little water in the palm of her hand, and throwing it in the
king's face, said, "Wretch! quit that form ofa man, and take that
of a vile horse, blind and lame."

These words not having the desired effect, the sorceress was
strangely surprised to find King Beder still in the same form,
and that he only started for fear. Her cheeks reddened; and as
she saw that she had missed her aim, "Dear Beder," cried she,
"this is nothing; recover yourself. I did not intend you any
harm; I only did it to see what you would say. I should be the
most miserable and most execrable of women, should I attempt so
black a deed; not only on account of all the oaths I have sworn,
but also of the many testimonies of love I have given you."

"Puissant queen," replied King Beder, "persuaded as I am, that
what your majesty did was only to divert yourself, I could not
help being surprised. What could hinder me from being a little
moved at the pronouncing of so strange a transformation? But,
madam," continued he, "let us drop this discourse; and since I
have eaten of your cake, would you do me the favour to taste
mine?"

Queen Labe, who could not better justify herself than by showing
this mark of confidence in the king of Persia, broke off a piece
of his cake and ate it. She had no sooner swallowed it than she
appeared much troubled, and remained as it were motionless. King
Beder lost no time, but took water out of the same basin, and
throwing it in her face, cried, "Abominable sorceress ! quit the
form of woman, and be turned instantly into a mare."

The same moment, Queen Labe was transformed into a very beautiful
mare; and her confusion was so great to find herself in that
condition, that she shed tears in great abundance. She bowed her
head to the feet of King Beder, thinking to move him to
compassion; but though he could have been so moved, it was
absolutely out of his power to repair the mischief he had done.
He led her into the stable belonging to the palace, and put her
into the hands of a groom, to bridle and saddle; but of all the
bridles which the groom tried upon her, not one would fit. This
made him cause two horses to be saddled, one for the groom and
the other for himself; and the groom led the mare after him to
old Abdallah's.

Abdallah seeing at a distance King Beder coming with the mare,
doubted not but he had done what he had advised him. "Cursed
sorceress!" said he immediately to himself in a transport of joy,
"heaven has at length punished thee as thou deservest." King
Beder alighted at Abdallah's door and entered with him into the
shop, embracing and thanking him for all the signal services he
had done him. He related to him the whole matter, with all its
circumstances, and moreover told him, he could find no bridle fit
for the mare. Abdallah bridled the mare himself, and as soon as
King Beder had sent back the groom with the two horses, he said
to him, "My lord, you have no reason to stay any longer in this
city: mount the mare, and return to your kingdom. I have but one
thing more to recommend to you; and that is, if you should ever
happen to part with the mare, be sure not to give up the bridle."
King Beder promised to remember this; and having taken leave of
the good old man, he departed.

The young king of Persia had no sooner got out of the city, than
he began to reflect with joy on his deliverance, and that he had
the sorceress in his power, who had given him so much cause to
tremble. Three days after he arrived at a great city, where,
entering the suburbs, he met a venerable old man, walking towards
a pleasure- house. "Sir," said the old man, stopping him, "may I
presume to ask from what part of the world you come?" The king
halted to satisfy him, and as they were conversing together, an
old woman came up; who, stopping likewise, wept and sighed
heavily at the sight of the mare.

King Beder and the old man left off discoursing, to look at the
old woman, whom the king asked, what cause she had to be so much
afflicted? "Alas ! sir," replied she, "it is because your mare
resembles so perfectly one my son had, and which I still mourn
the loss of on his account, and should think yours were the same,
did I not know she was dead. Sell her to me, I beseech you; I
will give you more than she is worth and thank you too.'

"Good woman," replied King Beder, "I am heartily sorry I cannot
comply with your request: my mare is not to be sold." "Alas!
sir," continued the old woman, "do not refuse me this favour for
the love of God. My son and I shall certainly die with grief, if
you do not grant it." "Good mother," replied the king, "I would
grant it with all my heart, if I were disposed to part with so
good a beast; but if I were so disposed, I believe you would
hardly give a thousand pieces of gold for her, and I could not
sell her for less." "Why should I not give so much?" replied the
old woman: "if that be the lowest price, you need only say you
will take it, and I will fetch you the money."

King Beder, seeing the old woman so poorly dressed, could not
imagine she could find such a sum; and said, to try her, "Go,
fetch me the money, and the mare is yours." The old woman
immediately unloosed a purse she carried fastened to her girdle,
and desiring him to alight, bade him tell over the money, and in
case he found it came short of the sum demanded, she said her
house was not far off; and she could quickly fetch the rest.

The surprise of King Beder, at the sight of the purse, was not
small. "Good woman," said he, "do you not perceive I have
bantered you all this while? I assure you my mare is not to be
sold."

The old man, who had been witness to all that had passed, now
began to speak. "Son," said he to King Beder, "it is necessary
you should know one thing, which I find you are ignorant of; and
that is, that in this city it is not permitted to any one to tell
a lie, on any account whatsoever, on pain of death. You cannot
refuse taking this good woman's money, and delivering your mare,
when she gives you the sum according to the agreement; and this
you had better do without any noise, than expose yourself to what
may ensue."

King Beder, mortified to find himself thus trapped by his rash
proffer, alighted with great regret. The old woman stood ready to
seize the reins, immediately unbridled the mare, and taking some
water in her hand, from a stream that ran in the middle of the
street, threw it in the mare's face, uttering these words,
"Daughter, quit that strange shape, and re-assume thy own." The
transformation was effected in a moment, and king Beder, who
swooned as soon as he saw Queen Labe appear, would have fallen to
the ground, if the old man had not hindered him.

The old woman, who was the mother of queen Labe, and had
instructed her in all her magic secrets, had no sooner embraced
her daughter, than to shew her fury, she in an instant by
whistling, caused to rise a genie of a gigantic form and stature.
This genie immediately took King Beder on one shoulder, and the
old woman with the magic queen on the other, and transported them
in a few minutes to the palace of Queen Labe in the City of
Enchantments.

The magic queen immediately fell upon King Beder, reproaching him
violently. "Is it thus," said she, "ungrateful wretch! that thy
unworthy uncle and thou repay me for all the kindnesses I have
done you? I shall soon make you both feel what you deserve." She
said no more, but taking water in her hand, threw it in his face
with these words, "Quit the form of man, and take that of an
owl." These words were soon followed by the effect, and
immediately she commanded one of her women to shut up the owl in
a cage, and give him neither meat nor drink.

The woman took the cage, but without regarding what the queen had
ordered, gave him both meat and drink; and being old Abdallah's
friend, sent him word privately how the queen had treated his
nephew, and apprised him of her design to destroy both him and
King Beder, that he might take measures to prevent her
intentions, and secure himself.

Abdallah knew no common means would do with Queen Labe: he
therefore whistled in a peculiar manner, and there immediately
arose a giant, with four wings, who presenting himself before
him, asked what he would have?" Lightning," said Abdallah to him
(for so was the genie called), "I command you to preserve the
life of King Beder, son of Queen Gulnare. Go to the palace of the
magic queen, and transport immediately to the capital of Persia
the compassionate woman who has the cage in custody, to the end
she may inform Queen Gulnare of the danger the king her son is
in, and the occasion he has for her assistance. Take care not to
frighten her when you come before her, and acquaint her from me
what she ought to do."

Lightning immediately disappeared, and in an instant reached the
palace of the magic queen. He instructed the woman, lifted her up
into the air, and transported her to the capital of Persia, where
he placed her on the terrace of Gulnare's palace. She descended
into her apartment, and there found Queen Gulnare and Queen
Farasche her mother lamenting their mutual misfortunes. She made
them a profound reverence, and by the relation she gave them,
they soon understood the great need King Beder had of their
assistance.

Queen Gulnare was so overjoyed at the news, that rising from her
seat, she went and embraced the good woman, telling her how much
she was obliged to her for the service she had done her. Then
going immediately out, she commanded the trumpets to sound, and
the drums to beat, to acquaint the city, that the king of Persia
would suddenly return safe to his kingdom. She then went, and
found King Saleh her brother, whom Farasche had caused to come
speedily thither by a certain fumigation. "Brother," said she to
him, "the king your nephew, my dear son, is in the City of
Enchantments, under the power of Queen Labe. Both you and I must
go to deliver him, for there is no time to be lost."

King Saleh forthwith assembled a puissant body of his marine
troops, who soon rose out of the sea. He also called to his
assistance the genii his allies, who appeared with a much more
numerous army than his own. As soon as the two armies were
joined, he put himself at the head of them, with Queen Farasche,
Queen Gulnare, and the princesses, who would all have their share
in this enterprize. They then ascended into the air, and soon
poured down on the palace and City of Enchantments, where the
magic queen, her mother, and all the adorers of fire, were
destroyed in an instant.

Queen Gulnare had ordered the woman who brought the account of
queen Labe's transforming and imprisoning her son, to follow her
close, and bade her, in the confusion, go and seize the cage, and
bring it to her. This order was executed as she wished, and queen
Gulnare was no sooner in possession of the cage, than she opened
it, and took out the owl, saying, as she sprinkled a little water
upon him, "My dear son, quit that strange form, and resume thy
natural one of a man."

In a moment Queen Gulnare, instead of the hideous owl, beheld
King Beder her son. She immediately embraced him with an excess
of joy, her tears supplying more forcibly the place of words. She
could not let him go; and Queen Farasche was obliged to force him
from her in her turn. After her, he was likewise embraced by the
king his uncle and his relations.

Queen Gulnare's first care was to look out for old Abdallah, to
whom she had been obliged for the recovery of the king of Persia;
and who being brought to her, she said to him, "My obligations to
you have been so great, that there is nothing within my power but
I would freely do for you, as a token of my acknowledgment. Do
but inform me in what I can serve you." "Great queen," replied
Abdallah, "if the lady whom I sent to your majesty will but
consent to the marriage I offer her, and the king of Persia will
give me leave to reside at his court, I will spend the remainder
of my days in his service." The queen then turned to the lady who
was present, and finding by her modest shame that she was not
averse to the match proposed, she caused them to join hands, and
the king of Persia and she took care of their fortune.

This marriage occasioned the king of Persia to speak thus to the
queen: "Madam," said he, "I am heartily glad of this match which
your majesty has just made. There remains one more, which I
desire you to think of." Queen Gulnare did not at first
comprehend what marriage he meant; but after a little
considering, she said, "Of yours, you mean, son. I consent to it
with all my heart." Then turning, and looking at her brother's
sea attendants, and the genii who were still present, "Go," said
she, "and traverse both sea and land, to seek the most lovely and
amiable princess, worthy of the king my son, and when you have
found her, come and tell us."

"Madam," replied king Beder, "it is to no purpose for them to
take all that trouble. You have no doubt heard that I have
already given my heart to the princess of Samandal upon the bare
relation of her beauty. I have seen her, and do not repent of the
present I then made her. In a word, neither earth nor sea, in my
opinion, can furnish a princess like her. It is true upon my
declaring my love, she treated me in a way that would have
extinguished any flame less strong than mine. But I hold her
excused; she could not treat me with less rigour, after your
imprisoning the king her father, of which I was the innocent
cause. But the king of Samandal may, perhaps, have changed his
resolution; and his daughter the princess may consent to love me,
when she sees her father has agreed to it."

"Son," replied queen Gulnare, "if only the Princess Jehaun-ara
can make you happy, it is not my design to oppose you. The king
your uncle need only have the king of Samandal brought, and we
shall see whether he be still of the same untractable temper."

Strictly as the king of Samandal had been kept during his
captivity by King Saleh's orders, yet he always had great respect
shewn him. King Saleh caused a chafing-dish of coals to be
brought, into which he threw a certain composition, uttering at
the same time some mysterious words. As soon as the smoke began
to arise, the palace shook, and immediately the king of Samandal,
with King Saleh's officers, appeared. The king of Persia cast
himself at the king of Samandal's feet, and, kneeling, said, "It
is no longer King Saleh that demands of your majesty the honour
of your alliance for the king of Persia; it is the king of Persia
himself that humbly begs that boon; and I persuade myself your
majesty will not persist in being the cause of the death of a
king, who can no longer live if he does not share life with the
amiable Princess Jehaun-ara."

The king of Samandal did not long suffer the king of Persia to
remain at his feet. He embraced him, and obliging him to rise,
said, "I shall be sorry to have contributed in the least to the
death of a monarch who is so worthy to live. If it be true that
so precious a life cannot be preserved without the possession of
my daughter, live, sir, she is yours. She has always been
obedient to my will, and I cannot think she will now oppose it."
Speaking these words, he ordered one of his officers, whom King
Saleh had permitted to attend him, to go for the princess, and
bring her to him immediately.

The princess continued where the king of Persia had left her. The
officer perceived her, and brought her soon with her women. The
king of Samandal embraced her, and said, "Daughter, I have
provided a husband for you; it is the king of Persia, the most
accomplished monarch at present in the universe. The preference
he has given you over all other princesses obliges us both to
express our gratitude."

