The king had a grand vizier, who was avaricious, envious, and by

nature capable of every species of crime. He observed, not without

pain, the presents which had been bestowed upon the physician, whose

great character and merit he was determined to lessen and destroy in

the mind of the king. To accomplish this, he went to him, and said

in private, that he had some intelligence of the greatest moment to

communicate. The king asked him what it was. “Sire,” replied he,

“it is very dangerous for a monarch to place any confidence in a

man, of whose fidelity he is not assured. In overwhelming the

physician Douban with your favors, and bestowing all this kindness

and regard upon him, you are ignorant that he is a traitor, who has

introduced himself to the court, in order to assassinate you.”

--“What is this you dare tell me?” answered the king,

“Recollect to whom you speak, and that you advance an assertion

which I shall not easily give credit to.”--“Sire,” added the

vizier, “I am accurately informed of what I have the honor to

represent to you; do not, therefore, continue to repose such a

dangerous confidence in him. If your majesty is, as it were, in a

dream, it is time to awake; for I again repeat, that the physician

Douban has not travelled from the farther part of Greece, his own

country, but for the horrible design I have mentioned.”

“No, no, vizier,” interrupted the king, “I am sure this man,

whom you consider as an hypocrite and traitor, is one of the most

virtuous and best of men; there is no one in the world whom I regard

so much. You know by what remedy, or rather by what miracle, he

cured me of my leprosy; and if he had sought my life, why did he

thus save it. Cease then from endeavouring to instil unjust

suspicions, for instead of listening to them, I now inform you, that

from this very day I bestow upon him a pension of one thousand

sequins a month, for the rest of his life. And were I to share all

my riches, and even my kingdoms with him, I could never sufficiently

repay what he has done for me. I see what it is; his virtue excites

your envy; but do not suppose that I shall suffer myself to be

prejudiced against him unjustly. I well remember what a vizier said

to king Sindbad, his master, to prevent his giving orders for the

death of his son.”

This very much excited the curiosity of the vizier. “I beg your

majesty will pardon me, if I have the boldness to ask you what it

was that the vizier of king Sindbad said to his master, in order to

avert the death of his son.” The Greek king had the complaisance

to satisfy him. “This vizier,” added he, “after having

represented to king Sindbad, that he ought to hesitate to do a thing

which was founded on the suggestion of a mother-in-law, for fear she

should repent, related the following story.”

THE HISTORY

OF THE HUSBAND AND THE PARROT.

There lived once a good man who had a beautiful wife, of whom he was

so passionately fond, that he could scarcely bear to have her out of

his sight. One day when some particular business obliged him to

leave her, he went to a place where they sold all sorts of birds; he

purchased a parrot, which was not only highly accomplished in the

art of talking, but also possessed the rare gift of telling every

thing that was done in its presence. The husband took it home in a

cage to his wife, and begged of her to keep it in her chamber, and

take great care of it during his absence; after this he set out on

his journey.

On his return he did not fail to interrogate the parrot on what had

passed while he was away; and the bird very expertly related a few

circumstances, which occasioned the husband to reprimand his wife.

She supposed that some of her slaves had exposed her, but they all

assured her they were faithful, and agreed in charging the parrot

with the crime. Desirous of being convinced of the truth of this

matter, the wife devised a method of quieting the suspicions of her

husband, and at the same time of revenging herself on the parrot, if

he were the culprit. The next time the husband was absent, she

ordered one of her slaves, during the night, to turn a handmill

under the bird’s cage, and another to throw water over it like

rain, and a third to wave a looking-glass before the parrot by the

light of a candle. The slaves were employed the greatest part of the

night in doing what their mistress had ordered them, and succeeded

to her satisfaction.

The following day, when the husband returned, he again applied to

the parrot to be informed of what had taken place. The bird replied,

“My dear master, the lightning, the thunder, and the rain, have so

disturbed me the whole night, that I cannot tell you how much I have

suffered.” The husband, who knew there had been no storm that

night, became convinced that the parrot did not always relate facts;

and that having told an untruth in this particular, he had also

deceived him with respect to his wife: being therefore extremely

enraged with it, he took the bird out of the cage, and dashing it on

the floor, killed it: he, however, afterwards learnt from his

neighbours, that the poor parrot had told no story of the conduct of

his wife, which made him repent of having destroyed it.

“When the Greek king,” said the fisherman to the Genius, “had

finished the story of the parrot, he added, “You, vizier, through

envy of Douban, who has done you no evil, wish me to order his

death, but I will take good care, lest, like the husband who killed

his parrot, I should afterwards repent.”

The vizier was too desirous of the death of Douban to let it rest

here. “Sire,” replied he, “the loss of the parrot was of

little importance, nor do I think his master could long have

regretted it. But on what account should the dread of oppressing the

innocent prevent you from destroying this physician. Is it not a

sufficient reason that he is accused of attempting your life to

authorise you to take away his? When the life of a king is in

question, a bare suspicion ought to be equal to a certainty; and it

is better to sacrifice the innocent than save the guilty. But this,

Sire, by no means rests on an uncertainty. The physician Douban

positively wishes to assassinate you. It is not envy that makes me

hostile to him, it is the interest alone that I take in your

majesty’s preservation; it is my zeal, which induces me to give my

advice on so important an occasion. If my information is false, I

deserve the same punishment that a certain vizier underwent

formerly.”--“What had that vizier done, worthy of

chastisement?” said the Greek king.--“I will tell your

majesty,” answered the vizier, “if you will have the goodness to

listen.”

THE HISTORY

OF THE VIZIER, WHO WAS PUNISHED.

There was formerly a king, whose son was passionately fond of

hunting. His father, therefore, often indulged him in this

diversion; but at the same time gave positive orders to his grand

vizier always to accompany, and never lose sight of him.

One hunting morning, the prickers roused a stag, and the prince set

off in pursuit, thinking the vizier followed him. He galloped so

long, and his eagerness carried him so far, that he at last found

himself quite alone. He immediately stopped, and observing that he

had lost his way, he endeavoured to return back by the same, in

order to join the vizier, who had not been sufficiently attentive in

following him. He was, however, unable to find it; and riding about

on all sides, without getting into the right track, he by chance met

a lady, not ill made, who was weeping most bitterly. The prince

immediately checked his horse, and inquired of her who she was, what

she did alone in that place, and whether he could assist her. “I

am,” she answered, “the daughter of an Indian king. In riding

out into the country, I was overcome with sleep, and fell from my

horse. He has run away, and I know not what has become of him.”

The young prince was sorry for her misfortune, and proposed to take

her up behind him, which she accepted.

As they passed by an old ruined building, the lady made some excuse

to alight; the prince therefore stopped, and suffered her to get

down. He also alighted, and walked towards the building, holding his

horse by the bridle. Imagine then what was his astonishment, when he

heard the female pronounce these words from within the walls,

“_Rejoice, my children, I have brought you a very nice fat

youth_.” And directly afterwards other voices answered, “_Where

is he mama? Let us eat him instantly, for we are very hungry_.”

The prince had heard enough to convince him of the danger he was in:

he plainly perceived, that she, who represented herself as the

daughter of an Indian king, was no other than the wife of one of

those savage demons, called Ogres, who live in desert places, and

make use of a thousand wiles to surprise and devour the unfortunate

passengers. He trembled with fear, and instantly mounted his horse.

The pretended princess at that moment made her appearance, and

finding she had failed in her scheme, “Do not be afraid,” she

cried, “but tell me who you are, and what you are looking for?”

--“I have lost my way,” he replied, “and am endeavouring to

find it.”--“If you are lost,” she said, “recommend yourself

to God, and he will deliver you from your difficulty.”

The young prince could not believe that she spoke sincerely, but

that she considered him as already within her power; he lifted up

his hands therefore towards Heaven, and said, “Cast thine eyes

upon me, O all powerful Lord, and deliver me from this mine

enemy!” At this prayer, the Ogre went back to the ruin, and the

prince rode off as fast as possible. He fortunately discovered the

right road, and arrived safely at home, and related to his father,

word for word, the great danger he had encountered, through the

neglect of the grand vizier. The king was so enraged at him, that he

ordered this minister to be instantly strangled.

“Sire,” continued the vizier of the Greek king, “to return to

the physician Douban; if you do not take care, the confidence you

place in him will turn out unfortunate. I well know, that he is a

spy, sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty’s life. He has

cured you, you say, but who can tell that? He has perhaps only cured

you in appearance, and not radically; and who can tell, whether this

remedy, in the end, will not produce the most pernicious effects?”

The Greek king was naturally rather weak, and had not penetration

enough to discover the wicked intention of his vizier, nor

sufficient firmness to persist in his first opinion. This

conversation staggered him. “You are right, vizier,” said he,

“he may be come for the express purpose of taking my life, which

he can easily accomplish, even by the mere smell of some of his

drugs. We must consider what is to be done in this conjuncture!”

When the vizier perceived the king in the disposition be wished, he

said to him, “The best and most certain means, Sire, to ensure

your repose, and put your person in safety, is instantly to send to

Douban, and on his appearance, order him to be beheaded.”

--“Indeed,” replied the king, “I think I ought to prevent his

designs.”--Having said this, he called one of his officers, and

ordered him to find the physician, who, without knowing what the

king wished, hastened to the palace.

“Knowest thou,” said the king, as soon as he saw him, “why I

sent for thee here?”--“No, Sire,” answered Douban, “and I

wait till your majesty pleases to instruct me.”--“I have

ordered thee to come,” replied the king, “to free myself from

thy snares, by taking thy life.”

It is impossible to express the astonishment of Douban, at hearing

the sentence of his death. “For what reason, Sire,” replied he,

“does your majesty condemn me to death? What crime have I been

guilty of?”--“I have been well informed,” added the king,

“that you are a spy, and that you have come to my court in order

to take away my life; but to prevent that, I will first deprive you

of yours. Strike,” added he to an officer who was by, “and

deliver me from a treacherous wretch who has introduced himself here

only to assassinate me.”

