While his retinue were unlading the other camels, he took Buddir

ad Deen's mother and his daughter aside; and addressed himself to

the latter: "God be praised," said he, "my child, for this happy

occasion of meeting your cousin and your husband! You remember,

of course, what order your chamber was in on your wedding night:

go and put all things as they were then placed; and if your

memory do not serve you, I can aid it by a written account, which

I caused to be taken upon that occasion."

The beautiful lady went joyfully to execute her father's orders;

and he at the same time commanded the hall to be adorned as when

Buddir ad Deen Houssun was there with the sultan of Egypt's

hunch-backed groom. As he went over his manuscript, his domestics

placed every moveable in the described order. The throne was not

forgotten, nor the lighted wax candles. When every thing was

arranged in the hall, the vizier went into his daughter's chamber

and put in their due place Buddir ad Deen's apparel, with the

purse of sequins. This done, he said to the beautiful lady,

"Undress yourself, my child, and go to bed. As soon as Buddir ad

Deen enters your room, complain of his being from you so long,

and tell him, that when you awoke, you were astonished you did

not find him by you. Press him to come to bed again; and to-

morrow morning you will divert your mother-in-law and me, by

giving us an account of your interview." This said, he went from

his daughter's apartment, and left her to undress herself and go

to bed.

Shumse ad Deen Mahummud ordered all his domestics to depart the

hall, excepting two or three, whom he desired to remain. These he

commanded to go and take Buddir ad Deen out of the cage, to strip

him to his under vest and drawers, to conduct him in that

condition to the hall, to leave him there alone, and shut the

door upon him.

Buddir ad Deen, though overwhelmed with grief, was asleep so

soundly, that the vizier's domestics had taken him out of the

chest and stripped him before he awoke; and they carried him so

suddenly into the hall, that they did not give him time to see

where he was. When he found himself alone in the hall, he looked

round him, and the objects he beheld recalling to his memory the

circumstances of his marriage, he perceived, with astonishment,

that it was the place where he had seen the sultan's groom of the

stables. His surprise was still the greater, when approaching

softly the door of a chamber which he found open, he spied his

own raiments where he remembered to have left them on his wedding

night. "My God!" said he, rubbing his eyes, "am I asleep or

awake?"

The beautiful lady, who in the mean time was diverting herself

with his astonishment, opened the curtains of her bed suddenly,

and bending her head forward, "My dear lord," said she, with a

soft, tender air, "what do you do at the door? You have been out

of bed a long time. I was strangely surprised when I awoke in not

finding you by me." Buddir ad Deen was enraptured; he entered the

room, but reverting to all that had passed during a ten years'

interval, and not being able to persuade himself that it could

all have happened in the compass of one night, he went to the

place where his vestments lay with the purse of sequins; and

after examining them very carefully, exclaimed, "By Allah these

are mysteries which I can by no means comprehend!" The lady, who

was pleased to see his confusion, said, once more, "My lord, what

do you wait for?" He stepped towards the bed, and said to her,

"Is it long since I left you?" "The question," answered she,

"surprises me. Did not you rise from me but now? Surely your mind

is deranged." "Madam," replied Buddir ad Deen, "I do assure you

my thoughts are not very composed. I remember indeed to have been

with you, but I remember at the same time, that I have since

lived ten years at Damascus. Now, if I was actually in bed with

you this night, I cannot have been from you so long. These two

points are inconsistent. Pray tell me what I am to think; whether

my marriage with you is an illusion, or whether my absence from

you is only a dream?" "Yes, my lord," cried she, "doubtless you

were light-headed when you thought you were at Damascus." Upon

this Buddir ad Deen laughed heartily, and said, "What a comical

fancy is this! I assure you, madam, this dream of mine will be

very pleasant to you. Do but imagine, if you please, that I was

at the gate of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, as I am here

now; that I entered the town with the halloo of a mob who

followed and insulted me; that I fled to a pastry cook who

adopted me, taught me his trade, and left me all he had when he

died; that after his death I kept a shop. In fine, I had an

infinity of other adventures, too tedious to recount: and all I

can say is, that it was well that I awoke, for they were going to

impale me!" "And for what," cried the lady, feigning

astonishment, "would they have used you so cruelly? Surely you

must have committed some enormous crime." "Not the least,"

replied Buddir ad Deen; "it was for nothing but a mere trifle,

the most ridiculous thing you can imagine. All the crime I was

charged with, was selling a cream-tart that had no pepper in it."

"As for that matter," said the beautiful lady laughing heartily,

"I must say they did you great injustice." "Ah!" replied he,

"that was not all. For this cursed cream-tart was every thing in

my shop broken to pieces, myself bound and fettered, and flung

into a chest, where I lay so close, that methinks I am there

still, but thanks be to God all was a dream."

Buddir ad Deen was not easy all night. He awoke from time to

time, and put the question to himself, whether he dreamed or was

awake. He distrusted his felicity; and, to be sure whether it was

true or not, looked round the room. "I am not mistaken," said he;

"this is the same chamber where I entered instead of the hunch-

backed groom of the stables; and I am now in bed with the fair

lady designed for him." Day-light, which then appeared, had not

yet dispelled his uneasiness, when the vizier Shumse ad Deen, his

uncle, knocked at the door, and at the same time went in to bid

him good morrow.

Buddir ad Deen was extremely surprised to see a man he knew so

well, and who now appeared with a different air from that with

which he pronounced the terrible sentence of death against him.

"Ah!" cried Buddir ad Deen, "it was you who condemned me so

unjustly to a kind of death, the thoughts of which make me

shudder, and all for a cream-tart without pepper." The vizier

fell a laughing, and to put him out of suspense, told him how, by

the ministry of a genie (for hunch-back's relation made him

suspect the adventure), he had been at his palace, and had

married his daughter instead of the sultan's groom of the

stables; then he acquainted him that he had discovered him to be

his nephew by the memorandum of his father, and pursuant to that

discovery had gone from Cairo to Bussorah in quest of him. "My

dear nephew," added he, embracing him with every expression of

tenderness, "I ask your pardon for all I have made you undergo

since I discovered you. I resolved to bring you to my palace

before I told you your happiness; which ought now to be so much

the dearer to you, as it has cost you so much perplexity and

distress. To atone for all your afflictions, comfort yourself

with the joy of being in the company of those who ought to be

dearest to you. While you are dressing yourself I will go and

acquaint your mother, who is beyond measure impatient to see you;

and will likewise bring to you your son, whom you saw at

Damascus, and for whom, without knowing him, you shewed so much

affection."

No words can adequately express the joy of Buddir ad Deen, when

he saw his mother and his son. They embraced, and shewed all the

transports that love and tenderness could inspire. The mother

spoke to Buddir ad Deen in the most moving terms; she mentioned

the grief she had felt for his long absence, and the tears she

had shed. Little Ajib, instead of flying his father's embraces,

as at Damascus, received them with all the marks of pleasure. And

Buddir ad Deen Houssun, divided between two objects so worthy of

his love, thought he could not give sufficient testimonies of his

affection.

While this passed, the vizier was gone to the palace, to give the

sultan an account of the happy success of his travels; and the

sultan was so moved with the recital of the story, that he

ordered it to be taken down in writing, and carefully preserved

among the archives of the kingdom. After Shumse ad Deen's return

to his palace, he sat down with his family, and all the household

passed the day in festivity and mirth.

The vizier Jaaffier having thus concluded the story of Buddir ad

Deen, told the caliph that this was what he had to relate to his

majesty. The caliph found the story so surprising, that without

farther hesitation he granted his slave Rihan's pardon; and to

console the young man for the grief of having unhappily deprived

himself of a woman whom he had loved so tenderly, married him to

one of his slaves, bestowed liberal gifts upon him, and

maintained him till he died.

THE HISTORY OF GANEM, SON OF ABOU AYOUB,

AND KNOWN BY THE SURNAME OF LOVE'S SLAVE.

There was formerly at Damascus a merchant, who had by care and

industry acquired great wealth, on which he lived in a very

honourable manner. His name was Abou Ayoub, and he had one son

and a daughter. The son was called Ganem, but afterwards surnamed

Love's slave. His person was graceful, and the excellent

qualities of his mind had been improved by able masters. The

daughter's name was Alcolom, signifying Ravisher of hearts,

because her beauty was so perfect that whoever saw her could not

avoid loving her.

Abou Ayoub died, and left immense riches: a hundred loads of

brocades and other silks that lay in his warehouse were the least

part. The loads were ready made up, and on every bale was written

in large characters, "For Bagdad."

Mahummud, the son of Soliman, surnamed Zinebi, reigned at that

time at Damascus, the capital of Syria. His kinsman, Haroon al

Rusheed, had bestowed that kingdom on him as his tributary.

Soon after the death of Abou Ayoub, Ganem conversed with his

mother about their domestic affairs, and concerning the loads of

merchandize in the warehouse, asked her the meaning of what was

written upon each bale. "My son," answered his mother, "your

father used to travel sometimes into one province, and sometimes

into another; and it was customary with him, before he set out,

to write the name of the city he designed to repair to on every

bade. He had provided all things to take a journey to Bagdad, and

was on the point of setting out, when death"----She had not power

to finish; the lively remembrance of the loss of her husband

would not permit her to say more, and drew from her a shower of

tears.

Ganem could not see his mother so sensibly affected, without

being equally so himself. They continued some time silent; but at

length he recovered himself, and as soon as he found his mother

calm enough to listen to him, said, "Since my father designed

these goods for Bagdad, I will prepare myself to perform that

journey; and I think it will be proper for me to hasten my

departure, for fear those commodities should perish, or that we

should lose the opportunity of selling them to the best

advantage."

Abou Ayoub's widow, who tenderly loved her son, was much

concerned at this resolution, and replied, "My dear child, I

cannot but commend you for designing to follow your father's

example; but consider, that you are too young, inexperienced, and

unaccustomed to the fatigue of travelling. Besides, can you think

of leaving me, and adding to that sorrow with which I am already

oppressed? Is it not better to sell those goods to the merchants

of Damascus, and take up with a moderate profit, than expose

yourself to the danger of perishing?"

It was in vain for her to oppose Ganem's resolution by the

strongest arguments; they had no weight with him. An inclination

to travel, and to accomplish himself by a thorough knowledge of

the world, urged him to set out, and prevailed over all his

mother's remonstrances, her entreaties, and even her tears. He

went to the market where slaves were sold, and bought such as

were able-bodied, hired a hundred camels, and having provided all

other necessaries, entered upon his journey, with five or six

merchants of Damascus, who were going to trade at Bagdad.

Those merchants, attended by their slaves, and accompanied by

several other travellers, made up such a considerable caravan,

that they had nothing to fear from the Bedouin Arabs, who make it

their only profession to range the country; and attack and

plunder the caravans when they are not strong enough to repulse

them. They had no other difficulty to encounter, than the usual

fatigues of a long journey, which were easily forgotten when they

came in sight of the city of Bagdad, where they arrived in

safety.

They alighted at the most magnificent and most frequented khan in

the city; but Ganem chose to be lodged conveniently, and by

himself. He only left his goods there in a warehouse for their

greater security, and hired a spacious house in the

neighbourhood, richly furnished, having a garden which was very

delightful, on account of its many waterworks and shady groves.