"Sir," replied the princess Jehaun-ara, "your majesty well knows
I never have presumed to disobey your will: I shall always be
ready to obey you; and I hope the king of Persia will forget my
ill treatment of him, and consider it was duty, not inclination,
that forced me to it."

The nuptials were celebrated in the palace of the City of
Enchantments, with the greatest solemnity, as all the lovers of
the magic queen, who had resumed their pristine forms as soon as
she ceased to live, assisted at them, and came to return their
thanks to the king of Persia, Queen Gulnare, and King Saleh. They
were all sons of kings, princes, or persons of high rank.

King Saleh conducted the king of Samandal to his dominions, and
put him again in possession of his throne. The king of Persia, at
the height of his wishes, returned to his capital with Queen
Gulnare, Queen Farasche, and the princesses; the Queen Farasche
and the princesses continued there till King Saleh came to
reconduct them to his kingdom under the waves of the sea.

             THE HISTORY OF PRINCE ZEYN ALASNAM AND
                    THE SULTAN OF THE GENII.

A sultan of Bussorah, who possessed great wealth, and was well
beloved by his subjects, had no children, which occasioned him
great affliction; and therefore he made presents to all the holy
persons in his dominions, to engage them to beg a son for him of
Heaven: and their prayers being effectual, the queen proved with
child, and was happily delivered of a prince who was named Zeyn
Alasnam, which signifies Ornament of the Statues.

The sultan caused all the astrologers in his kingdom to be
assembled, and ordered them to calculate the infant's nativity.
They found by their observations that he would live long, and be
very brave; but that all his courage would be little enough to
carry him through the misfortunes that threatened him.  The
sultan was not daunted at this prediction: "My son," said he, "is
not to be pitied, since he will be brave: it is fit that princes
should have a taste of misfortunes; for adversity tries virtue,
and they are the better qualified to reign."

He rewarded the astrologers, and dismissed them; and caused Zeyn
to be educated with the greatest care, appointing him able
masters as soon as he was of age to receive their instructions.
In short, he proposed to make him an accomplished prince, when on
a sudden this good sultan fell sick of a disorder, which all the
skill of his physicians could not cure. Perceiving his disease
was mortal, he sent for his son, and among other things advised
him rather to endeavour to be loved, than to be feared by his
people; not to give ear to flatterers; to be as slow in rewarding
as in punishing, because it often happens that monarchs misled by
false appearances, load wicked men with favours, and oppress the
innocent.

As soon as the sultan was dead, prince Zeyn went into mourning,
which he wore seven days, and on the eighth he ascended the
throne, taking his father's seal off the royal treasury, and
putting on his own, beginning thus to taste the sweets of ruling,
the pleasure of seeing all his courtiers bow down before him, and
make it their whole study to shew their zeal and obedience.  In a
word, the sovereign power was too agreeable to him.  He only
regarded what his subjects owed to him, without considering what
was his duty towards them, and consequently took little care to
govern them well.  He revelled in all sorts of debauchery among
the voluptuous youth, on whom he conferred the prime employments
in the kingdom.  He lost all command of his power.  Being
naturally prodigal, he set no bounds to his grants, so that his
women and his favourites insensibly drained his treasury.

The queen his mother was still living, a discreet, wise princess.
She had several times unsuccessfully tried to check her son's
prodigality and debauchery, giving him to understand, that, if he
did not soon take another course, he would not only squander his
wealth, but also alienate the minds of his people, and occasion
some revolution, which perhaps might cost him his crown and his
life.  What she had predicted had nearly happened: the people
began to murmur against the government, and their murmurs had
certainly been followed by a general revolt, had not the queen
had the address to prevent it.  That princess being acquainted
with the ill posture of affairs, informed the sultan, who at last
suffered himself to be prevailed upon.  He committed the
government to discreet aged men, who knew how to keep the people
within the bounds of duty.

Zeyn, seeing all his wealth consumed, repented that he had made
no better use of it.  He fell into a profound melancholy, and
nothing could comfort him.  One night he saw in a dream a
venerable old man coming towards him, who with a smiling
countenance said, "Know, Zeyn, that there is no sorrow but what
is followed by mirth, no misfortune but what in the end brings
some happiness.  If you desire to see the end of your affliction,
set out for Egypt, go to Grand Cairo, where great prosperity
awaits you."

The young sultan was struck with his dream, and spoke of it very
seriously to his mother, who only laughed at it.  "My son," said
she to him, "would you go into Egypt on the faith of an illusive
dream?"  "Why not, madam," answered Zeyn, "do you imagine all
dreams are chimerical?  No, no, some of them are mysterious.  My
preceptors have told me a thousand incidents, which will not
permit me to doubt of it.  Besides, though I were not otherwise
convinced, I could not forbear giving some credit to my dreams.
The old man who appeared to me had something supernatural, he was
not one of those men whom nothing but age makes venerable; there
appeared a divine air about his person.  In short, he was such a
one as our great prophet is represented; and if you will have me
tell you what I think, I believe it was he, who, pitying my
affliction, designs to relieve it. I rely on the confidence he
has inspired me with.  I am full of his promises, and have
resolved to follow his advice."  The queen endeavoured to
dissuade him, but in vain.  The sultan committed to her the
government of the kingdom, set out one night very privately from
his palace, and took the road to Cairo, without suffering any
person to attend him.

After much trouble and fatigue, he arrived at that famous city,
like which there are few in the world, either for extent or
beauty.  He alighted at the gate of a mosque, where, being spent
with weariness, he lay down.  No sooner was he fallen asleep,
than he saw the same old man, who said to him, "I am pleased with
you, my son, you have given credit to my words.  You are come
hither, without being deterred by the length or the difficulties
of the way: but know I have not put you upon undertaking such a
long journey, with any other design than to try you.  I find you
have courage and resolution.  You deserve I should make you the
richest and happiest prince in the world.  Return to Bussorah,
and you shall find immense wealth in your palace.  No king ever
possessed so rich a treasure."

The sultan was not pleased with this dream.  "Alas!" thought he
to himself, when he awoke, "how much was I mistaken?  That old
man, whom I took for our prophet, is no other than the production
of my disturbed imagination.  My fancy was so full of him, that
it is no wonder I have seen him again.  I had best return to
Bussorah; what should I do here any longer?  It is fortunate that
I told none but my mother the motive of my journey: I should
become a jest to my people, if they knew it."

Accordingly, he set out again for his kingdom, and as soon as he
arrived there, the queen asked him, whether he returned well
pleased?  He told her all that had happened, and was so much
concerned for having been so credulous, that the queen, instead
of adding to his vexation, by reproving or laughing at him,
comforted him. "Forbear afflicting yourself, my son," said she;
"if God has appointed you riches, you will have them without any
trouble.  Be contented; all that I recommend to you is, to be
virtuous; renounce the delights of dancing, music, and wine: shun
all these pleasures, they have already almost ruined you; apply
yourself to make your subjects happy; by securing their
happiness, you will establish your own."

Sultan Zeyn vowed that he would for the future follow his
mother's advice, and be directed by the wise viziers she had
chosen to assist him in supporting the weight of government.  But
the very night after he returned to his palace, he saw the old
man the third time in a dream, who said to him, "The time of your
prosperity is come, brave Zeyn: to-morrow morning, as soon as you
are up, take a little pick-axe, and dig in the late sultan's
closet; you will there find a rich treasure."

As soon as the sultan awoke, he got up, ran to the queen's
apartment, and with much eagerness told her the new dream of that
night.  "Really, my son," said the queen smiling, "this is a very
positive old man; he is not satisfied with having deceived you
twice: have you a mind to believe him again?"  "No, madam,"
answered Zeyn, "I give no credit to what he has said; but I will,
for my own satisfaction, search my father's closet."  "I really
fancied so," cried the queen, laughing heartily: "go, my son,
satisfy yourself; my comfort is, that work is not so fatiguing as
the journey to Egypt."

"Well madam," answered the sultan, "I must own, that this third
dream has restored my confidence, for it is connected with the
two others; let us examine the old man's words.  He first
directed me to go into Egypt; there he told me, he had put me
upon taking that journey, only to try me.  'Return to Bussorah,'
said he, 'that is the place where you are to find treasures;'
this night he has exactly pointed out to me the place where they
are: these three dreams in my opinion, are connected.  After all,
they may be chimerical: but I would rather search in vain, than
blame myself as long as I live, for having perhaps missed great
riches, by being unseasonably incredulous."

Having spoken thus, he left the queen's apartment, caused a
pick-axe to be brought him, and went alone into the late sultan's
closet.  He immediately began to break up the ground, and took up
above half the square stones it was paved with, but yet saw not
the least appearance of what he sought.  He ceased working to
take a little rest, thinking within himself, "I am much afraid my
mother had cause enough to laugh at me."  However, he took heart,
and went on with his labour, nor had he cause to repent; for on a
sudden he discovered a white slab, which he took up, and under it
found a door, made fast with a steel padlock, which he broke with
the pick-axe, and opened the door, which covered a staircase of
white marble.  He immediately lighted a lamp, and went down the
stairs into a room, the floor whereof was laid with tiles of
chinaware, and the roof and walls were of crystal; but he
particularly fixed his eyes on four shelves, a little raised
above the rest of the floor, on each of which were ten urns of
porphyry.  He fancied they were full of wine: "Well," said he,
"that wine must be very old, I do not question but it is
excellent."  He went up to one of the urns, took off the cover,
and with no less joy than surprise perceived it was full of
pieces of gold.  He searched all the forty, one after another,
and found them full of the same coin, took out a handful, and
carried it to the queen.

The princess, it may be imagined, was amazed, when the sultan
gave her an account of what he had discovered.  "O! my son," said
she, "take heed you do not lavish away all this wealth foolishly,
as you have already done the royal treasure.  Let not your
enemies have so much occasion to rejoice."  "No, madam," answered
Zeyn, "I will from henceforward live in such a manner as shall be
pleasing to you."

The queen desired her son to conduct her to the wonderful
subterraneous place, which the late sultan her husband had made
with such secrecy, that she had never heard of it.  Zeyn led her
to the closet, down the marble stairs, and into the chamber where
the urns were.  She observed every thing with the eye of
curiosity, and in a corner spied a little urn of the same sort of
stone as the others.  The prince had not before taken notice of
it, but opening, found in it a golden key.  "My son," said the
queen, "this key certainly belongs to some other treasure; let us
search well, perhaps we may discover the use it is designed for."

They examined the chamber with the utmost exactness, and at
length found a key-hole in one of the panels of the wall.  The
sultan immediately tried, and as readily opened the door, which
led into a chamber, in the midst of which were nine pedestals of
massive gold, on eight of which stood as many statues, each of
them made of a single diamond, and from them darted such a
brightness, that the whole room was perfectly light.

"O Heavens!" cried Zeyn, in astonishment, "where could my father
find such rarities?"  The ninth pedestal redoubled this
amazement, for it was covered with a piece of white satin, on
which were written these words, "Dear son, it cost me much toil
to procure these eight statues; but though they are
extraordinarily beautiful, you must understand that there is a
ninth in the world, which surpasses them all: that alone is worth
more than a thousand such as these: if you desire to be master of
it, go to the city of Cairo in Egypt; one of my old slaves, whose
name is Mobarec, lives there, you will easily find him; the first
person you meet will shew you his house; visit him, and tell him
all that has befallen you: he will know you to be my son, and
conduct you to the place where that wonderful statue is, which
you will obtain with safety."

The young sultan having read these words, said to the queen, "I
should be sorry to be without that ninth statue; it must
certainly be a very rare piece, since all these together are not
of so much value.  I will set out for Grand Cairo; nor do I
believe, madam, that you will now oppose my design."  "No, my
son," answered the queen, "I am not against it: you are certainly
under the special protection of our great prophet, he will not
suffer you to perish in this journey.  Set out when you think
fit: your viziers and I will take care of the government during
your absence." The prince made ready his equipage, but would take
only a small number of slaves with him.

Nothing remarkable befell him by the way, but arriving at Cairo,
he inquired for Mobarec.  The people told him he was one of the
wealthiest inhabitants of the city; that he lived like a great
lord, and that his house was open, especially for strangers.
Zeyn was conducted thither, knocked at the gate, which a slave
opened, and demanded, "What is it you want, and who are you?"  "I
am a stranger," answered the prince, "and having heard much of
the lord Mobarec's generosity, am come to take up my lodging with
him."  The slave desired Zeyn to wait while he went to acquaint
his master, who ordered him to request the stranger to walk in.
The slave returned to the gate, and told the prince he was
welcome.

Zeyn went in, crossed a large court, and entered a hall
magnificently furnished, where Mobarec expected him, and received
him very courteously, returning thanks for the honour he did him
in accepting a lodging in his house.  The prince, having answered
his compliment, said to Mobarec, "I am the son of the late sultan
of Bussorah, and my name is Zeyn Alasnam."  "That sovereign,"
said Mobarec, "was formerly my master; but, my lord, I never knew
of any children he had: what is your age?"  "I am twenty years
old," answered the sultan.  "How long is it since you left my
father's court?"  "Almost two-and-twenty years," replied Mobarec;
"but how can you convince me that you are his son?"  "My father,"
rejoined Zeyn, "had a subterraneous place under his closet, in
which I have found forty porphyry urns full of gold."  "And what
more is there?" said Mobarec.  "There are," answered the prince,
"nine pedestals of massive gold: on eight whereof are as many
diamond statues; and on the ninth a piece of white satin, on
which my father has written what I am to do to procure another
statue, more valuable than all those together.  You know where
that statue is; for it is mentioned on the satin, that you will
conduct me to it."

