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Preface

The stories in the Fairy Books have generally been such as old women in country

places tell to their grandchildren. Nobody knows how old they are, or who told

them first. The children of Ham, Shem and Japhet may have listened to them in

the Ark, on wet days. Hector's little boy may have heard them in Troy Town, for it

is certain that Homer knew them, and that some of them were written down in

Egypt about the time of Moses.

People in different countries tell them differently, but they are always the same

stories, really, whether among little Zulus, at the Cape, or little Eskimo, near the

North Pole. The changes are only in matters of manners and customs; such as

wearing clothes or not, meeting lions who talk in the warm countries, or talking

bears in the cold countries. There are plenty of kings and queens in the fairy

tales, just because long ago there were plenty of kings in the country. A

gentleman who would be a squire now was a kind of king in Scotland in very old

times, and the same in other places. These old stories, never forgotten, were

taken down in writing in different ages, but mostly in this century, in all sorts of

languages. These ancient stories are the contents of the Fairy books.

Now "The Arabian Nights," some of which, but not nearly all, are given in this

volume, are only fairy tales of the East. The people of Asia, Arabia, and Persia

told them in their own way, not for children, but for grown-up people. There were

no novels then, nor any printed books, of course; but there were people whose

profession it was to amuse men and women by telling tales. They dressed the

fairy stories up, and made the characters good Mahommedans, living in Bagdad

or India. The events were often supposed to happen in the reign of the great

Caliph, or ruler of the Faithful, Haroun al Raschid, who lived in Bagdad in 786-808 A.D. The vizir who accompanies the Caliph was also a real person of the

great family of the Barmecides. He was put to death by the Caliph in a very cruel

way, nobody ever knew why. The stories must have been told in their present

shape a good long while after the Caliph died, when nobody knew very exactly

what had really happened. At last some storyteller thought of writing down the

tales, and fixing them into a kind of framework, as if they had all been narrated to

a cruel Sultan by his wife. Probably the tales were written down about the time

when Edward I. was fighting Robert Bruce. But changes were made in them at

different times, and a great deal that is very dull and stupid was put in, and plenty

of verses. Neither the verses nor the dull pieces are given in this book.

People in France and England knew almost nothing about "The Arabian Nights"

till the reigns of Queen Anne and George I., when they were translated into

French by Monsieur Galland. Grown-up people were then very fond of fairy tales,

and they thought these Arab stories the best that they had ever read. They were

delighted with Ghouls (who lived among the tombs) and Geni, who seemed to be

a kind of ogres, and with Princesses who work magic spells, and with Peris, who

are Arab fairies. Sindbad had adventures which perhaps came out of the

Odyssey of Homer; in fact, all the East had contributed its wonders, and sent

them to Europe in one parcel. Young men once made a noise at Monsieur

Galland's windows in the dead of night, and asked him to tell them one of his

marvellous tales. Nobody talked of anything but dervishes and vizirs, rocs and

peris. The stories were translated from French into all languages, and only

Bishop Atterbury complained that the tales were not likely to be true, and had no

moral. The bishops was presently banished for being on the side of Prince

Charlie's father, and had leisure to repent of being so solemn.

In this book "The Arabian Nights" are translated from the French version of

Monsieur Galland, who dropped out the poetry and a great deal of what the

Arabian authors thought funny, though it seems wearisome to us. In this book the

stories are shortened here and there, and omissions are made of pieces only

suitable for Arabs and old gentlemen. The translations are by the writers of the

tales in the Fairy Books, and the pictures are by Mr. Ford.

I can remember reading "The Arabian Nights" when I was six years old, in dirty

yellow old volumes of small type with no pictures, and I hope children who read

them with Mr. Ford's pictures will be as happy as I was then in the company of

Aladdin and Sindbad the Sailor.

The Arabian Nights

In the chronicles of the ancient dynasty of the Sassanidae, who reigned for about

four hundred years, from Persia to the borders of China, beyond the great river

Ganges itself, we read the praises of one of the kings of this race, who was said

to be the best monarch of his time. His subjects loved him, and his neighbors

feared him, and when he died he left his kingdom in a more prosperous and

powerful condition than any king had done before him.

The two sons who survived him loved each other tenderly, and it was a real grief

to the elder, Schahriar, that the laws of the empire forbade him to share his

dominions with his brother Schahzeman. Indeed, after ten years, during which

this state of things had not ceased to trouble him, Schahriar cut off the country of

Great Tartary from the Persian Empire and made his brother king.

Now the Sultan Schahriar had a wife whom he loved more than all the world, and

his greatest happiness was to surround her with splendour, and to give her the

finest dresses and the most beautiful jewels. It was therefore with the deepest

shame and sorrow that he accidentally discovered, after several years, that she

had deceived him completely, and her whole conduct turned out to have been so

bad, that he felt himself obliged to carry out the law of the land, and order the

grand-vizir to put her to death. The blow was so heavy that his mind almost gave

way, and he declared that he was quite sure that at bottom all women were as

wicked as the sultana, if you could only find them out, and that the fewer the

world contained the better. So every evening he married a fresh wife and had her

strangled the following morning before the grand-vizir, whose duty it was to

provide these unhappy brides for the Sultan. The poor man fulfilled his task with

reluctance, but there was no escape, and every day saw a girl married and a wife

dead.

This behaviour caused the greatest horror in the town, where nothing was heard

but cries and lamentations. In one house was a father weeping for the loss of his

daughter, in another perhaps a mother trembling for the fate of her child; and

instead of the blessings that had formerly been heaped on the Sultan's head, the

air was now full of curses.

The grand-vizir himself was the father of two daughters, of whom the elder was

called Scheherazade, and the younger Dinarzade. Dinarzade had no particular

gifts to distinguish her from other girls, but her sister was clever and courageous

in the highest degree. Her father had given her the best masters in philosophy,

medicine, history and the fine arts, and besides all this, her beauty excelled that

of any girl in the kingdom of Persia.

One day, when the grand-vizir was talking to his eldest daughter, who was his

delight and pride, Scheherazade said to him, "Father, I have a favour to ask of

you. Will you grant it to me?"

"I can refuse you nothing," replied he, "that is just and reasonable."

"Then listen," said Scheherazade. "I am determined to stop this barbarous

practice of the Sultan's, and to deliver the girls and mothers from the awful fate

that hangs over them."

"It would be an excellent thing to do," returned the grand-vizir, "but how do you

propose to accomplish it?"

"My father," answered Scheherazade, "it is you who have to provide the Sultan

daily with a fresh wife, and I implore you, by all the affection you bear me, to

allow the honour to fall upon me."

"Have you lost your senses?" cried the grand-vizir, starting back in horror. "What

has put such a thing into your head? You ought to know by this time what it

means to be the sultan's bride!"

"Yes, my father, I know it well," replied she, "and I am not afraid to think of it. If I

fail, my death will be a glorious one, and if I succeed I shall have done a great

service to my country."