Some days after this young merchant had been settled in his

house, and perfectly recovered of the fatigue of his journey, he

dressed himself richly, and repaired to the public place, where

the merchants met to transact business. A slave followed him,

carrying a parcel of fine stuffs and silks.

The merchants received Ganem very courteously, and their syndic,

or chief, to whom he first made application, bought all his

parcel, at the price set down in the ticket annexed to every

piece of stuff. Ganem continued his trade so successfully, that

he every day sold all the goods he exposed.

He had but one bale left, which he had caused to be carried from

the warehouse to his own house; he then went to the public

rendezvous, where he found all the shops shut. This seemed

somewhat extraordinary to him and having asked the cause, he was

told, that one of the first merchants, whom he knew, was dead,

and that all his brother traders were gone to his funeral.

Ganem inquired for the mosque, where prayer was to be said, and

whence the body was to be conducted to the grave; and having been

informed, sent back his slave with the goods, and walked towards

the mosque. He got thither before the prayers were ended, which

were said in a hall hung with black satin. The corpse was taken

up, and followed by the kindred, the merchants, and Ganem, to the

place of burial, which was at some distance without the city. It

was a stone structure, in form of a dome, purposely built to

receive the bodies of all the family of the deceased, and being

very small, they had pitched tents around, that all the company

might be sheltered during the ceremony. The monument was opened,

and the corpse laid in it, after which it was shut up. Then the

imam, and other ministers of the mosque, sat down in a ring on

carpets, in the largest tent, and recited the rest of the

prayers. They also read the Fateah, or introductory chapter of

the Koraun, appointed for the burial of the dead. The kindred and

merchants sat round, in the same manner, behind the ministers.

It was near night before all was ended: Ganem who had not

expected such a long ceremony, began to be uneasy, and the more

so, when he saw meat served up, in memory of the deceased,

according to the custom of the Mahummedans. He was also told that

the tents had been set up not only against the heat of the sun,

but also against the evening dew, because they should not return

to the city before the next morning. These words perplexed Ganem.

"I am a stranger," said he to himself, "and have the reputation

of being a rich merchant; thieves may take the opportunity of my

absence, and rob my house. My slaves may be tempted by so

favourable an opportunity; they may run away with all the gold I

have received for my goods, and whither shall I go to look for

them?" Full of these thoughts, he ate a few mouthfuls hastily,

and slipped away from the company.

He made all possible haste; but, as it often happens that the

more a man hurries the less he advances, he went astray in the

dark, so that it was near midnight when he came to the city gate;

which, to add to his misfortune, was shut. This was a fresh

affliction to him, and he was obliged to look for some convenient

place in which to pass the rest of the night till the gate was

opened. He went into a burial-place, so spacious, that it reached

from the city to the very place he had left. He advanced to some

high walls, which enclosed a small field, being the mausoleum of

a family, and in which there was a palm-tree. Ganem, finding that

the burial-place where the palm-tree grew was open, went into it,

and shut the door after him. He lay down on the grass and tried

to sleep; but his uneasiness at being absent from home would not

permit him. He got up, and after having passed before the door

several times, opened it, without knowing why, and immediately

perceived at a distance a light, which seemed to come towards

him. He was startled at the sight, closed the door, which had

nothing to secure it but a latch, and got up as fast as he could

to the top of the palm-tree; looking upon that as the safest

retreat under his present apprehensions.

No sooner was he up, than by the help of the light which had

alarmed him, he plainly perceived three men, whom, by their

habit, he knew to be slaves, enter into the burial-place. One of

them advanced with a lantern, and the two others followed him,

loaded with a chest, between five and six feet long, which they

carried on their shoulders. They set it down, and then one of the

three slaves said to his comrades, "Brethren, if you will be

advised by me, we will leave the chest here, and return to the

city." "No, no," replied another, "that would not be executing

our mistress's orders; we may have cause to repent not doing as

we were commanded. Let us bury the chest, since we are enjoined

so to do." The two other slaves complied. They began to break

ground with the tools they had brought for that purpose. When

they had made a deep trench, they put the chest into it, and

covered it with the earth they had taken out, and then departed.

Ganem, who from the top of the palm-tree had heard every word the

slaves had spoken, could not tell what to think of the adventure.

He concluded that the chest must contain something of value, and

that the person to whom it belonged had some particular reasons

for causing it to be buried in the cemetery. He resolved

immediately to satisfy his curiosity, came down from the palm-

tree, the departure of the slaves having dissipated his fear, and

fell to work upon the pit, plying his hands and feet so well,

that in a short time he uncovered the chest, but found it secured

by a padlock. This new obstacle to the satisfying of his

curiosity was no small mortification to him, yet he was not

discouraged, but the day beginning then to appear, he saw several

great stones about the burial-place. He picked out one, with

which he easily knocked off the padlock, and then with much

impatience opened the chest. Ganem was strangely surprised, when,

instead of money, he discovered a young lady of incomparable

beauty. Her fresh and rosy complexion, and her gentle regular

breathing, satisfied him she was alive, but he could not conceive

why, if she were only asleep, she had not awaked at the noise he

made in forcing off the padlock. Her habit was so costly, with

bracelets and pendants of diamonds, and a necklace of pearls, so

large, that he made not the least doubt of her being one of the

principal ladies of the court. At the sight of so beautiful an

object, not only compassion and natural inclination to relieve

persons in danger, but something more powerful, which Ganem could

not then account for, prevailed on him to afford the unfortunate

beauty all the assistance in his power.

He first shut the gate of the burial-place, which the slaves had

left open; then, returning, took the lady in his arms, and laid

her on the soft earth which he had thrown off the chest. As soon

as she was exposed to the air, she sneezed, and, by the motion in

turning her head, there came from her mouth a liquor, with which

her stomach seemed to have been loaded; then opening and rubbing

her eyes, she with such a voice as charmed Ganem, whom she did

not see, cried out, "Zohorob Bostan, Shijher al Mirjaun, Casabos

Souccar, Nouron Nihar, Nagmatos Sohi, Nonzbetos Zaman, why do you

not answer? where are you?" These were the names of six female

slaves that used to wait on her. She called them, and wondered

that nobody answered; but at length looking about, and perceiving

she was in a burial-place, was seized with fear. "What," cried

she, much louder than before, "are the dead raised? Is the day of

judgment come? What a wonderful change is this from evening to

morning?"

Ganem did not think fit to leave the lady any longer in her

perplexity, but presented himself before her with all possible

respect, and in the most courteous manner. "Madam," said he, "I

am not able to express my joy at having happened to be here to do

you the service I have, and to offer you all the assistance you

may need under your present circumstances."

In order to persuade the lady to repose confidence in him, he, in

the first place, told her who he was, and what accident had

brought him to that place. Next he acquainted her with the coming

of the three slaves, and how they had buried the chest. The lady,

who had covered her face with her veil as soon as Ganem appeared,

was extremely sensible of the obligations she owed him. "I return

thanks to God," said she "for having sent so worthy a person as

you are to deliver me from death; but since you have begun so

charitable a work, I conjure you not to leave it imperfect. Let

me beg of you to go into the city, and provide a muleteer, to

come with his mule, and carry me to your house in this chest;

for, should I go with you on foot, my dress being different from

that of the city ladies, some one might take notice of it, and

follow me, which it highly concerns me to prevent. When I shall

be in your house, I will give you an account of myself; and in

the mean time be assured that you have not obliged an ungrateful

person."

Before the young merchant left the lady, he drew the chest out of

the pit, which he filled up with earth, laid her again in the

chest, and shut it in such a manner, that it did not look as if

the padlock had been forced off; but for fear of stifling her, he

did not put it quite close, leaving room for the admittance of

air. Going out of the burial-place, he drew the door after him;

and the city gate being then open, soon found what he sought. He

returned with speed to the burial place, and helped the muleteer

to lay the chest across his mule, telling him, to remove all

cause of suspicion, that he came to that place the night before,

with another muleteer, who, being in haste to return home, had

laid down the chest where he saw it.

Ganem, who, since his arrival at Bagdad, had minded nothing but

his business, was still unacquainted with the power of love, and

now felt its first attacks. It had not been in his power to look

upon the young lady without being dazzled; and the uneasiness he

felt at following the muleteer at a distance, and the fear lest

any accident might happen by the way that should deprive him of

his conquest, taught him to unravel his thoughts. He was more

than usually delighted, when, being arrived safe at home, he saw

the chest unloaded. He dismissed the muleteer, and having caused

a slave to shut the door of his house, opened the chest, helped

the lady out, gave her his hand, and conducted her to his

apartment, lamenting how much she must have endured in such close

confinement. "If I have suffered," said she, "I have satisfaction

sufficient in what you have done for me, and in the pleasure of

seeing myself out of danger."

Though Ganem's apartment was very richly furnished, the lady did

not so much regard its appearance, as she did the handsome

presence and engaging mien of her deliverer, whose politeness and

obliging behaviour heightened her gratitude. She sat down on a

sofa, and to give the merchant to understand how sensible she was

of the service done her, took off her veil. Ganem on his part was

sensible of the favour so lovely a lady did in uncovering her

face to him, or rather felt he had already a most violent passion

for her. Whatever obligations she owed him, he thought himself

more than requited by so singular a favour.

The lady dived into Ganem's thoughts, yet was not at all alarmed,

because he appeared very respectful. He, judging she might have

occasion to eat, and not willing to trust any but himself with

the care of entertaining so charming a guest, went out with a

slave to an eating-house, to give directions for an

entertainment. From thence he went to a fruiterer, where he chose

the finest and best fruit; buying also the choicest wine, and the

same bread that was eaten at the caliph's table.

As soon as he returned home, he with his own hands made a pyramid

of the fruit he had bought, and serving it up himself to the lady

in a large dish, of the finest china-ware, "Madam," said he, "be

pleased to make choice of some of this fruit, while a more solid

entertainment, and more worthy yourself, is preparing." He would

have continued standing before her, but she declared she would

not touch any thing, unless he sat down and ate with her. He

obeyed; and when they had eaten a little, Ganem observing that

the lady's veil, which she laid down by her on a sofa, was

embroidered along the edge with golden letters, begged her

permission to look on the embroidery. The lady immediately took

up the veil, and delivered it to him, asking him whether he could

read? "Madam," replied he, with a modest air, "a merchant would

be ill-qualified to manage his business if he could not at least

read and write." "Well, then," said she, "read the words which

are embroidered on that veil, which gives me an opportunity of

telling you my story."

Ganem took the veil, and read these words, "I am yours, and you

are mine, thou descendant from the prophet's uncle." That

descendant from the prophet's uncle was the caliph Haroon al

Rusheed, who then reigned, and was descended from Abbas,

Mahummud's uncle.

When Ganem perceived these words, "Alas! madam," said he, in a

melancholy tone, "I have just saved your life, and this writing

is my death! I do not comprehend all the mystery; but it

convinces me I am the most unfortunate of men. Pardon, madam, the

liberty I take, but it was impossible for me to see you without

giving you my heart. You are not ignorant yourself, that it was

not in my power to refuse it you, and that makes my presumption

excusable. I proposed to myself to touch your heart by my

respectful behaviour, my care, my assiduity, my submission, my

constancy; and no sooner have I formed the flattering design,

than I am robbed of all my hopes. I cannot long survive so great

a misfortune. But, be that as it will, I shall have the

satisfaction of dying entirely yours. Proceed, madam, I conjure

you, and give me full information of my unhappy fate."