At hearing this, the physician began to think, that the honours and

riches which had been heaped upon him, had excited some enemies

against him, and that the king, through weakness, had suffered

himself to be guided by them, nor was he wrong. He began to repent

having cured him; but that came too late. “Is it thus,” he

cried, “that you recompense the good I have done you?”--The

king, however, paid no attention, and desired the officer, a second

time, to execute his orders. The physician had then recourse to

prayers. “Ah, Sire,” he cried, “if you prolong my life, God

will prolong yours; do not kill me, lest God should treat you in the

same manner.”

“You see then,” said the fisherman, breaking off his story in

this place, and addressing himself to the Genius, “that what has

passed between the Greek king and the physician Douban is exactly

the same as what has happened between us.

“The Greek king, however,” continued he, “instead of regarding

the entreaties the physician urged in conjuring him, in the name of

God, to relent, exclaimed, “No, no, you must die, or you will take

away my life in a still more concealed manner than you have cured

me.” Douban, in the mean time, bathed in tears, complained much at

finding his important services so ill requited; and at last prepared

for death. The officer then put a bandage over his eyes, tied his

hands, and was going to draw his scimitar. The courtiers, however,

who were present, felt so much for him, that they entreated the king

to pardon him, assuring his majesty he was not guilty, and that they

would answer for his innocence. But the king was inflexible, and

spoke so peremptorily, they dared not reply.

The physician being on his knees, his eyes bandaged, and ready to

receive the stroke that was to terminate his existence, once more

addressed the king; “Since your majesty, Sire, wishes not to

revoke the order for my death, I entreat you at least to give me

leave to return home, to arrange my funeral, take a last farewell of

my family, bestow some charity, and leave my books to those who will

know how to make a good use of them. There is one among them which I

wish to make a present to your majesty. It is a very rare and

curious work, and worthy of being kept even in your treasury with

the greatest care.”--“What book can there be,” replied the

king, “so valuable as you mention?”--“Sire,” answered the

physician, “it contains things of the most curious nature, and one

of the principal is, that, when my head shall be cut off, if your

majesty will take the trouble to open the book at the sixth leaf,

and read the third line on the left-hand page, my head will answer

every question you wish to ask.” The king was so desirous of

seeing such a wonderful thing, that he put off his death till the

next day, and sent him home under a strong guard.

The physician then arranged all his affairs, and as the news got

abroad that an unheard-of prodigy was to happen after his execution,

the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, in short all the court,

flocked the next day to the hall of audience, to witness such an

extraordinary event.

Douban, the physician, appeared directly after, and advanced to the

foot of the throne with a very large volume in his hand. He then

placed it on a vase, and unfolded the cover in which the book was

wrapt; and in presenting it, he thus addressed the king: “If it be

your pleasure, Sire, receive this book; and as soon as my head shall

be struck off, order one of your officers to place it on the vase

upon the cover of the book; as soon as it is there the blood will

cease to flow; then open the book, and my head shall answer all your

questions. But, Sire,” added Douban, “permit me once more to

implore your mercy. Consider, I beg of you, in the name of God, that

I protest to you that I am innocent.”--“Thy prayers,”

answered the king, “are useless, and were it only to hear your

head speak after your death, I would wish for your execution.” In

saying this; he took the book from the hands of the physician, and

ordered the officer to do his duty.

The head was so adroitly cut off, that it fell into the vase, and it

had hardly been on the cover an instant before the blood stopt.

Then, to the astonishment of the king and all the spectators, it

opened its eyes, and said, “Will your majesty now open the

book?” The king did so, and finding that the leaf stuck to the

second, he put his finger to his mouth, and moistened it, in order

to turn it over more easily. He went on doing so till he came to the

sixth leaf; and observing nothing written upon the appointed page,

“Physician,” said he to the head, “there is no writing.”

--“Turn over then a few more leaves,” replied the head. The king

continued turning them over, still putting his finger frequently to

his mouth, till the poison, in which each leaf had been dipped,

began to produce its effect. The prince then felt himself suddenly

agitated in a most extraordinary manner; his sight failed him, and

he fell at the foot of the throne in the greatest convulsions.

When the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the poison

had taken effect, and that the king had only a few moments to live,

“Tyrant,” he exclaimed, “behold how those princes are treated,

who abuse their power, and sacrifice the innocent. God, sooner or

later, punishes their injustice and their cruelty.” The head had

no sooner repeated those words, than the king expired; and at the

same time the small portion of life that remained in the head

itself, was wasted.

“Such, Sire,” continued Scheherazadè, “was the end of the

Greek king and the physician Douban. I shall now return to the

fisherman and the Genius.

As soon as the fisherman had finished the history of the Greek king

and the physician Douban, he applied it to the Genius, whom he still

kept confined in the vase. “If,” said he, “the Greek king had

permitted Douban to live, God would also have bestowed the same

benefit on him: but he rejected the humble prayers of the physician.

God, therefore, punished him. This, O Genius, is the case with you.

If I had been able to make you relent, and could have obtained the

favor I asked of you, I should have pitied the state in which you

now are: but since you persisted in your determination to kill me,

in spite of the obligation you were under to me for setting you at

liberty, I ought, in my turn, to shew no mercy. In leaving you

within this vase, and casting you into the sea, I shall deprive you

of the use of your existence till the end of time. This is the

revenge I have been taught by you.”

“Once more, my good friend,” replied the Genius, “I entreat

you not to be guilty of so cruel an act; remember that revenge is

not a part of virtue; on the contrary, it is praise-worthy to return

good for evil. Do not then serve me as Imma formerly treated

Ateca.”--“And how was that?” asked the fisherman. “If you

wish to be informed of it, open this vase,” answered the Genius,

“do you think that I am in the humour, while confined in this

narrow prison, to relate stories? I will tell you as many as you

please when you shall have let me out.”--“No, no,” said the

fisherman, “I will not release you; it is better for me to cast

you to the bottom of the sea.”--“One word more, fisherman,”

cried the Genius: “I will teach you how to become as rich as

possible.”

The hope of being no longer in want at once disarmed the fisherman.

“I would listen to you,” he cried, “if I had the least ground

to believe you; swear to me, by the great name of God, that you will

faithfully observe what you say, and I will open the vase. I do not

believe that you will be sufficiently bold to violate such an

oath.” The Genius did so; and the fisherman immediately took off

the covering. The smoke instantly issued from it, and the first

thing the Genius did, after he had reassumed his usual form, was to

kick the vase into the sea: this action rather alarmed the

fisherman. “What do you mean, O Genius, by this; do you not intend

to keep the oath you have taken? Or must I address the same words to

you which the physician Douban did to the Greek king? “_Suffer me

to live, and God will prolong your days._”

The fear expressed by him made the Genius laugh; “Be of good

heart, fisherman,” answered he, “I have thrown the vase into the

sea only for diversion, and to see whether you would be alarmed: but

to shew you that I intend to keep my word, take your nets and follow

me.” They passed by the city and went over the top of a mountain,

from whence they descended into a vast plain, which led them to a

pond situated between four small hills.

When they were arrived on the borders of the pond, the Genius said

to the fisherman, “Throw your nets, and catch fish.” The

fisherman did not doubt that he should take some, for he saw a great

quantity in the pond; but how great was his surprise at finding them

of four different colours; white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw

his nets and caught four, one of each colour. As he had never seen

any similar to them, he could hardly cease admiring them, and

judging that he could dispose of them for a considerable sum, he

expressed great joy. “Carry these fish to the palace,” said the

Genius, “and present them to the sultan, and he will give you more

money than you ever handled in all your life. You may come every day

and fish in this pond, but observe and throw your nets only once

each day; if you act otherwise, some evil will befal you, therefore

take care. This is my advice, and if you follow it exactly you will

do well.” Having said this, he struck his foot against the ground,

which opened, and having sunk into it, the earth closed as before.

The fisherman resolved to observe the advice and instructions of the

Genius in every point, and take care never to throw his nets a

second time. He went back to the town very well satisfied with his

success, and making a thousand reflections on his adventure. He went

directly, and presented his fish at the sultan’s palace.

I leave it to your majesty to imagine how much the sultan was

surprised, when he saw the four fish brought him by the fisherman.

He took them one by one, and observed them most attentively; and

after admiring them a long time, he said to his first vizier,

“Take these fish, and carry them to that excellent cook, which the

emperor of the Greeks sent me; I think they must be equally good as

they are beautiful.”

The vizier took them, and delivered them himself into the hands of

the cook. “Here are four fish,” said he, “which have been

presented to the sultan; he commands you to dress them.” He then

returned to the sultan, his master, who desired him to give the

fisherman four hundred pieces of gold, which he faithfully executed.

The fisherman, who was never before in possession of so large a sum

of money at once, could not conceal his joy; and thought it all a

dream. He soon, however, proved it to be a reality, by the good

purpose to which he applied the gold, in relieving the wants of his

family.

“We must now, Sire (continued Scheherazadè) give some account of

what passed in the sultan’s kitchen, which we shall find in great

confusion and difficulty. As soon as the cook had cleaned the fish

which the vizier had brought, she put them in a vessel with some oil

over the fire to fry. When she thought they were sufficiently done

on one side, she turned them. She had hardly done so, when,

wonderful to relate, the wall of the kitchen appeared to separate,

and a beautiful and majestic young damsel came out of the opening.

She was dressed in a satin robe, embroidered with flowers after the

Egyptian manner, and adorned with ear-rings and a necklace of large

pearls, and gold bracelets, set with rubies; she held a rod of

myrtle in her hand. Approaching the vessel, to the great

astonishment of the cook, who remained motionless at the sight, and

striking one of the fish with her rod, she said, “Fish, fish, art

thou doing thy duty?” The fish answering not a word; she again

repeated it, when the four fish all raised themselves up, and said

very distinctly, “Yes, yes, if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay

your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we conquer, and are content.”

As soon as they had spoken these words, the damsel overturned the

vessel, and went back through the wall, which immediately closed up,

and was in the same state as before.

The cook, whom all these wonders alarmed, having in some measure

recovered from her fright, went to take up the fish which had fallen

upon the hot ashes; but she found them blacker and more burnt than

the coals themselves, and not at all in a state to send to the

sultan. At this she was greatly distressed, and began to cry with

all her might. “Alas,” said she, “what will become of me? I am

sure, when I relate to the sultan what I have seen, that he won’t

believe me. How enraged also will he be with me!”

