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One of them says to the other, Is not the queen much in the wrong, not to love such an amiable prince as this? Certainly, replies the other; for my part, I do not understand it; and I know not why she goes out every night, and leaves him alone! Is it possible that he does not perceive it! Alas! says the first, how would you have him perceive it? She mixes every evening in his drink, the juice of a certain herb, which makes him sleep so sound all night, that she has time to go where she pleases; and as day begins to appear, she comes and lies down by him again, and wakes him by the smell of something she puts under his nose.
You may guess, my lord, how much I was surprised at this conversation, and with what sentiments it inspired me; yet, whatever emotions it excited in me, I had command enough over myself to dissemble, and feigned to awake without having heard one word of it.
The queen returned from the bath, we supped together, and before we went to bed, she, with her own hand, presented me with a cup full of such water as I was accustomed to drink: but instead of putting it into my mouth, I went to a window that was open, and threw out the water so quickly, that she did not perceive it, and I put the cup again into her hands, to persuade her that I had drank it.
We went to bed together, and soon after, believing that I was asleep, though I was not, she got up with so little precaution, that she said so loud that I could hear it distinctly, Sleep, and may you never wake again! She dressed herself speedily, and went out of the chamber. As Scheherazade spoke these words, she saw day appear, and stopped.
Dinarzade had heard her sister with a great deal of pleasure, and Schahriar thought the history of the king of the Black Isles so worthy of his curiosity, that he rose up full of impatience for the rest of it.
TWENTY-THIRD NIGHT.
An hour before day, Dinarzade being awake, failed not to call upon the sultaness, and said, Pray, dear sister, go on with the history of the young king of the four Black Islands; Scheherazade, calling to mind where she had left off, resumed the story thus:
As soon as the queen my wife went out, continued the king of the Black Islands, I got up, dressed me in haste, took my scimitar, and followed her so quick, that I soon heard the sound of her feet before me, and then walked softly after her, for fear of being heard. She passed through several gates, which opened upon her pronouncing some magical words; and the last she opened was that of the garden, which she entered. I stopped at that gate, that she might not perceive me as she crossed a plat, and looking after her as far as the darkness of the night permitted, I perceived that she entered a little wood, whose walks were guarded by thick pallisades. I went thither by another way, and slipping behind the pallisades of a long walk, I saw her walking there with a man.
I was very attentive to their discourse, and heard her say thus to her gallant: I do not deserve to be upbraided by you for want of diligence; you know very well what hinders me; but if all the tokens of love that I have already given you, be not enough, I am ready to give you greater: you need but command me, you know my power. I will, if you desire it, before sun-rising, change this great city, and this fine palace, into frightful ruins, which shall be inhabited by nothing but wolves, owls, and ravens. If you wish me to transport all the stones of those walls so solidly built, beyond mount Caucasus, and out of the bounds of the habitable world, speak but the word, and all those places shall undergo a change.
As the queen finished these words, her gallant and she came to the end of the walk, turned to enter another, and passed before me. I had already drawn my scimitar, and her gallant being next me, I struck him in the neck, and made him fall to the ground. I thought I had killed him, and therefore retired speedily, without making myself known to the queen, whom I chose to spare because she was my kinswoman.
The blow I had given her gallant was mortal; but she preserved his life by the force of her enchantments; in such a manner, however, that he could not be said to be either dead or alive. As I crossed the garden, to return to the palace, I heard the queen cry out lamentably; and judging by that now much she was grieved, I was pleased that I had spared her life.
When I returned to her apartment, I went to bed, and being satisfied with having punished the villain that did me the injury, I went to sleep; and when I awaked next morning, found the queen lying by me. Scheherazade was obliged to stop here because she saw day.
O, heaven! sister, says Dinarzade, how it troubles me that you can say no more. Sister, replies the sultaness, you ought to have awaked me more early, it is your fault. I will make amends next night, replies Dinarzade, for I doubt not out the sultan will be as willing to hear out the story as I am; and I hope he will be so good as to let you live one day more.
TWENTY-FOURTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade was actually as good as her word. She called the sultaness very early, saying, Dear sister, if you be not asleep, pray finish the agreeable history of the king of the Black Isles; I am ready to die with impatience to know how he came to be changed into marble. You shall hear it, replies Scheherazade, if the sultan will give me leave.
I found the queen lying by me, says the king of the Black Islands: I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I got up without making any noise, and went to my closet, where I made an end of dressing myself. I afterwards went and held my council, and at my return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair hanging about her eyes, and part of it torn off, presented herself before me, and said: Sir, I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to see me in this condition; three afflicting pieces of news, I have just now received all at once, are the cause of my heavy grief, of which the tokens you see are but very faint expressions. Alas! what is that news, madam, said I. The death of the queen, my dear mother, answered she; that of the king, my father, killed in battle; and that of one of my brothers, who is also fallen down a precipice.
I was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide the true cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected me of having killed her gallant. Madam, says I, I am so far from blaming your grief, that I assure you, I take my share in it. I should very much wonder if you were insensible of so great a loss: mourn on; your tears are so many proofs of your good nature; I hope, however, that time and reason will moderate your grief.
She retired into her apartment, where giving herself wholly up to sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning, and afflicting herself. At the end of that time, she begged leave of me to build a burying place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days; I agreed to it, and she built a stately palace, with a cupola, that may be seen from hence, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished, she caused her gallant to be brought thither, from the place whither she had caused him to be carried the same night that I wounded him; she had hindered his dying, by a drink she gave him, and carried to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.
Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he was not only unable to walk and to help himself, but had also lost the use of his speech, and gave no sign of life, but by his looks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say to him all that her foolish passion could inspire, yet every day she made him two long visits. I was very well informed of all this, but pretended to know nothing of it.
One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears, to see how the princess employed herself; and going to a place where she could not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am afflicted to the highest degree to see you in this condition; I am as sensible as yourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I always speak to you, and you do not answer me; How long will you be silent. Speak only one word: Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these I spend here in partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you, and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you, to the empire of the universe.
At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs and sobs, I lost all patience; and discovering myself, came up to her and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to give over this sorrow, which dishonours us both; you have too much forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, said she, if you have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you to put no restraint upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal grief, which it is impossible for time to lessen.
When I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her duty, served only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired. She continued every day to visit her gallant, and for two whole years gave herself up to excessive grief.