He could not utter those words without letting fall some tears.

The lady was moved; but was so far from being displeased at the

declaration he made, that she felt secret joy; for her heart

began to yield. However, she concealed her feelings, and as if

she had not regarded what Ganem had said. "I should have been

very cautious," answered she, "of strewing you my veil, had I

thought it would have given you so much uneasiness; but I do not

perceive that what I have to say to you can make your condition

so deplorable as you imagine."

"You must understand," proceeded she, "in order to acquaint you

with my story, that my name is Fetnah (which signifies

disturbance), which was given me at my birth, because it was

judged that the sight of me would one day occasion many

calamities. Of this you cannot be ignorant, since there is nobody

in Bagdad but knows that the caliph, my sovereign lord and yours,

has a favourite so called.

"I was carried into his palace in my tenderest years, and I have

been brought up with all the care that is usually taken with such

persons of my sex as are destined to reside there. I made no

little progress in all they took the pains to teach me; and that,

with some share of beauty, gained me the affection of the caliph,

who allotted me a particular apartment adjoining to his own. That

prince was not satisfied with such a mark of distinction; he

appointed twenty women to wait on me, and as many eunuchs; and

ever since he has made me such considerable presents, that I saw

myself richer than any queen in the world. You may judge by what

I have said, that Zobeide, the caliph's wife and kinswoman, could

not but be jealous of my happiness. Though Haroon has all the

regard imaginable for her, she has taken every possible

opportunity to ruin me.

"Hitherto I had secured myself against all her snares, but at

length I fell under the last effort of her jealousy; and, had it

not been for you, must now have been exposed to inevitable death.

I question not but she had corrupted one of my slaves, who last

night, in some lemonade, gave me a drug, which causes such a dead

sleep, that it is easy to dispose of those who have taken it; for

that sleep is so profound, that nothing can dispel it for the

space of seven or eight hours. I have the more reason to judge

so, because naturally I am a very bad sleeper, and apt to wake at

the least noise.

"Zobeide, the better to put her design in execution, has availed

herself of the absence of the caliph, who went lately to put

himself at the head of his troops, to chastise some neighbouring

kings, who have formed a league of rebellion. Were it not for

this opportunity, my rival, outrageous as she is, durst not have

presumed to attempt any thing against my life. I know not what

she will do to conceal this action from the caliph, but you see

it highly concerns me that you should keep my secret. My life

depends on it. I shall be safe in your house as long as the

caliph is from Bagdad. It concerns you to keep my adventure

private; for should Zobeide know the obligation I owe you, she

would punish you for having saved me.

"When the caliph returns, I shall not need to be so much upon my

guard. I shall find means to acquaint him with all that has

happened, and I am fully persuaded he will be more earnest than

myself to requite a service which restores me to his love."

As soon as Haroon al Rusheed's beautiful favourite had done

speaking, Ganem said, "Madam, I return you a thousand thanks for

having given me the information I took the liberty to desire of

you; and I beg of you to believe, that you are here in safety;

the sentiments you have inspired are a pledge of my secrecy.

"As for my slaves, they may perhaps fail of the fidelity they owe

me, should they know by what accident and in what place I had the

happiness to find you. I dare assure you, however, that they will

not have the curiosity to inquire. It is so natural for young men

to purchase beautiful slaves, that it will be no way surprising

to them to see you here, believing you to be one, and that I have

bought you. They will also conclude that I have some particular

reasons for bringing you home as they saw I did. Set your heart,

therefore, at rest, as to that point, and remain satisfied that

you shall be served with all the respect that is due to the

favourite of so great a monarch as our sovereign the caliph. But

great as he is, give me leave, madam, to declare, that nothing

can make me recall the present I have made you of my heart. I

know, and shall never forget, ‘that what belongs to the master is

forbidden to the slave;' but I loved you before you told me that

you were engaged to the caliph; it is not in my power to overcome

a passion which, though now in its infancy, has all the force of

a love strengthened by a perfect of situation. I wish your august

and most fortunate lover may avenge you of the malice of Zobeide,

by calling you back to him; and when you shall be restored to his

wishes, that you may remember the unfortunate Ganem, who is no

less your conquest than the caliph. Powerful as that prince is, I

flatter myself he will not be able to blot me out of your

remembrance. He cannot love you more passionately than I do; and

I shall never cease to love you into whatever part of the world I

may go to expire, after having lost you."

Fetnah perceived that Ganem was under the greatest of

afflictions, and his situation affected her; but considering the

uneasiness she was likely to bring upon herself, by prosecuting

the conversation on that subject, which might insensibly lead her

to discover the inclination she felt for him; "I perceive," said

she, "that this conversetion gives you too much uneasiness; let

us change the subject, and talk of the infinite obligation I owe

you. I can never sufficiently express my gratitude, when I

reflect that, without your assistance, I should never again have

beheld the light of the sun."

It was happy for them both, that somebody just then knocked at

the door; Ganem went to see who it was, and found it to be one of

his slaves come to acquaint him that the entertainment was ready.

Ganem, who, by way of precaution, would have none of his slaves

come into the room where Fetnah was, took what was brought, and

served it up himself to his beautiful guest, whose soul was

ravished to behold what attention he paid her.

When they had eaten, Ganem took away, as he had covered the

table; and having delivered all things at the door of the

apartment to his slaves, "Madam," said he to Fetnah, "you may now

perhaps desire to take some rest; I will leave you, and when you

have reposed yourself, you shall find me ready to receive your

commands."

Having thus spoken, he left her, and went to purchase two women-

slaves. He also bought two parcels, one of fine linen, and the

other of all such things as were proper to make up a toilet fit

for the caliph's favourite. Having conducted home the two women-

slaves, he presented them to Fetnah, saying, "Madam, a person of

your quality cannot be without two waiting-maids, at least, to

serve you; be pleased to accept of these."

Fetnah, admiring Ganem's attention, said, "My lord, I perceive

you are not one that will do things by halves: you add by your

courtesy to the obligations I owe you already; but I hope I shall

not die ungrateful, and that heaven will soon place me in a

condition to requite all your acts of generosity."

When the women-slaves were withdrawn into a chamber adjoining, he

sat down on the sofa, but at some distance from Fetnah, in token

of respect. He then began to discourse of his passion. "I dare

not so much as hope," said he, "to excite the least sensibility

in a heart like yours, destined for the greatest prince in the

world. Alas! it would be a comfort to me in my misfortune, if I

could but flatter myself, that you have not looked upon the

excess of my love with indifference." "My lord," answered Fetnah

"Alas! madam," said Ganem, interrupting her at the word lord,

"this is the second time you have done me the honour to call me

lord; the presence of the women-slaves hindered me the first time

from taking notice of it to you: in the name of God, madam, do

not give me this title of honour; it does not belong to me; treat

me, I beseech you, as your slave: I am, and shall never cease to

be so."

"No, no," replied Fetnah, interrupting him in her turn, "I shall

be cautious how I treat with such disrespect a man to whom I owe

my life. I should be ungrateful, could I say or do any thing that

did not become you. Leave me, therefore, to follow the dictates

of my gratitude, and do not require of me, that I should

misbehave myself towards you, in return for the benefits I have

received. I shall never be guilty of such conduct; I am too

sensible of your respectful behaviour to abuse it; and I will not

hesitate to own, that I do not regard your care with

indifference. You know the reasons that condemn me to silence."

Ganem was enraptured at this declaration; he wept for joy, and

not being able to find expressions significant enough, in his own

opinion, to return Fetnah thanks, was satisfied with telling her,

that as she knew what she owed to the caliph, he, on his part,

was not ignorant "that what belongs to the master is forbidden to

the slave."

Night drawing on, he rose up to fetch a light, which he brought

in himself, as also a collation.

They both sat down at table, and at first complimented each other

on the fruit as they presented it reciprocally. The excellence of

the wine insensibly drew them both to drink; and having drunk two

or three glasses, they agreed that neither should take another

glass without first singing some air. Ganem sung verses ex

tempore, expressive of the vehemence of his passion; and Fetnah,

encouraged by his example, composed and sung verses relating to

her adventure, and always containing something which Ganem might

take in a sense favourable to himself; except in this, she most

exactly observed the fidelity due to the caliph. The collation

continued till very late, and the night was far advanced before

they thought of parting. Ganem then withdrew to another

apartment, leaving Fetnah where she was, the women slaves he had

bought coming in to wait upon her.

They lived together in this manner for several days. The young

merchant went not abroad, unless upon of the utmost consequence,

and even for that took the time when the lady was reposing; for

he could not prevail upon himself to lose a moment that might be

spent in her company. All his thoughts were taken up with his

dear Fetnah, who, on her side, gave way to her inclination,

confessed she had no less affection for him than he had for her.

However, fond as they were of each other, their respect for the

caliph kept them within due bounds, which still heightened their

passion.

Whilst Fetnah, thus snatched from the jaws of death, passed her

time so agreeably with Ganem, Zobeide was not without some

apprehensions in the palace of Haroon al Rusheed.

No sooner had the three slaves, entrusted with the execution of

her revenge, carried away the chest, without knowing what it

contained, or so much as the least curiosity to inquire (being

used to pay a blind obedience to her commands), than she was

seized with a tormenting uneasiness; a thousand perplexing

thoughts disturbed her rest; sleep fled from her eyes, and she

spent the night in contriving how to conceal her crime. "My

consort," said she, "loves Fetnah more than ever he did any of

his favourites. What shall I say to him at his return, when he

inquires of me after her?" Many contrivances occurred to her, but

none were satisfactory. Still she met with difficulties, and knew

not where to fix. There lived with her a lady advanced in years,

who had bred her up from her infancy. As soon as it was day, she

sent for her, and having entrusted her with the secret, said, "My

good mother, you have always assisted me with your advice; if

ever I stood in need of it, it is now, when the business before

you is to still my thoughts, distracted by a mortal anxiety, and

to show me some way to satisfy the caliph."

"My dear mistress," replied the old lady, "it had been much

better not to have run yourself into the difficulties you labour

under; but since the thing is done, the best consolation is to

think no more of it. All that must now be thought of, is how to

deceive the commander of the believers; and I am of opinion, that

you should immediately cause a wooden image resembling a dead

body to be carved. We will shroud it up in linen, and when shut

up in a coffin, it shall be buried in some part of the palace;

you shall then immediately cause a marble mausoleum to be built,

in the form of a dome, over the burial place, and erect a tomb,

which shall be covered with embroidered cloth, and set about with

great candlesticks and large wax tapers. There is another thing,"

added the old lady, "which ought not to be forgotten; you must

put on mourning, and cause the same to be done by your own and

Fetnah's women, your eunuchs, and all the officers of the palace.

