THE STORY OF THE VIZIER THAT WAS PUNISHED.

There was a king, says the vizier, who had a son that loved

hunting mightily. He allowed him to divert himself that way very

often, but gave orders to his grand vizier to attend him

constantly, and never to lose sight of him.

One hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince

who thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and

with so much earnestness, that he was left quite alone. He

stopped, and finding that he had lost his way, endeavoured to

return the same way he came, to find out the vizier, who had not

been careful enough to find him, and so wandered further.

Whilst he rode up and down without keeping any road, he met, by

the way-side, a handsome lady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his

horse, asked who she was, how she came to be alone in that place,

and what she wanted? I am, says she, daughter of an Indian king;

as I was taking the air on horseback in the country, I grew

sleepy, fell from my horse, who is got away, and I know not what

is become of him. The young prince, taking compassion on her,

asked her to get up behind him, which she willingly accepted.

As they passed by the ruins of a house, the lady signified a

desire to alight on some occasion. The prince stopped his horse,

and suffered her to alight; then he alighted himself, and went

near the ruins with his horse in his hand: But you may judge how

much he was surprised, when he heard the lady within it say these

words, "Be glad, my children, I bring you a handsome young man,

and very fat;" and other voices which answered immediately,

"Mamma, where is he, that we may eat him presently, for we are

very hungry."

The prince heard enough to convince him of his danger, and then

he perceived that the lady, who called herself daughter to an

Indian king, was a hogress, wife to one of those savage demons

called hogress, who live in remote places, and make use of a

thousand wiles to surprise and devour passengers; so that the

prince, being thus frightened, mounted his horse as soon as he

could.

The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving

that she had missed her prey, she cries, Fear nothing, prince!

Who are you? Whom do you seek? I have lost my way, replies he,

and am seeking it. If you have lost your way, says she, recommend

yourself to God, he will deliver you out of your perplexity. Then

the prince lift up his eyes towards Heaven. But, sir, says

Scheherazade, I am obliged to break off, for day appears.

I long mightily, says Dinarzade, to know what became of that

young prince, I tremble for him. I will deliver you from your

uneasiness to-morrow, answers the sultaness, if the sultan will

allow me to live till then. Schahriar, willing to hear an end of

this adventure, prolonged Scheherazade's life for another day.

The Sixteenth Night.

Dinarzade had such a mighty desire to hear out the story of the

young prince, that she awaked that night sooner than ordinary,

and said, Sister, pray go on with the story you began yesterday:

I am much concerned for the young prince, and ready to die for

fear that he was eaten up by the hogress and her children.

Schahriar having signified that he had the same fear, the

sultaness replies, Well, Sir, I will satisfy you immediately.

After the counterfeit Indian princess had bid the young prince

recommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke

sincerely, but thought she was sure of him, and therefore lifting

up his hands to Heaven, said, Almighty Lord, cast thine eyes upon

me, and deliver me from this enemy. After this prayer, the

hogress entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all

possible haste. He happily found his way again, and arrived safe

and sound at his father's court, to whom he gave a particular

account of the danger he had been in through the vizier's

neglect; upon which the king, being incensed against that

minister, ordered him to be strangled that very moment.

Sir, continues the Grecian king's vizier, to return to the

physician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put

in him will be fatal to you: I am very well assured that he is a

spy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty's life. He has

cured you, you will say: But, alas! who can assure you of that?

He has perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically;

who knows but the medicines he has given you may in time have

pernicious effects?

The Grecian king, who had naturally very little sense, was not

able to discover the wicked design of his vizier, nor had he

firmness enough to persist in his first opinion. This discourse

staggered him: Vizier, says he, thou art in the right; he may be

come on purpose to take away my life, which he may easily do by

the very smell of some of his drugs. We must consider what is fit

for us to do in this case.

When the vizier found the king in such a temper as he would have

him, Sir, says he, the surest and speediest method you can take

to secure your life, is to send immediately for the physician

Douban, and order his head to be cut off as soon as he comes. In

truth, says the king, I believe that is the way we must take to

prevent his design. When he had spoken thus, he called for one of

his officers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who,

knowing nothing of the king's design, came to the palace in

haste.

Know ye, says the king, when he saw him, why I sent for you? No,

Sir, answered he; I wait till your majesty be pleased to inform

me. I sent for you, replied the king, to rid myself of you by

taking your life.

No man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard

the sentence of death pronounced against him. Sir, says he, why

would your majesty take away my life? What crime have I

committed? I am informed by good hands, replies the king, that

you come to my court only to attempt my life; but, to prevent

you, I will be sure of yours. Give the blow, says he to the

executioner, who was present, and deliver me from a perfidious

wretch, who came hither on purpose to assassinate me.

When the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that

the honours and presents he had received from the king had

procured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed upon.

He repented that he had cured him of his leprosy, but it was now

too late. Is it thus, replies the physician, that you reward me

for curing you? The king would not hearken to him, but ordered

the executioner a second time to strike the fatal blow. The

physician then had recourse to his prayers: Alas! sir, cries he,

prolong my days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to

death, lest God treat you in the same manner. The fisherman broke

off his discourse here, to apply it to the genie. Well, genie,

says he, you see that what passed then betwixt the Grecian king

and his physician Douban is acted just now betwixt us.

The Grecian king, continues he, instead of having regard to the

prayers of the physician, who begged him for God's sake to spare

him, cruelly replied to him, No, no; I must of necessity cut you

off, otherwise you may take away my life with as much subtleness

as you cured me. The physician, melting into tears, and bewailing

himself sadly for being so ill rewarded by the king, prepared for

death. The executioner bound up his eyes, tied his hands, and

went to draw his scimitar.

Then the courtiers, who were present, being moved with

compassion, begged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty

that he was not guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that

they would answer for his innocence; but the king was inflexible,

and answered them so, as they dared not to say any more of the

matter.

The physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to

receive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king:

Sir, says he, since your majesty will not revoke the sentence of

death, I beg, at least, that you will give me leave to return to

my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to my

family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who are

capable of making good use of them. I have one in particular I

would present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and

worthy to be laid up very carefully in your treasury. Well,

replies the king, why is that book so precious as you talk of?

Sir, says the physician, because it contains an infinite number

of curious things, of which the chief is, that when you have cut

off my head, if your majesty will give yourself the trouble to

open the book at the sixth leaf, and read the third line of the

left page, my head will answer all the questions you ask it. The

king, being curious to see such a wonderful thing, deferred his

death till next day, and sent him home under a strong guard.

The physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and

the report being spread, that an unheard-of prodigy was to happen

after his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and,

in a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of

audience, that they might be witnesses of it.

The physician Douban was soon brought in, and advanced to the

foot of the throne, with a great book in his hand; there he

called for a bason, upon which he laid the cover that the book

was wrapped in, and presenting the book to the king, Sir, says

he, take that book, if you please, and as soon as my head is cut

off, order that it may be put into the bason upon the cover of

the book; as soon as it is put there, the blood will stop; then

open the book, and my head will answer your questions. But, Sir,

says he, permit me once more to implore your majesty's clemency;

for God's sake grant my request, I protest to you that I am

innocent. Your prayers, answers the king, are vain; and if it

were for nothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it

is my will you should die. As he said this, he took the book out

of the physician's hand, and ordered the executioner to do his

duty.

The head was so dexterously cut off, that it fell into the bason,

and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood

stopped; then, to the great surprise of the king, and all the

spectators, it opened its eyes, and said, Sir, will your majesty

be pleased to open the book? The king opened it, and finding that

one leaf was, as it were, glued to another, that he might turn it

with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wet it with

spittle. He did so till he came to the sixth leaf, and finding no

writing on the place where he was bid to look for it, Physician,

says he to the head, here is nothing written. Turn over some more

leaves, replies the head. The king continued to turn over,

putting always his finger to his mouth, until the poison, with

which each leaf was imbued, came to have its effect; the prince

finding himself, all of a sudden, taken with an extraordinary

fit, his eye-sight failed, and he, fell down at the foot of his

throne in great convulsions. At these words Scheherazade,

perceiving day, gave the sultan notice of it, and forbore

speaking. Ah! dear sister, says Dinarzade, how grieved am I that

you have not time to finish this story! I should be inconsolable

if you lose your life to-day. Sister, replies the sultaness, that

must be as the sultan pleases; but I hope he will be so good as

to suspend my death till to-morrow. And accordingly Schahriar,

far from ordering her death that day, expected next night with

much impatience; so earnest was he to hear out the story of the

Grecian king, and the sequel of that of the fisherman and the

genie.

The Seventeenth Night.

Though Dinarzade was very curious to hear the rest of the story

of the Grecian king, she did not awake that night so soon as

usual, so that it was almost day before she called upon the

sultaness; and then said, I pray you, sister, to continue the

wonderful story of the Greek king; but make haste, I beseech you,

for it will speedily be day.

Scheherazade resumed the story where she left off the day before.

Sir, says she to the sultan, when the physician Douban, or rather

his head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king

had but a few moments to live: Tyrant, it cried, now you see how

princes are treated, who, abusing, their authority, cut off

innocent men: God punishes, soon or late, their injustice and

cruelty. Scarcely had the head spoken these words, when the king

fell down dead, and the head itself lost what life it had.

Sir, continues Scheherazade, such was the end of the Grecian

king, and the physician Douban; I must return now to the story of

the fisherman and the genie; but it is not worth while to begin

it now, for it is day. The sultan, who always observed his hours

regularly, could stay no longer, but got up; and having a mind to

hear the sequel of the story of the genie and, the fisherman, he

bid the sultaness prepare to tell it him next night.

The Eighteenth Night.

Dinarzade made amends this night for last night's neglect; she

awaked long before day, and calling upon Scheherazade, Sister,

says she, if you be not asleep, pray give us the rest of the

story of the fisherman and the genie; you know the sultan desires

to hear it as well as I.

I shall soon satisfy his curiosity and yours, answers the

sultaness; and then, addressing herself to Schahriar, Sir,

continued she, as soon as the fisherman had concluded the history

of the Greek king and his physician Douban, he made the

application to the genie, whom he still kept shut up in the

vessel. If the Grecian king, says he, would have suffered him to

live; but he rejected his most humble prayers; and it is the same

with thee, O genie. Could I have prevailed with thee to grant me

the favour I demanded, I should now have had pity upon thee; but

since, notwithstanding the extreme obligation thou wast under to

me for having set thee at liberty, thou didst persist in thy

design to kill me, I am obliged in my turn to be as hard-hearted

to thee.

My good friend fisherman, replies the genie, I conjure thee once

more not to be guilty of so cruel a thing; consider that it is

not good to avenge one's self, and that, on the other hand, it is

commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama treated

Ateca formerly. And what did Imama to Ateca, replies the

fisherman? Ho! says the genie, if you have a mind to know it,

open the vessel; do you think that I can be in a humour to tell

stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you as many as you

please when you let me out. No, says the fisherman, I will not

let thee out, it is in vain to talk of it; I am just going to

throw you into the bottom of the sea. Hear me one word more,

cries the genie, I promise to do thee no hurt; nay, so far from

that, I will show thee a way how thou mayst become exceeding

rich.