As soon as he had spoke these words, Mobarec fell down at his
feet, and kissing one of his hands several times, said, "I bless
God for having brought you hither: I know you to be the sultan of
Bussorah's son.  If you will go to the place where the wonderful
statue is, I will conduct you; but you must first rest here a few
days.  This day I treat the great men of the court; we were at
table when word was brought me of your being at the door.  Will
you vouchsafe to come and be merry with us?"  "I shall be very
glad," replied Zeyn, "to be admitted to your feast."  Mobarec
immediately led him under a dome where the company was, seated
him at the table, and served him on the knee.  The nobles of
Cairo were surprised, and whispered to one another, "Who is this
stranger, to whom Mobarec pays so much respect?"

When they had dined, Mobarec directing his discourse to the
company, said, "Nobles of Cairo, do not think much to see me
serve this young stranger in this manner: know that he is the son
of the sultan of Bussorah, my master.  His father purchased me,
and died without making me free; so that I am still a slave, and
consequently all I have of right belongs to this young prince,
his sole heir."  Here Zeyn interrupted him: "Mobarec," said he,
"I declare, before all these lords, that I make you free from
this moment, and that I renounce all right to your person, and
all you possess.  Consider what you would have me do more for
you."  Mobarec kissed the ground, and returned the prince most
hearty thanks.  Wine was then brought in, they drank all day, and
towards evening presents were distributed among the guests, who
departed.

The next day Zeyn said to Mobarec, "I have taken rest enough.  I
came not to Cairo to take my pleasure; my design is to obtain the
ninth statue; it is time for us to set out in search of it."
"Sir," said Mobarec, "I am ready to comply with your desires; but
you know not what dangers you must encounter to make this
precious acquisition."  "Whatsoever the danger may be," answered
the prince, "I have resolved to make the attempt; I will either
perish or succeed.  All that happens in this world is by God's
direction.  Do you but bear me company, and let your resolution
be equal to mine."

Mobarec, finding him determined to set out, called his servants,
and ordered them to make ready his equipage.  The prince and he
then performed the ablution, and the prayer enjoined, which is
called Farz; and that done, they set out.  On their way they took
notice of abundance of strange and wonderful things, and
travelled many days, at length, being come to a delightful spot,
they alighted from their horses. Mobarec then said to all the
servants that attended them, "Do you remain in this place, and
take care of our equipage till we return."  Then he said to Zeyn,
"Now, sir, let us advance by ourselves.  We are near the dreadful
place, where the ninth statue is kept.  You will stand in need of
all your courage."

They soon came to a vast lake: Mobarec set down on the brink of
it, saying to the prince, "We must cross this sea."  "How can
we," answered Zeyn, "when we have no boat?"  "You will see one
appear in a moment," replied Mobarec; "the enchanted boat of the
sultan of the genii will come for us.  But do not forget what I
am going to say to you: you must observe a profound silence: do
not speak to the boatman, though his figure seem strange to you:
whatever extraordinary circumstance you observe, say nothing; for
I tell you beforehand, that if you utter one word when we are
embarked, the boat will sink."  "I shall take care to hold my
peace," said the prince; "you need only tell me what I am to do,
and I will strictly comply."

Whilst they were talking, he spied on a sudden a boat in the
lake, made of red sandal wood.  It had a mast of fine amber, and
a blue satin flag: there was only one boatman in it, whose head
was like an elephant's, and his body like that of a tiger. When
the boat was come up to the prince and Mobarec, the monstrous
boatman took them up one after another with his trunk, put them
into his boat, and carried them over the lake in a moment.  He
then again took them up with his trunk, set them ashore, and
immediately vanished with his boat.

"Now we may talk," said Mobarec: "the island we are in belongs to
the sultan of the genii.  Look round you, prince; can there be a
more delightful spot?  It is certainly a lively representation of
the charming place God has appointed for the faithful observers
of our law.  Behold the fields adorned with all sorts of flowers
and odoriferous plants: admire those beautiful trees whose
delicious fruit makes the branches bend down to the ground; enjoy
the pleasure of those harmonious songs formed in the air by a
thousand birds of as many various sorts, unknown in other
countries."  Zeyn could not sufficiently admire the beauties with
which he was surrounded, and still found something new, as he
advanced farther into the island.

At length they came before a palace built of emeralds,
encompassed by a wide moat, on the banks whereof, at certain
distances, were planted such tall trees, that they shaded the
whole palace. Before the gate, which was of massive gold, was a
bridge, formed of one single shell of a fish, though it was at
least six fathoms long, and three in breadth.  At the head of the
bridge stood a company of genii, of a prodigious height, who
guarded the entrance into the castle with great clubs of China
steel.

"Let us at present proceed no farther," said Mobarec, "these
genii will destroy us: and in order to prevent their coming to
us, we must perform a magical ceremony."  He then drew out of a
purse which he had under his garment, four long slips of yellow
taffety; one he put about his middle, and laid the other on his
back, giving the other two to the prince, who did the like.  Then
Mobarec laid on the ground two large table-cloths, on the edges
whereof he scattered some precious stones, musk, and amber.
Afterwards he sat down on one of the cloths, and Zeyn on the
other; and Mobarec said to the prince, "I shall now, sir, conjure
the sultan of the genii, who lives in the palace that is before
us; may he come in a peaceable mood to us!  I confess I am not
without apprehension about the reception he may give us. If our
coming into this island is displeasing to him, he will appear in
the shape of a dreadful monster; but if he approves of your
design, he will shew himself in the shape of a handsome man.  As
soon as he appears before us, you must rise and salute him,
without going off your cloth; for you would certainly perish,
should you stir from it.  You must say to him, 'Sovereign lord of
the genii, my father, who was your servant, has been taken away
by the angel of death; I wish your majesty may protect me, as you
always protected my father.'  If the sultan of the genii," added
Mobarec, "ask you what favour you desire of him, you must answer,
'I most humbly beg of you to give me the ninth statue.'"

Mobarec, having thus instructed prince Zeyn, began his
conjuration.  Immediately their eyes were dazzled by a long flash
of lightning, which was followed by a clap of thunder.  The whole
island was covered with a thick darkness, a furious storm of wind
blew, a dreadful cry was heard, the island felt a shock, and
there was such an earthquake, as that which Asrayel is to cause
on the day of judgment.

Zeyn was startled, and began to regard these concussions of the
elements as a very ill omen, when Mobarec, who knew better than
he what to judge, began to smile, and said, "Take courage, my
prince, all goes well."  In short, that very moment, the sultan
of the genii appeared in the shape of a very handsome man, yet
there was something of a sternness in his air.

As soon as sultan Zeyn had made him the compliment he had been
taught by Mobarec, the sultan of the genii smiling, answered, "My
son, I loved your father, and every time he came to pay me his
respects, I presented him with a statue, which he carried away
with him.  I have no less kindness for you.  I obliged your
father, some days before he died, to write that which you read on
the piece of white satin.  I promised him to receive you under my
protection, and to give you the ninth statue, which in beauty
surpasses those you have already.  I had begun to perform my
promise to him.  It was I whom you saw in a dream in the shape of
an old man; I caused you to open the subterraneous place, where
the urns and the statues are deposited: I have a great share in
all that has befallen you, or rather am the occasion of all.  I
know the motive that brought you hither; you shall obtain what
you desire.  Though I had not promised your father to give it, I
would willingly grant it to you: but you must first swear to me
by all that is sacred, that you will return to this island, and
that you will bring me a maid who is in her fifteenth year, has
never loved, nor desired to.  She must also be perfectly
beautiful: and you so much a master of yourself, as not even to
desire her as you are conducting her hither."

Sultan Zeyn took the rash oath demanded of him.  "But, my lord,"
said he, "suppose I should be so fortunate as to meet with such a
maid as you require, how shall I know that I have found her?"  "I
own," answered the sultan of the genii, smiling, "that you might
be mistaken in her appearance: that knowledge is above the sons
of Adam, and therefore I do not mean to depend upon your judgment
in that particular: I will give you a looking-glass which will be
more certain than your conjectures.  When you shall have seen a
maiden fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, you need only
look into the glass in which you shall see her figure.  If she be
chaste, the glass will remain clean and unsullied; but if, on the
contrary, it sullies, that will be a certain sign that she has
not always been prudent, or at least that she has desired to
cease to be so.  Do not forget the oath you have taken: keep it
like a man of honour; otherwise I will take away your life,
notwithstanding the kindness I have for you."  Zeyn Alasnam
protested again that he would faithfully keep his word.  The
sultan of the genii then delivered to him a looking-glass,
saying, "My son, you may return when you please, there is the
glass you are to use." Zeyn and Mobarec took leave of the sultan
of the genii, and went towards the lake.  The boatman with the
elephant's head brought the boat, and ferried them over the lake
as he had done before.  They joined their servants, and returned
with them again to Cairo.

The young sultan rested a few days at Mobarec's house, and then
said to him, "Let us go to Bagdad, to seek a maiden for the
sovereign of the genii."  "Why, are we not at Grand Cairo?" said
Mobarec: "shall we not there find beautiful maidens?"  "You are
in the right," answered the prince; "but how shall we explore
where they are?"  "Do not trouble yourself about that," answered
Mobarec; "I know a very shrewd old woman, whom I will entrust
with the affair, and she will acquit herself well."

Accordingly the old woman found means to shew the sultan a
considerable number of beautiful maidens of fifteen years of age;
but when he had viewed them, and came to consult his
looking-glass, the fatal touchstone of their virtue, the glass
always appeared sullied.  All the maidens in the court and city,
who were in their fifteenth year, underwent the trial one after
another, but the glass never remained bright and clear.

When they saw there were no chaste maidens to be found in Cairo,
they went to Bagdad, where they hired a magnificent palace in one
of the chief quarters of the city, and began to live splendidly.
They kept open house; and after all people had eaten in the
palace, the fragments were carried to the dervises, who by that
means had comfortable subsistence.

There lived in that quarter a pedant, whose name was Boubekir
Muezin, a vain, haughty, and envious person: he hated the rich,
only because he was poor, his misery making him angry at his
neighbour's prosperity.  He heard talk of Zeyn Alasnam, and of
the plenty his house afforded.  This was enough for him to take
an aversion to that prince; and it proceeded so far, that one day
after the evening prayer in the mosque, he said to the people,
"Brethren, I have been told there is come to live in our ward a
stranger, who every day gives away immense sums.  How do we know
but that this unknown person is some villain, who has committed a
robbery in his own country, and comes hither to enjoy himself?
Let us take care, brethren; if the caliph should be informed that
such a man is in our ward, it is to be feared he will punish us
for not acquainting him with it.  I declare for my part I wash my
hands of the affair, and if any thing should happen amiss, it
shall not lie at my door." The multitude, who are easily led
away, with one voice cried to Boubekir, "It is your business, do
you acquaint the council with it."  The muezin went home well
pleased, and drew up a memorial, resolving to present it to the
caliph next day.

But Mobarec, who had been at prayers, and heard all that was said
by the muezin, put five hundred pieces of gold into a
handkerchief, made up with a parcel of several silks, and went to
Boubekir's house.  The muezin asked him in a harsh tone what he
wanted.  "Holy father," answered Mobarec with an obliging air,
and at the same time putting into his hand the gold and the silk,
"I am your neighbour and your servant: I come from prince Zeyn,
who lives in this ward: he has heard of your worth, and has
ordered me to come and tell you, that he desires to be acquainted
with you, and in the mean time desires you to accept of this
small present."  Boubekir was transported with joy, and answered
Mobarec thus: "Be pleased, sir, to beg the prince's pardon for
me: I am ashamed I have not yet been to see him, but I will atone
for my fault, and wait on him to-morrow."

Accordingly the next day after morning prayer he said to the
people, "You must know from your own experience, brethren, that
no man is without some enemies: envy pursues those chiefly who
are very rich.  The stranger I spoke to you about yesterday in
the evening is no bad man, as some ill-designing persons would
have persuaded me: he is a young prince, endowed with every
virtue. It behoves us to take care how we give any injurious
report of him to the caliph."

