PART V

THE MAGIC HAIRS

No sooner was the gardener gone than the prince took the hairs given

him by the princess and rubbed them together. Immediately a slave

appeared and asked, “What are thy commands, O prince?”

“Bring me a fine horse, a fine suit of clothes, and a set of weapons,”

was the answer.

In another moment the slave brought all that had been commanded, and

assisted the young man to dress and mount his horse. After this the

prince rode all about the garden, trampling upon and destroying the

plants. As he rode he glanced toward the palace and rejoiced to see

that the three princesses were there and that he was recognized by

them. He then gave the horse, clothes, and weapons to the slave and

retired to a corner of the garden.

When the gardener returned—what should he see! The beautiful garden

nearly in ruins, and the bald-headed assistant weeping in a corner. He

began beating him, but the maidens called from a window: “Do not beat

the lad! Verily, a rider from without came and destroyed the plants.

Thy assistant is not to blame.”

After a few days the gardener again went away, and left the boy in

charge of the place. The second time he called for a horse, destroyed

many things which had escaped before, then sat down and awaited the

return of the gardener. The maidens had fully recognized him this time.

They rejoiced that the good prince had returned to the face of the

earth, but, not knowing his plans, they bided his time and said

nothing.

The gardener returned shortly, and was so greatly incensed at what he

saw that he was about to chastise his assistant severely, when the

maidens called commanding him to cease. A third time was the young

prince left alone, and a third time did he despoil the garden—this time

so grievously that not a branch was left. When the gardener returned he

found nothing growing. Taking hold of the youth, he threw him without

the gate.

Now, the prince was desirous of learning about the affairs of the

kingdom. He had found that his brothers had not the courage to

challenge one who appeared and behaved disrespectfully unto their

father, the king. He went therefore to a jeweler and requested to be

taken as an apprentice. The jeweler had no need of an assistant, but as

the lad asked that he be permitted even to carry his coals, he was

accepted.

Now, when the maidens had been brought unto the palace the king

commanded that the first two prepare for their wedding. They, however,

begged to be allowed forty days in which to prepare. When they had

recognized the good prince they hoped for release, and, to assure

themselves that he was upon the earth continually, they asked many

things which none but he would have power to grant. One wanted a golden

shuttle and a golden needle which would make lace without hands. The

second asked for a golden tray, upon which must be a golden hen with

forty golden chickens and all eating golden grains of barley. The third

demanded a golden tray around which a golden rabbit and a golden hare

were chasing each other.

Now, the wicked princes, believing that they had destroyed their

brother, desired that the people might become dissatisfied with their

father’s rule; so they pressed him to fulfill the requests of the

princesses. The king did according to their desire; for he was very sad

at heart and had no wish to live longer. Therefore he summoned all the

jewelers of his kingdom and commanded that they execute the three

orders. The jewelers, after consulting together, begged that they be

granted forty days of grace. This request was granted by the king, who

threatened certain death to all of them if, upon the fortieth day, his

demands were not fulfilled. Thereupon, very much cast down in spirit,

the jewelers were permitted to return to their homes.

The apprentice prince, seeing his master in this state, asked the cause

of his anxiety. The master answered him roughly; but, as the youth

persisted, he replied that the king’s sons had rescued three

princesses, each of whom demanded a special article made of gold,

before the two who were designed for them in marriage would consent to

the nuptials. When asked to describe the articles, and after he had

done so, the apprentice cried: “My master, I thought it had been some

impossible thing that was required of thee. Trouble thyself no longer.

Furnish me with a bag of nuts for food, another of raisins, and with

forty candles. Thou shalt have these curious articles upon the morning

of the fortieth day. Fear not!”

“Since the boy craves nuts and raisins,” said the master to himself, “I

will permit him to have them. For myself, I shall need nothing long.”

The prince shut himself into a room, ate the nuts and raisins, burned

his candles, and enjoyed himself. He was learning much about the

kingdom and his brothers. Upon the fortieth night he rubbed the magic

hairs which the maiden had given him, and commanded the slave, who

appeared, to bring the articles demanded by the three princesses. They

were brought and placed within a carved casket which stood in the room.

At early morning the jeweler appeared. He was pale with fear as he

demanded how the boy had spent his time. “Why dost thou ask? My answer

lies hidden within the casket.”

With trembling hands the master opened the casket, and was so

overpowered at what he saw that he fell upon the apprentice’s neck in a

swoon. When he had revived, he hastened to the palace and spread the

precious creations before the king. Then were the three maidens very

happy, for they knew that the good prince was not only upon the face of

the earth, but that he possessed great power.

When the jeweler returned to the shop he was grieved because the

apprentice requested his freedom, and would not be persuaded to remain.

“Have I not saved thy life and the lives of thy fellow craftsmen? And

wilt thou refuse me freedom?” asked the young man. So the jeweler

permitted him to depart.

Then the prince went directly to the shop of a tailor, and again asked

that he might serve an apprenticeship; and, although the tailor had no

need of help, he refused to be turned away. This he did because he had

heard of another request made by the maidens. They desired to gain more

time and had asked for three robes, which had not been cut with

scissors, nor sewn by needles; and each of which should be brought them

in a filbert shell.

The king felt that he was in the power of some strange evil. At the

urgent request of his sons he summoned the tailors of the kingdom and

gave them the command. Now, the tailors had trembled greatly when they

learned what had been required of the jewelers. They felt assured that

not one of them could fulfill the imperial order; nevertheless, since

they wished to live as long as possible, they asked for forty days in

which to prepare the three robes. “Very well,” replied their sovereign,

“but if my command is not obeyed, upon the forty-first day you all

shall lose your heads.”

When the master of the prince returned, in great dejection, to his

shop, the new apprentice asked the cause of his anxiety. “Do not vex

me!” was the impatient answer. But, as the day wore on, the prince

learned the cause of his master’s hopelessness. “Is that anything to

trouble thee?” asked the youth. “Give to me forty bags of nuts, forty

bags of raisins, and forty candles. Upon the forty-first day thou shalt

have what thou desirest.” The tailor, because he did not like to grieve

a lad who showed so much interest, gave to him all that he had asked.

The prince shut himself up as beforehand, and upon the fortieth night

bade the slave, whom he had summoned with the magic hairs, to bring the

three robes and place them within a brazen casket upon the table. When

morning came the tailor, without experiencing any degree of hope, came

to the door and asked what had been accomplished. The apprentice

desired him to open the casket and behold the fulfillment of his

promise. The tailor was overjoyed, and hastened to the palace;

whereupon the king at once gave order that the wedding festivities

should begin.

A tournament of javelin throwing was arranged to take place upon the

running grounds, in which, upon the first day, the eldest prince was to

show his skill. The whole city turned out to witness the spectacle; and

the grateful tailor said to his apprentice, “Come, let us go together

and see the eldest prince play Zerid.” But the youth objected on

account of his baldness; saying that he feared something might hit him

accidentally and hinder the healing of the sores.

So the tailor left him alone in the shop. The prince then summoned the

slave of the magic hairs and commanded that a tall black horse, a set

of javelins, and a black suit of clothes be brought him. This was done

immediately. The prince cast off his hateful headdress, arrayed himself

in the handsome clothing, mounted his horse, and rode to the place of

tournament, where the eldest son of the king was playing. It was easy

to recognize his brother. Riding directly to him, the newcomer

challenged to single combat, and, with a wonderful throw, so wounded

him in the arm that he fell off his horse. In the confusion which

followed, the victor returned to the shop of the tailor, gave back the

horse, the javelins, and the clothing, sent the slave to his place

under the earth, and sat down to await the coming of his master.

When the tailor appeared he cried: “O, my son! It is well that thou

didst not go with me to-day.” Then he sat down and related all that had

passed. But, during the relation, the prince learned that there was a

great uprising planned against the king, and that the son of the grand

vizier was to murder the two princes and take the throne. This had all

come about through the restlessness of the people, which had been

caused by the long unkindness of the king’s sons.

The next day, when the second son of the king was to rule the

tournament, the tailor again took his departure. His apprentice

instantly summoned the slave of the magic hairs, and ordered a yellow

horse, a suit made from cloth of gold, and a set of gold-mounted

javelins. When these were furnished him he rode to the place of

tournament, and dismounted his second brother by wounding him in the

leg; after which he returned quickly to the shop, resumed his former

appearance, and sat down to await the coming of his master. When the

tailor returned, and related the events of the day, the apprentice

praised Allah that he had not accompanied him.

Now, upon the third day was the son of the grand vizier to rule the

exhibition of skill. So the prince was exceedingly anxious to see his

master depart. When the tailor was once out of sight, a white horse and

a silver-embroidered suit with silver-mounted javelins were ordered

from the slave of the magic hairs. When these arrived the prince made

haste to array himself and to depart, as before, to the running ground.

The grand vizier’s son was challenged, and with rare skill he was run

through the heart and killed.

This time the victor did not disappear, as he had done upon each of the

previous days, but continued to ride about openly, until he was

arrested and dragged before the king. Before his entrance there the

king had given orders that the murderer should have his head stricken

off. As the prince approached the throne he said: “O, most noble and

gracious sovereign! My brothers abandoned me in the well; the son of

the grand vizier plotted against thy most precious life; and wilt thou

now kill me, thy faithful son?”

When the king knew indeed that it was the son whom he had so deeply

mourned, he was overjoyed. Falling upon the neck of the young prince,

he wept and asked: “My son, what dost thou desire? Shall I command the

death of thy two brothers?” But the young man was as noble when victory

crowned him as when the bitterness of defeat had taxed his powers. He

answered: “My father, since I am so happy as to find thee still

unharmed, let us say, Allah be praised! Allah’s will be done! But do

thou, I pray thee, give a palace, far away from thine own, unto each of

my brothers; command that the elder be married to the first princess,

the second to the second princess; then do thou graciously permit me to

marry the youngest, whom I deeply love and through whom it has been

possible for me thus to rescue thee and preserve unto thee thy

kingdom.”

So it all came about as the brave young prince had requested. The two

brothers were given palaces at a distance from that of the king; there

was feasting and rejoicing upon the part of all the people during forty

days; after which the youngest son of the king was married to the most

beautiful princess and lived happily ever afterward.

Here endeth this story, with Salaam! which meaneth peace.

THE STORY OF THE BEAUTIFUL GIRL WHO HAD HER WISH

The teller of tales says that, once upon a time, there lived a woman

whose only child was a daughter, so beautiful that, of all who saw her,

not one had ever beheld her equal. And this daughter not only was fair

to look upon, she was gentle and kind to everyone and very loving and

obedient to her mother. Indeed, there seemed to be nothing wanting to

the happiness of these two.

Her mother had taught the young girl to weave the most delicate lace,

and during some portion of every day she sat in her own room and

carefully wrought out the pattern. Late one afternoon, as she was

engaged thus, a bird flew in at the window. This did not seem strange

to one with whom the birds were so friendly that every day they came to

eat from her hand. But as she looked upon this little visitor, he

seemed unlike those that came to her daily.

Lowering his head three times, he opened his bill and spoke to her. The

words that he said were very terrible: “Gentle maiden,” quoth the bird,

“during forty nights shalt thou keep watch beside a corpse. After that

it shall happen to thee according to thy strongest wish.”

The young girl was so surprised and alarmed that she could not command

her tongue to ask the bird why this must come to her. Before she became

calm the bird had flown.

Now, because the girl loved her mother very deeply, she delayed to

speak of this strange matter. At night she went to bed and slept, and

when morning came, took up her accustomed duties. At the approach of

evening the strange bird came again, spoke as before, and flew away.

Sick at heart, the poor girl ran to her mother and confided all that

had passed. The mother, greatly alarmed, questioned her daughter

closely. “Dost thou fear another visit from the bird, my child?”

“Twice has he come to me. He will surely come once more. Thou knowest

well, my mother, that one who has a second warning surely must receive

a third.”

“Ai, my daughter!” exclaimed the mother. “And at what time will the

bird visit thee?”

“To-morrow, toward evening,” answered the girl.

Accordingly, when the shadows lengthened upon the morrow, the mother

hid herself in a closet at one end of her daughter’s room. At the

expected time, while the girl sat working upon her lace, the same bird

entered, lowered his head three times, and spoke the same words—with

this slight difference, that he addressed the maiden as sultana.

