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The Adventures of Prince Camaralzaman and the Princess Badoura


Some twenty days' sail from the coast of Persia lies the isle of the
children of Khaledan.  The island is divided into several provinces,
in each of which are large flourishing towns, and the whole forms
an important kingdom.  It was governed in former days by a king
named Schahzaman, who, with good right, considered himself one of
the most peaceful, prosperous, and fortunate monarchs on the earth.
In fact, he had but one grievance, which was that none of his four
wives had given him an heir.

This distressed him so greatly that one day he confided his grief
to the grand-vizir, who, being a wise counsellor, said:  "Such matters
are indeed beyond human aid.  Allah alone can grant your desire,
and I should advise you, sire, to send large gifts to those holy men
who spend their lives in prayer, and to beg for their intercessions.
Who knows whether their petitions may not be answered!"

The king took his vizir's advice, and the result of so many prayers for
an heir to the throne was that a son was born to him the following year.

Schahzaman sent noble gifts as thank offerings to all the mosques
and religious houses, and great rejoicings were celebrated in honour
of the birth of the little prince, who was so beautiful that he
was named Camaralzaman, or "Moon of the Century."

Prince Camaralzaman was brought up with extreme care by an excellent
governor and all the cleverest teachers, and he did such credit to them
that when he was grown up, a more charming and accomplished young man
was not to be found.  Whilst he was still a youth the king, his father,
who loved him dearly, had some thoughts of abdicating in his favour.
As usual he talked over his plans with his grand-vizir, who,
though he did not approve the idea, would not state all his objections.

"Sire," he replied, "the prince is still very young for the cares
of state.  Your Majesty fears his growing idle and careless,
and doubtless you are right.  But how would it be if he were first
to marry?  This would attach him to his home, and your Majesty
might give him a share in your counsels, so that he might gradually
learn how to wear a crown, which you can give up to him whenever
you find him capable of wearing it."

The vizir's advice once more struck the king as being good,
and he sent for his son, who lost no time in obeying the summons,
and standing respectfully with downcast eyes before the king asked
for his commands.

"I have sent for you," said the king, "to say that I wish you to marry.
What do you think about it?"

The prince was so much overcome by these words that he remained
silent for some time.  At length he said:  "Sire, I beg you
to pardon me if I am unable to reply as you might wish.
I certainly did not expect such a proposal as I am still so young,
and I confess that the idea of marrying is very distasteful to me.
Possibly I may not always be in this mind, but I certainly feel
that it will require some time to induce me to take the step
which your Majesty desires."

This answer greatly distressed the king, who was sincerely grieved
by his objection to marriage.  However he would not have recourse
to extreme measures, so he said:  "I do not wish to force you;
I will give you time to reflect, but remember that such a step
is necessary, for a prince such as you who will some day be called
to rule over a great kingdom."

From this time Prince Camaralzaman was admitted to the royal council,
and the king showed him every mark of favour.

At the end of a year the king took his son aside, and said:
"Well, my son, have you changed your mind on the subject of marriage,
or do you still refuse to obey my wish?"

The prince was less surprised but no less firm than on the
former occasion, and begged his father not to press the subject,
adding that it was quite useless to urge him any longer.

This answer much distressed the king, who again confided his trouble
to his vizir.

"I have followed your advice," he said; "but Camaralzaman declines
to marry, and is more obstinate than ever."

"Sire," replied the vizir, "much is gained by patience, and your
Majesty might regret any violence.  Why not wait another year and then
inform the Prince in the midst of the assembled council that the good
of the state demands his marriage?  He cannot possibly refuse again
before so distinguished an assemblage, and in our immediate presence."

The Sultan ardently desired to see his son married at once, but he
yielded to the vizir's arguments and decided to wait.  He then visited
the prince's mother, and after telling her of his disappointment
and of the further respite he had given his son, he added:
"I know that Camaralzaman confides more in you than he does in me.
Pray speak very seriously to him on this subject, and make him realize
that he will most seriously displease me if he remains obstinate,
and that he will certainly regret the measures I shall be obliged
to take to enforce my will."

So the first time the Sultana Fatima saw her son she told him she
had heard of his refusal to marry, adding how distressed she felt
that he should have vexed his father so much.  She asked what reasons
he could have for his objections to obey.

"Madam," replied the prince, "I make no doubt that there are as
many good, virtuous, sweet, and amiable women as there are others
very much the reverse.  Would that all were like you!  But what revolts
me is the idea of marrying a woman without knowing anything at all
about her.  My father will ask the hand of the daughter of some
neighbouring sovereign, who will give his consent to our union.
Be she fair or frightful, clever or stupid, good or bad, I must
marry her, and am left no choice in the matter.  How am I to know
that she will not be proud, passionate, contemptuous, and recklessly
extravagant, or that her disposition will in any way suit mine?"

"But, my son," urged Fatima, "you surely do not wish to be the last
of a race which has reigned so long and so gloriously over this kingdom?"

"Madam," said the prince, "I have no wish to survive the king,
my father, but should I do so I will try to reign in such a manner
as may be considered worthy of my predecessors."

These and similar conversations proved to the Sultan how useless it
was to argue with his son, and the year elapsed without bringing
any change in the prince's ideas.

At length a day came when the Sultan summoned him before the council,
and there informed him that not only his own wishes but the good
of the empire demanded his marriage, and desired him to give his
answer before the assembled ministers.

At this Camaralzaman grew so angry and spoke with so much heat
that the king, naturally irritated at being opposed by his son
in full council, ordered the prince to be arrested and locked up
in an old tower, where he had nothing but a very little furniture,
a few books, and a single slave to wait on him.

Camaralzaman, pleased to be free to enjoy his books, showed himself
very indifferent to his sentence.

When night came he washed himself, performed his devotions,
and, having read some pages of the Koran, lay down on a couch,
without putting out the light near him, and was soon asleep.

Now there was a deep well in the tower in which Prince
Camaralzaman was imprisoned, and this well was a favourite
resort of the fairy Maimoune, daughter of Damriat, chief of a
legion of genii.  Towards midnight Maimoune floated lightly
up from the well, intending, according to her usual habit,
to roam about the upper world as curiosity or accident might prompt.

The light in the prince's room surprised her, and without disturbing
the slave, who slept across the threshold, she entered the room,
and approaching the bed was still more astonished to find it occupied.

The prince lay with his face half hidden by the coverlet.
Maimoune lifted it a little and beheld the most beautiful youth
she had ever seen.

"What a marvel of beauty he must be when his eyes are open!"
she thought.  "What can he have done to deserve to be treated
like this?"

She could not weary gazing at Camaralzaman, but at length,
having softly kissed his brow and each cheek, she replaced
the coverlet and resumed her flight through the air.

As she entered the middle region she heard the sound of great wings
coming towards her, and shortly met one of the race of bad genii.
This genie, whose name was Danhasch, recognised Maimoune with terror,
for he knew the supremacy which her goodness gave her over him.
He would gladly have avoided her altogether, but they were so near
that he must either be prepared to fight or yield to her, so he at once
addressed her in a conciliatory tone:

"Good Maimoune, swear to me by Allah to do me no harm, and on my
side I will promise not to injure you."

"Accursed genie!" replied Maimoune, "what harm can you do me?
But I will grant your power and give the promise you ask.  And now
tell me what you have seen and done to-night."

"Fair lady," said Danhasch, "you meet me at the right moment to hear
something really interesting.  I must tell you that I come from the
furthest end of China, which is one of the largest and most powerful
kingdoms in the world.  The present king has one only daughter, who is
so perfectly lovely that neither you, nor I, nor any other creature
could find adequate terms in which to describe her marvellous charms.
You must therefore picture to yourself the most perfect features,
joined to a brilliant and delicate complexion, and an enchanting
expression, and even then imagination will fall short of the reality."

"The king, her father, has carefully shielded this treasure from
the vulgar gaze, and has taken every precaution to keep her from
the sight of everyone except the happy mortal he may choose to be
her husband.  But in order to give her variety in her confinement he
has built her seven palaces such as have never been seen before.
The first palace is entirely composed of rock crystal, the second
of bronze, the third of fine steel, the fourth of another and more
precious species of bronze, the fifth of touchstone, the sixth
of silver, and the seventh of solid gold.  They are all most
sumptuously furnished, whilst the gardens surrounding them are
laid out with exquisite taste.  In fact, neither trouble nor cost
has been spared to make this retreat agreeable to the princess.
The report of her wonderful beauty has spread far and wide, and many
powerful kings have sent embassies to ask her hand in marriage.
The king has always received these embassies graciously, but says
that he will never oblige the princess to marry against her will,
and as she regularly declines each fresh proposal, the envoys have
had to leave as disappointed in the result of their missions as they
were gratified by their magnificent receptions.

"Sire," said the princess to her father, "you wish me to marry,
and I know you desire to please me, for which I am very grateful.
But, indeed, I have no inclination to change my state,
for where could I find so happy a life amidst so many beautiful
and delightful surroundings?  I feel that I could never be as happy
with any husband as I am here, and I beg you not to press one on me."

"At last an embassy came from a king so rich and powerful that the
King of China felt constrained to urge this suit on his daughter.
He told her how important such an alliance would be, and pressed
her to consent.  In fact, he pressed her so persistingly that the
princess at length lost her temper and quite forgot the respect due
to her father.  "Sire," cried she angrily, "do not speak further
of this or any other marriage or I will plunge this dagger in my
breast and so escape from all these importunities."

"The king of China was extremely indignant with his daughter and replied:
"You have lost your senses and you must be treated accordingly."
So he had her shut in one set of rooms in one of her palaces,
and only allowed her ten old women, of whom her nurse was the head,
to wait on her and keep her company.  He next sent letters to all
the kings who had sued for the princess's hand, begging they would
think of her no longer, as she was quite insane, and he desired
his various envoys to make it known that anyone who could cure her
should have her to wife.

"Fair Maimoune," continued Danhasch, "this is the present state
of affairs.  I never pass a day without going to gaze on this
incomparable beauty, and I am sure that if you would only
accompany me you would think the sight well worth the trouble,
and own that you never saw such loveliness before."

The fairy only answered with a peal of laughter, and when at length
she had control of her voice she cried, "Oh, come, you are making
game of me!  I thought you had something really interesting to tell
me instead of raving about some unknown damsel.  What would you say
if you could see the prince I have just been looking at and whose
beauty is really transcendent?  That is something worth talking about,
you would certainly quite lose your head."

"Charming Maimoune," asked Danhasch, "may I inquire who and what
is the prince of whom you speak?"

"Know," replied Maimoune, "that he is in much the same case as
your princess.  The king, his father, wanted to force him to marry,
and on the prince's refusal to obey he has been imprisoned in an old
tower where I have just seen him."

"I don't like to contradict a lady," said Danhasch, "but you must
really permit me to doubt any mortal being as beautiful as my princess."

"Hold your tongue," cried Maimoune.  "I repeat that is impossible."

"Well, I don't wish to seem obstinate," replied Danhasch, "the best
plan to test the truth of what I say will be for you to let me
take you to see the princess for yourself."

"There is no need for that," retorted Maimoune; "we can satisfy
ourselves in another way.  Bring your princess here and lay
her down beside my prince.  We can then compare them at leisure,
and decide which is in the right."

Danhasch readily consented, and after having the tower where the prince
was confined pointed out to him, and making a wager with Maimoune as to
the result of the comparison, he flew off to China to fetch the princess.

In an incredibly short time Danhasch returned, bearing the
sleeping princess.  Maimoune led him to the prince's room,
and the rival beauty was placed beside him.

When the prince and princess lay thus side by side, an animated
dispute as to their respective charms arose between the fairy
and the genius.  Danhasch began by saying:

"Now you see that my princess is more beautiful than your prince.
Can you doubt any longer?"

"Doubt!  Of course I do!" exclaimed Maimoune.  "Why, you must
be blind not to see how much my prince excels your princess.
I do not deny that your princess is very handsome, but only look
and you must own that I am in the right."

"There is no need for me to look longer," said Danhasch, "my first
impression will remain the same; but of course, charming Maimoune,
I am ready to yield to you if you insist on it."

"By no means," replied Maimoune.  "I have no idea of being under
any obligation to an accursed genius like you.  I refer the matter
to an umpire, and shall expect you to submit to his verdict."

Danhasch readily agreed, and on Maimoune striking the floor with her
foot it opened, and a hideous, hump-backed, lame, squinting genius,
with six horns on his head, hands like claws, emerged.  As soon as he
beheld Maimoune he threw himself at her feet and asked her commands.

"Rise, Caschcasch," said she.  "I summoned you to judge between me
and Danhasch.  Glance at that couch, and say without any partiality
whether you think the youth or the maiden lying there the more beautiful."

Caschcasch looked at the prince and princess with every token
of surprise and admiration.  At length, having gazed long without
being able to come to a decision, he said

"Madam, I must confess that I should deceive you were I to declare
one to be handsomer than the other.  There seems to me only one
way in which to decide the matter, and that is to wake one after
the other and judge which of them expresses the greater admiration
for the other."

This advice pleased Maimoune and Danhasch, and the fairy at once
transformed herself into the shape of a gnat and settling on
Camaralzaman's throat stung him so sharply that he awoke.  As he did
so his eyes fell on the Princess of China.  Surprised at finding
a lady so near him, he raised himself on one arm to look at her.
The youth and beauty of the princess at once awoke a feeling to which his
heart had as yet been a stranger, and he could not restrain his delight.

"What loveliness!  What charms!  Oh, my heart, my soul!" he exclaimed,
as he kissed her forehead, her eyes and mouth in a way which would
certainly have roused her had not the genie's enchantments kept
her asleep.

"How, fair lady!" he cried, "you do not wake at the signs of
Camaralzaman's love?  Be you who you may, he is not unworthy of you."

It then suddenly occurred to him, that perhaps this was the bride
his father had destined for him, and that the King had probably
had her placed in this room in order to see how far Camaralzaman's
aversion to marriage would withstand her charms.

"At all events," he thought, "I will take this ring as a remembrance
of her."

So saying he drew off a fine ring which the princess wore on
her finger, and replaced it by one of his own.  After which he
lay down again and was soon fast asleep.

Then Danhasch, in his turn, took the form of a gnat and bit
the princess on her lip.

She started up, and was not a little amazed at seeing a young man
beside her.  From surprise she soon passed to admiration, and then
to delight on perceiving how handsome and fascinating he was.

"Why," cried she, "was it you my father wished me to marry?
How unlucky that I did not know sooner!  I should not have made
him so angry.  But wake up! wake up! for I know I shall love you
with all my heart."

So saying she shook Camaralzaman so violently that nothing
but the spells of Maimoune could have prevented his waking.

"Oh!" cried the princess.  "Why are you so drowsy?"  So saying she
took his hand and noticed her own ring on his finger, which made her
wonder still more.  But as he still remained in a profound slumber
she pressed a kiss on his cheek and soon fell fast asleep too.

Then Maimoune turning to the genie said:  "Well, are you satisfied
that my prince surpasses your princess?  Another time pray believe
me when I assert anything."

Then turning to Caschcasch:  "My thanks to you, and now do you
and Danhasch bear the princess back to her own home."

The two genii hastened to obey, and Maimoune returned to her well.

On waking next morning the first thing Prince Camaralzaman did
was to look round for the lovely lady he had seen at night,
and the next to question the slave who waited on him about her.
But the slave persisted so strongly that he knew nothing of any lady,
and still less of how she got into the tower, that the prince lost
all patience, and after giving him a good beating tied a rope round him
and ducked him in the well till the unfortunate man cried out that he
would tell everything.  Then the prince drew him up all dripping wet,
but the slave begged leave to change his clothes first, and as soon
as the prince consented hurried off just as he was to the palace.
Here he found the king talking to the grand-vizir of all the anxiety
his son had caused him.  The slave was admitted at once and cried:

"Alas, Sire!  I bring sad news to your Majesty.  There can be no
doubt that the prince has completely lost his senses.  He declares
that he saw a lady sleeping on his couch last night, and the state
you see me in proves how violent contradiction makes him."
He then gave a minute account of all the prince had said and done.

The king, much moved, begged the vizir to examine into this
new misfortune, and the latter at once went to the tower, where he
found the prince quietly reading a book.  After the first exchange
of greetings the vizir said:

"I feel really very angry with your slave for alarming his Majesty
by the news he brought him."

"What news?" asked the prince.

"Ah!" replied the vizir, "something absurd, I feel sure, seeing how
I find you."

"Most likely," said the prince; "but now that you are here I am
glad of the opportunity to ask you where is the lady who slept
in this room last night?"

The grand-vizir felt beside himself at this question.

"Prince!" he exclaimed, "how would it be possible for any man,
much less a woman, to enter this room at night without walking over
your slave on the threshold?  Pray consider the matter, and you
will realise that you have been deeply impressed by some dream."

But the prince angrily insisted on knowing who and where the lady was,
and was not to be persuaded by all the vizir's protestations to the
contrary that the plot had not been one of his making.  At last,
losing patience, he seized the vizir by the beard and loaded him
with blows.

"Stop, Prince," cried the unhappy vizir, "stay and hear what I
have to say."

The prince, whose arm was getting tired, paused.

"I confess, Prince," said the vizir, "that there is some foundation
for what you say.  But you know well that a minister has to carry
out his master's orders.  Allow me to go and to take to the king
any message you may choose to send."

"Very well," said the prince; "then go and tell him that I consent
to marry the lady whom he sent or brought here last night.
Be quick and bring me back his answer."

The vizir bowed to the ground and hastened to leave the room and tower.

"Well," asked the king as soon as he appeared, "and how did you
find my son?"

"Alas, sire," was the reply, "the slave's report is only too true!"

He then gave an exact account of his interview with Camaralzaman
and of the prince's fury when told that it was not possible for any
lady to have entered his room, and of the treatment he himself
had received.  The king, much distressed, determined to clear
up the matter himself, and, ordering the vizir to follow him,
set out to visit his son.

The prince received his father with profound respect, and the king,
making him sit beside him, asked him several questions, to which
Camaralzaman replied with much good sense.  At last the king said:
"My son, pray tell me about the lady who, it is said, was in your room
last night."

"Sire," replied the prince, "pray do not increase my distress
in this matter, but rather make me happy by giving her to me
in marriage.  However much I may have objected to matrimony formerly,
the sight of this lovely girl has overcome all my prejudices,
and I will gratefully receive her from your hands."

The king was almost speechless on hearing his son, but after a time
assured him most solemnly that he knew nothing whatever about
the lady in question, and had not connived at her appearance.
He then desired the prince to relate the whole story to him.

Camaralzaman did so at great length, showed the ring, and implored
his father to help to find the bride he so ardently desired.

"After all you tell me," remarked the king, "I can no longer doubt
your word; but how and whence the lady came, or why she should
have stayed so short a time I cannot imagine.  The whole affair
is indeed mysterious.  Come, my dear son, let us wait together
for happier days."

So saying the king took Camaralzaman by the hand and led him back
to the palace, where the prince took to his bed and gave himself up
to despair, and the king shutting himself up with his son entirely
neglected the affairs of state.

The prime minister, who was the only person admitted, felt it his
duty at last to tell the king how much the court and all the people
complained of his seclusion, and how bad it was for the nation.
He urged the sultan to remove with the prince to a lovely little
island close by, whence he could easily attend public audiences,
and where the charming scenery and fine air would do the invalid so
much good as to enable him to bear his father's occasional absence.

The king approved the plan, and as soon as the castle on the island
could be prepared for their reception he and the prince arrived there,
Schahzaman never leaving his son except for the prescribed public
audiences twice a week.

Whilst all this was happening in the capital of Schahzaman the two
genii had carefully borne the Princess of China back to her own
palace and replaced her in bed.  On waking next morning she first
turned from one side to another and then, finding herself alone,
called loudly for her women.

"Tell me," she cried, "where is the young man I love so dearly,
and who slept near me last night?"

"Princess," exclaimed the nurse, "we cannot tell what you allude
to without more explanation."

"Why," continued the princess, "the most charming and beautiful young
man lay sleeping beside me last night.  I did my utmost to wake him,
but in vain."

"Your Royal Highness wishes to make game of us," said the nurse.
"Is it your pleasure to rise?"

"I am quite in earnest," persisted the princess, "and I want to know
where he is."

"But, Princess," expostulated the nurse, "we left you quite alone
last night, and we have seen no one enter your room since then."

At this the princess lost all patience, and taking the nurse by her
hair she boxed her ears soundly, crying out:  "You shall tell me,
you old witch, or I'll kill you."

The nurse had no little trouble in escaping, and hurried off to
the queen, to whom she related the whole story with tears in her eyes.

"You see, madam," she concluded, "that the princess must be out
of her mind.  If only you will come and see her, you will be able
to judge for yourself."

The queen hurried to her daughter's apartments, and after tenderly
embracing her, asked her why she had treated her nurse so badly.

"Madam," said the princess, "I perceive that your Majesty wishes
to make game of me, but I can assure you that I will never marry
anyone except the charming young man whom I saw last night.
You must know where he is, so pray send for him."

The queen was much surprised by these words, but when she
declared that she knew nothing whatever of the matter the
princess lost all respect, and answered that if she were not
allowed to marry as she wished she should kill herself, and
it was in vain that the queen tried to pacify her and bring her to reason.

The king himself came to hear the rights of the matter, but the
princess only persisted in her story, and as a proof showed the ring
on her finger.  The king hardly knew what to make of it all, but ended
by thinking that his daughter was more crazy than ever, and without
further argument he had her placed in still closer confinement,
with only her nurse to wait on her and a powerful guard to keep the door.

Then he assembled his council, and having told them the sad state
of things, added:  "If any of you can succeed in curing the princess,
I will give her to him in marriage, and he shall be my heir."

An elderly emir present, fired with the desire to possess a young
and lovely wife and to rule over a great kingdom, offered to try
the magic arts with which he was acquainted.

"You are welcome to try," said the king, "but I make one condition,
which is, that should you fail you will lose your life."

The emir accepted the condition, and the king led him to the princess,
who, veiling her face, remarked, "I am surprised, sire, that you
should bring an unknown man into my presence."

"You need not be shocked," said the king; "this is one of my emirs
who asks your hand in marriage."

"Sire," replied the princess, "this is not the one you gave me
before and whose ring I wear.  Permit me to say that I can accept
no other."

The emir, who had expected to hear the princess talk nonsense,
finding how calm and reasonable she was, assured the king that he
could not venture to undertake a cure, but placed his head at his
Majesty's disposal, on which the justly irritated monarch promptly
had it cut off.

This was the first of many suitors for the princess whose inability
to cure her cost them their lives.

Now it happened that after things had been going on in this way for
some time the nurse's son Marzavan returned from his travels.  He had
been in many countries and learnt many things, including astrology.
Needless to say that one of the first things his mother told him
was the sad condition of the princess, his foster-sister. Marzavan
asked if she could not manage to let him see the princess without
the king's knowledge.

After some consideration his mother consented, and even persuaded
the eunuch on guard to make no objection to Marzavan's entering
the royal apartment.

The princess was delighted to see her foster-brother again,
and after some conversation she confided to him all her history
and the cause of her imprisonment.

Marzavan listened with downcast eyes and the utmost attention.
When she had finished speaking he said,

"If what you tell me, Princess, is indeed the case, I do not despair
of finding comfort for you.  Take patience yet a little longer.
I will set out at once to explore other countries, and when you hear
of my return be sure that he for whom you sigh is not far off."
So saying, he took his leave and started next morning on his travels.

Marzavan journeyed from city to city and from one island and province
to another, and wherever he went he heard people talk of the strange
story of the Princess Badoura, as the Princess of China was named.

After four months he reached a large populous seaport town named Torf,
and here he heard no more of the Princess Badoura but a great deal
of Prince Camaralzaman, who was reported ill, and whose story
sounded very similar to that of the Princess Badoura.

Marzavan was rejoiced, and set out at once for Prince
Camaralzaman's residence.  The ship on which he embarked had
a prosperous voyage till she got within sight of the capital
of King Schahzaman, but when just about to enter the harbour she
suddenly struck on a rock, and foundered within sight of the
palace where the prince was living with his father and the grand-vizir.

Marzavan, who swam well, threw himself into the sea and managed
to land close to the palace, where he was kindly received,
and after having a change of clothing given him was brought before
the grand-vizir. The vizir was at once attracted by the young man's
superior air and intelligent conversation, and perceiving that he
had gained much experience in the course of his travels, he said,
"Ah, how I wish you had learnt some secret which might enable you
to cure a malady which has plunged this court into affliction
for some time past!"

Marzavan replied that if he knew what the illness was he might
possibly be able to suggest a remedy, on which the vizir related
to him the whole history of Prince Camaralzaman.

On hearing this Marzavan rejoiced inwardly, for he felt sure that he
had at last discovered the object of the Princess Badoura's infatuation.
However, he said nothing, but begged to be allowed to see the prince.

On entering the royal apartment the first thing which struck
him was the prince himself, who lay stretched out on his bed
with his eyes closed.  The king sat near him, but, without paying
any regard to his presence, Marzavan exclaimed, "Heavens! what a
striking likeness!"  And, indeed, there was a good deal of resemblance
between the features of Camaralzaman and those of the Princess of China.

These words caused the prince to open his eyes with languid curiosity,
and Marzavan seized this moment to pay him his compliments,
contriving at the same time to express the condition of the Princess
of China in terms unintelligible, indeed, to the Sultan and his vizir,
but which left the prince in no doubt that his visitor could give
him some welcome information.

The prince begged his father to allow him the favour of a private
interview with Marzavan, and the king was only too pleased to find
his son taking an interest in anyone or anything.  As soon as they
were left alone Marzavan told the prince the story of the Princess
Badoura and her sufferings, adding, "I am convinced that you alone
can cure her; but before starting on so long a journey you must
be well and strong, so do your best to recover as quickly as may be."

These words produced a great effect on the prince, who was so much
cheered by the hopes held out that he declared he felt able
to get up and be dressed.  The king was overjoyed at the result
of Marzavan's interview, and ordered public rejoicings in honour
of the prince's recovery.

Before long the prince was quite restored to his original state
of health, and as soon as he felt himself really strong he took
Marzavan aside and said:

"Now is the time to perform your promise.  I am so impatient to see
my beloved princess once more that I am sure I shall fall ill
again if we do not start soon.  The one obstacle is my father's
tender care of me, for, as you may have noticed, he cannot bear
me out of his sight."

"Prince," replied Marzavan, "I have already thought over the matter,
and this is what seems to me the best plan.  You have not been
out of doors since my arrival.  Ask the king's permission to go
with me for two or three days' hunting, and when he has given
leave order two good horses to be held ready for each of us.
Leave all the rest to me."

Next day the prince seized a favourable opportunity for making
his request, and the king gladly granted it on condition that
only one night should be spent out for fear of too great fatigue
after such a long illness.

Next morning Prince Camaralzaman and Marzavan were off betimes,
attended by two grooms leading the two extra horses.  They hunted
a little by the way, but took care to get as far from the towns
as possible.  At night-fall they reached an inn, where they supped
and slept till midnight.  Then Marzavan awoke and roused the prince
without disturbing anyone else.  He begged the prince to give him
the coat he had been wearing and to put on another which they had
brought with them.  They mounted their second horses, and Marzavan
led one of the grooms' horses by the bridle.

By daybreak our travellers found themselves where four cross roads
met in the middle of the forest.  Here Marzavan begged the prince
to wait for him, and leading the groom's horse into a dense part
of the wood he cut its throat, dipped the prince's coat in its blood,
and having rejoined the prince threw the coat on the ground where
the roads parted.

In answer to Camaralzaman's inquiries as to the reason for this,
Marzavan replied that the only chance they had of continuing their journey
was to divert attention by creating the idea of the prince's death.
"Your father will doubtless be plunged in the deepest grief,"
he went on, "but his joy at your return will be all the greater."

The prince and his companion now continued their journey by land
and sea, and as they had brought plenty of money to defray their
expenses they met with no needless delays.  At length they reached
the capital of China, where they spent three days in a suitable
lodging to recover from their fatigues.

During this time Marzavan had an astrologer's dress
prepared for the prince.  They then went to the baths,
after which the prince put on the astrologer's robe and was
conducted within sight of the king's palace by Marzavan,
who left him there and went to consult his mother, the princess's nurse.

Meantime the prince, according to Marzavan's instructions,
advanced close to the palace gates and there proclaimed aloud:

"I am an astrologer and I come to restore health to
the Princess Badoura, daughter of the high and mighty
King of China, on the conditions laid down by His
Majesty of marrying her should I succeed, or of losing my life if I fail."

It was some little time since anyone had presented himself to run
the terrible risk involved in attempting to cure the princess,
and a crowd soon gathered round the prince.  On perceiving his youth,
good looks, and distinguished bearing, everyone felt pity for him.

"What are you thinking of, sir," exclaimed some; "why expose yourself
to certain death?  Are not the heads you see exposed on the town
wall sufficient warning?  For mercy's sake give up this mad idea
and retire whilst you can."

But the prince remained firm, and only repeated his cry with
greater assurance, to the horror of the crowd.

"He is resolved to die!" they cried; "may heaven have pity on him!"

Camaralzaman now called out for the third time, and at last
the grand-vizir himself came out and fetched him in.

The prime minister led the prince to the king, who was much struck
by the noble air of this new adventurer, and felt such pity for
the fate so evidently in store for him, that he tried to persuade
the young man to renounce his project.

But Camaralzaman politely yet firmly persisted in his intentions,
and at length the king desired the eunuch who had the guard of the
princess's apartments to conduct the astrologer to her presence.

The eunuch led the way through long passages, and Camaralzaman
followed rapidly, in haste to reach the object of his desires.
At last they came to a large hall which was the ante-room to the
princess's chamber, and here Camaralzaman said to the eunuch:

"Now you shall choose.  Shall I cure the princess in her own presence,
or shall I do it from here without seeing her?"

The eunuch, who had expressed many contemptuous doubts as they came
along of the newcomer's powers, was much surprised and said:

"If you really can cure, it is immaterial when you do it.
Your fame will be equally great."

"Very well," replied the prince:  "then, impatient though I am
to see the princess, I will effect the cure where I stand,
the better to convince you of my power."  He accordingly drew
out his writing case and wrote as follows--"Adorable princess!
The enamoured Camaralzaman has never forgotten the moment when,
contemplating your sleeping beauty, he gave you his heart.
As he was at that time deprived of the happiness of conversing
with you, he ventured to give you his ring as a token of his love,
and to take yours in exchange, which he now encloses in this letter.
Should you deign to return it to him he will be the happiest
of mortals, if not he will cheerfully resign himself to death,
seeing he does so for love of you.  He awaits your reply in your
ante-room."