I went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there. I hid myself again, and heard her speak thus to her gallant: It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you return no answer to the expressions of love I give you by my discourse and groans. Is it from insensibility, or contempt? O, tomb! hast thou abated that excessive love he had for me? Hast thou shut those eyes that showed me so much love, and were all my joy? No, no, I believe nothing of it. Tell me rather, by what miracle thou becamest the depository of the rarest treasure that ever was in the world.
I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these words; for, in short, this gallant so much doted upon, this adored mortal, was not such a one as you would imagine him to have been. He was a black Indian, a native of that country. I say, I was so enraged at that discourse, that I discovered myself all of a sudden, and addressing the tomb in my turn: O, tomb! cried I, why dost not thou swallow up that monster in nature, or rather, why dost not thou swallow up the gallant and his mistress?
I had scarce finished these words, when the queen, who sat by the black, rose up like a fury. Cruel man! said she, thou art the cause of my grief; do not you think that I know it? I have dissembled it but too long; it is thy barbarous hand which hath brought the object of my love into this lamentable condition; and you are so hard-hearted as to come and insult a despairing lover. Yes, said I, in a rage, it was I who chastised that monster, according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I repent now that I did not do it; thou hast abused my goodness too long. As I spoke these words, I drew out my scimitar, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but she, steadfastly beholding me, said, with a jeering smile, Moderate thy anger. At the same time, she pronounced words I did not understand; and afterwards added, By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee immediately to become half marble and half man. Immediately, my lord, I became such as you see me already, a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.
Upon which Dinarzade says, Dear sister, I am extremely obliged to the sultan: it is to his goodness I owe the extraordinary pleasure I have in your stories. My sister, replies the sultaness, if the sultan will be so good as to suffer me to live till to-morrow, I shall tell you a thing that will afford as much satisfaction as any thing you have yet heard. Though Schahriar had not resolved to defer the death of Scheherazade a month longer, he could not have ordered her to be put to death that day.
TWENTY-FIFTH NIGHT.
Towards the end of the night, Dinarzade cried, Sister, if I do not trespass too much upon your complaisance, I would pray you to finish the history of the king of the Black Islands. Scheherazade having awaked upon her sister’s call, prepared to give her the satisfaction she required, and began thus:
The king, half marble and half man, continued his history to the sultan thus: After this cruel magician, unworthy of the name of a queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by another enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing, and full of people; she abolished the houses, the public places and markets, and reduced it to the pond and desert field, which you may have seen: the fishes of four colours in the pond are the four sorts of people, of different religions, who inhabited the place. The white are the Mussulmen; the red, the Persians, who worshipped the fire; the blue, the Christians; and the yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the magician, who, to add to my affliction, told me with her own mouth those effects of her rage. But this is not all: her revenge was not satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the metamorphosis of my person; she comes every day, and gives me over my naked shoulders a hundred blows with an ox-pizzle, which makes me all over blood: and when she has done, covers me with a coarse stuff of goat’s hair, and throws over it this robe of brocade that you see, not to do me honour, but to mock me.
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After this part of the discourse, the young king could not withhold his tears; and the sultan’s heart was so pierced with the relation, that he could not speak one word to comfort him. A little time after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, cried out, “Mighty Creator of all things, I submit myself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I endure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will it should be so; but I hope thy infinite goodness will reward me for it.”
The sultan being much moved by the recital of so strange a story, and animated to avenge this unfortunate prince, says to him, Tell me whither this perfidious magician retires, and where may be her unworthy gallant, who is buried before his death. My lord, replies the prince, her gallant, as I have already told you, is in the Palace of Tears, in a handsome tomb in form of a dome, and that palace joins to this castle on the side of the gate. As to the magician, I cannot precisely tell whither she retires, but every day at sun-rising she goes to see her gallant, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me, as I have told you; and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself against so great a cruelty. She carries him the drink with which she has hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never speaking to her since he was wounded.
Unfortunate prince, says the sultan, you can never enough be lamented! Nobody can be more sensibly touched with your condition than I am; never did such an extraordinary misfortune befal any man, and those who write your history will have the advantage to relate something that surpasses all that has ever yet been written. There wants but the vengeance which is due to you, and I will omit nothing that can be done to procure it.
While the sultan discoursed upon the subject with the young prince, he told him who he was, and for what end he entered the castle, and thought on a way to avenge him, which he communicated to him. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for effecting their design, but deferred the execution of it till the next day. In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but the poor young prince passed the night without sleep, as usual, having never slept since he was enchanted; but conceived some hopes of being speedily delivered from his misery.
Next morning the sultan got up before day, and, in order to execute his design, he hid in a corner his upper garment, which would have encumbered him, and went to the Palace of Tears. He found it enlightened with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and a delicious scent issued from several boxes of fine gold of admirable workmanship, all ranged in excellent order. As soon as he saw the bed where the black lay, he drew his scimitar, killed the wretch without resistance, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After this he went and lay down in the black’s bed, took his scimitar with him under the counterpane, and waited there to execute his design.
The magician arrived in a little time. She first went into the chamber where her husband, the king of the Black Islands, was, stripped him, and beat him with the ox-pizzle in the most barbarous manner. The poor prince filled the palace with his lamentations to no purpose, and conjured her in the most affecting manner to take pity on him; but the cruel woman would not give over till she had given him a hundred blows. You had no compassion on my lover, said she, and you are to expect none from me. Scheherazade, perceiving day, stopped, and could go no further.
O, heavens! says Dinarzade, sister, this was a barbarous enchantress indeed! but must we stop here? Will you not tell us whether she received the chastisement she deserved? My dear sister, says the sultaness, I desire nothing more than to acquaint you with it to-morrow; but you know that depends on the sultan’s pleasure. After what Schahriar had heard, he was far from any design to put Scheherazade to death; on the contrary, he said to himself, I will not take away her life until she has finished the surprising story, though it should last for two months. It will always be in my power to keep the oath I have made.
TWENTY-SIXTH NIGHT.