After the words were spoken, the bird turned to the window and was soon

beyond sight.

The poor mother had overheard all. As the two flew to embrace each

other the mother cried: “Ai, my daughter, let us fly! Let us try to

escape from the power of this cruel bird.”

And the girl answered, “Let us fly together, mother, come what will!”

They made haste to gather those goods which were light in weight but

heavy in worth; after which they closed the doors of their home and set

forth, with all speed, upon a journey which they well knew must be

perilous.

They rested but little, one of them always keeping watch. After several

days of travel they came to a magnificent palace. Hastening to its

walls, they sat down in the shadow and considered what they would

better do next. Being weary, they lay down in a hidden spot, and

although the mother was firm in her will to remain awake, a strange

power took hold upon her that she could not resist. Sleep closed her

eyes. She became unconscious.

Upon this the strange bird again made its appearance, and, although it

seemed not larger than an ordinary songster, it possessed such strength

as to lift the sleeping girl. Gently it bore her over the wall and into

a room of the palace, where it laid her upon a beautiful golden divan.

Almost immediately the sleeper opened her eyes, and discovered that she

was separated from her mother and within the palace. She arose and

looked about her. Lying upon a bier in the middle of the room, under a

white, transparent covering, was a corpse.

When her eyes fell upon this the poor girl nearly went out of her

senses for terror, and exclaimed: “Evil is upon me! That which the bird

foretold was, indeed, very truth.”

Then she sought eagerly to find a way out, in order that she might

bring her mother within. The rooms of the palace were very large and

magnificent; but no person could be found in them. And whenever she

entered one of them and hastened to another door, she found herself, as

if by magic, in the one where had been her awakening and beside the

stately bier.

Hour after hour she struggled. Every trial ended with the same

experience. She found herself, again and again, in the lonely room with

only the body upon the bier for company. At last she was exhausted, and

began to understand that escape was impossible—that some mighty power

had torn her from her beloved mother. In the hope that obedience to

fate would make her sentence lighter, she said: “I will bear whatever

is allotted to me. Afterward, if Allah will, it may be for the best.”

Let the girl remain here while we return to the mother.

Morning came, and, the strange influence having spent itself, the woman

awakened. Turning toward the place where she had last seen her beloved

daughter, she reached out her arms for an embrace. But they were empty.

The alarmed woman made haste to seek all about the hiding place, in the

vain hope that the girl had gone to look about them. But no trace of

her child could be found—no footprint in the soft earth, no portion of

her clothing.

When this became real to the seeker, her heart was crushed with fear.

“Alas!” she cried, “in rescuing my beloved one from the bird I have

lost her unto myself!”

Thereupon, with grief so heavy that she was many days in journeying the

distance over which they two had sped so swiftly, she returned to her

own home, went into mourning for the daughter whom she believed dead,

and awaited whatever might be ordered unto herself.

Now let us return to the girl.

During the long nights that followed she slept not, but kept her dreary

watch beside the bier. In some mysterious manner, fresh food appeared

every morning upon a golden salver, and whatever remained from the

previous day was spirited away. Although the girl endeavored to

discover this change, she was unable to do so.

At first, by means of a bit of charred wood which she found upon the

floor, she kept the strictest account of the days as they passed. With

this she made a mark upon the marble for each day. But as they wore by

she forgot to number them. Dreary monotony made her spiritless.

Now, in front of the palace flowed the sea. One window of the room was

directly over that portion of the castle walls which were washed by the

waves. Long before sunrise, one morning, as the maiden sat beside this

window, looking out with heavy eyes, a ship appeared. It came from the

direction of Iram. When it was directly before the palace the girl made

a sign with her hand. The captain lowered a boat which came to the

walls of the palace.

The air was very still, and the voice of the young girl, though not

loud, was clear. “Bring me a beautiful slave girl,” she said, “and I

will give you these ten thousand piasters.”

The boat returned to the ship. Very soon it came back. In it was

another person. The watcher saw that it was a young girl, like herself.

Overjoyed, she let down a rope, made from the silken coverings of the

divan. At the end of this rope she had fastened the money.

When the men had secured the gold they tied the rope about the body of

the slave girl, and with great difficulty she was drawn up far enough

to enable her to climb within. Her young mistress greeted her with

kindness, and, because of her joy, took the string of gold coins from

her own neck and fastened them around the neck of the newcomer. And she

said, “Thanks be to Allah! I have found a companion.”

The slave girl had been cruelly treated by the captain of the ship. But

she did not tell her mistress that she was glad to be rescued.

Now, the fortieth night was completed, though the young girl knew not

that it was so. After she and the slave had both bathed in an inner

chamber, and after they had eaten of the delicate food upon the golden

salver, the mistress said to her slave: “Now, do thou watch here a

little, while I go to walk through the rooms of the palace. After my

return thou canst do likewise.”

Thereupon she went out; and had barely gone when the body upon the bier

returned to life. It was that of a young man, very tall and worthy to

be looked upon. He threw off the covering, and disclosed the

embroidered garments of royalty. He stretched out his hands and opened

his eyes. They fell upon the slave girl. After his long torpor she

seemed beautiful to him. And the gold coins about her neck were not

such as one sees upon a slave.

“Maiden,” he asked, “was it thou who watched beside me through the

forty nights?”

“Yes,” answered the slave; “for forty nights have I watched beside

thee.”

Now, it so chanced that the person who had been lying upon the bier was

a young prince. And before the evil spell was cast upon him by an enemy

of his father, he had made a vow, saying, “Whoso watches by me during

the forty days of my enchantment, her will I marry immediately upon

waking.”

It was because of this vow that he asked the question. And because

within his heart he had felt another presence, he called the slave to

him and asked whether any other beside herself had been there.

The slave was very quick-witted. She was scheming and wicked of heart.

In a moment she knew all that the question might mean to her.

Forgetting the kindness of her young mistress in redeeming her from the

cruel captain and in making of her a beloved companion, rather than a

slave, she quickly made this answer:

“There is my slave girl, whom I bought with much money. Only these gold

pieces about my neck have I saved. She is now in another room.”

Then the prince took her by the hand and said, “Before Allah do I take

thee for my wife.” And he kissed her upon the cheek.

As these words were spoken there came the sound of light footsteps. The

young mistress entered.

“Come, girl!” arrogantly called the slave. “Thy master, my husband,

hath wakened. He calleth for thy service. Hasten to do his bidding!”

The gentle maiden saw that matters were not as they had been when she

began her promenade through the great rooms. But, being obedient of

heart, she said to herself: “This, too, comes from Allah. It must be

borne patiently.”

At the first opportunity she made haste to count the marks upon the

marble which she had made every day with the bit of charcoal. They

numbered forty. Then she felt that there was no hope for her, and

meekly put herself in the place of her own slave, doing every service

that was required of her. The real slave was bitterly cruel, and asked

the most menial offices of this beautiful girl, although upon the full

awakening of the prince the palace had become filled with the usual

number of servants.

A little time later on the prince said to the one whom he had taken for

his wife: “I am going on a long journey. What is thy wish that I bring

thee?”

“Bring me a hundred diamonds and one hundred turquoises,” said the

woman.

Then the prince turned to her whom his wife called slave. “And what

wouldst thou have, my child?” he asked.

“If it be thy gracious pleasure,” came the low answer, “I would beg

thee to bring me a patience stone.”

“A patience stone!” sneered the other. “The prince will never remember

that.”

Then the young girl turned to the slave mistress. “Should he permit

himself to forget this simple request of one who serves you both

faithfully,” was her answer, “may a cloud, black as pitch, form in

front of his ship, so that the way of return cannot be seen. And behind

them may the sky remain clear!”

The prince was not a little surprised at all this. He had taken note of

the perfect manner of the one whom his wife called slave, and had

compared the two. But, without comment, he made his adieus and set

forth upon his journey toward Yemen.

After his arrival there months passed, while he attended to matters of

state. When the time came that he could return, he purchased all that

his wife had ordered. So many things had occurred that it was not

strange that he should forget the servant’s commission.

While the ship was upon her homeward journey, suddenly it became dark

as pitch before the vessel, while behind it the skies were quite clear.

This made it impossible to navigate the ship. Fear came upon everyone.

Thereupon the captain summoned all who were on board. “If there be

anyone among you,” he said, solemnly, “who has forgotten a promise or

forgotten a vow, let him stand forth!”

When the prince heard this command, he remembered the commission of his

wife’s servant and her low-spoken prediction, when the scornful words

had been uttered. He believed that the danger had come upon them

because of those words.

To the great surprise of all, their prince stepped forward. “I am the

one in fault,” he said. “This evil has come upon us because I have

broken a promise made to a slave. Turn the ship about. Let us return to

port, while I fulfill that which became a duty as soon as I had given

my word.”

Immediately upon the ship’s turning, the cloud began to follow them.

Soon they were back at Yemen, where the prince made haste to purchase

the patience stone. Afterward, by the grace of Allah (the Just One) the

ship flew so fast on its homeward voyage that it seemed like a bird,

and the palace was reached in an incredibly short space of time.

When the prince entered the palace, his wife, followed by her servant,

came down the broad staircase to meet him. Afterward they escorted him

up the stairs and into the pleasantest room of the castle. The wife

asked eagerly for the precious gems, and was wild with delight when

they were spread before her.

“Come, hither, slave!” she commanded, “and deck thy mistress in a

manner fitting to her station!”

The young girl obeyed without a murmur, although her heart was very

sore. When the task was finished, and the vain and wicked one sat

before a polished steel mirror admiring herself, the seeming slave

turned to the prince.

“My gracious master,” she said, very gently, “is it permitted me to ask

if thou rememberedst my humble request?”

The prince then delivered the stone, which was received with becoming

gratitude. “May Allah bless thee!” were her words.

Now, the only room in the entire palace which was at all mean had been

given to her, and everything that could add to her comfort had been

removed by command of her mistress. When the night came on she went to

this room and sat down to deliberate.

Grief at the loss of her mother tore her heart. The injustice of her

own slave was more than she could endure longer. It seemed as if Allah,

in whom she had hoped, must have forgotten her. Tears fell from her

beautiful eyes and sighs shook her frame. Long she sat there after the

hour for retiring.

When the palace became still and the prince was in his bed, he

bethought him of his wife’s supposed slave and wondered what she would

do with the patience stone. There was a mystery about her which he fain

would solve. More than once had he checked his wife in her heavy

demands upon the frail young girl; more than once had he been stirred

with the thought that she and not the one he had married should be the

princess. So, after his wife had fallen asleep, he arose lightly and

went to the door of the servant’s room, taking with him his faithful

Ahmed to bear witness to what he should discover.

The gift, that had been brought her, was about the size of a pea. As

the prince came to the door he saw the young girl wash the stone with

her tears. Afterward she placed it upon the broken table before her and

thus addressed it:

“Ai, patience stone! I was my mother’s only and precious child. One

day, as I, innocent and happy in her affection, sat in my room weaving

the lace that she had taught me to make, a bird came through the window

and spoke to me, saying: ‘During forty days shalt thou keep watch

beside a corpse. But upon the morning of the fortieth day it shall

happen to thee according to thy strongest desire.’

“The bird appeared to me three days and uttered the same message. Upon

the third day my mother, concealed within a closet, heard all that was

said. She, as well as I, was terrified. She determined to save me by

flight. But, while we slept, some mysterious power took me from her

side and placed me in this palace.

“I have not seen my mother since, and do not know whether she is dead

from the grief of our separation. As for myself, during forty days and

nights I watched beside the bier of this prince who is now my master.

Hadst thou been in my place, O stone! couldst thou have been utterly

patient?”

As she thus spoke, the patience stone began to swell with sympathy. As

it did so, it whispered, “Bravo! bravo!”

“With the first streak of light upon the fortieth morning,” continued

the speaker, “a ship passed the palace. Loneliness was heavy upon me. I

signaled it and asked that I might buy a slave girl. For her I offered

ten thousand piasters of the money my mother had put upon me.

“They sent me this slave who is now my mistress. I received her gladly.

I kissed her and put my own gold coins about her neck. I was kind to

her and felt that it was good to have companionship other than a stiff

and silent corpse.

