at some little distance from each other, were ranged a thousand elephants, sumptuously caparisoned, each having upon his back a square wooden stage, finely gilt, upon which were musicians and buffoons.  The trunks, ears, and bodies of these elephants were painted with cinnabar and other colours, representing grotesque figures.

But what prince Houssain most of all admired, as a proof of the industry, address, and inventive genius of the Hindoos, was to see the largest of these elephants stand with his four feet on a post fixed into the earth, and standing out of it above two feet, playing and beating time with his trunk to the music.  Besides this, he admired another elephant as large as the former, placed upon a plank, laid across a strong beam about ten feet high, with a sufficiently heavyweight at the other end, which balanced him, while he kept time, by the motions of his body and trunk, with the music, as well as the other elephant.  The Hindoos, after having fastened on the counterpoise, had drawn the other end of the board down to the ground, and made the elephant get upon it.

Prince Houssain might have made a longer stay in the kingdom and court of Bisnagar, where he would have been agreeably diverted by a great variety of other wonders, till the last day of the year, whereon he and his brothers had appointed to meet.  But he was so well satisfied with what he had seen, and his thoughts ran so much upon the object of his love, that after such success in meeting with his carpet, reflecting on the beauty and charms of the princess Nouronnihar increased every day the violence of his passion, and he fancied he should be the more easy and happy the nearer he was to her.  After he had satisfied the master of the khan for his apartment, and told him the hour when he might come for the key, without mentioning how he should travel, he shut the door, put the key on the outside, and spreading the carpet, he and the officer he had brought with him sat down upon it, and as soon as he had formed his wish, were transported to the caravanserai at which he and his brothers were to meet, and where he passed for a merchant till their arrival.

Prince Ali, the second brother, who had designed to travel into Persia, in conformity with the intention of the sultan of the Indies, took that road, having three days after he parted with his brothers joined a caravan; and in four months arrived at Sheerauz, which was then the capital of the empire of Persia; and having in the way contracted a friendship with some merchants, passed for a jeweller, and lodged in the same khan with them.

The next morning, while the merchants opened their bales of merchandises, prince Ali, who travelled only for his pleasure, and had brought nothing but necessaries with him, after he had dressed himself, took a walk into that quarter of the town where they sold precious stones, gold and silver works, brocades, silks, fine linens, and other choice and valuable articles, and which was at Sheerauz called the bezestein.  It was a spacious and well-built street, arched over, within the arcades of which were shops.  Prince Ali soon rambled through the bezestein, and with admiration judged of the riches of the place by the prodigious quantities of the most precious merchandises exposed to view.

But among the criers who passed backwards and forwards with several sorts of goods, offering to sell them, he was not a little surprised to see one who held in his hand an ivory tube, of about a foot in length, and about an inch thick, which he cried at forty purses.  At first he thought the crier mad, and to inform himself, went to a shop, and said to the merchant who stood at the door, “Pray, sir, is not that man” (pointing to the crier, who cried the ivory tube at forty purses) “mad?  If he is not, I am much deceived.”  “Indeed, sir,” answered the merchant, “he was in his right senses yesterday; and I can assure you he is one of the ablest criers we have, and the most employed of any, as being to be confided in when any thing valuable is to be sold; and if he cries the ivory tube at forty purses, it must be worth as much or more, on some account or other which does not appear.  He will come by presently, when we will call him, and you shall satisfy yourself:  in the mean time sit down on my sofa, and rest yourself.”

Prince Ali accepted the merchant’s obliging offer, and presently afterwards the crier arrived.  The merchant called him by his name, and pointing to the prince, said to him, “Tell that gentleman, who asked me if you were in your right senses, what you mean by crying that ivory tube, which seems not to be worth much, at forty purses?  I should indeed be much amazed myself, if I did not know you were a sensible man.”  The crier, addressing himself to prince Ali, said, “Sir, you are not the only person that takes me for a madman, on account of this tube; you shall judge yourself whether I am or no, when I have told you its property; and I hope you will value it at as high a price as those I have shewed it to already, who had as bad an opinion of me as you have.

“First, sir,” pursued the crier, presenting the ivory tube to the prince, “observe, that this tube is furnished with a glass at both ends; by looking through one of them, you will see whatever object you wish to behold.”  “I am,” said the prince, “ready to make you all proper reparation for the reflection I have cast upon you, if you can make the truth of what you advance appear; and” (as he had the ivory tube in his hand, after he had looked at the two glasses), he said, “shew me at which of these ends I must look, that I may be satisfied.”  The crier presently shewed him, and he looked through; wishing, at the same time, to see the sultan his father, whom he immediately beheld in perfect health, sitting on his throne, in the midst of his council.  Next, as there was nothing in the world so dear to him, after the sultan, as the princess Nouronnihar, he wished to see her; and instantly beheld her laughing, and in a gay humour, with her women about her.

Prince All wanted no other proof to persuade him that this tube was the most valuable article, not only in the city of Sheerauz, but in all the world; and believed, that if he should neglect to purchase it, he should never meet with an equally wonderful curiosity.  He said to the crier, “I am very sorry that I have entertained so erroneous an opinion of you, but hope to make amends by buying the tube, for I should be sorry if any body else had it; so tell me the lowest price the owner has fixed; and do not give yourself any farther trouble to hawk it about, but go with me and I will pay you the money.”  The crier assured him, with an oath, that his last orders were to take no less than forty purses; and if he disputed the truth of what he said, he would carry him to his employer.  The prince believed him, took him to the khan where he lodged, told him out the money, and received the tube.

Prince Ali was overjoyed at his purchase; and persuaded himself, that as his brothers would not be able to meet with any thing so rare and admirable, the princess Nouronnihar must be the recompense of his fatigue and travels.  He thought now of only visiting the court of Persia incognito, and seeing whatever was curious in and about Sheerauz, till the caravan with which he came might be ready to return to the Indies.  He satisfied his curiosity, and when the caravan took its departure, the prince joined the former party of merchants his friends, and arrived happily without any accident or trouble, further than the length of the journey and fatigue of travelling, at the place of rendezvous, where he found prince Houssain, and both waited for prince Ahmed.

Prince Ahmed took the road of Samarcand, and the day after his arrival, went, as his brothers had done, into the bezestein; where he had not walked long before he heard a crier, who had an artificial apple in his hand, cry it at five-and-thirty purses.  He stopped the crier, and said to him, “Let me see that apple, and tell me what virtue or extraordinary property it possesses, to be valued at so high a rate?” “Sir,” replied the crier, giving it into his hand, “if you look at the mere outside of this apple it is not very remarkable; but if you consider its properties, and the great use and benefit it is of to mankind, you will say it is invaluable, and that he who possesses it is master of a great treasure.  It cures all sick persons of the most mortal diseases, whether fever, pleurisy, plague, or other malignant distempers; for even if the patient is dying, it will recover him immediately, and restore him to perfect health:  and this merely by the patient’s smelling to it.”

“If one may believe you,” replied prince Ahmed, “the virtues of this apple are wonderful, and it is indeed invaluable:  but what ground has the purchaser to be persuaded that there is no exaggeration in the high praises you bestow on it?” “Sir,” replied the crier, “the truth is known by the whole city of Samarcand; but without going any farther, ask all these merchants you see here, and hear what they say; you will find several of them will tell you they had not been alive this day had they not made use of this excellent remedy; and that you may the better comprehend what it is, I must tell you it is the fruit of the study and experience of a celebrated philosopher of this city, who applied himself all his lifetime to the knowledge of the virtues of plants and minerals, and at last attained to this composition, by which he performed such surprising cures, as will never be forgotten; but died suddenly himself, before he could apply his own sovereign remedy; and left his wife and a great many young children behind in very indifferent circumstances, who, to support her family, and to provide for her children, has resolved to sell it.”

While the crier was detailing to prince Ahmed the virtues of the artificial apple, many persons came about them, and confirmed what he declared; and one amongst the rest said he had a friend dangerously ill, whose life was despaired of; which was a favourable opportunity to shew the experiment.  Upon which prince Ahmed told the crier he would give him forty purses for the apple if it cured the sick person by smelling to it.

The crier, who had orders to sell it at that price, said to prince Ahmed, “Come, sir, let us go and make the experiment, and the apple shall be yours; and I say this with the greater confidence, as it is an undoubted fact that it will always have the same effect, as it already has had whenever it has been applied to save from death so many persons whose lives were despaired of.”  In short, the experiment succeeded; and the prince, after he had counted out to the crier forty purses, and had received the apple from him, waited with the greatest impatience for the departure of a caravan for the Indies.  In the mean time he saw all that was curious at and about Samarcand, and principally the valley of Sogd, which is reckoned by the Arabians one of the four paradises of this world, for the beauty of its fields, gardens, and palaces, and for its fertility in fruit of all sorts, and all the other pleasures enjoyed there in the fine season.

Ahmed joined himself to the first caravan that set out for the Indies, and notwithstanding the inevitable inconveniences of so long a journey, arrived in perfect health at the caravanserai, where the princes Houssain and Ali waited for him.

Ali, who had arrived some time before Ahmed, asked Houssain how long he had been there? who told him, “Three months;” to which he replied, “Then certainly you have not been very far.”  “I will tell you nothing now,” said prince Houssain, “of where I have been, but only assure you, I was above three months travelling to the place I went to.”  “But then,” replied prince Ali, “you made a short stay there.”  “Indeed, brother,” said prince Houssain, “you are mistaken; I resided at one place above four months, and might have stayed longer.”  “Unless you flew back,” returned Ali again, “I cannot comprehend how you can have been three months here, as you would make me believe.”

“I tell you the truth,” added Houssain, “and it is a riddle which I shall not explain to you, till our brother Ahmed joins us; when I will let you know what rarity I have purchased in my travels.  I know not what you have got, but believe it to be some trifle, because I do not perceive that your baggage is increased.”  “And pray what have you brought?” demanded prince Ali, “for I can see nothing but an ordinary piece of carpeting, with which you cover your sofa; and therefore I think I may return your raillery; and as you seem to make what you have brought a secret, you cannot take it amiss that I do the same with respect to what I have procured.”

“I consider the rarity I have purchased,” replied Houssain, “to excel all others whatever, and should not make any difficulty to shew it you, and make you allow that it is so, and at the same time tell you how I came by it, without being in the least apprehensive that what you have got is to be preferred to it:  but it is proper that we should wait till our brother Ahmed arrives, when we may communicate our good fortune to each other.”

Prince All would not enter into a dispute with prince Houssain on the preference he gave his rarity, but was persuaded, that if his perspective glass was not preferable, it was impossible it should be inferior to it; and therefore agreed to stay till prince Ahmed arrived, to produce his purchase.

When prince Ahmed joined his brothers, they embraced with tenderness, and complimented each other on the happiness of meeting together at the same place they had set out from.  Houssain, as the eldest brother, then assumed the discourse, and said to them, “Brothers, we shall have time enough hereafter to entertain ourselves with the particulars of our travels.  Let us come to that which is of the greatest importance for us to know; and as I do not doubt you remember the principal motive which engaged us to travel, let us not conceal from each other the curiosities we have brought, but shew them, that we may do ourselves justice beforehand, and judge to which of us the sultan our father may give the preference.

“To set the example,” continued Houssain, “I will tell you, that the rarity which I have brought from the kingdom of Bisnagar is the carpeting on which I sit, which looks but ordinary, and makes no shew; but when I have declared its virtues, you will be struck with admiration, and confess you never heard of any thing like it.  Whoever sits on it, as we do, and desires to be transported to any place, be it ever so far distant, he is immediately carried thither.  I made the experiment myself, before I paid the forty purses, which I most readily gave for it; and when I had fully satisfied my curiosity at the court of Bisnagar, and wished to return here, I made use of no other conveyance than this wonderful carpet for myself and servant, who can tell you how long we were on our journey.  I will shew you both the experiment whenever you please.  I expect now that you should tell me whether what you have brought is to be compared with this carpet.”

Here prince Houssain finished his commendations of the excellency of his carpet; and prince Ali, addressing himself to him, said, “I must own, brother, that your carpet is one of the most surprising curiosities, if it has, as I do not doubt, the property you speak of.  But you must allow that there may be other rarities, I will not say more, but at least as wonderful, in another way; and to convince you there are, here is an ivory tube, which appears to the eye no more a prodigy than your carpet; it cost me as much, and I am as well satisfied with my purchase as you can be with yours; and you will be so just as to own that I have not been imposed upon, when you shall know by experience, that by looking at one end you see whatever object you wish to behold.  I would not have you take my word,” added prince Ali, presenting the tube to him; “take it, make trial of it yourself.”

Houssain took the ivory tube from prince Ali, and put that end to his eye which Ali directed, with an intention to see the princess Nouronnihar; when Ali and prince Ahmed, who kept their eyes fixed upon him, were extremely surprised to see his countenance change in such a manner, as expressed extraordinary alarm and affliction.  Prince Houssain did not give them time to ask what was the matter, but cried out, “Alas! princes, to what purpose have we undertaken such long and fatiguing journeys, but with the hopes of being recompensed by the possession of the charming Nouronnihar, when in a few moments that lovely princess will breathe her last.  I saw her in her bed, surrounded by her women and eunuchs, all in tears, who seem to expect her death.  Take the tube, behold yourselves the miserable state she is in, and mingle your tears with mine.”

Prince Ali took the tube out of Houssain’s hand, and after he had seen the same object with sensible grief, presented it to Ahmed, who took it, to behold the melancholy sight which so much concerned them all.

When prince Ahmed had taken the tube out of Ali’s hands, and saw that the princess Nouronnihar’s end was so near, he addressed himself to his two brothers, and said, “Princes, the princess Nouronnihar, equally the object of our vows, is indeed just at death’s door; but provided we make haste and lose no time, we may preserve her life.”  He then took the artificial apple out of his bosom, and shewing it to his brothers, resumed, “This apple cost me as much and more than either the carpet or tube.  The opportunity which now presents itself to shew you its wonderful property makes me not regret the forty purses I gave for it.  But not to keep you longer in suspense, it has this virtue; if a sick person smells to it, though in the last agonies, it will restore him to perfect health immediately.  I have made the experiment, and can show you its wonderful effect on the person of the princess Nouronnihar, if we hasten to assist her.”

“If that be all,” replied prince Houssain, “we cannot make more dispatch than by transporting ourselves instantly into her chamber by means of my carpet.  Come, lose no time, sit down, it is large enough to hold us all:  but first let us give orders to our servants to set out immediately, and join us at the palace.”

As soon as the order was given, the princes Ali and Ahmed sat down by Houssain, and as their interest was the same, they all framed the same wish, and were transported instantaneously into the princess Nouronnihar’s chamber.

The presence of the three princes, who were so little expected, alarmed the princess’s women and eunuchs, who could not comprehend by what enchantment three men should be among them; for they did not know them at first; and the eunuchs were ready to fall upon them, as people who had got into a part of the palace where they were not allowed to come; but they presently found their mistake.

Prince Ahmed no sooner saw himself in Nouronnihar’s chamber, and perceived the princess dying, but he rose off the carpet, as did also the other two princes, went to the bed-side, and put the apple to her nostrils.  The princess instantly opened her eyes, and turned her head from one side to another, looking at the persons who stood about her; she then rose up in the bed, and asked to be dressed, with the same freedom and recollection as if she had awaked out of a sound sleep.  Her women presently informed her, in a manner that shewed their joy, that she was obliged to the three princes her cousins, and particularly to prince Ahmed, for the sudden recovery of her health.  She immediately expressed her joy at seeing them, and thanked them all together, but afterwards prince Ahmed in particular.  As she desired to dress, the princes contented themselves with telling her how great a pleasure it was to them to have come soon enough to contribute each in any degree towards relieving her from the imminent danger she was in, and what ardent prayers they had offered for the continuance of her life; after which they retired.

While the princess was dressing, the princes went to throw themselves at the sultan their father’s feet; but when they came to him, they found he had been previously informed of their unexpected arrival by the chief of the princess’s eunuchs, and by what means the princess had been so suddenly cured.  The sultan received and embraced them with the greatest joy, both for their return, and the wonderful recovery of the princess his niece, whom he loved as if she had been his own daughter, and who had been given over by the physicians.  After the usual compliments, the princes presented each the rarity which he had brought:  prince Houssain his carpet, prince Ali his ivory tube, and prince Ahmed the artificial apple; and after each had commended his present, as he put it into the sultan’s hands, they begged of him to pronounce their fate, and declare to which of them he would give the princess Nouronnihar, according to his promise.

The sultan of the Indies having kindly heard all that the princes had to say in favour of their rarities, without interrupting them, and being well informed of what had happened in relation to the princess Nouronnihar’s cure, remained some time silent, considering what answer he should make.  At last he broke silence, and said to them in terms full of wisdom, “I would declare for one of you, my children, if I could do it with justice; but consider whether I can?  It is true, Ahmed, the princess my niece is obliged to your artificial apple for her cure:  but let me ask you, whether you could have been so serviceable to her if you had not known by Ali’s tube the danger she was in, and if Houssain’s carpet had not brought you to her so soon?  Your tube, Ali, informed you and your brothers that you were likely to lose the princess your cousin, and so far she is greatly obliged to you.  You must also grant, that the knowledge of her illness would have been of no service without the artificial apple and the carpet.  And as for you, Houssain, the princess would be very ungrateful if she did not show her sense of the value of your carpet, which was so necessary a means towards effecting her cure.  But consider, it would have been of little use, if you had not been acquainted with her illness by Ali’s tube, or if Ahmed had not applied his artificial apple.  Therefore, as neither the carpet, the ivory tube, nor the artificial apple has the least preference to the other articles, but as, on the contrary, their value has been perfectly equal, I cannot grant the princess to any one of you; and the only fruit you have reaped from your travels is the glory of having equally contributed to restore her to health.

“As this is the case,” added the sultan, “you see that I must have recourse to other means to determine me with certainty in the choice I ought to make; and as there is time enough between this and night, I will do it to-day.  Go and procure each of you a bow and arrow, repair to the plain where the horses are exercised; I will soon join you, and will give the princess Nouronnihar to him who shoots the farthest.

“I do not, however, forget to thank you all in general, and each in particular, for the present you have brought me.  I have many rarities in my collection already, but nothing that comes up to the miraculous properties of the carpet, the ivory tube, and the artificial apple, which shall have the first places among them, and shall be preserved carefully, not only for curiosity, but for service upon all proper occasions.”

The three princes had nothing to object to the decision of the sultan.  When they were dismissed his presence, they each provided themselves with a bow and arrow, which they delivered to one of their officers, and went to the plain appointed, followed by a great concourse of people.

The sultan did not make them wait long for him:  as soon as he arrived, prince Houssain, as the eldest, took his bow and arrow, and shot first.  Prince Ali shot next, and much beyond him; and prince Ahmed last of all; but it so happened, that nobody could see where his arrow fell; and notwithstanding all the search made by himself and all the spectators, it was not to be found.  Though it was believed that he had shot the farthest, and had therefore deserved the princess Nouronnihar, it was however necessary that his arrow should be found, to make the matter more evident and certain; but notwithstanding his remonstrances, the sultan determined in favour of prince Ali, and gave orders for preparations to be made for the solemnization of the nuptials, which were celebrated a few days after with great magnificence.

Prince Houssain would not honour the feast with his presence; his passion for the princess Nouronnihar was so sincere and ardent, that he could scarcely support with patience the mortification of seeing her in the arms of prince Ali:  who, he said, did not deserve her better nor love her more than himself.  In short, his grief was so violent and insupportable, that he left the court, and renounced all right of succession to the crown, to turn dervish, and put himself under the discipline of a famous chief, who had gained great reputation for his exemplary life; and had taken up his abode, and that of his disciples, whose number was great, in an agreeable solitude.

Prince Ahmed, urged by the same motive, did not assist at prince Ali and the princess Nouronnihar’s nuptials, any more than his brother Houssain, yet did not renounce the world as he had done.  But as he could not imagine what could have become of his arrow, he resolved to search for it, that he might not have any thing to reproach himself with.  With this intent he went to the place where the princes Houssain’s and Ali’s were gathered up, and proceeding straight forwards from thence looked carefully on both sides as he advanced.  He went so far, that at last he began to think his labour was in vain; yet he could not help proceeding till he came to some steep craggy rocks, which would have obliged him to return, had he been ever so desirous to continue his course.

As he approached these rocks, he perceived an arrow, which he took up, looked earnestly at it, and was in the greatest astonishment to find it was the same he had shot.  “Certainly,” said he to himself, “neither I, nor any man living, could shoot an arrow so far; and finding it laid flat, not sticking into the ground, he judged that it had rebounded from the rock.  There must be some mystery in this, said he to himself again, and it may be to my advantage.  Perhaps fortune, to make amends for depriving me of what I thought the greatest happiness of my life, may have reserved a greater blessing for my comfort.”

As these rocks were full of sharp points and indentures between them, the prince meditating, entered into one of the cavities, and looking about, beheld an iron door, which seemed to have no lock.  He feared it was fastened; but pushing against it, it opened, and discovered an easy descent, which he walked down with his arrow in his hand.  At first he thought he was going into a dark place, but presently a light quite different from that which he had quitted succeeded; and entering into a spacious square, he, to his surprise, beheld a magnificent palace, the admirable structure of which he had not time to look at:  for at the same instant, a lady of majestic air, and of a beauty to which the richness of her habit and the jewels which adorned her person added no advantage, advanced, attended by a troop of ladies, or whom it was difficult to distinguish which was the mistress, as all were so magnificently dressed.

As soon as Ahmed perceived the lady, he hastened to pay his respects; and the lady seeing him coming, prevented him.  Addressing him first, she said, “Come near, prince Ahmed, you are welcome.”

It was with no small surprise that the prince heard himself named in a palace he had never heard of, though so nigh to his father’s capital, and he could not comprehend how he should be known to a lady who was a stranger to him.  At last he returned the lady’s compliment, by throwing himself at her feet, and rising up, said to her, “Lady, I return you a thousand thanks for the assurance you give me of welcome to a place where I had reason to believe my imprudent curiosity had made me penetrate too far.  But may I, without being guilty of rudeness, presume to inquire by what adventure you know me? and how you who live in the same neighbourhood should be so little known by me?” “Prince,” said the lady, “let us go into the hall; there I will gratify you in your request more commodiously for us both.”

After these words, the lady led prince Ahmed into the hall, the noble structure of which, displaying the gold and azure which embellished the dome, and the inestimable richness of the furniture, appeared so great a novelty to him, that he could not forbear his admiration, but exclaimed, that he had never beheld its equal.  “I can assure you,” replied the lady, “that this is but a small part of my palace, as you will judge when you have seen all the apartments.”  She then sat down on a sofa; and when the prince at her entreaty had seated himself by her, she continued, “You are surprised, you say, that I know you, and am not known by you; but you will be no longer surprised when I inform you who I am.  You cannot be ignorant, as the Koran informs you, that the world is inhabited by genii as well as men:  I am the daughter of one of the most powerful and distinguished of these genii, and my name is Perie Banou; therefore you ought not to wonder that I know you, the sultan your father, the princes your brothers, and the princess Nouronnihar.  I am no stranger to your loves or your travels, of which I could tell you all the circumstances, since it was I myself who exposed to sale the artificial apple which you bought at Samarcand, the carpet which prince Houssain purchased at Bisnagar, and the tube which prince Ali brought from Sheerauz.  This is sufficient to let you know that I am not unacquainted with every thing that relates to you.  I have to add, that you seemed to me worthy of a more happy fate than that of possessing the princess Nouronnihar; and that you might attain to it, I was present when you drew your arrow, and foresaw it would not go beyond prince Houssain’s.  I seized it in the air, and gave it the necessary motion to strike against the rocks near which you found it.  It is in your power to avail yourself of the favourable opportunity which presents itself to make you happy.”

As the fairy Perie Banou pronounced the last words with a different tone, and looked at the same time tenderly at the prince, with downcast eyes and a modest blush upon her cheeks, it was not difficult for him to comprehend what happiness she meant.  He reflected that the princess Nouronnihar could never be his, saw that Perie Banou excelled her infinitely in beauty and accomplishments, and, as far as he could conjecture by the magnificence of the palace, in immense riches.  He blessed the moment that he thought of seeking after his arrow a second time, and yielding to his inclination, which drew him towards the new object which had fired his heart:  he then replied, “Should I, all my life, have the happiness of being your slave, and the admirer of the many charms which ravish my soul, I should think myself the happiest of men.  Pardon the presumption which inspires me to ask this favour, and do not refuse to admit into your court a prince who is entirely devoted to you.”

“Prince,” answered the fairy, “as I have been, long my own mistress, and have no dependence on a parent’s consent, it is not as a slave that I would admit you into my court, but as master of my person, and all that belongs to me, by pledging your faith to me, and taking me as your wife.  I hope you will not think it indecorous, that I anticipate you in this proposal.  I am, as I said, mistress of my will; and must add, that the same customs are not observed among fairies as with human-kind, in whom it would not have been decent to have made such advances:  but it is what we do, and we suppose we confer obligation by the practice.”

Ahmed made no answer to this declaration, but was so penetrated with gratitude, that he thought he could not express it better than by prostration to kiss the hem of her garment; which she would not give him time to do, but presented her hand, which he kissed a thousand times, and kept fast locked in his.  “Well, prince Ahmed,” said she, “will you pledge your faith to me, as I do mine to you?” “Yes, madam,” replied the prince, in an ecstacy of joy.  “What can I do more fortunate for myself, or with greater pleasure?  Yes, my sultaness, I give it you with my heart without the least reserve.”  “Then,” answered the fairy, “you are my husband, and I am your wife.  Our fairy marriages are contracted with no other ceremonies, and yet are more firm and indissoluble than those among men, with all their formalities.  But as I suppose,” pursued she, “that you have eaten nothing to-day, a slight repast shall be served up for you while preparations are making for our nuptial feast this evening, and then I will shew you the apartments of my palace.”

Some of the fairy’s women who came into the hall with them, and guessed her intentions, went immediately out, and returned with some excellent viands and wines.

When Ahmed had refreshed himself, the fairy led him through all the apartments, where he saw diamonds, rubies, emeralds, and all sorts of fine jewels, intermixed with pearls, agate, jasper, porphyry, and all kinds of the most precious marbles; not to mention the richness of the furniture, which was inestimable; the whole disposed in such elegant profusion, that the prince acknowledged there could not be any thing in the world equal to it.  “Prince,” said the fairy, “if you admire my humble abode so much, what would you say to the palaces of the chiefs of our genii, which are much more beautiful, spacious, and magnificent?  I could also shew you my garden; but we will leave that till another time.  Night draws near, and it will be time to go to supper.”

The next hall which the fairy led the prince into, where the cloth was laid for the feast, was the only apartment he had not seen, and it was not in the least inferior to the others.  At his entrance, he admired the infinite number of wax candles perfumed with amber, the multitude of which, instead of being confused, were placed with so just a symmetry, as to form an agreeable and pleasant light.  A large beaufet was set out with all sorts of gold plate, so finely wrought, that the workmanship was much more valuable than the weight of the gold.  Several bands of beautiful women richly dressed, and whose voices were ravishing, began a concert, accompanied by the most harmonious instruments he had ever heard.  When they were seated, the fairy took care to help prince Ahmed to the most delicious meats, which she named as she invited him to eat of them, and which the prince had never heard of, but found so exquisite, that he commended them in the highest terms, saying, that the entertainment which she gave him far surpassed those among men.  He found also the same excellence in the wines, which neither he nor the fairy tasted till the dessert was served up, which consisted of the choicest sweetmeats and fruits.

After the dessert, the fairy Perie Banou and prince Ahmed rose and repaired to a sofa, with cushions of fine silk, curiously embroidered with all sorts of large flowers, laid at their backs.  Presently after a great number of genii and fairies danced before them to the chamber where the nuptial bed was prepared; and when they came to the entrance, divided themselves into two rows, to let them pass, after which they made obeisance and retired.

The nuptial festivity was renewed the next day; or rather, every day following the celebration was a continued feast, which the fairy Perie Banou knew how to diversify, by new delicacies, new concerts, new dances, new shows, and new diversions; which were all so gratifying to his senses, that Ahmed, if he had lived a thousand years among men, could not have experienced equal enjoyment.

The fairy’s intention was not only to give the prince convincing proofs of the sincerity of her love, by so many attentions; but to let him see, that as he had no pretensions at his father’s court, he could meet with nothing comparable to the happiness he enjoyed with her, independently of her beauty and attractions, and to attach him entirely to herself.  In this attempt she succeeded so well, that Ahmed’s passion was not in the least diminished by possession; but increased so much, that if he had been so inclined, it was not in his power to forbear loving her.

At the end of six months, prince Ahmed, who always loved and honoured the sultan his father, felt a great desire to know how he was; and as that desire could not be satisfied without his absenting himself, he mentioned his wish to the fairy, and requested she would give him leave to visit the sultan.

This request alarmed the fairy, and made her fear it was only an excuse to leave her.  She said to him, “What disgust can I have given to you to ask me this permission?  Is it possible you should have forgotten that you have pledged your faith to me, or have you ceased to love one who is so passionately fond of you?  Are not the proofs I have repeatedly given you of my affection sufficient?”

“My queen,” replied the prince, “I am perfectly convinced of your love, and should be unworthy of it, if I did not testify my gratitude by a reciprocal affection.  If you are offended at the permission I solicit, I entreat you to forgive me, and I will make all the reparation in my power.  I did not make the request with any intention of displeasing you, but from a motive of respect towards my father, whom I wish to free from the affliction in which my so long absence must have overwhelmed him, and which must be the greater, as, I have reason to presume, he believes that I am dead.  But since you do not consent that I should go and afford him that comfort, I will deny myself the pleasure, as there is nothing to which I would not submit to please you.”

Ahmed did not dissemble, for he loved her at heart as much as he had assured her by this declaration; and the fairy expressed her satisfaction.  But as he could not absolutely abandon his design, he frequently took an opportunity to speak to her of the great qualifications of the sultan his father:  and above all, of his particular tenderness towards himself, in hopes he might at length be able to move her.

As the prince had supposed, the sultan of the Indies, in the midst of the rejoicings on account of the nuptials of prince Ali and the princess Nouronnihar, was sensibly afflicted at the absence of the other two princes his sons, though it was not long before he was informed of the resolution Houssain had taken to forsake the world, and the place he had chosen for his retreat.  As a good father, whose happiness consists in seeing his children about him, especially when they are deserving of his tenderness, he would have been better pleased had he stayed at his court, near his person; but as he could not disapprove of his choice of the state of perfection which he had entered, he supported his absence more patiently.  He made the most diligent search after Ahmed, and dispatched couriers to all the provinces of his dominions, with orders to the governors to stop him, and oblige him to return to court:  but all the pains he took had not the desired success, and his affliction, instead of diminishing, increased.  He would make it the subject of his conversation with his grand vizier; and would say to him, “Vizier, thou knowest I always loved Ahmed the most of all my sons; and thou art not insensible of the means I have in vain used to find him out.  My grief is so heavy, I shall sink under it, if thou hast not compassion on me; if thou hast any regard for the preservation of my life, I conjure thee to assist and advise me.”

The grand vizier, no less attached to the person of the sultan than zealous to acquit himself well of the administration of the affairs of state, considering how to give his sovereign some ease, recollected a sorceress, of whom he had heard wonders, and proposed to send for and consult her.  The sultan consented, and the grand vizier, upon her arrival, introduced her into the presence.

The sultan said to the sorceress, “The affliction I have been in since the marriage of my son prince Ali to the princess Nouronnihar, my niece, on account of the absence of prince Ahmed, is so well known, and so public, that thou canst be no stranger to it.  By thy art and skill canst thou tell me what is become of him?  If he be alive, where he is? what he is doing? and if I may hope ever to see him again?” To this the sorceress replied, “It is impossible, sir, for me, however skilful in my profession, to answer immediately the questions your majesty asks; but if you allow me till to-morrow, I will endeavour to satisfy you.”  The sultan granted her the time, and permitted her to retire, with a promise to recompense her munificently, if her answer proved agreeable to his hopes.

The sorceress returned the next day, and the grand vizier presented her a second time to the sultan.  “Sir,” said she, “notwithstanding all the diligence I have used in applying the rules of my art to obey your majesty in what you desire to know, I have not been able to discover any thing more than that prince Ahmed is alive.  This is certain, and you may depend upon it; but as to where he is I cannot discover.”

The sultan of the Indies was obliged to remain satisfied with this answer; which left him in the same uneasiness as before as to the prince’s situation.

To return to prince Ahmed.  He so often entertained the fairy Perie Banou with talking about his father, though without speaking any more of his desire to visit him, that she fully comprehended what he meant; and perceiving the restraint he put upon himself, and his fear of displeasing her after her first refusal, she inferred, from the repeated proofs he had given her, that his love for her was sincere; and judging by herself of the injustice she committed in opposing a son’s tenderness for his father, and endeavouring to make him renounce that natural affection, she resolved to grant him the permission which she knew he so ardently desired.  One day she said to him, “Prince, the request you made to be allowed to go and see the sultan your father gave me apprehension that it was only a pretext to conceal inconstancy, and that was the sole motive of my refusal; but now, as I am fully convinced by your actions and words that I can depend on your honour and the fidelity of your love, I change my resolution, and grant you the permission you seek, on condition that you will first swear to me that your absence shall not be long.  You ought not to be uneasy at this condition, as if I asked it out of distrust.  I impose it only because I know that it will give you no concern, convinced, as I have already told you I am, of the sincerity of your love.”

Prince Ahmed would have thrown himself at the fairy’s feet to shew his gratitude, but she prevented him.  “My sultaness,” said he, “I am sensible of the great favour you grant me; but want words to express my thanks.  Supply this defect, I conjure you, by your own feelings, and be persuaded I think much more.  You may believe that the oath will give me no uneasiness, and I take it more willingly, since it is not possible for me to live without you.  I go, but the haste I will make to return shall shew you, that it is not the fear of being foresworn, but my inclination, which is to live with you for ever, that urges me; and if with your consent I now and then deprive myself of your society, I shall always avoid the pain a too long absence would occasion me.”

“Prince,” replied Perie Banou, delighted with his sentiments, “go when you please; but do not take it amiss that I give you some advice how you shall conduct yourself.  First, I do not think it proper for you to inform your father of our marriage, neither of my quality, nor the place of our residence.  Beg of him to be satisfied with knowing that you are happy, that you want nothing from him, and let him know that the sole end of your visit is to make him easy respecting your fate.”

Perie Banou then appointed twenty horsemen, well mounted and equipped, to attend him.  When all was ready, prince Ahmed took his leave of the fairy, embraced her, and renewed his promise to return soon.  A charger, which was most richly caparisoned, and as beautiful a creature as any in the sultan of the Indies’ stables, was brought to him, which he mounted with extraordinary grace, which gave great pleasure to the fairy; and after he had bidden her adieu, he set forward on his journey.

As it was no great distance to his father’s capital, prince Ahmed soon arrived there.  The people, rejoiced to see him again, received him with acclamations, and followed him in crowds to the palace.  The sultan received and embraced him with great joy; complaining at the same time, with a fatherly tenderness, of the affliction his long absence had occasioned; which, he said, was the more distressing, as fortune having decided in favour of prince Ali his brother, he was afraid he might have committed some act of despair.

“Sir,” replied prince Ahmed, “I leave it to your majesty to consider, if after having lost the princess Nouronnihar, who was the only object of my desires, I could bear to be a witness of Ali’s happiness.  If I had been capable of such unworthy apathy, what would the court and city have thought of my love, or what your majesty?  Love is a passion we cannot suppress at our will; while it lasts, it rules and governs us in spite of our boasted reason.  Your majesty knows, that when I shot my arrow, the most extraordinary accident that ever befell mortal happened to me, for surely it was such, that in so large and level a plain as that where the horses are exercised, it should not be possible to find my arrow.  I lost your decision in my favour, which was as much due to my love, as to that of the princes my brothers.  Though thus vanquished by the caprice of fate, I lost no time in vain complaints; but to satisfy my perplexed mind, upon what I could not comprehend, I left my attendants, and returned alone to look for my arrow.  I sought all about the place where Houssain’s and Ali’s arrows were found, and where I imagined mine must have fallen, but all my labour was in vain.  I was not discouraged, but continued my search in a direct line, and after this manner had gone above a league, without being able to meet with any thing like an arrow, when I reflected that it was not possible that mine should have flown so far.  I stopped, and asked myself whether I was in my right senses, to flatter myself with having had strength to shoot an arrow so much farther than any of the strongest archers in the world were able to do.  After I had argued thus with myself, I was ready to abandon my enterprise; but when on the point of putting my resolution in execution, I found myself drawn forward against my will; and after having gone four leagues, to that part of the plain where it is bounded by rocks, I perceived an arrow.  I ran, took it up, and knew it to be the same which I had shot.  Far from thinking your majesty had done me any injustice in declaring for my brother Ali, I interpreted what had happened to me quite otherwise, and never doubted there was a mystery in it to my advantage; the discovery of which I ought not to neglect, and which I found out without going from the spot.  But as to this mystery I beg your majesty will not be offended if I remain silent, and that you will be satisfied to know from my own mouth that I am happy, and content with my fate.

“In the midst of my happiness, the only thing that troubled me, or was capable of disturbing me, was the uneasiness I feared your majesty would experience on account of my leaving the court, and your not knowing what was become of me.  I thought it my duty to satisfy you in this point.  This was the only motive which brought me hither; the only favour I ask of your majesty is to give me leave to come occasionally to pay you my duty, and inquire after your health.”

“Son,” answered the sultan of the Indies, “I cannot refuse you the permission you ask, but I should much rather you would resolve to stay with me.  At least tell me where I may hear of you, if you should fail to come, or when I may think your presence necessary.”  “Sir,” replied the prince, “what your majesty requires is part of the mystery I spoke of.  I beg of you to allow me to remain silent on this head; for I shall come so frequently where my duty calls, that I am afraid I shall sooner be thought troublesome than be accused of negligence, when my presence may be necessary.”

The sultan of the Indies pressed Ahmed no more, but said to him, “Son, I wish to penetrate no farther into your secrets, but leave you at your liberty.  I can only tell you, that you could not have done me greater pleasure than by your presence, having restored to me the joy I have not felt for a long time; and that you shall always be welcome when you can come, without interrupting your business or your pleasure.”

Prince Ahmed stayed but three days at his father’s court, and on the fourth returned to the fairy Perie Banou, who received him with the greater joy, as she did not expect him so soon.  His expedition made her condemn herself for suspecting his want of fidelity.  She never dissembled, but frankly owned her weakness to the prince, and asked his pardon.  So perfect was the union of the two lovers, that they had but one will.

A month after prince Ahmed’s return from visiting his father, as the fairy had observed that since the time when he gave her an account of his journey, and his conversation with his father, in which he asked his permission to come and see him from time to time, he had never spoken of the sultan, whereas before he was frequently mentioning him, she thought he forebore on her account, and therefore took an opportunity to say to him one day, “Tell me, prince, have you forgotten the sultan your father?  Do not you remember the promise you made to pay your duty to him occasionally?  I have not forgotten what you told me at your return, and put you in mind of it, that you may acquit yourself of your promise when you may feel inclined.”

“Madam,” replied Ahmed, with equal animation, “as I know I am not guilty of the forgetfulness you lay to my charge, I rather choose to be thus reproached, however undeservedly, than expose myself to a refusal, by manifesting a desire for what it might have given you pain to grant.”  “Prince,” said the fairy, “I would not have you in this affair have so much consideration for me, since it is a month since you have seen the sultan your father.  I think you should not be longer in renewing your visits.  Pay him one to-morrow, and after that, go and visit once a month, without speaking to me, or waiting for my permission.  I readily consent to such an arrangement.”

Prince Ahmed went the next morning with the same attendants as before, but much more magnificently mounted, equipped, and dressed, and was received by the sultan with the same joy and satisfaction.  For several months he constantly paid him visits, and always in a richer and more brilliant equipage.

At last the sultan’s favourites, who judged of prince Ahmed’s power by the splendour of his appearance, abused the privilege the sultan accorded them of speaking to him with freedom, to make him jealous of his son.  They represented that it was but common prudence to discover where the prince had retired, and how he could afford to live so magnificently, since he had no revenue assigned for his expenses; that he seemed to come to court only to insult him, by affecting to shew that he wanted nothing from his father to enable him to live like a prince; and that it was to be feared he might court the people’s favour and dethrone him.

The sultan of the Indies was so far from thinking that prince Ahmed could be capable of so wicked a design, that he said to them in displeasure, “You are mistaken, my son loves me, and I am the more assured of his tenderness and fidelity, as I have given him no reason to be disgusted.”

At these words, one of the favourites took an opportunity to say, “Your majesty, in the opinion of the most sensible people, could not have taken a better method than you did with the three princes, respecting their marriage with the princess Nouronnihar; but who knows whether prince Ahmed has submitted to his fate with the same resignation as prince Houssain?  May not he imagine that he alone deserved her; and that your majesty, by leaving the match to be decided by chance, has done him injustice?

“Your majesty may say,” added the malicious favourite, “that prince Ahmed has manifested no appearance of dissatisfaction; that our fears are vain; that we are too easily alarmed, and are to blame in suggesting to you suspicions of this kind, which may, perhaps, be unfounded, against a prince of your blood.  But, sir,” pursued the favourite, “it may be also, that these suspicions are well grounded.  Your majesty must be sensible, that in so nice and important an affair you cannot be too much on your guard, and should take the safest course.  Consider, it is the prince’s interest to dissemble, amuse, and deceive you; and the danger is the greater, as he resides not far from your capital; and if your majesty give but the same attention that we do, you may observe that every time he comes his attendants are different, their habits new, and their arms clean and bright, as if just come from the maker’s hands; and their horses look as if they had only been walked out.  These are sufficient proofs that prince Ahmed does not travel far, so that we should think ourselves wanting in our duty did we not make our humble remonstrances, in order that, for your own preservation and the good of your people, your majesty may take such measures as you shall think advisable.”

When the favourite had concluded these insinuations, the sultan said, “I do not believe my son Ahmed is so wicked as you would persuade me he is; however, I am obliged to you for your advice, and do not doubt that it proceeds from good intention and loyalty to my person.”

The sultan of the Indies said this, that his favourites might not know the impressions their observations had made on his mind.  He was, however, so much alarmed by them, that he resolved to have prince Ahmed watched, unknown to his grand vizier.  For this end he sent for the sorceress, who was introduced by a private door into his closet.  “You told me the truth,” said he, “when you assured me my son Ahmed was alive, for which I am obliged to you.  You must do me another kindness.  I have seen him since, and he comes to my court every month; but I cannot learn from him where he resides, and do not wish to force his secret from him; but believe you are capable of satisfying my curiosity, without letting him, or any of my court, know any thing of the discovery.  You know that he is at this time with me, and usually departs without taking leave of me, or any of my court.  Place yourself immediately upon the road, and watch him so as to find out where he retires, and bring me information.”

The sorceress left the sultan, and knowing the place where prince Ahmed had found his arrow, went immediately thither, and concealed herself near the rocks, so as not to be seen.

The next morning prince Ahmed set out by daybreak, without taking leave either of the sultan or any of his court, according to custom.  The sorceress seeing him coming, followed him with her eyes, till suddenly she lost sight of him and his attendants.

The steepness of the rocks formed an insurmountable barrier to men, whether on horseback or on foot, so that the sorceress judged that the prince retired either into some cavern, or some subterraneous place, the abode of genies or fairies.  When she thought the prince and his attendants must have far advanced into whatever concealment they inhabited, she came out of the place where she had hidden herself, and explored the hollow way where she had lost sight of them.  She entered it, and proceeding to the spot where it terminated after many windings, looked carefully on all sides.  But notwithstanding all her acuteness she could perceive no opening, nor the iron gate which prince Ahmed had discovered.  For this door was to be seen by or opened to none but men, and only to those whose presence was agreeable to the fairy Perie Banou, but not at all to women.

The sorceress, who saw it was in vain for her to search any farther, was obliged to be satisfied with the insufficient discovery she had made, and returned to communicate it to the sultan.  When she had told him what she had explored, she added, “Your majesty may easily understand, after what I have had the honour to tell you, that it will be no difficult matter to obtain you the satisfaction you desire concerning prince Ahmed’s conduct.  To do this, I only ask time, that you will have patience, and give me leave to act, without inquiring what measures I design to take.”

The sultan was pleased with the conduct of the sorceress, and said to her, “Do you as you think fit; I will wait patiently the event of your promises:”  and to encourage her, he presented her with a diamond of great value, telling her, it was only an earnest of the ample recompense she should receive when she should have performed the important service which he left to her management.

As prince Ahmed, after he had obtained the fairy Perie Banou’s leave, never failed once a month to visit his father, the sorceress knowing the time, went a day or two before to the foot of the rock where she had lost sight of him and his attendants, and waited there to execute the project she had formed.

The next morning prince Ahmed went out as usual at the iron gate, with the same attendants as before, passed the sorceress, and seeing her lie with her head on the rock, complaining as if she was in great pain, he pitied her, turned his horse, and asked what he could do to relieve her?

The artful sorceress, without lifting up her head, looked at the prince in such a manner as to increase his compassion, and answered in broken accents and sighs, as if she could hardly breathe, that she was going to the city; but in the way was taken with so violent a fever, that her strength failed her, and she was forced to stop and lie down where he saw her, far from any habitation, and without any hopes of assistance.

“Good woman,” replied the prince, “you are not so far from help as you imagine.  I will assist you, and convey you where you shall not only have all possible care taken of you, but where you will find a speedy cure:  rise, and let one of my people take you behind him.”

At these words, the sorceress, who pretended sickness only to explore where the prince resided, and his situation, did not refuse the charitable offer, and to shew her acceptance rather by her actions than her words, made many affected efforts to rise, pretending that the violence of her illness prevented her.  At the same time, two of the prince’s attendants alighting, helped her up, and placed her behind another.  They mounted their horses again, and followed the prince, who turned back to the iron gate, which was opened by one of his retinue.  When he came into the outward court of the fairy’s palace, without dismounting himself, he sent to tell her he wanted to speak with her.

The fairy came with all imaginable haste, not knowing what had made prince Ahmed return so soon; who, not giving her time to ask, said, “My princess, I desire you would have compassion on this good woman,” pointing to the sorceress, who was taken off the horse by two of his retinue; “I found her in the condition you see her, and promised her the assistance she requires.  I recommend her to your care, and am persuaded that you, from inclination, as well as my request, will not abandon her.”

The fairy, who had her eyes fixed on the pretended sick woman all the time the prince was speaking, ordered two of her women to take her from the men who supported her, conduct her into an apartment of the palace, and take as much care of her as they would of herself.

Whilst the two women were executing the fairy’s commands, she went up to prince Ahmed, and whispering him in the ear, said, “Prince, I commend your compassion, which is worthy of you and your birth.  I take great pleasure in gratifying your good intention; but permit me to tell you I am afraid it will be but ill rewarded.  This woman is not so sick as she pretends to be; and I am much mistaken if she is not sent hither on purpose to occasion you great trouble.  But do not be concerned, let what will be devised against you; be persuaded that I will deliver you out of all the snares that shall be laid for you.  Go and pursue your journey.”

This address of the fairy’s did not in the least alarm prince Ahmed.  “My princess,” said he, “as I do not remember I ever did, or designed to do, any body injury, I cannot believe any one can have a thought of injuring me; but if they have, I shall not forbear doing good whenever I have an opportunity.”  So saying, he took leave of the fairy, and set forward again for his father’s capital, where he soon arrived, and was received as usual by the sultan, who constrained himself as much as possible, to disguise the anxiety arising from the suspicions suggested by his favourites.

In the mean time, the two women to whom Perie Banou had given her orders conveyed the sorceress into an elegant apartment, richly furnished.  They first set her down upon a sofa, with her back supported by a cushion of gold brocade, while they made a bed on the same sofa, the quilt of which was finely embroidered with silk, the sheets of the finest linen, and the coverlid cloth of gold.  When they had put her into bed (for the old sorceress pretended that her fever was so violent she could not help herself in the least), one of the women went out, and returned soon with a china cup in her hand, full of a certain liquor, which she presented to the sorceress, while the other helped her to sit up.  “Drink this,” said the attendant, “it is the water of the fountain of lions, and a sovereign remedy against fevers.  You will find the effect of it in less than an hour’s time.”

The sorceress, the better to dissemble, took it, after a great deal of entreaty, as if she did it with reluctance.  When she was laid down again, the two women covered her up:  “Lie quiet,” said she, who brought her the china cup, “and get a little sleep, if you can:  we will leave you, and hope to find you perfectly recovered when we return an hour hence.”

The sorceress, who came not to act a sick part long, but to discover prince Ahmed’s retreat, being fully satisfied in what she wanted to know, would willingly have declared that the potion had then had its effect, so great was her desire to return to the sultan, to inform him of the success of her commission:  but as she had been told that the potion did not operate immediately, she was forced to wait the women’s return.

The two women came again at the time they had mentioned, and found the sorceress seated on the sofa; who, when she saw them open the door of the apartment, cried out, “O the admirable potion! it has wrought its cure much sooner than you told me it would, and I have waited with impatience to desire you to conduct me to your charitable mistress, to thank her for her kindness, for which I shall always feel obliged; but being thus cured as by a miracle, I would not lose time, but prosecute my journey.”

The two women, who were fairies as well as their mistress, after they had told the sorceress how glad they were that she was cured so soon, walked before her, and conducted her through several apartments, all more superb than that wherein she had lain, into a large hall, the most richly and magnificently furnished of all the palace.

Perie Banou was seated in this hall, upon a throne of massive gold, enriched with diamonds, rubies, and pearls of an extraordinary size, and attended on each hand by a great number of beautiful fairies, all richly dressed.  At the sight of so much splendour, the sorceress was not only dazzled, but so struck, that after she had prostrated herself before the throne, she could not open her lips to thank the fairy, as she had proposed.  However, Perie Banou saved her the trouble, and said, “Good woman, I am glad I had an opportunity to oblige you, and that you are able to pursue your journey.  I will not detain you; but perhaps you may not be displeased to see my palace:  follow my women, and they will shew it you.”

The old sorceress, who had not power nor courage to say a word, prostrated herself a second time, with her head on the carpet that covered the foot of the throne, took her leave, and was conducted by the two fairies through the same apartments which were shewn to prince Ahmed at his first arrival, and at sight of their uncommon magnificence she made frequent exclamations.  But what surprised her most of all was, that the two fairies told her, that all she saw and so much admired was a mere sketch of their mistress’s grandeur and riches; for that in the extent of her dominions she had so many palaces that they could not tell the number of them, all of different plans and architecture, but equally magnificent.  In speaking of many other particulars, they led her at last to the iron gate at which prince Ahmed had brought her in; and after she had taken her leave of them, and thanked them for their trouble, they opened it, and wished her a good journey.

After the sorceress had gone a little way, she turned to observe the door, that she might know it again, but all in vain; for, as was before observed, it was invisible to her and all other women.  Except in this circumstance, she was very well satisfied with her success, and posted away to the sultan.  When she came to the capital, she went by many by-ways to the private door of the palace.  The sultan being informed of her arrival, sent for her into his apartment, and perceiving a melancholy hang upon her countenance, thought she had not succeeded, and said to her, “By your looks, I guess that your journey has been to no purpose, and that you have not made the discovery I expected from your diligence.”  “Sir,” replied the sorceress, “your majesty must give me leave to represent that you ought not to judge by my looks whether or no I have acquitted myself well in the execution of the commands you were pleased to honour me with; but by the faithful report I shall make you of all that has happened to me, and by which you will find that I have not neglected any thing that could render me worthy of your approbation.  The melancholy you observe proceeds from another cause than the want of success, which I hope your majesty will have ample reason to be satisfied with.  I do not tell you the cause; the relation I shall give will inform you.”

The sorceress now related to the sultan of the Indies how, pretending to be sick, prince Ahmed compassionating her, had her carried into a subterraneous abode, and presented and recommended her to a fairy of incomparable beauty, desiring her by her care to restore her health.  She then told him with how much condescension the fairy had immediately ordered two women to take care of her, and not to leave her till she was recovered; which great condescension, said she, could proceed from no other female, but from a wife to a husband.  Afterwards the old sorceress failed not to dwell on her surprise at the front of the palace, which she said had not its equal for magnificence in the world.  She gave a particular account of the care they took of her, after they had led her into an apartment; of the potion they made her drink, and of the quickness of her cure; which she had pretended as well as her sickness, though she doubted not the virtue of the draught; the majesty of the fairy seated on a throne, brilliant with jewels, the value of which exceeded all the riches of the kingdom of the Indies, and all the other treasures beyond computation contained in that vast palace.

Here the sorceress finishing the relation of the success of her commission, and continuing her discourse, said, “What does your majesty think of these unheard-of riches of the fairy?  Perhaps you will say, you are struck with admiration, and rejoice at the good fortune of prince Ahmed your son, who enjoys them in common with the fairy.  For my part, sir, I beg of your majesty to forgive me if I take the liberty to say that I think otherwise, and that I shudder when I consider the misfortunes which may happen to you from his present situation.  And this is the cause of the melancholy which I could not so well dissemble, but that you soon perceived it.  I would believe that prince Ahmed, by his own good disposition, is incapable of undertaking anything against your majesty; but who can answer that the fairy, by her attractions and caresses, and the influence she has over him, may not inspire him with the unnatural design of dethroning your majesty, and seizing the crown of the Indies?  This is what your majesty ought to consider as of the utmost importance.”

Though the sultan of the Indies was persuaded that prince Ahmed’s natural disposition was good, yet he could not help being moved at the representations of the old sorceress, and said, “I thank you for the pains you have taken, and your wholesome caution.  I am so sensible of its great importance that I shall take advice upon it.”

He was consulting with his favourites, when he was told of the sorceress’s arrival.  He ordered her to follow him to them.  He acquainted them with what he had learnt, communicated to them the reason he had to fear the fairy’s influence over the prince, and asked them what measures they thought most proper to be taken to prevent so great a misfortune as might possibly happen.  One of the favourites, taking upon himself to speak for the rest, said, “Your majesty knows who must be the author of this mischief.  In order to prevent it, now he is in your court, and in your power, you ought not to hesitate to put him under arrest; I will not say take away his life, for that would make too much noise; but make him a close prisoner.”  This advice all the other favourites unanimously applauded.

The sorceress, who thought it too violent, asked the sultan leave to speak, which being granted, she said, “I am persuaded it is the zeal of your counsellors for your majesty’s interest that makes them propose arresting prince Ahmed.  But they will not take it amiss if I offer to your and their consideration, that if you arrest the prince you must also detain his retinue.  But they are all genies.  Do they think it will be so easy to surprise, seize, and secure their persons? will they not disappear, by the property they possess of rendering themselves invisible, and transport themselves instantly to the fairy, and give her an account of the insult offered her husband?  And can it be supposed she will let it go unrevenged?  Would it not be better, if by any other means which might not make so great a noise, the sultan could secure himself against any ill designs prince Ahmed may have, and not involve his majesty’s honour?  If his majesty has any confidence in my advice, as genies and fairies can do things impracticable to men, he will rather trust prince Ahmed’s honour, and engage him by means of the fairy to procure certain advantages, by flattering his ambition, and at the same time narrowly watching him.  For example; every time your majesty takes the field, you are obliged to be at a great expense, not only in pavilions and tents for yourself and army, but likewise in mules and camels, and other beasts of burden, to carry their baggage.  Request the prince to procure you a tent, which can be carried in a man’s hand, but so large as to shelter your whole army.

“I need say no more to your majesty.  If the prince brings such a tent, you may make other demands of the same nature, so that at last he may sink under the difficulties and the impossibility of executing them, however fertile in means and inventions the fairy, who has enticed him from you by her enchantments, may be; so that in time he will be ashamed to appear, and will be forced to pass the rest of his life with the fairy, excluded from any commerce with this world; when your majesty will have nothing to fear from him, and cannot be reproached with so detestable an action as the shedding of a son’s blood, or confining him for life in a prison.”

When the sorceress had finished her speech, the sultan asked his favourites if they had any thing better to propose; and finding them all silent, determined to follow her advice, as the most reasonable and most agreeable to his mild manner of government.

The next day when the prince came into his father’s presence, who was talking with his favourites, and had sat down by him, after a conversation on different subjects, the sultan, addressing himself to prince Ahmed, said, “Son, when you came and dispelled those clouds of melancholy which your long absence had brought upon me, you made the place you had chosen for your retreat a mastery.  I was satisfied with seeing you again, and knowing that you were content with your condition, sought not to penetrate into your secret, which I found you did not wish I should.  I know not what reason you had thus to treat a father, who ever was and still continues anxious for your happiness.  I now know your good fortune.  I rejoice with you, and much approve of your conduct in marrying a fairy so worthy of your love, and so rich and powerful as I am informed she is.  Powerful as I am, it was not possible for me to have procured for you so great a match.  Now you are raised to so high a rank, as to be envied by all but a father, I not only desire to preserve the good understanding which has hitherto subsisted between us, but request that you will use your influence with your wife, to obtain her assistance when I may want it.  I will therefore make a trial of your interest this day.

“You are not insensible at what a great expense, not to say trouble to my generals, officers, and myself, every time I take the field, they provide tents, mules, camels, and other beasts of burden, to carry them.  If you consider the pleasure you would do me, I am persuaded you could easily procure from the fairy a pavilion that might be carried in a man’s hand, and which would extend over my whole army; especially when you let her know it is for me.  Though it may be a difficult thing to procure, she will not refuse you.  All the world knows fairies are capable of executing most extraordinary undertakings.”

Prince Ahmed never expected that the sultan his father would have made a demand like this, which appeared to him so difficult, not to say impossible.  Though he knew not absolutely how great the power of genii and fairies was, he doubted whether it extended so far as to furnish such a tent as his father desired.  Moreover, he had never asked any thing of the fairy Perie Banou, but was satisfied with the continual proofs she had given him of her passion, and had neglected nothing to persuade her that his heart perfectly corresponded without any views beyond maintaining himself in her good graces:  he was therefore in the greatest embarrassment what answer to make.  At last he replied, “If, sir, I have concealed from your majesty what has happened to me, and what course I took after finding my arrow, the reason was, that I thought it of no great importance to you to be informed of such circumstances; and though I know not how this mystery has been revealed to you, I cannot deny but your information is correct.  I have married the fairy you speak of.  I love her, and am persuaded she loves me in return.  But I can say nothing as to the influence your majesty believes I have over her.  It is what I have not yet proved, nor thought of trying, but could wish you would dispense with my making the experiment, and let me enjoy the happiness of loving and being beloved, with all that disinterestedness I had proposed to myself.  However, the demand of a father is a command upon every child, who, like me, thinks it his duty to obey him in every thing.  And though it is with the greatest reluctance, I will not fail to ask my wife the favour your majesty desires, but cannot promise you to obtain it; and if I should not have the honour to come again to pay you my respects, it will be the sign that I have not been able to succeed in my request:  but beforehand, I desire you to forgive me, and consider that you yourself have reduced me to this extremity.”

“Son,” replied the sultan of the Indies, “I should be sorry that what I ask should oblige you to deprive me of the gratification of seeing you as usual.  I find you do not know the power a husband has over a wife; and yours would shew that her love to you was very slight, if, with the power she possesses as a fairy, she should refuse so trifling a request as that I have begged you to make.  Lay aside your fears, which proceed from your believing yourself not to be loved so well as you love her.  Go; only ask her.  You will find the fairy loves you better than you imagine; and remember that people, for want of requesting, often lose great advantages.  Think with yourself, that as you love her, you could refuse her nothing; therefore, if she loves you, she will not deny your requests.”

All these representations of the sultan of the Indies could not satisfy prince Ahmed, who would rather he had asked anything else than, as he supposed, what must expose him to the hazard of displeasing his beloved Perie Banou; and so great was his vexation that he left the court two days sooner than he used to do.

When he returned, the fairy, to whom he always before had appeared with a gay countenance, asked him the cause of the alteration she perceived in his looks; and finding that instead of answering he inquired after her health, to avoid satisfying her, she said to him, “I will answer your question when you have answered mine.”  The prince declined a long time, protesting that nothing was the matter with him; but the more he denied the more she pressed him, and said, “I cannot bear to see you thus:  tell me what makes you uneasy, that I may remove the cause, whatever it may be; for it must be very extraordinary if it is out of my power, unless it be the death of the sultan your father; in that case, time, with all that I will contribute on my part, can alone comfort you.”

Prince Ahmed could not long withstand the pressing instances of the fairy.  “Madam,” said he, “God prolong the sultan my father’s life, and bless him to the end of his days.  I left him alive and in perfect health; therefore that is not the cause of the melancholy you perceive in me.  The sultan, however, is the occasion of it, and I am the more concerned because he has imposed upon me the disagreeable necessity of importuning you.  You know the care I have at your desire taken to conceal from him the happiness I have enjoyed in living with you, and of having received the pledge of your faith after having pledged my love to you.  How he has been informed of it I cannot tell.”

Here the fairy interrupted prince Ahmed, and said, “But I know.  Remember what I told you of the woman who made you believe she was sick, on whom you took so much compassion.  It is she who has acquainted your father with what you have taken so much care to hide from him.  I told you that she was no more sick than you or I, and she has made it appear so; for, in short, after the two women, whom I charged to take care of her, had given her the water sovereign against all fevers, but which however she had no occasion for, she pretended that it had cured her, and was brought to take her leave of me that she might go the sooner to give an account of the success of her undertaking.  She was in so much haste, that she would have gone away without seeing my palace if I had not, by bidding my two women shew it her, given her to understand that it was worth her seeing.  But proceed and tell me what is the necessity your father has imposed on you to be so importunate, which, be persuaded, however, you can never be to your affectionate wife.”

“Madam,” pursued prince Ahmed, “you may have observed that hitherto I have been content with your love, and have never asked you any other favour:  for what, after the possession of so amiable a wife, can I desire more?  I know how great your power is, but I have taken care not to make proof of it to please myself.  Consider then, I conjure you, that it is not myself, but the sultan my father, who, indiscreetly as I think, asks of you a pavilion large enough to shelter him, his court, and army, from the violence of the weather, when he takes the field, and which a man may carry in his hand.  Once more remember it is not I, but the sultan my father who asks this favour.”

“Prince,” replied the fairy smiling, “I am sorry that so trifling a matter should disturb and make you so uneasy as you appear.  I see plainly two things have contributed towards it:  one is, the law you have imposed on yourself, to be content with loving me, being beloved by me, and deny yourself the liberty of soliciting the least favour that might try my power.  The other, I do not doubt, whatever you may say, was, that you thought that what your father asked was out of my power.  As to the first, I commend you, and shall love you the better, if possible, for it; and for the second, I must tell you that what the sultan your father requests is a trifle; as upon occasion I can do him more important service.  Therefore be easy in your mind, and persuaded that far from thinking myself importuned I shall always take real pleasure in performing whatever you can desire.”  Perie Banou then sent for her treasurer, to whom, when she came, she said, “Noor-Jehaun” (which was her name), “bring me the largest pavilion in my treasury.”  Noor-Jehaun returned presently with a pavilion, which could not only be held, but concealed in the palm of the hand, when it was closed, and presented it to her mistress, who gave it prince Ahmed to look at.

When prince Ahmed saw the pavilion, which the fairy called the largest in her treasury, he fancied she had a mind to banter him, and his surprise soon appeared in his countenance; which Perie Banou perceiving, she burst out a laughing.  “What! prince,” cried she, “do you think I jest with you?  You will see that I am in earnest.  Noor-Jehaun,” said she to her treasurer, taking the tent out of prince Ahmed’s hands, “go and set it up, that he may judge whether the sultan his father will think it large enough.”

The treasurer went out immediately with it from the palace, and carried it to such a distance, that when she had set it up, one end reached to the palace.  The prince, so far from thinking it small, found it large enough to shelter two armies as numerous as that of the sultan his father; and then said to Perie Banou, “I ask my princess a thousand pardons for my incredulity:  after what I have seen, I believe there is nothing impossible to you.”  “You see,” said the fairy, “that the pavilion is larger than your father may have occasion for; but you are to observe that it has one property, that it becomes larger or smaller, according to the extent of the army it is to cover, without applying any hands to it.”

The treasurer took down the tent again, reduced it to its first size, brought it and put it into the prince’s hands.  He took it, and without staying longer than till the next day, mounted his horse, and went with the usual attendants to the sultan his father.

The sultan, who was persuaded that such a tent as he had asked for was beyond all possibility, was in great surprise at the prince’s speedy return.  He took the tent, but after he had admired its smallness, his amazement was so great that he could not recover himself when he had set it up in the great plain before-mentioned, and found it large enough to shelter an army twice as large as he could bring into the field.  Regarding this excess in its dimension as what might be troublesome in the use, prince Ahmed told him that its size would always be proportionable to his army.

To outward appearance the sultan expressed great obligation to the prince for so noble a present, desiring him to return his thanks to the fairy; and to shew what a value he set upon it, ordered it to be carefully laid up in his treasury.  But within himself he felt greater jealousy than his flatterers and the sorceress had suggested to him; considering, that by the fairy’s assistance the prince his son might perform things infinitely above his own power, notwithstanding his greatness and riches; therefore, more intent upon his ruin, he went to consult the sorceress again, who advised him to engage the prince to bring him some of the water of the fountain of lions.

In the evening, when the sultan was surrounded as usual by all his court, and the prince came to pay his respects among the rest, he addressed himself to him in these words:  “Son, I have already expressed to you how much I am obliged for the present of the tent you have procured me, which I esteem the most valuable curiosity in my treasury:  but you must do one thing more, which will be no less agreeable to me.  I am informed that the fairy your spouse makes use of a certain water, called the water of the fountain of lions, which cures all sorts of fevers, even the most dangerous; and as I am perfectly well persuaded my health is dear to you, I do not doubt but you will ask her for a bottle of that water, and bring it me as a sovereign remedy, which I may use as I have occasion.  Do me this important service, and complete the duty of a good son towards a tender father.”

Prince Ahmed, who believed that the sultan his father would have been satisfied with so singular and useful a tent as that which he had brought, and that he would not have imposed any new task upon him which might hazard the fairy’s displeasure, was thunderstruck at this new request, notwithstanding the assurance she had given him of granting him whatever lay in her power.  After a long silence, he said, “I beg of your majesty to be assured, that there is nothing I would not undertake to procure which may contribute to the prolonging of your life, but I could wish it might not be by the means of my wife.  For this reason I dare not promise to bring the water.  All I can do is, to assure you I will request it of her; but it will be with as great reluctance as I asked for the tent.”

The next morning prince Ahmed returned to the fairy Perie Banou, and related to her sincerely and faithfully all that had passed at his father’s court from the giving of the tent, which he told her he received with the utmost gratitude, to the new request he had charged him to make.  He added:  “But, my princess, I only tell you this as a plain account of what passed between me and my father.  I leave you to your own pleasure, whether you will gratify or reject this his new desire.  It shall be as you please.”

“No, no,” replied the fairy, “I am glad that the sultan of the Indies knows that you are not indifferent to me.  I will satisfy him, and whatever advice the sorceress may give him (for I see that he hearkens to her counsel), he shall find no fault with you or me.  There is much wickedness in this demand, as you will understand by what I am going to tell you.  The fountain of lions is situated in the middle of a court of a great castle, the entrance into which is guarded by four fierce lions, two of which sleep alternately, while the other two are awake.  But let not that frighten you.  I will supply you with means to pass by them without danger.”