The hope of delivering himself from poverty prevailed with the

fisherman. I could listen to thee says he, were there any credit

to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of God,

that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I will

open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break such an

oath.

The genie swore to him, and the fisherman immediately took off

the covering of the vessel. At that very instant the smoke came

out, and the genie having resumed his form as before, the first

thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action

frightened the fisherman: Genie, says he, what is the meaning of

that; will not you keep the oath you made, just now? And must I

say to you as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king,

Suffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.

The genie laughed at the fisherman's fear, and answered, No,

fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to

see if thou wouldst be alarmed at it: But, to persuade thee that

I am in earnest, take thy net and follow me. As he spoke these

words, he walked before the fisherman, who, having taken up his

nets, followed him, but with some distrust: They passed by the

town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they

descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a great pond

that lay betwixt four hills,

When they came to the side of the pond, the genie says to the

fisherman, Cast in thy nets, and take fish; the fisherman did not

doubt to catch some, because he saw a great number in the pond;

but he was extremely surprised when he found they were of four

colours; that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw

in his nets, and brought out one of each colour; having never

seen the like, he could not but admire them, and, judging that he

might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. Carry

these fish, says the genie to him, and present them to the

sultan; he will give you more money for them than ever you had in

your life. You may come every day to fish in this pond, and I

give thee warming not to throw in thy nets above once a day;

otherwise you will repent it. Take heed, and remember my advice;

if you follow it exactly, you will find your account in it.

Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which

opened, and shut again after it had swallowed up the genie.

The fisherman, being resolved to follow the genie's advice

exactly, forebore casting in his nets a second time; but returned

to the town very well satisfied with his fish, and making a

thousand reflections upon his adventure. He went straight to the

sultan's palace to present him his fish. But, sir, says

Scheherazade, I perceive day, and must stop here.

Dear sister, says Dinarzade, how surprising are the last events

you have told us? I have much ado to believe that any thing you

have to say can be more surprising. Sister, replies the

sultaness, if the sultan, my master, will let me live till

to-morrow, I am persuaded you will find the sequel of the history

of the fisherman more wonderful than the beginning of it, and

incomparably more diverting. Schahriar, being curious to know if

the remainder of the story of the fisherman would be such as the

sultaness said, put off the execution of the cruel law one day

more.

The Nineteenth Night.

Towards morning, Dinarzade called the sultaness, and said, Dear

sister, my pendulum tells me it will be day speedily, therefore

pray continue the history of the fisherman; I am extremely

impatient to know what the issue of it was. Scheherazade, having

demanded leave of Schahriar, resumed her discourse as follows:

Sir, I leave it to your majesty to think how much the sultan was

surprised when he saw the four fishes which the fisherman

presented him. He took them up one after another, and beheld them

with attention; and after having admired them a long time, take

these fishes, says he to his prime vizier, and carry them to the

fine cook-maid that the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I

cannot imagine but they must be as good as they are fine.

The vizier carried them himself to the cook, and, delivering them

into her hands, Look ye, says he, there are four fishes newly

brought to the sultan, he orders you to dress them; and, having

said so, he returned to the sultan his master, who ordered him to

give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold of the coin of

that country, which he did accordingly.

The fisherman, who had never seen so much cash in his lifetime,

could scarcely believe his own good fortune, but thought it must

needs be a dream, until he found it to be real, when he provided

necessaries for his family with it.

But, sir, says Scheherazade, having told you what happened to the

fisherman, I must acquaint you next with what befel the sultan's

cook-maid, whom we shall find in a mighty perplexity. As soon as

she had gutted the fishes, she put them upon the fire in a

frying-pan with oil, and when she thought them fried enough on

one side, she turned them upon the other; but, O monstrous

prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen

opened, and in comes a young lady of wonderful beauty and comely

size. She was clad in flowered satin, after the Egyptian manner,

with pendants in her ears, necklace of large pearl, and bracelets

of gold, garnished with rubies, with a rod of myrtle in her hand.

She came towards the frying-pan, to the great amazement of the

cook-maid, who continued immovable at this sight, and, striking

one of the fishes with the end of the rod, says, "Fish, fish, art

thou in thy duty?" The fish having answered nothing, she repeated

these words, and then the four fishes lift up their heads

altogether, and said to her, "Yes, yes, if you reckon, we reckon;

if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and

are content." As soon as they had finished these words, the lady

overturned the frying-pan, and entered again into the open part

of the wall, which shut immediately, and became as it was before.

The cook-maid was mightily frightened at this, and, coming a

little to herself, went to take up the fishes that fell upon the

earth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be

carried to the sultan. She was grievously troubled at it, and

fell a-weeping most bitterly: Alas! says she, what will become of

me? If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not

believe me, but will be mightily enraged against me.

Whilst she was thus bewailing herself, in comes the grand vizier,

and asked her if the fishes were ready? She told him all that had

happened, which, we may easily imagine, astonished him mightily;

but, without speaking a word to the sultan, he invented an excuse

that satisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman,

bid him bring four more such fish; for a misfortune had befallen

the other, that they were not fit to be carried to the sultan.

The fisherman, without saying any thing of what the genie had

told him, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that very

day, told the vizier he had a great way to go for them, but would

certainly bring them to-morrow.

Accordingly the fisherman went away by night, and, coming to the

pond, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four such

fishes as the former, and brought them to the vizier at the hour

appointed. The minister took them himself, carried them to the

kitchen, and shutting himself up all alone with the cook-maid,

she gutted them, and put them on the fire, as she had done the

four others the day before; when they were fried on the one side,

and she had turned them upon the other, the kitchen-wall opened,

and the same lady came in with the rod in her hand, struck one of

the fishes, spoke to it as before, and all four gave her the same

answer. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day appears, which obliges

me to break off. What I have told you is indeed singular, but if

I be alive to-morrow, I will tell you other things which are yet

better worth your hearing. Schahriar, conceiving that the sequel

must be very curious, resolved to hear her next night.

The Twentieth Night.

Next morning the sultan prevented Dinarzade, and says to

Scheherazade, Madam, I pray you make an end of the story of the

fisherman; I am impatient to hear it. Upon which the sultaness

continued it thus:

Sir, after the four fishes had answered the young lady, she

overturned the frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the same

place of the wall from whence she came out. The grand vizier

being witness to what passed, This is too surprising and

extraordinary, says he, to be concealed from the sultan; I will

inform him of this prodigy; which he did accordingly, and gave

him a faithful account of all that had happened.

The sultan, being much surprised, was mighty impatient to see

this himself. To this end, he sent immediately for the fisherman,

and says to him, Friend, cannot you bring me four more such

fishes? The fisherman replied, If your majesty will be pleased to

allow me three days time, I will do it. Having obtained this

time, he went to the pond immediately, and, at the first throwing

in of his net, he took four such fishes, and brought them

presently to the sultan, who was the more rejoiced at it, as he

did not expect them so soon, and ordered him other four hundred

pieces of gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered

them to be carried into the closet, with all that was necessary

for frying them; and having shut himself up there with his

vizier, that minister gutted them, put them in the pan upon the

fire, and when they were fried on one side, turned them upon the

other; then the wall of the closet opened; but, instead of the

young lady, there came out a black, in the habit of a slave, and

of a gigantic stature, with a great green baton in his hand. He

advanced towards the pan, and touching one of the fishes with his

baton, says to it with a terrible voice, "Fish, art thou in thy

duty?" At these words, the fishes raised up their heads, and

answered, "Yes, yes, we are: if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay

your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are

content."

The fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw

the pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced these fishes

to a coal. Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering

again into the hole of the wall, it shut, and appeared just as it

was before.

After what I have seen, says the sultan to the vizier, it will

not be possible for me to be easy in my mind. These fish, without

doubt, signify something extraordinary, in which I have a mind to

be satisfied. He sent for the fisherman; and when he came, says

to him, Fisherman, the fishes you have brought us make me very

uneasy; where did you catch them? Sir, answers he, I fished for

them in a pond situate betwixt four hills, beyond the mountain

that we see from hence. Know you that pond, says the sultan to

the vizier? No, sir, replies the vizier, I never so much as heard

of it; and yet it is not sixty years since I hunted beyond that

mountain and thereabouts. The sultan asked the fisherman, how far

the pond might be from the palace? The fisherman answered, it was

not above three hours journey. Upon this assurance, and there

being day enough beforehand, the sultan commanded all his court

to take horse, and the fisherman served them for a guide. They

all ascended the mountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to

their great surprise, a vast plain, that nobody had observed till

then; and at last they came to the pond, which they found

actually to be situate betwixt four hills, as the fisherman had

said. The water of it was so transparent, that they observed all

the fishes to be like those which the fisherman had brought to

the palace.

The sultan staid upon the bank of the pond, and, after beholding

the fishes with admiration, he demanded of his emirs and all his

courtiers, if it was possible they had never seen this pond,

which was within so little a way of the town. They all answered,

that they had never so much as heard of it.

Since you all agree, says he, that you never heard of it, and as

I am no less astonished than you are, at this novelty I am

resolved not to return to my palace till I know how this pond

came hither, and why all the fish in it are of four colours.

Having spoken thus, he ordered his court to encamp, and

immediately his pavilion, and the tents of his household, were

planted upon the banks of the pond.

When night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke

to the vizier by himself thus: Vizier, my mind is very uneasy:

this pond transported hither, the black that appeared to us in my

closet, and the fishes that we heard speak; all this does so much

whet my curiosity, that I cannot resist the impatient desire that

I have to be satisfied in it. To this end, I am resolved to

withdraw alone from the camp, and I order you to keep my absence

secret; stay in my pavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the

emirs and courtiers come to attend my levee, send them away, and

tell them, that I am somewhat indisposed, and have a mind to be

alone: and the following day tell them the same thing, till I

return.

The grand vizier said several things to divert the sultan from

his design: He represented to him the danger to which he might be

exposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain. But it

was to no purpose; the sultan was resolved on it, and would go.

He put on a suit fit for walking, and took his scimitar; and as

soon as he saw that all was quiet in the camp, he goes out alone,

and went over one of the hills without much difficulty; he found

the descent still more easy, and, when he came to the plain,

walked on till the sun rose, and then he saw before him, at a

considerable distance, a great building. He rejoiced at the

sight, in hopes to be informed there of what he had a mind to

know. When he came near, he found it was a magnificent palace, or

rather a very strong castle, of fine black polished marble, and

covered with fine steel, as smooth as a looking-glass. Being

mightily pleased that he had so speedily met with something

worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle,

and considered it with abundance of attention.

He afterwards came up to the gate, which had two leaves, one of

them open: though he might have entered when he would, yet he

thought it best to knock. He knocked at first softly, "and waited

for some time; but seeing nobody, and supposing they had not

heard him, he knocked harder the second time; but neither seeing

nor hearing anybody, he knocked again and again; but nobody

appearing, it surprised him extremely; for he could not think

that a castle so well in repair was without inhabitants. If there

be nobody in it, says he to himself, I have nothing to fear, and

if there be, I have wherewith to defend me.