As soon as Dinarzade thought it time to call the sultaness, she said to her, How much should I be obliged to you, dear sister, if you would tell us what passed in the Palace of Tears. Schahriar having signified that he was as curious to know it as Dinarzade, the sultaness resumed the story of the young enchanted prince as follows:
Sir, after the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a hundred blows with the ox-pizzle, she put on again his covering of goat’s hair, and his brocade gown over all. She went afterwards to the Palace of Tears, and as she entered the same, she renewed her tears and lamentations; then approaching the bed where she thought her gallant was, What cruelty, cries she, was it to disturb the satisfaction of so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O, thou who reproachest me that I am too inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment! Cruel prince! Does not thy barbarity surpass my vengeance? Ah, traitor! in attempting the life of the object which I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas! says she, addressing herself to the sultan, while she thought she spoke to the black, my sun, my life! will you always be silent? Are you resolved to let me die, without giving me the comfort of telling me that you love me? My soul, speak one word to me, at least, I conjure you.
The sultan, making as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and counterfeiting the language or the blacks, answered the queen with a grave tone, “There is no strength or power but in God alone, who is almighty.” At these words the enchantress, who did not expect them, gave a great shout, to signify her excessive joy. My dear lord, cried she, do not I deceive myself? Is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me? Unhappy wretch! said the sultan, art thou worthy that I should answer thy discourse? Alas! replies the queen, why do you reproach me thus? The cries, replied he, the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, hinder me from sleeping night and day. I should have been cured long ago, and have recovered the use of my speech, hadst thou disenchanted him. That is the cause of my silence, which you complain of. Very well, says the enchantress; to pacify you, I am ready to do what you will command me: would you have me restore him as he was? Yes, replies the sultan; make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no more disturbed with his cries.
The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears: she took a cup of water, and pronounced words over it, which caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She went afterwards to the hall to the young king, her husband, and threw the water upon him, saying, “If the Creator of all things did form thee so as thou art at present, or if he be angry with thee, do not change: but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou wast before.” She had scarce spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up freely, with all imaginable joy, and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, Get thee gone from this castle, and never return here on pain of death! The young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the enchantress, without replying a word, and retired to a remote place, where he patiently awaited the success of the design which the sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears; and, supposing that she still spoke to the black, says, Dear lover, I have done what you ordered; let nothing now hinder you from giving me that satisfaction of which I have been deprived so long.
The sultan continued to counterfeit the language of the blacks: That which you have just now done, said he, is not sufficient to my cure. You have only eased me of part of my disease; you must cut it up by the roots. My lovely black, replies she, what do you mean by the roots? Unfortunate woman, replies the sultan, do not you understand that I mean the town, and its inhabitants, and the four islands, which thou hast destroyed by thy enchantments? The fishes every night at midnight raise their heads out of the pond, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things as they were, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to rise.
The enchantress, filled with hopes from these words, cried out in a transport of joy, My heart! my soul! you shall soon be restored to your health, for I will immediately do what you command me. Accordingly she went that moment; and when she came to the brink of the pond, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it —Here Scheherazade saw day, and stopped.
Dinarzade says to the sultaness, Sister, I am much rejoiced to hear that the young king of the four Black Islands was disenchanted, and I already consider the town and the inhabitants as restored to their former state; but I long to know what will become of the enchantress. Have a little patience, replies the sultaness; you shall have the satisfaction you desire tomorrow, if the sultan, my lord, will consent to it. Schahriar, having resolved on this already, as was said before, rose up, and went about his business.
TWENTY-SEVENTH NIGHT.
At the usual hour, Dinarzade called upon the sultaness thus: Dear sister, pray tell us what was the fate of the magician queen, as you promised us. Upon which Scheherazade went on thus: The enchantress had no sooner sprinkled the water, and pronounced some words over the fishes and the pond, but the city was immediately restored. The fishes became men, women, and children: Mahometans, Christians, Persians, or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before; every one having recovered their natural form. The houses and shops were immediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the enchantment. The sultan’s numerous retinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see themselves in an instant in the middle of a large, handsome, well-peopled city.
To return to the enchantress: as soon as she had effected this wonderful change, she returned with all diligence to the Palace of Tears, that she might reap the fruits of it. My dear lord, cried she, as she entered, I come to rejoice with you for the return of your health. I have done all that you required of me; then pray rise, and give me your hand. Come near, said the sultan, still counterfeiting the language of the blacks. She did so. You are not near enough, replied he; come nearer. She obeyed. Then he rose up, and seized her by the arm so suddenly, that she had not time to discover who it was, and with a blow of his scimitar cut her in two, so that one half fell one way and the other another. This done, he left the carcass upon the place; and going out of the Palace of Tears, he went to seek the young king of the Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience; and when he found him, Prince, said he, embracing him, rejoice; you have nothing to fear now, your cruel enemy is dead.
The young prince returned thanks to the sultan in such a manner as shewed that he was thoroughly sensible of the kindness that he had done him, and in return, wished him a long life and all happiness. You may henceforward, said the sultan, dwell peaceably in your capital, except you will go to mine, which is so near, where you shall be very welcome, and have as much honour and respect shewn you as if you were at home. Potent monarch, to whom I am so much indebted, replied the king, you think, then, that you are very near your capital? Yes, said the sultan, I know it; it is not above four or five hours’ journey. It will take you a whole year’s journey, said the prince. I do believe, indeed, that you came hither from your capital in the time you spoke of, because mine was enchanted; but since the enchantment is taken off, things are changed: however, this shall not prevent my following you, were it to the utmost corners of the earth. You are my deliverer; and that I may give you proofs of my acknowledging this during my whole life, I am willing to accompany you, and to leave my kingdom without regret.
The sultan was extremely surprised to understand that he was so far from his dominions, and could not imagine how it could be. But the young king of the Black Isles convinced him beyond the possibility of doubt. Then the sultan replied, It is no matter, the trouble of returning to my own country is sufficiently recompensed by the satisfaction of having obliged you, and by acquiring you for a son: for since you will do me the honour to accompany me, as I have no child, I look upon you as such; and from this moment I appoint you my heir and successor.
This discourse between the sultan and the king of the Black Islands concluded with the most affectionate embraces; after which the young prince was totally taken up in making preparations for his journey, which were finished in three weeks’ time, to the great regret of his court and subjects, who agreed to receive at his hands one of his nearest kindred for their king.