"It is of no use," said the grand-vizir, "I shall never consent. If the Sultan was to

order me to plunge a dagger in your heart, I should have to obey. What a task for

a father! Ah, if you do not fear death, fear at any rate the anguish you would

cause me."

"Once again, my father," said Scheherazade, "will you grant me what I ask?"

"What, are you still so obstinate?" exclaimed the grand-vizir. "Why are you so

resolved upon your own ruin?"

But the maiden absolutely refused to attend to her father's words, and at length,

in despair, the grand-vizir was obliged to give way, and went sadly to the palace

to tell the Sultan that the following evening he would bring him Scheherazade.

The Sultan received this news with the greatest astonishment.

"How have you made up your mind," he asked, "to sacrifice your own daughter to

me?"

"Sire," answered the grand-vizir, "it is her own wish. Even the sad fate that awaits

her could not hold her back."

"Let there be no mistake, vizir," said the Sultan. "Remember you will have to take

her life yourself. If you refuse, I swear that your head shall pay forfeit."

"Sire," returned the vizir. "Whatever the cost, I will obey you. Though a father, I

am also your subject." So the Sultan told the grand-vizir he might bring his

daughter as soon as he liked.

The vizir took back this news to Scheherazade, who received it as if it had been

the most pleasant thing in the world. She thanked her father warmly for yielding

to her wishes, and, seeing him still bowed down with grief, told him that she

hoped he would never repent having allowed her to marry the Sultan. Then she

went to prepare herself for the marriage, and begged that her sister Dinarzade

should be sent for to speak to her.

When they were alone, Scheherazade addressed her thus:

"My dear sister; I want your help in a very important affair. My father is going to

take me to the palace to celebrate my marriage with the Sultan. When his

Highness receives me, I shall beg him, as a last favour, to let you sleep in our

chamber, so that I may have your company during the last night I am alive. If, as

I hope, he grants me my wish, be sure that you wake me an hour before the

dawn, and speak to me in these words: "My sister, if you are not asleep, I beg

you, before the sun rises, to tell me one of your charming stories." Then I shall

begin, and I hope by this means to deliver the people from the terror that reigns

over them." Dinarzade replied that she would do with pleasure what her sister

wished.

When the usual hour arrived the grand-vizir conducted Scheherazade to the

palace, and left her alone with the Sultan, who bade her raise her veil and was

amazed at her beauty. But seeing her eyes full of tears, he asked what was the

matter. "Sire," replied Scheherazade, "I have a sister who loves me as tenderly

as I love her. Grant me the favour of allowing her to sleep this night in the same

room, as it is the last we shall be together." Schahriar consented to

Scheherazade's petition and Dinarzade was sent for.

An hour before daybreak Dinarzade awoke, and exclaimed, as she had

promised, "My dear sister, if you are not asleep, tell me I pray you, before the sun

rises, one of your charming stories. It is the last time that I shall have the

pleasure of hearing you."

Scheherazade did not answer her sister, but turned to the Sultan. "Will your

highness permit me to do as my sister asks?" said she.

"Willingly," he answered. So Scheherazade began.

The Story of the Merchant and the

Genius

Sire, there was once upon a time a merchant who possessed great wealth, in

land and merchandise, as well as in ready money. He was obliged from time to

time to take journeys to arrange his affairs. One day, having to go a long way

from home, he mounted his horse, taking with him a small wallet in which he had

put a few biscuits and dates, because he had to pass through the desert where

no food was to be got. He arrived without any mishap, and, having finished his

business, set out on his return. On the fourth day of his journey, the heat of the

sun being very great, he turned out of his road to rest under some trees. He

found at the foot of a large walnut-tree a fountain of clear and running water. He

dismounted, fastened his horse to a branch of the tree, and sat by the fountain,

after having taken from his wallet some of his dates and biscuits. When he had

finished this frugal meal he washed his face and hands in the fountain.

When he was thus employed he saw an enormous genius, white with rage,

coming towards him, with a scimitar in his hand.

"Arise," he cried in a terrible voice, "and let me kill you as you have killed my

son!"

As he uttered these words he gave a frightful yell. The merchant, quite as much

terrified at the hideous face of the monster as at his words, answered him

tremblingly, "Alas, good sir, what can I have done to you to deserve death?"

"I shall kill you," repeated the genius, "as you have killed my son."

"But," said the merchant, "How can I have killed your son? I do not know him,

and I have never even seen him."

"When you arrived here did you not sit down on the ground?" asked the genius,

"and did you not take some dates from your wallet, and whilst eating them did not

you throw the stones about?"

"Yes," said the merchant, "I certainly did so."

"Then," said the genius, "I tell you you have killed my son, for whilst you were

throwing about the stones, my son passed by, and one of them struck him in the

eye and killed him. So I shall kill you."

"Ah, sir, forgive me!" cried the merchant.

"I will have no mercy on you," answered the genius.

"But I killed your son quite unintentionally, so I implore you to spare my life."

"No," said the genius, "I shall kill you as you killed my son," and so saying, he

seized the merchant by the arm, threw him on the ground, and lifted his sabre to

cut off his head.

The merchant, protesting his innocence, bewailed his wife and children, and tried

pitifully to avert his fate. The genius, with his raised scimitar, waited till he had

finished, but was not in the least touched.

Scheherazade, at this point, seeing that it was day, and knowing that the Sultan

always rose very early to attend the council, stopped speaking.

"Indeed, sister," said Dinarzade, "this is a wonderful story."

"The rest is still more wonderful," replied Scheherazade, "and you would say so,

if the sultan would allow me to live another day, and would give me leave to tell it

to you the next night."

Schahriar, who had been listening to Scheherazade with pleasure, said to

himself, "I will wait till to-morrow; I can always have her killed when I have heard

the end of her story."

All this time the grand-vizir was in a terrible state of anxiety. But he was much

delighted when he saw the Sultan enter the council-chamber without giving the

terrible command that he was expecting.

The next morning, before the day broke, Dinarzade said to her sister, "Dear

sister, if you are awake I pray you to go on with your story."

The Sultan did not wait for Scheherazade to ask his leave. "Finish," said he, "the

story of the genius and the merchant. I am curious to hear the end."

So Scheherazade went on with the story. This happened every morning. The

Sultana told a story, and the Sultan let her live to finish it.

When the merchant saw that the genius was determined to cut off his head, he

said: "One word more, I entreat you. Grant me a little delay; just a short time to

go home and bid my wife and children farewell, and to make my will. When I

have done this I will come back here, and you shall kill me."

"But," said the genius, "if I grant you the delay you ask, I am afraid that you will

not come back."

"I give you my word of honour," answered the merchant, "that I will come back

without fail."

"How long do you require?" asked the genius.

"I ask you for a year's grace," replied the merchant. "I promise you that to-morrow

twelvemonth, I shall be waiting under these trees to give myself up to you."

On this the genius left him near the fountain and disappeared.

The merchant, having recovered from his fright, mounted his horse and went on

his road.