While she was in this distress, the grand vizier entered, and asked

if the fish were ready. The cook then related all that had taken

place, at which, as we may naturally suppose, he was much

astonished: but without telling the sultan any thing about it, he

invented some excuse, which satisfied him. He then sent directly for

the fisherman; to whom, when he was come, he said, “Bring me four

more fish, like those you brought before, for an accident has

happened, which prevents their being served up to the sultan.” The

fisherman did not tell him what the Genius had strictly advised him

to do; but pleaded the length of the way as an excuse for not being

able to procure any more that day; he promised, however, to bring

them the next morning.

The fisherman, in order to be in time, set out before it was day,

and went to the pond. He threw his nets, and drawing them out, found

four more fish, like those he had taken the day before, each of a

different colour. He returned directly, and brought them to the

grand vizier by the time he had promised. The minister took them,

and carried them into the kitchen, where he shut himself up with

only the cook, who prepared to dress them before him. She put them

on the fire as she had done the others on the preceding day. When

they were dressed on one side, she turned them, and immediately the

wall of the kitchen opened, and the same damsel appeared, with her

myrtle in her hand. She approached the vessel in which the fish

were, and striking one of them, addressed the same words to it she

had before done; when they all raising their heads, made the same

answer. The damsel overturned the vessel with her rod, as she had

done before, and went back through the opening in the wall, where

she had entered. The grand vizier witnessed all that passed, “This

is very surprising,” he cried, “and too extraordinary to be kept

secret from the sultan’s ears. I will myself go and inform him of

this prodigy.” He immediately, therefore, went, and gave an exact

relation of all that had passed.

The sultan was much astonished, and became very anxious to see this

wonder. For this purpose; he again sent for the fisherman,

“Friend,” said he to him, when he came, “canst thou not bring

me four more fish of different colours?”--“If your majesty,”

answered the fisherman, “will grant me three days, I can promise

to do so.” He obtained the time he wished, and went again, for the

third time, to the pond. He was not less successful than before, and

he caught four fish, of different colours, the first time he threw

his nets. He neglected not to carry them directly to the sultan, who

expressed the greater pleasure at seeing them, as he did not expect

them so soon; and he ordered four hundred pieces of money to be

given to the fisherman.

As soon as the sultan had got the fish, he had them taken into his

own cabinet, together with the different things that were necessary

to dress them. Here he shut himself up with the grand vizier, who

began to cook them, and put them on the fire in a proper vessel. As

soon as they were done on one side, he turned them on the other. The

wall of the cabinet immediately opened; but instead of the beautiful

damsel, there appeared a black, who was in the habit of a slave.

This black was very large and gigantic, and held a large green rod

in his hand. He advanced to the vessel, and touching one of the fish

with his rod, he cried out in a terrible tone, “Fish, fish, art

thou doing thy duty?” At these words, the fish lifted up their

heads and answered, “Yes, yes, we are, if you reckon, we reckon;

if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we conquer, and are

content.” The fish had scarcely said this, when the black

overturned the vessel into the middle of the cabinet, and reduced

the fish to the state of cinders. Having done so, he haughtily

retired through the opening of the wall, which instantly closed, and

appeared as perfect as before.

“After what I have seen,” said the sultan to his grand vizier,

“it is in vain for me to think of remaining at ease. It is

certain, that these fish signify something very extraordinary, which

I wish to discover.” He sent for the fisherman, and when he

arrived, he said to him, “The fish thou hast brought me have

caused me great uneasiness; where dost thou catch them?”--“I

caught them, Sire,” answered he, “in a pond, which is situated

in the midst of four small hills, beyond the mountain you may see

from hence.”--“Do you know that pond?” said the sultan to the

vizier.--“No Sire,” answered he, “I have never even heard it

mentioned, though I have hunted in the vicinity of the mountain, and

beyond it, near sixty years.”--The sultan asked the fisherman

about what distance the pond was from the palace; he replied, that

it was not more than three hours journey. With this assurance, as

there was still time to arrive there before night, the sultan

ordered his whole court to get ready, while the fisherman served as

a guide.

They all ascended the mountain, and in going down on the other side,

they were much surprised by the appearance of a large plain, which

no one had ever before remarked. They at length arrived at the pond,

which they found situated exactly among four hills, as the fisherman

had reported. Its water was so transparent, that they remarked all

the fish to be of the same colours as those the fisherman had

brought to the palace.

The sultan halted on the side of the pond; and after observing the

fish with signs of great admiration, he inquired of his emirs, and

all his courtiers, if it could be possible, that they had never seen

this pond, which was so close to the city. They all said, they had

never heard it even mentioned. “Since you all agree then,” said

he, “that you have never heard it spoken of, and since I am not

less astonished than you are at this novelty, I am resolved not to

return to my palace, till I have discovered for what reason this

pond is now placed here, and why there are fish of only four colours

in it.” After having thus spoken, he ordered them to encamp around

it; his own pavilion, and the tents of his immediate household, were

pitched on the borders of the pond.

When the day closed, the sultan retired to his pavilion, and entered

into a particular conversation with his vizier. “My mind,” said

he, “is much disturbed; this pond suddenly placed here, this

black, who appeared to us in my cabinet, these fish too, which we

heard speak; all this so much excites my curiosity, that I cannot

conquer my impatience to be satisfied. It is on this account, that I

am absolutely determined to execute the design I meditate. I shall

go quite alone from my camp, and order you to keep my departure a

profound secret. Remain in my pavilion, and when my emirs and

courtiers present themselves at the entrance to-morrow morning, send

them away, and say I have a slight indisposition, and wish to remain

alone. You will also continue to do so every day till my return.

The grand vizier endeavoured by many arguments to persuade the

sultan not to do as he intended. He represented the great danger to

which he exposed himself, and the unnecessary trouble and

difficulties he might thus encounter, and probably to no purpose.

All his eloquence, however, was exhausted to no effect; the sultan

did not alter his resolution, but prepared to set out. He put on a

proper dress for walking, and armed himself with a sabre; and as

soon as he found that every thing in the camp was quiet, he

departed, unaccompanied by any one.

He bent his course towards one of the small hills, which he ascended

without much difficulty; and the descent on the other side was still

easier. He then pursued his way over a plain, till the sun rose. He

now perceived, in the distance before him, a large building, the

sight of which filled him with joy, from the hopes of being able to

gain some intelligence of what he wished to know. When he came near,

he remarked, that it was a magnificent palace, or rather a strong

castle, built with polished black marble, and covered with fine

steel, so bright, that it was like a mirror. Delighted with having

so soon met with something, at least, worthy his curiosity, he

stopped opposite the front, and considered it with much attention;

he then advanced towards the folding doors, one of which was open.

Though he might have gone in, he thought it better to knock. At

first, he knocked gently, and waited some time; but finding no one

appear, he thought they might not have heard; he therefore knocked a

second time much louder; still no one came. He redoubled his

efforts, but in vain. At this he was much astonished, as he could

not imagine, that a castle, so well built as that was, could be

deserted. “If there be no person there,” said the sultan to

himself, “I have nothing to fear; and if there be any one, I have

arms to defend myself with.”

At last he entered, and when he was in the vestibule, he called out,

“Is there no one here to receive a stranger, who is in want of

refreshment on his journey?” He repeated it two or three times, as

loud as he could; still there was no answer. This silence increased

his astonishment. He passed on to a very spacious court, and looking

on all sides, he could not discover a living creature. He then

entered, and passed through some large halls, the carpets of which

were of silk, the recesses and sofas entirely covered with the

stuffs of Mecca, and the curtains before the doors of the richest

manufactures of India, embroidered with gold and silver. He went on,

and came to a most wonderful saloon, in the midst of which there was

a large reservoir, with a lion of massive gold at each corner.

Streams of water issued from the mouths of the four lions, and in

falling, appeared to break in a thousand diamonds and pearls, which

formed a good addition to a fountain that sprung from the middle of

the bason, and rose almost to the top of a dome, beautifully painted

in the arabesque style.

The castle was surrounded on three sides by a garden, which was

embellished with all kinds of flowers, fountains, groves, and many

other beauties; but what rendered this spot still more enchanting,

was the multitude of birds, which filled the air with their sweetest

notes. This was their constant habitation, because there were nets

thrown entirely over the trees, which prevented their escape.

The sultan continued walking a long time from one apartment to

another, where every thing was grand and magnificent. Being rather

fatigued, he sat down in an open cabinet, which looked into the

garden. Here he meditated upon all he had seen, or might yet see;

and was reflecting on the different objects, when suddenly a

plaintive voice, accompanied by the most heart-rending cries, struck

his ear. He listened attentively, and distinctly heard these

melancholy words: “O fortune, thou hast not suffered me long to

enjoy my happy lot, but hast rendered me the most wretched of men;

cease, I entreat thee, thus to persecute me, and by a speedy death

put an end to my sufferings! alas, is it possible I can still exist,

after all the torments I have suffered?”

The sultan, much affected by these lamentable complaints,

immediately got up, and went towards the spot, whence they issued.

He came to the entrance of a large hall; he drew the door-curtain

aside, and saw a young man seated upon a sort of throne, raised a

little from the ground. He appeared well made and was very richly

dressed. Sorrow was impressed on his countenance. The sultan

approached and saluted him. The youth returned the compliment by

bending his head very low, but did not rise. “I am sure, Sir,”

said he to the sultan, “I ought to get up to receive you, and shew

you all possible respect, but a most powerful reason prevents me;

you will not therefore, I trust, take it ill.”--“I feel myself

highly honoured, sir,” replied the sultan, by the good opinion you

express of me. Whatever may be your motive for not rising, I

willingly receive your apologies. Attracted by your complaints, and

impelled by your sufferings, I come to offer you my assistance. I

trust I shall be permitted to afford some consolation to you in your

misfortunes, and I will use all my endeavours to do so. I flatter

myself you will not object to relate the history of your sorrows to

me. But, in the first place, I beg of you to inform me, what that

pond, which is near this castle, means, where there are fish of four

different colours: how also this castle came here, and you thus in

it and alone!

Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep

most bitterly. “How inconstant is fortune,” he cried, “she

delights in crushing those whom she has elevated. Who can say they

have ever enjoyed from her a life of calm and pure happiness?”