At last the sultan and the young prince began their journey, with a hundred camels laden with inestimable riches from the treasury of the young king, followed by fifty handsome gentlemen on horseback, perfectly well mounted and dressed. They had a very happy journey; and when the sultan, who had sent couriers to give advice of his delay, and of the adventure which had occasioned it, came near his capital, the principal officers he had left there came to receive him, and to assure him that his long absence had occasioned no alteration in his empire. The inhabitants came out also in great crowds, receiving him with acclamations, and made public rejoicings for several days.
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Next day after his arrival, the sultan gave all his courtiers a very ample account of the events which, contrary to his expectation, had detained him so long. He acquainted them with his having adopted the king of the four Black Islands, who was willing to leave a great kingdom, to accompany and live with him; and, in short, in reward of their loyalty, he made each of them presents according to their rank.
As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance of the young prince, the sultan gave him a plentiful fortune, which made him and his family happy the rest of their days.
Here Scheherazade made an end of the story of the Fisherman and the Genie. Dinarzade signified that she had taken a great deal of pleasure in it; and Schahriar having said the same thing, the sultaness told them, that she knew another which was much finer, and if the sultan would give her leave, she would tell it them next morning, for day began to appear. Schahriar, bethinking himself that he had granted the sultaness a month’s reprieve, and being curious moreover to know if this new story would be as agreeable as she promised, got up, with a desire to hear it next night.
TWENTY-EIGHTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade, according to custom, did not forget to call the sultaness when it was time. Madam, said she, I know not what is the matter with me, but I know very well, that one of the stories which you tell so agreeably would be a great relief against that melancholy which eats me up. Scheherazade, without answering her, began immediately, and told the sultan the following story:
The Story of the Three Calendars,[3]sons of Kings, and of the Five Ladies of Bagdad.
Sir, said she, in the reign of Caliph Haroun Alraschid, there was at Bagdad, the place of his residence, a porter, who, notwithstanding his mean and laborious business, was a fellow of wit and good humour. One morning, as he was at the place where he usually plied, with a great basket, waiting for employment, a handsome young lady, covered with a great muslin veil, accosted him, and said, with a pleasant air, Hark ye, porter, take your basket, and follow me. The porter, charmed with those few words, pronounced in so agreeable a manner, took his basket immediately, set it on his head, and followed the lady, saying, O, happy day! O, day of good luck!
The lady stopped presently before a gate that was shut, and knocked: a Christian, with a venerable long white beard, opened the gate, and she put money into his hand, without speaking one word: but the Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and in a little time after brought a large jug of excellent wine. Take this jug, said the lady to the porter, and put it in your basket. This being done, she commanded him to follow her; and as she went on, the porter said still, O, happy day! this is a day of agreeable surprise and joy!
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The lady stopped at a fruit shop, where she bought several sorts of apples, apricots, peaches, quinces, lemons, citrons, oranges, myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamin, and some other sorts of flowers and fragrant plants; she bade the porter put all into his basket, and follow her. As she went by a butcher’s stall, she made him weigh her twenty-five pounds of his best meat, which she ordered the porter to put also into his basket. At another shop she took capers, tarragon, cucumbers, sasafras, and other herbs, to be preserved in vinegar; at another shop she bought pistachios, walnuts, filberts, almonds, kernels of pine apples, and such other fruits; and at another she bought all sorts of confectionary. When the porter had put all those things into his basket, and perceived that it grew full, My good lady, said he, you ought to have given me notice that you had so much provision to carry, and then I would have got a horse, or rather a camel, to have carried them; for if you buy ever so little more, I shall not be able to carry it. The lady laughed at the fellow’s pleasant humour, and ordered him still to follow her.
Then she went to a druggist, where she furnished herself with all manner of sweet-scented waters, cloves, musk, pepper, ginger, and a great piece of ambergris, and several other Indian spices. This quite filled the porter’s basket, and she ordered him to follow her. They walked till they came to a magnificent house, whose front was adorned with fine columns, and which had a gate of ivory. There they stopped, and the lady knocked softly. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off.
I must own, sister, says Dinarzade, the beginning of this story has a great deal of curiosity; I fancy the sultan will not deprive himself of the pleasure of hearing the rest of it. And, indeed, Schahriar was so far from ordering the sultaness to be put to death, that he longed impatiently for next night, to know what passed in the fine house.
TWENTY-NINTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade being awake before day, addressed the sultaness thus: Sister, if you be awake, I would pray you to continue the history you began yesterday; and Scheherazade went on with it thus:
While the young lady and the porter staid for the opening of the gate, the porter had a thousand thoughts: he wondered that such a fine lady should come abroad to buy provisions: he concluded she could not be a slave, her air was too noble; and therefore he thought she must needs be a woman of quality. Just as he was about to ask her some questions upon that head, another lady came to open the gate, and appeared to him so beautiful, that he was perfectly surprised, or rather so much struck with her charms, that he had like to have let his basket fall, for he had never seen any beauty that equalled her.
The lady who brought the porter with her, perceiving his disorder, and what occasioned it, diverted herself with it, and took so much pleasure to examine his looks, that she forgot the gate was opened. Upon this the beautiful lady said to her, Pray, sister, come in; what do you stay for? Do you not see this poor man so heavily laden, that he is scarcely able to stand under it?
When she entered with the porter, the lady who opened the gate shut it, and all three, after having gone through a very fine porch, came into a spacious court, encompassed with an open gallery, which had a communication with several apartments on a floor, and extraordinarily magnificent. There was at the farther end of the court a sofa richly adorned, with a throne of amber in the middle of it, supported by four columns of ebony, enriched with diamonds and pearls of an extraordinary size, and covered with red satin embroidered with Indian gold of admirable workmanship. In the middle of the court there was a great fountain, faced with white marble, and full of clear water, which fell into it abundantly out of the mouth of a lion of brass.
x
The porter, though heavy laden, could not but admire the magnificence of this house, and the excellent order that every thing was placed in; but that which particularly captivated his attention was a third lady, who seemed to be a greater beauty than the second, and was seated upon the throne just now mentioned. She came down from it, as soon as she saw the two former ladies, and advanced towards them; he judged by the respect which the others showed her, that she was the chief, in which he was not mistaken. This lady was called Zobeide, she who opened the gate was called Safie, and Amine was the name of her who went out to buy the provisions.
