Chapter III: Part 3

Being told in what a miserable state the ass was, he was curious to know what passed between him and the ox; after supper, therefore, he went out by moonlight, accompanied by his wife, and sat down near them; on his arrival, he heard the ass say to the ox, “Tell me, brother, what you mean to do when the labourer brings your food to-morrow?--“Mean to do?” replied the ox, “why what you taught me. At first I shall begin to retreat, then put down my horns as yesterday, and pretend to be ill, and almost dying.”--“Take care,” interrupted the ass, “what you are about, lest you destroy yourself; for in coming home yesterday evening, I heard the merchant, our master, say what made me tremble for you.”--“What did you hear?” asked the latter; “conceal nothing from me, I entreat you.”--“Our master,” replied the ass, addressed his labourer in these sad words, ‘Since the ox can neither eat nor support himself, I wish him to be killed to-morrow; we will give his flesh in charity to the poor, and you shall carry his skin, which will be useful to the currier; do not therefore fail to send for the butcher.’ This is what I heard; and the interest I take in your safety, and the friendship I have for you, induces me to mention it, and offer you my opinion on the subject. At first when they bring you beans and chaff, get up and begin eating directly. Our master by this will suppose that you have recovered, and will, without doubt, revoke the sentence for your death; in my opinion, if you act otherwise, it is all over with you.”

This speech produced the intended effect; the ox was much troubled, and lowed with fear. The merchant, who had listened to every thing with great attention, burst into a fit of laughter that quite surprised his wife. “Tell me,” said she, “what you laugh at, that I may join in it.”--“Be satisfied,” he answered, “at hearing me.”--“No, no,” she added, “I wish to know the cause.”--“That satisfaction,” replied the husband, “I cannot afford you: I can only tell you, that I laughed at what the ass said to the ox; the rest is a secret, which I must not reveal.”--“And why not?” asked his wife. “Because, if I tell you, it will cost me my life.”--“You trifle with me,” added she; “this can never be true; and if you do not immediately inform me what you laughed at, I swear, by the great Ruler of the earth, that we will live together no longer.”

In saying this, she went back to the house, shut herself up, and cried the whole night. Her husband slept alone; and finding that she continued in the same state the next day, he said, “How foolish it is to afflict yourself this way: the thing is not worth it, nor can it be of so much consequence to you to know it, as for me to keep it concealed. Think no more of it then, I conjure you.”--“I shall, however, so continue to think of it,” replied she, “that I shall not cease to lament, till my curiosity is satisfied.”--“Do I not seriously tell you,” added he, “that if I were to yield to your foolish importunities, it would cost me my life.” --“Whatever happens rests with God,” said she, “but I shall not alter my mind.”--“I see very plainly,” answered the merchant, “it is not possible to make you submit to reason, and that your obstinacy will kill you; therefore I will call your children, that they may have the satisfaction of seeing you before you die.” He then ordered his family to be present, and sent also for the parents and other relations of his wife; when they were all assembled, he explained to them his motives for calling them together: and requested them to use all their influence with his wife, and endeavour to convince her of the folly of her conduct. She rejected them all, and said she had rather die than give up this point to her husband. Each of her parents urged every argument, and used every persuasion in their power; they told her, that what she wished to know could be of no consequence to her; but they could make no impression either by their authority or eloquence. When her children saw that nothing could alter her resolution, they began to lament most bitterly; the merchant himself knew not what to do. A little while afterwards he was sitting by chance at the door of his house, considering whether he should not even sacrifice himself in order to save his wife, whom he so tenderly loved.

This merchant, my child (continued the vizier, still addressing Scheherazadè) had fifty hens and only one cock, and also a very faithful dog. While he was sitting at the door, meditating what plan to pursue, he saw the dog run towards the cock, who was amusing himself with a hen, and address him in these words: “You will not, O cock, be suffered to live long, if you are not ashamed of being thus employed to-day.” The latter, strutting up to the dog, haughtily answered, “Who shall prevent my doing what I please to-day as well as at other times?”--“Are you ignorant then,” replied the dog, “that our master is in great affliction? His wife wishes him to reveal a secret of such a nature, that the discovery will cost him his life: and it is feared he will be unable to resist her importunities, as the tears of one he so much loves afflict him to such a degree: we are all alarmed at the dangerous situation he is in, while you, insulting our grief, have the impertinence to divert yourself with your hens.”

