The Merchant and the Genii.
Sir, --There was formerly a merchant, who had a great estate in
lands, goods, and money. He had abundance of deputies, factors, and
slaves. He was obliged from time to time to take journeys, and talk
with his correspondents: and one day, being under a necessity of
going a long journey, about an affair of importance, he took horse,
and put a portmanteau behind him, with some biscuits and dates,
because he had a great desert to pass over, where he could have no
manner of provisions. He arrived, without any accident, at the end
of his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took horse again,
in order to return home.
The fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the heat
of the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth, that he
turned out of the road, to refresh himself under some trees, that he
saw in the country. There he found, at the foot of a great walnut
tree, a fountain of very clear running water; and alighting, tied
his horse to a branch of a tree, and sitting down by the fountain,
took some biscuits and dates out of his portmanteau; and as he ate
his dates, threw the shells about on both sides of him. When he had
done eating, being a good Mussulman, he washed his hands, his face,
and his feet, and said his prayers. He had not made an end, but was
still on his knees, when he saw a genie appear, all white with age,
and of a monstrous bulk; who, advancing towards him with a scimitar
in his hand, spoke to him in a terrible voice thus: Rise up, that I
may kill thee with this scimitar, as you have killed my son; and
accompanied those words with a frightful cry. The merchant, being as
much frightened at the hideous shape of the monster as at those
threatening words, answered him, trembling, Alas, my good lord, of
what crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should take away my
life? I will, replies the genie, kill thee, as thou hast killed my
son. O, heaven! says the merchant, how should I kill your son? I did
not know him, nor ever saw him. Did not you sit down when you came
hither? replies the genie. Did not you take dates out of your
portmanteau, and, as you ate them, did not you throw the shells
about on both sides? I did all that you say, answers the merchant; I
cannot deny it. If it be so, replied the genie, I tell thee that
thou hast killed my son; and the way was thus: when you threw the
nutshells about, my son was passing by, and you threw one of them
into his eye, which killed him, and therefore I must kill thee. Ah!
my lord, pardon me, cried the merchant. No pardon, answers the
genie, no mercy: is it not just to kill him that has killed another?
I agree to it, says the merchant, but certainly I never killed your
son; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did it innocently;
therefore I beg you to pardon me, and suffer me to live. No, no,
says the genie, persisting in his resolution; I must kill thee,
since thou hast killed my son; and then, taking the merchant by the
arm, threw him with his face upon the ground, and lifted up his
scimitar to cut off his head.
The merchant, all in tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his
wife and children, and spoke to the genie in the most moving
expressions that could be uttered. The genie, with his scimitar
still lifted up, had so much patience as to hear the wretch make an
end of his lamentations, but would not relent. All this whining,
says the monster, is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of
blood, that shall not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast
killed my son. Why, replied the merchant, can nothing prevail with
you? Will you absolutely take away the life of a poor innocent? Yes,
replied the genie, I am resolved upon it. As she had spoken these
words, perceiving it was day, and knowing that the sultan rose
betimes in the morning to say his prayers, and hold his council,
Scheherazade held her peace. Lord! sister, says Dinarzade, what a
wonderful story is this! The remainder of it, says Scheherazade, is
more surprising; and you will be of my mind, if the sultan will let
me live this day, and permit me to tell it you the next night.
Schahriar, who had listened to Scheherazade with pleasure, says to
himself, I will stay till to-morrow, for I can at any time put her
to death, when she has made an end of her story. So, having resolved
not to take away Scheherazade’s life that day, he rose, and went
to his prayers, and then called his council.
[Illustration: THE MERCHANT AND GENIUS.]
All this while the grand vizier was terribly uneasy. Instead of
sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans, bewailing the loss
of his daughter, of whom he believed that he himself should be the
executioner. And as, in this melancholy prospect, he was afraid of
seeing the sultan, he was agreeably surprised when he saw the prince
enter the council chamber, without giving him the fatal orders he
expected.
The sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating his
affairs; and when night came, he went to bed with Scheherazade. Next
morning, before day, Dinarzade failed not to address herself to her
sister thus: My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you, till
day-break, which must be in a very little time, to go on with the
story you began last night. The sultan, without staying till
Scheherazade asked him leave, bid her make an end of the story of
the genie and the merchant, for I long to hear the issue of it. Upon
which Scheherazade spoke, and continued the story, as follows: