You are a woman, I mean of such vivacity and wonderful quickness, replied Abon Hassan, that you scarce give me time to explain my design. Have but a little patience, and you shall find that you will be ready enough to die such a death as I mean; for surely you could not think I meant a real death? Well, said his wife, if it is but a sham death you design, I am at your service, and you may depend on my zeal to second you in this manner of dying; for I must tell you truly, I am very unwilling to die, as I apprehended you at first.
Be but easy a little, said Abon Hassan, and I will tell you what I propose. I will feign myself dead, and you shall lay me out in a white sheet, in the middle of my chamber, with my turban upon my face, my feet towards Mecca, and just ready to be carried out to burial. When you have done so, you must cry, and shed tears, as is usual in such cases, and tear your clothes and hair, or pretend to do it, and go all in tears, with your hair loose about your ears, to Zobeide. The princess will ask you the cause of your grief; and when you have told her, with words intermixed with sighs, she will pity you, and give you some money to defray the expense of my funeral, and a piece of good brocade to cover my body with, that my interment may be the more magnificent, and to make you a habit in the room of that she saw you had torn. As soon as you return with the money and the brocade, I will get up and lay you in my place, and go and act the same part with the caliph as you have done with Zobeide; and I dare say the caliph will be as generous to me as Zobeide has been to you.
When Abon Hassan had explained his plan, I think, replied Nouzhatoul-aouadat, it will be a pleasant trick, and I am much mistaken if the caliph and Zobeide will not like us for it. Let us put it in execution. Leave me to myself; I will play my part at least as well as I expect you will yours, and with as much zeal and attention, as the benefit we expect from it is great.
Nouzhatoul-aouadat liked this project very well, and said to Abon Hassan, Come, lose no time; strip to your shirt and breeches, while I prepare a sheet. I know how to bury as well as any body; for while I was in Zobeide’s service, and any of my fellow slaves died, I had the conducting of the funeral. Abon Hassan did as his wife bid him, and laid himself flat on his back on the sheet which his wife had spread on the carpet in the middle of the room. As soon as he had crossed his arms, his wife wrapped him up, turned his feet towards Mecca, and put a piece of fine muslin and his turban upon his face, so as to leave his breath free, so that nothing seemed wanting but to put him in a coffin, and carry him out to be buried. After this she pulled off her head-dress, and, with tears in her eyes, and her hair dishevelled, and seeming to tear it off, with a dismal cry and lamentation, beating her face and breast with all the marks of the most lively grief, ran across the court to Zobeide’s apartments; who, hearing the voice of a person crying very loud, commanded some of her women to see who it was; who returned and told her that it was Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who was coming in a deplorable condition.
The princess, impatient to know what had happened to her, rose up immediately, and went to meet her at the door of her ante-chamber. Nouzhatoul-aouadat played her part to perfection. As soon as she saw Zobeide, who held the door open, she redoubled her cries, tore her hair off by handfuls, beat her face and breast, and threw herself at her feet, bathing them with her tears.
Zobeide, amazed to see her slave in such extraordinary affliction, asked what had happened to her; but instead of answering, she continued her sighs and sobs, and, at last, feigning to strive to check them, said, with words interrupted with sighs, Alas! my most honoured lady and mistress, what greater misfortune could have befell me than this, which obliges me to throw myself at your highness’s feet? God prolong your days, my most respectable princess, in perfect health, and grant you many happy years! —Abon Hassan! poor Abon Hassan! whom you honoured with your esteem, and gave me for a husband, is no more!
At these last words, Nouzhatoul-aouadat redoubled her tears and sighs, and threw herself again at the princess’s feet. Zobeide was extremely surprised at this news. Abon Hassan dead! cried she; that healthy, agreeable, pleasant man! Indeed I did not in the least expect his death so soon; he seemed to promise a long life, and well deserved to enjoy it. Then she also burst into tears, as did all her women, who had been often witnesses of Abon Hassan’s pleasantries, when the caliph brought him to see the princess Zobeide; and all together continued a long time bewailing the loss of him. At length the princess Zobeide broke silence: Wicked woman! cried she, addressing herself to the false widow, perhaps you have occasioned his death! Your ill temper has given him so much vexation, that you have at last brought him to his grave. Nouzhatoul-aoudat seemed much hurt at the reproaches of Zobeide: Ah, madam, cried she, I do not think I ever gave your majesty, all the time I was your slave, the least reason to entertain so disadvantageous an opinion of my conduct to a husband who was so dear to me. I should think myself the most wretched of women if you were persuaded of this. I behaved to Abon Hassan as a wife should do to a husband for whom she has a sincere affection; and I may say, without vanity, that I had for him the same regard he had for me, which proved he loved me with equal affection. I am persuaded he would, were he alive, justify me fully to your majesty; but, madam, added she, renewing her tears, his time was come, and that was the only cause of his death.
Zobeide had really observed in her slave an uniformly equal temper and mildness, great docility and zeal for her service, which showed she was rather actuated by inclination than duty. She hesitated not to believe her on her word, and ordered her treasurer to fetch a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of rich brocade.
The slave soon returned with the purse and piece of brocade, which, by Zobeide’s order, she put into Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s hand, who threw herself again at the princess’s feet, and thanked her with great satisfaction, to think she had succeeded so well. Go, said Zobeide, make use of that brocade to cover the corpse of your husband, and with that money bury him handsomely, and as he deserves. Moderate the transports of your afflictions; I will take care of you.
As soon as Nouzhatoul-aouadat got out of the princess’s presence, she dried up her tears, and returned with joy to Abon Hassan, to give him an account of her good success. When she came home, she burst out a laughing to see her husband still stretched out in the middle of the floor; she ran to him, and bid him rise and see the fruits of his trick. He rose, and rejoiced with his wife at the sight of the purse and brocade. Unable to contain herself at the success of her artifice, Come, husband, said she, laughing, let me act the dead part, and see if you can manage the caliph as well as I have done Zobeide.