Boubekir having thus wiped off the impression he had the day
before given the people concerning Zeyn, returned home, put on
his best apparel and went to visit the young prince, who gave him
a courteous reception.  After several compliments had passed on
both sides, Boubekir said to the prince, "Sir, do you design to
stay long at Bagdad?"  "I shall stay," answered Zeyn, "till I can
find a maid fifteen years of age, perfectly beautiful, and so
chaste, that she has not only never loved a man, but even never
desired to do so."  "You seek after a great rarity," replied the
muezin; "and I should be apt to fear your search would prove
unsuccessful, did I not know where there is a maid of that
character.  Her father was formerly vizier; but has left the
court, and lived a long time in a lone house, where he applies
himself solely to the education of his daughter.  If you please,
I will ask her of him for you: I do not question but he will be
overjoyed to have a son-in-law of your quality."  "Not so fast,"
said the prince, "I shall not marry the maid before I know
whether I like her.  As for her beauty, I can depend on you; but
what assurance can you give me in relation to her virtue?"  "What
assurance do you require?" said Boubekir.  "I must see her face,"
answered Zeyn; "that is enough to determine my resolution."  "You
are skilled then in physiognomy?" replied the muezin, smiling.
"Well, come along with me to her father's: I will desire him to
let you see her one moment in his presence."

The muezin conducted the prince to the vizier's; who, as soon as
he was acquainted with the prince's birth and design, called his
daughter, and made her take off her veil.  Never had the young
sultan of Bussorah beheld such a perfect and striking beauty.  He
stood amazed; and since he could then try whether the maid was as
chaste as fair, he pulled out his glass, which remained bright
and unsullied.

When he perceived he had at length found such a person as he
desired, he entreated the vizier to grant her to him.
Immediately the cauzee was sent for, the contract signed, and the
marriage prayer said.  After this ceremony, Zeyn conducted the
vizier to his house, where he treated him magnificently, and gave
him considerable presents.  Next day he sent a prodigious
quantity of jewels by Mobarec, who conducted the bride home,
where the wedding was kept with all the pomp that became Zeyn's
quality. When all the company was dismissed Mobarec said to his
master, "Let us begone, sir, let us not stay any longer at
Bagdad, but return to Cairo: remember the promise you made the
sultan of the genii."  "Let us go," answered the prince; "I must
take care to perform it exactly; yet I must confess, my dear
Mobarec, that, if I obey the sultan of the genii, it is not
without reluctance.  The damsel I have married is so charming,
that I am tempted to carry her to Bussorah, and place her on the
throne."  "Alas! sir," answered Mobarec, "take heed how you give
way to your inclination: make yourself master of your passions,
and whatever it costs you, be as good as your word to the sultan
of the genii."  "Well, then, Mobarec," said the prince, "do you
take care to conceal the lovely maid from me; let her never
appear in my sight; perhaps I have already seen too much of her."

Mobarec made all ready for their departure; they returned to
Cairo, and thence set out for the island of the sultan of the
genii.  When they were arrived, the maid who had performed the
journey in a horse-litter, and whom the prince had never seen
since his wedding-day, said to Mobarec, "Where are we?  Shall we
be soon in the dominions of the prince my husband?"  "Madam,"
answered Mobarec, "it is time to undeceive you.  Prince Zeyn
married you only in order to get you from your father: he did not
engage his faith to make you sovereign of Bussorah, but to
deliver you to the sultan of the genii, who has asked of him a
virgin of your character."  At these words, she began to weep
bitterly, which moved the prince and Mobarec.  "Take pity on me,"
said she; "I am a stranger, you will be accountable to God for
your treachery towards me."

Her tears and complaints were of no effect, for she was presented
to the sultan of the genii, who having gazed on her with
attention, said to Zeyn, "Prince, I am satisfied with your
behaviour; the virgin you have brought me is beautiful and
chaste, and I am pleased with the restraint you have put upon
yourself to be as good as your promise to me.  Return to your
dominions, and when you shall enter the subterraneous room, where
the eight statues are, you shall find the ninth which I promised
you.  I will make my genii carry it thither."  Zeyn thanked the
sultan, and returned to Cairo with Mobarec, but did not stay long
in Egypt, for his impatience to see the ninth statue made him
hasten his departure.  However, he could not but often think
regretfully of the young virgin he had married; and blaming
himself for having deceived her, he looked upon himself as the
cause and instrument of her misfortune.  "Alas!" said he to
himself, "I have taken her from a tender father, to sacrifice her
to a genie.  O incomparable beauty! you deserve a better fate."

Sultan Zeyn, disturbed with these thoughts, at length reached
Bussorah, where his subjects made extraordinary rejoicings for
his return.  He went directly to give an account of his journey
to his mother, who was in a rapture to hear that he had obtained
the ninth statue.  "Let us go, my son," said she, "let us go and
see it, for it is certainly in the subterraneous chamber, since
the sultan of the genii told you you should find it there."  The
young sultan and his mother, being both impatient to see the
wonderful statue, went down into the room of the statues; but how
great was their surprise, when, instead of a statue of diamonds,
they beheld on the ninth pedestal a most beautiful virgin, whom
the prince knew to be the same whom he had conducted into the
island of the genii!  "Prince," said the young maid, "you are
surprised to see me here; you expected to have found something
more precious than me, and I question not but that you now repent
having taken so much trouble: you expected a better reward."
"Madam," answered Zeyn, "heaven is my witness, that I more than
once had nearly broken my word with the sultan of the genii, to
keep you to myself. Whatever be the value of a diamond statue, is
it worth the satisfaction of having you mine?  I love you above
all the diamonds and wealth in the world."

Just as he had done speaking, a clap of thunder was heard, which
shook the subterranean place. Zeyn's mother was alarmed, but the
sultan of the genii immediately appearing, dispelled her fear.
"Madam," said he to her, "I protect and love your son: I had a
mind to try, whether, at his age, he could subdue his passions.
I know the charms of this young lady have wrought on him, and
that he did not punctually keep the promise he had made me, not
to desire her; but I am well acquainted with the frailty of human
nature.  This is the ninth statue I designed for him; it is more
rare and precious than the others.  "Live," said he (directing
his discourse to the young prince), "live happy, Zeyn, with this
young lady, who is your wife; and if you would have her true and
constant to you, love her always, and love her only.  Give her no
rival, and I will answer for her fidelity."  Having spoken these
words, the sultan of the genii vanished, and Zeyn, enchanted with
the young lady, the same day caused her to be proclaimed queen of
Bussorah, over which they reigned in mutual happiness to an
advanced age.

           THE HISTORY OF CODADAD, AND HIS BROTHERS.

Those who have written the history of Diarbekir inform us that
there formerly reigned in the city of Harran a most magnificent
and potent sultan, who loved his subjects, and was equally
beloved by them.  He was endued with all virtues, and wanted
nothing to complete his happiness but an heir.  Though he had the
finest women in the world in his seraglio, yet was he destitute
of children.  He continually prayed to heaven for them; and one
night in his sleep, a comely person, or rather a prophet,
appeared to him, and said, "Your prayers are heard; you have
obtained what you have desired; rise as soon as you awake, go to
your prayers, and make two genuflexions, then walk into the
garden of your palace, call your gardener, and bid him bring you
a pomegranate, eat as many of the seeds as you please, and your
wishes shall be accomplished."

The sultan calling to mind his dream when he awoke, returned
thanks to heaven, got up, prayed, made two genuflexions, and then
went into his garden, where he took fifty pomegranate seeds,
which he counted, and ate.  He had fifty wives who shared his
bed; they all proved with child; but there was one called
Pirouzč, who did not appear to be pregnant.  He took an aversion
to this lady, and would have her put to death.  "Her barrenness,"
said he, "is a certain token that heaven does not judge Pirouzč
worthy to bear a prince; it is my duty to deliver the world from
an object that is odious to the Lord."  He would have executed
his cruel purpose had not his vizier prevented him; representing
to him that all women were not of the same constitution, and that
it was not impossible but that Pirouzč might be with child,
though it did not yet appear.  "Well," answered the sultan, "let
her live; but let her depart my court; for I cannot endure her."
"Your majesty," replied the vizier, "may send her to sultan
Samer, your cousin."  The sultan approved of this advice; he sent
Pirouzč to Samaria, with a letter, in which he ordered his cousin
to treat her well, and, in case she proved with child, to give
him notice of her being brought to bed.

No sooner was Pirouzč arrived in that country, than it appeared
that she was pregnant, and at length she was delivered of a most
beautiful prince.  The prince of Samaria wrote immediately to the
sultan of Harran, to acquaint him with the birth of a son, and to
congratulate him on the occasion.  The sultan was much rejoiced
at this intelligence, and answered prince Samer as follows:
"Cousin, all my other wives have each been delivered of a prince.
I desire you to educate that of Pirouzč, to give him the name of
Codadad, and to send him to me when I may apply for him."

The prince of Samaria spared nothing that might improve the
education of his nephew.  He taught him to ride, draw the bow,
and all other accomplishments becoming the son of a sovereign; so
that Codadad, at eighteen years of age, was looked upon as a
prodigy.  The young prince, being inspired with a courage worthy
of his birth, said one day to his mother, "Madam, I begin to grow
weary of Samaria; I feel a passion for glory; give me leave to
seek it amidst the perils of war.  My father, the sultan of
Harran, has many enemies.  Why does he not call me to his
assistance?  Why does he leave me here so long in obscurity?
Must I spend my life in sloth, when all my brothers have the
happiness to be fighting by his side?"  "My son," answered
Pirouzč, "I am no less impatient to have your name become famous;
I could wish you had already signalized yourself against your
father's enemies; but we must wait till he requires it."  "No,
madam," replied Codadad, "I have already waited but too long.  I
burn to see the sultan, and am tempted to offer him my service,
as a young stranger: no doubt but he will accept of it, and I
will not discover myself, till I have performed some glorious
actions: I desire to merit his esteem before he knows who I am."
Pirouzč approved of his generous resolutions, and Codadad
departed from Samaria, as if he had been going to the chase,
without acquainting prince Samer, lest he should thwart his
design.

He was mounted on a white charger, who had a bit and shoes of
gold, his housing was of blue satin embroidered with pearls; the
hilt of his scimitar was of one single diamond, and the scabbard
of sandal-wood, adorned with emeralds and rubies, and on his
shoulder he carried his bow and quiver.  In this equipage, which
greatly set off his handsome person, he arrived at the city of
Harran, and soon found means to offer his service to the sultan;
who being charmed with his beauty and promising appearance, and
perhaps indeed by natural sympathy, gave him a favourable
reception, and asked his name and quality.  "Sir," answered
Codadad, "I am son to an emir of Grand Cairo; an inclination to
travel has made me quit my country, and understanding, in my
passage through your dominions, that you were engaged in war, I
am come to your court to offer your majesty my service."  The
sultan shewed him extraordinary kindness, and gave him a command
in his army.

The young prince soon signalized his bravery.  He gained the
esteem of the officers, and was admired by the soldiers.  Having
no less wit than courage, he so far advanced himself in the
sultan's esteem, as to become his favourite.  All the ministers
and other courtiers daily resorted to Codadad, and were so eager
to purchase his friendship, that they neglected the sultan's
sons.  The princes could not but resent this conduct, and
imputing it to the stranger, all conceived an implacable hatred
against him; but the sultan's affection daily increasing, he was
never weary of giving him fresh testimonies of his regard.  He
always would have him near his person; admired his conversation,
ever full of wit and discretion; and to shew his high opinion of
his wisdom and prudence, committed to his care the other princes,
though he was of the same age as they; so that Codadad was made
governor of his brothers.

This only served to heighten their hatred.  "Is it come to this,"
said they, "that the sultan, not satisfied with loving a stranger
more than us, will have him to be our governor, and not allow us
to act without his leave? this is not to be endured.  We must rid
ourselves of this foreigner."  "Let us go together," said one of
them, "and dispatch him."  "No, no," answered another; "we had
better be cautious how we sacrifice ourselves.  His death would
render us odious to the sultan, who in return would declare us
all unworthy to reign.  Let us destroy him by some stratagem.  We
will ask his permission to hunt, and when at a distance from the
palace, proceed to some other city, and stay there some time.
The sultan will wonder at our absence, and perceiving we do not
return, perhaps put the stranger to death, or at least will
banish him from court, for suffering us to leave the palace."

All the princes applauded this artifice.  They went together to
Codadad, and desired him to allow them to take the diversion of
hunting, promising to return the same day.  Pirouzč's son was
taken in the snare, and granted the permission his brothers
desired.  They set out, but never returned.  They had been three
days absent, when the sultan asked Codadad where the princes
were, for it was long since he had seen them.  "Sir," answered
Codadad, after making a profound reverence, "they have been
hunting these three days, but they promised me they would return
sooner."  The sultan grew uneasy, and his uneasiness increased
when he perceived the princes did not return the next day.  He
could not check his anger: "Indiscreet stranger," said he to
Codadad, "why did you let my sons go without bearing them
company?  Is it thus you discharge the trust I have reposed in
you?  Go, seek them immediately, and bring them to me, or your
life shall be forfeited."

These words chilled with alarm Pirouzč's unfortunate son.  He
armed himself, departed from the city, and like a shepherd, who
had lost his flock, searched the country for his brothers,
inquiring at every village whether they had been seen: but
hearing no news of them, abandoned himself to the most lively
grief.  "Alas! my brothers," said he, "what is become of you?
Are you fallen into the hands of our enemies?  Am I come to the
court of Harran to be the occasion of giving the sultan so much
anxiety?"  He was inconsolable for having given the princes
permission to hunt, or for not having borne them company.