“When the morning had fully dawned I, being restless, left my slave to

watch for a little while beside the bier while I wandered through the

beautiful rooms of the palace.

“Scarcely had I left his presence, when the spell was broken and the

noble prince was restored to life. I returned to find that he had made

my slave his princess. Immediately upon my return this false princess

spoke roughly to me, calling out that I was her slave.

“Since then she has required bitter things of me. Often in the absence

of the prince she beats me. Now she threatens my life. O, thou wise

stone, couldst thou have had patience to endure all this?”

When this pitiful question was sobbed forth, the patience stone cried

“Bravo!” once again, then it burst into a thousand pieces.

“O, patience stone,” cried the girl, “if thou couldst not bear this

that has been put upon me, how can I longer do so? Let me rather hang

myself, before my cruel slave mistress tortures me to death.”

Thereupon she took her sash, wound it about her throat, stepped upon a

wretched stool, and threw the other end of the sash over a beam in the

roof. She was upon the point of being strangled when the prince and his

faithful Ahmed broke into the room, caught her in their arms, and

brought her to the floor.

“Ah, my sultana!” said the prince, very tenderly, “so it was thou who

watched beside me during those bitter days! Why hast thou kept this

long silence?”

“Because I believed in Allah,” was the reply. “If he so willed my life,

I must not try to change it But I was unable longer to bear it.”

“Henceforth art thou my beloved,” said the prince. And he kissed her

three times upon the forehead. “This other, who won thy place through

falsehood, shall receive her just deserts.”

He then conducted the real sultana from the wretched room into a most

beautiful chamber, seated her upon a divan rich with cloth of gold,

then commanded very tenderly—for his heart was touched with her

suffering, “Remain here, my beloved, until I return to thee.”

He then went to the bedside of the false one, struck her with his

stick, and called fiercely: “Haste thee! Arise to receive thy just

punishment for the evil which thou hast brought upon thy innocent

mistress.”

The slave fell upon her face before him and besought his pardon. But he

would not listen. “Wilt thou have forty blows or shall forty crows be

summoned to bear thee out into the night?” he demanded.

“O!” cried she, “let the forty blows fall upon the heads of my enemies!

I ask that forty crows come. Perchance they will bear me back to my

home.”

Thereupon, at the prince’s command, slaves brought a basket, lifted and

placed her within it, then opened a window overlooking the sea. Forty

giant crows came, seized upon the basket with their beaks, and flew so

far away that neither the prince nor his beautiful sultana ever heard

of her again.

Then the young girl, who had been rescued from death by the prince,

begged that messengers be sent to relate her good fortune to her

mother—if haply she were yet alive—and that a camel might also be taken

to fetch her to their marriage feast.

This request was readily granted. And the mother, who had mourned her

daughter as dead, came hastily and with joy to greet her again. The

wedding feast lasted forty days and forty nights. Throughout it all

everything happened according to the wish of the kind and beautiful

girl. Salaam!

THE STORY OF THE BEAUTIFUL ONE WHO DID NOT HAVE HER DESIRE

The narrator of tales relates that, once upon a time, there lived a man

and his wife who were so poor that they had no home. So the woman

begged of her husband to seek a place for her in the bamam, or bath

house. Now, the bamam was a large building, with many rooms. When the

bamamjy, or keeper, had listened to the tale of the poor man he

answered: “There will be room for your wife to-morrow. Let her come

then.”

The husband returned with joy, and, on the morrow, accompanied his wife

to the bamam, where the keeper made her quite welcome. In a few days

there was born to the poor woman a little girl child, who was like a

ray of light for beauty and sweetness. As the mother sat gazing upon

her child, the wall of the bamam opened and three dervishes made their

appearance. Gifts were in their hands of those things that would add to

the woman’s comfort.

The first dervish approached with a great roll of very soft clothing.

“Thou shalt name this child,” said the dervish, “The Beautiful One Who

Does Not Obtain Her Desire.” Thereupon he withdrew, and the second

dervish came near, with a gift of sweet perfumes and ointments, and

said: “Whenever water shall touch the crown of this child’s head, it

shall turn into pieces of gold and roll to the ground. Roses shall fall

from about her cheeks whenever she laughs; and if, unhappily, she shall

weep, the tears will become pearls. When she is grown strong enough to

walk upon the earth, green grass shall spring up in her footsteps.”

Having spoken thus, the second dervish disappeared. The third then drew

near. His present consisted of a bracelet of gold. “Let this,” said the

third dervish, “be fastened about her arm. And if thou wouldst keep thy

child alive, then must thou guard well this amulet; for as long as it

remains upon her arm she shall live, but when once it is removed, then

death shall claim her.” Thus saying, the third dervish disappeared, as

had the others, and the walls of the bamam became as if they had not

been opened.

When the mother had recovered from her astonishment, she fastened the

amulet upon the infant’s arm; after which she began to bathe the little

one. All went as is usual, until she poured water from the basin upon

the child’s head, when, as the second dervish had predicted, the water

turned into gold pieces and fell to the ground in a shower.

The mother gathered the money and hid it; after which she made haste to

dress her child. When the little one had fallen asleep she called the

keeper of the bamam, and, giving him a handful of the coins, bade him

send for her husband. The keeper was surprised at receiving such an

amount from one who had seemed so poor, but, being a wise man, he asked

no questions and did as he had been requested.

When the husband came he greeted his wife and their newborn beautiful

infant; after which his wife told him of the visit from the three

dervishes and the wonderful things they had each foretold. The poor man

was nearly beside himself for joy that now he would be able fitly to

provide for his beloved little family. Tenderly he lifted the child in

his arms, and together they two set out to seek an abiding place.

They ordered a fine large house built and completely furnished. Back of

the house they caused a beautiful garden to be planted. In the middle

of this garden the fortunate parents ordered a kiosk builded; and when

it was finished they called the goldsmith and bade him cover it with

gold. This he did; and when the work was completed, its beauty could

not be described, it was so great. Thus did these happy parents prepare

a worthy place for the child whose coming had brought them such great

and good fortune.

The kiosk was made the immediate dwelling place of the little one, who

was guarded most tenderly. And, as the years went by, it continued unto

them as the second dervish had said; until they grew to possess such

wealth that they lost all idea of its value.

Time came and went until fifteen years had passed; and never in all the

world had there been so beautiful a blue-eyed, golden-haired,

rosy-cheeked damsel. To one who looked at her, it was as if a sun had

arisen.

We will now leave these people and go far away, unto the son of the

king at Yemen.

It must have been that Allah intended the beautiful girl to be the wife

of the young prince; for, one night, a dream was sent to him in which

she appeared. He was told her name, her father’s name, and the exact

country in which was her dwelling. So very real was her presence and so

clear the picture of her home that, upon waking, his heart was torn

with sorrow that it was only a dream. He called for a piece of

parchment and made a chart of the way through which they must pass who

should go to bring her unto him.

When the morning dawned, the young prince went directly to his queen

mother and, coming to speech, said: “My honored mother, may Allah give

happiness unto you! Last night, whether sleeping or waking, I know not,

but a marvelous vision passed before my eyes. I am so haunted with the

memory of it that life will be unto me as nothing, if thou do not

realize my vision unto me.”

To which the queen made reply: “What is this that thou askest of me, O,

my son! Well thou knowest that my heart is as thine, when the happiness

of my child is concerned. Speak! Relate unto me the vision. Then ask

what thou wilt, and, if Allah forbid not, it shall be done for thee.”

“O, mother!” the young man responded, “in a certain garden is a kiosk.

It is covered with beaten gold. But, beautiful as is the casket, much

more beautiful is the treasure for which it was created. The kiosk have

I seen; and the way unto it so plainly was shown to me, that I have

here a chart of that way—even of the waters, which lead unto it.”

“And what does the casket contain that can be worthy of such

magnificence, and worthy thus to disturb the peace of my son?”

“Within this kiosk, O, my mother, there dwelleth a maiden who is

innocent, gracious, pure, and altogether charming. So innocent is she

that, at her smile, roses form beside her cheeks and fall about her; so

gracious is she that when water is poured upon her head, it turns into

golden coins, with which can be done beneficent things; so pure is she

that when, perchance through grief at another’s woe, she may be caused

to weep, the tears change to pearls as they fall to the ground; and so

charming is her presence that, wherever she may walk—even upon the most

barren earth—soft grasses spring up to kiss her feet.”

When he had spoken thus the queen replied: “It is well, O, my son, that

thy beginning is as one who telleth a dream. For this that thou

relatest to me is an impossible thing. There is no golden kiosk; there

can be no maiden with this remarkable power.”

Then was the young man grieved as he answered: “And is it thus that my

mother turns aside that which concerns my life or my death? Since thou

wilt not believe me, then inquire of others. If it be false unto them

all, then let it be false unto thee!”

The love which this mother felt for her son and her grief at his

sorrow, caused her to send for the public criers—who are, also, the

newsmongers of that country. As these passed before the queen, the

prince caused that each one should be questioned as to whether, in all

the countries he knew, there were such a garden in which dwelt so good

and charming a maiden.

Each crier was astonished at so strange a question, until one came who

knew of the garden, the golden kiosk, and the charming maiden.

Prostrating himself before the royal personages, he made this answer:

“True it is, O prince, that there is such a place and that such a being

really exists. The outside of the garden do I know well. But the walls

are high and difficult to scale. One day, however, when I was without,

the gates were opened to permit the entrance of a visitor; and the

maiden of whom thou speakest walked before the golden kiosk that stands

beside a fountain in the middle of the garden. And, between the opening

and the closing of the gate, it was permitted that I should witness the

wonders of which thou questionest.”

Neither the prince nor his mother had further doubts concerning the

truth of the vision.

“Honored mother!” the prince entreated, “if thou really dost love me as

thou sayest, then permit me to beg that, with thy slaves and guard,

thou shouldst embark upon the morrow and seek out this maiden. If these

things be really true of her, and if she be willing, engage her to me

and cause that she return with thee.”

Upon the morrow the mother set out to fulfill the request of her son.

The way was long, and several months passed before the ship reached the

far-distant country. After disembarking she, with her attendants,

entered the city and asked the way. It was pointed out to them. They

went to the house and knocked at the door. It was opened, and they were

permitted to enter.

The queen was invited into the garden, where, very often, the guests

were received. Here her eyes discovered the golden kiosk. She, also,

was so fortunate as to find the parents, together with their daughter,

whom she was seeking.

After sitting down, they all conversed courteously; and the visitor was

more than delighted with the presence and manner of the young girl. But

her real object was to test the truth of those qualities which were

ascribed to her. Accordingly she said, “Verily, my child, it will

trouble you greatly, but I am wearied with my long journey and would be

gratified if you would bring a glass of water, with which to quench my

thirst.”

Then the maiden graciously arose and hastened to bring water unto this

guest from a far country. And everywhere that her light feet touched

the earth, soft grass sprang up. This caused astonishment and delight

in the mind of the queen, who took the cup when it was presented to her

and, as the young hostess made obeisance in its presentation, contrived

to spill a few drops of the water upon the beautiful bowed head.

The drops immediately rolled off as gold pieces. At this the queen—as

if in a paroxysm of weariness—caught the girl by the wrist and held so

tightly that her nails entered the soft flesh. Although no cry came

from the sweet lips, tears were forced to form in her eyes. These tears

afterward dropped upon the ground in exquisite pearls.

Then the visitor seemed to recover herself and related a story of her

adventures while on the way thither. The tale was so amusing that the

young girl began to smile. At which instant a rose appeared near each

exquisite cheek and dropped upon the rug on which the visitor sat.

There was now no longer any doubt in the mind of the queen. The object

of her journey had been gained. She therefore discovered her rank to

the parents; after which she said to them: “Verily, we have heard of

the beautiful qualities of this, your daughter. By the will of Allah,

and according to the law of the Prophet, I would marry her unto my son,

the prince. What is your will concerning this?”

Then were the parents greatly astonished and pleased. The mother,

coming to speech, made this reply: “O, my queen! we will not refuse our

daughter to such as you. Your orders are upon our heads. And may Allah

graciously give his blessing!”