That is the temper of all women, replied Abon Hassan, who, we may well say, have always the vanity to believe they can do things better than men, though, at the same time, what good they do is by their advice. It would be odd indeed if I, who laid this plot myself, could not carry it on as well as you. But let us lose no time in idle discourse; lie down in my place, and see if I do not come off with as much applause.
Abon Hassan wrapped up his wife as she had done him, and with his turban unrolled, like a man in the greatest affliction, ran to the caliph, who was holding a private council with the grand vizier Giafar, and other confidential viziers. He presented himself at the door, and the officer knowing he had free access, opened it. He entered holding with one hand his handkerchief before his eyes, to hide the feigned tears, which trickled down his cheeks, and striking his breast with the other, with exclamations expressing extraordinary grief.
The caliph, who was used to see Abon Hassan with a merry countenance, was very much surprised to see him in that sorrowful state. He interrupted the business of the council to ask him the cause of his grief. Commander of the faithful, answered Abon Hassan, with repeated sighs and sobs, God preserve your majesty on the throne, which you fill so gloriously! a greater calamity could not have befallen me than what I now lament. Alas! Nouzhatoul-aouadat, whom you in your bounty gave me for a wife, to pass the rest of my days with, alas! —at this exclamation Abon Hassan pretended to have his heart so full, that he could not utter one syllable more, but poured forth a flood of tears.
The caliph, who presently understood that Abon Hassan came to tell him of the death of his wife, seemed very much concerned, and said to him with an air which showed how much he regretted her loss, God be merciful to her: she was a good slave, and we gave her to you with an intention to make you happy: she deserved a longer life. Then the tears ran down his face, so that he was obliged to pull out his handkerchief to wipe them off. The grief of Abon Hassan, and the tears of the caliph, excited those of Giafar and the other viziers. They bewailed the death of Nouzhatoul-aouadat, who, on her part, was impatient to hear how Abon Hassan succeeded.
The caliph had the same thought of the husband that Zobeide had of the wife, and imagined that he had occasioned her death. Wretch! said he, in a tone of indignation, have you not been the cause of your wife’s death by your ill-treatment of her? Can I doubt it? You ought at least to have had some regard for the princess my consort, who loved her more than the rest of her slaves, and consented to give her to you. What a return for her kindness!
Commander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, affecting to weep more bitterly than before, can your majesty for a moment suppose that Abon Hassan, whom you have loaded with your favours and kindness, and on whom you have conferred honours he could never have aspired to, can have been capable of such ingratitude? I loved Nouzhatoul-aouadat my wife as much on these accounts, as for the many good qualities she possessed, and which drew from me all the attachment, tenderness, and love she deserved. But, my lord, added he, she was to die, and God would no longer suffer me to enjoy a happiness for which I was indebted to your majesty and your beloved consort.
In short, Abon Hassan dissembled so well, that the caliph, who had never heard how extravagantly he and his wife had lived, not in the least doubting his sincerity, ordered his treasurer, who was present, to give Abon Hassan a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade. Abon Hassan immediately cast himself at the caliph’s feet, and thanked him for his present. Follow the treasurer, said that monarch; throw the brocade over the corpse, and with the money show the last testimony of thy love for thy wife.
Abon Hassan made no reply to these obliging words of the caliph, but retired with a low bow, and followed the treasurer; and as soon as he had got the purse, and piece of brocade, went home very well pleased with having found out so quick and easy a way of supplying his necessity, which had given him so much uneasiness.
Nouzhatoul-aouadat, weary with lying so long in the posture, never waited till Abon Hassan bid her rise; but as soon as she heard the door open, got up and ran to her husband, and asked him if he had imposed on the caliph as well as she did on Zobeide? You see, said he, showing her the stuff, and shaking the purse, that I can act a sorrowful husband for a living wife, as well as you can a weeping widow for a husband not dead. Abon Hassan, however, was not without his fears, that this double trick of theirs might be attended with some ill consequences. He thought it would not be amiss to put his wife on her guard as to what might happen, that they might act in concert. For, added he, the better we succeed in embarrassing the caliph and Zobeide, the more they will be pleased at last, and perhaps may show their satisfaction by a greater liberality. And this last consideration induced them to carry on this feint farther.
The caliph, though he had a great deal of business to transact in council, was nevertheless so impatient to go and condole with the princess upon the death of her slave, that he rose up as soon as Abon Hassan was gone, and put off the council to another day. Follow me, said he to Mesrour, who always attended him wherever he went and was in all his councils; let us go and share with the princess the grief which the death of her slave, Nouzhatoul-aouadat, causes her.
Accordingly they went to Zobeide’s apartment, whom the caliph found sitting on a sofa, very much afflicted, and still in tears. Madam, said the caliph, going up to her, it is unnecessary to tell you how much I partake with you in your affliction; since you are not insensible that what gives you pleasure or trouble has the same effect on me. But we are all mortal, and must surrender up to God that life which he has given us, when he requires it. Nouzhatoul-aouadat, your faithful slave, was endued with qualifications that deserved your esteem, and I cannot but approve your expressing it after her death; but consider, all your grief will not bring her to life again. Therefore, madam, if you love me, and will take my advice, be comforted for this loss, and take more care of a life which you know is precious to me, and constitutes all the happiness of mine.
If the princess was charmed with these tender sentiments which the caliph expressed in his compliments, she was amazed to hear of Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s death. This news threw her into so great surprise, that she was not able to return an answer for some time. At last recovering, she replied, with an air expressive of surprise, Commander of the faithful, I am very sensible of all your tender sentiments; but give me leave to say, I cannot comprehend the news you tell me of the death of my slave, who is in perfect health. My affliction is for the death of Abon Hassan, her husband, your favourite, whom I esteem, as much for the regard you have for him, as because you were so kind to bring me acquainted with him, who has so often diverted me very agreeably, and for whom I have as great a value as yourself. But, sir, the little concern you show for his death, and your so soon forgetting a man in whose company you have so often told me you took so much pleasure, amazes and surprises me: and this insensibility seems the greater, by the deception you put upon me in changing his death for that of my slave.