When the caliph returns, and sees you all and the palace in

mourning, he will not fail to ask the occasion of it. You will

then have an opportunity of insinuating yourself into his favour,

by saying, it was out of respect to him that you paid the last

honours to Fetnah, snatched away by sudden death. You may tell

him, you have caused a mausoleum to be built, and, in short, that

you have paid all the last honours to his favourite, as he would

have done himself had he been present. His passion for her being

extraordinary, he will certainly go to shed tears upon her grave;

and perhaps," added the old woman, ‘`he will not believe she is

really dead. He may, possibly, suspect you have turned her out of

the palace through jealousy, and look upon all the mourning as an

artifice to deceive him, and prevent his making inquiries after

her. It is likely he will cause the coffin to be taken up and

opened, and it is certain he will be convinced of her death, as

soon as he shall see the figure of a dead body buried. He will be

pleased with all you shall have done, and express his gratitude.

As for the wooden image, I will myself undertake to have it cut

by a carver in the city, who shall not know the purpose for which

it is designed. As for your part, madam, order Fetnah's woman,

who yesterday gave her the lemonade, to give out, among her

companions, that she has just found her mistress dead in her bed;

and in order that they may only think of lamenting, without

offering to go into her chamber, let her add, she has already

acquainted you with the circumstance, and that you have ordered

Mesrour to cause her to be buried."

As soon as the old lady had spoken, Zobeide took a rich diamond

ring out of her casket, and putting it on her finger, and

embracing her in a transport of joy, said, "How infinitely am I

beholden to you, my good mother! I should never have thought of

so ingenious a contrivance. It cannot fail of success, and I

begin to recover my peace. I leave the care of the wooden figure

to you, and will go myself to order the rest."

The wooden image was got ready with as much expedition as Zobeide

could have wished, and then conveyed by the old lady herself into

Fetnah's bed-chamber, where she dressed it like a dead body, and

put it into a coffin. Then Mesrour, who was himself deceived by

it, caused the coffin and the representation of Fetnah to be

carried away, and buried with the usual ceremonies in the place

appointed by Zobeide, the favourite's women weeping and

lamenting, she who had given her the lemonade setting them an

example by her cries and lamentations.

That very day Zobeide sent for the architect of the palace, and,

according to orders, the mausoleum was finished in a short time.

Such potent princesses as the consort of a monarch, whose power

extended from east to west, are always punctually obeyed in

whatsoever they command. She soon put on mourning with all the

court; so that the news of Fetnah's death was quickly spread over

the city.

Ganem was one of the last who heard of it; for, as I have before

observed, he hardly ever went abroad. Being, however, at length

informed of it, "Madam," said he to the caliph's fair favourite,

"you are supposed in Bagdad to be dead, and I do not question but

that Zobeide herself believes it. I bless heaven that I am the

cause, and the happy witness of your being alive; would to God,

that, taking advantage of this false report, you would share my

fortune, and go far from hence to reign in my heart! But whither

does this pleasing transport carry me? I do not consider that you

are born to make the greatest prince in the world happy; and that

only Haroon al Rusheed is worthy of you. Supposing you could

resolve to give him up for me, and that you would follow me,

ought I to consent? No, it is my part always to remember, ‘that

what belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.'"

The lovely Fetnah, though moved by the tenderness of the passion

he expressed, yet prevailed with herself not to encourage it. "My

lord," said she to him, "we cannot obstruct the momentary triumph

of Zobeide. I am not surprised at the artifice she uses to

conceal her guilt: but let her go on; I flatter myself that

sorrow will soon follow her triumph. The caliph will return, and

we shall find the means privately to inform him of all that has

happened. In the mean time let us be more cautious than ever,

that she may not know I am alive. I have already told you the

consequences to be apprehended from such a discovery."

At the end of three months the caliph returned to Bagdad with

glory, having vanquished all his enemies. He entered the palace

with impatience to embrace Fetnah; but was amazed to see all the

officers in mourning; and his concern was redoubled when,

approaching the apartment of Zobeide, he beheld that princess

coming to meet him in mourning with all her women. He immediately

asked her the cause, with much agitation. "Commander of the

believers," answered Zobeide, "I am in mourning for your slave

Fetnah; who died so suddenly that it was impossible to apply any

remedy to her disorder." She would have proceeded, but the caliph

did not give her time, being so agitated at the news, that he

uttered a feeble exclamation, and fainted. On recovering himself,

he, with a feeble voice, which sufficiently expressed his extreme

grief, asked where his dear Fetnah had been buried. "Sir," said

Zobeide, "I myself took care of her funeral, and spared no cost

to make it magnificent. I have caused a marble mausoleum to be

built over her grave, and will attend you thither if you desire."

The caliph would not permit Zobeide to take that trouble, but

contented himself to have Mesrour to conduct him. He went thither

just as he was, in his camp dress. When he saw the tomb, the wax-

lights round it, and the magnificence of the mausoleum, he was

amazed that Zobeide should have performed the obsequies of her

rival with so much pomp; and being naturally of a jealous temper,

suspected his wife's generosity and fancied his mistress might

perhaps be yet alive; that Zobeide, taking advantage of his long

absence, might have turned her out of the palace, ordering those

she had entrusted to conduct her, to convey her so far off that

she might never more be heard of. This was all he suspected; for

he did not think Zobeide wicked enough to have attempted the life

of his favourite.

The better to discover the truth himself, he ordered the tomb to

be removed, and caused the grave and the coffin to be opened in

his presence; but when he saw the linen wrapped round the wooden

image, he durst not proceed any farther. This devout caliph

thought it would be a sacrilegious act to suffer the body of the

dead lady to be touched; and this scrupulous fear prevailed over

his love and curiosity. He doubted not of Fetnah's death. He

caused the coffin to be shut up again, the grave to be filled,

and the tomb to be made as it was before.

The caliph thinking himself obliged to pay some respect to the

grave of his favourite, sent for the ministers of religion, the

officers of the palace, and the readers of the Koraun; and,

whilst they were collecting together, he remained in the

mausoleum, moistening with his tears the marble that covered the

phantom of his mistress. When all the persons he had sent for

were come, he stood before the tomb, and recited long prayers;

after which the readers of the Koraun read several, chapters.

The same ceremony was performed every day for a whole month,

morning and evening, the caliph being always present, with the

grand vizier, and the principal officers of the court, all of

them in mourning, as well as the caliph himself, who all the time

ceased not to honour the memory of Fetnah with his tears, and

would not hear of any business.

The last day of the month, the prayers and reading of the Koraun

lasted from morning till break of day the next morning. The

caliph, being tired with sitting up so long, went to take some

rest in his apartment, and fell asleep upon a sofa, between two

of the court ladies, one of them sitting at the bed's-head, and

the other at the feet, who, whilst he slept, were working some

embroidery, and observed a profound silence.

She who sat at the bed's-head, and whose name was Nouron-Nihar,

perceiving the caliph was asleep, whispered to the other, called

Nagmatos Sohi,"There is great news! The commander of the

believers our master will be overjoyed when he awakes, and hears

what I have to tell him; Fetnah is not dead, she is in perfect

health." "O heavens!" cried Nagmatos Sohi, in a transport of joy,

"is it possible, that the beautiful, the charming, the

incomparable Fetnah should be still among the living?" She

uttered these words with so much vivacity, and so loud, that the

caliph awoke. He asked why they had disturbed his rest? "Alas! my

sovereign lord," answered the slave, "pardon me this

indiscretion; I could not without transport hear that Fetnah is

still alive; it caused such emotion in me, as I could not

suppress." "What then is become of her," demanded the caliph, "if

she is not dead?" "Chief of the believers," replied the other, "I

this evening received a note from a person unknown, written with

Fetnah's own hand; she gives me an account of her melancholy

adventure, and orders me to acquaint you with it. I thought fit,

before I fulfilled my commission, to let you take some few

moments' rest, believing you must stand in need of it, after your

fatigue; and----"

"Give me that note," said the caliph, interrupting her eagerly,

"you were wrong to defer delivering it to me."

The slave immediately presented to him the note, which he opened

with much impatience, and in it Fetnah gave a particular account

of all that had befallen her, but enlarged a little too much on

the attentions of Ganem. The caliph, who was naturally jealous,

instead of being provoked at the inhumanity of Zobeide, was more

concerned at the infidelity he fancied Fetnah had been guilty of

towards him. "Is it so?" said he, after reading the note; "the

perfidious wretch has been four months with a young merchant, and

has the effrontery to boast of his attention to her. Thirty days

are past since my return to Bagdad, and she now thinks of sending

me news of herself. Ungrateful creature! whilst I spend the days

in bewailing her, she passes them in betraying me. Go to, let us

take vengeance of a bold woman, and that bold youth who affronts

me." Having spoken these words, the caliph rose, and went into a

hall where he used to appear in public, and give audience to his

court. The first gate was opened, and immediately all the

courtiers, who were waiting without, entered. The grand vizier,

came in, and prostrated himself before the throne. Then rising,

he stood before his master, who, in a tone which denoted he would

be instantly obeyed, said to him, "Jaaffier, your presence is

requisite, for putting in execution an important affair I am

about to commit to you. Take four hundred men of my guards with

you, and first inquire where a merchant of Damascus lives whose

name is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub. When you have learnt this,

repair to his house, and cause it to be razed to the foundations;

but first secure Ganem, and bring him hither, with my slave

Fetnah, who has lived with him these four months. I will punish

her, and make an example of that insolent man, who has presumed

to fail in respell to me."

The grand vizier, having received this positive command, made a

low prostration to the caliph, having his hand on his head, in

token that he would rather lose it than disobey him, and

departed. The first thing he did, was to send to the syndic of

the dealers in foreign stuffs and silks, with strict orders to

find out the house of the unfortunate merchant. The officer he

sent with these orders brought him back word, that he had

scarcely been seen for some months, and no man knew what could

keep him at home, if he was there. The same officer likewise told

Jaaffier where Ganem lived.

Upon this information, that minister, without losing time, went

to the judge of the police, whom he caused to bear him company,

and attended by a great number of carpenters and masons, with the

necessary tools for razing a house, came to Ganem's residence;

and finding it stood detached

from any other, he posted his soldiers round it, to prevent the

young merchant's making his escape.

Fetnah and Ganem had just dined: the lady was sitting at a window

next the street; hearing a noise, she looked out through the

lattice, and seeing the grand vizier, approach with his

attendants, concluded she was their object as well as Ganem. She

perceived her note had been received, but had not expected such a

consequence, having hoped that the caliph would have taken the

matter in a different light. She knew not how long the prince had

been returned from his campaign, and though she was acquainted

with his jealous temper, yet apprehended nothing on that account.

However, the sight of the grand vizier, and the soldiers made her

tremble, not indeed for herself, but for Ganem: she did not

question clearing herself, provided the caliph would but hear

her. As for Ganem, whom she loved less out of gratitude than

inclination, she plainly foresaw that his incensed rival might be

apt to condemn him, on account of his youth and person. Full of

this thought, she turned to the young merchant and said, "Alas!