Then the queen engaged the daughter unto her son; after which she gave

direction, saying: “With the half of my slaves and the half of my guard

will I now return. With those that remain do you conduct your daughter,

with all speed, to our palace. Verily, we shall make haste with the

preparations for the wedding and the festivities.”

Thereupon the lady queen arose, embraced the maiden most tenderly, made

her adieus, and, taking the half of her slaves and of her guard, began

her homeward journey. When, after many days, she reached the palace,

the prince came to welcome her and to ask, eagerly, concerning the

result of her quest.

“Most happy am I to answer thee, O, my son!” was the glad reply.

“Verily, it is according to that which the vision revealed unto thee.

There liveth such a maiden as thou hast believed in, and all those

bright qualities belong unto her. One who sees her desires to look

again—of such beauty is she possessed. I have been so fortunate as to

engage her unto thee. She will come to thee presently.”

When the prince learned this, great fear lest evil should befall her

whom his soul desired came upon him. His mind became filled with

sadness; his hands and feet began to tremble. He bent to kiss his

mother’s hand, after which he sat down and was lost in meditation. As

preparations for the wedding began, he could look only with grave and

longing eyes along the road over which his betrothed was to come.

Let these remain here, while we return to the other place in the story.

Heavy silken garments were prepared, with all skill, for the maiden who

had been engaged to the prince. They were bound into a great package.

All things necessary for the journey were made ready, when the

mother—wishing to make certain changes in her own wardrobe—called the

woman who had been nurse to her daughter and said unto her: “Verily, I

give into your care a most precious charge. Take my daughter—whom

before this I have intrusted to you—watch over her most carefully, and

with these slaves and guard, conduct her safely to Yemen, to the palace

of the king. After a few days her father and I will follow, with all

speed.”

Thereupon the nurse asked permission that her own daughter might

accompany them, as the way was long, the distance very great and her

heart would be sore at the parting. Permission was granted, and the

little company embarked.

At evening, when the bride-to-be asked for food, the nurse made answer:

“Fearing that harm might come to thee from eating of the ship’s

rations, I prepared such food as is best for one who journeys, for the

first time, upon the sea.” So saying, she cut off some slices of salted

sausage, which she had prepared especially for an evil purpose, and

gave them to the girl.

In about half an hour the maiden became very thirsty. “O, mother,” she

asked of the nurse, “give me some water, I pray!”

To this the woman made reply: “It is not well that you should have

water now.” And, although the same request was spoken frequently, no

water was permitted to come near the maiden.

As the night wore on, her thirst became more violent; until, at last,

she was maddened with it and cried: “Give me water or let me die!”

Then the evil woman said: “My girl, if you will let me take out one of

your eyes, you shall have water; but, otherwise, you shall have none.”

To which, after this cruel reply had been repeated many times, the

sufferer made answer: “It is possible to live with only one eye; but

impossible to live without water. Take thy desire and give unto me

mine!”

The woman, overjoyed, made haste to remove one of the eyes; after which

she permitted her charge a slight draught of water. But this could not

long appease such thirst as had been created by the salted sausage.

Again the poor girl moaned: “Verily, mother, I am thirsty!” To which

was made no answer.

As the hours wore on and the suffering grew past all endurance, the

woman said again: “Verily, girl, if you will give me the other eye, I

will give you as much water as you can wish.”

What could the poor girl do? Beside herself with thirst and maddened

with pain, she hesitated but a little; then, losing all self-control,

sobbed: “Alas! what evil is come upon me! I am powerless in your hands.

Do unto me whatever you will, only permit me to quench this thirst,

which devours my throat and causes my tongue to swell.”

The woman, delighting in evil, removed the other eye, and, afterward,

gave all the water desired by the sufferer. It was swallowed eagerly;

but, alas! although her thirst was assuaged, she had been made blind!

Now, all this happened while the slaves and the guard were in another

part of the ship, and only the wicked nurse and her daughter were near

to her who was to become bride to the young prince.

As the ship neared land, the nurse removed the bridal clothing from her

charge and put it upon her own daughter, whose face she covered with a

veil. The clothes of her own girl were then put upon the maiden and her

face was covered, as before.

Upon landing, the nurse said to the others: “Do you remain here for a

little, while I conduct my daughter to the house of a relative, where

she will stay until my return.”

She then led the maiden without the city and left her alone, upon a

mountain. After that, she wrote a letter to the parents of the maiden

and gave it to the master of the port, with the command that he should

find, upon the next incoming ship, the persons to whom it was addressed

and deliver it to them. The letter read as follows:

“Do not continue your journey. Your daughter died upon the way to this

port. She was buried in the deep sea. As for me, my grief is so great

that I shall never return.”

Having done this, she hastened to rejoin those whom she had left; and

the little company proceeded upon its journey to the palace. The

nurse’s daughter guarded the secret well, so that no one dreamed of the

sad thing that had happened. With all speed they pressed upon their

way, and were soon met by the people of the palace, who conducted the

woman and her daughter into the presence of the queen.

Now, the lady queen, after greeting the girl—who was brought to her in

most splendid attire—regarded her attentively and said to herself:

“This is not the one who so charmed me in the quiet garden. There is

something wrong. Let us see unto what the end will bring us.”

With this seeming discovery she sat down to meditate; while the girl,

who desired to become a princess, was led to her own room, and everyone

about the palace made haste with preparations for the wedding.

That evening they married the nurse’s daughter to the prince. And all

of the guests drank a royal drink from cups that were brilliant with

gems. Afterward, the prince said to her who had become his bride, “I

wonder greatly that, with all these festivities, not once have you

smiled.”

Then, although she smiled at his word—which was a command, coming as it

did from a prince—there occurred nothing at all unusual. Neither roses

nor the fragrance of roses filled the air about her cheeks.

At this the prince, beginning to doubt, said to himself, “Most

wonderful things have been told me concerning the maiden who was to

become my princess; not one of which has manifested itself since the

coming of this person.” After reflecting thus, he determined to speak

of that which disturbed his mind.

“My princess,” he said, very gently, “it was related to me that when

you laughed, roses formed near your cheeks. But nothing of that kind

came to pass with your laughter just now. What is the meaning of this?”

“My lord,” was the careful answer, “that which has been told you is

true; but it only happens once during each year.”

Thus were the questionings of the prince quieted for a little.

When it was morning and the princess was led to the bath, the queen

mother came to accompany her. While one of the slaves washed the face

of the girl, the mother approached with a cup of water. “Permit me, my

child,” said she, and straightway poured the contents of the cup upon

the girl’s head. Not a gold piece made its appearance.

At this, although she uttered not a word, the queen’s suspicions were

strengthened. However, taking the girl’s hand, she led her from the

bath and together they hastened to the palace, where the one who had

been made princess sat down quietly, by herself.

Let these people stay here while we return to the helpless one, who had

been deserted upon the mountain.

Her poor blind eyes could not cease their weeping until, as the result

of her tears, a wall of pearls, as high as a man, piled itself before

her. A muleteer, who was coming from the other side of the mountain,

followed his path until it led him near to the suffering one. He was

lost in astonishment and pity at what he saw. When he could recover

himself, he approached the maiden and said: “Ai, my girl, what fate has

brought you to this plight?”

“Ai, baba” (which, being interpreted, means “father”), “do not ask me!

Providence has ordained it. I must be patient.”

Thereupon the muleteer, by her direction, gathered up the pearls and

put them into the donkey’s panniers; after which he took the blind girl

by the hand and led her to his own home. “Wife,” said he, “take good

care of this poor maiden, whom I found in great distress. Let no more

harm come to her!”

The wife noted the extraordinary beauty of the stranger and was deeply

touched at her suffering. She led her into an inner chamber and cared

for her as if she had been their own child. After a time, when these

people gently questioned her, the poor girl related her story from

beginning to end.

“Alas! what a pity!” they both exclaimed.

And their sympathy was so sweet to her that, lifting her face toward

them, a sweet smile passed over it. At this, roses bloomed near her

cheeks.

The muleteer and his wife were speechless with astonishment. But she,

taking the roses in her hands, held them toward the old man. “Kind

baba, if you would try to help me out of this sorrow, take these roses,

lay them in a basket, and, calling aloud that you are selling roses out

of season, go past the palace of him who should be my husband. Should

you be asked how great is your price for them, you must say that you do

not sell for money, but that you will give each handful of roses, only,

in exchange for an eye.”

“So be it, my poor child,” answered the kind old man. “With the morning

I shall do as you request.”

Accordingly, upon the morrow, the muleteer, with the roses in a basket

upon his shoulder, set out upon his journey. As he neared the palace he

began to cry: “Roses! roses out of season! I am selling roses that are

out of season!”

The false one heard the cry and said to her mother: “There is a man

with roses. Let us buy some that I may give them to the prince. I will

tell him that they grew in my cheeks this morning. Perchance I shall

find more favor in his sight.”

Those two—with the evil hearts—ran quickly to the door of the palace

and summoned the muleteer as he was passing. When he heard the voices

he turned. They motioned him to come. He approached, and let down the

basket from his shoulder.

As the beautiful flowers caught the eyes of the girl she asked eagerly,

“Well, gardener, for how much will you sell the roses?”

To which came the answer, as directed: “For money will I not part with

them. Only for an eye will I exchange each handful.”

The mother and daughter looked at each other. “Do not fear,” said the

mother, in a low voice, “he cannot know.”

“Very well, mother,” replied the daughter, in a whisper, “although you

did not know it, I placed the eyes of the one whom we destroyed in her

box. Do you detain him while I hasten to bring them. The prince must

have roses to-day!”

So saying, she hastened and speedily brought the eyes, gave them to the

supposed gardener, and received the exquisite roses in return.

The muleteer delivered the roses, and, without tarrying, hastened home,

where, with his wife, he almost ran to the room of their adopted

daughter. “Rejoice, thou wronged one!” cried they both. “Thy sight will

be restored.”

The maiden was overjoyed at this. She arose and, taking pure water,

performed ablutions; after which she prostrated herself twice, to

obtain the favor of Allah. Then, raising her hands, she prayed.

Allah was gracious. The prayer was heard. The blind girl reached forth

her hands and the muleteer let them touch the box in which were the

precious things. She took first one, then the other, and replaced it.

At that very instant, by the will of Allah, sight returned unto her and

she looked out upon his earth. So kind was he that her eyes were

better, even, than before. Thereupon, with joyful heart, she returned

thanks unto him; after which she prayed.

Some time passed, and whenever the maiden laughed, roses bloomed about

her cheeks; wherever she walked, soft grass sprang up joyfully; and

whenever she bathed, great coins of gold ran down off her head. She

grieved at the loss of her own mother, but patiently waited the will of

Allah. Meanwhile, the kind-hearted muleteer seemed to her like a

father, and she grew very fond of the old couple. As for those who were

sheltering her, they became so rich, through the presence of this

maiden, that they built a great house and filled it with servants, both

men and women. And in this house, the most beautiful apartment of all

was set apart for the young girl whose coming had so enriched them.

But, as the days went by, the maiden grew sad and made of the baba a

strange request. “Father,” she said, “I would have you build me a tomb,

made all of shim-shirak stone. Within there shall be a golden casket.

And the doors of the tomb shall be wrought so marvelously that they

shall speak. Once every hour they must open; and as they turn in each

direction, they must say, again and again, ‘The beautiful one who did

not have her desire!’”

Then was the muleteer sad of heart. “My daughter,” he answered, “let

the tomb be as you desire. If Allah wills, it shall be builded with his

blessing.”

Still heavy of heart, he arose and went to the top of the mountain,

where, at great cost, he caused such a tomb to be made as had been

described. It was all of shim-shirak stone, and within was a golden

casket. Also the doors opened of themselves and repeated the words that

had been commanded.

After having finished the tomb, the old man found it so perfect that he

stayed for a long time to admire. Then he went home and said to his

foster daughter: “Behold! I have made the tomb as you requested. I beg

that you will be sad no longer.”

Let us leave these three persons here, while we return to the intruders

in the palace.

As soon as the wicked daughter of the wicked woman had secured the

roses from the supposed gardener, she arrayed herself in the most

beautiful of the robes which had been stolen from the other, and,

taking the roses in her hands, carried them to the prince.