Zobeide said to the two ladies, when she came to them, Sisters, do not you see that this honest man is ready to sink under his burden? Why do not you ease him of it? Then Amine and Safie took the basket, the one before and the other behind, and Zobeide also lent her hand, and all three together set it on the ground; then emptied it; and when they had done, the beautiful Amine took out money, and paid the porter liberally. Day-light appearing, Scheherazade was obliged to keep silence; but Schahriar, having a great desire to hear the rest of the story, ordered the sultaness to go on with it next night.
THIRTIETH NIGHT.
Next morning Dinarzade being awaked by her impatience to hear the rest of the story, said to the sultaness: For the sake of heaven, sister, if you be not asleep, give us an account of what the ladies did with the provisions brought by Amine. You shall quickly hear it, said Scheherazade, if you listen to my story, which she resumed as follows:
The porter, very well satisfied with the money he had received, was to have taken up his basket, and be gone; but he could not tell how to think on it. Do what he could, he found himself stopped by the pleasure of seeing three such beauties, who appeared to him equally charming; for Amine having now laid aside her veil, was as handsome as either of them. What surprised him most was, that he saw no man about the house, yet most of the provisions he brought in, as the dry fruits, and the several sorts of cakes and confections, were fit chiefly for those who could drink and make merry.
Zobeide thought at first, that the porter staid only to take breath; but perceiving that he staid too long, What do you wait for? said she: are you not well enough paid? And turning to Amine, said, Sister, give him something more, that he may depart satisfied. Madam, replied the porter, it is not that which keeps me, I am over and above paid; I am sensible that I am unmannerly to stay longer than I ought, but I hope you will be so good as to pardon me, if I tell you, that I am astonished to see that there is no man with three ladies of such extraordinary beauty; and you know that a company of women without men is as melancholy a thing as a company of men without women. To this he added several other pleasant things, to prove what he said, and did not forget the Bagdad proverb, That the table is not completely furnished, except there be four in company: and so concluded that since they were but three, they wanted a fourth.
The ladies fell a laughing at the porter’s discourse; after which, Zobeide said to him very gravely, Friend, you are a little too bold; and though you do not deserve that I should enter into particulars with you, yet I am willing to tell you, that we are three sisters, who do our business so secretly, that no body knows any thing of it. We have too great reason to be cautious of acquainting indiscreet persons with it; and a good author that we have read, says, “Keep your secret and do not reveal it to any body. He that reveals it is no longer master of it. If your own breast cannot keep your secret, how do you think that another person will keep it?”
My ladies, replied the porter, by your very air, I judged at first that you were persons of extraordinary merit, and I conceive that I am not mistaken; though fortune has not given me wealth enough to raise me above my mean profession, yet I have not failed to cultivate my mind as much as I could, by reading books of science and history: and allow me, if you please, to tell you, that I have also read in another author a maxim which I have always happily practised: “We do not conceal our secrets,” says he, “but from such persons as are known to all the world to want discretion, and would abuse the confidence we put in them; but we make no scruple to discover them to prudent persons, because we know they can keep them.” A secret with me is as sure as if it were in a closet, whose key is lost, and the door sealed up.
Zobeide perceiving that the porter did not want sense, but conceiving he had a mind to share in their treat, she replied to him, smiling, You know that we are about to have a treat, and you know also that we have been at a considerable expense, and it is not just that you should have a share of it, without contributing towards it. The beautiful Safie seconded her sister, and said to the porter, Friend, have you never heard that which is commonly said, “If you bring any thing with you, you shall be welcome; but if you bring nothing, you must get you gone with nothing?”
The porter, notwithstanding his rhetoric, must in all probability have retired in confusion, if Amine had not taken his part, and said to Zobeide and Safie, My dearest sisters, I conjure you to let him stay with us; I need not tell you that he will divert us, you see well enough that he is capable of that; I must needs tell you, that unless he had been very willing, as well as nimble, and hardy enough to follow me, I could not have done so much business in so little time: besides, should I repeat to you all the obliging expressions he used to me by the way, you would not be surprised at my protecting him.
At these words of Amine, the porter was so much transported with joy, that he fell on his knees, kissed the ground at the feet of that charming person, and raising himself up, said, Most beautiful lady, you began my good fortune to-day, and now you complete it by this generous action; I cannot enough testify my acknowledgment for it. As to what remains, my ladies, said he, addressing himself to all three sisters, since you do me so great honour, do not think that I will abuse it, or look upon myself as a person that deserves it. No, I shall always look upon myself as one of your most humble slaves. When he had spoken these words, he would have returned the money he had received, but the grave Zobeide ordered him to keep it. That which we have once given, said she, to reward those who have served us, we never take again. —Here day began to dawn, which put Scheherazade to silence.
Dinarzade, who listened with a great deal of attention, was much troubled at it, but had this comfort, however, that the sultan, who was as curious as she to know what passed betwixt the three beautiful ladies and the porter, ordered the sultaness to go on with the rest of the story next night, and rose up to go about his business.
THIRTY-FIRST NIGHT.
The next morning, Dinarzade did not fail to awaken the sultaness at the ordinary time, and said, Dear sister, if you are not asleep, I would pray you, (until break of day, which is near at hand,) to go on with that agreeable story you began. Upon which Scheherazade addressed the sultan thus: Sir, with your leave, I am willing to satisfy my sister’s curiosity; and at the same time, went on with the story of the Three Calenders.
Zobeide would not take back the money from the porter, but said, My friend, in consenting that you stay with us, I must forewarn you, that it is not only on condition that you keep secret what we have required you, but also that you observe exactly the rules of good manners and civility. In the mean time the charming Amine put off the apparel she went abroad with, put on her night-gown that she might be more easy, and covered the table, which she furnished with several sorts of meat, and upon a side-board she set bottles of wine and cups of gold. Soon after the ladies took their places, and made the porter sit down by them, who was overjoyed to see himself at table with three such admirable beauties. After they had eaten a little, Amine, who sat next the sideboard, took up a bottle and a cup, filled out wine, and drank first herself, according to the custom of the Arabians; then she filled the cup to her sisters, who drank in course as they sat; and at last she filled it the fourth time to the porter, who, as he received it, kissed Amine’s hand; and before he drank, sung a song to this purpose: That as the wind brings along with it the sweet scents of the perfumed places through which it passes, so the wine he was going to drink, coming from her fair hands, received a more exquisite taste than what it had of its own nature. This song pleased the ladies so much, that each of them sung another in their turn. In short, they were very merry all dinner-time, which lasted a long while, and nothing was wanting that could make it agreeable. The day being almost spent, Safie spoke in the name of the three ladies, and said to the porter, Arise, and be gone; it is time for you to depart. But the porter, not willing to leave so good company, cried, Alas! ladies, whither do you command me to go in the condition I am in? I am quite beside myself, by what I have seen since I came hither, and having also drank above my usual quantity, I shall never find the way home: allow me this night to repose in any place where you please, for no less time is necessary for me to recover myself; but go when I will, I shall leave the best part of myself behind me.