Ganem, we are undone." Ganem looked through the lattice, and was

seized with dread, when he beheld the caliph's guards with their

naked cimeters, and the grand vizier, with the civil magistrate

at the head of them. At this sight he stood motionless, and had

not power to utter one word. "Ganem," said the favourite, "there

is no time to be lost; if you love me, put on the habit of one of

your slaves immediately, and disfigure your face and arms with

soot. Then put some of these dishes on your head; you may be

taken for a servant belonging to the eating house, and they will

let you pass. If they happen to ask you where the master of the

house is, answer, without any hesitation, that he is within."

"Alas! madam," answered Harem, concerned for himself than for

Fetnah, "you only take care of me, what will become of you?" "Let

not that trouble you," replied Fetnah, "it is my part to look to

that. As for what you leave in this house, I will take care of

it, and I hope it will be one day faithfully restored to you,

when the caliph's anger shall be over; but at present avoid his

fury. The orders he gives in the heat of passion are always

fatal." The young merchant's affliction was so great, that he

knew not what course to pursue, and would certainly have suffered

himself to be seized by the caliph's soldiers, had not Fetnah

pressed him to disguise himself. He submitted to her persuasions,

put on the habit of a slave, daubed himself with soot, and as

they were knocking at the door, all they could do was to embrace

each other tenderly. They were both so overwhelmed with sorrow,

that they could not utter a word. Thus they parted. Ganem went

out with some dishes on his head: he was taken for the servant of

an eating-house, and no one offered to stop him. On the contrary,

the grand vizier, who was the first that met him, gave way and

let him pass, little thinking that he was the man he looked for.

Those who were behind the grand vizier, made way as he had done,

and thus favoured his escape He soon reached one of the gates,

and got clear of the city.

Whilst he was making the best of his way from the grand vizier,

that minister came into the room where Fetnah was sitting on a

sofa, and where there were many chests full of Ganem's clothes,

and of the money he had made of his goods.

As soon as Fetnah saw the grand vizier, come into the room, she

fell upon her face, and continuing in that posture, as it were to

receive her death; "My lord," said she, "I am ready to undergo

the sentence passed against me by the commander of the believers;

you need only make it known to me." "Madam," answered Jaaffier,

falling also down till she had raised herself, "God forbid any

man should presume to lay profane hands on you. I do not intend

to offer you the least harm. I have no farther orders, than to

intreat you will be pleased to go with me to the palace, and to

conduct you thither, with the merchant that lives in this house."

"My lord," replied the favourite, "let us go; I am ready to

follow you. As for the young merchant, to whom I am indebted for

my life, he is not here, he has been gone about a month since to

Damascus, whither his business called him, and has left these

chests you see under my care, till he returns. I conjure you to

cause them to be carried to the palace, and order them to be

secured, that I may perform the promise I made him to take all

possible care of them."

"You shall be obeyed," said Jaaffier, and immediately sent for

porters, whom he commanded to take up the chests, and carry them

to Mesrour.

As soon as the porters were gone, he whispered the civil

magistrate, committing to him the care of seeing the house razed,

but first to cause diligent search to be made for Ganem, who, he

suspected, might be hidden, notwithstanding what Fetnah had told

him. He then went out, taking her with him, attended by the two

slaves who waited on her. As for Ganem's slaves, they were not

regarded; they ran in among the crowd, and it was not known what

became of them.

No sooner was Jaaffier out of the house, than the masons and

carpenters began to demolish it, and did their business so

effectually, that in a few hours none of it remained. But the

civil magistrate, not finding Ganem, after the strictest search,

sent to acquaint the grand vizier, before that minister reached

the palace. "Well," said Haroon al Rusheed, seeing him come into

his closet, "have you executed my orders?" "Yes," answered

Jaaffier "the house Ganem lived in is levelled with the ground,

and I have brought you your favourite Fetnah; she is at your

closet door, and I will call her in, if you command me. As for

the young merchant, we could not find him, though every place has

been searched, and Fetnah affirms that he has been gone a month

to Damascus."

Never was passion equal to that of the caliph, when he heard that

Ganem had made his escape. As for his favourite, believing that

she had been false to him, he would neither see nor speak to her.

"Mesrour," said he to the chief of the eunuchs, who was then

present, "take the ungrateful and perfidious Fetnah, and shut her

up in the dark tower." That tower was within the precinct of the

palace, and commonly served as a prison for the favourites who

any way offended the caliph.

Mesrour being used to execute his sovereign's orders, however

unjust, without making any answer, obeyed this with some

reluctance. He signified his concern to Fetnah, who was the more

grieved because she had assured herself, that the caliph would

not refuse to speak to her. She was obliged to submit to her hard

fate, and to follow Mesrour, who conducted her to the dark tower,

and there left her.

In the mean time, the enraged caliph dismissed his grand vizier,

and only hearkening to his passion, wrote the following letter

with his own hand to the king of Syria, his cousin and tributary,

who resided at Damascus.

"This letter is to inform you, that a merchant of Damascus, whose

name is Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub, has seduced the most

amiable of my women slaves, called Fetnah, and is fled. It is my

will, that when you have read my letter, you cause search to be

made for Ganem, and secure him. When he is in your power, you

shall cause him to be loaded with irons, and for three days

successively let him receive fifty strokes of the bastinado. Then

let him be led through all parts of the city by a crier,

proclaiming, ‘This is the smallest punishment the commander of

the believers inflicts on him that offends his lord, and

debauches one of his slaves.' After that you shall send him to me

under a strong guard. It is my will that you cause his house to

be plundered; and after it has been razed, order the materials to

be carried out of the city into the middle of the plain. Besides

this, if he has father, mother, sister, wives, daughters, or

other kindred, cause them to be stripped; and when they are

naked, expose them three days to the whole city, forbidding any

person on pain of death to afford them shelter. I expect you will

without delay execute my command."

The caliph having written this letter, dispatched it by an

express, ordering him to make all possible speed, and to take

pigeons along with him, that he might the sooner hear what had

been done by Mahummud Zinebi.

The pigeons of Bagdad have this peculiar quality, that from

wherever they may be carried to, they return to Bagdad as soon as

they are set at liberty, especially when they have young ones. A

letter rolled up is made fast under their wing, and by that means

advice is speedily received from such places as it is desired.

The caliph's courier travelled night and day, as his master's

impatience required; and being come to Damascus, went directly to

king Zinebi's palace, who sat upon his throne to receive the

caliph's letter. The courier having delivered it, Mahummud

looking at it, and knowing the hand, stood up to shew his

respect, kissed the letter, and laid it on his head, to denote he

was ready submissively to obey the orders it contained. He opened

it, and having read it, immediately descended from his throne,

and without losing time, mounted on horseback with the principal

officers of his household. He sent for the civil magistrate; and

went directly to Ganem's house, attended by all his guards.

Ganem's mother had never received any letter from him since he

had left Damascus; but the other merchants with whom he went to

Bagdad were returned, and all of them told her they had left her

son in perfect however, seeing he did not return, she could not

but be persuaded that he was dead, and was so fully convinced of

this in her imagination, that she went into mourning. She

bewailed Ganem as if she had seen him die, and had herself closed

his eyes: never mother expressed greater sorrow; and so far was

she from seeking any comfort, that she delighted in indulging her

grief. She had caused a dome to be built in the middle of the

court belonging to her house, in which she placed a tomb. She

spent the greatest part of the days and nights in weeping under

that dome, as if her son had been buried there: her daughter bore

her company, and mixed her tears with hers.

It was now some time since they had thus devoted themselves to

sorrow, and the neighbourhood, hearing their cries and

lamentations, pitied such tender relations, when king Mahummud

Zinebi knocked at the door, which being opened by a slave

belonging to the family, he hastily entered the house, inquiring

for Ganem, the son of Abou Ayoub.

Though the slave had never seen king Zinebi, she guessed by his

retinue that he must be one of the principal officers of

Damascus. "My lord," said she, "that Ganem you inquire for is

dead; my mistress, his mother, is in that monument, lamenting

him." The king, not regarding what was said by the slave, caused

all the house to be diligently searched by his guards for Ganem.

He then advanced towards the monument, where he saw the mother

and daughter sitting on a mat, and their faces appeared to him

bathed in tears. These poor women immediately veiled themselves,

as soon as they beheld a man at the door of the dome; but the

mother, knowing the king of Damascus, got up, and ran to cast

herself at his feet. "My good lady," said he, "I was looking for

your son, Ganem, is he here?" "Alas! sir," cried the mother, "it

is a long time since he has ceased to be: would to God I had at

least put him into his coffin with my own hands, and had had the

comfort of having his bones in this monument! O my son, my dear

son!" She would have said more, but was oppressed with such

violent sorrow that she was unable to proceed.

Zinebi was moved; for he was a prince of a mild nature, and had

much compassion for the sufferings of the unfortunate. "If Ganem

alone be guilty," thought he to himself, "why should the mother

and the daughter, who are innocent, be punished? Ah! cruel Haroon

al Rusheed! what a mortification do you put upon me, in making me

the executioner of your vengeance, obliging me to persecute

persons who have not offended you."

The guards whom the king had ordered to search for Ganem, came

and told him their search had been vain. He was fully convinced

of this; the tears of those two women would not leave him any

room to doubt. It distracted him to be obliged to execute the

caliph's order. "My good lady," said he to Ganem's mother, "quit

this monument with your daughter, it is no place of safety for

you." They went out, and he, to secure them against any insult,

took off his own robe, and covered them both with it, bidding

them keep close to him. He then ordered the populace to be let in

to plunder, which was performed with the utmost rapaciousness,

and with shouts which terrified Ganem's mother and sister the

more, because they knew not the reason. The rabble carried off

the richest goods, chests full of wealth, fine Persian and Indian

carpets, cushions covered with cloth of gold and silver, fine

China ware; in short, all was taken away, till nothing remained

but the bare walls of the house: and it was a dismal spectacle

for the unhappy ladies, to see all their goods plundered, without

knowing why they were so cruelly treated.

When the house was plundered, Mahummud ordered the civil

magistrate to raze the house and monument; and while that was

doing, he carried away the mother and daughter to his palace.

There it was he redoubled their affliction, by acquainting them

with the caliph's will. "He commands me," said he to them, "to

cause you to be stripped, and exposed naked for three days to the

view of the people. It is with the utmost reluctance that I

execute such a cruel and ignominious sentence." The king

delivered these words with such an air, as plainly made it appear

his heart was really pierced with grief and compassion. Though

the fear of being dethroned prevented his following the dictates

of his pity, yet he in some measure moderated the rigour of the

caliph's orders, by causing large shifts, without sleeves, to be

made of coarse horse-hair for Ganem's mother, and his sister.

The next day, these two victims of the caliph's rage were

stripped of their clothes, and their horse-hair shifts put upon

them; their head-dress was also taken away, so that their

dishevelled hair hung floating on their backs. The daughter had

the finest hair, and it hung down to the ground. In this

condition they were exposed to the people. The civil magistrate,

attended by his officers, were along with them, and they were

conducted through the city. A crier went before them, who every

now and then cried, "This is the punishment due to those who have

drawn on themselves the indignation of the commander of the

believers."