When he arrived home his wife and children received him with the greatest joy.

But instead of embracing them he began to weep so bitterly that they soon

guessed that something terrible was the matter.

"Tell us, I pray you," said his wife, "what has happened."

"Alas!" answered her husband, "I have only a year to live."

Then he told them what had passed between him and the genius, and how he

had given his word to return at the end of a year to be killed. When they heard

this sad news they were in despair, and wept much.

The next day the merchant began to settle his affairs, and first of all to pay his

debts. He gave presents to his friends, and large alms to the poor. He set his

slaves at liberty, and provided for his wife and children. The year soon passed

away, and he was obliged to depart. When he tried to say good-bye he was quite

overcome with grief, and with difficulty tore himself away. At length he reached

the place where he had first seen the genius, on the very day that he had

appointed. He dismounted, and sat down at the edge of the fountain, where he

awaited the genius in terrible suspense.

Whilst he was thus waiting an old man leading a hind came towards him. They

greeted one another, and then the old man said to him, "May I ask, brother, what

brought you to this desert place, where there are so many evil genii about? To

see these beautiful trees one would imagine it was inhabited, but it is a

dangerous place to stop long in."

The merchant told the old man why he was obliged to come there. He listened in

astonishment.

"This is a most marvellous affair. I should like to be a witness of your interview

with the genius." So saying he sat down by the merchant.

While they were talking another old man came up, followed by two black dogs.

He greeted them, and asked what they were doing in this place. The old man

who was leading the hind told him the adventure of the merchant and the genius.

The second old man had not sooner heard the story than he, too, decided to stay

there to see what would happen. He sat down by the others, and was talking,

when a third old man arrived. He asked why the merchant who was with them

looked so sad. They told him the story, and he also resolved to see what would

pass between the genius and the merchant, so waited with the rest.

They soon saw in the distance a thick smoke, like a cloud of dust. This smoke

came nearer and nearer, and then, all at once, it vanished, and they saw the

genius, who, without speaking to them, approached the merchant, sword in hand,

and, taking him by the arm, said, "Get up and let me kill you as you killed my

son."

The merchant and the three old men began to weep and groan.

Then the old man leading the hind threw himself at the monster's feet and said,

"O Prince of the Genii, I beg of you to stay your fury and to listen to me. I am

going to tell you my story and that of the hind I have with me, and if you find it

more marvellous than that of the merchant whom you are about to kill, I hope that

you will do away with a third part of his punishment?"

The genius considered some time, and then he said, "Very well, I agree to this."

The Story of the First Old Man and of

the Hind

I am now going to begin my story (said the old man), so please attend.

This hind that you see with me is my wife. We have no children of our own,

therefore I adopted the son of a favorite slave, and determined to make him my

heir.

My wife, however, took a great dislike to both mother and child, which she

concealed from me till too late. When my adopted son was about ten years old I

was obliged to go on a journey. Before I went I entrusted to my wife's keeping

both the mother and child, and begged her to take care of them during my

absence, which lasted a whole year. During this time she studied magic in order

to carry out her wicked scheme. When she had learnt enough she took my son

into a distant place and changed him into a calf. Then she gave him to my

steward, and told him to look after a calf she had bought. She also changed the

slave into a cow, which she sent to my steward.

When I returned I inquired after my slave and the child. "Your slave is dead," she

said, "and as for your son, I have not seen him for two months, and I do not know

where he is."

I was grieved to hear of my slave's death, but as my son had only disappeared, I

thought I should soon find him. Eight months, however, passed, and still no

tidings of him; then the feast of Bairam came.

To celebrate it I ordered my steward to bring me a very fat cow to sacrifice. He

did so. The cow that he brought was my unfortunate slave. I bound her, but just

as I was about to kill her she began to low most piteously, and I saw that her

eyes were streaming with tears. It seemed to me most extraordinary, and, feeling

a movement of pity, I ordered the steward to lead her away and bring another.

My wife, who was present, scoffed at my compassion, which made her malice of

no avail. "What are you doing?" she cried. "Kill this cow. It is the best we have to

sacrifice."

To please her, I tried again, but again the animal's lows and tears disarmed me.

"Take her away," I said to the steward, "and kill her; I cannot."

The steward killed her, but on skinning her found that she was nothing but bones,

although she appeared so fat. I was vexed.

"Keep her for yourself," I said to the steward, "and if you have a fat calf, bring that

in her stead."

In a short time he brought a very fat calf, which, although I did not know it, was

my son. It tried hard to break its cord and come to me. It threw itself at my feet,

with its head on the ground, as if it wished to excite my pity, and to beg me not to

take away its life.

I was even more surprised and touched at this action than I had been at the tears

of the cow.

"Go," I said to the steward, "take back this calf, take great care of it, and bring me

another in its place instantly."

As soon as my wife heard me speak this she at once cried out, "What are you

doing, husband? Do not sacrifice any calf but this."

"Wife," I answered, "I will not sacrifice this calf," and in spite of all her

remonstrances, I remained firm.

I had another calf killed; this one was led away. The next day the steward asked

to speak to me in private.

"I have come," he said, "to tell you some news which I think you will like to hear. I

have a daughter who knows magic. Yesterday, when I was leading back the calf

which you refused to sacrifice, I noticed that she smiled, and then directly

afterwards began to cry. I asked her why she did so."

"Father," she answered, "this calf is the son of our master. I smile with joy at

seeing him still alive, and I weep to think of his mother, who was sacrificed

yesterday as a cow. These changes have been wrought by our master's wife,

who hated the mother and son."

"At these words, of Genius," continued the old man, "I leave you to imagine my

astonishment. I went immediately with the steward to speak with his daughter

myself. First of all I went to the stable to see my son, and he replied in his dumb

way to all my caresses. When the steward's daughter came I asked her if she

could change my son back to his proper shape."

"Yes, I can," she replied, "on two conditions. One is that you will give him to me

for a husband, and the other is that you will let me punish the woman who

changed him into a calf."

"To the first condition," I answered, "I agree with all my heart, and I will give you

an ample dowry. To the second I also agree, I only beg you to spare her life."

"That I will do," she replied; "I will treat her as she treated your son."

Then she took a vessel of water and pronounced over it some words I did not

understand; then, on throwing the water over him, he became immediately a

young man once more.

"My son, my dear son," I exclaimed, kissing him in a transport of joy. "This kind

maiden has rescued you from a terrible enchantment, and I am sure that out of

gratitude you will marry her."

He consented joyfully, but before they were married, the young girl changed my

wife into a hind, and it is she whom you see before you. I wished her to have this

form rather than a stranger one, so that we could see her in the family without

repugnance.

Since then my son has become a widower and has gone travelling. I am now

going in search of him, and not wishing to confide my wife to the care of other

people, I am taking her with me. Is this not a most marvellous tale?

"It is indeed," said the genius, "and because of it I grant to you the third part of

the punishment of this merchant."