The fairy Perie Banou was at that time at work with her needle; and as she had by her several clues of thread, she took up one, and presenting it to prince Ahmed, said, “First take this clue of thread, I will tell you presently the use of it.  In the second place, you must have two horses; one you must ride yourself, and the other you must lead, which must be loaded with a sheep cut into four quarters, that must be killed to-day.  In the third place, you must be provided with a bottle, which I will give you, to bring the water in.  Set out early to-morrow morning, and when you have passed the iron gate throw before you the clue of thread, which will roll till it reaches the gates of the castle.  Follow it, and when it stops, as the gates will be open, you will see the four lions.  The two that are awake will, by their roaring, wake the other two.  Be not alarmed, but throw each of them a quarter of the sheep, and then clap spurs to your horse, and ride to the fountain.  Fill your bottle without alighting, and return with the same expedition.  The lions will be so busy eating they will let you pass unmolested.”

Prince Ahmed set out the next morning at the time appointed him by the fairy, and followed her directions punctually.  When he arrived at the gates of the castle, he distributed the quarters of the sheep among the four lions, and passing through the midst of them with intrepidity, got to the fountain, filled his bottle, and returned safe.  When he had got a little distance from the castle gates, he turned about; and perceiving two of the lions coming after him, drew his sabre, and prepared himself for defence.  But as he went forwards, he saw one of them turn out of the road at some distance, and shewed by his head and tail that he did not come to do him any harm, but only to go before him, and that the other stayed behind to follow.  He therefore put his sword again into its scabbard.  Guarded in this manner he arrived at the capital of the Indies; but the lions never left him till they had conducted him to the gates of the sultan’s palace; after which they returned the way they had come, though not without alarming the populace, who fled or hid themselves to avoid them, notwithstanding they walked gently and shewed no signs of fierceness.

A number of officers came to attend the prince while he dismounted, and conduct him to the sultan’s apartment, who was at that time conversing with his favourites.  He approached the throne, laid the bottle at the sultan’s feet, kissed the rich carpet which covered the footstool, and rising, said, “I have brought you, sir, the salutary water which your majesty so much desired to store up among other rarities in your treasury; but at the same time wish you such health as never to have occasion to make use of it.”

After the prince had concluded his compliment, the sultan placed him on his right hand, and said, “Son, I am much obliged to you for this valuable present; as also for the great danger you have exposed yourself to on my account (which I have been informed of by the sorceress, who knows the fountain of lions); but do me the pleasure, continued he, to inform me by what address, or rather by what incredible power, you have been preserved.”

“Sir,” replied prince Ahmed, “I have no share in the compliment your majesty is pleased to make me; all the honour is due to the fairy my spouse, and I take no other merit than that of having followed her advice.”  Then he informed the sultan what that advice was, by the relation of his expedition, and how he had conducted himself.  When he had done, the sultan, who shewed outwardly all the demonstrations of joy, but secretly became more and more jealous, retired into an inward apartment, whence he sent for the sorceress.

The sorceress, on her arrival, saved the sultan the trouble of telling her of the success of prince Ahmed’s journey, which she had heard before she came, and therefore was prepared with a new request.  This she communicated to the sultan, who declared it the next day to the prince, in the midst of all his courtiers, in these words:  “Son, I have one thing yet to ask of you; after which, I shall expect nothing more from your obedience, nor your interest with your wife.  This request is, to bring me a man not above a foot and a half high, whose beard is thirty feet long, who carries upon his shoulders a bar of iron of five hundred weight, which he uses as a quarter-staff, and who can speak.”

Prince Ahmed, who did not believe that there was such a man in the world as his father had described, would gladly have excused himself; but the sultan persisted in his demand, and told him the fairy could do more incredible things.

Next day the prince returned to the subterraneous kingdom of Perie Banou, to whom he related his father’s new demand, which, he said, he looked upon to be a thing more impossible than the two first.  “For,” added he, “I cannot imagine there is or can be such a man in the world; without doubt he has a mind to try whether I am silly enough to search, or if there is such a man he seeks my ruin.  In short, how can we suppose that I should lay hold of a man so small, armed as he describes? what arms can I use to reduce him to submission?  If there are any means, I beg you will tell me how I may come off with honour this time also.”

“Do not alarm yourself, prince,” replied the fairy:  “you ran a risk in fetching the water of the fountain of the lions for your father; but there is no danger in finding this man.  It is my brother Schaibar, who is so far from being like me, though we both had the same father, that he is of so violent a nature, that nothing can prevent his giving bloody marks of his resentment for a slight offence; yet, on the other hand, is so liberal as to oblige any one in whatever they desire.  He is made exactly as the sultan your father has described him; and has no other arms than a bar of iron of five hundred pounds weight, without which he never stirs, and which makes him respected.  I will send for him, and you shall judge of the truth of what I tell you; but prepare yourself not to be alarmed at his extraordinary figure.”  “What! my queen,” replied prince Ahmed, “do you say Schaibar is your brother?  Let him be ever so ugly or deformed I shall be so far from being frightened at his appearance, that I shall love and honour him, and consider him as my nearest relation.”

The fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish to be set with a fire in it under the porch of her palace, with a box of the same metal:  out of the latter she took some incense, and threw it into the fire, when there arose a thick cloud of smoke.

Some moments after, the fairy said to prince Ahmed, “Prince, there comes my brother; do you see him?” The prince immediately perceived Schaibar, who was but a foot and a half high, coming gravely with his heavy bar on his shoulder; his beard thirty feet long, which supported itself before him, and a pair of thick moustaches in proportion, tucked up to his ears, and almost covering his face:  his eyes were very small, like a pig’s, and deep sunk in his head, which was of an enormous size, and on which he wore a pointed cap:  besides all this, he had a hump behind and and before.

If prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Perie Banou’s brother, he would not have been able to behold him without fear; but knowing who he was, he waited for him with the fairy, and received him without the least concern.

Schaibar, as he came forwards, looked at the prince with an eye that would have chilled his soul in his body, and asked Perie Banou, when he first accosted her, who that man was?  To which she replied, “He is my husband, brother; his name is Ahmed; he is a son of the sultan of the Indies.  The reason why I did not invite you to my wedding was, I was unwilling to divert you from the expedition you were engaged in, and from which I heard with pleasure you returned victorious; on his account I have taken the liberty now to call for you.”

At these words, Schaibar, looking at prince Ahmed with a favourable eye, which however diminished neither his fierceness nor savage look, said, “Is there any thing, sister, wherein I can serve him? he has only to speak.  It is enough for me that he is your husband, to engage me to do for him whatever he desires.”  “The sultan his father,” replied Perie Banou, “has a curiosity to see you, and I desire he may be your guide to the sultan’s court.”  “He needs but lead the way; I will follow him,” replied Schaibar.  “Brother,” resumed Perie Banou, “it is too late to go to-day, therefore stay till to-morrow morning; and in the mean time, as it is fit you should know all that has passed between the sultan of the Indies and prince Ahmed since our marriage, I will inform you this evening.”

The next morning, after Schaibar had been informed of all that was proper for him to know, he set out with prince Ahmed, who was to present him to the sultan.  When they arrived at the gates of the capital, the people, as soon as they saw Schaibar, ran and hid themselves in their shops and houses, shutting their doors, while others taking to their heels, communicated their fear to all they met, who stayed not to look behind them; insomuch, that Schaibar and prince Ahmed, as they went along, found all the streets and squares desolate, till they came to the palace, where the porters, instead of preventing Schaibar from entering, ran away too; so that the prince and he advanced without any obstacle to the council-hall, where the sultan was seated on his throne and giving audience.  Here likewise the officers, at the approach of Schaibar, abandoned their posts, and gave them free admittance.

Schaibar, carrying his head erect, went fiercely up to the throne, without waiting to be presented by prince Ahmed, and accosted the sultan of the Indies in these words:  “You have asked for me,” said he; “see, here I am, what would you have with me?”

The sultan, instead of answering, clapped his hands before his eyes, and turned away his head, to avoid the sight of so terrible an object.  Schaibar was so much provoked at this uncivil and rude reception, after he had given him the trouble to come so far, that he instantly lifted up his iron bar, saying, “Speak, then;” let it fall on his head, and killed him, before prince Ahmed could intercede in his behalf.  All that he could do was to prevent his killing the grand vizier, who sat not far from him on his right hand, representing to him that he had always given the sultan his father good advice.  “These are they then,” said Schaibar, “who gave him bad;” and as he pronounced these words, he killed all the other viziers on the right and left, flatterers and favourites of the sultan, who were prince Ahmed’s enemies.  Every time he struck he crushed some one or other, and none escaped but those who, not rendered motionless by fear, saved themselves by flight.

When this terrible execution was over, Schaibar came out of the council-hall into the court-yard with the iron bar upon his shoulder, and looking at the grand vizier, who owed his life to prince Ahmed, said, “I know there is here a certain sorceress, who is a greater enemy of the prince my brother-in-law than all those base favourites I have chastised; let her be brought to me immediately.”  The grand vizier instantly sent for her, and as soon as she was brought, Schaibar, knocking her down with his iron bar, said, “Take the reward of thy pernicious counsel, and learn to feign sickness again;” he left her dead on the spot.

After this he said, “This is not yet enough; I will treat the whole city in the same manner, if they do not immediately acknowledge prince Ahmed my brother-in-law as sultan of the Indies.”  Then all who were present made the air ring with the repeated acclamations of “Long life to sultan Ahmed;” and immediately after, he was proclaimed through the whole metropolis.  Schaibar caused him to be clothed in the royal vestments, installed him on the throne, and after he had made all swear homage and fidelity, returned to his sister Perie Banou, whom he brought with great pomp, and made her to be owned sultaness of the Indies.

As for prince Ali and princess Nouronnihar, as they had no concern in the conspiracy, prince Ahmed assigned them a considerable province, with its capital, where they spent the rest of their lives.  Afterwards he sent an officer to Houssain, to acquaint him with the change, and make him an offer of any province he might choose; but that prince thought himself so happy in his solitude, that he desired the officer to return his brother thanks for the kindness he designed him, assuring him of his submission; but that the only favour he desired was, to be indulged with leave to live retired in the place he had chosen for his retreat.

Thestory of the sisters who envied their
younger sister.

There was an emperor of Persia named Khoosroo Shaw, who, when he first came to his crown, in order to obtain a knowledge of affairs, took great pleasure in night adventures, attended by a trusty minister.  He often walked in disguise through the city, and met with many adventures.

After the ceremonies of his father’s funeral-rites and his own inauguration were over, the new sultan, as well from inclination as duty, went out one evening attended by his grand vizier, disguised like himself, to observe what was transacting in the city.  As he was passing through a street in that part of the town inhabited only by the meaner sort, he heard some people talking very loud; and going close to the house whence the noise proceeded, and looking through a crack in the door, perceived a light, and three sisters sitting on a sofa, conversing together after supper.  By what the eldest said, he presently understood the subject of their conversation was wishes:  “For,” said she, “since we have got upon wishes, mine shall be to have the sultan’s baker for my husband, for then I shall eat my fill of that bread, which by way of excellence is called the sultan’s:  let us see if your tastes are as good as mine.”  “For my part,” replied the second sister, “I wish I was wife to the sultan’s chief cook, for then I should eat of the most excellent dishes; and as I am persuaded that the sultan’s bread is common in the palace, I should not want any of that; therefore you see,” addressing herself to her eldest sister, “that I have a better taste than you.”

The youngest sister, who was very beautiful, and had more charms and wit than the two elder, spoke in her turn:  “For my part, sisters,” said she, “I shall not limit my desires to such trifles, but take a higher flight; and since we are upon wishing, I wish to be the emperor’s queen consort.  I would make him father of a prince, whose hair should be gold on one side of his head, and silver on the other; when he cried, the tears from his eyes should be pearl; and when he smiled, his vermilion lips should look like a rose-bud fresh blown.”

The three sisters’ wishes, particularly that of the youngest, seemed so singular to the sultan, that he resolved to gratify them in their desires; but without communicating his design to his grand vizier, he charged him only to take notice of the house, and bring the three sisters before him the following day.

The grand vizier, in executing the emperor’s orders, would but just give the sisters time to dress themselves to appear before him, without telling them the reason.  He brought them to the palace, and presented them to the emperor, who said to them, “Do you remember the wishes you expressed last night, when you were all in so pleasant a mood?  Speak the truth; I must know what they were.”

At these unexpected words of the emperor, the three sisters were much confounded.  They cast down their eyes and blushed, and the colour which rose in the cheeks of the youngest quite captivated the emperor’s heart.  Modesty, and fear lest they might have offended the emperor by their conversation, kept them silent.  The emperor perceiving their confusion, said, to encourage them, “Fear nothing, I did not send for you to distress you; and since I see that is the effect of the question I asked, without my intending it, as I know the wish of each, I will relieve you from your fears.  You,” added he, “who wished to be my wife shall have your desire this day; and you,” continued he, addressing himself to the two elder sisters, “shall also be married to my chief baker and cook.”

As soon as the sultan had declared his pleasure, the youngest sister, setting her eldest an example, threw herself at the emperor’s feet, to express her gratitude.  “Sir,” said she, “my wish, since it is come to your majesty’s knowledge, was expressed only in the way of conversation and amusement.  I am unworthy of the honour you do me, and supplicate your pardon for my presumption.”  The two other sisters would have excused themselves also; but the emperor interrupting them, said, “No, no; it shall be as I have declared; every one’s wish shall be fulfilled.”

The nuptials were all celebrated that day, as the emperor had resolved, but in a different manner.  The youngest sister’s were solemnized with all the rejoicings usual at the marriages of the emperors of Persia; and those of the other two sisters according to the quality and distinction of their husbands; the one as the sultan’s chief baker, and the other as head cook.

The two elder felt strongly the disproportion of their marriages to that of their younger sister.  This consideration made them far from being content, though they were arrived at the utmost height of their late wishes, and much beyond their hopes.  They gave themselves up to an excess of jealousy, which not only disturbed their joy, but was the cause of great troubles and afflictions to the queen consort their younger sister.  They had not an opportunity to communicate their thoughts to each other on the preference the emperor had given her, but were altogether employed in preparing themselves for the celebration of their marriages.  Some days afterwards, when they had an opportunity of seeing each other at the public baths, the eldest said to the other, “Well, what say you to our sister’s great fortune?  Is not she a fine person to be a queen!” “I must own,” said the other sister, “I cannot conceive what charms the emperor could discover to be so bewitched by the young gipsy.  Was it a reason sufficient for him not to cast his eyes on you, because she was somewhat younger?  You were as worthy of his bed; and in justice he ought to have preferred you.”

“Sister,” said the elder, “I should not have regretted if his majesty had but pitched upon you; but that he should choose that hussy really grieves me.  But I will revenge myself; and you, I think, are as much concerned as me; therefore I propose that we should contrive measures, and act in concert in a common cause:  communicate to me what you think the likeliest way to mortify her, while I, on my side, will inform you what my desire of revenge shall suggest to me.”

After this wicked agreement, the two sisters saw each other frequently, and consulted how they might disturb and interrupt the happiness of the queen.  They proposed a great many ways, but in deliberating about the manner of executing them, found so many difficulties, that they durst not attempt them.  In the mean time, they often went together to make her visits with a detestable dissimulation, and every time shewed her all the marks of affection they could devise, to persuade her how overjoyed they were to have a sister raised to so high a fortune.  The queen, on her part, constantly received them with all the demonstrations of esteem they could expect:  from a sister who was not puffed up with her high dignity, and loved them as cordially as before.

Some months after her marriage, the queen found herself to be with child.  The emperor expressed great joy, which was communicated to all the court, and spread throughout the empire of Persia.  Upon this news the two sisters came to pay their compliments, and proffered their service to deliver her, desiring her, if not provided with a midwife, to accept of them.

The queen said to them most obligingly, “Sisters, I should desire nothing more, if it was absolutely in my power to make the choice.  I am however obliged to you for your good-will, but must submit to what the emperor shall order on this occasion.  Let your husbands employ their friends to make interest, and get some courtier to ask this favour of his majesty; and if he speaks to me about it, be assured that I shall not only express the pleasure he does me, but thank him for making choice of you.”

The two husbands applied themselves to some courtiers their patrons, and begged of them to use their interest to procure their wives the honour they aspired to.  Those patrons exerted themselves so much in their behalf, that the emperor promised them to consider of the matter, and was as good as his word; for in conversation with the queen, he told her, that he thought her sisters were the most proper persons to assist her in her labour; but would not name them before he had asked her consent.  The queen, sensible of the deference the emperor so obligingly paid her, said to him, “Sir, I was prepared to do as your majesty might please to command.  But since you have been so kind as to think of my sisters, I thank you for the regard you have shewn them for my sake; and therefore I shall not dissemble, that I had rather have them than strangers.”

The emperor named the queen’s two sisters to be her midwives; and from that time they went frequently to the palace, overjoyed at the opportunity they should have of executing the detestable wickedness they had meditated against the queen.

When the queen’s time was up she was safely delivered of a young prince, as bright as the day; but neither his innocence nor beauty could move the cruel hearts of the merciless sisters.  They wrapped him up carelessly in his cloths, and put him into a basket, which they abandoned to the stream of a small canal, that ran under the queen’s apartment, and declared that she was delivered of a little dead dog, which they produced.  This disagreeable intelligence was announced to the emperor, who became so angry at the circumstance, that he was likely to have occasioned the queen’s death, if his grand vizier had not represented to him, that he could not, without injustice, make her answerable for the caprices of nature.

In the mean time, the basket in which the little prince was exposed was carried by the stream beyond a wall, which bounded the prospect of the queen’s apartment, and from thence floated with the current down the gardens.  By chance the intendant of the emperor’s gardens, one of the principal and most considerable officers of the kingdom, was walking in the garden by the side of this canal, and perceiving a basket floating, called to a gardener, who was not far off, to bring it to shore, that he might see what it contained.  The gardener, with a rake which he had in his hand, drew the basket to the side of the canal, took it up, and gave it to him.

The intendant of the gardens was extremely surprised to see in the basket a child, which, though he knew it could be but just born, had very fine features.  This officer had been married several years, but though he had always been desirous of having children, Heaven had never blessed him with any.  This accident interrupted his walk:  he made the gardener follow him with the child; and when he came to his own house, which was situated at the entrance into the gardens of the palace, went into his wife’s apartment.  “Wife,” said he, “as we have no children of our own, God has sent us one.  I recommend him to you; provide him a nurse, and take as much care of him as if he were our own son; for, from this moment, I acknowledge him as such.”  The intendant’s wife received the child with great joy, and took particular pleasure in the care of him.  The intendant himself would not inquire too narrowly whence the child came.  He saw plainly it came not far off the queen’s apartment; but it was not his business to examine too closely into what had passed, nor to create disturbances in a place where peace was so necessary.

The following year the queen consort was brought to bed of another prince, on whom the unnatural sisters had no more compassion than on his brother; but exposed him likewise in a basket, and set him adrift in the canal, pretending this time that the sultaness was delivered of a cat.  It was happy also for this child that the intendant of the gardens was walking by the canal side, who had it carried to his wife, and charged her to take as much care of it as of the former; which was as agreeable to her inclination as it was to that of the intendant.

The emperor of Persia was more enraged this time against the queen than before, and she had felt the effects of his anger if the grand vizier’s remonstrances had not prevailed.

The third time the queen lay in she was delivered of a princess, which innocent babe underwent the same fate as the princes her brothers; for the two sisters being determined not to desist from their detestable schemes, till they had seen the queen their younger sister at least cast off, turned out, and humbled, exposed this infant also on the canal.  But the princess, as well as the two princes her brothers, was preserved from death by the compassion and charity of the intendant of the gardens.

To this inhumanity the two sisters added a lie and deceit as before.  They produced a piece of wood, and affirmed it to be a false birth of which the queen had been delivered.

Khoosroo Shaw could no longer contain himself, when he was informed of the new extraordinary birth.  “What!” said he; “this woman, unworthy of my bed, will fill my palace with monsters, if I let her live any longer!  No, it shall not be; she is a monster herself, and I must rid the world of her.”  He pronounced sentence of death, and ordered the grand vizier to see it executed.

The grand vizier and the courtiers who were present cast themselves at the emperor’s feet, to beg of him to revoke the sentence.  “Your majesty, I hope, will give me leave,” said the grand vizier, “to represent to you, that the laws which condemn persons to death were made to punish crimes; the three extraordinary labours of the queen are not crimes; for in what can she be said to have contributed towards them?  Many other women have had, and have the same every day, and are to be pitied, but not punished.  Your majesty may abstain from seeing her, but let her live.  The affliction in which she will spend the rest of her life, after the loss of your favour, will be a punishment sufficiently distressing.”

The emperor of Persia considered with himself, and reflecting that it was unjust to condemn the queen to death for what had happened, said, “Let her live then; I will spare her life; but it shall be on this condition, that she shall desire to die more than once every day.  Let a wooden shed be built for her at the gate of the principal mosque, with iron bars to the windows, and let her be put into it, in the coarsest habit; and every Mussulmaun that shall go into the mosque to prayers shall spit in her face.  If any one fail, I will have him exposed to the same punishment; and that I maybe punctually obeyed, I charge you, vizier, to appoint persons to see this done.”

The emperor pronounced his sentence in such a tone that the grand vizier durst not further remonstrate; and it was executed, to the great satisfaction of the two envious sisters.  A shed was built, and the queen, truly worthy of compassion, was put into it, and exposed ignominiously to the contempt of the people; which usage, as she did not deserve it, she bore with a patient resignation that excited the admiration as well as compassion of those who judged of things better than the vulgar.

The two princes and the princess were, in the mean time, nursed and brought up by the intendant of the gardens and his wife with all the tenderness of a father and mother; and as they advanced in age, they all shewed marks of superior dignity, but the princess in particular, which discovered itself every day by their docility and inclinations above trifles, different from those of common children, and by a certain air which could only belong to exalted birth.  All this increased the affections of the intendant and his wife, who called the eldest prince Bahman, and the second Perviz, both of them names of the most ancient emperors of Persia, and the princess, Perie-zadeh, which name also had been borne by several queens and princesses of the kingdom.

As soon as the two princes were old enough, the intendant provided proper masters to teach them to read and write; and the princess their sister, who was often with them, shewing a great desire to learn, the intendant, pleased with her quickness, employed the same master to teach her also.  Her emulation, vivacity, and piercing wit, made her in a little time as great a proficient as her brothers.

From that time the brothers and sister had the same masters in geography, poetry, history, and even the secret sciences; and made so wonderful a progress, that their tutors were amazed, and frankly owned that they could teach them no farther.  At the hours of recreation, the princess learned to sing and play upon all sorts of instruments; and when the princes were learning to ride she would not permit them to have that advantage over her, but went through all the exercises with them, learning to ride also, to bend the bow, and dart the reed or javelin, and often-times outdid them in the race, and other contests of agility.

The intendant of the gardens was so overjoyed to find his adopted children so accomplished in all the perfections of body and mind, and that they so well requited the expense he had been at in their education, that he resolved to be at a still greater:  for as he had till then been content only with his lodge at the entrance of the garden, and kept no country house, he purchased a country seat at a short distance from the city, surrounded by a large tract of arable land, meadows, and woods.  As the house was not sufficiently handsome nor convenient, he pulled it down, and spared no expense in building a mansion more magnificent.  He went every day to hasten, by his presence, the great number of workmen he employed; and as soon as there was an apartment ready to receive him, passed several days together there when his presence was not necessary at court; and by the same exertions, the interior was furnished in the richest manner, answerably to the magnificence of the edifice.  Afterwards he made gardens, according to a plan drawn by himself.  He took in a large extent of ground, which he walled round, and stocked with fallow deer, that the princes and princess might divert themselves with hunting when they chose.

When this country seat was finished and fit for habitation, the intendant of the gardens went and cast himself at the emperor’s feet, and after representing how long he had served, and the infirmities of age which he found growing upon him, begged he would permit him to resign his charge into his majesty’s disposal, and retire.  The emperor gave him leave, with the more pleasure because he was satisfied with his long services, both in his father’s reign and his own; and when he granted it, asked what he should do to recompense him?  “Sir,” replied the intendant of the gardens, “I have received so many obligations from your majesty and the late emperor your father of happy memory, that I desire no more than the honour of dying in your favour.”

He took his leave of the emperor, and retired with the two princes and the princess to the country retreat he had built.  His wife had been dead some years, and he himself had not lived above six months with them before he was surprised by so sudden a death, that he had not time to give them the least account of the manner in which he had discovered them.

The princes Bahman and Perviz, and the princess Perie-zadeh, who knew no other father than the intendant of the emperor’s gardens, regretted and bewailed him as such, and paid all the honours in his funeral obsequies which love and filial gratitude required of them.  Satisfied with the plentiful fortune he had left them, they lived together in perfect union, free from the ambition of distinguishing themselves at court, or aspiring to places of honour and dignity, which they might easily have obtained.

One day when the two princes were hunting, and the princess had remained at home, a religious old woman came to the gate, and desired leave to go in to say her prayers, it being then the hour.  The servants asked the princess’s permission, who ordered them to shew her into the oratory, which the intendant of the emperor’s gardens had taken care to fit up in his house, for want of a mosque in the neighbourhood.  She bade them also, after the good woman had finished her prayers, shew her the house and gardens, and then bring her to her.

The old woman went into the oratory, said her prayers, and when she came out two of the princess’s women invited her to see the house and gardens; which civility she accepted, followed them from one apartment to another, and observed, like a person who understood what belonged to furniture, the nice arrangement of every thing.  They conducted her also into the garden, the disposition of which she found so well planned, that she admired it, observing that the person who had formed it must have been an excellent master of his art.  Afterwards she was brought before the princess, who waited for her in the great hall, which in beauty and richness exceeded all that she had admired in the other apartments.

As soon as the princess saw the devout woman, she said to her, “My good mother, come near and sit down by me.  I am overjoyed at the happiness of having the opportunity of profiting for some moments by the good example and conversation of such a person as you, who have taken the right way by dedicating yourself to the service of God.  I wish every one were as wise.”

The devout woman, instead of sitting on a sofa, would only sit upon the edge of one.  The princess would not permit her to do so, but rising from her seat,’and taking her by the hand, obliged her to come and sit by her.  The good woman, sensible of the civility, said, “Madam, I ought not to have so much respect shewn me; but since you command, and are mistress of your own house, I will obey you.”  When she had seated herself, before they entered into any conversation, one of the princess’s women brought a little low stand of mother of pearl and ebony, with a china dish full of cakes upon it, and many others set round it full of fruits in season, and wet and dry sweetmeats.

The princess took up one of the cakes, and presenting her with it, said, “Eat, good mother, and make choice of what you like best; you had need to eat after coming so far.”  “Madam,” replied the good woman, “I am not used to eat such delicacies; but will not refuse what God has sent me by so liberal a hand as yours.”

While the devout woman was eating, the princess ate a little too, to bear her company, and asked her many questions upon the exercise of devotion which she practised, and how she lived:  all which she answered with great modesty.  Talking of several things, at last she asked her what she thought of the house, and how she liked it.

“Madam,” answered the devout woman, “I must certainly have very bad taste to disapprove any thing in it, since it is beautiful, regular, and magnificently furnished with exactness and judgment, and all its ornaments adjusted in the best manner.  Its situation is an agreeable spot, and no garden can be more delightful; but yet if you will give me leave to speak my mind freely, I will take the liberty to tell you, that this house would be incomparable if it had three things which are wanting to complete it.”  “My good mother,” replied the princess Perie-zadeh, “what are those?  I conjure you, in God’s name, to tell me what they are:  I will spare nothing to get them, if it be possible.”

“Madam,” replied the devout woman, “the first of these three things is the speaking bird, so singular a creature, that it draws round it all the singing birds of the neighbourhood, which come to accompany his song.  The second is the singing tree, the leaves of which are so many mouths, which form an harmonious concert of different voices, and never cease.  The third is the yellow water of a gold colour, a single drop of which being poured into a vessel properly prepared, it increases so as to fill it immediately, and rises up in the middle like a fountain, which continually plays, and yet the basin never overflows.”

“Ah! my good mother,” cried the princess, “how much am I obliged to you for the knowledge of these curiosities!  They are surprising, and I never before heard there were such wonderful rarities in the world; but as I am persuaded that you know, I expect that you should do me the favour to inform me where they are to be found.”

“Madam,” replied the good woman, “I should be unworthy the hospitality you have with so much goodness shewn me, if I should refuse to satisfy your curiosity in that point; and am glad to have the honour to tell you, that these curiosities are all to be met with in the same spot on the confines of this kingdom, towards India.  The road to it lies before your house, and whoever you send needs but follow it for twenty days, and on the twentieth let him only ask the first person he meets where the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water are, and he will be informed.”  After saying this, she rose from her seat, took her leave, and went her way.

The princess Perie-zadeh’s thoughts were so taken up with what the devout woman had told her of the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water, that she never perceived her departure, till she wanted to ask her some question for her better information; for she thought that what she had told her was not a sufficient reason for exposing herself by undertaking a long journey, possibly to no purpose.  However, she would not send after her, but endeavoured to remember all she had told her; and when she thought she had recollected every word, took real pleasure in thinking of the satisfaction she should have if she could get these wonderful curiosities into her possession; but the difficulties she apprehended, and the fear of not succeeding, made her very uneasy.

She was absorbed in these thoughts when her brothers returned from hunting; who, when they entered the great hall, instead of finding her lively and gay, as she used to be be, were amazed to see her so pensive, and hanging down her head as if something troubled her.

“Sister,” said prince Bahman, “what is become of all your mirth and gaiety?  Are you not well? or has some misfortune befallen you?  Has any body given you reason to be so melancholy?  Tell us, that we may know how to act, and give you some relief.  If any one has affronted you, we will resent his insolence.”

The princess remained in the same posture some time without answering; but at last lifted up her eyes to look at her brothers, and then held them down again, telling them nothing disturbed her.

“Sister,” said prince Bahman, “you conceal the truth from us; there must be something of consequence.  It is impossible we could observe so sudden a change if nothing was the matter with you.  You would not have us satisfied with the evasive answer you have given:  do not conceal any thing, unless you would have us suspect that you renounce the strict union which has hitherto subsisted between us from our infancy.”

The princess, who had not the smallest intention to offend her brothers, would not suffer them to entertain such a thought, but said, “When I told you nothing disturbed me, I meant nothing that was of importance to you; but to me it is of some consequence; and since you press me to tell you by our strict union and friendship, which are so dear to me, I will.  You think, and I always believed so too, that this house was so complete that nothing was wanting.  But this day I have learned that it wants three rarities, which would render it so perfect that no country seat in the world could be compared with it.  These three things are, the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water.  After she had informed them wherein consisted the excellency of these rarities,” “A devout woman,” added she, “has made this discovery to me, told me the place where they are to be found, and the way thither.  Perhaps you may imagine these things to be trifles, and of little consequence to render our house complete, that without these additions it will always be thought sufficiently elegant with what it already contains, and that we can do without them.  You may think as you please; but I cannot help telling you that I am persuaded they are absolutely necessary, and I shall not be easy without them.  Therefore, whether you value them or not, I desire you to consider what person you may think proper for me to send in search of the curiosities I have mentioned.”

“Sister,” replied prince Bahman, “nothing can concern you in which we have not an equal interest.  It is enough that you have an earnest desire for the things you mention to oblige us to take the same interest; but if you had not, we feel ourselves inclined of our own accord and for our own individual satisfaction.  I am persuaded my brother is of the same opinion, and therefore we ought to undertake this conquest; for the importance and singularity of the undertaking deserve that name.  I will take that charge upon myself; only tell me the place, and the way to it, and I will defer my journey no longer than till to-morrow.”

“Brother,” said prince Perviz, “it is not proper that you, who are the head and director of our family, should be absent.  I desire my sister would join with me to oblige you to abandon your design, and allow me to undertake it.  I hope to acquit myself as well as you, and it will be a more regular proceeding.”  “I am persuaded of your good-will, brother,” replied prince Bahman, “and that you would succeed as well as myself in this journey; but I have resolved, and will undertake it.  You shall stay at home with our sister, and I need not recommend her to you.”  He spent the remainder of the day in making preparations for his journey, and informing himself from the princess of the directions which the devout woman had left her.

The next morning Bahman mounted his horse, and Perviz and the princess embraced, and wished him a good journey.  But in the midst of their adieus, the princess recollected what she had not thought of before.  “Brother,” said she, “I had quite forgotten the accidents which attend travellers.  Who knows whether I shall ever see you again?  Alight, I beseech you, and give up this journey.  I would rather be deprived of the sight and possession of the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water, than run the risk of never seeing you more.”

“Sister,” replied Bahman, smiling at the sudden fears of the princess, “my resolution is fixed, but were it not, I should determine upon it now, and you must allow me to execute it.  The accidents you speak of befall only those who are unfortunate; but there are more who are not so.  However, as events are uncertain, and I may fail in this undertaking, all I can do is to leave you this knife.”

Bahman, pulling a knife from his vestband, and presenting it in the sheath to the princess, said, “Take this knife, sister, and give yourself the trouble sometimes to pull it out of the sheath:  while you see it clean as it is now, it will be a sign that I am alive; but if you find it stained with blood, then you may believe me dead, and indulge me with your prayers.”

The princess could obtain nothing more of Bahman.  He bade adieu to her and prince Perviz for the last time, and rode away.  When he got into the road he never turned to the right hand nor to the left, but went directly forward towards India.  The twentieth day he perceived on the road side a hideous old man, who sat under a tree some small distance from a thatched house, which was his retreat from the weather.

His eye-brows were as white as snow, as was also the hair of his head; his whiskers covered his mouth, and his beard and hair reached down to his feet.  The nails of his hands and feet were grown to an extensive length; a flat broad umbrella covered his head.  He had no clothes, but only a mat thrown round his body.

This old man was a dervish, for many years retired from the world, to give himself up entirely to the service of God; so that at last he became what we have described.

Prince Bahman, who had been all that morning very attentive to see if he could meet with any body who could give him information of the place he was in search of, stopped when he came near the dervish, alighted, in conformity to the directions which the devout woman had given the princess Perie-zadeh, and leading his horse by the bridle, advanced towards him, and saluting him, said, “God prolong your days, good father, and grant you the accomplishment of your desires.”

The dervish returned the prince’s salutation, but so unintelligibly that he could not understand one word he said:  prince Bahman perceiving that this difficulty proceeded from the dervish’s whiskers hanging over his mouth, and unwilling to go any farther without the instructions he wanted, pulled out a pair of scissors he had about him, and having tied his horse to a branch of the tree, said, “Good dervish, I want to have some talk with you:  but your whiskers prevent my understanding what you say:  and if you will consent, I will cut off some part of them and of your eye-brows, which disfigure you so much that you look more like a bear than a man.”

The dervish did not oppose the offer; and when the prince had cut off as much hair as he thought fit, he perceived that the dervish had a good complexion, and that he did not seem so old as he really was.  “Good dervish,” said he, “if I had a glass I would shew you how young you look:  you are now a man, but before nobody could tell what you were.”

The kind behaviour of prince Bahman made the dervish smile, and return his compliment.  “Sir,” said he, “whoever you are, I am obliged by the good office you have performed, and am ready to shew my gratitude by doing any thing in my power for you.  You must have alighted here upon some account or other.  Tell me what it is, and I will endeavour to serve you.”

“Good dervish,” replied prince Bahman, “I am in search of the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water; I know these three rarities are not far from hence, but cannot tell exactly the place where they are to be found; if you know, I conjure you to shew me the way, that I may not lose my labour after so long a journey.”

The prince, while he spoke, observed that the dervish changed countenance, held down his eyes, looked very serious, and instead of making any reply, remained silent; which obliged him to say to him again, “Good father, I fancy you heard me; tell me whether you know what I ask you, that I may not lose my time, but inform myself somewhere else.”

At last the dervish broke silence.  “Sir,” said he to prince Bahman, “I know the way you ask of me; but the regard which I conceived for you the first moment I saw you, and which is grown stronger by the service you have done me, kept me in suspense, whether I should give you the satisfaction you desire.”  “What motive can hinder you?” replied the prince; “and what difficulties do you find in so doing?” “I will tell you,” replied the dervish; “the danger you are going to expose yourself to is greater than you may suppose.  A number of gentlemen of as much bravery and courage as you can possibly possess have passed this way, and asked me the same question.  When I had used all my endeavours to persuade them to desist, they would not believe me; at last, I yielded, to their importunities; I was compelled to shew them the way, and I can assure you they have all perished, for I have not seen one come back.  Therefore, if you have any regard for your life, take my advice, go no farther, but return home.”

Prince Bahman persisted in his resolution.  “I will not suppose,” said he to the dervish, “but that your advice is sincere.  I am obliged to you for the friendship you express for me; but whatever may be the danger, nothing shall make me change my intention:  whoever attacks me, I am well armed, and can say I am as brave as any one.”  “But they who will attack you are not to be seen,” replied the dervish; “how will you defend yourself against invisible persons?” “It is no matter,” answered the prince; “all you say shall not persuade me to do any thing contrary to my duty.  Since you know the way, I conjure you once more to inform me.”

When the dervish found he could not prevail upon prince Bahman, and that he was obstinately bent to pursue his journey notwithstanding his friendly remonstrance, he put his hand into a bag that lay by him and pulled out a bowl, which he presented to him.  “Since I cannot prevail on you to attend to my advice,” said he, “take this bowl; when you are on horseback throw it before you, and follow it to the foot of a mountain, where it will stop.  As soon as the bowl stops, alight, leave your horse with the bridle over his neck, and he will stand in the same place till you return.  As you ascend you will see on your right and left a great number of large black stones, and will hear on all sides a confusion of voices, which will utter a thousand injurious abuses to discourage you, and prevent your reaching the summit of the mountain.  Be not afraid; but above all things, do not turn your head to look behind you; for in that instant you will be changed into such a black stone as those you see, which are all youths who have failed in this enterprise.  If you escape the danger of which I give you but a faint idea, and get to the top of the mountain, you will see a cage, and in that cage is the bird you seek; ask him which are the singing tree and the yellow water, and he will tell you.  I have nothing more to say; this is what you have to do, and the danger you have to avoid; but if you are prudent, you will take my advice, and not expose your life.  Consider once more while you have time that the difficulty is almost insuperable.”

“I am obliged to you for your repeated advice,” replied prince Bahman, after he had received the bowl, “but cannot follow it.  However, I will endeavour to conform myself to that part of it which bids me not look behind me as I shall ascend the mountain, and I hope to come and see you again soon, and thank you when I have obtained what I am seeking.”  After these words, to which the dervish made no other answer than that he should be overjoyed to see him again, the prince mounted his horse, took his leave of the dervish with a respectful salute, and threw the bowl before him.

The bowl rolled away unceasingly with as much swiftness as when prince Bahman first hurled it from his hand, which obliged him to put his horse to the same pace to avoid losing sight of it, and when it had reached the foot of the mountain it stopped.  The prince alighted from his horse, laid the bridle on his neck; and having first surveyed the mountain, and seen the black stones, began to ascend; but had not gone four steps, before he heard the voices mentioned by the dervish, though he could see nobody.  Some said, “Where is that fool going? where is he going? what would he have? do not let him pass.”  Others, “Stop him, catch him, kill him;” and others with a voice like thunder, “Thief! assassin! murderer!” while some in a gibing tone cried, “No, no, do not hurt him; let the pretty fellow pass, the cage and bird are kept for him.”

Notwithstanding all these troublesome voices, prince Bahman ascended with courage and resolution for some time, but the voices redoubled with so loud a din near him, both behind and before, that at last he was seized with dread, his legs trembled under him, he staggered, and finding that his strength failed him, he forgot the dervish’s advice, turned about to run down the hill, and was that instant changed into a black stone; a metamorphosis which had happened to many before him, who had attempted the ascent.  His horse likewise underwent the same change.

From the time of prince Bahman’s departure, the princess Perie-zadeh always wore the knife and sheath in her girdle, and pulled it out several times in a day, to know whether her brother was alive.  She had the consolation to understand he was in perfect health, and to talk of him frequently with prince Perviz, who sometimes prevented her by asking her what news.

On the fatal day that prince Bahman was transformed into a stone, as prince Perviz and the princess were talking together in the evening, as usual, the prince desired his sister to pull out the knife to know how their brother did.  The princess readily complied, and seeing the blood run down the point was seized with so much horror that she threw it down.  “Ah! my dear brother,” cried she, “I have been the cause of your death, and shall never see you more!  Why did I tell you of the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water; or rather, of what importance was it to me to know whether the devout woman thought this house ugly or handsome, or complete or not?  I wish to Heaven she had never addressed herself to me?  Deceitful hypocrite!” added she, “is this the return you have made for the kind reception I gave you?  Why did you tell me of a bird, a tree, and a water, which, imaginary as I am persuaded they are, by my dear brother’s death, yet disturb me by your enchantment?”

Prince Perviz was as much afflicted at the death of prince Bahman as the princess; but not to waste time in needless regret, as he knew that she still passionately desired possession of the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the golden water, he interrupted her, saying, “Sister, our regret for our brother is vain and useless; our grief and lamentations cannot restore him to life; it is the will of God, we must submit to it, and adore the decrees of the Almighty without searching into them.  Why should you now doubt of the truth of what the holy woman told you? do you think she spoke to you of three things that were not in being? and that she invented them on purpose to deceive you, who had given her no cause to do so, but received her with so much goodness and civility?  Let us rather believe that our brother’s death is owing to some error on his part, or some accident which we cannot conceive.  It ought not therefore to prevent us from pursuing our object.  I offered to go this journey, and am now more resolved than ever; his example has no effect upon my resolution; to-morrow I will depart.”

The princess did all she could to dissuade prince Perviz, conjuring him not to expose her to the danger of losing two brothers; but he was obstinate, and all the remonstrances she could urge had no effect upon him.  Before he went, that she might know what success he had, he left her a string of a hundred pearls, telling her, that if they would not run when she should count them upon the string, but remain fixed, that would be a certain sign he had undergone the same fate as his brother; but at the same time told her he hoped it would never happen, but that he should have the happiness to see her again to their mutual satisfaction.

Prince Perviz, on the twentieth day after his departure, met the same dervish in the same place as his brother Bahman had done before him.  He went directly up to him, and after he had saluted, asked him, if he could tell him where to find the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the golden water?  The dervish urged the same difficulties and remonstrances as he had done to prince Bahman, telling him, that a young gentleman, who very much resembled him, was with him a short time before; that, overcome by his importunity and pressing instances, he had shewn him the way, given him a guide, and told him how he should act to succeed; but that he had not seen him since, and doubted not but he had shared the same fate as all other adventurers.

“Good dervish,” answered prince Perviz, “I know whom you speak of; he was my elder brother, and I am informed of the certainty of his death, but know not the cause.”  “I can tell you,” replied the dervise; “he was changed into a black stone, as all I speak of have been; and you must expect the same transformation, unless you observe more exactly than he has done the advice I gave him, in case you persist in your resolution, which I once more entreat you to renounce.”

“Dervish,” said prince Perviz, “I cannot sufficiently express how much I am obliged for the concern you take in my life, who am a stranger to you, and have done nothing to deserve your kindness:  but I thoroughly considered this enterprise before I undertook it, and I cannot now relinquish it:  therefore I beg of you to do me the same favour you have done my brother.  Perhaps I may have better success in following your directions.”  “Since I cannot prevail with you,” said the dervish, “to give up your obstinate resolution, if my age did not prevent me, and I could stand, I would get up to reach you a bowl I have here, which will shew you the way.”

Without giving the dervish time to say more, the prince alighted from his horse and went to the dervish, who had taken a bowl out of his bag, in which he had a great many, and gave it him, with the same directions he had given prince Bahman; and after warning him not to be discouraged by the voices he should hear without seeing any body, however threatening they might be, but to continue his way up the hill till he saw the cage and bird, he let him depart.

Prince Perviz thanked the dervish, and when he had remounted, and taken leave, threw the bowl before his horse, and spurring him at the same time, followed it.  When the bowl came to the bottom of the hill it stopped, the prince alighted, and stood some time to recollect the dervish’s directions.  He encouraged himself, and began to walk up with a resolution to reach the summit; but before he had gone above six steps, he heard a voice, which seemed to be near, as of a man behind him, say in an insulting tone, “Stay, rash youth, that I may punish you for your presumption.”

Upon this affront the prince, forgetting the dervish’s advice, clapped his hand upon his sword, drew it, and turned about to revenge himself; but had scarcely time to see that nobody followed him before he and his horse were changed into black stones.

In the mean time the princess Perie-zadeh, several times a day after her brother’s departure, counted her chaplet.  She did not omit it at night, but when she went to bed put it about her neck; and in the morning when she awoke counted over the pearls again to see if they would slide.

The day that prince Perviz was transformed into a stone, she was counting over the pearls as she used to do, when all at once they became immoveably fixed, a certain token that the prince her brother was dead.  As she had determined what to do in case it should so happen, she lost no time in outward demonstrations of grief, which she concealed as much as possible; but having disguised herself in man’s apparel, armed and equipped, she mounted her horse the next morning, having told her servants she should return in two or three days, and took the same road her brothers had done.

The princess, who had been used to ride on horseback in hunting, supported the fatigue of so long a journey better than most ladies could have done; and as she made the same stages as her brothers, she also met with the dervish on the twentieth day.  When she came near him, she alighted off her horse, leading him by the bridle, went and sat down by the dervish, and after she had saluted him, said, “Good dervish, give me leave to rest myself; and do me the favour to tell me if you have not heard that there are somewhere in this neighbourhood a speaking bird, a singing tree, and golden water.”

“Princess,” answered the dervish, “for so I must call you, since by your voice I know you to be a woman disguised in man’s apparel, I thank you for your compliment, and receive the honour you do me with great pleasure.  I know the place well where these things are to be found:  but what makes you ask me this question?”

“Good dervish,” replied the princess, “I have had such a flattering relation of them given me, that I have a great desire to possess them.”  “Madam,” replied the dervish, “you have been told the truth.  These curiosities are more singular and surprising than they have been represented to you:  but you have not been made acquainted with the difficulties which must be surmounted in order to obtain them.  If you had been fully informed of these, you would not have undertaken so troublesome and dangerous an enterprise.  Take my advice, go no farther, return, and do not urge me to contribute towards your ruin.”

“Good father,” said the princess, “I have travelled a great way, and should be sorry to return without executing my design.  You talk of difficulties, and danger of life; but you do not tell me what those difficulties are, and wherein the danger consists.  This is what I desire to know, that I may consider and judge whether I can trust my courage and strength to brave them.”

The dervish repeated to the princess what he had said to the princes Bahman and Perviz, exaggerating the difficulties of climbing up to the top of the mountain, where she was to make herself mistress of the bird, which would inform her of the singing tree and golden water.  He magnified the noise and din of the terrible threatening voices which she would hear on all sides of her, without seeing any body, and the great number of black stones, alone sufficient to strike terror.  He entreated her to reflect that those stones were so many brave gentlemen, so metamorphosed for having omitted to observe the principal condition of success in the perilous undertaking, which was not to look behind them before they had got possession of the cage.

When the dervish had done, the princess replied, “By what I comprehend from your discourse, the difficulties of succeeding in this affair are, first, the getting up to the cage without being frightened at the terrible din of voices I shall hear; and secondly, not to look behind me:  for this last, I hope I shall be mistress enough of myself to observe it.  As to the first, I own that those voices, such as you represent them to be, are capable of striking terror into the most undaunted; but as in all enterprises and dangers every one may use stratagem, I desire to know of you if I may use any in one of so great importance.”  “And what stratagem is it you would employ?” said the dervish.  “To stop my ears with cotton,” answered the princess, “that the voices, however loud and terrible, may make the less impression upon my imagination, and my mind remain free from that disturbance which might cause me to lose the use of my reason.”

“Princess,” replied the dervish, “of all the persons who have addressed themselves to me for information, I do not know that ever one made use of the contrivance you propose.  All I know is, that they all perished.  If you persist in your design, you may make the experiment.  You will be fortunate if it succeeds; but I would advise you not to expose yourself to the danger.”

“My good father,” replied the princess, “nothing can hinder my persisting in my design.  I am sure my precaution will succeed, and am resolved to try the experiment.  Nothing remains for me but to know which way I must go; I conjure you not to deny me the favour of that information.”  The dervish exhorted her again, for the last time, to consider well what she was going to do; but finding her resolute, he took out a bowl, and presenting it to her, said, “Take this bowl; mount your horse again, and when you have thrown it before you, follow it through all its windings, till it stops at the bottom of the mountain, there alight, and ascend the hill.  Go; you know the rest.”

After the princess had thanked the dervish, and taken her leave of him, she mounted her horse, threw the bowl before her, and followed it till it stopped at the foot of the mountain.

The princess alighted, stopped her ears with cotton; and after she had well examined the path leading to the summit, began with a moderate pace, and walked up with intrepidity.  She heard the voices, and perceived the great service the cotton was to her.  The higher she went, the louder and more numerous the voices seemed; but they were not capable of making any impression upon her.  She heard a great many affronting speeches and raillery very disagreeable to a woman, which she only laughed at.  “I mind not,” said she to herself, “all that can be said, were it worse; I only laugh at them, and shall pursue my way.”  At last she got so high, that she could perceive the cage and the bird, which endeavoured, with the voices, to frighten her, crying in a thundering tone, notwithstanding the smallness of its size, “Retire, fool, and approach no nearer.”

The princess, encouraged by this object, redoubled her speed, and by effort gained the summit of the mountain, where the ground was level; then running directly to the cage, and clapping her hand upon it, cried, “Bird, I have you, and you shall not escape me.”

While Perie-zadeh was pulling the cotton out of her ears, the bird said to her, “Heroic princess, be not angry with me for joining with those who exerted themselves to preserve my liberty.  Though in a cage, I was content with my condition; but since I am destined to be a slave, I would rather be yours than any other person’s, since you have obtained me so courageously.  From this instant, I swear inviolable fidelity, and an entire submission to all your commands.  I know who you are; you do not:  but the time will come when I shall do you essential service, which I hope you will think yourself obliged to me for.  As a proof of my sincerity, tell me what you desire, and I am ready to obey you.”

The princess’s joy was the more inexpressible, because the conquest she had made had cost her the lives of two beloved brothers, and given her more trouble and danger than she could have imagined, notwithstanding what the dervish had represented to her.  “Bird,” said she, “it was my intention to have told you that I wish for many things which are of importance; but I am overjoyed that you have shewn your good-will and prevented me.  I have been told that there is not far off a golden water, the property of which is very wonderful; before all things, I ask you to tell me where it is.”  The bird shewed her the place, which was just by, and she went and filled a little silver flagon which she had brought with her.  She returned to the bird and said, “Bird, this is not enough; I want also the singing tree; tell me where it is.”  “Turn about,” said the bird, “and you will see behind you a wood, where you will find this tree.”  The princess went into the wood, and by the harmonious concert she heard soon knew the tree among many others, but it was very large and high.  She came back to the bird, and said to it, “Bird, I have found the singing tree, but I can neither pull it up by the roots, nor carry it.”  The bird replied, “It is not necessary that you should take it up by the roots; it will be sufficient to break off a branch, and carry it to plant in your garden; it will take root as soon as it is put into the earth, and in a little time will grow to as fine a tree as that you have seen.”

When the princess had obtained possession of the three things which the devout woman had told her of, and for which she had conceived so great a desire, she said again to the bird, “Bird, what you have yet done for me is not sufficient.  You have been the cause of the death of my two brothers, who must be among the black stones which I saw as I ascended the mountain.  I wish to take them home with me.”

The bird seemed reluctant to satisfy the princess in this point, and indeed made some difficulty to comply.  “Bird,” said the princess, “remember you told me that you were my slave.  You are so; and your life is in my disposal.”  “That I cannot deny,” answered the bird; “but although what you now ask is more difficult than all the rest, yet I will do it for you.  Cast your eyes around,” added he, “and look if you can see a little pitcher.”  “I see it already,” said the princess.  “Take it then,” said he, “and as you descend the mountain, sprinkle a little of the water that is in it upon every black stone.”

The princess took up the pitcher accordingly, carried with her the cage and bird, the flagon of golden water, and the branch of the singing tree, and as she descended the mountain, threw a little of the water on every black stone, which was changed immediately into a man; and as she did not miss one stone, all the horses, both of the princes her brothers, and of the other gentlemen, resumed their natural forms.  She instantly recognized Bahman and Perviz, as they did her, and ran to embrace her.  She returned their embraces, and expressed her amazement.  “What do you here, my dear brothers?” said she; they told her they had been asleep.  “Yes,” replied she, “and if it had not been for me, perhaps you might have slept till the day of judgment.  Do not you remember that you came to fetch the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the yellow water? and did not you see, as you came along, the place covered with black stones?  Look and see if there be any now.  The gentlemen and their horses who surround us, and you yourselves, were these black stones.  If you desire to know how this wonder was performed,” continued she, shewing the pitcher, which she set down at the foot of the mountain, having no further use for it, “it was done by virtue of the water which was in this pitcher, with which I sprinkled every stone.  After I had made the speaking bird (which you see in this cage) my slave, by his directions I found out the singing tree, a branch of which I have now in my hand; and the yellow water, which this flagon is filled with; but being still unwilling to return without taking you with me, I constrained the bird, by the power I had over him, to afford me the means.  He told me where to find this pitcher, and the use I was to make of it.”

The princes Bahman and Perviz learnt by this relation the obligation they had to the princess their sister; as did all the other gentlemen, who were collected round, and expressed to the princess, that, far from envying her happiness in the conquest she had made, and which they all had aspired to, they thought they could not any otherwise acknowledge the favour she had done them, or better express their gratitude to her for restoring them to life again, than by declaring themselves all her slaves, and that they were ready to obey her in whatever she should command.

“Gentlemen,” replied the princess, “if you had given any attention to my words you might have observed that I had no other intention in what I have done than to recover my brothers; therefore, if you have received any benefit, you owe me no obligation, and I have no further share in your compliment than your politeness towards me, for which I return you my thanks.  In other respects, I regard each of you individually as free as you were before your misfortunes, and I rejoice with you at the happiness which has accrued to you by my means.  Let us however stay no longer in a place where we have nothing to detain us; but mount our horses, and return to our respective homes.”

The princess took her horse, which stood in the place where she had left him.—Before she mounted, prince Bahman desired her to give him the cage to carry.  “Brother,” replied the princess, “the bird is my slave, and I will carry him myself; if you will take the pains to carry the branch of the singing tree, there it is; only hold the cage while I get on horseback.”  When she had mounted her horse; and prince Bahman had given her the cage, she turned about and said to prince Perviz, “I leave the flagon of golden water to your care, if it will not be too much trouble for you to carry it.”  Prince Perviz took charge of it with pleasure.

When Bahman, Perviz, and all the gentlemen had mounted their horses, the princess waited for some of them to lead the way.  The two princes paid that compliment to the gentlemen, and they again to the princess, who, finding that none of them would accept of the honour, but that it was reserved for her, addressed herself to them and said, “Gentlemen, I expect that some of you should lead the way;” to which one who was nearest to her, in the name of the rest, replied, “Madam, were we ignorant of the respect due to your sex, yet after what you have done for us there is no deference we would not willingly pay you, notwithstanding your modesty; we entreat you no longer to deprive us of the happiness of following you.”

“Gentlemen,” said the princess, “I do not deserve the honour you do me, and accept it only because you desire it.”  At the same time she led the way, and the two princes and the gentlemen followed.

This illustrious company called upon the dervish as they passed, to thank him for his reception and wholesome advice, which they had all found to be sincere.  But he was dead:  whether of old age, or because he was no longer necessary to shew the way to the obtaining the three rarities which the princess Perie-zadeh had secured, did not appear.  They pursued their route, but lessened in their numbers every day.  The gentlemen who, as we said before, had come from different countries, after severally repeating their obligations to the princess and her brothers, took leave of them one after another as they approached the road they had come.

As soon as the princess reached home, she placed the cage in the garden; and the bird no sooner began to warble than he was surrounded by nightingales, chaffinches, larks, linnets, goldfinches, and every species of birds of the country.  And the branch of the singing tree was no sooner set in the midst of the parterre, a little distance from the house, than it took root, and in a short time became a large tree, the leaves of which gave as harmonious a concert as those of the tree from which it was gathered.  A large basin of beautiful marble was placed in the garden; and when it was finished, the princess poured into it all the yellow water from the flagon, which instantly increased and swelled so much that it soon reached up to the edges of the basin, and afterwards formed in the middle a fountain twenty feet high, which fell again into the basin perpetually without running over.

The report of these wonders was presently spread abroad, and as the gates of the house and those of the gardens were shut to nobody, a great number of people came to admire them.

Some days after, when the princes Bahman and Perviz had recovered from the fatigue of their journey, they resumed their former way of living; and as their usual diversion was hunting, they mounted their horses and went for the first time since their return, not to their own demesne, but two or three leagues from their house.  As they pursued their sport, the emperor of Persia came in pursuit of game upon the same ground.  When they perceived by the number of horsemen in different places that he would soon be up, they resolved to discontinue their chase, and retire to avoid encountering him; but in the very road they took they chanced to meet him in so narrow a way that they could not retreat without being seen.  In their surprise they had only time to alight, and prostrate themselves before the emperor, without lifting up their heads to look at him.  The emperor, who saw they were as well mounted and dressed as if they had belonged to his court, had the curiosity to see their faces.  He stopped, and commanded them to rise.  The princes rose up, and stood before him with an easy and graceful air, accompanied with respectful modest countenances.  The emperor took some time to view them before he spoke:  and after he had admired their good air and mien, asked them who they were, and where they lived.

“Sir,” said prince Bahman, “we are the sons of the late intendant of your majesty’s gardens:  and live in a house which he built a little before he died, till we should be fit to serve your majesty, and ask of you some employ when opportunity offered.”

“By what I perceive,” replied the emperor, “you love hunting.”  “Sir,” replied prince Bahman, “it is our common exercise, and what none of your majesty’s subjects who intend to bear arms in your armies ought, according to the ancient custom of the kingdom, to neglect.”  The emperor, charmed with so prudent an answer, said, “Since it is so, I should be glad to see your expertness in the chase; choose your own game.”

The princes mounted their horses again, and followed the emperor; but had not gone far before they saw many wild beasts together.  Prince Bahman chose a lion, and prince Perviz a bear; and pursued them with so much intrepidity, that the emperor was surprised.  They came up with their game nearly at the same time, and darted their javelins with so much skill and address, that they pierced, the one the lion, and the other the bear, so effectually, that the emperor saw them fall one after the other.  Immediately afterwards prince Bahman pursued another bear, and prince Perviz another lion, and killed them in a short time, and would have beaten out for fresh game, but the emperor would not let them, and sent to them to come to him.  When they approached he said, “If I would have given you leave, you would soon have destroyed all my game:  but it is not that which I would preserve, but your persons; for I am so well assured your bravery may one time or other be serviceable to me, that from this moment your lives will be always dear to me.”

The emperor, in short, conceived so great a kindness for the two princes, that he invited them immediately to make him a visit:  to which prince Bahman replied, “Your majesty does us an honour we do not deserve; and we beg you will excuse us.”

The emperor, who could not comprehend what reason the princes could have to refuse this token of his favour, pressed them to tell him why they excused themselves.  “Sir,” said prince Bahman, “we have a sister younger than ourselves, with whom we live in such perfect union, that we undertake nothing before we consult her, nor she any thing without asking our advice.”  “I commend your brotherly affection,” answered the emperor.  “Consult your sister, meet me here tomorrow, and give me an answer.”

The princes went home, but neglected to speak of their adventure in meeting the emperor, and hunting with him, and also of the honour he had done them, by asking them to go home with him; yet did not the next morning fail to meet him at the place appointed.  “Well,” said the emperor, “have you spoken to your sister?  And has she consented to the pleasure I expect of seeing you?” The two princes looked at each other and blushed.  “Sir,” said prince Bahman, “we beg your majesty to excuse us:  for both my brother and I forgot.”  “Then remember to-day,” replied the emperor, “and be sure to bring me an answer to-morrow.”

The princes were guilty of the same fault a second time, and the emperor was so good-natured as to forgive their negligence; but to prevent their forgetfulness the third time, he pulled three little golden balls out of a purse, and put them into prince Bahman’s bosom.  “These balls,” said he, smiling, “will prevent your forgetting a third time what I wish you to do for my sake; since the noise they will make by falling on the floor, when you undress, will remind you, if you do not recollect it before.”  The event happened just as the emperor foresaw; and without these balls the princes had not thought of speaking to their sister of this affair.  For as prince Bahman unloosed his girdle to go to bed the balls dropped on the floor, upon which he ran into prince Perviz’s chamber, when both went into the princess Perie-zadeh’s apartment, and after they had asked her pardon for coming at so unseasonable a time, they told her all the circumstances of their meeting the emperor.

The princess was somewhat surprised at this intelligence.  “Your meeting with the emperor,” said she, “is happy and honourable, and may in the end be highly advantageous to you, but it is very disagreeable and distrustful to me.  It was on my account, I know, you refused the emperor, and I am infinitely obliged to you for doing so.  I know by this your affection is equal to my own, since you would rather be guilty of incivility towards the emperor than violate the brotherly union we have sworn to each other.  You judge right, for if you had once gone you would insensibly have been engaged to leave me, to devote yourselves to him.  But do you think it an easy matter absolutely to refuse the emperor what he seems so earnestly to desire?  Monarchs will be obeyed in their desires, and it may be dangerous to oppose them; therefore, if to follow my inclination I should dissuade you from shewing the complaisance he expects from you, it may expose you to his resentment, and may render myself and you miserable.  These are my sentiments:  but before we conclude upon any thing let us consult the speaking bird, and hear what he says; he is penetrating, and has promised his assistance in all difficulties.”

The princess sent for the cage, and after she had related the circumstances to the bird in the presence of her brothers, asked him what they should do in this perplexity?  The bird answered, “The princes your brothers must conform to the emperor’s pleasure, and in their turn invite him to come and see your house.”

“But, bird,” replied the princess, “my brothers and I love one another, and our friendship is yet undisturbed.  Will not this step be injurious to that friendship?” “Not at all,” replied the bird; “it will tend rather to cement it.”  “Then,” answered the princess, “the emperor will see me.”  The bird told her it was necessary he should, and that everything would go better afterwards.

Next morning the princes met the emperor hunting, who, at as great a distance as he could make himself be heard, asked them if they had remembered to speak to their sister?  Prince Bahman approached, and answered, “Sir, your majesty may dispose of us as you please; we are ready to obey you; for we have not only obtained our sister’s consent with great ease, but she took it amiss that we should pay her that deference in a matter wherein our duty to your majesty was concerned.  But if we have offended, we hope you will pardon us.”  “Do not be uneasy on that account,” replied the emperor; “so far from taking amiss what you have done, I highly approve of your conduct, and hope you will have the same deference and attachment to my person, if I have ever so little share in your friendship.”  The princes, confounded at the emperor’s goodness, returned no other answer but a low obeisance, to shew the great respect with which they received it.

The emperor, contrary to his usual custom, did not hunt long that day.  Presuming that the princes possessed wit equal to their courage and bravery, he longed with impatience to converse with them more at liberty.  He made them ride on each side of him, an honour which, without speaking of the principal courtiers who accompanied him, was envied by the grand vizier, who was much mortified to see them preferred before him.

When the emperor entered his capital, the eyes of the people, who stood in crowds in the streets, were fixed upon the two princes Bahman and Perviz; and they were earnest to know who they might be, whether foreigners or natives.

All, however, agreed in wishing that the emperor had been blessed with two such handsome princes, and said, “He might have had children as old, if the queen, who had suffered the punishment of her misfortune, had been more fortunate in her lyings-in.”

The first thing that the emperor did when he arrived at his palace was to conduct the princes into the principal apartments; who praised without affectation, like persons conversant in such matters, the beauty and symmetry of the rooms, and the richness of the furniture and ornaments.  Afterwards a magnificent repast was served up, and the emperor made them sit with him, which they at first refused; but finding it was his pleasure, they obeyed.

The emperor, who had himself much learning, particularly in history, foresaw that the princes, out of modesty and respect, would not take the liberty of beginning any conversation.  Therefore, to give them an opportunity, he furnished them with subjects all dinner-time.  But whatever subject he introduced, they shewed so much wit, judgment, and discernment, that he was struck with admiration.  “Were these my own children,” said he to himself, “and I had improved their talents by suitable education, they could not have been more accomplished or better informed.”  In short, he took such great pleasure in their conversation, that after having sat longer than usual he led them into his closet, where he pursued his conversation with them, and at last said, “I never supposed that there were among my subjects in the country youths so well brought up, so lively, so capable; and I never was better pleased with any conversation than yours:  but it is time now we should relax our minds with some diversion; and as nothing is more capable of enlivening the mind than music, you shall hear a vocal and instrumental concert which may not be disagreeable to you.”

The emperor had no sooner spoken for them than the musicians, who had orders to attend, entered, and answered fully the expectations the princes had been led to entertain of their abilities.  After the concerts, an excellent farce was acted, and the entertainment was concluded by dancers of both sexes.

The two princes seeing night approach, prostrated themselves at the emperor’s feet; and having first thanked him for the favours and honours he had heaped upon them, asked his permission to retire; which was granted by the emperor, who, in dismissing them, said, “I give you leave to go; but remember I brought you to the palace myself only to shew you the way; you will be always welcome, and the oftener you come the greater pleasure you will do me.”

Before they went out of the emperor’s presence, prince Bahman said, “Sir, may we presume to request that your majesty will do us and our sister the honour to pass by our house, and rest and refresh yourself after your fatigue, the first time you take the diversion of hunting in that neighbourhood?  It is not worthy your presence; but monarchs sometimes have vouchsafed to take shelter in a cottage.”  “My children,” replied the emperor; “your house cannot be otherwise than beautiful, and worthy of its owners.  I will call and see it with pleasure, which will be the greater for having for my hosts you and your sister, who is already dear to me from the account you give me of the rare qualities with which she is endowed; and this satisfaction I will defer no longer than to-morrow.  Early in the morning I will be at the place where I shall never forget that I first saw you.  Meet me, and you shall be my guides.”

When the princes Bahman and Perviz had returned home, they gave the princess an account of the distinguished reception the emperor had given them; and told her that they had invited him to do them the honour, as he passed by, to call at their house; and that he had appointed the next day.

“If it be so,” replied the princess, “we must think of preparing a repast fit for his majesty; and for that purpose I think it would be proper we should consult the speaking bird, he will tell us perhaps what meats the emperor likes best.”  The princes approved of her plan, and after they had retired she consulted the bird alone.  “Bird,” said she, “the emperor will do us the honour to-morrow to come and see our house, and we are to entertain him; tell us what we shall do to acquit ourselves to his satisfaction.”

“Good mistress,” replied the bird, “you have excellent cooks, let them do the best they can; but above all things, let them prepare a dish of cucumbers stuffed full of pearls, which must be set before the emperor in the first course before all the other dishes.”