The sultan, touched with compassion at his situation, requested him

again to relate the cause of such sorrow: “Alas, my lord,”

answered the youth, “can I be otherwise than afflicted, or can

these eyes ever cease from shedding tears?” At these words he

lifted up his robe, and the sultan perceived he was a man only to

his waist, and that from thence to his feet he was changed into

black marble.

You may easily imagine, that the sultan was much surprised, when he

saw the deplorable state of the young man. “What you shew me,”

said he to him, “fills me with horror, but at the same time

excites my curiosity; I am impatient to learn your history, which

must no doubt be very singular; and I am persuaded, that the pond

and the fish have some connexion with it; I entreat you therefore to

relate it, and you may find consolation by doing so; for the unhappy

often experience some relief in communicating their sorrows.”

--“I will not refuse you this satisfaction,” replied the young

man, “although I cannot impart it without renewing the most

poignant grief; but I must forewarn you to prepare your ears and

your mind, nay even your eyes, for what surpasses all conception.”

THE HISTORY

OF THE YOUNG KING OF THE BLACK ISLES.

I must first inform you, (continued he,) that my father, who was

called Mahmoud, was the king of this state. It is the kingdom of the

Black Isles, which takes its name from four small neighbouring

mountains, that were formerly islands; and the capital, where my

father resided, was situated on the spot, which is now occupied by

that pond. You will know how these changes took place, as I proceed

with my history.

The king, my father, died at the age of seventy years. I had no

sooner taken his place than I married, and the person whom I chose

to partake of the royal dignities with me, was my cousin. I had

every reason to be satisfied with the proofs of affection I received

from her, and, on my part, I returned them with equal tenderness.

Our happy union continued for five years, when I began to perceive

that the queen, my cousin, no longer loved me.

One day after dinner, when she was gone to bathe, I felt myself

inclined to sleep, and threw myself on a sofa; two of her women, who

happened to be in the room, seated themselves, one at my head the

other at my feet to fan me, as well for the purpose of refreshing

me, as to keep off the flies, which might have disturbed my

slumbers. They then, supposing me asleep, began to talk softly; but

my eyes were only closed, and I overheard their whole conversation.

“Is it not a pity,” said one of them to the other, “that the

queen does not love our king, who is such an amiable prince.”

--“Surely it is,” replied the other, “and I cannot conceive

why she goes out every night and leaves him; does he not perceive

it?”--“How should he perceive it?” resumed the first; “she

mixes in his drink, every night, the juice of a certain herb, which

makes him sleep all night so profoundly, that she has time to go

wherever she likes; and when at break of day she returns to him, she

awakes him by passing a particular scent under his nose.”

You may judge, my lord, of the surprise which this discourse

occasioned, as well as the sentiments with which it inspired me:

nevertheless I had sufficient command over myself to suppress my

emotions; I pretended to awake without having heard the conversation.

The queen returned from the bath; we supped together, and before we

went to bed she presented me the cup of water, which it was usual

for me to take; but instead of drinking it, I approached a window

that was open, and threw it out without her perceiving me. I then

returned the cup into her own hands, that she might suppose I had

drank the contents. We soon retired to rest, and shortly after,

supposing that I was asleep, although I was not, she got up with so

little precaution, that she said aloud, “Sleep, and mayst thou

never wake more.” She dressed quickly, and left the chamber.

The queen had no sooner quitted me than I got up, and dressed myself

as quickly as possible, and taking my scimitar, I followed her so

closely, that I heard her footsteps just before me, when, regulating

my steps by hers, I walked softly for fear of being heard. She

passed through several doors, which opened by virtue of some magic

words she pronounced; the last she opened was that of the garden,

which she entered. I stopped at this door that she might not see me,

while she crossed a parterre; and following her with my eyes, as

well as the obscurity of the night would permit, I remarked, that

she went into a little wood, the walks of which were enclosed by a

thick hedge. I repaired thither by another way, and hiding myself

behind the hedge of one of the paths, I perceived that she was

walking with a man.

I did not fail to listen attentively to their discourse, when I

heard what follows: “I do not deserve,” said the queen to her

lover, “your reproaches for my want of diligence; you well know

the reason of it; but if all the marks of love which I have hitherto

given you are not sufficient to persuade you of my sincerity, I am

ready to give you still more convincing proofs of it; you have only

to command, you know my power. I will if you wish it, before the sun

rises, change this great city and this beautiful palace into

frightful ruins, which shall be inhabited only by wolves, and owls,

and ravens. Shall I transport all the stones, with which these walls

are so strongly built, beyond Mount Caucasus, and farther than the

boundaries of the habitable world? You have only to speak, and all

this place shall be transformed.”

As the queen finished this speech, she and her lover, having reached

the end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me;

I had already drawn my scimitar, and as the lover was next me, I

struck him on the neck, and he fell. I believed I had killed him,

and with this persuasion, I retired precipitately, without

discovering myself to the queen, whom I wished to spare, as she was

my cousin.

Although her lover’s wound was mortal, she yet contrived by her

enchantments to preserve in him that kind of existence, which can be

called neither dead or alive. As I traversed the garden to return to

the palace, I heard the queen weeping bitterly, and judging of her

grief by her cries, I was not sorry to have left him alive. When I

reached my chamber I went again to bed, and feeling satisfied with

the punishment I had inflicted on the wretch who had offended me, I

fell asleep. On waking the next morning, I found the queen by my

side; I cannot say whether she was asleep or feigned it, but I got

up without disturbing her, and retired to my closet, where I

finished dressing: I afterwards attended the council; and, on my

return, the queen, dressed in mourning, her hair dishevelled and

torn, presented herself before me. “Sire,” said she, “I come

to entreat your majesty not to be displeased at the state in which

you now see me. I have just received intelligence of three events,

which occasion the grief I so strongly feel, but can ill express.”

--“What are these events, madam?” I inquired.--“The death of

the queen, my beloved mother,” replied she; “that of the king,

my father, who was killed in battle; and also of my brother, who

fell down a precipice.”

I was not sorry that she had invented this pretext to conceal the

true cause of her affliction, and I imagined, that she did not

suspect me of having been the murderer of her lover. “Madam,”

said I, “I do not blame your sorrow; on the contrary, I assure you

that I am not insensible to the cause. I should be much surprised if

you were not affected by such a loss; weep, for your tears are an

undoubted proof of your good heart; I hope, nevertheless, that time

and reason will restore to you your wonted cheerfulness.”

She retired to her apartment, where, abandoning herself to her

grief, she passed a whole year in weeping and bewailing the death of

her lover. At the expiration of that time, she requested my

permission to build a mausoleum for herself in the centre of the

palace, where she said she wished to pass the remainder of her days.

I did not refuse her, and she erected a magnificent palace with a

dome, which may be seen from hence, and she called it the Palace of

Tears.

When it was finished, she had her lover removed from the place,

whither she had transported him on the night I wounded him, and

brought to this mausoleum. She had till that period preserved his

life by giving him certain potions, which she administered herself,

and continued to give him daily, after his removal to the Palace of

Tears.

All her enchantments, however, did not avail, for he was not only

unable to walk or stand, but had also lost the use of his speech,

and gave no signs of life, but by looks. Although the queen had only

the consolation of seeing him and saying to him all the tender

things that her love inspired, yet she constantly paid him two long

visits every day. I was well acquainted with this circumstance, but

I pretended to be ignorant of it.

Excited by my curiosity, I went one day to the Palace of Tears, to

know what was the occupation of the princess, and concealing myself

in a part where I could see and hear what passed, I heard her speak

in this manner to her lover: “It is the heaviest affliction to me

to see you in this state; I feel as much as yourself the agonies you

endure; but, dearest life, I am always speaking to you, and yet you

return no answer: how long will this distressing silence continue?

Speak but once, and I will be satisfied. Alas! these moments that I

pass with you, endeavouring to mitigate your sufferings, are the

happiest of my life. I cannot exist away from you, and I should

willingly prefer the pleasure of seeing you continually, to the

empire of the whole universe.”

This discourse, which was frequently interrupted by tears and sobs,

at length exhausted my patience. I could no longer remain in

concealment, and approaching her, “Madam,” said I, “you have

wept enough; it is now time to have done with a grief, which

dishonours us both; you forgot what you owe to me, as well as what

you owe to yourself.”--“Sire,” replied she, “if you still

retain any regard for me, I entreat you to leave me to my sorrows,

which time can neither diminish nor relieve.”

I endeavoured, but in vain, to bring her to a sense of her duty; and

finding that all my arguments only increased her obstinacy, I at

last desisted and left her. She continued to visit her lover every

day; and for two years she was inconsolable.

I went a second time to the Palace of Tears while she was there. I

hid myself as before, and heard her say, “It is now three years

that you have not spoken to me; nor do you return the proofs of

affection and fondness which my complaints and sighs must convince

you I feel: is it from insensibility or disdain? Hast thou, O tomb,

destroyed that excess of tenderness which he bore me? Hast thou

closed for ever those dear eyes which beamed with love and formed

all my pleasure? Ah no, I cannot think it; rather let me say, thou

art become the deposit of the rarest treasure the world ever saw.”

I avow to you, my lord, that I was enraged at these words; for in

truth this cherished lover, this adored mortal, was not at all what

you would imagine. He was a black Indian, one of the original

inhabitants of this country. I was, as I have said, so enraged at

this speech, that I suddenly shewed myself, and addressing myself in

a similar manner to the tomb, I said, “Why dost thou not, O tomb,

swallow up this monster, who is even disgusting to human nature? or

rather, why dost thou not consume both the lover and the mistress?”

I had hardly finished these words, when the queen, who was seated

near the black, started up like a fury, “Ah, wretch!” said she

to me, “it is you who have been the cause of my grief; think not

that I am ignorant of it. I have already dissembled too long. It was

your barbarous hand which reduced the object of my affection to the

miserable state he now is in. And have you the cruelty to come and

insult my despair?” “Yes,” cried I, interrupting her, and

transported with anger, “I have chastised the monster as he

deserved, and I ought to treat thee in the same manner. I repent not

having already done it, for thou hast too long abused my

goodness.” In saying this, I drew my scimitar, and raised my arm

to punish her. “Moderate thy rage,” said she to me with a

disdainful smile, and regarding my motions with a tranquil air, and

at the same instant she pronounced some words which I did not

understand, and added, “By virtue of my enchantments, I command

thee from this moment to become half marble and half man.”