After some days spent in fruitless search, he came to a plain of
prodigious extent, in the midst whereof was a palace built of
black marble.  He drew near, and at one of the windows beheld a
most beautiful lady; but set off with no other ornament than her
own charms; for her hair was dishevelled, her garments torn, and
on her countenance appeared all the marks of the greatest
affliction.  As soon as she saw Codadad, and judged he might hear
her, she directed her discourse to him, saying, "Young man,
depart from this fatal place, or you will soon fall into the
hands of the monster that inhabits it: a black, who feeds only on
human blood, resides in this palace; he seizes all persons whom
their ill-fate conducts to this plain, and shuts them up in his
dark dungeons, whence they are never released, but to be devoured
by him."

"Madam," answered Codadad, "tell me who you are, and be not
concerned for myself."  "I am a young woman of quality of Grand
Cairo," replied the lady; "I was passing by this castle
yesterday, in my way to Bagdad, and met with the black, who
killed all my attendants, and brought me hither; I wish I had
nothing but death to fear, but to add to my calamity, this
monster would persuade me to love him, and, in case I do not
yield to-morrow to his brutality, I must expect the last
violence.  Once more," added she, "make your escape: the black
will soon return; he is gone out to pursue some travellers he
espied at a distance on the plain.  Lose no time; I know not
whether you can escape him by a speedy flight."

She had scarcely done speaking before the black appeared.  He was
of monstrous bulk, and of a dreadful aspect, mounted on a large
Tartar horse, and bore such a heavy scimitar, that none but
himself could wield.  The prince seeing him, was amazed at his
gigantic stature, directed his prayers to heaven to assist him,
then drew his scimitar, and firmly awaited his approach.  The
monster, despising so inconsiderable an enemy, called to him to
submit without fighting.  Codadad by his conduct shewed that he
was resolved to defend his life; for rushing upon him, he wounded
him on the knee.  The black, feeling himself wounded, uttered
such a dreadful yell as made all the plain resound.  He grew
furious and foamed with rage, and raising himself on his
stirrups, made at Codadad with his dreadful scimitar.  The blow
was so violent, that it would have put an end to the young
prince, had not he avoided it by a sudden spring.  The scimitar
made a horrible hissing in the air: but, before the black could
have time to make a second blow, Codadad struck him on his right
arm, with such force, that he cut it off.  The dreadful scimitar
fell with the hand that held it, and the black yielding under the
violence of the stroke, lost his stirrups, and made the earth
shake with the weight of his fall.  The prince alighted at the
same time, and cut off his enemy's head.  Just then, the lady,
who had been a spectator of the combat, and was still offering up
her earnest prayers to heaven for the young hero, whom she
admired, uttered a shriek of joy, and said to Codadad, "Prince
(for the dangerous victory you have obtained, as well as your
noble air, convinces me that you are of no common rank), finish
the work you have begun; the black has the keys of this castle,
take them and deliver me out of prison."  The prince searched the
wretch as he lay stretched on the ground, and found several keys.

He opened the first door, and entered a court, where he saw the
lady coming to meet him; she would have cast herself at his feet,
the better to express her gratitude, but he would not permit her.
She commended his valour, and extolled him above all the heroes
in the world.  He returned her compliments; and she appeared
still more lovely to him near, than she had done at a distance.
I know not whether she felt more joy at being delivered from the
desperate danger she had been in, than he for having done so
considerable a service to so beautiful a person.

Their conversation was interrupted by dismal cries and groans.
"What do I hear?" said Codadad: "Whence come these miserable
lamentations, which pierce my ears?"  "My lord," said the lady to
him, pointing to a little door in the court, "they come from
thence.  There are I know not how many wretched persons whom fate
has thrown into the hands of the black.  They are all chained,
and the monster drew out one every day to devour."

"It is an addition to my joy," answered the young prince, "to
understand that my victory will save the lives of those
unfortunate beings.  Come along with me, madam, to partake in the
satisfaction of giving them their liberty.  You may judge by your
own feelings how welcome we shall be to them."  Having so said,
they advanced towards the door of the dungeon, and the nearer
they drew, the more distinctly they heard the lamentations of the
prisoners.  Codadad pitying them, and impatient to put an end to
their sufferings, presently put one of the keys into the lock.
The noise made all the unfortunate captives, who concluded it was
the black coming, according to custom, to seize one of them to
devour, redouble their cries and groans.  Lamentable voices were
heard, which seemed to come from the centre of the earth.

In the mean time, the prince had opened the door; he went down a
very steep staircase into a large and deep vault, which received
some feeble light from a little window, and in which there were
above a hundred persons, bound to stakes, and their hands tied.
"Unfortunate travellers," said he to them,  "wretched victims,
who only expected the moment of an approaching cruel death, give
thanks to heaven, which has this day delivered you by my means.
I have slain the black by whom you were to be devoured, and am
come to knock off your chains."  The prisoners hearing these
words, gave a shout of mingled joy and surprise.  Codadad and the
lady began to unbind them; and as soon as any of them were loose,
they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in a
short time they were all at liberty.

They then kneeled down, and having returned thanks to Codadad for
what he had done for them, went out of the dungeon; but when they
were come into the court, how was the prince surprised to see
among the prisoners, those he was in search of, and almost
without hopes to find!  "Princes," cried he, "am I not deceived?
Is it you whom I behold?  May I flatter myself that it may be in
my power to restore you to the sultan your father, who is
inconsolable for the loss of you?  But will he not have some one
to lament?  Are you all here alive?  Alas! the death of one of
you will suffice to damp the joy I feel for having delivered
you!"

The forty-nine princes all made themselves known to Codadad, who
embraced them one after another, and told them how uneasy their
father was on account of their absence.  They gave their
deliverer all the commendations he deserved, as did the other
prisoners, who could not find words expressive enough to declare
their gratitude.  Codadad, with them, searched the whole castle,
where was immense wealth; curious silks, gold brocades, Persian
carpets, China satins, and an infinite quantity of other goods,
which the black had taken from the caravans he had plundered, a
considerable part whereof belonged to the prisoners Codadad had
then liberated.  Every man knew and claimed his property.  The
prince restored them their own, and divided the rest of the
merchandise among them.  Then he said to them, "How will you
carry away your goods?  We are here in a desert place, and there
is no likelihood of your getting horses."  "My lord," answered
one of the prisoners, "the black robbed us of our camels as well
as our goods, and perhaps they may be in the stables of this
castle."  "This is not unlikely," replied Codadad; "let us
examine."  Accordingly they went to the stables, where they not
only found the camels, but also the horses belonging to the
sultan of Harran's sons.  There were some black slaves in the
stables, who seeing all the prisoners released, and guessing
thereby that their master had been killed, fled through by-ways
well known to them.  Nobody minded to pursue them.  All the
merchants, overjoyed that they had recovered their goods and
camels, together with their liberty, thought of nothing but
prosecuting their journey; but first repeated their thanks to
their deliverer.

When they were gone, Codadad, directing his discourse to the
lady, said, "What place, madam, do you desire to go to?  Whither
were you bound when you were seized by the black?  I intend to
bear you company to the place you shall choose for your retreat,
and I question not but that all these princes will do the same."
The sultan of Harran's sons protested to the lady, that they
would not leave her till she was restored to her friends.

"Princes," said she, "I am of a country too remote from hence;
and, besides that, it would be abusing your generosity to oblige
you to travel so far.  I must confess that I have left my native
country for ever.  I told you that I was a lady of Grand Cairo;
but since you have shewn me so much favour, and I am so highly
obliged to you," added she, looking upon Codadad, "I should be
much in the wrong in concealing the truth from you; I am a
sultan's daughter.  An usurper has possessed himself of my
father's throne, after having murdered him, and I have been
forced to fly to save my life."

Codadad and his brothers requested the princess to tell them her
story, assuring her they felt a particular interest in her
misfortunes, and were determined to spare nothing that might
contribute to render her more happy.  After thanking them for
their repeated protestations of readiness to serve her, she could
not refuse to satisfy their curiosity, and began the recital of
her adventures in the following manner.

The History of the Princess of Deryabar.

There was in a certain island a great city called Deryabar,
governed by a potent, magnificent, and virtuous sultan, who had
no children, which was the only blessing wanting to make him
happy.  He continually addressed his prayers to heaven, but
heaven only partially granted his requests, for the queen his
wife, after a long expectation, brought forth a daughter.

I am the unfortunate princess; my father was rather grieved than
pleased at my birth; but he submitted to the will of God, and
caused me to be educated with all possible care, being resolved,
since he had no son, to teach me the art of ruling, that I might
supply his place after his death.

One day when he was taking the diversion of hunting, he espied a
wild ass, which he chased, lost his company, and was carried away
so far by his eagerness as to ride on till night.  He then
alighted, and sat down at the entrance of a wood, in which the
ass had sheltered.  No sooner was the day shut in than he
discovered among the trees a light, which made him conclude that
he was not far from some village; he rejoiced at this, hoping
that he might pass the night there, and find some person to send
to his followers and acquaint them where he was; accordingly he
rose and walked towards the light, which served to guide him.

He soon found he had been deceived, the light being no other than
a fire blazing in a hut; however, he drew near, and, with
amazement, beheld a black man, or rather a giant, sitting on a
sofa.  Before the monster was a great pitcher of wine, and he was
roasting an ox he had newly killed.  Sometimes he drank out of
the pitcher, and sometimes cut slices off the ox and greedily
devoured them.  But what most attracted my father's attention was
a beautiful woman whom he saw in the hut.  She seemed overwhelmed
with grief; her hands were bound, and at her feet was a little
child about two or three years old, who, as if he was sensible of
his mother's misfortunes, wept without ceasing, and rent the air
with his cries.

My father, moved with this pitiable object, thought at first to
enter the hut and attack the giant; but considering how unequal
the combat would be, he stopped, and resolved, since he had not
strength enough to prevail by open force, to use art.  In the
mean time, the giant having emptied the pitcher, and devoured
above half the ox, turned to the woman and said, "Beautiful
princess, why do you oblige me by your obstinacy to treat you
with severity?  It is in your own power to be happy.  You need
only resolve to love, and be true to me, and I shall treat you
with more mildness."  "Thou hideous satyr," answered the lady,
"never expect that time should wear away my abhorrence of thee.
Thou wilt ever be a monster in my eyes."  To these words she
added so many reproaches, that the giant grew enraged.  "This is
too much," cried he, in a furious tone; "my love despised is
turned into rage.  Your hatred has at last excited mine; I find
it triumphs over my desires, and that I now wish your death more
ardently than your enjoyment."  Having spoken these words, he
took the wretched lady by the hair, held her up with one hand in
the air, and drawing his scimitar with the other, was just going
to strike off her head, when the sultan my father let fly an
arrow which pierced the giant's breast, so that he staggered, and
dropped down dead.

My father entered the hut, unbound the lady's hands, inquired who
she was, and how she came thither.  "My lord," said she, "there
are along the sea-coast some families of Saracens, who live under
a prince who is my husband; this giant you have killed was one of
his principal officers.  The wretch fell desperately in love with
me, but took care to conceal his passion, till he could put in
execution the design he had formed of forcing me from home.
Fortune oftener favours wicked designs than virtuous resolutions.
The giant one day surprised me and my child in a by-place.  He
seized us both, and to disappoint the search he well knew my
husband would cause to be made for me, removed from the country
inhabited by those Saracens, and brought us into this wood, where
he has kept me some days.  Deplorable as my condition is, it is
still a great satisfaction to me to think that the giant, though
so brutal, never used force to obtain what I always refused to
his entreaties.  Not but that he has a hundred times threatened
that he would have recourse to the worst of extremities, in case
he could not otherwise prevail upon me; and I must confess to
you, that awhile ago, when I provoked his anger by my words, I
was less concerned for my life than for my honour.

"This, my lord," said the prince of the Saracens' wife, "is the
faithful account of my misfortunes, and I question not but you
will think me worthy of your compassion, and that you will not
repent having so generously relieved me."  "Madam," answered my
father, "be assured your troubles have affected me, and I will do
all in my power to make you happy.  To-morrow, as soon as day
appears, we will quit this wood, and endeavour to fall into the
road which leads to the great city of Deryabar, of which I am
sovereign; and if you think fit, you shall be lodged in my
palace, till the prince your husband comes to claim you."

The Saracen lady accepted the offer, and the next day followed
the sultan my father, who found all his retinue upon the skirts
of the wood, they having spent the night in searching for him,
and being very uneasy because they could not find him.  They were
no less rejoiced to meet with, than amazed to see him with a
lady, whose beauty surprised them.  He told them how he had found
her, and the risk he had run in approaching the hut, where he
must certainly have lost his life had the giant discovered him.
One of his servants took up the lady behind him, and another
carried the child.

Thus they arrived at the palace of my father, who assigned the
beautiful Saracen lady an apartment, and caused her child to be
carefully educated.  The lady was not insensible of the sultan's
goodness to her, and expressed as much gratitude as he could
desire.  She had at first appeared very uneasy and impatient that
her husband did not claim her; but by degrees she lost that
uneasiness.  The respect my father paid her dispelled her
impatience; and I am of opinion she would at last have blamed
fortune more for restoring her to her kindred, than she did for
removing her from them.