At last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cries,

Is there nobody here to receive a stranger, who comes in for some

refreshment as he passes by? He repeated the same two or three

times; but, though he spoke very high, nobody answered.

This silence increased his astonishment; he came into a very

spacious court, and looking on every side to see if he could

perceive any body, he saw no living thing. But, sir, says

Scheherazade, day appears, and I must stop.

Ah! sister, says Dinarzade, you break off at the very best of the

story. It is true, answers the sultaness; but, sister, you see I

am forced to do so. If my lord the sultan pleases, you may hear

the rest to-morrow, Schahriar agreed to this, not so much to

please Dinarzade as to satisfy his own curiosity, being mightily

impatient to hear what adventure the prince met with in the

castle.

The Twenty-first Night.

Dinarzade, to make amends for her neglect the night before, never

laid eye together, and, when she thought it was time, awaked the

sultaness, saying to her, My dear sister, pray give us an account

of what happened in the fine castle where you left us yesterday.

Scheherazade forthwith resumed her story, and, addressing herself

to Schahriar, says, Sir, the sultan, perceiving nobody in the

court, entered the great halls, which were hung with silk

tapestry; the alcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of

Mecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of the Indies,

mixed with gold and silver. He came afterwards into an admirable

saloon, in the middle of which there was a great fountain, with a

lion of massy gold at each corner: Water issued at the mouths of

the four lions, and this water, as it fell, formed diamonds and

pearls, that very well answered a jet of water, which, springing

from the middle of the fountain, rose as high almost as the

bottom of a cupola painted after the Arabian manner.

The castle on three sides was encompassed by a garden, with

flower-pots, water-works, groves, and a thousand other fine

things concurring to embellish it; and what completed the beauty

of the place, was an infinite number of birds, which filled the

air with their harmonious notes, and always staid there; nets

being spread over the trees, and fastened to the palace, to keep

them in. The sultan walked a long time from apartment to

apartment, where he found every thing very grand and magnificent.

Being tired with walking, he sat down in an open closet, which

had a view over the garden, and there reflecting upon what he had

already seen, and did then see, all of a sudden he heard the

voice of one complaining, accompanied with lamentable cries. He

listened with attention, and heard distinctly these sad words: "O

fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy a happy

lot, and hast made me the most unfortunate man in the world,

forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death, put an end to my

sorrows! Alas! is it possible that I am still alive after so many

torments as I have suffered?

The sultan, being affected with those pitiful complaints, rose

up, and made towards the place where he heard the voice; and when

he came to the gate of a great hall, he opened it, and saw a

handsome young man, richly habited, set upon a throne raised a

little above the ground. Melancholy was painted in his looks, The

sultan drew near, and saluted him: The young man returned him his

salute by a low bow with his head; but not being able to rise up,

he says to the sultan, My lord, I am very well satisfied that you

deserve I should rise to receive you, and do you all possible

honour; but I am hindered from doing so by a very sad reason, and

therefore hope you will not take it ill. My lord, replies the

sultan, I am very much obliged to you for having so good an

opinion of me: As to the reason of your not rising, whatever your

apology be, I heartily accept of it. Being drawn hither by your

complaints, and affected by your grief, I came to offer you my

help; would to God that it lay in my power to ease you of your

trouble; I would do my utmost to effect it. I flatter myself that

you would willingly tell me the history of your misfortunes; but

pray tell me first the meaning of the pond near the palace, where

the fishes are of four colours? what this castle is? how you came

to be here? and why you are alone?

Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep

bitterly. "Oh, how inconstant is fortune!" cried he: "She takes

pleasure to pull down those men she hath raised up. Where are

they who enjoy quietly the happiness which they hold of her, and

whose day is always clear and serene?"

The sultan, moved with compassion to see him in that condition,

prayed him forthwith to tell him the cause of his excessive

grief. Alas! my lord, replies the young man, how is it possible

but I should grieve? And why should not my eyes be inexhaustible

fountains of tears? At these words, lifting up his gown, he

showed the sultan that he was a man only from his head to the

girdle, and that the other half of his body was black marble.

Here Scheherazade broke off, and told the sultan that day

appeared.

Schahriar was so much charmed with the story, and became so much

in love with Scheherazade, that he resolved to let her live a

month. He got up, however, as usual, without acquainting her with

his resolution.

The Twenty-second Night.

Dinarzade was so impatient to hear out the story, that she called

her sister next morning sooner than usual, and says to her,

Sister, pray continue the wonderful story you began, but could

not make an end of yesterday morning. I agree to it, replied the

sultaness; hearken then.

You may easily imagine, continues she, that the sultan was

strangely surprised when he saw the deplorable condition of the

young man. That which you show me, says he, as it fills me with

horror, whets my curiosity so, that I am impatient to hear your

history, which no doubt is very strange, and I am persuaded that

the pond and the fishes make some part of it; therefore I conjure

you to tell it me. You will find some comfort in it, since it is

certain that unfortunate people find some sort of ease in telling

their misfortunes. I will not refuse you that satisfaction,

replies the young man, though I cannot do it without renewing my

grief. But I give you notice beforehand, to prepare your ears,

your mind, and even your eyes, for things that surpass all that

the most extraordinary imagination can conceive.

THE HISTORY OF THE YOUNG KING OF THE BLACK

ISLES.

You must know, my lord, continued he, that my father, who was

called Mahmoud, was king of this country. This is the kingdom of

the Black Isles, which takes its name from the four little

neighbouring mountains; for those mountains were formerly isles:

The capital where the king my father had his residence, was where

that pond you now see is. The sequel of my history will inform

you of all those changes.

The king my father died when he was seventy years of age: I had

no sooner succeeded him, but I married; and the lady I chose to

share the royal dignity with me was my cousin. I had all the

reason imaginable to be satisfied in her love to me; and, for my

part, I had so much tenderness for her, that nothing was

comparable to the good understanding betwixt us, which lasted

five years, at the end of which time I perceived the queen my

cousin had no more delight in me.

One day, while she was at bath, I found myself sleepy after

dinner, and lay down upon a sofa; two of her ladies, who were

then in my chamber, came and sat down, one at my head, and the

other at my feet, with fans in their hands to moderate the heat,

and to hinder the flies from troubling me in my sleep. They

thought I was fast, and spoke very low; but I only shut my eyes,

and heard every word they said.

One of them says to the other, Is not the queen much in the wrong

not to love such an amiable prince as this? Ay, certainly,

replies the other; for my part I do not understand it, and I know

not how she goes out every night, and leaves him alone: is it

possible that he does not perceive it? Alas! says the first, how

would you have him to perceive it? She mixes every evening in his

drink the juice of a certain herb, which makes him sleep so sound

all night, that she has time to go where she pleases, and as day

begins to appear, the comes and lies down by him again, and wakes

him by the smell of something she puts under his nose.

You may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this

discourse, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet, whatever

emotions it made within me, I had command enough over myself to

dissemble it, and feigned myself to awake, without having heard

one word of it.

The queen returned from the bath; we supped together, and, before

we went to bed, she presented me with a cup of water such as I

was accustomed to drink; but, instead of putting it to my mouth,

I went to a window that stood open, and threw out the water so

privately that she did not perceive it, and put the cup again

into her hands, to persuade her I had drunk it.

We went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was

asleep, though I was not, she got up with so little precaution,

that she said, so loud as I could hear distinctly, Sleep, and may

you never awake again. She dressed herself speedily, and went out

of the chamber. As Scheherazade spoke these words, she saw day

appear, and stopped.

Dinarzade had heard, her sister with a great deal of pleasure;

and Shahriar thought the history of the king of the Black Isles

so worthy of his curiosity, that he rose up full of impatience

for the rest of it.

The Twenty-third Night.

An hour before day, Dinarzade, being awake, failed not to call

upon the sultaness, and said, Pray, dear sister, go on with the

history of the young king of the Black Islands. Scheherazade,

calling to mind where she left off, resumed ths story thus:

As soon as the queen my wife went out, continues the king of the

Black Islands, I got up, dressed me in haste, took my scimitar,

and followed her so quick that I soon heard the sound of her feet

before me, and then walked softly after her, for fear of being

heard. She passed through several gates, which opened upon her

pronouncing some magical words; and the last she opened was that

of the garden, which she entered: I stopped at the gate, that she

might not perceive me, As she crossed a plot, and looking after

her as far as I could in the night, I perceived that she entered

a little wood, whose walks were guarded by thick palisadoes. I

went thither by another way, and slipping behind the palisadoes

of a long walk, I saw her walking there with a man.

I gave good heed to their discourse, and heard her say thus; I do

not deserve, says the queen to her gallant, to be upbraided by

you for want of diligence; you know very well what hinders me;

but if all the marks of love that I have already given you be not

enough, I am ready to give you greater marks of it: You need but

command me; you know my power. I will, if you desire it, before

sun-rising, change this great city, and this fine palace, into

frightful ruins, which shall be inhabited by nothing but wolves,

owls, and ravens. Would you have me to transport all the stones

of those walls, so solidly built, beyond mount Caucasus, and out

of the bounds of the habitable world? Speak but the word, and all

those places shall be changed.

As the queen finished these words, her gallant and she came to

the end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before

me. I had already drawn my scimitar, and her gallant being next

me, I struck him in the neck, and made him fall to the ground. I

thought I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily without

making myself known to the queen, whom I had a mind to spare,

because she was my kinswoman.

In the mean time, the blow I had given her gallant was mortal,

but she preserved his life by the force of her enchantments, in

such a manner, however, that he could not be said to be either

dead or alive. As I crossed the garden to return to the palace, I

heard the queen cry out lamentably, and, judging by that how much

she was grieved, I was pleased that I had spared her life.

When I returned to her apartment, I went to bed, and being

satisfied with having punished the villain that did me the

injury, I went to sleep; and when I awaked next morning, found

the queen lying by me. Scheherazade was obliged to stop here,

because she saw day.

O Heaven! sister, says Dinarzade, how it troubles me that you can

say no more! Sister, replies the sultaness, you ought to have

awaked me sooner; it is your fault. I will make amends next

night, replies Dinarzade; for I doubt not but the sultan will be

as willing to hear out the story as I am; and I hope he will be

so good as to let you live one day more.

The Twenty-fourth Night.

Dinarzade was actually as good as her word; she called the

sultaness very early, saying, Dear sister, if you be not asleep,

pray make an end of the agreeable history of the king of the

Black Isles; I am ready to die with impatience to know how he

came to be changed into marble. You shall hear it, replies

Scheherazade, if the sultan will give me leave.

I found the queen lying by me, then, says the king of the Black

Islands; I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I got up

without making any noise, and went to my closet, where I made an

end of dressing myself. I afterwards went and held my council,

and, at my return, the queen was clad in mourning, her hair

hanging about her eyes, and part of it pulled off. She presented

herself before me, and said, Sir, I come to beg your majesty not

to be surprised to see me in this condition; three afflicting

pieces of news that I have just now received all at once are the

cause of my heavy grief, of which the tokens you see are but very

faint resemblances. Alas! what is that news, madam, said I? The

death of the queen, my dear mother, said she; that of the king my

father killed in battle; and that of one of my brothers, who is

fallen headlong into it.