Immediately, my lord, I was changed to what you see me; already dead

among the living, and living among the dead.

As soon as this cruel enchantress, for she is unworthy of bearing

the title of queen, had thus transformed me, and by means of her

magic had conveyed me to this apartment, she destroyed my capital,

which was both flourishing and well inhabited; she annihilated the

palaces, public places, and markets; turned the whole place into a

lake, or pond, and rendered the country, as you may perceive, quite

a desert. The four sorts of fish, which are in the pond, are four

different classes of inhabitants, who professed different religions,

and inhabited the capital. The white were Musselmen; the red,

Persians, who worship fire; the blue, Christians; and the yellow,

Jews; the four little hills were four islands; whence the name of

the kingdom originated. I was informed of all this by the

enchantress, who herself related the effects of her rage. Nor was

even this all; she did not confine her fury to the destruction of my

empire, and to my enchantment, for she comes every day and gives me

a hundred blows with a thong, made of a bull’s hide, upon my

shoulders, from whence she draws blood at every stroke. As soon as

she has finished this punishment, she covers me with a thick stuff,

made of goat’s hair; and puts a robe of rich brocade over it, not

for the sake of honouring, but of mocking me.” In saying this, the

young king of the Black Isles could not refrain from tears; and the

sultan’s heart was so oppressed, he could not offer him any

consolation. The young king then, lifting up his eyes towards

Heaven, exclaimed, “I submit, O powerful Creator of all things, to

thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence. Since it is thy

pleasure, I patiently suffer every evil; yet I trust thy infinite

goodness will one day recompense me.”

“Inform me,” cried the sultan, affected by the recital of so

strange a story, and eager to revenge his injuries, “inform me

where this perfidious enchantress resides, and where also is this

infamous paramour, whom she has entombed before his death. “My

lord,” answered the prince, “he, as I have before mentioned, is

at the Palace of Tears, in a tomb, formed like a dome; and this

palace has a communication with the castle on the side towards the

entrance. I cannot exactly tell you to what spot the enchantress has

retired; but she visits her lover every day at sun-rise, after

having inflicted on me the sanguinary punishment I related: and you

may easily judge, that I cannot defend myself from such great

cruelty. She always brings with her a sort of liquor, which is the

only thing that is able to keep him alive; and she never ceases to

complain of the silence which he has invariably kept since he was

wounded.”

“No one, prince,” replied the sultan, “deserves greater

commisseration than yourself; nor can any one be more sensible of

your misfortune than I am. A more extraordinary fate can never have

happened to any; and they, who may hereafter compose your history,

will be able to relate an event the most surprising of any hitherto

recorded. One thing only is wanting to complete it, and that is for

you to be revenged: nor will I leave any thing untried to accomplish

it.” The sultan having first informed the prince who he was, and

the reason of his entering the castle, consulted with him on the

best means of affording him a just revenge; and a plan occurred to

the sultan, which he directly communicated. They then agreed upon

the steps it was necessary to take, in order to insure success; and

they deferred the execution of the plan till the following day. In

the mean time, as the night was far advanced, the sultan took some

repose. The young prince, as usual, passed his time in continual

watchfulness; for he was unable to sleep since his enchantment: the

hopes, however slight, which he cherished of being soon relieved

from his sufferings constantly occupied his thoughts.

The sultan rose as soon as it was day; and having concealed his robe

and external dress, which might incumber him, he went to the Palace

of Tears. He found it illuminated by a multitude of torches of white

wax; and a delicious perfume issuing from various beautiful golden

vases, regularly arranged, struck his senses. As soon as he

perceived the bed on which the black was laid, he drew his sabre,

and destroyed, without resistance, the little remains of life in

this wretch. He then dragged the body into the court of the castle,

and threw it into a well. Having done this he returned, and laid

down in the black’s place, hiding his sabre under the covering,

and remained there in order to complete what he projected. The

enchantress arrived soon after: her first business was to go into

the apartment where the king of the Black Isles, her husband, was.

She directly stripped him, and, with unexampled barbarity, began to

inflict upon his shoulders the accustomed number of blows. The poor

prince filled the whole building with his cries, and conjured her in

the most pathetic manner to have pity on him: the wretch, however,

ceased not to beat him till she had completed the hundred. “Thou

hadst no compassion on my lover,” said she, “expect therefore

none from me.” As soon as she had finished, she threw the coarse

garment made of goat-skin over him, and then the robe of brocade.

She next went to the Palace of Tears; and, on entering, began to

renew her lamentations. When she approached the couch where she

thought her lover always remained, she exclaimed, “What cruelty to

have thus destroyed the tranquil joy of so tender and fond a

mistress as I am! Cruel prince, thou reproachest me with being

inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment, and has

not thy barbarity far exceeded my revenge? Hast thou not, traitor,

in destroying almost the existence of so adorable an object, equally

destroyed mine? Alas!” added she, addressing herself to the

sultan, whom she took for the black, “will you always, light of my

life, preserve this silence? Are you resolved to let me die without

the consolation of hearing you again declare you love me. Utter, at

least, one word, I conjure you.”

The sultan then, pretending to awake from a profound sleep, and

imitating the language of the blacks, answered the queen in a solemn

tone. “There is no strength or power, but in God alone, who is

all-powerful.” At these words the enchantress, to whom they were

unexpected, gave a violent scream through excess of joy. “My dear

lord,” she exclaimed, “do you deceive me: is what I hear true?

Is it really you who speak?”--“Wretched woman,” replied the

sultan, “are you worthy of an answer?”--“What!” cried the

queen, “do you reproach me?”--“The cries, the tears, the

groans of thy husband,” answered the supposed black, “whom you

every day beat with so much indignity and barbarity, continually

prevent my rest: I should have been cured long since, and recovered

the use of my tongue, if you had disenchanted him. This, and this

only, is the cause of my silence, and of which you so severely

complain.”--“Well then,” said the enchantress, “to satisfy

you, I am ready to do what you command: do you wish him to reassume

his first form?”--“Yes,” replied the sultan, “and hasten to

set him free, that I may no longer be disturbed by his cries.”

The queen immediately went out from the Palace of Tears; and taking

a vessel of water, she pronounced over it some words, which caused

it instantly to boil, as if it had been placed on a fire. She

proceeded to the apartment, where the young king, her husband, was;

“If the creator of all things,” said she, throwing the water

over him, “hath formed thee as thou now art, or if he is angry

with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that state by virtue of

my inchantment, reassume thy natural form, and become the same as

before.” She had hardly concluded, when the prince, recovering his

first shape, rose up with all possible joy, and returned thanks to

God. “Go,” said the enchantress, addressing him, “hasten from

this castle, and never return, lest it should cost you your life.”

--The young king yielded to necessity, and left the queen without

replying a word. He concealed himself in some secure spot, where he

impatiently waited the completion of the sultan’s design, the

commencement of which had been so successful.

The enchantress then returned to the Palace of Tears; and on

entering said to him whom she supposed to be the black, “I have

done, my love, what you ordered me; nothing, therefore, now prevents

your getting up, and affording me the satisfaction I have so long

been deprived of.” The sultan, still imitating the language of the

blacks, answered in rather a sharp tone, “What you have yet done

is not sufficient for my cure. You have destroyed only a part of the

evil: but you must strike at the root.”--“What do you mean by

the root, my amiable black?” answered she.--“What can I

mean,” he cried, “but the city and its inhabitants, and the four

isles, which you have destroyed by your magic? Every day towards

midnight the fish constantly raise their heads out of the pond, and

call for vengeance against us both. This is the real cause of the

delay of my recovery. Go quickly and re-establish every thing in its

former state; and on thy return I will give you my hand, and you

shall assist me in rising.”

The queen, exulting in the expectations these words produced,

joyfully exclaimed, “You shall soon then, my life, recover your

health; for I will instantly go and do what you have commanded.”

In fact she went the very next moment, and when she arrived on the

border of the pond, she took a little water in her hand and

scattered it about. She had no sooner done so, and pronounced

certain words over the fish and the pond, than the city instantly

appeared. The fish became men, women, and children; Mahometans,

Christians, Persians, and Jews; freemen or slaves; in short, each

took his natural form. The houses and shops became filled with

inhabitants, who found every thing in the same situation and order

in which they were previous to the change. The officers and

attendants of the sultan, who were very numerous, and who were

encamped directly where the great place, or square, happened to be,

were astonished at finding themselves on a sudden in the midst of a

large, well-built, and inhabited city.

But to return to the enchantress: as soon as she had completed this

change she hastened back to the Palace of Tears, to enjoy the reward

of her labours. “My dear lord,” she cried on entering, “I am

returned to participate in the pleasure of your renewed health, for

I have done all you have required of me; arise, and give me your

hand.”--“Come near then,” said the sultan, still imitating

the manner of the blacks. She did so. “Nearer still,” he cried.

She obeyed. Then raising himself up, he seized her so suddenly by

the arms, that she had no opportunity of recognizing who it was; and

with one stroke of his sabre, he separated her body in two, which

fell on each side of him. Having done this, he left the carcase in

the same place, and went to seek for the prince of the Black Isles,

who waited with the greatest impatience for him. “Rejoice,

prince,” said he, embracing him, “you have nothing more to fear;

for your cruel enemy no longer exists.”

The young prince thanked the sultan in a way which proved that his

heart was truly penetrated with gratitude; and as a reward, for the

important service he had rendered him, he wished him a long life and

the greatest prosperity. “May you, too, live happily and at peace

in your capital,” replied the sultan to him, “and should you

hereafter have a wish to visit mine, which is so near, I shall

receive you with the truest pleasure; and you shall be as highly

honoured and respected as in your own.”--“Powerful monarch,”

answered the prince, “to whom I am so much indebted, do you think

you are very near your capital?”--“Certainly,” replied the

sultan, “I think so, at least that I am not more than four or five

hours journey.”--“It is a whole year’s journey,” added the

prince, “although I believe you might come here in the time you

mention, because mine was enchanted; but since it is no longer so,

things are changed. This, however, shall not prevent my following

you, were it necessary to go to the very extremity of the earth. You

are my liberator; and to shew you every mark of my gratitude as long

as I live, I shall freely accompany you and resign my kingdom

without regret.”