Having finished this note the prince carefully enclosed the ring in it
without letting the eunuch see it, and gave him the letter, saying:

"Take this to your mistress, my friend, and if on reading it
and seeing its contents she is not instantly cured, you may call
me an impudent impostor."

The eunuch at once passed into the princess's room, and handing
her the letter said:

"Madam, a new astrologer has arrived, who declares that you will be
cured as soon as you have read this letter and seen what it contains."

The princess took the note and opened it with languid indifference.
But no sooner did she see her ring than, barely glancing at the writing,
she rose hastily and with one bound reached the doorway and pushed
back the hangings.  Here she and the prince recognised each other,
and in a moment they were locked in each other's arms, where they
tenderly embraced, wondering how they came to meet at last after
so long a separation.  The nurse, who had hastened after her charge,
drew them back to the inner room, where the princess restored her ring
to Camaralzaman.

"Take it back," she said, "I could not keep it without returning
yours to you, and I am resolved to wear that as long as I live."

Meantime the eunuch had hastened back to the king.  "Sire," he cried,
"all the former doctors and astrologers were mere quacks.
This man has cured the princess without even seeing her."
He then told all to the king, who, overjoyed, hastened to his
daughter's apartments, where, after embracing her, he placed
her hand in that of the prince, saying:

"Happy stranger, I keep my promise, and give you my daughter to wife,
be you who you may.  But, if I am not much mistaken, your condition
is above what you appear to be."

The prince thanked the king in the warmest and most respectful terms,
and added:  "As regards my person, your Majesty has rightly guessed
that I am not an astrologer.  It is but a disguise which I assumed
in order to merit your illustrious alliance.  I am myself a prince,
my name is Camaralzaman, and my father is Schahzaman, King of the
Isles of the Children of Khaledan."  He then told his whole history,
including the extraordinary manner of his first seeing and loving
the Princess Badoura.

When he had finished the king exclaimed:  "So remarkable a story must
not be lost to posterity.  It shall be inscribed in the archives
of my kingdom and published everywhere abroad."

The wedding took place next day amidst great pomp and rejoicings.
Marzavan was not forgotten, but was given a lucrative post at court,
with a promise of further advancement.

The prince and princess were now entirely happy, and months slipped
by unconsciously in the enjoyment of each other's society.

One night, however, Prince Camaralzaman dreamt that he saw his
father lying at the point of death, and saying:  "Alas! my son whom
I loved so tenderly, has deserted me and is now causing my death."

The prince woke with such a groan as to startle the princess,
who asked what was the matter.

"Ah!" cried the prince, "at this very moment my father is perhaps
no more!" and he told his dream.

The princess said but little at the time, but next morning she went
to the king, and kissing his hand said:

"I have a favour to ask of your Majesty, and I beg you to believe
that it is in no way prompted by my husband.  It is that you will
allow us both to visit my father-in-law King Schahzaman."

Sorry though the king felt at the idea of parting with his daughter,
he felt her request to be so reasonable that he could not refuse it,
and made but one condition, which was that she should only spend
one year at the court of King Schahzaman, suggesting that in future
the young couple should visit their respective parents alternately.

The princess brought this good news to her husband, who thanked
her tenderly for this fresh proof of her affection.

All preparations for the journey were now pressed forwards, and when
all was ready the king accompanied the travellers for some days,
after which he took an affectionate leave of his daughter, and charging
the prince to take every care of her, returned to his capital.

The prince and princess journeyed on, and at the end of a month
reached a huge meadow interspersed with clumps of big trees which cast
a most pleasant shade.  As the heat was great, Camaralzaman thought it
well to encamp in this cool spot.  Accordingly the tents were pitched,
and the princess entering hers whilst the prince was giving his
further orders, removed her girdle, which she placed beside her,
and desiring her women to leave her, lay down and was soon asleep.

When the camp was all in order the prince entered the tent and,
seeing the princess asleep, he sat down near her without speaking.
His eyes fell on the girdle which, he took up, and whilst inspecting
the precious stones set in it he noticed a little pouch sewn
to the girdle and fastened by a loop.  He touched it and felt
something hard within.  Curious as to what this might be, he opened
the pouch and found a cornelian engraved with various figures
and strange characters.

"This cornelian must be something very precious," thought he,
"or my wife would not wear it on her person with so much care."

In truth it was a talisman which the Queen of China had given
her daughter, telling her it would ensure her happiness as long
as she carried it about her.

The better to examine the stone the prince stepped to the open
doorway of the tent.  As he stood there holding it in the open
palm of his hand, a bird suddenly swooped down, picked the stone
up in its beak and flew away with it.

Imagine the prince's dismay at losing a thing by which his wife
evidently set such store!

The bird having secured its prey flew off some yards and
alighted on the ground, holding the talisman it its beak.
Prince Camaralzaman advanced, hoping the bird would drop it, but as
soon as he approached the thief fluttered on a little further still.
He continued his pursuit till the bird suddenly swallowed the stone
and took a longer flight than before.  The prince then hoped to kill
it with a stone, but the more hotly he pursued the further flew the bird.

In this fashion he was led on by hill and dale through the entire day,
and when night came the tiresome creature roosted on the top
of a very high tree where it could rest in safety.

The prince in despair at all his useless trouble began to think
whether he had better return to the camp.  "But," thought he,
"how shall I find my way back?  Must I go up hill or down?
I should certainly lose my way in the dark, even if my strength
held out."  Overwhelmed by hunger, thirst, fatigue and sleep,
he ended by spending the night at the foot of the tree.

Next morning Camaralzaman woke up before the bird left its perch,
and no sooner did it take flight than he followed it again
with as little success as the previous day, only stopping to eat
some herbs and fruit he found by the way.  In this fashion he
spent ten days, following the bird all day and spending the night
at the foot of a tree, whilst it roosted on the topmost bough.
On the eleventh day the bird and the prince reached a large town,
and as soon as they were close to its walls the bird took a sudden
and higher flight and was shortly completely out of sight,
whilst Camaralzaman felt in despair at having to give up all hopes
of ever recovering the talisman of the Princess Badoura.

Much cast down, he entered the town, which was built near the sea
and had a fine harbour.  He walked about the streets for a long time,
not knowing where to go, but at length as he walked near the seashore
he found a garden door open and walked in.

The gardener, a good old man, who was at work, happened to look up,
and, seeing a stranger, whom he recognised by his dress as a Mussulman,
he told him to come in at once and to shut the door.

Camaralzaman did as he was bid, and inquired why this precaution
was taken.

"Because," said the gardener, "I see that you are a stranger and
a Mussulman, and this town is almost entirely inhabited by idolaters,
who hate and persecute all of our faith.  It seems almost a miracle
that has led you to this house, and I am indeed glad that you
have found a place of safety."

Camaralzaman warmly thanked the kind old man for offering him shelter,
and was about to say more, but the gardener interrupted him with:

"Leave compliments alone.  You are weary and must be hungry.
Come in, eat, and rest."  So saying he led the prince into his cottage,
and after satisfying his hunger begged to learn the cause of
his arrival.

Camaralzaman told him all without disguise, and ended by inquiring
the shortest way to his father's capital.  "For," added he,
"if I tried to rejoin the princess, how should I find her after
eleven days' separation.  Perhaps, indeed, she may be no longer alive!"
At this terrible thought he burst into tears.

The gardener informed Camaralzaman that they were quite a year's land
journey to any Mahomedan country, but that there was a much shorter
route by sea to the Ebony Island, from whence the Isles of the Children
of Khaledan could be easily reached, and that a ship sailed once
a year for the Ebony Island by which he might get so far as his very home.

"If only you had arrived a few days sooner," he said, "you might
have embarked at once.  As it is you must now wait till next year,
but if you care to stay with me I offer you my house, such as it is,
with all my heart."

Prince Camaralzaman thought himself lucky to find some place of refuge,
and gladly accepted the gardener's offer.  He spent his days working in
the garden, and his nights thinking of and sighing for his beloved wife.

Let us now see what had become during this time of the Princess Badoura.

On first waking she was much surprised not to find the prince
near her.  She called her women and asked if they knew where he was,
and whilst they were telling her that they had seen him enter
the tent, but had not noticed his leaving it, she took up her belt
and perceived that the little pouch was open and the talisman gone.

She at once concluded that her husband had taken it and would shortly
bring it back.  She waited for him till evening rather impatiently,
and wondering what could have kept him from her so long.  When night
came without him she felt in despair and abused the talisman
and its maker roundly.  In spite of her grief and anxiety however,
she did not lose her presence of mind, but decided on a courageous,
though very unusual step.

Only the princess and her women knew of Camaralzaman's disappearance,
for the rest of the party were sleeping or resting in their tents.
Fearing some treason should the truth be known, she ordered her
women not to say a word which would give rise to any suspicion,
and proceeded to change her dress for one of her husband's, to whom,
as has been already said, she bore a strong likeness.

In this disguise she looked so like the prince that when she gave
orders next morning to break up the camp and continue the journey no
one suspected the change.  She made one of her women enter her litter,
whilst she herself mounted on horseback and the march began.

After a protracted journey by land and sea the princess, still under
the name and disguise of Prince Camaralzaman, arrived at the capital
of the Ebony Island whose king was named Armanos.

No sooner did the king hear that the ship which was just in port
had on board the son of his old friend and ally than he hurried
to meet the supposed prince, and had him and his retinue brought
to the palace, where they were lodged and entertained sumptuously.

After three days, finding that his guest, to whom he had taken
a great fancy, talked of continuing his journey, King Armanos said
to him:

"Prince, I am now an old man, and unfortunately 1 have no son
to whom to leave my kingdom.  It has pleased Heaven to give me
only one daughter, who possesses such great beauty and charm
that I could only give her to a prince as highly born and as
accomplished as yourself.  Instead, therefore, of returning to your
own country, take my daughter and my crown and stay with us.
I shall feel that I have a worthy successor, and shall cheerfully
retire from the fatigues of government."

The king's offer was naturally rather embarrassing to the Princess
Badoura.  She felt that it was equally impossible to confess that she
had deceived him, or to refuse the marriage on which he had set his heart;
a refusal which might turn all his kindness to hatred and persecution.

All things considered, she decided to accept, and after a few moments
silence said with a blush, which the king attributed to modesty:

"Sire, I feel so great an obligation for the good opinion
your Majesty has expressed for my person and of the honour
you do me, that, though I am quite unworthy of it,
I dare not refuse.  But, sire, I can only accept such
an alliance if you give me your promise to assist me with your counsels."

The marriage being thus arranged, the ceremony was fixed for the
following day, and the princess employed the intervening time in
informing the officers of her suite of what had happened, assuring them
that the Princess Badoura had given her full consent to the marriage.
She also told her women, and bade them keep her secret well.

King Armanos, delighted with the success of his plans, lost no
time in assembling his court and council, to whom he presented
his successor, and placing his future son-in-law on the throne
made everyone do homage and take oaths of allegiance to the new king.

At night the whole town was filled with rejoicings, and with much pomp
the Princess Haiatelnefous (this was the name of the king's daughter)
was conducted to the palace of the Princess Badoura.

Now Badoura had thought much of the difficulties of her first
interview with King Armanos' daughter, and she felt the only thing
to do was at once to take her into her confidence.

Accordingly, as soon as they were alone she took Haiatelnefous
by the hand and said:

"Princess, I have a secret to tell you, and must throw myself
on your mercy.  I am not Prince Camaralzaman, but a princess
like yourself and his wife, and I beg you to listen to my story,
then I am sure you will forgive my imposture, in consideration
of my sufferings."

She then related her whole history, and at its close Haiatelnefous
embraced her warmly, and assured her of her entire sympathy
and affection.

The two princesses now planned out their future action, and agreed
to combine to keep up the deception and to let Badoura continue
to play a man's part until such time as there might be news
of the real Camaralzaman.

Whilst these things were passing in the Ebony Island Prince
Camaralzaman continued to find shelter in the gardeners cottage
in the town of the idolaters.

Early one morning the gardener said to the prince:

"To-day is a public holiday, and the people of the town not only
do not work themselves but forbid others to do so.  You had better
therefore take a good rest whilst I go to see some friends, and as
the time is near for the arrival of the ship of which I told you I
will make inquiries about it, and try to bespeak a passage for you."
He then put on his best clothes and went out, leaving the prince,
who strolled into the garden and was soon lost in thoughts of his
dear wife and their sad separation.

As he walked up and down he was suddenly disturbed in his reverie
by the noise two large birds were making in a tree.

Camaralzaman stood still and looked up, and saw that the birds were
fighting so savagely with beaks and claws that before long one fell dead
to the ground, whilst the conqueror spread his wings and flew away.
Almost immediately two other larger birds, who had been watching the duel,
flew up and alighted, one at the head and the other at the feet of
the dead bird.  They stood there some time sadly shaking their heads,
and then dug up a grave with their claws in which they buried him.

As soon as they had filled in the grave the two flew off, and ere
long returned, bringing with them the murderer, whom they held,
one by a wing and the other by a leg, with their beaks, screaming and
struggling with rage and terror.  But they held tight, and having
brought him to his victim's grave, they proceeded to kill him,
after which they tore open his body, scattered the inside and once
more flew away.

The prince, who had watched the whole scene with much interest,
now drew near the spot where it happened, and glancing at the dead
bird he noticed something red lying near which had evidently fallen
out of its inside.  He picked it up, and what was his surprise when he
recognised the Princess Badoura's talisman which had been the cause
of many misfortunes.  It would be impossible to describe his joy;
he kissed the talisman repeatedly, wrapped it up, and carefully
tied it round his arm.  For the first time since his separation
from the princess he had a good night, and next morning he was up
at day-break and went cheerfully to ask what work he should do.

The gardener told him to cut down an old fruit tree which had quite
died away, and Camaralzaman took an axe and fell to vigorously.
As he was hacking at one of the roots the axe struck on something hard.
On pushing away the earth he discovered a large slab of bronze,
under which was disclosed a staircase with ten steps.
He went down them and found himself in a roomy kind of cave
in which stood fifty large bronze jars, each with a cover on it.
The prince uncovered one after another, and found them all filled
with gold dust.  Delighted with his discovery he left the cave,
replaced the slab, and having finished cutting down the tree waited
for the gardener's return.

The gardener had heard the night before that the ship about which he
was inquiring would start ere long, but the exact date not being yet
known he had been told to return next day for further information.
He had gone therefore to inquire, and came back with good news
beaming in his face.

"My son," said he, "rejoice and hold yourself ready to start
in three days' time.  The ship is to set sail, and I have arranged
all about your passage with the captain

"You could not bring me better news," replied Camaralzaman,
"and in return I have something pleasant to tell you.  Follow me
and see the good fortune which has befallen you."

He then led the gardener to the cave, and having shown him the
treasure stored up there, said how happy it made him that Heaven
should in this way reward his kind host's many virtues and compensate
him for the privations of many years.

"What do you mean?" asked the gardener.  "Do you imagine that I should
appropriate this treasure?  It is yours, and I have no right whatever
to it.  For the last eighty years I have dug up the ground here without
discovering anything.  It is clear that these riches are intended
for you, and they are much more needed by a prince like yourself
than by an old man like me, who am near my end and require nothing.
This treasure comes just at the right time, when you are about
to return to your own country, where you will make good use of it."

But the prince would not hear of this suggestion, and finally
after much discussion they agreed to divide the gold.  When this
was done the gardener said:

"My son, the great thing now is to arrange how you can best carry
off this treasure as secretly as possible for fear of losing it.
There are no olives in the Ebony Island, and those imported from
here fetch a high price.  As you know, I have a good stock of the
olives which grew in this garden.  Now you must take fifty jars,
fill each half full of gold dust and fill them up with the olives.
We will then have them taken on board ship when you embark."

The prince took this advice, and spent the rest of the day filling
the fifty jars, and fearing lest the precious talisman might slip
from his arm and be lost again, he took the precaution of putting
it in one of the jars, on which he made a mark so as to be able
to recognise it.  When night came the jars were all ready,
and the prince and his host went to bed.

Whether in consequence of his great age, or of the fatigues and excitement
of the previous day, I do not know, but the gardener passed a very
bad night.  He was worse next day, and by the morning of the third day was
dangerously ill.  At daybreak the ship's captain and some of his sailors
knocked at the garden door and asked for the passenger who was to embark.

"I am he," said Camaralzaman, who had opened the door.
"The gardener who took my passage is ill and cannot see you,
but please come in and take these jars of olives and my bag,
and I will follow as soon as I have taken leave of him."

The sailors did as he asked, and the captain before leaving charged
Camaralzaman to lose no time, as the wind was fair, and he wished
to set sail at once.

As soon as they were gone the prince returned to the cottage
to bid farewell to his old friend, and to thank him once more
for all his kindness.  But the old man was at his last gasp,
and had barely murmured his confession of faith when he expired.

Camaralzaman was obliged to stay and pay him the last offices,
so having dug a grave in the garden he wrapped the kind old man up
and buried him.  He then locked the door, gave up the key to the owner
of the garden, and hurried to the quay only to hear that the ship
had sailed long ago, after waiting three hours for him.

It may well be believed that the prince felt in despair at this
fresh misfortune, which obliged him to spend another year in a strange
and distasteful country.  Moreover, he had once more lost the Princess
Badoura's talisman, which he feared he might never see again.
There was nothing left for him but to hire the garden as the old man
had done, and to live on in the cottage.  As he could not well cultivate
the garden by himself, he engaged a lad to help him, and to secure
the rest of the treasure he put the remaining gold dust into fifty more
jars, filling them up with olives so as to have them ready for transport.

Whilst the prince was settling down to this second year of toil
and privation, the ship made a rapid voyage and arrived safely
at the Ebony Island.

As the palace of the new king, or rather of the Princess Badoura,
overlooked the harbour, she saw the ship entering it and asked what
vessel it was coming in so gaily decked with flags, and was told
that it was a ship from the Island of the Idolaters which yearly
brought rich merchandise.

The princess, ever on the look out for any chance of news of her
beloved husband, went down to the harbour attended by some officers
of the court, and arrived just as the captain was landing.  She sent for
him and asked many questions as to his country, voyage, what passengers
he had, and what his vessel was laden with.  The captain answered all
her questions, and said that his passengers consisted entirely of traders
who brought rich stuffs from various countries, fine muslins, precious
stones, musk, amber, spices, drugs, olives, and many other things.

As soon as he mentioned olives, the princess, who was very partial
to them, exclaimed:

"I will take all you have on board.  Have them unloaded and we
will make our bargain at once, and tell the other merchants to let
me see all their best wares before showing them to other people."

"Sire," replied the captain, "I have on board fifty very large
pots of olives.  They belong to a merchant who was left behind,
as in spite of waiting for him he delayed so long that I was obliged
to set sail without him."

"Never mind," said the princess, "unload them all the same, and we
will arrange the price."

The captain accordingly sent his boat off to the ship and it soon
returned laden with the fifty pots of olives.  The princess asked
what they might be worth.

"Sire," replied the captain, "the merchant is very poor.  Your Majesty
will not overpay him if you give him a thousand pieces of silver."

"In order to satisfy him and as he is so poor," said the princess,
"I will order a thousand pieces of gold to be given you, which you
will be sure to remit to him."

So saying she gave orders for the payment and returned to the palace,
having the jars carried before her.  When evening came the Princess
Badoura retired to the inner part of the palace, and going to the
apartments of the Princess Haiatelnefous she had the fifty jars
of olives brought to her.  She opened one to let her friend taste
the olives and to taste them herself, but great was her surprise when,
on pouring some into a dish, she found them all powdered with
gold dust.  "What an adventure! how extraordinary!" she cried.
Then she had the other jars opened, and was more and more surprised
to find the olives in each jar mixed with gold dust.

But when at length her talisman was discovered in one of the jars
her emotion was so great that she fainted away.  The Princess
Haiatelnefous and her women hastened to restore her, and as soon
as she recovered consciousness she covered the precious talisman
with kisses.

Then, dismissing the attendants, she said to her friend:

"You will have guessed, my dear, that it was the sight of this
talisman which has moved me so deeply.  This was the cause
of my separation from my dear husband, and now, I am convinced,
it will be the means of our reunion."

As soon as it was light next day the Princess Badoura sent
for the captain, and made further inquiries about the merchant
who owned the olive jars she had bought.

In reply the captain told her all he knew of the place where the
young man lived, and how, after engaging his passage, he came
to be left behind.

"If that is the case," said the princess, "you must set sail
at once and go back for him.  He is a debtor of mine and must be
brought here at once, or I will confiscate all your merchandise.
I shall now give orders to have all the warehouses where your cargo
is placed under the royal seal, and they will only be opened when you
have brought me the man I ask for.  Go at once and obey my orders."

The captain had no choice but to do as he was bid, so hastily
provisioning his ship he started that same evening on his return voyage.

When, after a rapid passage, he gained sight of the Island of Idolaters,
he judged it better not to enter the harbour, but casting anchor
at some distance he embarked at night in a small boat with six
active sailors and landed near Camaralzaman's cottage.

The prince was not asleep, and as he lay awake moaning over
all the sad events which had separated him from his wife,
he thought he heard a knock at the garden door.  He went to
open it, and was immediately seized by the captain and sailors,
who without a word of explanation forcibly bore him off to
the boat, which took them back to the ship without loss of time.
No sooner were they on board than they weighed anchor and set sail.

Camaralzaman, who had kept silence till then, now asked the captain
(whom he had recognised) the reason for this abduction.

"Are you not a debtor of the King of the Ebony Island?" asked the captain.

"I?  Why, I never even heard of him before, and never set foot
in his kingdom!" was the answer.

"Well, you must know better than I," said the captain.  "You will soon
see him now, and meantime be content where you are and have patience."

The return voyage was as prosperous as the former one, and though
it was night when the ship entered the harbour, the captain lost no
time in landing with his passenger, whom he conducted to the palace,
where he begged an audience with the king.

Directly the Princess Badoura saw the prince she recognised him in
spite of his shabby clothes.  She longed to throw herself on his neck,
but restrained herself, feeling it was better for them both that
she should play her part a little longer.  She therefore desired
one of her officers to take care of him and to treat him well.
Next she ordered another officer to remove the seals from the warehouse,
whilst she presented the captain with a costly diamond, and told
him to keep the thousand pieces of gold paid for the olives,
as she would arrange matters with the merchant himself.

She then returned to her private apartments, where she told the
Princess Haiatelnefous all that had happened, as well as her plans for
the future, and begged her assistance, which her friend readily promised.

Next morning she ordered the prince to be taken to the bath and
clothed in a manner suitable to an emir or governor of a province.
He was then introduced to the council, where his good looks and grand
air drew the attention of all on him.

Princess Badoura, delighted to see him looking himself once more,
turned to the other emirs, saying:

"My lords, I introduce to you a new colleague, Camaralzaman, whom I
have known on my travels and who, I can assure you, you will find
well deserves your regard and admiration."

Camaralzaman was much surprised at hearing the king--whom he never
suspected of being a woman in disguise--asserting their acquaintance,
for he felt sure he had never seen her before.  However he
received all the praises bestowed on him with becoming modesty,
and prostrating himself, said:

"Sire, I cannot find words in which to thank your Majesty
for the great honour conferred on me.  I can but assure
you that I will do all in my power to prove myself worthy of it."

On leaving the council the prince was conducted to a splendid house
which had been prepared for him, where he found a full establishment
and well-filled stables at his orders.  On entering his study his
steward presented him with a coffer filled with gold pieces for his
current expenses.  He felt more and more puzzled by such good fortune,
and little guessed that the Princess of China was the cause of it.

After a few days the Princess Badoura promoted Camaralzaman to the
post of grand treasurer, an office which he filled with so much
integrity and benevolence as to win universal esteem.

He would now have thought himself the happiest of men had it not
been for that separation which he never ceased to bewail.  He had
no clue to the mystery of his present position, for the princess,
out of compliment to the old king, had taken his name, and was
generally known as King Armanos the younger, few people remembering
that on her first arrival she went by another name.

At length the princess felt that the time had come to put an end
to her own and the prince's suspense, and having arranged all her
plans with the Princess Haiatelnefous, she informed Camaralzaman
that she wished his advice on some important business, and, to avoid
being disturbed, desired him to come to the palace that evening.

The prince was punctual, and was received in the private apartment,
when, having ordered her attendants to withdraw, the princess took
from a small box the talisman, and, handing it to Camaralzaman,
said:  "Not long ago an astrologer gave me this talisman.  As you
are universally well informed, you can perhaps tell me what is its use."

Camaralzaman took the talisman and, holding it to the light,
cried with surprise, "Sire, you ask me the use of this talisman.
Alas! hitherto it has been only a source of misfortune to me,
being the cause of my separation from the one I love best on earth.
The story is so sad and strange that I am sure your Majesty will be
touched by it if you will permit me to tell it you."

"I will hear it some other time," replied the princess.
"Meanwhile I fancy it is not quite unknown to me.  Wait here for me.
I will return shortly."

So saying she retired to another room, where she hastily changed
her masculine attire for that of a woman, and, after putting on
the girdle she wore the day they parted, returned to Camaralzaman.

The prince recognised her at once, and, embracing her with the
utmost tenderness, cried, "Ah, how can I thank the king for this
delightful surprise?"

"Do not expect ever to see the king again," said the princess,
as she wiped the tears of joy from her eyes, "in me you see the king.
Let us sit down, and I will tell you all about it."

She then gave a full account of all her adventures since their parting,
and dwelt much on the charms and noble disposition of the
Princess Haiatelnefous, to whose friendly assistance she owed
so much.  When she had done she asked to hear the prince's story,
and in this manner they spent most of the night.

Next morning the princess resumed her woman's clothes, and as soon
as she was ready she desired the chief eunuch to beg King Armanos
to come to her apartments.

When the king arrived great was his surprise at finding a strange
lady in company of the grand treasurer who had no actual right to
enter the private apartment.  Seating himself he asked for the king.

"Sire," said the princess, "yesterday I was the king, to-day I am
only the Princess of China and wife to the real Prince Camaralzaman,
son of King Schahzaman, and I trust that when your Majesty shall
have heard our story you will not condemn the innocent deception I
have been obliged to practise."

The king consented to listen, and did so with marked surprise.

At the close of her narrative the princess said, "Sire, as our religion
allows a man to have more than one wife, I would beg your Majesty
to give your daughter, the Princess Haiatelnefous, in marriage
to Prince Camaralzaman.  I gladly yield to her the precedence and
title of Queen in recognition of the debt of gratitude which I owe her."

King Armanos heard the princess with surprise and admiration,
then, turning to Camaralzaman, he said, "My son, as your wife,
the Princess Badoura (whom I have hitherto looked on as my son-in-law),
consents to share your hand and affections with my daughter,
I have only to ask if this marriage is agreeable to you, and if you
will consent to accept the crown which the Princess Badoura deserves
to wear all her life, but which she prefers to resign for love of you."

"Sire," replied Camaralzaman, "I can refuse your Majesty nothing."

Accordingly Camaralzaman was duly proclaimed king, and as duly
married with all pomp to the Princess Haiatelnefous, with whose
beauty, talents, and affections he had every reason to be pleased.

The two queens lived in true sisterly harmony together, and after
a time each presented King Camaralzaman with a son, whose births
were celebrated throughout the kingdom with the utmost rejoicing.



Noureddin and the Fair Persian


Balsora was the capital of a kingdom long tributary to the caliph.
During the time of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid the king of Balsora,
who was his cousin, was called Zinebi.  Not thinking one vizir enough
for the administration of his estates he had two, named Khacan
and Saouy.

Khacan was kind, generous, and liberal, and took pleasure
in obliging, as far as in him lay, those who had business with him.
Throughout the entire kingdom there was no one who did not esteem
and praise him as he deserved.

Saouy was quite a different character, and repelled everyone with
whom he came in contact; he was always gloomy, and, in spite of his
great riches, so miserly that he denied himself even the necessaries
of life.  What made him particularly detested was the great aversion
he had to Khacan, of whom he never ceased to speak evil to the king.

One day, while the king amused himself talking with his two
vizirs and other members of the council, the conversation turned
on female slaves.  While some declared that it sufficed for a
slave to be beautiful, others, and Khacan was among the number,
maintained that beauty alone was not enough, but that it must
be accompanied by wit, wisdom, modesty, and, if possible, knowledge.

The king not only declared himself to be of this opinion, but charged
Khacan to procure him a slave who should fulfil all these conditions.
Saouy, who had been of the opposite side, and was jealous of the
honour done to Khacan, said, "Sire, it will be very difficult to find
a slave as accomplished as your Majesty desires, and, if she is
to be found, she will be cheap if she cost less than 10,000 gold pieces."

"Saouy," answered the king, "you seem to find that a very great sum.
For you it may be so, but not for me."

And forthwith he ordered his grand treasurer, who was present,
to send 10,000 gold pieces to Khacan for the purchase of the slave.

As soon, then, as Khacan returned home he sent for the dealers in
female slaves, and charged them directly they had found such a one
as he described to inform him.  They promised to do their utmost,
and no day passed that they did not bring a slave for his inspection
but none was found without some defect.

At length, early one morning, while Khacan was on his way to the
king's palace, a dealer, throwing himself in his way, announced eagerly
that a Persian merchant, arrived late the previous evening, had a
slave to sell whose wit and wisdom were equal to her incomparable beauty.

Khacan, overjoyed at this news, gave orders that the slave should
be brought for his inspection on his return from the palace.
The dealer appearing at the appointed hour, Khacan found the slave
beautiful beyond his expectations, and immediately gave her the name
of "The Fair Persian."

Being a man of great wisdom and learning, he perceived in the short
conversation he had with her that he would seek in vain another
slave to surpass her in any of the qualities required by the king,
and therefore asked the dealer what price the merchant put upon her.

"Sir," was the answer, "for less than 10,000 gold pieces he will not
let her go; he declares that, what with masters for her instruction,
and for bodily exercises, not to speak of clothing and nourishment,
he has already spent that sum upon her.  She is in every way fit to be
the slave of a king; she plays every musical instrument, she sings,
she dances, she makes verses, in fact there is no accomplishment
in which she does not excel."