The caliph, who thought that he was perfectly well informed of the death of the slave, and had just reason to believe so, because he had both seen and heard Abon Hassan, fell a laughing, and shrugging up his shoulders, to hear Zobeide talk after this manner. Mesrour, said he, turning himself about to that eunuch, what do you think of the princess’s discourse? Do not women sometimes lose their senses? For, in short, you have heard and seen all as well as myself. Then turning about to Zobeide, Madam, said he, shed no more tears for Abon Hassan, for I can assure you he is well: but rather bewail the death of your dear slave. It is not many moments since her husband came all in tears, and the most inexpressible affliction, to tell me the death of his wife. I gave him a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade, to comfort him, and bury her with; and Mesrour here, who was by, can tell you the same.
The princess took this discourse of the caliph’s to be all a jest, and thought he had a mind to impose upon her. Commander of the faithful, replied she, though you are used to banter, I must tell you, this is not a proper time for it. What I tell you is very serious; I do not talk of my slave’s death, but of Abon Hassan, her husband, whose fate I bewail, and so ought you too. I, madam, said the caliph, putting on a grave countenance, I tell you, without raillery, that you are deceived: Nouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and Abon Hassan is alive and in perfect health.
Zobeide was very much piqued at this dry answer of the caliph. Commander of the faithful, replied she smartly, God preserve you from continuing longer in this mistake: surely you would make me think your mind is not as usual. Give me leave to repeat to you once more, that it is Abon Hassan who is dead, and that my slave Nouzhatoul-aouadat, his widow, is living. It is not an hour ago since she went from hence. She came here in so disconsolate a state, that the sight of her was enough to have drawn tears from my eyes, if she had not told me her affliction, accompanied with innumerable sighs. All my women, who wept with me, can bear me witness, and tell you also that I made her a present of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade; and the grief which you found me in was upon the death of her husband; and just that instant that you came in, I was going to send you a compliment of condolence.
At these words of Zobeide, the caliph cried out in a fit of laughter, This, madam, is a strange piece of obstinacy; but, continued he seriously, you may depend upon Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s being dead. I tell you, no, sir, replied Zobeide instantly; it is Abon Hassan that is dead, and you shall never make me believe otherwise.
Upon this, the caliph’s anger rose in his countenance. He sat himself upon the sofa, at some distance from the princess, and speaking to Mesrour, said, Go immediately, and see which it is, and bring me word; for though I am certain that it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat, I would rather take this way than be any longer obstinately positive about a matter which I am perfectly satisfied of. No sooner had the caliph commanded than Mesrour was gone. You will see, continued he, addressing himself to Zobeide, in a moment, which of us is right. For my part, replied Zobeide, I know very well that I am in the right, and you will find it to be Abon Hassan. And for myself, replied the caliph, I am so sure that it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat, that I will lay you what wager you will, that Abon Hassan is well.
Do not think to come off so, said Zobeide; I accept your wager, and I am so well persuaded of his death, that I would willingly lay the dearest thing in the world against what you will, though it were of less value. You know what I have at my disposal, and what I value most; propose the bet, and I will stand to it.
Since it is come to that, said the caliph, I will lay my garden of pleasures against your palace of paintings, though the one is worth much more than the other. Is the question at present, replied Zobeide, if your garden is more valuable than my palace? That is not the point. You have made choice of what you thought fit belonging to me as an equivalent against what you lay; I accept the wager, and will not go back; I take God to witness. The caliph took the same oath, and both waited till Mesrour returned.
While the caliph and Zobeide were disputing so earnestly, and with so much warmth, Abon Hassan, who foresaw their difference, was very attentive to whatever might happen. As soon as he perceived Mesrour through a window, against which he sat talking with his wife, and observed that he was coming directly to their apartment, he presently guessed what he was coming about, and bid his wife make haste to act the dead part once more, as they had agreed on, without loss of time; in short, they were so pressed, that Abon Hassan had much ado to wrap up the wife and lay the piece of brocade which the caliph had given him upon her, before Mesrour came. As soon as he had done that, he opened the door of his apartment, and with a melancholy, dejected countenance, and his handkerchief before his eyes, went and sat down at the head of the pretended deceased.
By that time he was seated, Mesrour came into the room. The dismal sight which met his eyes gave him a secret joy, on account of the errand the caliph sent him on. As soon as Abon Hassan perceived him, he rose up to meet him, and kissing his hand out of respect, said, sighing and groaning, You see me, sir, in the greatest affliction that ever could befall me; the death of my dear wife, Nouzhatoul-aouadat, whom you honoured with your favours.
Mesrour, affected by this discourse, could not refuse some tears to the memory of the deceased. He lifted up the cloth a little at the head, which was uncovered, and peeping under it, let it down again, and said, with a deep sigh, There is no other God but God; we must all submit to his will, and every creature must return to him. —Nouzhatoul-aouadat, my good sister, added he, sighing, thy days have been very few: God have mercy on thee. Then turning to Abon Hassan, who was all the time in tears, We may well say, said he, that women sometimes have whims, and lose their senses in a most unpardonable manner; for Zobeide, good mistress as she is, is in that situation at present: she will maintain to the caliph that you are dead, and not your wife; and whatever the caliph can say to the contrary, he cannot persuade her otherwise. He called me to witness and confirm this truth; for you know I was by when you came and told him the sorrowful news: but all signifies nothing. They are both positive; and the caliph, to convince Zobeide, has sent me to know the truth, but I fear I shall not be believed; for when women once take up a thing, they are not to be beat out of it.