I was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide

the true cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected

me to have killed her gallant. Madam, said I, I am so far from

blaming your grief, that I assure you I am willing to bear what

share of it is proper for me. I should very much wonder if you

were insensible of so great a loss. Mourn on, your tears are so

many proofs of your good-nature; but I hope, however, that time

and reason will moderate your grief.

She retired into her apartment, where, giving herself wholly up

to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning and afflicting

herself. At the end of that time, she begged leave of me to build

a burying-place for herself within the bounds of the palace,

where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days. I

agreed to it, and she built a stately palace, with a cupola, that

may be seen here, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it

was finished, she caused her gallant to be brought thither from

the place that she made him to be carried the same night that I

wounded him; she had hindered his dying by the drink she gave

him, and carried to him herself every day after he came to the

Palace of Tears.

Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he

was not only unable to walk, and to help himself, but had also

lost the use of his speech, and gave no sign of life but only by

his looks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see

him, and to say to him all that her foolish passion could inspire

her with, yet every day she made him two long visits; I was very

well informed of all this, but pretended to know nothing of it.

One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears to see how

the princess employed herself, and, going to a place where she

could not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am

afflicted to the highest degree to see you in this condition; I

am as sensible as you are yourself of the tormenting grief you

endure; but, dear soul, I always speak to you, and you do not

answer me. How long will you be silent? speak only one word:

Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are those I spend here in

partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you,

and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you to the empire

of the universe.

At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs

and sobs, I lost all patience; and, discovering myself, came up

to her, and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to

give over this sorrow which dishonours us both; you have too much

forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, says she, if

you have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you

to put no force upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal

grief; it is impossible for time to lessen it.

When I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her

duty, served only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired.

She continued every day to visit her gallant, and for two long

years gave herself up to excessive grief.

I went a second time to the Palace of Tears while she was there;

I hid myself again, and heard her speak thus to her gallant: It

is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you return no

answer to the marks of love I give you by my discourse and

groans. Is it from want of sense, or out of contempt? O tomb!

have you abated that excessive love he had for me? Have you shut

those eyes that showed me so much love, and were all my joy? No,

no, I believe nothing of it. Tell me rather by what miracle you

became intrusted with the rarest treasure that ever was in the

world?

I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these words; for, in

short, this gallant so much doted upon, this adored mortal, was

not such a one as you would imagine him to have been; he was a

black Indian, a native of that country. I say, I was so enraged

at this discourse, that I discovered myself all of a sudden, and

addressing the tomb in my turn, O tomb! cried I, why do you not

swallow up that monster in nature, or rather why do you not

swallow up the gallant and his mistress?

I had scarcely finished these words, when the queen, who sat by

the black, rose up like a fury. Ah, cruel man! says she, thou art

the cause of my grief; do not you think but I know it. I have

dissembled it but too long; it is thy barbarous hand which hath

brought the object of my love to this lamentable condition; and

you are so hard-hearted as to come and insult a despairing lover.

Yes, said I, in a rage, it is I who chastized that monster

according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same

manner; I repent now that I did not do it; thou hast abused my

goodness too long. As I spoke these words, I drew out my

scimitar, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but she,

steadfastly beholding me, said, with a jeering smile, Moderate

thy anger. At the same time she pronounced words I did not

understand, and afterwards added, By virtue of my enchantments, I

command thee immediately to become half marble and half man.

Immediately, my lord, I became such as you see me, already a dead

man among the living, and a living man among the dead. Here

Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.

Upon which Dinarzade says, Dear sister, I am exceedingly

obligated to the sultan, for it is to his goodness I owe the

extraordinary pleasure I have in your stories. My sister, replies

the sultaness, if the sultan will be so good as to suffer me to

live till to-morrow, I shall tell you a thing that will afford as

much satisfaction as any thing you have yet heard. Though

Schahriar had not resolved to defer the death of Scheherazade a

month longer, he could not have ordered her to be put to death

that day.

The Twenty-fifth Night.

Towards the end of the night, Dinarzade cried, Sister, if I do

not trespass too much upon your complaisance, I would pray you to

finish the history of the king of the Black Islands.

Scheherazade, having awaked upon her sister's call, prepared to

give the satisfaction she required, and began thus:

The king, half marble half man, continued his history to the

sultan thus: After this cruel magician, unworthy of the name of a

queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall

by another enchantment, she destroyed my capital, which was very

flourishing and full of people; she abolished the houses, the

public places, and markets, and made a pond and desert field of

it, which you may have seen; the fishes of four colours in the

pond are the four sorts of people, of different religions, that

inhabited the place. The white are the Mussulmen; the red, the

Persians, who worshipped the fire; the blue, the Christians; and

the yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands

that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the

magician, who, to add to my affliction, told me with her own

mouth these effects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge

was not satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the

metamorphosis of my person; she comes every day, and gives me,

over my naked shoulders, an hundred blows with ox pizzles, which

makes me all over blood; and, when she has done so, covers me

with a coarse stuff of goats hair, and throws over it this robe

of brocade that you see, not to do me honour, but to mock me.

At this part of the discourse, the king could not withhold his

tears; and the sultan's heart was so pierced with the relation,

that he could not speak one word to comfort him. A little time

after, the young king, lifting up his ryes to heaven, cried out,

Mighty Creator of all things, I submit myself to your judgments,

and to the decrees of your providence; I endure my calamities

with patience, since it is your will it should be so; but I hope

your infinite goodness will reward me for it.

The sultan, being much moved by the recital of so strange a

story, and animated to avenge this unfortunate prince, says to

him, Tell me whither this perfidious magician retires, and where

her unworthy gallant may be, who is buried before his death? My

lord, replies the prince, her gallant, as I have already told

you, is in the Palace of Tears, in a tomb in form of a dome, and

that palace joins to this castle on the side of the gate. As to

the magician, I cannot precisely tell whither she retires; but

every day at sun-rising she goes to see her gallant, after having

executed her bloody vengeance upon me, as I have told you: and

you see I am not in a condition to defend myself against so great

cruelty. She carries him the drink with which she has hitherto

prevented his dying, and always complains of his never speaking

to her since he was wounded.

Oh, unfortunate prince, says the sultan, you can never enough be

bewailed! Nobody can be more sensibly touched with your condition

than I am; never did such an extraordinary misfortune befal any

man; and those who write your history will have the advantage to

relate a passage that surpasses all that has ever yet been

recorded. There is nothing wanting but one thing, the revenge

which is due to you, and I will omit nothing that can be done to

procure it.

While the sultan discoursed upon this subject with the young

prince, he told him who he was, and for what end he entered the

castle, and thought on a plan of revenge, which he communicated

to him. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for

effecting their design, but deferred the execution of it till the

next day. In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan

took some rest, but the poor young prince passed the night

without sleep as usual, having never slept since he was

enchanted; but he conceived some hopes of being speedily

delivered from his misery.

Next morning the sultan got up before day, and, in order to

execute his design, he hid in a corner his upper garment, that

would have been cumbersome to him, and went to the Palace of

Tears. He found it illuminated with an infinite number of

flambeaux of white wax, and a delicious scent issued from several

boxes of fine gold, of admirable workmanship, all ranged in

excellent order. As soon as he saw the bed where the black lay,

lie drew his scimitar, killed the wretch without resistance,

dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it

into a well. After this he went and lay down in the black's bed,

took his scimitar with him under the counterpane, and lay there

to execute what he had designed.

The magician arrived in a little time; she first went into the

chamber where her husband, the king of the Black Islands, was;

stripped him, and beat him with bull pizzles in a most barbarous

manner. The poor prince filled the palace with his lamentations

to no purpose; and conjured her, in the most affecting manner

that could be, to take pity on him; but the cruel woman would not

give over till she had given him an hundred blows. You had no

compassion on my lover, said she, and you are to expect none from

me. Scheherazade, perceiving day, stopped, and could go no

further.

O heaven! says Dinarzade, sister, this was a barbarous

enchantress indeed. But must we stop here? Will you not tell us

whether she received the chastisement she deserved? My dear

sister, says the sultaness, I desire nothing more than to

acquaint you with it to-morrow; but you know that depends on the

sultan's pleasure. After what Schahriar had heard, he was far

from any design to put Scheherazade to death; on the contrary,

says he to himself, I will not take away her life till she has

finished this surprising story, though it should last for two

months. It shall always be in my power to keep the oath I have

made.

The Twenty-sixth Night.

As soon as Dinarzade thought it was time to call the sultaness,

she says to her, How much should I be obliged to you, dear

sister, if you would tell us what passed in the Palace of Tears.

Schahriar having signified that he was as curious to know it as

Dinarzade, the sultaness resumed the story of the young enchanted

prince as follows:

Sir, after the enchantress had given the king her husband an

hundred blows with bull pizzles, she put on again his covering of

goat hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to

the Palace of Tears, and, as she entered the same, she renewed

her tears and lamentations; then approaching the bed, where she

thought her gallant was, What cruelty, cries she, was it to

disturb the contentment of so tender and passionate a lover as I

am! O thou who reproachest me that I am too inhuman, when I make

thee feel the effects of my resentment! cruel prince! does not

thy barbarity surpass my vengeance? Ah, traitor! in attempting

the life of the object whom I adore, hast thou not robbed me of

mine? Alas! says she, addressing herself to the sultan, while she

thought she spoke to the black, my soul, my life, will you always

be silent? Are you resolved to let me die, without giving me so

much comfort as to tell me that you love me? My soul! speak one

word to me at least, I conjure you.

The sultan, making as if he had awakened out of a deep sleep, and

counterfeiting the language of the blacks, answers the queen with

a grave tone, 'There is no force nor power but in God alone, who

is almighty.' At these words, the enchantress, who did not expect

them, gave a great shout, to signify her excessive joy. My dear

lord, says she, do not I deceive myself? is it certain that I

hear you, and that you speak to me? Unhappy wretch, said the

sultan, art thou worthy that I should answer thy discourse? Alas!

replies the queen, why do you reproach me thus? The cries,

replied he, the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou

treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, hinder

me to sleep night and day. I should have been cured long ago, and

have recovered the use of my speech, hadst thou disenchanted him.

This is the cause of my silence, which you complain of. Very

well, says the enchantress, to pacify you, I am ready to do what

you will command me; would you that I restore him as he was? Yes,

replies the sultan, make haste to set him at liberty, that I be

no more disturbed with his cries.

The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she

took a cup of water, and pronounced words over it, which caused

it to boil as if it had been on the fire. She went afterwards to

the hall to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon

him, saying, 'If the Creator of all things did form thee so as

thou art at present, or if he be angry with thee, do not change;

but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my

enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou wast

before.' She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince,

finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up freely

with all imaginable joy, and returned thanks to God. The

enchantress then said to him, Get thee gone from this castle, and

never return here on pain of death. The young king, yielding to

necessity, went away from the enchantress without replying a

word, and retired to a remote place, where he immediately

expected the success of the design which the sultan had begun so

happily. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to the Palace of

Tears, and, supposing that she still spoke to the black, says,

Dear lover, I have done what you ordered; let nothing now hinder

you to give me that satisfaction of which I have been deprived so

long.

The sultan continued to counterfeit the language of the blacks.

That which you have just now done, said he, signifies nothing to

my cure; you have only eased me of part of my disease; you must

cut it up by the roots. My lovely black, replies she, what do you

mean by the roots? Unfortunate woman, replies the sultan, do you

not understand that I mean the town and its inhabitants, and the

four islands, which thou hast destroyed by thy enchantments?

The fishes, every night at midnight, raise their heads out of the

pond, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true

cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things as

they were, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou

shalt help me to rise.

The enchantress, filled with hopes from these words, cried out in

a transport of joy, My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored

to your health; for I will immediately do what you command me.

Accordingly she went that moment, and when she came to the brink

of the pond, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling

it--Here Scheherazade saw day, and stopped.

Dinarzade says to the sultaness, Sister, I am much rejoiced to

hear that the young king of the Black Islands was disenchanted,

and I already consider the town and the inhabitants as restored

to their former state; but I long to know what will become of the

enchantress. Have a little patience, replies the sultaness, and

you shall have the satisfaction you desire to-morrow, if the

sultan, my lord, will consent to it. Schahriar, having resolved

on it already, as was said before, rose up, and went about his

business.

The Twenty-seventh Night.

At the usual hour Dinarzade called upon the sultaness thus: Dear

sister, pray tell us what was the fate of the magician queen, as

you promised us; upon which Scheherazade went on thus: The

enchantress had no sooner sprinkled the water, and pronounced

some words over the fishes and the pond, than the city was

restored that very minute. The fishes became men, women, and

children; Mahometans, Christians, Persians, or Jews, freemen or

slaves, ns they were before; every one having recovered their

natural form. The houses and shops were immediately filled with

their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the

enchantment. The sultan's numerous retinue, who found themselves

encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see

themselves, in an instant, in the middle of a large, fine, and

well-peopled city.

To return to the enchantress: As soon as she had made this

wonderful change, she returned with all diligence to the Palace

of Tears, that she might reap the fruits of it. My dear lord,

cries she, as she entered, I come to rejoice with you for the

return of your health; I have done all that you required of me;

then pray rise, and give me your hand. Come near, says the

sultan, still counterfeiting the language of the blacks. She did

so. You are not near enough, replies he; come nearer. She obeyed.

Then he rose up, and seized her by the arm so suddenly, that she

had not time to know who it was, and with a blow of his scimitar

cut her in two, so that the one half fell one way, and the other

another. This being done, he left the carcase upon the place,

and, going out of the Palace of Tears, he went to seek the young

king of the Black Isles, who waited for him with a great deal of

impatience; and when he found him, Prince, says he, embracing

him, rejoice, you have nothing to fear now; your cruel enemy is

dead.

The young prince returned thanks to the sultan in such a manner

as showed that he was thoroughly sensible of the kindness that he

had done him, and, in acknowledgment, wished him a long life and

all happiness. You may henceforward, says the sultan, dwell

peaceably in your capital, unless you will go to mine, which is

so near, where you shall be very welcome, and have as much honour

and respect as if you were at home. Potent monarch, to whom I am

so much indebted, replies the king, you think then that you are

very near your capital. Yes, says the sultan, I know it, it is

not above four or five hours journey. It will take you a whole

years journey, says the prince; I do believe, indeed, that you

came hither from your capital in the time you spoke of, because

mine was enchanted; but, since the enchantment is taken off,

things are changed: However, this shall not hinder me to follow

you, were it to the utmost corner of the earth. You are my

deliverer, and that I may give you proofs of my acknowledging

this during my whole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to

leave my kingdom without regret.

The sultan was exceedingly surprised to understand that he was so

far from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be.

But the young king of the Black Islands convinced him so plainly,

that he could no more doubt of it. Then the sultan replied, it is

no matter; the trouble that I shall have to return to my own

country is sufficiently recompensed by the satisfaction I have

had to oblige you, and by acquiring you for a son; for since you

will do me the honour to attend me, and that I have no child, I

look upon you as one; and from this moment I appoint you my heir

and successor.

This discourse between the sultan and the king of the Black

Islands concluded with the most affectionate embraces; after

which the young prince was wholly taken up in making preparations

for his journey, which were finished in three weeks time, to the

regret of his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his

hands one of his nearest kindred for king.

At last the sultan and the young prince began their journey with

an hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the treasury

of the young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen on

horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed. They had a very

happy journey; and when the sultan, who had sent courtiers to

give advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had

occasioned it, came near his capital, the principal officers he

had left there came to receive him, and to assure him that his

long absence had occasioned no alteration in his empire. The

inhabitants also came out in great crowds, receiving him with,

mighty acclamations, and made public rejoicings for several days,

Next day after his arrival, the sultan gave all his courtiers a

very ample account of all things which, contrary to his

expectation, had detained him so long. He acquainted them with

his having adopted the king of the four Black Islands, who was

willing to leave a great kingdom to accompany and live with him;

and in short, as an acknowledgment of their loyalty, he rewarded

each of them according to their rank.

As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the

deliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful

estate, which made him and his family happy the rest of their

days.

Here Scheherazade made an end of the story of the fisherman and

the genie. Dinarzade signified that she had taken a great deal of

pleasure in it; and Schahriar having said the same thing, the

sultaness told that she knew another which was much finer; and if

the sultan would give her leave, she would tell it them next

morning, for day began to appear. Schahriar, bethinking himself

that he had granted the sultaness a month's reprieve, and being

curious, moreover, to know if this new story would be as

agreeable as she promised, got up with a design to hear it next

morning.

[Advertisement. The readers of the Tales were tired, in the

former editions, with the interruption Dinarzade gave them: This

defect is now remedied; and they will meet with no more

interruptions at the end of every night. It is sufficient to know

the design of the Arabian author who first made this collection;

and for this purpose we retained his method in the preceeding

nights.

There are of these Arabian Tales where neither Scheherazade,

Sultan Schahriar, Dinarzade, or any distinction by nights, is

mentioned; which shows that all the Arabians have not approved

the method which this author has used, and that a great number of

them have been fatigued with these repetitions. This, therefore,

being reformed in the following translation, the reader must be

acquainted that Scheherazade goes on always without being

interrupted.]

THE STORY OF THE THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF

KINGS; AND OF THE FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD.

In the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there was at Bagdad,

the place of their residence, a porter, who, notwithstanding his

mean and laborous business, was a fellow of wit and good-humour.

One morning, as he was at a place where he usually plied, with a

great basket, waiting for employment, a young handsome lady,

covered with a great muslin veil, came to him, and said with a

pleasant air, Hark ye, porter, take your basket, and follow me.

The porter, charmed with those few words pronounced in so

agreeable a manner, took his basket immediately, set it on his

head, and followed the lady, saying, "O happy day, a day of good

luck!"

The lady stopped presently before a gate that was shut, and

knocked: a Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened

the gate, and she put money into his hand, without speaking one

word; but the Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and

in a little time after brought a large jug of excellent wine.

Take this jug, says the lady to the porter, and put it in your

basket. This being done, she commanded him to follow her; and as

she went on, the porter says still, "O happy day! this is a day

of agreeable surprise and joy!"

The lady stopped at a fruit-shop, where she bought several sorts

of apples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges,

myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamine, and some other sorts of

flowers and plants that smell well; she bid the porter put them

all into his basket, and follow her. As she went by a butcher's

stall, she made him weigh her twenty-five pounds of his best

meat, which she ordered the porter to put also in his basket.

At another shop, she took capers, cucumbers, and other herbs

preserved in vinegar; at another she bought pistachios, walnuts,

small nuts, almonds, kernels of pine-apples, and other fruits;

and of another she bought all sorts of confections. When the

porter had put all these things into his basket, and perceiving,

that it grew full, My good lady, says he, you ought to have given

me notice that you had so much provision to carry, and then I

would have got a horse, or rather a camel, to have carried them;

for if you buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to carry

it. The lady laughed at the fellow's pleasant humour, and ordered

him still to follow her.

Then she went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all

manner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and

a great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices; this

quite filled the porter's basket, and she ordered him to follow

her. They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose

front was adorned with fine columns, and which had a gate of

ivory: there they stopped, and the lady knocked softly.

While the young lady and the porter staid for the opening of the

gate, the porter had a thousand thoughts: he wondered that such a

line lady should come abroad to buy provisions; he concluded she

could not be a slave, her air being too noble for that, and

therefore he thought she must needs be a woman of quality. Just

as he was about to ask her some questions upon that head, another

lady came to open the gate, and appeared so beautiful to him,

that he was perfectly surprised, or rather so much struck with

her charms, that he was like to let the basket fall, for he had

never seen any beauty that came near her.

The lady, who brought the porter with her, perceiving his

disorder, and the occasion of it, diverted herself with it, and

took so much pleasure to examine his looks, that she forgot the

gate was opened. Upon this, the beautiful lady says to her, Pray

sister, come in, what do you stay for? Do you not see this poor

man so heavy loaded, that he is scarcely able to stand under it?

When she entered with the porter, the lady who opened the gate

shut it, and all three, after having gone through a very fine

porch, came into a very spacious court encompassed with an open

gallery, which had a communication with several apartments on a

floor, and was extremely magnificent. There was at the further

end of the court a sofa richly adorned, with a throne of amber in

the middle of it, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched

with diamonds and pearls of extraordinary size, and covered with

satin embroidered with Indian gold, of admirable workmanship. In

the middle of the court there was a great fountain faced with

white marble, and full of clear water, which fell into it

abundantly out of the mouth of a lion of brass.

The porter, though very heavily loaded, could not but admire the

magnificence of the house, and the excellent order that every

thing was placed in; but that which particularly captivated his

attention was a third lady, who seemed to be a greater beauty

than the second, and was set upon the throne just now mentioned:

she came down from it as soon as she saw the two former ladies,

and advanced towards them: He judged, by the respect which the

others showed her, that she was the chief, in which he was not

mistaken. This lady was called Zobeide, she who opened the gate

was called Safie, and Amine was the name of her who went out to

buy the provisions.

Zobeide says to the two ladies, when she came to them, Sisters,

do not you see that this honest man is like to sink under his

burden? why do not you ease him of it? Then Amine and Safie took

the basket, the one before and the other behind; Zobeide also

lent her hand, mid all three set it on the ground, then emptied

it; and when they had done, the beautiful Amine took out money,

and paid the porter liberally.

The porter, very well satisfied with the money he had received,

was to have taken up his basket and be gone; but he could not

tell how to think on it. Do what he could, he found himself

stopped by the pleasure of seeing three such beauties, who

appeared to him equally charming; for Amine, having now laid

aside her veil, was as handsome as either of them. That which

surprised him most was, that he saw never a man about the house;

yet most of the provisions he brought in, as dry fruits, and

several sorts of cakes and confections, were fit chiefly for

those who could drink and make merry.