Khacan, who was better able to judge of her merits than the dealer,
wishing to bring the matter to a conclusion, sent for the merchant,
and said to him, "It is not for myself that I wish to buy your slave,
but for the king.  Her price, however, is too high."

"Sir," replied the merchant, "I should esteem it an honour to present
her to his Majesty, did it become a merchant to do such a thing.
I ask no more than the sum it has cost me to make her such as she is."

Khacan, not wishing to bargain, immediately had the sum counted out,
and given to the merchant, who before withdrawing said:

"Sir, as she is destined for the king, I would have you observe
that she is extremely tired with the long journey, and before
presenting her to his Majesty you would do well to keep her
a fortnight in your own house, and to see that a little care is
bestowed upon her.  The sun has tanned her complexion, but when she
has been two or three times to the bath, and is fittingly dressed,
you will see how much her beauty will be increased."

Khacan thanked the merchant for his advice, and determined to follow it.
He gave the beautiful Persian an apartment near to that of his wife,
whom he charged to treat her as befitting a lady destined for the king,
and to order for her the most magnificent garments.

Before bidding adieu to the fair Persian, he said to her:
"No happiness can be greater than what I have procured for you;
judge for yourself, you now belong to the king.  I have, however, to warn
you of one thing.  I have a son, who, though not wanting in sense,
is young, foolish, and headstrong, and I charge you to keep him
at a distance."

The Persian thanked him for his advice, and promised to profit
by it.

Noureddin--for so the vizir's son was named--went freely in and out
of his mother's apartments.  He was young, well-made and agreeable,
and had the gift of charming all with whom he came in contact.
As soon as he saw the beautiful Persian, though aware that she was
destined for the king, he let himself be carried away by her charms,
and determined at once to use every means in his power to retain
her for himself.  The Persian was equally captivated by Noureddin,
and said to herself:  "The vizir does me too great honour in buying me
for the king.  I should esteem myself very happy if he would give me
to his son."

Noureddin availed himself of every opportunity to gaze upon her beauty,
to talk and laugh with her, and never would have left her side
if his mother had not forced him.

Some time having elapsed, on account of the long journey, since the
beautiful Persian had been to the bath, five or six days after her
purchase the vizir's wife gave orders that the bath should be heated
for her, and that her own female slaves should attend her there,
and after-wards should array her in a magnificent dress that had
been prepared for her.

Her toilet completed, the beautiful Persian came to present herself
to the vizir's wife, who hardly recognised her, so greatly was her
beauty increased.  Kissing her hand, the beautiful slave said:
"Madam, I do not know how you find me in this dress that you
have had prepared for me; your women assure me that it suits me
so well that they hardly knew me.  If it is the truth they tell me,
and not flattery, it is to you I owe the transformation."

"My daughter," answered the vizir's wife, "they do not flatter you.
I myself hardly recognised you.  The improvement is not due to the
dress alone, but largely to the beautifying effects of the bath.
I am so struck by its results, that I would try it on myself."

Acting forthwith on this decision she ordered two little slaves
during her absence to watch over the beautiful Persian, and not
to allow Noureddin to enter should he come.

She had no sooner gone than he arrived, and not finding his mother
in her apartment, would have sought her in that of the Persian.
The two little slaves barred the entrance, saying that his mother had
given orders that he was not to be admitted.  Taking each by an arm,
he put them out of the anteroom, and shut the door.  Then they
rushed to the bath, informing their mistress with shrieks and tears
that Noureddin had driven them away by force and gone in.

This news caused great consternation to the lady, who, dressing
herself as quickly as possible, hastened to the apartment of
the fair Persian, to find that Noureddin had already gone out.
Much astonished to see the vizir's wife enter in tears,
the Persian asked what misfortune had happened.

"What!" exclaimed the lady, "you ask me that, knowing that my son
Noureddin has been alone with you?"

"But, madam," inquired the Persian, "what harm is there in that?"

"How!  Has my husband not told you that you are destined for the king?"

"Certainly, but Noureddin has just been to tell me that his father
has changed his mind and has bestowed me upon him.  I believed him,
and so great is my affection for Noureddin that I would willingly
pass my life with him."

"Would to heaven," exclaimed the wife of the vizir, "that what you
say were true; but Noureddin has deceived you, and his father
will sacrifice him in vengeance for the wrong he has done."

So saying, she wept bitterly, and all her slaves wept with her.

Khacan, entering shortly after this, was much astonished to find his wife
and her slaves in tears, and the beautiful Persian greatly perturbed.
He inquired the cause, but for some time no answer was forthcoming.
When his wife was at length sufficiently calm to inform him
of what had happened, his rage and mortification knew no bounds.
Wringing his hands and rending his beard, he exclaimed:

"Wretched son! thou destroyest not only thyself but thy father.
The king will shed not only thy blood but mine."  His wife tried
to console him, saying:  "Do not torment thyself.  With the sale
of my jewels I will obtain 10,000 gold pieces, and with this sum you
will buy another slave."

"Do not suppose," replied her husband, "that it is the loss of the money
that affects me.  My honour is at stake, and that is more precious
to me than all my wealth.  You know that Saouy is my mortal enemy.
He will relate all this to the king, and you will see the consequences
that will ensue."

"My lord," said his wife, "I am quite aware of Saouy's baseness,
and that he is capable of playing you this malicious trick.
But how can he or any one else know what takes place in this house?
Even if you are suspected and the king accuses you, you have only
to say that, after examining the slave, you did not find her worthy
of his Majesty.  Reassure yourself, and send to the dealers,
saying that you are not satisfied, and wish them to find you
another slave."

This advice appearing reasonable, Khacan decided to follow it,
but his wrath against his son did not abate.  Noureddin dared
not appear all that day, and fearing to take refuge with his
usual associates in case his father should seek him there,
he spent the day in a secluded garden where he was not known.
He did not return home till after his father had gone to bed,
and went out early next morning before the vizir awoke, and these
precautions he kept up during an entire month.

His mother, though knowing very well that he returned to the house
every evening, dare not ask her husband to pardon him.  At length
she took courage and said:

"My lord, I know that a son could not act more basely towards
his father than Noureddin has done towards you, but after
all will you now pardon him?  Do you not consider the harm
you may be doing yourself, and fear that malicious people,
seeking the cause of your estrangement, may guess the real one?"

"Madam," replied the vizir, "what you say is very just, but I cannot
pardon Noureddin before I have mortified him as he deserves."

"He will be sufficiently punished," answered the lady, "if you do
as I suggest.  In the evening, when he returns home, lie in wait
for him and pretend that you will slay him.  I will come to his aid,
and while pointing out that you only yield his life at my supplications,
you can force him to take the beautiful Persian on any conditions
you please."  Khacan agreed to follow this plan, and everything
took place as arranged.  On Noureddin's return Khacan pretended
to be about to slay him, but yielding to his wife's intercession,
said to his son:

"You owe your life to your mother.  I pardon you on her intercession,
and on the conditions that you take the beautiful Persian for your wife,
and not your slave, that you never sell her, nor put her away."

Noureddin, not hoping for so great indulgence, thanked his father,
and vowed to do as he desired.  Khacan was at great pains frequently
to speak to the king of the difficulties attending the commission he
had given him, but some whispers of what had actually taken place
did reach Saouy's ears.

More than a year after these events the minister took a chill,
leaving the bath while still heated to go out on important business.
This resulted in inflammation of the lungs, which rapidly increased.
The vizir, feeling that his end was at hand, sent for Noureddin,
and charged him with his dying breath never to part with the
beautiful Persian.

Shortly afterwards he expired, leaving universal regret throughout
the kingdom; rich and poor alike followed him to the grave.
Noureddin showed every mark of the deepest grief at his father's death,
and for long refused to see any one.  At length a day came when,
one of his friends being admitted, urged him strongly to be consoled,
and to resume his former place in society.  This advice Noureddin
was not slow to follow, and soon he formed little society of ten
young men all about his own age, with whom he spent all his time in
continual feasting and merry-making.

Sometimes the fair Persian consented to appear at these festivities,
but she disapproved of this lavish expenditure, and did not scruple
to warn Noureddin of the probable consequences.  He, however, only
laughed at her advice, saying, that his father had always kept him in
too great constraint, and that now he rejoiced at his new-found liberty.

What added to the confusion in his affairs was that he refused
to look into his accounts with his steward, sending him away every
time he appeared with his book.

"See only that I live well," he said, "and do not disturb me about
anything else."

Not only did Noureddin's friends constantly partake of his hospitality,
but in every way they took advantage of his generosity; everything of
his that they admired, whether land, houses, baths, or any
other source of his revenue, he immediately bestowed on them.
In vain the Persian protested against the wrong he did himself;
he continued to scatter with the same lavish hand.

Throughout one entire year Noureddin did nothing but amuse himself,
and dissipate the wealth his father had taken such pains to acquire.
The year had barely elapsed, when one day, as they sat at table,
there came a knock at the door.  The slaves having been sent away,
Noureddin went to open it himself.  One of his friends had risen at
the same time, but Noureddin was before him, and finding the intruder
to be the steward, he went out and closed the door.  The friend,
curious to hear what passed between them, hid himself behind the hangings,
and heard the following words:

"My lord," said the steward, "I beg a thousand pardons for
interrupting you, but what I have long foreseen has taken place.
Nothing remains of the sums you gave me for your expenses, and all
other sources of income are also at end, having been transferred
by you to others.  If you wish me to remain in your service,
furnish me with the necessary funds, else I must withdraw."

So great was Noureddin's consternation that he had not a word
to say in reply.

The friend, who had been listening behind the curtain, immediately
hastened to communicate the news to the rest of the company.

"If this is so," they said, "we must cease to come here."

Noureddin re-entering at that moment, they plainly saw, in spite
of his efforts to dissemble, that what they had heard was the truth.
One by one they rose, and each with a different excuse left the room,
till presently he found himself alone, though little suspecting the
resolution his friends had taken.  Then, seeing the beautiful Persian,
he confided to her the statement of the steward, with many expressions
of regret for his own carelessness.

"Had I but followed your advice, beautiful Persian," he said,
"all this would not have happened, but at least I have this consolation,
that I have spent my fortune in the company of friends who will
not desert me in an hour of need.  To-morrow I will go to them,
and amongst them they will lend me a sum sufficient to start
in some business."

Accordingly next morning early Noureddin went to seek his ten friends,
who all lived in the same street.  Knocking at the door of the first
and chief, the slave who opened it left him to wait in a hall while
he announced his visit to his master.  "Noureddin!" he heard him
exclaim quite audibly.  "Tell him, every time he calls, that I am
not at home."  The same thing happened at the second door, and also at
the third, and so on with all the ten.  Noureddin, much mortified,
recognised too late that he had confided in false friends,
who abandoned him in his hour of need.  Overwhelmed with grief,
he sought consolation from the beautiful Persian.

"Alas, my lord," she said, "at last you are convinced of the truth
of what I foretold.  There is now no other resource left but to sell
your slaves and your furniture."

First then he sold the slaves, and subsisted for a time on the proceeds,
after that the furniture was sold, and as much of it was valuable it
sufficed for some time.  Finally this resource also came to an end,
and again he sought counsel from the beautiful Persian.

"My lord," she said, "I know that the late vizir, your father,
bought me for 10,000 gold pieces, and though I have diminished
in value since, I should still fetch a large sum.  Do not therefore
hesitate to sell me, and with the money you obtain go and establish
yourself in business in some distant town."

"Charming Persian," answered Noureddin, "how could I be guilty
of such baseness?  I would die rather than part from you whom
I love better than my life."

"My lord," she replied, "I am well aware of your love for me,
which is only equalled by mine for you, but a cruel necessity
obliges us to seek the only remedy."

Noureddin, convinced at length of the truth of her words, yielded,
and reluctantly led her to the slave market, where, showing her
to a dealer named Hagi Hassan, he inquired her value.

Taking them into a room apart, Hagi Hassan exclaimed as soon as she
had unveiled, "My lord, is not this the slave your father bought
for 10,000 pieces?"

On learning that it was so, he promised to obtain the highest possible
price for her.  Leaving the beautiful Persian shut up in the room alone,
he went ont to seek the slave merchants, announcing to them that he
had found the pearl among slaves, and asking them to come and put
a value upon her.  As soon as they saw her they agreed that less
than 4,000 gold pieces could not be asked.  Hagi Hassan, then closing
the door upon her, began to offer her for sale--calling out:
"Who will bid 4,000 gold pieces for the Persian slave?"

Before any of the merchants had bid, Saouy happened to pass that way,
and judging that it must be a slave of extraordinary beauty, rode up
to Hagi Hassan and desired to see her.  Now it was not the custom
to show a slave to a private bidder, but as no one dared to disobey
the vizir his request was granted.

As soon as Saouy saw the Persian he was so struck by her beauty,
that he immediately wished to possess her, and not knowing that she
belonged to Noureddin, he desired Hagi Hassan to send for the owner
and to conclude the bargain at once.

Hagi Hassan then sought Noureddin, and told him that his slave
was going far below her value, and that if Saouy bought her he
was capable of not paying the money.  "What you must do," he said,
"is to pretend that you had no real intention of selling your slave,
and only swore you would in a fit of anger against her.  When I
present her to Saouy as if with your consent you must step in,
and with blows begin to lead her away."

Noureddin did as Hagi Hassan advised, to the great wrath of Saouy,
who riding straight at him endeavoured to take the beautiful Persian
from him by force.  Noureddin letting her go, seized Saouy's horse
by the bridle, and, encouraged by the applause of the bystanders,
dragged him to the ground, beat him severely, and left him in the
gutter streaming with blood.  Then, taking the beautiful Persian,
he returned home amidst the acclamations of the people, who detested
Saouy so much that they would neither interfere in his behalf nor
allow his slaves to protect him.

Covered from head to foot with mire and streaming with blood he rose,
and leaning on two of his slaves went straight to the palace,
where he demanded an audience of the king, to whom he related what
had taken place in these words:

"May it please your Majesty, I had gone to the slave market to buy myself
a cook.  While there I heard a slave being offered for 4,000 pieces.
Asking to see her, I found she was of incomparable beauty,
and was being sold by Noureddin, the son of your late vizir,
to whom your Majesty will remember giving a sum of 10,000 gold
pieces for the purchase of a slave.  This is the identical slave,
whom instead of bringing to your Majesty he gave to his own son.
Since the death of his father this Noureddin has run through his
entire fortune, has sold all his possessions, and is now reduced
to selling the slave.  Calling him to me, I said:  "Noureddin, I
will give you 10,000 gold pieces for your slave, whom I will present
to the king.  I will interest him at the same time in your behalf,
and this will be worth much more to you than what extra money you
might obtain from the merchants."  "Bad old man," he exclaimed,
"rather than sell my slave to you I would give her to a Jew."
"But, Noureddin," I remonstrated, "you do not consider that in speaking
thus you wrong the king, to whom your father owed everything."
This remonstrance only irritated him the more.  Throwing himself on me
like a madman, he tore me from my horse, beat me to his heart's content,
and left me in the state your Majesty sees."

So saying Saouy turned aside his head and wept bitterly.

The king's wrath was kindled against Noureddin.  He ordered the captain
of the guard to take with him forty men, to pillage Noureddin's house,
to rase it to the ground, and to bring Noureddin and the slave to him.
A doorkeeper, named Sangiar, who had been a slave of Khacan's,
hearing this order given, slipped out of the king's apartment,
and hastened to warn Noureddin to take flight instantly with the
beautiful Persian.  Then, presenting him with forty gold pieces,
he disappeared before Noureddin had time to thank him.

As soon, then, as the fair Persian had put on her veil they
fled together, and had the good fortune to get out of the town
without being observed.  At the mouth of the Euphrates they
found a ship just about to start for Bagdad.  They embarked,
and immediately the anchor was raised and they set sail.

When the captain of the guard reached Noureddin's house he caused his
soldiers to burst open the door and to enter by force, but no trace was
to be found of Noureddin and his slave, nor could the neighbours give
any information about them.  When the king heard that they had escaped,
he issued a proclamation that a reward of 1,000 gold pieces would be
given to whoever would bring him Noureddin and the slave, but that,
on the contrary, whoever hid them would be severely punished.
Meanwhile Noureddin and the fair Persian had safely reached Bagdad.
When the vessel had come to an anchor they paid five gold pieces for
their passage and went ashore.  Never having been in Bagdad before,
they did not know where to seek a lodging.  Wandering along the banks
of the Tigris, they skirted a garden enclosed by a high wall.
The gate was shut, but in front of it was an open vestibule with a sofa
on either side.  "Here," said Noureddin, "let us pass the night,"
and reclining on the sofas they soon fell asleep.

Now this garden belonged to the Caliph.  In the middle of it was
a vast pavilion, whose superb saloon had eighty windows, each window
having a lustre, lit solely when the Caliph spent the evening there.
Only the door-keeper lived there, an old soldier named Scheih Ibrahim,
who had strict orders to be very careful whom he admitted,
and never to allow any one to sit on the sofas by the door.
It happened that evening that he had gone out on an errand.
When he came back and saw two persons asleep on the sofas he was
about to drive them out with blows, but drawing nearer he perceived
that they were a handsome young man and beautiful young woman,
and decided to awake them by gentler means.  Noureddin, on being awoke,
told the old man that they were strangers, and merely wished to pass
the night there.  "Come with me," said Scheih Ibrahim, "I will lodge
you better, and will show you a magnificent garden belonging to me."
So saying the doorkeeper led the way into the Caliph's garden,
the beauties of which filled them with wonder and amazement.
Noureddin took out two gold pieces, and giving them to Scheih Ibrahim
said

"I beg you to get us something to eat that we may make merry together."
Being very avaricious, Scheih Ibrahim determined to spend only
the tenth part of the money and to keep the rest to himself.
While he was gone Noureddin and the Persian wandered through the
gardens and went up the white marble staircase of the pavilion as far
as the locked door of the saloon.  On the return of Scheih Ibrahim
they begged him to open it, and to allow them to enter and admire
the magnificence within.  Consenting, he brought not only the key,
but a light, and immediately unlocked the door.  Noureddin and the
Persian entering, were dazzled with the magnificence they beheld.
The paintings and furniture were of astonishing beauty, and between
each window was a silver arm holding a candle.

Scheih Ibrahim spread the table in front of a sofa, and all
three ate together.  When they had finished eating Noureddin
asked the old man to bring them a bottle of wine.

"Heaven forbid," said Scheih Ibrahim, "that I should come in contact
with wine!  I who have four times made the pilgrimage to Mecca,
and have renounced wine for ever."

"You would, however, do us a great service in procuring
us some," said Noureddin.  "You need not touch it yourself.
Take the ass which is tied to the gate, lead it to the nearest
wine-shop, and ask some passer-by to order two jars of wine;
have them put in the ass's panniers, and drive him before you.
Here are two pieces of gold for the expenses."

At sight of the gold, Scheih Ibrahim set off at once to execute
the commission.  On his return, Noureddin said:  "We have still need
of cups to drink from, and of fruit, if you can procure us some."
Scheih Ibrahim disappeared again, and soon returned with a table spread
with cups of gold and silver, and every sort of beautiful fruit.
Then he withdrew, in spite of repeated invitations to remain.

Noureddin and the beautiful Persian, finding the wine excellent,
drank of it freely, and while drinking they sang.  Both had fine
voices, and Scheih Ibrahim listened to them with great pleasure--
first from a distance, then he drew nearer, and finally put his
head in at the door.  Noureddin, seeing him, called to him to come
in and keep them company.  At first the old man declined, but was
persuaded to enter the room, to sit down on the edge of the sofa
nearest the door, and at last to draw closer and to seat himself
by the beautiful Persian, who urged him so persistently to drink
her health that at length he yielded, and took the cup she offered.

Now the old man only made a pretence of renouncing wine;
he frequented wine-shops like other people, and had taken none
of the precautions Noureddin had proposed.  Having once yielded,
he was easily persuaded to take a second cup, and a third,
and so on till he no longer knew what he was doing.  Till near
midnight they continued drinking, laughing, and singing together.

About that time the Persian, perceiving that the room was lit
by only one miserable tallow candle, asked Scheih Ibrahim to light
some of the beautiful candles in the silver arms.

"Light them yourself," answered the old man; "you are younger than I,
but let five or six be enough."

She did not stop, however, till she had lit all the eighty, but Scheih
Ibrahim was not conscious of this, and when, soon after that,
Noureddin proposed to have some of the lustres lit, he answered:

"You are more capable of lighting them than I, but not more than three."

Noureddin, far from contenting himself with three, lit all,
and opened all the eighty windows.

The Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, chancing at that moment to open
a window in the saloon of his palace looking on the garden,
was surprised to see the pavilion brilliantly illuminated.
Calling the grand-vizir, Giafar, he said to him:

"Negligent vizir, look at the pavilion, and tell me why it is lit
up when I am not there."

When the vizir saw that it was as the Caliph said, he trembled
with fear, and immediately invented an excuse.

"Commander of the Faithful," he said, "I must tell you that four
or five days ago Scheih Ibrahim told me that he wished to have
an assembly of the ministers of his mosque, and asked permission
to hold it in the pavilion.  I granted his request, but forgot
since to mention it to your Majesty."

"Giafar," replied the Caliph, "you have committed three faults--
first, in giving the permission; second, in not mentioning it
to me; and third, in not investigating the matter more closely.
For punishment I condemn you to spend the rest of the night with me
in company of these worthy people.  While I dress myself as a citizen,
go and disguise yourself, and then come with me."

When they reached the garden gate they found it open, to the great
indignation of the Caliph.  The door of the pavilion being also open,
he went softly upstairs, and looked in at the half-closed door
of the saloon.  Great was his surprise to see Scheih Ibrahim,
whose sobriety he had never doubted, drinking and singing with a young
man and a beautiful lady.  The Caliph, before giving way to his anger,
determined to watch and see who the people were and what they did.

Presently Scheih Ibrahim asked the beautiful Persian if anything
were wanting to complete her enjoyment of the evening.

"If only," she said, "I had an instrument upon which I might play."

Scheih Ibrahim immediately took a lute from a cup-board and gave
it to the Persian, who began to play on it, singing the while
with such skill and taste that the Caliph was enchanted.
When she ceased he went softly downstairs and said to the vizir:

"Never have I heard a finer voice, nor the lute better played.
I am determined to go in and make her play to me."

"Commander of the Faithful," said the vizir, "if Scheih Ibrahim
recognises you he will die of fright."

"I should be sorry for that," answered the Caliph, "and I am going
to take steps to prevent it.  Wait here till I return."

Now the Caliph had caused a bend in the river to form a lake in
his garden.  There the finest fish in the Tigris were to be found,
but fishing was strictly forbidden.  It happened that night,
however, that a fisherman had taken advantage of the gate being
open to go in and cast his nets.  He was just about to draw them
when he saw the Caliph approaching.  Recognising him at once in spite
of his disguise, he threw himself at his feet imploring forgiveness.

"Fear nothing," said the Caliph, "only rise up and draw thy nets."

The fisherman did as he was told, and produced five or six fine fish,
of which the Caliph took the two largest.  Then he desired the
fisherman to change clothes with him, and in a few minutes the Caliph
was transformed into a fisherman, even to the shoes and the turban.
Taking the two fish in his hand, he returned to the vizir, who,
not recognising him, would have sent him about his business.
Leaving the vizir at the foot of the stairs, the Caliph went up
and knocked at the door of the saloon.  Noureddin opened it,
and the Caliph, standing on the threshold, said:

"Scheih Ibrahim, I am the fisher Kerim.  Seeing that you are feasting
with your friends, I bring you these fish."

Noureddin and the Persian said that when the fishes were properly
cooked and dressed they would gladly eat of them.  The Caliph then
returned to the vizir, and they set to work in Scheih Ibrahim's
house to cook the fish, of which they made so tempting a dish
that Noureddin and the fair Persian ate of it with great relish.
When they had finished Noureddin took thirty gold pieces (all
that remained of what Sangiar had given him) and presented them to
the Caliph, who, thanking him, asked as a further favour if the lady
would play him one piece on the lute.  The Persian gladly consented,
and sang and played so as to delight the Caliph.

Noureddin, in the habit of giving to others whatever they admired,
said, "Fisherman, as she pleases you so much, take her; she is yours."

The fair Persian, astounded that he should wish to part from her,
took her lute, and with tears in her eyes sang her reproaches to
its music.

The Caliph (still in the character of fisherman) said to him,
"Sir, I perceive that this fair lady is your slave.  Oblige me,
I beg you, by relating your history."

Noureddin willingly granted this request, and recounted everything
from the purchase of the slave down to the present moment.

"And where do you go now?" asked the Caliph.

"Wherever the hand of Allah leads me," said Noureddin.

"Then, if you will listen to me," said the Caliph, "you will
immediately return to Balsora.  I will give you a letter to the king,
which will ensure you a good reception from him."

"It is an unheard-of thing," said Noureddin, "that a fisherman
should be in correspondence with a king."

"Let not that astonish you," answered the Caliph; "we studied together,
and have always remained the best of friends, though fortune,
while making him a king, left me a humble fisherman."

The Caliph then took a sheet of paper, and wrote the following letter,
at the top of which he put in very small characters this formula
to show that he must be implicitly obeyed:--"In the name of the Most
Merciful God.

"Letter of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid to the King of Balsora.

"Haroun-al-Raschid, son of Mahdi, sends this letter to Mohammed Zinebi,
his cousin.  As soon as Noureddin, son of the Vizir Khacan,
bearer of this letter, has given it to thee, and thou hast read it,
take off thy royal mantle, put it on his shoulders, and seat him
in thy place without fail.  Farewell."

The Caliph then gave this letter to Noureddin, who immediately
set off, with only what little money he possessed when Sangiar
came to his assistance.  The beautiful Persian, inconsolable at
his departure, sank on a sofa bathed in tears.

When Noureddin had left the room, Scheih Ibrahim, who had hitherto
kept silence, said:  "Kerim, for two miserable fish thou hast
received a purse and a slave.  I tell thee I will take the slave,
and as to the purse, if it contains silver thou mayst keep one piece,
if gold then I will take all and give thee what copper pieces I
have in my purse."

Now here it must be related that when the Caliph went upstairs
with the plate of fish he ordered the vizir to hasten to the palace
and bring back four slaves bearing a change of raiment, who should
wait outside the pavilion till the Caliph should clap his hands.

Still personating the fisherman, the Caliph answered:
"Scheih Ibrahim, whatever is in the purse I will share equally
with you, but as to the slave I will keep her for myself.
If you do not agree to these conditions you shall have nothing."

The old man, furious at this insolence as he considered it,
took a cup and threw it at the Caliph, who easily avoided a missile
from the hand of a drunken man.  It hit against the wall, and broke
into a thousand pieces.  Scheih Ibrahim, still more enraged,
then went ont to fetch a stick.  The Caliph at that moment clapped
his hands, and the vizir and the four slaves entering took off
the fisherman's dress and put on him that which they had brought.

When Scheih Ibrahim returned, a thick stick in his hand, the Caliph
was seated on his throne, and nothing remained of the fisherman
but his clothes in the middle of the room.  Throwing himself on the
ground at the Caliph's feet, he said:  "Commander of the Faithful,
your miserable slave has offended you, and craves forgiveness."

The Caliph came down from his throne, and said:  "Rise, I forgive thee."
Then turning to the Persian he said:  "Fair lady, now you know who
I am; learn also that I have sent Noureddin to Balsora to be king,
and as soon as all necessary preparations are made I will send
you there to be queen.  Meanwhile I will give you an apartment
in my palace, where you will be treated with all honour."

At this the beautiful Persian took courage, and the Caliph was as
good as his word, recommending her to the care of his wife Zobeida.

Noureddin made all haste on his journey to Balsora, and on his
arrival there went straight to the palace of the king, of whom he
demanded an audience.  It was immediately granted, and holding
the letter high above his head he forced his way through the crowd.
While the king read the letter he changed colour.  He would instantly
have executed the Caliph's order, but first he showed the letter
to Saouy, whose interests were equally at stake with his own.
Pretending that he wished to read it a second time, Saouy turned
aside as if to seek a better light; unperceived by anyone he tore
off the formula from the top of the letter, put it to his mouth,
and swallowed it.  Then, turning to the king, he said:

"Your majesty has no need to obey this letter.  The writing is indeed
that of the Caliph, but the formula is absent.  Besides, he has not
sent an express with the patent, without which the letter is useless.
Leave all to me, and I will take the consequences."

The king not only listened to the persuasions of Saouy, but gave
Noureddin into his hands.  Such a severe bastinado was first
administered to him, that he was left more dead than alive; then Saouy
threw him into the darkest and deepest dungeon, and fed him only
on bread and water.  After ten days Saouy determined to put an end
to Noureddin's life, but dared not without the king's authority.
To gain this end, he loaded several of his own slaves with rich gifts,
and presented himself at their head to the king, saying that they
were from the new king on his coronation.

"What!" said the king; "is that wretch still alive?  Go and behead
him at once.  I authorise you."

"Sire," said Saouy, "I thank your Majesty for the justice you
do me.  I would further beg, as Noureddin publicly affronted me,
that the execution might be in front of the palace, and that it
might be proclaimed throughout the city, so that no one may be
ignorant of it."

The king granted these requests, and the announcement caused
universal grief, for the memory of Noureddin's father was still fresh
in the hearts of his people.  Saouy, accompanied by twenty of his
own slaves, went to the prison to fetch Noureddin, whom he mounted on
a wretched horse without a saddle.  Arrived at the palace, Saouy went
in to the king, leaving Noureddin in the square, hemmed in not only
by Saouy's slaves but by the royal guard, who had great difficulty
in preventing the people from rushing in and rescuing Noureddin.
So great was the indignation against Saouy that if anyone had set
the example he would have been stoned on his way through the streets.
Saouy, who witnessed the agitation of the people from the windows
of the king's privy chambers, called to the executioner to strike
at once.  The king, however, ordered him to delay; not only was
he jealous of Saouy's interference, but he had another reason.
A troop of horsemen was seen at that moment riding at full gallop
towards the square.  Saouy suspected who they might be, and urged
the king to give the signal for the execution without delay,
but this the king refused to do till he knew who the horsemen were.