When the first old man had finished his story, the second, who was leading the

two black dogs, said to the genius, "I am going to tell you what happened to me,

and I am sure that you will find my story even more astonishing than the one to

which you have just been listening. But when I have related it, will you grant me

also the third part of the merchant's punishment?"

"Yes," replied the genius, "provided that your story surpasses that of the hind."

With this agreement the second old man began in this way.

The Story of the Second Old Man,

and of the Two Black Dogs

Great prince of the genii, you must know that we are three brothers-- these two

black dogs and myself. Our father died, leaving us each a thousand sequins.

With this sum we all three took up the same profession, and became merchants.

A short time after we had opened our shops, my eldest brother, one of these two

dogs, resolved to travel in foreign countries for the sake of merchandise. With

this intention he sold all he had and bought merchandise suitable to the voyages

he was about to make. He set out, and was away a whole year. At the end of this

time a beggar came to my shop. "Good-day," I said. "Good-day," he answered;

"is it possible that you do not recognise me?" Then I looked at him closely and

saw he was my brother. I made him come into my house, and asked him how he

had fared in his enterprise.

"Do not question me," he replied, "see me, you see all I have. It would but renew

my trouble to tell of all the misfortunes that have befallen me in a year, and have

brought me to this state."

I shut up my shop, paid him every attention, taking him to the bath, giving him my

most beautiful robes. I examined my accounts, and found that I had doubled my

capital--that is, that I now possessed two thousand sequins. I gave my brother

half, saying: "Now, brother, you can forget your losses." He accepted them with

joy, and we lived together as we had before.

Some time afterwards my second brother wished also to sell his business and

travel. My eldest brother and I did all we could to dissuade him, but it was of no

use. He joined a caravan and set out. He came back at the end of a year in the

same state as his elder brother. I took care of him, and as I had a thousand

sequins to spare I gave them to him, and he re-opened his shop.

One day, my two brothers came to me to propose that we should make a journey

and trade. At first I refused to go. "You travelled," I said, "and what did you gain?"

But they came to me repeatedly, and after having held out for five years I at last

gave way. But when they had made their preparation, and they began to buy the

merchandise we needed, they found they had spent every piece of the thousand

sequins I had given them. I did not reproach them. I divided my six thousand

sequins with them, giving a thousand to each and keeping one for myself, and

the other three I buried in a corner of my house. We bought merchandise, loaded

a vessel with it, and set forth with a favorable wind.

After two months' sailing we arrived at a seaport, where we disembarked and did

a great trade. Then we bought the merchandise of the country, and were just

going to sail once more, when I was stopped on the shore by a beautiful though

poorly dressed woman. She came up to me, kissed my hand, and implored me to

marry her, and take her on board. At first I refused, but she begged so hard and

promised to be such a good wife to me, that at last I consented. I got her some

beautiful dresses, and after having married her, we embarked and set sail.

During the voyage, I discovered so many good qualities in my wife that I began to

lover her more and more. But my brothers began to be jealous of my prosperity,

and set to work to plot against my life. One night when we were sleeping they

threw my wife and myself into the sea. My wife, however, was a fairy, and so she

did not let me drown, but transported me to an island. When the day dawned,

she said to me,

"When I saw you on the sea-shore I took a great fancy to you, and wished to try

your good nature, so I presented myself in the disguise you saw. Now I have

rewarded you by saving your life. But I am very angry with your brothers, and I

shall not rest till I have taken their lives."

I thanked the fairy for all that she had done for me, but I begged her not to kill my

brothers.

I appeased her wrath, and in a moment she transported me from the island

where we were to the roof of my house, and she disappeared a moment

afterwards. I went down, and opened the doors, and dug up the three thousand

sequins which I had buried. I went to the place where my shop was, opened it,

and received from my fellow-merchants congratulations on my return. When I

went home, I saw two black dogs who came to meet me with sorrowful faces. I

was much astonished, but the fairy who reappeared said to me,

"Do not be surprised to see these dogs; they are your two brothers. I have

condemned them to remain for ten years in these shapes." Then having told me

where I could hear news of her, she vanished.

The ten years are nearly passed, and I am on the road to find her. As in passing I

met this merchant and the old man with the hind, I stayed with them.

This is my history, O prince of genii! Do you not think it is a most marvellous

one?

"Yes, indeed," replied the genius, "and I will give up to you the third of the

merchant's punishment."

Then the third old man made the genius the same request as the other two had

done, and the genius promised him the last third of the merchant's punishment if

his story surpassed both the others.

So he told his story to the genius, but I cannot tell you what it was, as I do not

know.

But I do know that it was even more marvellous than either of the others, so that

the genius was astonished, and said to the third old man, "I will give up to you the

third part of the merchant's punishment. He ought to thank all three of you for

having interested yourselves in his favour. But for you, he would be here no

longer."

So saying, he disappeared, to the great joy of the company. The merchant did

not fail to thank his friends, and then each went on his way. The merchant

returned to his wife and children, and passed the rest of his days happily with

them.

"But, sire," added Scheherazade, "however beautiful are the stories I have just

told you, they cannot compare with the story of the Fisherman."

The Story of the Fisherman

Sire, there was once upon a time a fisherman so old and so poor that he could

scarcely manage to support his wife and three children. He went every day to fish

very early, and each day he made a rule not to throw his nets more than four

times. He started out one morning by moonlight and came to the sea-shore. He

undressed and threw his nets, and as he was drawing them towards the bank he

felt a great weight. He though he had caught a large fish, and he felt very

pleased. But a moment afterwards, seeing that instead of a fish he only had in

his nets the carcase of an ass, he was much disappointed.

Vexed with having such a bad haul, when he had mended his nets, which the

carcase of the ass had broken in several places, he threw them a second time. In

drawing them in he again felt a great weight, so that he thought they were full of

fish. But he only found a large basket full of rubbish. He was much annoyed.

"O Fortune," he cried, "do not trifle thus with me, a poor fisherman, who can

hardly support his family!"

So saying, he threw away the rubbish, and after having washed his nets clean of

the dirt, he threw them for the third time. But he only drew in stones, shells, and

mud. He was almost in despair.

Then he threw his nets for the fourth time. When he thought he had a fish he

drew them in with a great deal of trouble. There was no fish however, but he

found a yellow pot, which by its weight seemed full of something, and he noticed

that it was fastened and sealed with lead, with the impression of a seal. He was

delighted. "I will sell it to the founder," he said; "with the money I shall get for it I

shall buy a measure of wheat."

He examined the jar on all sides; he shook it to see if it would rattle. But he heard

nothing, and so, judging from the impression of the seal and the lid, he thought

there must be something precious inside. To find out, he took his knife, and with

a little trouble he opened it. He turned it upside down, but nothing came out,

which surprised him very much. He set it in front of him, and whilst he was

looking at it attentively, such a thick smoke came out that he had to step back a

pace or two. This smoke rose up to the clouds, and stretching over the sea and

the shore, formed a thick mist, which caused the fisherman much astonishment.