“Cucumbers stuffed full of pearls!” cried princess Perie-zadeh, with amazement; “surely, bird, you do not know what you say; it is an unheard-of dish.  The emperor may admire it as a piece of magnificence, but he will sit down to eat, and not to admire pearls; besides, all the pearls I possess are not enough for such a dish.”

“Mistress,” said the bird, “do what I say, and be not uneasy about what may happen.  Nothing but good will follow.  As for the pearls, go early to-morrow morning to the foot of the first tree on your right hand in the park, dig under it, and you will find more than you want.”

That night the princess ordered a gardener to be ready to attend her, and the next morning early led him to the tree which the bird had told her of, and bade him dig at its foot.  When the gardener came to a certain depth, he found some resistance to the spade, and presently discovered a gold box about a foot square, which he shewed the princess.  “This,” said she, “is what I brought you for; take care not to injure it with the spade.”

When the gardener took up the box, he gave it into the princess’s hands, who, as it was only fastened with neat little hasps, soon opened it, and found it full of pearls of a moderate size, but equal, and fit for the use that was to be made of them.  Very well satisfied with having found this treasure, after she had shut the box again she put it under her arm, and went back to the house, while the gardener threw the earth into the hole at the foot of the tree as it had been before.

The princes Bahman and Perviz, who, as they were dressing themselves in their own apartments, saw the princess their sister in the garden earlier than usual, as soon as they could get out went to her, and met her as she was returning, with a gold box under her arm, which much surprised them.  “Sister,” said Bahman, “you carried nothing with you when we saw you before with the gardener, and now we see you have a golden box:  is this some treasure found by the gardener, and did he come and tell you of it?”

“No, brother,” answered the princess; “I took the gardener to the place where this casket was concealed, and shewed him where to dig:  but you will be more amazed when you see what it contains.”

The princess opened the box, and when the princes saw that it was full of pearls, which, though small, were of great value; they asked her how she came to the knowledge of this treasure?  “Brothers,” said she, “if nothing more pressing calls you elsewhere, come with me, and I will tell you.”  “What more pressing business,” said prince Perviz, “can we have than to be informed of what concerns us so much?  We have nothing to do to prevent our attending you.”  The princess, as they returned to the house, gave them an account of her having consulted the bird, as they had agreed she should, and the answer he had given her; the objection she had raised to preparing a dish of cucumbers stuffed full of pearls, and how he had told her where to find this box.  The princes and princess formed many conjectures to penetrate into what the bird could mean by ordering them to prepare such a dish; and after much conversation, though they could not by any means guess at his reason, they nevertheless agreed to follow his advice exactly.

As soon as the princess entered the house, she called for the head cook; and after she had given him directions about the entertainment for the emperor, said to him, “Besides all this, you must dress an extraordinary dish for the emperor’s own eating, which nobody else must have any thing to do with besides yourself.  This dish must be of cucumbers stuffed with these pearls;” and at the same time she opened him the box, and shewed him the pearls.

The chief cook, who had never heard of such a dish, started back, and shewed his thoughts by his looks; which the princess penetrating, said, “I see you take me to be mad to order such a dish, which you never heard of, and which one may say with certainty was never made.  I know this as well as you; but I am not mad, and give you these orders with the most perfect recollection.  You must invent and do the best you can, and bring me back what pearls are left.”  The cook could make no reply, but took the box and retired:  and afterwards the princess gave directions to all the domestics to have every thing in order, both in the house and gardens, to receive the emperor.

Next day the two princes went to the place appointed; and as soon as the emperor of Persia arrived the chase began, which lasted till the heat of the sun obliged him to leave off.  While prince Bahman stayed to conduit the emperor to their house, prince Perviz rode before to shew the way, and when he came in sight of the house, spurred his horse, to inform the princess Perie-zadeh that the emperor was approaching; but she had been told by some servants whom she had placed to give notice, and the prince found her waiting ready to receive him.

When the emperor had entered the court-yard, and alighted at the portico, the princess came and threw herself at his feet, and the two princes informed him she was their sister, and besought him to accept her respects.

The emperor stooped to raise her, and after he had gazed some time on her beauty, struck with her fine person and dignified air, he said, “The brothers are worthy of the sister, and she worthy of them; since, if I may judge of her understanding by her person, I am not amazed that the brothers would do nothing without their sister’s consent; but,” added he, “I hope to be better acquainted with you, my daughter, after I have seen the house.”

“Sir,” said the princess, “it is only a plain country residence, fit for such people as we are, who live retired from the great world.  It is not to be compared with houses in great cities, much less with the magnificent palaces of emperors.”  “I cannot perfectly agree with you in opinion,” said the emperor very obligingly, “for its first appearance makes me suspect you; however, I will not pass my judgment upon it till I have seen it all; therefore be pleased to conduct me through the apartments.”

The princess led the emperor through all the rooms except the hall; and, after he had considered them very attentively and admired their variety, “My daughter,” said he to the princess, “do you call this a country house?  The finest and largest cities would soon be deserted, if all country houses were like yours.  I am no longer surprised that you take so much delight in it, and despise the town.  Now let me see the garden, which I doubt not is answerable to the house.”

The princess opened a door which led into the garden; and the first object which presented itself to the emperor’s view was the golden fountain.  Surprised at so rare an object, he asked from whence that wonderful water, which gave so much pleasure to behold, had been procured; where was its source; and by what art it was made to play so high, that he thought nothing in the world was to be compared to it?  He said he would presently take a nearer view of it.

The princess then led him to the spot where the harmonious tree was planted; and there the emperor heard a concert, different from all he had ever heard before; and stopping to see where the musicians were, he could discern nobody far or near; but still distinctly heard the music, which ravished his senses.  “My daughter,” said he to the princess, “where are the musicians whom I hear?  Are they under ground, or invisible in the air?  Such excellent performers will hazard nothing by being seen; on the contrary, they would please the more.”

“Sir,” answered the princess smiling, “they are not musicians, but the leaves of the trees your majesty sees before you, which form this concert; and if you will give yourself the trouble to go a little nearer, you will be convinced, and the voices will be the more distinct.”

The emperor went nearer, and was so charmed with the sweet harmony, that he would never have been tired with hearing it, but that his desire to have a nearer view of the fountain of yellow water forced him away.  “Daughter,” said he, “tell me, I pray you, whether this wonderful tree was found in your garden by chance, or was a present made to you, or have you procured it from some foreign country?  It must certainly have come from a great distance, otherwise, curious as I am after natural rarities, I should have heard of it.  What name do you call it by?”

“Sir,” replied the princess, “this tree has no other name than that of the singing tree, and is not a native of this country.  It would at present take up too much time to tell your majesty by what adventures it came here; its history is connected with the yellow water, and the speaking bird, which came to me at the same time, and which your majesty may see after you have taken a nearer view of the golden water.  But if it be agreeable to your majesty, after you have rested yourself, and recovered the fatigue of hunting, which must be the greater because of the sun’s intense heat, I will do myself the honour of relating it to you.”

“My daughter,” replied the emperor, “my fatigue is so well recompensed by the wonderful things you have shewn me, that I do not feel it the least.  I think only of the trouble I give you.  Let us finish by seeing the yellow water.  I am impatient to see and admire the speaking bird.”

When the emperor came to the yellow water, his eyes were fixed so steadfastly upon the fountain, that he could not take them off.  At last, addressing himself to the princess, he said, “As you tell me, daughter, that this water has no spring or communication, I conclude that it is foreign, as well as the singing tree.”

“Sir,” replied the princess, “it is as your majesty conjectures; and to let you know that this water has no communication with any spring, I must inform you that the basin is one entire stone, so that the water cannot come in at the sides or underneath.  But what your majesty will think most wonderful is, that all this water proceeded but from one small flagon, emptied into this basin, which increased to the quantity you see, by a property peculiar to itself, and formed this fountain.”  “Well,” said the emperor, going from the fountain, “this is enough for one time.  I promise myself the pleasure to come and visit it often; but now let us go and see the speaking bird.”

As he went towards the hall, the emperor perceived a prodigious number of singing birds in the trees around, filling the air with their songs and warblings, and asked, why there were so many there, and none on the other trees in the garden?  “The reason, sir,” answered the princess, “is, because they come from all parts to accompany the song of the speaking bird, which your majesty may see in a cage in one of the windows of the hall we are approaching; and if you attend, you will perceive that his notes are sweeter than those of any of the other birds, even the nightingale.”

The emperor went into the hall; and as the bird continued singing, the princess raised her voice, and said, “My slave, here is the emperor, pay your compliments to him.”  The bird left off singing that instant, when all the other birds ceased also, and it said, “The emperor is welcome; God prosper him, and prolong his life.”  As the entertainment was served on the sofa near the window where the bird was placed, the sultan replied, as he was taking his seat, “Bird, I thank you, and am overjoyed to find in you the sultan and king of birds.”

As soon as the emperor saw the dish of cucumbers set before him, thinking it was stuffed in the best manner, he reached out his hand and took one; but when he cut it, was in extreme surprise to find it stuffed with pearls.  “What novelty is this?” said he “and with what design were these cucumbers stuffed thus with pearls, since pearls are not to be eaten?” He looked at the two princes and princess to ask them the meaning:  when the bird interrupting him, said, “Can your majesty be in such great astonishment at cucumbers stuffed with pearls, which you see with your own eyes, and yet so easily believe that the queen your wife was delivered of a dog, a cat, and a piece of wood?” “I believed these things,” replied the emperor, “because the midwives assured me of the facts.”  “Those midwives, sir,” replied the bird, “were the queen’s two sisters, who, envious of her happiness in being preferred by your majesty before them, to satisfy their envy and revenge, have abused your majesty’s credulity.  If you interrogate them, they will confess their crime.  The two brothers and the sister whom you see before you are your own children, whom they exposed, and who were taken in by the intendant of your gardens, who provided nurses for them, and took care of their education.”

This speech of the bird’s presently cleared up the emperor’s understanding.  “Bird,” cried he, “I believe the truth which you discover to me.  The inclination which drew me to them told me plainly they must be my own blood.  Come then, my sons, come, my daughter, let me embrace you, and give you the first marks of a father’s love and tenderness.”  The emperor then rose, and after having embraced the two princes and the princess, and mingled his tears with theirs, said, “It is not enough, my children; you must embrace each other, not as the children of the intendant of my gardens, to whom I have been so much obliged for preserving your lives, but as my own children, of the royal blood of the monarchs of Persia, whose glory, I am persuaded, you will maintain.”

After the two princes and princess had embraced mutually with new satisfaction, the emperor sat down again with them, and finished his meal in haste; and when he had done, said, “My children, you see in me your father; to-morrow I will bring the queen your mother, therefore prepare to receive her.”

The emperor afterwards mounted his horse, and returned with expedition to his capital.  The first thing he did, as soon as he had alighted and entered his palace, was to command the grand vizier to seize the queen’s two sisters.  They were taken from their houses separately, convicted, and condemned to be quartered; which sentence was put in execution within an hour.

In the mean time the emperor Khoosroo Shaw, followed by all the lords of his court who were then present, went on foot to the door of the great mosque; and after he had taken the queen out of the strict confinement she had languished under for so many years, embracing her in the miserable condition to which she was then reduced, said to her with tears in his eyes, “I come to entreat your pardon for the injustice I have done you, and to make you the reparation I ought; which I have begun, by punishing the unnatural wretches who put the abominable cheat upon me; and I hope you will look upon it as complete, when I present to you two accomplished princes, and a lovely princess, our children.  Come and resume your former rank, with all the honours which are your due.”  All this was done and said before great crowds of people, who flocked from all parts at the first news of what was passing, and immediately spread the joyful intelligence through the city.

Next morning early the emperor and queen, whose mournful humiliating dress was changed for magnificent robes, went with all their court to the house built by the intendant of the gardens, where the emperor presented the princes Bahman and Perviz, and the princess Perie-zadeh, to their enraptured mother.  “These, much injured wife,” said he, “are the two princes your sons, and this princess your daughter; embrace them with the same tenderness I have done, since they are worthy both of me and you.”  The tears flowed plentifully down their cheeks at these tender embraces, especially the queen’s, from the comfort and joy of having two such princes for her sons, and such a princess for her daughter, on whose account she had so long endured the severest afflictions.

The two princes and the princess had prepared a magnificent repast for the emperor and queen, and their court.  As soon as that was over, the emperor led the queen into the garden, and shewed her the harmonious tree and the beautiful effect of the yellow fountain.  She had seen the bird in his cage, and the emperor had spared no panegyric in his praise during the repast.

When there was nothing to detain the emperor any longer, he took horse, and with the princes Bahman and Perviz on his right hand, and the queen consort and the princess at his left, preceded and followed by all the officers of his court, according to their rank, returned to his capital.  Crowds of people came out to meet them, and with acclamations of joy ushered them into the city, where all eyes were fixed not only upon the queen, the two princes, and the princess, but also upon the bird, which the princess carried before her in his cage, admiring his sweet notes, which had drawn all the other birds about him, which followed him, flying from tree to tree in the country, and from one house-top to another in the city.  The princes Bahman and Perviz, and the princess Perie-zadeh, where at length brought to the palace with this pomp, and nothing was to be seen or heard all that night but illuminations and rejoicings both in the palace and in the utmost parts of the city, which lasted many days, and were continued throughout the empire of Persia, as intelligence of the joyful event reached the several provinces.

STORY OF THE SULTAN OF YEMEN AND HIS THREE SONS.

There was in the land of Yemen (Arabia Felix) a sultan, under whom were three tributary princes.  He had four children, three sons and a daughter.  He possessed greater treasures than could be estimated, as well as innumerable camels, horses, and flocks of sheep; and was held in awe by all contemporary sovereigns.

After a long and prosperous reign, age brought with it infirmity, and he at length became incapable of appearing in his hall of audience; upon which he commanded his sons to his presence, and said to them, “My wish is to divide among you, before my death, all my possessions, that you may be satisfied, and live in unanimity and brotherly affection with each other, and in obedience to my dying commands.”  They exclaimed, “To hear is to obey.”

The sultan then said, “My will is, that the eldest be sovereign in my room; that the second possess my treasures; and the third every description of animals.  Let no, one encroach upon another, but all assist each other.”  He then caused them to sign an agreement to abide by his bequests, and shortly afterwards was received into the mercy of the Almighty; upon which his sons prepared what was suitable to his dignity for his funeral.  They washed the corpse, enshrouded it, prayed over it, and having committed it to the earth, returned to their palaces; where the viziers, officers of state, and inhabitants of the metropolis, high and low, rich and poor, attended to console with them on the loss of their father.  The news of the death of the sultan was soon spread abroad into all the provinces, and deputations from every city came to condole with the princes.

After these ceremonies, the eldest prince demanded that he should be inaugurated sultan in the room of the deceased monarch, agreeably to his will; but this was not possible, as each of the other brothers was ambitious of being sovereign.  Contention and disputes now arose between them for the government, till at length the elder brother, wishing to avoid civil war, said, “Let us go and submit to the arbitration of one of the tributary sultans, and to let him whom he adjudges the kingdom peaceably enjoy it.”  To this they assented, as did also the viziers; and they departed, unattended, towards the capital of one of the tributary sultans.

When the princes had proceeded about half way on their journey, they reached a verdant spot, abounding in herbage and flowers, with a clear rivulet running through it, the convenience of which made them halt to refresh themselves.  They sat down and were eating, when one of the brothers casting his eyes on the grass, said, “A camel has lately passed this way loaded, half with sweetmeats and half with grain.”  “True,” cried another, “and he was blind of one eye.”  “Yes,” exclaimed the third, “and he had lost his tail.”  They had scarcely concluded their remarks, when the owner of the camel came up to them (for he had heard what they had said, and was convinced, as they had described the beast and his load, that they must have stopped him), crying out, that they had stolen his camel.  “We have not seen him,” answered the princes, “nor touched him.”  “By Allah!” replied he, “none but you can have taken him; and if you will not deliver him up, I will complain of you to the sultan.”  They rejoined, “It is well; let us go to the sultan.”

When all four had reached the palace, information was given of the arrival of the princes, and they were admitted to an audience, the owner of the camel following, who bawled out, “These men, my lord, by their own confession, have stolen my property, for they described him and the load he carried.”

The man then related what each of the princes, had said; upon which the sultan demanded if it was true.  They answered, “My lord, we have not seen the camel; but we chanced, as we were sitting on the grass taking some refreshment, to observe that part of the pasture had been grazed; upon which we supposed that the camel must have been blind of an eye, as the grass was only eaten on one side.  We then observed the dung of a camel in one heap on the ground, which made us agree that its tail must have been cut off, as it is the custom for camels to shake their tails, and scatter it abroad.  On the grass where the camel had lain down, we saw on one side flies collected in great numbers, but none on the other:  this made us conclude that one of the panniers must have contained sweets, and the other only grain.”  Upon hearing the above, the sultan said to the complainant, “Friend, go and look for thy camel, for these observations do not prove the theft on the accused, but only the strength of their understandings and penetration.”

The sultan now ordered apartments for the princes, and directed that they should be entertained in a manner befitting their rank; after which he left them to their repose.  In the evening, when the usual meal was brought in, the elder prince having taken up a cake of bread, said, “This bread, I am sure, was made by a sick woman.”  The second, on tasting some kid, exclaimed, “This kid was suckled by a bitch:”  and the third cried out, “Certainly this sultan must be illegitimate.”  At this instant the sultan, who had been listening, entered hastily, and exclaimed, “Wherefore utter ye these affronting speeches?” “Inquire,” replied the princes, “into what you have heard, and you will find all true.”

The sultan now retired to his haram, and on inquiry, found that the woman who had kneaded the bread was sick.  He then sent for the shepherd, who owned that the dam of the kid having died, he had suckled it upon a bitch.  Next, in a violent passion, he proceeded to the apartments of the sultana mother, and brandishing his cimeter—threatened her with death, unless she confessed whether he was son to the late sultan or not.

The sultana was alarmed, and said, “To preserve my life, I must speak truth.  Know then that thou art the son of a cook.  Thy father had no male offspring, at which he was uneasy:  on the same day myself and the wife of the cook lay in, I of a daughter and she of a son.  I was fearful of the coolness of the sultan, and imposed upon him the son of the cook for his own:  that son art thou, who now enjoyest an empire.”

The spurious sultan left the sultana in astonishment at the penetration of the brothers, whom he summoned to his presence, and inquired of them on what grounds they had founded their just suspicions respecting the bread, the kid, and himself.  “My lord,” replied the elder prince, “when I broke the cake, the flour fell out in lumps; and hence I guessed that she who made it had not strength to knead it sufficiently, and must have been unwell.”  “It is as thou hast said,” replied the sultan.  “The fat of the kid,” continued the second brother, “was all next the bone, and the flesh of every other animal but the dog has it next the skin.  Hence my surmise that it must have been suckled by a bitch.”  “Thou wert right,” answered the sultan; “but now for myself.”

“My reason for supposing thee illegitimate,” said the youngest prince, “was, because thou didst not associate with us, who are of the same rank with thyself.  Every man has properties which he inherits from his father, his grandfather, or his mother.  From his father, generosity, or avarice; from his grandfather, valour or cowardice; from his mother, bashfulness or impudence.”  “Thou hast spoken justly,” replied the sultan; “but why came ye to ask judgment of me, since ye are so much better able to decide difficult questions than myself?  Return home, and agree among yourselves.”  The princes did so; and obeyed the will of their father.

STORY OF THE THREE SHARPERS AND THE SULTAN.

Three very ingenious sharpers who associated together, being much distressed, agreed, in hopes of obtaining immediate relief, that they would go to the sultan, and pretend each to superior ability in some occupation.  Accordingly they proceeded to the metropolis, but found admission to the presence difficult; the sultan being at a garden palace surrounded by guards, who would not let them approach.  Upon this they consulted, and agreed to feign a quarrel, in hopes that their clamour would draw the notice of the sultan.  It did so:  he commanded them to be brought before him, inquired who they were, and the cause of their dispute.  “We were disputing,” said they, “concerning the superiority of our professions; for each of us possesses complete skill in his own.”  “What are your professions?” replied the sultan.  “I am,” said one, “O sovereign, a lapidary of wonderful skill.”  “I fear thou art an astonishing rascal,” exclaimed the sultan.

“I am,” said the second sharper, “a genealogist of horses.”  “And I,” continued the third, “a genealogist of mankind, knowing every one’s true descent; an art much more wonderful than that of either of my companions, for no one possesses it but myself, nor ever did before me.”  The sultan was astonished, but gave little credit to their pretensions:  yet he said to himself, “If these men speak truth, they are worthy of encouragement.  I will keep them near me till I have occasion to try them; when, if they prove their abilities, I will promote them; but if not, I will put them to death.”  He then allotted them an apartment, with an allowance of three cakes of bread and a mess of pottage daily; but placed spies over them, fearing lest they might escape.

Not long after this, a present of rarities was brought to the sultan, among which were two precious stones; one of them remarkably clear in its water, and the other with a flaw.  The sultan now bethought himself of the lapidary, and sent for him to his presence, when he gave him the clear jewel to examine, and demanded what he thought it was worth.

The sharper took the stone, and with much gravity turned it backwards and forwards in his hands, examining it with minute attention on every part; after which he said, “My lord, this jewel has a flaw in the very centre of it.”  When the sultan heard this, he was enraged against the sharper, and gave orders to strike off his head; saying, “This stone is free from blemish, and yet thou pretendest it hath a flaw.”  The executioner now advanced, laid hold of the sharper, bound him, and was going to strike, when the vizier entered, and seeing the sultan enraged, and the sharper under the cimeter, inquired the cause.  Being informed, he advanced towards the sultan, and said, “My lord, act not thus, but first break the stone:  should a flaw appear in it, the words of this man are true; but if it be found free from blemish, put him to death.”  The sultan replied, “Thy advice is just:”  and broke it in two with his mace.  In the middle he found a flaw, at which he was astonished, and exclaimed to the sharper, “By what means couldst thou discover the blemish?” He replied, “By the acuteness of my sight.”  The sultan then released him, and said, “Take him back to his companions, allow him a mess of pottage to himself, and two cakes of bread.”

Some time after this a tribute came from one of the provinces, part of which consisted of a beautiful black colt, in colour resembling the hue of the darkest night.  The sultan was delighted with the animal, and spent whole days in admiring him.  At length he bethought himself of the sharper who had pretended to be a genealogist of horses, and commanded him to his presence.  When he appeared, the sultan said, “Art thou a judge of horses?” He replied, “Yes, my lord,” upon which the sultan exclaimed, “It is well! but I swear by him who appointed me guardian of his subjects, and said to the universe, Be! and it was, that should I find untruth in thy declaration, I will strike off thy head.”  The man replied, “To hear is to submit.”  After this they brought out the colt, that he might examine him.

The sharper desired the groom to mount the colt and pace him before him, which he did backwards and forwards, the fiery animal all the while plunging and rearing.  At length the genealogist said, “It is enough:”  and turning to the sultan exclaimed, “My lord, this colt is singularly beautiful, of true blood by his sire, his paces exquisite and proportions just; but in him there is one blemish; could that be done away, he would be all perfection; nor would there be upon the face of the earth his equal among all the various breeds of horses.”  “What can that blemish be?” said the sultan.  “His sire,” rejoined the genealogist, “was of true blood, but his dam of another species of animal; and, if commanded, I will inform you.”  “Speak,” said the sultan.  “The dam of this beautiful colt,” continued the genealogist, “was a buffalo.”

When the sultan heard this he flew into a rage, and commanded an executioner to strike off the head of the sharper; exclaiming, “Thou accursed dog! how could a buffalo bring forth a colt?” “My lord,” replied the sharper, “the executioner is in attendance; but send for the person who presented the colt, and inquire of him the truth.  If my words prove just, my skill will be ascertained; but if what I have said be false, then let my head pay the forfeit for my tongue.”  Upon this the sultan sent for the master of the colt to attend his presence.

When the master of the colt appeared before him, the sultan inquired whether it was purchased of another person, or had been bred by himself?  To which the man replied, “My lord, I will relate nothing but the truth.  The production of this colt is surprising.  His sire belonged to me, and was of the true breed of sea-horses:  he was always kept in an enclosure by himself, as I was fearful of his being injured; but it happened one day in the spring, that the groom took him for air into the country, and picqueted him in the plain.  By chance a cow-buffalo coming near the spot, the stallion became outrageous, broke his heel-ropes, joined the buffalo, which after the usual period of gestation, produced this colt, to our great astonishment.”

The sultan was surprised at this relation.  He commanded the genealogist to be sent for, and upon his arrival said, “Thy words have proved true, and thy wonderful skill in the breed of horses is ascertained; but by what mark couldst thou know that the dam of this colt was a buffalo?” The man replied, “My lord, the mark is visible in the colt itself.  It is not unknown to any person of observation, that the hoof of a horse is nearly round, but the hoof of a buffalo thick and longish, like this colt’s:  hence I judged that the dam must certainly have been a buffalo.”  The sultan now dismissed him graciously, and commanded that he should be allowed daily a mess of pottage, and two cakes of bread.

Not long after this the sultan bethought himself of the third sharper, who pretended that he was the genealogist of man, and sent for him to the presence.  On his appearance he said, “Thou canst trace the descent of man?” “Yes, my lord,” replied the genealogist.  Upon this the sultan commanded an eunuch to take him into his haram, that he might examine the descent of his favourite mistress.  Upon his introduction, he looked at the lady on this side and on that, through her veil, till he was satisfied, when he came out; and the sultan exclaimed, “Well, what hast thou discovered in my mistress?” He replied, “My lord, she is all perfect in elegance, beauty, grace, stature, bloom, modesty, accomplishments, and knowledge, so that every thing desirable centres in herself; but still there is one point that disgraces her, from which if she was free, it is not possible she could be excelled in anything among the whole of the fair sex.”  When the sultan had heard this, he rose up angrily, and drawing his cimeter, ran towards the genealogist, intending to strike off his head.

Just as he was going to strike, some of the attendants said, “My lord, put not the man to death before thou art convinced of his falsehood.”  Upon which the sultan exclaimed, “What fault appeared to thee in my mistress?” “O sultan,” replied the man, “she is, as to herself, all perfect; but her mother was a rope-dancer.”  Upon this the sultan immediately sent for the father of the lady, and said, “Inform me truly who was the mother of thy daughter, or I will put thee to death.”  “Mighty prince,” replied the father, “there is no safety for man but in the truth.  Her mother was a rope-dancer, whom I took when very young from a company of strolling mummers, and educated.  She grew up most beautiful and accomplished:  I married her, and she produced me the girl whom thou hast chosen.”

When the sultan heard this, his rage cooled, but he was filled with astonishment; and said to the genealogist, “Inform me what could shew thee that my mistress was the daughter of a rope-dancer?” “My lord,” replied the man, “this cast of people have always their eyes very black, and their eyebrows bushy; such are hers:  and from them I guessed her descent.”  The sultan was now convinced of his skill, dismissed him graciously, and commanded that he should be allowed a mess of pottage and three cakes of bread daily, which was done accordingly.

Some time after this the sultan reflected on the three sharpers, and said to himself, “These men have proved their skill in whatever I have tried them.  The lapidary was singularly excellent in his art, the horse genealogist in his, and the last has proved his upon my mistress.  I have an inclination to know my own descent beyond a doubt.”  He then ordered the genealogist into his presence, and said, “Dost thou think thou canst prove my descent?” “Yes, my lord,” replied the man, “but on condition that you spare my life after I shall have informed you; for the proverb says, ’When the sultan is present, beware of his anger, as there is no delay when he commands to strike.’” “There shall be safety for thee,” exclaimed the sultan, “in my promise, an obligation that can never be forfeited.”

“O sultan,” continued the genealogist, “when I shall inform thee of thy parentage and descent, let not there be any present who may hear me.”  “Wherefore?” replied the sultan.  “My lord,” answered the sharper, “you know the attributes of the Deity should be veiled in mystery.”  The sultan now commanded all his attendants to retire, and when they were alone, the genealogist advanced and said, “Mighty prince, thou art illegitimate, and the son of an adulteress.”

As soon as the sultan heard this, his colour changed, he turned pale, and fainted away.  When he was recovered, he remained some time in deep contemplation, after which he exclaimed, “By him who constituted me the guardian of his people, I swear that if thy assertion be found true I will abdicate my kingdom, and resign it to thee, for royalty cannot longer become me; but should thy words prove void of foundation, I will put thee to instant death.”  “To hear is to assent,” replied the sharper.

The sultan now arose, entered the haram, and bursting into his mother’s apartment with his cimeter drawn, exclaimed, “By him who divided the heavens from the earth, shouldst thou not answer faithfully to what I shall inquire, I will cut thee to pieces with this cimeter.”  The queen, trembling with alarm, said, “What dost thou ask of me?” “Inform me,” replied the sultan, “of whom am I the son?” “Since truth only can save me,” cried the princess, “know that thou art the offspring of a cook.  My husband had no children either male or female, on which account he became sad, and lost his health and appetite.  In a court of the haram we had several sorts of birds, and one day the sultan fancying he should relish one of them, ordered the cook to kill and dress it.  I happened then to be in the bath alone.

“As I was in the bath,” continued the sultana, “I saw the cook endeavouring to catch the birds.  At that instant it occurred to my mind from the instigation of Satan, that if I bore not a son, after the death of the sultan my influence would be lost.  I tempted the man, and thou art the produce of my crime.  The signs of my pregnancy soon appeared; and when the sultan was informed of them, he recovered his health, and rejoiced exceedingly, and conferred favours and presents on his ministers and courtiers daily, till the time of my delivery.  On that day he chanced to be upon a hunting excursion at a country palace; but when intelligence was brought him of the birth of a son, he instantly returned to me, and issued orders for the city to be decorated, which was done for forty days together, out of respect to the sultan.  Such was my crime, and such was thy birth.”

The sultan now returned to the adventurer, and commanded him to pull off his clothes, which he did; when the sultan, disrobing himself, habited him in the royal vestments, after which he said, “Inform me whence thou judgest that I was a bastard?”

“My lord,” replied the adventurer, “when each of us shewed our skill in what was demanded, you ordered him only an allowance of a mess of pottage and three cakes of bread.  Hence I judged you to be the offspring of a cook, for it is the custom of princes to reward the deserving with wealth and honours, but you only gratified us with victuals from your kitchen.”  The sultan replied, “Thou hast spoken truly.”  He then made him put on the rest of the royal robes and ornaments, and seated him upon the throne; after which he disguised himself in the habit of a dervish, and wandered from his abdicated dominions.  When the lucky adventurer found himself in possession of the throne, he sent for his companions; and finding they did not recognize him in his royal habiliments, dismissed them with liberal presents, but commanded them to quit his territories with the utmost expedition, lest they should discover him.  After this, with a satisfied mind, he fulfilled the duties of his new station with a liberality and dignity that made the inhabitants of the metropolis and all the provinces bless him, and pray for the prolongation of his reign.

The Adventures of the Abdicated Sultan.

The abdicated prince, disguised as a dervish, did not cease travelling in a solitary mood till he came to the city of Cairo, which he perceived to be in repose and security, and well regulated.  Here he amused himself with walking through several streets, till he had reached the royal palace, and was admiring its magnificent architecture and extent, and the crowds passing in and out, when the sultan with his train appeared in sight returning from a hunting excursion, upon which he retired to one side of the road.  The sultan observing his dignified demeanour, commanded one of his attendants to invite him to the palace, and entertain him till he should inquire after him.

When the sultan had reposed himself from the fatigue of his exercise, he sent for the supposed dervish to his presence, and said, “From what kingdom art thou arrived?” He answered, “I am, my lord, a wandering dervish.”  “Well,” replied the sultan, “but inform me on what account thou art come here.”  On which he said, “My lord, this cannot be done but in privacy.”  “Let it be so,” rejoined the sultan; and rising up, led him into a retired apartment of the palace.  The supposed dervish then related what had befallen him, the cause of his having abdicated his kingdom, and taken upon himself the character of a religious.  The sultan was astonished at his self-denial, and exclaimed, “Blessed be his holy name, who exalteth and humbleth whom he will by his almighty power; but my history is more surprising than thine.  I will relate it to thee, and conceal nothing.”

History of Mahummud, Sultan of Cairo.

At my first outset in the world I was an indigent man, and possessed none of the conveniences of life, till at length I became possessed of ten pieces of silver, which I resolved to expend in amusing myself.  With this intention, I one day walked into the principal market, intending first to purchase somewhat delicate to feast upon.  While I was looking about me, a man passed by, with a great crowd following and laughing at him, for he led in an iron chain a monstrous baboon, which he cried for sale at the price of ten pieces of silver.  Something instinctively impelled me to purchase the creature, so I paid him the money, and took my bargain to my lodging; but on my arrival, was at a loss how to procure a meal for myself or the baboon.  While I was considering what I should do, the baboon having made several springs, became suddenly transformed into a handsome young man, beautiful as the moon at the fourteenth night of its appearance, and addressed me, saying, “Shekh Mahummud, thou hast purchased me for ten pieces of silver, being all thou hadst, and art now thinking how thou canst procure food for me and thyself.”  “That is true,” replied I; “but in the name of Allah, from whence dost thou come?” “Ask no questions,” replied my companion, “but take this piece of gold, and purchase us somewhat to eat and drink.”  I took the gold, did as he had desired, and we spent the evening merrily together in feasting and conversation, till it was time to repose.

In the morning the young man said, “My friend, this lodging is not fitting for us; go, and hire a better.”  “To hear is to obey,” replied I, and departed to the principal serai, where I hired an upper apartment, to which we removed.  He then gave me ten deenars, with orders to purchase carpets and cushions, which I did, and on my return found before him a package, containing princely vestments.  These he gave to me, desiring that I would go to the bath, and, after bathing, put them on.  I obeyed his commands, dressed myself, and found in each pocket a hundred deenars.  I was not a little proud of my improved appearance in the rich robes.  On my return, he praised my figure, and seated me by him, when we refreshed ourselves, and chatted on various subjects.  At length he gave me a bundle, desiring that I would present it to the sultan, and at the same time demand his daughter in marriage for myself, assuring me that my request would meet a ready compliance.

The young man commanded a slave he had bought to attend me, who carried the bundle, and I set out for the palace; near which I found a great crowd of grandees, officers, and guards, who seeing me so richly habited, inquired respectfully what I wanted.  Upon my replying that my business was with the sultan, they informed the ushers, who introduced me to the presence.  I made the customary obeisance, and the sultan returned my salute; after which I presented the bundle before him, saying, “Will my lord accept this trifle, becoming my humble situation to offer, but certainly not worthy the royal dignity to receive?” The sultan commanded the package to be opened; when, lo! it contained a complete dress of royal apparel, richer than had ever been before seen, at which the sultan was astonished, and exclaimed, “Heavens!  I have nothing like this, nor ever possessed so magnificent a suit; it shall be accepted:  but inform me, Shekh, what thou requirest in return for so valuable an offering.”  “Mighty sovereign,” replied I, “my wish is to become thy relation by espousing that precious gem of the casket of beauty, thy incomparable daughter.”

When the sultan had heard this request, he turned towards his vizier and said, “Advise me how I should act in this affair.”  Upon which the minister replied, “Shew him, my lord, your most valuable diamond, and inquire if he has any one equally precious to match it as a marriage present for your daughter.”  The sultan did so; when I said, “If I present two, will you give me your daughter?” To which he assented, and I took my leave, carrying with me the diamond, to shew the young man as a model.  Upon my arrival at our serai, I informed him of what passed, when he examined the diamond, and said, “The day is now far spent, but tomorrow I will procure ten like it, which thou shalt present to the sultan.”  Accordingly in the morning he walked out, and in the space of an hour returned with ten diamonds, which he gave me, and I hastened with them to the sultan.  When he beheld the precious stones he was enraptured at their brilliancy, and again consulted his vizier how he should act in this business.  “My lord,” replied the minister, “you only required one diamond of the Shekh, and he has presented you with ten:  it is therefore incumbent upon you to give him your daughter.”

The sultan now sent for the cauzees and effendis, who drew up the deed of espousals, which they gave me, when I returned to our serai, and shewed it to the young man, who said, “It is well; go and complete thy marriage; but I entreat that thou wilt not consummate thy nuptials till I shall give thee permission.”  “To hear is to obey,” replied I. When it was night I entered the princess’s apartment, but sat down at a distance from her, and did not speak till morning, when I bade her farewell, and took my leave for the day.  I observed the same conduct the second night and the third, upon which, offended at my coldness, she complained to her mother, who informed the sultan of my affronting behaviour.

The sultan sent for me to his presence, and with much anger threatened, if I should continue my coldness to the princess another evening, that he would put me to death.  Upon this I hastened to inform my friend at the serai, who commanded, that when I should next be alone with my wife I should demand of her a bracelet which she wore upon her right arm, and bring it to him, after which I might consummate my nuptials.  I replied, “To hear is to obey;” and the next evening, when I entered the apartment, said to my wife, “If thou desirest that we should live happily together, give me the bracelet on thy right arm.”  She did so immediately, when I carried it to the young man, and, returning to the palace, slept, as I supposed, with the princess till morning.  Guess, however, what was my surprise, when on awaking I found myself lying in my first humble lodging, stripped of my rich vestments, and saw on the ground my former mean attire; namely, an old vest, a pair of tattered drawers, and a ragged turban, as full of holes as a sieve.  When I had somewhat recovered my senses, I put them on and walked out in a melancholy mood, regretting my lost happiness, and not knowing what I should do to recover it.  As I strolled towards the palace, I beheld sitting in the street a fortune-teller, who had some written papers before him, and was casting omens for the bystanders.  I advanced, and made him a salute, which he returned kindly; and after looking attentively in my face, exclaimed, “What! has that accursed wretch betrayed thee, and torn thee from thy wife?” I replied, “Yes.”  Upon this he desired me to wait a little, and seated me by him.  When his employers were departed, he said, “My friend, the ape which you purchased for ten pieces of silver, and who soon after was transformed into a young man, is not of human race, but a genie deeply in love with the princess whom you married.  However, he could not approach her while she wore the bracelet, containing a powerful charm, upon her right arm, and therefore made use of thee to obtain it.  He is now with her, but I will soon effect his destruction, that genii and men may be secure from his wickedness, for he is one of the rebellious and accursed spirits who disobeyed our lord Solomon, son of David.”

After this, the fortune-teller wrote a note, which having sealed and directed, he gave it to me, saying, “Go to a certain spot, wait there, and observe those who may approach.  Fortify thy mind, and when thou shall see a great personage attended by a numerous train, present to him this letter, when he will accomplish thy desires.”  I took the note, immediately departed for the place to which the fortune-teller had directed me, and after travelling all night and half the next day reached it, and sat down to wait for what might happen.  The evening shut in, and about a fourth part of the night had passed, when a great glare of lights appeared advancing towards me from a distance; and as it shone nearer, I perceived persons carrying flambeaux and lanterns, also a numerous train of attendants, as if belonging to some mighty sultan.  My mind was alarmed, but I recovered myself, and resolved to stay where I was.  A great concourse passed by me, marching two and two, and at length there appeared a sultan of the genii, surrounded by a splendid attendance; upon which I advanced as boldly as I could, and having prostrated myself, presented the letter, which he opened, and read aloud, as follows:

“Be it known unto thee, O sultan of the genii, that the bearer of this is in distress, from which thou must relieve him by destroying his enemy.  Shouldst thou not assist him, beware of thy own safety.  Farewell.”

When the sultan of the genii had read the note, he called out to one of his messengers, who immediately attended before him, and commanded him to bring into his presence without delay the genie who had enchanted the daughter of the sultan of Cairo.  “To hear is to obey,” replied the messenger, and instantly disappearing, was absent for about an hour, when he returned with the criminal, and placed him before the sultan of the genii, who exclaimed, “Accursed wretch, hast thou ill-treated this man?”

“Mighty sovereign,” replied the genie, “my crime proceeded from love of the princess, who wore a charm in her bracelet which prevented my approaching her, and therefore I made use of this man.  He procured me the charm, and I now have her in my power; but I love her tenderly, and have not injured her.”  “Return the bracelet instantly,” replied the sultan of the genii, “that the man may recover his wife, or I will command an executioner to strike off thy head.”  The offending genie, who was of an accursed and obstinate race, upon hearing these words was inflamed with passion, and insolently cried out, “I will not return the bracelet, for no one shall possess the princess but myself.”  Having said thus, he attempted to fly away, but in vain.

The sultan of the genii now commanded his attendants to bind the criminal in chains, which they did, and having forced the bracelet from him, struck off his head.  The sultan then presented me the charm, which was no sooner in my hand than all the genii vanished from my sight, and I found myself dressed as before, in the rich habit given me by the pretended young man.  I proceeded to the city, which I entered, and when I came near the palace was recognized by the guards and courtiers, who cried out in raptures of joy, “Our lost prince is at length returned.”  They paid their respects, and I entered the apartment of the princess, whom I found in a deep sleep, in which state she had been ever since my departure.  On my replacing the bracelet on her arm, she awoke.  After this we lived together in all happiness till the death of her father, who appointed me his successor, having no son, so that I am what I am.

When the sultan of Cairo had finished his narrative, the abdicated prince expressed his surprise at his adventures:  upon which the sultan said, “Wonder not, my brother, at the dispensations of the Almighty, for he worketh in secret, and when he pleaseth revealeth his mysteries.  Since thou hast quitted thy kingdom, if thou choosest, thou shalt be my vizier, and we will live together as friends and brothers.”  “To hear is to obey,” replied the prince.  The sultan then constituted him vizier, enrobed him in a rich uniform, and committed to him his seal, the inkstand, and other insignia of office, at the same time conferring upon him a magnificent palace, superbly furnished with gorgeous carpets, musnuds, and cushions:  belonging to it were also extensive gardens.  The vizier entered immediately upon his new office; held his divans regularly twice every day, and judged so equitably on all appeals brought before him, that his fame for justice and impartiality was soon spread abroad; insomuch, that whoever had a cause or dispute willingly referred it to his decision, and was satisfied with it, praying for his life and prosperity.  In this state he remained for many years, the sovereign pleased with him, and he happy under the protection of the sultan of Cairo, so that he did not regret his abdicated kingdom.

It happened one evening that the mind of the sultan was depressed, upon which he sent for the vizier, who attended; when he said, “Vizier, my mind is so uneasy that nothing will amuse me.”  “Enter then,” replied the minister, “into thy cabinet, and look at thy jewels, the examination of which may perhaps entertain thee.”  The sultan did so, but it had no effect on his lassitude; when he said, “Vizier, this dispiritedness will not quit me, and nothing gives me pleasure within my palace; let us, therefore, walk out in disguise.”  “To hear is to obey,” replied the vizier.  They then retired into a private chamber, and putting on the habits of dervishes of Arabia, strolled through the city till they reached a hospital for lunatics, which they entered.  Here they beheld two men, one reading and the other listening to him; when the sultan said to himself, “This is surprising;” and addressed the men, saying, “Are you really mad?” They replied, “We are not mad, but our stories are so wonderful, that were they recorded on a tablet of adamant, they would remain for examples to them who would be advised.”  “Let us hear them,” said the sultan; upon which, the man who had been reading exclaimed, “Hear mine first!” and thus began.

Story of the First Lunatic.

I was a merchant, and had a warehouse in which were Indian goods of all sorts, and of the highest value, and I bought and sold to great advantage.  One day as I was sitting in my warehouse, according to custom, busy in buying and selling, an old woman came in, telling her beads, and greeted me.  I returned her salute, when she sat down, and said, “Sir, have you any choice Indian cloths?” “Yes, my mistress,” replied I, “of all sorts that you can possibly wish for.”  “Bring them,” said she.  I showed her a piece of great value, with which she was highly pleased, and inquired the price.  “Five hundred deenars,” replied I:  she took out her purse, paid me the money, and went away with the cloth; upon which I had a profit of one hundred and fifty deenars.  She returned the next day, bought another piece, paid for it, and, in short, did the same for fifteen days successively, paying me regularly for each purchase.  On the sixteenth day she came to my shop as usual, chose the cloth and was going to pay me, but missed her purse; upon which she said, “Sir, I have unfortunately left my purse at home.”  “Mistress,” replied I, “it is of no consequence; take the cloth, and if you return, well, if not, you are welcome to this trifle:”  she would not take it:  I pressed her, but in vain.  Much friendly argument passed between us, till at length she said, “Sir, you contradict, and I contradict, but we shall never agree unless you will favour me by accompanying me to my house to receive the value of your goods; so lock up your warehouse, lest any thing should be lost in your absence.”  Accordingly I fastened my doors, and accompanied her; we walked on conversing, till we came near her house, when she pulled out a handkerchief from her girdle, and said, “My desire is to tie this over thy eyes.”  “On what account?” replied I.  “Because,” said she, “in our way are several houses, the gates of which are open, and the women sitting in their balconies, so that possibly thy eyes may glance upon some one of them, and thy heart be distracted with love; for in this part are many beautiful damsels, who would fascinate even a religious, and therefore I am alarmed for thy peace.”

Upon this I said to myself, “This old woman advises me properly,” and I consented to her demand; when she bound the handkerchief over my eyes, and we proceeded till we arrived at her house.  She knocked at the door, which was opened by a damsel, and we entered.  The old lady then took the handkerchief from my eyes, when I looked around me, and perceived that I was in a mansion having several quadrangles, highly ornamented, and resembling the palaces of the sultan.

The old lady now desired me to retire into a room, which I did, and there beheld heaped together all the pieces of cloth which she had purchased of me, at which I was surprised, but still more so when two damsels beautiful as resplendent moons approached, and having divided a piece of cloth into halves, each took one, and wrapped it round her hand.  They then sprinkled the floor with rose water and other scents, wiping it with the cloth, and rubbing it till it became bright as silver; after which they withdrew into an adjoining room, and brought out at least fifty stools, which they set down, and placed over each a rich covering, with cushions of tissue.  They then fetched a large stool of gold, and having put upon it a carpet and cushions of gold brocade, retired.  Not long after this, there descended from the staircase by two and two, as many damsels in number as the stools; upon each of which one sat down.  At last descended a lady attended by ten damsels, who placed herself upon the larger stool.  When I beheld her, my lord, my senses forsook me, and I was in raptures at her beauty, her stature, and elegance, as she chatted and laughed with her companions.

At length she exclaimed, “My dear mother!” when the old woman entered; to whom she said, “Hast thou brought the young man?” She replied, “Yes, my daughter, he is ready to attend thee.”  Upon which the lady said, “Introduce him to me.”  When I heard this I was alarmed, and said to myself, “There is no refuge but in the most high God; doubtless she has discovered my being here, and will command me to be put to death.”  The old woman came to me, and leading me by the hand, took me before the lady seated on the golden stool, who, on seeing me, smiled, made a graceful salute, and waved her hand for a seat to be brought, which was done, and placed close to her own.  She then commanded me to sit down, which I did with much confusion.

When I was seated, the lady began to chat and joke with me, saying, “What think you of my appearance and my beauty, do you judge me worthy of your affection? shall I be your partner and you mine?” When I had heard these words, I replied, “How, dear lady, dare I presume, who am not worthy to be your servant, to arrive at such an honour?” Upon this, she said, “Young man, my words have no evasion in them; be not discouraged, or fearful of returning me an answer, for my heart is devoted to thy love.”  I now perceived, my lord, that the lady was anxious to marry me; but could not conceive on what account, or who could have given her intelligence concerning me.  She continued to shew me so many pleasing attentions, that at length I was emboldened to say, “Lady, if your words to me are sincere, according to the proverb, no time is so favourable as the present.”  “There cannot,” said she, “be a more fortunate day than this for our union.”  Upon this I replied, “My dear lady, how can I allot for you a proper dowry?” “The value of the cloth you intrusted to the old lady, who is my mother,” answered she, “is sufficient.”  “That cannot be enough,” rejoined I.  “Nothing more shall be added,” exclaimed the lady; “and my intention is this instant to send for the cauzee and witnesses, and I will choose a trustee, that they may unite us without delay.  We will celebrate our nuptials this very evening, but upon one condition.”  “What is that?” replied I. She answered, “That you bind yourself not to address or hold conversation with any woman but myself.”  My lord, I was eager to be in possession of so beautiful a woman, and therefore said to her, “I agree, and will never contradict thee either by my words or actions.”  She then sent for the cauzee and witnesses, and appointed a trustee, after which we were married.  After the ceremony, she ordered coffee and sherbet, gave money to the cauzee, a dress of honour to her trustee, and they departed.

I was lost in astonishment, and said to myself, “Do I dream, or am I awake?” She now commanded her damsels to empty the warm bath, fill it afresh, and prepare cloths and necessaries for bathing.  When they had done as she desired, she ordered the eunuchs in waiting to conduct me to the hummaum, and gave them a rich dress.  They led me into an elegant apartment, difficult for speech to describe.  They spread many-coloured carpets, upon which I sat down and undressed; after which I entered the hummaum, and perceived delightful odours from sandal wood, of comorin, and other sweets diffusing from every part.  Here they seated me, covered me with perfumed soaps, and rubbed me till my body became bright as silver; when they brought the basins, and I washed with warm water, after which they gave me rose-water, and I poured it over me.  They next brought in sweet-smelling salves, which I rubbed over me, and then repaired to the hummaum, where I found a royal dress, in which the eunuchs arrayed me; and after perfuming me with incense of sandal wood, brought in confections, coffee, and sherberts of various sorts, with which I refreshed myself.  I then left the bath with my attendants, who shewed me into the grand hall of the palace, which was spread with most magnificent carpets, stools, and cushions.  Here the lady met me, attired in a new habit, more sumptuous than I had seen her in before.

When I beheld my bride, she appeared to me, from the richness of her ornaments, like a concealed treasure from which the talisman had just been removed.  She sat down by me, and smiled so fascinatingly upon me, I could no longer contain my rapture.  In a short time she retired, but soon returned again in a dress richer than her last.  I again embraced her, and in short, my lord, we remained together for ten days in the height of happiness and enjoyment.  At the end of this period I recollected my mother, and said to my wife, “It is so long since I have been absent from home, and since my mother has not seen me, that I am certain she must be anxious concerning me.  Will you permit me to visit her and look after my warehouse?” “There can be no impediment,” replied she; “you may visit your mother daily, and employ yourself in your warehouse, but the old woman must conduct you and bring you back;” to which I assented.

The old lady then came in, tied a handkerchief over my eyes, conducted me to the spot where she had first blindfolded me, and said, “You will return here about the time of evening prayer, and will find me waiting.”  I left her, and repaired to my mother, whom I found in great affliction at my absence, and weeping bitterly.  Upon seeing me, she ran and embraced me with tears of joy.  I said, “Weep not, my dear mother, for my absence has been owing to the highest good fortune.”  I then informed her of my lucky adventure, when she exclaimed, “May Allah protect thee, my son, but visit me at least every two days, that my affection for thee may be gratified.”  I then went to my warehouse, and employed myself as usual till evening, when I returned to the place appointed, where I found the old lady, who blindfolded me as before, and conducted me to the palace of my wife, who received me with fondness.  For three months I continued to go and come in this manner, but I could not help wishing to know whom I had married, and wondering at the affluence, splendour, and attendance that appeared around her.

At length I found an opportunity of being in private with one of her black slaves, and questioned her concerning her mistress.  “My lord,” replied she, “the history of my mistress is wonderful; but I dare not relate it, lest she should put me to death.”  Upon this, I assured her, that if she would inform me, no one should know it but myself, and I took an oath of secrecy, when she began as follows:

“My mistress one day went to a public bath, intending to amuse herself, for which purpose she made such preparations of delicacies and rarities, as were worth a camel’s load of treasure, and when she left the hummaum, made an excursion to a garden, where a splendid collation was laid out.  Here she continued enjoying herself till evening, when she ordered her retinue to make ready for departure, and the fragments of the entertainment to be distributed among the poor.  On her return, she passed through the street in which is your warehouse.  It was upon a Friday, when you were sitting in conversation with a friend, arrayed in your best attire.  She beheld you, her heart was stricken with love, but no one perceived her emotion.  However, she had no sooner reached her palace than she became low and melancholy, and her appetite failed her.  At length she took to her bed, her colour left her, sleep forsook her, and she became very weak.  Upon this her mother went to call in a physician, that he might consider what might be the cause of her daughter’s indisposition; but on the way she met a skilful old lady, with whom she returned home.

“The old lady on feeling the pulse of her patient, and after asking several questions, could perceive in her no bodily ailment or pain; upon which she judged she was in love, but did not venture to speak to her before her mother of her suspicions.  She took leave, and said, ’By God’s blessing thou wilt soon recover; I will return tomorrow, and bring with me an infallible medicine.’  She then took her mother aside, and said, ’My good lady, be not angry at what I shall remark, but thy daughter has no bodily disorder; she is in love, and there can be no cure for her but by a union with her beloved.’  The mother, on the departure of the old lady, repaired to her daughter, and with much difficulty, after twenty days of denial (for my mistress’s modesty was hurt), obtained from her a description of your person, and the street in which you lived; upon which she behaved to you in the manner you are well acquainted with, brought you here, and you know what followed.  Such is her history,” concluded the black slave, “which you must not reveal.”  “I will not,” replied I; and after this I continued to live very happily with my wife, going daily to see my mother, to attend in my warehouse, and return in the evening, conducted as usual by the old lady my mother-in-law.

One day, after the expiration of some months, as I was sitting in my warehouse, a damsel came into the street with the image of a cock, composed of jewelry.  It was set with pearls, diamonds, and other precious stones, and she offered it to the merchants for sale; when they began bidding for it at five hundred deenars, and went to nine hundred and fifty; all which I observed in silence and did not interfere by speaking or bidding.  At length the damsel came up to me, and said, “My lord, all the merchants have increased in bidding for my precious toy, but you have neither bidden, nor taken any notice of me.”  “I have no occasion for it,” replied I.  “Nay,” exclaimed she, “but you must bid something more.”  “Since I must,” I answered, “I will give fifty deenars more, which will be just a thousand.”  She accepted the price, and I went into my warehouse to fetch the money to pay her, saying to myself, “I will present this curiosity to my wife, as it may please her.”  When I was going to pay the money, the damsel would not take it, but said, “My lord, I have a request to make, which is, that I may snatch one kiss from your cheek as the price of my jewelry, for I want nothing else.”  Upon this, I thought to myself, a single kiss of my cheek is an easy price for the value of a thousand deenars, and consented; when she came up to me and gave me a kiss, but at the same time a most severe bite; left the piece of jewelry, and went away with the greatest haste.

In the evening I repaired to the house of my wife, and found the old lady waiting as usual at the accustomed spot.  She tied the handkerchief over my eyes, and when she had conducted me home, took it off.  I found my wife sitting upon her golden stool, but dressed in scarlet, and with an angry countenance; upon which I said to myself, “God grant all may be well.”  I approached her, took out the toy set with diamonds and rubies (thinking that on sight of it her ill-humour would vanish), and said, “My mistress, accept this, for it is curious, and I purchased it for thee.”  She took it into her hand, and examined it on all sides; after which she exclaimed, “Didst thou really purchase this on my account?” “By heavens,” replied I, “I bought it for thy sake, for a thousand deenars.”  Upon this she frowned angrily upon me, and exclaimed, “What means that wound upon thy cheek?” I was overwhelmed with confusion.

While I was in this state, she called out to her attendants, who immediately descended the staircase, carrying the headless corpse of a young girl, the head placed upon the middle of the body.  I looked, and knew it to be the head of the damsel who had sold me the piece of jewelry for a kiss, and had bitten my cheek.  My wife now exclaimed, “I had no occasion for such baubles, for I have many of them; but I wished to know if thou wert so faithful to thy agreement with me, as not to address another woman than myself, and sent the girl to try thee.  Since thy promise has been broken, begone, and return no more.”

When my wife had finished her speech, the old woman took me by the hand, tied the handkerchief over my eyes, and conducted me to the usual spot, when she said, “Begone!” and disappeared.  I was so overcome by the sad adventure, and the loss of my wife, that I ran through the streets like one frantic, crying, “Ah, what beauty, what grace, what elegance did she possess!” upon which, the people, supposing me distracted, conducted me to this hospital, and bound me in fetters, as you see.

When the sultan had heard the young man’s story, he was much affected, inclined his head for some instants in deep thought, then said to his vizier, “By Allah, who has intrusted me with sovereignty, if thou dost not discover the lady who married this young man, thy head shall be forfeited.”  The vizier was alarmed, but recovering himself, replied, “Allow me three days to search,” to which the sultan consented.  The vizier then took with him the young man, and for two days was at a loss how to find out the house.  At length he inquired if he should know the spot where the handkerchief was tied over his eyes, and the gateway at which it was taken off, of both which the youth professed to be certain.  He conducted the minister to the street where he was blindfolded, and they reached a gateway, at which the vizier knocked.  It was opened by the domestics, who knowing the vizier, and seeing the young man with him, were alarmed, and ran to communicate the quality of the visitants to their mistress.  She desired to know the commands of the vizier, who informed her, that it was the sultan’s pleasure she should be reconciled to her husband; to which she replied, “Since the sultan hath commanded, my duty is obedience.”  The young man was reunited to his wife, who was the daughter of a former sultan of Cairo.

Such were the adventures of the young man who was reading in the hospital.  We now recite those of the youth who was listening to him.  Upon the sultan’s inquiring his story, he began as follows.

Story of the Second Lunatic.

My lord, I was by profession a merchant, and on my commencing business the youngest of my trade, having but just entered my sixteenth year.  As I was one day busy in my warehouse, a damsel entering, put into my hands a packet, which, on opening, I found to contain several copies of verses in praise of myself, with a letter expressive of ardent affection for my person.  Supposing them meant only as banter, I foolishly flew into a passion, seized the bearer, and beat her severely.  On her departure, I reflected on my improper behaviour, dreaded lest she should complain to her relations, and that they might revenge themselves upon me by some sudden assault.  I repented of what I had done, but alas! it was when repentance would not avail.

Ten days had passed, when, as I was sitting in my warehouse as usual, a young lady entered most superbly dressed, and odoriferously perfumed.  She resembled in brightness the moon on its fourteenth night, so that when I gazed upon her my senses forsook me, and I was incapable of attention to any thing but herself.  She addressed me, saying, “Young man, have you in your warehouse any female ornaments?” to which I replied, “Of all sorts, my lady, that you can possibly require.”  Upon this she desired to see some bracelets for the ankles, which I shewed her, when holding out her foot, she desired me to try them on.  I did so.  After this, she asked for a necklace, and opening her veil, made me tie it on.  She then chose a pair of bracelets, and extending her hands, desired me to put them on her wrists, which I did; after which, she inquired the amount of the whole, when I exclaimed, “Fair lady, accept them as a present, and inform me whose daughter thou art.”  She replied, “I am the daughter of the chief magistrate;” when I said, “My wish is to demand thee in marriage of thy father.”  She consented that I should, but observed, “When you ask me of my father, he will say, I have only one daughter, who is a cripple, and wretchedly deformed.  Do thou, however, reply, that thou art willing to accept her, and if he remonstrates, still insist upon wedding her.”  I then asked when I should make my proposals.  She replied, “The best time to visit my father is on the Eed al Koorbaun, which is three days hence, as thou wilt then find with him all his relations and friends, and our espousals will add to his festivity.”

Agreeably to the lady’s instructions, on the third day following I repaired with several of my friends to the house of the chief magistrate, and found him sitting in state, receiving the compliments of the day from the chief inhabitants of the city.  We made our obeisance, which he graciously noticed, received us with kindness, and entered familiarly into conversation.  A collation was brought in, the cloth spread, and we partook with him of the viands, after which we drank coffee.  I then stood up, saying, “My lord, I am desirous of espousing the chaste lady your daughter, more precious than the richest gem.”

When the chief magistrate heard my speech, he inclined his head for some time towards the earth in deep thought, after which he said, “Son, my daughter is an unfortunate cripple, miserably deformed.”  To this I replied, “To have her for my wife is all I wish.”  The magistrate then said, “If thou wilt have a wife of this description, it must be on condition that she shall not be taken from my house, that thou shalt consummate the marriage here, and abide with me.”  I replied, “To hear is to obey;” believing that she was the beautiful damsel who had visited my warehouse, and whose charms I had so rapturously beheld.  In short, the nuptial ceremony was performed, when I said to myself, “Heavens! is it possible that I am become master of this beautiful damsel, and shall possess her charms!”

When night set in, the domestics of the chief magistrate introduced me into the chamber of my bride.  I ran eagerly to gaze upon her beauty, but guess my mortification when I beheld her a wretched dwarf, a cripple, and deformed, as her father had represented.  I was overcome with horror at the sight of her, distracted with disappointment, and ashamed of my own foolish credulity, but I dared not complain, as I had voluntarily accepted her as my wife from the magistrate:  I sat down silently in one corner of the chamber, and she in another, for I could not bring myself to approach her, as she was disgusting to the sight of man, and my soul could not endure her company.

At day-break I left the house of my father-in-law, repaired to my warehouse, which I opened, and sat down much distressed in mind, with my head dizzy, like one suffering from intoxication, when lo! who should appear before me but the lady who had put upon me so mortifying a trick.  She entered, and paid me the customary salute.  I was enraged, and began to abuse her, saying, “Wherefore hast thou put upon me such a stratagem?” when she replied, “Wretch, recollect the day that I brought thee a packet, in return for which you seized, beat, reviled, and drove me scornfully away.  In retaliation for such treatment, I have taken revenge by giving thee such a delectable bride.”  I now fell at her feet, entreated her forgiveness, and expressed my repentance; upon which, smiling upon me, she said, “Be not uneasy, for as I have plunged thee into a dilemma, I will also relieve thee from it.  Go to the aga of the leather-dressers, give him a sum of money, and desire him to call thee his son; then repair with him, attended by his followers and musicians, to the house of the chief magistrate.  When he inquires the cause of their coming, let the aga say, ’My lord, we are come to congratulate thy son-in-law, who is my beloved child, on his marriage with thy daughter, and to rejoice with him.’  The magistrate will be furiously enraged, and exclaim, ’Dog, is it possible that, being a leather-dresser, thou durst marry the daughter of the chief magistrate?’ Do thou then reply, ’My lord, my ambition was to be ennobled by your alliance, and as I have married your lordship’s daughter, the mean appellation of leather-dresser will soon be forgotten and lost in the glorious title of the son-in-law of your lordship; I shall be promoted under your protection, and purified from the odour of the tan-pit, so that my offspring will smell as sweet as that of a syed.”

I did as the lady had directed me, and having bribed the chief of the leather-dressers, he accompanied me with the body of his trade, and a numerous party of musicians, vocal and instrumental, to my father-in-law’s house, before which they began to sing and dance with great clamour every now and then crying out, “Long live our noble kinsman!  Long live the son-in-law of the chief magistrate!” The magistrate inquired into the cause of our intrusive rejoicing, when I told him my kinsfolk were congratulating me upon my alliance with his illustrious house, and come to thank him for the honour he had done the whole body of leather-dressers in my person.  The chief magistrate on hearing this was passionately enraged, and abused me; but reflecting that without my consent the supposed disgrace of his noble house could not be done away, he became calm, and offered me money to divorce his daughter.  At first I pretended unwillingness, but at length affecting to be moved by his earnest entreaties, accepted forty purses of gold, which he gave me to repudiate my deformed wife, and I returned home with a lightened heart.  The day following, the lady came to my warehouse, when I thanked her for having freed me from my ridiculous marriage, and begged her to accept of me as a husband.  To this she consented, but said she was, she feared, too meanly born for me to marry, as her father was but a cook, though of eminence in his way, and very rich.  I replied, “Even though he were a leather-dresser, thy charms would grace a throne.”  In short, my lord, we were married, and have lived together very happily from the day of our union to the present time.

Such is my story, but it is not so surprising as that of the learned man and his pupil, whose adventures were among the miracles of the age, which I will relate.

Story of the retired Sage and his Pupil, related to the Sultan by the Second Lunatic,

There was a learned and devout sage, who in order to enjoy his studies and contemplations uninterrupted, had secluded himself from the world in one of the cells of the principal mosque of the city, which he never left but upon the most pressing occasions.  He had led this retired life some years, when a boy one day entered his cell, and earnestly begged to be received as his pupil and domestic.  The sage liked his appearance, consented to his request, inquired who were his parents, and whence he came; but the lad could not inform him, and said, “Ask not who I am, for I am an orphan, and know not whether I belong to heaven or earth.”  The shekh did not press him, and the boy served him with the most undeviating punctuality and attention for twelve years, during which he received his instructions in every branch of learning, and became a most accomplished youth.  At the end of the twelve years, the youth one day heard some young men praising the beauty of the sultan’s daughter, and saying that her charms were unequalled by those of all the princesses of the age.  This discourse excited his curiosity to behold so lovely a creature.  He repaired to his master, saying, “My lord, I understand that the sultan hath a most beautiful daughter, and my soul longs ardently for an opportunity of beholding her, if only for an instant.”  The sage exclaimed, “What have such as we to do, my son, with the daughters of sovereigns or of others?  We are a secluded order, and should refrain ourselves from associating with the great ones of this world.”  The old man continued to warn his pupil against the vanities of the age, and to divert him from his purpose; but the more he advised and remonstrated, the more intent the youth became on his object, which affected his mind so much, that he grew very uneasy, and was continually weeping.

The sage observing his distress was afflicted at it, and at length said to the youth, “Will one look at the princess satisfy thy wishes?” “It shall,” replied the pupil.  The sage then anointed one of his eyes with a sort of ointment; when lo! he became to appearance as a man divided into half, and the sage ordered him to go and hop about the city.  The youth obeyed his commands, but he had no sooner got into the street than he was surrounded by a crowd of passengers, who gazed with astonishment at his appearance.  The report of so strange a phenomenon as a half man soon spread throughout the city, and reached the palace of the sultan, who sent for the supposed monster to the presence.  The youth was conveyed to the palace, where the whole court gazed upon him with wonder; after which he was taken into the haram, to gratify the curiosity of the women.  He beheld the princess, and was fascinated by the brilliancy of her charms, insomuch, that he said to himself, “If I cannot wed her, I will put myself to death.”

The youth being at length dismissed from the palace, returned home; his heart tortured with love for the daughter of the sultan.  On his arrival, the sage inquired if he had seen the princess.  “I have,” replied the youth, “but one look is not enough, and I cannot rest until I shall sit beside her, and feast my eyes till they are wearied with gazing upon her.”  “Alas! my son,” exclaimed the old man, “I fear for thy safety:  we are religious men, and should avoid temptations; nor does it become us to have any thing to do with the sultan.”  To this the youth replied, “My lord, unless I shall sit beside her, and touch her neck with my hands, I shall, through despair, put myself to death.”

At these words, the sage was alarmed for the safety of his pupil, and said to himself, “I will, if possible, preserve this amiable youth, and perchance Allah may gratify his wishes.”  He then anointed both his eyes with an ointment, which had the effect of rendering him invisible to human sight.  After this, he said, “Go, my son, and gratify thy wishes, but return again, and be not too long absent from thy duty.”

The youth hastened towards the royal palace, which he entered unperceived, and proceeded into the haram, where he seated himself near the daughter of the sultan.  For some time he contented himself with gazing on her beauty, but at length extending his hands, touched her softly on the neck.  As soon as she felt his touch, the princess, alarmed, shrieked out violently, and exclaimed, “I seek refuge with Allah, from Satan the accursed.”  Her mother and the ladies present, affrighted at her outcries, eagerly inquired the cause; when she said, “Eblees, or some other evil spirit, hath this instant touched me on the neck.”