Amine pleaded the second time for the porter, saying, Sisters, he is in the right; I am pleased with the request, he having already diverted us so well; and, if you will take my advice, or if you love me as much as I think you do, let us keep him, to pass away the remaining part of the night. Sister, answered Zobeide, we can refuse you nothing; and then turning to the porter, said, We are willing once more to grant your request, but upon this new condition, that whatever we do in your presence relating to ourselves or any thing else, take heed you do not once open your mouth to ask the reason of it; for if you ask questions about that which does not belong to you, you may chance to know that which will be no way pleasing to you; beware, therefore, and do not be too curious to dive into the motives of our actions.
Madam, replied the porter, I promise to observe this condition with such exactness, that you shall have no cause to reproach me with breaking it, and far less to punish my indiscretion: my tongue shall be immoveable on this occasion, and my eye like a looking-glass, which retains nothing of the object that is set before it. And to show you, said Zobeide with a serious countenance, that what we demand of you is not a new thing among us, rise up, and read what is written over our gate on the inside.
The porter went thither, and read these words, written in large characters of gold: “He who speaks of things that do not concern him, shall hear of things that will not please him.” Returning again to the three sisters, Ladies, said he, I give you my oath, that you shall never hear me speak any thing which does not concern me, or wherein you may have any concern.
This agreement being made, Amine brought in supper, and after the room was set round with tapers, that were mixed with aloes and ambergris, which gave a most agreeable scent, as well as a delicate light, she sat down at table with her sisters and the porter. They began again to eat and drink, sing, and repeat verses. The ladies took pleasure to fuddle the porter, under pretext of causing him to drink their healths, and abundance of witty sentences passed on both sides. In short, as they were all in the best humour in the world, they heard a knocking at the gate.
Scheherazade was obliged to stop here, because she observed day-light appearing.
The sultan, not doubting the sequel of this history deserved to be heard, put it off till the day following, and so arose.
THIRTY-SECOND NIGHT.
The next night being almost at an end, Dinarzade called to the sultaness; for heaven’s sake, sister, if you are awake, let me pray you to continue the story of the three fair ladies: I am very impatient till I know who it was that knocked at their gate. You shall hear it immediately, said she; I am sure that what I am now going to relate is worthy of my lord the sultan’s attention.
When the ladies, said she, heard the knocking, they all three got up to open the gate; but Safie, to whom this office particularly belonged, was the nimblest; which her other two sisters perceiving, sat down till she came back, to acquaint them who it could be that had any business with them so late. Safie returning, said, Sisters, we have here a very fine opportunity to pass a good part of the night with much satisfaction, and if you be of the same mind with me, we shall not let it slip. There are three calenders at our gate, at least they appear to be such by their habit; but that which you will most admire is, they are all three blind of the right eye, and have their heads, beards, and eye-brows shaved, and, as they say, are but just come to Bagdad, where they never were before; and it being night, and not knowing where to find any lodging, they happened by chance to knock at this gate, and pray us, for the love of heaven, to have compassion on them, and receive them into the house; they care not what place we put them in, provided they may be under shelter; they would be satisfied with a stable; they are young and handsome enough, and seem also to be men of good sense; but I cannot without laughing think of their pleasant and uniform figure. Here Safie fell a laughing so heartily, that it put the two sisters and the porter into the same mood. My dear sisters, said she, are you content that they come in? it is impossible but with such persons as I have already described them to be, we shall finish the day better than we began it; they will afford us diversion enough, and put us to no charge, because they desire shelter only for this night, and resolve to leave us as soon as day appears.
Zobeide and Amine made some difficulty to grant Safie’s request, for reasons they well knew; but she having so great a desire to obtain this favour, they could not refuse her. Go then, said Zobeide, and bring them in; but do not forget to acquaint them that they must not speak of any thing which does not concern them, and cause them to read what is written over the gate. Safie ran out with a great deal of joy, and in a little time after returned with the three calenders in her company.
At their entrance they made a profound bow to the ladies, who rose up to receive them, told them most obligingly that they were very welcome, that they were glad to have met with an opportunity to oblige them, and to contribute towards relieving them from the fatigue of their journey, and at last invited them to sit down with them.
The magnificence of the place, and the civility they received in it, made the calenders conceive a great idea of these handsome ladies; but, before they sat down, having by chance cast their eyes upon the porter, whom they saw clad almost like one of those other calenders with whom they are in controversy about several points of discipline, because they never shave their beards nor eyebrows; one of them said, Look here, I believe we have got one of our revolted Arabian brethren.
The porter being half asleep, and having his head warm with wine, was affronted at these words, and with a fierce look, without stirring from his place, answered, Sit you down, and do not meddle with what does not concern you. Have you not read the inscription over the gate? Do not pretend to make people live after your fashion, but follow ours.
Honest man, said the calender, do not put yourself in a passion; we should be very sorry to give you the least occasion; on the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands. Upon which, to put an end to the dispute, the ladies interposed, and pacified them. When the calenders sat down at table, the ladies served them with meat; and Safie, being most pleased with them, did not let them want for drink.
Scheherazade stopped her discourse, because she saw day appear, and the sultan got up to follow his affairs, and promised to hear the rest of the story next day; for he had a great desire to know why those three calenders were blind, and all three of the same eye.
THIRTY-THIRD NIGHT.
An hour before day, Dinarzade being awake, said to the sultaness, Dear sister, pray let me know what passed between the ladies and the calenders. With all my heart, replied Scheherazade, and continued her story in the manner following:
After the calenders had eaten and drank liberally, they signified to the ladies, that they had a great desire to entertain them with a concert of music, if they had any instruments in the house, and would cause them to be brought: they willingly accepted the proffer, and fair Safie going to fetch them, returned again in a moment, and presented them with a flute of her own country fashion, another of the Persian sort, and a tabor. Each man took the instrument he liked, and all three together began to play a tune. The ladies, who knew the words of a merry song that suited the air, joined the concert with their voices; but the words of the song made them now and then stop, and fall into excessive laughter.
