Dinarzade was punctual this night, as she had been the former, to
awaken her sister, and begged of her, as usual, to tell her a story.
I am going to do it, sister, says Scheherazade: but the sultan
interrupted her, for fear she should begin a new story, and bid her
finish the discourse between the Grecian king and his vizier about
his physician Douban. Sir, says Scheherazade, I will obey you; and
went on with the story, as follows:
When the Grecian king, says the fisherman to the genie, had finished
the story of the parrot; and you, vizier, adds he, because of the
hatred you bear to the physician Douban, who never did you any hurt,
you would have me cut him off; but I will take care of that, for
fear I should repent it, as the husband did the killing of his
parrot.
The mischievous vizier was too much concerned to effect the ruin of
the physician Douban to stop here. Sir, says he, the death of the
parrot was but a trifle, and, I believe, his master did not mourn
for him long; but why should your fear of wronging an innocent man,
hinder your putting this physician to death? Is it not enough to
authorize you to take away his life, that he is accused of a design
against your life? When the business in question is to secure the
life of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and it
is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty. But,
sir, this is not an uncertainty; the physician Douban has certainly
a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes me his enemy;
it is only my zeal, and the concern I have for preserving your
majesty’s life, that makes me give you my advice in a matter of
this importance. If it be false, I deserve to be punished in the
same manner as a vizier was formerly punished. What had the vizier
done, says the Grecian king, to deserve punishment? I will inform
your majesty of that, says the vizier, if you will be pleased to
hear me.
The Story of the Vizier that was punished.
There was a king, says the vizier, who had a son that loved hunting.
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 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
follow him, and so wandered farther.
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 to an Indian king. As I was
taking the air on horseback, in the country, I grew sleepy, fell
from my horse, who is run 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, 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 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 an Ogress, wife to one of those savage demons, called
Ogres, who live in remote places, and make use of a thousand wiles
to surprise and devour passengers; so that the prince being
frightened, mounted his horse as soon as he could.
The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving 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 lifted up
his eyes towards heaven. But, sir, says Scheherazade, I am obliged
to break off, for day appears.
I long, 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.