Upon this, the mother was alarmed and sent for her nurse, who, when informed of what had happened, declared, “That nothing was so specific to drive away evil spirits as the smoke of camel’s hair;” a quantity of which was instantly brought, and being set fire to, the smoke of it filled the whole apartment, and so affected the eyes of the young man, that they watered exceedingly, when he unthinkingly wiped them with his handkerchief, so that with his tears the ointment was soon washed off.

The ointment was no sooner wiped away from his eyes than the young man became visible, and the princess, her mother, and the ladies, all at once uttered a general cry of astonishment and alarm; upon which the eunuchs rushed into the apartment.  Seeing the youth, they surrounded him, beat him unmercifully, then bound him with cords, and dragged him before the sultan, whom they informed of his having been found in the royal haram.  The sultan, enraged, sent for an executioner, and commanded him to seize the culprit, to clothe him in a black habit patched over with flame colour, to mount him upon a camel, and after parading with him through the streets of the city, to put him to death.

The executioner took the young man, dressed him as he had been directed, placed him upon the camel, and led him through the city, preceded by guards and a crier, who bawled out, “Behold the merited punishment of him who has dared to violate the sanctuary of the royal haram.”  The procession was followed by an incalculable crowd of people, who were astonished at the beauty of the young man, and the little concern he seemed to feel at his own situation.

At length the procession arrived in the square before the great mosque, when the sage, disturbed by the noise and concourse of the people, looked from the window of his cell, and beheld the disgraceful situation of his pupil.  He was moved to pity, and instantly calling upon the genii (for by his knowledge of magic and every abstruse science he had them all under his control), commanded them to bring him the youth from the camel, and place in his room, without being perceived, some superannuated man.  They did so, and when the multitude saw the youth, as it were, transformed into a well-known venerable shekh, they were stricken with awe, and said, “Heavens! the young man turns out to be our reverend chief of the herb-sellers;” for the old man had long been accustomed to dispose of greens and sugarcane at the college gate near the great mosque, and was the oldest in his trade.

The executioner, on beholding the change of appearance in his prisoner, was confounded.  He returned to the palace with the old man upon the camel, and followed by the crowd.  He hastened or contrive my death to the sultan, and said, “My lord, the young man is vanished, and in his room became seated upon the camel this venerable shekh, well known to the whole city.”  On hearing this, the sultan was alarmed, and said to himself, “Whoever has been able to perform this, can do things much more surprising He may depose me from my kingdom.”

The sultan’s fears increased so much, that he was at a loss how to act.  He summoned his vizier, and said, “Advise me what to do in the affair of this strange youth, for I am utterly confounded.”  The vizier for some time inclined his head towards the ground in profound thought, then addressing the sultan, said, “My lord, no one could have done this but by the help of genii, or by a power which we cannot comprehend, and he may possibly, if irritated, do you in future a greater injury respecting your daughter.  I advise, therefore, that you cause it to be proclaimed throughout the city, that whoever has done this, if he will appear before you shall have pardon on the word of a sultan, which can never be broken.  Should he then surrender himself, espouse him to your daughter, when perhaps his mind may be reconciled by her love.  He has already beheld her, and seen the ladies of the haram, so that nothing can save your honour but his union with the princess.”

The sultan approved the advice of his vizier, the proclamation was issued, and the crier proceeded through several streets, till at length he reached the square of the great mosque.  The pupil hearing the proclamation, was enraptured, and running to his patron, declared his intention of surrendering himself to the sultan.  “My son,” said the sage, “why shouldst thou do so?  Hast thou not already suffered sufficiently?” The youth replied, “Nothing shall prevent me.”  Upon which the sage exclaimed, “Go then, my son, and my midnight prayers shall attend thee.”

The youth now repaired to the hummaum, and having bathed, dressed himself in his richest habit; after which he discovered himself to the crier, who conducted him to the palace.  He made a profound obeisance to the sultan, at the same time uttering an eloquent prayer for his long life and prosperity.  The sultan was struck with his manly beauty, the gracefulness of his demeanour, and the propriety of his delivery, and said, “Young stranger, who art thou, and from whence dost thou come?” “I am,” replied the youth, “the half man whom you saw, and have done what you are already acquainted with.”

The sultan now requested him to sit in the most honourable place, and entered into conversation on various subjects.  He put to him several difficult questions in science, to which the youth replied with such judgment, that his abilities astonished him, and he said to himself, “This young man is truly worthy of my daughter.”  He then addressed him, saying, “Young man, my wish is to unite thee to my daughter, for thou hast already seen her, also her mother, and after what has passed no one will marry her.”  The youth replied, “I am ready in obedience, but must advise with my friends.”  “Go then,” said the sultan, “consult with thy friends, and return quickly.”

The young man repaired to the sage, and having informed him of what had passed between himself and the sultan, signified his wish to marry the princess, when the shekh replied, “Do so, my son; there can be in the measure no crime, as it is a lawful alliance.”  “But I wish,” said the youth, “to invite the sultan to visit you.”  “By all means,” answered the sage.  “My lord,” rejoined the pupil, “since I first came, and you honoured me in your service, I have beheld you in no other residence but this confined cell, from which you have never stirred night or day.  How can I invite the sultan here?” “My son,” exclaimed the shekh, “go to the sultan, rely upon Allah, who can work miracles in favour of whom he chooseth, and say unto him, ’My patron greets thee, and requests thy company to an entertainment five days hence.’” The youth did as he was directed, and having returned to his master, waited upon him as before, but anxiously wishing for the fifth day to arrive.

On the fifth day, the sage said to his impatient pupil, “Let us remove to our own house, that we may prepare for the reception of the sultan, whom you must conduct to me.”  They arose, and walked, till on coming to a ruinous building about the middle of the city, the walls of which were fallen in heaps, the shekh said, “My son, this is my mansion, hasten and bring the sultan.”  The pupil, in astonishment, exclaimed, “My lord, this abode is a heap of ruins, how can I invite the sultan here, it would only disgrace us?” “Go,” repeated the sage, “and dread not the consequences.”  Upon this the youth departed, but as he went on could not help saying to himself, “Surely my master must be insane, or means to make a jest of us.”  When he had reached the palace he found the sultan expecting him; upon which he made his obeisance, and said, “Will my lord honour me by his company?”

The sultan arose, mounted his horse, and attended by his whole court, followed the youth to the place chosen by the venerable shekh.  It now appeared a royal mansion, at the gates of which were ranged numerous attendants in costly habits, respectfully waiting.  The young man, at sight of this transformed appearance, was confounded in such a manner that he could hardly retain his senses.  He said to himself, “It was but this instant that I beheld this place a heap of ruins, yet now it is a palace far more magnificent than any belonging to this sultan.  I am astonished, but must keep the secret to myself.”

The sultan alighted, as did also his courtiers, and entered the palace.  They were surprised and delighted at the splendour of the first court, but much more so at the superior magnificence of a second; into which they were ushered, and introduced into a spacious hall, where they found the venerable shekh sitting to receive them.  The sultan made a low obeisance; upon which the sage just moved his head, but did not rise.  The sultan then sat down, when the shekh greeted him, and they entered into conversation on various subjects; but the senses of the sultan were confounded at the dignified demeanour of his host, and the splendid objects around him.  At length the shekh desired his pupil to knock at a door and order breakfast to be brought in, which he did:  when lo! the door opened, and there entered a hundred slaves, bearing upon their heads golden trays, on which were placed dishes of agate, cornelian, and other stones, filled with various eatables, which they arranged in order before the sultan.  He was astonished, for he had nothing so magnificent in his own possession.  He then partook of the sumptuous collation, as did also the venerable shekh, and all the courtiers, till they were satisfied; after which they drank coffee and sherbets of various sorts, when the sultan and the sage conversed on religious and literary subjects, and the former was edified by the remarks of the latter.

When it was noon the shekh again desired his pupil to knock at another door, and order dinner to be brought in.  He had no sooner done so, than immediately a hundred slaves, different from the former, entered, bearing trays of the richest viands.  They spread the cloth before the sultan, and arranged the dishes, which were each thickly set with precious stones, at which he was more astonished than before.  When all had eaten till they were satisfied, basins and ewers, some of gold and others of agate, were carried round, and they washed their hands; after which the shekh said to the sultan, “Have you fixed what my son must give as the dower of your daughter?” To this, the sultan replied, “I have already received it.”  This he said out of compliment; but the shekh replied, “My lord, the marriage cannot be valid without a dower.”  He then presented a vast sum of money, with many jewels, for the purpose to his pupil; after which he retired with the sultan into a chamber, and arrayed him in a splendid habit; rich dresses were also given to each of his attendants according to their rank.  The sultan then took leave of the shekh, and returned with his intended son-in-law to the palace.

When evening arrived the young man was introduced into the apartment of the princess, which he found spread with the richest carpets, and perfumed with costly essences, but his bride was absent:  at which he was somewhat surprised, but supposed her coming was put off till midnight, for which he waited with impatience.  Midnight came, but no bride appeared; when a thousand uneasy sensations afflicted his mind, and he continued in restless anxiety till morning:  nor were the father and mother of the princess less impatient; for supposing she was with her husband, they waited anxiously, and were mortified at the delay.

At daylight, the mother, unable to bear longer suspense, entered the chamber; when the young man, rather angrily, inquired what had delayed the coming of his bride.  “She entered before thee,” replied the mother.  “I have not seen her,” answered the bridegroom.  Upon this the sultana shrieked with affright, calling aloud on her daughter, for she had no other child but her.  Her cries alarmed the sultan, who rushing into the apartment, was informed that the princess was missing, and had not been seen since her entrance in the evening.  Search was now made in every quarter of the palace, but in vain; and the sultan, sultana, and the bridegroom, were involved in the deepest distress.

To account for the sudden disappearance of the princess, be it known, that a genie used often to divert himself with visiting the haram of the sultan; and happening to be there on the marriage night, was so captivated by the charms of the bride, that he resolved to steal her away.  Accordingly, having rendered himself invisible, he waited in the nuptial chamber, and upon her entering bore her off, and soared into the air.  At length he alighted with his prey in a delightful garden, far distant from the city; placed the princess in a shady arbour, and set before her delicious fruits; but contented himself with gazing upon her beauty.

The young bridegroom, when recovered from his first alarm, bethought himself of his tutor, and, together with the sultan, repaired to the palace where the splendid entertainment had been given.  Here they found every thing in the same order as on the day of festivity, and were kindly received by the venerable shekh; who on hearing of the loss of the princess, desired them to be comforted.  He then commanded a chafing-dish of lighted charcoal to be set before him, and after some moments of contemplation, cast into it some perfumes, over which he pronounced incantations.  He had scarcely ended them, when lo! the earth shook, whirlwinds arose, lightnings flashed, and clouds of dust darkened the air, from which speedily descended winged troops, bearing superb standards and massive spears.  In the centre of them appeared three sultans of the genii, who bowing low before the shekh, exclaimed all at once, “Master, hail! we are come to obey thy commands.”

The shekh now addressed them, saying, “My orders are, that you instantly bring me the accursed spirit who hath carried off the bride of my son;” when the genii replied, “To hear is to obey:”  and immediately detached fifty of their followers to reconduct the princess to her chamber, and drag the culprit to the presence of the sage.  These commands were no sooner issued than they were performed.  Ten of the genii carefully conveyed the bride to her apartment, while the rest having seized the offending genie, dragged him before the sage, who commanded the three sultans to burn him to ashes, which was executed in an instant.  All this was done in the presence of the sultan, who was wrapt in astonishment, and viewed with awe the tremendously gigantic figures of the genii, wondering at the submissive readiness with which they obeyed the commands of the venerable shekh.  When the offending genie was consumed to ashes, the shekh renewed his incantations; during which the sultans of the genii, with their followers, bowed themselves before him, and when he had ended, vanished from sight.

The sultan and the bridegroom having taken leave of the shekh, returned to the palace, where all was now gladness for the safe return of the princess.  The marriage was consummated, and the young man was so happy with his bride, that he did not quit the haram for seven days.  On the eighth, the sultan ordered public rejoicings to be made, and invited all the inhabitants of the city to feast at the royal cost; causing it to be proclaimed, that no one, either rich or poor, should for three days presume to eat at home, light a fire, or burn a lamp in his own house, but all repair to the nuptial festival of the daughter of the sultan.  Ample provision was made for all comers in the courts of the palace, and the officers of the household attended day and night to serve the guests according to their quality.  During one of the nights of this grand festival, the sultan being anxious to know if his proclamation was generally obeyed, resolved to walk through the city in disguise.  Accordingly he and his vizier, in the habit of dervishes of Persia, having quitted the palace privately, began their excursion, and narrowly examined several streets.  At length they came to a close alley, in one of the houses of which they perceived a light, and heard the sound of voices.  When they had reached the door, they heard a person say to another, “Our sultan understands not how to treat properly, nor is he liberal, since the poor have it not in their option to partake of the costly feast he has prepared for his daughter’s nuptials.  He should have distributed his bounty among the wretched, who dare not presume to enter the palace in their ragged garments, by sending it to their home.”

The sultan, upon hearing this, said to the vizier, “We must enter this house;” and knocked at the door, when a person cried out, “Who is there?” “Guests,” replied the sultan.  “You shall be welcome to what we have,” answered the person, and opened the door.  On entering, the sultan beheld three mean-looking old men, one of whom was lame, the second broken-backed, and the third wry-mouthed.  He then inquired the cause of their misfortunes; to which they answered, “Our infirmities proceeded from the weakness of our understandings.”  The sultan upon this replied in a whisper to his vizier, that at the conclusion of the festival he should bring the three men to his presence, in order that he might learn their adventures.

When they had tasted of their homely fare, the sultan and vizier rose up, and having presented the three maimed companions with a few deenars, took leave and departed.  They strolled onwards.  It was now near midnight when they reached a house in which, through a lattice, they could perceive three girls with their mother eating a slender meal; during which, at intervals, one of them sung, and the other two laughed and talked.  The sultan resolved to enter the house, and commanded the vizier to knock at the door, which he did; when one of the sisters cried out, “Who knocks at our door at this advanced time of night?” “We are two foreign dervishes,” replied the vizier; to which the ladies answered, “We are women of virtue, and have no men in our house to whom you can be introduced:  repair to the festival of the sultan, who will entertain you!” “Alas!” continued the vizier, “we are strangers unacquainted with the way to the palace, and dread lest the magistrate of the police should meet and apprehend us.  We beg that you will afford us lodging till daylight:  we will then depart, and you need not apprehend from us any improper behaviour.”

When the mother of the ladies heard this she pitied the strangers, and commanded them to open the door:  upon which the sultan and vizier having entered, paid their respects and sat down; but the former, on observing the beauty of the sisters and their elegant demeanour, could not contain himself, and said, “How comes it that you dwell by yourselves, have no husbands or any male to protect you?” The younger sister replied, “Impertinent dervish, withhold thy inquiries! our story is surprising; but unless thou wert sultan, and thy companion vizier, you could not appreciate our adventures.”  The sultan upon this remark became silent on the subject, and they discoursed upon indifferent matters till near daylight, when the pretended dervishes took a respectful leave, and departed.  At the door the sultan commanded the vizier to mark it, so that he might know it again, being resolved, when the nuptial festivities should be concluded, to send for the ladies and hear their story.

On the last evening of the festival the sultan bestowed dresses of honour on all his courtiers; and on the following day, affairs returning to their usual course, he commanded his vizier to bring before him the three maimed men, and ordered them to relate the cause of their misfortunes, which they did as follows.

Story of the Broken-backed Schoolmaster.

Formerly, O mighty sultan, was a schoolmaster, and had under my tuition nearly seventy scholars, of whose manners I was as careful as of their learning:  so much did I make them respect me, that whenever I sneezed they laid down their writing boards, stood up with arms crossed, and with one voice exclaimed, “God have mercy upon our tutor!” to which I replied, “May he have mercy upon me and you, and all who have children.”  If any one of the boys did not join in this prayer, I used to beat him severely.  One fine afternoon my scholars requested leave to visit a certain garden some distance from the town, which I granted; and they clubbed their pittances to purchase sweetmeats and fruits.  I attended them on this excursion, and was as much delighted as themselves with the pleasure they enjoyed, and their childish gambols.  When evening approached we returned homewards, and on the way, my boys having fatigued themselves with play, as well as eaten much sweets and fruit, were seized with extreme thirst, of which they heavily complained.  At length we reached a draw-well, but, alas! it had no bucket or cord.  I pitied their situation, and resolved, if possible, to relieve them.  I requested them to give me their turbans, which I tied to each other; but as they were altogether not long enough to reach the water, I fixed one of the turbans round my body, and made them let one down into the well, where I filled a small cup I had with me, which they drew up repeatedly till their thirst was satisfied.  I then desired them to draw me up again, which they attempted; and I had reached nearly the mouth of the well, when I was unfortunately seized with a fit of sneezing; upon which the boys mechanically, as they had been accustomed to do in school, one and all let go their hold, crossed their arms, and exclaimed, “God have mercy upon our venerable tutor!” while I tumbled at once to the bottom of the well, and broke my back.  I cried out from the agony of pain, and the children ran on all sides for help.  At length some charitable passengers drew me out, and placing me upon an ass, carried me home; where I languished for a considerable time, and never could recover my health sufficiently again to attend to my school.  Thus did I suffer for my foolish pride:  for had I not been so tenacious of respect from my scholars, they would not upon my sneezing have let go their hold and broken my back.

When the broken-backed schoolmaster had finished his story, the old man with the wry-mouth thus began:

Story of the Wry-mouthed Schoolmaster.

I also, O sultan, was a schoolmaster; and so strict with my pupils, that I allowed them no indulgence, but even kept them to their studies frequently after the usual hours.  At length, one more cunning than the rest resolved, in revenge, to play me a trick.  He instructed the lads as they came into school to say to me, “Dear master, how pale you look!” Not feeling myself ill, I, though surprised at their remarks, did not much regard them on the first day; but a second, and so on to a fifth passing, on each of which all the pupils on entrance uttered the same exclamation, I began to think some fatal disorder had seized me, and resolved, by way of prevention, to take physic.  I did so the following morning, and remained in my wife’s apartments; upon which the unlucky lads, clubbing their pittances together to the amount of about a hundred faloose, requested my acceptance of the money as an offering for my recovery; and I was so pleased with the present that I gave them a holiday.  The receipt of cash in so easy a manner was so agreeable to me, that I feigned illness for some days; my pupils made an offering as usual, and were allowed to play.  On the tenth day the cunning urchin who had planned the scheme came into my chamber, as customary, with an offering of faloose.  I happened then to have before me a boiled egg, which, upon seeing him enter, I clapped into my mouth, supposing, that if he perceived me well enough to eat he might not give me the money.  He, however, observed the trick, and coming up to me with affected condolence, exclaimed, “Dear master, how your cheeks are swelled!” at the same time pressing his hands upon my face.  The egg was boiling hot, and gave me intolerable pain, while the young wit pretended compassionately to stroke my visage.  At length, he pressed my jaws together so hard that the egg broke, when the scalding yolk ran down my throat, and over my beard:  upon which the artful lad cried out in seeming joy, “God be praised, my dear master, that the dreadful imposthume has discharged itself; we, your pupils, will all return thanks for your happy recovery.”  My mouth was contracted by the scald in the manner you behold, and I became so ridiculed for my folly, that I was obliged to shut up my school.

The sultan having heard the other man’s story, which was of but little interest, dismissed the three foolish schoolmasters with a present, commanded the vizier to go and recognize the house of the three ladies and their mother, it being his intention to visit them again in disguise and hear their adventures.  The vizier hastened to the street, but to his surprise and mortification found all the houses marked in the same manner, for the youngest sister having overheard the sultan’s instructions, had done this to prevent a discovery of their residence.  The vizier returned to the sultan, and informed him of the trick which had been played.  He was much vexed, but the circumstance excited his curiosity in a greater degree.  At length the vizier bethought himself of a stratagem, and said, “My lord, let a proclamation be issued for four days successively throughout the city, that whoever presumes after the first watch of the night to have a lamp lighted in his house, shall have his head struck off, his goods confiscated, his house razed to the ground, and his women dishonoured.  It is possible, as these ladies did not regard your proclamation at the nuptials of the princess, they may disobey this, and by that means we may discover their residence.”

The sultan approved the contrivance of the vizier, caused the proclamation to be made, and waited impatiently for the fourth night, when he and his minister having disguised themselves as before, proceeded to the street in which the ladies lived.  A light appeared only in one house, which it being now tolerably certain was that they were in quest of, they knocked at the door.

Immediately on their knocking the youngest sister called out, “Who is at the door?” and they replied, “We are dervishes, and entreat to be your guests.”  She exclaimed, “What can you want at such a late hour, and where did you lodge last night?” They answered, “Our quarters are at a certain serai, but we have lost our way, and are fearful of being apprehended by the officers of police.  Let your kindness then induce you to open the door, and afford us shelter for the remainder of the night:  it will be a meritorious act in the eye of heaven.”  The mother overhearing what was said, ordered the door to be opened.

When they were admitted, the old lady and her daughters rose up, received them respectfully, and having seated them, placed refreshments before them, of which they partook, and were delighted with their treatment.  At length the sultan said, “Daughters, you cannot but know of the royal proclamation; how comes it that you alone of all the inhabitants of the city have disobeyed it by having lights in your house after the first watch of the night?” Upon this the youngest sister replied, “Good dervish, even the sultan should not be obeyed but in his reasonable commands, and as this proclamation against lighting our lamps is tyrannical, it ought not to be complied with, consistently with the law of scripture; for the Koraun says, ’Obedience to a creature in a criminal matter, is a sin against the Creator.’  The sultan (may God pardon him!) acts against scripture, and obeys the dictates of Satan.  We three sisters, with our good mother, make it a rule to spin every night a certain quantity of cotton, which in the morning we dispose of, and of the price of our labour we lay out a part in provisions, and the remainder in a new supply of materials for working to procure us a subsistence.”

The sultan now whispered to his vizier, saying, “This damsel astonishes me by her answers; endeavour to think of some question that may perplex her.”  “My lord,” replied the vizier, “we are here in the characters of strangers and dervishes as their guests:  how then can we presume to disturb them by improper questions?” The sultan still insisted upon his addressing them:  upon which, the vizier said to the ladies, “Obedience to the sultan’s orders is incumbent upon all subjects.”  “It is true he is our sovereign,” exclaimed the youngest sister, “but how can he know whether we are starving or in affluence?” “Suppose,” replied the vizier, “he should send for you to the presence, and question you concerning your disobedience to his commands, what could you advance in excuse for yourselves?” “I would say to the sultan,” rejoined she, “’Your majesty has acted in contradiction to the divine law.’”

The vizier upon this turned towards the sultan, and said in a whisper, “Let us leave off disputing further with this lady on points of law or conscience, and inquire if she understands the fine arts.”  The sultan put the question; upon which she replied, “I am perfect in all:”  and he then requested her to play and sing.  She retired immediately, but soon returning with a lute, sat down, tuned it, and played in a plaintive strain, which she accompanied with the following verses:

“It is praiseworthy in subjects to obey their sovereigns, but his reign will continue long who gains their affections by kindness.  Be liberal in thy manners, and he who is dependent upon thee will pray for thy life, for the free man alone can feel gratitude.  To him who confers gifts man will ever resort, for bounty is fascinating.  Sadden not with denial the countenance of the man of genius, for the liberal mind is disgusted at stinginess and haughty demeanour.  Not a tenth part of mankind understand what is right, for human nature is ignorant, rebellious, and ungrateful.”

When the sultan had heard these verses, he remained for some time immersed in thought; then whispering his vizier, said, “This quotation was certainly meant in allusion to ourselves, and I am convinced they must know that I am their sultan, and thou vizier, for the whole tenor of their conversation shews their knowledge of us.”  He then addressed the lady, saying, “Your music, your performance, your voice, and the subject of your stanzas have delighted me beyond expression.”  Upon this she sang the following verse:

“Men endeavour to attain station and riches during an age of toil and oppression, while, alas! their accounts to heaven and their graves are decreed from their very birth.”

The sultan, from the purport of these last verses, was more assured than ever that she knew his quality.  She did not leave off singing and playing till day-light, when she retired, and brought in a breakfast, of which the sultan and the vizier partook; after which she said, “I hope you will return to us this night at the conclusion of the first watch, and be our guests.”  The sultan promised, and departed in admiration at the beauty of the sisters, their accomplishments, and graceful manners; saying to the vizier, “My soul is delighted with the charms of these elegant women.”

The following evening the sultan and vizier, disguised as usual, repaired to the house of the sisters, taking with them some purses of deenars, and were received with the same respectful welcome.  Being seated, supper was set before them, and after it basins and ewers to wash their hands.  Coffee was then served up, and conversation on various subjects amused them till the prayer time of the first watch; they then arose, performed their ablutions, and prayed.  When, their devotions were ended, the sultan presented a purse of a thousand deenars to the youngest sister, and said, “Expend this upon your necessary occasions.”  She took the purse with a profound obeisance, kissed his hands, and was convinced, as she had before suspected, that he must be the sultan; at the same time hinting privately to her mother and sisters the quality of their guests, and prostrating herself before him.

The other ladies upon this arose, and followed the example of their sister; when the sultan said aside to his vizier, “They certainly know us:”  and then turning to the ladies, addressed them saying, “We are merely dervishes, and you pay us a respect only due to sovereigns; I beseech you refrain.”  The youngest sister again fell at his feet, and repeated the following verse:

“May prosperous fortune daily accompany thee in spite of the malice of the envious!  May thy days be bright and those of thy enemies gloomy!”

“I am convinced thou art the sultan, and thy companion thy vizier.”  The sultan replied, “What reason have you for such a supposition?” She answered, “From your dignified demeanour and liberal conduct, for the signs of royalty cannot be concealed even in the habit of a recluse.”

The sultan replied, “You have indeed judged truly, but inform me how happens it, that you have with you no male protectors?” She answered, “My lord the sultan, our history is so wonderful, that were it written on a tablet of adamant it might serve as an example in future ages to such as would be advised.”  The sultan requested her to relate it, which she did in the following manner.

Story of the Sisters and the Sultana their Mother.

We are not, my lord the sultan, natives of this city, but of Eerauk, of which country our father was sovereign, and our mother his sultana the most beautiful woman of her time, insomuch that her fame was celebrated throughout distant regions.  It chanced that in our infancy our father the sultan marched upon a hunting excursion throughout his dominions, for some months, leaving his vizier to conduct affairs at the capital.  Not long after the departure of the sultan, our mother, taking the air on the roof of the palace, which adjoined that of the vizier, who was then sitting upon his terrace, her image was reflected in a mirror which he held in his hand.  He was fascinated with her beauty, and resolved, if possible, to seduce her to infidelity and compliance with his wishes.

The day following he sent the female superintendant of his haram with a package, containing a most superb dress, and many inestimable jewels, to the sultana, requesting her acceptance of them, and that she would allow him to see her either at the palace or at his own house.  My mother, when the old woman was admitted into her apartments, received her with kindness, supposing that she must be intrusted with some confidential message from the vizier respecting the affairs of her husband, or with letters from him.

The old woman having paid her obeisance, opened the bundle, and displayed the rich dress and dazzling jewels; when my mother, admiring them much, inquired the value, and what merchant had brought them to dispose of.  The wretched old woman, supposing that the virtue of the sultana would not be proof against such a valuable present, impudently disclosed the passion of the vizier:  upon which my mother, indignant with rage at this insult offered to her virtue and dignity, drew a sabre, which was near, and exerting all her strength, struck off the head of the procuress, which, with the body, she commanded her attendants to cast into the common sewer of the palace.

The vizier finding his messenger did not return, the next day despatched another, to signify that he had sent a present to the sultana, but had not heard whether it had been delivered.  My mother commanded the infamous wretch to be strangled, and the corpse to be thrown into the same place as that of the old woman, but she did not make public the vizier’s baseness, hoping that he would reform.  He, however, continued every day to send a female domestic, and my mother to treat her in the same way as the others till the sultan’s return; but my mother, not wishing to destroy the vizier, and still trusting that he would repent of his conduct, for in other respects he was a faithful and prudent minister, kept his treachery a secret from my father.

Some years after this, the sultan my father resolved on a pilgrimage to Mecca, and having, as before, left the vizier in charge of his kingdom, departed.  When he had been gone ten days, the vizier, still rapturously in love, and yet presumtuously hoping to attain his wishes, sent a female domestic, who, being admitted into the apartment of the sultana, said, “For Heaven’s sake have compassion on my master, for his heart is devoted to love, his senses are disturbed, and his body is wasted away.  Pity his condition, revive his heart, and restore his health by the smiles of condescension.”

When my mother heard this insolent message, she in a rage commanded her attendants to seize the unfortunate bearer, and having strangled her, to leave the carcase for public view in the outer court of the palace, but without divulging the cause of her displeasure.  Her orders were obeyed.  When the officers of state and others saw the body they informed the vizier, who, resolving to be revenged, desired them for the present to be silent, and on the sultan’s return he would make known on what account the sultana had put to death his domestic, of which they could bear testimony.

When the time of the sultan’s return from Mecca approached, and the treacherous vizier judged he was on his march, he wrote and despatched to him the following letter:

“After prayers for thy health, be it known, that since thy absence the sultana has sent to me five times, requesting improper compliances, to which I would not consent, and returned for answer, that however she might wish to abuse my sovereign, I could not do it, for I was left by him guardian of his honour and his kingdom:  to say more would be superfluous.”

The messenger reached the sultan’s camp when distant eight days’ journey from the city, and delivered the letter.  On reading it the countenance of my father became pale, his eyes rolled with horror, he instantly ordered his tents to be struck, and moved by forced marches till he arrived within two days’ journey of his capital.  He then commanded a halting day, and despatched two confidential attendants with orders to conduct our innocent and unfortunate mother, with us three sisters, a day’s distance from the city, and then to put us to death.  They accordingly dragged us from the haram, and carried us into the country; but on arriving at the spot intended for our execution, their hearts were moved with compassion, for our mother had conferred many obligations on these men and their families.  They said one to another, “By heavens, we cannot murder them!” and informed us of what the vizier had written to our father:  upon which the sultana exclaimed, “God knows that he hath most falsely accused me;” and she then related to them all that she had done, with the strictest fidelity.

The men were moved even to tears at her misfortunes, and said, “We are convinced that thou hast spoken truly.”  They then caught some fawns of the antelope, killed them, and having required an under garment from each of us, dipped it in the blood, after which they broiled the flesh, with which we satisfied our hunger.  Our preservers now bade us farewell, saying, “We intrust you to the protection of the Almighty, who never forsaketh those who are committed to his care;” and then departed from us.  We wandered for ten days in the desert, living on such fruits as we could find, without beholding any signs of population, when, at length, fortunately we reached a verdant spot, abounding in various sorts of excellent vegetables and fruits.  Here also was a cave, in which we resolved to shelter ourselves till a caravan might pass by.  On the fourth day of our arrival one encamped near our asylum.  We did not discover ourselves, but when the caravan marched, speedily followed its track at some distance, and after many days of painful exertion reached this city, where, having taken up our lodging in a serai, we returned thanks to the almighty assister of the distressed innocent for our miraculous escape from death and the perils of the desert.

We must now quit for awhile the unfortunate sultana and her daughters, to learn the adventures of the sultan her husband.  As he drew near his capital, the treacherous vizier, attended by the officers of government and the principal inhabitants of the city, came out to meet him; and both high and low congratulated his safe return from the sacred pilgrimage.

The sultan, as soon as he had alighted at his palace, retired with the vizier alone, and commanded him to relate the particulars of the atrocious conduct of his wife; upon which he said, “My lord, the sultana in your absence despatched to me a slave, desiring me to visit her, but I would not, and I put the slave to death that the secret might be hidden; hoping she might repent of her weakness, but she did not, and repeated her wicked invitation five times.  On the fifth I was alarmed for your honour, and acquainted you of her atrocious behaviour.”

The sultan, on hearing the relation of the vizier, held down his head for some time in profound thought, then lifting it up, commanded the two attendants whom he had despatched with orders to put his wife and children to death to be brought before him.  On their appearance, he said, “What have you done in execution of the charge I gave you?” they replied, “We have performed that which you commanded to be done, and as a testimony of our fidelity, behold these garments dyed with the blood of the offenders!” The sultan took the garments; but the recollection of his beauteous consort, her former affectionate endearments, of the happiness he had enjoyed with her, and of the innocence of his guiltless children, so affected his mind, that he wept bitterly and fainted away.  On his recovery he turned to the vizier, and said, “Is it possible thou canst have spoken the truth?” He replied, “I have.”

The sultan, after a long pause, again said to the two attendants, “Have you really put to death my innocent children with their guilty mother?” They remained silent.  The sultan exclaimed, “Why answer ye not, and wherefore are ye silent?” They replied, “My lord, the honest man cannot support a lie, for lying is the distinction of traitors.”  When the vizier heard these words his colour changed, his whole frame was disordered, and a trembling seized him, which the sultan perceiving, he said to the attendants, “What mean you by remarking that lying is the distinction of traitors?  Is it possible that ye have not put them to death?  Declare the truth instantly, or by the God who hath appointed me guardian of his people, I will have you executed with the most excruciating torments.”

The two men now fell at the feet of the sultan, and said, “Dread sovereign, we conveyed, as thou commandest us, the unfortunate sultana and thy daughters to the middle of the desert, when we informed them of the accusation of the vizier and thy orders concerning them.  The sultana, after listening to us with fortitude, exclaimed, ’There is no refuge or asylum but with the Almighty; from God we came, and to God we must return; but if you put us to death, you will do it wrongfully, for the treacherous vizier hath accused me falsely, and he alone is guilty.’  She then informed us of his having endeavoured to corrupt her by rich presents, and that she had put his messengers to death.”

The sultan at these words exclaimed in agony, “Have ye slain them, or do they yet live?” “My lord,” replied the attendants, “We were so convinced of the innocence of the sultana, that we could not put her to death.  We caught some fawn antelopes, killed them, and having dipped these garments belonging to the abused mother and your children in their blood, dressed the flesh, and gave it to our unfortunate mistress and thy daughters, after which we said to them, ’We leave you in charge of a gracious God who never deserts his trust; your innocence will protect you.’  We then left them in the midst of the desert, and returned to the city.”

The sultan turned in fury towards the vizier, and exclaimed, “Wretched traitor! and is it thus thou hast estranged from me my beloved wife and innocent children?” The self-convicted minister uttered not a word, but trembled like one afflicted with the palsy.  The sultan commanded instantly an enormous pile of wood to be kindled, and the vizier, being bound hand and foot, was forced into an engine, and cast from it into the fire, which rapidly consumed him to ashes.  His house was then razed to the ground, his effects left to the plunder of the populace, and the women of his haram and his children sold for slaves.

We now return to the three princesses and their mother.  When the sultan had heard their adventures, he sympathized with their misfortunes, and was astonished at the fortitude with which they had borne their afflictions, saying to his vizier, “How sad has been their lot! but blessed be Allah, who, as he separateth friends, can, when he pleaseth, give them a joyful meeting.”  He then caused the sultana and the princesses to be conveyed to his palace, appointed them proper attendants and apartments suitable to their rank, and despatched couriers to inform the sultan their father of their safety.  The messengers travelled with the greatest expedition, and on their arrival at the capital, being introduced, presented their despatches.  The sultan opened them, and began to read; but when he perceived the contents, was so overcome with joy, that, uttering a loud exclamation of rapture, he fell to the ground and fainted away.  His attendants were alarmed, lifted him up, and took means for his recovery.  When he was revived, he informed them of his sultana and daughters being still alive, and ordered a vessel to be prepared to convey them home.

The ship was soon ready, and being laden with every necessary for the accommodation of his family, also rich presents for the friendly sultan who had afforded them protection, sailed with a favourable wind, and speedily arrived at the desired haven.

The commander of the vessel was welcomely received by the sultan, who issued orders for his entertainment and that of his whole crew at the royal cost, and at the expiration of three days the sultana and her daughters, being anxious to return home after so long an absence, and that so unfortunate, took leave and embarked.  The sultan made them valuable presents, and the wind being fair they set sail.  For three days the weather was propitious, but on the evening of the last a contrary gale arose, when they cast anchor, and lowered their topmasts.  At length the storm increased to such violence that the anchor parted, the masts fell overboard, and the crew gave themselves over for lost.  The vessel was driven about at the mercy of the tempest till midnight, all on board weeping and wailing, when at length she struck upon the rocks, and went to pieces.  Such of the crew whose deaths were decreed perished, and those whose longer life was predestined escaped to shore, some on planks, some on chests, and some on the broken timbers of the ship, but all separated from each other.

The sultana mother was tossed about till daylight on a plank, when she was perceived by the commander of the vessel, who with three of his crew had taken to the ship’s boat.  He took her in, and after three days’ rowing they reached a mountainous coast, on which they landed, and advanced into the country.  They had not proceeded far when they perceived a great dust, which clearing up, displayed an approaching army.  To their joyful surprise it proved to be that of the sultan, who, after the departure of the vessel, dreading lest an accident might happen, had marched in hopes of reaching the city where they were before his wife and daughters should sail, in order to conduct them home by land.  It is impossible to describe the meeting of the sultan and his consort, but their joy was clouded by the absence of their daughters, and the dreadful uncertainty of their fate.  When the first raptures of meeting were over, they wept together, and exclaimed, “We are from God, and to God we must return.”  After forty days’ march they arrived at their capital, but continually regretting the princesses, saying, “Alas, alas! most probably they have been drowned, but even should they have escaped to shore, perhaps they may have been separated; and ah! what calamities may have befallen them!” Constantly did they bemoan together in this manner, immersed in grief, and taking no pleasure in the enjoyments of life.

The youngest princess, after struggling with the waves till almost exhausted, was fortunately cast ashore on a pleasant coast, where she found some excellent fruits and clear fresh water.  Being revived, she reposed herself awhile, and then walked from the beach into the country; but she had not proceeded far, when a young man on horseback with some dogs following him met her, and upon hearing that she had just escaped shipwreck, mounted her before him, and having conveyed her to his house, committed her to the care of his mother.  She received her with compassionate kindness, and during a whole month assiduously attended her, till by degrees she recovered her health and beauty.

The young man was legal heir to the kingdom, but his succession had been wrested from him by a usurper, who, however, dying soon after the arrival of the princess, he was reinstated in his rights and placed on the throne, when he offered her his hand; but she said, “How can I think of marriage while I know not the condition of my unfortunate family, or enjoy repose while my mother and sisters are perhaps suffering misery?  When I have intelligence of their welfare I will be grateful to my deliverer.”

The young sultan was so much in love with the princess, that the most distant hope gave him comfort, and he endeavoured to wait patiently her pleasure; but the nobles of the country were anxious to see him wedded, he being the last of his race, and importuned him to marry.  He promised to conform to their wishes, but much time elapsing, they became importunate and discontented, when his mother, dreading a rebellion, earnestly entreated the princess to consent to a union as the only measure that could prevent disturbances.  The princess, who really loved her preserver, was unwilling to endanger the safety of one to whom she owed such important obligations, and at length consented, when the marriage was celebrated with the greatest pomp and rejoicings.  At the expiration of three years the sultana was delivered of two sons, whose birth added to the felicity of the union.

The second princess, after being long driven about by the waves upon a plank, was at length cast on shore near a large city, which she entered, and was fortunately compassionated by a venerable matron, who invited her to her house, and adopted her as a daughter in the room of her own, who had lately died.  Here she soon recovered her health and beauty.  It chanced that the sultan of this city, who was much beloved for his gentle government and liberality, was taken ill, and not withstanding the skill of the most celebrated physicians, daily became worse, insomuch that his life was despaired of, to the general grief of the people.  The princess having heard her venerable protectress lament the danger of the sultan, said, “My dear mother, I will prepare a dish of pottage, which, if you will carry to the sultan, and he can be prevailed upon to eat it, will, by the blessing of Allah, recover him from his disorder.”  “I fear,” replied the matron, “I shall hardly be allowed admittance to the palace, much less to present him the pottage.”  “You can but try,” answered the princess; “and even the attempt at a good action is acceptable to God.”  “Well,” rejoined the old woman, “prepare your pottage, my dear daughter, and I will endeavour to get admission.”

The princess prepared the dish of pottage, composed of various minerals, herbs, and perfumes, and when it was ready the old woman took it to the sultan’s palace.  The guards and eunuchs inquired what she had brought, when she said, “A dish of pottage, which I request you will present to the sultan, and beg him to eat as much of it as he can, for by God’s help it will restore him to health.”  The eunuchs introduced her into the chamber of their sick sovereign, when the old woman taking off the cover of the dish, such a grateful perfume exhaled from the contents as revived his spirits.  Being informed what the venerable matron had brought, he thanked her and tasted the pottage, which was so agreeably flavoured that he ate part of it with an appetite to which he had been long a stranger.  He then presented the bearer with a purse of deenars, when she returned home, informed the princess of her welcome reception, and of the present she had received.

The sultan had no sooner eaten part of the pottage than he felt an inclination to repose, and sunk into a refreshing sleep, which lasted for some hours.  On his awakening he found himself wonderfully revived, and having a desire afresh to eat, finished the whole.  He now wished for more, and inquired after the old woman, but none of his attendants could inform him where she lived.  However, in the evening she brought another mess, which the princess had prepared, and the sultan ate it with renewed appetite; after which, though before quite helpless, he was now able to sit up and even to walk.  He inquired of the old woman if it was her own preparation; to which she replied, “No, my lord, but my daughter dressed it, and entreated me to bring it.”  The sultan exclaimed, “She cannot be thy own daughter, as her skill shews her of much higher quality.”  He then made her a present, and requested that she would bring him every morning a fresh supply, to which she said, “To hear is to obey;” and retired.

The princess sent regularly for seven mornings successively a dish of pottage, and the sultan as regularly presented her adopted mother with a purse of deenars; for such was the rapidity of his recovery, that at the expiration of the sixth day he was perfectly well, and on the seventh he mounted his horse and repaired to his country palace to make the absolution of health and enjoy the fresh air.  During her visits he had questioned the old lady concerning her adopted daughter, and she so described her beauty, virtues, and accomplishments, that his heart was smitten, and he became anxious to see her.

The sultan, in order to gratify his curiosity, disguised himself one day in the habit of a dervish, and repairing to the house of the old woman, knocked at the door.  On being questioned what he wanted, he replied, “I am a wandering dervish, a stranger in this city, and distressed with hunger.”  The old woman being fearful of admitting an unknown person, would have sent him away, but the princess exclaimed, “Hospitality to strangers is incumbent upon us, especially to the religious poor.”  Upon this he was admitted, and the princess having seated him respectfully, set victuals before him, of which he ate till he was satisfied, and having washed, rose up, thanked the old woman and her supposed daughter for their bounty, and retired, but his sight was fascinated with her beauty, and his heart devoted to her love.

The sultan on his return to the palace sent for the old woman, and on her arrival presented her with a rich dress and valuable jewels, desiring that she would give them to her daughter, and prevail upon her to put them on.  The old lady promised obedience, and as she walked homewards, said to herself, “If this adopted daughter of mine is wise, she will comply with the sultan’s desires, and put on the dress, but if she does not, I will expel her from my house.”  When she reached home, she displayed the superb habit and the dazzling ornaments; but the princess at first refused to accept them, till at length, moved by the entreaties of her protectress, whom she could not disoblige, she put them on, and the old lady was delighted with her appearance.

The sultan, who had slipped on a female dress, having covered himself with a close veil, followed the old woman to her house, and listened at the door to know if the daughter would accept his present.  When he found that she had put on the dress, he was overcome with rapture, and hastening back to his palace, sent again for the old lady, to whom he signified his wish to marry her daughter.  When the princess was informed of the offer she consented, and the sultan, attended by a splendid cavalcade, conducted her that evening to his palace, where the cauzee united them in marriage.  A general feast was made for all the inhabitants of the city for seven days successively, and the sultan and the princess enjoyed the height of felicity.  In the course of five years the Almighty blessed them with a son and two daughters.

The eldest princess on the wreck of the ship having clung to a piece of timber, was after much distress floated on shore, where she found a man’s habit, and thinking it a safe disguise for the protection of her honour, she dressed herself in it, and proceeded to a city which appeared near the coast.  On her entrance she was accosted by a maker of cotton wallets for travelling, who observing that she was a stranger, and supposing her a man, asked if she would live with him, as he wanted an assistant.  Being glad to secure any asylum, she accepted his offer of maintenance, and daily wages of half a dirhem.  He conducted her to his house, and treated her with kindness.  The next day she entered upon her business, and so neat was the work she executed, that in a short time her master’s shop was more frequented than any other.

It happened that the shop was situated near the palace of the sultan.  One morning the princess his daughter looking through the lattice of a balcony beheld the seeming young man at work, with the sleeves of his vest drawn up to his shoulder:  his arms were white and polished as silver, and his countenance brilliant as the sun unobscured by clouds.  The daughter of the sultan was captivated in the snare of love.

The sultan’s daughter continued gazing at the supposed young man till he withdrew from work, when she retired to her apartment; but so much was she fascinated by his charms, that she became restless, and at length indisposed.  Her nurse who attended her felt her pulse, and asked her several questions, but could find no symptoms of bodily illness upon her.  She said, “My dear daughter, I am convinced that nothing has afflicted thee but desire of some youth with whom thou art in love.”  The princess exclaimed, “My dear mother, as thou hast discovered my secret, thou wilt, I trust, not only keep it sacred, but bring to me the man I love.”  The nurse replied, “No one can keep a secret closer than myself, so that you may safely confide it to my care.”  The princess then said, “Mother, my heart is captivated by the young man who works in the shop opposite my windows, and if I cannot meet him I shall die of grief.”

The nurse replied, “My dear mistress, he is the most beautiful youth of the age, and the women of the whole city are distracted with his charms; yet he is so bashful as to answer no advances, and shrinks from notice like a school-boy, but I will endeavour to overcome his shyness, and procure you a meeting.”  Having said thus, she went immediately to the wallet-maker’s, and giving him a piece of gold, desired he would let his assistant accompany her home with two of his best wallets.  The man was pleased with her generosity, and selecting his choicest manufacture, commanded his journeyman to accompany the nurse.

The old woman led the disguised princess through by-paths to a private passage of the palace, and introduced her into the apartments of the daughter of the sultan, who received her supposed beloved with emotions of joy too violent to be concealed.  Pretending to admire the goods, she asked some questions, and giving him twenty pieces of gold, desired him to return with more goods on the following evening, to which the seeming journeyman replied, “To hear is to obey.”

The disguised princess on her return home delivered the twenty pieces of gold to her employer, who was alarmed, and inquired from whence they came:  upon which she informed him of her adventure, when the wallet-maker was in greater terror than before, and said to himself, “If this intrigue goes on, the sultan will discover it, I shall be put to death, and my family ruined on account of this young man and his follies.”  He then besought him not to repeat his visit, but he answered, “I cannot forbear, though I dread my death may be the consequence.”  In short, the disguised princess went every evening with the old nurse to the apartments of the sultan’s daughter, till at length the sultan one night suddenly entered, and perceiving, he supposed, a man with the princess, commanded him to be seized and bound hand and foot.

The sultan then sent for an executioner, resolved to put the culprit to death.  The executioner on his arrival seized the disguised princess; but what was the surprise of all present, when, on taking off the turban and vest, they discovered her sex.  The sultan commanded her to be conducted to his haram, and inquired her story, when having no resource but the truth, she related her adventures.

When the princess had informed the sultan of the treachery of the vizier, the consequent conduct of her father, the distress of her mother, her sisters and herself, their being relieved, and her escape from shipwreck, with what had happened since, he was filled with wonder and compassion, and ordered his daughter to accommodate her in the haram.  The love of the latter was now changed to sincere friendship, and under her care and attentions the unfortunate princess in a few months recovered her former beauty.  It chanced that the sultan visiting his daughter was fascinated with the charms of the princess, but unwilling to infringe the rules of hospitality concealed his love, till at length he became dangerously ill, when the daughter suspecting the matter, prevailed upon him to reveal the cause of his complaint.  She then informed her friend, and entreated her to accept her father in marriage; but the princess said, at the same time weeping bitterly, “Misfortune hath separated me from my family; I know not whether my sisters, my father and my mother, are living, or, if so, what is their condition.  How can I be happy or merry, while they are perhaps involved in misery?”

The daughter of the sultan did not refrain from comforting the unfortunate princess, at the same time representing the hopeless condition of her father, till at length she consented to the marriage.  This joyful intelligence speedily revived the love-lorn sultan, and the nuptials were celebrated with the utmost joy and magnificence.

The aged sultan and sultana continued to lament the loss of their daughters for some years, when at length the former resolved to travel in search of them, and having left the government in charge of his wife, departed, attended only by his vizier.  They both assumed the habit of dervishes, and after a month’s uninterrupted travelling reached a large city extending along the sea coast, close upon which the sultan of it had erected a magnificent pleasure house, where the pretended dervishes beheld him sitting in one of the pavilions with his two sons, one six and the other seven years old.  They approached, made their obeisance, and uttered a long invocation, agreeably to the usage of the religious, for his prosperity.  The sultan returned their compliment, desired them to be seated, and having conversed with them till evening, dismissed them with a present, when they repaired to a caravanserai, and hired an apartment.  On the following day, after amusing themselves with viewing the city, they again repaired to the beach, and saw the sultan sitting with his children, as before.  While they were admiring the beauty of the structure, the younger prince, impelled by an unaccountable impulse, came up to them, gazed eagerly at them, and when they retired followed them to their lodging, which they did not perceive till he had entered with them and sat down.  The old sultan was astonished at the child’s behaviour, took him in his arms, kissed and fondled him, after which he desired him to return to his parents, but the boy insisted upon staying, and remained four days, during which the pretended dervishes did not stir from their caravanserai.

The sultan missing his son, supposed that he had gone to his mother, and she imagined that he was still with his father; but on the latter entering the haram the loss was discovered.  Messengers were despatched every way, but no tidings of the boy could be obtained.  The miserable parents now supposed that he had fallen into the sea and was drowned.  Nets were dragged, and divers employed for three days, but in vain.  On the fifth day orders were issued to search every house in the city, when the infant prince was at length discovered at the caravanserai in the apartment of the pretended dervishes, who were ignominiously dragged before the sultan.

The sultan was transported with joy at the recovery of his son, but supposing the dervishes had meant to steal him away, he ordered them instantly to be put to death.  The executioners seized them, bound their hands behind them, and were going to strike, when the child with loud outcries ran up, and clinging to the knees of the elder victim could not be forced away.  The sultan was astonished, and ordering the execution for the present to be delayed, went and informed the mother of the child of his wonderful behaviour.

The sultana, on hearing it, was no less surprised than the sultan, and felt a curiosity to hear from the dervish himself on what account he had enticed away her son.  She said, “It is truly extraordinary that the boy should express such affection for a strange dervish.  Send for him to your closet, and order him to relate his adventures, to which I will listen from behind a curtain.”

The sultan sent for the supposed dervish, and commanding all his attendants to retire, withdrew with him into his closet, and desired him to be seated; after which he said, “Wicked dervish, what could have induced thee to entice away my son, or to visit my kingdom?” He replied, “Heaven knows, O sultan, I did not entice him.  The boy followed me to my lodging, when I said, ’My son, return to thy father,’ but he would not; and I remained in continual dread till what was decreed occurred.”  The sultan was softened, spoke kindly to him, and begged him to relate his adventures, when the pretended dervish wept, and said, “My history is a wonderful one.  I had a friend whom I left as my agent and guardian to my family, while I was performing a pilgrimage to Mecca; but had scarcely left my house ten days, when accidently seeing my wife he endeavoured to debauch her, and sent an old woman with a rich present to declare his adulterous love.  My wife was enraged, and put the infamous messenger to death.  He sent a second, and a third, whom she also killed.”

These last words were scarcely spoken, when the sultana bursting from her concealment ran up to the dervish, fell upon his neck, and embraced him:  upon which, the sultan her husband was enraged, put his hand to his cimeter, and exclaimed, “What means this shameless behaviour?” The sultana, at once laughing and crying with rapture, informed him that the supposed dervish was her father:  upon which the sultan also fell at his feet and welcomed him.  He then ordered the other dervish his vizier to be released, commanded royal robes to be brought for his father-in-law, and a suite of apartments in the palace to be prepared for his reception, with an attendance befitting his dignity.

When the old sultan had spent some time with his youngest daughter thus happily recovered, he became anxious to search after the others, and signified his intention of departing; but his son-in-law declared that he would accompany him on the expedition with a number of his nobles, and an army, lest some fatal accident might occur from his being unattended.  Preparations were accordingly made for march, the two sultans encamped without the city, and in a few days began their expedition, which proved successful to their wishes.  The aged monarch having recovered his children retired to his own kingdom, where he reigned prosperously till the angel of death summoned him to Paradise.

STORY OF THE BANG-EATER AND THE CAUZEE.

In a certain city there was a vagabond fellow much addicted to the use of bang, who got his livelihood by fishing.  When he had sold the product of his day’s labour, he laid part of it out in provisions and part in bang, with which (his day’s, work over) he solaced himself till he became intoxicated, and such was his constant practice.  One night, having indulged more than ordinary, his senses were unusually stupefied; and in this, condition he had occasion to come down into the square in which was his lodging.  It happened to be the fourteenth night of the moon, when she shone uncommonly bright, and shed such a lustre upon the ground, that the bang-eater from the dizziness of his head mistook the bright undulations of her reflection on the pavement for water, and fancied he was upon the brink of the river.  He returned to his chamber, and brought down his line, supposing that he should catch his usual prey.

The bang-eater threw out his line, made of strong cord, and baited on several hooks with bits of flesh, into the square, when a dog, allured by the scent, swallowed one of the pieces, and feeling pain from the hook which stuck in his throat, pulled strongly at the cord.  The bang-eater, supposing he had caught a monstrous fish, lugged stoutly, but in vain.  The dog, agonized by the hook, resisted; at the same time yelping hideously, when the bang-eater, unwilling to quit his prey, yet fearing he should be dragged into the imaginary river, bellowed aloud for help.  The watch came up, seized him, and perceiving him intoxicated, carried him bound to the cauzee.

It happened that the cauzee often privately indulged himself with bang.  Seeing the intoxicated situation of the fisherman, he pitied his condition, and ordered him to be put into a chamber to sleep off his disorder; at the same time saying to himself, “This is a man after my own heart, and to-morrow evening I will enjoy myself with him.”  The fisherman was well taken care of during the day, and at night the cauzee sent for him to his apartment; where, after eating, they took each a powerful dose of bang, which soon operating upon their brains, they began to sing, dance, and commit a thousand extravagancies.

The noise which they made attracted the notice of the sultan, who with his vizier was traversing the city, disguised as merchants.  Finding the doors open, they entered, and beheld the cauzee and his companion in the height of their mirth, who welcomed them, and they sat down.  At length, after many ridiculous tricks, the fisherman starting up, exclaimed, “I am the sultan!” “And I,” rejoined the cauzee, “am my lord the bashaw!” “Bashaw!” continued the fisherman, “if I choose I can strike off thy head.”  “I know it,” returned the cauzee, “but at present I am not worth beheading; give me first a rich government, that I may be worth punishing.”  “Thou sayest true,” answered the fisherman; “I must make thee fat before thou wilt be fit for killing.”

The sultan laughed at their extravagancies, and said to his vizier, “I will amuse myself with these vagabonds to-morrow evening:”  then rising up, he and his minister departed.

The next evening the cauzee and the fisherman indulged themselves as before, and while they were making merry, the sultan and his vizier entered, but in different disguises from those they had worn on the former night.  They brought with them a strong confection of opium, which they presented to their hosts, who, highly delighted, greedily devoured it, and such were the effects that they became madder than ever.  At length, the fisherman starting up, exclaimed, “The sultan is deposed, and I am sovereign in his stead.”  “Suppose the sultan should hear thee,” replied the prince.  “If he opposes me,” cried the fisherman, “I will order my bashaw to strike off his head; but I will now punish thee for thy insolent question.”  He then ran up and seized the sultan by the nose, the cauzee at the same time attacking the vizier:  it was with difficulty that they made their escape from the house.

The sultan, notwithstanding his tweak by the nose, resolved to divert himself further with the bang-eaters, and the next evening putting on a fresh disguise, repaired to the cauzee’s house with his vizier; where he found the happy companions in high glee.  They had taken it into their heads to dance, which they did with such vehemence, and for so long a time, that at length they fell down with fatigue.  When they had rested a little, the fisherman perceiving the sultan, said, “Whence comest thou?” “We are strangers,” replied the sultan, “and only reached this city to-night; but on our way through the streets, hearing your mirth, we made bold to enter, that we might participate it with you.  Are ye not, however, fearful lest the sultan should hear you on his rounds, and punish you for an infringement of the laws?” “How should the sultan hear us?” answered the fisherman; “he is in his palace, and we in our own house, though, perhaps, much merrier than he, poor fellow, with the cares of state upon his mind, notwithstanding his splendour.”

“How comes it,” rejoined the sovereign, “that you have not visited the sultan? for you are merry fellows, and I think he would encourage you.”  “We fear,” replied the fisherman, “his guards would beat us away.”  “Never mind them,” said the sultan; “if you choose I will give you a letter of recommendation, which I am sure he will pay attention to, for we were intimate when youths.”  “Let us have it,” cried the fisherman.  The sultan wrote a note, directed to himself, and departed.

In the morning the cauzee and the fisherman repaired to the palace, and delivered the note to one of the guards, who, on sight of it, placed it on his head, prostrated himself to the ground, and then introduced them to the sultan.  Having read the letter, the sultan commanded them to be led into separate apartments, and to be treated respectfully.  At noon a handsome collation was served up to each, and at sunset a full service, after which they were presented with coffee.  When about two hours of the night had passed, the sultan ordered them into his presence, and on their making their obeisance returned their salutes, and desired them to be seated, saying, “Where is the person who gave you this letter?”

“Mighty sultan,” replied the fisherman, “two men who last night visited our house inquired why we did not repair to your majesty, and partake of your bounty.  We replied, that we feared the guards would drive us away; when one of them gave us this note, saying, ’Fear not; take this recommendation to the sultan, with whom in my youth I was intimate.’  We followed his direction, and have found his words to be true.  We inquired whence they came; but they would not tell us more than that they were strangers in this city.”  “It is,” continued the sultan, “absolutely necessary that you should bring them to my presence, for it is long since I have beheld my old friends.”  “Permit us then to return home, where they may possibly visit us again,” said the fisherman, “and we will oblige them to come with us.”  “How can you do that,” replied the sultan, “when the other evening you could not prevent your guest escaping, though you had him by the nose?”

The poor fisherman, and his companion the cauzee, were now confounded at the discovery that it was the sultan himself who had witnessed their intoxication and ridiculous transports.  They trembled, turned pale, and fell prostrate to the ground, crying, “Pardon, pardon, gracious sovereign, for the offences we have committed, and the insult which in our madness we offered to the sacred person of your majesty.”

The sultan, after laughing heartily at their distress, replied, “Your pardon is granted, for the insult was involuntary, though deserved, as I was an impertinent intruder on your privacy; make yourselves easy, and sit down; but you must each of you relate to me your adventures, or some story that you have heard.”  The cauzee and the fisherman, having recovered from their confusion, obeyed the commands of the sultan, and being seated, the latter related the following tale.

Story of the Bang-eater and His Wife.

There lived formerly, near Bagdad, a half-witted fellow, who was much addicted to the use of bang.  Being reduced to poverty, he was obliged to sell his stock.  One day he went to the market to dispose of a cow; but the animal being in bad order, no one would bid for it, and after waiting till he was weary he returned homewards.  On the way he stopped to repose himself under a tree, and tied the cow to one of the branches while he ate some bread, and drank of an infusion of his beloved bang, which he always carried with him.  In a short time it began to operate, so as to bereave him of the little sense he possessed, and his head was filled with ridiculous reveries.  While he was musing, a magpie beginning to chatter from her nest in the tree, he fancied it was a human voice, and that some woman had asked to purchase his cow:  upon which he said, “Reverend mother of Solomon, dost thou wish to buy my cow?” The bird croaked again.  “Well,” replied he, “what wilt thou give if I will sell her a bargain.”  The bird repeated her croak.  “Never mind,” said the foolish fellow, “for though thou hast forgotten to bring thy purse, yet, as I dare say thou art an honest woman, and hast bidden me ten deenars, I will trust thee with the cow, and call on Friday for the money.”  The bird renewed her croaking, which he fancied to be thanks for his confidence; so leaving the cow tied to the branch of the tree, he returned home exulting in the good bargain he had made for the animal.

When he entered the house, his wife inquired what he had gotten for the cow; to which he replied, that he had sold her to an honest woman named Am Solomon, who had promised to pay him on the next Friday ten pieces of gold.  The wife was contented, and when Friday arrived, her idiot of a husband having, as usual, taken a dose of bang, repaired to the tree, and hearing the bird chattering, as before, said, “Well, my good mother, hast thou brought the gold?” The bird croaked.  Supposing the imaginary woman refused to pay him, he became angry, and threw up his spade, which frightening the bird, it flew from the nest, and alighted on a heap of soil at some distance.  He fancied that Am Solomon had desired him to take his money from the heap, into which he dug with his spade, and found a brazen vessel full of gold coin.  This discovery convinced him he was right, and being, notwithstanding his weakness, naturally honest, he only took ten pieces; then replacing the soil, said, “May Allah requite thee for thy punctuality, good mother!” and returned to his wife, to whom he gave the money, informing her at the same time of the great treasure his friend Am Solomon possessed, and where it was concealed.  The wife waited till night, when she went and brought away the pot of gold; which her husband observing, said, “It is dishonest to rob one who has paid us so punctually, and if thou dost not return it to its place, I will inform the (walee) officer of police.”

The wife laughed at his folly; but fearing the ill consequences of his executing his threat, she planned a stratagem to prevent them.  Going to the market, she purchased some broiled meat and fish ready dressed, which she brought privately home, and concealed in the house.  At night, the husband having regaled himself with his beloved bang, retired to sleep off his intoxication; but about midnight she strewed the provisions she had brought at the door, and awakening her partner, cried out, in pretended astonishment, “Dear husband, a most wonderful phenomenon has occurred; there has been a violent storm while you slept, and, strange to tell, it has rained pieces of broiled meat and fish, which now lie at the door!” The husband, still in a state of stupefaction from the bang, got up, went to the door, and seeing the provisions, was persuaded of the truth of his wife’s story.  The fish and flesh were gathered up, and he partook with much glee of the miraculous treat; but he still threatened to inform the walee of her having stolen the treasure of the good old woman Am Solomon.

In the morning the foolish bang-eater actually repaired to the walee, and informed him that his wife had stolen a pot of gold, which she had still in her possession.  The walee upon this apprehended the woman, who denied the accusation, when she was threatened with death.  She then said, “My lord, the power is in your hands; but I am an injured woman, as you will find by questioning my unfortunate husband; who, alas! is deranged in his intellects.  Ask him when I committed the theft.”  The walee did so; to which he replied, “It was on the evening of that night on which it rained broiled flesh and fish ready dressed.”  “Wretch!” exclaimed the walee, “dost thou dare to utter falsehoods before me?  Who ever saw it rain any thing but water?” “As I hope for life, my lord,” replied the bang-eater, “I speak the truth; for my wife and myself ate of the fish and flesh which fell from the clouds.”  The woman being appealed to, denied the assertion of her husband.

The walee being now convinced that the man was crazy, released his wife, and sent the husband to the madhouse; where he remained some days, till the wife, pitying his condition, contrived to get him released by the following stratagem.  She visited her husband, and desired him when any one inquired of him if he had seen it rain flesh and fish, to answer, “No:  who ever saw it rain any thing but water?” She then informed the keeper that he was come to his senses, and desired him to put the question.  On his answering properly he was released.

The fisherman had not long been in the service of the sultan, when walking one day near the house of a principal merchant, his daughter chanced to look through a window, and the buffoon was so struck with her beauty that he became devoted to love.  Daily did he repair to the same spot for weeks together in hopes of once seeing her, but in vain; for she did not again appear at the window.  At length, his passion had such an effect upon him that he fell sick, kept his bed, and began to rave, exclaiming, “Ah! what charming eyes, what a beautiful complexion, what a graceful stature has my beloved!” In this situation he was attended by an old woman, who, compassionating his case, desired him to reveal the cause of his uneasiness.

“My dear mother,” replied he, “I thank thee for thy kindness; but unless thou canst assist me I must soon die.”  He then related what he had seen, and described to her the house of the merchant.  When she said, “Son, be of good cheer; for no one could so readily have assisted thee in this dilemma as myself.  Have patience, and I will speedily return with intelligence of thy beloved.”  Having spoken thus, she departed, and upon reaching her own house disguised herself as a devotee.  Throwing over her shoulders a coarse woollen gown, holding in one hand a long string of beads, in the other a walking staff, she proceeded to the merchant’s house, at the gate of which she cried, “God is God, there is no God but God; may his holy name be praised, and may God be with you,” in a most devout tone.

The merchant’s daughter, on hearing this devout ejaculation, came to the door, saluted the old woman with great respect, and said, “Dear mother, pray for me:”  when she exclaimed, “May Allah protect thee, my beloved child, from all injury!” The young lady then introduced her into the house, seated her in the most honourable place, and with her mother sat down by her.  They conversed on religious subjects till noon, when the old woman called for water, performed her ablutions, and recited prayers of an unusual length:  upon which the mother and daughter remarked to one another that the aged matron must certainly be a most religious character.  When prayers were ended, they set a collation before her; but she declined partaking, saying, “I am to day observing a fast.”  This increased their respect and admiration of her sanctity, so that they requested her to remain with them till sunset, and break her fast with them, to which she consented.  At sunset she prayed again, after which she ate a little, and then uttered many pious exhortations.  In short, the mother and daughter were so pleased with her, that they invited her to stay all night.  In the morning, she rose early, made her ablutions, prayed for a considerable time, and concluded with a blessing upon her entertainers in learned words, which they could not understand.  When she rose up, they supported her by the arms respectfully, and entreated her longer stay; but she declined it, and having taken leave, departed; promising, however, with the permission of Allah, to make them soon another visit.

On the second day following, the old woman repaired again to the merchant’s house, and was joyfully received by the mother and daughter; who, kissing her hands and feet, welcomed her return.  She behaved the same as before, and inspired them with stronger veneration for her sandity.  Her visits now grew frequent, and she was always a welcome guest in the merchant’s family.  At length, one evening she entered, and said, “I have an only daughter, whose espousals are now celebrating, and this night the bride goes in state to her husband’s house.  My desire is that my good young lady should attend the ceremony, and receive the benefit of my prayers.”  The mother replied, “I am unwilling to let her go, lest some accident should befall her:”  upon which the pretended religious exclaimed, “What canst thou fear, while I and other devout women shall be with her?” The daughter expressing great eagerness to attend the nuptials, her mother at length consented.