Whilst they walked in this manner along the streets of Damascus,

with their arms and feet naked, clad in such a strange garment,

and endeavouring to hide their confusion under their hair, with

which they covered their faces, all the people were dissolved in

tears; more especially the ladies, considering them as innocent

persons, as they beheld them through their lattice windows, and

being particularly moved by the daughter's youth and beauty, they

made the air ring with their shrieks, as they passed before their

houses. The very children, frightened at those shrieks, and at

the spectacle that occasioned them, mixed their cries with the

general lamentation. In short, had an enemy been in Damascus,

putting all to fire and sword, the consternation could not have

been greater.

It was near night when this dismal scene concluded. The mother

and daughter were both conducted back to king Mahummud's palace.

Not being used to walk bare-foot, they were so spent, that they

lay a long time in a swoon. The queen of Damascus, highly

afflicted at their misfortunes, notwithstanding the caliph's

prohibition to relieve them, sent some of her women to comfort

them, with all sorts of refreshments and wine, to recover their

spirits.

The queen's women found them still in a swoon, and almost past

receiving any benefit by what they offered them. However, with

much difficulty they were brought to themselves. Ganem's mother

immediately returned them thanks for their courtesy. "My good

madam," said one of the queen's ladies to her, "we are highly

concerned at your affliction, and the queen of Syria, our

mistress, has done us a favour in employing us to assist you. We

can assure you, that princess is much afflicted at your

misfortunes, as well as the king her consort." Ganem's mother

entreated the queen's women to return her majesty a thousand

thanks from her and her daughter, and then directing her

discourse to the lady who spoke to her, "Madam," said she, "the

king has not told me why the chief of the believers inflicts so

many outrages on us: pray be pleased to tell us what crimes we

have been guilty of." "My good lady," answered the other, "the

origin of your misfortunes proceeds from your son Ganem. He is

not dead, as you imagine. He is accused of having seduced the

beautiful Fetnah, the best beloved of the caliph's favourites;

but having, by flight, withdrawn himself from that prince's

indignation, the punishment is fallen on you. All condemn the

caliph's resentment, but all fear him; and you see king Zinebi

himself dares not resist his orders, for fear of incurring his

displeasure. All we can do is to pity you, and exhort you to have

patience."

"I know my son," answered Ganem's mother; "I have educated him

carefully, and in that respect which is due to the commander of

the believers. He cannot have committed the crime he is accused

of; I dare answer for his innocence. But I will cease to murmur

and complain, since it is for him that I suffer, and he is not

dead. O Ganem!" added she, in a transport of affection and joy,

"my dear son Ganem! is possible that you are still alive? I am no

longer concerned for the loss of my fortune; and how harsh and

unjust soever the caliph's orders may be, I forgive him, provided

heaven has preserved my son. I am only concerned for my daughter;

her sufferings alone afflict me; yet I believe her to be so good

a sister as to follow my example."

On hearing these words, the young lady, who till then had

appeared insensible, turned to her mother, and clasping her arms

about her neck, "Yes, dear mother," said she, "I will always

follow your example, whatever extremity your love for my brother

may reduce us to."

The mother and daughter thus interchanging their sighs and tears,

continued a considerable time in such moving embraces. In the

mean time the queen's women, who were much affected at the

spectacle, omitted no persuasions to prevail with Ganem's mother

to take some sustenance. She ate a morsel out of complaisance,

and her daughter did the like.

The caliph having ordered that Ganem's kindred should be exposed

three days successively to the sight of the people, in the

condition already mentioned, the unhappy ladies afforded the same

spectacle the second time next day, from morning till night. But

that day and the following, the streets, which at first had been

full of people, were now quite empty. All the merchants, incensed

at the ill usage of Abou Ayoub's widow and daughter, shut up

their shops, and kept themselves close within their houses. The

ladies, instead of looking through their lattice windows,

withdrew into the back parts of their houses. There was not a

person to be seen in the public places through which those

unfortunate women were carried. It seemed as if all the

inhabitants of Damascus had abandoned their city.

On the fourth day, the king resolving punctually to obey the

caliph's orders, though he did not approve of them, sent criers

into all quarters of the city to make proclamation, strictly

commanding all the inhabitants of Damascus, and strangers, of

what condition soever, upon pain of death, and having their

bodies cast to the dogs to be devoured, not to receive Ganem's

mother and sister into their houses, or give them a morsel of

bread or a drop of water, and, in a word, not to afford them the

least support, or hold the least correspondence with them.

When the criers had performed what the king had enjoined them,

that prince ordered the mother and the daughter to be turned out

of the palace, and left to their choice to go where they thought

fit. As soon as they appeared, all persons fled from them, so

great an impression had the late prohibition made upon all. They

easily perceived that every body shunned them; but not knowing

the reason, were much surprised; and their amazement was the

greater, when coming into any street, or among any persons, they

recollected some of their best friends, who immediately retreated

with as much haste as the rest. "What is the meaning of this,"

said Ganem's mother; "do we carry the plague about us? Must the

unjust and barbarous usage we have received render us odious to

our fellow-citizens? Come, my child," added she, "let us depart

from Damascus with all speed; let us not stay any longer in a

city where we are become frightful to our very friends."

The two wretched ladies, discoursing in this manner, came to one

of the extremities of the city, and retired to a ruined house to

pass the night. Thither some Mussulmauns, out of charity and

compassion, resorted to them after the day was shut in. They

carried them provisions, but durst not stay to comfort them, for

fear of being discovered, and punished for disobeying the

caliph's orders.

In the mean time king Zinebi had let fly a pigeon to give the

caliph an account of his exact obedience. He informed him of all

that had been executed, and conjured him to direct what he would

have done with Ganem's mother and sister. He soon received the

caliph's answer in the same way, which was, that he should banish

them from Damascus for ever. Immediately the king of Syria sent

men to the old house, with orders to take the mother and

daughter, and to conduct them three days' journey from Damascus,

and there to leave them, forbidding them ever to return to the

city.

Zinebi's men executed their commission, but being less exact

their master, in the strict performance of the caliph's orders,

they in pity gave the wretched ladies some small pieces of money,

and each of them a scrip, which they hung about their necks, to

carry their provisions.

In this miserable state they came to the first village. The

peasants' wives flocked about them, and, as it appeared through

their disguise that they were people of some condition, asked

them what was the occasion of their travelling in a habit that

did not seem to belong to them. Instead of answering the

question, they fell to weeping, which only served to heighten the

curiosity of the peasants, and to move their compassion. Ganem's

mother told them what she and her daughter had endured; at which

the good countrywomen were sensibly afflicted, and endeavoured to

comfort them. They treated them as well as their poverty would

permit, took off their horse-hair shifts, which were very uneasy

to them, and put on them others which they gave them, with shoes,

and something to cover their heads, and save their hair.

Having expressed their gratitude to those charitable women, Jalib

al Koolloob and her mother departed from that village, taking

short journeys towards Aleppo. They used at dusk to retire near

or into the mosques, where they passed the night on the mat, if

there was any, or else on the bare pavement; and sometimes rested

in the public places appointed for the use of travellers. As for

sustenance, they did not want, for they often came to places

where bread, boiled rice, and other provisions are distributed to

all travellers who desire it.

At length they came to Aleppo, but would not stay there, and

continuing their journey towards the Euphrates, crossed the

river, and entered Mesopotamia, which they traversed as far as

Moussoul. Thence, notwithstanding all they had endured, they

proceeded to Bagdad. That was the place they had fixed their

thoughts upon, hoping to find Ganem, though they ought not to

have fancied that he was in a city where the caliph resided; but

they hoped, because they wished it; their affection for him

increasing instead of diminishing, with their misfortunes. Their

conversation was generally about him, and they inquired for him

of all they met. But let us leave Jalib al Koolloob and her

mother, and return to Fetnah.

She was still confined closely in the dark tower, since the day

that had been so fatal to Ganem and herself. However,

disagreeable as her prison was to her, it was much less grievous

than the thoughts of Ganem's misfortune, the uncertainty of whose

fate was a killing affliction. There was scarcely a moment in

which she did not lament him.

The caliph was accustomed to walk frequently at night within the

enclosure of his palace, for he was the most inquisitive prince

in the world, and sometimes, by those night-walks, came to the

knowledge of things that happened in his court, which would

otherwise never have reached his ear. One of those nights, in his

walk, he happened to pass by the dark tower, and fancying he

heard somebody talk, stops, and drawing near the door to listen,

distinctly heard these words, which Fetnah, whose thoughts were

always on Ganem, uttered with a loud voice: "O Ganem, too

unfortunate Ganem! where are you at this time, whither has thy

cruel fate led thee? Alas! it is I that have made you wretched!

why did you not let me perish miserably, rather than afford me

your generous relief? What melancholy return have you received

for your care and respect? The commander of the faithful, who

ought to have rewarded, persecutes you; and in requital for

having always regarded me as a person reserved for his bed, you

lose your fortune, and are obliged to seek for safety in flight.

O caliph, barbarous caliph, how can you exculpate yourself, when

you shall appear with Ganem before the tribunal of the Supreme

Judge, and the angels shall testify the truth before your face?

All the power you are now invested with, and which makes almost

the whole world tremble, will not prevent your being condemned

and punished for your violent and unjust proceedings." Here

Fetnah ceased her complaints, her sighs and tears putting a stop

to her utterance.

This was enough to make the caliph reflect. He plainly perceived,

that if what he had heard was true, his favourite must be

innocent, and that he had been too hasty in giving such orders

against Ganem and his family. Being resolved to be rightly

informed in an affair which so nearly concerned him in point of

equity, on which he valued himself, he immediately returned to

his apartment, and that moment ordered Mesrour to repair to the

dark tower, and bring Fetnah before him.

By this command, and much more by the caliph's manner of

speaking, the chief of the eunuchs guessed that his master

designed to pardon his favourite, and take her to him again. He

was overjoyed at the thought, for he respected Fetnah, and had

been much concerned at her disgrace; therefore flying instantly

to the tower, "Madam," said he to the favourite, with such an air

as expressed his satisfaction, "be pleased to follow me; I hope

you will never more return to this melancholy abode: the

commander of the faithful wishes to speak with you, and I draw

from this a happy omen."

Fetnah followed Mesrour, who conducted her into the caliph's

closet. She prostrated herself before him, and so continued, her

face bathed in tears. "Fetnah," said the caliph, without bidding

her rise, "I think you charge me with violence and injustice. Who

is he, that, notwithstanding the regard and respell he had for

me, is in a miserable condition? Speak freely, you know the

natural goodness of my disposition, and that I love to do

justice."

By these words the favourite was convinced that the caliph had

heard what she had said, and availed herself of so favourable an

opportunity to clear Ganem. "Commander of the true believers,"

said she, "if I have let fall any word that is not agreeable to

your majesty, I most humbly beseech you to forgive me; but he

whose innocence and wretched state you desire to be informed of

is Ganem, the unhappy son of Abou Ayoub, late a rich merchant of

Damascus. He saved my life from a grave, and afforded me a

sanctuary in his house. I must own, that, from the first moment

he saw me, he perhaps designed to devote himself to me, and

conceived hopes of engaging me to admit his love. I guessed at

this, by the eagerness which he shewed in entertaining me, and

doing me all the good offices I so much wanted under the

circumstances I was then in; but as soon as he heard that I had

the honour to belong to you, ‘Ah, madam,' said he, ‘that which

belongs to the master is forbidden to the slave.' From that

moment, I owe this justice to his virtue to declare, his

behaviour was always suitable to his words. You, commander of the

true believers, well know with what rigour you have treated him,

and you will answer for it before the tribunal of God."