“Our master is a fool then,” replied the cock; “he has only one wife, and cannot gain his point; while I have fifty, and do just as I please. Let him return to his senses, and he will easily get out of the embarrassment he is in.”--“What would you do?” said the dog.--“What?” answered the cock, “why let him only go into the room where his wife is, and after shutting the door, take a good-sized stick, and give her a handsome beating; I will answer for it she will soon know better, and not worry him to reveal what he ought to keep secret.” The merchant no sooner heard what the cock said, than he got up, and taking rather a large stick, went to his wife, who was still weeping. Having shut the door he applied the remedy so effectually, that she soon exclaimed, “Enough, enough, my husband, leave me, and I will ask no more questions.” On hearing this, and believing that she repented of her ill-timed curiosity, he gave over beating her, and opening the door, all her family came in, heartily glad at finding her more rational, and congratulated her husband on the happy expedient he found out for the purpose. “You deserve, my daughter,” added the grand vizier, “to be treated like the merchant’s wife.”

“Do not, sir,” answered Scheherazadè, “think ill of me if I still persist in my sentiments. The history of this woman does not shake my resolution; I could recount, on the other hand, many others which ought to persuade you not to oppose my design. Pardon me too, if I add, that your opposition will be useless; when paternal tenderness shall have refused the request I make, I will present myself to the sultan.” At length her father, overcome by his daughter’s firmness, yielded to her entreaties: and, although he was much afflicted at not being able to conquer her resolution, he immediately went to Schahriar and announced to him, that Scheherazadè herself would be his bride on the following night.

The sultan was much astonished at the sacrifice of the grand vizier. “Is it possible,” said he, “that you can give up your own child?”--“Sire,” replied the vizier, “she has herself made the offer. The dreadful fate that hangs over her does not alarm her; and she prefers, even to her existence, the honor of being the consort of your majesty, though it be but for one night.” --“Vizier,” said the sultan, “do not deceive yourself with any hopes; for be assured, that in delivering Scheherazadè into your charge to-morrow, it will be with an order for her death; and if you disobey, your own head shall be the forfeit.”--“Although,” answered the vizier, “my heart is distracted at fulfilling your majesty’s commands, although human nature has much to lament, and although I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of this arm.” Schahriar accepted his minister’s offer, and informed him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.

When the grand vizier carried this intelligence to Scheherazadè, she seemed as much rejoiced as if it had been of the most pleasing nature; she thanked her father for obliging her so greatly; and observing him to be much afflicted, she consoled him by saying, that she hoped he would be so far from repenting her marriage with the sultan, that it would become a subject of joy to him for the remainder of his life.

She now occupied herself with the manner in which she should appear before the sultan; but before she went to the palace she called her sister, Dinarzadè, aside, and said, “I am in great want of your assistance, my dear sister, in a very important affair: and I hope you will not refuse me. My father is going to conduct me to the palace as the wife of the sultan. Do not let this news alarm you, but attend rather to what I say. As soon as I shall have presented myself before the sultan, I shall intreat him to suffer you to sleep in the bridal chamber, that I may enjoy, for the last time, your company. If I obtain this favor, as I expect, remember to awaken me to-morrow morning an hour before day-break, and address these words to me: “_If you are not asleep, my sister, I beg of you, till the morning appears, to recount to me one of those delightful stories you know._” I will immediately begin to tell you one; and I flatter myself that by these means I shall free the kingdom from the consternation in which it is.” Dinarzadè promised to do with pleasure what she required.

When the hour of retiring approached, the grand vizier conducted Scheherazadè to the palace, and after introducing her to the sultan’s apartment, took his leave. They were no sooner alone than the sultan ordered her to take off her veil. He was charmed with her beauty; but perceiving her in tears, he demanded the cause of them. “Sire,” answered Scheherazade, “I have a sister, whom I tenderly love, and whose attachment to me is equally strong; I earnestly wish, that she might be permitted to pass the night in this apartment, that we might again see each other, and again take a tender farewell. Will you then consent that I shall have the consolation of giving her this last proof of my affection? Schahriar having agreed to it, they sent for Dinarzadè, who came directly. The sultan passed the night with Scheherazadè on an elevated couch, as was the custom among the eastern monarchs; and Dinarzadè slept at the foot of it on a mattress, prepared for the purpose.

Dinarzadè, having awoke about an hour before day, did not fail to do what her sister had ordered her. “My dear sister,” she said, “if you are not asleep, I entreat you, as it will soon be light, to relate to me one of those agreeable tales you know. It will, alas, be the last time I shall receive that pleasure.”

Instead of returning any answer to her sister, Scheherazadè addressed these words to the sultan; “Will your majesty permit me to indulge my sister in her request?”--“Freely,” replied he. Scheherazadè then desired her sister to attend, and, addressing herself to the sultan, began as follows.

THE STORY OF THE MERCHANT AND THE GENIUS.

There was formerly, Sire, a merchant, who was possessed of great wealth, in land, in merchandize, and in ready money. He had a numerous set of clerks, factors, and slaves; and, from his great extent of commerce, he was from time to time obliged to take various journeys, in order to arrange his affairs in person with his correspondents. Having one day an affair of great importance to settle at a considerable distance from home, he mounted his horse, and with only a sort of cloak-bag behind him, in which he had put a few biscuits and dates, he began his journey. This provision was absolutely necessary, as he was obliged to pass over a desert, where it was impossible to procure any kind of food. He arrived, without any accident, at the place of his destination; and having finished his business, he set out on his return.