Zobeide thought at first that the porter staid only to take his

breath; but perceiving that he staid too long, What do you wait

for, says she, are you not well enough paid? And turning to

Amine, says, Sister, give him something more, that he may depart

satisfied. Madam, replies the porter, it is not that which stays

me. I am over and above paid; I am sensible that I am unmannerly

to stay longer than I ought, but, I hope you will be so good as

to pardon me, if I tell you that I am astonished to see that

there is no man with three ladies of such extraordinary beauty;

and you know that a company of women without men is as melancholy

a thing as a company of men without women. To this he added

several very pleasing things to prove what he said, and did not

forget the Bagdad proverb, 'That one is never well at a table,

unless there be four in company. And so concluded, that as there

were but three, they had need of a fourth.'

The ladies fell a laughing at the porter's discourse, after which

Zobeide says to him, very gravely, Friend, you are a little too

bold; and though you do not deserve that I should enter into

particulars with you, yet I am willing to tell you we are three

sisters, who do our business so secretly that nobody knows any

thing of it. We have too great reason to be cautious of

acquainting indiscreet persons with it; and a good author that we

have read, says, 'Keep your secret, and do not reveal it to any

body.' He that reveals it is no longer master of it. If your own

breast cannot keep your secret, how do you think that another

person will keep it?

My ladies, replies the porter, by your very air I judged at first

you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I conceive that I am

not mistaken; though fortune has not given me wealth enough to

raise me above my mean profession, yet I have not failed to

cultivate my mind as much as I could by reading books of science

and history: And allow me, if you please, to tell you, that I

have also read in another author a maxim which I have always

happily practised: 'We do not conceal our secrets, says he, but

from such persons as are known to all the world to want

discretion, and would abuse the confidence we put in them; but we

make no scruple to discover them to prudent persons, because we

know they can keep them.' A secret with me is as sure as if it

were in a closet whose key is lost, and the door sealed up.

Zobeide, perceiving that the porter did not want sense, but

conceiving that he had a mind to have a share in their treat,

replies to him, smiling, You know that we are about to have a

treat, and you know also that we have been at a considerable

expense, and it is not just that you should have a share of it

without contributing towards it. The beautiful Safie seconded her

sister, and says to the porter, Friend, have you never heard that

which is commonly said, "If you bring any thing with you, you

shall be welcome; but if you bring nothing, you must get you gone

with nothing?"

The porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must, in all

probability, have retired in confusion, if Amine had not taken

his part, and said to Zobeide and Safie, My dear sisters, I

conjure you to let him stay with us; I need not tell you that he

will divert us, you see well enough that he is capable of that: I

must needs tell you, that unless he had been very willing, as

well as nimble, and hardy enough to follow me, I could not have

done so much business in so little time; besides, should I repeat

to you all the obliging expressions he made to me by the way, you

would not he surprised at my protecting him.

At these words of Amine, the porter was so much transported with

joy, that he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at the feet of

that charming person, and, raising himself up, says, Most

beautiful lady, you began my good fortune to-day, and now you

complete it by this generous action; I cannot enough testify my

acknowledgment of it. As to what remains, my ladies, says he,

addressing himself to all the three sisters, since you do me so

great honour, do not think that I will abuse it, or look upon

myself as a person who deserves it. No, I shall always look upon

myself as one of your most humble slaves. When he had spoken

these words, he would have returned the money he had received;

but the grave Zobeide ordered him to keep it. That which we have

once given, says she, to reward those who have served us, we

never take again.

Zobeide would not take back the money from the porter, but said,

My friend, in consenting that you stay with us, I must forewarn

you, that it is not only on condition that you keep secret what

we have required of you, but also that you observe exactly the

rules of good manners and civility. In the mean time the charming

Amine put off the apparel she went abroad with, put on her

night-gown, that she might be more easy, and covered the table,

which she furnished with several sorts of meat, and upon a

sideboard she set bottles of wine and cups of gold. Soon after

the ladies took their places, and made the porter sit down by

them, who was overjoyed to see himself at the table with three

such admirable beauties. After they had ate a little, Amine, who

sat next the sideboard, took up a bottle and cup, filled out

wine, and drank first herself, according to the custom of the

Arabians; then she filled the cup to her sisters, who drank in

course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth time to

the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amine's hand, and,

before he drank, sung a song to this purpose: That as the wind

brings along with it the sweet scents of the perfumed places

through which it passes, so the wine he was going to drink,

coming from her fair hands, received a more exquisite taste than

what it had of its own nature. This song pleased the ladies so

much, that each of them sung another in their turn. In short,

they were extraordinary merry all the time of dinner, which

lasted a long while, and nothing was wanting that could make it

agreeable. The day being almost spent, Safie spoke in the name of

the three ladies, and says to the porter, Arise, and be gone; it

is time for you to depart. But the porter, not willing to leave

so good company, cried, Alas! ladies, whither do you command me

to go in the condition I am in? I am quite beside myself by what

I have seen since I came hither, and having also drank above my

ordinary, I shall never find the way home: Allow me this night to

recover myself in any place where you please, for no less time is

necessary for me to come to myself; but, go when I will, I shall

leave the best part of myself behind me.

Amine pleaded a second time for the porter, saying, Sisters, he

is in the right; I am pleased with the request; he having already

diverted us so well; and if you will take my advice, or if you

love me as much as I think you do, let us keep him to pass away

the remaining part of the night. Sister, answered Zobeide, we can

refuse you nothing; and then, turning to the porter, said, We are

willing once more to grant your request; but upon this new

condition, that whatever we do in your presence, relating to

ourselves or any thing else, take heed that you do not once open

your mouth to ask the reason of it; for if you ask questions

about that which does not belong to you, you may come to know

that which will be no way pleasing to you: Beware, therefore, and

be not too curious to dive into the motives of our actions.

Madam, replies the porter, I promise to observe this condition

with such exactness, that you shall have no cause to reproach me

with the breaking of it, and far less to punish my indiscretion;

my tongue shall be immovable on this occasion, and my eye like a

looking-glass, which retains nothing of the object that is set

before it. And to show you, says Zobeide, with a serious

countenance, that what we demand of you is not a new thing among

us, rise up and read what is over our gate in the inside.

The porter went thither, and read these words, written in large

characters of gold: 'He who speaks of things that do not concern

him, shall hear of things that will not please him.' Returning

again to the three sisters, Ladies, says he, I give you my oath

that you will never hear me speak any thing which does not

concern me, or wherein you may have any concern.

This agreement being made, Amine brought in supper, and after the

room was set round with tapers that were mixed with aloes and

ambergris, which gave a most agreeable scent, as well as a

delicate light, she sat down at table with her sisters and the

porter. They began again to eat and drink, to sing and repeat

verses. The ladies took pleasure to inebriate the porter, under

pretext of causing him to drink their healths; and abundance of

witty sentences passed on both sides. In short, as they were all

in the best humour in the world, they heard one knocking at the

gate.

When the ladies heard the knocking, they all three got up to open

the gate; but Safie, to whom this office did particularly belong,

was the nimblest; which her other two sisters perceiving, sat

down till she came back to acquaint them who it could be that had

any business with them so late. Safie returning, said, Sisters,

we have here a very fine opportunity to pass a good part of the

night with much satisfaction, and if you be of the same mind with

me, we shall not let it slip. There are three calenders at our

gate, at least they appear to be such by their habit; but that

which you will most wonder at is, they are all three blind of the

right eye, have their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved, and,

as they say, are but just come to Bagdad, where they never were

before; and it being night, and not knowing where to find any

lodging, they happened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray

us, for the love of Heaven, to have compassion on them, and

receive them into the house: They care not what place we put them

in; provided they may be under shelter, they would be satisfied

with a stable. They are young and handsome enough, and seem also

to be men of good sense; but I cannot, without laughing, think of

their pleasant and uniform figure. Here Safie fell a-laughing so

heartily, that it put the two sisters and the porter into the

same mood. My dear sisters, says she, are you content that they

come in? it is impossible but, with such persons as I have

already described them to be, we shall finish the day better than

we began it; they will afford us diversion enough, and put us to

no charge, because they desire shelter only for this night, and

resolve to leave us as soon as day appears.

Zobeide and Amine made some difficulty to grant Safie's request,

for reasons they knew well enough; but she having so great a

desire to obtain this favour, they could not refuse. Go then,

says Zobeide, and bring them in, but do not forget to acquaint

them that they must not speak of any thing which does not concern

them, and cause them to read what is written over the gate. Safie

ran out with a great deal of joy, and in a little while after

returned with the three calenders in company.

At their entrance they made a profound bow to the ladies. who

rose up to receive them; told them most obligingly that they were

very welcome, that they were glad to have met with an opportunity

to oblige them, and to contribute towards relieving them from the

fatigue of their journey, and at last invited them to sit down

with them.

The magnificence of the place, and the civility of the ladies,

made the calenders to conceive a mighty idea of their fine

land-ladies: But, before they sat down, having by chance cast

their eye upon the porter, whom they saw clad almost like one of

those other calenders with whom they are in controversy about

several points of discipline, because they neither shave their

beards nor eye-brows, one of them said, Look here, I believe we

have got one of our revolted Arabian brethren.

The porter, though half asleep, and having his head pretty warm

with wine, was affronted at these words; and, with a fierce look,

without stirring from his place, answered, Sit you down, and do

not meddle with what does not concern you. Have you not read the

inscription over the gate? Do not pretend to make people live

after your fashion, but follow ours.

Honest man, says the calender, do not put yourself into a

passion; we should be very sorry to give you the least occasion;

but, on the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands. Upon

which, to avoid all quarrels, the ladies interposed, and pacified

them. When the calenders were set at table, the ladies served

them with meat; and Safie, being most pleased with them, did not

let them want for drink.

After the calenders had ate and drunk liberally, they signified

to the ladies that they had a great desire to entertain them with

a concert of music, if they had any instruments in the house, and

would cause them to be brought them. They willingly accepted the

proffer, and fair Safie, going to fetch them, returned again in a

moment, and presented them with a flute of her own country

fashion, another of the Persian sort, and a tabor. Each man took

the instrument he liked, and all the three together began to play

a tune. The ladies, who knew the words of a merry song that

suited that air, joined the concert with their voices; but the

words of the song made them now and then stop, and fall into

excessive laughter.

At the height of this diversion, and when the company was in the

midst of their jollity, somebody knocks at the gate; Safie left

off singing, and went to see who it was. But, sir, says

Scheherazade to the sultan, it is fit your majesty should know

why this knocking happened so late at the ladies' house, and the

reason was this: The caliph Haroun Alraschid was accustomed to

walk abroad in disguise very often by night, that he might see

with his own eyes if every thing was quiet in the city, and that

no disorders were committed in it.