Now, the roses were marvelously beautiful, and their fragrance was

something passing sweet. When, therefore, the prince had received them,

he laid them against his face, and it seemed as if he could never have

enough of them. When she who had brought them saw this, it began to

appear to her whence these flowers had come; and, as the prince was so

enamored of their sweetness as to forget her very presence, anger and

fear began to stir her breast. All the night through, she lay and

pondered upon the roses, the strange price, and the rapture of the

young prince.

When morning dawned she hastened to her mother with the startling

announcement: “Mother, most surely the girl, whom we have supposed

dead, is yet alive. She is not far away. At any moment she may

overthrow our plans. Hasten! Let us send a witch to find her, and,

after that, to remove the amulet from her arm. Then, surely, must she

die.”

Throughout the night the mother had been troubled in like manner, and

of herself had resolved that something must be brought about to prevent

their undoing. Therefore she was quite ready to accept the advice of

her daughter, and ordered a slave to conduct her to the tent of a

witch, to whom she told a false story and ended with the order her

daughter had suggested.

Now, the witch, as well, was evil-minded. She listened carefully and

promised to accomplish the difficult task, for the great sum of money

which was offered her. When the woman had gone from the tent, she made

incantations. Afterward she set out, and did not pause until the very

door of the muleteer’s house was reached. It opened at her knock, and

she was led upstairs, into the room where the muleteer, his wife, and

their foster daughter received their guests. Here she was graciously

admitted and bidden to sit down.

After a little while it became evening, whereupon the witch said: “Ai!

mother, I have journeyed a long way. It is now late. I am afraid to

continue my journey at night. Indeed, the very reason of my call was to

ask you if you would permit me to pass the night under your roof.”

The muleteer’s wife was not pleased with this. She had not been pleased

with the presence of the witch. Still, it is incumbent upon the

faithful to be hospitable. Accordingly, she answered: “Very well,

mother. Here is a room. Enter it and lie down in peace! But first wait

until the evening meal is prepared. We would have you partake of it

with us.”

Very greatly was the witch pleased with this. She watched stealthily,

to learn which was the maiden’s room, and, after that, went to her own

and lay down. Soon, all the household were in their beds and asleep.

When midnight came, the witch arose and stole to the maiden’s door,

entered it, and went directly to the bed upon which the young creature

lay in a sound, sweet sleep. Creeping closely to the bedside, she

unclasped the gold band from the girl’s arm, then hastened to her own

room, put on her cloak and sandals, and left the house.

From thence she hastened to the palace, and in the very early morning

delivered up the stolen jewel to the mother of the false princess. It

was received with great rejoicing by both of the evil plotters. They

permitted themselves to be happy again, now that they felt assured of

the death of her whom they had feared.

Let these remain quiet while we turn to the muleteer’s wife.

When morning came she arose and, with misgiving, went to the room which

had been given to their weird visitor. It was as she feared. The room

was empty. Then, hoping against fear, she looked to see if the woman’s

cloak could be found. That, too, had disappeared. Thus was her fear

confirmed and her perplexity increased. She then went to seek her

foster daughter; but, finding her asleep, would not waken her, and

returned to her own room.

The hours dragged by. It was near noon, and the maiden, an early riser,

had not appeared. The foster mother began speaking to herself: “This

child, whom Allah graciously sent to us, used always to arise very

early. Now, to-day—when the person to whom we gave food and shelter has

acted so as to perplex my soul—does this daughter delay her daily

coming to me. I will go and awaken her.”

Accordingly, filled with vague alarm, she hastened to the door and

called with tender voice, “O, my daughter, why do you sleep so long?”

No answer came to her words. Again she called, and again listened in

vain. Not the slightest sound greeted her anxious ear. She entered the

door, approached the bed, and leaned over the unconscious figure. But,

leaning and listening, she found that not the faintest breath passed

those quiet lips. In desperate haste she clasped the cold hands and

began to chafe the delicate feet. Alas! they were like ice.

Then, indeed, did the heart of the muleteer’s wife become sore. She

threw herself upon the floor, began beating her head against it, and,

as she did so, she mourned: “Ai! my girl, my girl is dead! Henceforth

shall the world be accursed unto me!”

Her husband heard the cry. He hastened to her and begged to know the

cause of such grief. Whereupon she answered: “Ai, my lord, our girl,

whom we love and whom we had taught to love us, is dead. Alone, in the

night, did she die. I cannot contain myself for grief!”

When the muleteer heard this, and after he had assured himself of its

truth, tears, like rain, began to flow from his eyes. Then the whole

household came to join in mourning the death of the beautiful girl.

After a time, when they could restrain their grief, they prepared her

body and laid it in the tomb which she, with sad prophecy, had caused

to be builded. This done, these good people did not mend their grief,

but continued to mourn the gracious presence which had been lent to

them for a little while.

Let us leave them now, and return to the plotting mother in the

prince’s palace.

When this evil-minded person learned, through inquiries which she

cautiously set on foot, that the one whom she had wronged was dead, it

became unto her as if all the world were her own. And, without seeming

to realize that Allah knew of the evil which she had committed, she

even dared attribute her fortune to him! “O, praise be to Allah!” she

cried. “At last we are freed from fear!”

Later on, the prince heard—through some visitors at the court—such part

of the dead maiden’s history as was known to the world: that about such

a time she had been found in great distress by the muleteer, whose kind

heart had prompted him to take her to his own home, where she had

become as a daughter in the house. And that immediately upon her

coming, the Fates had blessed the old man and his wife, until they had

houses and lands, men and women servants. But after all this had come

to them, and when life seemed complete, the blackest of grief had

overshadowed them in the death of their adopted child.

This tale wrought deeply upon the mind of the prince. He sighed in his

soul and became very sad. After that some strange fantasy possessed

him. He could no longer endure the presence of the girl who had come to

dwell in his palace.

One day, when his soul was more than usually sad, together with his

companions, he went out to wander upon the mountains. After several

days they came to the foot of one that was higher than the others in

the range. It was evening. Wearied with this aimless pacing hither and

thither, they sat down to rest. All at once a faint, faint voice

reached the ear of the prince. And the words that it spoke were these:

“The Beauty who did not have her desire! The Beauty who did not have

her desire!”

Without a moment’s pause to consider whether it might not be a lure

into danger, the prince, who was brave of heart, arose with his

companions and hastened to the summit of the mountain. There he came

upon a tomb of shim-shirak stone, so brilliant as to dazzle the eyes of

a beholder. And its doors, opening of themselves, both inward and

outward, were repeating softly the words that had arrested his

attention.

All this aroused great wonder in the minds of the prince and his

companions. They questioned concerning the building of so magnificent a

burial place, and whether any body had been placed therein. After a

time, as was quite natural, a sad curiosity prompted the prince,

himself, to enter.

Only a golden casket, with closed lid, met his gaze. Presently he

approached, and, as the lid was unfastened, raised it and discovered,

within, a young woman who was like the full moon for beauty; and beside

her a child which reflected her brightness. The child nestled against

the arm of its mother.

At this sight the prince—who had been prepared for any marvelous

unfolding—became even more tender of heart. His eyes filled with tears,

and he gave thanks for, at least, the preservation of the infant.

He lifted the child very tenderly, wrapped it in the snowy silken

covering, and, holding it closely in his arms, rejoined his companions,

who awaited him without the tomb.

They all returned directly to the palace. As they entered, the prince

summoned the queen, the girl who had come to him, her mother, and gave

command that the child be recognized as one of the chief members in the

royal household. To the girl he said:

“You are young and strong. It is my will that you devote yourself to

the care of this babe. See that he does not cry, while I go outside and

give orders concerning his ablutions.”

Now, the child, being strong and well grown, had freed itself from the

detaining hands of the prince and slipped to the floor. After his

going, it wandered, with uncertain, childish footsteps, about the room,

playing with whatever object attracted its attention. In this way it

went up to an open drawer in which lay the bracelet, which the witch

had removed from the arm of its own mother. In a moment the bright

object was in the tiny hands.

This sight caused a great shock to the girl who was tending him. She

flew to recover the precious trinket; but the child would not let go of

it. He tightened his hold and, opening his mouth, began to scream

lustily.

The prince heard the cry. He came within and asked, angrily, why she

was making the child cry. To which she made reply: “But, my lord, the

babe has my bracelet. It is only because I would take it from him that

he cries.”

“If it were twenty bracelets, let him play!” was the response.

But as is often the manner with children when in a strange place, this

one, having once begun, would not cease his crying. Nothing would

appease him. It seemed as if he would cry his little heart out.

Thereupon the prince took him in his arms, called his companions, and,

with all speed, hastened to the tomb of shim-shirak stone.

It was the end of the hour. And the doors, opening inward and outward

of themselves, were uttering the same plaintive words which had greeted

his ears at the first.

The prince quickened his pace, entered the tomb, raised the lid of the

golden casket and laid the child where he had found it, beside the

mother. As he did this, the bracelet, of which the little fingers had

not once let go, touched the white arm of the woman. At the contact her

mouth began to quiver, and, from the waist downward, she became alive.

Her feet grew warm and stirred.

This marvelous occurrence was most unexpected. Everything was as it had

been at the finding of the child save—ah! there was the bracelet! And,

as he scanned the arm more closely, the prince was convinced that it

had been accustomed to the wearing of a band, the exact width of that

which the child, in its grief, had brought away from the palace.

Immediately upon noting this, the prince was filled with more wonder.

He felt assured that the bracelet must be an amulet from which some

life-giving power emanated. He therefore took it from the child’s

hand—who, strange to relate, yielded it up willingly—and clasped it

about the lifeless arm.

His thoughtfulness was rewarded. While he stood, breathless, a slight

convulsion stirred the figure of the woman. She sneezed, and after that

effort, made a slow movement and sat up in the casket.

The child clung to her with a new zeal, and she, gathering him tenderly

to her bosom, turned with wide-open eyes to regard the tall young

personage who stood beside her. That he was of royal birth was

evidenced by his bearing. The evidence was continued in his costume.

The mystery of life and death was upon her; therefore were her thoughts

clear. At once she was impressed that this must be the prince of whom

she had been the promised bride.

The prince, upon his part, already had been won. How much more

strongly, then, was his heart drawn to her when he beheld her living,

breathing, moving? He made courtly obeisance and thus addressed himself

to her:

“My queen, is it permitted me to ask before whom I have the honor to

stand? And whose is this child which already possesses my heart?”

To which the Beautiful One, looking first at him and then at the child,

made answer:

“My prince, I left my mother at Stamboul, and, with slaves and guard,

in charge of my former nurse and in company with her daughter, I was

coming to be your bride. Upon the way, the nurse, who had been

trustworthy until then, became jealous for the advancement of her own

daughter. First, she took out my eyes; then she exchanged our clothing,

and, finally, left me upon a mountain, alone, to die of grief and

starvation.

“But Allah heard the falling of my tears. He caused a kind old muleteer

to pass that way, who, when he espied me, was moved with compassion and

led me to his house, where both he and his wife received me as if I had

been their own child.

“Shortly afterward I caused some roses, that had bloomed at my cheeks,

to be cried before your palace; with the command that they must not be

sold for gold, but that only by the exchange of an eye, for each

handful, could they be obtained. The evil ones saw the roses. They

would secure them as a present to your Royal Highness. Eagerness

weakened their wisdom to such extent that they accepted the condition,

and thereby did I recover my eyes. As I put them in place, by Allah’s

grace, they became seeing.

“Finally, the roses which I sent were given to you, who received them

and experienced a strange influence. At that very time a golden-winged

messenger appeared to me, bearing this child in his arms and saying:

‘He will be kept for you until you shall lie in your tomb. Do not fear!

All will yet be well!’

“Then I caused this tomb to be builded, and, shortly after, a witch was

sent by my undoers, who stole this life-keeping amulet from my arm. At

that moment I died. They laid me in this tomb, where I have remained

until, at your approach, the golden-winged messenger again approached

and left the child beside me. I could stir neither hand nor foot. As to

the child, O, prince! it is yours. It was created in Paradise, when you

were holding the roses to your face.”

As this tale unfolded itself and the willing listener was convinced of

its truth, he wept so bitterly at all her sufferings that the tears

might have been of blood. Then, recovering himself, he clasped the

narrator to his heart.