On the fourth day of his journey, he felt himself so incommoded by the sun, and the heated surface of the earth, that he turned out of his road, in order to rest and refresh himself under some trees, which he saw at a distance. At the foot of a large walnut-tree he perceived a very transparent and cool fountain. He immediately alighted, and tying his horse to a branch of the tree, sat down on its bank; having first taken some biscuits and dates from his little store. While he was thus satisfying his hunger, he amused himself with throwing about the stones of the fruit with considerable velocity. When he had finished his frugal repast, he washed his hands, his face, and his feet, and repeated a prayer, like a good mussulman.

He had hardly made an end, and was still on his knees, when he saw a genius, white with age, and of an enormous stature, advancing towards him, with a scimitar in his hand; as soon as he was close to him, he said in a most terrible tone: “Get up, that I may kill thee with this scimitar, as thou hast caused the death of my son.” He accompanied these words with a dreadful yell. The merchant, alarmed by the horrible figure of this monster, as well as the words he heard, replied, in trembling accents, “Of what crime, my good lord, alas, can I have been guilty towards you, to deserve the loss of life?”--“I have sworn to kill thee, as thou hast slain my son.”--“Good God,” answered the merchant, “how can I have slain him? I do not know him, nor have I ever seen him?” --“Didst thou not,” replied the monster, “on your arrival here sit down, and take some dates from thy wallet; and after eating them didst thou not throw the stones about on all sides?”--“This is all true,” replied the merchant: “I do not deny it.”--“Well then,” said the other, “I tell thee, thou hast killed my son; for while thou wast throwing about the stones, my son passed by; one of them struck him in the eye, and caused his death, and thus thou hast slain my son.”--“Ah, sir, forgive me,” cried the merchant. “I have neither forgiveness nor mercy,” added the monster; “and is it not just that he who has inflicted death should suffer it?”--“I grant this; yet surely I have not done so: and even if I have, I have done so innocently, and therefore I entreat you to pardon me, and suffer me to live.”--“No, no,” cried the genius, still persisting in his resolution, “I must destroy thee, as thou hast done my son.” At these words he took the merchant in his arms, and having thrown him with his face on the ground, he lifted up his sabre, in order to strike off his head.

The merchant, in the mean time, bathed in tears, protested his innocence, and lamenting his wife and children, tried the most persuasive means to avert his fate. The genius, still holding up the sabre, waited, however, till he had ended his complaints; though it altered not his purpose. “All thy lamentations are vain,” he cried; “were thy eyes to weep blood, it should not prevent my killing thee, as thou hast slain my son.”--“Can nothing then,” replied the merchant, “soften you? Must you shed the blood of a poor innocent being?”--“Yes,” he added, “I am resolved.”

Scheherazadè, at this instant, perceiving it was day, and knowing that the sultan rose early to his prayers, and then to hold a council, broke off. “What a wonderful story,” said Dinarzadè, “have you pitched upon.”--“The conclusion,” answered Scheherazadè, “is still more surprising, as you would confess, if the sultan would suffer me to live another day, and in the morning permit me to continue the relation.”--Schahriar, who had listened with much pleasure to the narration, determined, in his own mind, to wait till to-morrow; intending to order her execution after she had finished her story. Having resolved to defer her death till the following day, he arose, and having prayed, went to the council. [2]

The grand vizier, in the mean time, was in a state of cruel suspense. Unable to sleep, he passed the night in lamenting the approaching fate of his daughter, whose executioner he was compelled to be. Dreading, therefore, in this melancholy situation, to meet the sultan, how great was his surprise in seeing him enter the council-chamber, without giving him the horrible orders he expected.

The sultan spent the day, as usual, in regulating the affairs of his kingdom, and on the approach of night retired with Scheherazadè to his apartment. The next morning, before the day appeared, Dinarzadè did not fail to remind her sister: “My dear sister,” she said, “if you are not asleep, I entreat you, before the morning breaks, to continue your story.” The sultan did not wait for Scheherazadè to ask permission, but said, “Finish the tale of the genius and the merchant: I am curious to hear the end of it.” Scheherazadè immediately went on as follows.

When the merchant, sire, perceived that the genius was about to execute his purpose, he cried aloud, “One word more, I entreat you; have the goodness to grant me a little delay; give me only time to go and take leave of my wife and children, and divide my estates among them, as I have not yet made my will, that they may not be obliged to have recourse to any legal process after my death; and when I have done this, I promise to return to this spot, and submit myself entirely to your pleasure.”--“But if I grant you the respite you demand,” replied the genius, “I fear you will not return.”--“If my oath will assure you of it,” added the merchant, “I swear by the God of heaven and earth, that I will not fail to repair thither.”--“What length of time do you require?” said the genius.--“It will take me a full year to arrange every thing, and enable me to bear, with composure, the loss of life. I therefore promise you, that you shall find me to-morrow twelvemonths under these trees, waiting to deliver myself into your hands.”--“Take thy God to witness of the promise thou hast made me,” said the other. “Again I swear,” replied he, “and you may rely on my oath.” On this the genius left him near the fountain, and immediately disappeared.