The sultan was extremely surprised to find that he was so distant

from his dominions, and could not comprehend how it happened; but

the young king of the Black Isles convinced him so fully of the

possibility, that he no longer doubted it.--“It matters not

then,” resumed the sultan; “the trouble of returning to my

dominions will be sufficiently recompensed by the satisfaction

arising from having assisted you, and from having acquired a son in

you; for, as you will do me the honor to accompany me, I shall look

upon you as such; and having no children of my own, I from this

moment make you my heir and successor.”--This interview between

the sultan and the king of the Black Isles was terminated by the

most affectionate embraces; after which the young prince prepared

for his journey. In three weeks he was ready to depart, greatly

regretted by his court and subjects, who received from his hands a

near relation of his as their king.

At length the sultan and the prince set out with a hundred camels

laden with inestimable riches, which had been selected from the

treasury of the young king, who was accompanied by fifty handsome

nobles, well mounted and equipped. Their journey was a pleasant one;

and when the sultan, who had dispatched couriers to give notice of

his arrival, and relate the reason of his delay, drew near to his

capital, the principal officers, whom he had left there, came to

receive him; and to assure him, that his long absence had not

occasioned any change in his empire. The inhabitants, also, crowded

to meet him, and welcome him with acclamations and every

demonstration of joy, which lasted for several days.

The day after his arrival, the sultan assembled his courtiers, and

gave them an ample detail of the occurrences, which, contrary to his

wishes, had delayed his return: he then declared to them his

intention of adopting the king of the four Black Isles, who had left

a large kingdom to accompany and live with him; and at last, to

reward the fidelity with which they served him, he bestowed presents

on all, according to their rank and station.

With regard to the fisherman, as he had been the first cause of the

deliverance of the young prince, the sultan overwhelmed him with

rewards, and made him and his family happy and comfortable for the

rest of their days.

THE HISTORY

OF THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF KINGS, AND OF FIVE LADIES OF BAGDAD.

During the reign of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid there lived at

Bagdad a porter, who, notwithstanding his low and laborious

profession, was nevertheless a man of wit and humour. One morning,

when he was standing with a large basket before him, in a place

where he usually waited for employment, a young lady of a fine

figure, covered with a large muslin veil, came up to him, and said

with a pleasing air, “Porter, take up your basket and follow

me.” The porter, delighted with these few words, pronounced in so

agreeable a manner, put it on his head and went after the lady,

saying, “Oh happy day! Oh happy meeting!”

The lady stopped at a closed door, and knocked. A venerable

Christian, with a long white beard, opened it, and she put some

money into his hands without saying a single word; but the

Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and shortly after

brought out a large jar of excellent wine. “Take this jar,” said

the lady to the porter, “and put it in the basket.” This being

done, she desired him to follow her, and walked on; the porter still

exclaiming, “Oh day of happiness! Oh day of agreeable surprise and

joy!”

The lady stopped at the shop of a seller of fruits and flowers,

where she chose various sorts of apples, apricots, peaches, lemons,

citrons, oranges, myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamine, and some

other sweet-scented flowers and plants. She told the porter to put

all those things in his basket, and follow her. Passing by a

butcher’s shop, she ordered five and twenty pounds of his finest

meat to be weighed, which was also put into the porter’s basket.

At another shop she bought some capers, tarragon, small cucumbers,

parsley, and other herbs, pickled in vinegar: at another, some

pistachios, walnuts, hazel-nuts, almonds, kernels of the pine, and

other similar fruits: at a third she purchased all sorts of almond

patties. The porter, in putting all these things into his basket,

which began to fill it, said; “My good lady, you should have told

me, that you intended buying so many things, and I would have

provided a horse, or rather a camel, to carry them. I shall have

more than I can lift, if you add much to what is already here.”

The lady laughed at this speech, and again desired him to follow her.

She then went into a druggist’s, where she furnished herself with

all sorts of sweet-scented waters, with cloves, nutmeg, pepper,

ginger, a large piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices,

which completely filled the porter’s basket, whom she still

ordered to follow her. He did so, till they arrived at a magnificent

house, the front of which was ornamented with handsome columns, and

at the entrance was a door of ivory. Here they stopped, and the lady

gave a gentle knock at the door. While they waited for it to be

opened, the porter’s mind was filled with a thousand different

thoughts. He was surprised that a lady dressed as this was, should

perform the office of housekeeper, for he conceived it impossible

for her to be a slave. Her air was so noble, that he supposed her

free, if not a person of distinction. He was wishing to ask her some

questions concerning her quality and situation, but just as he was

preparing to speak, another female who opened the door, appeared to

him so beautiful, that he was silent through astonishment, or rather

he was so struck with the brilliancy of her charms, that he was very

near letting his basket and all that was in it fall; so much did

this object make him forget himself. He thought he had never seen

any beauty in his whole life that equalled her who was before him.

The lady who had brought the porter, observed the disturbed state of

his mind, and well knew the cause of it. This discovery diverted

her; and she took so much pleasure in examining the countenance of

the porter, that she forgot the door was open. “Come in,

sister,” said the beautiful portress, “what do you wait for?

Don’t you see that this poor man is so heavily laden he can hardly

bear it?”

As soon as she and the porter were come in, the lady who opened the

door shut it; and all three, after passing through a handsome

vestibule, crossed a very spacious court, surrounded by an open

gallery, or corridor, which communicated with many magnificent

apartments, all on the same floor. At the bottom of this court there

was a sort of cabinet, richly furnished, with a throne of amber in

the middle, supported by four ebony pillars, enriched with diamonds

and pearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with red satin,

relieved by a bordering of Indian gold, of admirable workmanship. In

the middle of the court there was a large basin lined with white

marble, and full of the finest transparent water, which rushed from

the mouth of a lion of gilt bronze.

Although the porter was so laden it did not prevent him from

admiring the magnificence of this house, and the neatness and

regularity with which every thing was arranged; but what principally

attracted his attention, was a third lady, who appeared still more

beautiful than the second, and who was seated on the throne before

mentioned. As soon as she perceived the other two females, she came

down from the throne, and advanced towards them. The porter

conjectured, from the looks and behaviour of the two first ladies,

that this was the principal personage; and he was not mistaken. This

lady was called Zobeidè; she who opened the door was called Safiè,

and the name of the one who had been for the provisions, was Aminè.

“You do not, my dear sisters,” said Zobeidè, accosting the

other two, “perceive that this man is almost fainting under his

load? Why do you not discharge him?” Aminè and Safiè then took

the basket, one before and the other behind; Zobeidè also assisted,

and all three put it on the ground. They then began to empty it, and

when they had done, the agreeable Aminè took out her purse, and

rewarded the porter very liberally. He was well satisfied with what

he received, and was taking up his basket to go, but could not

muster sufficient resolution, so much was he delighted by the sight

of three such rare beauties, who now appeared to him equally

charming; for Aminè had also taken off her veil, and he found her

quite as handsome as the others. The thing that puzzled him most,

was not seeing any man in the house; and yet a great part of the

provisions he brought, such as dried fruits, cakes, and sweetmeats,

were most adapted to those who wish to drink much and feast.

Zobeidè at first thought the porter was waiting to get breath, but

observing him remain a long time, she asked him what he waited for,

and whether he was sufficiently paid. “Give him something more,”

added she, speaking to Aminè, “and let him be satisfied.”

--“Madam,” answered the porter, “it is not that which detains

me; I am already almost too well paid for my trouble. I know very

well that I am guilty of an incivility in staying where I ought not;

but I hope you will have the goodness to pardon it, from the

astonishment I experience in observing no man among three ladies of

such uncommon beauty. A party of ladies without men is as melancholy

and stupid as a party of men without ladies.” To this he added

some pleasantries in proof of what he advanced. He did not forget to

repeat what they say at Bagdad, that there was no comfort at table

unless there were four; and he concluded by saying that as they were

three, they had the greatest want of a fourth.

The ladies laughed heartily at the reasoning of the porter.

Zobeidè, however, then addressed him in a serious manner. “You

carry your fooleries, my friend, a little too far; but though you do

not deserve that I should enter into any explanation with you, I

will at once inform you, that we are three sisters, who arrange all

our affairs so secretly, that no one knows any thing of them. We

have too great reason to fear a discovery to permit us to impart our

arrangements; and an established author whom we have read, says,

_Keep thy own secret, and tell it to no one; for he who reveals a

secret is no longer master of it. If thy own breast cannot contain

thy secret, how can the breast of him to whom you intrust it?_”

“Ladies,” replied the porter, “from your appearance alone I

thought you possessed a singular degree of merit; and I perceive

that I am not mistaken. Although fortune has not been so propitious

to me, as to bring me up to any profession, superior to the one I

follow, yet I have cultivated my mind as much as I was able by

reading books of science and history; and permit me, I entreat, to

say, that I also have read in another a maxim which I have always

happily practised; Conceal your secret, he says, _only from such as

are known to be indiscreet, and who will abuse your confidence; but

make no difficulty in discovering it to prudent men, because they

know how to keep it_. The secret, then, with me is as safe as locked

up in a cabinet, the key of which is lost, and the door sealed.”

Zobeidè saw that the porter was not deficient in cleverness, but

thinking that he was desirous of being at the entertainment they

were going to have, she good-humouredly replied, “You know that we

are preparing to regale ourselves, and you must also know we cannot

do this but at a considerable expense; and it would not be just that

you should partake of the feast without bearing part of the

costs.” The beautiful Safiè was of the same opinion as her

sister. “My friend,” she said to the porter, “have you never

heard the common saying, if you bring something you shall return

with something; if you bring nothing, you shall carry nothing

back?”

The porter would have been obliged to retire in confusion in spite

of his rhetoric, had it not been for Aminè, who took his part very

strongly: “My dear sisters,” she said to Zobeidè and Safiè,

“I entreat you to permit him to remain with us. It is unnecessary

to tell you he will divert us, for you must see he is capable of it.