In the height of this diversion, and when the company were in the midst of their jollity, somebody knocked at the gate. Safie left off singing, and went to see who it was. But, sir, said Scheherazade to the sultan, it is fit your majesty should know why this knocking happened so late at the ladies’ house. Now the reason was this: The Caliph Haroun Alraschid was accustomed to walk abroad in disguise very often by night, that he might see with his own eyes if every thing was quiet in the city, and that no disorders were committed in it.
This night the caliph went out pretty early on his rambles, accompanied by Giafar his grand vizier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs of his palace, all disguised in merchant’s habits; and passing through the street where the three ladies dwelt, he heard the sound of the music and great fits of laughter; upon which he commanded the vizier to knock, because he would go in, to know the reason of that jollity. The vizier told him in vain, that it was some women merry making; that without question their heads were warm with wine, and that it would not be proper he should expose himself to be affronted by them; besides, it was not yet an unlawful hour, and therefore he ought not to disturb them in their mirth. —No matter, said the caliph, I command you to knock. So it was the grand vizier Giafar that knocked at the ladies’ gate by the caliph’s order, because he himself would not be known. Safie opened the gate, and the vizier perceiving, by the light that she held in her hand, that she was an incomparable beauty, he acted his part very well, and with a very low bow and respectful behaviour, told her, Madam, we are three merchants of Mossoul, who arrived about ten days ago with rich merchandize, which we have in a warehouse at a khan, or inn, where we have also our lodging. We happened this day to be with a merchant of this city, who invited us to a treat at his house, where we had a splendid entertainment; and the wine having put us in humour, he sent for a company of dancers. Night being come on, and the music and dancers making a great noise, the watch came by in the mean time, caused the gate to be opened, and some of the company to be taken up; but we had the good fortune to escape by getting over a wall. Now, said the vizier, being strangers, and somewhat overcome with wine, we are afraid of meeting another, and perhaps the same watch, before we get home to our khan, which lies a good way from hence. Besides, when we come there, the gates will be shut, and not opened till morning: wherefore, madam, hearing, as we passed by this way, the sound of music, we supposed you were not yet going to rest, and made bold to knock at your gate, to beg the favour of lodging ourselves in the house till morning; and if you think us worthy of your good company, we will endeavour to contribute to your diversion to the best of our power, to make some amends for the interruption we have given you; if not, we only beg the favour of staying this night under your porch.
Whilst Giafar held this discourse, fair Safie had time to observe the vizier and his two companions, who were said to be merchants like himself, and told them that she was not mistress of the house; but if they would have a minute’s patience, she would return with an answer.
Safie acquainted her sisters with the matter, who considered for some time what to conclude upon: but being naturally of a good disposition, and having granted the same favour to the three calenders, they at last consented to let them in. Scheherazade intending to continue her story, saw daylight appear, which made her break off: but the quality of these new actors which the sultaness had brought upon the stage excited the curiosity of Schahriar, who looking for some singular event, expected the next night with impatience.
THIRTY-FOURTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade, being as curious as the sultan to know what the arrival of the caliph at the house of those three ladies might produce, did not forget to awaken the sultaness very early next morning, and prayed her earnestly to resume the story of the calenders, whilst Scheherazade, with leave of the sultan, pursued in the following manner:
The caliph, his grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being introduced by the fair Safie, very courteously saluted the ladies and the calenders. The ladies returned them the like civilities, supposing them to be merchants. Zobeide, as the chief, said to them with a grave and serious countenance, which was natural to her, You are welcome. But before I proceed farther, I hope you will not take it ill if we desire one favour of you. —Alas! said the vizier, what favour? We can refuse nothing to such fair ladies. —Zobeide replied, It is, that you would only have eyes, but no tongues; that you put no question to us about the reason of any thing you may happen to see, and speak not of any thing that does not concern you, lest you come to hear of things that will by no means please you.
Madam, replied the vizier, you shall be obeyed. We are not censorious, nor impertinently curious; it is enough for us to take notice of that which concerns us, without meddling with that which does not belong to us. Upon this they all sat down, and the company being united, they drank to the health of the new comers.
While the vizier Giafar entertained the ladies in discourse, the caliph could not forbear admiring their extraordinary beauty, graceful behaviour, pleasant humour, and ready wit; on the other hand, nothing was more surprising to him than the calenders being all three blind of the right eye. He would gladly have been informed of this singularity; but the conditions so lately imposed upon himself and his companions would not allow him to speak. This, with the richness of the furniture, the exact order of every thing, and the neatness of the house, made him think it was some enchanted place.
Their conversation happening to turn upon diversions and different ways of making merry, the calenders arose, and danced after their fashion, which augmented the good opinion the ladies had conceived of them, and procured them the esteem of the caliph and his companions.
When the three calenders had made an end of their dance, Zobeide arose, and taking Amine by the hand, said, Pray, sister, rise up, for the company will not take it ill if we use our freedom, and their presence need not hinder our performance of what we are wont to do. Amine, understanding her sister’s meaning, rose from her seat, carried away the dishes, the table, the flasks and cups, together with the instruments which the calenders had played upon.
Safie was not idle, but swept the room, put every thing again in its place, snuffed the candles, and put fresh aloes and ambergris to them, and then prayed the three calenders to sit down upon the sofa on one side, and the caliph with his companions on the other. As to the porter, she said to him, Get up and prepare yourself to serve in what we are going about; a man like you, who is one of the family, ought not to be idle. The porter, being somewhat recovered from his wine, got up immediately, and having tied the sleeve of his gown to his belt, answered, Here am I, ready to obey your commands in any thing. Very well, replied Safie, stay till you are spoken to; you shall not be idle very long. A little time after, Amine came in with a chair, which she placed in the middle of the room; and then went to a closet, which having opened, she beckoned to the porter, and said to him, Come hither and help me; which he obeying, entered the closet, and returned immediately, leading two black bitches, with each of them a collar and chain; they looked as if they had been severely whipped with rods, and he brought them into the middle of the room.