Now, they were the vizir Giafar and his suite arriving at full speed
from Bagdad.  For several days after Noureddin's departure with the
letter the Caliph had forgotten to send the express with the patent,
without which the letter was useless.  Hearing a beautiful voice
one day in the women's part of the palace uttering lamentations,
he was informed that it was the voice of the fair Persian,
and suddenly calling to mind the patent, he sent for Giafar,
and ordered him to make for Balsora with the utmost speed--
if Noureddin were dead, to hang Saouy; if he were still alive,
to bring him at once to Bagdad along with the king and Saouy.

Giafar rode at full speed through the square, and alighted
at the steps of the palace, where the king came to greet him.
The vizir's first question was whether Noureddin were still alive.
The king replied that he was, and he was immediately led forth,
though bound hand and foot.  By the vizir's orders his bonds
were immediately undone, and Saouy was tied with the same cords.
Next day Giafar returned to Bagdad, bearing with him the king, Saouy,
and Noureddin.

When the Caliph heard what treatment Noureddin had received,
he authorised him to behead Saouy with his own hands, but he
declined to shed the blood of his enemy, who was forthwith handed
over to the executioner.  The Caliph also desired Noureddin to reign
over Balsora, but this, too, he declined, saying that after what had
passed there he preferred never to return, but to enter the service
of the Caliph.  He became one of his most intimate courtiers, and lived
long in great happiness with the fair Persian.  As to the king,
the Caliph contented himself with sending him back to Balsora, with the
recommendation to be more careful in future in the choice of his vizir.



Aladdin and the Wonderful Lamp


There once lived a poor tailor, who had a son called Aladdin,
a careless, idle boy who would do nothing but play all day long
in the streets with little idle boys like himself.  This so grieved
the father that he died; yet, in spite of his mother's tears
and prayers, Aladdin did not mend his ways.  One day, when he
was playing in the streets as usual, a stranger asked him his age,
and if he were not the son of Mustapha the tailor.

"I am, sir," replied Aladdin; "but he died a long while ago."

On this the stranger, who was a famous African magician, fell on his
neck and kissed him, saying:  "I am your uncle, and knew you from your
likeness to my brother.  Go to your mother and tell her I am coming."

Aladdin ran home, and told his mother of his newly found uncle.

"Indeed, child," she said, "your father had a brother, but I always
thought he was dead."

However, she prepared supper, and bade Aladdin seek his uncle,
who came laden with wine and fruit.  He presently fell down and kissed
the place where Mustapha used to sit, bidding Aladdin's mother not
to be surprised at not having seen him before, as he had been forty
years out of the country.  He then turned to Aladdin, and asked him
his trade, at which the boy hung his head, while his mother burst
into tears.  On learning that Aladdin was idle and would learn no trade,
he offered to take a shop for him and stock it with merchandise.
Next day he bought Aladdin a fine suit of clothes, and took him
all over the city, showing him the sights, and brought him home at
nightfall to his mother, who was overjoyed to see her son so fine.

Next day the magician led Aladdin into some beautiful gardens
a long way outside the city gates.  They sat down by a fountain,
and the magician pulled a cake from his girdle, which he divided
between them.  They then journeyed onwards till they almost reached
the mountains.  Aladdin was so tired that he begged to go back,
but the magician beguiled him with pleasant stories, and led him on
in spite of himself.

At last they came to two mountains divided by a narrow valley.

"We will go no farther," said the false uncle.  "I will show you
something wonderful; only do you gather up sticks while I kindle
a fire."

When it was lit the magician threw on it a powder he had about him,
at the same time saying some magical words.  The earth trembled a little
and opened in front of them, disclosing a square flat stone with a
brass ring in the middle to raise it by.  Aladdin tried to run away,
but the magician caught him and gave him a blow that knocked him down.

"What have I done, uncle?" he said piteously; whereupon the magician
said more kindly:  "Fear nothing, but obey me.  Beneath this stone
lies a treasure which is to be yours, and no one else may touch it,
so you must do exactly as I tell you."

At the word treasure, Aladdin forgot his fears, and grasped the ring
as he was told, saying the names of his father and grandfather.
The stone came up quite easily and some steps appeared.

"Go down," said the magician; "at the foot of those steps you will find
an open door leading into three large halls.  Tuck up your gown and go
through them without touching anything, or you will die instantly.
These halls lead into a garden of fine fruit trees.  Walk on till
you come to a niche in a terrace where stands a lighted lamp.
Pour out the oil it contains and bring it to me."

He drew a ring from his finger and gave it to Aladdin,
bidding him prosper.

Aladdin found everything as the magician had said, gathered some
fruit off the trees, and, having got the lamp, arrived at the mouth
of the cave.  The magician cried out in a great hurry:

"Make haste and give me the lamp."  This Aladdin refused to do until
he was out of the cave.  The magician flew into a terrible passion,
and throwing some more powder on the fire, he said something,
and the stone rolled back into its place.

The magician left Persia for ever, which plainly showed that he
was no uncle of Aladdin's, but a cunning magician who had read in
his magic books of a wonderful lamp, which would make him the most
powerful man in the world.  Though he alone knew where to find it,
he could only receive it from the hand of another.  He had picked
out the foolish Aladdin for this purpose, intending to get the lamp
and kill him afterwards.

For two days Aladdin remained in the dark, crying and lamenting.
At last he clasped his hands in prayer, and in so doing rubbed the ring,
which the magician had forgotten to take from him.  Immediately an
enormous and frightful genie rose out of the earth, saying:

"What wouldst thou with me?  I am the Slave of the Ring, and will
obey thee in all things."

Aladdin fearlessly replied:  "Deliver me from this place!"
whereupon the earth opened, and he found himself outside.
As soon as his eyes could bear the light he went home, but fainted
on the threshold.  When he came to himself he told his mother
what had passed, and showed her the lamp and the fruits he had
gathered in the garden, which were in reality precious stones.
He then asked for some food.

"Alas! child," she said, "I have nothing in the house, but I have
spun a little cotton and will go and sell it."

Aladdin bade her keep her cotton, for he would sell the lamp instead.
As it was very dirty she began to rub it, that it might fetch a
higher price.  Instantly a hideous genie appeared, and asked what she
would have.  She fainted away, but Aladdin, snatching the lamp,
said boldly:

"Fetch me something to eat!"

The genie returned with a silver bowl, twelve silver plates
containing rich meats, two silver cups, and two bottles of wine.
Aladdin's mother, when she came to herself, said:

"Whence comes this splendid feast?"

"Ask not, but eat," replied Aladdin.

So they sat at breakfast till it was dinner-time, and Aladdin
told his mother about the lamp.  She begged him to sell it,
and have nothing to do with devils.

"No," said Aladdin, "since chance has made us aware of its virtues,
we will use it and the ring likewise, which I shall always wear
on my finger."  When they had eaten all the genie had brought,
Aladdin sold one of the silver plates, and so on till none were left.
He then had recourse to the genie, who gave him another set of plates,
and thus they lived for many years.

One day Aladdin heard an order from the Sultan proclaimed that everyone
was to stay at home and close his shutters while the princess,
his daughter, went to and from the bath.  Aladdin was seized by a desire
to see her face, which was very difficult, as she always went veiled.
He hid himself behind the door of the bath, and peeped through
a chink.  The princess lifted her veil as she went in, and looked
so beautiful that Aladdin fell in love with her at first sight.
He went home so changed that his mother was frightened.  He told her
he loved the princess so deeply that he could not live without her,
and meant to ask her in marriage of her father.  His mother,
on hearing this, burst out laughing, but Aladdin at last prevailed
upon her to go before the Sultan and carry his request.  She fetched
a napkin and laid in it the magic fruits from the enchanted garden,
which sparkled and shone like the most beautiful jewels.  She took
these with her to please the Sultan, and set out, trusting in the lamp.
The grand-vizir and the lords of council had just gone in as she
entered the hall and placed herself in front of the Sultan.
He, however, took no notice of her.  She went every day for a week,
and stood in the same place.

When the council broke up on the sixth day the Sultan said
to his vizir:  "I see a certain woman in the audience-chamber
every day carrying something in a napkin.  Call her next time,
that I may find out what she wants."

Next day, at a sign from the vizir, she went up to the foot of
the throne, and remained kneeling till the Sultan said to her:
"Rise, good woman, and tell me what you want."

She hesitated, so the Sultan sent away all but the vizir, and bade
her speak freely, promising to forgive her beforehand for anything she
might say.  She then told him of her son's violent love for the princess.

"I prayed him to forget her," she said, "but in vain; he threatened
to do some desperate deed if I refused to go and ask your Majesty
for the hand of the princess.  Now I pray you to forgive not me alone,
but my son Aladdin."

The Sultan asked her kindly what she had in the napkin, whereupon she
unfolded the jewels and presented them.

He was thunderstruck, and turning to the vizir said:  "What sayest thou?
Ought I not to bestow the princess on one who values her at such
a price?"

The vizir, who wanted her for his own son, begged the Sultan to withhold
her for three months, in the course of which he hoped his son would
contrive to make him a richer present.  The Sultan granted this,
and told Aladdin's mother that, though he consented to the marriage,
she must not appear before him again for three months.

Aladdin waited patiently for nearly three months, but after
two had elapsed his mother, going into the city to buy oil,
found everyone rejoicing, and asked what was going on.

"Do you not know," was the answer, "that the son of the grand-vizir
is to marry the Sultan's daughter to-night?"

Breathless, she ran and told Aladdin, who was overwhelmed at first,
but presently bethought him of the lamp.  He rubbed it, and the
genie appeared, saying:  "What is thy will?"

Aladdin replied:  "The Sultan, as thou knowest, has broken
his promise to me, and the vizir's son is to have the princess.
My command is that to-night you bring hither the bride and bridegroom."

"Master, I obey," said the genie.

Aladdin then went to his chamber, where, sure enough at midnight the
genie transported the bed containing the vizir's son and the princess.

"Take this new-married man," he said, "and put him outside in the cold,
and return at daybreak."

Whereupon the genie took the vizir's son out of bed, leaving Aladdin
with the princess.

"Fear nothing," Aladdin said to her; "you are my wife, promised to
me by your unjust father, and no harm shall come to you."

The princess was too frightened to speak, and passed the most miserable
night of her life, while Aladdin lay down beside her and slept soundly.
At the appointed hour the genie fetched in the shivering bridegroom,
laid him in his place, and transported the bed back to the palace.

Presently the Sultan came to wish his daughter good-morning.
The unhappy vizir's son jumped up and hid himself, while the princess
would not say a word, and was very sorrowful.

The Sultan sent her mother to her, who said:  "How comes it,
child, that you will not speak to your father?  What has happened?"

The princess sighed deeply, and at last told her mother how,
during the night, the bed had been carried into some strange house,
and what had passed there.  Her mother did not believe her in the least,
but bade her rise and consider it an idle dream.

The following night exactly the same thing happened, and next morning,
on the princess's refusing to speak, the Sultan threatened to cut
off her head.  She then confessed all, bidding him ask the vizir's
son if it were not so.  The Sultan told the vizir to ask his son,
who owned the truth, adding that, dearly as he loved the princess,
he had rather die than go through another such fearful night,
and wished to be separated from her.  His wish was granted, and there
was an end of feasting and rejoicing.

When the three months were over, Aladdin sent his mother to remind
the Sultan of his promise.  She stood in the same place as before,
and the Sultan, who had forgotten Aladdin, at once remembered him,
and sent for her.  On seeing her poverty the Sultan felt less
inclined than ever to keep his word, and asked the vizir's advice,
who counselled him to set so high a value on the princess that no man
living could come up to it.

The Sultan then turned to Aladdin's mother, saying:  "Good woman,
a Sultan must remember his promises, and I will remember mine,
but your son must first send me forty basins of gold brimful
of jewels, carried by forty black slaves, led by as many white ones,
splendidly dressed.  Tell him that I await his answer."  The mother
of Aladdin bowed low and went home, thinking all was lost.

She gave Aladdin the message, adding:  "He may wait long enough
for your answer!"

"Not so long, mother, as you think," her son replied "I would
do a great deal more than that for the princess."

He summoned the genie, and in a few moments the eighty slaves arrived,
and filled up the small house and garden.

Aladdin made them set out to the palace, two and two, followed by
his mother.  They were so richly dressed, with such splendid jewels
in their girdles, that everyone crowded to see them and the basins
of gold they carried on their heads.

They entered the palace, and, after kneeling before the Sultan,
stood in a half-circle round the throne with their arms crossed,
while Aladdin's mother presented them to the Sultan.

He hesitated no longer, but said:  "Good woman, return and tell
your son that I wait for him with open arms."

She lost no time in telling Aladdin, bidding him make haste.
But Aladdin first called the genie.

"I want a scented bath," he said, "a richly embroidered habit,
a horse surpassing the Sultan's, and twenty slaves to attend me.
Besides this, six slaves, beautifully dressed, to wait on my mother;
and lastly, ten thousand pieces of gold in ten purses."

No sooner said than done.  Aladdin mounted his horse and passed
through the streets, the slaves strewing gold as they went.
Those who had played with him in his childhood knew him not,
he had grown so handsome.

When the Sultan saw him he came down from his throne, embraced him,
and led him into a hall where a feast was spread, intending to marry
him to the princess that very day.

But Aladdin refused, saying, "I must build a palace fit for her,"
and took his leave.

Once home he said to the genie:  "Build me a palace of the
finest marble, set with jasper, agate, and other precious stones.
In the middle you shall build me a large hall with a dome, its four
walls of massy gold and silver, each side having six windows,
whose lattices, all except one, which is to be left unfinished,
must be set with diamonds and rubies.  There must be stables and
horses and grooms and slaves; go and see about it!"

The palace was finished by next day, and the genie carried him
there and showed him all his orders faithfully carried out,
even to the laying of a velvet carpet from Aladdin's palace to the
Sultan's. Aladdin's mother then dressed herself carefully, and walked
to the palace with her slaves, while he followed her on horseback.
The Sultan sent musicians with trumpets and cymbals to meet them,
so that the air resounded with music and cheers.  She was taken
to the princess, who saluted her and treated her with great honour.
At night the princess said good-bye to her father, and set out
on the carpet for Aladdin's palace, with his mother at her side,
and followed by the hundred slaves.  She was charmed at the sight
of Aladdin, who ran to receive her.

"Princess," he said, "blame your beauty for my boldness if I have
displeased you."

She told him that, having seen him, she willingly obeyed her father
in this matter.  After the wedding had taken place Aladdin led her
into the hall, where a feast was spread, and she supped with him,
after which they danced till midnight.

Next day Aladdin invited the Sultan to see the palace.  On entering
the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, with their rubies,
diamonds, and emeralds, he cried:

"It is a world's wonder!  There is only one thing that surprises me.
Was it by accident that one window was left unfinished?"

"No, sir, by design," returned Aladdin.  "I wished your Majesty
to have the glory of finishing this palace."

The Sultan was pleased, and sent for the best jewelers in the city.
He showed them the unfinished window, and bade them fit it up like
the others.

"Sir," replied their spokesman, "we cannot find jewels enough."

The Sultan had his own fetched, which they soon used, but to
no purpose, for in a month's time the work was not half done.
Aladdin, knowing that their task was vain, bade them undo their
work and carry the jewels back, and the genie finished the window
at his command.  The Sultan was surprised to receive his jewels
again and visited Aladdin, who showed him the window finished.
The Sultan embraced him, the envious vizir meanwhile hinting
that it was the work of enchantment.

Aladdin had won the hearts of the people by his gentle bearing.
He was made captain of the Sultan's armies, and won several battles
for him, but remained modest and courteous as before, and lived thus
in peace and content for several years.

But far away in Africa the magician remembered Aladdin, and by his
magic arts discovered that Aladdin, instead of perishing miserably
in the cave, had escaped, and had married a princess, with whom
he was living in great honour and wealth.  He knew that the poor
tailor's son could only have accomplished this by means of the lamp,
and travelled night and day till he reached the capital of China,
bent on Aladdin's ruin.  As he passed through the town he heard
people talking everywhere about a marvellous palace.

"Forgive my ignorance," he asked, "what is this palace you speak of?"

"Have you not heard of Prince Aladdin's palace," was the reply,
"the greatest wonder of the world?  I will direct you if you have
a mind to see it."

The magician thanked him who spoke, and having seen the palace knew
that it had been raised by the genie of the lamp, and became half
mad with rage.  He determined to get hold of the lamp, and again
plunge Aladdin into the deepest poverty.

Unluckily, Aladdin had gone a-hunting for eight days, which gave
the magician plenty of time.  He bought a dozen copper lamps, put them
into a basket, and went to the palace, crying:  "New lamps for old!"
followed by a jeering crowd.

The princess, sitting in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, sent a
slave to find out what the noise was about, who came back laughing,
so that the princess scolded her.

"Madam," replied the slave, "who can help laughing to see an old
fool offering to exchange fine new lamps for old ones?"

Another slave, hearing
this, said:  "There is an old one on the cornice there which he can have."

Now this was the magic lamp, which Aladdin had left there, as he
could not take it out hunting with him.  The princess, not knowing
its value, laughingly bade the slave take it and make the exchange.

She went and said to the magician:  "Give me a new lamp for this."

He snatched it and bade the slave take her choice, amid the jeers
of the crowd.  Little he cared, but left off crying his lamps,
and went out of the city gates to a lonely place, where he remained
till nightfall, when he pulled out the lamp and rubbed it.
The genie appeared, and at the magician's command carried him,
together with the palace and the princess in it, to a lonely place
in Africa.

Next morning the Sultan looked out of the window towards Aladdin's
palace and rubbed his eyes, for it was gone.  He sent for the vizir,
and asked what had become of the palace.  The vizir looked out too,
and was lost in astonishment.  He again put it down to enchantment,
and this time the Sultan believed him, and sent thirty men on horseback
to fetch Aladdin in chains.  They met him riding home, bound him,
and forced him to go with them on foot.  The people, however,
who loved him, followed, armed, to see that he came to no harm.
He was carried before the Sultan, who ordered the executioner
to cut off his head.  The executioner made Aladdin kneel down,
bandaged his eyes, and raised his scimitar to strike.

At that instant the vizir, who saw that the crowd had forced their
way into the courtyard and were scaling the walls to rescue Aladdin,
called to the executioner to stay his hand.  The people, indeed,
looked so threatening that the Sultan gave way and ordered Aladdin
to be unbound, and pardoned him in the sight of the crowd.

Aladdin now begged to know what he had done.

"False wretch!" said the Sultan, "come hither," and showed him
from the window the place where his palace had stood.

Aladdin was so amazed that he could not say a word.

"Where is my palace and my daughter?" demanded the Sultan.
"For the first I am not so deeply concerned, but my daughter I
must have, and you must find her or lose your head."

Aladdin begged for forty days in which to find her, promising if he
failed to return and suffer death at the Sultan's pleasure.  His prayer
was granted, and he went forth sadly from the Sultan's presence.
For three days he wandered about like a madman, asking everyone
what had become of his palace, but they only laughed and pitied him.
He came to the banks of a river, and knelt down to say his prayers
before throwing himself in.  In so doing he rubbed the magic ring he
still wore.

The genie he had seen in the cave appeared, and asked his will.

"Save my life, genie," said Aladdin, "and bring my palace back."

"That is not in my power," said the genie; "I am only the slave
of the ring; you must ask the slave of the lamp."

"Even so," said Aladdin "but thou canst take me to the palace,
and set me down under my dear wife's window."  He at once found
himself in Africa, under the window of the princess, and fell asleep
out of sheer weariness.

He was awakened by the singing of the birds, and his heart was lighter.
He saw plainly that all his misfortunes were owing to the loss
of the lamp, and vainly wondered who had robbed him of it.

That morning the princess rose earlier than she had done since she
had been carried into Africa by the magician, whose company she was
forced to endure once a day.  She, however, treated him so harshly
that he dared not live there altogether.  As she was dressing,
one of her women looked out and saw Aladdin.  The princess ran
and opened the window, and at the noise she made Aladdin looked up.
She called to him to come to her, and great was the joy of these
lovers at seeing each other again.

After he had kissed her Aladdin said:  "I beg of you, Princess,
in God's name, before we speak of anything else, for your own sake
and mine, tell me what has become of an old lamp I left on the
cornice in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, when I went a-hunting."

"Alas!" she said "I am the innocent cause of our sorrows," and told
him of the exchange of the lamp.

"Now I know," cried Aladdin, "that we have to thank the African
magician for this!  Where is the lamp?"

"He carries it about with him," said the princess, "I know, for he
pulled it out of his breast to show me.  He wishes me to break
my faith with you and marry him, saying that you were beheaded
by my father's command.  He is forever speaking ill of you,
but I only reply by my tears.  If I persist, I doubt not that he
will use violence."

Aladdin comforted her, and left her for a while.  He changed clothes
with the first person he met in the town, and having bought a certain
powder returned to the princess, who let him in by a little side door.

"Put on your most beautiful dress," he said to her, "and receive
the magician with smiles, leading him to believe that you
have forgotten me.  Invite him to sup with you, and say you
wish to taste the wine of his country.  He will go for some,
and while he is gone I will tell you what to do."

She listened carefully to Aladdin, and when he left her arrayed
herself gaily for the first time since she left China.  She put
on a girdle and head-dress of diamonds, and seeing in a glass
that she looked more beautiful than ever, received the magician,
saying to his great amazement:  "I have made up my mind that Aladdin
is dead, and that all my tears will not bring him back to me,
so I am resolved to mourn no more, and have therefore invited you
to sup with me; but I am tired of the wines of China, and would
fain taste those of Africa."

The magician flew to his cellar, and the princess put the powder
Aladdin had given her in her cup.  When he returned she asked him
to drink her health in the wine of Africa, handing him her cup
in exchange for his as a sign she was reconciled to him.

Before drinking the magician made her a speech in praise of her beauty,
but the princess cut him short saying:

"Let me drink first, and you shall say what you will afterwards."
She set her cup to her lips and kept it there, while the magician
drained his to the dregs and fell back lifeless.

The princess then opened the door to Aladdin, and flung her arms
round his neck, but Aladdin put her away, bidding her to leave him,
as he had more to do.  He then went to the dead magician, took the
lamp out of his vest, and bade the genie carry the palace and all
in it back to China.  This was done, and the princess in her chamber
only felt two little shocks, and little thought she was at home again.

The Sultan, who was sitting in his closet, mourning for his
lost daughter, happened to look up, and rubbed his eyes,
for there stood the palace as before!  He hastened thither,
and Aladdin received him in the hall of the four-and-twenty windows,
with the princess at his side.  Aladdin told him what had happened,
and showed him the dead body of the magician, that he might believe.
A ten days' feast was proclaimed, and it seemed as if Aladdin
might now live the rest of his life in peace; but it was not to be.

The African magician had a younger brother, who was, if possible,
more wicked and more cunning than himself.  He travelled to China
to avenge his brother's death, and went to visit a pious woman
called Fatima, thinking she might be of use to him.  He entered
her cell and clapped a dagger to her breast, telling her to rise
and do his bidding on pain of death.  He changed clothes with her,
coloured his face like hers, put on her veil and murdered her,
that she might tell no tales.  Then he went towards the palace
of Aladdin, and all the people thinking he was the holy woman,
gathered round him, kissing his hands and begging his blessing.
When he got to the palace there was such a noise going on round him
that the princess bade her slave look out of the window and ask what
was the matter.  The slave said it was the holy woman, curing people
by her touch of their ailments, whereupon the princess, who had long
desired to see Fatima, sent for her.  On coming to the princess
the magician offered up a prayer for her health and prosperity.
When he had done the princess made him sit by her, and begged him
to stay with her always.  The false Fatima, who wished for nothing
better, consented, but kept his veil down for fear of discovery.
The princess showed him the hall, and asked him what he thought
of it.

"It is truly beautiful," said the false Fatima.  "In my mind it
wants but one thing."

"And what is that?" said the princess.

"If only a roc's egg," replied he, "were hung up from the middle
of this dome, it would be the wonder of the world."

After this the princess could think of nothing but a roc's egg,
and when Aladdin returned from hunting he found her in a very
ill humour.  He begged to know what was amiss, and she told
him that all her pleasure in the hall was spoilt for the want
of a roc's egg hanging from the dome.

"It that is all," replied Aladdin, "you shall soon be happy."

He left her and rubbed the lamp, and when the genie appeared
commanded him to bring a roc's egg.  The genie gave such a loud
and terrible shriek that the hall shook.

"Wretch!" he cried, "is it not enough that I have done everything
for you, but you must command me to bring my master and hang him
up in the midst of this dome?  You and your wife and your palace
deserve to be burnt to ashes; but this request does not come from you,
but from the brother of the African magician whom you destroyed.
He is now in your palace disguised as the holy woman--whom he murdered.
He it was who put that wish into your wife's head.  Take care of yourself,
for he means to kill you."  So saying the genie disappeared.

Aladdin went back to the princess, saying his head ached, and requesting
that the holy Fatima should be fetched to lay her hands on it.
But when the magician came near, Aladdin, seizing his dagger,
pierced him to the heart.

"What have you done?" cried the princess.  "You have killed
the holy woman!"

"Not so," replied Aladdin, "but a wicked magician," and told her
of how she had been deceived.

After this Aladdin and his wife lived in peace.  He succeeded
the Sultan when he died, and reigned for many years, leaving behind
him a long line of kings.



The Adventures of Haroun-al-Raschid, Caliph of Bagdad


The Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid sat in his palace, wondering if there was
anything left in the world that could possibly give him a few hours'
amusement, when Giafar the grand-vizir, his old and tried friend,
suddenly appeared before him.  Bowing low, he waited, as was his duty,
till his master spoke, but Haroun-al-Raschid merely turned his
head and looked at him, and sank back into his former weary posture.

Now Giafar had something of importance to say to the Caliph,
and had no intention of being put off by mere silence, so with
another low bow in front of the throne, he began to speak.

"Commander of the Faithful," said he, "I have taken on myself to
remind your Highness that you have undertaken secretly to observe
for yourself the manner in which justice is done and order is kept
throughout the city.  This is the day you have set apart to devote
to this object, and perhaps in fulfilling this duty you may find
some distraction from the melancholy to which, as I see to my sorrow,
you are a prey."

"You are right," returned the Caliph, "I had forgotten all about it.
Go and change your coat, and I will change mine."

A few moments later they both re-entered the hall, disguised as
foreign merchants, and passed through a secret door, out into the
open country.  Here they turned towards the Euphrates, and crossing
the river in a small boat, walked through that part of the town
which lay along the further bank, without seeing anything to call
for their interference.  Much pleased with the peace and good order
of the city, the Caliph and his vizir made their way to a bridge,
which led straight back to the palace, and had already crossed it,
when they were stopped by an old and blind man, who begged for alms.

The Caliph gave him a piece of money, and was passing on,
but the blind man seized his hand, and held him fast.

"Charitable person," he said, "whoever you may be grant me yet
another prayer.  Strike me, I beg of you, one blow.  I have deserved
it richly, and even a more severe penalty."

The Caliph, much surprised at this request, replied gently:
"My good man, that which you ask is impossible.  Of what use would
my alms be if I treated you so ill?"  And as he spoke he tried
to loosen the grasp of the blind beggar.

"My lord," answered the man, "pardon my boldness and my persistence.
Take back your money, or give me the blow which I crave.
I have sworn a solemn oath that I will receive nothing without
receiving chastisement, and if you knew all, you would feel that
the punishment is not a tenth part of what I deserve."

Moved by these words, and perhaps still more by the fact that he
had other business to attend to, the Caliph yielded, and struck him
lightly on the shoulder.  Then he continued his road, followed by
the blessing of the blind man.  When they were out of earshot,
he said to the vizir, "There must be something very odd to make
that man act so--I should like to find out what is the reason.
Go back to him; tell him who I am, and order him to come without fail
to the palace to-morrow, after the hour of evening prayer."

So the grand-vizir went back to the bridge; gave the blind beggar
first a piece of money and then a blow, delivered the Caliph's message,
and rejoined his master.

They passed on towards the palace, but walking through a square,
they came upon a crowd watching a young and well-dressed man
who was urging a horse at full speed round the open space,
using at the same time his spurs and whip so unmercifully that
the animal was all covered with foam and blood.  The Caliph,
astonished at this proceeding, inquired of a passer-by what it
all meant, but no one could tell him anything, except that every
day at the same hour the same thing took place.

Still wondering, he passed on, and for the moment had to
content himself with telling the vizir to command the horseman
also to appear before him at the same time as the blind man.

The next day, after evening prayer, the Caliph entered the hall,
and was followed by the vizir bringing with him the two men of whom
we have spoken, and a third, with whom we have nothing to do.
They all bowed themselves low before the throne and then the Caliph
bade them rise, and ask the blind man his name.

"Baba-Abdalla, your Highness," said he.

"Baba-Abdalla," returned the Caliph, "your way of asking alms
yesterday seemed to me so strange, that I almost commanded you
then and there to cease from causing such a public scandal.
But I have sent for you to inquire what was your motive in making
such a curious vow.  When I know the reason I shall be able to judge
whether you can be permitted to continue to practise it, for I
cannot help thinking that it sets a very bad example to others.
Tell me therefore the whole truth, and conceal nothing."

These words troubled the heart of Baba-Abdalla, who prostrated
himself at the feet of the Caliph.  Then rising, he answered:
"Commander of the Faithful, I crave your pardon humbly,
for my persistence in beseeching your Highness to do an action
which appears on the face of it to be without any meaning.
No doubt, in the eyes of men, it has none; but I look on it as a
slight expiation for a fearful sin of which I have been guilty,
and if your Highness will deign to listen to my tale, you will
see that no punishment could atone for the crime."



Story of the Blind Baba-Abdalla


I was born, Commander of the Faithful, in Bagdad, and was left
an orphan while I was yet a very young man, for my parents died
within a few days of each other.  I had inherited from them
a small fortune, which I worked hard night and day to increase,
till at last I found myself the owner of eighty camels.  These I
hired out to travelling merchants, whom I frequently accompanied
on their various journeys, and always returned with large profits.

One day I was coming back from Balsora, whither I had taken a supply
of goods, intended for India, and halted at noon in a lonely place,
which promised rich pasture for my camels.  I was resting in the
shade under a tree, when a dervish, going on foot towards Balsora,
sat down by my side, and I inquired whence he had come and to what
place he was going.  We soon made friends, and after we had asked
each other the usual questions, we produced the food we had with us,
and satisfied our hunger.

While we were eating, the dervish happened to mention that in a spot
only a little way off from where we were sitting, there was hidden
a treasure so great that if my eighty camels were loaded till they
could carry no more, the hiding place would seem as full as if it
had never been touched.