He then lifted her out of the casket, gave her his arm to lean upon,

and, taking the child upon his other arm and surrounded by his

attendants, conducted her to his palace.

After his queen mother had received them, and, summoning slaves, had

made the mother and child comfortable in a most luxurious apartment,

the prince commanded that the wicked nurse and her daughter should

appear before him; when he ordered the chief headsman to strike them

dead.

The man gave them each so heavy a blow that their bones rattled. Their

souls were dispatched to Hades and their bodies were thrown out to the

dogs. Then the prince rejoiced greatly, saying: “Praise be to Allah

that, at last, he has freed me from those evil vixens! Now has my head

become clear again.”

Afterward, he sent fleet messengers to bring the parents of her whom

they had thought dead. And he also called the kind muleteer and his

wife. In the presence of all these and of his court, was he married to

the Beautiful One whose light footstep caused the grass to grow upon

the driest earth; whose laughter filled his life with roses, and whose

tears—even tears of joy at her newly found happiness—became pearls

before his eyes.

The wedding festivities extended throughout the kingdom. They continued

during forty days and forty nights. The prince and his beautiful wife,

and the child which had been given to them, lived happily ever

afterward. With the great sums of gold which rolled from the head of

the true princess whenever she performed her ablutions, the prince was

able to pay great debts which the late war had entailed upon his

country. Thus were his people relieved of the heavy taxes. Salaam!

STORY OF THE CRYING POMEGRANATE AND THE LAUGHING BEAR

The narrator of tales relates that, once upon a time, there lived a

king who had nine daughters. And because there was no son, he made a

vow that he would condemn his wife to death if their next child were

not a boy.

Time came and went until another child was born to the king. And,

although this one, also, was a little girl, the queen, with the careful

assistance of her faithful nurse, concealed the fact, and the child was

supposed to be a boy. The king rejoiced greatly, giving thanks to

Allah, because he believed that a son had come to him, who could

inherit the kingdom.

But after a number of years had gone by, and the time came when the

child was to be enrolled in the royal army corps, the queen knew that

her deceit would be discovered. She shut herself up in her room and

wept bitterly.

The child was greatly disturbed at her grief, and begged to come in and

comfort her. “My mother,” it said, “why do you weep so? What is there

that should trouble you?”

“Ai, my child!” the queen answered, “of all who weep there is no one

who has sadder cause than I. And the cause of my sorrow is this: When

you were a little baby it was told the king, your father—who greatly

desired a son to inherit his throne—that you were a boy. He has

believed it until this day. Now he will learn the truth, and I shall

lose my life.”

But the child—being very wise as well as loving—comforted her mother

with these words: “Do not fear, dearest mother! I will go to my father,

the king, and ask him to delay this ceremony for another year.”

The next morning, therefore, the child, weeping bitterly, went into her

father’s presence and kissed his hand.

“Why do you cry, my son?” asked the father. “Tears are for girls. They

should not be seen upon the face of the king’s son.”

“O! my father! I am still little. Yet you are going to make me one in

the royal army. Therefore do I weep.”

“Well, well, my son,” said the king, “dry your tears! We will postpone

this matter until your next birthday.”

At these words the girl kissed her father’s hand gratefully and

returned to her mother with rejoicing. The queen was glad, indeed. She

took the child in her arms and kissed her eyes.

The year passed most swiftly, and, at its end, the mother was so racked

with fear that, again, she began to cry. Upon this the child made bold

to approach her father, who, for her sake, delayed the initiation for

another year.

But when the third year came, the queen, knowing in her heart that

there could be no hope, went to her room and gave herself up to such

bitter tears that the child was not able to restrain her own. So they

two wept together.

Then the mother said: “Ai, my daughter! Although your father, the king,

has delayed this important ceremony for two years, I am certain that he

will not defer it a third time. You are now large and well grown. There

is no longer any respite for me. To-morrow I shall be put to death.

This is the last day of my life.”

But the girl was determined to cheer her mother, at all cost. “Ai,

honored mother!” she made answer. “If my father summons me I will beg

for a half hour’s grace, when I will go to the stable, mount a swift

horse, and fly away.”

“But what will become of you, my child?”

“Dearest mother, do not be anxious about me. I will go to foreign lands

and dwell. It will be a small sacrifice to make for your happiness.”

The next morning tents were pitched in a great open square; and when it

became known that the royal ceremony was to take place, an immense

crowd of people collected.

The king called for the supposed prince, and said: “My son, you are now

fourteen years old. The long-postponed initiation will take place

to-day.”

“Indeed, my honored father, I am now ready. Will you grant that I may

first ride, on horseback, about the square, to view the people and the

grand preparations? After that you will do with me according to your

will.”

“Very well, my son,” answered the king. “Go! Show their prince to my

people!”

The supposed prince then flew to embrace her royal mother; after which

she went to the stables and selected a most beautiful coal-black steed.

As she stood by the horse’s head, tears flowed down her cheeks.

At this occurred something most strange. The beautiful horse, seeing

the tears of the princess, began to speak: “Ai, my sultana! Why do you

cry?”

Now, the princess was surprised that, while all about supposed her to

be a prince, she should be addressed as sultana. However, she was too

distressed to cavil at anything; so made answer:

“No one has greater cause for grief than I. Ever since my birth, my

father has believed me to be a boy. Now, at the performance of this

ceremony, he will be told what you already know. In that hour he will

cause my mother to be put to death. I have half an hour, only, in which

to escape. My father has given permission that I should ride about the

square to view the people. At the end of that time, I have decided to

make my escape.”

When the princess had confided this sorrow and perplexity to the horse,

he spoke again: “Sultana,” he said, “there is no cause for grief. Mount

my back and, with the favor of Allah, I will bear you to other lands.

But, first, accept a bit of advice. When the time comes that we are to

fly, hold to my neck with all your might. Also keep fast hold upon the

reins; because my speed is so great that, if a bullet be shot off

behind us, it could not overtake me. Bear this in mind and act

accordingly!”

Thereupon the young girl mounted the beautiful coal-black steed and

rode to the public square—from one end to the other of it—while all the

soldiers stood watching one whom they believed to be their prince.

When the half hour had elapsed, the horse gave a spring, from the

admiring soldiers, and was off like the wind.

When the people saw this they believed that the spirited creature had

become frightened, and that the prince could not manage him. A crier

was sent to the king, while the soldiers set out in pursuit.

But they found no trace of the horse, nor of his rider—not so much as

the prints of hoofs in the road. Then they returned; for they felt that

search was hopeless. The king and all his people went into mourning for

the prince; and the soldiers were ordered back to their stations.

Now let us come to the princess.

In one day the strange horse brought his rider into a country whose

distance was a six months’ journey from her own kingdom. Here he

stopped and said to her:

“Sultana, this much of your rescue have I been able to accomplish for

you. I can go no farther. Hereafter you must save yourself.”

At this the princess, realizing her lonely condition, dismounted,

saying: “O, my beautiful deliverer! First, it was Allah who saved me,

then he sent me to you, and now I am left to myself. I will go on; but

if danger befall me, what am I to do?” As she spoke tears gathered in

her eyes.

The horse answered: “Ai, sultana! take three hairs from the forelock

which hangs over my eyes. Should trouble perplex you, rub them together

and I will come to your aid.”

The princess took the hairs, gratefully, and put them in her bosom.

Then, flinging her arms about the horse’s neck, she thanked him for all

he had done to help her and bade him adieu.

As she withdrew her arms, he disappeared.

The princess traveled on and on, until she entered another country. It

was evening. Before her stood a grand palace, at the side of which was

a large kitchen. Hastily removing the marks of royalty from her

clothing, she entered and asked of the cooks: “My masters, will you

take me as an assistant?”

But they were in haste and answered her roughly: “Are you blind? Can’t

you see that we are up to our elbows in work? What should we do with a

lad like you?”

However, with all the persuasion at her command, she entreated to be

allowed to try; and, finally, was accepted and set to running of

errands, upstairs and down. After a little, she asked one of the men

why they were cooking such enormous quantities of food and in such

haste.

“Ai, my son,” was the reply, “do you not know that every six years a

dragon comes to this country and feeds on the king’s liver? To-morrow

night is the time of his next coming. It is thought possible that he

may be tempted to eat of other food, if enough is spread in the

banqueting hall. That is why we are in such great haste. Possibly we

may save the life of our king.”

The princess was so amazed that she bit her finger, to learn whether,

indeed, she were awake.

All that night she was not permitted to sleep, but worked as hard as

she could, serving the cooks. When morning came she stole away, went

into the other part of the palace, and climbed the stairs. There, in a

room by herself, she saw a sultana who was dressed from head to foot in

black. Without letting herself be seen, the young explorer went to

another room, in which was seated another princess. This one, likewise,

was dressed in black, and all the room was draped in mourning. Leaving

this, she went to still another room, in which a sultana, who was

arrayed from head to foot in scarlet, was seated upon a divan. The

princess went on, noiselessly, until she came to the chamber of the

king. The court physician had administered a powder to him, and the

king lay unconscious.

During all this, more time had elapsed than the princess dreamed. It

was now evening, and time for the coming of the dragon. She knew, by

savory odors that the feast which she had helped to prepare, was spread

in the banqueting hall. It seemed to her that a time had come when she

should apply for aid. Her heart was trembling with hope and fear; but

she took the hairs from her bosom, rubbed them together, when—O, joy,

the beautiful horse stood before her once more.

“My princess, art thou in need of me?” he asked. “And what is it that

thou requirest?”

“If it be in your power, my noble deliverer, give me a sword so sharp

and strong that should I strike an enormous dragon with it, he must be

severed in two.”

Without moving from the spot, the horse turned his head and the

princess saw a sword among his caparisons. “Take it, my sultana!” he

answered. “Use it well. And remember that you must not strike a second

blow, in the same place.” With this warning he disappeared.

The princess grasped the sword. Going directly to the king’s chamber,

she hid herself in a corner.

The palace was deserted. It seemed strange that the people should leave

their beloved king to his fate; but this was in the agreement by which

the whole country had been spared. In the middle of the night a great

noise burst forth through all the sky. The moon and stars became

obscured. Everything was black as pitch. Immediately afterward, with

loud snorts, an immense dragon appeared in the middle of the room.

Scarcely had he appeared when the young princess seized the sword with

both hands and crying, “Yellah!” struck him such a blow that his head

was severed from the body.

Then a terrible sound came from the body of the dragon; and this sound

was like a voice, which formed itself into these words: “O, valiant

youth! Let me know, by striking again, whether you are, indeed, a boy.”

But the princess remembered the warning of the horse and remained

standing perfectly still, until the soul of the dragon had left his

body and gone to Hades, its rightful place. She then cut off one of his

ears, put it in her pocket, and, hiding the sword in her clothing,

returned to the kitchen and renewed her tasks, running up and down

stairs according to the directions of the cooks.

When morning dawned the king recovered from the effects of the powder,

which the court physician had given him, looked about him and exclaimed

with great astonishment at finding himself still alive. He saw the

pitch-black body of the dragon lying headless in the middle of his

chamber. Even in that condition, one could hardly view it without

losing his wits. He gave thanks unto Allah for his escape; after which

his mind was lost in wonder as to who had killed his mortal enemy.

After a little he went out of the palace. The whole populace had

gathered to express grief at the calamity which they supposed had come

upon them; but when they saw their beloved king, safe and sound, they

were beside themselves with joy and cried: “Praise be to Allah! Our

Caliph lives!”

After they had shouted thus until they were exhausted, the king found

voice to ask who it was that had killed the dragon. Upon this the

people came forward, one by one, each claiming to have accomplished the

brave feat “I killed it, my lord!” cried each one, in turn.

The king knew that this could not be true; but he was so glad to be

alive, that he gave backsheesh to each, even to the cooks. Everybody

received a present who went before the king.

The cooks, noticing that their assistant did not go, said to her: “Why

do you stand here listless? See! all we have presents from the king. Go

and receive one for yourself.”

“I am not of this kingdom. Your sovereign will not receive me,” was the

reply.

“Why should he not receive you?” cried they all. “Surely he will give

you, too, something.”

They continued to urge until the young princess went forward, as the

others had done, and, when she had come near to His Majesty, said to

him, “O, my padisha! it was I who killed your adversary, the dragon.”