When the merchant’s daughter had adorned herself in her richest habit, she accompanied the old woman; who, after leading her through several streets, conducted her to the lodging of the late fisherman, but now favourite to the sultan, who was eagerly expecting her arrival.  The young lady was astonished on her entrance at beholding a comely looking man; who, she saw, could hardly restrain his raptures at the sight of her.  Her first alarm was great at finding herself betrayed into such a snare by the hypocritical beldam; but having naturally much presence of mind, she concealed her fears, and considered how she might escape.  She sat down, and after looking round the apartment affected to laugh, saying to the gallant, “It is commonly usual when a lover invites his mistress to his house to have an entertainment prepared; for what is love without the accompaniment of a feast?  If you wish, therefore, that I should spend the evening here, go and bring in some good cheer, that our joy may be complete.  I will with my good mother wait your return.”

The gallant, rejoiced at her commands, exclaimed, “Thou hast spoken truly, and to hear is to obey;” after which, he went towards the market to order a splendid entertainment.  When he was gone, the young lady locked the door after him, and thanking the old woman for introducing her to so handsome a lover, threw her off her guard, while she walked about the apartment meditating her escape.  At length she found in one corner of it a sharp sabre, and drawing up her sleeve to her elbow, she grasped the weapon, which she struck with such force at her false friend, who was reclining on a sofa, as to cleave the head of the abandoned procuress in two, and she fell down weltering in her blood, to rise no more.

The merchant’s daughter now searched the room, and finding a rich dress which the favourite usually wore when he visited the sultan, rolled it up in a bundle, and carrying it under her veil, unlocked the door, and hastened homewards.  Luckily she reached her father’s house without interruption.  Her mother welcomed her with joy; but on perceiving the bundle, said, “My dear daughter, what can have been given thee at the nuptials of a poor religious?” The daughter, whose mind had been over agitated with her late adventure, was not able to answer; her spirits sunk at the recollection of her narrow escape, and she fainted away.  The mother shrieked aloud with affright, which brought in her husband and attendants, who used various means for the young lady’s recovery; and at length, having regained her senses, she related what had passed.  The merchant having cursed the memory of the old woman for her hypocritical deception, comforted his virtuous daughter, and taking up the dress which he knew, and to whom it belonged, hastened to make his complaint to the sultan.

When the sultan had heard the complaint of the merchant, he was enraged against his unworthy favourite, and commanded him to be apprehended; but he could no where be found, for having on his return home seen the old woman weltering in her blood, he guessed what had happened; and apprehensive of being called to an account, putting on a mean disguise, made his escape from the city.  Fortunately for him a caravan was just taking its departure, and with it he travelled for five days successively, with a mind tortured by disappointed love, and the fear of discovery.  At length the caravan passed the confines of his late master, and encamped before a large city, which he entered, and having hired a room at a caravanserai, he resolved to repose, and seek out for some employment less dangerous than making love, or serving princes.

When he had rested himself for some days, he repaired to a market, where labourers stood to be hired; and had not waited long, when a woman coming up asked if he wanted work, to which he replied in the affirmative.  She then said, “Part of the wall round the court of my house is so much decayed, that I must have it taken down and rebuilt, and if thou art willing to undertake the job I will employ thee.”  On his consenting, she led him to her house, and shewing him the wall, gave him a pick-axe, directing him as he went on to place the stones in one heap and the rubbish in another.  He replied, “To hear is to obey.”  She then brought him some provision and water, when he refreshed himself, and having thanked God that he had escaped, and was able to get his living, began his task, which he continued till sunset.  His employer paid him ten pieces of silver for his day’s work, and he returned contented to his lodging.

The following morning he again went to labour, and was treated with the same kindness as before.  About noon, as he was stocking up the foundation of the wall he found a copper vessel, which upon examination proved to be full of golden coin.  He carried the vessel to his lodging, where he counted the money, upwards of a hundred deenars, and returned to his work.  As he was coming home in the evening, he saw a crowd following a man who carried upon his head a large chest, which he offered for sale at a hundred deenars, but refused to mention the contents.

The fisherman was seized with an irresistible impulse to purchase the chest, and having a small silver coin of not more value than a silver penny, said to himself, “I will try my fate, possibly it may contain something valuable; but if not, I will disregard the disappointment;” ordered it to be conveyed to his lodging, and paid the price demanded.  He then locked his door and opened the chest, when, to his astonishment, he beheld in it a beautiful girl very richly dressed, but apparently lifeless.  However, on putting his hand to her mouth, he perceived that she breathed, and was only in a deep sleep, from which he endeavoured to awake her, but in vain.  He then took her out of the chest, laid her gently on his carpet, and continued to gaze at her charms; till at length about midnight she awoke, and in an exclamation of alarm and surprise exclaimed, “Gracious Allah, where am I?”

When the lady’s first alarm had subsided, she asked the fisherman how he had brought her to his lodging, and on being informed of the circumstances her mind became easy; for he behaved towards her with respectful attention.  Concealing for the present her condition and adventures, she said, “This lodging is too mean, on the morrow you must hire a better.  Serve me with fidelity, do as I desire, and you shall be amply rewarded.”  The fisherman, who, cautioned by his last love adventure, was fearful of taking liberties, and awed by her dignified demeanour, made a profound obeisance, and professed himself her slave.  He set before her the best refreshments he could procure, and when she had supped left her, and retired to sleep in a separate chamber.

Early the next morning he went and hired a decent house, to which he conveyed her in a covered litter, and did not cease to attend upon her in all her commands for twenty days, she supplying him with money to purchase necessaries.

It is proper now to mention, that the lady bought by the fisherman in the chest was the favourite mistress of the sultan:  having deserted for her all his other women, they had become envious; but the sultana, who, before the arrival of Koout al Koolloob (for such was her name) had presided over the haram, was more mortified than the rest, and had resolved to effect her removal.  For this a favourable opportunity soon occurred, owing to the sultan’s departure for twenty days upon a hunting excursion.  In a day or two after his absence, the sultana invited Koout al Koolloob to an entertainment, and having mixed a strong soporific in some sherbet, presented it her to drink.  The effect of the potion was instantaneous, and she sunk into a trance; when the sultana putting her into the chest, commanded it to be given to a broker, and sold without examination of the contents, for a hundred deenars; hoping, that whoever might be the purchaser, he would be so fascinated with the charms of the beautiful Koout al Koolloob, as to enjoy his good fortune in secrecy; and that she should thus get rid of a rival without the crime of assassination.

When the sultan returned from his excursion, immediately on entering the palace he inquired for his favourite; when the sultana entering with affected sadness, said, “Alas! my lord, the beautiful and affectionate Koout al Koolloob, unable to bear the pangs of absence, three days after your departure fell sick, and having lingered for seven days, was gathered to the mercy of the Almighty.”  The sultan, on hearing this, burst into an agony of grief, and exclaimed, “There is no asylum or refuge but with God; from God we came, and to God we must return.”  He was overcome with affliction, and remained the whole night involved in melancholy.  In the morning he sent for his vizier, and commanded him to look out for a spot on the bank of the river for the erection of a building in which he might sit retired, and meditate on his beloved Koout al Koolloob.

The vizier replied, “To hear is to obey;” and taking with him an architect, fixed upon a pleasant spot, on which he ordered him to mark out a space of ninety yards in length and seventy in breadth for the intended building.  The necessary materials, of stone and marbles, were soon collected, and the work was begun upon; which the minister for two days superintended in person.  On the third the sultan came to view the progress.  He approved of the plan, and said, “It is truly beautiful; but, alas! only worthy of the residence of Koout al Koolloob;” after which he wept bitterly.  Seeing the distress of the sultan, his vizier said, “My lord, be resigned under distress; for the wise have written, Be moderate when prosperity occurs, and when calamity afflicts thee exercise patience.’”

The sultan replied, “It is true, O vizier, that resignation is praiseworthy, and impatience blamable; for a poet has justly said, ’Be calm under adversity; for calmness can alone extricate from danger.’  To affliction joy often succeeds, and after trouble we generally enjoy repose; but, alas! human nature cannot divest itself of feeling; and Koout al Koolloob was so dear to me, and so delighted my soul, that I dread I shall never find another mistress her equal in beauty and accomplishments.”  The vizier consoled his master, and at length prevailed upon him to submit to his misfortune with some degree of resignation.

The sultan and vizier daily repaired to view the progress of the new edifice, the report of which had spread through the city, and at length reached Koout al Koolloob, who said to the fisherman, “We are every day expending our money, and getting nothing:  suppose, therefore, you seek employment in the building which the sultan is erecting.  Report says that he is liberal, so that possibly advantage may accrue.”  The fisherman replied, “My dear mistress, how shall I bear the least absence from you?” for he loved her, and she perceiving it, often dreaded that he would have made advances; but the remembrance of what he had endured from the conduct of the merchant’s daughter had made him cautious.  She replied, “Dost thou really love me?” “Canst thou doubt it?” answered he; “thou art my life, and the light of my eyes!” “If so,” exclaimed she, “take this necklace, and when you think of me as you are working, look at it, and it will console you till your return home.”

The fisherman obeyed the commands of Koout al Koolloob, repaired to the spot where the edifice was erecting, and beheld the sultan and vizier observing the workmen.  The former inquired if he wanted employment, to which he replied in the affirmative, and was hired.  He began his labour; but so much was his mind engaged with his mistress, that every now and then, dropping his implements, he drew out the necklace, and looking upon it heaved a deep sigh, which the sultan observing, said to his vizier, “This man, perchance, is more unhappy than myself; let us call him to us, and inquire into his circumstances.”  The vizier brought him to the presence, and desired him to tell honestly why he had sighed so deeply.  “Alas!” replied he, “I am absent from my beloved, who gave me this necklace to look at whenever I might think upon her; and my mind is so taken up with her, that I cannot help laying down my tools, and admiring it constantly.”

When the sultan saw the necklace, he recollected that it was one which he had purchased for Koout al Koolloob for a thousand deenars.  He concealed his agitation, and said, “To whom does this necklace belong?” “To my slave,” replied the labourer, “whom I purchased for a hundred deenars.”  “Canst thou admit us to thy lodging,” rejoined the sultan, “that we may see her?” “I dread,” answered the labourer, “that her modesty may be offended; but I will consult her, and if she assents, I will invite you to my lodging.”  “That is but just,” said the sultan, “and no more than what is proper.”

The labourer at sunset returned home, and informed Koout al Koolloob of his adventure, when she desired him on the morrow to purchase what was requisite for a decent entertainment, at the same time giving him five deenars.  In the morning he bought what she had desired, and going to his work, informed the sultan and vizier that they were welcome to his homely fare, and to see his slave; or rather, said he, “My divinity, for as such I have at humble distance adored her.”

The sultan and vizier accompanied the labourer to his house where they were astonished to find prepared an elegant collation, of which they partook; after which they drank sherbet and coffee.  The sultan then desired to see his slave, who just made her appearance, but retired immediately.  However, the sultan knew her; and said to the labourer, “Wilt thou dispose of this damsel?” “I cannot, my lord,” replied the labourer, “for my soul is wholly occupied with her love, though as yet unreturned.”  “May thy love be rewarded!” exclaimed the sultan; “but bring her with thee at sunset to the palace.”  “To hear is to obey,” replied the labourer.

At sunset the labourer conducted his slave to the palace, when the eunuchs attended, and would have led her into the haram; but he clung round her, and exclaimed, “She is my beloved, and I cannot part with her.”  Upon this the sultan related the circumstances of his having lost her; and requested him to give her up.  Knowing that he durst not oppose the sovereign, he submitted to his commands with resignation, when the sultan presented him with fifteen hundred deenars, and a beautiful slave, also a rich dress, at the same time receiving him among the most distinguished of his officers.  So well did he conduct himself in his new station, that in a short time he was promoted to the rank of prime minister, and fulfilled the duties of it with such ability and integrity, that he became celebrated by the title of the Just Vizier.

Such was the celebrity of the vizier’s decisions, that in a short time appeals were made from the most distant provinces to his judgment.  One of the most remarkable cases was the following.  Two women belonging to one man conceived on the same day, and were delivered, one of a boy, the other of a girl, at the same time, and in one apartment.  The female infant died, when each laid claim to the male child.  The magistrates, unable to decide between the mothers, referred the decision to the just vizier; who, on hearing the circumstances, commanded two eggs to be brought, and the contents to be drawn out without breaking the shells; after which he ordered them to be filled with milk from the breast of each woman.  This being done, he placed the shells in separate scales, and finding one outweigh the other, declared that she whose milk was heaviest must be the mother of the male child; but the other woman was not satisfied with this decision, and still affirmed she was the mother of the boy.

The vizier, vexed at her obstinacy, now commanded the infant to be cut in two; when she, whom he had said was the mother, fell into agonies, and besought its life; but the other was unmoved, and assented to the death of the child.  He then ordered her to be severely punished, and committed the boy to its afflicted mother.  On being asked on what proofs he had grounded his decision, he replied, “On two:  the first, because the milk of a woman having produced a male child is always heavier than that of the mother of a female infant:  the second, because the pretended mother consented to the boy’s death; and I supposed it impossible for a woman to agree to the destruction of her offspring, which is a part of herself.”

The sultan and the traveller Mhamood al
Hyjemmee.

There was a sultan, who one evening being somewhat low-spirited, sent for his vizier, and said, “I know not the cause, but my mind is uneasy, and I want something to divert it.”  “If so,” replied the vizier, “I have a friend, named Mhamood al Hyjemmee, a celebrated traveller, who has witnessed many wonderful occurrences, and can relate a variety of astonishing narratives.  Shall I send for him to the presence?” “By all means,” answered the sultan, “that I may hear his relations.”  The minister departed, and informed his friend that the sultan desired to see him.  “To hear is to obey,” replied Mhamood, and hastened with the vizier to the palace.

When they had entered the palace, Mhamood made the obeisance usual to the caliphs, and uttered a poetical invocation for the prosperity of the sultan, who returned his salute; and after desiring him to be seated, said, “Mhamood, my mind is uneasy, and as I hear you are acquainted with many curious events, I wish you to relate some of them to amuse me.”  Mhamood replied, “To hear is to obey;” and thus began an adventure of his own.

The Koord Robber.

Some years ago I took a journey from my own country to the land of Yemen, accompanied by a slave, who was a lad of much ready wit, and who carried a wallet containing a few necessaries.  As we were entering a town, a rascally koord snatched the wallet from his hands, and asserted that it was his own, which we had stolen from him:  upon which, I called out to some passengers to assist me in the recovery of my property, and they helped me to carry the sharper before the cauzee, to whom I complained of his assault.  The magistrate asked the koord what he had to allege in his defence; to which he replied, “My lord, I lost this wallet some days since, and found it in possession of the complainant, who pretends that it is his own, and will not resign it.”  “If it be thine,” rejoined the cauzee, “describe to me what it contains, when I shall be satisfied that thou speakest the truth.”

The koord assented, and with a loud voice cried out, “In this wallet, my lord, are two chests, in which are collyrium for the eyes, a number of rich napkins, drinking vessels of gold, lamps, cooking utensils, dishes, basins, and ewers; also bales of merchandize, jewels, gold, silks, and other precious articles, with a variety of wearing apparel, carpets, cushions, eating cloths, and other things too tedious to enumerate; besides, I can bring a number of my brother koords to testify to the truth of what I have said, and that the wallet is mine.”

When the koord had finished, the cauzee smiled, and asked me and my slave what we could describe to be in the wallet:  upon which, my slave said, “My lord, there is nothing in it of what the koord has mentioned, for it contains only both worlds, with all their lands, seas, cities, habitations, men, animals, and productions of every kind.”  The cauzee laughed, and turning to the koord, said, “Friend, thou hast heard what has past; what further canst thou say?” “The bag is mine,” continued the koord:  upon which, the cauzee ordered it to be emptied; when, lo! there were found in it some cakes of bread, a few limes, a little pepper, and a cruet of oil.  Seeing this, the koord exclaimed, “Pardon me, my lord the cauzee, I have been mistaken, the wallet is not mine; but I must away and search for the thief who has stolen my valuable property.”  Having said this, he ran off, leaving the cauzee, myself, and the spectators bursting with laughter at his impudent knavery.

The sultan was much diverted with the relation of Mhamood, and requested him to relate another story, which he did as follows.

Story of the Husbandman.

A certain husbandman having reared some choice vegetables and fruits earlier than usual, resolved to present them to the sultan, in hopes of receiving a handsome present.  He accordingly loaded his ass and set off for the capital, on the road to which he met the sultan, whom he had never before seen; and who being on a hunting excursion had separated from his attendants.  The sultan inquired where he was going, and what he carried.  “I am repairing,” said the husbandman, “to our lord the sultan, in hopes that he will reward me with a handsome price for my fruits and vegetables, which I have reared earlier than usual.”  “What dost thou mean to ask him?” replied the sultan.  “A thousand deenars,” answered the husbandman; “which if he refuses to give, I will demand five hundred; should he think that sum too much, I will come down to two hundred; and if he declines to give so much, I will ask thirty deenars, from which price I will not depart.”

The sultan now left the husbandman, and hastening to the city, entered the palace, where the latter soon after arrived with his fruits, and was introduced to the presence.  Having made his obeisance, the sultan returning his salute, said, “Father, what hast thou brought with thee?” “Fruits, reared earlier than usual,” answered the husbandman:  to which the sultan replied, “They are acceptable,” and uncovering them, sent a part by the eunuchs into his haram, and distributed the rest to his courtiers, excepting a few which he ate himself, talking all the while to the countryman, whose sensible remarks gave him much pleasure.  He presented him with two hundred deenars, and the ladies of the haram sent him a present of half that sum.  The sultan then desired him to return home, give the money to his family, and come back with speed, as he wished to enjoy his conversation.  The husbandman having replied, “To hear is to obey,” blessed the sultan for his bounty, and hastening home gave the deenars to his wife, informing her that he was invited to spend the evening at court, and took his leave.  It was sunset when he arrived at the palace, and the sultan being at his evening meal invited him to partake.  When they were satisfied, they performed their ablutions, and having said the evening prayer, and read a portion of the Koraun, the sultan, desiring him to be seated, commanded the husbandman to relate him some narrative.  The husbandman being seated, thus began.

Story of the Three Princes and Enchanting Bird.

It has been lately related that there was formerly a sovereign of the East who had three sons, the eldest of whom had heard some traveller describe a particular country where there was a bird called Bulbul al Syach, who transformed any passenger who came near him into stone.  The prince resolved to see this wonderful bird; and requested leave to travel from his father, who endeavoured in vain to divert him from his purpose.  He took leave, and on his departure, pulling off a ring set with a magical gem, gave it to his second brother, saying, “Whenever you perceive this ring press hard upon your finger, be assured that I am lost beyond recovery.”  Having begun his journey, he did not cease travelling till he reached the spot where was the bird’s cage, in which it used to pass the night, but in the daytime it flew about for exercise and food.

It was the custom of the bird to return about sunset to the cage; when, if it perceived any person near, it would cry out in a plaintive tone, “Who will say to a poor wanderer, Lodge? who will say to an unhappy Bulbul, Lodge?” and if the person replied, “Lodge, poor bird!” it immediately hovered over his head, and scattering upon him some earth from its bill, the person became transformed into a stone.  Such proved the fate of the unfortunate prince.

The transformation of the eldest prince had no sooner taken place than the ring pressed hard upon the finger of the second, who exclaimed, “Alas! alas! my brother is lost; but I will travel, and endeavour to find out his condition.”  It was in vain that the sultan his father, and the sultana his mother, remonstrated.  He departed after he had delivered the magical ring to his younger brother, and journeyed till he reached the cage of the bird; who having ensnared him to pronounce the word lodge, scattered some earth upon his head, when he, also, immediately became transformed into stone.

At this instant the youngest prince was sitting at a banquet with his father; when the ring pressed so hard to his finger, as to put him to much pain.  He rose up, and exclaimed, “There is no refuge or asylum but with God; for his we are, and to him we must return.”  The sultan, upon this, inquired the cause of his grief; when he said, “My brother has perished.”

The old sultan was loudly lamenting the loss of his two children, when the youngest continued, “I will travel and learn the fate of my brothers.”  “Alas!” said the father, “is it not enough that I have lost them, but thou also wilt rush into destruction?  I entreat thee not to leave me.”  “Father,” replied the prince, “fate impels me to search for my brothers, whom, perhaps, I may recover; but if I fail, I shall only have done my duty.”  Having said this, he departed, in spite of the tears and lamentations of his parents, and travelled till he had reached the residence of the bird; where he found his brothers transformed into images of stone.  At sunset the bird began its usual tone; but the prince suspecting some deceit, forbore to speak, till at length the Bulbul retired to his cage, and fell asleep; when watching the opportunity, the prince darted upon it, and fastened the door.  The bird awoke at the noise, and seeing himself caught, said, “Thou hast won the prize, O glorious son of a mighty sultan!” “If so,” exclaimed the prince, “inform me by what means thou hast enchanted so many persons as I see around me changed into images of marble, and how I may release them from their unhappy state.”  “Behold,” replied the bird, “yonder two heaps of earth, one white and the other blue.  The blue enchants, and the other will recover from transformation.”

The prince immediately took up handfuls of the white earth, and scattering it over the numerous images, they instantly became animated and restored to all their functions.  He embraced his two brothers, and received their thanks; also those of the sons of many sultans, bashaws, and great personages, for giving them new life.  They informed him that near the spot was a city, all the inhabitants of which had been, like them, transformed into stone.  To this he repaired, and having relieved them from their enchantment, the people out of gratitude made him rich presents, and would have chosen him for their sovereign, but he declined their offer, and resolved to conduct his brothers in safety to their father.

The two elder princes, notwithstanding they owed the restoration of their lives to their brother, became envious of the valuable presents he had received, and of the fame he would acquire at home for his achievement.  They said to one another, “When we reach the capital the people will applaud him, and say, ’Lo! the two elder brothers have been rescued from destruction by the youngest.’”

The youngest prince being supplied with horses, camels, and carriages, for himself and companions, began his march homewards, and proceeded by easy stages towards the capital of his father; within one day’s journey of which was a reservoir of water lined with marble.  On the brink of this he ordered his tents to be pitched, resolving to pass the night and enjoy himself in feasting with his brothers.  An elegant entertainment was prepared, and he sat with them till it was time to repose; when they retired to their tents, and he lay down to sleep, having on his finger a ring, which he had found in the cage of the Bulbul.

The envious brothers thinking this a fit opportunity to destroy their generous preserver, arose in the dead of night, and taking up the prince, cast him into the reservoir, and escaped to their tents undiscovered.  In the morning they issued orders of march, the tents were struck, and the camels loaded; but the attendants missing the youngest prince, inquired after him; to which the brothers replied, that being asleep in his tent, they were unwilling to disturb him.  This satisfied them, and having pursued their march they reached the capital of their father, who was overjoyed at their return, and admired the beauty of the Bulbul, which they had carried with them; but he inquired with eagerness what was become of their brother.

The brothers replied, “We know nothing of him, and did not till now hear of his departure in search of the bird, which we have brought with us.”  The sultan dearly loved his youngest son; and on hearing that his brothers had not seen him, beat his hands together, exclaiming, “Alas! alas! there is no refuge or asylum but with the Almighty, from whom we came, and to whom we must return.”

We must now return to the youngest brother.  When he was cast into the reservoir he awoke, and finding himself in danger, exclaimed, “I seek deliverance from that God who relieveth his servants from the snares of the wicked.”  His prayer was heard, and he reached the bottom of the reservoir unhurt; where he seated himself on a ledge, when he heard persons talking.  One said to another, “Some son of man is near.”  “Yes,” replied the other, “he is the youngest son of our virtuous sultan; who, after having delivered his two brothers from enchantment, hath been treacherously cast into this reservoir.”  “Well,” answered the first voice, “he may easily escape, for he has a ring upon his finger, which if he will rub a genie will appear to him and perform whatever he may command.”

The prince no sooner heard these words than he rubbed his hand over the ring, when a good genie appearing, said, “Prince, what are thy commands?”

“I command,” replied the prince, “that thou instantly prepare me tents, camels, domestics, guards, and every thing suitable to my condition.”  “All is ready,” answered the genie; who, at the same instant taking him from the ledge, conducted him into a splendid encampment, where the troops received him with acclamations.  He ordered signals of march to be sounded, and proceeded towards the capital of his father.  When he had arrived near the city, he commanded his tents to be pitched on the plain.  Immediately his orders were obeyed, the tents were raised (a most magnificent one for himself), before which the servants raised a gorgeous awning, and sprinkled water to lay the dust.  The cooks lighted their fires, and a great smoke ascended, which filled the plain.

The inhabitants of the city were astonished at the approach of the army, and when they saw the encampment pitched, supposed it to be that of a powerful enemy preparing for assaulting them.  Intelligence of this unexpected host was conveyed to the sultan; who, on hearing it, instead of alarm, felt a pleasure which he could not account for, and said, “Gracious Allah! my heart is filled with delight; but why I know not.”  Immediately he commanded his suite to attend, and repaired to the encampment of his son, to whom he was introduced; but the prince being habited very richly, and differently from what he had seen him in, was not known by the sultan.

The prince received his father with the honours due to his rank, and when they were seated, and had entered into conversation, said, “What is become of thy youngest son?” The words were scarcely uttered, when the old sultan fell fainting to the earth.  On his recovery, he exclaimed, “Alas! my son’s imprudence led him to travel, and he has fallen a prey to the beasts of the forest.”  “Be comforted,” replied the prince; “the disasters of fortune have not reached thy son, for he is alive and in health.”  “Is it possible?” cried the sultan; “ah! tell me where I shall find him!” “He is before thee,” replied the prince:  upon which, the sultan looking more closely, knew him, fell upon his neck, wept, and sunk to the earth overpowered with ecstacy.

When the sultan had recovered, he desired his son to relate his adventures, which he did from first to last.  Just as he had finished the elder brothers arrived, and seeing him in such splendour, hung down their heads, abashed and unable to speak; but yet more envious than ever.  The old sultan would have put them to death for their treachery, but the youngest prince said, “Let us leave them to the Almighty, for whoever commits sin will meet its punishment in himself.”

When the husbandman had concluded the above story, the sultan was so highly pleased that he presented him with a large sum of money, and a beautiful slave, inquiring at the same time if he could divert him with another story, to which he replied in the affirmative.

On another night, when the sultan and the countryman had sat down to converse, the former desired him to relate some ancient story, when the latter began as follows.

Story of a Sultan of Yemen and his three Sons.

It has been related, that in the kingdom of Yemen there was a sultan who had three sons, two of whom were born of the same mother, and the third of another wife, with whom becoming disgusted from some caprice, and having degraded her to the station of a domestic, he suffered her and her son to live unnoticed among the servants of the haram.  The two former, one day, addressed their father, requesting his permission to hunt:  upon which he presented them each with a horse of true blood, richly caparisoned, and ordered proper domestics to attend them to the chase.

When they had departed, the unfortunate youngest brother repaired to his unhappy mother, and expressed his wishes to enjoy, like the elder princes, the pleasures of the field.  “My son,” replied she, “it is not in my power to procure thee a horse or other necessaries.”  Upon this he wept bitterly; when she gave him some of her silver ornaments, which he took, and having sold them, with the price purchased a foundered steed.  Having mounted it, and provided himself with some bread, he followed the track of his brothers for two days, but on the third lost his way.  After wandering two days more he beheld upon the plain a string of emeralds and pearls, which shone with great lustre.  Having taken it up, he wreathed it round his turban, and returned homewards exulting in his prize; but when he had arrived near the city his brothers met him, pulled him from his horse, beat him, and forced it from him.  He excelled them both in prowess and vigour, but he was fearful of the sultan’s displeasure, and his mother’s safety, should he punish his insulters.  He therefore submitted to the indignity and loss, and retired.

The two cowardly princes entered the palace, and presented the string of jewels to the sultan; who, after admiring it, said, “I shall not rest satisfied till the bird arrives to whom this certainly must have belonged:”  upon which the brothers replied, “We will travel in search of it, and bring it to our august father and sultan.”

Preparations being made, the brothers departed, and the youngest prince having mounted his lame steed followed them.  After three days’ journey he reached an arid desert, which having passed over by great exertion, he arrived almost exhausted at a city; which on entering he found resounding with the shrieks of lamentation and woe.  At length he met with a venerable old man, to whom having made a respectful salute, he inquired of him the cause of such universal mourning.  “My son,” replied the old man, “on a certain day during the last forty-three years, a terrible monster has appeared before our city, demanding a beautiful virgin to be delivered up to him, threatening to destroy it in case of refusal.  Unable to defend ourselves, we have complied with his demand, and the damsels of the city have drawn lots for the dreadful sacrifice; but this year the chance has fallen upon the beautiful daughter of our sultan.  This is the day of the monster’s usual arrival, and we are involved in universal lamentation for her unhappy fate.”

When the young prince heard the above, he, under the direction of the old man, repaired to the place of the monster’s resort, resolved to conquer him or die.  Scarcely had he reached it, when the princess approached it, splendidly habited, but with a dejected head, and drowned in tears.  He made a respectful salute, which she returned, saying, “Hasten, young man, from this spot, for a monster will soon appear, to whom, by my unhappy fate, I am destined.  Should he discover thee, he will tear thee in pieces.”  “Princess,” replied he, “I know the circumstance, and am resolved to become a ransom for thy beauty.”

The prince had hardly uttered these words, when a column of dust arose; from which with dreadful howlings and fury the monster issued, lashing his gigantic sides with his thick tail.  The princess shrieked, and wept in the agonies of fear; but the prince drawing his sabre, put himself in the way of the savage monster; who, enraged, snorted fire from his wide nostrils, and made a spring at the prince.  The gallant youth with wonderful agility evaded his talons, and darting from side to side of the monster, watched his opportunity, till rushing upon him, he cleft his head asunder just between his eyes, when the huge creature fell down and growled his last in a tremendous roar.

The princess, on seeing the monster expire, ran to her deliverer, wiped the dust and sweat from his face with her veil, uttering grateful thanks, to which he replied, “Return to thy lamenting parents;” but she would not, and said, “My lord, and light of my eyes, thou must be mine and I thine.”  “That is perhaps impossible,” rejoined the prince; and hastening from her, he returned to the city, where he took up his lodging in an obscure corner.  She now repaired to the palace.  On her entrance, the sultan and her mother were astonished, and inquired in alarm the cause of her return; fearing that she had escaped from the monster, who would in revenge destroy the city.

The princess related the story of her deliverance by a handsome youth:  upon which, the sultan, with his attendants, and most of the inhabitants of the place, repaired to view the monster, whom they found extended dead on the earth.  The whole city was now filled with grateful thanksgivings and universal rejoicing.  The sultan, eager to shew his gratitude to the gallant youth, said to the princess, “Shouldst thou know thy deliverer wert thou to see him again?” “Certainly!” replied she; for love had impressed his image on her mind too strongly to be ever erased.

The sultan, upon this, issued a proclamation, commanding every male in the city to pass under the windows of his daughter’s apartment; which was done successively for three days; but she did not recognize her beloved champion.  The sultan then inquired if all the men of the city had obeyed his commands, and was informed that all had done so, except a young man at a certain serai, who was a foreigner, and therefore had not attended.  The sultan ordered him to appear; and he had no sooner approached the window than the princess threw down upon his head an embroidered handkerchief, exclaiming, “This is our deliverer from the fangs of the monster.”

The sultan now ordered the young prince to be introduced to his presence, to which he advanced, making the obeisances customary to royal personages in a graceful manner.  “Art thou the destroyer of the monster?” exclaimed the sultan.  “I am,” answered the prince.  “Tell me how I can reward thee?” replied the sultan.  “My request to God and your majesty,” answered the prince, “is, that the princess thy daughter may be given me in marriage.”  “Rather ask me a portion of my treasures,” rejoined the sultan.  Upon this, the officers of the court observed, that as he had saved the princess from death, he was worthy of her; and the sultan at length consenting, the marriage knot was tied.  The young prince received his bride, and the nuptials were consummated.  Towards the close of night he arose, and having taken off her ring, put his own in its room on her finger, and wrote upon the palm of her hand, “I am called Alla ad Deen, the son of a potent sultan, who rules in Yemen; if thou canst come to me there, well; otherwise remain with thy father.”

When the prince had done as above related, he left his bride asleep, and quitting the palace and city, pursued his travels; during which he married another wife, whom he had saved from an elephant in a similar way:  he left her in the same manner as the first.

When the prince had left his second wife, he proceeded in search of the bird to whom the string of emeralds and pearls had belonged, and at length reached the city of its mistress, who was daughter to the sultan, a very powerful monarch.  Having entered the capital, he walked through several streets, till at last he perceived a venerable old man, whose age seemed to be, at least, that of a hundred years, sitting alone.  He approached him, and having paid his respects, sat down, and entering into conversation, at length said, “Canst thou, my uncle, afford me any information respecting a bird, whose chain is composed of pearls and emeralds, or of its mistress?”

The old man remained silent, involved in thought, for some instants; after which, he said, “My son, many sultans and princes have wished to attain this bird and the princess, but failed in the attempt; however, do thou procure seven lambs, kill them, flay and cut them up into halves.  In the palace are eight courts, at the gates of seven of which are placed two hungry lions; and in the latter, where the princess resides, are stationed forty slaves.  Go, and try thy fortune.”

The prince having thanked the old man, took his leave, procured the lambs, cut them up as directed, and towards midnight, when the step of man had ceased from passing, repaired to the first gate of the palace, before which he beheld two monstrous lions, their eyes flaming like the mouth of a lighted oven.  He cast before each half a lamb, and while they were devouring it passed on.  By the same stratagem he arrived safely into the eighth court:  at the gate of which lay the forty slaves sunk in profound sleep.  He entered cautiously, and beheld the princess in a magnificent hall, reposing on a splendid bed; near which hung her bird in a cage of gold wire strung with valuable jewels.  He approached gently, and wrote upon the palm of her hand, “I am Alla ad Deen, son of a sultan of Yemen.  I have seen thee sleeping, and taken away thy bird.  Shouldst thou love me, or wish to recover thy favourite, come to my father’s capital.”  He then departed from the palace, and having reached the plain, stopped to repose till morning.

The prince being refreshed, at day-light having invoked Allah to protect him from discovery, travelled till sunset, when he discovered an Arab encampment, to which he repaired and requested shelter.  His petition was readily attended to by the chief; who seeing him in possession of the bird, which he knew, said to himself, “This young man must be a favourite of heaven, or he could not have obtained a prize for which so many potent sultans, princes, and viziers, have vainly fallen sacrifices.”  He entertained him with hospitality, but asked no questions, and in the morning dismissed him with prayers for his welfare, and a present of a beautiful horse.  Alla ad Deen having thanked his generous host took leave, and proceeded unceasingly till he arrived within sight of his father’s capital.  On the plain he was again overtaken by his two brothers, returning from their unsuccessful expedition, who seeing the bird and splendid cage in his possession, dragged him suddenly from his horse, beat him cruelly, and left him.  They entered the city, and presenting the cage to their father, framed an artful tale of danger and escapes that they had undergone in procuring it; on hearing which, the sultan loaded them with caresses and praises, while the unfortunate Alla ad Deen retired bruised and melancholy to his unhappy mother.

The young prince informed his mother of his adventures, complained heavily of his loss, and expressed his resolves to be revenged upon his envious brothers.  She comforted him, entreated him to be patient, and wait for the dispensations of Allah; who, in proper season, would shew his power in the revealment of justice.  We now return to the princess who had lost her bird.

When she awoke in the morning, and missed her bird, she was alarmed; but on perceiving what was written upon her palm still more so.  She shrieked aloud; her attendants ran in, and finding her in a frantic state, informed the sultan; who, anxious for her safety, hastened to the apartment.  The princess being somewhat recovered, related the loss of her bird, shewed the writing on her hand, and declared that she would marry no one but him who had seen her asleep.  The sultan finding remonstrances vain, agreed to accompany his daughter in search of the prince, and issued orders for his army to prepare for a march to Yemen.

When the troops were assembled, the sultan conducted his daughter to the camp, and on the day following marched; the princess with her ladies being conveyed in magnificent equipages.  No halt was made till the army arrived near the city, where Alia ad Deen had delivered the daughter of its sultan by killing the elephant.  A friendly ambassador being dispatched to request permission to encamp and purchase a supply of provisions, he was honourably received, and the sultan of the city proceeded in great pomp to visit his brother monarch, who then informed him of the object of his expedition.  This convinced the other sultan that the stealer of the bird must also have been the deliverer of his daughter, and he resolved to join in the search.  Accordingly, after three days of splendid entertainments and rejoicings, the two sultans, with the two princesses, and their united forces, moved towards Yemen.  Their route lay through the capital, the daughter of whose sultan Alla ad Deen had saved from the fangs of the savage monster.

On the arrival of the allies at this city an explanation similar to the last took place, and the third sultan resolved to accompany them in search of the husband of his daughter, who readily agreed to join the other princesses.  They marched; and on the route the princess who had lost her bird was fully informed by the others of the beauty, prowess, and manly vigour of Alla ad Deen; which involved her more than ever in anxious impatience to meet him.  At length, by continued and uninterrupted movements, the three sultans reached Yemen, and pitched their encampments about sunset on a verdant plain well watered, near the capital.

It was with much dread and apprehension that the sultan of Yemen beheld such a numerous host encamped so near his residence; but he concealed his fears, and gave proper orders for securing it from surprise during the night.  With the morning his alarms were removed, as the allied sultans dispatched an ambassador with rich presents, assurances that they had no hostile intentions, and a request that he would honour them by a visit to their camp, and furnish it with supplies.  The sultan complied with the invitation, and the suite being prepared, he proceeded, attended by all his courtiers in the highest magnificence, to the encampment; where he was received with due honours.  At the outposts the three sultans met him, and after the usual greetings of ceremony conducted him to a splendid tent made of crimson velvet, the fringes and ropes of which were composed of gold threads, the pins of solid silver, and the lining of the richest silver tissue, embroidered with flowers of raised work in silks of all colours, intermixed with foils and gold.  It was covered with superb carpets, and at the upper end on a platform spread with gold brocade were placed four stools, the coverings of which, and the cushions, were magnificent beyond description, being made of Persian velvet, fringed and flowered with costly pearls.

When the four sultans were seated, and some conversation had taken place, in which the latter was informed of the occasion of the others having marched into his country, the cloth was spread, and a magnificent entertainment served up in dishes of agate, crystal, and gold.  The basins and ewers for washing were of pure gold set with jewels.  Such was the richness of every thing, that the sultan with difficulty refrained from shewing his surprise, and inwardly exclaimed, “By Allah, till now I never have beheld such a profusion of splendour, elegance, and valuable furniture!” When the meal was ended, coffee, various sorts of confections, and sherbets were brought in; after which the company conversed.  The three sultans inquired of their royal guest if he had any children, to which he replied that he had two sons.

The sultans then requested that he would send for them:  upon which, their father dispatched a messenger to summon them to his presence.  They repaired to the camp, mounted on chargers richly caparisoned, and most splendidly dressed.  On their entering the tent, the princesses, who were seated in a recess concealed from view by blinds of gold wire, gazed eagerly at them; and she who had lost her bird inquired of the other two if either of them was their husband.  They replied in the negative, remarking that he was of personal beauty, and dignified appearance, far superior to these princes.  The three sultans, also, questioned their daughters on the subject, and received similar answers.

The sultans, upon this, inquired of the father of the princes if he had any other sons; to which he replied that he had one; but that he had long rejected him, and also his mother, from notice; and that they lived among the domestics of the palace.  The sultans entreated to see him, and he was introduced, but in a mean habit.  The two princesses whom he had delivered from the monsters and married immediately recognized him, and exclaimed together, “This is truly our beloved husband!” He was then embraced by the sultans, and admitted to his wives; who fell upon his neck in transports of joy and rapture, kissing him between his eyes, while the princess who had lost the bird prostrated herself before him, covered with a veil, and kissed his hand.

After this scene the young prince returned to his father, and the other sultans, who received him respectfully, and seated him by them, at which the father was astonished; but more so, when, turning to his brothers, he addressed them, saying, “Which of you first found the string of emeralds and pearls?” To this they made no reply:  when he continued, “Who of you killed the monster, destroyed the elephant, or, fortifying his mind, dared to enter the palace of this sultan, and bring away the cage with the bird?  When you both, coward-like, rushed upon me, robbed me of my prizes, and wounded me, I could easily have overcome you; but I felt that there was a season appointed by Providence for justice upon you and my wretched father, who rejected my mother and myself, depriving us of our just claims.”  Having thus spoken, he drew his sabre, and rushing upon the two guilty princes struck them dead, each at one blow.  He would, in his rage, have attacked his father; but the sultans prevented him, and having reconciled them, the old sultan promised to leave him his heir, and to restore his mother to her former rank and consequence.  His nuptials with the third princess were then celebrated; and their fathers, after participating for forty days in the magnificent entertainments given on the occasion, took leave, and returned to their several kingdoms.  The old sultan finding himself, from age, incapable of the cares of government, resigned the throne to his son, whose authority was gladly submitted to by the people, who admired his prowess and gallantry.

Some time after his accession to the kingdom, attended only by some select courtiers, and without the cumbrous appendages of royalty, he left his capital upon a hunting excursion.  In the course of the sport, passing over a desert plain, he came to a spot where was the opening of a cave, into which he entered, and observed domestic utensils and other marks of its being inhabited; but no one was then within it.

The curiosity of the sultan being excited, he resolved to wait until the owners of the cave should appear, and cautioned his attendants not to mention his rank.  He had not sat long, when a man was seen advancing with a load of provisions and two skins of water.  On his coming to the mouth of the cave, the sultan addressed him, saying, “Whence comest thou, where art thou going, and what dost thou carry?” “I am,” replied the man, “one of three companions, who inhabit this cave, having fled from our city to avoid imprisonment, and every ten days one of us goes to purchase provisions:  to-day was my turn, and my friends will be here presently.”  “What was the cause of your flight?” rejoined the sultan.  “As to that,” answered the man, “it can only be communicated by the relation of our adventures, which are curious, and if you wish to hear them, stay with us to-night, and we will each, in our turn, relate his own story.”

The sultan upon this, said to himself, “I will not move from this spot until I have heard their adventures;” and immediately dispatched his attendants, excepting a few, with orders to bring from the city some necessaries for the night.  “For,” thought he, “hearing these stories will be pleasanter than hunting, as they may, perhaps, inform my mind.”  He remained in the cave with his few followers; and soon after arrived the two other inmates, who were succeeded by the sultan’s messengers with the requisites for a substantial repast, of which all partook without ceremony.  When it was finished, the sultan desired the owners of the cave to relate their adventures; and they replied, “To hear is to obey:”  the first beginning as follows.

Story of the First Sharper in the Cave.

My father died when I was a youth, leaving my mother and myself with little property, but an old she-goat, which we sold, and with the price bought a calf, and nourished her as well as we could for a whole year; when my mother desired me to go and dispose of her in the market.  Accordingly I went, and soon perceived that there was not a fatter or finer beast in the market.  The company of butchers, composed of forty persons, fixed their eyes upon the calf, and supposing me an ignorant lad, resolved to have her for little or nothing, and feast themselves upon her flesh.  After concerting among themselves, one of them coming up, said, “My lad, dost thou mean to sell this she-goat?” “Goat!” replied I, “it is a calf.”  “Nay,” answered he, “surely thou must be blind or under enchantment; but, old as the goat is, if thou wilt sell it, I will give thee a koorsh for her.”  I angrily refused, and he went away; when presently up came another; and, in short, in regular succession the whole forty, the last of whom was the chief of the butchers.  I perceived the connivance to cheat me, and resolving to be revenged, said, “I am convinced I am deceived, so you shall have the goat, if such she is, for the koorsh, provided you let me have her tail.”  This was agreed to, and it being cut off, I delivered my calf to the chief of the butchers, received the money, and returned home.

On my arrival at home, my mother asked if I had sold the calf; to which I replied, “Yes, for a koorsh, and her tail into the bargain.”  She thought me stupid or mad, and inquired what I would do with the latter.  I answered, “I will be amply revenged on the sharpers, who pretended that my calf was a she-goat, and force from them, at least, a thousand times the price they gave me.”  After this, I skinned the tail, cut the leather into thongs, and twisted them into a whip with hard thick knots.  I then disguised myself in female attire, taking pains to make myself look as handsome as possible with the assistance of my mother, who put soorma into my eyelids, and arranged my eyebrows, stained my hands with hinna, and directed me how to ogle and smile.  In short, as I was then a beardless lad, and reckoned comely, I appeared as a very desirable maiden in my disguise.

On my arrival at the house of the chief of the butchers, I found him sitting with his companions in the court.  The whole of my calf had been cooked in various ways, and they were just going to spread the cloth and feast upon it.  On my entrance I made a profound salutation:  upon which they all rose up to return it, and having treated me welcomely, whispered one to another, saying, “By Allah, this will be a night of glorious festivity, illumined by so much beauty! however, our chief must have the preference, this night shall be his; after which we will all cast lots for his turn of enjoyment.”

When we had feasted on my calf, and the night was far advanced, the butchers took leave, departed to their homes, and I remained alone with the chief, who began to entertain me with amusing conversation.  Observing a rope hanging from the ceiling of an apartment, I, as if ignorant of its purpose, inquired the use of it; when the venerable chief of the butchers informed me it was for suspending animals to cut up; also, occasionally his dependants, whose crimes required the punishment of flogging.  Upon this I expressed a great desire to be tied with the rope, drawn up, and swung for amusement.  “My dear lady,” replied he, “the cord will hurt thy delicate skin; but thou shall put it round me, draw me up, and see the use without injuring thyself.”

I consented to the wish of the chief butcher, placed the cord under his arms, and drew him up till the ends of his toes scarcely touched the ground.  I then secured the rope, and for some moments kept running playfully round him, and tickling his sides, which made him laugh with delight.  At length, tired of his posture, he desired me to release him; but I refused, saying, “My dear chief, I have not yet finished my amusement;” after which I tore the clothes from his back, as if in merriment.  When I had done this, I pulled out my whip, which was well knotted, saying, “This is the tail of a she-goat, and not of a calf.”  The butcher now began to be somewhat alarmed, asking me who I was, and whence I came? to which I replied, “I am the owner of the fat calf, of which thou and thy villanous companions so rascally cheated me.”  I then bared my arm to my elbow, and so belaboured his back and sides with my whip that he roared in agony; nor did I leave off till his skin was completely flayed, and he fainted from the pain.  After this I searched the apartment, found a bag containing three hundred deenars, some handsome dresses, and other valuable articles, all of which I bundled up, and carried off; leaving the chief of the butchers, suspended, to his fate.  When I had reached home, I gave my prize to my mother, saying, “This is only part of the value of my calf, which I have just received of the purchaser.”

Early in the morning the butchers repaired, as usual, to the residence of their chief, and finding the door of the court-yard locked, joked one with another, saying, “Our old gentleman has been so fatigued with his happiness that he sleeps longer than ordinary.”  They waited till near noon, when they called out for admittance; but receiving no answer, became apprehensive of some disaster, and forcing the door, found their chief suspended, almost lifeless, and his scars dropping blood.  To their inquiries into the cause of his doleful situation, he replied, “That pretended vixen was no woman, but a brawny youth, the owner of the calf; who, in return for our roguery, has flogged me thus, and carried off all he could find in my chamber worth having.”  The butchers vowed revenge, saying, “We will seize and put him to death;” but their chief requested them for the present to be patient, and carry him to a warm bath, that he might wash and get his wounds dressed.

I observed the chief butcher enter the bathing house alone, while his followers waited at the gate:  upon which I went to a slaughter-house, poured over my back the blood of a sheep, dabbed it with plaisters of cotton, and leaning on a crutch, as if in agony of pain, repaired to the bath.  At first the butchers refused me admittance, saying their chief was within; but on my entreating their compassion for my miserable condition, they at length permitted me to enter.  Passing through the different rooms, I came to the bath, in which I found the unfortunate chief washing his scars.  I pulled out my whip, and having said to him, “Shekh, this is the tail of my calf!” flogged him again so severely that he fainted; after which I made my escape by another entrance to the hummaum, which opened into a different street.

The butchers growing impatient at the long stay of their chief in the bath, at length entered, and found him in extreme agony.  He informed them of this second revenge of the owner of the calf, and requested that he would take him into the country, pitch a tent for his reception, and remain to guard him till he should be cured of his wounds.  They did so; but I watched their motions, and disguising myself, repaired in the evening towards the tent.  Here I found a Bedouin Arab, whom I bribed with a piece of gold to cry out, “I am the owner of the calf, and will have the life of your chief!” cautioning him at the same time, after he had so exclaimed, to make his escape as quickly as possible from the butchers, who would pursue him.  “I shall not heed them,” replied he, “though they may be mounted on the fleetest coursers.”

Having said this, the Bedouin went up close to the tents, bawling out vociferously, as I had directed him:  upon which all the butchers started up and pursued him, but in vain, to a great distance.  I then entered the tent in which the chief was reposing alone, and pulling out my whip, once more flogged him till he roared with agony.  When I was tired I bundled up such articles as I could lay my hands on; and returning home, presented them to my mother, saying, “Here is the balance of the price of our calf.”

The butchers having attempted to overtake the Bedouin, till they were wearied with running, but in vain, returned to their chief, whom they found in a fainting fit from the pain of his wounds.  Having sprinkled water on his face, they recovered him so far that he was able to inform them of what had happened; and to request them to convey him once more to his own house, to give out that he was dead of his wounds, and make a mock funeral; when, possibly, the owner of the calf, believing him departed this life, might cease to torment him.

The butchers obeyed the commands of their chief, and reporting that he was dead, laid him in a litter, and marched in mournful procession towards the burying ground, followed by a great concourse of people.  Mixing with the crowd, in disguise, I at length stooped under the litter, and giving the chief, who lay extended in a winding sheet, a smart poke with a pointed stick, up he jumped, to the astonishment of the beholders; who cried out, “A miracle! a miracle! the dead is raised to life!” while I made my escape in the throng; but being fearful that the many tricks I had played, especially this last, might excite inquiry, and lead to a discovery, I fled from the city, and resolved to remain in this cave till curiosity should subside.

The sultan exclaimed, “These adventures are surprising;” when the second inhabitant of the cave said, “My lord, my story is much more wonderful than the last; for I contrived not only to be dead and buried, but to escape from the tomb.”  “Possibly,” said the sultan, “thy adventures may have been stranger than those of this man; but if any of you are acquainted with the memoirs of ancient monarchs, I could wish you to relate them; however, at present, I must take you with me to the palace, that I may make you welcome.”  When the men heard this proposition, they were alarmed, and cried out, “What, my lord, would you carry us to the city from which we have escaped to save our lives?” “Fear not,” replied he, “I am the sultan, and was amusing myself with hunting when I chanced to discover your cave.”  They bowed themselves before him, and exclaimed, “To hear is to obey;” after which they attended him to the city.  On their arrival, the sultan ordered them proper apartments and suitable entertainment, and invested each of them with a rich habit.  For some days they remained enjoying themselves; when, at length, one evening the sultan commanded them to his presence, and requested a narrative, when one of them related the following story.

History of the Sultan of Hind.

In ancient days there lived a sultan of Hind, than whom no prince of the age was greater in extent of territory, riches, or force; but Heaven had not allotted to him offspring, either male or female:  on which account he was involved in sorrow.  One morning, being even more melancholy than usual, he put on a red habit, and repaired to his divan; when his vizier, alarmed at the robes of mourning, said, “What can have occasioned my lord to put on this gloomy habit?” “Alas!” replied the sultan, “my soul is this morning overclouded with melancholy.”  “Repair then to the treasury,” said the vizier, “and view thy wealth; as, perhaps, the lustre of gold, and the brilliant sparkling of jewels, may amuse thy senses and disperse thy sorrow.”  “Vizier,” answered the sultan, “this world to me is all vanity; I regard nothing but the contemplation of the Deity:  yet how can I be relieved from melancholy, since I have lived to this age and he has not blessed me with children, either sons or daughters, who are the ornaments of manhood in this world?”

The sultan had scarcely ceased speaking, when a human figure of a dusky hue appeared before him, and said, “My sovereign, here is a confection left me by my ancestors, with an assurance, that whoever might eat of it would have offspring.”  The sultan eagerly took the confection, and by the blessing of Allah, one of the ladies of his haram conceived that very night.  When her pregnancy was made known to him, the sultan was overjoyed, distributed large sums in charity to the poor, and every day comforted the distressed by his bounty.

When the sultana had gone her full time, she was delivered of a son beautiful in aspect, and of graceful person; at which the sultan became overjoyed, and on that day set apart one half of his treasures for the use of the infant prince, who was intrusted to the charge of experienced nurses.  After he had thrived sufficiently at the breast he was weaned, and at six years of age put under the care of learned tutors, who taught him to write, to read the Koran, and instructed him in the other several branches of literature.  When he had completed his twelfth year, he was accomplished in horsemanship, archery, and throwing the lance, till at length he became a distinguished cavalier, and excelled the most celebrated equestrians.

The young prince being on a certain day hunting in the vicinity of the capital, there suddenly appeared soaring and wheeling in the air a bird, whose plumage was of the most beautiful and glossy green.  The prince let fly an arrow, but without effect, and the bird suddenly disappeared.  It was in vain that he turned his eye to all quarters, in hopes of again discovering his wished-for prey, for the bird had flown out of sight, and the prince after searching in all directions till the close of day, returned vexed and much disappointed to his father’s palace.  On his entrance, the sultan and sultana perceiving his countenance gloomy, inquired the cause of his melancholy, when he informed them of the bird:  upon which, they said, “Dear son, the creatures of the Almighty are innumerably diversified; and, doubtless, there are many birds as beautiful, and wonderfully more so than this, whose escape you so much regret.”  “It may be so,” replied the prince; “but unless I shall be able to take this, which has so captivated my fancy, I will abstain from food.”

On the following morning the prince repaired again to the chase, and having reached the same spot on the plain, to his great joy beheld the green bird.  Having taken a cautious aim, he let fly an arrow; but she evaded it, and soared before him in the air.  The prince spurred his courser and followed, keeping his desired prey in sight unceasingly till sunset; when both himself and his horse being exhausted he gave up the pursuit, and returned towards the city.  As he was riding slowly, and almost fainting with hunger and fatigue, there met him a venerable looking personage, who said, “Prince, both thyself and thy charger seem exhausted; what can have been the cause of such over exercise?” “Father,” answered the prince, “I have been pursuing, but in vain, a beautiful green bird, on which I had set my mind.”  “Son,” replied the sage, “if thou wert to follow it for a whole year’s journey, thy pursuit would be useless; for thou couldst never take it.  This bird comes from a city in the country of Kafoor, in which are most delightful gardens abounding in such birds as this, and many other species still more beautiful, some of which sing enchantingly, and others talk like human beings; but, alas thou canst never reach that happy spot.  Give up then all thoughts of the bird, and seek some other object for a favourite that thou mayst enjoy repose, and no longer vex thyself for impossibilities.”  When the prince heard this from the old man, he exclaimed, “By Allah! nothing shall prevent me from visiting the charming country thou hast mentioned;” and leaving the sage, he rode homewards, his mind wholly taken up in meditating on the land of Kafoor.

When the prince had reached the palace, the sultan perceiving his disordered state, inquired the adventures of the day; and being informed of his fruitless pursuit, and the remarks of the old man, said, “My son, discharge this idle chimera from thy mind, nor perplex thyself longer, since he who wishes for an impossibility may pine himself to death, but can never gain his desires:  calm then thy soul, nor vex thyself longer in vain.”  “By Allah!” answered the prince, “my soul, O my father, is captivated with the desire of possessing this bird more strongly than ever, from the words of the venerable old man; nor is it possible I can enjoy repose till I have travelled to the island of Kafoor, and beheld the gardens containing such a wonderful feathered species.”  “Alas! my dear son,” exclaimed the sultan, “think how afflicting must be to myself and thy mother thy absence from our sight, and for our sakes give up such a fruitless expedition.”

The prince, notwithstanding the remonstrances of his father, continued obstinate, and said, “My travelling is inevitable:  grant me then permission, or I will put myself to death.”  “If so,” exclaimed the affrighted sultan, “there is no refuge or help but from the omnipotent Allah:  well has the proverb remarked, that the nestling would not be restrained from the air, when suddenly the raven pounced upon it and bore it away.  Heaven guard my son from the consequences of his imprudence.”  Having said thus, the sultan commanded preparations for the requisites of travel, and ordered a force to accompany the headstrong prince; who, having taken leave of his afflicted parents, began his expedition towards the country of Kafoor.

The prince pursued his journey without any extraordinary adventure for a whole month, and at the expiration of it arrived at a spot from which branched out three roads.  At the junction of them was erected a lofty pyramid, each face fronting one of the roads.  On one face was inscribed, “This is named the Path of Safety:”  on the second, “This is called the Way of Repentance:”  and on the third, “Whoever follows this road will not probably return.”  “I will pursue this last,” said the prince to himself, and accordingly striking into it, proceeded onwards for twenty days, at the end of which he encamped near a desolated city, crumbling into ruin, wholly destitute of inhabitants.  He commanded his attendants, as no provisions could be found in the city, to kill five sheep of the flocks he had brought with him, and dress them for their refreshment in various ways.  When all were ready, and the simmaut was spread out, having performed his ablutions, he sat down with his principal followers.

The prince and his company had scarcely seated themselves, when, lo! there advanced from the desolated city a Genie, whom the prince seeing, stood up, and thus accosted, “Hail! and welcome to the sovereign of the Aoon, friendly to his brethren, and ruler of this extensive desert.”  He then addressed him, flatteringly, in fluent language and eloquent expression.  The hair of this Oone Genie hung shaggily over his eyes, and flowed in matted tresses upon his shoulders.  The prince took out a pair of scissors, and having condescendingly cut his hair, pared his nails, and washed him, seated him at the cloth, and placed before him the dish dressed peculiarly for himself.

The Oone ate, and was delighted with the affability of the prince, whom he addressed, saying, “By Allah, O Mahummud, son of a sultan!  I am doomed to death by thy arrival here; but what, my lord, was thy object in coming?” Upon this the prince informed him of his having seen the bird, his vain attempts to take her, the account he had received from the old man, and his resolution, in consequence of his information, to penetrate to the kingdom of Kafoor, to visit the gardens, and bring away some of the wonderful birds.

When the Oone heard this, he said, “O son of a sultan, that country to thee is impenetrable, thou canst not reach it; for the distance from hence is a journey of three hundred years to the most laborious traveller; how then canst thou hope to arrive at it, much more return?  But, my son, the good old proverb remarks, that kindness should be returned with kindness, and evil with evil, and that none are so cruel or so benevolent as the inhabitants of the desert.  As thou hast treated me kindly, so, God willing, shalt thou have a return for thy goodness; but thou must leave here thy attendants and thy effects.  Thou and I only will go together, and I will accomplish thy wish in gratitude for what thou hast done for me.”  The prince immediately retired from his encampment with the Oone, who said, “Mount upon my shoulders.”

The prince obeyed the commands of the Oone, who having first stopped his rider’s ears with cotton, mounted into the air, and after soaring for some hours descended; when the prince found himself in the island of Kafoor, and near the desired garden.  Having alighted from the shoulders of the generous Oone, he examined the spot, beheld groves, blooming shrubs, flowers bordering clear streams, and beautiful birds chanting various melodies.  The Oone said, “Behold the object, of thy search, enter the garden!” Upon this the prince left him, passed the gate, which was open, and entered.  He walked on every quarter, and depending from the branches of flowering shrubs saw cages holding a variety of beautiful birds, two birds in each cage.

The prince took down a large cage, and having examined the birds, placed in it such as pleased him to the number of six, with which he was preparing to leave the garden; when at the gate a watchman met him, who cried out loudly, “A robber! a robber!” Instantly numerous guards rushing out, seized the prince, bound, and carried him before the sultan, to whom they complained, saying, “We found in the garden this young man, carrying off a cage with six birds.  He must certainly be a robber.”

The sultan addressed the prince, saying, “What induced thee, youthful stranger, to violate my property, trespass on the garden, and attempt stealing these birds?” The prince returned no answer:  upon which the sultan exclaimed, “Young man, thou art verging upon death; yet still, if thy soul is bent upon having these birds, bring me from the Black Island some bunches of grapes, which are composed of emeralds and diamonds, and I will give thee six birds in addition to those thou hast stolen.”  Having said this, the sultan released the prince, who repaired to his generous friend the Oone, whom he informed of the unlucky conclusion of his adventure.  “Our task is an easy one,” answered the Oone; “mount upon my shoulders.”

The prince did as he was desired, and after two hours flight the Oone descended and alighted, when the prince found himself in the Black Island.  He immediately advanced towards the garden in which was the fruit composed of emeralds and diamonds.  On the way a monster met him of terrible appearance.

The monster sprung at the prince, who, with surprising agility, drawing his sword, wounded the furious beast on the forehead with such effect, that, uttering a dreadful groan, he fell dead at his feet.  It happened, by divine decree, that the sultan’s daughter looking from a window of the haram, beheld the combat, and, stricken with the manly beauty and prowess of the prince, exclaimed, “Who can withstand thy courage, or who resist thy all conquering charms?” But he did not see the princess, or hear her applause.

The prince, after having slain the monster, proceeded to the garden, the gate of which he found open, and on entering, perceived variety of artificial trees composed of precious stones.  Among them was one resembling the vine, the fruits of which were of emeralds and diamonds.  He plucked off six bunches, and was quitting the garden when a sentinel met him; who, being alarmed, cried out, “A robber! a robber!” The guards rushed out, and having bound him, carried him before the sultan, saying, “My lord, we found this youth stealing the fruit from the garden of jewels.”

The sultan was enraged, and on the point of ordering him to be put to death, when a number of persons entered, crying out, “Good tidings to our sovereign.”  “On what account?” exclaimed the sultan.  “The horrible monster,” replied they, “who used annually to appear and devour our sons and daughters, we have just now found dead and cloven in two.”  The sultan was so rejoiced at this happy event, that he refrained from the blood of the prince, and exclaimed, “Whoever has destroyed this monster let him come to me, and I swear by Allah, who has invested me with royalty, that I will give him my daughter in marriage; and whatever else he may desire, even to the half of my empire.”

Upon the sultan’s declaration being proclaimed, several young men appeared, pretending that they had killed the monster, and gave various accounts of the combat, which made the prince smile.  “By Allah! it is strange,” said the sultan, “that a youth in such a perilous situation should be so unconcerned as to smile.”  While the sultan was ruminating on this occurrence, a eunuch entered from the haram, requesting that he would come and speak to the princess his daughter, who had business of importance to communicate; upon which the sultan arose, and retired from the hall of audience.

When the sultan had entered the princess’s apartment, he said, “What can have happened which has occasioned you to send for me so suddenly?” She replied, “Is it thy wish to know who slew the monster, and to reward the courageous hero?” “By Allah,” answered the sultan, “who created subjects and their sovereigns, if I can discover him, my first offer to him shall be to espouse thee, whatever be his condition, or though he dwell in the most distant region.”  The princess rejoined, “No one slew the monster but the youth who entered the garden of gems, and was bearing off the fruit, whom thou wast just now on the point of putting to death.”

When the sultan heard the above from his daughter, he returned to the divan, and calling the prince before him, said, “Young man, I grant thee thy pardon; art thou he who destroyed the monster?” “I am,” replied the prince.  The sultan would instantly have summoned the cauzee to perform the espousals; but the prince said, “I have a friend to consult; permit me to retire, and I will soon return.”  The sultan consented, saying, “Thy request is but reasonable; but come back quickly.”  The prince having repaired to his friend the Oone, informed him of what had happened to him, and of the offer of the sultan’s daughter in marriage:  upon which the Oone said, “Accept the princess; but on condition that, if you marry her, you shall be allowed to carry her to your own kingdom.”  The prince having returned to the sultan, proposed his terms, which were readily agreed to, and the nuptials were celebrated with the most splendid magnificence.  After abiding in the palace of the sultan for a month and three days, he requested permission to depart with his bride towards his own country, which was granted.

On the departure of the prince, his father-in-law presented him with a hundred bunches of the grapes composed of emeralds and diamonds, and he repaired to his friend the Oone; who, having first stopped their ears with cotton, mounted them upon his shoulders, and soaring into the air, after two hours descended near the capital of the island of Kafoor.  The prince, taking four bunches of the jewelled fruit, hastened to the palace, and laid them before the sultan; who, in astonishment, exclaimed, “Surely, this young stranger must be a powerful magician, or how could he have travelled the distance of three hundred years’ journey, and have accomplished his purpose in less time than three months!  Such an action is truly miraculous.  Hast thou, indeed, young man,” said the sultan, “been at the Black Island?” “I have,” answered the prince.  “Describe it to me,” replied the sultan, “its appearance, its buildings, its gardens, and rivers.”  The prince having answered all his queries, the sultan said, “Noble youth, you may assuredly ask of me whatever you wish!” “I want nothing but the birds,” rejoined the prince.  “They are thine,” returned the sultan; “but annually on a certain day, and this is it, there descends from yonder mountain a monstrous vulture, which tears in pieces our men, women, and children; and having flown away with them in his gigantic talons devours their flesh.  I have a beautiful daughter, whom, if thou canst overcome this calamitous monster, I will give to thee in marriage.”

The prince replied, “I will consult my friend;” and then returned to the Oone, whom he informed of the offer; but he had scarcely done speaking, when, lo! the vulture appeared:  upon which the Oone, ascending into the air, attacked the monster, and after a fierce combat, tore him into halves; after which he descended to the prince, and said, “Go to the sultan, and acquaint him that his destructive enemy is slain.”

The prince did as he was directed:  upon which the sultan with his train, and an immense crowd of the inhabitants of the city, came out on horseback, and beheld the monstrous vulture, stretched dead on the ground, torn in halves.  The sultan then conducted the prince of Hind to the palace; where his marriage with the princess was instantly celebrated, amid the highest festivity and rejoicings; and after remaining a full month at the sultan’s court, he requested leave to depart; when his father-in-law presented him with ten cages, in each of which were four of the beautiful birds of variously coloured plumage, and dismissed him, after an affectionate farewell, with his daughter.

The prince having departed from the sultan repaired to his faithful friend the Oone, who welcomed his return; and having mounted him upon his back with his two brides, his jewel fruit, and the cages, immediately ascended into the air, from whence, after soaring for some hours, he gradually descended, and alighted near the ruined city, where the prince had left his tents, cattle, and followers, whom he found anxiously expecting his arrival.  The friendly Oone had scarcely set him down, when he said to the prince, “My young friend Mahummud, the obligation already conferred upon me by thy coming here was great; but I have one more favour to request.”  “What can that be?” replied the prince.  “That thou leave not this spot,” continued the Oone, “until thou hast washed my corpse, enshrouded, and laid it in the grave.”  Having said thus, the Oone suddenly uttered one loud groan, and instantly his soul took its flight from the body.  The astonished prince stood for some time overpowered with sorrow; but at length recovering himself, he, with the assistance of his domestics, washed the corpse, wrapped it in a winding sheet, and having prayed over it, deposited it in the earth.