When all the smoke was out of the jar it gathered itself together, and became a

thick mass in which appeared a genius, twice as large as the largest giant. When

he saw such a terrible-looking monster, the fisherman would like to have run

away, but he trembled so with fright that he could not move a step.

"Great king of the genii," cried the monster, "I will never again disobey you!"

At these words the fisherman took courage.

"What is this you are saying, great genius? Tell me your history and how you

came to be shut up in that vase."

At this, the genius looked at the fisherman haughtily. "Speak to me more civilly,"

he said, "before I kill you."

"Alas! why should you kill me?" cried the fisherman. "I have just freed you; have

you already forgotten that?"

"No," answered the genius; "but that will not prevent me from killing you; and I

am only going to grant you one favour, and that is to choose the manner of your

death."

"But what have I done to you?" asked the fisherman.

"I cannot treat you in any other way," said the genius, "and if you would know

why, listen to my story.

"I rebelled against the king of the genii. To punish me, he shut me up in this vase

of copper, and he put on the leaden cover his seal, which is enchantment enough

to prevent my coming out. Then he had the vase thrown into the sea. During the

first period of my captivity I vowed that if anyone should free me before a

hundred years were passed, I would make him rich even after his death. But that

century passed, and no one freed me. In the second century I vowed that I would

give all the treasures in the world to my deliverer; but he never came.

"In the third, I promised to make him a king, to be always near him, and to grant

him three wishes every day; but that century passed away as the other two had

done, and I remained in the same plight. At last I grew angry at being captive for

so long, and I vowed that if anyone would release me I would kill him at once,

and would only allow him to choose in what manner he should die. So you see,

as you have freed me to-day, choose in what way you will die."

The fisherman was very unhappy. "What an unlucky man I am to have freed you!

I implore you to spare my life."

"I have told you," said the genius, "that it is impossible. Choose quickly; you are

wasting time."

The fisherman began to devise a plot.

"Since I must die," he said, "before I choose the manner of my death, I conjure

you on your honour to tell me if you really were in that vase?"

"Yes, I was" answered the genius.

"I really cannot believe it," said the fisherman. "That vase could not contain one

of your feet even, and how could your whole body go in? I cannot believe it

unless I see you do the thing."

Then the genius began to change himself into smoke, which, as before, spread

over the sea and the shore, and which, then collecting itself together, began to

go back into the vase slowly and evenly till there was nothing left outside. Then a

voice came from the vase which said to the fisherman, "Well, unbelieving

fisherman, here I am in the vase; do you believe me now?"

The fisherman instead of answering took the lid of lead and shut it down quickly

on the vase.

"Now, O genius," he cried, "ask pardon of me, and choose by what death you will

die! But no, it will be better if I throw you into the sea whence I drew you out, and

I will build a house on the shore to warn fishermen who come to cast their nets

here, against fishing up such a wicked genius as you are, who vows to kill the

man who frees you."

At these words the genius did all he could to get out, but he could not, because

of the enchantment of the lid.

Then he tried to get out by cunning.

"If you will take off the cover," he said, "I will repay you."

"No," answered the fisherman, "if I trust myself to you I am afraid you will treat

me as a certain Greek king treated the physician Douban. Listen, and I will tell

you."

The Story of the Greek King and the

Physician Douban

In the country of Zouman, in Persia, there lived a Greek king. This king was a

leper, and all his doctors had been unable to cure him, when a very clever

physician came to his court.

He was very learned in all languages, and knew a great deal about herbs and

medicines.

As soon as he was told of the king's illness he put on his best robe and

presented himself before the king. "Sire," said he, "I know that no physician has

been able to cure your majesty, but if you will follow my instructions, I will

promise to cure you without any medicines or outward application."

The king listened to this proposal.

"If you are clever enough to do this," he said, "I promise to make you and your

descendants rich for ever."

The physician went to his house and made a polo club, the handle of which he

hollowed out, and put in it the drug he wished to use. Then he made a ball, and

with these things he went the next day to the king.

He told him that he wished him to play at polo. Accordingly the king mounted his

horse and went into the place where he played. There the physician approached

him with the bat he had made, saying, "Take this, sire, and strike the ball till you

feel your hand and whole body in a glow. When the remedy that is in the handle

of the club is warmed by your hand it will penetrate throughout your body. The

you must return to your palace, bathe, and go to sleep, and when you awake to-morrow morning you will be cured."

The king took the club and urged his horse after the ball which he had thrown. He

struck it, and then it was hit back by the courtiers who were playing with him.

When he felt very hot he stopped playing, and went back to the palace, went into

the bath, and did all that the physician had said. The next day when he arose he

found, to his great joy and astonishment, that he was completely cured. When he

entered his audience-chamber all his courtiers, who were eager to see if the

wonderful cure had been effected, were overwhelmed with joy.

The physician Douban entered the hall and bowed low to the ground. The king,

seeing him, called him, made him sit by his side, and showed him every mark of

honour.

That evening he gave him a long and rich robe of state, and presented him with

two thousand sequins. The following day he continued to load him with favours.

Now the king had a grand-vizir who was avaricious, and envious, and a very bad

man. He grew extremely jealous of the physician, and determined to bring about

his ruin.

In order to do this he asked to speak in private with the king, saying that he had a

most important communication to make.

"What is it?" asked the king.

"Sire," answered the grand-vizir, "it is most dangerous for a monarch to confide in

a man whose faithfulness is not proved, You do not know that this physician is

not a traitor come here to assassinate you."

"I am sure," said the king, "that this man is the most faithful and virtuous of men.

If he wished to take my life, why did he cure me? Cease to speak against him. I

see what it is, you are jealous of him; but do not think that I can be turned against

him. I remember well what a vizir said to King Sindbad, his master, to prevent

him from putting the prince, his son, to death."

What the Greek king said excited the vizir's curiousity, and he said to him, "Sire, I

beg your majesty to have the condescension to tell me what the vizir said to King

Sindbad."

"This vizir," he replied, "told King Sindbad that one ought not believe everything

that a mother-in-law says, and told him this story."

The Story of the Husband and the

Parrot

A good man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved passionately, and never left if

possible. One day, when he was obliged by important business to go away from

her, he went to a place where all kinds of birds are sold and bought a parrot. This

parrot not only spoke well, but it had the gift of telling all that had been done

before it. He brought it home in a cage, and asked his wife to put it in her room,

and take great care of it while he was away. Then he departed. On his return he

asked the parrot what had happened during his absence, and the parrot told him

some things which made him scold his wife.

She thought that one of her slaves must have been telling tales of her, but they

told her it was the parrot, and she resolved to revenge herself on him.

When her husband next went away for one day, she told on slave to turn under

the bird's cage a hand-mill; another to throw water down from above the cage,

and a third to take a mirror and turn it in front of its eyes, from left to right by the

light of a candle. The slaves did this for part of the night, and did it very well.