The merchant having recovered from his fright, mounted his horse, and continued his journey. But if, on the one hand, he rejoiced at escaping from the great peril he was in, he was, on the other, much distressed, when he recollected the fatal oath he had taken. When he arrived at home, his wife and family received him with signs of the greatest joy; but instead of returning their embraces, he wept so bitterly, that they supposed something very extraordinary had happened. His wife inquired the cause of his tears, and of that grief which appeared so violent. “We were rejoicing,” she said, “at your return, and you alarm us all by the situation we see you in; explain, I entreat you, the cause of your violent sorrow.” --“Alas!” he replied, “how should I feel otherwise, when I have only a year to live?” He then related to them what had passed, and that he had given his word to return, at the end of a year, to receive his death.

When they heard this melancholy tale they were in despair. The wife uttered the most lamentable groans, tearing her hair, and beating her breast; the children made the house resound with their grief; while the father, overcome by affection, mingled his tears with theirs. In short, the whole was a most affecting scene.

The next day the merchant began to settle his affairs, and first of all to pay his debts. He made many presents to his different friends, and large donations to the poor. He set at liberty many of his slaves of both sexes; divided his property among his children; appointed guardians for such as were young; and in returning to his wife all the fortune she brought him, he added as much more as the law would permit.

The year soon passed away, and he was compelled to depart. He took, in his portmanteau, the garment he wished to be buried in; but when he attempted to take leave of his wife and children, his grief quite overcame him. They could not bear his loss, and almost resolved to accompany him, and all perish together. Compelled at length to tear himself away from objects so dear, he addressed these words to them: “In leaving you, my children, I obey the command of God; imitate me, and submit, with fortitude, to this necessity. Remember, that to die is the inevitable destiny of man.” Having said this, he snatched himself away from them, and set out. He arrived at the destined spot on the very day he had promised. He got off his horse, and seating himself by the side of the fountain, with such sorrowful sensations as may easily be imagined, waited the arrival of the genius.

While he was kept in this cruel suspense, there appeared an old man leading a hind, who came near to him. Having saluted each other, the old man said, “May I ask of you, brother, what brought you to this desert place, which is so full of evil genii there is no safety. From the appearance of these trees, one might suppose it was inhabited; but it is, in fact, a solitude, where it is dangerous to stay long.”

The merchant satisfied the old man’s curiosity, and related his adventure. He listened with astonishment to the account, and having heard it, he said, “nothing in the world surely can be more surprising; and you have kept your oath inviolable! In truth I should like to be a witness to your interview with the genius.” Having said this, he sat down near the merchant, and while they were talking, another old man, followed by two black dogs, came in sight. As soon as he was near enough, he saluted them, and inquired the reason of their stay in that place. The first old man related the adventure of the merchant exactly as he had told it; and added, that this was the appointed day, and therefore he was determined to remain, in order to see the event.

The second old man, thinking it also very curious, resolved to do the same; and sitting down, joined in the conversation. He had hardly done so, when a third arrived, and addressing himself to the other two, asked, why the merchant, who was then with them, appeared so melancholy. They related the cause, which seemed to him so wonderful, that he also resolved to be witness to what passed between the genius and the merchant. He therefore sat down with them for this purpose.

They immediately perceived, towards the plain, a thick vapour or smoke, like a column of dust, raised by the wind. This vapour approached them, and then suddenly disappearing, they saw the genius, who, without noticing them, went towards the merchant with his scimitar in his hand; and taking him by the arm, “Get up,” said he, “that I may kill thee, as thou hast slain my son.” Both the merchant and the three old men were so alarmed they began to weep, and fill the air with their lamentations.

When the old man who conducted the hind saw the genius lay hold of the merchant, and about to murder him without mercy, he threw himself at the monster’s feet, and, kissing them, said, “Prince of the genii, I humbly entreat you to suspend your rage, and do me the favor to listen to me. I wish to relate my own history, and that of the hind, which you see; and if you find it more wonderful and surprising than the adventure of this merchant, whose life you wish to take, may I not hope that you will at least remit a third part of the punishment of this unfortunate man.” After meditating some time, the genius answered, “Well then, I agree to it.”

THE HISTORY OF THE FIRST OLD MAN AND THE HIND.

I am now going, said he, to begin my tale, and I request your attention. The hind, whom you see here, is my cousin; nay, more, she is my wife. When I married her, she was only twelve years old; and she ought therefore not only to look upon me as her relation and husband, but even as her father.

We lived together thirty years, without having any children; this, however, was no draw-back upon my kindness and regard. Still my desire of offspring was so great, that for this purpose, and for this only, I purchased a female slave, who bore me a son of great promise and expectation. Soon after, my wife became infected with jealousy, and consequently took a great aversion to both mother and child; yet she so well concealed her sentiments, that I became acquainted with them, alas, too late.

In the mean time my son grew up; and he was about ten years old, when I was obliged to make a journey. I recommended both the slave and the child to my wife, before my departure, as I had no distrust of her, and prayed her to take great care of them during my absence, which would not be less than a year. During this time she endeavoured to satiate her hatred. She applied herself to the study of magic; and when she was sufficiently skilled in that diabolical art to execute the horrible design she meditated, the wretch carried my son to a distant place. When there, by her enchantments, she changed him into a calf, gave him to my steward, and ordered him to bring him up as a calf, which she said she had bought. She was not, however, satisfied with this infamous action, but metamorphosed the slave into a cow, which she also sent to my steward.

Immediately on my return I inquired after my child and his mother. “Your slave is dead,” said she, “and it is now more than two months since I have beheld your son; nor do I know what is become of him.” I was sensibly affected at the death of the slave; but as my son only disappeared, I flattered myself that he would soon be found. Eight months however passed, and he did not return; nor could I learn any tidings of him. In order to celebrate the festival of the great Bairam, which was approaching, I ordered my steward to bring me the fattest cow I had for a sacrifice. He obeyed my commands; and the cow he brought me was my own slave, the unfortunate mother of my son. Having bound her, I was about to make the sacrifice, when at the very instant she lowed most sorrowfully, and the tears even fell from her eyes. This seemed to me so extraordinary, that I could not but feel compassion for her, and was unable to give the fatal blow. I therefore ordered her to be taken away, and another brought.

My wife, who was present, seemed angry at my compassion, and opposed an order which defeated her malice. “What are you about, my husband?” said she, “why not sacrifice this cow? Your steward has not a more beautiful one, nor one more proper for the purpose.” Wishing to oblige my wife, I again approached the cow; and struggling with my pity, which suspended the sacrifice, I was again going to give the mortal blow, when the victim a second time disarmed me by her redoubled tears and moanings. I then delivered the instruments into the hands of my steward. “Take them,” I cried, “and make the sacrifice yourself, the lamentations and tears of the animal have overcome me.”

The steward was less compassionate, and sacrificed her. On taking off the skin we found hardly any thing but bones, though she appeared very fat. “Take her away,” said I to the steward, truly chagrined, “I give her to you to do as you please with; regale both yourself and whomsoever you wish; and if you have a very fat calf, bring it in her place. I did not inquire what he did with the cow, but he had not been gone long, before I saw a remarkable fine calf brought. Although I was ignorant that this calf was my own son, yet I felt a sensation of pity arise in my breast at first sight. As soon also as he perceived me, he made so great an effort to come to me, that he broke his cord. He lay down at my feet, with his head on the ground, as if he endeavoured to excite my compassion, and not have the cruelty to take away his life: striving, in this manner, to make me comprehend that he was my son.

I was still more surprised and affected by this action, than I had been by the tears of the cow. I felt a kind of tender pity, which interested me much for him; or, to speak more correctly, my blood guided me to what was my duty. “Go back.” I cried, “and take all possible care of this calf, and, in its room, bring another directly.”

No sooner did my wife hear this than she exclaimed, “What are you about, my husband? do not, I pray, sacrifice any other than this.” --“Wife,” answered I, “I will not sacrifice him; I wish to favour him, do not you therefore oppose it.”--This wicked woman, however, did not agree to my proposal; she hated my son too much to suffer him to remain in safety; and she continued to demand his sacrifice so obstinately, that I was compelled to yield. I bound the calf, and, taking the fatal knife, was going to bury it in the throat of my son, when he turned his eyes, filled with tears, so persuasively upon me, that I had no power to execute my intention. The knife fell from my hand, and I told my wife I was determined to have another calf. She tried every means to induce me to alter my mind; I continued firm, however, in my resolution, in spite of all she could say; promising, for the sake of appeasing her, to sacrifice this calf at the feast of Bairam on the following year.

The next morning my steward desired to speak with me in private. “I am come,” said he, “to give you some information, which, I trust, will afford you pleasure. I have a daughter, who has some little knowledge of magic; and as I was bringing the calf back yesterday which you were unwilling to sacrifice, I observed, that she smiled at seeing it, and the next moment began to weep. I enquired of her the cause of these two contrary emotions. ‘My dear father,’ she answered, ‘that calf, which you bring back, is the son of our master; I smiled with joy at seeing him still alive, and wept at the recollection of his mother, who was yesterday sacrificed in the shape of a cow. These two metamorphoses have been contrived by the enchantments of our master’s wife, who hated both the mother and the child.’--This,” continued the steward, “is what my daughter said, and I come to report it to you.” Imagine, O Genius, my surprise at hearing these words: I immediately set out with my steward, to speak to his daughter myself. On my arrival I went first to the stable, where my son had been placed; he could not return my caresses; but he received them in a way, which convinced me that he was really my son.