God keep the commander of the faithful in the possession and right use of his senses, replied Abon Hassan, still sighing and crying: you see how it is, and that I have not imposed upon his majesty. And I wish to heaven, continued he, to dissemble the better, that I had no occasion to tell him the melancholy and affecting news. Alas! I cannot enough express my irreparable loss! That is true, replied Mesrour, and I can assure you I take a great share in your affliction; but you must be comforted, and not abandon yourself to your grief. —I leave you with reluctance, to return to the caliph; but I beg the favour of you not to bury the corpse till I come again; for I will assist at the interment, and accompany it with my prayers. Mesrour went to give an account of his message. Abon Hassan waited on him to the door, and told him that he did not deserve the honour that he intended him: and for fear Mesrour should return to say something else to him, he followed him with his eyes for sometime, and when he saw him at a distance, returned to his wife, and released her. This is already, said he, a new scene of mirth, but I fancy it will not be the last; for certainly the princess Zobeide will not believe Mesrour, but will laugh at him, since she has too substantial a reason to the contrary; therefore we must expect some new event. While Abon Hassan was talking thus, Nouzhatoul-aouadat had time to put on her clothes again, and both went and sat down on a sofa opposite to the window, where they could see all that passed.
In the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide’s apartment, and going into her closet laughing, clapped his hands like one who had something very agreeable to tell.
The caliph, who was naturally impatient, would presently be informed of the truth of the matter, for he was piqued a little at the princess’s diffidence; therefore as soon as he met Mesrour, Vile slave, said he, is this a time to laugh? Why do not you tell me which is dead, the husband or the wife?
Commander of the faithful, answered Mesrour, putting on a serious countenance, it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat who is dead, for the loss of whom Abon Hassan is as much afflicted as when he appeared before your majesty. The caliph not giving him time to pursue his story, interrupted him, and cried out, laughing heartily, Good news! Zobeide, your mistress, was a moment ago possessed of the palace of paintings, and now it is mine. She staked it against my garden of pleasures, since you went; therefore you could not have done me a greater pleasure. I will take care to reward you: but give me a true account of what you saw.
Commander of the faithful, said Mesrour, when I came to Abon Hassan’s apartment, I found the door open, and he was bewailing the death of his wife Nouzhatoul-aouadat. He sat at the head of the deceased, who was laid out in the middle of the room, with her feet towards Mecca, and was covered with that piece of brocade which your majesty made a present of to Abon Hassan. After I had expressed the share I took in this grief, I went and lifted up the pall at the head, and knew Nouzhatoul-aouadat, though her face was very much swelled and changed. I exhorted Abon Hassan in the best manner I could to be comforted; and when I came away, I told him I would attend at his wife’s funeral, and desired him not to remove the corpse till I came. This is all I can tell your majesty. I ask no more, said the caliph, laughing heartily, and I am very well satisfied with your exactness. Then addressing himself to Zobeide, Well, madam, said he, have you yet any thing to say against so certain a truth? Will you always believe that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is alive, and that Abon Hassan is dead? And will you not own that you have lost your wager?
How, sir replied Zobeide, who would not believe one word that Mesrour said, do you think that I regard that impertinent follow of a slave, who knows not what he says? I am not blind or mad. With these eyes I saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat in the greatest affliction; I spoke to her myself, and she told me that her husband was dead. Madam, replied Mesrour, I swear to you by your own life, and that of the commander of the faithful, which are both dear to me, that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is dead, and Abon Hassan is living.
Thou liest, base despicable slave! said Zobeide in a rage, and I will confound thee immediately; and thereupon, clapping her hands together, she called her women, who all came in. Come hither, said the princess to them, and speak the truth. Who was that who came and spoke with me a little before the caliph came here? The women all answered that it was poor afflicted Nouzhatoul-aouadat. And what, added she, addressing herself to her that was treasurer, did I order you to give her? Madam, answered the treasurer, I gave Nouzhatoul-aouadat, by your orders, a purse of a hundred pieces of gold, and a piece of brocade, which she carried away with her. Well, then, sorry slave, said Zobeide to Mesrour, in a great passion, what have you to say to all this? Whom do you think now I ought to believe, you or my treasurer, my other women or myself.
Mesrour did not want for arguments to contradict the princess; but as he was afraid of provoking her too much, he chose rather to be silent, though he was satisfied within himself that the wife was dead, and not the husband.
All the time of this dispute between Zobeide and Mesrour, the caliph, who heard the evidence on both sides, which each party insisted on, and was persuaded of the contrary of what the princess said, because he had himself seen and spoken to Abon Hassan, and because of what Mesrour had told him, laughed heartily to see Zobeide so exasperated against Mesrour. Madam, said he to Zobeide, once more I repeat, that I know not who was the author of that saying, That women sometimes lose their wits, but I am sure you make it good. Mesrour came just now from Abon Hassan’s, and tells us that he saw Nouzhatoul-aouadat lying dead in the middle of the room, Abon Hassan alive, and sitting by her; and yet you will not believe this evidence, which nobody can reasonably refuse: I cannot comprehend this conduct.
Zobeide would not hear what the caliph represented. Pardon me, commander of the faithful, replied she, if I suspect you: I see very well that you have contrived with Mesrour to vex me, and to try my patience. And as I perceive that his report was concerted between you, I beg leave to send a person to Abon Hassan’s, to know whether or not I am in the wrong.
The caliph consented, and the princess charged with this important commission an old nurse, who had lived with her from her infancy, and was now present among the rest of her women. Hark ye, nurse, said she; you see my dispute with the commander of the faithful, and me and Mesrour; I need tell you no more. Go to Abon Hassan’s, or rather to Nouzhatoul-aouadat’s, for Abon Hassan is dead, and clear up this matter for me. If you bring me good news, a handsome present is your reward; make haste, and return immediately.
The nurse set out, to the great joy of the caliph, who was delighted to see Zobeide in this embarrassment; but Mesrour, extremely mortified to find the princess so angry with him, did all he could to appease her, and to make her and the caliph both satisfied with him. He was overjoyed when Zobeide sent the nurse; because he was persuaded that the report she would make would agree with his, and serve to justify him, and restore him to her favour.
