As soon as Dinarzade perceived it was time to call the sultaness,
she says, sister, I have been awake a long time, and had a great
mind to awake you, I am so impatient to hear the story of the third
old man. The sultan answered, I can hardly think that the third
story will surpass the two former ones.
Sir, replies the sultaness, the third old man told his story to the
genie: I cannot tell it to you, because it is not come to my
knowledge; but I know that it did so much exceed the two former
stories, in the variety of wonderful adventures, that the genie was
astonished at it, and no sooner heard the end of it, but he said to
the third old man, I remit the other third part of the merchant’s
crime upon the account of your story. He is very much obliged to all
three of you for having delivered him out of this danger, by your
stories, without which he had not now been in the world. And, having
spoke thus, he disappeared to the great contentment of the company.
The merchant failed not to give his three deliverers the thanks he
owed them. They rejoiced to see him out of danger; after which they
bade him adieu, and each of them went on his way. The merchant
returned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his days
with them in peace. But, sir, added Scheherazade, now pleasant
soever these stories may be, that I have told your majesty hitherto,
they do not come near that of the fisherman. Dinarzade, perceiving
that the sultaness demurred, says to her, sister, since there is
still some time remaining, pray tell us the story of the fisherman,
if the sultan is willing. Schahriar agreed to it; and Scheherazade,
resuming her discourse, pursued it in this manner:
The Story of the Fisherman.
Sir --There was a very ancient fisherman, so poor, that he could
scarce earn enough to maintain himself, his wife, and three
children. He went every day to fish betimes in a morning; and
imposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four
times a day. He went one morning by moonlight, and coming to the
sea-side, undressed himself, and cast in his nets. As he drew them
towards the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a
good draught of fish, at which he rejoiced within himself; but in a
moment after perceiving, that, instead of fish, there was nothing in
his nets but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed. Scheherazade
stopped here, because she saw it was day.
Sister, says Dinarzade, I must confess, that the beginning of the
story charms me, and I foresee that the result of it will be very
agreeable. There is nothing more surprising than the story of this
fisherman, replied the sultaness; and you will be convinced of it
next night, if the sultan will be so gracious as to let me live.
--Schahriar being curious to hear the success of such an
extraordinary fishing, would not order Scheherazade to be put to
death that day.