When the daughter of the steward made her appearance, I asked her if she could restore him to his former shape. “Yes,” replied she, “I can.”--“Ah,” exclaimed I, “if you can perform such a miracle, I will make you the mistress of all I possess.”--She then answered with a smile, “You are our master, and I know how much we are bound to you; but I must mention, that I can restore your son to his own form, only on two conditions; first, that you bestow him upon me for my husband; and secondly, that I may be permitted to punish her who changed him into a calf.”--“To the first,” I replied, “I agree with all my heart; I will do still more, I will give you, for your own separate use, a considerable sum of money, independant of what I destine for my son. In short, you shall perceive how I can acknowledge the important service you do me. I agree also to that which regards my wife; a person, who has been capable of so criminal an action, is worthy of punishment. I abandon her to you, do what you please with her; I only entreat you to spare her life.”--“I will treat her then,” she said, “in the same manner as she has treated your son.”--To this I gave my consent, provided she first restored my son to me.

The damsel then took a vessel full of water, and pronouncing over it some words I did not understand, she thus addressed herself to the calf: “O calf, if thou hast been created by the all-powerful Sovereign of the world, as thou now appearest, retain that form; but if thou art a man, and hast been changed by enchantment into a calf, reassume, by permission of thy divine Creator, thy natural figure!”--In saying this she threw the water over him, and he instantly regained his own form.

“My child! my dear child,” I immediately exclaimed, and embraced him with a transport I could not restrain; “it is the Almighty, who hath sent this damsel to us, to destroy the horrible charm with which you were surrounded, and to avenge the evil that has been done to you and your mother. I am sure gratitude will induce you to accept her for a wife, as I have already promised for you.”--He joyfully consented; but before they were united the damsel changed my wife into this hind, which you see here. I wished her to have this form in preference to any other more unpleasant, that we might see her, without repugnance, in our family.

Since this, my son is become a widower, and is now travelling. Many years have passed since I have heard any thing of him; I have therefore now set out with a view to gain some information; and as I did not like to trust my wife to the care of any one during my search, I thought proper to carry her along with me. This is the history of myself and this hind; can any thing be more wonderful?” --“I agree with you,” said the Genius, “and in consequence I grant a third of my pardon to this merchant.”

“As soon as the first old man, Sire, had finished his history,” continued the sultana, “the second, who led the two black dogs, said to the Genius, “I will relate to you what has happened to me and these two dogs which you see, and I am sure you will find my history still more astonishing than that which you have heard. But when I have told it, will you grant to this merchant another third of his pardon?--“Yes,” answered the Genius, “provided your history surpasses that of the hind.” This being settled, the second old man began.”

THE HISTORY OF THE SECOND OLD MAN AND THE TWO BLACK DOGS.

Great Prince of the Genii, you must know, that these two black dogs, which you see here, and myself, are three brothers. Our father left us, when he died, one thousand sequins each. With this sum we all embarked in the same profession; namely, as merchants. Soon after we had opened our warehouse, my eldest brother, who is now one of these dogs, resolved to travel, and carry on his business in foreign countries. With this view he sold all his goods, and bought such other sorts of merchandize as were adapted to the different countries he proposed visiting.

He set out, and was absent a whole year. At the end of this time, a poor man who seemed to me to be asking charity, presented himself at my warehouse, “God help you,” said I.--“And you also,” answered he: “is it possible you do not know me?”--On looking attentively at him, I recognized his person, “Ah, my brother,” I cried, embracing him, “how should I possibly know you in this state?” I made him come in directly, and enquired both after his health and the success of his voyage.--“Do not ask me,” he replied; “in beholding me you see the whole. To enter into a detail of all the misfortunes that I have suffered in the last year, and which have reduced me to the state you see, would only be to renew my affliction.”

I instantly shut up my shop, and neglecting everything else, I took him to the bath, and dressed him in the best apparel my wardrobe afforded. I examined the state of my business, and finding, by my accounts, that I had just doubled my capital, that is, that I was now worth two thousand sequins, I presented him with the half. “Let this, my brother,” I said, “make you forget your losses.” He joyfully accepted the thousand sequins; again settled his affairs; and we lived together as before.

Some time after this, my second brother, which is the other of these black dogs, wished also to dispose of his property. Both his elder brother and myself tried every thing in our power to dissuade him from it, but in vain. He sold all, and with the money he bought such merchandize as he wished for his journey. He took his departure, and joined a caravan. At the end of a year he also returned in the same condition as his brother did. I furnished him with clothes; and as I had gained another thousand sequins, I gave them to him. He directly bought a shop, and continued to exercise his business.