In the mean time, Abon Hassan, who watched the window, perceived the nurse at a distance, and guessing that she was sent by Zobeide, called his wife, and told her that the princess’s nurse was coming to know the truth: therefore, said he, make haste and lay me out. Accordingly Nouzhatoul-aouadat did so, and covered him with the piece of brocade Zobeide had given her, and put his turban upon his face. The nurse, eager to acquit herself of her commission, came at a good round pace, and entering the room, perceived Nouzhatoul-aouadat all in tears, her hair dishevelled, and set at the head of her husband, beating her breast, and with all the expressions of violent grief.
The good old nurse went directly to the false widow. My dear Nouzhatoul-aouadat, said she with a sorrowful face, I come not to interrupt your grief and tears for a husband whom you loved so tenderly. Ah! good mother, replied the counterfeit widow, you see my misfortune, and how unhappy I am by the loss of my beloved Abon Hassan. Abon Hassan, my dear husband! cried she, what have I done that you should leave me so soon? Have I not always preferred your will to my own? Alas! what will become of poor Nouzhatoul-aouadat?
The nurse was in great surprise to see every thing quite the reverse of what the chief of the eunuchs had told the caliph. This black faced Mesrour, cried she, lifting up her hands, deserves to be confounded for having made so great a difference between my good mistress and the commander of the faithful, by the notorious lie he told them. I must tell you, daughter, said she, the wickedness of that villain Mesrour, who has asserted with an inconceivable impudence before our good mistress, that you were dead, and Abon Hassan was alive!
Alas! my good mother, cried Nouzhatoul-aouadat, I wish to heaven that it was true! I should not be in this sorrowful state, nor bewail a husband so dear to me! At these words she burst out into tears, and by her redoubled tears and cries, feigned most desperate sorrow.
The nurse was so much moved by her tears, that she sat down by her, and cried too. Then gently lifting up the turban and cloth, looked on the face of the corpse: Ah! poor Abon Hassan, she cried, covering his face again, God have mercy upon thee! Adieu, child, said she to Nouzhatoul-aouadat; if I could stay longer with you, I would with all my heart; but I am obliged to return immediately, to deliver my mistress from the uneasiness that black villain has occasioned her, by his impudent lie, assuring her with an oath that you was dead.
As soon as the nurse was gone, and had pulled the door after her, and Nouzhatoul-aouadat thought she would not come back again, she wiped her eyes, and released Abon Hassan; and then they both went and sat down on a sofa against the window, expecting what would be the end of this trick, and to be ready to act according as things should turn out.
The nurse, in the mean time, made all the haste she could to Zobeide. The pleasure of carrying the princess good news, and still more the hopes of a good reward, added wings to her feet, and running into the princess’s closet quite out of breath, she gave her a true account of all she had seen. Zobeide hearkened to the old woman’s relation with a most sensible pleasure; and when she had done, she said with a tone which showed she had won her cause, Repeat it once more before the caliph, who looks upon us all to be fools, and would make us believe we have no sense of religion, nor fear of God; and tell your story to that wicked black slave, who had the insolence to assert a falsity, though I knew it to be one.
Mesrour, who expected the nurse’s report would prove favourable on his side, was very much mortified to find it so much the contrary. He was also vexed at the anger Zobeide expressed against him, for a thing which he thought himself surer of than any body, that he was glad of having an opportunity of speaking his mind freely to the nurse, which he durst not do to the princess. Old toothless, said he to the nurse, you are a liar, and there is no truth in what you say; for I saw with my own eyes Nouzhatoul-aouadat laid out in the middle of the room.
You are a notorious liar yourself, replied the nurse with an insulting air, to dare to maintain so great a falsity before my face, who am just come from seeing Abon Hassan dead, and laid out, and left his wife alive. I am not an impostor, replied Mesrour, it is you who endeavour to lead us all into error.
What impudence, said the nurse, to dare to tell me I lie in the presence of their majesties, when I saw just now with my own eyes the fact I have had the honour to tell them. Indeed, nurse, answered Mesrour again, you had better hold your tongue, for you certainly doat.
Zobeide, who could not support this want of respect in Mesrour, who, without any regard to her, treated her nurse so injuriously in her presence, without giving the nurse time to reply to so gross an affront, said to the caliph, Commander of the faithful, I demand justice for this insolence to us both. She was so enraged she could say no more, but burst into tears.
The caliph, who had heard all this dispute, thought it very intricate. He mused some time, and could not tell what to think of so many contradictions. The princess, for her part, as well as Mesrour, the nurse, and all the women slaves, who were present, were as much puzzled, and remained silent. At last the caliph resumed the business, and addressing himself to Zobeide, said, I see very well we are all liars, myself first, and then you, Mesrour, and you, nurse; or at least it seems not one can be believed more than the other; therefore, let us go ourselves to know the truth, for I can see no other way to clear up these doubts.
So saying, the caliph rose up, the princess followed him, and Mesrour went before to open the doors: Commander of the faithful, said he, I am overjoyed that your majesty has taken this course; and shall be much more, when I shall make it plainly appear to the nurse, not that she doats, since the expression is unfortunately displeasing to my good mistress, but that her report is not true.
The nurse wanted not a reply: Hold your tongue, black face, said she; you doat yourself.
Zobeide, who was very much provoked at Mesrour, could not bear to hear him attack her nurse again, without taking her part: Vile slave, said she, say what you will, I maintain my nurse says the truth, and look upon you as a mere liar. Madam, replied Mesrour, if nurse is so very certain that Nouzhatoul-aouadat is alive, and Abon Hassan is dead, I will lay her what she dares of it. The nurse was as ready as he; I dare, said she, take you at your word; let us see if you dare unsay it. Mesrour stood to his word; and they laid a piece of gold brocade with silver flowers before the caliph and the princess.