In the mean time the lady's son grew up; he was very handsome,
and not wanting ability, found means to please the sultan my
father, who conceived a great friendship for him.  All the
courtiers perceived it, and guessed that the young man might in
the end be my husband.  In this idea, and looking on him already
as heir to the crown, they made their court to him, and every one
endeavoured to gain his favour.  He soon saw into their designs,
grew conceited of himself, and forgetting the distance there was
between our conditions, flattered himself with the hopes that my
father was fond enough of him, to prefer him before all the
princes in the world.  He went farther; for the sultan not
offering me to him as soon as he could have wished, he had the
boldness to ask me of him.  Whatever punishment his insolence
deserved, my father was satisfied with telling him he had other
thoughts in relation to me, and shewed him no further resentment.
The youth was incensed at this refusal; he resented the contempt,
as if he had asked some maid of ordinary extraction, or as if his
birth had been equal to mine.  Nor did he stop here, but resolved
to be revenged on the sultan, and with unparalleled ingratitude
conspired against him.  In short, he murdered him, and caused
himself to be proclaimed sovereign of Deryabar.  The first thing
he did after the murder of my father was to come into my
apartment, at the head of a party of the conspirators.  His
design was either to take my life or oblige me to marry him.  The
grand vizier, however, who had been always loyal to his master,
while the usurper was butchering my father, came to carry me away
from the palace, and secured me in a friend's house, till a
vessel he had provided was ready to sail.  I then left the
island, attended only by a governess and that generous minister,
who chose rather to follow his master's daughter, and share her
misfortunes, than to submit to a tyrant.

The grand vizier designed to carry me to the courts of the
neighbouring sultans, to implore their assistance, and excite
them to revenge my father's death; but heaven did not concur in a
resolution we thought so just.  When we had been but a few days
at sea, there arose such a furious storm, that, in spite of all
the mariners' art, our vessel, carried away by the violence of
the winds and waves, was dashed in pieces against a rock.  I will
not spend time in describing our shipwreck.  I can but faintly
represent to you how my governess, the grand vizier, and all that
attended me, were swallowed up by the sea.  The dread I was
seized with did not permit me to observe all the horror of our
condition.  I lost my senses; and whether I was thrown upon the
coast upon any part of the wreck, or whether heaven, which
reserved me for other misfortunes, wrought a miracle for my
deliverance, I found myself on shore when my senses returned.

Misfortunes very often make us forget our duty.  Instead of
returning thanks to God for so singular a favour shewn me, I only
lifted up my eyes to heaven, to complain because I had been
preserved.  I was so far from bewailing the vizier and my
governess, that I envied their fate, and dreadful imaginations by
degrees prevailing over my reason, I resolved to cast myself into
the sea; I was on the point of doing so, when I heard behind me a
great noise of men and horses.  I looked about to see what it
might be, and espied several armed horsemen, among whom was one
mounted on an Arabian horse.  He had on a garment embroidered
with silver, a girdle set with precious stones, and a crown of
gold on his head.  Though his habit had not convinced me that he
was chief of the company, I should have judged it by the air of
grandeur which appeared in his person.  He was a young man
extraordinarily well shaped, and perfectly beautiful.  Surprised
to see a young lady alone in that place, he sent some of his
officers to ask who I was.  I answered only by weeping.  The
shore being covered with the wreck of our ship, they concluded
that I was certainly some person who had escaped from the vessel.
This conjecture, and my inconsolable condition, excited the
curiosity of the officers, who began to ask me a thousand
questions, with assurances, that their master was a generous
prince, and that I should receive protection at his court.

The sultan, impatient to know who I was, grew weary of waiting
the return of his officers, and drew near to me.  He gazed on me
very earnestly, and observing that I did not cease weeping and
afflicting myself, without being able to return an answer to
their questions, he forbad them troubling me any more; and
directing his discourse to me, "Madam," said he, "I conjure you
to moderate your excessive affliction.  Though heaven in its
dispensations has laid this calamity upon you, it does not behove
you to despair.  I beseech you shew more resolution.  Fortune,
which has hitherto persecuted you, is inconstant, and may soon
change.  I dare assure you, that, if your misfortunes are capable
of receiving any relief, you shall find it in my dominions.  My
palace is at your service.  You shall live with the queen my
mother, who will endeavour by her kindness to ease your
affliction.  I know not yet who you are; but I find I already
take an interest in your welfare."

I thanked the young sultan for his goodness to me, accepted his
obliging offers; and to convince him that I was not unworthy of
them, told him my condition.  I described to him the insolence of
the young Saracen, and found it was enough to recount my
misfortunes, to excite compassion in him and all his officers,
who heard me.  When I had done speaking, the prince began again,
assuring me that he was deeply concerned at my misfortunes.  He
then conducted me to his palace, and presented me to the queen
his mother, to whom I was obliged again to repeat my misfortunes
and to renew my tears.  The queen seemed very sensible of my
trouble, and conceived extreme affection for me.  On the other
hand, the sultan her son fell desperately in love with me, and
soon offered me his person and his crown.  I was so taken up with
the thoughts of my calamities, that the prince, though so lovely
a person, did not make so great an impression on me as he might
have done at another time.  However, gratitude prevailing, I did
not refuse to make him happy, and our nuptials were concluded
with all imaginable splendour.

While the people were taken up with the celebration of their
sovereign's nuptials, a neighbouring prince, his enemy, made a
descent by night on the island with a great number of troops.
That formidable enemy was the king of Zanguebar.  He surprised
and cut to pieces my husband's subjects.  He was very near taking
us both.  We escaped very narrowly, for he had already entered
the palace with some of his followers, but we found means to slip
away, and to get to the seacoast, where we threw ourselves into a
fishing boat which we had the good fortune to meet with.  Two
days we were driven about by the winds, without knowing what
would become of us.  The third day we espied a vessel making
towards us under sail.  We rejoiced at first, believing it had
been a merchant ship which might take us aboard; but what was our
consternation, when, as it drew near, we saw ten or twelve armed
pirates appear on the deck.  Having boarded, five or six of them
leaped into our boat, seized us, bound the prince, and conveyed
us into their ship, where they immediately took off my veil.  My
youth and features touched them, and they all declared how much
they were charmed at the sight of me.  Instead of casting lots,
each of them claimed the preference, and me as his right.  The
dispute grew warm, they came to blows, and fought like madmen.
The deck was soon covered with dead bodies, and they were all
killed but one, who being left sole possessor of me, said, "You
are mine.  I will carry you to Grand Cairo, to deliver you to a
friend of mine, to whom I have promised a beautiful slave.  But
who," added he, looking upon the sultan my husband, "is that man?
What relation does he bear to you?  Are you allied by blood or
love?"  "Sir," answered I, "he is my husband."  "If so," replied
the pirate, "in pity I must rid myself of him: it would be too
great an affliction to him to see you in my friend's arms."
Having spoken these words, he took up the unhappy prince, who was
bound, and threw him into the sea, notwithstanding all my
endeavours to prevent him.

I shrieked in a dreadful manner at the sight of what he had done,
and had certainly cast myself headlong into the sea, but that the
pirate held me.  He saw my design, and therefore bound me with
cords to the main-mast, then hoisting sail, made towards the
land, and got ashore.  He unbound me and led me to a little town,
where he bought camels, tents, and slaves, and then set out for
Grand Cairo, designing, as he still said, to present me to his
friend, according to his promise.

We had been several days upon the road, when, as we were crossing
this plain yesterday, we descried the black who inhabited this
castle.  At a distance we took him for a tower, and when near us,
could scarcely believe him to be a man.  He drew his huge
scimitar, and summoned the pirate to yield himself prisoner, with
all his slaves, and the lady he was conducting.  The pirate was
daring; and being seconded by his slaves, who promised to stand
by him, he attacked the black.  The combat lasted a considerable
time; but at length the pirate fell under his enemy's deadly
blows, as did all his slaves, who chose rather to die than
forsake him.  The black then conducted me to the castle, whither
he also brought the pirate's body, which he devoured that night.
After his inhuman repast, perceiving that I ceased not weeping,
he said to me, "Young lady, prepare to love me, rather than
continue thus to afflict yourself.  Make a virtue of necessity,
and comply.  I will give you till to-morrow to consider.  Let me
then find you comforted for all your misfortunes, and overjoyed
at having been reserved for me."  Having spoken these words, he
conducted me to a chamber, and withdrew to his own, after locking
up the castle gates.  He opened them this morning, and presently
locked them after him again, to pursue some travellers he
perceived at a distance; but it is likely they made their escape,
since he was returning alone, and without any booty, when you
attacked him.

As soon as the princess had finished the recital of her
adventures, Codadad declared to her that he was deeply concerned
at her misfortunes.  "But, madam," added he, "it shall be your
own fault if you do not live at ease for the future.  The sultan
of Harran's sons offer you a safe retreat in the court of their
father; be pleased to accept of it.  You will be there cherished
by that sovereign, and respected by all; and if you do not
disdain the affection of your deliverer, permit me to assure you
of it, and to espouse you before all these princes; let them be
witnesses to our contract."  The princess consented, and the
marriage was concluded that very day in the castle, where they
found all sorts of provisions.  The kitchens were full of flesh
and other eatables the black used to feed on, when he was weary
of feeding on human bodies.  There was also a variety of fruits,
excellent in their kinds; and, to complete their pleasure,
abundance of delicious wine and other liquors.

They all sat down at table; and after having eaten and drunk
plentifully, took with them the rest of the provisions, and set
out for the sultan of Harran's court: they travelled several
days, encamping in the pleasantest places they could find, and
were within one day's journey of Harran, when having halted and
drunk all their wine, being under no longer concern to make it
hold out, Codadad directing his discourse to all his company,
said "Princes, I have too long concealed from you who I am.
Behold your brother Codadad!  I have received my being, as well
as you, from the sultan of Harran, the prince of Samaria brought
me up, and the princess Pirouzč is my mother.  Madam," added he,
addressing himself to the Princess of Deryabar, "do you also
forgive me for having concealed my birth from you?  Perhaps, by
discovering it sooner, I might have prevented some disagreeable
reflections, which may have been occasioned by a match you may
have thought unequal."  "No, sir," answered the princess,  "the
opinion I at first conceived of you heightened every moment, and
you did not stand in need of the extraction you now discover to
make me happy."

The princes congratulated Codadad on his birth, and expressed
much satisfaction at being made acquainted with it.  But in
reality, instead of rejoicing, their hatred of so amiable a
brother was increased.  They met together at night, whilst
Codadad and the princess his wife lay asleep in their tent.
Those ungrateful, those envious brothers, forgetting that had it
not been for the brave son of Pirouzč they must have been
devoured by the black, agreed among themselves to murder him.
"We have no other course to choose," said one of them, "for the
moment our father shall come to understand that this stranger of
whom he is already so fond, is our brother, and that he alone has
been able to destroy a giant, whom we could not all of us
together conquer, he will declare him his heir, to the prejudice
of all his brothers, who will be obliged to obey and fall down
before him."  He added much more, which made such an impression
on their envious and unnatural minds, that they immediately
repaired to Codadad, then asleep, stabbed him repeatedly, and
leaving him for dead in the arms of the princess of Deryabar,
proceeded on their journey for the city of Harran, where they
arrived the next day.

The sultan their father conceived the greater joy at their
return, because he had despaired of ever seeing them again: he
asked what had been the occasion of their stay?  But they took
care not to acquaint him with it, making no mention either of the
black or of Codadad; and only said, that, being curious to see
different countries, they had spent some time in the neighbouring
cities.

In the mean time Codadad lay in his tent weltering in his blood,
and little differing from a dead man, with the princess his wife,
who seemed to be in not much better condition than himself.  She
rent the air with her dismal shrieks, tore her hair, and bathing
her husband's body with her tears, "Alas! Codadad, my dear
Codadad," cried she, "is it you whom I behold just departing this
life?  What cruel hands have put you into this condition?  Can I
believe these are your brothers who have treated you so
unmercifully, those brothers whom thy valour had saved?  No, they
are rather devils, who under characters so dear came to murder
you.  O barbarous wretches! how could you make so ungrateful a
return for the service he has done you?  But why should I
complain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad! I alone am to
blame for your death.  You would join your fate with mine, and
all the ill fortune that has attended me since I left my father's
palace has fallen upon you.  O Heaven! which has condemned me to
lead a life of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a
consort, why did you permit me to find one?  Behold you have now
robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them."

By these and other moving expressions, the afflicted princess of
Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate
Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his
consort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she
espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon.  She was directed
to one, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the
tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he
had been dragged away by some wild beast to be devoured.  The
princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most
affecting manner.  The surgeon was moved and being unwilling to
leave her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return
to the town offering her his house and service.

