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The Arabian Nights Entertainments

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 Merchand 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 scon 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 deep
natural 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 de-
parted 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 kind- ness 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 Iaid 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 ofa 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.

             THE HISTORY 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, "Il 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 pleasent 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 hr 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-aoudat
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.

               THE STORY 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, A]la 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.