Towards the end of the following night, Dinarzade failed not to
awake the sultaness. My dear sister, says she, if you be not asleep,
pray tell me one of your fine stories. Then Scheherazade, with the
sultan’s permission, spoke as follows:
Sir, when the old man who led the hind saw the genie lay hold of the
merchant, and about to kill him without mercy, he threw himself at
the feet of the monster, and, kissing them, says to him, Prince of
genies, I most humbly request you to suspend your anger, and do me
the favour to hear me. I will tell you the history of my life, and
of the hind you see; and if you think it more wonderful and
surprising than the adventure of the merchant you are going to kill,
I hope you will pardon the poor unfortunate man the third of his
crime. The genie took some time to consult upon it, out answered at
last, Well, then, I agree to it.
The History of the first Old Man, and the Hind.
I shall begin, then, says the old man; listen to me, I pray you,
with attention. This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more,
my wife: she was only twelve years or age when I married her, so
that I may justly say, she ought as much to regard me as her father,
as her kinsman and husband.
We lived together twenty years without any children; yet her
barrenness did not hinder my having a great deal of complaisance and
friendship for her. The desire of having children only made me buy a
slave, by whom I had a son, who was extremely promising. My wife
being jealous, conceived a hatred for both mother and child, but
concealed it so well, that I did not know it till it was too late.
Mean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was obliged
to undertake a journey. Before I went, I recommended to my wife, of
whom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and prayed her to
take care of them during my absence, which was for a whole year. She
made use of that time to satisfy her hatred; she applied herself to
magic, and when she knew enough of that diabolical art to execute
her horrible contrivance, the wretch carried my son to a desolate
place, where by her enchantments, she changed my son into a calf,
and gave him to my farmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him.
Her fury did not stop at this abominable action, but she likewise
changed the slave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.
At my return, I asked for the mother and child: Your slave, says
she, is dead; and as for your son, I know not what has become of
him. I have not seen him these two months. I was troubled at the
death of the slave, but my son having only disappeared, as she told
me, I was in hopes he would return in a little time. However, eight
months passed, and I heard nothing of him. When the festival of the
great Bairam happened, to celebrate the same, I sent to my farmer
for one of the fattest cows, to sacrifice, and he sent me one
accordingly. The cow which he brought me was my slave, the
unfortunate mother of my son. I tied her, but as I was going to
sacrifice her, she bellowed pitifully, and I could perceive streams
of tears run from her eyes. This seemed to me very extraordinary;
and finding myself, in spite of all I could do, inspired with pity,
I could not find in my heart to give her a blow, but ordered my
farmer to get me another.
My wife, who was present, was enraged at my compassion, and,
opposing herself to an order which disappointed her malice, she
cries out, What are you doing, husband? Sacrifice that cow: your
farmer has not a finer, nor one fitter for that use. Out of
complaisance to my wife, I came again to the cow, and, combating my
compassion, which suspended the sacrifice, was going to give her the
fatal blow, when the victim, redoubling her tears and bellowing,
disarmed me a second time. Then I put the mallet into the farmer’s
hands, and bid him take and sacrifice her himself, for her tears and
bellowing pierced my heart.
The farmer, less compassionate than I, sacrificed her; and when he
flayed her, found her to be nothing but bones, though to us she
seemed very fat. Take her to yourself, says I to the farmer, I quit
her to you; give her in alms, or which way you will; and if you have
a very fat calf, bring it me in her stead. I did not inform myself
what he did with the cow; but, soon after he took her away, he came
with a very fat calf. Though I knew not the calf was my son, yet I
could not forbear being moved at the sight of him. On his part, as
soon as he saw me, he made so great an effort to come to me, that he
broke his cord, threw himself at my feet, with his head against the
ground, as if he meant to excite my compassion, conjuring me not to
be so cruel as to take his life; and did as much as was possible for
him to do, to signify that he was my son.
I was more surprised and affected with this action, than with the
tears of the cow; I felt a tender pity, which made me interest
myself for him, or, rather, nature did its duty. Go, says I to the
farmer, carry home that calf, take great care of him, and bring me
another in his place immediately.
As soon as my wife heard me say so, she immediately cried out, What
do you do, husband? Take my advice, sacrifice no other calf but
that. Wife, says I, I will not sacrifice him; I will spare him, and
pray do not you oppose it. The wicked woman had no regard to my
desire; she hated my son too much to consent that I should save him.
I tied the poor creature, and taking up the fatal knife --Here
Scheherazade stopped, because she perceived daylight.
Then Dinarzade said, Sister, I am enchanted with this story, which
so agreeably calls for my attention. If the sultan will suffer me to
live to-day, answers Scheherazade, what I have to tell to-morrow
will divert you abundantly more. Schahriar, curious to know what
would become of the old man’s son that led the hind, told the
sultaness he would be very glad to hear the end of that story next
night.