This night the caliph went out pretty early on his rambles,

accompanied with Giafar his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief

of the eunuchs of his palace, all disguised in merchants' habits;

and passing through the street where the three ladies dwelt, he

heard the sound of the music, and great fits of laughter; upon

which he commanded the vizier to knock, because he would go in to

know the reason of that jollity. The vizier told him in vain that

it was some women a merry-making; that, without question, their

heads were warm with wine; and that it would not be proper he

should expose himself to be affronted by them; besides, it was

not yet an unlawful hour, and therefore he ought not to disturb

them in their mirth. No matter, said the caliph, I command you to

knock. So it was that the grand vizier Giafar knocked at the

ladies' gate by the caliph's order, because he himself would not

be known. Safie opened the gate, and the vizier perceived, by the

light that she held in her hand, that she was an incomparable

beauty. The vizier acted his part very well, and, with a very low

bow and respectful behaviour, said, Madam, we are three merchants

of Moussol, who arrived about ten days ago with rich merchandise,

which we have in a warehouse at a khan, or inn, where we have

also our lodging. We happened to-day to be with a merchant of

this city, who invited us to a treat at his house, where we had a

splendid entertainment; and the wine having put us in humour, he

sent for a company of dancers; night being come on, and the music

and dancers making a great noise, the watch came by in the mean

time, caused the gate to be opened, and some of the company to be

taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape by getting over a

wall. Now, says the vizier, being strangers, and somewhat

overcome with wine, we were afraid of meeting another, or perhaps

the same watch, before we got home to our khan, which lies a good

way from hence. Besides, when we come there, the gates will be

shut, and not opened till morning; wherefore, madam, hearing, as

we passed by this way, the sound of music, we supposed you were

not yet going to rest, and made bold to knock at your gate, to

beg the favour of lodging ourselves in the house till morning;

and if you think us worthy of your good company, we will

endeavour to contribute to your diversion what lies in our power,

to make some amends for the interruption we have given you; if

not, we only beg the favour of staying this night under your

porch.

While Giafar held this discourse, fair Safie had time to observe

the vizier and his two companions, who were said to be merchants

like himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the

house; but, if they would have a minute's patience, she would

return with an answer.

Safie acquainted her sisters with the matter, who considered for

some time what to conclude upon; but, being naturally of a good

disposition, and having granted the same favour to the three

calenders, they at last consented to let them in.

The caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being

introduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies

and the calenders; the ladies returned them the like civilities,

supposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, says to

them, with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to

her, You are welcome; but, before I proceed further, I hope you

will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you. Alas! said

the vizier, what favour? We can refuse nothing to such fair

ladies. Zobeide replied, It is, that you would only have eyes,

but no tongues; that you put no questions to us about the reason

of any thing you may happen to see; and not to speak of any thing

that does not concern you, lest you come to hear of things that

will by no means please you. Madam, replied the vizier, you shall

be obeyed. We are not censorious, nor impertinently curious; it

is enough for us to take notice of that which concerns us,

without meddling with that which does not belong to us. Upon this

they all sat down, and the company being united, they drank to

the health of the new comers.

While Giafar entertained the ladies in discourse, the caliph

could not forbear to admire their extraordinary beauty, graceful

behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other hand,

nothing was more surprising to him than the calenders being all

three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have been informed

of this singularity; but the conditions so lately imposed upon

himself and his companions would not allow him to speak. This,

with the richness of the furniture, the exact order of every

thing, and neatness of the house, made him think it was some

enchanted palace.

Their entertainment happening to be upon divertisements, and

different ways of making merry, the calenders rose and danced

after their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies

had conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph

and his companions.

When the three calenders had made an end of their dance, Zobeide

arose, and, taking Amine by the hand, said, Pray, sister, rise

up, for the company will not take it ill if we use our freedom;

and their presence need not hinder our performance of what we

were wont to do. Amine, by understanding her sister's meaning,

rose up from her seat, carried away the dishes, the table, the

flasks, and cups, together with the instruments which the

calenders had played upon.

Safie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in

its place, snuffed the candies, and put fresh aloes and ambergris

to them, and then prayed the three calenders to sit down upon the

sofa on one side, and the caliph, with his companions, on the

other. As to the porter, she savs to him, Get up, and prepare

yourself to serve in what we are going to be about; a man like

you, who is one of the family, ought not to be idle. The porter,

being somewhat recovered from his wine, gets up immediately, and,

having tied the sleeve of his gown to his belt, answers, Here am

I, ready to obey your commands in any thing. That is very well,

replied Safie; stay till you are spoken to; you shall not be idle

very long. A little time after, Amine came in with a chair, which

she placed in the middle of the room; and so went to a closet,

which having opened, she beckoned to the porter, and says to him,

Come hither and help me; which he obeying, entered the closet,

and returned immediately leading two black bitches, with each of

them a collar and chain; they looked as if they had been severely

whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of the

room.

Then Zobeide, rising from her seat between the calenders and the

caliph, marched very gravely towards the porter, Come on, says

she, with a great sigh, let us perform our duty; then tucking up

her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie,

Porter, said she, deliver one of the bitches to my sister Amine,

and come to me with the other.

The porter did as he was commanded; the bitch that he held in his

hand began to cry, and, turning towards Zobeide, held her head up

in a begging posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad

countenance of the bitch, which would have moved pity, nor her

cries that sounded through ail the house, whipped her with the

rod till she was out of breath; and having spent her strength

that she could strike no more, she threw down the rod, and,

taking the chain from the porter, lifted up the bitch by her

paws, and looking upon her with a sad and pitiful countenance,

they both wept; after which Zobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped

the tears from the bitch's eyes, kissed her, returned the chain

to the porter, bid him carry her to the place whence he took her,

and bring her the other. The porter led back the whipped bitch to

the closet, and receiving the other from Amine, presented her to

Zobeide, who, bidding the porter hold her as he had done the

first, took up the rod, and treated her after the same manner;

and when she had wept over her, dried her eyes, and, kissing her,

returned her to the porter; but lovely Amine spared him the

trouble of leading her back into the closet, and did it herself.

The three calenders and the caliph, with his companions, were

extremely surprised at this execution, and could not comprehend

why Zobeide, after having so furiously whipped those two bitches,

that, by the Mussulman religion, are reckoned unclean animals,

should cry with them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them. They

muttered among themselves; and the caliph, being more impatient

than the rest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of

so strange an action, and could not forbear making signs to the

vizier to ask the question; the vizier turned his head another

way; but, being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others

that it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.

Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she

had whipped the two bitches, to recover from the fatigue; and

fair Safie called to her, Dear sister, will you be pleased now to

return to your place, that I may also act my part? Yes, sister,

replies Zobeide, and then went and sat down upon the sofa, having

the caliph, Giafar, and Mesrour, on her right hand, and the three

calenders, with the porter, on her left.

After Zobeide sat down, the whole company was silent for a while;

at last Safie, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room,

spoke to her sister Amine; Dear sister, I conjure you to rise up;

you know well enough what I would say, Amine rose up, and went

into another closet near to that where the bitches were, and

brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly embroidered

with gold and green silk; she came near Safie, and opened the

case, from whence she took a lute, and presented her, and, after

some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play, and,

accompanying it with her voice, she sung a song about the

torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much sweetness

as to charm the caliph and all the company. Having sung with a

great deal of passion and action, she said to lovely Amine, Pray

take it, sister, for I can do no more; my voice fails me; oblige

the company with a tune and song in my room. Very willingly,

replied Amine, who, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat

down in her place.

Amine, after a small trial to see whether the instrument was in

tune, played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but

with so much vehemency, and was so much affected, or rather

transported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed

her as she made an end of it.

Zobeide, willing to testify her satisfaction, said, Sister, you

have done wonders, and we may easily see that you have a feeling

of the grief you have expressed so much to the life. Amine was

prevented from answering this civility, her heart being so

sensibly touched at the same moment, that she was obliged, for

air, to uncover her neck and breast, which did not appear so fair

as might have been expected from such a lady; but, on the

contrary, black and full of scars, which frightened all the

spectators. This, however, gave her no ease, but she fell into a

fit.

While Zobeide and Safie ran to help their sister, one of the

calenders could not forbear to say, We had better have slept in

the streets than have come hither, had we thought to have seen

such spectacles. The caliph, who heard this, came up to him and

the other calenders, and asked them what might be the meaning of

all this? They answered, Sir, we know no more than you do. What,

says the caliph, are you not of the family? nor can you resolve

us concerning the two black bitches and the lady that fainted

away, and has been so basely abused? Sir, said the calenders,

this is the first time that ever we were in the house, having

come in but a few minutes before you.

This increased the caliph's astonishment. It may be, says he,

this other man that is with you may know something of it. One of

the calenders made a sign for the porter to come near, and asked

him whether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped,

and why Amine's bosom was so scarred? Sir, said the porter, I can

swear by Heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as

little as you do. It is true I live in this city, but I never was

in the house till now, and if you are suprised to see me here, I

am as much to find myself in your company; and that which

increases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these

ladies.

The caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, supposed

the porter had been one of the family, and hoped he could inform

them of what they desired to know; but finding he could not, and

resolving to satisfy his curiosity, cost what it would, he says

to the rest, Look ye, we are here seven men, and have but three

women to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to satisfy

us, and, if they refuse by fair means, we are in a condition to

force them to it.

The grand vizier Giafar was against this method, and showed the

caliph what might be the consequence of it; but, without

discovering the prince to the calenders, he addressed him, as if

he had been, a merchant, thus: Sir, consider, I pray you, that

our reputation lies at stake; you know very well upon what

conditions these ladies were ready to receive us, and we also

agreed to them. What will they say of us if we break them? We

shall be still more to blame if any mischief befal us; for it is

not likely that they would demand such a promise of us, if they

did not know themselves in a condition to make us repent the

breaking of it.

Here the vizier took the caliph aside, and whispered to him thus:

Sir, the night will soon be at an end, and if your majesty will

only be pleased to have so much patience, I will take these

ladies to-morrow morning, and bring them before your throne,

where you may be informed of all you desire to know. Though this

advice was very judicious, the caliph rejected it, bid the vizier

hold his tongue, and said he would not stay till then, but would

have satisfaction in the matter presently.

The next business was to know who should carry the message. The

caliph endeavoured to prevail with the calenders to speak first;

but they excused themselves, and at last they agreed that the

porter should be the man. And as they were consulting how to word

this fatal question, Zobeide returned from her sister Amine, who

was recovered of her fit, drew near them, and having overheard

them speaking pretty loud, and with some passion, says,

Gentlemen, what is the subject of your discourse? what are you

disputing about?

The porter answered immediately, Madam, these gentlemen pray you

to let them understand wherefore you wept over your two bitches,

after you whipped them so severely, and how the bosom of the

lady, who lately fainted away, comes to be so full of scars? This

is what I am ordered to ask in their name.

At these words, Zobeide looked with a stern countenance, and,

turning towards the caliph and the rest of the company, Is it

true, gentlemen, says she, that you have given him orders to ask

me this question? All of them, except Giafar, who spoke not a

word, answered, Yes. On which she told them, in a tone which

sufficiently expressed her resentment, Before we granted you the

favour of being received into our house, and to prevent all

occasion of trouble from you, because we are alone, we did it

upon condition that you should not speak of any thing that did

not concern you, lest you might come to hear that which would not

please you; and yet, after having received and entertained you as

well as possibly we could, you make no scruple to break your

promise. It is true that our easy temper has occasioned this, but

that shall not excuse you, for your proceedings are very

unhandsome. As she spoke these words, she gave three hard knocks

with her foot, and, clapping her hands as often together, cried,

Come quick! Upon this a door flew open, and seven strong sturdy

black slaves, with scimitars in their hands, rushed in; every one

seized a man, threw him on the ground, and dragged him into the

middle of the room in order to cut off his head.

We may easily conceive what a fright the caliph was in; he then

repented, but too late, that he had not taken his vizier's

advice. In the mean time this unhappy prince, Giafar, Mesrour,

the porter, and the calenders, were upon the point of losing

their lives by their indiscreet curiosity. But, before they would

strike the fatal blow, one of the slaves says to Zobeide and her

sisters, High, mighty, and adorable mistresses, do you command us

to cut their throats? Stay, says Zobeide, I must examine them

first. The frightened porter interrupted her thus: In the name of

Heaven, do not make me die for another man's crime. I am

innocent, they are to blame. Alas! says he, crying, how

pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind calenders are the

cause of this misfortune; there is no town in the world but goes

to ruin, wherever these inauspicious fellows come. Madam, I beg

you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and consider

that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I, who have

no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your resentment.

Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within

herself at the porters lamentation; but, without answering him,

she spoke a second time to the rest: Answer me, says she, and

tell me who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment

longer. I cannot believe you to be honest men, nor persons of

authority or distinction in your own countries; for, if you were,

you would have been more modest and more respectful to us.

The caliph, who was naturally impatient, was infinitely more so

than the rest, to find his life depend upon the command of a lady

justly incensed; but he began to conceive some hopes when he saw

she would know who they all were; for he imagined she would not

take away his life when once she came to be informed who he was;

therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near

him, to declare speedily who he was; but the vizier, being more

prudent, resolved to save his master's honour, and not to let the

world know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own

weakness; and therefore answered, We have what we deserve. But,

if he would have spoken in obedience to the caliph, Zobeide did

not give him time; for having turned to the calenders, and seeing

them all three blind of one eye, she asked if they were brothers.

One of them answered, No, madam, no otherwise than as we are all

calenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules. Were you

born blind of the right eye? replied she. No, madam, answers he,

I lost my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be

instructive to every body, were it in writing. After this

misfortune, I shaved my beard and eye-brows, and took the habit

of a calender, which I now wear.

Zobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had

the same answer; but he that spoke last added, Madam, to show you

that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some

consideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three

sons of kings; and though we never met together till this

evening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one

another; and I assure you that the kings from whom we derive our

being made some noise in the world.

At this discourse Zobeide assuaged her anger, and said to the

slaves, Give them their liberty a while, but stay here. Those who

tell us their history, and the occasion of their coming, do them

no hurt, let them go where they please, but do not spare those

who refuse to give vis that satisfaction.

Scheherazade demanded leave of the sultan, and having obtained

it, Sir, says she, the three calenders, the caliph, the grand

vizier Giafar, the eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, were all in

the middle of the hall, set upon a foot-carpet, in the presence

of the three ladies, who sat upon a sofa, and the slaves stood

ready to do whatever their mistresses should command.

The porter, understanding that he might rid himself of his danger

by telling his history, spoke first, and said, Madam, you know my

history already, and the occasion of coming hither; so that what

I have to say will be very short. My lady, your sister there,

called me this morning at the place where I plied as a porter to

see if anybody would employ me, that I might get my bread; I

followed her to a vintner's, then to an herb-woman's, then to one

that sold oranges, lemons, and citrons, then to a grocer's, next

to a confectioner's and a druggist's, with my basket upon my

head, as full as I was able to carry it; then I came hither,

where you had the goodness to suffer me to continue till now; a

favour that I shall never forget. This, Madam, is my history.

When the porter had done, Zobeide says to him, Go, march; let us

see you no more here. Madam, replies the porter, I beg you to let

me stay; it would be just, after the rest have had the pleasure

to hear my history, that I should also have the satisfaction to

hear theirs. And having spoken thus, he sat him down at the end

of the sofa, glad to the heart to have escaped the danger that

had frightened him so much. After him, one of the three

calenders, directing his speech to Zobeide, as the principal of

the three ladies, and the person that commanded him to speak,

began his history thus;

THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST CALENDER, A KING'S

SON.

Madam, in order to inform you how I lost my right eye, and why I

was obliged to put myself into a calender's habit, I must tell

you that I am king's son born; the king my father had a brother

that reigned, as he did, over a neighbouring kingdom; and the

prince his son and I were almost of one age.

After I had learned my exercises, and that the king my father

granted me such liberty as suited my dignity, I went regularly

every year to see my uncle, at whose court I diverted myself

during a month or two, and then returned again to my father's.

These several journies gave occasion of contracting a very firm

and particular friendship between the prince my cousin and

myself. The last time I saw him, he received me with greater

demonstrations of tenderness than he had done at any time before;

and resolving one day to give me a treat, he made great

preparations for that purpose. We continued a long time at table,

and after we had both supped very well, Cousin, says he, you will

hardly be able to guess how I have been employed since your last

departure from hence, now about a year past. I have had a great

many men at work to perfect a design I have had in my mind; I

have caused an edifice to be built, which is now finished so well

as one may dwell in it: You will not be displeased if I show'it

you. But first you are to promise me, upon oath, that you will

keep my secret, according to the confidence I repose in you.

The love and familiarity existing between us would not allow me

to refuse him any thing. I very readily took the oath required of

me: Upon which he says to me, Stay here till I return; I will be

with you in a moment: and accordingly he came with a lady in his

hand, of singular beauty, and magnificently apparrelled. He did

not discover who she was, neither did I think it was polite in me

to make inquiry. We sat down again with this lady at table, where

we continued some time entertaining ourselves with discourses

upon indifferent subjects; and now and then a full glass to drink

one another's health. After which the prince said, Cousin, we

must lose no time, therefore pray oblige me to take this lady

along with you, and conduct her to such a place, where you will

see a tomb newly built in the form of a dome; you will easily

know it; the gate is open; go in there together, and tarry till I

come, which will be very speedily.

Being true to my oath, I made no further inquiry, but took the

lady by the hand, and by the directions which the prince my

cousin had given me, I brought her to the place, by the light of

the moon, without losing one step of the way. We were scarcely

got thither, when we saw the prince following after, carrying a

little pitcher with water, a hatchet, and a little bag with

plaister.

The hatchet served him to break down the empty sepulchre in the

middle of the tomb; he took away the stones one after another,

and laid them in a corner. When all this was taken away, he

digged up the ground, where I saw a trap-door under the

sepulchre, which he lifted up, and underneath perceived the head

of a staircase leading into a vault. Then my cousin, speaking to

the lady, said, Madam, it is by this way that we are to go to the

place I told you of. Upon which the lady drew nigh and went down,

and the prince began to follow after, but, turning first to me,

said, My dear cousin, I am infinitely obliged to you for the

trouble you have been at; I thank you: Adieu. I cried, Dear

cousin, what is the meaning of this? Be content, replied he; you

may return back the same way you came.

Madam, said the calender to Zobeide, I could get nothing further

from him, but was obliged to take leave of him; as I returned to

my uncle's palace, the vapours of the wine got up into my head;

however, I got to my apartment, and went to bed. Next morning,

when I awaked, I began to reflect upon what befel me the night

before, and, after recollecting all the circumstances of such a

singular adventure, I fancied it was nothing but a dream. Being

full of these thoughts, I sent to see if the prince my cousin was

ready to receive a visit from me; but when they brought back word

that he did not lie in his own lodgings that night, they knew not

what was become of him, and were in much trouble about it, I

conceived that the strange event of the tomb was but too true. I

was sensibly afflicted at it, and, stealing away privately from

my people, I went to the public burying-place, where there was a

vast number of tombs like that which I had seen. I spent the day

in viewing them one after another, but could not find that I

sought for; and thus I spent four days successively in vain.

You must know all this while the king my uncle was absent, and

had been a-hunting for several days. I grew weary of staying for

him, and having prayed his ministers to make my apology to him at

his return, I left his palace, and set towards my father's court,

from which I had never been so long absent before. I left the

ministers of the king my uncle in great trouble to think what had

become of the prince my cousin; but, because of the oath I had

made to keep his secret, I durst not tell them any thing of what

I had seen or knew, in order to make them easy.

I arrived at my father's capital, the usual place of his

residence, where, contrary to custom, I found a great guard at

the gate of the palace, who surrounded me as I entered. I asked

the reason, and the commanding officer replied, Prince, the army

proclaimed the grand vizier king instead of your father, who is

dead; and I take you prisoner in the name of the new king. At

these words the guards laid hold of me, and carried me before the

tyrant. I leave you to judge, madam, how much I was surprised and

grieved.

The rebel vizier had entertained a mortal hatred against me for a

long time upon this occasion: When,I was a stripling, I loved to

shoot with a cross-bow; and being one day upon the terrace of the

palace with my bow, a bird happened to come by; I shot, but

missed him, and the ball by misfortune hit the vizier, who was

taking the air upon the terrace of his own house, and put out one

of his eyes. As soon as I understood it, I not only sent to make

my excuse to him, but did it in person; yet he always resented

it, and, as opportunity offered, made me sensible of it. But now,

madam, that he had me in his power, he expressed his resentment

in a very barbarous manner; for he came to me like a madman as

soon as ever he saw me, and, thrusting his finger into my right

eye, pulled it out himself; and so, madam, I became blind of one

eye.

But the usurper's cruelty did not stop here; he ordered me to be

shut up in a box, and commanded the executioner to carry me into

the country to cut off my head, and leave me to be devoured by

the birds of prey. The hangman and another carried me, thus shut

up on horseback, into the country, in order to execute the

usurper's barbarous sentence; but by my prayers and tears I moved

the executioner's compassion. Go, says he, get you speedily out

of the kingdom, and take heed of ever returning to it, otherwise

you will certainly meet with your own ruin and be the cause of

mine. I thanked him for the favour he did me; and as soon as I

was left alone, I comforted myself for the loss of my eye, by

considering that I had very narrowly escaped a much greater

danger.

Being in such a condition, I could not travel far at a time. I

retired to remote places while it was day, and travelled as far

by night as my strength would allow me. At last I arrived in the

dominions of the king my uncle, and came to his capital.

I gave him a long detail of the tragical cause of my return, and

of the sad condition he saw me in. Alas! cried he, was it not

enough for me to have lost my son; but must I have also news of

the death of a brother I loved so dearly, and see you also

reduced to this deplorable condition? He told me how uneasy he

was; that he could hear nothing of his son, notwithstanding all

the diligence and inquiry he could make. At these words, the

unfortunate father burst out into tears, and was so much

affected, that, pitying his grief, it was impossible for me to

keep the secret any longer; so that, notwithstanding the oath I

had made to the prince my cousin, I told the king his father all

that I knew.

His majesty listened to me with some sort of comfort, and when I

had done, Nephew, says he, what you tell me gives me some hope. I

know that my son ordered that tomb to be built, and I can guess

pretty near at the place, and, with the idea you still have of

it, I fancy we shall find it; but since he ordered it to be built

privately, and you took your oath to keep his secret, I am of

opinion that we ought to go in quest of it alone, without saying

any thing.

But he had another reason for keeping the matter secret, which he

did not then tell me, and an important reason it was, as you will

perceive by the sequel of my discourse.