At this news I became almost beside myself with joy and greed, and I
flung my arms round the neck of the dervish, exclaiming:  "Good dervish,
I see plainly that the riches of this world are nothing to you,
therefore of what use is the knowledge of this treasure to you?
Alone and on foot, you could carry away a mere handful.  But tell me
where it is, and I will load my eighty camels with it, and give you
one of them as a token of my gratitude."

Certainly my offer does not sound very magnificent, but it was
great to me, for at his words a wave of covetousness had swept
over my heart, and I almost felt as if the seventy-nine camels
that were left were nothing in comparison.

The dervish saw quite well what was passing in my mind, but he did
not show what he thought of my proposal.

"My brother," he answered quietly, "you know as well as I do,
that you are behaving unjustly.  It was open to me to keep my secret,
and to reserve the treasure for myself.  But the fact that I have
told you of its existence shows that I had confidence in you,
and that I hoped to earn your gratitude for ever, by making your
fortune as well as mine.  But before I reveal to you the secret
of the treasure, you must swear that, after we have loaded the
camels with as much as they can carry, you will give half to me,
and let us go our own ways.  I think you will see that this is fair,
for if you present me with forty camels, I on my side will give you
the means of buying a thousand more."

I could not of course deny that what the dervish said was perfectly
reasonable, but, in spite of that, the thought that the dervish
would be as rich as I was unbearable to me.  Still there was no
use in discussing the matter, and I had to accept his conditions
or bewail to the end of my life the loss of immense wealth.
So I collected my camels and we set out together under the guidance
of the dervish.  After walking some time, we reached what looked
like a valley, but with such a narrow entrance that my camels could
only pass one by one.  The little valley, or open space, was shut
up by two mountains, whose sides were formed of straight cliffs,
which no human being could climb.

When we were exactly between these mountains the dervish stopped.

"Make your camels lie down in this open space," he said, "so that we
can easily load them; then we will go to the treasure."

I did what I was bid, and rejoined the dervish, whom I found trying
to kindle a fire out of some dry wood.  As soon as it was alight,
he threw on it a handful of perfumes, and pronounced a few words
that I did not understand, and immediately a thick column of smoke
rose high into the air.  He separated the smoke into two columns,
and then I saw a rock, which stood like a pillar between the
two mountains, slowly open, and a splendid palace appear within.

But, Commander of the Faithful, the love of gold had taken such
possession of my heart, that I could not even stop to examine
the riches, but fell upon the first pile of gold within my reach
and began to heap it into a sack that I had brought with me.

The dervish likewise set to work, but I soon noticed that he
confined himself to collecting precious stones, and I felt I
should be wise to follow his example.  At length the camels
were loaded with as much as they could carry, and nothing
remained but to seal up the treasure, and go our ways.

Before, however, this was done, the dervish went up to a great
golden vase, beautifully chased, and took from it a small wooden box,
which he hid in the bosom of his dress, merely saying that it
contained a special kind of ointment.  Then he once more kindled
the fire, threw on the perfume, and murmured the unknown spell,
and the rock closed, and stood whole as before.

The next thing was to divide the camels, and to charge them with
the treasure, after which we each took command of our own and marched
out of the valley, till we reached the place in the high road
where the routes diverge, and then we parted, the dervish going
towards Balsora, and I to Bagdad.  We embraced each other tenderly,
and I poured out my gratitude for the honour he had done me,
in singling me out for this great wealth, and having said a hearty
farewell we turned our backs, and hastened after our camels.

I had hardly come up with mine when the demon of envy filled my soul.
"What does a dervish want with riches like that?"  I said to myself.
"He alone has the secret of the treasure, and can always get as much
as he wants," and I halted my camels by the roadside, and ran back
after him.

I was a quick runner, and it did not take me very long to come up
with him.  "My brother," I exclaimed, as soon as I could speak,
"almost at the moment of our leave-taking, a reflection occurred
to me, which is perhaps new to you.  You are a dervish by profession,
and live a very quiet life, only caring to do good, and careless
of the things of this world.  You do not realise the burden that you
lay upon yourself, when you gather into your hands such great wealth,
besides the fact that no one, who is not accustomed to camels from
his birth, can ever manage the stubborn beasts.  If you are wise,
you will not encumber yourself with more than thirty, and you will find
those trouble enough."

"You are right," replied the dervish, who understood me quite well,
but did not wish to fight the matter.  "I confess I had not thought
about it.  Choose any ten you like, and drive them before you."

I selected ten of the best camels, and we proceeded along the road,
to rejoin those I had left behind.  I had got what I wanted, but I
had found the dervish so easy to deal with, that I rather regretted
I had not asked for ten more.  I looked back.  He had only gone
a few paces, and I called after him.

"My brother," I said, "I am unwilling to part from you without
pointing out what I think you scarcely grasp, that large experience
of camel-driving is necessary to anybody who intends to keep
together a troop of thirty.  In your own interest, I feel sure you
would be much happier if you entrusted ten more of them to me,
for with my practice it is all one to me if I take two or a hundred."

As before, the dervish made no difficulties, and I drove off my ten
camels in triumph, only leaving him with twenty for his share.
I had now sixty, and anyone might have imagined that I should
be content.

But, Commander of the Faithful, there is a proverb that says,
"the more one has, the more one wants."  So it was with me.
I could not rest as long as one solitary camel remained to the dervish;
and returning to him I redoubled my prayers and embraces, and promises
of eternal gratitude, till the last twenty were in my hands.

"Make a good use of them, my brother," said the holy man.
"Remember riches sometimes have wings if we keep them for ourselves,
and the poor are at our gates expressly that we may help them."

My eyes were so blinded by gold, that I paid no heed to his wise counsel,
and only looked about for something else to grasp.  Suddenly I
remembered the little box of ointment that the dervish had hidden,
and which most likely contained a treasure more precious than all
the rest.  Giving him one last embrace, I observed accidentally,
"What are you going to do with that little box of ointment?  It seems
hardly worth taking with you; you might as well let me have it.
And really, a dervish who has given up the world has no need
of ointment!"

Oh, if he had only refused my request!  But then, supposing he had,
I should have got possession of it by force, so great was the
madness that had laid hold upon me.  However, far from refusing it,
the dervish at once held it out, saying gracefully, "Take it,
my friend, and if there is anything else I can do to make you happy
you must let me know."

Directly the box was in my hands I wrenched off the cover.
"As you are so kind," I said, "tell me, I pray you, what are the
virtues of this ointment?"

"They are most curious and interesting," replied the dervish.
"If you apply a little of it to your left eye you will behold
in an instant all the treasures hidden in the bowels of the earth.
But beware lest you touch your right eye with it, or your sight will
be destroyed for ever."

His words excited my curiosity to the highest pitch.  "Make trial
on me, I implore you," I cried, holding out the box to the dervish.
"You will know how to do it better than I!  I am burning with
impatience to test its charms."

The dervish took the box I had extended to him, and, bidding me
shut my left eye, touched it gently with the ointment.  When I
opened it again I saw spread out, as it were before me, treasures of
every kind and without number.  But as all this time I had been
obliged to keep my right eye closed, which was very fatiguing,
I begged the dervish to apply the ointment to that eye also.

"If you insist upon it I will do it," answered the dervish,
"but you must remember what I told you just now--that if it touches
your right eye you will become blind on the spot."

Unluckily, in spite of my having proved the truth of the dervish's words
in so many instances, I was firmly convinced that he was now keeping
concealed from me some hidden and precious virtue of the ointment.
So I turned a deaf ear to all he said.

"My brother," I replied smiling, "I see you are joking.  It is
not natural that the same ointment should have two such exactly
opposite effects."

"It is true all the same," answered the dervish, "and it would
be well for you if you believed my word."

But I would not believe, and, dazzled by the greed of avarice,
I thought that if one eye could show me riches, the other might
teach me how to get possession of them.  And I continued to press
the dervish to anoint my right eye, but this he resolutely declined
to do.

"After having conferred such benefits on you," said he, "I am
loth indeed to work you such evil.  Think what it is to be blind,
and do not force me to do what you will repent as long as you live."

It was of no use.  "My brother," I said firmly, "pray say no more,
but do what I ask.  You have most generously responded to my wishes
up to this time, da not spoil my recollection of you for a thing
of such little consequence.  Let what will happen I take it on my
own head, and will never reproach you."

"Since you are determined upon it," he answered with a sigh,
"there is no use talking," and taking the ointment he laid some
on my right eye, which was tight shut.  When I tried to open it
heavy clouds of darkness floated before me.  I was as blind as you
see me now!

"Miserable dervish!"  I shrieked, "so it is true after all!
Into what a bottomless pit has my lust after gold plunged me.
Ah, now that my eyes are closed they are really opened.  I know that
all my sufferings are caused by myself alone!  But, good brother,
you, who are so kind and charitable, and know the secrets of such
vast learning, have you nothing that will give me back my sight?"

"Unhappy man," replied the dervish, "it is not my fault that this has
befallen you, but it is a just chastisement.  The blindness of your
heart has wrought the blindness of your body.  Yes, I have secrets;
that you have seen in the short time that we have known each other.
But I have none that will give you back your sight.  You have proved
yourself unworthy of the riches that were given you.  Now they have
passed into my hands, whence they will flow into the hands of others
less greedy and ungrateful than you."

The dervish said no more and left me, speechless with shame
and confusion, and so wretched that I stood rooted to the spot,
while he collected the eighty camels and proceeded on his way
to Balsora.  It was in vain that I entreated him not to leave me,
but at least to take me within reach of the first passing caravan.
He was deaf to my prayers and cries, and I should soon have been dead
of hunger and misery if some merchants had not come along the track
the following day and kindly brought me back to Bagdad.

From a rich man I had in one moment become a beggar; and up to this
time I have lived solely on the alms that have been bestowed on me.
But, in order to expiate the sin of avarice, which was my undoing,
I oblige each passer-by to give me a blow.

This, Commander of the Faithful, is my story.

When the blind man had ended the Caliph addressed him:
"Baba-Abdalla, truly your sin is great, but you have suffered enough.
Henceforth repent in private, for I will see that enough money
is given you day by day for all your wants."

At these words Baba-Abdalla flung himself at the Caliph's feet,
and prayed that honour and happiness might be his portion for ever.



The Story of Sidi-Nouman


The Caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, was much pleased with the tale of
the blind man and the dervish, and when it was finished he turned
to the young man who had ill-treated his horse, and inquired
his name also.  The young man replied that he was called Sidi-Nouman.

"Sidi-Nouman," observed the Caliph, "I have seen horses broken all my
life long, and have even broken them myself, but I have never seen
any horse broken in such a barbarous manner as by you yesterday.
Every one who looked on was indignant, and blamed you loudly.
As for myself, I was so angry that I was very nearly disclosing
who I was, and putting a stop to it at once.  Still, you have not
the air of a cruel man, and I would gladly believe that you did not
act in this way without some reason.  As I am told that it was not
the first time, and indeed that every day you are to be seen flogging
and spurring your horse, I wish to come to the bottom of the matter.
But tell me the whole truth, and conceal nothing."

Sidi-Nouman changed colour as he heard these words, and his manner
grew confused; but he saw plainly that there was no help for it.
So he prostrated himself before the throne of the Caliph and tried
to obey, but the words stuck in his throat, and he remained silent.

The Caliph, accustomed though he was to instant obedience,
guessed something of what was passing in the young man's mind,
and sought to put him at his ease.  "Sidi-Nouman," he said,
"do not think of me as the Caliph, but merely as a friend who would
like to hear your story.  If there is anything in it that you are
afraid may offend me, take courage, for I pardon you beforehand.
Speak then openly and without fear, as to one who knows and loves you."

Reassured by the kindness of the Caliph, Sidi-Nouman at length
began his tale.

"Commander of the Faithful," said he, "dazzled though I am
by the lustre of your Highness' presence, I will do my best
to satisfy your wishes.  I am by no means perfect, but I am not
naturally cruel, neither do I take pleasure in breaking the law.
I admit that the treatment of my horse is calculated to give your
Highness a bad opinion of me, and to set an evil example to others;
yet I have not chastised it without reason, and I have hopes
that I shall be judged more worthy of pity than punishment."

Commander of the Faithful, I will not trouble to describe my birth;
it is not of sufficient distinction to deserve your Highness'
attention.  My ancestors were careful people, and I inherited
enough money to enable me to live comfortably, though without show.

Having therefore a modest fortune, the only thing wanting to my
happiness was a wife who could return my affection, but this blessing
I was not destined to get; for on the very day after my marriage,
my bride began to try my patience in every way that was most hard
to bear.

Now, seeing that the customs of our land oblige us to marry without
ever beholding the person with whom we are to pass our lives,
a man has of course no right to complain as long as his wife
is not absolutely repulsive, or is not positively deformed.
And whatever defects her body may have, pleasant ways and good
behaviour will go far to remedy them.

The first time I saw my wife unveiled, when she had been brought
to my house with the usual ceremonies, I was enchanted to find
that I had not been deceived in regard to the account that had been
given me of her beauty.  I began my married life in high spirits,
and the best hopes of happiness.

The following day a grand dinner was served to us but as my wife did
not appear, I ordered a servant to call her.  Still she did not come,
and I waited impatiently for some time.  At last she entered the room,
and she took our places at the table, and plates of rice were set
before us.

I ate mine, as was natural, with a spoon, but great was my surprise
to notice that my wife, instead of doing the same, drew from her
pocket a little case, from which she selected a long pin, and by
the help of this pin conveyed her rice grain by grain to her mouth.

"Amina," I exclaimed in astonishment, "is that the way you eat rice
at home?  And did you do it because your appetite was so small,
or did you wish to count the grains so that you might never eat
more than a certain number?  If it was from economy, and you are
anxious to teach me not to be wasteful, you have no cause for alarm.
We shall never ruin ourselves in that way!  Our fortune is large
enough for all our needs, therefore, dear Amina, do not seek to
check yourself, but eat as much as you desire, as I do!"

In reply to my affectionate words, I expected a cheerful answer;
yet Amina said nothing at all, but continued to pick her rice
as before, only at longer and longer intervals.  And, instead of
trying the other dishes, all she did was to put every now and then
a crumb, of bread into her mouth, that would not have made a meal
for a sparrow.

I felt provoked by her obstinacy, but to excuse her to myself
as far as I could, I suggested that perhaps she had never been
used to eat in the company of men, and that her family might have
taught her that she ought to behave prudently and discreetly
in the presence of her husband.  Likewise that she might either
have dined already or intend to do so in her own apartments.
So I took no further notice, and when I had finished left the room,
secretly much vexed at her strange conduct.

The same thing occurred at supper, and all through the next day,
whenever we ate together.  It was quite clear that no woman could
live upon two or three bread-crumbs and a few grains of rice,
and I determined to find out how and when she got food.  I pretended
not to pay attention to anything she did, in the hope that little
by little she would get accustomed to me, and become more friendly;
but I soon saw that my expectations were quite vain.

One night I was lying with my eyes closed, and to, all appearance
sound asleep, when Amina arose softly, and dressed herself without
making the slightest sound.  I could not imagine what she was going
to do, and as my curiosity was great I made up my mind to follow her.
When she was fully dressed, she stole quietly from the room.

The instant she had let the curtain fall behind her, I flung
a garment on my shoulders and a pair of slippers on my feet.
Looking from a lattice which opened into the court, I saw her in
the act of passing through the street door, which she carefully
left open.

It was bright moonlight, so I easily managed to keep her in sight,
till she entered a cemetery not far from the house.  There I hid
myself under the shadow of the wall, and crouched down cautiously;
and hardly was I concealed, when I saw my wife approaching in company
with a ghoul--one of those demons which, as your Highness is aware,
wander about the country making their lairs in deserted buildings
and springing out upon unwary travellers whose flesh they eat.
If no live being goes their way, they then betake themselves to
the cemeteries, and feed upon the dead bodies.

I was nearly struck dumb with horror on seeing my wife with this
hideous female ghoul.  They passed by me without noticing me,
began to dig up a corpse which had been buried that day, and then
sat down on the edge of the grave, to enjoy their frightful repast,
talking quietly and cheerfully all the while, though I was too far
off to hear what they said.  When they had finished, they threw
back the body into the grave, and heaped back the earth upon it.
I made no effort to disturb them, and returned quickly to the house,
when I took care to leave the door open, as I had previously found it.
Then I got back into bed, and pretended to sleep soundly.

A short time after Amina entered as quietly as she had gone out.
She undressed and stole into bed, congratulating herself apparently
on the cleverness with which she had managed her expedition.

As may be guessed, after such a scene it was long before I could
close my eyes, and at the first sound which called the faithful
to prayer, I put on my clothes and went to the mosque.  But even
prayer did not restore peace to my troubled spirit, and I could
not face my wife until I had made up my mind what future course
I should pursue in regard to her.  I therefore spent the morning
roaming about from one garden to another, turning over various
plans for compelling my wife to give up her horrible ways;
I thought of using violence to make her submit, but felt reluctant
to be unkind to her.  Besides, I had an instinct that gentle
means had the best chance of success; so, a little soothed,
I turned towards home, which I reached about the hour of dinner.

As soon as I appeared, Amina ordered dinner to be served, and we
sat down together.  As usual, she persisted in only picking a few
grains of rice, and I resolved to speak to her at once of what lay
so heavily on my heart.

"Amina," I said, as quietly as possible, "you must have guessed
the surprise I felt, when the day after our marriage you declined
to eat anything but a few morsels of rice, and altogether behaved
in such a manner that most husbands would have been deeply wounded.
However I had patience with you, and only tried to tempt your appetite
by the choicest dishes I could invent, but all to no purpose.
Still, Amina, it seems to me that there be some among them as sweet
to the taste as the flesh of a corpse?"

I had no sooner uttered these words than Amina, who instantly
understood that I had followed her to the grave-yard, was seized
with a passion beyond any that I have ever witnessed.  Her face
became purple, her eyes looked as if they would start from her head,
and she positively foamed with rage.

I watched her with terror, wondering what would happen next,
but little thinking what would be the end of her fury.  She seized
a vessel of water that stood at hand, and plunging her hand in it,
murmured some words I failed to catch.  Then, sprinkling it on my face,
she cried madly:

"Wretch, receive the reward of your prying, and become a dog."

The words were not out of her mouth when, without feeling conscious
that any change was passing over me, I suddenly knew that I had ceased
to be a man.  In the greatness of the shock and surprise--for I had
no idea that Amina was a magician--I never dreamed of running away,
and stood rooted to the spot, while Amina grasped a stick and began
to beat me.  Indeed her blows were so heavy, that I only wonder they
did not kill me at once.  However they succeeded in rousing me from
my stupor, and I dashed into the court-yard, followed closely by Amina,
who made frantic dives at me, which I was not quick enough to dodge.
At last she got tired of pursuing me, or else a new trick entered
into her head, which would give me speedy and painful death;
she opened the gate leading into the street, intending to crush me
as I passed through.  Dog though I was, I saw through her design,
and stung into presence of mind by the greatness of the danger,
I timed my movements so well that I contrived to rush through,
and only the tip of my tail received a squeeze as she banged
the gate.

I was safe, but my tail hurt me horribly, and I yelped and howled so
loud all along the streets, that the other dogs came and attacked me,
which made matters no better.  In order to avoid them, I took
refuge in a cookshop, where tongues and sheep's heads were sold.

At first the owner showed me great kindness, and drove away
the other dogs that were still at my heels, while I crept into
the darkest corner.  But though I was safe for the moment,
I was not destined to remain long under his protection, for he
was one of those who hold all dogs to be unclean, and that all the
washing in the world will hardly purify you from their contact.
So after my enemies had gone to seek other prey, he tried to
lure me from my corner in order to force me into the street.
But I refused to come out of my hole, and spent the night in sleep,
which I sorely needed, after the pain inflicted on me by Amina.

I have no wish to weary your Highness by dwelling on the sad thoughts
which accompanied my change of shape, but it may interest you to hear
that the next morning my host went out early to do his marketing,
and returned laden with the sheep's heads, and tongues and trotters
that formed his stock in trade for the day.  The smell of meat
attracted various hungry dogs in the neighbourhood, and they gathered
round the door begging for some bits.  I stole out of my corner,
and stood with them.

In spite of his objection to dogs, as unclean animals, my protector
was a kind-hearted man, and knowing I had eaten nothing since yesterday,
he threw me bigger and better bits than those which fell to the
share of the other dogs.  When I had finished, I tried to go back
into the shop, but this he would not allow, and stood so firmly at
the entrance with a stout stick, that I was forced to give it up,
and seek some other home.

A few paces further on was a baker's shop, which seemed to have
a gay and merry man for a master.  At that moment he was having
his breakfast, and though I gave no signs of hunger, he at once
threw me a piece of bread.  Before gobbling it up, as most dogs
are in the habit of doing, I bowed my head and wagged my tail,
in token of thanks, and he understood, and smiled pleasantly.
I really did not want the bread at all, but felt it would be
ungracious to refuse, so I ate it slowly, in order that he might see
that I only did it out of politeness.  He understood this also,
and seemed quite willing to let me stay in his shop, so I sat down,
with my face to the door, to show that I only asked his protection.
This he gave me, and indeed encouraged me to come into the
house itself, giving me a corner where I might sleep, without being
in anybody's way.

The kindness heaped on me by this excellent man was far greater
than I could ever have expected.  He was always affectionate
in his manner of treating me, and I shared his breakfast,
dinner and supper, while, on my side, I gave him all the gratitude
and attachment to which he had a right.

I sat with my eyes fixed on him, and he never left the house
without having me at his heels; and if it ever happened that when
he was preparing to go out I was asleep, and did not notice,
he would call "Rufus, Rufus," for that was the name he gave me.

Some weeks passed in this way, when one day a woman came in to buy bread.
In paying for it, she laid down several pieces of money, one of
which was bad.  The baker perceived this, and declined to take it,
demanding another in its place.  The woman, for her part, refused to
take it back, declaring it was perfectly good, but the baker would
have nothing to do with it.  "It is really such a bad imitation,"
he exclaimed at last, "that even my dog would not be taken in.
Here Rufus!  Rufus!" and hearing his voice, I jumped on to the counter.
The baker threw down the money before me, and said, "Find out
if there is a bad coin."  I looked at each in turn, and then laid
my paw on the false one, glancing at the same time at my master,
so as to point it out.

The baker, who had of course been only in joke, was exceedingly
surprised at my cleverness, and the woman, who was at last convinced
that the man spoke the truth, produced another piece of money
in its place.  When she had gone, my master was so pleased that he
told all the neighbours what I had done, and made a great deal
more of it than there really was.

The neighbours, very naturally, declined to believe his story,
and tried me several times with all the bad money they could
collect together, but I never failed to stand the test triumphantly.

Soon, the shop was filled from morning till night, with people
who on the pretence of buying bread came to see if I was as clever
as I was reported to be.  The baker drove a roaring trade,
and admitted that I was worth my weight in gold to him.

Of course there were plenty who envied him his large custom,
and many was the pitfall set for me, so that he never dared to let
me out of his sight.  One day a woman, who had not been in the
shop before, came to ask for bread, like the rest.  As usual,
I was lying on the counter, and she threw down six coins before me,
one of which was false.  I detected it at once, and put my paw on it,
looking as I did so at the woman.  "Yes," she said, nodding her head.
"You are quite right, that is the one."  She stood gazing at me
attentively for some time, then paid for the bread, and left the shop,
making a sign for me to follow her secretly.

Now my thoughts were always running on some means of shaking off
the spell laid on me, and noticing the way in which this woman
had looked at me, the idea entered my head that perhaps she might
have guessed what had happened, and in this I was not deceived.
However I let her go on a little way, and merely stood at the door
watching her.  She turned, and seeing that I was quite still,
she again beckoned to me.

The baker all this while was busy with his oven, and had forgotten
all about me, so I stole out softly, and ran after the woman.

When we came to her house, which was some distance off, she opened
the door and then said to me, "Come in, come in; you will never be
sorry that you followed me."  When I had entered she fastened the door,
and took me into a large room, where a beautiful girl was working
at a piece of embroidery.  "My daughter," exclaimed my guide,
"I have brought you the famous dog belonging to the baker which can
tell good money from bad.  You know that when I first heard of him,
I told you I was sure he must be really a man, changed into a dog
by magic.  To-day I went to the baker's, to prove for myself
the truth of the story, and persuaded the dog to follow me here.
Now what do you say?"

"You are right, mother," replied the girl, and rising she dipped her
hand into a vessel of water.  Then sprinkling it over me she said,
"If you were born dog, remain dog; but if you were born man,
by virtue of this water resume your proper form."  In one moment the
spell was broken.  The dog's shape vanished as if it had never been,
and it was a man who stood before her.

Overcome with gratitude at my deliverance, I flung myself at
her feet, and kissed the hem of her garment.  "How can I thank you
for your goodness towards a stranger, and for what you have done?
Henceforth I am your slave.  Deal with me as you will!"

Then, in order to explain how I came to be changed into a dog,
I told her my whole story, and finished with rendering the mother
the thanks due to her for the happiness she had brought me.

"Sidi-Nouman," returned the daughter, "say no more about the
obligation you are under to us.  The knowledge that we have been
of service to you is ample payment.  Let us speak of Amina, your wife,
with whom I was acquainted before her marriage.  I was aware that she
was a magician, and she knew too that I had studied the same art,
under the same mistress.  We met often going to the same baths,
but we did not like each other, and never sought to become friends.
As to what concerns you, it is not enough to have broken your spell,
she must be punished for her wickedness.  Remain for a moment with
my mother, I beg," she added hastily, "I will return shortly."

Left alone with the mother, I again expressed the gratitude I felt,
to her as well as to her daughter.

"My daughter," she answered, "is, as you see, as accomplished a magician
as Amina herself, but you would be astonished at the amount of good
she does by her knowledge.  That is why I have never interfered,
otherwise I should have put a stop to it long ago."  As she spoke,
her daughter entered with a small bottle in her hand.

"Sidi-Nouman," she said, "the books I have just consulted tell
me that Amina is not home at present, but she should return at
any moment.  I have likewise found out by their means, that she
pretends before the servants great uneasiness as to your absence.
She has circulated a story that, while at dinner with her,
you remembered some important business that had to be done at once,
and left the house without shutting the door.  By this means a dog
had strayed in, which she was forced to get rid of by a stick.
Go home then without delay, and await Amina's return in your room.
When she comes in, go down to meet her, and in her surprise, she will
try to run away.  Then have this bottle ready, and dash the water it
contains over her, saying boldly, "Receive the reward of your crimes."
That is all I have to tell you."

Everything happened exactly as the young magician had foretold.
I had not been in my house many minutes before Amina returned, and as
she approached I stepped in front of her, with the water in my hand.
She gave one loud cry, and turned to the door, but she was too late.
I had already dashed the water in her face and spoken the magic words.
Amina disappeared, and in her place stood the horse you saw me
beating yesterday.

This, Commander of the Faithful, is my story, and may I venture
to hope that, now you have heard the reason of my conduct,
your Highness will not think this wicked woman too harshly treated?

"Sidi-Nouman," replied the Caliph, "your story is indeed a strange one,
and there is no excuse to be offered for your wife.  But, without
condemning your treatment of her, I wish you to reflect how much
she must suffer from being changed into an animal, and I hope you
will let that punishment be enough.  I do not order you to insist
upon the young magician finding the means to restore your wife to her
human shape, because I know that when once women such as she begin
to work evil they never leave off, and I should only bring down on
your head a vengeance far worse than the one you have undergone already."



Story of Ali Colia, Merchant of Bagdad


In the reign of Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived in Bagdad a
merchant named Ali Cogia, who, having neither wife nor child,
contented himself with the modest profits produced by his trade.
He had spent some years quite happily in the house his father had
left him, when three nights running he dreamed that an old man had
appeared to him, and reproached him for having neglected the duty
of a good Mussulman, in delaying so long his pilgrimage to Mecca.

Ali Cogia was much troubled by this dream, as he was unwilling
to give up his shop, and lose all his customers.  He had shut his
eyes for some time to the necessity of performing this pilgrimage,
and tried to atone to his conscience by an extra number of good works,
but the dream seemed to him a direct warning, and he resolved to put
the journey off no longer.

The first thing he did was to sell his furniture and the wares
he had in his shop, only reserving to himself such goods as he
might trade with on the road.  The shop itself he sold also,
and easily found a tenant for his private house.  The only matter he
could not settle satisfactorily was the safe custody of a thousand
pieces of gold which he wished to leave behind him.

After some thought, Ali Cogia hit upon a plan which seemed a safe one.
He took a large vase, and placing the money in the bottom of it,
filled up the rest with olives.  After corking the vase tightly down,
he carried it to one of his friends, a merchant like himself,
and said to him:

"My brother, you have probably heard that I am staffing with a caravan
in a few days for Mecca.  I have come to ask whether you would
do me the favour to keep this vase of olives for me till I come back?"

The merchant replied readily, "Look, this is the key of my shop:
take it, and put the vase wherever you like.  I promise that you shall
find it in the same place on your return."

A few days later, Ali Cogia mounted the camel that he had laden
with merchandise, joined the caravan, and arrived in due time
at Mecca.  Like the other pilgrims he visited the sacred Mosque,
and after all his religious duties were performed, he set out his
goods to the best advantage, hoping to gain some customers among
the passers-by.

Very soon two merchants stopped before the pile, and when they
had turned it over, one said to the other:

"If this man was wise he would take these things to Cairo, where he
would get a much better price than he is likely to do here."

Ali Cogia heard the words, and lost no time in following the advice.
He packed up his wares, and instead of returning to Bagdad,
joined a caravan that was going to Cairo.  The results of the journey
gladdened his heart.  He sold off everything almost directly,
and bought a stock of Egyptian curiosities, which he intended selling
at Damascus; but as the caravan with which he would have to travel
would not be starting for another six weeks, he took advantage
of the delay to visit the Pyramids, and some of the cities along
the banks of the Nile.

Now the attractions of Damascus so fascinated the worthy Ali,
that he could hardly tear himself away, but at length he remembered
that he had a home in Bagdad, meaning to return by way of Aleppo,
and after he had crossed the Euphrates, to follow the course of
the Tigris.