The next day when the husband came back he asked the parrot what he had

seen. The bird replied, "My good master, the lightning, thunder and rain disturbed

me so much all night long, that I cannot tell you what I have suffered."

The husband, who knew that it had neither rained nor thundered in the night, was

convinced that the parrot was not speaking the truth, so he took him out of the

cage and threw him so roughly on the ground that he killed him. Nevertheless he

was sorry afterwards, for he found that the parrot had spoken the truth.

"When the Greek king," said the fisherman to the genius, "had finished the story

of the parrot, he added to the vizir, "And so, vizir, I shall not listen to you, and I

shall take care of the physician, in case I repent as the husband did when he had

killed the parrot." But the vizir was determined. "Sire," he replied, "the death of

the parrot was nothing. But when it is a question of the life of a king it is better to

sacrifice the innocent than save the guilty. It is no uncertain thing, however. The

physician, Douban, wishes to assassinate you. My zeal prompts me to disclose

this to your Majesty. If I am wrong, I deserve to be punished as a vizir was once

punished." "What had the vizir done," said the Greek king, "to merit the

punishment?" "I will tell your Majesty, if you will do me the honour to listen,"

answered the vizir."

The Story of the Vizir Who Was

Punished

There was once upon a time a king who had a son who was very fond of hunting.

He often allowed him to indulge in this pastime, but he had ordered his grand-vizir always to go with him, and never to lose sight of him. One day the huntsman

roused a stag, and the prince, thinking that the vizir was behind, gave chase, and

rode so hard that he found himself alone. He stopped, and having lost sight of it,

he turned to rejoin the vizir, who had not been careful enough to follow him. But

he lost his way. Whilst he was trying to find it, he saw on the side of the road a

beautiful lady who was crying bitterly. He drew his horse's rein, and asked her

who she was and what she was doing in this place, and if she needed help. "I am

the daughter of an Indian king," she answered, "and whilst riding in the country I

fell asleep and tumbled off. My horse has run away, and I do not know what has

become of him."

The young prince had pity on her, and offered to take her behind him, which he

did. As they passed by a ruined building the lady dismounted and went in. The

prince also dismounted and followed her. To his great surprise, he heard her

saying to some one inside, "Rejoice my children; I am bringing you a nice fat

youth." And other voices replied, "Where is he, mamma, that we may eat him at

once, as we are very hungry?"

The prince at once saw the danger he was in. He now knew that the lady who

said she was the daughter of an Indian king was an ogress, who lived in desolate

places, and who by a thousand wiles surprised and devoured passers-by. He

was terrified, and threw himself on his horse. The pretended princess appeared

at this moment, and seeing that she had lost her prey, she said to him, "Do not

be afraid. What do you want?"

"I am lost," he answered, "and I am looking for the road."

"Keep straight on," said the ogress, "and you will find it."

The prince could hardly believe his ears, and rode off as hard as he could. He

found his way, and arrived safe and sound at his father's house, where he told

him of the danger he had run because of the grand-vizir's carelessness. The king

was very angry, and had him strangled immediately.

"Sire," went on the vizir to the Greek king, "to return to the physician, Douban. If

you do not take care, you will repent of having trusted him. Who knows what this

remedy, with which he has cured you, may not in time have a bad effect on you?"

The Greek king was naturally very weak, and did not perceive the wicked

intention of his vizir, nor was he firm enough to keep to his first resolution.

"Well, vizir," he said, "you are right. Perhaps he did come to take my life. He

might do it by the mere smell of one of his drugs. I must see what can be done."

"The best means, sire, to put your life in security, is to send for him at once, and

to cut off his head directly he comes," said the vizir.

"I really think," replied the king, "that will be the best way."

He then ordered one of his ministers to fetch the physician, who came at once.

"I have had you sent for," said the king, "in order to free myself from you by

taking your life."

The physician was beyond measure astonished when he heard he was to die.

"What crimes have I committed, your majesty?"

"I have learnt," replied the king, "that you are a spy, and intend to kill me. But I

will be first, and kill you. Strike," he added to an executioner who was by, "and rid

me of this assassin."

At this cruel order the physician threw himself on his knees. "Spare my life," he

cried, "and yours will be spared."

The fisherman stopped here to say to the genius: "You see what passed between

the Greek king and the physician has just passed between us two. The Greek

king," he went on, "had no mercy on him, and the executioner bound his eyes."

All those present begged for his life, but in vain.

The physician on his knees, and bound, said to the king: "At least let me put my

affairs in order, and leave my books to persons who will make good use of them.

There is one which I should like to present to your majesty. It is very precious,

and ought to be kept carefully in your treasury. It contains many curious things

the chief being that when you cut off my head, if your majesty will turn to the sixth

leaf, and read the third line of the left-hand page, my head will answer all the

questions you like to ask it."

The king, eager to see such a wonderful thing, put off his execution to the next

day, and sent him under a strong guard to his house. There the physician put his

affairs in order, and the next day there was a great crowd assembled in the hall

to see his death, and the doings after it. The physician went up to the foot of the

throne with a large book in his hand. He carried a basin, on which he spread the

covering of the book, and presenting it to the king, said: "Sire, take this book, and

when my head is cut off, let it be placed in the basin on the covering of this book;

as soon as it is there, the blood will cease to flow. Then open the book, and my

head will answer your questions. But, sire, I implore your mercy, for I am

innocent."

"Your prayers are useless, and if it were only to hear your head speak when you

are dead, you should die."

So saying, he took the book from the physician's hands, and ordered the

executioner to do his duty.

The head was so cleverly cut off that it fell into the basin, and directly the blood

ceased to flow. Then, to the great astonishment of the king, the eyes opened,

and the head said, "Your majesty, open the book." The king did so, and finding

that the first leaf stuck against the second, he put his finger in his mouth, to turn it

more easily. He did the same thing till he reached the sixth page, and not seeing

any writing on it, "Physician," he said, "there is no writing."

"Turn over a few more pages," answered the head. The king went on turning, still

putting his finger in his mouth, till the poison in which each page was dipped took

effect. His sight failed him, and he fell at the foot of his throne.

When the physician's head saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the

king had only a few more minutes to live, "Tyrant," it cried, "see how cruelty and

injustice are punished."

Scarcely had it uttered these words than the king died, and the head lost also the

little life that had remained in it.

That is the end of the story of the Greek king, and now let us return to the

fisherman and the genius.

"If the Greek king," said the fisherman, "had spared the physician, he would not

have thus died. The same thing applies to you. Now I am going to throw you into

the sea."

"My friend," said the genius, "do not do such a cruel thing. Do not treat me as

Imma treated Ateca."

"What did Imma do to Ateca?" asked the fisherman.

"Do you think I can tell you while I am shut up in here?" replied the genius. "Let

me out, and I will make you rich."

The hope of being no longer poor made the fisherman give way.

"If you will give me your promise to do this, I will open the lid. I do not think you

will dare to break your word."