The apartment the caliph and Zobeide came out of, though distant from Abon Hassan’s, was nevertheless just over against it, and Abon Hassan could perceive them coming, and told his wife he was very much mistaken if the caliph and Zobeide, preceded by Mesrour, and followed by a great number of women, were not coming to do them the honour of a visit. She looked through a lattice, and saw them. Though her husband told her beforehand, she seemed frightened, and cried out, What shall we do? We are ruined. Fear nothing, replied Abon Hassan; have you forgot already what we agreed on? We will both feign ourselves dead, and you shall see all will go well. At the slow rate they come, we shall be ready before they get to the door. Accordingly, Abon Hassan and his wife wrapped up and covered themselves with the pieces of brocade, and waited patiently for their visitors.
Mesrour, who came first, opened the door, and the caliph and Zobeide, followed by their attendants, entered the room; but were extremely surprised, and stood motionless, at the dismal sight which presented itself to their view, not knowing what to make of it. At last, Zobeide breaking silence, said to the caliph, Alas! they are both dead! You have done so much, continued she, looking at the caliph and Mesrour, to endeavour to make me believe that my dear slave was dead, that I find it is true at last: grief for losing her husband has certainly killed her. Say rather, madam, answered the caliph, prepossessed to the contrary, that Nouzhatoul-aouadat died first, and the afflicted Abon Hassan sunk under his grief, and could not survive his dear wife; you ought, therefore, to agree that you have lost your wager, and your palace of paintings is mine.
Hold there, answered Zobeide, warmed at being contradicted by the caliph; I will maintain it, you have lost your garden of pleasures to me. Abon Hassan died first; since my nurse told you as well as me, that she saw her alive, and crying for the death of her husband.
The dispute of the caliph and Zobeide brought on another between Mesrour and the nurse, who had wagered as well as they, and each pretended to win, and came at last to abuse each other very grossly.
At last the caliph, reflecting on what had passed, began to think that Zobeide had as much reason as himself to maintain that she had won. In this embarrassment of not being able to find out the truth, he advanced towards the two corpses, and sat down at the head, searching after some expedient that might gain him the victory over Zobeide. I swear, cried he, presently after, by the holy name of God, that I will give a thousand pieces of gold to him that can tell me which of these two died first.
No sooner were these words out of the caliph’s mouth, but he heard a voice under Abon Hassan’s piece of brocade, say, Commander of the faithful, I died first; give me the thousand pieces of gold. At the same time he saw Abon Hassan throw off the piece of brocade, and come and prostrate himself at his feet, while his wife did the same to Zobeide, keeping on her piece of brocade out of decency. The princess at first shrieked out, so that she frightened all about her; but recovering herself at last, expressed great joy to see her dear slave rise again, just when she was almost inconsolable at having seen her dead. Ah! wicked Nouzhatoul-aouadat, cried she, what have I suffered for your sake? However, I forgive you from my heart, since you are not dead.
The caliph for his part was not so much surprised when he heard Abon Hassan’s voice; but thought he should have died with laughing at this unravelling of the mystery, and to hear Abon Hassan ask so seriously for the thousand pieces of gold. What, Abon Hassan, said he, continuing to laugh aloud, hast thou conspired against my life, to kill me a second time with laughing? How came this thought into your head, to surprise Zobeide and me thus, when we least thought of such a trick?
Commander of the faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I will declare to your majesty the whole truth without the least reserve. Your majesty knows very well that I always loved to eat and drink well, and the wife you gave me rather increased than restrained that inclination. With these dispositions your majesty may easily suppose we might spend a good estate; and to make short of my story, we were not in the least sparing of what your majesty so generously gave us. This morning, accounting with our caterer, who took care to provide every thing for us, and paying what we owed him, we found we had nothing left. Then reflections on what was past, and resolutions to manage better for the future, crowded into our thoughts; we formed a thousand projects, all which we rejected. At last, the shame of seeing ourselves reduced to so low a condition, and not daring to tell your majesty, made us contrive this trick to relieve our necessities, and to divert you with it, which we hope your majesty will be pleased to pardon us.
The caliph and Zobeide were very well satisfied with Abon Hassan’s sincerity, and not sorry for what was done; and then Zobeide, who had all along been very serious, began to laugh at the thoughts of Abon Hassan’s scheme. The caliph, who had not ceased laughing at the singularity of thus adventure, rising up, said to Abon Hassan and his wife, Follow me; I will give you the thousand pieces of gold I promised you, for joy to find you are not dead. Zobeide desired him to let her make her slave a present of the same sum, for the same reason. By this means Abon Hassan and his dear wife Nouzhatoul-aouadat long preserved the favour of the caliph Haroun Alraschid and the princess Zobeide, and by their liberality were made capable of pursuing their pleasures.
The Story of Aladdin; or, the Wonderful Lamp.
In the capital of one of the large and rich provinces of the kingdom of China, the name of which I do not recollect, there lived a tailor, whose name was Mustapha, without any other distinction but that which his profession afforded him, and so poor, that he could hardly, by his daily labour, maintain himself and family, which consisted of a wife and son.
His son, who was called Aladdin, had been brought up after a very careless and idle manner, and by that means had contracted many vicious habits. He was wicked, obstinate, and disobedient to his father and mother, who, when he grew up, could not keep him within doors; but he would go out early in the morning, and stay out all day, playing in the streets and public places with little vagabonds of his own age.
When he was old enough to learn a trade, his father not being able to put him out to any other, took him into his own shop, and showed him how to use his needle: but neither good words nor the fear of chastisement were capable of fixing his lively genius. All that his father could do to keep him at home to mind his work was in vain; for no sooner was his back turned, but Aladdin was gone for that day. Mustapha chastised him, but Aladdin was incorrigible; and his father, to his great grief, was forced to abandon him to his libertinism; and was so much troubled at not being able to reclaim him, that it threw him into a fit of sickness, of which he died in a few months.
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The mother of Aladdin, finding that her son would not follow his father’s business, shut up the shop, sold off the implements of that trade, and with the money she got for them, and what she could get by spinning cotton, thought to maintain herself and her son.