She suffered herself to be prevailed on.  The surgeon conducted
her to his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was,
treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect.  He used
all his endeavours to comfort her, but it was vain to think of
removing her sorrow, which was rather heightened than diminished.
"Madam," said he to her one day, "be pleased to recount to me
your misfortunes; tell me your country and your condition.
Perhaps I may give you some good advice, when I am acquainted
with all the circumstances of your calamity.  You do nothing but
afflict yourself, without considering that remedies may be found
for the most desperate diseases."

The surgeon's words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the
princess, who recounted to him all her adventures: and when she
had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her; "Madam,"
said he, "you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you
ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and perform what
the name and the duty of a wife require of you.  You are bound to
avenge your husband.  If you please, I will wait on you as your
attendant.  Let us go to the sultan of Harran's court; he is a
good and a just prince.  You need only represent to him in lively
colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers.  I
am persuaded he will do you justice."  "I submit to your
reasons," answered the princess; "it is my duty to endeavour to
avenge Codadad; and since you are so generous as to offer to
attend me, I am ready to set out."  No sooner had she fixed this
resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready,
on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.

They alighted at the first caravanserai they found, and inquired
of the host the news at court.  "It is," said he, "in very great
perplexity.  The sultan had a son, who lived long with him as a
stranger, and none can tell what is become of the young prince.
One of the sultan's wives, named Pirouzč, is his mother; she has
made all possible inquiry, but to no purpose.  All are concerned
at the loss of this prince, because he had great merit.  The
sultan has forty-nine other sons, all by different mothers, but
not one of them has virtue enough to comfort him for the death of
Codadad; I say, his death, because it is impossible he should be
still alive, since no intelligence has been heard of him,
notwithstanding so much search has been made."

The surgeon having heard this account from the host, concluded
that the best course the princess of Deryabar could take was to
wait upon Pirouzč; but that step was not without some danger, and
required much precaution: for it was to be feared, that if the
sultan of Harran's sons should happen to hear of the arrival of
their sister-in-law, and her design, they might cause her to be
conveyed away before she could discover herself to Codadad's
mother.  The surgeon weighed all these circumstances, considered
what risk he might run himself, and therefore, that he might
manage matters with discretion, desired the princess to remain in
the caravanserai, whilst he repaired to the palace, to observe
which might be the safest way to conduct her to Pirouzč.

He went accordingly into the city, and was walking towards the
palace, like one led only by curiosity to see the court, when he
beheld a lady mounted on a mule richly accoutred.  She was
followed by several ladies mounted also on mules, with a great
number of guards and black slaves.  All the people formed a lane
to see her pass along, and saluted her by prostrating themselves
on the ground.  The surgeon paid her the same respect, and then
asked a calender, who happened to stand by him, "Whether that
lady was one of the sultan's wives?"  "Yes, brother," answered
the calender, "she is, and the most honoured and beloved by the
people, because she is the mother of prince Codadad, of whom you
must have heard."

The surgeon asked no more questions, but followed Pirouzč to a
mosque, into which she went to distribute alms, and assist at the
public prayers which the sultan had ordered to be offered up for
the safe return of Codadad.  The people, who were highly
concerned for that young prince, ran in crowds to join their vows
to the prayers of the priests, so that the mosque was quite full.
The surgeon broke through the throng, and advanced to Pirouzč's
guards.  He waited the conclusion of the prayers, and when the
princess went out, stepped up to one of her slaves, and whispered
him in the ear, "Brother, I have a secret of moment to impart to
the princess Pirouzč; may not I, by your means, be introduced
into her apartment?"  "If that secret," answered the slave,
"relate to prince Codadad, I dare promise you shall have audience
of her this very day; but if it concern not him, it is needless
for you to endeavour to be introduced; for her thoughts are all
engrossed by her son, and she will not hear of any other
subject."  "It is only about that dear son," replied the surgeon,
"that I wish to speak to her."  "If so," said the slave, "you
need only follow us to the palace, and you shall soon have the
opportunity."

Accordingly, as soon as Pirouzč was returned to her apartment,
the slave acquainted her that a person unknown had some important
information to communicate to her, and that it related to prince
Codadad.  No sooner had he uttered these words, than Pirouzč
expressed her impatience to see the stranger.  The slave
immediately conducted him into the princess's closet, who ordered
all her women to withdraw, except two, from whom she concealed
nothing.  As soon as she saw the surgeon, she asked him eagerly,
what news he had to tell her of Codadad?  "Madam," answered the
surgeon, after having prostrated himself on the ground, "I have a
long account to give you, and such as will surprise you."  He
then related all the particulars of what had passed between
Codadad and his brothers, which she listened to with eager
attention; but when he came to speak of the murder, the tender
mother fainted away on her sofa, as if she had herself been
stabbed like her son.  Her two women used proper means, and soon
brought her to herself.  The surgeon continued his relation; and
when he had concluded, Pirouzč said to him, "Go back to the
princess of Deryabar, and assure her from me that the sultan
shall soon own her for his daughter-in-law; and as for yourself,
be satisfied, that your services shall be rewarded as liberally
as they deserve."

When the surgeon was gone, Pirouzč remained on the sofa, in such
a state of affliction as may easily be imagined; and yielding to
her tenderness at the recollection of Codadad, "O my son," said
she, "I must never then expect to see you more!  Alas! when I
gave you leave to depart from Samaria, and you took leave of me,
I did not imagine that so unfortunate a death awaited you at such
a distance from me.  Unfortunate Codadad!  Why did you leave me?
You would not, it is true, have acquired so much renown, but you
had been still alive, and not have cost your mother so many
tears."  While she uttered these words, she wept bitterly, and
her two attendants moved by her grief, mingled their tears with
hers.

Whilst they were all three in this manner vying in affliction,
the sultan came into the closet, and seeing them in this
condition, asked Pirouzč whether she had received any bad news
concerning Codadad?  "Alas! sir," said she, "all is over, my son
has lost his life, and to add to my sorrow, I cannot pay him the
funeral rites; for, in all probability, wild beasts have devoured
him."  She then told him all she had heard from the surgeon, and
did not fail to enlarge on the inhuman manner in which Codadad
had been murdered by his brothers.

The sultan did not give Pirouzč time to finish her relation, but
transported with anger, and giving way to his passion, "Madam,"
said he to the princess, "those perfidious wretches who cause you
to shed these tears, and are the occasion of mortal grief to
their father, shall soon feel the punishment due to their guilt."
The sultan having spoken these words, with indignation in his
countenance, went directly to the presence-chamber where all his
courtiers attended, and such of the people as had petitions to
present to him.  They were alarmed to see him in passion, and
thought his anger had been kindled against his people.  Their
hearts were chilled with fear.  He ascended the throne, and
causing his grand vizier to approach, "Hassan," said he, "go
immediately, take a thousand of my guards, and seize all the
princes, my sons; shut them up in the tower used as a prison for
murderers, and let this be done in a moment."  All who were
present trembled at this extraordinary command; and the grand
vizier, without uttering a word, laid his hand on his head, to
express his obedience, and hastened from the hall to execute his
orders.  In the mean time the sultan dismissed those who attended
for audience, and declared he would not hear of any business for
a month to come.  He was still in the hall when the vizier
returned.  "Are all my sons," demanded he, "in the tower?"  "They
are, sir," answered the vizier, "I have obeyed your orders."
"This is not all," replied the sultan, "I have further commands
for you;" and so saying he went out of the hall of audience, and
returned to Pirouzč's apartment, the vizier following him.  He
asked the princess where Codadad's widow had taken up her
lodging?  Pirouzč's women told him, for the surgeon had not
forgotten that in his relation.  The sultan then turning to his
minister, "Go," said he,  "to this caravanserai, and conduct a
young princess who lodges there, with all the respect due to her
quality, to my palace."

The vizier was not long in performing what he was ordered.  He
mounted on horseback with all the emirs and courtiers, and
repaired to the caravanserai, where the princess of Deryabar was
lodged, whom he acquainted with his orders; and presented her,
from the sultan, a fine white mule, whose saddle and bridle were
adorned with gold, rubies, and diamonds.  She mounted, and
proceeded to the palace.  The surgeon attended her, mounted on a
beautiful Tartar horse which the vizier had provided for him.
All the people were at their windows, or in the streets, to see
the cavalcade; and it being given out that the princess, whom
they conducted in such state to court, was Codadad's wife, the
city resounded with acclamations, the air rung with shouts of
joy, which would have been turned into lamentations had that
prince's fatal adventure been known; so much was he beloved by
all.

The princess of Deryabar found the sultan at the palace-gate,
waiting to receive her: he took her by the hand, and led her to
Pirouzč's apartment, where a very moving scene took place.
Codadad's wife found her affliction redouble at the sight of her
husband's father and mother; as, on the other hand, those parents
could not look on their son's wife without being much affected.
She cast herself at the sultan's feet, and having bathed them
with tears, was so overcome with grief, that she was not able to
speak.  Pirouzč was in no better state.  And the sultan, moved by
these affecting objects, gave way to his own feelings, and wept.
All three, mingling their tears and sighs, for some time observed
a silence, equally tender and pitiful.  At length the princess of
Deryabar, being somewhat recovered, recounted the adventure of
the castle, and Codadad's disaster.  Then she demanded justice
for the treachery of the princes.  "Yes, madam," said the sultan,
"those ungrateful wretches shall perish; but Codadad's death must
be first made public, that the punishment of his brothers may not
cause my subjects to rebel; and though we have not my son's body,
we will not omit paying him the last duties."  This said, he
directed his discourse to the vizier, and ordered him to cause to
be erected a dome of white marble, in a delightful plain, in the
midst of which the city of Harran stands.  Then he appointed the
princess of Deryabar a suitable apartment in his palace,
acknowledging her for his daughter-in-law.

Hassan caused the work to be carried on with such diligence, and
employed so many workmen, that the dome was soon finished.
Within it was erected a tomb, which was covered with gold
brocade.  When all was completed, the sultan ordered prayers to
be said, and appointed a day for the obsequies of his son.

On that day all the inhabitants of the city went out upon the
plain to see the ceremony performed, which was after the
following manner.  The sultan, attended by his vizier and the
principal lords of the court, proceeded towards the dome, and
being come to it, he went in and sat down with them on carpets of
black satin embroidered with gold flowers.  A great body of
horse-guards hanging their heads, drew up close about the dome,
and marched round it twice, observing a profound silence; but at
the third round they halted before the door, and all of them with
a loud voice pronounced these words: "O prince! son to the
sultan, could we by dint of sword, and human valour, repair your
misfortune, we would bring you back to life; but the King of
kings has commanded, and the angel of death has obeyed."  Having
uttered these words, they drew off, to make way for a hundred old
men, all of them mounted on black mules, and having long grey
beards.  These were anchorites, who had lived all their days
concealed in caves.  They never appeared in sight of the world,
but when they were to assist at the obsequies of the sultans of
Harran, and of the princes of their family.  Each of these
venerable persons carried on his head a book, which he held with
one hand.  They took three turns round the dome without uttering
a word; then stopping before the door, one of them said, "O
prince! what can we do for thee?  If thou couldst be restored to
life by prayer or learning, we would rub our grey beards at thy
feet, and recite prayers; but the King of the universe has taken
thee away for ever."

This said, the old men moved to a distance from the dome, and
immediately fifty beautiful young maidens drew near to it; each
of them mounted on a little white horse; they wore no veils, and
carried gold baskets full of all sorts of precious stones.  They
also rode thrice round the dome, and halting at the same place as
the others had done, the youngest of them spoke in the name of
all, as follows: "O prince! once so beautiful, what relief can
you expect from us?  If we could restore you to life by our
charms, we would become your slaves.  But you are no longer
sensible to beauty, and have no more occasion for us."

When the young maids were withdrawn, the sultan and his courtiers
arose, and having walked thrice around the tomb, the sultan spoke
as follows: "O my dear son, light of my eyes, I have then lost
thee for ever!"  He accompanied these words with sighs, and
watered the tomb with his tears; his courtiers weeping with him.
The gate of the dome was then closed, and all the people returned
to the city.  Next day there were public prayers in all the
mosques, and the same was continued for eight days successively.
On the ninth the king resolved to cause the princes his sons to
be beheaded.  The people incensed at their cruelty towards
Codadad, impatiently expected to see them executed.  The
scaffolds were erecting, but the execution was respited, because,
on a sudden, intelligence was brought that the neighbouring
princes, who had before made war on the sultan of Harran, were
advancing with more numerous forces than on the first invasion,
and were then not far from the city.  It had been long known that
they were preparing for war, but their preparations caused no
alarm.  This news occasioned general consternation, and gave new
cause to lament the loss of Codadad, who had signalized himself
in the former war against the same enemies.  "Alas!" said they,
"were the brave Codadad alive, we should little regard those
princes who are coming to surprise us."  The sultan, nothing
dismayed, raised men with all possible speed, formed a
considerable army, and being too brave to await the enemy's
coming to attack him within his walls, marched out to meet them.
They, on their side, being informed by their advanced parties
that the sultan of Harran was marching to engage them, halted in
the plain, and formed their army.