The funeral ceremonies of his friend being over, he commenced his march homewards, and after three days arrived in sight of the inscribed pyramid, near which he perceived an extensive encampment, which, on reconnoitring, he found to be that of his father.  The aged sultan, unable to bear the absence of his son, had marched from his capital in hopes of overtaking him; but on his arrival at the junction of the three ways, being confounded at the sight of the inscriptions, he had halted, not knowing where to proceed.  Great was his joy on discovering the prince advancing towards that face of the pyramid on which was engraved, “Whoever travels this road will probably never return.”  When the raptures of meeting and mutual congratulations were over, the prince informed the sultan of his wonderful and successful adventures, which overpowered him with astonishment and joy.  After reposing a few days, they proceeded towards the capital of the sultan; where tidings having arrived of their approach, the inhabitants ornamented the city with silks, carpets, and transparent paintings; and the nobles and respectable persons issued forth with splendid trains to meet and congratulate their sovereign and the prince, who entered in triumphal procession, amid the greatest rejoicings and prayers for their welfare and prosperity.

STORY OF THE FISHERMAN’S SON.

A fisherman’s son having in company with his father caught a large fish, the latter proposed to present it to the sultan, in hopes of receiving a great reward.  While he was gone home to fetch a basket, the son, moved by compassion, returned the fish into the water; but fearful of his father’s anger, fled from his country, and repaired to a distant city, where he was entertained by a person as a servant.  Strolling one day in the market, he saw a Jew purchase of a lad a cock at a very high price, and send it by his slave to his wife, with orders to keep it safely till his return home.  The fisherman’s son supposing that as the Jew gave so great a price for the cock it must possess some extraordinary property, resolved to obtain it; and, accordingly, having bought two large fowls, carried them to the Jew’s wife, whom he informed that her husband had sent him for the cock, which he had exchanged for the fowls.  She gave it him; and he having retired, killed the bird, in whose entrails he found a magical ring; which being rubbed by his touch, a voice proceeded from it demanding what were the commands of its possessor, which should be immediately executed by the genii who were servants of the ring.  The fisherman’s son was rejoiced at his good fortune, and while meditating what use he should make of his ring, passed by the sultan’s palace, at the gates of which were suspended many human heads.  He inquired the reason, and was informed that they were those of unfortunate princes, who having failed in performing the conditions on which the sultan’s daughter was offered them in marriage, had been put to death.  Hoping to be more fortunate than them by the aid of his ring, he resolved to demand the princess’s hand.  He rubbed the ring, when the voice asked his commands:  upon which he required a rich dress, and it was instantly laid before him.  He put it on, repaired to the palace, and being introduced to the sultan, demanded his daughter to wife.  The sultan consented, on condition that his life should be forfeited unless he should remove a lofty and extensive mound of sand that lay on one side of the palace, which must be done before he could wed the princess.  He accepted the condition; but demanded an interval of forty days to perform the task.  This being agreed to, he took his leave, and having repaired to his lodging, rubbed his ring, commanded the genii to remove the mound, and erect on the space it covered a magnificent palace, and to furnish it suitably for a royal residence.  In fifteen days the task was completed; he was wedded to the princess, and declared heir to the sultan.  In the mean while, the Jew whom he had tricked of the cock and the magical ring resolved to travel in search of his lost prize, and at last arrived at the city, where he was informed of the wonderful removal of the mound, and the erection of the palace.  He guessed that it must have been done by means of his ring, to recover which he planned the following stratagem.  Having disguised himself as a merchant, he repaired to the palace, and cried for sale valuable jewels.  The princess hearing him, sent an attendant to examine them and inquire their price, when the Jew asked in exchange only old rings.  This being told to the princess, she recollected that her husband kept an old shabby looking ring in his writing stand, and he being asleep, she took it out, and sent it to the Jew; who, knowing it to be the one he had so long sought for, eagerly gave for it all the jewels in his basket.  He retired with his prize, and having rubbed the ring, commanded the genii to convey the palace and all its inhabitants, excepting the fisherman’s son, into a distant desert island, which was done instantly.  The fisherman’s son, on awaking in the morning, found himself lying on the mound of sand, which had reoccupied its old spot.  He arose, and in alarm lest the sultan should put him to death in revenge for the loss of his daughter, fled to another kingdom as quickly as possible.  Here he endured a disconsolate life, subsisting on the sale of some jewels, which he happened to have upon his dress at his flight.  Wandering one day through a town, a man offered him for sale a dog, a cat, and a rat, which he purchased, and kept, diverting his melancholy with their tricks, and uncommon playfulness together.  These seeming animals proved to be magicians; who, in return for his kindness, agreed to recover for their master his lost prize, and informed him of their intention.  He eagerly thanked them, and they all set out in search of the palace, the ring, and the princess.  At length they reached the shore of the ocean, after much travel, and descried the island on which it stood, when the dog swam over, carrying on his back the cat and the rat.  Being landed, they proceeded to the palace; when the rat entered, and perceived the Jew asleep upon a sofa, with the ring laid before him, which he seized in his mouth, and then returned to his companions.  They began to cross the sea, as before, but when about half over the dog expressed a wish to carry the ring in his mouth.  The rat refused, lest he should drop it; but the dog threatened, unless he would give it him, to dive and drown them both in the sea.  The rat, alarmed for his life, complied with his demand:  but the dog missed his aim in snatching at the ring, which fell into the ocean.  They landed, and informed the fisherman’s son of his loss:  upon which he, in despair, resolved to drown himself; when suddenly, as he was going to execute his purpose, a great fish appearing with the ring in his mouth, swam close to shore, and having dropped it within reach of the despairing youth, miraculously exclaimed, “I am the fish which you released from captivity, and thus reward you for your generosity.”  The fisherman’s son, overjoyed, returned to his father-in-law’s capital, and at night rubbing the ring, commanded the genii to convey the palace to its old site.  This being done in an instant, he entered the palace, and seized the Jew, whom he commanded to be cast alive into a burning pile, in which he was consumed.  From this period he lived happily with his princess, and on the death of the sultan succeeded to his dominions.

STORY OF ABOU NEEUT AND ABOU NEEUTEEN; OR, THE WELL-INTENTIONED AND THE DOUBLE-MINDED.

A person named Abou Neeut, or the well-intentioned, being much distressed in his own country, resolved to seek a better livelihood in another.  Accordingly he took with him all he possessed, being only one single sherif, and began his journey.  He had not travelled far when there overtook him a man, who entertained him with his conversation; in the course of which it appeared that his name was Abou Neeuteen, or double-minded.  Being upon the same scheme, they agreed to seek their fortunes together, and it was settled that Abou Neeut should be the purse-bearer of the common stock.  The other possessed ten sherifs.

After some days of toilsome journey they reached a city; on entering which, a beggar accosted them, crying out, “Worthy believers, disburse your alms and ye shall be rewarded ten-fold.”  Upon this, Abou Neeut gave him a sherif; when his companion, enraged at what he thought prodigality, demanded back his money, which was given him, and he marched off leaving his new friend without any thing.  Abou Neeut, resigned to his fate, and relying on Providence, proceeded to a mosque to pay his devotions, hoping to meet some charitable person who would relieve his necessities; but he was mistaken.  For a night and day he remained in the mosque, but no one offered him charity.  Pressed by hunger, he in the dusk of evening stole out, and wandered with fainting steps through the streets.  At length perceiving a servant throwing the fragments from an eating cloth, he advanced, and gathering them up, sat down in a corner, and gnawed the bones and half-eaten morsels with eagerness; after which, lifting up his eyes towards heaven, he thanked God for his scanty meal.  The servant, who had observed his motions, was surprised and affected at his wretched condition and devotion, of which he informed his master; who, being a charitable man, took from his purse ten sherifs, which he ordered the servant to give to Abou Neeut.

The servant, through avarice, having retained one sherif as a perquisite, delivered the rest to Abou Neeut; who, having counted the money, thanked God for his bounty; but said, agreeably to the scriptural declaration he ought to have had ten-fold for the sherif he had given to the beggar.  The master of the servant overhearing this, called Abou Neeut up stairs; and having seated him, inquired his story, which he faithfully related to his host, who was a capital merchant, and was so much pleased at his pious simplicity, that he resolved to befriend him, and desired him to abide for the present in his house.

Abou Neeut had resided some days with his friendly host, when the season arrived at which the merchant, who was punctual in discharging the duties of religion, having examined his stock, set apart the tenth of it in kind, and bestowed it upon his guest, whom he advised to open a shop and try his fortune in trade.  Abou Neeut did so, and was so successful, that in a few years he became one of the most reputable merchants in the place.

At the end of this period, sitting one day in his warehouse, he saw in the streets wretchedly habited, lean, and with eyes sunken and dim, his old companion Abou Neeuteen, begging alms of passengers with the importunate cry of distress.  Abou Neeut compassionating his miserable situation, ordered a servant to call him to him; and on his arrival, having seated him, sent for refreshments to relieve his immediate want.  He then invited him to spend the night at his house; and in the evening, having shut up his warehouse, conducted him home, where a bath was made warm for him, and when he had bathed, he was presented with a change of handsome apparel.  Supper was served, and when they had eaten till they were satisfied they conversed on several subjects.  At length Abou Neeut exclaimed, “Dost thou not recollect me, my brother?” “No, by Allah, most liberal host,” replied the other; “but who art thou?” “I was,” answered Abou Neeut, “the companion of thy travel at such a period; but my disposition is still unchanged, nor have I forgotten our old connection.  Half of what I possess is thine.”

Having said this, Abou Neeut balanced his accounts, and gave half of his property to his distressed fellow traveller; who with it stocked a warehouse, and traded for himself with good success.  For some time the two friends lived near each other in great repute, when Abou Neeuteen growing restless, requested Abou Neeut to quit their present abode, and travel for recreation and profit.  “My dear friend,” replied Abou Neeut, “why should we travel? have we not here affluence and ease, and what more can we enjoy in any part of the world?” This remonstrance had no effect on Abou Neeuteen, who became so importunate, that at length his kind friend yielded to his whim; they loaded an ample stock of merchandize on mules and camels, and departed for the city of Moussul.

After travelling ten days, they one evening encamped near a deep well, round which they took up their lodging.  In the morning Abou Neeut, by his own desire, was let down into the well, more readily to fill the water bags for the use of the caravan, men and cattle, little apprehending what was by Providence decreed to befall him; for his ungrateful friend, who envied his prosperity, and coveted his wealth, having loaded the beasts, cut the rope at the top of the well, and leaving him to his fate, departed.

Abou Neeut remained all day without food, but humbly putting his trust in Allah for deliverance.  About the middle of the following night he overheard two Afreets in conversation with each other, when one said, “I am now perfectly happy:  for at length I have possessed the beautiful princess of Moussul, and no one can drive me away, unless by sprinkling the infusion of wormwood under her feet on a Friday during divine service in the great mosque, a recipe which will hardly be found out.”  “I,” continued the other Afreet, “have been as fortunate as yourself:  for I am in possession of such a hidden treasure of gold and jewels, under the mound near Moussul, as cannot be computed, the talisman of which cannot be opened to any one unless by killing on the mound a white cock, and pouring over it the blood; which secret I judge, will not be found out by man.”  Having said this, the Afreets took their flight from the well.

Abou Neeut treasured up in his mind the conversation of the Afreets, and at day-light was happily delivered from the well by the arrival of a caravan, some of the followers of which were let down to fill water, and having discovered him, charitably drew him up, and gave him some refreshments.  When he was somewhat revived by them, they inquired by what accident he had remained in the well; and he, concealing the treachery of his ungrateful companion, informed them that having reposed to sleep on the edge he had fallen in, and not being missed at the time by his fellow travellers, the caravan had proceeded on its journey.  He then begged leave to accompany his generous deliverers to Moussul, to which they agreed, and liberally furnished him with a conveyance.

On entering the city Abou Neeut perceived all the people in motion, and on inquiring the reason, was informed that they were hastening to the great square before the palace, to see the beheading of a physician, who had failed in attempting to expel an evil spirit that had long possessed the daughter of the sultan, and that such had been the fate of many unhappy men who had tried their skill upon the unfortunate princess.  Upon this intelligence he hastened with all speed to the palace, and having obtained admission to the sultan, made the usual prostrations; after which he offered to expel the evil spirit, and begged as part of his reward the sparing of the life of the unsuccessful physician.  To this the sultan for the present agreed; but declared, that should Abou Neeut fail in his undertaking, he would execute them together, as ignorant pretenders in their art.  Abou Neeut then begged that the trial of his skill might be deferred till the Friday, which he requested of the sultan might be solemnly observed, as the devout prayers of all true believers would draw down a blessing on his operations.  The sultan consented; the unfortunate physician was released from the executioner, and commanded to be kept in the palace, in which Abou Neeut had also an apartment allotted him.  Proclamation was then made through the city for the strict celebration of the approaching sabbath, under pain of the royal displeasure on those who should neglect it.

Friday being arrived, and the whole city assembled at prayers, Abou Neeut prepared his infusion of wormwood, as the Afreet had mentioned.  Being introduced into the apartment of the princess, who lay in a melancholy stupor, he poured the infusion upon her feet, when a loud yell was heard near her, and she starting up, as if from sleep, called upon her attendants to assist her in rising.  News was immediately conveyed to the sultan of the princess’s recovery, and he came overjoyed to witness her returned senses.  He commanded public rejoicings to be made, large sums to be distributed in alms, and desired Abou Neeut to demand what he chose in reward for his important service, at the same time ordering the unsuccessful physician to be set at liberty, with a handsome present.

Abou Neeut, who had been captivated by the beauty of the princess, asked, as his reward, her hand in marriage:  upon which the sultan consulted with his viziers, who advised him to dismiss the petitioner for the present, with orders to return in the morning, when he should receive the sultan’s decision on a request which demanded much consideration.  When Abou Neeut had retired, the viziers represented to the sultan, that it was fitting the husband of his daughter should at least possess great wealth:  for though Abou Neeut had expelled the evil spirit, yet if he could not support her in a manner becoming her rank, he was not worthy to marry her.  They, therefore, advised him to select a number of his most valuable jewels, to shew them to Abou Neeut, and demand as a dowry for the princess some of equal estimation; which if he could produce he was ready to receive him as his son-in-law; but if not, he must accept a compensation for his services more suited to his condition than the royal alliance.

On Abou Neeut’s appearance at court the next morning the sultan displayed the jewels, and made the proposal advised by his viziers; when looking with the utmost indifference upon the brilliant stones before him, he assured the sultan that he would the next day present him with ten times the number, of superior value and lustre; which declaration astonished the whole court, as it was known that no prince possessed richer gems than those in possession of the sultan of Moussul.

Abou Neeut having taken leave of the sultan proceeded to the poultry market, and having purchased a cock entirely white and free from blemish, brought it to his lodgings, where he continued till the rising of the moon, when he walked out of the city alone, and speeded to the mound of blueish earth mentioned by the Afreet of the well to contain the invaluable hidden treasure.  Being arrived at the mound, he ascended it, cut the throat of the cock, whose blood began to flow, when, lo! the earth shook, and soon made an opening, through which, to his great satisfaction, he perceived such heaps of inestimable precious stones, of all sorts, as are not to be adequately described, Abou Neeut now went back to the city, where, having procured ten camels, with two panniers on each, he returned and loaded them with his treasure, which he conveyed to his lodging, having first filled up the cavity of the mound.

In the morning Abou Neeut repaired with his loaded camels to the palace, and entering the court of the divan, in which the sultan sat expecting him, after a profound obeisance, cried out, “Descend for a moment, my lord, and examine the dowry of the princess.”  The sultan, arising from his throne, came down the steps of the hall, and the camels being made to kneel, he examined the panniers, and was so astonished at the richness of their contents, being jewels far surpassing his own in size and lustre, that he exclaimed, “By Allah! if the treasuries of all the sultans of the world were brought together they could not afford gems equal to these.”  When somewhat recovered from his surprise, he inquired of his viziers how he should now act towards Abou Neeut; when they all unanimously cried out, “By all means give him your daughter.”  The marriage was then immediately celebrated with great splendour, and Abou Neeut conducted himself so well in his high station, that the sultan his father-in-law committed to him the giving public audience in his stead, and the decision of all appeals, three days in each week.

Some time had elapsed after his elevation, when Abou Neeut one day giving audience in the magnificent hall of one of his country palaces, beheld a man among the crowd of a sorrowful aspect, dressed in a wretched habit, who cried, “O true believers, O charitable gentlemen, relieve the distressed!” Abou Neeut commanded one of his mace-bearers to bring him to his presence, and on his appearance recognized his treacherous companion who had left him in the well.  Without making himself known, or betraying any emotion but that of compassion, he ordered attendants to conduct him to the warm bath; in which being refreshed, he was arrayed in a magnificent habit, and again brought to the divan.  Abou Neeut having retired with him into a closet, said, “Knowest them me not, my old friend?” “No, by Allah,” replied the other.  “Know then,” returned he, “that I am Abou Neeut, thy benefactor and companion, whom you treacherously left in the well.”  He then related all his adventures, concluding them with an assurance, that so far from resenting his treachery, he regarded his conduit as the impulse of fate, and as the means by which he, himself, had attained his present dignity and affluence, which he would share with him.  The envious heart of Abou Neeuteen was unconquerable; and instead of thanking the noble-minded Abou Neeut for his forgiveness and liberality, he exclaimed, “Since the well has been to thee so fortunate, why should it not prove so also to me?” Having said this, he hastily rose up and quitted Abou Neeut, who would not punish such rudeness, even without taking leave.

Abou Neeuteen hastened with all speed to the well, and having descended by a rope, sat down, impatiently expecting the arrival of the Afreets, who about midnight alighted, and resting themselves on the terrace above, began to inquire each other’s adventures.  “Since we met last,” said one, “I have been rendered miserable; for a cunning Mussulmaun found out the secret of overpowering me, and has married my princess, nor can I revenge myself, for he is under the protection of a converted genie, whom the prophet has appointed to watch over him.”  “I,” continued the other Afreet, “have been equally unfortunate with thyself; for the same man who has wedded thy mistress discovered my hidden treasure, and keeps it in spite of my attempts to recover it:  but let us fill up this abominable well, which must have been the cause of all our disasters.”  Having said thus, the two Afreets immediately hurled the terrace and large stones into the well, which crushed the ungrateful and envious Abou Neeuteen to atoms.  Some days after this, the good Abou Neeut, finding he did not return, repaired to the well, and seeing it fallen in, ordered it to be cleared; when the discovery of the body proved to him that the malicious spirit of the wretch had been the cause of his own destruction.  He with reverence exclaimed, “There is no refuge but with the Almighty; may he preserve us from envy, which is destructive to the envious alone!”

Abou Neeut returned to the capital, where, not long after, his father-in-law the sultan dying, left him heir to his kingdom.  His succession was disputed by the husbands of the two elder sisters of his wife; but the ministers and people being in favour of the sultan’s will, they resigned their pretensions and submitted to his authority.  His wife being brought to bed of a son, her sisters bribed the midwife to pretend that the sultana had produced a dog.  They did the same by another son.  At the third lying-in of the sultana Abou Neeut resolved to be present, and a beautiful princess appeared.  The two infant princes having been thrown at the gate of one of the royal palaces, were taken up by the gardener and his wife, who brought them up as their own.  Abou Neeut in visiting the garden with his daughter, who shewed an instinctive affection for them, from this, and their martial play with each other (having made horses of clay, bows and arrows, &c.), was induced to inquire of the gardener whether they were really his own children.  The gardener upon this related the circumstance of his having found them exposed at the gate of the palace, and mentioned the times, which agreed exactly with those of the sultana’s delivery.  Abou Neeut then questioned the midwife, who confessed the imposition and wickedness of the sisters, whom he left to be punished by the pangs of their own consciences, convinced that envy is its own severest tormentor.  The young princes were acknowledged; and the good Abou Neeut had the satisfaction of seeing them grow up to follow his example.

Adventure of A courtier, related by
himself to his patron, an ameer of Egypt.

It is related by an historian that there was an ameer of the land of Egypt, whose mind being one night unusually disturbed, he sent for one of his courtiers, a convivial companion, and said to him, “To-night my bosom, from what cause I know not, is uncommonly restless, and I wish thee to divert me by some amusing narrative.”  The courtier replied, “To hear is to obey:  I will describe an adventure which I encountered in the youthful part of my life.”

When a very young man I was deeply in love with a beautiful Arab maiden, adorned by every elegance and grace, who resided with her parents; and I used frequently to visit their camp, for her family was one of the desert tribes.  One day my mind felt uncommonly anxious concerning her, and I resolved to seek relief by a visit; but when I reached the spot found neither my beloved nor any of her kindred.  I questioned some passengers, who informed me that the family had removed their encampment from scarcity of forage for their herds and camels.  I remained for some time on the ground; but observing no signs of their return, my impatience of absence became intolerable, and my love compelled me to travel in search of my charmer.  Though the shades of evening were falling, I replaced the saddle upon my camel, put on my vestments, and girding on my sabre proceeded.  I had advanced some distance, when the night became dismally black, and from the darkness I now sunk into sands and hollows, and now ascended declivities, while the yells of wild beasts resounded on every quarter.  My heart beat with apprehension, and my tongue did not cease to repeat the attributes of the Almighty, our only defender in time of need.  At length stupor overcame my senses, and I slept; while my camel quitted the track, and wandered from the route I had meant to pursue all night.  Suddenly my head was violently intercepted by the branch of a tree, and I was awakened by the blow, which gave me infinite pain.  As I recovered myself I beheld trees, verdure sprinkled with flowers, and a clear rivulet; also a variety of birds, whose notes were melodiously sweet.  I alighted from my camel, and laid the bridle on my arm, as the underwood of the thicket was closely entwined.

I did not cease leading my camel till I was out of the thicket, when I remounted; but at a loss which way to go, and unknowing where Providence might direct me, I reached the desert, and cast my eyes over the expanse; when, lo! at length a smoke appeared in the midst of it.  I whipped my camel, and at length reached a fire, and near it observed a handsome tent, before which was a standard planted, surrounded by spears, horses picketted, and camels grazing.  I said to myself, “What can mean this tent, which has a grand appearance, in so solitary a plain?” I then went to the rear of the tent, and exclaimed, “Health to you, O inhabitants of this tent, and may the Almighty to you be merciful!” Upon this there advanced from it a youth, seemingly about nineteen, who appeared graceful as the rising moon, and valour and benevolence gleamed upon his aspect.  He returned my salutation, and said, “Brother Arab, perchance thou hast missed thy way.”  I answered, “Yes, shew it, and may God requite thee!” upon which he replied, “My dwelling, brother Arab, is at present in this wild spot; but the night is dreary, and shouldst thou proceed there is no surety against wild beasts tearing thee in pieces.  Lodge, then, at present with me in safety, and repose, and when day shall appear I will direct thee on thy way.”  I alighted, when he took my camel, picketted her, and gave her water and fodder.  He then retired for a while; but returned with a sheep, which he killed, flayed, and cut up; then lighted a fire, and when it was of a proper glow broiled part of the sheep, which he had previously seasoned with sundry dried herbs, seeds, and spices, and when ready presented his cookery to me.

During his hospitalities I observed that my kind host sometimes beat his breast and wept, from which I guessed that he was in love, and a wanderer, like myself.  My curiosity was raised; but I said within myself, “I am his guest, why should I intrude upon him by painful questions?” and refrained from inquiry.  When I had eaten as much as sufficed me, the youth arose, went into his tent, and brought out a basin and ewer, with a napkin embroidered with silk and fringed with gold; also a cruet of rose water, in which musk had been infused.  I was astonished at his proceedings, and the politeness of his demeanour, and exclaimed inwardly, “How wonderful is the abode of so accomplished a personage in this wild desert.”  We made our ablutions, and conversed awhile upon various subjects; after which my gentle host went to his tent, from whence he brought out a piece of red silk damask, which he divided between us, saying, “Brother Arab, go into my tent and choose thy place of repose, for last night and to-day great must have been thy hardship and fatigue.”

I entered the tent, and in one partition of it found a mattress of green damask:  upon which, having pulled off my upper garments, I lay down, and slept so soundly that I never enjoyed, before or since, so refreshing a repose.  At length I awoke, when night was far advanced, and became involved in thought respecting my hospitable host; but knew not what to conjecture, and was sinking again into slumber, when, lo! gentle murmurs struck my ears, than which I never heard sound more soft or tenderly affecting.  I lifted up the curtain of my partition, and looked around, when I beheld a damsel more beautiful than any I had ever seen, seated by the generous owner of the tent.  They wept and complained of the agonies of love, of separation and interruptions to their desire of frequent meetings.  Then I said within myself, “There is a wonderfully dignified appearance in this amiable youth, yet he lives alone, and I have seen no other tent on the plain.  What can I conjecture, but that this damsel must be a daughter of one of the good genii, who has fallen in love with him, and upon her account he has retired to this solitary spot?” Respect for their love made me drop the curtain; I drew the coverlid over me, and again fell asleep.

When the morning dawned I awoke, dressed, and having performed my ablutions and prayers, said to the young man, who had already risen, “Brother Arab, if in addition to thy hospitalities already shewn thou wilt put me in my way, my obligations will be complete.”  He looked kindly, and said, “If convenient, my brother, let me entertain thee as my guest for three days.”  I could not refuse his hospitable request, and abode with him.  On the third day I ventured to inquire his name and family, when he replied, “I am of the noble tribe of Azzra,” and I discovered that he was the son of my father’s brother.  “Son of my uncle,” exclaimed I, “what can have induced thee to court the seclusion of this desert spot, and to quit thy kinsmen, neighbours, and dependents?”

Upon hearing these words, the eyes of the youth became suffused with tears, he sighed, and said, “Ah! my cousin, I passionately admired the daughter of my uncle, and was so devoted to her love that I asked her in marriage; but he refused me, and wedded her to another of our tribe richer than myself, who carried her to his abode.  When she was thus torn from me, despair agitated my soul, I quitted my relations, friends, and companions, became enamoured of solitude, and retired to this lonely spot.”

When he had finished his communication, I said, “But where is the abode of thy beloved and thy successful rival?” He replied, “Near the summit of yonder mountain, from whence, as frequently as opportunity will allow, in the stillness of night, when sleep hath overpowered the eyes of the village, she ventures to my tent, and we enjoy the company of each other; but believe me, my brother, our passion is innocent as devotional love.  Hence I dwell here in the manner you have witnessed, and while she visits me delightful will pass the hours, until Allah shall execute his appointed decrees, and reward our constancy in this world, or consign us to the grave together.”

When the unfortunate youth had concluded his narration, at which I was affected with sincere compassion for his circumstances, an eager desire to relieve the lovers from their oppressors occupied my mind, and after much consideration I addressed him thus:  “If thou choosest, I think I can point out a plan which, under the blessing of Allah, may end the sufferings of thyself and thy beloved.”  He replied, “O son of my uncle, reveal it to me!” and I continued, saying, “When night shall arrive, and the damsel cometh, let us seat her upon my camel; for she is sure-footed and swift of pace; do thou then mount thy steed, and I will accompany you upon one of your camels.  We will travel all night, and ere morning shall have passed the forest, when you will be safe, and thy heart will be rendered happy with thy beloved.  The land of God is wide enough to afford us an asylum; and by Heaven I swear, that while life remains I will be thy friend.”  The youth replied, “Son of my uncle, I will consult upon thy plan with my beloved, for she is prudent and well-informed.”

When night had shut in, and the usual hour of the damsel’s coming approached, my kind host impatiently expected her arrival; but in vain, for she did not appear.  He rose, stood in the doorway of the tent, opened his mouth, and drew in the exhalations of the gale, then returned, sat down pensively for a few minutes, and at last bursting into tears, exclaimed, “Ah! my cousin, there are no tidings of the daughter of my uncle, some, mishap must have befallen her.  Remain here while I go in search of intelligence.”  Having said thus, he took up his sabre, his lance, and departed.

When somewhat more than an hour had elapsed, I heard his footstep, and soon perceived him advancing, bearing something bulky in his arms, while he called loudly upon me in a distressful tone.  I hastened towards him, and upon my arrival he exclaimed, “Alas, alas! the beloved daughter of my uncle is no more, and I bear her remains.  She was hastening, as usual, to my tent, when suddenly a lion sprung upon her in the path, and tore her in pieces.  These relics are all that remain of my beloved.”  He then laid them down, and, lo! the thigh bones of the damsel and part of her ribs.  He wept piteously, and said, “Remain here till I return;” after which he departed with the swiftness of an arrow.  In about an hour he returned, and in his hand was the head of the lion, which he threw down, and asked eagerly for water, which I brought him.  He then washed his hands, cleansed the mouth of the lion, which he rapturously kissed, and wept bitterly for some moments.  He then exclaimed, “By Allah, I conjure thee, O son of my uncle, and by the ties of relationship between us, that thou observe my will; for within this hour I shall follow my beloved; be thou our mourner, and bury her remains with mine in the same grave.”  Having said this, he retired into the sleeping partition of the tent; where he remained at his devotions for an hour, then came out, beat his breast, sighed deeply, and at length heaved his expiring groan, saying, “I come, I come, my beloved, I come!” and his pure soul took flight for the mansions of Paradise.

When I beheld his corpse, sad indeed was my condition, and from excess of sorrow I found it difficult to perform my promise; but at length I arose, washed, enshrouded, and laid the remains of these constant lovers in the same grave, near which I remained for three days in prayer and lamentation; after which I departed homewards:  but have not failed annually to visit the spot, to bedew their grave with my tears, and pray for the mercy of Allah to their souls and my own errors.

STORY OF THE PRINCE OF SIND, AND FATIMA, DAUGHTER OF AMIR BIN NAOMAUN.

Some ages back a certain sultan of Sind had a son by a concubine, who behaved so rudely to his sultana, that she became dispirited and lost her health, which her favourite woman observing, resolved by stratagem to get rid of the prince.  She advised her mistress, when he might next insult her, to say to him, “That he would never appear becoming his rank till he was beloved by Fatima, daughter of a sultan named Amir bin Naomaun.”  The queen having followed the woman’s directions, the prince resolved to travel to the country of the princess, and demand her in marriage.  Accordingly, having obtained the consent of the sultan his father, he departed with an attendance suitable to his rank.  After marching for some time he entered a desert, which was covered with a numberless flight of locusts, that had fallen exhausted for want of food.  Pitying their distress, he ordered meal to be spread on the ground, when the locusts having refreshed themselves flew away.  Some days after this incident he reached a thick forest crowded with elephants, and herds of wild animals of every description; but as they did not attempt to attack him, and were in a starving condition, he ordered some of his cattle to be killed, and distributed to them for food.  Having satisfied themselves they retired, shewing every sign that dumbness would allow of being pleased with his kind treatment.  On his march onwards the prince met a venerable old man, of whom he inquired the route to the territories of Amir bin Naomaun, and was informed that they were at no great distance; but only to be entered by a range of rugged and steep mountains composed of iron-stone, and next to impassable; also, that should he succeed in overcoming this difficulty, it was in vain to hope to attain the princess.  The prince inquiring the reason, the old man continued, “Sultan Amir bin Naomaun has resolved that no one shall wed his daughter unless he can perform three tasks which he will impose, and these are of so difficult a nature as not to be executed by the labour or ingenuity of man, and many unhappy princes have lost their heads in the attempt; for he puts them to death instantly on failure:  be advised, therefore, and give up so fruitless an expedition.”  The prince, instead of listening to the admonition of the old man, resolved to proceed; and having requested his prayers and benedictions, continued his march.  In a short time, having entered the passes of the mountains, he discovered vast caverns inhabited by a species of genii, who were employed in working upon masses of iron-stone, which they dug from the rock.  The prince having entertained them with a hospitable feast, they, in return, shewed him the easiest route through the stupendous mountains, and he at length arrived in safety before the capital of sultan Amir bin Naomaun, to whom he sent an envoy, requesting leave to encamp on the plain, and to offer himself as a candidate for the beautiful princess his daughter.  The sultan, in reply, acceded to his petition, and invited him to the palace; where, in the evening, he was led into a court, in which was placed an immense vessel filled with three kinds of grain mixed together, which (as his first task towards obtaining the princess) he was to separate entirely from each other, and put into three heaps; which if not accomplished before sunrise, he was then to forfeit his head in punishment for his temerity.  It being now too late to recede, the prince resigned himself to Providence; and the gates of the court being locked upon him, he prayed to Allah, and began to separate the grains; but finding his progress vain, his spirits deserted him about midnight, and he left off his fruitless labour in despair, endeavouring to reconcile himself to death.  While he was praying for fortitude to bear him up in his last moments, a voice was heard, saying, “Be comforted, and receive the reward of thy charity to famished insects.”  Immediately after this the heavens were obscured, as if by thick clouds, which descended on the court, when, lo! this phenomenon proved to be myriads of locusts; who, alighting on the vessel, in a few hours emptied it of all the grain, which they disposed of, each in its kind, in three several heaps, and having given a general buzzing of salutation, took flight, and vanished into the air.  The prince was overjoyed at the miraculous accomplishment of his task by the grateful locusts, and having offered up thanks to Allah and the prophet for his deliverance from impending destruction, composed himself to rest, doubting not but that they would assist him to overcome the two remaining labours.  Great was the surprise of the sultan Amir bin Naomaun, when, on coming at daylight to the court, he beheld his intended victim in a profound sleep, and the grain in three separate heaps, neatly piled up in the form of domes.  The prince awaking, saluted him, and demanded to be informed of his next task; but the sultan put him off to the evening, until when he entertained him at the palace with a most magnificent feast; and his obdurate heart was so softened by the noble address and demeanour of his guest, that he wished he might be able to overcome the remaining impositions and become his son-in-law.  The princess, also, who had the curiosity to look at him through the blinds of her apartments, was so fascinated with his appearance that she prayed for his success.

When night had set in, the prince was conducted to an open plain in front of the palace, in the centre of which was a large reservoir full of clear water, which the sultan commanded him to drain off before sunrise, or forfeit his life.  The prince remained alone on the brink of the reservoir with rather somewhat more hope of success than he had felt of overcoming his task of the preceding night; nor was he disappointed, for about midnight a voice was heard exclaiming, “Prince, benevolence is never unrequited:”  and, lo! the plain was filled with elephants, rhinoceroses, camels, dromedaries, lions, tigers, and every species of wild beasts, in such immense droves as could not be numbered, who, advancing in turn to the reservoir, drank in such quantity that it, at length, was completely emptied, and became as dry as if just finished.  The beasts then expressing pleasure by their varying natural noises at having served their benefactor departed, and left him to enjoy the deliverance from the labour imposed upon him.

The prince, now more assured than ever that he was the favourite of Allah and the prophet, after offering up prayers with a relieved heart, slept comfortably in a building creeled on the margin of the reservoir, and was only awakened by the call of the sultan at sun-rise, who was more astonished at the accomplishment of this labour than the former, though certainly each was equally difficult.  He conducted the prince to his palace, and the day was spent in the highest festivity.

At the approach of night the prince was conducted to his third task, which was to complete and fit up before daylight from a vast mass of planks of the choicest timber ready stored the doors, windows, and balconies of an unfinished palace, much larger than that which the sultan inhabited.  The prince at the apprehension of the consequences of failure was somewhat alarmed; but the recollection of his former aids supported him, and after offering up his devotions he sat down, composedly waiting for the decision of Providence on his fate.  His resignation was accepted, for at midnight he was roused from his contemplations by the sounds of sawing, planing, hammering, nailing, and the songs of happy work-men.  Looking up he perceived his friends of the iron mountains; who, all saluting him, cried out, “Prince, set your heart at rest, for we are come to repay you for your hospitable feast.”  Before daylight the palace was fitted up in a manner more elegant than can be described, and every door, window, and balcony painted with the most brilliant colours, flowered with silver and gold.  The grateful labourers of the iron mountains having finished their work, respectfully saluted the prince and departed.

The prince having taken a grateful leave of his useful friends, walked through the palace, and was eagerly employed in admiring its elegance and the magnificence of their finishing hand, when the sultan Amir bin Naomaun, who from his apartments at sun-rise had observed the miraculous completion, appeared, having hastened to examine the superb workmanship, and to congratulate his son-in-law, for as such he now acknowledged him, and as the favoured of Allah, and of the last of prophets.  He conducted the prince to the palace, and the most magnificent preparations being made, the nuptials with his daughter were celebrated in the new edifice, where the bride and bridegroom enjoyed themselves for three months, at the expiration of which the prince begged permission to return to his father’s dominions, which he reached just in time to release him from the attack of an inimical sultan, who had invaded the country, and laid close siege to his capital.  His father received him with rapture, and the prince having made an apology to the sultana for his former rude behaviour, she received his excuses, and having no child of her own readily adopted him as her son; so that the royal family lived henceforth in the utmost harmony, till the death of the sultan and sultana, when the prince succeeded to the empire.

STORY OF THE LOVERS OF SYRIA; OR, THE HEROINE.

There formerly dwelt in the city of Damascus two brothers, one poor and the other rich, the former of whom had a son, and the latter a daughter.  The poor man dying left his son, just emerging from infancy, to the protection of his wealthy uncle, who behaved to his unfortunate charge with paternal tenderness, till the youth, who had exchanged vows of love with his cousin, requested her in marriage; when the father refused, and expelled him from his house.  The young lady, however, who ardently loved him, agreed to elope, and having one night escaped from her father’s dwelling, repaired to the object of her affection; who, having had notice of her intentions, had prepared two horses and a mule to carry their baggage.  They travelled all night, and by morning reached a sea-port, where they found a ship ready to sail, in which, having secured a passage, the lady immediately embarked; but the lover remained on shore to dispose of the horses and mule.  While he was seeking for a purchaser in the market, a fair wind sprung up, and the master of the ship having weighed anchor, hoisted sail and departed:  the lady in vain entreating him to wait the return of her beloved, or send her on shore, for he was captivated with her beauty.  Finding herself thus ensnared, as she was a woman of strong mind, instead of indulging in unavailing complaint, she assumed a satisfied air; and as the only way to preserve her honour, received the addresses of the treacherous master with pretended complacency, and consented to receive him as a husband at the first port at which the ship might touch.  With these assurances he was contented, and behaved to her with honourable deference, and affectionate respect.  At length the vessel anchored near a city, to which the captain went to make preparations for his marriage; but the lady, while he was on shore, addressed the ship’s crew, setting forth with such force his treacherous conduct to herself, and offering such rewards if they would convey her to her lover at the port they had left, that the honest sailors were moved in her favour, agreed to obey her as their mistress, and hoisting sail, left the master to shift for himself.  After some days of favourable weather, a contrary gale blowing hard, the vessel was driven far out of her course, and for shelter obliged to anchor in the first haven that offered, which proved to be that of a large city, the capital of a potent sultan, whose officers came on board to examine the vessel, and inquire into her cargo and destination.  These men, to their great surprise, finding it commanded by a lady of exquisite beauty, reported her charms to the sultan, who resolved to possess them, and sent her an offer of marriage; to which she seemingly consented, and the sultan commanded the most splendid preparations to be made for the nuptials.  When all was ready, he sent onboard the vessel the daughter of his vizier, with other ladies, thirty-nine in number, magnificently attired, to wait upon his bride, and attend her on shore.  They were graciously received by the politic lady, and invited to refresh themselves in the grand cabin, which she had elegantly adorned with costly hangings, and prepared in it a superb collation, to which they sat down.  She then dismissed the boats in which they came, sending a message to the sultan that she should entertain the ladies on board till the next morning, when she would repair on shore and conclude their marriage.  She behaved towards her new guests with such winning affability, that they one and all admired their expected sultana, and partook of the entertainment with the highest satisfaction; but what was their surprise when, in the middle of the night, she commanded the crew to weigh anchor, having first warned them, on pain of her displeasure and immediate death, to keep silence, and raise no alarm in the harbour.  The vessel sailed, and put to sea without being molested, when the intrepid commandress consoled the affrighted ladies, related to them her own adventures, and assured them that when she should have rejoined her lover, they should, if they chose it, be honourably restored to their homes; but in the mean time she hoped they would contentedly share her fortunes.  This behaviour, by degrees, so won upon their minds, that the ladies forgot their sorrows, became pleased with their situation, and in a short time were so attached to their new mistress, that they would not have left her had it been in their power.  After some weeks sail, it became necessary to steer towards the first coast that should present itself, to lay in a supply of fresh water and provisions, and land appearing, the vessel anchored, when the lady with her companions went on shore.  Here they were surrounded by forty robbers, who threatened to take them prisoners; when the heroic lady, desiring her friends to conceal their fears, assumed a smiling countenance, and addressing the chief of the banditti, assured him there would be no occasion for force, as she and her companions were ready to share their love, being women who were above the prejudices of their sex, and had devoted themselves to pleasure, in search of which they roved on board their vessel from one coast to another, and would now stay with them as long as they might wish for their company.  This declaration suiting the depraved minds of the robbers, they laid aside their fierce looks and warlike weapons, bringing abundance of all sorts of provisions to regale their expected mistresses, with whom they sat down to a plentiful repast, which was heightened by a store of wines which the lady had brought in her boats from the ship.  Mirth and jollity prevailed; but the fumes of the liquors, in which the politic lady had infused strong opiates, suddenly operated upon their senses, and they fell down one and all in a state of stupefaction.  She then with her companions drew the sabres of their brutal admirers and put them all to death excepting the chief, whom they bound hand and foot with strong cords, and after cutting off his beard and mustachios, tied his own cimeter round his neck, leaving him to feel mortification worse than death on the recovery of his senses, namely, the sight of his slaughtered fellows, and regret at the loss of his imagined happiness.  The ladies then stripped the caves of the robbers of the vast wealth which they had hoarded up from their plunders, and having carried it on board their boats, with a stock of water and provisions, returned to the ship, weighed anchor, and sailed triumphant and rejoicing from such a dangerous coast.  After some weeks’ sail they again descried land, to which they approached, and discovered a spacious harbour, round which rose a vast city, the buildings of which were sublimely lofty, adorned with flights of marble steps to the water’s edge, and crowned with domes and minarets topped with pinnacles of gold.  The enterprising lady having anchored, clothed herself and her companions in magnificent male habits; after which she ordered the boats to be hoisted out, and they were rowed ashore by part of their crew richly dressed.  On landing, they found all the inhabitants of the city in mourning, and making doleful lamentation for their late sultan, who had died only a few days before.  The gallant appearance of a stranger so nobly attended created much surprise, and intelligence of the arrival was instantly conveyed to the vizier, who acted as regent till the election of a new monarch, which ceremony was just on the point of taking place.  The minister, who thought he perceived in such a critical arrival the work of fate, immediately waited on the now supposed prince, whom he invited to be present at the election; at the same time informing him that when in this kingdom a sultan died without issue, the laws appointed that his successor should be chosen by the alighting of a bird on his shoulder, which bird would be let fly among the crowd assembled in the square before the palace.  The seeming prince accepted the invitation, and with the disguised ladies was conducted to a gorgeous pavilion, open on all sides, to view the ceremony.  The ominous bird being loosened from his chain, soared into the air to a great height, then gradually descending, flew round and round the square repeatedly, even with the faces of the spectators.  At length it darted into the pavilion, where the lady and her companions were seated, fluttered around her head, and at length rested upon her shoulder, giving at the same time a cry of exultation, stretching its neck, and flapping its wings.  Immediately upon this, the viziers and courtiers bowed themselves to the ground, and the assembled crowd prostrated themselves on the earth, crying out, “Long live our glorious sultan, the chosen of Providence, the elected by the decrees of fate!” The disguised lady was instantly conducted to the palace, seated on a splendid throne, and proclaimed amidst the acclamations of the people, sovereign of an extensive empire; nor were the abilities of her mind unequal to the task of government.  In a few days the vizier offered to the supposed sultan his daughter in marriage; and his offer being accepted, the nuptials were celebrated with the utmost magnificence; but what was the astonishment of the bride, when, instead of being caressed, the sultan on retiring with her became cold and reserved, rose from her, and spent the night in prayer.  In the morning the sultana was questioned by her mother; who, on her relating the behaviour of the husband, observed, that possibly from his youth he might be over reserved; but that love would naturally in time operate its effect.  Several evenings past in the same manner, when the bride, mortified at such coldness, could no longer restrain herself, and said, “Why, my lord, if you disliked me, did you take me to wife? but if you love not as other men, tell me so, and I will suffer my misfortune in silence.”  The lady, moved by this remonstrance, replied, “Most virtuous princess, would that for your sake I were of the sex you suppose me; but, alas!  I am like you a woman, disappointed in love.”  She then related to her the wonderful adventures she had undergone since leaving her father’s house, at which the vizier’s daughter was so affected that she vowed for her a lasting friendship, agreed to keep her secret, and live with her till such times as chance should restore her lover.  In return for this kindness the lady promised that should the object of her affections ever arrive, he should marry them both, and that she should have the precedence in the ceremony of union.  The two friends having thus agreed, the vizier’s daughter regained her cheerfulness, and means were taken to convince her father, mother, and friends of the consummation of the nuptials.  From this time they lived in perfect happiness together, one exercising the authority of sultan to the satisfaction of the subject, and the other acting the part of a satisfied and obedient wife; but still both were anxious to meet their mutual husband.  As the capital of the kingdom was a mart for most nations of the world, the pretended sultan formed the following stratagem for discovering her beloved, not doubting but that he would travel over all parts of the world in search of the object of his affection.  She erected a most magnificent caravanserai, furnished with baths hot and cold, and every convenience for the weary traveller.  When it was finished, she issued a proclamation, that sojourners from all parts should be welcome to lodge in it, and be provided with every necessary till they could accommodate themselves in the city, or pursued, if only travellers, their journey to another part.  Over the gate of this edifice she placed an exact statue of herself, and gave orders to the guards that whatever stranger, on looking at it, should shew signs of agitation, or utter words signifying that he knew the original, should be immediately seized and confined in the palace.  Many weeks had not passed when the father of this enterprising lady, who had travelled many thousands of miles in search of his daughter, arrived at the gate, and on seeing the statue, exclaimed, “Alas! alas! how like my poor, lost child!” He was immediately carried to the palace, lodged in a magnificent apartment, treated with the highest respect; but kept in complete ignorance as to the cause of his confinement and his future fate.  Not long after this, his disconsolate nephew, who, on the departure of the treacherous captain, had wandered from city to city in hopes of finding his mistress, arrived, and repaired to the caravanserai.

On sight of the statue his feelings overcame him; he sighed and fainted:  when he was taken up by the guards and lodged in the palace, where being come to himself, he was astonished at the respect and attention paid him by the domestics, and the splendid manner in which he was entertained; but it was in vain that he inquired the cause of his detention, the only answer he could get being, “Have patience, my lord, and repose yourself till Providence shall free you from our confinement.”  Soon after this the master of the ship, who had visited port after port in hopes of recovering his vessel, reached the city, and hearing of the hospitality with which all strangers were received at the caravanserai of the sultan, repaired to the gateway; but no sooner had he cast his eyes on the statue, than he exclaimed, “Ah! how like to the artful yet virtuous woman who cheated me of my property by stealing my ship.”  Immediately he was seized by the guards, and conveyed to the palace, but treated with kindness.  Many days had not succeeded to this event, when the sultan and the vizier, whose daughter with the thirty-nine ladies had been so artfully carried away from them by the enterprising heroine of this history, made their appearance at the gateway of the caravanserai, and on beholding the statue, cried out, “Surely this is the likeness of her who deprived us of our children; ah! that we could find her and be revenged on her hypocrisy!” On saying this they were apprehended and taken to the palace, where they were conducted to apartments suitable to their rank.  In a few days afterwards the chief of the banditti, who, burning with the ireful resolution of revenging the deaths of his associates, had travelled from place to place in hopes of finding the object of his fury, arrived at the gateway, and observing the statue, roared out in a rage, “Surely this is the resemblance of my tormenter; oh! that I could meet thy original, so that I might have the satisfaction of making her blood atone for the murder of my friends!” Instantly, as he had spoken, the guards at the gate rushing upon him, bound him hand and foot, conveyed him to the palace, where he was confined in a loathsome dungeon, and fed on the coarsest viands.

The pretended sultan having now all the parties in her power, one morning ascended her throne in full audience, and commanded them to be brought before her.  When they had made their obeisance, she commanded them to relate the cause of their having journeyed to her capital; but the royal presence rendered them incapable of uttering a word:  upon which she exclaimed, “Since you cannot speak, I will;” and then discovered to their astonished minds the adventures of each, which had occasioned their travelling.  She then discovered herself, and fell upon the necks of her father and lover, with whom she retired into the private apartments.  The sultan and his vizier were made happy in the company of the daughter of the latter and the other ladies.  The master of the ship, as his troubles had atoned for his irregular behaviour, was received into favour, and had his vessel restored; but the savage chief of the banditti was put to death, by being cast into a burning pile, that no further injury might be offered to mankind.  In a few days, the most magnificent preparations being made, the double nuptials of the heroic lady and her friend the vizier’s daughter were celebrated with her constant lover, to whom she resigned her throne, and the happy wives lived together in felicity, undisturbed by jealousy of the husband’s attention to either, so equally did they share his love.  The sultan and vizier, after being long entertained at the court, took leave, and returned, under an escort, to their own country; but the daughter and the thirty-nine ladies could not be prevailed upon to accompany them, only to visit and bid farewell to their parents, for such was their attachment to their gallant mistress, that they came back immediately, and were espoused to the principle nobles of her court.  Years of unusual happiness passed over the heads of the fortunate adventurers of this history, until death, the destroyer of all things, conducted them to a grave which must one day be the resting-place for ages of us all, till the receiving angel shall sound his trumpet.

STORY OF HYJAUJE, THE TYRANNICAL GOVERNOR OF COUFEH, AND THE YOUNG SYED.

As Hyjauje (the Ommiad caliph) was was one day seated in his hall of audience, surrounded by his nobles and dependents, tremblingly awaiting his commands, for his countenance resembled that of an enraged lion, there suddenly entered, unceremoniously, into the assembly a beardless youth of noble but sickly aspect, arrayed in tattered garments, for misfortune had changed his original situation, and poverty had withered the freshness of his opening youth.  He made the customary obeisance to the governor, who returned his salute, and said, “Who art thou, boy? what hast thou to say, and wherefore hast thou intruded thyself into the company of princes, as if thou wert invited? who art thou, and of whom art thou the son?” “Of my father and mother,” replied the youth.  “But how earnest thou here?” “In my clothes.”  “From whence?” “From behind me.”  “Where art thou going?” “Before me.”  “Upon what dost thou travel?” “Upon the earth” Hyjauje, vexed at the pertness of the youth, exclaimed, “Quit this trifling, and inform me whence thou comest.”  “From Egypt.”  “Art thou from Cairo?” “Why askest thou?” said the boy?  “Because,” replied Hyjauje, “her sands are of gold, and her river Nile miraculously fruitful; but her women are wanton, free to every conqueror, and her men unstable.”  “I am not from thence, but from Damascus,” cried the youth.  “Then,” said Hyjauje, “thou art from a most rebellious place, filled with wretched inhabitants, a wavering race, neither Jews nor Christians.”  “But I am not from thence,” replied the youth, “but from Khorassan.”  “That is a most impure country,” said Hyjauje, “whose religion is worthless, for the inhabitants are of all barbarians the most savage.  Plunderers of flocks, they know not mercy, their poor are greedy, and their rich men misers.”  “I am not of them,” cried the youth, “but of Moussul.”  “Then,” exclaimed Hyjauje, “thou art of an unnatural and adulterous race, whose youths are catamites, and whose old men are obstinate as asses.”  “But I am from Yemen,” said the boy.  “If so,” answered the tyrant, “thou belongest to a comfortless region, where the most honourable profession is robbery, where the middling ranks tan hides, and where a wretched poor spin wool and weave coarse mantles.”  “But I am from Mecca,” said the boy.  “Then,” replied Hyjauje, “thou comest from a mine of perverseness, stupidity, ignorance, and slothfulness; for from among its people God raised up his prophet, whom they disbelieved, rejected, and forced away to a strange nation, who loved, venerated, and assisted him in spite of the men of Mecca.  But whence comest thou, youth? for thy pertness is become troublesome, and my inclination leads me to punish thee for thy impertinence.”  “Had I been assured that thou durst kill me,” cried the youth, “I should not have appeared before thee; but thou canst not.”  “Woe to thee, rash boy,” exclaimed Hyjauje; “who is he that can prevent my executing thee instantly?” “To thee be thy woe,” replied the youth:  “he can prevent thee who directs man and his inmost thoughts, and who never falsifieth his gracious promises.”  “He it is,” cried the tyrant, “who instigates me to put thee to death.”  “Withhold thy blaspheming,” replied the youth; “it is not God, but Satan that prompts thy mind to my murder, and with God I hope for refuge from the accursed:  but know, that I am from the glorious Medina, the seat of religion, virtue, respectability, and honour, descended of the race of Bin Ghalib, and family of Ali, son of Abou Talib, whom God has glorified and approved, and will protect all his posterity, which you would extirpate; but you cannot root it out, for it will flourish even to the last day of the existence of this world.”

The tyrant was now overcome with rage, and commanded the youthful Syed to be slain; but his nobles and officers interceded for him, saying, while they bowed their necks before him, “Pardon, pardon; behold our heads and our lives a ransom for his!  For God’s sake accept our intercession, O ameer, for this youth is not deserving of death.”  “Forbear your entreaties,” exclaimed the tyrant, “for were an angel to cry from Heaven, ‘Do not slay him!’ I would not attend.”  Upon this the young Syed said, “Thou ravest, O Hyjauje; who art thou that an angel should be commissioned for thy sake?” The tyrant, struck with his magnanimity, became calm, and commanding the executioner to release the youth, said, “For the present I forbear, and will not kill thee unless thy answers to my further questions shall deserve it.”  They then entered on the following dialogue; Hyjauje hoping to entrap him in discourse.

Hyjauje.  How can the creature approach the perfection of the Almighty?

Syed.  By prayer, by fasting, by the commanded alms, by pilgrimage, and fighting for the cause of God.

H. I serve him by shedding the blood of infidel man.  You pretend that Hassan and Houssain, your ancestors, were descendants of the prophet; but how can that be, when God has declared in the Koran Mahummud was not of your obstinate race; but the prophet of God, and last of divine messengers?

S. Hear the answer to that in the verse following it.  “Hath not a prophet come unto you of your own nation?  Receive him, and from what he hath forbidden be forbidden.”  Surely, then, God hath forbidden the shedding of the blood of him whom he sanctified.

H. Thou hast spoken justly, young man; but inform me what God hath daily and nightly commanded us as obligatory to do?

S. To pray five times.

H. What to observe in each year?

S. To keep the month of Ramzaun as a fast.

H. What to perform in the course of life?

S. To make a pilgrimage to Mecca, the temple of God.

H. Truly said; but what hath mostly dignified and enlightened
Arabia?

S. The tribe of Koreish.

H. Wherefore?

S. Because of our holy prophet’s being a member of it.

H. Who were the most skilful in horsemanship in all Arabia, the most valiant, and of best conduct in war?

S. The tribe of Hashim.

H. Why think you so?

S. Because my grandfather Imaum Ali, son of Abou Talib, was one of it.

H. What tribe of Arabs is most famous for benevolence, and celebrated for liberality?

S. The family of Tai.

H. Wherefore?

S. Because Hatim belonged to it.

H. Which of the tribes have been most disgraceful to Arabia, and most oppressive to its inhabitants?

S. The tribe of Sukkeef.

H. Why so?

S. Because thou belongest to it.

The tyrant could scarcely now contain his anger; but said, hoping to cut the youth off from reply, “Tell me, is the Capricorn of the heavens male or female?” To which he answered, “Shew me its tail, that I may inform thee.”  The tyrant laughed, and continued his questions as follows:

H. Wert thou ever in love?

S. Yes, completely immersed in it.

H. With whom?

S. With my God, who will, I trust, pardon me for my errors, and deliver me from thee this day.

H. Knowest thou thy God?

S. Yes.

H. By what means?

S. By the scriptures, which he caused to descend to his prophet.

H. Dost thou guard the Koran?

S. Does it fly from me, that I should guard it?

H. What dost thou learn from it?

S. That God commanded its rules to be obeyed.

H. Hast thou read and understood it?

S. Yes.

H. If so, tell me, first, What passage in it is most sublime.  Secondly, Which most commanding.  Thirdly, Which most just.  Fourthly, Which most alarming.  Fifthly, Which most encouraging.  Sixthly, That which Jews and Christians both believe in.  Seventhly, That in which God has spoken purely of himself; that where he speaks of the angels; that in which he mentions the prophets; that where he alludes to those destined to Paradise; and that in which he speaks of those devoted to hell; that which includes ten points; and that which Eblis the accursed delivered.

S. By God’s help I will answer thee.  The most sublime passage is the Koorsee:  the most commanding, “God insisteth on justice:”  the most just, “Whoever diminishes the least of a measure, God will requite him doubly, and the same to whoever addeth the least:”  the most alarming, “All expect to enter Paradise:”  the most encouraging, “O my servants, who have mortified yourselves, despair not of the mercy of God!” that in which are ten points, “God created the heavens and the earth, the revolutions of night and day; also, the firmament over the waters that it might profit man:”  that which is believed alike by jews and christians, “The Jew saith that the Christian is in error, and the Christian saith that the Jew is mistaken, they both believe so; and both are in error:”  that in which God hath spoken purely of himself, “I have not created genii and men but to worship me:”  that in which he speaks of the angels, “They said, we have no knowledge, but what thou hast taught us; for thou only art wise and all-knowing:”  that which speaks of the prophets, “How could we deliver you a verse without the order of God, on whom the faithful will rely:”  that which mentions the devoted to hell, “God hath cast us down from heaven, for we were transgressors:”  that which describes the blessed, “Praised be God, who hath divested us of all sorrow, for our Lord is merciful and gracious:”  that which satan spoke, “None will profit by thy mercy but thy servants the blessed.”

Hyjauje involuntarily exclaimed, “Praised be God, who giveth wisdom to whom it pleaseth him; but I have found none so learned of such tender age.”  Having thus spoken, he put many other questions to the youth in every science, and he answered them so readily that the tyrant was overcome with admiration, and offered him a residence at his court; but the young man declined it, and requested his dismission, which he granted, conferring upon him a beautiful female slave richly habited, a thousand pieces of gold, and a steed elegantly caparisoned.  The courtiers were astonished at the bounty of the tyrant, which he perceiving, said, “Be not surprised, for the advice he hath given me was worthy of reward, and ‘Cursed is he who doth not requite a sincere adviser,’ declareth our sacred Koran.”

Story of Ins al Wujjood and Wird al
Ikmaum, daughter of Ibrahim, vizier to
sultan Shamikh.

Many ages past there was a very powerful sultan who had a vizier named Ibrahim, and this minister had a daughter the most beautiful of her sex and accomplished of her age, so that she became distinguished by the appellation of Wird al Ikmaum, or the rose among flowers.  It was the custom of sultan Shamikh to hold annually a general assembly of all the nobles of his kingdom, and persons eminent for science or the arts, during which they were magnificently entertained at the royal expense.  The former displayed their prowess in martial exercises before the sovereign, and the latter the productions of their genius and skill; when valuable prizes were bestowed by the arbitration of appointed judges on those who deserved them.  On one of the days of this festival, the vizier’s daughter from a latticed balcony of the palace, in which she sat to view the sports, was so struck with the manly figure and agility of a young nobleman named Ins al Wujjood (or the perfection of human nature), that love took possession of her mind.  She pointed him out to a female confidant, and gave her a letter to convey to the object of her affections.  The young nobleman, who had heard her praises, was enraptured by his good fortune, and the next day, having obtained as full a sight of her beauties as could be had through the golden wires of the balcony, retired overcome by love.  Letters now passed daily, and almost hourly, between them; but they were impatient for a meeting, which was at length planned; but the note fixing the place and time was unfortunately dropped by the confidant and carried to the vizier; who, alarmed for the honour of his family, sent his daughter the same night to a far distant castle belonging to himself, and situated on an island in a vast lake, surrounded by mountainous deserts thinly inhabited.  The unfortunate lady was obliged to submit to her fate, but before her departure contrived to write on the outside of her balcony the following words, “They are carrying me off, but I know not where.”  In the morning her lover repairing, as usual, in hopes of seeing his mistress in the balcony, read the unwelcome intelligence, which for a time deprived him of his senses.  When somewhat recovered he resolved to leave the court, though then the chief favourite of the sultan, and go in search of his beloved.  Having put on the habit of a wandering devotee, he, on the following evening, quitted the city, and recommending himself to Providence, set out, but knew not whither.  Many weeks did he travel, but could find no traces of his beloved object; when suddenly, passing through a thick forest, there met him a monstrous lion, from whom he thought it impossible to escape, and having uttered a prayer for the happiness of his beloved, and repeated the testimony of martyrdom, he resigned himself to his fate, and waited the spring of his expected devourer.  What was his surprise when the majestic animal, instead of making him his prey, on approaching close to him, having looked compassionately in his face, licked his hands, and turning round, walked gently onwards, moving his head, as if to signify the youth should follow him.  Ins al Wujjood did so, and was conducted through the forest by the lion; who, ascending a high mountain, suddenly stopped at the entrance of a cave, to which was a door of iron, then moving his head, and once more licking the hands of his companion, the generous animal left him, and retired back to the woods.  The youth now went to the cave, and having knocked at the door, it was opened by a venerable hermit, who bade him welcome, brought him warm water to wash his feet, and set before him refreshments of various kinds.  When he had eaten, he inquired the cause of his coming to such a desolate country; and Ins al Wujjood having related his adventures, the old man exclaimed, “Thou art a favourite of Heaven, or the lion would have devoured thee; despair not, therefore, of success, for my mind presages that thou wilt be happy, nor shalt thou want my assistance.”  Ins al Wujjood having thanked him for his hospitality and generous offers, the hermit informed him, that for nearly twenty years past he had not beheld a human face till a few days prior to his coming, when, wandering over the mountains, he had seen an encampment on the margin of the great lake below, in which appeared a crowd of men and women, some very richly habited, part of whom had embarked on board a stately yacht, and the remainder having taken leave of them, struck their tents, and returned by the road they had come.  “Most probably,” said the hermit, “the yacht may have conveyed thy mistress to the castle which stands on an island in the middle of the lake, and if so thou shalt soon be safely landed:  for the rest Providence must be thy guide.  I will this night remember thee in my prayers, and meditate on what can be done for thy benefit.”  Having said this, the hermit conducted the wanderer to a chamber, and left him to his repose.

The beautiful Wird al Ikmaum during this time remained overwhelmed with uneasiness in her confinement, and it was in vain that her attendants tried to amuse her.  She wandered melancholy through the magnificent gardens of the castle, the groves of which were filled with every variety of birds, whose harmony was delightful; but the soft cooing of the turtle dove and the plaintive note of the lovelorn nightingale alone caught her attention.  To these she would listen for hours together, reclined on a mossy bank, and fancy their pensive strains the language of her beloved.  Such was her daily employment, nor would she quit the garden till forced by her attendants to take shelter from the falling dews of night.  We now return to her lover.

Fatigue and the consoling assurances of the friendly hermit had greatly composed the mind of Ins al Wujjood, who enjoyed a refreshing sleep, nor did he awake till the sun was mounted high in the heavens, when he joined his venerable host in his devotions; after which they partook of a repast of bread, milk, and fresh fruits.  This ended, the old man requested him to fetch from the forest a bundle of the filaments of palm bark, which, when brought to him, he plaited into a shape resembling a little boat, and giving it to Ins al Wujjood, said, “Repair to the lake, and put this into the water, when it will become instantly large enough to hold thee, then embark in it, and trust to Heaven for the rest.  Farewell!”

Ins al Wujjood having taken leave of his venerable friend the hermit, with many thanks, did as he had been commanded, and soon arrived on the margin of the lake, into which he launched his little vessel, when, to his great surprise, it instantaneously became a handsome boat with the sails set.  He got into it, and a fair wind springing up was soon out of sight of land.  For some days he was wafted over the deep; but at length the shore of an island appeared, on which he landed, and made his boat fast to the trunk of a large tree.  He then walked into the country, and found it beautifully interspersed with green meadows, clear streams, and shady groves of bending fruit trees, on the branches of which all sorts of birds were warbling in their different strains.  Having refreshed himself with several fruits, he proceeded onwards, and at length came in sight of a superb edifice, to the gateway of which he advanced; but found it locked.  For three days he waited in hopes of seeing some of its inhabitants, but in vain.  However on the fourth morning the gate was opened by a man, who seeing Ins al Wujjood, advanced towards him, and inquired who he was, whence he came, and what was his reason for waiting at the gate.  “I am of Ispahaun,” replied Ins al Wujjood, “and was shipwrecked in a trading voyage upon this coast, to the shore of which I alone of all my companions had the good fortune to escape.”  Upon hearing this the man burst into tears, embraced him, and said, “May God preserve thee from future calamities!  I am also a native of Ispahaun, where also dwelt my cousin, whom I dearly loved, and by whom I was beloved.  At this happy period of my youth a nation stronger than ours made war against us, overcame us, and among other captives forced me from my country; after which they sold me as a slave to my present master:  but come, my dear countryman, enter the palace, and repose thyself in my apartment, where we will endeavour to console each other under our misfortunes till Providence shall restore us to our homes.”

Ins al Wujjood gladly accepted such a friendly invitation, and on entering the court beheld a lofty and wide-spreading tree, from the branches of which were suspended several golden cages, each inhabited by a beautiful bird, and each striving to rival the other in melody, as if in welcome of his approach.  He inquired of his host to whom the splendid edifice belonged, and was informed to the vizier of sultan Shamikh; who, to secure his daughter from the vicissitudes of fortune, had lodged her here, and only visited her annually to inquire after her health, and bring the necessary supplies for her convenience and the support of her attendants in the castle.  Upon hearing the above circumstances, Ins al Wujjood was nearly overcome with ecstacy; but restraining his feelings, exclaimed to himself, “At length I have reached the abode of my beloved, and may hope for success;” which was yet, however, afar off.  His charming mistress, little thinking that her lover was so near, and weary of absence and the solitude of her abode, had that very evening resolved to escape from confinement.  In the darkness of night she accordingly let herself down from the battlements by a silken rope, which she had twisted from slips of various robes, and reached the ground unhurt.  With haste she fled towards the sea shore, where she perceived a fishing boat, the owner of which, though at first alarmed, supposing her, from her dazzling appearance (for she was covered with jewels), to be an ensnaring genie, at length, on her assurances that she was really a woman, admitted her into his vessel.  She thanked him for his kindness, which she rewarded by the gift of many rich jewels, and requested to be conveyed across the lake.  The fisherman hoisted sail, and for some hours the wind was prosperous; but now a heavy tempest arose, which tossed them constantly in imminent danger for three days, and drove them far from their intended course.  At length the gale subsided, the sea became assuaged, and land appeared.  As they approached the shore a stately city rose to their view, the buildings of which seemed unusually magnificent.  Under the terrace of the sultan’s palace they safely, at last, cast anchor; and it chanced that the prince, who was named Dara, was then sitting with his daughter in a balcony to enjoy the fresh sea breeze, and the view of the extensive harbour, crowded with the vessels of every country.  Perceiving the boat, the sultan commanded his officers to bring the master and his crew to the presence.  Great was his surprise at the introduction of the beautiful Wird al Ikmaum.  From her rich dress, dignified air, and demeanour, he concluded her to be of superior rank, and having seated her near his daughter, he graciously requested to be informed of the name of her country, and the cause of her having travelled to his capital; to which she replied in eloquent language, giving a summary detail of all her adventures.  The sultan consoled her by encouraging assurances of his protection, promised to exert his authority to effect a union with her beloved, and immediately dispatched his vizier with costly presents to sultan Shamikh, requesting him to send Ins al Wujjood to his court.