The genius promised, and the fisherman lifted the lid. He came out at once in

smoke, and then, having resumed his proper form, the first thing he did was to

kick the vase into the sea. This frightened the fisherman, but the genius laughed

and said, "Do not be afraid; I only did it to frighten you, and to show you that I

intend to keep my word; take your nets and follow me."

He began to walk in front of the fisherman, who followed him with some

misgivings. They passed in front of the town, and went up a mountain and then

down into a great plain, where there was a large lake lying between four hills.

When they reached the lake the genius said to the fisherman, "Throw your nets

and catch fish."

The fisherman did as he was told, hoping for a good catch, as he saw plenty of

fish. What was his astonishment at seeing that there were four quite different

kinds, some white, some red, some blue, and some yellow. He caught four, one

of each colour. As he had never seen any like them he admired them very much,

and he was very pleased to think how much money he would get for them.

"Take these fish and carry them to the Sultan, who will give you more money for

them than you have ever had in your life. You can come every day to fish in this

lake, but be careful not to throw your nets more than once every day, otherwise

some harm will happen to you. If you follow my advice carefully you will find it

good."

Saying these words, he struck his foot against the ground, which opened, and

when he had disappeared, it closed immediately.

The fisherman resolved to obey the genius exactly, so he did not cast his nets a

second time, but walked into the town to sell his fish at the palace.

When the Sultan saw the fish he was much astonished. He looked at them one

after the other, and when he had admired them long enough, "Take these fish,"

he said to his first vizir, "and given them to the clever cook the Emperor of the

Greeks sent me. I think they must be as good as they are beautiful."

The vizir took them himself to the cook, saying, "Here are four fish that have

been brought to the Sultan. He wants you to cook them."

Then he went back to the Sultan, who told him to give the fisherman four

hundred gold pieces. The fisherman, who had never before possessed such a

large sum of money at once, could hardly believe his good fortune. He at once

relieved the needs of his family, and made good use of it.

But now we must return to the kitchen, which we shall find in great confusion.

The cook, when she had cleaned the fish, put them in a pan with some oil to fry

them. When she thought them cooked enough on one side she turned them on

the other. But scarcely had she done so when the walls of the kitchen opened,

and there came out a young and beautiful damsel. She was dressed in an

Egyptian dress of flowered satin, and she wore earrings, and a necklace of white

pearls, and bracelets of gold set with rubies, and she held a wand of myrtle in her

hand.

She went up to the pan, to the great astonishment of the cook, who stood

motionless at the sight of her. She struck one of the fish with her rod, "Fish, fish,"

said she, "are you doing your duty?" The fish answered nothing, and then she

repeated her question, whereupon they all raised their heads together and

answered very distinctly, "Yes, yes. If you reckon, we reckon. If you pay your

debts, we pay ours. If you fly, we conquer, and we are content."

When they had spoken the girl upset the pan, and entered the opening in the

wall, which at once closed, and appeared the same as before.

When the cook had recovered from her fright she lifted up the fish which had

fallen into the ashes, but she found them as black as cinders, and not fit to serve

up to the Sultan. She began to cry.

"Alas! what shall I say to the Sultan? He will be so angry with me, and I know he

will not believe me!"

Whilst she was crying the grand-vizir came in and asked if the fish were ready.

She told him all that had happened, and he was much surprised. He sent at once

for the fisherman, and when he came said to him, "Fisherman, bring me four

more fish like you have brought already, for an accident has happened to them

so that they cannot be served up to the Sultan."

The fisherman did not say what the genius had told him, but he excused himself

from bringing them that day on account of the length of the way, and he promised

to bring them next day.

In the night he went to the lake, cast his nets, and on drawing them in found four

fish, which were like the others, each of a different colour.

He went back at once and carried them to the grand-vizir as he had promised.

He then took them to the kitchen and shut himself up with the cook, who began

to cook them as she had done the four others on the previous day. When she

was about to turn them on the other side, the wall opened, the damsel appeared,

addressed the same words to the fish, received the same answer, and then

overturned the pan and disappeared.

The grand-vizir was filled with astonishment. "I shall tell the Sultan all that has

happened," said he. And he did so.

The Sultan was very much astounded, and wished to see this marvel for himself.

So he sent for the fisherman, and asked him to procure four more fish. The

fisherman asked for three days, which were granted, and he then cast his nets in

the lake, and again caught four different coloured fish. The sultan was delighted

to see he had got them, and gave him again four hundred gold pieces.

As soon as the Sultan had the fish he had them carried to his room with all that

was needed to cook them.

Then he shut himself up with the grand-vizir, who began to prepare them and

cook them. When they were done on one side he turned them over on the other.

Then the wall of the room opened, but instead of the maiden a black slave came

out. He was enormously tall, and carried a large green stick with which he

touched the fish, saying in a terrible voice, "Fish, fish, are you doing your duty?"

To these words the fish lifting up their heads replied, "Yes, yes. If you reckon, we

reckon. If you pay your debts, we pay ours. If you fly, we conquer, and are

content."

The black slave overturned the pan in the middle of the room, and the fish were

turned to cinders. Then he stepped proudly back into the wall, which closed

round him.

"After having seen this," said the Sultan, "I cannot rest. These fish signify some

mystery I must clear up."

He sent for the fisherman. "Fisherman," he said, "the fish you have brought us

have caused me some anxiety. Where did you get them from?"

"Sire," he answered, "I got them from a lake which lies in the middle of four hills

beyond yonder mountains."

"Do you know this lake?" asked the Sultan of the grand-vizir.

"No; though I have hunted many times round that mountain, I have never heard

of it," said the vizir.

As the fisherman said it was only three hours' journey away, the sultan ordered

his whole court to mount and ride thither, and the fisherman led them.

They climbed the mountain, and then, on the other side, saw the lake as the

fisherman had described. The water was so clear that they could see the four

kinds of fish swimming about in it. They looked at them for some time, and then

the Sultan ordered them to make a camp by the edge of the water.

When night came the Sultan called his vizir, and said to him, "I have resolved to

clear up this mystery. I am going out alone, and do you stay here in my tent, and

when my ministers come to-morrow, say I am not well, and cannot see them. Do

this each day till I return."

The grand-vizir tried to persuade the Sultan not to go, but in vain. The Sultan

took off his state robe and put on his sword, and when he saw all was quiet in the

camp he set forth alone.

He climbed one of the hills, and then crossed the great plain, till, just as the sun

rose, he beheld far in front of him a large building. When he came near to it he

saw it was a splendid palace of beautiful black polished marble, covered with

steel as smooth as a mirror.

He went to the gate, which stood half open, and went in, as nobody came when

he knocked. He passed through a magnificent courtyard and still saw no one,

though he called aloud several times.

He entered large halls where the carpets were of silk, the lounges and sofas

covered with tapestry from Mecca, and the hangings of the most beautiful Indian

stuffs of gold and silver. Then he found himself in a splendid room, with a

fountain supported by golden lions. The water out of the lions' mouths turned into

diamonds and pearls, and the leaping water almost touched a most beautifully-painted dome. The palace was surrounded on three sides by magnificent

gardens, little lakes, and woods. Birds sang in the trees, which were netted over

to keep them always there.