One day both my brothers came to me, and proposed that I should make a voyage with them, for the purpose of traffic. “You have travelled,” said I, rejecting at first their scheme, “and what have you gained? Who will insure, that I shall be more fortunate than you?” In vain did they use every argument they thought could induce me to try my fortune. I still refused to consent to their design. They returned, however, so often to the subject, that, after having withstood their solicitations for five years, I at length yielded.

When it became necessary to prepare for the voyage, and we were consulting on the sort of merchandize to be bought, I discovered that they had consumed their capital and that nothing remained of the thousand sequins I had given to each. I did not, however, reproach them: on the contrary, as my capital was increased to six thousand sequins, I divided the half with them, and said, “We must, my brothers, risk only three thousand sequins, and endeavour to conceal the other in some secure place; that if our voyage be not more successful than those you have already made, we shall, with this sum, be able to console ourselves and begin our former profession. I will give one thousand sequins to each, and keep one myself; and I will conceal the other three thousand in a corner of my house.” We purchased our goods; embarked in a vessel, which we ourselves freighted; and set sail with a favourable wind. After sailing about a month, we arrived, without any accident, at a port, where we landed, and had a most advantageous sale for our merchandize. I, in particular, sold mine so well, that I gained ten for one. We then purchased the produce of that country, in order to traffic with it in our own.

About the time that we were ready to embark on our return, I accidentally met on the sea-shore a female, of a very fine figure, but poorly dressed. She accosted me by kissing my hand, and entreated me most earnestly to permit her to go with me, and take her for my wife. I started many difficulties to such a plan; but at length she said so much to persuade me that I ought not to regard her poverty, and that I should be well satisfied with her conduct, I was quite overcome. I directly procured proper dresses for her, and after marrying her in due form, she embarked with me, and we set sail.

During our voyage, I found my wife possessed of so many good qualities, that I loved her every day more and more. In the meantime my two brothers, who had not traded so advantageously as myself, and who were jealous of my prosperity, began to feel exceedingly envious. They even went so far as to conspire against my life; for one night, while my wife and I were asleep, they threw us into the sea.

My wife proved to be a fairy, consequently possessed of supernatural power; you may therefore imagine she was not hurt. As for myself, I should certainly have perished without her aid. I had hardly, however, fallen into the water before she took me up, and transported me into an island. As soon as it was day the fairy thus addressed me: “You may observe, my husband, that in saving your life, I have not ill rewarded the good you have done me. You must know, that I am a fairy, and being upon the shore when you were about to sail, I felt a great inclination for you. I wished to try the goodness of your heart, and for this purpose I presented myself before you in the disguise you saw. You acted most generously; and I am therefore delighted in finding an occasion of shewing my gratitude: but I am enraged against your brothers, nor shall I be satisfied till I have taken their lives.”

I listened with astonishment to the discourse of the fairy, and thanked her, as well as I was able, for the great obligation she had conferred on me: “But madam,” said I to her, “I must entreat you to pardon my brothers; for although I have the greatest reason to complain of their conduct, yet I am not so cruel as to wish their ruin.” I related to her what I had done for each of them, and my account only increased her anger. “I must instantly fly after these ungrateful wretches,” cried she, “and bring them to a just punishment; I will sink their vessel, and precipitate them to the bottom of the sea.”--“No, beautiful lady,” replied I, “for Heaven’s sake moderate your indignation, and do not execute so dreadful an intention; remember they are still my brothers, and that we are bound to return good for evil.”

I appeased the fairy by these words; and no sooner had I pronounced them, than she transported me in an instant from the island where we were, to the top of my own house, which was terraced, and then disappeared. I descended, opened the doors, and dug up the three thousand sequins which I had hidden. I afterwards repaired to my shop, opened it, and received the congratulations of the merchants in the neighbourhood on my arrival. When I returned home I perceived these two black dogs, which came towards me with a submissive air. I could not imagine what this meant, but the fairy, who soon appeared, satisfied my curiosity. “My dear husband,” said she, “be not surprised at seeing these two dogs in your house; they are your brothers.” My blood ran cold on hearing this, and I enquired by what power they had been transformed into that state. “It is I,” replied the fairy, “who have done it; at least it is one of my sisters, to whom I gave the commission, and she has also sunk their ship; you will lose the merchandize it contained, but I shall recompense you in some other way; as to your brothers, I have condemned them to remain under this form for ten years, as a punishment for their perfidy.” Then informing me where I might hear of her, she disappeared.

The ten years are now completed, and I am travelling in search of her. As I was passing this way I met this merchant, and the good old man, who is leading his hind, and here I staid. This, O Prince of the Genii, is my history; does it not appear to you of a most extraordinary nature?”--“Yes,” replied the Genius. “I confess it is wonderful, and therefore I remit the second third of the merchant’s punishment.”