The vizier, after a prosperous voyage, having reached the capital of sultan Shamikh, presented his offerings, and made known the request of his master; to which the sultan replied, That nearly a year had elapsed since Ins al Wujjood had, to his great regret, absented himself from his court, nor had any tidings been obtained of the place of his retirement; but that he would order his vizier to accompany the ambassador in search of his retreat, being willing to oblige his master the sultan to the utmost of his power.  Accordingly, after a repose of some days, the two viziers departed in search of Ins al Wujjood, but without knowing where to bend their journey.  At length they reached the shore of the ocean of Kunnooz, on which they embarked in a hired vessel, and sailed to the mountainous island of Tukkalla, of which the vizier of sultan Shamikh gave to his companion the following account.  “This island was some ages back inhabited by genii; a princess of whom became violently enamoured of a handsome young man, a son of an ameer of the city of Misr, or Cairo, whom she beheld in her flight sleeping in his father’s garden in the heat of the day.  She sat down by him, and having gently awoke him, the youth, on looking up, to his astonishment and rapture saw a most beautiful damsel who courted his addresses:  he was not backward in offering them; and mutual protestations of love and constancy took place.  After some hours of happiness the genie princess took an affectionate leave, promising soon to visit him again, and vanished from sight.  The youth remained musing on his fortunate adventure till the dews of night began to fall, when his parents, fearful of some injury, sent attendants to conduct him to their palace, but he refused to go; and talked, as it appeared to them, so incoherently concerning his beloved, that they thought him distracted; seized him roughly, and forced him homewards.  His father and mother were alarmed:  it was in vain that they courted him to partake of refreshment; he was sullen and gloomy, and at length abruptly retired to his chamber, where he remained in restless anxiety all night, waiting impatiently for morning, that he might revisit the happy spot where his charmer had promised again to meet him.

“At early dawn the ameer’s son repaired to the garden, and was soon gratified with the sight of his beloved; but while they were exchanging mutual protestations of regard, the mother of the genie princess, who had suspected from her daughter’s conduct that she was carrying on some intrigue, and had followed her in the air unperceived, suddenly appeared.  Rushing upon the lovers, she seized her daughter by the hair, beat, and abused her in the harshest language for having disgraced the honour of the genii by an amour with a wretched son of mortality:  to all which the genie princess replied, that her remonstrances were vain; she had fixed her affections, and would rather be torn into a thousand pieces than desert the object of her heart.  The mother upon this finding the case desperate, and being herself softened by the uncommon beauty of the youth, who had fallen at her feet, entreating mercy for his beloved, at length relented, and agreed to sanctify their loves by her consent to their marriage.  It was accordingly celebrated; and this island, which after the name of the genie princess was called Tukkalla, was fixed upon for the place of their residence.  Its magnificent palace still remains, after the lapse of many ages, and is at present in my possession.  Here I hope to meet my only daughter, whom I brought to reside in it nearly a year ago, to secure her from the attempts of a young courtier, on whom she had, against my consent, fixed her affections.”

The two viziers now disembarked, and proceeded up the island; but what was the astonishment and mortification of Ibrahim on learning, when he arrived at the palace, that his daughter had escaped, nor had the attendants heard of her since her departure, though they had repeatedly searched every quarter of the island.  Perceiving among his attendants whom he had left at the palace a strange young man of pallid countenance, wasted frame, and melancholy air, the vizier inquired how he had come among them; and received for reply, that he was a shipwrecked merchant of Ispahaun, whom they had taken in for the sake of charity.  Ibrahim now requested of the vizier of sultan Dara that he would return to his master, and inform him of their vain search after Ins al Wujjood; at the same time desiring him to receive into his suite the supposed merchant as far as the city of Ispahaun, which lay in his route.  To this the vizier of sultan Dara consented:  and the two ministers having taken a friendly leave of each other separated, and departed for their several capitals.

The vizier of sultan Dara, in the course of the journey, became so pleased with the agreeable manners of the supposed merchant, that he often conversed with him familiarly; and at length the young man, emboldened by his condescending attention, ventured to inquire the cause of his travels to regions so distant from his own country:  upon which he was informed of the arrival of the beautiful Wird al Ikmaum at the court of sultan Dara; of the compassion of that sultan for her misfortunes; his generous protection; and his own fruitless mission in search of her lover Ins al Wujjood.  A this happy intelligence, the latter, overcome with ecstacy, could no longer contain himself, but discovered who he was; and the vizier was also overjoyed at knowing, when least expected, that he had found the despaired of object of his long journey.  He embraced the young man, congratulated him upon the speedy termination of absence from his beloved, and the happy union which awaited him.  He then made him an inmate of his own tents, supplied him with rich attire, and every necessary becoming the condition of a person for whose fortunes he knew his sovereign to be so highly concerned.  Ins al Wujjood, now easy in mind, and renovated by the happy prospects before him, daily recovered health and strength, so that by the time of their arrival at the capital of sultan Dara he had regained his pristine manliness and vigour.

When the vizier waited upon his master the sultan Dara to communicate his successful commission, the sultan commanded the youth to his presence.  Ins al Wujjood performed the usual obeisance of kissing the ground before the throne, with the graceful demeanour of one who had been used to a court.  The sultan graciously returned his salutation, and commanded him to be seated; after which he requested him to relate his adventures, which he did in eloquent language, interspersing in his narrative poetical quotations, and extempore verses applicable to the various incidents and situations.  The sultan was charmed with his story; and when he had finished its relation, sent for a cauzee and witnesses to tie the marriage knot between the happy Ins al Wujjood and the beautiful Wird al Ikmaum; at the same time dispatching a messenger to announce the celebration of the nuptials to sultan Shamikh and Ibrahim his vizier, who were bewailing their supposed irrecoverable losses; one that of his favourite, and the latter that of his daughter.  Sultan Dara detained the happy couple at his court for some time, after which he dismissed them with valuable presents to their own country, which they reached in safety, and were received with the most heart-felt rejoicings by the sultan and the repentant vizier, who now recompensed them by his kindness for the former cruelty of his behaviour towards them; so that in favour with the sultan, and happy in their own family, the lovers henceforth enjoyed every earthly felicity, sweetened by the reflection on past distresses, till the angel of death summoned them to submit to the final destination of mortality.

The adventures of Mazin of Khorassaun.

In ancient days there resided in the city of Khorassaun a youth named Mazin, who, though brought up by his mother, a poor widow, to the humble occupation of a dyer, was so celebrated for his personal accomplishments and capacity as to become the admiration of crowds, who daily flocked to his shop to enjoy the pleasure of his conversation.  This young man was as good as he was able, nor did flattery take away his humility, or make him dissatisfied with his laborious occupation, which he followed with industry unceasing, and maintained his mother and himself decently from the fruits of his labour.  So delicate was his taste in the choice of colours, that veils, turbans, and vests of Mazin’s dyeing were sought after by all the young and gay of Khorassaun; and many of the females would often cast a wishful glance at him from under their veils as they gave him their orders.  Mazin, however, was destined by fate not always to remain a dyer, but for higher fortunes and surprising adventures.

As he was one day busy in his occupation, a man of Hijjem came to his shop, and after looking at him earnestly for some moments, exclaimed, “Alas, that such a noble youth should be confined to drudge at so mean an employment!” “I thank you, father, for your compassion,” replied Mazin, “but honest industry can never be disgraceful.”  “True,” said the old man of Hijjem, “yet if Providence puts affluence and distinction in our way, should we refuse it?” “By no means,” said Mazin; “canst thou point me out the way to it without making me forfeit my integrity?  If so, I assure thee I am not so fond of my trade but I would be glad to live at ease in an honest manner without it; for I should like to enjoy leisure to follow my studies, which have already gained me some little celebrity.”  “Son,” said the Hijjemmee, “thy wishes shall be satisfied:  thou hast no father, but I will be one to thee; from this instant I adopt thee as my son.  I possess the art of transmuting common metals into gold:  be ready at thy shop early in the morning, when I will meet thee.  Farewell!” Having thus said, the old man took leave.

Mazin’s curiosity and ambition were raised:  he shut up his shop sooner than usual, and returned with a full heart to his mother, to whom he communicated the offered kindness of the Hijjemmee.  The good woman, after some moments of reflection, said, “Son, I fear some evil lurks under this apparent kindness, for we live in wicked days, when men profess more than they mean to do for the sake of attaining an object; be cautious then, and do not till thou hast proof of his sincerity regard his office.  We have at present all we want, and what can riches give more?” Mazin agreed to the propriety of his mother’s advice, and promised to be wary.  They ate their usual cheerful meal, and retired to rest; but the young man could sleep but little, and he longed with impatience for the morning that was to put him into possession of the art of transmuting metals into gold.

The morning arrived, and Mazin repaired impatiently to his shop, where he had soon after the satisfaction of seeing his adopted father, who came bearing in his hands a crucible.  “Welcome, son!” “Welcome, father!” was the mutual salutation; after which the Hijjemmee desired Mazin to kindle a fire:  he did so, when the old man inquired of Mazin if he had any old metal, iron, brass, copper, &c.  Mazin produced some pieces of an old pot of the latter metal, which were put into the crucible.  When melted, the Hijiemmee took from his turban a paper containing powder of a yellowish hue, which he threw into the crucible, over which he repeated some cabalistic words while he stirred the melting metal.  At length he took it from the fire, and to his astonishment Mazin beheld a large lump of pure gold, which the Hijiemmee desired him to carry to a goldsmith’s and get it exchanged for coin He did did so, and received a handsome sum, with which he returned to his adopted father.

“Well, my son,” said the Hijjemmee, “art thou now convinced of my skill, and my sincerity in offering to promote thy fortunes?” “I am,” said Mazin, “and am ready to follow wherever thou choosest, in hopes of learning this invaluable secret” “That shall soon be thine,” replied the transmuter of metals; “I will sup with thee this evening, and in the privacy of retirement give thee the necessary instruction.”  Mazin, overjoyed, immediately shut up his shop, and with his adopted father repaired to his own house, where he seated him in his best apartment.  He then went to his mother, desiring that she would go and spend the night at a neighbour’s, shewing her the gold which his broken copper had procured, as a proof of the sincerity of his new friend.  The old lady no longer doubted upon such evidence, and cheerfully took leave and departed to a friend’s house.

Mazin next went to a cook’s shop, from which he returned laden with every sort of refreshment, nor was wine forgotten, though forbidden to the faithful.  The adopted father and son ate heartily, at the same time pushing about the spirit-stirring liquor, till at last Mazin, who had not been used to drink wine, became intoxicated.  The wily magician, for such in fact was his pretended friend, watching his opportunity, infused into the goblet of his unsuspecting host a certain potent drug, which Mazin had scarcely drunk oft, when he fell back upon his cushion totally insensible, the treacherous wizard tumbled him into a large chest, and shutting the lid, locked it.  He then ransacked the apartments of the house of every thing portable worth having, which, with the gold, he put into another chest, then fetching in porters, he made them take up the chests and follow him to the seaside, where a vessel waited his orders to sail, and embarked with the unfortunate Mazin and his plunder.  The anchor was weighed, and the wind being fair, the ship was soon out of sight of the land.

Mazin’s mother early in the morning returning to her house found the door open, her son missing, and the rooms ransacked of all her valuables.  She gave a loud shriek, tore her hair, beat her bosom, and threw herself on the ground, crying out for her son, who she thought must have been murdered by the treacherous magician, against whose professions she had warned him to be cautious, till the sight of the transmuted gold had deceived her, as well as the unfortunate victim of his accursed arts.  Some neighbours hearing her lamentations rushed in, lifted her from the ground, and inquired the cause of her distress; which, when informed of, they endeavoured to alleviate by every consolation in their power, but in vain:  the afflicted old lady was not to be comforted.  She commanded a tombstone to be raised in the court-yard, over which she sat night and day bewailing her son, taking scarcely food sufficient to preserve her miserable existence.

The infidel Hijjemmee, who was a wicked magician and a worshipper of fire, by name Bharam, hated the true believers, one of whom annually for several years past he had inveigled by his offers of instructing in the science of transmuting metals into his power; and after making him subservient to his purposes in procuring the ingredients necessary for his art, had treacherously put him to death, lest the secret should be divulged:  such was now his intention towards the unfortunate Mazin.

On the evening of the second day after the sailing of the vessel, Bharam thought proper to awaken his victim to a sense of his misery.  He opened the chest, which had been placed in his cabin, and poured a certain liquid down the throat of Mazin, who instantly sneezed several times; then opening his eyes, gazed for some minutes wildly around him.  At length, seeing the magician, observing the sea, and feeling the motion of the ship, his mind surmised to him the misfortune which had happened; and he guessed his having fallen into the snares of the treacherous Bharam, against which his mother had warned him, but in vain.  Still, being a virtuous Mussulmaun, he would not complain against the decrees of Heaven; and instead of lamentation uttered the following verse of the sacred Koran:  “There is no support or refuge but from the Almighty, whose we are, and to whom we must return.  Deal gently with me, O my God, in the dictates of thy omnipotence; and make me resigned under thy chastening, O Lord of all being.”

Having finished the above prayer, Mazin turning humbly towards his accursed betrayer, said in a supplicating tone, “What hast thou done, my father? didst thou not promise me enjoyment and pleasure?” The magician, after striking him, with a scowling and malignant sneer, exclaimed, “Thou dog! son of a dog! my pleasure is in thy destruction.  Nine and thirty such ill-devoted wretches as thyself have I already sacrificed, and thou shalt make the fortieth victim to my enjoyment, unless thou wilt abjure thy faith, and become, like me, a worshipper of the sacred fire, in which case thou shalt be my son, and I will teach thee the art of making gold.”  “Cursed be thou, thy religion, and thy art,” exclaimed the enraged Mazin:  “God forbid that for the pleasures of this world I should apostatize from our holy prophet, and give up the glorious rewards reserved in certain store for his faithful disciples.  Thou mayest indeed destroy my body, but my soul despises thy torments” “Vile dog!” roared out the now furious sorcerer, “I will try thy constancy.”  He then called in his slaves, who held Mazin on the floor of the cabin while their abominable master beat him with a knotted whip till he was covered with a gore of blood, but the resolute youth, instead of complaining, uttered only prayers to Heaven for divine support under his pangs, and strength of fortitude to acquire the glory of martyrdom.  At length the magician, exhausted by his cruel exercise, desisted, and making his slaves load his unfortunate victim with heavy fetters, chained him down with only a coarse mat to lie upon in a dark closet, in which was placed some stinking water and coarse bread, just sufficient to keep up his miserable existence.  Mazin’s courage was not to be overcome He washed his wounds, and comforted himself with the hope that if he died he should enjoy the blisses of Paradise, or if Providence had decreed his continuance in life, that the same Providence would present a mode of relief from his present and future afflictions.  In this assurance he took a little of his wretched fare, and in spite of the agony of his wounds fell asleep, but only to awake to fresh misery In the morning he was again persecuted by his cruel tormentor, who for three months daily harassed him with blows, with revilings, and every sort of insult that malice could invent or cruelty devise.

Hitherto the wind had been fair, and the vessel had nearly reached the desired haven, when suddenly it changed, and a most tremendous storm arose The waves threatened to swallow up or dash the vessel in pieces, so that all gave themselves over for lost.  At this crisis the sailors, who believed that the tempest was sent by Heaven as a judgment for their suffering the unfortunate Mazin to be so cruelly tormented, went in a body to the accursed Bharam, and accused him of having brought down the wrath of God upon the crew by his persecution of the young Mussulmaun; at the same time threatening to cast him overboard if he did not instantly release the youth from his confinement.  To show the seriousness of their resolves, the sailors seized the slaves who had been the instruments of the magician’s cruelty, and threw them into the sea, which so alarmed the treacherous Bharam that he immediately released Mazin from his chains, fell at his feet, begging pardon for his hard usage, and promising if they escaped the storm to conduct him safely to his own country, and fulfil his promise of instructing him in the secret of making gold.  Wonderful to relate!  But no sooner was Mazin freed from his fetters than the violence of the tempest lessened, by degrees the winds subsided, the waves abated their swell, and the sea no longer threatened to overwhelm them:  in a few hours all was calm and security, and a prosperous gale enabled the shattered vessel to resume her course.

The sailors now regarding Mazin as one immediately befriended by Heaven, treated him with the greatest respect and attention; and the hypocritical magician pretending sorrow for his late cruelties, strove to procure his forgiveness and good opinion by every art of flattery and affected contrition; which had such an effect on the ingenuous youth that he forgot his treachery, again believed his fair promises and assurances that the torments he had undergone had only been inflicted as trials of his constancy and belief in the true religion, virtues necessary to be proved before the grand secret of transmuting metals could be trusted to his keeping.

The remainder of the voyage was prosperous and happy, and at the expiration of three months more the vessel anchored on the wished for coast, which was rocky, and the beach strewed with pebbles of every colour.  The magician having given orders to the master of the vessel to wait a month for their return, disembarked with Mazin, and they proceeded together into the country.  When they had got out of sight of the ship the magician sat down, and taking from his vestband a small drum, began to beat upon it with two sticks, when instantly a whirlwind arose, and a thick column of dust rolled towards them from the desert.  Mazin was alarmed, and began to repent having left the vessel; when the magician, seeing his colour change, desired him to calm his apprehensions, for which there was no cause, that he had only to obey his orders and be happy.  He had scarcely spoken when the wind ceased, the dust dispersed, and three camels stood before them, one of which was laden with water and provisions; the others were bridled and very richly caparisoned.  Bharam having mounted one, and, at his desire, Mazin the other, they travelled without ceasing, except to take the necessary refreshment and repose, for seven days and nights successively over a wild and sandy desert.

On the eighth morning they reached a beautifully fertile tract, delightfully watered by clear streams; the ground verdant, shaded by spreading trees laden with fruit, on whose branches various birds warbled melodiously, and beneath them antelopes and other forest animals sported unmolested.  At the end of a thick avenue rose to view a capacious dome of blue and green enamel, resting upon four columns of solid gold, each pillar exceeding in value the treasures of the sovereigns of Persia and Greece.  They approached the dome, stopped their camels and dismounted, and turned the animals to graze.  This splendid building was surrounded by a delightful garden, in which the now happy Mazin and the magician reposed themselves all that day and night.  At some distance from this enchanting spot appeared a stupendous fabric, whose numerous turrets and lofty pinnacles glittered to the eye, and denoted a palace of uncommon magnificence, so that the curiosity of Mazin was raised, and he could not help inquiring of his companion to whom such a superb edifice might belong.  The magician, rather roughly, desired him for the present to ask no questions concerning a place which belonged to his most bitter enemies, who were evil genii, and of whom at a proper time he would give him the history.  Mazin was silent, but from the magician’s manner he began to forbode some new treachery.

In the morning Bharam beat his magical drum, and the three camels appealed, when Mazin and his companion mounted, pursuing their journey in the same manner as before for seven days, with a speed more resembling flight than the pace of travel, for their camels were supernatural.  On the eighth morning the magician inquired of Mazin what he saw on the horizon.  “I behold,” said he, “to appearance, a range of thick black clouds extending from east to west.”  “They are not clouds,” replied Bharam, “but lofty mountains, called the Jubbal al Sohaub, or mountains of clouds, from their cloud-like appearance, on their summit lies the object of our journey, which with thy assistance we shall soon obtain, and return to our vessel more enriched than all the sovereigns of the world, but thou must be sure to obey me in whatever I may command.”  Mazin promised to do so, but his heart trembled within him as he beheld the gloomy prospect before him, and recollected the boast which the accursed magician had made of his having sacrificed thirty-nine youthful victims on these mountains, and also his threat on board the ship to make the fortieth offering of himself.  He repented of having trusted himself from the vessel, but it was now too late to recede.  He resigned himself to the same Providence who had relieved his sufferings in his voyage, and concealed, as well as he could, his uneasiness from the magician, who now endeavoured to sooth and flatter him with artful promises and caresses.

For four days longer they pursued their route, when it was stopped by the black mountains, which formed, as it were, a wall inaccessible, for the precipices were perpendicular, as if scarped by art, and their tremendous height cast a dark and gloomy shade to a vast distance.  They now dismounted, and turned their camels to graze, when the magician took out of his package three loaves and a sum of water, after which he lighted a fire; then having beat his talismanic drum, the camels again appeared, the smallest of which he killed, embowelled, and carefully flayed off the skin, the inside of which he washed with water.  Having done thus, he addressed Mazin, saying, “My son, the task must now be thine to crown our labours with success.  Enter this skin, with these loaves and this water bag for thy sustenance while thou remainest on the summit of the mountain.  Be not afraid, for no harm can happen I will sew up the skin, leaving room enough for the admission of air.  By and by a roc will descend, and seizing it in her talons carry thee easily through the air.  When she shall have alighted on the table-land of the mountain, rip open the stitches of the skin with thy dagger, and the roc on seeing thee will be instantly scared, and fly far away.  Then arise, gather as much as possible of a black dust which thou wilt find thickly strewed on the ground; put it into this bag, and throw it down to me, after which I will contrive an easy means for thy descent, and when thou hast rejoined me we will return to our vessel, and I will convey thee safely back to thy own country.  The dust, which has the quality of transmuting metals into gold, we will share between us, and shall each have enough to rival all the treasuries on earth.”

Mazin finding it in vain to oppose, allowed himself to be sewn up in the camel’s skin with the loaves and water, recommending himself by mental prayer to the protection of Allah and his prophet.  The magician having finished his work retired to some distance, when, as he had said, a monstrous roc, darting from a craggy precipice, descended with the rapidity of lightning, grasped the skin in her widely extended talons, and soaring swifter than the eagle soon alighted on the table-land of the mountain; when Mazin, feeling himself on the ground, ripped the stitches of his dangerous enclosure, and the roc being alarmed, uttered a loud scream and flew away.  Mazin now arose, and walked upon the surface of the mountain, which he found covered with black dust; but he beheld also the skeletons of the young men whom the accursed Bharam, after they had served his purpose, had left to perish.  His blood became chilled with horror at the view, as he apprehended the same unhappy fate:  he however filled his bag with the black powder, and advanced to the edge of a precipice, from which he beheld the magician eagerly looking upwards to discover him.  Mazin called out; and when the hypocrite saw him, he began dancing and capering for joy, at the same time exclaiming, “Welcome, welcome, my son! my best friend, beloved child! all our dangers are now over, throw me down the bag.”  “I will not,” said Mazin, “but will give it thee when thou hast conveyed me safely from this perilous summit.”  “That is not in my power,” answered Bharam, “till I shall have the bag:  cast it down, and I swear by the fire which I worship immediately to procure thee a safe descent.”  Mazin, relying on his oath, and seeing no other chance of escape, cast down the bag; which having taken up, the accursed sorcerer mounted his camel and was departing.  The unhappy Mazin in agony called after him, saying, “Surely thou wilt not forfeit thy oath, nor leave me to perish!” “Perish thou must, Mussulmaun dog!” exclaimed the treacherous magician, “that my secret may be kept, nor can thy boasted prophet save thee from destruction; for around thee are mountains impassable, and below a fathomless sea.  I have obtained what I wished, and leave thee to thy fate.”  Having said thus he speeded onwards, and was soon out of sight.

Mazin was now in an agony of despair, not a ray of hope comforted his mind; he beat his bosom, threw himself on the ground amid the mouldering skeletons of the former victims to the treachery of the magician, and lay for some time in a state of insensibility.  At length the calls of hunger and thirst forced him back to a sense of wretched existence; and the love of life, however miserable, made him have recourse to his water and his loaves.  Being somewhat revived, religion came to his aid, and he began to pray for resignation to submit to the decrees of Heaven, however painful.  He then walked to the edge of the mountain overhanging the sea, which he observed to wash the base of the rock without any beach, at sight of which a desperate chance of escape struck his mind:  this was, to throw himself from the precipice into the ocean, in hopes, should he survive the fall and rise to the surface, he might reach land.  He commended himself to God, shut his eyes, held in his breath, and giving a desperate spring, plunged headlong into the dreadful abyss, which providentially received him unhurt, and a friendly wave drove him on shore; where, however, he remained some minutes in a lifeless stupor, owing to the rapidity of his descent from the brain-sickening precipice.

When his senses returned Mazin looked wildly around him, at first scarcely able to bear the light from the recollection of the dizzy eminence from which he had plunged; and an uneasy interval elapsed before he could persuade himself that the certainty of death was past.  Convinced at length of this, he prostrated himself to the earth, and exclaimed, “In God alone is our refuge and support!  I thought I should have perished, but his providence has sustained me.”  He then wept exceedingly, entreated forgiveness of his offences, read several passages from the Koran, which he had preserved in his vestband, repeated the whole of his rosary, and besought the intercession of the prophet for his deliverance from future dangers.  After this he walked onwards till evening, the fruits of the forest his food, his drink the water of the streams, and his resting place the green turf.  Such was his progress, that after three days he reached the spot under the mountain where he had been taken up by the roc in the camel’s skin.  He now recognized the road he had come; and after measuring back his steps for nine days, beheld on the last the superb palace, concerning which he had inquired of the magician, who had informed him it was inhabited by evil genii, his most bitter enemies.

For some time Mazin hesitated whether he should advance to the gates of the palace; but considering that no greater calamity could happen to him than he had already endured, he contemned danger, and boldly advanced to a grand lodge built of white marble exquisitely polished.  He entered, and beheld on one of the raised platforms which skirted the passage into the court two beautiful damsels playing at the game of chess; one of whom on beholding him exclaimed, “Surely, sister, this is the young man who passed this way about a month ago with Bharam the magician?” “I am he!” exclaimed Mazin, at the same time throwing himself at her feet, “and entreat your hospitable protection.”  The lady, raising him from the ground, said, “Stranger, you resemble so much a once beloved brother, that I feel inclined to adopt thee as such, if my sister will also agree to do so.”  The other lady readily assented.  They then embraced Mazin, seated him between them, and requested to be informed of his adventures, of which he gave them a true narration.

When Mazin had concluded his story, the ladies expressed compassion for his misfortunes, and the strongest resentment against the accursed magician, whom they vowed to punish by a tormenting death for having had the insolence to accuse them of being evil genii.  They then proceeded to acquaint him with the cause of their residence in this secluded palace, saying, “Brother, for as such we shall henceforward regard you, our father is a most potent sultan of a race of good genii, who were converted by Solomon, the son of David, to the true faith; we are seven daughters by the same mother; but for some cause which we do not know the sultan our father, being fearful of our becoming connected with mankind, has placed us in this solitary spot.  This palace was erected by genii for our accommodation; the meadows and forests around it are delightful, and we often amuse ourselves with field sports, there being plenty of every sort of game, as you must have observed.  When we want horses or camels we have only to beat a small magical drum, and they instantly attend our call, ready caparisoned.  Our five sisters are at present at the chase, but will soon return.  Set thy heart at rest, forget thy misfortunes, which are now at an end, and thou shall live with us in ease and pleasure.”

The five sisters soon returned, and Mazin’s adventures being recounted to them they also adopted him as their brother; and he continued with these ladies, who strove to divert him all in their power by repeated rounds of amusements:  one day they hunted, another hawked, another fished, and their indoor pleasures were varied and delightful; so that Mazin soon recovered his health, and was happy to the extent of his wishes.  A year had elapsed, when Mazin one day riding out for his amusement to the enamelled dome supported on four golden columns, perceived under it the accursed magician, and with him a youth, whom, like himself, he had inveigled into his snares, and devoted also to destruction.  The rage of Mazin was kindled at the sight; he drew his sabre, and rushing unperceived behind the sorcerer, who was in the act of flaying a camel for the purposes already described, seized him by his hair, and exclaimed, “Wretch! the judgment of Heaven at length hath overtaken thee, and soon shall thy impure soul be plunged into that fire thou hast blasphemously adored.”  The magician struggled, but in vain.  He then implored for mercy and forgiveness; but Mazin, convinced by experience that he deserved none, struck off his head at one blow.  Then informing the intended victim, who stood near gazing with astonishment, of the wicked arts of the accursed Bharam, and of his own narrow escape from almost certain destruction, he advised the young man to remount his camel, and return to the spot where he had disembarked from the vessel, which would safely convey him back to his own country.  The youth, having thanked him for his deliverance, took his leave; and Mazin returned to the palace, carrying with him the head of the magician as a trophy of his victory.  He was highly applauded for his prowess by the sisters, who rejoiced in the destruction of so cruel an enemy to mankind.

Many days had not elapsed after this event, when one morning Mazin and the sisters sitting together in a gallery of the palace, observed a thick cloud of dust rising from the desert and approaching towards them.  As it came nearer they perceived through it a troop of horsemen; upon which the sisters, desiring Mazin to retire into an inner chamber, went to the gateway to inquire who the strangers might be.  They were servants of the genie sultan, father to the ladies, and sent by him to conduct them to his presence, in order to attend the nuptials of a near relation.  Upon this summons the sisters prepared for the journey, and at the end of three days departed, assuring Mazin that they would return in a month.  At taking leave they gave him the keys of every apartment in the palace, telling him that he might open every door except one, which to enter might be attended with unpleasant consequences, and therefore had better be avoided.  Mazin promised to observe their caution; and for many days was so well amused in examining the magnificent rooms and curiosities of the palace, that he did not feel a wish to transgress till the forbidden door alone remained unopened.  Having then nothing to divert him, he could not resist the impulse of curiosity, but unlocked the door, which opened on a marble staircase by which he ascended to the terraced roof of the palace, from whence a most delightful prospect feasted his sight.  On one side his eye was arrested by an extensive garden, in the centre of which, under shady trees, was a basin of clear water, lined with gems of every colour and description.  He resolved to visit this enchanting object; and descending the staircase, explored his way through a long arcade, which led him at length into the garden, in which he diverted himself with the scenery it afforded for some time.  He then retired to an alcove on the margin of the basin, and sat down; but had not rested many moments, when to his astonishment he beheld descending from the sky a company of beautiful damsels, whose robes of light green silk floating in the air seemed their only support.  Alarmed at such a preternatural appearance, he retired to the end of the alcove, from whence he watched their motions.  They alighted on the brink of the water, and having thrown off their robes, stood to the enraptured view of Mazin in native loveliness.  Never had he beheld such enchanting beauty; but one even more exquisitely charming than the rest attracted his gaze, and from the instant fixed the affections of his heart.  They now plunged into the basin, where for some time they amused themselves by swimming, every now and then playfully dashing the water over themselves and at each other.  When satiated with frolic they came out of the water, sat for some time on the verdant margin, then dressed themselves, and adjusting their robes to the air, soared aloft, and were soon far from the sight of the enamoured Mazin, who followed them till his eyes could stretch no farther; then despairing of ever again beholding the object of his affections, he fainted on the grass, and it was some time before he recovered his senses.  He returned melancholy to the palace, and spent the night in reposeless agitation.

The following morning the seven sisters returned; and she who had first welcomed him to their abode, and had ever since retained for Mazin the purest affection, ran with eagerness to inquire after his health.  Great was her affliction on beholding him upon his bed, pale, and apparently in a state of rapid decay.  After many kind questions, to which he returned no answers, she entreated earnestly, by the vow of brotherly and sisterly adoption which had past between them, that he would inform her of the cause of his unhappy dejection; assuring him that she would use every exertion to remove it, and gratify his wishes, be they what they might, however difficult to be obtained.  Mazin upon this, in a feeble tone, related his adventure in the garden; and declared that unless the beautiful (he supposed celestial) damsel could be obtained for him he must die of grief.  The sister bade him be comforted, for in a short time his desires should be satisfied, which revived his spirits, and he accompanied his kind hostess to welcome home her sisters, who received him with their usual hospitality, but were grieved and alarmed at the sad alteration in his appearance, of which they inquired the reason, and were informed that it was the effect of absence from his generous patronesses.

The next morning the sisters went upon a hunting excursion for ten days, only one (his kindest friend) remained in the palace, under pretence of attending Mazin, whose health, she said, was too delicate to bear the exercise of the chase.  When the others were departed, she informed Mazin that the beautiful beings he had seen in the garden were of a race of genie much more powerful than her own, that they inhabited a country surrounded by seas and deserts not to be approached by human exertion, that the ladies he beheld were sisters to the queen of these genii, whose subjects were entirely female, occasionally visited by male genii, with whom they were in alliance for the sake of population, and to whom all the males were sent away as soon as born.  She further told him, that these females had the power, from their silken robes, of soaring through the air with a flight an hundred times swifter than that of any bird, that they were fond of recreating in verdant spots, and bathing in the clearest waters, and that the garden he had seen them in was a favourite place of their resort, so that they would probably soon visit it again.  “Possibly,” continued she, “they may recreate themselves there to-day; we will be on the watch, and if they appear, you must fix your eye on your favourite, mark where she places her robes, and while they are in the water seize and conceal them, for deprived of these she cannot fly away, and you may make her your prisoner.  Bring her to the palace, and endeavour by tenderness and endearing attention to gain her affection and consent to marriage; but remember when she is in your power to keep her robes from her, for should she regain possession of them she would certainly return to the Flying Islands, and you would see her no more.”

Mazin and his adopted sister now repaired to the garden, and seated themselves in the alcove, nor had they been there long when the fair genii appeared as before, descended on the margin of the basin, and all having undressed, each laying her robes by themselves, rushed playfully into the water, in which they began to swim, dive, and besprinkle playfully each other.  Mazin, whose eager eye had ardently watched his beloved, swiftly, but cautiously, snatching up the robes of his mistress, conveyed them to the alcove unobserved by the fair bathers; who, when they had sufficiently amused themselves, quitted the water, and ascending the bank, began to dress; but how can we describe the distressful confusion of the unhappy genie whose robes had been stolen?  Big tears rolled down her beautiful cheeks, she beat her bosom, tore her hair, and uttered loud shrieks, while her sisters, instead of consoling her, were concerned only for their own safety, and dressing themselves with confused haste, bade her farewell, mounted into the air, and disappeared.  On their departure, Mazin and his adopted sister approached, and saluting the disconsolate genie endeavoured to console her, but for the present in vain, her mind being intent only on the sad captivity she thought awaited her, and the loss of her native country and relations.  They led her gently to the palace, and Mazin, retiring respectfully, left her to the care of his adopted sister, who by a thousand endearments and attentions so gained upon her, that in two days the genie began to recover her spirits, and consented to receive Mazin as her husband, when the ladies should return from the chase.  On their arrival at the palace they were informed by their sisters of what had happened, and introduced to the fair stranger; who, diverted by their company and attentions, now scarcely regretted her captivity.  Preparations were made for the nuptials, and in a short time Mazin was made happy in the possession of his beloved genie.  A round of festivities succeeded their marriage, and the seven sisters strove with each other who should by invention of new amusements make their residence among them most delightful to the happy pair Mazin, however, now began to think of his mother and his native city with fond regret, and at length begged leave of his kind patronesses to return home, to which request they, from admiration of his filial love, though unwilling to part, consented, and a day was fixed for his departure.  The time being arrived, the sisters beat their magical drum, when several camels appeared at the gates of the palace heavily laden with the richest goods, a large sum of money, valuable jewels, and refreshments for the journey, led by proper attendants.  One camel carried a splendid litter for the conveyance of his wife, and another was richly caparisoned for the use of Mazin, who, having taken an affectionate leave of his generous benefactresses, whom he promised to revisit at some future time, departed, and pursued the route back towards the sea shore, where he had disembarked with the magician.  On the journey nothing remarkable occurred, and on their arrival at the coast they found a vessel ready to receive them, when the wind proving fair, a short time carried them safely to Bussorah, where Mazin had the satisfaction of finding his mother alive, though greatly wasted with constant grief and lamentation for his loss.  To describe the joy of their meeting is impossible, for never was there more tender affection between parent and child than subsisted between Mazin and his mother.  She seemed to gain new life from his recovery, and again to grow young.  The fair genie, who was now in the way of being a mother, appeared perfectly contented in her situation, and Mazin, so unexpectedly restored to his country, was happy in the possession of all he wished; for the generous sisters had bestowed such wealth upon him, that, in addition to the domestic felicity he enjoyed, he was now one of the richest persons in all Bussorah.

Three years had rolled away in undisturbed happiness, during which the fair genie had borne him two sons, when Mazin thought it grateful to perform his promise to the seven sisters, the benevolent foundresses of his good fortune.  Having accordingly made preparations for his journey, he committed his wife’s native robes to the care of his mother, giving her the key of a secret recess in which he had lodged them, but with a strict charge not to let the genie put them on, lest an irresistible impulse might inspire her to fly away to her own country; for though in general she had seemed contented, he had heard her now and then express a wish to be again with her own friends and species.  The mother promised obedience, and Mazin having taken an affectionate leave of her, his wife and children, with assurances of speedy return, embarked on board a vessel and pursued his voyage, which was uncommonly prosperous.  On his landing he found camels waiting his arrival on the beach, for the genie ladies, by magic arts, knew of his coming, and had stationed them for his conveyance to their palace, which he reached in safety, and was received with the most affectionate welcomes and hospitality.

Some time after the departure of Mazin, his wife requested her mother-in-law’s permission to amuse herself at a public bath, and the old lady willingly accompanied her and the children to the most celebrated hummaum in the city, which was frequented by the ladies and those of the chief personages of the court, the caliph Haroon al Rusheed then happening to be at Bussorah.  When they reached the bath there were then in it some of the principal female slaves, attendants of Zobeide, who, on the entrance of Mazin’s wife, were struck with her uncommon beauty, and instantly collecting round her, rapturously gazed upon her as she was undressing.

The slaves of Zobeide did not cease to admire Mazin’s wife till she left the hummaum, and even followed her till she entered her own house, when dusk had begun to gloom, and they became apprehensive of their mistress’s being displeased at their long absence, and so it happened.

Upon entering into her presence, Zobeide exclaimed, “Where have ye loitered, and what has been the cause of your unusually long stay at the hummaum?” Upon which they looked confusedly at each other, and remained silent.  The sultana then said in anger, “Instantly inform me of the cause of your delay!” when they related the wonderful beauty of Mazin’s wife, and dwelt so much upon her charms, that Zobeide was overcome by curiosity to behold them.  On the following day she sent for the mother of Mazin, who obeyed the summons with fear and trembling, wondering what could have made the caliph’s consort desirous of seeing a person of her inferior rank.

Mazin’s mother prostrated herself, and kissed the feet of the sultana, who graciously raising her, said, “Am Mazin, our wish is that you introduce to me your son’s wife, of whose beauty I have heard such a description, that I long to behold her.”

When the mother of Mazin heard these words, her heart sunk within her, she trembled, but dared not refuse the command of Zobeide, and she said, “To hear is to obey!” after which she took leave, with the usual ceremony of prostration before the throne of the sultana.

When the mother of Mazin left the princess Zobeide she returned towards her own house; and when she had reached it, entered to her son’s wife, and said, “Our sultana Zobeide hath invited thee to an entertainment.”  The wife of Mazin was delighted, instantly rose up, arrayed herself in the richest apparel she was mistress of, and dressed her two children in their choicest garments and ornaments Then with them, the mother of her husband, and a black slave, she proceeded, till they reached the palace of the princess Zobeide, which they entered, and found her sitting in impatient expectation.  They kissed the ground be fore her, and prayed for her prosperity.

When the sultana Zobeide beheld the wife of Mazin her senses were confounded, her heart fluttered, she was astonished at her beauty, elegance, graceful stature, and blooming complexion, and exclaimed, “Gracious heaven!  Where could such a form as this have been created?” Then she seated her guests, and ordered a collation to be brought in, which was done immediately, when they ate and were satisfied, but Zobeide could not keep her eyes from the wife of Mazin of Bussorah.  She kissed her, and questioned her concerning what had befallen herself and her husband.  Her astonishment was redoubled on the relation of their adventures.

The wife of Mazin then said, “My princess, if you are thus surprised, though you have not seen me in my native robes, how would you be delighted at my appearance in them!  If, therefore, you wish to gratify your curiosity by beholding a miracle, you must command the mother of my husband to bring my country dress.”  Upon this Zobeide commanded the mother of Mazin to fetch the flying robes, and as she dared not disobey the sultana of the caliph, she went home, and speedily returned with them.  Zobeide took them into her hands, examined them, and was surprised at their fashion and texture.  At length she gave them to the wife of Mazin.

When the wife of Mazin had received the robes, she unfolded them, and going into the open court of the palace, arrayed herself in them, then taking her children in her arms, mounted with them suddenly into the air.  When she had ascended to about the height of sixty feet, she called out to the mother of her husband, saying, “Give my adieu, dear mother, to my lord, and tell him, should ardent love for me affect him he may come to me in the islands of Waak al Waak.”  After this speech she soared towards the clouds, till she was hidden from their eyes, and speeded to her own country.

When the mother of Mazin beheld her in the air, she beat her cheeks, scattered dust upon her head, and cried aloud to the princess Zobeide, “This is thy mischief.”  Zobeide was not able to answer or reprove her boldness from the excess of her sorrow and regret, which made her repent, when repentance could not avail.  The old lady returned in despair to her own habitation.

Thus it happened to the persons above mentioned, but how was it with the affairs of Mazin?  He did not cease travelling for some time, till he arrived at the palace of the seven sisters, and paid his respects.  They were rejoiced at his arrival, and inquired after his wife, when he informed them she was well, and that God had blessed him with two children, both sons, which added to their satisfaction.  He remained with them for some time, after which he entreated their permission to depart.  They took a tender leave of him, when he bade them farewell, and returned towards his own country; nor did he halt till he arrived in safety at Bussorah.  When he entered his house he found his mother alone, mournfully weeping and lamenting what had happened in his absence.  Seeing her in this state, he inquired the cause, upon which she informed him of all that had occurred, from the beginning to the conclusion.

When Mazin had heard the unwelcome intelligence, he cried out in an agony of distress for the loss of his wife and children, fell fainting to the ground, and forgot his own existence.  His mother, on beholding his condition, beat her cheeks, and sprinkled water upon his face till he came to himself, when he wept and said to his mother, “Inform me what my wife may have spoken on her departure.”  She repeated her farewell words:  upon hearing which his distress and ardent longing for his wife and children was redoubled.  He remained mournfully at home for the space of ten days, after which he resolved upon the journey to the islands of Waak al Waak, distant from Bussorah one hundred and fifty years of travel.

Mazin departed from his mother after he had taken leave and entreated her prayers for his success, but the aged matron was so affected that she ordered her tomb to be prepared, and did nothing but weep and lament night and day for her son, who did not halt till he had reached the palace of the seven sisters.  When they saw him they were surprised, and said to one another, “There must be some urgent cause for his returning so speedily.”  They saluted him, and inquired after his affairs:  upon which he informed them of the desertion of his wife, what she had said at going away, and of his resolves to travel to the islands of Waak al Waak.  The seven ladies replied, “This expedition is impossible to be accomplished either by thee or any of thy race; for these islands are distant a hundred and fifty years’ journey, so that thou canst not live to reach them.”  Mazin exclaimed, “My attempting it, however, is incumbent upon me, though I may perish on the road:  if God has decreed my reunion with my wife I shall meet her again; but if not, I shall die and be received into the mercy of the Almighty.”  The sisters did not cease to importune him to lay aside the journey, but it was impossible for him to obey them or remain at ease; upon which their grief for his situation increased.  They knew that the distance was such as he could never overcome by human aid, or rejoin his wife, but they respected his ardent love for her and his children.

On this account they consulted with one another how to assist him on the journey.  He remained with them a month, but unable to repose or enjoy their entertainments.  The sisters had two uncles, one named Abd al Kuddoos, and the other Abd al Sulleeb, who lived at three months distance from them, to whom they wrote in recommendation of Mazin as follows.

“The bearer is our friend Mazin of Bussorah.  If you can direct him how to reach the islands of Waak al Waak, assist him; but if not, prevent him from proceeding, lest he plunge himself into destruction.  At present he will not attend to our advice or reproofs, from excess of love to his wife and children, but through you there may finally occur to him safety and success.”

When they had sealed this letter they gave it to Mazin, and bestowed also upon him, of water and provisions, what would suffice for three months’ consumption, laden upon camels, and a steed for his conveyance, upon which he took leave of them with many thanks, fully resolved to pursue his journey to the islands of Waak al Waak.

With much pain and difficulty he pursued his journey, nor had he any pleasure either in eating or drinking during the three months of his pilgrimage.  At length he reached a verdant pasturage, in which was a variety of flowers, flocks of sheep, and cattle feeding.  It was indeed a paradise upon earth.  In one part of it he perceived a pleasant eminence on which were buildings:  he advanced to them, and entered a court.  Within it he beheld a venerable looking personage, his beard flowing to his middle, whom he saluted; when the sage returned his compliments, welcomed him with respectful demeanour, and congratulated him on his arrival.  He seated him, and laid before him a collation, of which they both ate till they were satisfied.

Mazin lodged with him that night, and in the morning the sage inquired of him his situation, and the reason of his coming to such a sequestered spot.

Mazin informed him; and, behold! this personage was Abd al Kuddoos; who, when he heard his guest mention particulars of his brother’s children, redoubled his attentions to him, and said, “Did they give you any letter?” Mazin replied, “Yes.”  He eagerly exclaimed, “Give it to me.”  He gave it him, when he opened it, read it to himself, and considered the contents word byword.

Abd al Kuddoos gazed earnestly at Mazin; reflected on his adventures, at which he was astonished; and how he had plunged himself into danger and difficulty in such a wild pursuit.  He then said to him, “My son, my advice is, that thou return by the way which thou hast come, and no longer vex thy soul on account of impossibilities, for this business thou canst not accomplish.  I will write to the daughters of my brother what shall make thee happy with them, and restore thy peace.  Return then to them, and perplex not thyself farther, for between this spot and the islands of Waak al Waak is the distance of a hundred and fifty years’ journey.  On the way also are numerous perils, for in it are the abodes of genii, the haunts of wild beasts, and monstrous serpents, and some parts also where food cannot be had or thirst be gratified.  Have compassion then, my son, upon thyself, and rush not on destruction.”

Abd al Kuddoos continued to dissuade him from his resolution during three days, but he would not hear advice or reproof.  On the third he prepared to depart, being sufficiently refreshed; upon which the old man, seeing his steadiness, arose, kindled a fire, cast into it some perfumes, and uttered incantations, to Mazin unintelligible; when suddenly appeared a genie, in stature forty cubits; he was one of the subdued spirits of our lord Solomon.  He muttered and growled, saying, “For what, my lord, hast thou summoned me here? shall I tear up this eminence by the roots, and hurl it beyond the mountains of Kaaf?”

Abd al Kuddoos replied, “God be merciful to thee; I have occasion for thee, and request that thou wilt accomplish my wish in one day:”  upon which the genie answered, “To hear is to obey.”

Abd al Kuddoos then said to the genie, “Take up this young man, and convey him to my brother Abd al Sullecb.”  He consented, though the distance was a common journey of seventy years.  The genie advanced, seized Mazin, and placing him upon his shoulders, soared with him through the air from morning till sunset, when he descended before Abd al Sulleeb, paid his respects, and informed him of the commands of his brother Abd al Kuddoos.  Upon this he greeted Mazin, who presented him the letter from the daughters of his brother, which he opened and read.  When he had examined the contents, he was astonished at the circumstances which had befallen Mazin, his arrival with him, and his resolve to penetrate to the islands of Waak al Waak.  He then said to him, “My son, I advise that thou vex not thyself with these difficulties and dangers, for thou canst never attain thy object, or reach these islands.”

Mazin now began to despair, and at the remembrance of his wife and children to weep bitterly, insomuch that he fainted, which, when Abd al Sulleeb beheld, his heart sympathized with his unhappy condition.  He perceived that he would not return from his pursuit, or be controlled, and therefore thought it best to assist his progress towards the islands.  Going into another apartment, he kindled a fire, over which he sprinkled some perfumes, and uttered incantations; when, lo! ten genii presented themselves before him, and said, “Inform us, my lord, what thou desirest, and we will bring it thee in an instant.”  He replied, “May God be gracious unto you!” and related to them the story of Maxin, his wife, and children.

When the ten genii had heard the narration, they exclaimed, “This affair is wonderful and miraculous; however, we will take and convey him safely over the mountains and deserts, to the extent of our country and dominion, and leave him there, but cannot promise further assistance, as we dare not pass a step beyond our own territories, for the land belongs to others.  In it are innumerable horrors, and we dread the inhabitants.”  Mazin having heard what they said, exclaimed, “I accept your offer with gratitude.”

The ten genii now took up Mazin, soared with him through the air for a night and day, till they came to the limits of their territories, and then set him down in a country called the land of Kafoor, took, their leaves, and vanished from his sight.  He walked onwards, and did not neglect to employ his tongue in prayer, beseeching from God deliverance and the attainment of his wishes.  Often would he exclaim, “O God, deliverer from bondage, who canst guide in safety over mountains, who feedest the wild beasts of the forest, who decreest life and death, thou canst grant me if thou choosest relief from all my distress, and free me from all my sorrows.”

In this manner did he travel onwards during ten days; on the last of which he beheld three persons contending with each other, each man trying to kill his fellow.  He was astonished at their conduit, but advanced towards them.  Upon his approach they desisted from combat, and one and all exclaimed, “We will be judged before his young man, and whoever contradicts his opinion shall be deemed in the wrong.”  To this they agreed, and coming up to Mazin, demanded from him a just arbitration in their dispute.  They then displayed before him a cap, a small copper drum, and a wooden ball, saying, “We are three brothers, by the same father and mother, who are both received into the mercy of God, leaving behind them these articles.  They are three, and we are three; but a dispute hath fallen out among us respecting their allotment, as each of us says, ‘I will have the cap.’  Our contention made us proceed to blows, but now we are desirous that thou shouldst arbitrate between us, and allot an article to each of us as thou shall judge best, when we will rest satisfied with thy decision, but should either contradict it he shall be adjuged an offender.”

When Mazin heard the above he was surprised, and said to himself, “These articles are so paltry and of such trifling value as not to be worth an arbitration; for surely this shabby cap, the drum, and the wooden ball, cannot be worth altogether more than half a deenar; but I will inquire farther about them.”  He then said, “My brethren, wherein lies the value of these three things about which you were contending, for to me they appear of very little worth.”  They replied, “Dear uncle, each of them has a property worth treasuries of wealth, and to each of them belongs a tale so wonderful, that wert thou to write it on a tablet of adamant it would remain an example for those who will be admonished.”

Mazin then requested that they would relate to him the stories of the three articles, when they said, “The eldest brother shall first deliver the account of one, its properties, what can be gained from them, and we will not conceal any thing from thee.”

“This cap,” said the elder brother, “is called the cap of invisibility, by which, whoever possesseth it may become sovereign of the world.  When he puts it on, he may enter where he pleases, for none can perceive him, either genii or men, so that he may convey away whatever he chooses, unseen, in security.  He may enter the cabinets of kings and statesmen, and hear all they converse upon respecting political intrigues.  Does he covet wealth, he may visit the royal treasuries, and plunder them at his pleasure; or does he wish for revenge, he can kill his enemy without being detected.  In short, he may act as he pleases without fear of discovery.”

Mazin now said to himself, “This cap can become nobody but me, to whom it will be most advantageous in the object of my expedition.  Perhaps it may conduct me to my wife and children, and I may obtain from its possession all I wish.  It is certainly one of the wonders of the world and rarities of the age, not to be found among the riches of kings of the present day.”  When he had ruminated thus, he said, “I am acquainted with the properties of the cap, what are those of the drum?”

The second brother began, saying, “Whoever has this drum in his possession, should he be involved in a difficult situation, let him take it out of its case, and with the sticks gently beat upon the characters engraven on the copper; when, if his mind be collected and his courage firm, there will appear to him wonderful matters.  The virtue of it consists in the words inscribed upon it, which were written by our lord Solomon Bin David in talismanic characters, each of which has control over certain spirits and princes of the genii, and a power that cannot be described in speech.  Hence, whoever is master of this drum may become superior to all the monarchs of the present day, for, on his beating it in the manner already described, when he is pressed for help, all the princes of the genii, with their sons, will appear also their troops and followers, ready to obey his commands.  Whatever he may order them to execute they will perform by virtue of the talisman of our lord Solomon Bin David.”

When Mazin of Bussorah had heard the above, he said to himself, “This drum is fitting only for me, as I have much more need of it than the brothers.  It will protect me from all evil in the islands of Waak al Waak, should I reach them, and meet with my wife and children.  It is true, if I take only the cap I may be able to enter all places, but this drum will keep injury from me, and with it I shall be secure from all enemies.”  After this, he said, “I have been informed of the virtues of the cap, and the properties of the drum, there now only remains the account of the wooden ball, that I may give judgment between you, therefore let the third brother speak.”  He answered, “To hear is to obey.”

The third brother said, “My dear uncle, whoever possesses this ball will find in it wonderful properties, for it brings distant parts near, and makes near distant, it shortens long journeys, and lengthens short ones If any person wish to perform one of two hundred years in two days, let him take it from its case, then lay it upon the ground and mention what place he desires to go, it will instantly be in motion, and rush over the earth like the blast of the stormy gale.  He must then follow it till he arrives at the place desired, which he will have the power to do with ease.”

When the youth had concluded his description of the virtue of the wooden ball, Mazin resolved within himself to take this also from the brothers, and said, “If your wish be that I should arbitrate between you, I must first prove the virtues of these three articles, and afterwards let each take that which may fall to him by decision.”  The three brothers exclaimed, “We have heard, and we consent; act as thou thinkest best, and may God protect thee in thy undertakings!” Mazin then put on the cap, placed the drum under his vestband, took up the ball and placed it on the ground, when it speeded before him swiftly as the gale.  He followed it till it came to the gate of a building which it entered, and Mazin also went in with it.  The brothers ran till they were fatigued, and cried out, “Thou hast sufficiently tried them;” but in vain, for by this time there was between him and them the distance of ten years’ journey.  Mazin now rested, took the drum in his hands, rubbed his fingers over the talismanic characters, hesitated whether he should strike them with the sticks, then labored lightly upon them, when, lo! a voice exclaimed, “Mazin, thou hast gained thy desires.

“Thou wilt not, however,” continued the voice, “arrive at thy object till after much trouble, but take care of the ball in this spot, for thou art at present in the land of the evil genii.”  Upon this, Mazin took up the ball and concealed it in his clothes; but he was overcome with astonishment at hearing words without seeing the speaker, and exclaimed, “Who art thou, my lord?” “I am,” replied the voice, “one of the slaves of the characters which thou seest engraved upon the drum, and unremittingly in attendance; but the other servants will not appear except the drum be beaten loudly, when three hundred and sixty chiefs will attend thy commands, each of whom has under his authority ten thousand genii, and every individual of them numerous followers.”

Mazin now inquired the distance of the islands of Waak al Waak; to which the voice replied, “Three years’ journey:”  upon which he struck the ball before him, and followed it.  He next arrived in a region infested by serpents, dragons, and ravenous beasts, in the mountains of which were mines of copper.  He now again tabored gently upon the drum, when the voice exclaimed, “I am ready to obey thy commands.”

“Inform me,” said Mazin, “what is the name of this country?” “It is called,” answered the voice, “the Land of Dragons and Ravenous Animals.  Be careful then of thyself, and make no delay, nor regard fatigue, for these mountains are not to be passed without a chance of trouble from the inhabitants, who are genii, and in their caves are furious wild beasts.”  Upon this he struck the ball afresh, and followed it unceasingly, till at length he reached the sea shore, and perceived the islands of Waak al Waak at a distance, whose mountains appeared of a fiery red, like the sky gilded by the beams of the setting sun.  When he beheld them he was struck with awe and dread; but recovering, he said to himself, “Why should I be afraid? since God has conducted me hither, he will protect me; or, if I die, I shall be relieved from my troubles, and be received into the mercy of God.”  He then gathered some fruits, which he ate, drank some water, and having performed his devotions, laid himself down to sleep, nor did he awake till the morning.

In the morning Mazin had recourse to his drum, which he rubbed gently, when the voice inquired his commands.  “How am I,” said he, “to pass this sea, and enter the islands?” “That is not to be done,” replied the voice, “without the assistance of a sage who resides in a cell on yonder mountains, distant from hence a day’s journey, but the ball will conduct thee there in half an hour.  When you reach his abode, knock softly at the door, when he will appear, and inquire whence you come, and what you want.  On entering he will receive thee kindly, and desire thee to relate thy adventures from beginning to end.  Conceal nothing from him, for he alone can assist thee in passing the sea.”

Mazin then struck the ball, and followed it till he arrived at the abode of the hermit, the gate of which he found locked He knocked, when a voice from within said, “Who is at the gate?” “A guest,” replied Mazin upon which the sage arose and opened the door, admitted him, and entertained him kindly for a whole night and day, after which Mazin ventured to inquire how he might pass the sea The sage replied, “What occasions thy searching after such an object?” Mazin answered, “My lord, I intend to enter the islands, and with that view have I travelled far distant from my own country.”  When the sage heard this, he stood up before him, took a book, opened it, and read in it to himself for some time, every now and then casting a look of astonishment upon Mazin.  At length he raised his head and said, “Heavens! what troubles, disasters, and afflictions in exile have been decreed to this youth in the search of his object!” Upon this Mazin exclaimed, “Wherefore, my lord, did you look at the book and then at me so earnestly?” The sage replied, “My son, I would instruct thee how to reach the islands, since such is thy desire, but thou canst not succeed in thy desires till after much labour and inconvenience.  However, at present relate to me thy adventures from first to last” Mazin rejoined, “My story, my lord, is such a surprising one, that were it engraven on tablets of adamant, it would be an example for such as would take warning.”

When he had related his story from beginning to end, the sage exclaimed, “God willing thou wilt attain thy wishes:”  upon which Mazin inquired concerning the sea surrounding the islands, and how he could overcome such an impediment to his progress; when the sage answered, “By God’s permission, in the morning we will repair to the mountains, and I will shew thee the wonders of the seas.”

When God permitted morning to dawn the hermit arose, took Mazin with him, and they ascended the mountains, till they reached a structure resembling a fortress, which they entered, and proceeded into the inmost court, in which was an immense colossal statue of brass, hollowed into pipes, having in the midst of it a reservoir lined with marble, the work of magicians.  When Mazin beheld this he was astonished, and began to tremble with fear at the vastness of the statue, and what miraculous power it might contain.  The hermit now kindled a fire, threw into it some perfumes, and muttered some unintelligible words, when suddenly dark clouds arose, from which burst out eddies of tempestuous wind, lightnings, claps of thunder, groans, and frightful noises, and in the midst of the reservoir appeared boiling waves, for it was near the ocean surrounding the islands.  The hermit did not cease to utter his incantations, until the hurricane and noises had subsided by his authority, for he was more powerful than any of the magicians, and had command over the rebellious genii.  He now said to Mazin, “Go out, and look towards the ocean surrounding the islands.”

Mazin repaired to the summit of the mountain, and looked towards the sea, but could not discover the smallest trace of its existence:  upon which he was astonished at the miraculous power of the hermit.  He returned to him, exclaiming, “I can behold no remains of the ocean, and the islands appear joined to the main land;” when the sage said, “My son, place thy reliance on God and pursue thy object,” after which he vanished from sight.

Mazin now proceeded into the islands, and did not stop till he had reached a verdant spot watered by clear rivulets, and shaded by lofty trees.  It was now sunrise, and among the wonders which he beheld was a tree like the weeping willow, on which hung, by way of fruit, beautiful damsels, who exclaimed, “Praised be God our creator, and former of the islands of Waak al Waak.”  They then dropped from the tree and expired.  At sight of this prodigy his senses were confounded, and he exclaimed, “By heavens, this is miraculously surprising!” When he had recovered himself, he roamed through the groves, and admired the contrivances of the Almighty till sunset, when he sat down to rest.

He had not sat long when there approached towards him a masculinely looking old woman of disagreeable countenance, at sight of whom Mazin was alarmed.  The matron guessing that he was in fear of her, said to him, “What is thy name, what are thy wants? art thou of this country?  Inform me; be not afraid or apprehensive, for I will request of God that I may be the means of forwarding thy wishes.”  On hearing these words the heart of Mazin was encouraged, and he rerelated to her his adventures from first to last.  When she had heard them, she knew that he must be husband to the sister of her mistress, who was queen of the islands of Waak al Waak, and said, “Thy object is a difficult one, but I will assist thee all in my power.”

The old woman now conducted Mazin through by-paths to the capital of the island, and led him unperceived in the darkness of night, when the inhabitants had ceased to pass through the streets, to her own house.  She then set before him refreshments, and having eaten and drunk till he was satisfied, he praised God for his arrival; when the matron informed him concerning his wife, that she had endured great troubles and afflictions since her separation, and repented sincerely of her flight.  Upon hearing this, Mazin wept bitterly, and fainted with anguish.  When revived by the exertions of the old woman, she comforted him by promises of speedy assistance to complete his wishes, and left him to his repose.

Next morning the old woman desiring Mazin to wait patiently for her return, repaired to the palace, where she found the queen and her sisters in consultation concerning the wife of Mazin, and saying, “This wretch hath espoused a man, by whom she has children, but now she is returned, we will put her to death after divers tortures.”  Upon the entrance of the old lady they arose, saluted her with great respect, and seated her, for she had been their nurse.  When she had rested a little, she said, “Were you not conversing about your unfortunate sister? but can ye reverse the decrees of God?” “Dear nurse,” replied they, “no one can avoid the will of heaven, and had she wedded one of our own nature there would have been no disgrace, but she has married a human being of Bussorah, and has children by him, so that our species will despise us, and tauntingly say, ’Your sister is a harlot.’  Her death is therefore not to be avoided.”  The nurse rejoined, “If you put her to death your scandal will be greater than hers, for she was wedded lawfully, and her offspring is legitimate; but I wish to see her.”  The eldest sister answered, “She is now confined in a subterraneous dungeon;” upon which the nurse requested permission to visit her, which was granted, and one of the sisters attended to conduct her to the prison.

The nurse, on her arrival at the prison, found the wife of Mazin in great distress from the cruelty of her sisters.  Her children were playing about her, but very pallid, from the closeness of their confinement.  On the entrance of the nurse she stood up, made her obeisance, and began to weep, saying, “My dear nurse, I have been long in this dungeon, and know not what in the end may be my fate.”  The old woman kissed her cheeks, and said, “My dear daughter, God will bring thee relief, perchance on this very day.”

When the wife of Mazin heard this, she said, “Good heavens! your words, my dear nurse, recall a gleam of comfort that last night struck across my mind from a voice, which said, ’Be comforted, O wife of Mazin, for thy deliverance is near.’” Upon this the old woman replied, “Thou shalt indeed be comforted, for thy husband is at my abode, and will speedily release thee.”  The unfortunate prisoner, overcome with joy, fainted away, but was soon restored by the nurse’s sprinkling water upon her face, when she opened her eyes and said, “I conjure thee by heaven, my dear nurse, inform me if thou speakest truth, or dissemblest.”  “I not only speak truth,” answered the nurse, “but by God’s help thou shalt meet thy husband this day.”  After this she left her.

The nurse, upon her return home, inquired of Mazin if he had skill to take his wife away, provided he was admitted into the dungeon at night.  He replied, “Yes.”  When night was set in, she conducted him to the spot where she was confined, left him near the gate, and went her way.  He then put on his cap of invisibility, and remained unperceived all night by any one.  Early in the morning the queen, his wife’s eldest sister, advanced, opened the gate of the prison, and entered, when he followed unseen behind her, and seated himself in a corner of the apartment.  The queen went up to her sister, and beat her cruelly with a whip, while her children wept around her, till the blood appeared upon her body, when she left her hanging by her hair from a pillar, went out, and locked the door of the dungeon.  Mazin now arose, unloosed his wife’s hair, and pulling off the cap, appeared before her, when she exclaimed, “From whence didst thou come?” They then embraced each other, and he said.  “Ah, why didst thou act thus, leave me in such affliction, and plunge thyself into such distress, which, indeed, thy conduct hath almost deserved?” “It is true,” replied she; “but what is past is past, and reproach will not avail, unless thus canst effect our escape:”  upon which he exclaimed, “Does thy inclination really lead thee to accompany me to my own country?” She answered,

“Yes; do with me what thou choosest.”

They remained in endearment with their children until evening, when the keeper of the dungeon approaching, Mazin put on his cap of invisibility.  The keeper having set down the provisions for the night, retired into a recess of the dungeon and fell asleep; when Mazin and his family sat down and refreshed themselves.  Perceiving the keeper asleep, Mazin tried the door and found it unlocked; upon which, he, with his wife and children, left the prison, and travelled as quickly as possible all night.  When the queen, in the morning, was informed of her sister’s escape she was enraged, and made incantations, on which seven thousand genii attended, with whom she marched out in pursuit, resolved to cut the fugitives in pieces.

Mazin, looking behind him, perceived a cloud of dust, and soon appeared the forces of his wife’s sister, who cried out on seeing him, with dreadful howls, “Where will ye go, ye wretches, ye accursed? where can ye hide yourselves?” Upon this Mazin took out his drum, and beat it violently, when, lo! there appeared before him legions of genii, in number more than could be reckoned, and they fought with the armies of the queen, who was taken prisoner, with her principal attendants.

When the wife of Mazin beheld her sister in this distress her compassion was moved towards her, and she said to her husband, “Hurt not my sister, nor use her ill, for she is my elder:”  upon which he treated her respectfully, and commanded tents to be pitched for her and her court.

Peace being established, the sisters took an affectionate leave, and Mazin, with his family, departed for the residence of Abd al Sulleeb, which they speedily reached with the assistance of the genii, and the directing ball.  The old man received him kindly, and inquired his adventures, when he related them to him; at which he was surprised, especially at the account of the cap, the drum, and the ball; of which last Mazin begged his acceptance, being now near home, and having no farther occasion for its use.  Abd al Sulleeb was much pleased, and entertained him magnificently for three days, when Mazin wishing to depart, the old man presented him with rich gifts, and dismissed him.

Mazin was continuing his route, when suddenly a band of a hundred banditti appeared, resolved to plunder and put him and his companions to death, with which design they kept advancing.  Mazin called out to them, “Brother Arabs, let the covenant of God be between you and me, keep at a distance from me.”  When they heard this they increased their insolence, surrounded him, and supposed they should easily seize all that he had; but especially when they beheld his wife, and the beauty she was endowed with, they said one to another, “Let us put him to death, and not suffer him to live.”  Each man resolved within himself, saying, “I will seize this damsel, and not take the plunder.”

When Mazin saw that they were bent upon attacking him, to seize his wife and plunder his effects, he took out his drum and beat upon it in a slight manner, when, behold! ten genii appeared before him, requiring his commands.  He replied, “I wish the dispersion of yonder horsemen;” upon which one of the ten advanced among the hundred banditti, and uttered such a tremendous yell as made the mountains reverberate the sound.  Immediately as he sent forth the yell, the banditti, in alarm, dispersed themselves among the rocks, when such as fell from their horses’ backs fled on foot; so that they lost their reputation, and were ridiculed among the chiefs of the Abbasside tribes.  Mazin now pursued his journey, and did not halt till he had reached the abode of Abd al Kuddoos, who advanced to meet him and saluted him, but was astonished when he beheld his company, and the wealth he had obtained.  Mazin related what had befallen him, of dangers, and hunger, and thirst; his safe arrival in the islands of Waak al Waak; the deliverance of his wife from prison, and the defeat of the army sent to oppose his return.  He mentioned also the reconciliation between the sisters of his wife, and whatever had happened to him from first to last.