But when he reached Mossoul, Ali had made such friends with some
Persian merchants, that they persuaded him to accompany them
to their native land, and even as far as India, and so it came
to pass that seven years had slipped by since he had left Bagdad,
and during all that time the friend with whom he had left the vase
of olives had never once thought of him or of it.  In fact,
it was only a month before Ali Cogia's actual return that the affair
came into his head at all, owing to his wife's remarking one day,
that it was a long time since she had eaten any olives, and would
like some.

"That reminds me," said the husband, "that before Ali Cogia went
to Mecca seven years ago, he left a vase of olives in my care.
But really by this time he must be dead, and there is no reason we
should not eat the olives if we like.  Give me a light, and I will
fetch them and see how they taste."

"My husband," answered the wife, "beware, I pray, of your doing
anything so base!  Supposing seven years have passed without news
of Ali Cogia, he need not be dead for all that, and may come back
any day.  How shameful it would be to have to confess that you
had betrayed your trust and broken the seal of the vase!  Pay no
attention to my idle words, I really have no desire for olives now.
And probably after all this while they are no longer good.
I have a presentiment that Ali Cogia will return, and what will he
think of you?  Give it up, I entreat."

The merchant, however, refused to listen to her advice, sensible
though it was.  He took a light and a dish and went into his shop.

"If you will be so obstinate," said his wife, "I cannot help it;
but do not blame me if it turns out ill."

When the merchant opened the vase he found the topmost olives
were rotten, and in order to see if the under ones were in better
condition he shook some ont into the dish.  As they fell out a few
of the gold pieces fell out too.

The sight of the money roused all the merchant's greed.  He looked
into the vase, and saw that all the bottom was filled with gold.
He then replaced the olives and returned to his wife.

"My wife," he said, as he entered the room, "you were quite right;
the olives are rotten, and I have recorked the vase so well that Ali
Cogia will never know it has been touched."

"You would have done better to believe me," replied the wife.
"I trust that no harm will come of it."

These words made no more impression on the merchant than the others
had done; and he spent the whole night in wondering how he could manage
to keep the gold if Ali Cogia should come back and claim his vase.
Very early next morning he went out and bought fresh new olives;
he then threw away the old ones, took out the gold and hid it,
and filled up the vase with the olives he had bought.  This done he
recorked the vase and put it in the same place where it had been left
by Ali Cogia.

A month later Ali Cogia re-entered Bagdad, and as his house was
still let he went to an inn; and the following day set out to see
his friend the merchant, who received him with open arms and many
expressions of surprise.  After a few moments given to inquiries
Ali Cogia begged the merchant to hand him over the vase that he
had taken care of for so long.

"Oh certainly," said he, "I am only glad I could be of use to you
in the matter.  Here is the key of my shop; you will find the vase
in the place where you put it."

Ali Cogia fetched his vase and carried it to his room at the inn,
where he opened it.  He thrust down his hand but could feel no money,
but still was persuaded it must be there.  So he got some plates
and vessels from his travelling kit and emptied ont the olives.
To no purpose.  The gold was not there.  The poor man was dumb
with horror, then, lifting up his hands, he exclaimed, "Can my old
friend really have committed such a crime?"

In great haste he went back to the house of the merchant.  "My friend,"
he cried, "you will be astonished to see me again, but I can find
nowhere in this vase a thousand pieces of gold that I placed in the
bottom under the olives.  Perhaps you may have taken a loan of them
for your business purposes; if that is so you are most welcome.
I will only ask you to give me a receipt, and you can pay the money
at your leisure."

The merchant, who had expected something of the sort, had his reply
all ready.  "Ali Cogia," he said, "when you brought me the vase
of olives did I ever touch it?"

"I gave you the key of my shop and you put it yourself where you liked,
and did you not find it in exactly the same spot and in the
same state?  If you placed any gold in it, it must be there still.
I know nothing about that; you only told me there were olives.
You can believe me or not, but I have not laid a finger on the vase."

Ali Cogia still tried every means to persuade the merchant to admit
the truth.  "I love peace," he said, "and shall deeply regret having
to resort to harsh measures.  Once more, think of your reputation.
I shall be in despair if you oblige me to call in the aid of the law."

"Ali Cogia," answered the merchant, "you allow that it was a vase
of olives you placed in my charge.  You fetched it and removed
it yourself, and now you tell me it contained a thousand pieces
of gold, and that I must restore them to you!  Did you ever say
anything about them before?  Why, I did not even know that the
vase had olives in it!  Yon never showed them to me.  I wonder
you have not demanded pearls or diamonds.  Retire, I pray you,
lest a crowd should gather in front of my shop."

By this time not only the casual passers-by, but also the
neighbouring merchants, were standing round, listening to the dispute,
and trying every now and then to smooth matters between them.
But at the merchant's last words Ali Cogia resolved to lay the
cause of the quarrel before them, and told them the whole story.
They heard him to the end, and inquired of the merchant what he
had to say.

The accused man admitted that he had kept Ali Cogia's vase in his shop;
but he denied having touched it, and swore that as to what it
contained he only knew what Ali Cogia had told him, and called
them all to witness the insult that had been put upon him.

"You have brought it on yourself," said Ali Cogia, taking him
by the arm, "and as you appeal to the law, the law you shall have!
Let us see if you will dare to repeat your story before the Cadi."

Now as a good Mussulman the merchant was forbidden to refuse this
choice of a judge, so he accepted the test, and said to Ali Cogia,
"Very well; I should like nothing better.  We shall soon see which
of us is in the right."

So the two men presented themselves before the Cadi, and Ali Cogia
again repeated his tale.  The Cadi asked what witnesses he had.
Ali Cogia replied that he had not taken this precaution, as he had
considered the man his friend, and up to that time had always found
him honest.

The merchant, on his side, stuck to his story, and offered to swear
solemnly that not only had he never stolen the thousand gold pieces,
but that he did not even know they were there.  The Cadi allowed him
to take the oath, and pronounced him innocent.

Ali Cogia, furious at having to suffer such a loss, protested against
the verdict, declaring that he would appeal to the Caliph,
Haroun-al-Raschid, himself.  But the Cadi paid no attention
to his threats, and was quite satisfied that he had done what was right.

Judgment being given the merchant returned home triumphant, and Ali
Cogia went back to his inn to draw up a petition to the Caliph.
The next morning he placed himself on the road along which the Caliph
must pass after mid-day prayer, and stretched out his petition to the
officer who walked before the Caliph, whose duty it was to collect
such things, and on entering the palace to hand them to his master.
There Haroun-al-Raschid studied them carefully.

Knowing this custom, Ali Cogia followed the Caliph into the public
hall of the palace, and waited the result.  After some time the
officer appeared, and told him that the Caliph had read his petition,
and had appointed an hour the next morning to give him audience.
He then inquired the merchant's address, so that he might be summoned
to attend also.

That very evening, the Caliph, with his grand-vizir Giafar, and Mesrour,
chief of the eunuchs, all three disguised, as was their habit,
went out to take a stroll through the town.

Going down one street, the Caliph's attention was attracted
by a noise, and looking through a door which opened into a court
he perceived ten or twelve children playing in the moonlight.
He hid himself in a dark corner, and watched them.

"Let us play at being the Cadi," said the brightest and quickest
of them all; "I will be the Cadi.  Bring before me Ali Cogia,
and the merchant who robbed him of the thousand pieces of gold."

The boy's words recalled to the Caliph the petition he had read
that morning, and he waited with interest to see what the children
would do.

The proposal was hailed with joy by the other children, who had heard
a great deal of talk about the matter, and they quickly settled
the part each one was to play.  The Cadi took his seat gravely,
and an officer introduced first Ali Cogia, the plaintiff, and then
the merchant who was the defendant.

Ali Cogia made a low bow, and pleaded his cause point by point;
concluding by imploring the Cadi not to inflict on him such a
heavy loss.

The Cadi having heard his case, turned to the merchant, and inquired
why he had not repaid Ali Cogia the sum in question.

The false merchant repeated the reasons that the real merchant
had given to the Cadi of Bagdad, and also offered to swear that he
had told the truth.

"Stop a moment!" said the little Cadi, "before we come to oaths,
I should like to examine the vase with the olives.  Ali Cogia,"
he added, "have you got the vase with you?" and finding he had not,
the Cadi continued, "Go and get it, and bring it to me."

So Ali Cogia disappeared for an instant, and then pretended
to lay a vase at the feet of the Cadi, declaring it was his vase,
which he had given to the accused for safe custody; and in order
to be quite correct, the Cadi asked the merchant if he recognised it
as the same vase.  By his silence the merchant admitted the fact,
and the Cadi then commanded to have the vase opened.  Ali Cogia
made a movement as if he was taking off the lid, and the little
Cadi on his part made a pretence of peering into a vase.

"What beautiful olives!" he said, "I should like to taste one,"
and pretending to put one in his mouth, he added, "they are
really excellent!

"But," he went on, "it seems to me odd that olives seven years
old should be as good as that!  Send for some dealers in olives,
and let us hear what they say!"

Two children were presented to him as olive merchants, and the Cadi
addressed them.  "Tell me," he said, "how long can olives be kept
so as to be pleasant eating?"

"My lord," replied the merchants, "however much care is taken
to preserve them, they never last beyond the third year.  They lose
both taste and colour, and are only fit to be thrown away."

"If that is so," answered the little Cadi, "examine this vase,
and tell me how long the olives have been in it."

The olive merchants pretended to examine the olives and taste them;
then reported to the Cadi that they were fresh and good.

"You are mistaken," said he, "Ali Cogia declares he put them
in that vase seven years ago."

"My lord," returned the olive merchants, "we can assure you that
the olives are those of the present year.  And if you consult all
the merchants in Bagdad you will not find one to give a contrary opinion."

The accused merchant opened his mouth as if to protest, but the
Cadi gave him no time.  "Be silent," he said, "you are a thief.
Take him away and hang him."  So the game ended, the children
clapping their hands in applause, and leading the criminal away
to be hanged.

Haroun-al-Raschid was lost in astonishment at the wisdom of the child,
who had given so wise a verdict on the case which he himself was
to hear on the morrow.  "Is there any other verdict possible?"
he asked the grand-vizir, who was as much impressed as himself.
"I can imagine no better judgment."

"If the circumstances are really such as we have heard,"
replied the grand-vizir, "it seems to me your Highness could
only follow the example of this boy, in the method of reasoning,
and also in your conclusions."

"Then take careful note of this house," said the Caliph, "and bring me
the boy to-morrow, so that the affair may be tried by him in my presence.
Summon also the Cadi, to learn his duty from the mouth of a child.
Bid Ali Cogia bring his vase of olives, and see that two dealers
in olives are present."  So saying the Caliph returned to the palace.

The next morning early, the grand-vizir went back to the house
where they had seen the children playing, and asked for the mistress
and her children.  Three boys appeared, and the grand-vizir inquired
which had represented the Cadi in their game of the previous evening.
The eldest and tallest, changing colour, confessed that it was he,
and to his mother's great alarm, the grand-vizir said that he had
strict orders to bring him into the presence of the Caliph.

"Does he want to take my son from me?" cried the poor woman;
but the grand-vizir hastened to calm her, by assuring her that she
should have the boy again in an hour, and she would be quite
satisfied when she knew the reason of the summons.  So she dressed
the boy in his best clothes, and the two left the house.

When the grand-vizir presented the child to the Caliph, he was
a little awed and confused, and the Caliph proceeded to explain
why he had sent for him.  "Approach, my son," he said kindly.
"I think it was you who judged the case of Ali Cogia and the merchant
last night?  I overheard you by chance, and was very pleased
with the way you conducted it.  To-day you will see the real Ali
Cogia and the real merchant.  Seat yourself at once next to me."

The Caliph being seated on his throne with the boy next him, the parties
to the suit were ushered in.  One by one they prostrated themselves,
and touched the carpet at the foot of the throne with their foreheads.
When they rose up, the Caliph said:  "Now speak.  This child will
give you justice, and if more should be wanted I will see to it myself."

Ali Cogia and the merchant pleaded one after the other,
but when the merchant offered to swear the same oath that he
had taken before the Cadi, he was stopped by the child, who said
that before this was done he must first see the vase of olives.

At these words, Ali Cogia presented the vase to the Caliph,
and uncovered it.  The Caliph took one of the olives, tasted it,
and ordered the expert merchants to do the same.  They pronounced
the olives good, and fresh that year.  The boy informed them that Ali
Cogia declared it was seven years since he had placed them in the vase;
to which they returned the same answer as the children had done.

The accused merchant saw by this time that his condemnation
was certain, and tried to allege something in his defence.
The boy had too much sense to order him to be hanged, and looked at
the Caliph, saying, "Commander of the Faithful, this is not a game now;
it is for your Highness to condemn him to death and not for me."

Then the Caliph, convinced that the man was a thief, bade them take
him away and hang him, which was done, but not before he had confessed
his guilt and the place in which he had hidden Ali Cogia's money.
The Caliph ordered the Cadi to learn how to deal out justice from
the mouth of a child, and sent the boy home, with a purse containing
a hundred pieces of gold as a mark of his favour.



The Enchanted Horse


It was the Feast of the New Year, the oldest and most splendid of
all the feasts in the Kingdom of Persia, and the day had been spent
by the king in the city of Schiraz, taking part in the magnificent
spectacles prepared by his subjects to do honour to the festival.
The sun was setting, and the monarch was about to give his court the
signal to retire, when suddenly an Indian appeared before his throne,
leading a horse richly harnessed, and looking in every respect
exactly like a real one.

"Sire," said he, prostrating himself as he spoke, "although I make
my appearance so late before your Highness, I can confidently
assure you that none of the wonders you have seen during the day
can be compared to this horse, if you will deign to cast your eyes
upon him."

"I see nothing in it," replied the king, "except a clever imitation
of a real one; and any skilled workman might do as much."

"Sire," returned the Indian, "it is not of his outward form that I
would speak, but of the use that I can make of him.  I have only
to mount him, and to wish myself in some special place, and no
matter how distant it may be, in a very few moments I shall find
myself there.  It is this, Sire, that makes the horse so marvellous,
and if your Highness will allow me, you can prove it for yourself."

The King of Persia, who was interested in every thing out of the common,
and had never before come across a horse with such qualities,
bade the Indian mount tho animal, and show what he could do.
In an instant the man had vaulted on his back, and inquired where
the monarch wished to send him.

"Do you see that mountain?" asked the king, pointing to a huge
mass that towered into the sky about three leagues from Schiraz;
"go and bring me the leaf of a palm that grows at the foot."

The words were hardly out of the king's mouth when the Indian
turned a screw placed in the horse's neck, close to the saddle,
and the animal bounded like lightning up into the air, and was soon
beyond the sight even of the sharpest eyes.  In a quarter of an
hour the Indian was seen returning, bearing in his hand the palm,
and, guiding his horse to the foot of the throne, he dismounted,
and laid the leaf before the king.

Now the monarch had no sooner proved the astonishing speed of which the
horse was capable than he longed to possess it himself, and indeed,
so sure was he that the Indian would be quite ready to sell it,
that he looked upon it as his own already.

"I never guessed from his mere outside how valuable an animal he was,"
he remarked to the Indian, "and I am grateful to you for having shown
me my error," said he.  "If you will sell it, name your own price."

"Sire," replied the Indian, "I never doubted that a sovereign so wise
and accomplished as your Highness would do justice to my horse,
when he once knew its power; and I even went so far as to think it
probable that you might wish to possess it.  Greatly as I prize it,
I will yield it up to your Highness on one condition.  The horse
was not constructed by me, but it was given me by the inventor,
in exchange for my only daughter, who made me take a solemn oath that I
would never part with it, except for some object of equal value."

"Name anything you like," cried the monarch, interrupting him.
"My kingdom is large, and filled with fair cities.  You have only
to choose which you would prefer, to become its ruler to the end
of your life."

"Sire," answered the Indian, to whom the proposal did not seem
nearly so generous as it appeared to the king, "I am most
grateful to your Highness for your princely offer, and beseech
you not to be offended with me if I say that I can only deliver
up my horse in exchange for the hand of the princess your daughter."

A shout of laughter burst from the courtiers as they heard these words,
and Prince Firouz Schah, the heir apparent, was filled with anger
at the Indian's presumption.  The king, however, thought that it
would not cost him much to part from the princess in order to gain
such a delightful toy, and while he was hesitating as to his answer
the prince broke in.

"Sire," he said, "it is not possible that you can doubt for an
instant what reply you should give to such an insolent bargain.
Consider what you owe to yourself, and to the blood of your ancestors."

"My son," replied the king, "you speak nobly, but you do not
realise either the value of the horse, or the fact that if I reject
the proposal of the Indian, he will only make the same to some
other monarch, and I should be filled with despair at the thought
that anyone but myself should own this Seventh Wonder of the World.
Of course I do not say that I shall accept his conditions,
and perhaps he may be brought to reason, but meanwhile I should
like you to examine the horse, and, with the owner's permission,
to make trial of its powers."

The Indian, who had overheard the king's speech, thought that he
saw in it signs of yielding to his proposal, so he joyfully agreed
to the monarch's wishes, and came forward to help the prince to mount
the horse, and show him how to guide it:  but, before he had finished,
the young man turned the screw, and was soon out of sight.

They waited some time, expecting that every moment he might be seen
returning in the distance, but at length the Indian grew frightened,
and prostrating himself before the throne, he said to the king,
"Sire, your Highness must have noticed that the prince,
in his impatience, did not allow me to tell him what it was necessary
to do in order to return to the place from which he started.
I implore you not to punish me for what was not my fault, and not
to visit on me any misfortune that may occur."

"But why," cried the king in a burst of fear and anger, "why did
you not call him back when you saw him disappearing?"

"Sire," replied the Indian, "the rapidity of his movements took me
so by surprise that he was out of hearing before I recovered my speech.
But we must hope that he will perceive and turn a second screw,
which will have the effect of bringing the horse back to earth."

"But supposing he does!" answered the king, "what is to hinder
the horse from descending straight into the sea, or dashing him
to pieces on the rocks?"

"Have no fears, your Highness," said the Indian; "the horse has
the gift of passing over seas, and of carrying his rider wherever
he wishes to go."

"Well, your head shall answer for it," returned the monarch, "and if
in three months he is not safe back with me, or at any rate does
not send me news of his safety, your life shall pay the penalty."
So saying, he ordered his guards to seize the Indian and throw him
into prison.

Meanwhile, Prince Firouz Schah had gone gaily up into the air,
and for the space of an hour continued to ascend higher and higher,
till the very mountains were not distinguishable from the plains.
Then he began to think it was time to come down, and took for granted
that, in order to do this, it was only needful to turn the screw
the reverse way; but, to his surprise and horror, he found that,
turn as he might, he did not make the smallest impression.
He then remembered that he had never waited to ask how he was to get
back to earth again, and understood the danger in which he stood.
Luckily, he did not lose his head, and set about examining the
horse's neck with great care, till at last, to his intense joy,
he discovered a tiny little peg, much smaller than the other,
close to the right ear.  This he turned, and found him-self dropping
to the earth, though more slowly than he had left it.

It was now dark, and as the prince could see nothing, he was obliged,
not without some feeling of disquiet, to allow the horse to direct
his own course, and midnight was already passed before Prince Firouz
Schah again touched the ground, faint and weary from his long ride,
and from the fact that he had eaten nothing since early morning.

The first thing he did on dismounting was to try to find out where
he was, and, as far as he could discover in the thick darkness,
he found himself on the terraced roof of a huge palace, with a
balustrade of marble running round.  In one corner of the terrace stood
a small door, opening on to a staircase which led down into the palace.

Some people might have hesitated before exploring further, but not
so the prince.  "I am doing no harm," he said, "and whoever the owner
may be, he will not touch me when he sees I am unarmed," and in dread
of making a false step, he went cautiously down the staircase.
On a landing, he noticed an open door, beyond which was a faintly
lighted hall.

Before entering, the prince paused and listened, but he heard
nothing except the sound of men snoring.  By the light of a lantern
suspended from the roof, he perceived a row of black guards sleeping,
each with a naked sword lying by him, and he understood that the hall
must form the ante-room to the chamber of some queen or princess.

Standing quite still, Prince Firouz Schah looked about him, till his
eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and he noticed a bright light
shining through a curtain in one corner.  He then made his way softly
towards it, and, drawing aside its folds, passed into a magnificent
chamber full of sleeping women, all lying on low couches, except one,
who was on a sofa; and this one, he knew, must be the princess.

Gently stealing up to the side of her bed he looked at her, and saw
that she was more beautiful than any woman he had ever beheld.
But, fascinated though he was, he was well aware of the danger
of his position, as one cry of surprise would awake the guards,
and cause his certain death.

So sinking quietly on his knees, he took hold of the sleeve of
the princess and drew her arm lightly towards him.  The princess
opened her eyes, and seeing before her a handsome well-dressed man,
she remained speechless with astonishment.

This favourable moment was seized by the prince, who bowing low
while he knelt, thus addressed her:

"You behold, madame, a prince in distress, son to the King of Persia,
who, owing to an adventure so strange that you will scarcely
believe it, finds himself here, a suppliant for your protection.
But yesterday, I was in my father's court, engaged in the celebration
of our most solemn festival; to-day, I am in an unknown land,
in danger of my life."

Now the princess whose mercy Prince Firouz Schah implored was the eldest
daughter of the King of Bengal, who was enjoying rest and change in the
palace her father had built her, at a little distance from the capital.
She listened kindly to what he had to say, and then answered:

"Prince, be not uneasy; hospitality and humanity are practised
as widely in Bengal as they are in Persia.  The protection you ask
will be given you by all.  You have my word for it."  And as the
prince was about to thank her for her goodness, she added quickly,
"However great may be my curiosity to learn by what means you
have travelled here so speedily, I know that you must be faint
for want of food, so I shall give orders to my women to take you
to one of my chambers, where you will be provided with supper,
and left to repose."

By this time the princess's attendants were all awake, and listening
to the conversation.  At a sign from their mistress they rose,
dressed themselves hastily, and snatching up some of the tapers which
lighted the room, conducted the prince to a large and lofty room,
where two of the number prepared his bed, and the rest went down
to the kitchen, from which they soon returned with all sorts
of dishes.  Then, showing him cupboards filled with dresses and linen,
they quitted the room.

During their absence the Princess of Bengal, who had been greatly struck
by the beauty of the prince, tried in vain to go to sleep again.
It was of no use:  she felt broad awake, and when her women entered
the room, she inquired eagerly if the prince had all he wanted,
and what they thought of him.

"Madame," they replied, "it is of course impossible for us to tell
what impression this young man has made on you.  For ourselves,
we think you would be fortunate if the king your father should
allow you to marry anyone so amiable.  Certainly there is no one
in the Court of Bengal who can be compared with him."

These flattering observations were by no means displeasing to
the princess, but as she did not wish to betray her own feelings she
merely said, "You are all a set of chatterboxes; go back to bed,
and let me sleep."

When she dressed the following morning, her maids noticed that,
contrary to her usual habit, the princess was very particular about
her toilette, and insisted on her hair being dressed two or three
times over.  "For," she said to herself, "if my appearance was not
displeasing to the prince when he saw me in the condition I was,
how much more will he be struck with me when he beholds me with all
my charms."

Then she placed in her hair the largest and most brilliant diamonds
she could find, with a necklace, bracelets and girdle, all of
precious stones.  And over her shoulders her ladies put a robe of the
richest stuff in all the Indies, that no one was allowed to wear except
members of the royal family.  When she was fully dressed according
to her wishes, she sent to know if the Prince of Persia was awake
and ready to receive her, as she desired to present herself before him.

When the princess's messenger entered his room, Prince Firouz Schah
was in the act of leaving it, to inquire if he might be allowed to pay
his homage to her mistress:  but on hearing the princess's wishes,
he at once gave way.  "Her will is my law," he said, "I am only
here to obey her orders."

In a few moments the princess herself appeared, and after the usual
compliments had passed between them, the princess sat down on a sofa,
and began to explain to the prince her reasons for not giving him
an audience in her own apartments.  "Had I done so," she said,
"we might have been interrupted at any hour by the chief of the eunuchs,
who has the right to enter whenever it pleases him, whereas this
is forbidden ground.  I am all impatience to learn the wonderful
accident which has procured the pleasure of your arrival, and that
is why I have come to you here, where no one can intrude upon us.
Begin then, I entreat you, without delay."

So the prince began at the beginning, and told all the story of the
festival of Nedrouz held yearly in Persia, and of the splendid spectacles
celebrated in its honour.  But when he came to the enchanted horse,
the princess declared that she could never have imagined anything
half so surprising.  "Well then," continued the prince, "you can
easily understand how the King my father, who has a passion for
all curious things, was seized with a violent desire to possess
this horse, and asked the Indian what sum he would take for it.

"The man's answer was absolutely absurd, as you will agree, when I
tell you that it was nothing less than the hand of the princess
my sister; but though all the bystanders laughed and mocked,
and I was beside myself with rage, I saw to my despair that my
father could not make up his mind to treat the insolent proposal
as it deserved.  I tried to argue with him, but in vain.  He only
begged me to examine the horse with a view (as I quite understood)
of making me more sensible of its value."

"To please my father, I mounted the horse, and, without waiting
for any instructions from the Indian, turned the peg as I had seen
him do.  In an instant I was soaring upwards, much quicker than
an arrow could fly, and I felt as if I must be getting so near
the sky that I should soon hit my head against it!  I could see
nothing beneath me, and for some time was so confused that I
did not even know in what direction I was travelling.  At last,
when it was growing dark, I found another screw, and on turning it,
the horse began slowly to sink towards the earth.  I was forced
to trust to chance, and to see what fate had in store, and it was
already past midnight when I found myself on the roof of this palace.
I crept down the little staircase, and made directly for a light
which I perceived through an open door--I peeped cautiously in,
and saw, as you will guess, the eunuchs lying asleep on the floor.
I knew the risks I ran, but my need was so great that I paid no
attention to them, and stole safely past your guards, to the curtain
which concealed your doorway.

"The rest, Princess, you know; and it only remains for me to thank you
for the kindness you have shown me, and to assure you of my gratitude.
By the law of nations, I am already your slave, and I have only
my heart, that is my own, to offer you.  But what am I saying?
My own?  Alas, madame, it was yours from the first moment I
beheld you!"

The air with which he said these words could have left no doubt
on the mind of the princess as to the effect of her charms,
and the blush which mounted to her face only increased her beauty.

"Prince," returned she as soon as her confusion permitted her to speak,
"you have given me the greatest pleasure, and I have followed you
closely in all your adventures, and though you are positively
sitting before me, I even trembled at your danger in the upper
regions of the air!  Let me say what a debt I owe to the chance
that has led you to my house; you could have entered none which
would have given you a warmer welcome.  As to your being a slave,
of course that is merely a joke, and my reception must itself have
assured you that you are as free here as at your father's court.
As to your heart," continued she in tones of encouragement,
"I am quite sure that must have been disposed of long ago, to some
princess who is well worthy of it, and I could not think of being
the cause of your unfaithfulness to her."

Prince Firouz Schah was about to protest that there was no lady
with any prior claims, but he was stopped by the entrance
of one of the princess's attendants, who announced that dinner
was served, and, after all, neither was sorry for the interruption.

Dinner was laid in a magnificent apartment, and the table was
covered with delicious fruits; while during the repast richly
dressed girls sang softly and sweetly to stringed instruments.
After the prince and princess had finished, they passed into a small
room hung with blue and gold, looking out into a garden stocked
with flowers and arbutus trees, quite different from any that were
to be found in Persia.

"Princess," observed the young man, "till now I had always believed
that Persia could boast finer palaces and more lovely gardens
than any kingdom upon earth.  But my eyes have been opened,
and I begin to perceive that, wherever there is a great king
he will surround himself with buildings worthy of him."

"Prince," replied the Princess of Bengal, "I have no idea what
a Persian palace is like, so I am unable to make comparisons.
I do not wish to depreciate my own palace, but I can assure you
that it is very poor beside that of the King my father, as you
will agree when you have been there to greet him, as I hope you
will shortly do."

Now the princess hoped that, by bringing about a meeting
between the prince and her father, the King would be so struck
with the young man's distinguished air and fine manners,
that he would offer him his daughter to wife.  But the reply
of the Prince of Persia to her suggestion was not quite what she wished.

"Madame," he said, "by taking advantage of your proposal to visit the
palace of the King of Bengal, I should satisfy not merely my curiosity,
but also the sentiments of respect with which I regard him.
But, Princess, I am persuaded that you will feel with me, that I
cannot possibly present myself before so great a sovereign without
the attendants suitable to my rank.  He would think me an adventurer."

"If that is all," she answered, "you can get as many attendants
here as you please.  There are plenty of Persian merchants, and as
for money, my treasury is always open to you.  Take what you please."

Prince Firouz Schah guessed what prompted so much kindness on the part
of the princess, and was much touched by it.  Still his passion,
which increased every moment, did not make him forget his duty.
So he replied without hesitation:

"I do not know, Princess, how to express my gratitude for your obliging
offer, which I would accept at once if it were not for the recollection
of all the uneasiness the King my father must be suffering on my account.
I should be unworthy indeed of all the love he showers upon me,
if I did not return to him at the first possible moment.  For, while I
am enjoying the society of the most amiable of all princesses, he is,
I am quite convinced, plunged in the deepest grief, having lost all
hope of seeing me again.  I am sure you will understand my position,
and will feel that to remain away one instant longer than is
necessary would not only be ungrateful on my part, but perhaps
even a crime, for how do I know if my absence may not break his heart?

"But," continued the prince, "having obeyed the voice of my conscience,
I shall count the moments when, with your gracious permission,
I may present myself before the King of Bengal, not as a wanderer,
but as a prince, to implore the favour of your hand.  My father has
always informed me that in my marriage I shall be left quite free,
but I am persuaded that I have only to describe your generosity,
for my wishes to become his own."

The Princess of Bengal was too reasonable not ta accept the explanation
offered by Prince Firouz Schah, but she was much disturbed at his
intention of departing at once, for she feared that, no sooner had he
left her, than the impression she had made on him would fade away.
So she made one more effort to keep him, and after assuring him
that she entirely approved of his anxiety to see his father,
begged him to give her a day or two more of his company.

In common politeness the prince could hardly refuse this request,
and the princess set about inventing every kind of amusement for him,
and succeeded so well that two months slipped by almost unnoticed,
in balls, spectacles and in hunting, of which, when unattended
by danger, the princess was passionately fond.  But at last, one day,
he declared seriously that he could neglect his duty no longer,
and entreated her to put no further obstacles in his way, promising at
the same time to return, as soon as he could, with all the magnificence
due both to her and to himself.