The caliph was not displeased with Fetnah for the freedom of

these words; "But may I," said he, "rely on the assurance you

give me of Ganem's virtue?" "Yes," replied Fetnah, "you may. I

would not for the world conceal the truth from you; and to prove

to you that I am sincere, I must make a confession, which perhaps

may displease you, but I beg pardon of your majesty beforehand."

"Speak, daughter," said Haroon al Rusheed, "I forgive you all,

provided you conceal nothing from me." "Well, then," replied

Fetnah, "let me inform you, that Ganem's respectful behaviour,

joined to all the good offices he did me, gained him my esteem. I

went further yet: you know the tyranny of love: I felt some

tender inclination rising in my breast. He perceived it; but far

from availing himself of my frailty, and notwithstanding the

flame which consumed him, he still remained steady in his duty,

and all that his passion could force from him were the words I

have already repeated to your majesty, ‘That which belongs to the

master is forbidden to the slave.'"

This ingenuous confession might have provoked any other man than

the caliph; but it completely appeased that prince. He commanded

her to rise, and making her sit by him, "Tell me your story,"

said he, "from the beginning to the end." She did so, with

artless simplicity, passing slightly over what regarded Zobeide,

and enlarging on the obligations she owed to Ganem; but above

all, she highly extolled his discretion, endeavouring by that

means to make the caliph sensible that she had been under the

necessity of remaining concealed in Ganem's house, to deceive

Zobeide. She concluded with the young merchant's escape, which

she plainly told the caliph she had compelled him to, that he

might avoid his indignation.

When she had done speaking, the caliph said to her, "I believe

all you have told me; but why was it so long before you let me

hear from you? Was there any need of staying a whole month after

my return, before you sent me word where you were?" "Commander of

the true believers," answered Fetnah, "Ganem went abroad so very

seldom, that you need not wonder we were not the first that heard

of your return. Besides, Ganem, who took upon him to deliver the

letter I wrote to Nouron Nihar, was a long time before he could

find an opportunity of putting it into her own hands."

"It is enough, Fetnah," replied the caliph; "I acknowledge my

fault, and would willingly make amends for it, by heaping favours

on the young merchant of Damascus. Consider, therefore, what I

can do for him. Ask what you think fit, and I will grant it."

Hereupon the favourite fell down at the caliph's feet, with her

face to the ground; and rising again, said, "Commander of the

true believers, after returning your majesty thanks for Ganem, I

most humbly entreat you to cause it to be published throughout

your do minions, that you pardon the son of Abou Ayoub, and that

he may safely come to you." "I must do more," rejoined the

prince, "in requital for having saved your life, and the respect

he has strewn for me, to make amends for the loss of his fortune.

In short, to repair the wrong I have done to himself and his

family, I give him to you for a husband." Fetnah had no words

expressive enough to thank the caliph for his generosity: she

then withdrew into the apartment she had occupied before her

melancholy adventure. The same furniture was still in it, nothing

had been removed; but that which pleased her most was, to find

Ganem's chests and bales, which Mesrour had received the caliph's

orders to convey thither.

The next day Haroon al Rusheed ordered the grand vizier, to cause

proclamation to be made throughout all his dominions, that he

pardoned Ganem the son of Abou Ayoub; but this proved of no

effect, for a long time elapsed without any news of the young

merchant. Fetnah concluded, that he had not been able to survive

the pain of losing her. A dreadful uneasiness seized her mind;

but as hope is the last thing which forsakes lovers, she

entreated the caliph to give her leave to seek for Ganem herself;

which being granted, she took a purse containing a thousand

pieces of gold, and went one morning out of the palace, mounted

on a mule from the caliph's stables, very richly caparisoned.

Black eunuchs attended her, with a hand placed on each side of

the mule's back.

Thus she went from mosque to mosque, bestowing her alms among the

devotees of the Mahummedan religion, desiring their prayers for

the accomplishment of an affair, on which the happiness of two

persons, she told them, depended. She spend the whole day and the

thousand pieces of gold in giving alms at the mosques, and

returned to the palace in the evening.

The next day she took another purse of the same value, and in the

like equipage as the day before, went to the square of the

jewellers' shops, and stopping at the gateway without alighting,

sent one of her black eunuchs for the syndic or chief of them.

The syndic, who was a most charitable man, and spent above two-

thirds of his income in relieving poor strangers, sick or in

distress, did not make Fetnah wait, knowing by her dress that she

was a lady belonging to the palace. "I apply myself to you," said

she, putting the purse into his hands, "as a person whose piety

is celebrated throughout the city. I desire you to distribute

that gold among the poor strangers you relieve, for I know you

make it your business to assist those who apply to your charity.

I am also satisfied that you prevent their wants, and that

nothing is more grateful to you, than to have an opportunity of

relieving their misery." "Madam," answered the syndic, "I shall

obey your commands with pleasure; but if you desire to exercise

your charity in person, and will be pleased to step to my house,

you will there see two women worthy of your compassion; I met

them yesterday as they were coming into the city; they were in a

deplorable condition, and it moved me the more, because I thought

they were persons of rank. Through all the rags that covered

them, notwithstanding the impression the sun has made on their

faces, I discovered a noble air, not to be commonly found in

those people I relieve. I carried them both to my house, and

delivered them to my wife, who was of the same opinion with me.

She caused her slaves to provide them good beds, whilst she

herself led them to our warm bath, and gave them clean linen. We

know not as yet who they are, because we wish to let them take

some rest before we trouble them with our questions."

Fetnah, without knowing why, felt a curiosity to see them. The

syndic would have conducted her to his house, but she would not

give him the trouble, and was satisfied that a slave should shew

her the way. She alighted at the door, and followed the syndic's

slave, who was gone before to give notice to his mistress, she

being then in the chamber with Jalib al Koolloob and her mother,

for they were the persons the syndic had been speaking of to

Fetnah.

The syndic's wife being informed by the slave, that a lady from

the palace was in her house, was hastening to meet her; but

Fetnah, who had followed the slave, did not give her time: on her

coming into the chamber, the syndic's wife prostrated herself

before her, to express the respect she had for all who belonged

to the caliph. Fetnah raised her up, and said, "My good lady, I

desire you will let me speak with those two strangers that

arrived at Bagdad last night." "Madam," answered the syndic's

wife, "they lie in those beds you see by each other." The

favourite immediately drew near the mother's, and viewing her

carefully, "Good woman," said she, "I come to offer you my

assistance: I have considerable interest in this city, and may be

of service to you and your companion." "Madam," answered Ganem's

mother, "I perceive by your obliging offers, that Heaven has not

quite forsaken us, though we had cause to believe it had, after

so many misfortunes as have befallen us." Having uttered these

words, she wept so bitterly that Fetnah and the syndic's wife

could not forbear letting fall some tears.

The caliph's favourite having dried up hers, said to Ganem's

mother, "Be so kind as to tell us your misfortunes, and recount

your story. You cannot make the relation to any persons better

disposed to use all possible means to comfort you." "Madam,"

replied Abou Ayoub's disconsolate widow, "a favourite of the

commander of the true believers, a lady whose name is Fetnah, is

the occasion of all our misfortunes." These words were like a

thunderbolt to the favourite; but suppressing her agitation and

concern, she suffered Ganem's mother to proceed in the following

manner: "I am the widow of Abou Ayoub, a merchant of Damascus; I

had a son called Ganem, who, coming to trade at Bagdad, has been

accused of carrying off Fetnah. The caliph caused search to be

made for him every where, to put him to death; but not finding

him, he wrote to the king of Damascus, to cause our house to be

plundered and razed, and to expose my daughter and myself three

days successively, naked, to the populace, and then to banish us

out of Syria for ever. But how unworthy soever our usage has

been, I should be still comforted were my son alive, and I could

meet with him. What a pleasure would it be for his sister and me

to see him again! Embracing him we should forget the loss of our

property, and all the evils we have suffered on his account.

Alas! I am fully persuaded he is only the innocent cause of them;

and that he is no more guilty towards the caliph than his sister

and myself."

"No doubt of it," said Fetnah, interrupting her there, "he is no

more guilty than you are; I can assure you of his innocence; for

I am that very Fetnah, you so much complain of; who, through some

fatality in my stars, have occasioned you so many misfortunes. To

me you must impute the loss of your son, if he is no more; but if

I have occasioned your misfortune, I can in some measure relieve

it. I have already justified Ganem to the caliph; who has caused

it to be proclaimed throughout his dominions, that he pardons the

son of Abou Ayoub; and doubt not he will do you as much good as

he has done you injury. You are no longer his enemies. He waits

for Ganem, to requite the service he has done me, by uniting our

fortunes; he gives me to him for his consort, therefore look on

me as your daughter, and permit me to vow eternal duty and

affection." "Having so said, she bowed down on Ganem's mother,

who was so astonished that she could return no answer. Fetnah

held her long in her arms, and only left her to embrace the

daughter, who, sitting up, held out her arms to receive her.

When the caliph's favourite had strewn the mother and daughter

all tokens of affection, as Ganem's wife, she said to them, "The

wealth Ganem had in this city is not lost, it is in my apartment

in the palace; but I know all the treasure of the world cannot

comfort you without Ganem, if I may judge of you by myself. Blood

is no less powerful than love in great minds; but why should we

despair of seeing him again? We shall find him; the happiness of

meeting with you makes me conceive fresh hopes. Perhaps this is

the last day of your sufferings, and the beginning of a greater

felicity than you enjoyed in Damascus, when Ganem was with you."

Fetnah would have proceeded, but the syndic of the jewellers

coming in interrupted her: "Madam," said he to her, "I come from

seeing a very moving object, it is a young man, whom a camel-

driver had just carried to an hospital: he was bound with cords

on a camel, because he had not strength enough to sit. They had

already unbound him, and were carrying him into the hospital,

when I happened to pass by. I went up to the young man, viewed

him attentively, and fancied his countenance was not altogether

unknown to me. I asked him some questions concerning his family

and his country; but all the answers I could get were sighs and

tears. I took pity on him, and being so much used to sick people,

perceived that he had need to have particular care taken of him.

I would not permit him to be put into the hospital; for I am too

well acquainted with their way of managing the sick, and am

sensible of the incapacity of the physicians. I have caused him

to be brought to my own house, by my slaves; and they are now in

a private room where I placed him, putting on some of my own

linen, and treating him as they would do myself."

Fetnah's heart beat at these words of the jeweller, and she felt

a sudden emotion, for which she could not account: "Shew me,"

said she to the syndic, "into the sick man's room; I should be

glad to see him." The syndic conducted her, and whilst she was

going thither, Ganem's mother said to Jalib al Koolloob, "Alas!

daughter, wretched as that sick stranger is, your brother, if he

be living, is not perhaps in a more happy condition."