I assure you that had it not been for his readiness, quickness, and

courage to follow me, I should not have executed so many commissions

in so short a time. Besides, if I were to repeat to you all the

amusing things he said to me on the way, you would not be much

surprised that I am become his advocate.”

At this speech of Aminè’s, the porter in a transport of joy fell

on his knees and kissed the ground at the feet of this charming

female. “My dear lady,” said he, raising himself, “you have

from this moment begun my happiness, and placed it almost at its

summit by so generous an act, for which I can never sufficiently

express my gratitude. In short, ladies,” added he, addressing the

three sisters at once, “do not suppose, because you have done me

so great an honor, that I will abuse it; and that I shall consider

myself as a man who is worthy of it; on the contrary, I shall ever

regard myself as the humblest of your slaves.” In saying this he

wished to return the money he had received, but the grave Zobeidè

ordered him to keep it. “What we have once given,” she said,

“as a recompense to those who have rendered us any service, never

returns. But in agreeing that you should remain with us, it is not

only on condition that you keep the secret we are going to intrust

you with, but we also require, that you shall strictly observe the

rules of propriety and decorum.” While she was speaking, the

beautiful Aminè took off her walking dress, and fastening her robe

to her girdle, in order to be more at liberty to prepare the table,

she placed on it various kinds of meat, and put some bottles of

wine, and several golden cups upon a sideboard. This done, the

ladies seated themselves round the table, and made the porter place

himself by their side, who was delighted beyond measure, at seeing

himself at table with three persons of such extraordinary beauty.

They had scarcely began to eat, when Aminè, who had placed herself

near the buffet, or sideboard, took a bottle and goblet, and poured

some for herself. Having drank the first glass, according to the

Arabian custom, she then poured out one for each of her sisters, who

drank it one after the other. Then filling the same goblet for the

fourth time, she presented it to the porter, who in taking it,

kissed her hand, and before he drank it he sung a song, the meaning

of which was, that as the wind carried with it the odour of any

perfumed spot over which it passed, so the wine, which he was about

to drink, coming from her hand acquired a more exquisite flavour

than it naturally possessed. This song pleased them very much, and

they each sung in their turn. In short the whole company were in

most excellent spirits during the repast, which lasted a long time,

and was accompanied with every thing that could render it agreeable.

The day began to close, when Safiè, in the name of her sisters,

said to the porter, “Arise, and go it; is time to retire.” To

this the porter, not having resolution to quit them, answered,

“Ah, ladies, where would you command me to go in the state I am

in? I am almost beside myself from gazing on you, and the good cheer

you have given me; and I shall never find the way to my own house.

Allow me the night to recover myself in; I will pass it wherever you

please, but less time will not restore me to the state I was in,

when I came here; and even then I doubt I shall leave the better

part of myself behind.”

Aminè again took the part of the porter: “He is right, my

sister,” she exclaimed; “I am convinced of the propriety of his

demand. He has sufficiently diverted us; and if you wish to believe

me, or rather if you love me, I am sure you will suffer him to pass

the evening with us.”--“We cannot refuse any request of yours,

my sister,” replied Zobeidè. “Porter,” she added, addressing

herself to him; “we wish to grant you even this favour, but we

must premise a fresh condition: whatever we may do in your presence,

with respect to yourself or any thing else, take great care that you

do not ask the reason; for in questioning us about things that do

not at all concern you, you may hear what will not please you. Take

care, therefore, and be not too curious in attempting to discover

the motives of our actions.”

“Madam,” replied the porter, “I promise to observe the

conditions with so much exactitude, that you shall have no reason to

reproach me with having infringed them, and even still less to

punish my indiscretion. My tongue shall be motionless; and my eyes

shall be like a mirror, that preserves no part of the objects it

receives.”--“To let you see,” said Zobeidè, with a serious

air, “that what we require of you is not newly established among

us, observe what is written over the door, on the inside.” The

porter went and read these words, which were written in large

letters of gold, whoever talks about what DOES NOT CONCERN HIM,

OFTEN HEARS WHAT DOES not please him! He came back directly, and

said to the three sisters, “I swear to you, ladies, that you shall

not hear me speak a word concerning any thing which does not regard

me, and in which you have any interest.”

This being settled, Aminè brought supper; and when she had lighted

up the hall with numerous candles prepared with aloes and ambergris,

which scattered a very agreeable perfume, and cast a brilliant

light, she seated herself at the table with her sisters and the

porter. They began to eat, drink, sing, and recite verses. The

females took pleasure in making the porter intoxicated, under the

pretence of making him drink to their health. Wit and repartee were

not wanting. They were at length all in the best humour, when they

heard a knocking at the gate. They instantly got up, and all run to

open it; but Safiè, to whom this office more particularly belonged,

was the most active. The other two, seeing her before them, stopped,

and waited till she came back to inform them who could have any

business with them at so late an hour. Safiè soon returned. “A

charming opportunity, my sisters, offers itself to spend great part

of the night very pleasantly, and if you are of the same opinion as

I am, we will not let it escape us. There are three calenders at the

door; at least they appear so by their dress; but what will

doubtless surprise you is, that they are all three blind of the

right eye, and have their heads, beards, and eyebrows shaved. They

say, they are only just arrived at Bagdad, where they have never

been before, and as it is dark, and they knew not where to lodge,

they knocked at our door by chance; and entreat us for the love of

God, to have the charity to take them in. They care not where we put

them, provided they are under cover; and will be satisfied even with

a stable. They are young and well-made and appear to possess some

spirit, but I cannot without laughing, think of their amusing and

uniform figures. Safiè could not indeed refrain from laughing most

heartily at this moment, nor could either her sisters or the porter

do otherwise than join in it. “Shall we,” said she, “let them

come in? It is impossible but that with such men as I have

described, we shall finish the day still better than we begun it.

They will divert us very much, and they will be no expense to us,

since they only ask a lodging for one night, and it is their

intention to leave us as soon as it is day.”

Zobeidè and Aminè made some difficulty in agreeing to the request

of Safiè; and she herself well knew the reason of it: but expressed

so great a desire to have her way, that they could not refuse her.

“Go,” said Zobeidè to her, “and let them come in, but do not

fail to caution them not to speak about what does not concern them,

and make them read the inscription over the inside of the door. At

these words, Safiè joyfully ran to open the door, and soon

returned, accompanied by the three calenders.

On entering they made a low bow to the sisters, who had risen to

receive them; and who obligingly told them they were welcome, and

that they were happy in being able to oblige them, and contribute

towards lessening the fatigue of their journey. They then invited

their new guests to sit down with them. The magnificence of the

place and the kindness of the ladies gave the calenders a very high

idea of the beautiful hostess and her sisters; but before they took

their places, having by chance cast their eyes towards the porter,

and observing that he was dressed very like other calenders, from

whom they differed in many points of discipline, and whose beard and

eyebrows were not shaved, one of them said, “This man appears to

be one of our Arabian brethren, who revolted.”

The porter, half asleep and heated with the wine he had drunk, was

much disturbed at these words; and without getting up he said to the

calenders, casting at the same time a fierce look at them, “Seat

yourselves, and meddle not with what does not concern you. Have you

not read the inscription over the door? Do not pretend then to make

the world live after your fashion; but live according to ours.”

--“My good friend,” replied the calender, who had before spoken,

“do not be angry, for we should be very sorry to give you any

cause; on the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands.”

The dispute would not have ended here had not the ladies interfered,

and pacified all parties.

When the calenders were seated, the sisters helped them, and the

delighted Safiè in particular took care to supply them with wine.

When they had both eaten and drunk as much as they wished, they

intimated that they should be happy to give them some music, if they

had any instruments, and would order them to be brought. They

accepted the offer with pleasure; and the beautiful Safiè

immediately got up to enquire after some, and returned the next

moment and offered them a flute of that country, also another used

in Persia, and a tambour de basque. Each calender received from her

hand that instrument he liked best, and they all began to play a

little air. The females were acquainted with the words, which were

very lively, and accompanied the air with their voices: frequently

interrupting each other with fits of laughter from the nature of the

words.

In the midst of this entertainment, and when the party were highly

delighted, they heard a knock at the door. Safiè immediately left

off singing, and went to see who it was.

“But I must now inform you, Sire,” said Scheherazadè to the

sultan, in this place, “that it is proper for your majesty to know

how any one came to knock so late at the door of this house. The

caliph Haroun Alraschid made it a practice to go very often, during

the night, through the city in disguise, in order to discover

whether every thing was quiet. On this evening, therefore, the

caliph set out from his palace, at his accustomed hour, accompanied

by Giafar, his grand vizier, and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, all

three disguised as merchants. In passing through the street where

these ladies lived, the prince heard the sound of the instruments,

interrupted by laughter, and said to his vizier, “Go and knock at

the door of that house, where I hear so much noise; I wish to gain

admittance, and learn the cause of it.” The vizier endeavoured to

persuade the caliph that they were only women, who were making merry

that evening, and the wine seemed to have exhilirated their spirits;

and that they ought not to expose themselves, where it was probable

they might meet with some insult; besides, the time, he said, was

improper, and it was useless to disturb their amusements. “Never

mind,” said the caliph, “knock as I order you.”

It was, then, the grand vizier Giafar who had knocked at the door by

order of the caliph, who wished not to be known. Safiè opened it,

and the vizier observed, by the light of a candle she carried, that

she was very beautiful. He played his part very well. He first made

a most profound reverence, and then, with a respectful air, he said,

“Madam, we are three merchants of Moussoul, and arrived here about

ten days ago, with some very rich merchandise, which we have

deposited in a khan; where we have taken up our lodging. We have

been to spend the day with a merchant of this city, who had invited

us to go to see him. He treated us with a fine collation; and as the

wine we drunk put us into a very good humour, he sent for a company

of dancers. The night was already far advanced, and while we were

playing on our instruments, the others dancing, and the whole

company making a great noise, the watch happened to pass by, and

obliged us to open the door. Some of the company were arrested: we

were however so fortunate as to escape, by getting over a wall.

But,” added the vizier, “as we are strangers, and have taken

perhaps rather more wine than we ought, we are afraid of meeting

with a second party of the watch, or perhaps the same before we

arrive at our khan, which is at a considerable distance from hence.