When the second old man had finished his story the third began, by asking the Genius, as the others had done, if he would forgive the other third of the merchant’s crime, provided his history surpassed the other two, in the singularity and uncommonness of its events: the Genius repeated his former promise.

The third old man, Sire, related his history to the Genius, but as it has not yet come to my knowledge, I cannot repeat it, but I know it was so much beyond the others, from the variety of wonderful adventures it contained, that the Genius was astonished. He had no sooner heard the conclusion than he said, “I grant you the remaining third part of the merchant’s pardon; and he ought to be infinitely obliged to you all for having freed him from his dangerous situation by the relation of your adventures; for without your aid he would not now have been in this world.” Having said this, he disappeared, to the great joy of the whole party.

The merchant did not omit to bestow many thanks upon his liberators. They rejoiced with him at being out of danger, and then bidding him adieu, each went his several way. The merchant returned home to his wife and children, and spent the remainder of his days with them in tranquillity. But, Sire,” added Scheherazadè, “however beautiful those tales, which I have related to your majesty, may be, they are not equal to that of the fisherman.” Dinarzadè, observing that the sultan made no answer, said, “Since there is still some time, my sister, pray recount his history; the sultan, I hope, will not object to it.” Schahriar consented to it, and Scheherazadè went on as follows.

THE HISTORY OF THE FISHERMAN.

There was formerly, Sire, a very old fisherman, who was so poor, that he could barely obtain food for himself, his wife, and three children, of which his family consisted. He went out very early every morning to his employment; and he made it an absolute rule that he would throw his nets only four times a day.

One morning he set out before the moon had disappeared: when he had got to the sea-shore, he undressed himself, and threw his nets. In drawing them to land he perceived a considerable resistance; and began to imagine he should have an excellent haul; at which he was much pleased. But the moment after, finding that instead of fish he had got the body of an ass in his nets, he was much vexed and afflicted at having had so bad a draught. When he had mended his nets, which the weight of the ass had torn in many places, he threw them a second time. He again found considerable resistance in drawing them up, and again he thought they were filled with fish; how great was his disappointment, in discovering only a large pannier or basket, filled with sand and mud. “O fortune!” he exclaimed, in the greatest affliction, and with a melancholy voice, “cease to be enraged against me. Persecute not an unfortunate being, who thus supplicates thee to spare him. I came from home to seek after life, and you announce my death. I have no other trade, by which I can subsist, and even with all my care, I can hardly supply the most pressing wants of my family; but I am wrong to complain of thee, who takest a pleasure in abusing the virtuous, and leaving great men in obscurity, while thou favorest the wicked, and exaltest those who possess no virtue to recommend them.”

Having thus vented his complaints, he angrily threw aside the pannier, and washing his nets from the mud, he threw them a third time. He brought up only stones, shells, and filth. It is impossible to describe his despair, which almost deprived him of his senses. The day now began to break, and like a good mussulman, he did not neglect his prayers, to which he added the following: “Thou knowest, O Lord, that I throw my nets only four times a day; three times have I cast them into the sea, without any profit for my labour. Once more alone remains; and I entreat thee to render the sea favourable, as thou formerly didst to Moses.”

When the fisherman had finished this prayer, he threw his nets for the fourth time. Again he supposed he had caught a great quantity of fish, as he drew them with as much difficulty as before. He nevertheless found none; but discovered a vase of yellow copper, which seemed, from its weight, to be filled with something; and he observed that it was shut up and fastened with lead, on which there was the impression of a seal. “I will sell this to a founder,” said he with joy, “and with the money I shall get for it, I will purchase a measure of corn.”

He had examined the vase on all sides; he shook it, in order to discover whether its contents would rattle. He could hear nothing; and this, together with the impression of the seal on the lead, made him think it was filled with something valuable. In order to find this out, he took his knife, and got it open without much difficulty. He directly turned the top downwards, and was much surprised to find nothing come out: he set it down before him, and while he was attentively observing it, there issued from it so thick a smoke, that he was obliged to step back a few paces. This smoke, by degrees, rose almost to the clouds, and spread itself over both the water and the shore, appearing like a thick fog. The fisherman, as may easily be imagined, was a good deal surprised at this sight. When the smoke had all come out from the vase, it again collected itself, and became a solid body, and then took the shape of a Genius, twice as large as any of the giants. At the appearance of so enormous a monster, the fisherman wished to run away, but his fears were so great, he was unable to move.

“Solomon, Solomon,” cried the Genius, “great prophet of God, pardon, I pray. I will never more oppose your will; but will obey all your commands.”

The fisherman, Sire, had no sooner heard these words spoken by the Genius, than he regained his courage, and said, “Proud spirit, what is this you say? Solomon the prophet of the most High has been dead more than eighteen hundred years. Inform me, I pray, of your history, and on what account you were shut up in this vase?”