Still the Sultan saw no one, till he heard a plaintive cry, and a voice which said,

"Oh that I could die, for I am too unhappy to wish to live any longer!"

The Sultan looked round to discover who it was who thus bemoaned his fate, and

at last saw a handsome young man, richly clothed, who was sitting on a throne

raised slightly from the ground. His face was very sad.

The sultan approached him and bowed to him. The young man bent his head

very low, but did not rise.

"Sire," he said to the Sultan, "I cannot rise and do you the reverence that I am

sure should be paid to your rank."

"Sir," answered the Sultan, "I am sure you have a good reason for not doing so,

and having heard your cry of distress, I am come to offer you my help. Whose is

this palace, and why is it thus empty?"

Instead of answering the young man lifted up his robe, and showed the Sultan

that, from the waist downwards, he was a block of black marble.

The Sultan was horrified, and begged the young man to tell him his story.

"Willingly I will tell you my sad history," said the young man.

The Story of the Young King of the

Black Isles

You must know, sire, that my father was Mahmoud, the king of this country, the

Black Isles, so called from the four little mountains which were once islands,

while the capital was the place where now the great lake lies. My story will tell

you how these changes came about.

My father died when he was sixty-six, and I succeeded him. I married my cousin,

whom I loved tenderly, and I thought she loved me too.

But one afternoon, when I was half asleep, and was being fanned by two of her

maids, I heard one say to the other, "What a pity it is that our mistress no longer

loves our master! I believe she would like to kill him if she could, for she is an

enchantress."

I soon found by watching that they were right, and when I mortally wounded a

favourite slave of hers for a great crime, she begged that she might build a

palace in the garden, where she wept and bewailed him for two years.

At last I begged her to cease grieving for him, for although he could not speak or

move, by her enchantments she just kept him alive. She turned upon me in a

rage, and said over me some magic words, and I instantly became as you see

me now, half man and half marble.

Then this wicked enchantress changed the capital, which was a very populous

and flourishing city, into the lake and desert plain you saw. The fish of four

colours which are in it are the different races who lived in the town; the four hills

are the four islands which give the name to my kingdom. All this the enchantress

told me to add to my troubles. And this is not all. Every day she comes and beats

me with a whip of buffalo hide.

When the young king had finished his sad story he burst once more into tears,

and the Sultan was much moved.

"Tell me," he cried, "where is this wicked woman, and where is the miserable

object of her affection, whom she just manages to keep alive?"

"Where she lives I do not know," answered the unhappy prince, "but she goes

every day at sunrise to see if the slave can yet speak to her, after she has beaten

me."

"Unfortunate king," said the Sultan, "I will do what I can to avenge you."

So he consulted with the young king over the best way to bring this about, and

they agreed their plan should be put in effect the next day. The Sultan then

rested, and the young king gave himself up to happy hopes of release. The next

day the Sultan arose, and then went to the palace in the garden where the black

slave was. He drew his sword and destroyed the little life that remained in him,

and then threw the body down a well. He then lay down on the couch where the

slave had been, and waited for the enchantress.

She went first to the young king, whom she beat with a hundred blows.

Then she came to the room where she thought her wounded slave was, but

where the Sultan really lay.

She came near his couch and said, "Are you better to-day, my dear slave?

Speak but one word to me."

"How can I be better," answered the Sultan, imitating the language of the

Ethiopians, "when I can never sleep for the cries and groans of your husband?"

"What joy to hear you speak!" answered the queen. "Do you wish him to regain

his proper shape?"

"Yes," said the Sultan; "hasten to set him at liberty, so that I may no longer hear

his cries."

The queen at once went out and took a cup of water, and said over it some

words that made it boil as if it were on the fire. Then she threw it over the prince,

who at once regained his own form. He was filled with joy, but the enchantress

said, "Hasten away from this place and never come back, lest I kill you."

So he hid himself to see the end of the Sultan's plan.

The enchantress went back to the Palace of Tears and said, "Now I have done

what you wished."

"What you have done," said the Sultan, "is not enough to cure me. Every day at

midnight all the people whom you have changed into fish lift their heads out of

the lake and cry for vengeance. Go quickly, and give them their proper shape."

The enchantress hurried away and said some words over the lake.

The fish then became men, women, and children, and the houses and shops

were once more filled. The Sultan's suite, who had encamped by the lake, were

not a little astonished to see themselves in the middle of a large and beautiful

town.

As soon as she had disenchanted it the queen went back to the palace.

"Are you quite well now?" she said.

"Come near," said the Sultan. "Nearer still."

She obeyed. Then he sprang up, and with one blow of his sword he cut her in

two.

Then he went and found the prince.

"Rejoice," he said, "your cruel enemy is dead."

The prince thanked him again and again.

"And now," said the Sultan. "I will go back to my capital, which I am glad to find is

so near yours."

"So near mine!" said the King of the Black Isles.

"Do you know it is a whole year's journey from here? You came here in a few

hours because it was enchanted. But I will accompany you on your journey."

"It will give me much pleasure if you will escort me," said the Sultan, "and as I

have no children, I will make you my heir."

The Sultan and the prince set out together, the Sultan laden with rich presents

from the King of the Black Isles.

The day after he reached his capital the Sultan assembled his court and told

them all that had befallen him, and told them how he intended to adopt the young

king as his heir.

Then he gave each man presents in proportion to his rank.

As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance of the young

prince, the Sultan gave him much money, and made him and his family happy for

the rest of their days.

Story of the Three Calenders

In the reign of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived at Bagdad a porter who,

in spite of his humble calling, was an intelligent and sensible man. One morning

he was sitting in his usual place with his basket before him, waiting to be hired,

when a tall young lady, covered with a long muslin veil, came up to him and said,

"Pick up your basket and follow me." The porter, who was greatly pleased by her

appearance and voice, jumped up at once, poised his basket on his head, and

accompanied the lady, saying to himself as he went, "Oh, happy day! Oh, lucky

meeting!"

The lady soon stopped before a closed door, at which she knocked. It was

opened by an old man with a long white beard, to whom the lady held out money

without speaking. The old man, who seemed to understand what she wanted,

vanished into the house, and returned bringing a large jar of wine, which the

porter placed in his basket. Then the lady signed to him to follow, and they went

their way.

The next place she stopped at was a fruit and flower shop, and here she bought

a large quantity of apples, apricots, peaches, and other things, with lilies,

jasmine, and all sorts of sweet-smelling plants. From this shop she went to a

butcher's, a grocer's, and a poulterer's, till at last the porter exclaimed in despair,

"My good lady, if you had only told me you were going to buy enough provisions

to stock a town, I would have brought a horse, or rather a camel." The lady

laughed, and told him she had not finished yet, but after choosing various kinds