And we should even then get there to no purpose, for the gate would

be shut, and whoever may come there, they will not open it till

morning. This is the reason, madam, that as we heard, in passing by,

the sound of instruments and voices, we thought all those who

belonged to the house were not yet retired, and we took the liberty

to knock, to beg you to afford us a retreat till the morning. If we

appear to you worthy of taking a part in your amusements, we will

endeavour, as far as we are able, to contribute to it, in order to

repair the interruption we have caused; if not, do us at least the

favor to suffer us to pass the night under the cover of your

vestibule.”

During this speech of Giafar, the beautiful Safiè had an

opportunity of examining the vizier and the two persons whom he also

called merchants, and judging from their countenances that they were

not common men, she said that she was not mistress, but if they

would give themselves a moment’s patience she would return and

bring the answer. Safiè went and related all this to her sisters,

who hesitated some time as to what they ought to do. But they were

naturally kind, and as they had conferred the same favor on the

three calenders, they resolved to permit these also to come in. The

caliph, the grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being

introduced by the beautiful Safiè, saluted the ladies and the

calenders with great civility. They, supposing them merchants,

returned it in the same manner; and Zobeidè, as the principal

person, with that grave and serious air which so well suited her,

said, “You are welcome, but in the first place do not take it ill

if we ask of you one favor.”--“What favor,” cried the vizier,

“can we refuse to such beautiful ladies!”--“It is,” replied

Zobeidè, “to have only eyes and no speech; to forbear from asking

questions about what you may see, in order to learn the cause; and

not to speak about what does not concern you, for fear you should

hear what will not be pleasant to you.”--“You shall be obeyed,

madam,” replied the vizier; “for we are neither censurers nor

curious imprudent persons. It is enough for us to attend to our own

business without meddling with what does not regard us.” After

this each seated himself, and the conversation became general; and

they drank to the health of the new guests.

While the vizier Giafar entertained them, the caliph ceased not from

admiring the extraordinary beauty, the great elegance, the lively

disposition and spirit of the ladies; while the appearance of the

three calenders, all blind of the right eye, surprised him very

much. He anxiously wished to learn the cause of this singularity,

but the conditions they had imposed upon him and his companions,

prevented any inquiry. Besides all this, when he reflected upon the

richness of the services and furniture; with the regularity and

arrangement every where apparent, he could hardly persuade himself

it was not the effect of enchantment.

The conversation having fallen upon the various sorts of amusement,

and the different modes of enjoying life, the calenders got up and

danced in their peculiar way, which much augmented the good opinion

the ladies had already conceived of them; and attracted also the

applause and esteem of the caliph and his company. As soon as the

calenders had finished, Zobeidè got up, and taking Aminè by the

hand, said to her, “Come, sister, the company shall not think that

we will put them under any restraint; nor shall their presence

prevent us from doing as we have always been accustomed.” Aminè,

who perfectly understood what her sister meant, got up and took away

the dishes, tables, bottles, glasses, and also the instruments on

which the calenders had played. Nor did Safiè remain idle; she

swept the hall, put every thing in its proper place, snuffed the

candles, and added more aloe wood and ambergris. Having done this,

she requested the three calenders to sit on a sofa on one side, and

the caliph and his company on the other. “Get up,” said she then

to the porter, looking at him, “and be ready to assist in whatever

we want you; a man like you, as strong as the house, ought never to

remain idle.” The porter had slept till he was rather more sober:

he got up therefore very quickly, and after fastening his cloak to

his girdle, “I am ready,” he cried, “to do any thing you

please.”--“That is well,” answered Safiè, “and you shall

not remain long with your arms crossed.” A little while after

Aminè came in with a sort of seat, which she placed in the middle

of the room. She then went to the door of a closet, and having

opened it, she made a sign to the porter to approach. “Come and

assist me,” she cried. He did so, and went in with her, and

returned a moment after, followed by two black dogs, each of which

had a collar with a chain fastened to it, by which he held them. He

brought these dogs, which appeared to have been very ill used and

beaten with a whip, into the middle of the room.

Zobeidè, who was sitting between the calenders and the caliph, then

got up, and approaching to the porter in a very grave manner, “We

must,” cried she, with a deep sigh, “do our duty.” She then

turned up her sleeves, so as to uncover her arms up to the elbow,

and after taking a whip which Safiè presented to her, “Porter,”

she said, “take one of these dogs to my sister Aminè, and then

come to me with the other.” The porter did as he was ordered; and

as he approached Zobeidè, the dog, which he held, immediately began

to howl, and turning towards her lifted up its head in a most

supplicating manner. But she, without regarding the melancholy

expressions of the dog, which must have excited pity, or its cries

which filled the whole house, flogged it till she was out of breath,

and when she had not strength left to beat it any more, she threw

away the whip; then taking the chain from the porter, she took up

the dog by the paws, and both looking at each other with a

melancholy air, they mingled their tears together. Zobeidè after

this took out her handkerchief, wiped the tears from its eyes and

kissed it, then returning the chain to the porter, she desired him

to lead that back from whence he had taken it, and bring her the

other.

The porter carried the one that had been beaten back to the closet;

and in returning took the other from the hands of Aminè, and

presented it to Zobeidè, who was waiting for it. “Hold it as you

did the first,” said she; then taking the whip, she served this in

the same manner. She then wept with it, dried its tears, kissed it,

and returned it to the porter, who was saved the trouble of carrying

it back to the closet by the agreeable Aminè, who took it herself.

The three calenders, as well as the caliph and his party, were much

astonished at this ceremony. They could not comprehend why Zobeidè,

after having whipped, with so much violence, the two dogs, which,

according to the tenets of the Mussulman religion, are impure

animals, should afterwards weep with them, kiss them, and dry their

tears. They conversed together about it, and the caliph in

particular was very desirous of knowing the reason of an action

which appeared to him so singular. He made signs to the vizier to

inquire, but he turned his head another way, till at last,

importuned by repeated signs, he answered in the same manner, that

it was not yet time to satisfy his curiosity.

Zobeidè remained for some time in the middle of the room, as if to

rest from her fatigue in beating the two dogs. “My dear sister,”

said the beautiful Safiè, “will you not return to your place,

that I also may perform my part?”--“Yes,” replied Zobeidè,

and seated herself on the sofa with the caliph, Giafar, and Mesrour,

on her right hand, and the three calenders and the porter on her

left.

The company continued for some time silent: at length Safiè, who

had placed herself on the seat in the middle of the room, said to

Aminè, “Sister get up, you understand what I mean.” Aminè rose

and went into a different closet from that whence the dogs were

brought; she returned with a case covered with yellow satin, and

richly ornamented with an embroidery of green and gold. She opened

it, and took out a lute, which she presented to her sister. Safiè

took it, and after having tuned it, began to accompany it with her

voice: she sung an air on the torments of absence, in so agreeable a

style, that the caliph and the rest of the company were enchanted.

When she had finished, as she had sung with a great deal of action

as well as passion, she offered the lute to Aminè, saying,

“Sister, my voice fails me; do you take it, and oblige the company

by playing and singing instead of me.”

Aminè having played a little prelude, to hear if the instrument was

in tune, sung for some time on the same subject, but she became so

affected by the words she uttered, that she had not power to finish

the air. Zobeidè began to praise her sister: “You have done

wonders,” said she, “it is easy to perceive that you feel the

griefs you express.” Aminè had not time to reply to this speech;

she felt herself so oppressed at that moment, that she could think

of nothing but giving herself air, and opening her robe, she exposed

a bosom, not white as the beautiful Aminè ought to have had, but so

covered with scars, as to create a species of horror in the

spectators. This, however, was of no service to her, and she fainted

away.

Whilst Zobeidè and Safiè ran to assist their sister, one of the

calenders exclaimed, “We had better have slept in the open air

than come here to witness such a spectacle.”

The caliph, who heard him, drew near, and enquired what all this

meant: “We know no more than you,” replied the calender.

“What,” resumed the caliph, “do not you belong to the house?

cannot you inform me about these two black dogs, and this lady, who

appears to have been so ill treated?”--“Sir,” said the

calender, “we never were in this house before now, and entered it

only a few minutes sooner than you did.” This increased the

astonishment of the caliph, “Perhaps,” said he, “the man who

is with you can give us some information.” The calender made signs

to the porter to draw near, and asked him if he knew why the black

dogs had been beaten, and why the bosom of Aminè was so scarred.

“Sir,” replied the porter, “I swear by the great living God,

that if you know nothing of the matter, we are all equally ignorant.

It is true that I live in the city, but before to-day I never

entered this house; and if you are surprised to see me here, I am

not less so at being in such company. What increases my surprise,”

added he, “is not to see any man with these ladies.”

The caliph and his party, as well as the calenders, thought that the

porter belonged to the family, and that he would have been able to

have informed them of what they wished so much to know. The caliph,

whatever might be the consequence, resolved to satisfy his

curiosity. “Attend to me,” he said to the rest, “we are seven

men and there are only three women, let us then compel them to give

us the information we request; and if they refuse to comply with a

good grace, we can force them to it. The grand vizier, Giafar,

opposed this plan; and explained the consequences of it to the

caliph, without discovering to the calenders who he was, as he

always addressed him like a merchant. “Consider, sir, I beg,”

said he, “that we have our reputation to preserve. You know on

what condition these ladies suffered us to become their guests; and

we accepted the terms. What will they say to us if we infringe the

compact? And we should be still more to blame if any misfortune

should happen to us in consequence of it. It is not to be supposed

that they would require such a promise from us unless they should be

able to make us repent if we broke it.”

The vizier now drew the caliph a little aside, and spoke to him in a

low voice. “The night, my lord, will not last long, if your

majesty will have but a little patience, I will then come and bring

these women before you when on your throne, and you may learn from

them whatever you wish.” Although this advice was very judicious,

the caliph rejected it, and desired the vizier to be silent, and

said he would not wait so long, but would that instant have the

information he wished. The next question was, who should first make

the enquiry. The caliph endeavoured to persuade the calenders to

speak first, but they excused themselves. At last they all agreed,

that it should be the porter. He was preparing to utter the fatal

question, when Zobeidè, after having assisted Aminè, who had

recovered from her fainting, approached them. As she had heard them

speak in rather a loud and warm manner, she said to them, “What

are you talking of? what is your contest about?”