"Princess," he added, "it may be that in your heart you class me with
those false lovers whose devotion cannot stand the test of absence.
If you do, you wrong me; and were it not for fear of offending you,
I would beseech you to come with me, for my life can only be happy
when passed with you.  As for your reception at the Persian Court,
it will be as warm as your merits deserve; and as for what concerns
the King of Bengal, he must be much more indifferent to your welfare
than you have led me to believe if he does not give his consent to
our marriage."

The princess could not find words in which to reply to the arguments
of the Prince of Persia, but her silence and her downcast eyes spoke
for her, and declared that she had no objection to accompanying
him on his travels.

The only difficulty that occurred to her was that Prince Firouz
Schah did not know how to manage the horse, and she dreaded
lest they might find themselves in the same plight as before.
But the prince soothed her fears so successfully, that she soon
had no other thought than to arrange for their flight so secretly,
that no one in the palace should suspect it.

This was done, and early the following morning, when the whole palace
was wrapped in sleep, she stole up on to the roof, where the prince
was already awaiting her, with his horse's head towards Persia.
He mounted first and helped the princess up behind; then, when she
was firmly seated, with her hands holding tightly to his belt,
he touched the screw, and the horse began to leave the earth quickly
behind him.

He travelled with his accustomed speed, and Prince Firouz Schah guided
him so well that in two hours and a half from the time of starting,
he saw the capital of Persia lying beneath him.  He determined
to alight neither in the great square from which he had started,
nor in the Sultan's palace, but in a country house at a little
distance from the town.  Here he showed the princess a beautiful
suite of rooms, and begged her to rest, while he informed his father
of their arrival, and prepared a public reception worthy of her rank.
Then he ordered a horse to be saddled, and set out.

All the way through the streets he was welcomed with shouts of joy
by the people, who had long lost all hope of seeing him again.
On reaching the palace, he found the Sultan surrounded by his ministers,
all clad in the deepest mourning, and his father almost went out of his
mind with surprise and delight at the mere sound of his son's voice.
When he had calmed down a little, he begged the prince to relate
his adventures.

The prince at once seized the opening thus given him, and told
the whole story of his treatment by the Princess of Bengal,
not even concealing the fact that she had fallen in love with him.
"And, Sire," ended the prince, "having given my royal word that you
would not refuse your consent to our marriage, I persuaded her
to return with me on the Indian's horse.  I have left her in one
of your Highness's country houses, where she is waiting anxiously
to be assured that I have not promised in vain."

As he said this the prince was about to throw himself at the feet
of the Sultan, but his father prevented him, and embracing him again,
said eagerly:

"My son, not only do I gladly consent to your marriage with the
Princess of Bengal, but I will hasten to pay my respects to her,
and to thank her in my own person for the benefits she has
conferred on you.  I will then bring her back with me, and make
all arrangements for the wedding to be celebrated to-day."

So the Sultan gave orders that the habits of mourning
worn by the people should be thrown off and that there
should be a concert of drums, trumpets and cymbals.
Also that the Indian should be taken from prison, and brought before him.

His commands were obeyed, and the Indian was led into his presence,
surrounded by guards.  "I have kept you locked up," said the Sultan,
"so that in case my son was lost, your life should pay the penalty.
He has now returned; so take your horse, and begone for ever."

The Indian hastily quitted the presence of the Sultan, and when he
was outside, he inquired of the man who had taken him out of prison
where the prince had really been all this time, and what he had
been doing.  They told him the whole story, and how the Princess
of Bengal was even then awaiting in the country palace the consent
of the Sultan, which at once put into the Indian's head a plan
of revenge for the treatment he had experienced.  Going straight to
the country house, he informed the doorkeeper who was left in charge
that he had been sent by the Sultan and by the Prince of Persia to
fetch the princess on the enchanted horse, and to bring her to the palace.

The doorkeeper knew the Indian by sight, and was of course aware
that nearly three months before he had been thrown into prison
by the Sultan; and seeing him at liberty, the man took for granted
that he was speaking the truth, and made no difficulty about
leading him before the Princess of Bengal; while on her side,
hearing that he had come from the prince, the lady gladly consented
to do what he wished.

The Indian, delighted with the success of his scheme,
mounted the horse, assisted the princess to mount behind him,
and turned the peg at the very moment that the prince was leaving
the palace in Schiraz for the country house, followed closely by the
Sultan and all the court.  Knowing this, the Indian deliberately
steered the horse right above the city, in order that his revenge
for his unjust imprisonment might be all the quicker and sweeter.

When the Sultan of Persia saw the horse and its riders, he stopped short
with astonishment and horror, and broke out into oaths and curses,
which the Indian heard quite unmoved, knowing that he was perfectly
safe from pursuit.  But mortified and furious as the Sultan was,
his feelings were nothing to those of Prince Firouz Schah, when he
saw the object of his passionate devotion being borne rapidly away.
And while he was struck speechless with grief and remorse at not
having guarded her better, she vanished swiftly out of his sight.
What was he to do?  Should he follow his father into the palace,
and there give reins to his despair?  Both his love and his courage
alike forbade it; and he continued his way to the palace.

The sight of the prince showed the doorkeeper of what folly he
had been guilty, and flinging himself at his master's feet,
implored his pardon.  "Rise," said the prince, "I am the cause of
this misfortune, and not you.  Go and find me the dress of a dervish,
but beware of saying it is for me."

At a short distance from the country house, a convent of dervishes
was situated, and the superior, or scheih, was the doorkeeper's friend.
So by means of a false story made up on the spur of the moment,
it was easy enough to get hold of a dervish's dress, which the
prince at once put on, instead of his own.  Disguised like this
and concealing about him a box of pearls and diamonds he had intended
as a present to the princess, he left the house at nightfall,
uncertain where he should go, but firmly resolved not to return
without her.

Meanwhile the Indian had turned the horse in such a direction that,
before many hours had passed, it had entered a wood close to
the capital of the kingdom of Cashmere.  Feeling very hungry,
and supposing that the princess also might be in want of food,
he brought his steed down to the earth, and left the princess
in a shady place, on the banks of a clear stream.

At first, when the princess had found herself alone, the idea
had occurred to her of trying to escape and hide herself.
But as she had eaten scarcely anything since she had left Bengal,
she felt she was too weak to venture far, and was obliged to
abandon her design.  On the return of the Indian with meats of
various kinds, she began to eat voraciously, and soon had regained
sufficient courage to reply with spirit to his insolent remarks.
Goaded by his threats she sprang to her feet, calling loudly
for help, and luckily her cries were heard by a troop of horsemen,
who rode up to inquire what was the matter.

Now the leader of these horsemen was the Sultan of Cashmere,
returning from the chase, and he instantly turned to the Indian
to inquire who he was, and whom he had with him.  The Indian rudely
answered that it was his wife, and there was no occasion for anyone
else to interfere between them.

The princess, who, of course, was ignorant of the rank of
her deliverer, denied altogether the Indian's story.  "My lord,"
she cried, "whoever you may be, put no faith in this impostor.
He is an abominable magician, who has this day torn me from the
Prince of Persia, my destined husband, and has brought me here on
this enchanted horse."  She would have continued, but her tears
choked her, and the Sultan of Cashmere, convinced by her beauty
and her distinguished air of the truth of her tale, ordered his
followers to cut off the Indian's head, which was done immediately.

But rescued though she was from one peril, it seemed as if she
had only fallen into another.  The Sultan commanded a horse to
be given her, and conducted her to his own palace, where he led
her to a beautiful apartment, and selected female slaves to wait
on her, and eunuchs to be her guard.  Then, without allowing
her time to thank him for all he had done, he bade her repose,
saying she should tell him her adventures on the following day.

The princess fell asleep, flattering herself that she had only
to relate her story for the Sultan to be touched by compassion,
and to restore her to the prince without delay.  But a few hours
were to undeceive her.

When the King of Cashmere had quitted her presence the evening before,
he had resolved that the sun should not set again without the princess
becoming his wife, and at daybreak proclamation of his intention was
made throughout the town, by the sound of drums, trumpets, cymbals,
and other instruments calculated to fill the heart with joy.
The Princess of Bengal was early awakened by the noise, but she did
not for one moment imagine that it had anything to do with her,
till the Sultan, arriving as soon as she was dressed to inquire
after her health, informed her that the trumpet blasts she heard
were part of the solemn marriage ceremonies, for which he begged
her to prepare.  This unexpected announcement caused the princess
such terror that she sank down in a dead faint.

The slaves that were in waiting ran to her aid, and the Sultan
himself did his best to bring her back to consciousness, but for
a long while it was all to no purpose.  At length her senses
began slowly to come back to her, and then, rather than break
faith with the Prince of Persia by consenting to such a marriage,
she determined to feign madness.  So she began by saying all
sorts of absurdities, and using all kinds of strange gestures,
while the Sultan stood watching her with sorrow and surprise.
But as this sudden seizure showed no sign of abating, he left
her to her women, ordering them to take the greatest care of her.
Still, as the day went on, the malady seemed to become worse,
and by night it was almost violent.

Days passed in this manner, till at last the Sultan of Cashmere
decided to summon all the doctors of his court to consult together
over her sad state.  Their answer was that madness is of so many
different kinds that it was impossible to give an opinion on
the case without seeing the princess, so the Sultan gave orders
that they were to be introduced into her chamber, one by one,
every man according to his rank.

This decision had been foreseen by the princess, who knew quite
well that if once she allowed the physicians to feel her pulse,
the most ignorant of them would discover that she was in perfectly
good health, and that her madness was feigned, so as each man approached,
she broke out into such violent paroxysms, that not one dared to lay
a finger on her.  A few, who pretended to be cleverer than the rest,
declared that they could diagnose sick people only from sight,
ordered her certain potions, which she made no difficulty about taking,
as she was persuaded they were all harmless.

When the Sultan of Cashmere saw that the court doctors could do
nothing towards curing the princess, he called in those of the city,
who fared no better.  Then he had recourse to the most celebrated
physicians in the other large towns, but finding that the task
was beyond their science, he finally sent messengers into the other
neighbouring states, with a memorandum containing full particulars
of the princess's madness, offering at the same time to pay
the expenses of any physician who would come and see for himself,
and a handsome reward to the one who should cure her.  In answer
to this proclamation many foreign professors flocked into Cashmere,
but they naturally were not more successful than the rest had been,
as the cure depended neither on them nor their skill, but only on
the princess herself.

It was during this time that Prince Firouz Schah, wandering sadly
and hopelessly from place to place, arrived in a large city of India,
where he heard a great deal of talk about the Princess of Bengal who
had gone out of her senses, on the very day that she was to have been
married to the Sultan of Cashmere.  This was quite enough to induce
him to take the road to Cashmere, and to inquire at the first inn
at which he lodged in the capital the full particulars of the story.
When he knew that he had at last found the princess whom he had
so long lost, he set about devising a plan for her rescue.

The first thing he did was to procure a doctor's robe, so that his dress,
added to the long beard he had allowed to grow on his travels,
might unmistakably proclaim his profession.  He then lost no time
in going to the palace, where he obtained an audience of the
chief usher, and while apologising for his boldness in presuming
to think that he could cure the princess, where so many others
had failed, declared that he had the secret of certain remedies,
which had hitherto never failed of their effect.

The chief usher assured him that he was heartily welcome, and that
the Sultan would receive him with pleasure; and in case of success,
he would gain a magnificent reward.

When the Prince of Persia, in the disguise of a physician, was brought
before him, the Sultan wasted no time in talking, beyond remarking
that the mere sight of a doctor threw the princess into transports
of rage.  He then led the prince up to a room under the roof,
which had an opening through which he might observe the princess,
without himself being seen.

The prince looked, and beheld the princess reclining on a sofa
with tears in her eyes, singing softly to herself a song bewailing
her sad destiny, which had deprived her, perhaps for ever,
of a being she so tenderly loved.  The young man's heart beat fast
as he listened, for he needed no further proof that her madness
was feigned, and that it was love of him which had caused her to
resort to this species of trick.  He softly left his hiding-place,
and returned to the Sultan, to whom he reported that he was sure
from certain signs that the princess's malady was not incurable,
but that he must see her and speak with her alone.

The Sultan made no difficulty in consenting to this, and commanded
that he should be ushered in to the princess's apartment.
The moment she caught sight of his physician's robe, she sprang
from her seat in a fury, and heaped insults upon him.  The prince
took no notice of her behaviour, and approaching quite close,
so that his words might be heard by her alone, he said in a low whisper,
"Look at me, princess, and you will see that I am no doctor,
but the Prince of Persia, who has come to set you free."

At the sound of his voice, the Princess of Bengal suddenly grew calm,
and an expression of joy overspread her face, such as only comes
when what we wish for most and expect the least suddenly happens
to us.  For some time she was too enchanted to speak, and Prince
Firouz Schah took advantage of her silence to explain to her all
that had occurred, his despair at watching her disappear before
his very eyes, the oath he had sworn to follow her over the world,
and his rapture at finally discovering her in the palace at Cashmere.
When he had finished, he begged in his turn that the princess would
tell him how she had come there, so that he might the better devise
some means of rescuing her from the tyranny of the Sultan.

It needed but a few words from the princess to make him acquainted
with the whole situation, and how she had been forced to play the part
of a mad woman in order to escape from a marriage with the Sultan,
who had not had sufficient politeness even to ask her consent.
If necessary, she added, she had resolved to die sooner than permit
herself to be forced into such a union, and break faith with a prince
whom she loved.

The prince then inquired if she knew what had become of the
enchanted horse since the Indian's death, but the princess could
only reply that she had heard nothing about it.  Still she did
not suppose that the horse could have been forgotten by the Sultan,
after all she had told him of its value.

To this the prince agreed, and they consulted together over a plan
by which she might be able to make her escape and return with him
into Persia.  And as the first step, she was to dress herself
with care, and receive the Sultan with civility when he visited
her next morning.

The Sultan was transported with delight on learning the result
of the interview, and his opinion of the doctor's skill was raised
still higher when, on the following day, the princess behaved
towards him in such a way as to persuade him that her complete
cure would not be long delayed.  However he contented himself with
assuring her how happy he was to see her health so much improved,
and exhorted her to make every use of so clever a physician,
and to repose entire confidence in him.  Then he retired,
without awaiting any reply from the princess.

The Prince of Persia left the room at the same time, and asked
if he might be allowed humbly to inquire by what means the Princess
of Bengal had reached Cashmere, which was so far distant from her
father's kingdom, and how she came to be there alone.  The Sultan
thought the question very natural, and told him the same story
that the Princess of Bengal had done, adding that he had ordered
the enchanted horse to be taken to his treasury as a curiosity,
though he was quite ignorant how it could be used.

"Sire," replied the physician, "your Highness's tale has supplied me
with the clue I needed to complete the recovery of the princess.
During her voyage hither on an enchanted horse, a portion of its
enchantment has by some means been communicated to her person,
and it can only be dissipated by certain perfumes of which I possess
the secret.  If your Highness will deign to consent, and to give
the court and the people one of the most astonishing spectacles they
have ever witnessed, command the horse to be brought into the big
square outside the palace, and leave the rest to me.  I promise that
in a very few moments, in presence of all the assembled multitude,
you shall see the princess as healthy both in mind and body as ever
she was in her life.  And in order to make the spectacle as impressive
as possible, I would suggest that she should be richly dressed
and covered with the noblest jewels of the crown."

The Sultan readily agreed to all that the prince proposed,
and the following morning he desired that the enchanted horse
should be taken from the treasury, and brought into the great square
of the palace.  Soon the rumour began to spread through the town,
that something extraordinary was about to happen, and such a crowd
began to collect that the guards had to be called out to keep order,
and to make a way for the enchanted horse.

When all was ready, the Sultan appeared, and took his place on
a platform, surrounded by the chief nobles and officers of his court.
When they were seated, the Princess of Bengal was seen leaving
the palace, accompanied by the ladies who had been assigned
to her by the Sultan.  She slowly approached the enchanted horse,
and with the help of her ladies, she mounted on its back.
Directly she was in the saddle, with her feet in the stirrups
and the bridle in her hand, the physician placed around the horse
some large braziers full of burning coals, into each of which he
threw a perfume composed of all sorts of delicious scents.  Then he
crossed his hands over his breast, and with lowered eyes walked
three times round the horse, muttering the while certain words.
Soon there arose from the burning braziers a thick smoke which almost
concealed both the horse and princess, and this was the moment for
which he had been waiting.  Springing lightly up behind the lady,
he leaned forward and turned the peg, and as the horse darted up into
the air, he cried aloud so that his words were heard by all present,
"Sultan of Cashmere, when you wish to marry princesses who have
sought your protection, learn first to gain their consent."

It was in this way that the Prince of Persia rescued the Princess
of Bengal, and returned with her to Persia, where they descended
this time before the palace of the King himself.  The marriage
was only delayed just long enough to make the ceremony as brilliant
as possible, and, as soon as the rejoicings were over, an ambassador
was sent to the King of Bengal, to inform him of what had passed,
and to ask his approbation of the alliance between the two countries,
which he heartily gave.



The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their Younger Sister


Once upon a time there reigned over Persia a Sultan named Kosrouschah,
who from his boyhood had been fond of putting on a disguise and seeking
adventures in all parts of the city, accompanied by one of his officers,
disguised like himself.  And no sooner was his father buried
and the ceremonies over that marked his accession to the throne,
than the young man hastened to throw off his robes of state,
and calling to his vizir to make ready likewise, stole out in the simple
dress of a private citizen into the less known streets of the capital.

Passing down a lonely street, the Sultan heard women's voices
in loud discussion; and peeping through a crack in the door, he saw
three sisters, sitting on a sofa in a large hall, talking in a very
lively and earnest manner.  Judging from the few words that reached
his ear, they were each explaining what sort of men they wished to marry.

"I ask nothing better," cried the eldest, "than to have the Sultan's
baker for a husband.  Think of being able to eat as much as one wanted,
of that delicious bread that is baked for his Highness alone!
Let us see if your wish is as good as mine."

"I," replied the second sister, "should be quite content
with the Sultan's head cook.  What delicate stews I should
feast upon!  And, as I am persuaded that the Sultan's bread is used
all through the palace, I should have that into the bargain.
You see, my dear sister, my taste is as good as yours."

It was now the turn of the youngest sister, who was by far the most
beautiful of the three, and had, besides, more sense than the
other two.  "As for me," she said, "I should take a higher flight;
and if we are to wish for husbands, nothing less than the Sultan
himself will do for me."

The Sultan was so much amused by the conversation he had overheard,
that he made up his mind to gratify their wishes, and turning to
the grand-vizir, he bade him note the house, and on the following
morning to bring the ladies into his presence.

The grand-vizir fulfilled his commission, and hardly giving
them time to change their dresses, desired the three sisters
to follow him to the palace.  Here they were presented one by one,
and when they had bowed before the Sultan, the sovereign abruptly
put the question to them:

"Tell me, do you remember what you wished for last night, when you
were making merry?  Fear nothing, but answer me the truth."

These words, which were so unexpected, threw the sisters into
great confusion, their eyes fell, and the blushes of the youngest
did not fail to make an impression on the heart of the Sultan.
All three remained silent, and he hastened to continue:  "Do not
be afraid, I have not the slightest intention of giving you pain,
and let me tell you at once, that I know the wishes formed by
each one.  You," he said, turning to the youngest, "who desired to
have me for an husband, shall be satisfied this very day.  And you,"
he added, addressing himself to the other two, "shall be married
at the same moment to my baker and to my chief cook."

When the Sultan had finished speaking the three sisters flung
themselves at his feet, and the youngest faltered out, "Oh, sire,
since you know my foolish words, believe, I pray you, that they were
only said in joke.  I am unworthy of the honour you propose to do me,
and I can only ask pardon for my boldness."

The other sisters also tried to excuse themselves, but the Sultan
would hear nothing.

"No, no," he said, "my mind is made up.  Your wishes shall
be accomplished."

So the three weddings were celebrated that same day, but with a
great difference.  That of the youngest was marked by all the
magnificence that was customary at the marriage of the Shah of Persia,
while the festivities attending the nuptials of the Sultan's baker
and his chief cook were only such as were suitable to their conditions.

This, though quite natural, was highly displeasing to the elder
sisters, who fell into a passion of jealousy, which in the end
caused a great deal of trouble and pain to several people.
And the first time that they had the opportunity of speaking to
each other, which was not till several days later at a public bath,
they did not attempt to disguise their feelings.

"Can you possibly understand what the Sultan saw in that little cat,"
said one to the other, "for him to be so fascinated by her?"

"He must be quite blind," returned the wife of the chief cook.
"As for her looking a little younger than we do, what does that matter?
You would have made a far better Sultana than she."

"Oh, I say nothing of myself," replied the elder, "and if the
Sultan had chosen you it would have been all very well; but it
really grieves me that he should have selected a wretched little
creature like that.  However, I will be revenged on her somehow,
and I beg you will give me your help in the matter, and to tell
me anything that you can think of that is likely to mortify her."

In order to carry out their wicked scheme the two sisters met
constantly to talk over their ideas, though all the while they
pretended to be as friendly as ever towards the Sultana, who,
on her part, invariably treated them with kindness.  For a long
time no plan occurred to the two plotters that seemed in the
least likely to meet with success, but at length the expected
birth of an heir gave them the chance for which they had been hoping.

They obtained permission of the Sultan to take up their abode in the
palace for some weeks, and never left their sister night or day.
When at last a little boy, beautiful as the sun, was born, they laid
him in his cradle and carried it down to a canal which passed
through the grounds of the palace.  Then, leaving it to its fate,
they informed the Sultan that instead of the son he had so fondly
desired the Sultana had given birth to a puppy.  At this dreadful
news the Sultan was so overcome with rage and grief that it was with
great difficulty that the grand-vizir managed to save the Sultana
from his wrath.

Meanwhile the cradle continued to float peacefully along the canal till,
on the outskirts of the royal gardens, it was suddenly perceived
by the intendant, one of the highest and most respected officials
in the kingdom.

"Go," he said to a gardener who was working near, "and get that
cradle out for me."

The gardener did as he was bid, and soon placed the cradle
in the hands of the intendant.

The official was much astonished to see that the cradle, which he had
supposed to be empty, contained a baby, which, young though it was,
already gave promise of great beauty.  Having no children himself,
although he had been married some years, it at once occurred to him
that here was a child which he could take and bring up as his own.
And, bidding the man pick up the cradle and follow him, he turned
towards home.

"My wife," he exclaimed as he entered the room, "heaven has denied
us any children, but here is one that has been sent in their place.
Send for a nurse, and I will do what is needful publicly to recognise
it as my son."

The wife accepted the baby with joy, and though the intendant saw
quite well that it must have come from the royal palace, he did
not think it was his business to inquire further into the mystery.

The following year another prince was born and sent adrift,
but happily for the baby, the intendant of the gardens again
was walking by the canal, and carried it home as before.

The Sultan, naturally enough, was still more furious the second time
than the first, but when the same curious accident was repeated
in the third year he could control himself no longer, and, to the
great joy of the jealous sisters, commanded that the Sultana should
be executed.  But the poor lady was so much beloved at Court that not
even the dread of sharing her fate could prevent the grand-vizir
and the courtiers from throwing themselves at the Sultan's feet
and imploring him not to inflict so cruel a punishment for what,
after all, was not her fault.

"Let her live," entreated the grand-vizir, "and banish her
from your presence for the rest of her days.  That in itself
will be punishment enough."

His first passion spent, the Sultan had regained his self-command.
"Let her live then," he said, "since you have it so much at heart.
But if I grant her life it shall only be on one condition, which shall
make her daily pray for death.  Let a box be built for her at the door
of the principal mosque, and let the window of the box be always open.
There she shall sit, in the coarsest clothes, and every Mussulman
who enters the mosque shall spit in her face in passing.  Anyone that
refuses to obey shall be exposed to the same punishment himself.
You, vizir, will see that my orders are carried out."

The grand-vizir saw that it was useless to say more, and, full of triumph,
the sisters watched the building of the box, and then listened to the
jeers of the people at the helpless Sultana sitting inside.  But the poor
lady bore herself with so much dignity and meekness that it was not long
before she had won the sympathy of those that were best among the crowd.

But it is now time to return to the fate of the third baby,
this time a princess.  Like its brothers, it was found by the
intendant of the gardens, and adopted by him and his wife,
and all three were brought up with the greatest care and tenderness.

As the children grew older their beauty and air of distinction
became more and more marked, and their manners had all the grace
and ease that is proper to people of high birth.  The princes had
been named by their foster-father Bahman and Perviz, after two of
the ancient kings of Persia, while the princess was called Parizade,
or the child of the genii.

The intendant was careful to bring them up as befitted their
real rank, and soon appointed a tutor to teach the young princes
how to read and write.  And the princess, determined not to be
left behind, showed herself so anxious to learn with her brothers,
that the intendant consented to her joining in their lessons,
and it was not long before she knew as much as they did.

From that time all their studies were done in common.  They had the best
masters for the fine arts, geography, poetry, history and science,
and even for sciences which are learned by few, and every branch seemed
so easy to them, that their teachers were astonished at the progress
they made.  The princess had a passion for music, and could sing
and play upon all sorts of instruments she could also ride and drive
as well as her brothers, shoot with a bow and arrow, and throw
a javelin with the same skill as they, and sometimes even better.

In order to set off these accomplishments, the intendant resolved
that his foster children should not be pent up any longer in the
narrow borders of the palace gardens, where he had always lived,
so he bought a splendid country house a few miles from the capital,
surrounded by an immense park.  This park he filled with wild beasts
of various sorts, so that the princes and princess might hunt as much
as they pleased.

When everything was ready, the intendant threw himself at the
Sultan's feet, and after referring to his age and his long services,
begged his Highness's permission to resign his post.  This was granted
by the Sultan in a few gracious words, and he then inquired what reward
he could give to his faithful servant.  But the intendant declared that
he wished for nothing except the continuance of his Highness's favour,
and prostrating himself once more, he retired from the Sultan's presence.

Five or six months passed away in the pleasures of the country,
when death attacked the intendant so suddenly that he had no time
to reveal the secret of their birth to his adopted children,
and as his wife had long been dead also, it seemed as if the princes
and the princess would never know that they had been born to a
higher station than the one they filled.  Their sorrow for their
father was very deep, and they lived quietly on in their new home,
without feeling any desire to leave it for court gaieties or intrigues.

One day the princes as usual went out to hunt, but their sister
remained alone in her apartments.  While they were gone an old
Mussulman devotee appeared at the door, and asked leave to enter,
as it was the hour of prayer.  The princess sent orders at once that
the old woman was to be taken to the private oratory in the grounds,
and when she had finished her prayers was to be shown the house
and gardens, and then to be brought before her.

Although the old woman was very pious, she was not at all
indifferent to the magnificence of all around her, which she
seemed to understand as well as to admire, and when she had
seen it all she was led by the servants before the princess,
who was seated in a room which surpassed in splendour all the rest.

"My good woman," said the princess pointing to a sofa, "come and sit
beside me.  I am delighted at the opportunity of speaking for a few
moments with so holy a person."  The old woman made some objections
to so much honour being done her, but the princess refused to listen,
and insisted that her guest should take the best seat, and as she
thought she must be tired ordered refreshments.

While the old woman was eating, the princess put several questions
to her as to her mode of life, and the pious exercises she practiced,
and then inquired what she thought of the house now that she had
seen it.

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "one must be hard indeed to please
to find any fault.  It is beautiful, comfortable and well ordered,
and it is impossible to imagine anything more lovely than the garden.
But since you ask me, I must confess that it lacks three things
to make it absolutely perfect."

"And what can they be?" cried the princess.  "Only tell me, and I
will lose no time in getting them."

"The three things, madam," replied the old woman, "are, first,
the Talking Bird, whose voice draws all other singing birds to it,
to join in chorus.  And second, the Singing Tree, where every leaf
is a song that is never silent.  And lastly the Golden Water,
of which it is only needful to pour a single drop into a basin
for it to shoot up into a fountain, which will never be exhausted,
nor will the basin ever overflow."

"Oh, how can I thank you," cried the princess, "for telling me of
such treasures!  But add, I pray you.  to your goodness by further
informing me where I can find them."

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "I should ill repay the hospitality
you have shown me if I refused to answer your question.  The three
things of which I have spoken are all to be found in one place,
on the borders of this kingdom, towards India.  Your messenger has
only to follow the road that passes by your house, for twenty days,
and at the end of that time, he is to ask the first person he meets
for the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water."
She then rose, and bidding farewell to the princess, went her way.

The old woman had taken her departure so abruptly that the Princess
Parizade did not perceive till she was really gone that the directions
were hardly clear enough to enable the search to be successful.
And she was still thinking of the subject, and how delightful it
would be to possess such rarities, when the princes, her brothers,
returned from the chase.

"What is the matter, my sister?" asked Prince Bahman; "why are you
so grave?  Are you ill? or has anything happened?"

Princess Parizade did not answer directly, but at length she raised
her eyes, and replied that there was nothing wrong.

"But there must be something," persisted Prince Bahman, "for you
to have changed so much during the short time we have been absent.
Hide nothing from us, I beseech you, unless you wish us to believe
that the confidence we have always had in one another is now
to cease."

"When I said that it was nothing," said the princess, moved by
his words, "I meant that it was nothing that affected you, although I
admit that it is certainly of some importance to me.  Like myself,
you have always thought this house that our father built for us was
perfect in every respect, but only to-day I have learned that three
things are still lacking to complete it.  These are the Talking Bird,
the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water."  After explaining the peculiar
qualities of each, the princess continued:  "It was a Mussulman
devotee who told me all this, and where they might all be found.
Perhaps you will think that the house is beautiful enough as it is,
and that we can do quite well without them; but in this I cannot
agree with you, and I shall never be content until I have got them.
So counsel me, I pray, whom to send on the undertaking."

"My dear sister," replied Prince Bahman, "that you should care
about the matter is quite enough, even if we took no interest in
it ourselves.  But we both feel with you, and I claim, as the elder,
the right to make the first attempt, if you will tell me where I
am to go, and what steps I am to take."

Prince Perviz at first objected that, being the head of the family,
his brother ought not to be allowed to expose himself to danger;
but Prince Bahman would hear nothing, and retired to make the needful
preparations for his journey.