Aladdin, who was now no longer restrained by the fear of a father, and who cared so little for his mother, that whenever she chid him he would fly in her face, gave himself entirely over to dissipation, and was never out of the streets from his companions. This course he followed till he was fifteen years old, without giving his mind to any thing whatever, or the least reflection on what would become of him. In this situation, as he was one day playing according to custom, in the street, with his vagabond troop, a stranger passing by stood still to observe him.
This stranger was a famous magician, called by the writer of this story the African Magician; and by that name I shall call him with the more propriety, as he was a native of Africa, and had been but two days come from thence.
Whether the African magician, who was a good physiognomist, had observed in Aladdin’s countenance something which was absolutely necessary for the execution of the design he came about, he inquired artfully about his family, who he was, and what were his inclinations; and when he had learned all he desired to know, he went up to him, and taking him aside from his comrades, said to him, Child, was not your father called Mustapha the tailor? —Yes, sir, answered Aladdin, but he has been dead a long time.
At these words, the African magician threw his arms about Aladdin’s neck, and kissed him several times with tears in his eyes. Aladdin, who observed his tears, asked him, What made him weep? Alas! my son, cried the African magician with a sigh, how can I forbear? I am your uncle; your good father was my own brother. I have been a great many years abroad travelling, and now I am come home with the hopes of seeing him, you tell me he is dead. I assure you it is a sensible grief to me to be deprived of the comfort I expected. But it is some relief to my affliction, that as far as I can remember him, I knew you at first sight, you are so like him; and I see I am not deceived. Then he asked Aladdin, putting his hand into his purse, where his mother lived; and as soon as Aladdin had informed him, he gave him a handful of small money, saying to him, Go, my son, to your mother, give my love to her, and tell her that I will come and see her to-morrow, if I have time, that I may have the satisfaction of seeing where my good brother lived so long, and ended his days.
As soon as the African magician left his new-adopted nephew, Aladdin ran to his mother, overjoyed at the money his uncle had given him. Mother, said he, have I an uncle? No, child, replied his mother, you have no uncle by your father’s side or mine. I am just now come, answered Aladdin, from a man who says he is my uncle by my father’s side, assuring me that he is his brother. He cried and kissed me when I told him my father was dead; and to show you that what I tell you is truth, added he, pulling out the money, see what he has given me; he charged me to give his love to you, and to tell you, if he has any time to-morrow, he will come and pay you a visit, that he may see at the same time the house my father lived and died in. Indeed, child, replied the mother, your father had a brother, but he has been dead a long time, and I never heard of another.
The mother and son talked no more then of the African magician; but the next day Aladdin’s uncle found him playing in another part of the town with other children, and embracing him as before, put two pieces of gold into his hand, and said to him, Carry this, child, to your mother, and tell her that I will come and see her to-night, and bid her get us something for supper; but first show me the house where you live.
After Aladdin had showed the African magician the house, he carried the two pieces of gold to his mother, and when he had told her of his uncle’s intention, she went out and bought provisions; and considering she wanted various vessels, she went and borrowed them of her neighbours. She spent the whole day in preparing the supper; and at night, when it was ready, she said to Aladdin, Perhaps your uncle knows not how to find our house, go and see for him, and bring him if you meet with him.
Though Aladdin had showed the magician the house, he was very ready to go, when somebody knocked at the door, which Aladdin immediately opened; and the magician came in, loaded with wine and all sorts of fruits, which he brought for a dessert.
After the African magician had given what he brought into Aladdin’s hands, he saluted his mother, and desired her to show him the place where his brother Mustapha used to sit on the sofa; and when she had so done, he presently fell down and kissed it several times, crying out with tears in his eyes, My poor brother! how unhappy am I, not to have come soon enough to give you one last embrace! Aladdin’s mother desired him to sit down in the same place, but he would not. No, said he, I shall take care how I do that; but give me leave to sit here over against it, that if I am deprived of the satisfaction of seeing the master of a family so dear to me, I may at least have the pleasure of seeing the place where he used to sit. Aladdin’s mother pressed him no farther, but left him at his liberty to sit where he pleased.
When the magician had made choice of a place, and sat down, he began to enter into discourse with Aladdin’s mother: My good sister, said he, do not be surprised at your never having seen me all the time you have been married to my brother Mustapha, of happy memory. I have been forty years absent from this country, which is my native place, as well as my late brother’s; and during that time have travelled into the Indies, Persia, Arabia, Syria, and Egypt, and have resided in the finest towns of those countries; and afterwards crossed over into Africa, where I made a longer stay. At last, as it is natural for a man, how distant soever it may be, to remember his native country, relations and acquaintance, I was very desirous to see mine again, and to embrace my dear brother; and finding I had strength and courage enough to undertake so long a journey, I immediately made the necessary preparations for it, and set out. I will not tell you the length of time it took me, all the obstacles I met with, and what fatigues I have endured, to come hither; but nothing ever mortified and afflicted me so much as the hearing of my brother’s death, for whom I always had a brotherly love and friendship. I observed his features in the face of my nephew, your son, and distinguished him from a number of children with whom he was at play; he can tell you how I received the most melancholy news that ever reached my ears. But God be praised for all things! it is a comfort to me to find him again in a son, who has his most remarkable features.
The African magician, perceiving that Aladdin’s mother began to weep at the remembrance of her husband, changed the discourse, and turning towards Aladdin, asked him his name. I am called Aladdin, said he. Well, Aladdin, replied the magician, what business do you follow? Are you of any trade?
At this question Aladdin hung down his head, and was not a little dashed when his mother made answer, Aladdin is an idle fellow; his father, when alive, strove all he could to teach him his trade, but could not succeed; and since his death, notwithstanding all I can say to him, he does nothing but idle away his time in the streets, as you saw him, without considering he is no longer a child; and if you do not make him ashamed of it, and make him leave it off, I despair of his ever coming to any good. He knows that his father left him no fortune, and sees me endeavour to get bread by spinning cotton every day; for my part, I am resolved one of these days to turn him out of doors, and let him provide for himself.