But, according to her prediction, the king repulsed her, saying, “How

is that you can claim to have done this thing, seeing that you are not

of my people?”

“My padisha,” answered she, “let me prove the truth of what I say and

the falsehood of that which all these others have said to you. Here is

an ear, which I cut from the head of the monster as soon as he was

dead. Let us go and look at the dragon. You will find that his right

ear has been cut off.”

Accordingly they went, and, behold! it was as the girl had said.

Then the king turned to her and exclaimed, “My son! ask whatever you

will and it shall be given you!”

“My padisha,” was her quiet response, “I ask that Allah may continue

your life unto you.”

“Thou art most courteous, my son; but I desire that thou ask something

for thyself.”

The same request was repeated. A third time the king made his royal

offer; then the supposed youth made answer: “My padisha, I would like

it if you would give to me the maiden in the scarlet robes, who sits

upon a divan in an upper room in your palace.”

“But already I have offered to her many youths—brave as well as

handsome—and she will have none of them. Why do you ask for her? She is

a cruel coquette. In the other rooms, arrayed in black, are my two

other daughters. I will give you one of them.”

But the princess answered: “O, king! my fancy prefers the one in

scarlet raiment. If you will give any to me, let it be this one.”

So the king had no choice. And, since he realized that to the valor of

the one who made the request did he owe his life, he sent a summons;

and the girl who was dressed in scarlet came into his presence and

stood before him, showing deep respect.

“Ai, my daughter!” said the king. “This youth desires to marry you. I

command that you accept him.”

“My honored father,” was the reply. “I pray you give me a little time.

Let me dream over the matter, and, to-morrow, you shall hear the

result.”

This slight request was granted, and the king’s daughter returned to

her own apartment. When night came on and all was still in the palace,

the one who had killed the dragon, stole quietly to her door and

watched through the keyhole, to see what she would do.

The girl, who was arrayed in scarlet, set a golden basin, filled with

various kinds of perfumed waters, in the middle of the floor. Almost

immediately, a dove flew in through the open window, bathed in the

water and turned into a beautiful youth, whom the girl embraced

tenderly; after which the two sat down beside each other.

“Ai, my lord, light of my eyes!” said she. “To-day my father summoned

me into his presence and declared that he would bestow me, in marriage,

upon a youth of mean condition. I persuaded him to give me this night

of grace in which to think upon the matter. In reality, I wished to

consult with you.”

“My princess,” answered the youth, after he had thought for some

minutes, “your father should not expect to marry you to one who is not

willing to do some valiant deed to win your hand. There is a magic

mirror, which the jinns have in charge. No one is capable of securing

it from them. It has often been tried. Now, to-morrow, you must say

that you will marry this presumptuous one, if he will bring you the

magic mirror.”

When morning returned, the youth again took on the form of a dove and

disappeared through the window. After that, the one who had been

watching them went away. She saw, very clearly, that the princess who

wore the scarlet raiment was under an evil enchantment. And her love

for the deluded one was increased by her pity.

The king’s daughter, arrayed all in scarlet, went to her father with

the condition. “Verily, my king!” she said, “in a certain place, where

the jinns have charge of it, is a magic mirror—into which whoever looks

will thenceforth be happy. I would possess this mirror. If the youth

who seeks my hand will bring it to me, then will I marry him.”

Upon this the king summoned the assistant of the cooks and said to her:

“My son, it is as I told you. This foolish daughter is amusing herself.

Now, before she will marry you, she demands that you bring to her a

mirror, the securing of which will entail great danger.”

The reply came without hesitation: “My padisha, let it please you that

I go and bring the mirror unto your daughter.”

The king, assured that this would end the matter, gave most willing

consent. “Let it be so, then!” he replied. “Go and bring it.”

Having obtained royal permission to leave the palace, the supposed

youth went beyond the sight of any, took the magic hairs from her bosom

and rubbed them together. Immediately the horse appeared and was

greeted most gladly.

“O, you beautiful creature! In a certain place, protected by the jinns,

there is a mirror of which I am in need. You, who are so powerful,

bring it to me, I pray!”

“Verily, I would gladly do as you desire, O, my princess! But it is not

permitted me to touch the mirror. I will help you to obtain it for

yourself. But you have much to do. Let me ask that you mount my back.”

This done, they were off like the wind.

After going for some time, they came to a high mountain. Here the horse

stopped quite still, saying: “My princess, I have brought you as far as

is permitted me. Dismount and go to the mountain opposite, where you

will come upon the haunt of the jinns. Observe them carefully. If their

eyes are shut, be assured that they are awake; but, should their eyes

be open, you may believe them asleep. Enter softly. You will see the

mirror hanging above their heads. Secure it, and return to me with all

speed, without once looking behind.”

“Very well,” was the answer, “I will do my best.”

Then she climbed to the top of the mountain indicated, and easily found

the place where lived the jinns. Approaching noiselessly, she saw the

mirror hanging above their heads and noted, carefully, that their eyes

were open. Knowing this to be assurance that they were asleep—although

it required great faith in the word of the horse—she went in boldly,

took the mirror, turned about, and, as soon as she was beyond hearing,

ran toward the horse without once looking behind.

She was no sooner out of the place than the jinns wakened, discovered

their loss, and looked about until they espied the flying figure of the

girl.

“Youth!” they shouted, “bring back our mirror!” And as they said the

words, they rolled down stones that were like a broken mountain for

size.

But the princess, without casting the slightest glance backward, ran

until she reached the side of the horse. As soon as she was upon his

back, he gave a great bound and was off like the wind, leaving the

jinns behind, gnashing their teeth in useless rage.

After a time they two reached the palace, where the princess

dismounted, and the instant her feet touched the ground, the beautiful

coal-black steed vanished. She then entered the palace and went

directly into the presence of the king.

His Majesty was surprised at seeing her, and supposed that she had come

to say that the foolhardy undertaking had been abandoned. But, instead,

after receiving obeisance, these were the words he heard:

“Behold, O, king! I have brought the mirror which you asked of me.”

The king’s amazement was great. He summoned his daughter—who came in,

wearing the same brilliant garments—and said to her: “Look! This youth

has brought the mirror which you requested!”

For the moment the girl was too amazed to speak. However, quickly

recovering herself, she received the mirror, and made still another

request for delay, while turning it about in her hands:

“O, my kingly father! I beg you to grant another night’s dreaming;

during which I may think upon this strange feat. To-morrow shall my

answer be ready.”

“Let it be as you desire,” replied her father. “Take another night in

which to think upon the matter.”

Then the king’s daughter withdrew. The seeming youth, also, made

obeisance and went out from the king’s audience chamber to hide away

from the cooks until evening, when, as before, she stole to the door of

the one to whom had been delivered the mirror, and renewed her watch of

the night previous.

After the golden basin had been placed in the middle of the floor, the

same snow-white dove flew in at the window, alighted in the perfumed

waters, bathed, and came forth a youth—handsome, brave, and strong as a

lion. He embraced the king’s daughter, who said to him:

“O, joy of my heart! light of my eyes! my lord! Sad news have I to

tell. The youth of mean condition went to the home of the jinns and

returned with the mirror you described. I knew of nothing to do, except

to beg my father for another night in which to think upon the matter.

How shall we punish this presumptuous fellow?”

“Aha! then he was able to procure the mirror! But do not let that vex

your soul, my princess! We will ask of him something of which no human

being is capable. In another place, under the charge of the giants, is

a rare and costly diamond. None so large ever has been seen by human

eyes. Request this youth to procure the diamond for you, and when he

has failed you will be free to marry me.” This he said without the

slightest intention of marrying anyone.

During all this, the other princess was listening without. She could

see that the one who had been a bird was not in real earnest. And she

was all the more determined to rescue the maiden who had won her heart

unconsciously.

A little later, as the time came when persons were admitted to the

presence of the king, the scarlet princess approached him and said: “My

father, since this youth who asks my hand has no fortune to offer me,

let him procure something which is very precious. There is, in a

certain place under the charge of the giants, a diamond, the like of

which has never been possessed by mortals. Command that he go forth and

secure that. Then will it not seem strange that he should ask the hand

of one who is the daughter of a king.”

Her father’s judgment was affected by the specious reasoning. He sent

for the supposed youth, and, after receiving his obeisance, said to

him: “My son, the giants have a wonderful diamond in charge, of which

my daughter is very desirous. It is fitting that you bring it to her,

before you receive her hand in marriage.”

With a low bow, “Your orders shall be obeyed, my lord, or I will lose

my life in the attempt,” answered the one who had been summoned. She

then turned and quickly left the palace.

After having gone beyond the sight of any, she took the hairs from her

bosom and rubbed them together; whereupon the beautiful horse appeared

and listened to the request that had been made.

“I will do all that I can,” he made answer. “The real accomplishment of

the undertaking lies with you.”

After the maiden had mounted him, the coal-black creature became like a

fire in the image of Asdar. As he started off, a mighty cloud of dust

arose.

In a little while he had reached the foot of a high mountain, where he

stopped and signified to the princess that she must dismount; after

which he said: “Follow this crooked path until you reach the cave of

the giants. If all is quiet and you see no great eyes gleaming in the

darkness, enter. In the middle of the cave you will see a large stone.

Touch this lightly with the little finger of your left hand, and it

will open so that you will discover the diamond, shining in a great

space within the very center. Put the precious gem in your bosom and

return to me, without stopping. Should you but pause, this will be the

last day of your life. Also, be careful not to waken the giants; for

whatever curse they call down upon you will come true.”

Weighed down with the importance of following these instructions, the

brave young princess set out in the path indicated to her, and soon

came upon the cave inhabited by the giants. Entering, she caused the

stone to open, after the manner described, secured the great, guttering

diamond, and turned to fly back with it.

While she was speeding along, the sleeping giants wakened, discovered

the great stone standing open—which, in her haste, the princess had

neglected to close—found that their most precious treasure had been

stolen, and hastened after the departing figure.

But the flight had been so swift that the giants, being slow at

running, saw that they could not overtake her. Therefore they called

out: “O, divine youth! If you are a boy, may you become a girl! And if

you are a girl, may you, at once, become a boy!”

The swift young figure did not tarry, nor so much as slacken its speed

for a breath. Running up to the waiting and anxious horse, she cried,

gleefully: “Behold! thou valiant helper! Here is that which, without

thee, I could not so much as dreamed of possessing.”

But the horse did not notice the precious thing. “Did I not hear voices

calling after thee, my prince? Have the giants pronounced any strange

thing upon thee? Because, if they have, you never can be rid of it.”

The answer was most joyous: “They did pronounce a most strange thing,

indeed, my deliverer! But not a curse. At last I have the desire of my

heart; the desire of my weeping mother’s heart and the great desire of

my father, the king. I need no longer be ashamed to enter his presence;

since, now, I am really his son! Praise be to Allah, who is gracious to

all!”

At this the horse was delighted, equally with the youth, and replied:

“Verily, my prince—since you are, indeed, a prince—from this time

forth, whatever you may wish, I will do it; without in the least

disappointing you.”

Upon this the delighted pair flew back to the palace, as if upon the

wings of the wind; where, as usual, the coal-black steed immediately

disappeared.

The young prince entered the palace, and, after seeking audience with

the king, presented himself before the throne, made low obeisance, and

announced the success of his journey.

“Here, O, padisha! is the diamond which you have required at my hands.”

The king was dazzled with the magnificence of the great gem. With all

speed he sent for his daughter, to whom he said: “Verily, my child,

this valiant youth has secured the priceless jewel which you demanded.

What new trial of his patience and ardor will you now invent?”

The almost fainting girl responded: “Ai, my father! for the love of

Allah, grant to me one more night. To-morrow, surely, I will give you a

final answer.”

The king permitted himself to be curious concerning the new device

which the heart of his daughter would invent; therefore he answered:

“It is but a day. To-morrow bring me thy answer.”

The princess returned to her room, and the young prince concealed

himself until night came on, when he went to her door to observe what

would come to pass. Everything occurred as on previous evenings. The

snow-white bird, after plunging in the perfumed waters, became a youth,

as beautiful as the moon. The two embraced, after which the princess

cried: “O, my dear harbor of refuge! my lord! The ill conditioned youth

has brought the diamond to-day, as he brought the mirror yesterday.