Then Zobeide rising from her seat between the calenders and the caliph, marched very gravely towards the porter:— Come on, said she, with a great sigh; let us perform our duty; then tucking up her sleeves above her elbows, and receiving a rod from Safie, Porter, said she, deliver one of the bitches to my sister Amine, and come to me with the other.
The porter did as he was commanded; the bitch that he held in his hand began to cry, and turning towards Zobeide, held her head up in a begging posture; but Zobeide, having no regard to the sad countenance of the bitch, which would have moved pity, nor her cries, that resounded through the house, whipped her with the rod till she was out of breath; and having spent her strength, that she could strike no more, she threw down the rod, and taking the chain from the porter, lifted up the bitch by her paws, and looking upon her with a sad and pitiful countenance, they both wept; after which, Zobeide, with her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the bitch’s eye, kissed her, returned the chain to the porter, bade him carry her to the place whence he took her, and bring her the other. The porter led back the whipped bitch to the closet, and receiving the other from Amine, presented her to Zobeide, who bade the porter hold her as he did the first, took up the rod, and treated her after the same manner; and when she had wept over her, dried her eyes, and kissed her, and returned her to the porter: but lovely Amine spared him the trouble of leading her back into the closet, and did it herself. The three calenders and the caliph, with his companions, were extremely surprised at this execution, and could not comprehend why Zobeide, after having so furiously whipped those two bitches, that by the mussulman religion are reckoned unclean animals, should cry with them, wipe off their tears, and kiss them: they muttered among themselves, and the caliph, who being more impatient than the rest, longed exceedingly to be informed of the cause of so strange an action, and could not forbear making signs to the vizier to ask the question; the vizier turned his head another way; but being pressed by repeated signs, he answered by others, that it was not yet time for the caliph to satisfy his curiosity.
Zobeide sat still some time in the middle of the room, where she had whipped the two bitches, to recover herself of the fatigue; and fair Safie called to her, Dear sister, will you not be pleased to return to your place, that I may also act my part? Yes, sister, replied Zobeide; and then went, and sat down upon the sofa, having the caliph, Giafar, and Mesrour on her right hand, and the three calenders, with the porter, on her left.
Here, said Scheherazade to the sultan, Sir, what has been hitherto told your majesty must, without doubt, appear very strange; but what yet remains is more wonderful; and I am persuaded your majesty will think so, if you will be pleased to give me leave to finish the story next night: the sultan agreed to it, and got up because it was day.
THIRTY-FIFTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade was no sooner awake next morning, but she called, Sister, if you are not asleep, pray continue the fine story of the three sisters. The sultaness remembering where she left off, addressed herself to the sultan, and went on as follows: Sir, after Zobeide sat down, the whole company was silent for a while; at last Safie, sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, spoke to her sister Amine —Dear sister, I conjure you to rise up; you know well enough what I would say. Amine rose, and went into another closet, near to that where the bitches were, and brought out a case covered with yellow satin, richly embroidered with gold, and green silk: she came near Safie, and opened the case, from whence she took a lute, and presented it to her; and after some time spent in tuning it, Safie began to play, and accompanying it with her voice, she sung a song about the torments that absence creates to lovers, with so much sweetness, that it charmed the caliph and all the company. Having sung with a great deal of passion and action, she said to lovely Amine, Pray take it sister, for I can do no more; my voice fails me: oblige the company with a tune, and a song, in my room. Very willingly, replied Amine, who, taking the lute from her sister Safie, sat down in her place.
Amine, after some small trial, to see whether the instrument was in tune, played and sung almost as long upon the same subject, but with so much vehemency, and she was so much affected, or rather transported, by the words of the song, that her strength failed her as she made an end of it.
Zobeide, willing to testify her satisfaction, said, Sister, you have done wonders, and we may easily see that you feel the grief you have expressed in so lively a manner. Amine was prevented from answering this civility, her heart being so sensibly touched at the same moment, that she was obliged, for air, to uncover her neck and breast, which did not appear so fair as might have been expected from such a lady as she, but on the contrary, black and full of scars, which frighted all the spectators. However, this gave her no ease, but she fell into a fit. —Here Scheherazade stopped, saying, Sir, I had almost forgot that it is day. With this she ended her discourse, and the sultan arose from bed. And though this prince had not resolved to defer the death of the sultaness, he could not, at this time, have determined to take away her life; his curiosity was so great to hear out the story, which had so many unheard-of events.
THIRTY-SIXTH NIGHT.
Dinarzade awaked her sister as formerly, saying, Dear sister, I pray you to continue the story of the ladies and the calenders. Upon which she resumed her discourse in the manner following:—
When Zobeide and Safie ran to help their sister, one of the calenders could not forbear to say, We had better have slept in the streets than have come hither, had we thought to have seen such spectacles. The caliph, who heard this, came to him and the other calenders, and asked them what might be the meaning of all this. They answered, Sir, we know no more than you do. What! says the caliph, are you not of the family? nor can you resolve us concerning the two black bitches, and the lady that fainted away, and has been so basely abused? Sir, said the calenders, this is the first time that ever we were in the house, and we came in but a few minutes before you.
This increased the caliph’s astonishment. It may be, says, he, this other man that is with you may know something of it. One of the calenders made a sign for the porter to come near, and asked him whether he knew why those two black bitches had been whipped, and why Amine’s bosom was so scarred? Sir, said the porter, I can swear by heaven, that if you know nothing of all this, I know as little as you do. It is true, I live in this city, but I never was in the house until now; and if you are surprised to see me here, I am as much to find myself in your company; —and that which increases my wonder is, that I have not seen one man with these ladies.
The caliph and his company, as well as the calenders, supposed the porter had been one of the family, and hoped he could inform them of what they desired to know; but finding he could not, and resolving to satisfy his curiosity, cost what it would, he said to the rest, Look ye, we are here seven men, and have but three women to deal with; let us try if we can oblige them to satisfy us, and if they refuse it by fair means, we are in a condition to force them to it.
The grand vizier Giafar was against this method, and shewed the caliph what might be the consequence of it; but, without discovering the prince to the calenders, addressed him as if he had been a merchant, thus: Sir, consider, I pray you, that our reputation lies at stake. You know very well upon what conditions these ladies were ready to receive us, and we also agreed to them; what will they say of us if we break them? We shall be still more to blame, if any mischief befall us, for it is not likely that they would demand such a promise of us, if they did not know themselves to be in a condition to make us repent the breaking of it.