As soon as the sultan discovered them, he also drew up his
forces, and ranged them in order of battle.  The signal was given
and he attacked them with extraordinary vigour; nor was the
opposition inferior.  Much blood was shed on both sides, and the
victory remained long dubious; but at length it seemed to incline
to the sultan of Harran's enemies, who, being more numerous, were
upon the point of surrounding him, when a great body of cavalry
appeared on the plain, and approached the two armies.  The sight
of this fresh party daunted both sides, neither knowing what to
think of them: but their doubts were soon cleared; for they fell
upon the flank of the sultan of Harran's enemies with such a
furious charge, that they soon broke and routed them.  Nor did
they stop here; they pursued them, and cut most of them in
pieces.

The sultan of Harran, who had attentively observed all that
passed, admired the bravery of this strange body of cavalry,
whose unexpected arrival had given the victory to his army.  But,
above all, he was charmed with their chief, whom he had seen
fighting with a more than ordinary valour.  He longed to know the
name of the generous hero.  Impatient to see and thank him, he
advanced towards him, but perceived he was coming to prevent him.
The two princes drew near, and the sultan of Harran discovering
Codadad in the brave warrior who had just assisted him, or rather
defeated his enemies, became motionless with joy and surprise.
"Father," said Codadad to him, "you have sufficient cause to be
astonished at the sudden appearance before your majesty of a man,
whom perhaps you concluded to be dead.  I should have been so had
not heaven preserved me still to serve you against your enemies."
"O my son!" cried the sultan, "is it possible that you are
restored to me?  Alas! I despaired of seeing you more."  So
saying he stretched out his arms to the young prince, who flew to
such a tender embrace.

"I know all, my son," said the sultan again, after having long
held him in his arms.  "I know what return your brothers have
made you for delivering them out of the hands of the black; but
you shall be revenged to-morrow.  Let us now go to the palace
where your mother, who has shed so many tears on your account,
expects me to rejoice with us for the defeat of our enemies.
What a joy will it be to her to be informed, that my victory is
your work!"  "Sir," said Codadad, "give me leave to ask how you
could know the adventure of the castle?  Have any of my brothers,
repenting, owned it to you?"  "No," answered the sultan; "the
princess of Deryabar has given us an account of every thing, for
she is in my palace and came thither to demand justice against
your brothers."  Codadad was transported with joy, to learn that
the princess his wife was at the court.  "Let us go, sir," cried
he to his father in rapture, "let us go to my mother, who waits
for us.  I am impatient to dry up her tears, as well as those of
the princess of Deryabar."

The sultan immediately returned to the city with his army, and
re-entered his palace victorious, amidst the acclamations of the
people, who followed him in crowds, praying to heaven to prolong
his life, and extolling Codadad to the skies.  They found Pirouzč
and her daughter-in-law waiting to congratulate the sultan; but
words cannot express the transports of joy they felt, when they
saw the young prince with him: their embraces were mingled with
tears of a very different kind from those they had before shed
for him.  When they had sufficiently yielded to all the emotions
that the ties of blood and love inspired, they asked Codadad by
what miracle he came to be still alive?

He answered, that a peasant mounted on a mule happening
accidentally to come into the tent, where he lay senseless, and
perceiving him alone, and stabbed in several places, had made him
fast on his mule, and carried him to his house, where he applied
to his wounds certain herbs chewed, which recovered him.  "When I
found myself well," added he, "I returned thanks to the peasant,
and gave him all the diamonds I had.  I then made for the city of
Harran; but being informed by the way, that some neighbouring
princes had gathered forces, and were on their march against the
sultan's subjects, I made myself known to the villagers, and
stirred them up to undertake his defence.  I armed a great number
of young men, and heading them, happened to arrive at the time
when the two armies were engaged."

When he had done speaking, the sultan said, "Let us return thanks
to God for having preserved Codadad; but it is requisite that the
traitors, who would have destroyed him, should perish."  "Sir,"
answered the generous prince, "though they are wicked and
ungrateful, consider they are your own flesh and blood: they are
my brothers; I forgive their offence, and beg you to pardon
them."  This generosity drew tears from the sultan, who caused
the people to be assembled and declared Codadad his heir.  He
then ordered the princes, who were prisoners, to be brought out
loaded with irons.  Pirouzč's son struck off their chains, and
embraced them all successively, with as much sincerity and
affection as he had done in the court of the black's castle.  The
people were charmed with Codadad's generosity, and loaded him
with applause.  The surgeon was next nobly rewarded in requital
of the services he had done the princess of Deryabar.

            THE STORY OF ABOU HASSAN, OR THE SLEEPER
                           AWAKENED.

In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at
Bagdad a very rich merchant, who, having married a woman advanced
in years, had but one son, whom he named Abou Hassan, and
educated with great restraint: when his son was thirty years old,
the merchant dying, left him his sole heir, and master of great
riches, amassed together by much frugality and close application
to business. Abou Hassan, whose views and inclinations were very
different from those of his father, determined to make another
use of his wealth; for as his father had never allowed him any
money but what was just necessary for subsistence, and he had
always envied those young persons of his age who wanted for
nothing, and who debarred themselves from none of those pleasures
to which youth are so much addicted, he resolved in his turn to
distinguish himself by extravagancies proportionable to his
fortune. To this end he divided his riches into two parts; with
one half he bought houses in town, and land in the country, with
a resolution never to touch the income of his real estate, which
was considerable enough to live upon .very handsomely, but lay it
all by as he received it. With the other half, which consisted of
ready money, he designed to make himself amends for the time he
had lost by the severe restraint in which his father had always
kept him.

With this intent, Abou Hassan formed a society with youths of his
own age and condition, who thought of nothing but how to make
their time pass agreeably. Every day he gave them splendid
entertainments, at which the most delicate viands were served up,
and the most exquisite wines flowed in profusion, while concerts
of the best vocal and instrumental music by performers of both
sexes heightened their pleasures, and this young band of
debauchees with the glasses in their hands, joined their songs
with the music. These feasts were accompanied by ballets, for
which the best dancers of both sexes were engaged. These
entertainments, renewed every day, were so expensive to Abou
Hassan, that he could not support the extravagance above a year:
and the great sum which he had appropriated to this prodigality
and the year ended together. As soon as he discontinued keeping
this table, his friends forsook him; whenever they saw him they
avoided him, and if by chance he met any of them, and went to
stop them, they always excused themselves on some presence or
other.

Abou Hassan was more affected by this behaviour of his friends,
who had forsaken him so basely and ungratefully, after all the
protestations they had made him, of inviolable attachment, than
by the loss of all the money he had so foolishly squandered. He
went melancholy and thoughtful, his countenance expressive of
deep vexation, into his mother's apartment, and sat down on the
end of a sofa at a distance from her. "What is the matter with
you, son?" said his mother, seeing him thus depressed. "Why are
you so altered, so dejected, and so different from yourself? You
could not certainly be more concerned, if you had lost all you
had. I know you have lived very extravagantly, and believe all
your money is spent; you have still, however, a good estate; and
the reason that I did not so much oppose your irregular way of
living was, that I knew the wise precaution you had taken to
preserve half your property. I do not, therefore, see why you
should plunge yourself into this deep melancholy."

At these words Abou Hassan melted into tears; and in the midst of
his sighs exclaimed, "Ah! mother, I see at last how insupportable
poverty must be; I am sensible that it deprives us of joy, as the
setting of the sun does of light. As poverty makes us forget all
the commendations passed upon us before our fall, it makes us
endeavour to conceal ourselves, and spend our nights in tears and
sorrow. In short, a poor man is looked upon, both by friends and
relations, as a stranger. You know, mother, how I have treated my
friends for this year past; I have entertained them with all
imaginable generosity, till I have spent all my money, and now
they have left me, when they suppose I can treat them no longer.
For my real estate, I thank heaven for having given me grace to
keep the oath I made not to encroach upon that. I shall now know
how to use what is left. But I will, however, try how far my
friends, who deserve not that I should call them so, will carry
their ingratitude. I will go to them one after another, and when
I have represented to them what I have done on their account, ask
them to make up a sum of money, to relieve me, merely to try if I
can find any sentiment of gratitude remaining in them."

"I do not pretend, son," said Abou Hassan's mother, "to dissuade
you from your design; but I can tell you beforehand, that you
have no ground for hope. Believe me, you will kind no relief but
from the estate you have reserved. I see you do not, but will
soon, know those people, who, among persons of your sort, are
generally called friends, and I wish to heaven you may know it in
the manner I desire, for your own good." "Mother," replied Abou
Hassan, "I am persuaded of the truth of what you say, but shall
be more certain of a fact which concerns me so nearly, when I
shall have informed myself fully of their baseness and
insensibility." Abou Hassan went immediately to his friends, whom
he found at home; represented to them the great need he was in,
and begged of them to assist him. He promised to give bonds to
pay them the money they might lend him; giving them to understand
at the same time, that it was, in a great measure, on their
account that he was so distressed. That he might the more
powerfully excite their generosity, he forgot not to allure them
with the hopes of being once again entertained in the same manner
as before.

Not one of his companions was affected with the arguments which
the afflicted Abou Hassan used to persuade them; and he had the
mortification to find, that many of them told him plainly they
did not know him.

He returned home full of indignation; and going into his mother's
apartment, said, "Ah! madam, you were right; instead of friends,
I have found none but perfidious ungrateful wretches, who deserve
not my friendship; I renounce them, and promise you I will never
see them more." He resolved to be as good as his word, and took
every precaution to avoid falling again into the inconvenience
which his former prodigality had occasioned; taking an oath never
to give an inhabitant of Bagdad any entertainment while he lived.
He drew the strong box into which he had put the rents received
from his estates from the recess where he had placed it in
reserve, put it in the room of that he had emptied, and resolved
to take out every day no more than was sufficient to defray the
expense of a single person to sup with him, who, according to the
oath he had taken, was not of Bagdad, but a stranger arrived in
the city the same day, and who must take his leave of him the
following morning.

Conformably to this plan, Abou Hassan took care every morning to
provide whatever was necessary, and towards the close of the
evening, went and sat at the end of Bagdad bridge; and as soon as
he saw a stranger, accosted him civilly invited him to sup and
lodge with him that night, and after having informed him of the
law he had imposed upon himself, conducted him to his house. The
repast with which Abou Hassan regaled his guests was not costly,
but well dressed, with plenty of good wine, and generally lasted
till the night was pretty far advanced; instead of entertaining
his guests with the affairs of state, his family, or business, as
is too frequent, he conversed on different agreeable subjects. He
was naturally of so gay and pleasant a temper, that he could give
the most agreeable turns to every subject, and make the most
melancholy persons merry. When he sent away his guest the next
morning, he always said, "God preserve you from all sorrow
wherever you go; when I invited you yesterday to come and sup
with me, I informed you of the law I have imposed on myself;
therefore do not take it ill if I tell you that we must never see
one another again, nor drink together, either at home or any
where else, for reasons best known to myself: so God conduct
you."

Abou Hassan was very exact in the observance of this oath, and
never looked upon or spoke to the strangers he had once
entertained; if he met them afterwards in the streets, the
squares, or any public assemblies, he affected not to see them,
and turned away to avoid them, that they might not speak to him,
or he have any communication with them. He had acted for a long
time in this manner, when, one afternoon, a little before sunset,
as he sat upon the bridge according to custom, the caliph Haroon
al Rusheed came by, but so disguised that it was impossible to
know him; for that monarch, though his chief ministers and
officers of justice acquitted themselves of their duty very
punctually, would nevertheless inform himself of every thing, and
for that purpose often disguised himself in different ways, and
walked through the city and suburbs of Bagdad, sometimes one way
and sometimes another. That day, being the first of the month, he
was dressed like a merchant of Moussul, and was followed by a
tall stout slave.

As the caliph had in his disguise a grave and respectable
appearance, Abou Hassan, who thought him to be a Moussul
merchant, rose up, and after having saluted him with a graceful
air, said to him, "Sir, I congratulate you on your happy arrival
in Bagdad, I beg you to do me the honour to sup with me, and
repose yourself at my house for this night, after the fatigue of
your journey." He then told him his custom of entertaining the
first stranger he met with. The caliph found something so odd and
singular in Abou Hassan's whim, that he was very desirous to know
the cause; and told him that he could not better merit a
civility, which he did not expect as a stranger, than by
accepting the obliging offer made him; that he had only to lead
the way, and he was ready to follow him.

Abou Hassan treated the caliph as his equal, conducted him home,
and led him into a room very neatly furnished, where he set him
on a sofa, in the most honourable place. Supper was ready, and
the cloth laid. Abou Hassan's mother, who took upon herself the
care of the kitchen, sent up three dishes; the first contained a
capon and four large pullets, which was set in the middle; and
the second and third, placed on each side, contained, one a fat
roasted goose, and the other broiled pigeons. This was all; but
they were good of the kind and well flavoured, with proper
sauces.

Abou Hassan sat down opposite his guest, and he and the caliph
began to eat heartily of what they liked best, without speaking
or drinking, according to the custom of the country. When they
had done eating, the caliph's slave brought them water to wash
their hands: and in the mean time Abou Hassan's mother cleared