After these words, Aladdin’s mother burst out into tears; and the magician said, This is not well, nephew; you must think of helping yourself, and getting your livelihood. There are a great many sorts of trades, consider if you have not an inclination to some of them; perhaps you did not like your father’s trade, and would prefer another; come, do not disguise your sentiments from me; I will endeavour to help you. But finding that Aladdin returned no answer; If you have no mind, continued he, to learn any trade, and prove an honest man, I will take a shop for you, and furnish it with all sorts of fine stuffs and linens, and set you to trade with them; and with the money you make with them, lay in fresh goods, and then you will live after an honourable way. Consult your own inclination, and tell me freely what you think of it: you shall always find me ready to keep my word.
This proposal greatly flattered Aladdin, who mortally hated work, and had sense enough to know that such sort of shops were very much esteemed and frequented, and the owners honoured and respected. He told the magician he had a greater inclination to that business than to any other, and that he should be very much obliged to him all his life for his kindness. Since this profession is agreeable, to you, said the African magician, I will carry you along with me to-morrow, and clothe you as richly and handsomely as the best merchants in the city, and after that we will think of opening such a shop as I mean.
Aladdin’s mother, who never till then could believe that the magician was her husband’s brother, no longer doubted it after his promises of kindness to her son. She thanked him for his good intentions; and after having exhorted Aladdin to render himself worthy of his uncle’s favour by his good behaviour, served up supper, at which they talked of several indifferent matters: and then the magician, who saw that the night was pretty far advanced, took his leave of the mother and son, and retired.
He came again the next day as he promised, and took Aladdin along with him to a great merchant, who sold all sorts of clothes for different ages and ranks ready made, and a variety of fine stuffs. He asked to see some that suited Aladdin in size; and after choosing a suit which he liked best, and rejecting others which he did not think handsome enough, he bid Aladdin choose those he preferred. Aladdin, charmed with the liberality of his new uncle, made choice of one, and the magician immediately bought it, and all things proper to it, and paid for it without haggling.
When Aladdin found himself so handsomely equipped from top to toe, he returned his uncle all imaginable thanks; who, on the other hand, promised never to forsake him, but always to take him along with him, which he did to the most frequented places in the city, and particularly where the capital merchants kept their shops. When he brought him into the street where they sold the richest stuffs and finest linens, he said to Aladdin, As you are soon to be a merchant as well as these, it is proper you should frequent these shops, and be acquainted with them. Then he showed him the largest and finest mosques, and carried him to the khans or inns where the merchants and travellers lodged, and afterwards to the sultan’s palace, where he had free access; and at last brought him to his own khan, where meeting with some merchants he had got acquainted with since his arrival, he gave them a treat, to bring them and his pretended nephew acquainted.
This treat lasted till night, when Aladdin would have taken his leave of his uncle to go home, but the magician would not let him go by himself, but conducted him safe to his mother, who, as soon as she saw him so finely dressed, was transported with joy, and bestowed a thousand blessings upon the magician for being at so great an expense upon her child. Generous relation, said she, I know not how to thank you for your liberality. I know that my son is not deserving of your favours; and was he ever so grateful, and answered your good intentions, he would be unworthy of them. For my part, added she, I thank you with all my soul, and wish you may live long enough to be a witness of my son’s gratitude, which he cannot better show than by regulating his conduct by your good advice.
Aladdin, replied the magician, is a good boy, and minds well enough, and I believe we shall do very well; but I am sorry for one thing, which is, that I cannot perform to-morrow what I promised, because it is Friday, and the shops will be shut up, and therefore we cannot hire or furnish one, but let it alone till Saturday. But I will call on him to-morrow, and take him to walk in the gardens, where people of the best fashion generally walk. Perhaps he has never seen these amusements, he has only hitherto been among children; but now he must see men. Then the African magician took his leave of the mother and the son, and retired. Aladdin, who was overjoyed to be so well clothed, anticipated the pleasure of walking in the gardens which lay about the town. He had never been out of the town, nor seen the environs, which were very beautiful and pleasant.
Aladdin rose early the next morning and dressed himself to be ready against his uncle called on him; and after he had waited some time, he began to be impatient, and stood watching for him at the door; but as soon as he perceived him coming, he told his mother, took his leave of her, and ran to meet him.
The magician caressed Aladdin when he came to him: Come along, my dear child, said he, and I will show you fine things. Then he led him out at one of the gates of the city, to some large fine houses, or rather palaces, to each of which belonged beautiful gardens, into which any body might go. At every house he came to, he asked Aladdin if he did not think it fine; and Aladdin was ready to answer when any one presented itself, crying out, Here is a finer house, uncle, than any we have seen yet. By this artifice, the cunning magician got Aladdin a pretty way in the country; and as he had a mind to carry him farther, to execute his design, he took an opportunity to sit down in one of the gardens by a fountain of clear water, which discharged itself by a lion’s mouth of bronze into a great basin, pretending to be tired, the better to rest Aladdin: Come, nephew, said he, you must be weary as well as me; let us rest ourselves, and we shall be better able to walk.
After they had sat down, the magician pulled from his girdle a handkerchief with cakes and fruit, which he had provided on purpose, and laid them on the edge of the basin. He broke a cake in two, gave one half to Aladdin, and ate the other himself: and in regard to the fruit, he left him at liberty to take which sort he liked best. —During this short repast, he exhorted his nephew to leave off keeping company with children, and seek that of wise and prudent men, to improve by their conversation; for, said he, you will soon be at man’s estate, and you cannot too early begin to imitate their conversation. When they had eaten as much as they liked, they got up, and pursued their walk through the gardens, which were separated from one another only by small ditches, which only marked out the limits without interrupting the communication; so great was the confidence the inhabitants reposed in each other. By this means, the African magician drew Aladdin insensibly beyond the gardens, and crossed the country till they almost came to the mountains.