The next morning Prince Bahman got up very early, and after
bidding farewell to his brother and sister, mounted his horse.
But just as he was about to touch it with his whip, he was stopped
by a cry from the princess.

"Oh, perhaps after all you may never come back; one never can tell
what accidents may happen.  Give it up, I implore you, for I would
a thousand times rather lose the Talking Bird, and the Singing Tree
and the Golden Water, than that you should run into danger."

"My dear sister," answered the prince, "accidents only happen
to unlucky people, and I hope that I am not one of them.
But as everything is uncertain, I promise you to be very careful.
Take this knife," he continued, handing her one that hung sheathed
from his belt, "and every now and then draw it out and look at it.
As long as it keeps bright and clean as it is to-day, you will know
that I am living; but if the blade is spotted with blood, it will be
a sign that I am dead, and you shall weep for me."

So saying, Prince Bahman bade them farewell once more, and started
on the high road, well mounted and fully armed.  For twenty days he
rode straight on, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left,
till he found himself drawing near the frontiers of Persia.
Seated under a tree by the wayside he noticed a hideous old man,
with a long white moustache, and beard that almost fell to his feet.
His nails had grown to an enormous length, and on his head he wore a
huge hat, which served him for an umbrella.

Prince Bahman, who, remembering the directions of the old woman,
had been since sunrise on the look-out for some one, recognised the
old man at once to be a dervish.  He dismounted from his horse,
and bowed low before the holy man, saying by way of greeting,
"My father, may your days be long in the land, and may all your wishes
be fulfilled!"

The dervish did his best to reply, but his moustache was so thick that
his words were hardly intelligible, and the prince, perceiving what
was the matter, took a pair of scissors from his saddle pockets,
and requested permission to cut off some of the moustache, as he had
a question of great importance to ask the dervish.  The dervish made
a sign that he might do as he liked, and when a few inches of his hair
and beard had been pruned all round the prince assured the holy man
that he would hardly believe how much younger he looked.  The dervish
smiled at his compliments, and thanked him for what he had done.

"Let me," he said, "show you my gratitude for making me more
comfortable by telling me what I can do for you."

"Gentle dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I come from far, and I
seek the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water.
I know that they are to be found somewhere in these parts, but I am
ignorant of the exact spot.  Tell me, I pray you, if you can, so that I
may not have travelled on a useless quest."  While he was speaking,
the prince observed a change in the countenance of the dervish,
who waited for some time before he made reply.

"My lord," he said at last, "I do know the road for which you ask,
but your kindness and the friendship I have conceived for you make
me loth to point it out."

"But why not?" inquired the prince.  "What danger can there be?"

"The very greatest danger," answered the dervish.  "Other men,
as brave as you, have ridden down this road, and have put me
that question.  I did my best to turn them also from their purpose,
but it was of no use.  Not one of them would listen to my words,
and not one of them came back.  Be warned in time, and seek to go
no further."

"I am grateful to you for your interest in me," said Prince Bahman,
"and for the advice you have given, though I cannot follow it.
But what dangers can there be in the adventure which courage and a good
sword cannot meet?"

"And suppose," answered the dervish, "that your enemies are invisible,
how then?"

"Nothing will make me give it up," replied the prince, "and for
the last time I ask you to tell me where I am to go."

When the dervish saw that the prince's mind was made up,
he drew a ball from a bag that lay near him, and held it out.
"If it must be so," he said, with a sigh, "take this, and when
you have mounted your horse throw the ball in front of you.
It will roll on till it reaches the foot of a mountain, and when it
stops you will stop also.  You will then throw the bridle on your
horse's neck without any fear of his straying, and will dismount.
On each side you will see vast heaps of big black stones,
and will hear a multitude of insulting voices, but pay no heed
to them, and, above all, beware of ever turning your head.
If you do, you will instantly become a black stone like the rest.
For those stones are in reality men like yourself, who have been on
the same quest, and have failed, as I fear that you may fail also.
If you manage to avoid this pitfall, and to reach the top of
the mountain, you will find there the Talking Bird in a splendid cage,
and you can ask of him where you are to seek the Singing Tree and
the Golden Water.  That is all I have to say.  You know what you
have to do, and what to avoid, but if you are wise you will think
of it no more, but return whence you have come."

The prince smilingly shook his head, and thanking the dervish
once more, he sprang on his horse and threw the ball before him.

The ball rolled along the road so fast that Prince Bahman had much
difficulty in keeping up with it, and it never relaxed its speed
till the foot of the mountain was reached.  Then it came to a
sudden halt, and the prince at once got down and flung the bridle
on his horse's neck.  He paused for a moment and looked round him
at the masses of black stones with which the sides of the mountain
were covered, and then began resolutely to ascend.  He had hardly
gone four steps when he heard the sound of voices around him,
although not another creature was in sight.

"Who is this imbecile?" cried some, "stop him at once."  "Kill him,"
shrieked others, "Help! robbers! murderers! help! help!"  "Oh, let
him alone," sneered another, and this was the most trying of all,
"he is such a beautiful young man; I am sure the bird and the cage
must have been kept for him."

At first the prince took no heed to all this clamour, but continued
to press forward on his way.  Unfortunately this conduct, instead of
silencing the voices, only seemed to irritate them the more,
and they arose with redoubled fury, in front as well as behind.
After some time he grew bewildered, his knees began to tremble,
and finding himself in the act of falling, he forgot altogether
the advice of the dervish.  He turned to fly down the mountain,
and in one moment became a black stone.

As may be imagined, Prince Perviz and his sister were all this
time in the greatest anxiety, and consulted the magic knife,
not once but many times a day.  Hitherto the blade had remained
bright and spotless, but on the fatal hour on which Prince Bahman
and his horse were changed into black stones, large drops of blood
appeared on the surface.  "Ah! my beloved brother," cried the princess
in horror, throwing the knife from her, "I shall never see you again,
and it is I who have killed you.  Fool that I was to listen to the
voice of that temptress, who probably was not speaking the truth.
What are the Talking Bird and the Singing Tree to me in comparison
with you, passionately though I long for them!"

Prince Perviz's grief at his brother's loss was not less than that of
Princess Parizade, but he did not waste his time on useless lamentations.

"My sister," he said, "why should you think the old woman was deceiving
you about these treasures, and what would have been her object in
doing so!  No, no, our brother must have met his death by some accident,
or want of precaution, and to-morrow I will start on the same quest."

Terrified at the thought that she might lose her only remaining
brother, the princess entreated him to give up his project,
but he remained firm.  Before setting out, however, he gave her a
chaplet of a hundred pearls, and said, "When I am absent, tell this
over daily for me.  But if you should find that the beads stick,
so that they will not slip one after the other, you will know that
my brother's fate has befallen me.  Still, we must hope for better luck."

Then he departed, and on the twentieth day of his journey fell
in with the dervish on the same spot as Prince Bahman had met him,
and began to question him as to the place where the Talking Bird,
the Singing Tree and the Golden Water were to be found.  As in the case
of his brother, the dervish tried to make him give up his project,
and even told him that only a few weeks since a young man,
bearing a strong resemblance to himself, had passed that way,
but had never come back again.

"That, holy dervish," replied Prince Perviz, "was my elder brother,
who is now dead, though how he died I cannot say."

"He is changed into a black stone," answered the dervish, "like all
the rest who have gone on the same errand, and you will become one
likewise if you are not more careful in following my directions."
Then he charged the prince, as he valued his life, to take no heed
of the clamour of voices that would pursue him up the mountain,
and handing him a ball from the bag, which still seemed to be half full,
he sent him on his way.

When Prince Perviz reached the foot of the mountain he jumped from
his horse, and paused for a moment to recall the instructions the
dervish had given him.  Then he strode boldly on, but had scarcely
gone five or six paces when he was startled by a man's voice
that seemed close to his ear, exclaiming:  "Stop, rash fellow,
and let me punish your audacity."  This outrage entirely put
the dervish's advice out of the prince's head.  He drew his sword,
and turned to avenge himself, but almost before he had realised
that there was nobody there, he and his horse were two black stones.

Not a morning had passed since Prince Perviz had ridden away without
Princess Parizade telling her beads, and at night she even hung
them round her neck, so that if she woke she could assure herself
at once of her brother's safety.  She was in the very act of moving
them through her fingers at the moment that the prince fell a victim
to his impatience, and her heart sank when the first pearl remained
fixed in its place.  However she had long made up her mind what she
would do in such a case, and the following morning the princess,
disguised as a man, set out for the mountain.

As she had been accustomed to riding from her childhood, she managed
to travel as many miles daily as her brothers had done, and it was,
as before, on the twentieth day that she arrived at the place
where the dervish was sitting.  "Good dervish," she said politely,
"will you allow me to rest by you for a few moments, and perhaps you
will be so kind as to tell me if you have ever heard of a Talking Bird,
a Singing Tree, and some Golden Water that are to be found somewhere
near this?"

"Madam," replied the dervish, "for in spite of your manly dress your
voice betrays you, I shall be proud to serve you in any way I can.
But may I ask the purpose of your question?"

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I have heard such glowing
descriptions of these three things, that I cannot rest till I
possess them."

"Madam," said the dervish, "they are far more beautiful than
any description, but you seem ignorant of all the difficulties
that stand in your way, or you would hardly have undertaken
such an adventure.  Give it up, I pray you, and return home,
and do not ask me to help you to a cruel death."

"Holy father," answered the princess, "I come from far, and I should
be in despair if I turned back without having attained my object.
You have spoken of difficulties; tell me, I entreat you, what they are,
so that I may know if I can overcome them, or see if they are beyond
my strength."

So the dervish repeated his tale, and dwelt more firmly than before
on the clamour of the voices, the horrors of the black stones,
which were once living men, and the difficulties of climbing
the mountain; and pointed out that the chief means of success
was never to look behind till you had the cage in your grasp.

"As far as I can see," said the princess, "the first thing is not
to mind the tumult of the voices that follow you till you reach
the cage, and then never to look behind.  As to this, I think I
have enough self-control to look straight before me; but as it is
quite possible that I might be frightened by the voices, as even the
boldest men have been, I will stop up my ears with cotton, so that,
let them make as much noise as they like, I shall hear nothing."

"Madam," cried the dervish, "out of all the number who have asked me
the way to the mountain, you are the first who has ever suggested
such a means of escaping the danger!  It is possible that you
may succeed, but all the same, the risk is great."

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I feel in my heart that I
shall succeed, and it only remains for me to ask you the way I am
to go."

Then the dervish said that it was useless to say more, and he gave
her the ball, which she flung before her.

The first thing the princess did on arriving at the mountain was
to stop her ears with cotton, and then, making up her mind which was
the best way to go, she began her ascent.  In spite of the cotton,
some echoes of the voices reached her ears, but not so as to trouble her.
Indeed, though they grew louder and more insulting the higher she climbed,
the princess only laughed, and said to herself that she certainly
would not let a few rough words stand between her and the goal.
At last she perceived in the distance the cage and the bird,
whose voice joined itself in tones of thunder to those of the rest:
"Return, return! never dare to come near me."

At the sight of the bird, the princess hastened her steps, and without
vexing herself at the noise which by this time had grown deafening,
she walked straight up to the cage, and seizing it, she said:
"Now, my bird, I have got you, and I shall take good care that you
do not escape."  As she spoke she took the cotton from her ears,
for it was needed no longer.

"Brave lady," answered the bird, "do not blame me for having joined
my voice to those who did their best to preserve my freedom.
Although confined in a cage, I was content with my lot, but if I
must become a slave, I could not wish for a nobler mistress than
one who has shown so much constancy, and from this moment I swear
to serve you faithfully.  Some day you will put me to the proof,
for I know who you are better than you do yourself.  Meanwhile, tell me
what I can do, and I will obey you."

"Bird," replied the princess, who was filled with a joy that seemed
strange to herself when she thought that the bird had cost her the
lives of both her brothers.  "bird, let me first thank you for your
good will, and then let me ask you where the Golden Water is to be found."

The bird described the place, which was not far distant, and the
princess filled a small silver flask that she had brought with her
for the purpose.  She then returned to the cage, and said:  "Bird,
there is still something else, where shall I find the Singing Tree?"

"Behind you, in that wood," replied the bird, and the princess
wandered through the wood, till a sound of the sweetest voices told
her she had found what she sought.  But the tree was tall and strong,
and it was hopeless to think of uprooting it.

"You need not do that," said the bird, when she had returned
to ask counsel.  "Break off a twig, and plant it in your garden,
and it will take root, and grow into a magnificent tree."

When the Princess Parizade held in her hands the three wonders
promised her by the old woman, she said to the bird:  "All that is
not enough.  It was owing to you that my brothers became black stones.
I cannot tell them from the mass of others, but you must know,
and point them out to me, I beg you, for I wish to carry them away."

For some reason that the princess could not guess these words seemed
to displease the bird, and he did not answer.  The princess waited
a moment, and then continued in severe tones, "Have you forgotten
that you yourself said that you are my slave to do my bidding,
and also that your life is in my power?"

"No, I have not forgotten," replied the bird, "but what you ask is
very difficult.  However, I will do my best.  If you look round,"
he went on, "you will see a pitcher standing near.  Take it, and, as you
go down the mountain, scatter a little of the water it contains
over every black stone and you will soon find your two brothers."

Princess Parizade took the pitcher, and, carrying with her besides
the cage the twig and the flask, returned down the mountain side.
At every black stone she stopped and sprinkled it with water,
and as the water touched it the stone instantly became a man.
When she suddenly saw her brothers before her her delight was mixed
with astonishment.

"Why, what are you doing here?" she cried.

"We have been asleep," they said.

"Yes," returned the princess, "but without me your sleep would
probably have lasted till the day of judgment.  Have you forgotten
that you came here in search of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree,
and the Golden Water, and the black stones that were heaped
up along the road?  Look round and see if there is one left.
These gentlemen, and yourselves, and all your horses were changed
into these stones, and I have delivered you by sprinkling you with
the water from this pitcher.  As I could not return home without you,
even though I had gained the prizes on which I had set my heart,
I forced the Talking Bird to tell me how to break the spell."

On hearing these words Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz understood
all they owed their sister, and the knights who stood by declared
themselves her slaves and ready to carry out her wishes.
But the princess, while thanking them for their politeness,
explained that she wished for no company but that of her brothers,
and that the rest were free to go where they would.

So saying the princess mounted her horse, and, declining to allow
even Prince Bahman to carry the cage with the Talking Bird,
she entrusted him with the branch of the Singing Tree, while Prince
Perviz took care of the flask containing the Golden Water.

Then they rode away, followed by the knights and gentlemen,
who begged to be permitted to escort them.

It had been the intention of the party to stop and tell their
adventures to the dervish, but they found to their sorrow that he
was dead, whether from old age, or whether from the feeling
that his task was done, they never knew.

As they continued their road their numbers grew daily smaller,
for the knights turned off one by one to their own homes, and only
the brothers and sister finally drew up at the gate of the palace.

The princess carried the cage straight into the garden, and, as soon
as the bird began to sing, nightingales, larks, thrushes, finches,
and all sorts of other birds mingled their voices in chorus.
The branch she planted in a corner near the house, and in a few
days it had grown into a great tree.  As for the Golden Water it
was poured into a great marble basin specially prepared for it,
and it swelled and bubbled and then shot up into the air in a fountain
twenty feet high.

The fame of these wonders soon spread abroad, and people came
from far and near to see and admire.

After a few days Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz fell back into
their ordinary way of life, and passed most of their time hunting.
One day it happened that the Sultan of Persia was also hunting
in the same direction, and, not wishing to interfere with his sport,
the young men, on hearing the noise of the hunt approaching,
prepared to retire, but, as luck would have it, they turned
into the very path down which the Sultan was coming.  They threw
themselves from their horses and prostrated themselves to the earth,
but the Sultan was curious to see their faces, and commanded them
to rise.

The princes stood up respectfully, but quite at their ease,
and the Sultan looked at them for a few moments without speaking,
then he asked who they were and where they lived.

"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "we are sons of your Highness's
late intendant of the gardens, and we live in a house that he
built a short time before his death, waiting till an occasion
should offer itself to serve your Highness."

"You seem fond of hunting," answered the Sultan.

"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "it is our usual exercise,
and one that should be neglected by no man who expects to comply
with the ancient customs of the kingdom and bear arms."

The Sultan was delighted with this remark, and said at once,
"In that case I shall take great pleasure in watching you.
Come, choose what sort of beasts you would like to hunt."

The princes jumped on their horses and followed the Sultan
at a little distance.  They had not gone very far before they
saw a number of wild animals appear at once, and Prince Bahman
started to give chase to a lion and Prince Perviz to a bear.
Both used their javelins with such skill that, directly they arrived
within striking range, the lion and the bear fell, pierced through
and through.  Then Prince Perviz pursued a lion and Prince
Bahman a bear, and in a very few minutes they, too, lay dead.
As they were making ready for a third assault the Sultan interfered,
and, sending one of his officials to summon them, he said smiling,
"If I let you go on, there will soon be no beasts left to hunt.
Besides, your courage and manners have so won my heart that I will
not have you expose yourselves to further danger.  I am convinced
that some day or other I shall find you useful as well a agreeable."

He then gave them a warm invitation to stay with him altogether,
but with many thanks for the honour done them, they begged to
be excused, and to be suffered to remain at home.

The Sultan who was not accustomed to see his offers rejected
inquired their reasons, and Prince Bahman explained that they did
not wish to leave their sister, and were accustomed to do nothing
without consulting all three together.

"Ask her advice, then," replied the Sultan, "and to-morrow come
and hunt with me, and give me your answer."

The two princes returned home, but their adventure made so little
impression on them that they quite forgot to speak to their sister
on the subject.  The next morning when they went to hunt they met
the Sultan in the same place, and he inquired what advice their
sister had given.  The young men looked at each other and blushed.
At last Prince Bahman said, "Sire, we must throw ourselves on your
Highness's mercy.  Neither my brother nor myself remembered anything
about it."

"Then be sure you do not forget to-day," answered the Sultan,
"and bring me back your reply to-morrow."

When, however, the same thing happened a second time, they feared
that the Sultan might be angry with them for their carelessness.
But he took it in good part, and, drawing three little golden
balls from his purse, he held them out to Prince Bahman, saying,
"Put these in your bosom and you will not forget a third time,
for when you remove your girdle to-night the noise they will make
in falling will remind you of my wishes."

It all happened as the Sultan had foreseen, and the two brothers
appeared in their sister's apartments just as she was in the act
of stepping into bed, and told their tale.

The Princess Parizade was much disturbed at the news, and did not
conceal her feelings.  "Your meeting with the Sultan is very honourable
to you," she said, "and will, I dare say, be of service to you,
but it places me in a very awkward position.  It is on my account,
I know, that you have resisted the Sultan's wishes, and I am
very grateful to you for it.  But kings do not like to have their
offers refused, and in time he would bear a grudge against you,
which would render me very unhappy.  Consult the Talking Bird,
who is wise and far-seeing, and let me hear what he says."

So the bird was sent for and the case laid before him.

"The princes must on no account refuse the Sultan's proposal,"
said he, "and they must even invite him to come and see your house."

"But, bird," objected the princess, "you know how dearly we love
each other; will not all this spoil our friendship?"

"Not at all," replied the bird, "it will make it all the closer."

"Then the Sultan will have to see me," said the princess.

The bird answered that it was necessary that he should see her,
and everything would turn out for the best.

The following morning, when the Sultan inquired if they had spoken
to their sister and what advice she had given them, Prince Bahman
replied that they were ready to agree to his Highness's wishes,
and that their sister had reproved them for their hesitation about
the matter.  The Sultan received their excuses with great kindness,
and told them that he was sure they would be equally faithful to him,
and kept them by his side for the rest of the day, to the vexation
of the grand-vizir and the rest of the court.

When the procession entered in this order the gates of the capital,
the eyes of the people who crowded the streets were fixed on the two
young men, strangers to every one.

"Oh, if only the Sultan had had sons like that!" they murmured,
"they look so distinguished and are about the same age that his sons
would have been!"

The Sultan commanded that splendid apartments should be prepared for the
two brothers, and even insisted that they should sit at table with him.
During dinner he led the conversation to various scientific subjects,
and also to history, of which he was especially fond, but whatever
topic they might be discussing he found that the views of the young
men were always worth listening to.  "If they were my own sons,"
he said to himself, "they could not be better educated!" and aloud
he complimented them on their learning and taste for knowledge.

At the end of the evening the princes once more prostrated themselves
before the throne and asked leave to return home; and then,
encouraged by the gracious words of farewell uttered by the Sultan,
Prince Bahman said:  "Sire, may we dare to take the liberty of asking
whether you would do us and our sister the honour of resting for
a few minutes at our house the first time the hunt passes that way?"

"With the utmost pleasure," replied the Sultan; "and as I am
all impatience to see the sister of such accomplished young men
you may expect me the day after to-morrow."

The princess was of course most anxious to entertain the Sultan
in a fitting way, but as she had no experience in court customs
she ran to the Talking Bird, and begged he would advise her
as to what dishes should be served.

"My dear mistress," replied the bird, "your cooks are very good
and you can safely leave all to them, except that you must be
careful to have a dish of cucumbers, stuffed with pearl sauce,
served with the first course."

"Cucumbers stuffed with pearls!" exclaimed the princess.  "Why, bird,
who ever heard of such a dish?  The Sultan will expect a dinner he
can eat, and not one he can only admire!  Besides, if I were to use
all the pearls I possess, they would not be half enough."

"Mistress," replied the bird, "do what I tell you and nothing
but good will come of it.  And as to the pearls, if you go at dawn
to-morrow and dig at the foot of the first tree in the park,
on the right hand, you will find as many as you want."

The princess had faith in the bird, who generally proved to be right,
and taking the gardener with her early next morning followed out
his directions carefully.  After digging for some time they came
upon a golden box fastened with little clasps.

These were easily undone, and the box was found to be full of pearls,
not very large ones, but well-shaped and of a good colour.
So leaving the gardener to fill up the hole he had made under the tree,
the princess took up the box and returned to the house.

The two princes had seen her go out, and had wondered what could have
made her rise so early.  Full of curiosity they got up and dressed,
and met their sister as she was returning with the box under her arm.

"What have you been doing?" they asked, "and did the gardener come
to tell you he had found a treasure?"

"On the contrary," replied the princess, "it is I who have found one,"
and opening the box she showed her astonished brothers the
pearls inside.  Then, on the way back to the palace, she told them
of her consultation with the bird, and the advice it had given her.
All three tried to guess the meaning of the singular counsel,
but they were forced at last to admit the explanation was beyond them,
and they must be content blindly to obey.

The first thing the princess did on entering the palace was to send
for the head cook and to order the repast for the Sultan When she
had finished she suddenly added, "Besides the dishes I have mentioned
there is one that you must prepare expressly for the Sultan, and that
no one must touch but yourself.  It consists of a stuffed cucumber,
and the stuffing is to be made of these pearls."

The head cook, who had never in all his experience heard of such
a dish, stepped back in amazement.

"You think I am mad," answered the princess, who perceived what was
in his mind.  "But I know quite well what I am doing.  Go, and do
your best, and take the pearls with you."

The next morning the princes started for the forest, and were soon
joined by the Sultan.  The hunt began and continued till mid-day,
when the heat became so great that they were obliged to leave off.
Then, as arranged, they turned their horses' heads towards the palace,
and while Prince Bahman remained by the side of the Sultan,
Prince Perviz rode on to warn his sister of their approach.

The moment his Highness entered the courtyard, the princess flung
herself at his feet, but he bent and raised her, and gazed at her
for some time, struck with her grace and beauty, and also with the
indefinable air of courts that seemed to hang round this country girl.
"They are all worthy one of the other," he said to himself,
"and I am not surprised that they think so much of her opinions.
I must know more of them."

By this time the princess had recovered from the first embarrassment
of meeting, and proceeded to make her speech of welcome.

"This is only a simple country house, sire," she said,
"suitable to people like ourselves, who live a quiet life.
It cannot compare with the great city mansions, much less,
of course, with the smallest of the Sultan's palaces."

"I cannot quite agree with you," he replied; "even the little
that I have seen I admire greatly, and I will reserve my judgment
until you have shown me the whole."

The princess then led the way from room to room, and the Sultan examined
everything carefully.  "Do you call this a simple country house?"
he said at last.  "Why, if every country house was like this,
the towns would soon be deserted.  I am no longer astonished
that you do not wish to leave it.  Let us go into the gardens,
which I am sure are no less beautiful than the rooms."

A small door opened straight into the garden, and the first object
that met the Sultan's eyes was the Golden Water.

"What lovely coloured water!" he exclaimed; "where is the spring,
and how do you make the fountain rise so high?  I do not believe there
is anything like it in the world."  He went forward to examine it,
and when he had satisfied his curiosity, the princess conducted him
towards the Singing Tree.

As they drew near, the Sultan was startled by the sound of
strange voices, but could see nothing.  "Where have you hidden
your musicians?" he asked the princess; "are they up in the air,
or under the earth?  Surely the owners of such charming voices
ought not to conceal themselves!"

"Sire," answered the princess, "the voices all come from the tree
which is straight in front of us; and if you will deign to advance
a few steps, you will see that they become clearer."

The Sultan did as he was told, and was so wrapt in delight
at what he heard that he stood some time in silence.

"Tell me, madam, I pray you," he said at last, "how this
marvellous tree came into your garden?  It must have been brought
from a great distance, or else, fond as I am of all curiosities,
I could not have missed hearing of it!  What is its name?"

"The only name it has, sire," replied she, "is the Singing Tree,
and it is not a native of this country.  Its history is mixed up with
those of the Golden Water and the Talking Bird, which you have not
yet seen.  If your Highness wishes I will tell you the whole story,
when you have recovered from your fatigue."

"Indeed, madam," returned he, "you show me so many wonders that it
is impossible to feel any fatigue.  Let us go once more and look
at the Golden Water; and I am dying to see the Talking Bird."

The Sultan could hardly tear himself away from the Golden Water,
which puzzled him more and more.  "You say," he observed to
the princess, "that this water does not come from any spring,
neither is brought by pipes.  All I understand is, that neither
it nor the Singing Tree is a native of this country."

"It is as you say, sire," answered the princess, "and if you
examine the basin, you will see that it is all in one piece,
and therefore the water could not have been brought through it.
What is more astonishing is, that I only emptied a small flaskful
into the basin, and it increased to the quantity you now see."

"Well, I will look at it no more to-day," said the Sultan.
"Take me to the Talking Bird."

On approaching the house, the Sultan noticed a vast quantity of birds,
whose voices filled the air, and he inquired why they were so much
more numerous here than in any other part of the garden.

"Sire," answered the princess, "do you see that cage hanging in one
of the windows of the saloon? that is the Talking Bird, whose voice
you can hear above them all, even above that of the nightingale.
And the birds crowd to this spot, to add their songs to his."

The Sultan stepped through the window, but the bird took no notice,
continuing his song as before.

"My slave," said the princess, "this is the Sultan; make him
a pretty speech."

The bird stopped singing at once, and all the other birds stopped too.

"The Sultan is welcome," he said.  "I wish him long life
and all prosperity."

"I thank you, good bird," answered the Sultan, seating himself
before the repast, which was spread at a table near the window,
"and I am enchanted to see in you the Sultan and King of the Birds."

The Sultan, noticing that his favourite dish of cucumber was placed
before him, proceeded to help himself to it, and was amazed to and
that the stuffing was of pearls.  "A novelty, indeed!" cried he,
"but I do not understand the reason of it; one cannot eat pearls!"

"Sire," replied the bird, before either the princes or the princess
could speak, "surely your Highness cannot be so surprised at beholding
a cucumber stuffed with pearls, when you believed without any
difficulty that the Sultana had presented you, instead of children,
with a dog, a cat, and a log of wood."

"I believed it," answered the Sultan, "because the women attending
on her told me so."

"The women, sire," said the bird, "were the sisters of the Sultana,
who were devoured with jealousy at the honour you had done her, and in
order to revenge themselves invented this story.  Have them examined,
and they will confess their crime.  These are your children,
who were saved from death by the intendant of your gardens,
and brought up by him as if they were his own."

Like a flash the truth came to the mind of the Sultan.
"Bird," he cried, "my heart tells me that what you say is true.
My children," he added, "let me embrace you, and embrace each other,
not only as brothers and sister, but as having in you the blood
royal of Persia which could flow in no nobler veins."

When the first moments of emotion were over, the Sultan hastened
to finish his repast, and then turning to his children he exclaimed:
"To-day you have made acquaintance with your father.  To-morrow I
will bring you the Sultana your mother.  Be ready to receive her."

The Sultan then mounted his horse and rode quickly back to the capital.
Without an instant's delay he sent for the grand-vizir, and ordered
him to seize and question the Sultana's sisters that very day.
This was done.  They were confronted with each other and proved guilty,
and were executed in less than an hour.

But the Sultan did not wait to hear that his orders had been
carried out before going on foot, followed by his whole court to
the door of the great mosque, and drawing the Sultana with his own
hand out of the narrow prison where she had spent so many years,
"Madam," he cried, embracing her with tears in his eyes,
"I have come to ask your pardon for the injustice I have done you,
and to repair it as far as I may.  I have already begun by punishing
the authors of this abominable crime, and I hope you will forgive
me when I introduce you to our children, who are the most charming
and accomplished creatures in the whole world.  Come with me,
and take back your position and all the honour that is due to you."

This speech was delivered in the presence of a vast multitude of people,
who had gathered from all parts on the first hint of what was happening,
and the news was passed from mouth to mouth in a few seconds.

Early next day the Sultan and Sultana, dressed in robes of state
and followed by all the court, set out for the country house
of their children.  Here the Sultan presented them to the Sultana
one by one, and for some time there was nothing but embraces and
tears and tender words.  Then they ate of the magnificent dinner
which had been prepared for them, and after they were all refreshed
they went into the garden, where the Sultan pointed out to his wife
the Golden Water and the Singing Tree.  As to the Talking Bird,
she had already made acquaintance with him.

In the evening they rode together back to the capital, the princes
on each side of their father, and the princess with her mother.
Long before they reached the gates the way was lined with people,
and the air filled with shouts of welcome, with which were mingled
the songs of the Talking Bird, sitting in its cage on the lap of
the princess, and of the birds who followed it.

And in this manner they came back to their father's palace.