What will become of us?”

But the young prince smiled at her distress, comforting her with a

caress, and answered:

“Do not be troubled at this, my princess! Since my father is king of

the fairies, can it be impossible for me to find a way out of this

dilemma? In the middle of our pleasure garden stands a crying

pomegranate tree, and near it a laughing bear. The moment any person

approaches the tree, or even stretches out a hand toward its branches,

the tree begins to cry. And when the bear hears the crying of the tree,

he is filled so with delight that he begins to laugh. As a consequence,

no one, except the gardener and the keeper, can go near them.

“To-morrow I will ask my father to command that all the soldiers in his

kingdom take up their arms. I will station them about the tree. Should

this presumptuous youth dare to appear, it will mean instant death to

him.

“When he comes again, announce that you have but one more request. Tell

of the tree and say that you have desired it long. Pride in those two

achievements will disarm his wisdom. He will undertake to gratify you,

and will meet the death which he deserves for having aspired to the

hand of a king’s daughter.”

Later on, at the break of day, a bird flew out of the window and did

not pause until it had reached the pleasure garden of the king of the

fairies. There, turning into his rightful form and appearing as prince

of the fairies, he commanded all the soldiers of the kingdom to take up

their arms. Then he set them to watch about the pomegranate tree.

Let us come again to the scarlet princess.

Early in the day she entered the audience chamber of her father and

approached him, saying: “O, my king! In the pleasure garden of a

certain palace stands a weeping pomegranate tree, and beside it is a

laughing bear. Should this youth be able to grant a third desire of my

heart and bring me the tree, I will be able no longer to deny his suit,

but, assuredly, will marry him.”

Whereupon the king, having already gained much, became desirous of

possessing this most curious object. He summoned the youth and said to

him:

“My son, in the pleasure garden of the king of the fairies stands a

weeping pomegranate tree, and beside it a laughing bear. If, for her

sake, you will bring this tree to me, then will I give my daughter to

you with my own hand.”

To which the young prince made modest answer: “Verily, O, king! the

other requests have I fulfilled. If Allah grant wisdom and strength, I

will bring you, also, this tree.”

Thereupon he took leave of the king and went without the palace. When

quite alone he rubbed together the hairs which were wont to bring the

horse to his aid. Immediately the beautiful creature appeared and asked

the prince what he desired.

This third request of the princess and her father was repeated, to

which the horse made answer: “My master, the accomplishment of this

feat will be somewhat difficult. Nevertheless, if need be, let my life

be given for your happiness—for, should you fail, it will mean death to

me. But you have lacked neither discretion nor valor in preceding

trials. Come! let us see what can be brought about.”

The prince mounted, and, like Asdar, emitting flames from mouth and

nostrils, the horse flew upon his way.

After going for some time, they entered another country, where they

came upon three children who were disputing, bitterly, over their

inheritance, which consisted of a goatskin, a cap, a whip, and an

arrow.

The horse came to a halt and said: “These articles are very necessary

to us, O, prince! See if you can persuade the children to yield them to

you.”

The prince went up to the three. “Children,” he said, “why are you

quarreling thus? Would you have me divide the articles between you?”

“Yes, yes!” cried all three.

Taking the arrow, he said: “Look! I will throw this. Whichever of you

brings it first, shall have the inheritance.”

All agreed to this proposition of the young stranger.

Then the prince threw the arrow with all the strength of his arm; and,

while the children ran off in search of it, he laid three gold pieces

for each child upon the ground, took the skin, the cap, the whip,

remounted the horse, and again was upon his way.

When the children returned and found the gold, they rejoiced greatly.

After going and going, the horse came to the palace of the fairy king,

when he said: “My prince—who art now, indeed, a prince—put on the cap,

mount upon the goatskin, and strike it with the whip. Thereupon you

will arise in the air and descend in the garden, where stands the tree

we have come to seek. With one motion you must pull it up by the roots

and immediately bring it to me.”

The prince did as directed. After he had struck the goatskin, he became

invisible. He arose into the air, sailed slowly until above the garden,

when the skin began to descend.

When his feet touched the marble stones he decided to enter the palace,

where great was his surprise to see the girl with the scarlet clothing,

sitting beside the one who had been a bird the night before.

The newcomer was still invisible; so, approaching, he sat down beside

them. After a little, dinner was brought. While those two were eating,

their invisible guest, being very hungry, sat upon the other side of

the table and ate with them. They were surprised to see the food

disappear from the other side of the platter.

“Princess,” exclaimed the fairy prince, “my portion is in front of me;

yours is before you; but whose is the other?”

And they were lost in astonishment.

When the meal was over, they sat down upon the divan which stood before

the window.

Now, the scarlet-robed princess had given an embroidered handkerchief

to the fairy prince, which the invisible prince took from the divan and

hid in his bosom.

When the two discovered that it was gone, they began searching for it.

Everywhere in the room they looked; but nowhere could it be found.

The invisible prince then remounted the goatskin, struck it with his

whip, mounted into the air, and sailed out of the window. By this time

it was night. As the prince reached the point directly above the

pomegranate tree, he seized and pulled it up by the roots.

At this the tree began to cry; and the bear, delighted with the misery

of the tree, began to laugh with all its might. So the brave prince

suddenly thought that he would like the bear as well. Seizing hold of

that with his other hand, he ascended into the sky bearing them both.

Within, from the window, the fairy prince and the scarlet-clothed

princess saw the tree and the bear ascending, as if without hands. In

great frenzy they called to the soldiers:

“Strike! Stand not still!”

And the soldiers, seeing no one whom to attack, became confused and

fought one with another. They believed, in the dim light, that an enemy

had come upon them. During it all, the two stood at the window,

helpless. When they saw the tree disappear, they exclaimed:

“Alas! Alas!”

Then the fairy prince said to the maiden: “It must be he who took the

handkerchief you gave me. Now, he has taken the weeping tree. I am

become helpless. No longer will I hold you from one so valorous. Marry

whom you will!”

“This strange youth has become my fate,” replied the princess.

She went out, mounted her camel, and rode to her father’s palace, where

she entered his presence and stood before him with the greatest

respect.

Let us come again to the prince.

After securing the tree and the bear, he returned to the horse,

remounted, and set off for the palace; where he alighted, entered the

presence of the king, and set down before him the pomegranate tree,

which had been crying all the time. The bear, also, came following

behind, laughing merrily at the discomfiture of the tree.

Bowing three times, the prince then straightened himself to his full

height. “Behold, O, king; this third object which has been asked of

me!”

The king was amused and gratified. He descended from his throne to

greet the prince, and cried: “Bravo, my son! You have done exceedingly

well. To whom should I give my daughter if not to the one who saved my

life from the dragon, who brought the magic mirror, the precious

diamond, and who now has added an endless source of amusement by

bringing this tree and the bear?”

Then the scarlet-clothed princess drew near, fell upon her knees before

her father, and confessed that she had been enchanted by the fairies.

She begged her father’s forgiveness for having listened to their

approaches, thus giving them power over her. She protested that the

spell was broken; that the courage and patience of a true, human prince

had won her heart.

So the two were married. And the festivities continued forty days and

nights, during which the young husband revealed his own station to all

who were at the wedding. Upon the forty-first day he took his princess,

and set out for the palace of his own father with a retinue. When this

was reached, he left his wife and servants without and went within, to

seek his mother, the queen.

Great was the joy of those two at meeting. It seemed that they never

could lose their embrace. Finally, the queen led her newly found child

to the king, where he related all the wonders that had been wrought for

him.

The king commanded that the princess be brought. The two were married

again, according to the rites of the kingdom, and another festival of

forty days and nights was celebrated.

After that, the prince went away one day, rubbed the three hairs, and,

when the beautiful steed appeared, fell upon his neck, weeping tears of

gratitude and sorrow.

“I return to thee these hairs,” he said, “O, most noble and unselfish

creature! Without thy aid I could not have accomplished my happiness,

neither that of my adored mother, nor of my honored father. I will not

keep the talisman, fearing that some evil person may come into

possession of them and ask ignoble things of you, who are most noble.

Go! and may Allah be praised for your services!”

When the prince returned he sat by himself during the remainder of the

day, in deep meditation and grief. But when the evening meal was

brought, he permitted his wife and mother to win him from his sad

thoughts.

So they all lived happily ever after.

STORY OF THE BIRD OF AFFLICTION

The tellers of stories say that, once upon a time, there lived a king

who was wise and just. And this king had a daughter who was so very

fond of the dowager queen that she was always to be found in her

company.

One day, during hour after hour, the queen sat lost in thought. At

length, the princess approached and asked of what she was thinking.

“O, my child!” the queen replied, “I have an affliction. It is upon

that I am thinking.”

“O, queen mother!” again asked the princess, “what is this that you

call an affliction? Will you not buy one for me, also, that I may be

permitted to sit beside you and meditate in your company?”

“If thou so desire. But, first, I must provide myself with money.”

Then the princess made haste to lay all that she possessed before the

queen, who, taking five or six pounds of the gold, went to the market

and purchased a bird of affliction. The slave who accompanied her bore

it to the palace, when the queen called the young girl and delivered it

to her, saying:

“Here, my princess, is a bird of affliction. It is yours. Take it.”

The princess found great pleasure in the bird. Both day and night she

played with it. After a few days, with her maids, she went to a great

pleasure garden. The bird was taken with them, and when they reached

the head of the fountains its cage was hung upon the limb of a tree.

Presently the bird began to talk. It said: “Ai, sultana, will you not

let me out for a little? I would fly about and look at the country with

the other birds. I will return to you.”

The princess, being truthful herself, had not learned to doubt those

whom she loved. She believed the bird, opened the door of his cage, and

let him go forth. After about two hours, while the maids were amusing

themselves in a distant corner of the garden and the maiden was

enjoying herself alone, watching the sparkling waters of the fountain,

the bird returned. She greeted him joyfully and held out her hand that

he might alight upon it.

The bird came nearer, suddenly turned into a jinn, laid rough hold upon

her, and carried her off.

After a flight of two hours, he left her upon the top of a very high

mountain. And as he disappeared, he cried: “There! have you learned

what an affliction is? Wait and see others of the same sort which I

shall bring to you!” So saying, he turned into a column of air and

disappeared.

When she had recovered from her terror, the princess looked about her.

All was barren and desolate. She began to wander about in the hope of

discovering some signs of life. Hungry and forlorn, she wandered day

after day, until, finally, meeting a shepherd, she said to him: “Good

shepherd, if you will give me the clothes you have on, I will give you

these silk ones, with all my ornaments.”

The shepherd agreed to do so. The princess then retired within some

encircling rocks, and when the shepherd’s clothes were thrown over to

her, took her own off and tossed them without. Then dressing herself in

the coarse garments, and tucking her hair under her cap, she set out to

continue her wandering.

After going a long way, she came to the far outskirts of a town. The

first building she reached was a coffeehouse, which she entered, and

said to the owner, “Father, will you take me as an apprentice?”

The coffee-maker, being a little short-sighted, looked at her

attentively, then answered that he had been desirous of a helper and

engaged her at once.

Time passed, and all went well until, one day, the coffee-maker said to

his apprentice: “I am going home to-night. Do you sleep in the

coffeehouse. Do not let anyone steal the goods. Take care of

everything!” Having thus commanded, he went away.

When it became quite dark, the lonely girl locked the coffeehouse and

lay down in a corner. After a time she persuaded herself that there was

no cause for fear, and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, while

deep sleep held her senses, the bird which the queen dowager had

purchased in the market entered, and broke all the nargilehs

(water-smoking pipes) and all the cups that were in the place, into

little bits. Then he went up to the girl and wakened her roughly.

What did she see? Everything that had been in the coffeehouse when she

went to sleep was destroyed. Seized with terror, she covered her eyes

with her hands to shut out the unhappy sight.

But the bird rejoiced at her misery, and cried out, with glee: “There,

do you see? Only wait a little longer. Then you will behold other

afflictions of the same sort. They are upon the way to you!” So saying,

he flew off.

All the remainder of the night the poor girl sat in her corner in dread

of the morrow. When morning came she was racking her mind to find an

answer, to give the master when he should come and question her about

the matter.