The caliph's favourite coming into the chamber of the sick

stranger, drew near the bed, in which the syndic's slaves had

already laid him. She saw a young man, whose eyes were closed,

his countenance pale, disfigured, and bathed in tears. She gazed

earnestly on him, her heart beat, and she fancied she beheld

Ganem; but yet she would not believe her eyes. Though she found

something of Ganem in the objets she beheld, yet in other

respects he appeared so different, that she durst not imagine it

was he that lay before her. Unable, however, to withstand the

earnest desire of being satisfied, "Ganem," said she, with a

trembling voice, "is it you I behold?" Having spoken these words,

she stopped to give the young man time to answer, but observing

that he seemed insensible; "Alas! Ganem," added she, "it is not

you that I address! My imagination being overcharged with your

image, has given to a stranger a deceitful resemblance. The son

of Abou Ayoub, however indisposed, would know the voice of

Fetnah." At the name of Fetnah, Ganem (for it was really he)

opened his eyes, sprang up, and knowing the caliph's favourite;

"Ah! madam," said he, "by what miracle" He could say no more;

such a sudden transport of joy seized him that he fainted away.

Fetnah and the syndic did all they could to bring him to himself;

but as soon as they perceived he began to revive, the syndic

desired the lady to withdraw, lest the sight of her should

heighten his disorder.

The young man having recovered, looked all around, and not seeing

what he sought, exclaimed, "What is become of you, charming

Fetnah? Did you really appear before my eyes, or was it only an

illusion?" "No, sir," said the syndic, "it was no illusion. It

was I that caused the lady to withdraw, but you shall see her

again, as soon as you are in a condition to bear the interview.

You now stand in need of rest, and nothing ought to obstruct your

taking it. The situation of your affairs is altered, since you

are, as I suppose, that Ganem, in favour of whom the commander of

the true believers has caused a proclamation to be made in

Bagdad, declaring, that he forgives him what is passed. Be

satisfied, for the present, with knowing so much; the lady, who

just now spoke to you, will acquaint you with the rest, therefore

think of nothing but recovering your health; I will contribute

all in my power towards it." Having spoke these words, he left

Ganem to take his rest, and went himself to provide for him such

medicines as were proper to recover his strength, exhausted by

hard living and toil.

During this time Fetnah was in the room with Jalib al Koolloob

and her mother, where almost the same scene was acted over again;

for when Ganem's mother understood that the sick stranger whom

the syndic had brought into his house was Ganem himself, she was

so overjoyed, that she also swooned away, and when, with the

assistance of Fetnah and the syndic's wife, she was again come to

herself, she would have arisen to go and see her son; but the

syndic coming in, hindered her, representing that Ganem was so

weak and emaciated, that it would endanger his life to excite in

him those emotions, which must be the consequence of the

unexpected sight of a beloved mother and sister. There was no

occasion for the syndic's saying any more to Ganem's mother; as

soon as she was told that she could not converse with her son,

without hazarding his life, she ceased insisting to go and see

him. Fetnah then said, "Let us bless Heaven for having brought us

all together. I will return to the palace to give the caliph an

account of these adventures, and tomorrow morning I will return

to you." This said, she embraced the mother and the daughter, and

went away. As soon as she came to the palace, she sent Mesrour to

request a private audience of the caliph, which was immediately

granted; and being brought into the prince's closet, where he was

alone, she prostrated herself at his feet, with her face on the

ground, according to custom. He commanded her to rise, and having

made her sit down, asked whether she had heard any news of Ganem?

"Commander of the true believers," said she, "I have been so

successful, that I have found him, and also his mother and

sister." The caliph was curious to know how she had discovered

them in so short a time, and she satisfied his inquiries, saying

so many things in commendation of Ganem's mother and sister, he

desired to see them as well as the young merchant.

Though Haroon al Rusheed was passionate, and in his heat

sometimes guilty of cruel actions; yet he was just, and the most

generous prince in the world, when the storm of anger was over,

and he was made sensible of the wrong he had done. Having

therefore no longer cause to doubt but that he had unjustly

persecuted Ganem and his family, and had publicly wronged them,

he resolved to make them public satisfaction. "I am overjoyed,"

said he to Fetnah, "that your search has proved so successful; it

is a real satisfaction to me, not so much for your sake as for my

own. I will keep the promise I have made you. You shall marry

Ganem, and I here declare you are no longer my slave; you are

free. Go back to that young merchant, and as soon as he has

recovered his health, you shall bring him to me with his mother

and sister."

The next morning early Fetnah repaired to the syndic of the

jewellers, being impatient to hear of Ganem's health, and tell

the mother and daughter the good news she had for them. The first

person she met was the syndic, who told her that Ganem had rested

well that night; and that his disorder proceeding altogether from

melancholy, the cause being removed, he would soon recover his

health.

Accordingly the son of Abou Ayoub was speedily much amended.

Rest, and the good medicines he had taken, but above all the

different situation of his mind, had wrought so good an effect,

that the syndic thought he might without danger see his mother,

his sister, and his mistress, provided he was prepared to receive

them; because there was ground to fear, that, not knowing his

mother and sister were at Bagdad, the sight of them might

occasion too great surprise and joy. It was therefore resolved,

that Fetnah should first go alone into Ganem's chamber, and then

make a sign to the two other ladies to appear, when she thought

it was proper.

Matters being so ordered, the syndic announced Fetnah's coming to

the sick man, who was so transported to see her, that he was

again near fainting away, "Well, Ganem," said she, drawing near

to his bed, "you have again found your Fetnah, whom you thought

you had lost for ever." "Ah! madam," exclaimed he, eagerly

interrupting her, "what miracle has restored you to my sight? I

thought you were in the caliph's palace; he has doubtless

listened to you. You have dispelled his jealousy, and he has

restored you to his favour."

"Yes, my dear Ganem," answered Fetnah, "I have cleared myself

before the commander of the true believers, who, to make amends

for the wrong he has done you, bestows me on you for a wife."

These last words occasioned such an excess of joy in Ganem, that

he knew not for a while how to express himself, otherwise than by

that passionate silence so well known to lovers. At length he

broke out in these words: "Beautiful Fetnah, may I give credit to

what you tell me? May I believe that the caliph really resigns

you to Abou Ayoub's son?" "Nothing is more certain," answered the

lady. "The caliph, who before caused search to be made for you,

to take away your life, and who in his fury caused your mother

and your sister to suffer a thousand indignities, desires now to

see you, that he may reward the respect you had for him; and

there is no question but that he will load your family with

favours."

Ganem asked, what the caliph had done to his mother and sister,

which Fetnah told him; and he could not forbear letting fall some

tears at the relation, notwithstanding the thoughts which arose

in his mind at the prospect of being married to his mistress. But

when Fetnah informed him, that they were actually in Bagdad, and

in the same house with him, he appeared so impatient to see them,

that the favourite could no longer defer giving him the

satisfaction; and accordingly called them in. They were at the

door waiting for that moment. They entered, went up to Ganem, and

embracing him in their turns, kissed him a thousand times. What

tears were shed amidst those embraces! Ganem's face was bathed

with them, as well as his mother's and sisters; and Fetnah let

fall abundance. The syndic himself and his wife were so moved at

the spectacle, that they could not forbear weeping, nor

sufficiently admire the secret workings of Providence which had

brought together into their house four persons, whom fortune had

so cruelly persecuted.

When they had dried up their tears, Ganem drew them afresh, by

the recital of what he had suffered from the day he left Fetnah,

till the moment the syndic brought him to his house. He told

them, that having taken refuge in a small village, he there fell

sick; that some charitable peasants had taken care of him, but

finding he did not recover, a camel-driver had undertaken to

carry him to the hospital at Bagdad. Fetnah also told them all

the uneasiness of her imprisonment, how the caliph, having heard

her talk in the tower, had sent for her into his closet, and how

she had cleared herself. In conclusion, when they had related

what accidents had befallen them, Fetnah said, "Let us bless

Heaven, which has brought us all together again, and let us think

of nothing but the happiness that awaits us. As soon as Ganem has

recovered his health, he must appear before the caliph, with his

mother and sister; but I will go and make some provision for

them."

This said, she went to the palace, and soon returned with a purse

containing a thousand pieces of gold, which she delivered to the

syndic, desiring him to buy apparel for the mother and daughter.

The syndic, who was a man of a good taste, chose such as were

very handsome, and had them made up with all expedition. They

were finished in three days, and Ganem finding himself strong

enough, prepared to go abroad; but on the day he had appointed to

pay his respects to the caliph, while he was making ready, with

his mother and sister, the grand vizier, Jaaffier came to the

syndic's house.

He had come on horseback, attended by a great number of officers.

"Sir," said he to Ganem, as soon as he entered, "I am come from

the commander of the true believers, my master and yours; the

orders I have differ much from those which I do not wish to

revive in your memory; I am to bear you company, and to present

you to the caliph, who is desirous to see you." Ganem returned no

other answer to the vizier's compliment, than by profoundly

bowing his head, and then mounted a horse brought from the

caliph's stables, which he managed very gracefully. The mother

and daughter were mounted on mules belonging to the palace, and

whilst Fetnah on another mule led them by a bye-way to the

prince's court, Jaaffier conducted Ganem, and brought him into

the hall of audience. The caliph was sitting on his throne,

encompassed with emirs, viziers, and. other attendants and

courtiers, Arabs, Persians, Egyptians, Africans, and Syrians, of

his own dominions, not to mention strangers.

When the vizier had conducted Ganem to the foot of the throne,

the young merchant paid his obeisance, prostrating himself with

his face to the ground, and then rising, made a handsome

compliment in verse, which, though the effusion of the moment,

met with the approbation of the whole court. After his

compliment, the caliph caused him to approach, and said, "I am

glad to see you, and desire to hear from your own mouth where you

found my favourite, and all that you have done for her." Ganem

obeyed, and appeared so sincere, that the caliph was convinced of

his veracity. He ordered a very rich vest to be given him,

according to the custom observed towards those who are admitted

to audience. After which he said to him, "Ganem, I will have you

live in my court." "Commander of the true believers," answered

the young merchant, "a slave has no will but his master's, on

whom his life and fortune depend." The caliph was highly pleased

with Ganem's reply, and assigned him a considerable pension. He

then descended from his throne, and causing only Ganem and the

grand vizier, follow him, retired into his own apartment.

Not questioning but that Fetnah was in waiting, with Abou Ayoub's

widow and daughter, he caused them to be called in. They

prostrated themselves before him: he made them rise; and was so

charmed by Jalib al Koolloob's beauty, that, after viewing her

very attentively, he said, "I am so sorry for having treated your

charms so unworthily, that I owe them such a satisfaction as may

surpass the injury I have done. I take you to wife; and by that

means shall punish Zobeide, who shall become the first cause of

your good fortune, as she was of your past sufferings. This is

not all," added he, turning towards Ganem's mother; "you are

still young, I believe you will not disdain to be allied to my

grand vizier, I give you to Jaaffier, and you, Fetnah, to Ganem.

Let a cauzee and witnesses be called, and the three contracts be

drawn up and signed immediately." Ganem would have represented to

the caliph, that it would be honour enough for his sister to be

one of his favourites; but he was resolved to marry her.

Haroon thought this such an extraordinary story, that he ordered

his historiographer to commit it to writing with all its

circumstances. It was afterwards laid up in his library, and many

copies being transcribed, it became public.

End of Volume 1.