The Arabian Nights Entertainments HTML version

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