Abd al Kuddoos was greatly astonished at these adventures, and said to Mazin of Bussorah, “Truly, my son, these events are most surprising, and can have never occurred to any but thyself.”  Mazin remained three days to repose himself, and was treated with hospitality and respect until the fourth, when he resolved to continue his journey, and took leave.  He proceeded towards his own country, and did not halt on the way till he arrived with the seven sisters, the owners of the palace, who had so much befriended him.

When Mazin of Bussorah arrived near the palace of the seven sisters, they came out to meet him, saluted him and his wife, and conducted them within; but they were astonished at his return, and at first could scarcely believe his success, wondering that he had not perished on the road, or been torn in pieces by the wild beasts of the desert; for they had regarded it as impossible that he should ever reach the islands of Waak al Waak.

When they were seated, they requested him to relate to them all that had befallen him, which he did from first to last, and they were more than ever astonished at his uncommon adventures.  After this they introduced a collation, and spread the cloth, when they ate till they were satisfied, and then wrote a letter and dispatched it to the mother of Mazin, congratulating her on the health of her son, and his safe return with his wife and children.

Mazin remained with the ladies a month, enjoying himself in feasting and amusements, after which he begged permission to depart to his own country, for his heart was anxious for his mother.  They dismissed him, and he travelled unceasingly till he arrived at Bussorah.  He entered the city at sunset, and proceeded to his own house, when his mother came out, saluted him, and embraced him.  She had erected her tomb in the court of her house, and had wept night and day till she became blind, but when the letter arrived from the sisters, from the rapture of joy her sight returned unto her again.  She beheld the children of her son, embraced them, and that night was to her as an eed or festival.

When God had caused the morning to dawn, the chief personages of Bussorah visited Mazin to congratulate him on his return, and the principal ladies came to his mother, and rejoiced with her on the safety of her son.  At length intelligence of it reached the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, who sent for Mazin to his presence.  Having entered the audience chamber, he made the usual obeisance, when the caliph returned his salute, and commanded him to sit.  When he was seated, the caliph demanded that he should relate the whole of what had befallen him, to which he answered, “To hear is to obey.”

Mazin then recited his adventures from the time the fire-worshipper who had stolen him from his mother by his stratagems, the mode of his coming to the palace of the seven ladies, the manner in which he obtained his wife, her flight from the palace of the empress Zobeide, his journey to the islands of Waak al Waak, also the dangers and difficulties he had encountered from first to last.  The caliph was astonished, and said, “The substance of these adventures must not be lost or concealed, but shall be recorded in writing.”  He then commanded an amanuensis to attend, and seated Mazin of Bussorah by him, until he had taken down his adventures from beginning to end.

STORY OF THE SULTAN, THE DERVISH, AND THE BARBER’S SON.

In the capital of a sultan named Rammaud lived a barber, who had a son growing up to manhood, possessing great accomplishments of mind and person, and whose wit and humour drew numerous customers to his shop.  One day a venerable dervish entering it, sat down, and calling for a looking glass, adjusted his beard and whiskers, at the same time asking many questions of the young man; after which he laid down a sherif, rose up, and departed.  The next day he came again, and for several days following, always finishing his visit by leaving a piece of gold upon the looking-glass, to the great satisfaction of the barber, who from his other customers never usually received more than sonic coppers of little value; but though he liked the gold, his suspicions were raised against the generous donor, supposing him to be a necromancer, who had some evil design against his son, whom, therefore, he cautioned to be upon his guard.  The visits of the dervish were continued as usual for some time; when one day he found the barber’s son alone in the shop, and was informed that his father had gone to divert himself with viewing some experiments which the sultan was making of the mixture of various metals, being an adept in chemistry, and eager in search of the philosopher’s stone.  The dervish now invited the young man to accompany him to the spot where the experiments were making, and on their arrival they saw a vast furnace, into which the sultan and his attendants cast pieces of metal of various sorts.  The dervish having taken a lump of ore from his wallet threw it into the furnace; then addressing the young barber, said, “I must for the present bid you farewell, as I have a journey to take; but if the sultan should inquire after me, let him know I am to be found in a certain city, and will attend his summons.”  Having said this, the dervish presented the barber’s son with a purse of gold, took his leave, and the youth returned home.  Great was the surprise of the sultan, when the metals in the furnace were all melted, to find them converted into a mass of solid gold, which proved, on assay, to be of the purest quality.  Every one was questioned as to what he had cast into the furnace, when there appeared no reason to suppose the transmutation could have been effected by such an accidental mixture of metals.  At length it was remarked, that a dervish, accompanying the barber’s son, had cast in a lump of ore, and immediately disappeared.  Upon this the sultan summoned the youth to his presence, and inquiring after his companion, was informed of the place of his residence, and of what, on his departure, he had said to him.  The sultan was overjoyed at the welcome intelligence, and dispatched the young man, with an honourable attendance, to conduct the venerable dervish to his presence, where being arrived, he was received with the most distinguishing attention, and the barber’s son was promoted to high office.  After some days, the sultan requested the dervish to instruct him in the transmutation of metals, which he readily did, as well as in many other occult mysteries; which so gratified his royal patron, that he trusted the administration of government to his care.  This disgusted the ministers and courtiers, who could not bear to be controlled by a stranger, and therefore resolved to effect his ruin.  By degrees they persuaded their credulous master that the dervish was a magician, who would in time possess himself of his throne, and the sultan, alarmed, resolved to put him to death.  With this intention, calling him to the presence, he accused him of sorcery, and commanded an executioner to strike off his head.  “Forbear awhile,” exclaimed the dervish, “and let me live till I have shown you the most wonderful specimen of my art.”  To this the sultan consented, when the dervish, with chalk, drew a circle of considerable extent round the sultan and his attendants, then stepping into the middle of it, he drew a small circle round himself, and said, “Now seize me if you can;” and immediately disappeared from sight.  At the same instant, the sultan and his courtiers found themselves assaulted by invisible agents, who, tearing off their robes, whipped them with scourges till the blood flowed in streams from their lacerated backs.  At length the punishment ceased, but the mortification of the sultan did not end here, for all the gold which the dervish had transmuted returned to its original metals.  Thus, by his unjust credulity, was a weak prince punished for his ungrateful folly.  The barber and his son also were not to be found, so that the sultan could gain no intelligence of the dervish, and he and his courtiers became the laughingstock of the populace for years after their merited chastisement.

Adventures of Aleefa, daughter of
Mherejaun, sultan of hind, and Eusuff, son
of Sohul, sultan of Sind.

Mherejaun, sultan of Hind, was many years without any progeny, and immersed in melancholy at the thought of his kingdom’s passing to another family.  One evening, while indulging his gloomy thoughts, he dropped into a doze, from which he was roused by a voice exclaiming, “Sultan, thy wife this night shall conceive.  If she bears a son, he will increase the glory of thy house; but if a daughter, she will occasion thee disgrace and misfortune.”  In due time the favourite sultana was delivered of a daughter, to the great mortification of the parents, who would have destroyed her had not her infant smiles diverted their anger.  She was brought up in the strictest privacy, and at the end of twelve years the sultan had her conveyed to a strong citadel erected in the middle of a deep lake, hoping in such a confinement to prevent her from fulfilling the prediction which had been made concerning her.  Nothing could excel the magnificence of her abode, where she was left only with female attendants of the highest accomplishments, but no male was allowed to approach even the borders of the lake, except when supplies were conveyed for the use of its fair inhabitants, who were then restricted to their apartments.  The gate of the citadel was entrusted to the care of an old lady, the princess’s nurse.  For three years the fair Aleefa lived happy in her splendid prison, but the decree of fate was not to be overcome, and an event predestined by heaven overturned the cautious project of sultan Mherejaun.

Eusuff, a dissipated young prince, son to the sultan of Sind, having offended his father, fled from his court, and with a few attendants reached the borders of the lake, in his way to seek an asylum in the territories of Mherejaun.  Curious to know who inhabited the citadel in the midst of it, he swam over the lake, and landed at the gate, which he found shut, but no one answered his loudest call for admission.  Upon this he wrote a note, requesting compassion to a helpless stranger, and having fixed it to an arrow, shot it over the battlements.  It luckily for him fell at the feet of the princess, then walking in one of the courts of her palace.  She prevailed upon her nurse to open the gate, and at sight of Eusuff fell in love with him, as he did with her.  He was admitted, and the tenderest interviews took place between them.  Joy and pleasure prevailed in the citadel, while the prince’s attendants remained, expecting his return, on the banks of the lake.

After some time, sultan Sohul wishing to be reconciled to his son, and having learnt the route he had taken, dispatched his nephew named Yiah to assure him of forgiveness, and invite him to return to Sind.  Yiah arriving at the lake, was informed by Eusuff’s attendants that the prince had entered the citadel, since which they had not seen or heard anything of him.  Yiah, upon this, penned a note expressive of the sultan’s forgiveness, and his wish to see the prince, which he fixed to an arrow and shot it into the palace, in the garden of which it fell, as Eusuff and Aleefa were walking for their amusement.  The prince, on reading the note, overcome with joy at the intelligence of his father’s forgiveness of his errors, resolved to return home and pay his duty to his parents.  He communicated his design to the princess, who was plunged into the deepest sorrow at the thought of his departure, but he comforted her by assurances of his speedy return, declaring that nothing but filial duty could have torn him from her, even for a moment.  She now implored him to to take her with him, but Eusuff prudently represented that such a step could only disgrace her fame and enrage her father, who, on discovery of her flight, would invade the kingdom of Sind with his powerful armies, and a scene of unnecessary bloodshed would ensue.  On the contrary, it they waited patiently, sultan Mherejaun might be prevailed upon to consent to their union; but, in the mean time, he would visit her often, while their meetings might, through the fidelity of their mutual attendants, be kept secret.  Aleefa, though unwilling, was obliged to acknowledge the justice of his reasoning, and consented to his departure; but on his taking leave, with tears and embraces entreated him not to be long absent, which he promised, and with truth, for his love was sincere, and it was with difficulty he submitted to the call of duty to a forgiving parent.

Eusuff having swam the lake with his bow and quiver upon his head, as before, rejoined his companions, who rejoiced to see him.  He was received by his cousin Yiah with transports of affection, and informed of what had happened since his departure from court; after which the prince related his love adventure with the fair Aleefa, at the same time requesting his secrecy, and that he would charge the same on his attendants, as to his having been in the citadel, which he should earnestly beg also of his companions to observe.  After a night’s repose the two princes marched towards Sind, and when within a day’s distance from the capital, dispatched a courier to give notice of their approach.  Sultan Sohul, overcome with joy at the recovery of his son, having commanded the city to be ornamented and splendid entertainments to be made for his triumphal entry, with his whole court in their most magnificent array advanced to meet him.  The prince, on seeing his father’s train, dismounted, fell on his face, then running up, eagerly embraced the stirrup of the old sultan, who threw himself upon his neck in a transport of joy, and wept over him with tears of affectionate rapture.  A horse sumptuously caparisoned was now brought for the prince’s mounting, and the father and son rode side by side into the city, amid the acclamations of all ranks of people; while, as they proceeded, basins full of silver and gold, coined for the occasion, were showered amongst the assembled crowds in the streets.  It is impossible to describe the tender interview between the prince and the queen his mother, whose heart had been nearly broken on the flight of her son, or the glad transports of Eusuff’s own ladies, who were in number three wives and forty concubines.  Suffice it to say, that all was joy and pleasure in the palace, except in the breast of Eusuff; who mingled with the satisfaction of return to his family an ardent desire to meet again the beautiful Aleefa, so that the caresses of his women gave him no pleasure; and when he retired to his apartment, he did not, as was usual, call any of them to his presence, but passed the night alone, thinking of his beloved.  Morning invited him to new scenes of festivity, prepared by his happy parents, who little suspected how soon they were again to lose their son.

Eusuff having sacrificed a few days (to him long as the eve of dissolution) to his sense of duty, could no longer restrain his impatience, but with a faithful slave named Hullaul, mounted on a favourite courser behind him, left the palace undiscovered in the darkness of night, and speeded with the swiftness of the gale towards the citadel of Aleefa.  Being arrived on the banks of the lake, he secured his saddle and bridle among some bushes, and was carried with his attendant safely through the water by his noble steed.  Unbounded was the joy of the princess at again meeting her faithful lover, nor was his rapture less than hers.  Having committed Hullaul to the care of the ladies of Aleefa, they retired to their apartment.  Thirty days rolled on almost unperceived by Eusuff, who forgot his parents, his family, and country, in the delights of love.

On the thirtieth evening, as Eusuff and Aleefa were viewing the beautiful prospect from the terrace of the palace, they perceived a boat sailing towards it, which, as it drew nearer, the princess knew to belong to her father the sultan Mherejaun; upon which she requested her lover to keep himself concealed from view, while she received the persons in the vessel.  Eusuff accordingly withdrew into a chamber, the lattice of which looked upon the lake; but how can we express his indignant surprise, and furious jealousy, when he beheld landing from the boat two handsome young men, into the arms of one of whom Aleefa threw herself with eager transport, and after mutual embraces they withdrew together into the palace.  Without considering that his supposed rival might be a near relation to the princess, as he in fact was, being her first cousin, who had been brought up with her till her confinement to the lake; Eusuff suffered himself to be overcome by unworthy suspicion, and resolved to quit for ever a faithless mistress.  Having written an angry letter upraiding her with falsehood, and bidding her farewell, he with his attendant Hullaul mounted his courser; then delivering his note to one of the females, to be given to the princess, he swam over the lake and speeded rapidly to his own country, where he was once more joyfully received by his parents and family; and in order to forget the charms of Aleefa, he indulged himself in mirth and pleasure with his lately forsaken ladies, who, delighted with the long-wished-for return of his affection, strove with each ether who should please him best.

The unsuspecting Aleefa was engaged with her cousin Sohaul and Ali Bin Ibrahim, a faithful eunuch who was his attendant, asking a thousand questions and listening to the news of her father’s court, when Eusuff’s letter was put into her hands.  Rising up, she withdrew into a closet, opened it, and was much vexed at its ungrateful contents; but knowing herself innocent, and trusting that her lover would return when convinced of his mistake, she composed her mind as firmly as she, could till the departure of her cousin, who after some days took leave and returned to the capital of Mherejaun, leaving behind him the eunuch, to the great satisfaction of the princess, who hoped to make him the mediator between her and her beloved.  Nor was she mistaken.  When unfolding to him the whole of her adventures with Eusuff, he agreed to be the bearer of a letter, and explain to him the cause of his needless suspicion.  Having swam the lake with the fair Aleefa’s packet wrapped in his clothes upon his head, the faithful Ah in twenty days reached the city of Sind, and demanding an audience in private, which was readily granted, delivered his commission to the prince.  Eusuff, whose anger was now calmed, and who had already begun to feel uneasy at absence from the still reigning favourite of his heart, on perusing her letter was overcome with joy.  He listened eagerly to the account of his fancied rival by the eloquent Ali Bin Ibrohim, to whom he expressed his conviction of her constancy, his own sorrow for his unreasonable desertion of her, and his intention of departing to visit her the next night, till when he desired the eunuch to repose himself after his fatigue.  Ali Bin Ibrahim was then lodged, by the prince’s orders, in one of the most splendid apartments of the palace, and respectfully waited upon by the domestics of his court.  The night following, Eusuff having ordered his favourite Hullaul to make preparations, departed from Sind as before, with the eunuch mounted on a second courser.  They in a few days reached the borders of the lake, swam over, and to the great joy of the once more happy Aleefa arrived at the citadel.  The recollection of the pains of absence added a zest to the transports of reunion, and the lovers were, if possible, more delighted with each other than before their separation.  The faithful Ali Bin Ibrahim was now dismissed with invaluable presents of precious stones, and returned to the court of Mherejaun, the time for his stay at the citadel of the lake being expired.  On his arrival, the sultan, anxious for intelligence of his daughter’s health, took him into his closet, and while he was questioning him, by some accident the eunuch’s turban unfortunately falling off, the precious stones, which, with a summary of the adventures of Eusuff and Aleefa, and his own embassy to Sind, were wrapped in the folds, tumbled upon the floor.  The sultan knew the jewels, and examining the turban, to make farther discoveries, found the paper, which he eagerly read; and furious was his wrath, when from the contents it appeared that all his caution to guard against the decrees of heaven had been vain, that the princess had been seduced, and his house dishonoured.  He sternly inquired of the trembling Ali if Eusuff was yet with his daughter, and was answered in the affirmative, when he immediately gave orders for vessels to be prepared for his departure, hoping to take him prisoner, and at the same time commanded his army to march along the banks of the lake and encamp opposite the citadel.  The unfortunate eunuch was thrown into a dungeon and loaded with heavy chains, after he had been bastinadoed almost to death; but still faithful to the lovers, he prevailed upon his gaoler by a large bribe during the night to permit him to dispatch a note by a trusty messenger to the princess, apprising her of the misfortune which had happened, in hopes that she would have time to escape with Eusuff towards his own country before her father’s arrival.  Fortunately for the lovers, this information reached them the next morning, when they consulted what measures to pursue, and it was agreed, that instead of both quitting the citadel, only Eusuff and Hullaul should return to Sind, as the princess was unequal to such a rapid journey, but that in order to ensure her safety, the slaves should, on the sultan’s arrival, assure him that she had gone off with her lover, when he would either return home or pursue the prince with his army; who, however, mounted as he was on so swift a courser, could not be overtaken.  It was also settled that Eusuff, on his arrival in his own country, should send an embassy to Mherejaun, declaring his marriage with Aleefa, and requesting pardon, and leave to pay his duty as his son-in-law.  This stratagem had in part its effect, but no precaution could ward off the fulfilment of the prediction at the princess’s birth, which was that she should occasion the disgrace and death of her father.

Mherejaun armed at the citadel a few hours after Eusuff’s escape, and was informed by her attendants that she had also accompanied him in his flight; upon which the enraged sultan, hurried on by fate, without stopping to search the palace in which his daughter was concealed, hastened to join his troops on the banks of the lake, and with a vast army pursued the Sindian prince, who, however, reached his capital in safety.  On his arrival, having informed his father of his adventures, the old sultan, eager to gratify his son, approved of his additional marriage with the fair Aleefa, and dispatched an embassy to Mherejaun, who by this time was in the territory of Sind, laying it waste with fire and sword, no troops scarcely being opposed to his sudden invasion.  He received the ambassador with mortifying haughtiness, bidding him return to his master, and inform him that he never would forgive the seduction of his daughter, in revenge for which he had taken a solemn oath to overturn the kingdom of Sind, raze the capital, and feast his eyes with the blood of the old sultan and his son.  On receipt of this ungracious reply to his proposals, the sultan and Eusuff had no alternative but to oppose so inveterate a foe.  They collected their troops, by whom they were much beloved, and marched to meet the enemy, whom, after an obstinate battle, they defeated, and Mherejaun was slain in the action.  It is impossible to resist the decrees of heaven.  From God we came, and to God we must return.

Eusuff, after the action, behaved with the greatest humility to the conquered, and had the body of the unfortunate Mherejaun embalmed and laid in a splendid litter, in which it was conducted by a numerous escort, in respectful solemnity, to the capital of Hind, and deposited with funeral pomp, becoming the rank of the deceased, in a magnificent mausoleum, which had been erected by himself, as is customary among the sovereigns of Asia.  The prince, at the same time, dispatched letters of condolence to the mother of Aleefa, lamenting the fate of Mherejaun, whom he had been, much against his will, necessitated to oppose in battle, and expressing his ardent love for her daughter, a marriage with whom was his highest hope, as it was his first wish to console the mother of his beloved in her misfortunes.

The sultana, who had received intelligence of the decisive victory and the death of her husband, and who expected, instead of such conduct, to see the victor besieging her capital, felt some alleviation of her sorrow in the prospect of saving her people from destruction, by consenting to an union between Eusuff and Aleefa.  Her answer accordingly was favourable, upon which the prince of Sind repaired to the lake, and conducting his willing bride to the capital of Hind, at the expiration of the stated time of mourning for Mherejaun, their nuptials were celebrated with all possible magnificence, amid the united acclamations of the subjects, who readily acknowledged his authority, and had no cause to repent of their submission to his yoke.  His next care was to inform the caliph Mamoon, who was then commander of the faithful at Bagdad, of the events which had happened, accompanying his petition with a great sum of money, and offerings of all the rarities the countries of Hind and Sind afforded; among which were ten beautiful slaves, highly accomplished in singing, dancing, and a talent for poetry.  They recited extempore verses before the caliph, but the subject of each was so expressive of their wish to return to their beloved sovereign, and delivered in so affecting a manner, that Mamoon, though delighted with their wit and beauty, sacrificed his own pleasure to their feelings, and sent them back to Eusuff by the officer who carried the edict, confirming him in his dominions, where the prince of Sind and the fair Aleefa continued long, amid a numerous progeny, to live the protectors of their happy subjects.

Adventures of the three princes, sons of
the sultan of china.

A sultaness of China being seized with an alarming illness was given over by the physicians, who declared her case incurable by any other means than the water of life, which they feared it was next to impossible to obtain before nature would be exhausted; the country in which, if anywhere, it was to be found, being so very distant.  Such, however, was the affection of the sultaness’s three sons, that in hopes of saving their mother they resolved to go in search of the precious medicine, and departed immediately in the route pointed out by the physicians.  After travelling without success to their inquiries through divers countries, they agreed to separate, in hopes that one of them at least might be fortunate enough to procure the wished-for miraculous liquid, and return home in time to save their mother.  Having taken an affectionate farewell, each pursued his journey alone.  The eldest prince, after a fatiguing walk (for the brothers had thought it prudent to lay aside their dignity, and as safest to disguise themselves in mean habits) over a wild country, arrived at last within sight of a large city, inhabited by blasphemous Jews, near which, in a superb synagogue, he laid himself down on a carpet to repose, being quite exhausted with toil and hunger.  He had not rested long, when a Jew rabbi entering the building, the prince begged for the love of God a little refreshment; but the wicked infidel, who hated true believers, instead of relieving, cruelly put him to death with his sabre, and wrapping the corpse in a mat, threw it into a corner of the synagogue.  By ill fortune, on the day following the second prince arrived, and was treated in the same manner by the barbarous Jew, and on the next came also the youngest brother to the same place, where he was met by the base assassin, who would have killed him also, had not the extraordinary beauty of the young prince struck his covetous mind with the idea of making him a slave, and selling him for a large sum of money.  Speaking therefore to him in a kind manner he brought him refreshments, and inquired if he was willing to be his servant, and employ himself in cleaning the synagogue and lighting the lamps; to which the prince, being in an exhausted condition, seemingly assented, seeing no other means of present support, but secretly resolved to escape when recovered from his fatigue.  The Jew now took him to his house in the city, and showed him, apparently, the same tenderness as he used towards his own children.  The next day the prince repaired to his allotted task of cleaning the synagogue, where, to his grief and horror, he presently discovered the bodies of his unfortunate brothers.  While he lamented their unhappy fate with showers of tears, the recollection of his own perilous situation, in the power of their murderer, filled his mind with terror; but after the agonies of thought were over, the natural courage of a princely heart rose in his bosom, and he meditated how to revenge the death of his brothers on the savage infidel.  An opportunity happened that same night.  The prince having composed his mind, finished his work, and when the Jew arrived to examine it, dissembled so well, that no appearance of his inward melancholy was displayed.  The Jew applauded his diligence, and taking him home, made him sit down to supper with himself and family, consisting of a wife and two young lads.  It being the middle of summer, and the weather sultry, they retired to sleep on the open terrace of the house, which was very lofty.  In the dead of night, when the Jew and his family were fast locked in the arms of slumber, the prince, who had purposely kept himself awake, seized the sabre of the treacherous infidel, and with a dexterous blow struck off his head; then snatching up the two children, hurled them headlong from the terrace, so that their brains were dashed out on the stone pavement of the court below.  He then uplifted the sabre to destroy the Jew’s wife, but the thought that she might be of use to him withheld his hand.  He awoke her gently, commanded her to make no noise, and follow him down stairs, where, by degrees, he informed her of his adventures, the discovery he had made of the murder of his brothers, and his revenge on her treacherous husband and ill-fated children, whom, however, he would not have destroyed had he not been apprehensive of their cries alarming the neighbourhood.  The Moosulmaun woman, for such she secretly was, did not regard the death of the wicked Jew, who had married her against her will, and often used her with great harshness, and her sorrows for the children were softened by the salvation of her own life.  She also felt sentiments of tenderness towards the prince, whose injuries in the murder of his unfortunate brothers had compelled him to revenge, and felt herself obliged to his mercy in letting her live.  She now informed him that in the Jew’s laboratory were many valuable medicines, and among them the very water of life he was in search of; which intelligence was most gratifying to the prince, who offered to take the woman under his protection, and she willingly consented to accompany him to a country inhabited by true believers.  Having packed up the medicines, with some valuable jewels, and put them, with various refreshments and necessaries, on two camels, they mounted and left the city undiscovered, nor did any accident occur on their journey; but on reaching the capital of China, the prince found that his father was dead, while his mother, contrary to expectation, lingered in painful existence.  The ministers, who had with difficulty, in hopes of the three brothers’ arrival, kept the next relations of the throne from disputing their right to ascend it, were rejoiced at his return; and on being informed of the untimely end of the two elder princes, immediately proclaimed him sultan.  His first care was to administer comfort and relief to his afflicted mother, on whom the water of life had an instantaneous effect; his next, to regulate the affairs of his government, which he did with such ability, justice, and moderation, that he became endeared to his subjects, and an example to other sovereigns.

As the sultan, some time after his accession, was one day amusing himself in the chase, he saw a venerable Arab, accompanied by his daughter, travelling on horseback.  By accident the young female’s veil being blown aside, displayed such beauty to the eyes of the sultan, as instantly fascinated his heart, and made him wish to have her for his sultana.  He immediately made offers to her father of his alliance; but great was his mortification and surprise when the Arab rejected them, saying, “That he had sworn not to give his daughter to any one who was not master of some useful trade, by which a livelihood might be earned.”  “Father,” replied the sultan, “what occasion is there that I should learn a mean occupation, when I have the wealth of a kingdom at my command?” “Because,” rejoined the Arab, “such are the vicissitudes of the world, that you may lose your kingdom and starve, if not able to work in some way for your living.”  The sultan, unlike some princes, who would have seized the lady and punished the Arab for his freedom, felt the force of his remark, applauded his wisdom, and requested that he would not betroth her to another, as he was resolved to make himself worthy of becoming his son-in-law by learning some handicraft, till when he hoped they would accept of an abode near the palace.  To this the old man readily consented; and in a short time the sultan, eager to possess his bride, became such an adept in the handicraft of making ornamental mats for sofas and cushions of cane and reeds, that the Arab agreed to the nuptials, which were celebrated with all possible splendour and rejoicing, while the subjects admired more than ever the justice and moderation of their sovereign; so true is it, that, unless in depraved states, a good prince makes a good people.

Some years rolled on in uninterrupted felicity to the sultan and his beloved partner.  It was the custom of the former frequently to visit in the disguise of a dervish the various quarters of the city, by which means he learnt the opinions of the people, and inspected the conduct of the police.  One day in an excursion of this sort he passed by a cook’s shop, and being hungry, stepped in to take some refreshment.  He was, with seeming respect, conducted to a back room spread with flowered carpeting, over which was a covering of muslin transparently fine.  Pulling off his slippers, he entered the room and sat down upon a neat musnud, but to his surprise and terror it instantly sunk under him, and he found himself at the bottom of a dark vault, where by a glimmering light he could discern several naked bodies of unfortunate persons who had been murdered, and presently appeared, descending from a narrow staircase, a black slave of savage countenance, who, brandishing a huge cimeter, cried out, “Wretch, prepare thyself to die!” The sultan was alarmed, but his presence of mind did not forsake him.  “What good,” said he, “will my death do you or your employers?  I have nothing about me but the humble habit I wear; but if you spare my life, I possess an art that will produce your employers considerable wealth.”  Upon this, the slave going to the master of the house informed him of what the supposed dervish had said, when the treacherous cook came to inquire after the promised riches.  “Give me only some reeds and canes, varnished of different colours,” said the sultan, “and I will make a mat, which if you carry to the palace and present to the vizier, he will purchase it for a thousand pieces of gold.”  The desired articles were furnished, and the sultan setting to work, in a few days finished a mat, in which he ingeniously contrived to plait in flowery characters, known only to himself and his vizier, the account of his situation.  When finished, he gave it to his treacherous host, who admired the beauty of the workmanship, and not doubting of the reward, carried it to the palace, where he demanded admission, saying he had a curiosity to offer for sale.  The vizier, who was then giving audience to petitioners, commanded him to be brought in; but what was his astonishment when the mat was unfolded, to see pourtrayed upon it the imminent danger of the sultan, whom he supposed to be in his haram, and whose absence the sultana had, in order to prevent confusion, commanded to be kept secret, hoping for his speedy return.  The vizier instantly summoning his guards seized the villanous cook, and proceeding to his house, released the sultan from his confinement.  The house was razed to the ground, and the abominable owner, with his guilty family, put to death.  The sultan exultingly felt the use of having learnt a useful art, which had been the means of saving his life.

STORY OF THE GOOD VIZIER UNJUSTLY IMPRISONED.

A certain vizier, though perfectly loyal and of the strictest integrity, having been falsely accused by his enemies, was, without due examination of the charges brought against him, thrown into prison, where, by orders from the sultan, he was confined to a gloomy dungeon, and allowed only bread and water for his daily food.  In this wretched abode he lay for seven years, at the expiration of which, the sultan his master, who was in the habit of walking about the city in disguise to amuse himself, chanced to pass by the house of his injured minister, dressed as a dervish.  To his surprise he saw it open, and a crowd of domestics busy in cleaning the apartments, and preparing for the reception of the owner, who, they said, had commanded them by a messenger from the prison to put things in order, as he should that day be restored to the sultan’s favour, and return home.  The sultan, who, so far from intending to release the unfortunate vizier, had almost erased the remembrance of him from his mind, was astonished at the report of the domestics, but thought his long confinement might possibly have disturbed the brain of his prisoner, who in his madness might have fancied his deliverance to be at hand.  He resolved however to go and visit the prison disguised as he was, and see the vizier.  Having purchased a quantity of bread and cakes, he proceeded to the gaol, and requested, under pretence of fulfilling a vow he had made to feed the prisoners, to be admitted, and allowed to distribute his charity among them.  The gaoler granted his request, and permitted him to visit the different cells.  At length he came to that of the vizier, who was employed earnestly at his devotions, which on the entrance of the supposed dervish he suspended, and inquired his business.  “I come,” said he, “for though unknown to you I have always prayed for your welfare, to congratulate you on your approaching deliverance, which I understand you have announced to your domestics, but fear without foundation, not having heard of any orders for the purpose from the sultan.”  “That may be true, charitable dervish,” said the vizier, “but depend upon it before night I shall be released and restored to office.”  “I wish it may be so,” replied the sultan; “but upon what ground do you build an expectation, the gratification of which appears to me so improbable?” “Be seated, good dervish, and I will tell you,” rejoined the vizier, and began as follows:  “Know then, my friend, experience has convinced me that the height of prosperity is always quickly succeeded by adverse fortune, and the depth of affliction by sudden relief.  When I was in office, beloved by the people for my lenient administration, and distinguished by the sultan, whose honour and advantage were the constant objects of my care, and for whose welfare I have never ceased to pray even in this gloomy dungeon, I was one evening taking the air upon the river in a splendid barge with some favourite companions.  As we were drinking coffee, the cup I held in my hand, which was made of a single emerald of immense value, and which I highly prized, slipped from it and fell into the water; upon which I ordered the barge to be stopped, and sent for a diver, to whom I promised an ample reward should he recover the cup.  He undressed, and desired me to point out the place at which it fell; when I, having in my hand a rich diamond ring, heedlessly, in a fit of absence, threw it into that part of the river.  While I was exclaiming against my own stupidity, the diver made a plunge towards where I had cast the ring, and in less than two minutes reappeared with the coffee-cup in his hand, when to my great surprise within it I found also my ring.  I rewarded him liberally, and was exulting in the recovery of my jewels, when it suddenly struck my mind, that such unusual good fortune must speedily be followed by some disaster.  This reflection made me melancholy, and I returned home with a foreboding sadness, nor without cause, for that very night my enemies accused me falsely of treason to the sultan, who believed the charge, and next morning I was hurried to this gloomy cell, where I have now remained seven years with only bread and water for my support.  God, however, has given me resignation to his decrees, and this day an accident occurred which makes me confident of release before night, and restoration to the sultan’s favour, which, as I have always done, I will endeavour to deserve.  You must know, venerable dervish, that this morning I felt an unconquerable longing to taste a bit of flesh, and earnestly entreated my keeper, giving him at the same time a piece of gold, to indulge my wish.  The man, softened by the present, brought me a stew, on which I prepared to make a delicious meal; but while, according to custom before eating, I was performing my ablutions, guess my mortification, when a huge rat running from his hole leaped into the dish which was placed upon the floor.  I was near fainting with agony at the sight, and could not refrain from tears; but at length recovering from the poignancy of disappointment, the rays of comfort darted upon my mind, and I reflected that as disgrace and imprisonment had instantaneously followed the fortunate recovery of my cup and ring, so this mortification, a greater than which could not have happened, would be immediately succeeded by returning prosperity.  In this conviction I prevailed on the gaoler to order my domestics to make ready my house and expect my return.”

The disguised sultan, who, while the vizier was speaking, felt every word impress him more and more with the conviction of his innocence, had much difficulty to support his assumed character; but not choosing his visit to the prison should be known at present, he restrained his feelings, and when the minister had finished took his leave, saying, he hoped his presage would be fulfilled.  He then returned undiscovered to the palace, and entering his cabinet, resumed his usual habit; after which he issued orders for the release of the vizier, sending him a robe of honour and splendid attendants to escort him to court, at the same time condemning to confiscation and imprisonment his malicious accusers.  On his arrival, the sultan received the vizier with the most gracious distinction; and having presented him with the canopy of state, the seal and the inkstand set with rich jewels, the insignia of office, conducted him to a private chamber, where falling upon his neck he embraced him, and requesting him to forget past oppression, informed him of his disguised visit to the prison; after which he dismissed him to his own palace.

STORY OF THE LADY OF CAIRO AND HER FOUR GALLANTS.

A virtuous lady of Cairo, who seldom left her house but upon urgent business, one day returning from the bath, passed by the tribunal of the cauzee just as it was breaking up, when the magistrate perceived her, and struck with her dignity and elegance of gait, from which he judged of her beauty, called her to him, and in a soft whisper expressed his desire of a private interview.  The lady being resolved to punish him for his unworthy conduct, seemingly consented, and desired him to repair to her house that evening, which he gladly promised.  She then pursued her route homewards, but was on the way accosted by three other men, who made her similar proposals, all which she accepted, and fixed that evening for receiving their visits.  The first of these gallants was the customs tax-collector of Cairo, the second the chief of the butchers, and the third a rich merchant.

When the lady returned to her house she informed her husband of what had happened, and begged him to permit her to execute a stratagem that she had formed to punish their insolence, which would not only afford himself and her much laughable amusement, but solid advantage, as doubtless the lovers would each bring with him a handsome present.  The husband, who knew he could trust the virtue of his wife, readily consented, and the lady having prepared a handsome entertainment, adorned herself in her richest apparel, and seated herself to receive her guests.  Evening had just shut in, when the venerable cauzee having finished his sunset devotions, impatiently repaired first to his mistress and knocked at the door, which the lady opened and led him upstairs, where he presented her with a rosary of valuable pearl; after which she made him undress, and in place of his robes put on a loose vest of yellow muslin, and a parti-coloured cap, her husband all the while looking at them through the door of a closet, and ready to burst his sides with laughter as he beheld the tender grimaces of the enamoured magistrate.  The happiness of the venerable gallant was however soon changed to frightful alarm, for he had scarcely sat down and begun to partake of some refreshment, when a loud rap was heard at the door; upon which the lady starting up in well-affected terror, cried out, “Mahummud protect us! for this is my husband’s knock, and if he finds you here, he will put us both to death.”  The cauzee’s heart sank within him, and he became more dead than alive; but the lady somewhat revived him by thrusting him into her bed-chamber, desiring him to remain still, as possibly a way might be found for his escape.  He gladly retired, secretly vowing that if spared from his present threatening distress, Satan should no more tempt him to make love or break the sacred law.

The lady having disposed of the cauzee, hastened to the door, where she found the expecting tax-collector, who brought with him, as a present, a set of jewels.  She shewed him upstairs, took off his rich clothes, and made him put on a crimson vest, and a green cap with black spots.  He had scarcely sat down when the door again resounded, and she played over the same game as she had done with the cauzee, who on his also entering the bed-chamber was somewhat pleased at seeing a brother magistrate in the same ridiculous plight with himself.  The venerable lovers condoled by signs with each other, but dared not speak for fear of discovery.  The chief of the butchers, on his arrival, was next ushered up stairs, and his present received, then made to undress and put on a blue vest with a scarlet cap, ornamented with sea shells and bits of tinsel; but he had scarce time to finish, when a fourth loud rap was heard at the door, the scene of alarm was renewed, and the frightened gallant hurried into the room to keep company with his rivals.  Now appeared the respectable merchant, who presented the cunning lady with several rich veils, pieces of silk, and embroidered muslins, after which he was asked to undress and enrobe himself in a sky coloured vest and a cap striped with red and white; which he had hardly put on when a thundering knock at the gate put an end to his transports, and the wife pretending great alarm, as it was her husband’s rap, forced him into the bed-chamber, where, to his surprise he discovered three of his intimate acquaintance.

The husband, who had left his hiding place and knocked at the door, now entered, and after saluting his wife, sat down, when having partaken of the refreshments provided for the gallants, the happy couple entered into conversation loud enough to be overheard by the wretched inamorati, who were quaking for fear of discovery.  “Light of my eyes,” said the husband, “didst thou meet with any thing amusing to-day in thy visit to the bath? and if so, divert me with an account of it.”  “I did, indeed,” said the lady, “for I met with four antic creatures, whom” (at hearing this the unfortunate lovers gave themselves over for lost) “I had a great inclination to bring home with me” (here they recovered a little from their alarm) “to divert us, but fearful of your displeasure I did not; however, if agreeable, we can send for them to-morrow.”  The frighted gallants now indulged some hope of escape through the kindness of their cunning mistress, and began to breathe a little freer, but very short was the suspension of their fears.  “I am sorry thou didst not bring them,” said the husband, “because business will to-morrow call me from home, and I shall be absent for some days.”  Upon this, the lady laughing, said, “Well, then, you must know that in fact I have brought them, and was diverting myself with them when you came in, but fearful you might suspect something wrong I hurried them into our bed-chamber, in order to conceal them till I had tried your temper, hoping, should you not be in good humour, to find some means of letting them out undiscovered.”  It is impossible to describe the alarm into which the wretched gallants were now plunged, especially when the husband commanded his wife to bring them out one by one, saying, “Let each entertain us with a dance and then recite a story, but if they do not please me, I will strike off their heads.”  “Heaven protect us,” said the cauzee, “how can men of our gravity dance? but there is no resisting the decrees of fate, nor do I see any chance of escape from this artful baggage and her savage husband but by performing as well as we can.”  His companions were of the same opinion, and mustered what courage they could to act as they should be ordered.

The wife now entered the chamber, and putting a tambourine into the cauzee’s hands, led him out and began to play a merry tune upon her lute, to which the affrighted magistrate danced with a thousand antics and grimaces like an old baboon, beating time with the tambourine, to the great delight of the husband, who every now and then jeeringly cried out, “Really wife, if I did not know this fellow was a buffoon, I should take him for our cauzee; but God forgive me, I know our worthy magistrate is either at his devotions, or employed in investigating cases for to-morrow’s decision.”  Upon this the cauzee danced with redoubled vigour, and more ridiculous gestures, in hopes of evading discovery.  At length he was overpowered by such unusual exercise; but the husband had no mercy upon his sufferings, and made him continue capering by threatening the bastinado, till the tired judge was exhausted, and fainted upon the floor in a bath of perspiration, when they held him up, and pouring a goblet of wine down his throat it somewhat revived him.  He was now suffered to breathe a little, and something given him to eat, which, with a second cup of liquor, recovered his strength.  The husband now demanded his story; and the cauzee, assuming the gesture of a coffee-house droll, began as follows.

The Cauzee’s Story.

A young tailor, whose shop was opposite the house of an officer, was so attracted from his work by the appearance of a beautiful young lady, his wife, in her balcony, that he became desperately in love, and would sit whole days waiting her coming, and when she showed herself make signs of his passion.  For some time his ridiculous action diverted her, but at length she grew tired of the farce she had kept up by answering his signals, and of the interruption it gave to her taking the fresh air, so that she resolved to punish him for his presumption, and oblige him to quit his stall.  Having laid her plan, one day when her husband was gone out for a few hours she dispatched a female slave to invite the tailor to drink coffee.  To express the rapture of the happy snip is impossible.  He fell at the feet of the slave, which he kissed as the welcome messengers of good tidings, gave her a piece of gold, and uttered some nonsensical verses that he had composed in praise of his beloved; then dressing himself in his best habit, he folded his turban in the most tasty manner, and curled his mustachios to the greatest advantage, after which he hastened exultingly to the lady’s house, and was admitted to her presence.  She sat upon a rich musnud, and gracefully lifting up her veil welcomed the tailor, who was so overcome that he had nearly fainted away with excess of rapture.  She desired him to be seated, but such was his bashfulness that he would not approach farther than the corner of the carpet.  Coffee was brought in, and a cup presented him; but not being used to such magnificence and form, and his eyes, also, being staringly fixed on the beauties of the lady, instead of carrying the cup to his mouth, he hit his nose and overthrew the liquid upon his vest.  The lady smiled, and ordered him another cup; but while he was endeavouring to drink it with a little more composure, a loud knock was heard at the door, and she starting up, cried out with great agitation, “Good heavens! this is my husband’s knock; if he finds us together he will sacrifice us to his fury!” The poor tailor, in terror, fell flat upon the carpet, when the lady and her slave threw some cold water upon his face, and when a little recovered hurried him away to a chamber, into which they forced him, and desired him to remain quiet, as the only means of saving his life.  Here he remained quivering and trembling, more alive than dead, but perfectly cured of his love, and vowing never again to look up at a balcony.

When the tailor was disposed of, the lady again sat down upon her stool, and ordered her slave to open the gate.  Upon her husband’s entering the room he was surprised at beholding things set out for an entertainment, and inquired who had been with her; when she replied tartly, “A lover.”  “And where is he now?” angrily replied the officer.  “In yonder chamber, and if you please you may sacrifice him to your fury, and myself afterwards.”  The officer demanded the key, which she gave him; but while this was passing, the agony of the unfortunate tailor was worse than death; he fully expecting every moment to have his head struck off:  in short, he was in a most pitiable condition.  The officer went to the door, and had put the key into the lock, when his wife burst suddenly into a fit of laughter:  upon which he exclaimed angrily, “Who do you laugh at?” “Why, at yourself, to be sure, my wise lord,” replied the lady; “for who but yourself could suppose a woman serious when she told him where to find out a concealed lover?  I wanted to discover how far jealousy would carry you, and invented this trick for the purpose,” The officer, upon this, was struck with admiration of his wife’s pleasantry and his own credulity, which so tickled his fancy that he laughed immoderately, begged pardon for his foolish conduct, and they spent the evening cheerfully together; after which, the husband going to the bath, his wife charitably released the almost dead tailor, and reproving him for his impertinence, declared if he ever again looked up at her balcony she would contrive his death.  The tailor, perfectly cured of love for his superior in life, made the most abject submission, thanked her for his deliverance, hurried home, prayed heartily for his escape, and the very next day took care to move from so dangerous a neighbourhood.

The husband and wife were highly diverted with the cauzee’s story, and after another dance permitted him to depart, and get home as well as he could in his ridiculous habit.  How he got there, and what excuse he was able to make for so unmagisterial an appearance, we are not informed; but strange whispers went about the city, and the cauzee’s dance became the favourite one or the strolling drolls, whom he had often the mortification of seeing taking him off as he passed to and from the tribunal, and not unfrequently in causes of adultery the evidences and culprits would laugh in his face.  He, however, never again suffered Satan to tempt him, and was scarcely able to look at a strange woman, so great was his fear of being led astray.

When the cauzee was gone, the lady, repairing to the apartment, brought out the grave tax-collector, whom her husband addressed by name, saying, “Venerable sir, how long have you turned droll? can you favour me with a dance?” The tax-collector made no reply, but began capering, nor was he permitted to stop till quite tired.  He was then allowed to sit, some refreshment was given him, and when revived he was desired to tell a story:  knowing resistance vain, he complied.  After having finished he was dismissed, and the other gallants were brought in and treated in a like manner.

STORY OF THE MERCHANT, HIS DAUGHTER, AND THE PRINCE OF EERAUK.

A certain rich merchant was constantly repining, because Providence had not added to his numerous blessings that of a child to inherit his vast wealth.  This want destroyed the power of affluence to make him happy, and he importuned heaven with unceasing prayers.  At length one evening, just as he had concluded his devotions, he heard a voice, saying, “Thy request has been heard, and thou wilt have a daughter, but she will give thee much uneasiness in her fourteenth year by an amour with the prince of Eerauk, and remember there is no avoiding the decrees of fate.”

The merchant’s wife that same night conceived, and at the usual time brought forth a daughter, who grew up an exquisite beauty.  No pains were spared in her education, so that at thirteen she became most accomplished, and the fame of her charms and perfections was spread throughout the city.  The merchant enjoyed the graces of his child, but at the same time his heart was heavy with anxiety for her fate, whenever he called to mind the prediction concerning her; so that at length he determined to consult a celebrated dervish, his friend, on the possible means of averting the fulfilment of the prophecy.  The dervish gave him but little hopes of being able to counteract the will of heaven, but advised him to carry the beautiful maiden to a sequestered mansion, situated among unfrequented mountains surrounding it on all sides, and the only entrance to which was by a dark cavern hewn out of the solid rock, which might be safely guarded by a few faithful domestics.  “Here,” said the dervish, “your daughter may pass the predicted year, and if any human care can avail she may be thus saved from the threatened dishonour; but it is in vain for man to fight against the arms of heaven, therefore prepare thy mind for resignation to its decrees.”

The merchant followed the advice of his friend, and having made the necessary preparations, accompanied by him, and attended by some white and black slaves of both sexes, arrived, after a month’s journey, with his daughter, at the desired mansion; in which having placed her, he, after a day’s repose, took his departure homewards with the dervish.  Ample stores of all necessaries for her accommodation had been laid in, and slaves male and female were left for her attendance and protection.  Not many days, had elapsed when an incident occurred, clearly proving the emptiness of human caution against the predestination of fate.  The prince of Eerauk being upon a hunting excursion outrode his attendants, and missing his way, reached the gate of the cavern leading to the mansion, which was guarded by two black slaves, who seeing a stranger, cried out to him to withdraw.  He stopped his horse, and in a supplicating tone requested protection and refreshment for the night, as he had wandered from the road, and was almost exhausted from weariness and want of food.  The slaves were moved by the representation of his distress, as well as awed by his noble appearance, and apprehending no danger from a single person, conducted him through the cavern, into the beautiful valley, in which stood the mansion.  They then informed their mistress of his arrival, who commanded him to be introduced into an apartment, in which an elegant entertainment was provided, where she gave him the most hospitable reception.  To become known to each other was to love; nor was it long ere the prediction respecting the merchant’s daughter proved fully verified.  Some months passed in mutual happiness; when the prince, becoming anxious to return to his friends, took leave of his mistress, promising when he had seen his family to visit her again, and make her his wife.

On his way he met the merchant, who was coming to see his daughter.  Halting at the same spot they fell into conversation, in which each inquired after the other’s situation, and the prince, little aware to whom he was speaking, related his late adventure.  The merchant, convinced that all his caution had been vain, concealed his uneasiness, resolved to take his daughter home, make the best of what had happened, and never again to struggle against fate.  On his arrival at the cavern he found his daughter unwell; and before they reached their own abode she was delivered of a male infant, who, to save her credit, was left exposed in a small tent with a sum of money laid under its pillow, in hopes that the first passenger would take the child under his care.  It so happened, that a caravan passing by, the leader of it, on examining the tent and seeing the infant, took it up, and having no children adopted it as his own.  The prince of Eerauk having seen his parents, again repaired to visit his beautiful mistress, and on his journey to the cavern once more met the merchant, who, at his daughter’s request, was travelling towards Eerauk to acquaint him with her situation.  The prince, overjoyed, accompanied the merchant home, married the young lady, and with her parents returned to his dominions.  Their exposed son, after long inquiry, was discovered, and liberal rewards bestowed on the leader of the caravan, who at his own request was permitted to reside in the palace of Eerauk, and superintend the education of his adopted son.

Adventures of the cauzee, his wife, &c.

In the capital of Bagdad there was formerly a cauzee, who filled the seat of justice with the purest integrity, and who by his example in private life gave force to the strictness of his public decrees.  After some years spent in this honourable post, he became anxious to make the pilgrimage to Mecca; and having obtained permission of the caliph, departed on his pious journey, leaving his wife, a beautiful woman, under the protection of his brother, who promised to respect her as his daughter.  The cauzee, however, had not long left home, when the brother, instigated by passion, made love to his sister-in-law, which she rejected with scorn; being, however, unwilling to expose so near a relative to her husband, she endeavoured to divert him from his purpose by argument on the heinousness of his intended crime, but in vain.  The abominable wretch, instead of repenting, a gain and again offered his love, and at last threatened, if she would not accept his love, to accuse her of adultery, and bring upon her the punishment of the law.  This threat having no effect, the atrocious villain suborned evidences to swear that they had seen her in the act of infidelity, and she was sentenced to receive one hundred strokes with a knotted whip, and be banished from the city.  Having endured this disgraceful punishment, the unhappy lady was led through Bagdad by the public executioner, amid the taunts and scorns of the populace; after which she was thrust oat of the gates and left to shift for herself.  Relying on Providence, and without complaining of its decrees, she resolved to travel to Mecca, in hopes of meeting her husband, and clearing her defamed character to him, whose opinion alone she valued.  When advanced some days on her journey she entered a city, and perceived a great crowd of people following the executioner, who led a young man by a rope tied about his neck.  Inquiring the crime of the culprit, she was informed that he owed a hundred deenars, which being unable to pay, he was sentenced to be hung, such being the punishment of insolvent debtors in that city.  The cauzee’s wife, moved with compassion, immediately tendered the sum, being nearly all she had, when the young man was released, and falling upon his knees before her, vowed to dedicate his life to her service.  She related to him her intention of making the pilgrimage to Mecca, upon which the young man requested to accompany and protect her, to which she consented.  They set out on their journey; but had not proceeded many days, when the youth forgot his obligations, and giving way to impulse, insulted his benefactress by offering her his love.  The unfortunate lady reasoned with him on the ingratitude of his conduct, and the youth seemed to be convinced and repentant, but revenge rankled in his heart.  Some days after this they reached the sea-shore, where the young man perceiving a ship, made a signal to speak with it, and the master letting down his boat sent it to land; upon which the young man going on board the vessel, informed the master that he had for sale a handsome female slave, for whom he asked a thousand deenars.  The master, who had been used to purchase slaves upon that coast, went on shore, and looking at the cauzee’s wife, paid the money to the wicked young man, who went his way, and the lady was carried on board the ship, supposing that her companion had taken the opportunity of easing her fatigue, by procuring her a passage to some sea-port near Mecca:  but her persecution was not to end here.  In the evening she was insulted by attentions of the master of the vessel, who being surprised at her coolness, informed her that he had purchased her as his slave for a thousand deenars.  The unfortunate lady told him that she was a free woman, but this had no effect on the brutish sailor, who finding tenderness ineffectual proceeded to force and blows in order to reduce her to submit to his authority.  Her strength was almost exhausted, when suddenly the ship struck upon a rock, the master was hurried upon deck, and in a few moments the vessel went to pieces.  Providentially the virtuous wife laying hold of a plank was wafted to the shore, after being for several hours buffeted by the waves.  Having recovered her senses she walked inland, and found a pleasant country abounding in fruits and clear streams, which satisfied her hunger and thirst.  On the second day she arrived at a magnificent city, and on entering it was conducted to the sultan, who inquiring her story, she informed him that she was a woman devoted to a religious life, and was proceeding on the pilgrimage to Mecca, when her vessel was shipwrecked on his coast, and whether any of the crew had escaped she knew not, as she had seen none of them since her being cast ashore on a plank; but as now the hopes of her reaching the sacred house were cut off, if the sultan would allot her a small hut, and a trifling pittance for her support, she would spend the remainder of her days in prayers for the prosperity of himself and his subjects.

The sultan, who was truly devout, and pitied the misfortune of the lady, gladly acceded to her request, and allotted a pleasant garden-house near his palace for her residence, at which he often visited her, and conversed with her on religious topics, to his great edification and comfort, for she was sensibly pious.  Not long after her arrival, several refractory vassals who had for years withheld their usual tribute, and against whom the good sultan, unwilling to shed blood, though his treasury much felt the defalcation, had not sent a force to compel payment, unexpectedly sent in their arrears; submissively begged pardon for their late disobedience, and promised in future to be loyal in their duty.  The sultan, who attributed this fortunate event to the successful prayers of his virtuous guest, mentioned his opinion to his courtiers in full divan, and they to their dependents.  As, according to the proverb, the sheep always follow their leader, so it was in the present instance.  All ranks of people on every emergency flocked to beg the prayers and counsel of the sultan’s favourite devotee; and such was their efficacy, that her clients every day became more numerous, nor were they ungrateful; so that in a short time the offerings made to her amounted in value to an incalculable sum.  Her reputation was not confined to the kingdom of her protector, but spread gradually abroad through all the countries in the possession of true believers, who came from all parts of Asia to solicit her prayers.  Her residence was enlarged to a vast extent, in which she supported great numbers of destitute persons, as well as entertained the crowds of poor people who came in pilgrimage to so holy a personage as she was now esteemed.  But we must now return to her pious husband.

The good cauzee having finished the ceremonies of his pilgrimage at Mecca, where he resided one year, and visited all the holy spots around, returned to Bagdad:  but dreadful was his agony and grief when informed that his wife had played the harlot, and that his brother, unable to bear the disgrace of his family, had left the city, and had not been heard of since.  This sad intelligence had such an effect upon his mind, that he resolved to give up worldly concerns, and adopt the life of a wandering religious, to move from place to place, from country to country, and visit the devotees celebrated for sanctity in each.  For two years he travelled through various kingdoms, and at length hearing of his wife’s fame, though he little supposed the much-talked-of female saint stood in that relation to himself, he resolved to pay his respects to so holy a personage.  With this view he journeyed towards the capital of the sultan her protector, hoping to receive benefit from her pious conversation and prayers.

The cauzee on his way overtook his treacherous brother, who, repenting of his wicked life, had turned mendicant, and was going to confess his sins, and ask the prayers for absolution of the far-famed religious woman.  Time and alteration of dress, for they were both habited as dervishes, caused the brothers not to know each other.  As fellow travellers they entered into conversation; and finding they were both bound the same way, agreed to continue their journey together.  They had not proceeded many days when they came up with a driver of camels, who informed them that he was upon the same errand as themselves, having been guilty of a horrid crime, the reflection upon which tormented his conscience, and made life miserable; that he was going to confess his sins to the pious devotee, and consult her on whatever penance could atone for his villany, of which he had heartily repented, and hoped to obtain the mercy of heaven by a sincere reformation of life.  The crime of this wretch was no less than murder; the circumstances of which we forgot to detail in its proper place.  The cauzee’s wife immediately after her expulsion from Bagdad, and before she had met the young man who sold her for a slave, had taken shelter in the hut of a camel breeder, whose wife owed her great obligations, and who received her with true hospitality and kindness; consoling her in her misfortunes, dressing her wounds, and insisting on her stay till she should be fully recovered of the painful effects of her unjust and disgraceful punishment; and in this she was seconded by the honest husband.  With this humble couple, who had an infant son, she remained some time, and was recovering her spirits and beauty when the wicked camel breeder, first mentioned, arrived on a visit to her host; and being struck with her beauty made love to her, which she mildly but firmly rejected, informing him that she was a married woman.  Blinded by passion, the wretch pressed his addresses repeatedly, but in vain; till at length, irritated by refusal, he changed his love into furious anger, and resolved to revenge his disappointed lust by her death.  With this view he armed himself with a poniard; and about midnight, when the family were asleep, stole into the chamber where she reposed, and close by her the infant son of her generous host.  The villain being in the dark made a random stroke, not knowing of the infant, and instead of stabbing the object of his revenge, plunged his weapon into the bosom of the child, who uttered loud screams; upon which the assassin, fearful of detection, ran away, and escaped from the house.  The cauzee’s wife awaking in a fright, alarmed her unhappy hosts, who, striking a light, came to her assistance; but how can we describe their agonizing affliction when they beheld their beloved child expiring, and their unfortunate guest, who had swooned away, bathed in the infant’s blood.  From such a scene we turn away, as the pen is incapable of description.  The unhappy lady at length revived, but their darling boy was gone for ever.  Some days after this tragical event she began her pilgrimage, and, as above stated, reached the city where she released the young man from his cruel creditors, and was shortly afterwards ungratefully sold by him as a slave.  But to return to the good cauzee and his wicked companions.

They had not travelled far when they overtook a young man, who saluted them, and inquired their course; of which being informed, he begged to join in company, saying, that he also was going to pay his respects to the celebrated religious, in hopes that by her prayers he might obtain pardon of God for a most flagitious ingratitude; the remorse for which had rendered him a burthen to himself ever since the commission of the crime.  The four pilgrims pursued their journey, and a few days afterwards overtook the master of a vessel, who told them he had some time back suffered shipwreck; since which he had undergone the severest distress, and was now going to request the aid of the far-famed woman, whose charities and miraculous prayers had been noised abroad through all countries.  The companions then invited him to join them, and they proceeded on the pilgrimage together, till at length they reached the capital of the good sultan who protected the cauzee’s wife.

The five pilgrims having entered the city, repaired immediately to the abode of the respected devotee; the courts of which were crowded with petitioners from all parts, so that they could with difficulty gain admission.  Some of her domestics seeing they were strangers newly arrived, and seemingly fatigued, kindly invited them, into an apartment, and to repose themselves while they informed their mistress of their arrival; which having done, they brought word that she would see them when the crowd was dispersed, and hear their petitions at her leisure.  Refreshments were then brought in, of which they were desired to partake, and the pilgrims having make their ablutions, sat down to eat, all the while admiring and praising the hospitality of their pious hostess; who, unperceived by them, was examining their persons and features through the lattice of a balcony, at one end of the hall.  Her heart beat with joyful rapture when she beheld her long lost husband, whose absence she had never ceased to deplore, but scarcely expected ever to meet him again; and great was her surprise to find him in company with his treacherous brother, her infamous intending assassin, her ungrateful betrayer the young man, and the master of the vessel to whom he had sold her as a slave.  It was with difficulty she restrained her feelings; but not choosing to discover herself till she should hear their adventures, she withdrew into her chamber, and being relieved by tears prostrated herself on the earth, and offered up thanksgivings to the protector of the just, who had rewarded her patience under affliction by succeeding blessings, and at length restored to her the partner of her heart.  Having finished her devotions, she sent to the sultan requesting him to send her a confidential officer, who might witness the relations of five visitors whom she was going to examine.  On his arrival she placed him where he could listen unseen; and covering herself with a veil, sat down on her stool to receive the pilgrims, who being admitted, bowed their foreheads to the ground; when requesting them to arise, she addressed them as follows:  “You are welcome, brethren, to my humble abode, to my counsel and my prayers, which, by God’s mercy, have sometimes relieved the repentant sinner; but as it is impossible I can give advice without hearing a case, or pray without knowing the wants of him who entreats me, you must relate your histories with the strictest truth, for equivocation, evasion, or concealment, will prevent my being of any service; and this you may depend upon, that the prayers of a liar tend only to his own destruction.”  Having said this, she ordered the cauzee to remain, but the other four to withdraw; as she should, to spare their shame before each other, hear their cases separately.  The good cauzee having no sins to confess related his pilgrimage to Mecca; the supposed infidelity of his wife; and his consequent resolve to spend his days in visiting sacred places and holy personages, among whom she stood so famous, that to hear her edifying conversation, and entreat the benefit of her prayers for his unhappy wife, was the object of his having travelled to her sacred abode.  When he had finished his narrative the lady dismissed him to another chamber, and heard one by one the confessions of his companions; who not daring to conceal any thing, related their cruel conduct towards herself, as above-mentioned; but little suspecting that they were acknowledging their guilt to the intended victim of their evil passions.  After this the cauzee’s wife commanded the officer to conduct all five to the sultan, and inform him of what he had heard them confess.  The sultan, enraged at the wicked behaviour of the cauzee’s brother, the camel-driver, the young man, and the master of the vessel, condemned them to death; and the executioner was preparing to put the sentence in force, when the lady arriving at the presence demanded their pardon; and to his unspeakable joy discovered herself to her delighted husband.  The sultan complying with her request, dismissed the criminals; but prevailed on the cauzee to remain at his court, where for the remainder of his life this upright judge filled the high office of chief magistrate with honour to himself, and satisfaction to all who had causes tried before him; while he and his faithful partner continued striking examples of virtue and conjugal felicity.  The sultan was unbounded in his favour towards them, and would often pass whole evenings in their company in friendly conversation, which generally turned upon the vicissitudes of life, and the goodness of Providence in relieving the sufferings of the faithful, by divine interposition, at the very instant when ready to sink under them and overwhelmed with calamity.  “I myself,” said the sultan, “am an example of the protection of heaven, as you, my friends, will learn from my adventures.”  He then began as follows.

The Sultan’s Story of Himself.

Though now seated on a throne, I was not born to such exalted rank, but am the son of a rich merchant in a country far distant from this which I now govern.  My father brought me up to his own profession; and by instruction and example encouraged me to be virtuous, diligent, and honest.  Soon after I had attained to the age of manhood death snatched away this valuable parent, who in his last moments gave me instructions for my future conduct; but particularly requested that nothing might ever prevail upon me to take an oath, though ever so just or necessary to my concerns.  I assured him it would not:  soon after which he breathed his last, leaving me, my mother, and sister in sincere grief for his loss.  After the funeral I examined his property, and found myself in possession of a vast sum of money, besides an ample stock in trade, two-thirds of which I immediately paid to my mother and sister, who retired to a house which they purchased for themselves.  Many weeks had not elapsed when a merchant set up a claim on my father’s estate for a sum of money equal to nearly the whole that I possessed:  I asked him for his bond, but he had none, yet swore solemnly to the justice of his demand.  I had no doubt of the falsity of his oath, but as I had promised never to swear, I could not disprove it by mine, and therefore was obliged to pay the money, which I did entirely from my own share, not choosing to distress my mother and sister by lessening theirs.  After this, other unjust demands were preferred, and I paid them, rather than falsify my promise to my father, though by so doing I became reduced to the most abject poverty, as still I would not trouble my mother.  At length I resolved to quit my native city, and seek for subsistence in a distant country as clerk to a merchant, or in any other way that might offer.  I accordingly set out alone, and had travelled some days, when in passing over a sandy desert I met a venerable looking personage dressed in white, who kindly accosting me, inquired the object of my journey:  upon which I related my story.  The old man blessed me, highly praised the steadfastness of my adherence to the promise I had made to a dying father; and said, “My son, be not dismayed, thy virtuous conduct has been approved by our holy prophet, who has interceded for thee at the throne of bounty:  follow me, and reap the reward of thy sufferings.”  I did as he desired; and we, after some time, reached this city, which was then wholly depopulated, and even this palace in a state of decay.  On our entrance my venerable guide bade me welcome, saying, “Here heaven has decreed thee to reign, and thou wilt soon become a powerful sultan.”  He then conducted me to the palace, and we descended from one of the apartments into a vault, where to my astonishment I beheld vast heaps of gold and silver ingots, large bags of coins of the same metals, and several rich chests filled with jewels of inestimable value, of all which he saluted me master.  I was overcome with astonishment; but said, “Of what use is all this wealth in a depopulated city? and how can I be a sultan without subjects?” The old man smiled, and said, “Have patience, my son; this evening a numerous caravan will arrive here composed of emigrants, who are in search of a settlement, and they will elect thee their sovereign.”  His words proved true; the caravan arrived, when the old man invited them to inhabit the city; his offer was gladly accepted, and by his direction they declared me their sultan.  My protector remained with me a whole year, during which he gave me instructions how to govern, and I became what I am.  Heaven has prospered my endeavours to do good:  the fame of my liberality, justice, and clemency soon spread abroad; the city was soon filled by industrious inhabitants, who repaired the decayed buildings, and erected new ones.  The country round became well cultivated, and our port was filled with vessels from every quarter.  I shortly after sent for my family, for I had left behind me a wife and two sons; and you may guess from your own joy at meeting after long separation what must have been mine on such an occasion.  My venerable patron, at the expiration of the year, one day thus addressed me:  “My son, as my mission is completed I must now leave you; but be not alarmed, for provided thou continuest to act as thou hast begun, we shall meet again.  Know that I am the prophet Khizzer, and was sent by heaven to protect thee.  Mayest thou deserve its blessings!” Having said this he embraced me in his arms, and then vanished, how I know not, from my sight.  For some time I continued rapt in astonishment and wonder, which at length gave place to reverential awe and gratitude to heaven; by degrees I recovered myself, and bowed down with fervent devotion.  I have endeavoured to follow the admonitions of my holy adviser.  It is unnecessary to say more; you see my state and the happiness I enjoy.

Conclusion.

The sultan of the Indies could not but admire the prodigious and inexhaustible memory of the sultaness his wife, who had entertained him so many nights with such a variety of interesting stories.

A thousand and one nights had passed away in these innocent amusements, which contributed so much towards removing the sultan’s unhappy prejudice against the fidelity of women.  His temper was softened.  He was convinced of the merit and great wisdom of the sultaness Scheherazade.  He remembered with what courage she had offered to be his wife, without fearing the death to which she knew she exposed herself, as so many sultanesses had suffered within her knowledge.

These considerations, and the many other good qualities he knew her to possess, induced him at last to forgive her.  “I see, lovely Scheherazade,” said he, “that you can never be at a loss for these little stories, which have so long diverted me.  You have appeased my anger.  I freely renounce the law I had imposed on myself.  I restore your sex to my favourable opinion, and will have you to be regarded as the deliverer of the many damsels I had resolved to sacrifice to my unjust resentment.”

The sultaness cast herself at his feet, and embraced them tenderly with all the marks of the most lively and perfect gratitude.

The grand vizier was the first who learned this agreeable intelligence from the sultan’s own mouth.  It was instantly carried to the city, towns, and provinces; and gained the sultan, and the lovely Scheherazade his consort, universal applause, and the blessings of all the people of the extensive empire of the Indies.

End of Volume 4.

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