Читать книгу The Arabian Nights Entertainments. Volume 01 - Unknown - Страница 5

There was a king, says the vizier, who had a son that loved hunting mightily. He allowed him to divert himself that way very often, but gave orders to his grand vizier to attend him constantly, and never to lose sight of him.

One hunting day, the huntsman having roused a deer, the prince who thought the vizier followed him, pursued the game so far, and with so much earnestness, that he was left quite alone. He stopped, and finding that he had lost his way, endeavoured to return the same way he came, to find out the vizier, who had not been careful enough to find him, and so wandered further.

Whilst he rode up and down without keeping any road, he met, by the way-side, a handsome lady, who wept bitterly. He stopped his horse, asked who she was, how she came to be alone in that place, and what she wanted? I am, says she, daughter of an Indian king; as I was taking the air on horseback in the country, I grew sleepy, fell from my horse, who is got away, and I know not what is become of him. The young prince, taking compassion on her, asked her to get up behind him, which she willingly accepted.

As they passed by the ruins of a house, the lady signified a desire to alight on some occasion. The prince stopped his horse, and suffered her to alight; then he alighted himself, and went near the ruins with his horse in his hand: But you may judge how much he was surprised, when he heard the lady within it say these words, "Be glad, my children, I bring you a handsome young man, and very fat;" and other voices which answered immediately, "Mamma, where is he, that we may eat him presently, for we are very hungry."

The prince heard enough to convince him of his danger, and then he perceived that the lady, who called herself daughter to an Indian king, was a hogress, wife to one of those savage demons called hogress, who live in remote places, and make use of a thousand wiles to surprise and devour passengers; so that the prince, being thus frightened, mounted his horse as soon as he could.

The pretended princess appeared that very moment, and perceiving that she had missed her prey, she cries, Fear nothing, prince! Who are you? Whom do you seek? I have lost my way, replies he, and am seeking it. If you have lost your way, says she, recommend yourself to God, he will deliver you out of your perplexity. Then the prince lift up his eyes towards Heaven. But, sir, says Scheherazade, I am obliged to break off, for day appears.

I long mightily, says Dinarzade, to know what became of that young prince, I tremble for him. I will deliver you from your uneasiness to-morrow, answers the sultaness, if the sultan will allow me to live till then. Schahriar, willing to hear an end of this adventure, prolonged Scheherazade's life for another day.

The Sixteenth Night.

Dinarzade had such a mighty desire to hear out the story of the young prince, that she awaked that night sooner than ordinary, and said, Sister, pray go on with the story you began yesterday: I am much concerned for the young prince, and ready to die for fear that he was eaten up by the hogress and her children. Schahriar having signified that he had the same fear, the sultaness replies, Well, Sir, I will satisfy you immediately.

After the counterfeit Indian princess had bid the young prince recommend himself to God, he could not believe she spoke sincerely, but thought she was sure of him, and therefore lifting up his hands to Heaven, said, Almighty Lord, cast thine eyes upon me, and deliver me from this enemy. After this prayer, the hogress entered the ruins again, and the prince rode off with all possible haste. He happily found his way again, and arrived safe and sound at his father's court, to whom he gave a particular account of the danger he had been in through the vizier's neglect; upon which the king, being incensed against that minister, ordered him to be strangled that very moment.

Sir, continues the Grecian king's vizier, to return to the physician Douban, if you do not take care, the confidence you put in him will be fatal to you: I am very well assured that he is a spy sent by your enemies to attempt your majesty's life. He has cured you, you will say: But, alas! who can assure you of that? He has perhaps cured you only in appearance, and not radically; who knows but the medicines he has given you may in time have pernicious effects?

The Grecian king, who had naturally very little sense, was not able to discover the wicked design of his vizier, nor had he firmness enough to persist in his first opinion. This discourse staggered him: Vizier, says he, thou art in the right; he may be come on purpose to take away my life, which he may easily do by the very smell of some of his drugs. We must consider what is fit for us to do in this case.

When the vizier found the king in such a temper as he would have him, Sir, says he, the surest and speediest method you can take to secure your life, is to send immediately for the physician Douban, and order his head to be cut off as soon as he comes. In truth, says the king, I believe that is the way we must take to prevent his design. When he had spoken thus, he called for one of his officers, and ordered him to go for the physician; who, knowing nothing of the king's design, came to the palace in haste.

Know ye, says the king, when he saw him, why I sent for you? No, Sir, answered he; I wait till your majesty be pleased to inform me. I sent for you, replied the king, to rid myself of you by taking your life.

No man can express the surprise of the physician, when he heard the sentence of death pronounced against him. Sir, says he, why would your majesty take away my life? What crime have I committed? I am informed by good hands, replies the king, that you come to my court only to attempt my life; but, to prevent you, I will be sure of yours. Give the blow, says he to the executioner, who was present, and deliver me from a perfidious wretch, who came hither on purpose to assassinate me.

When the physician heard this cruel order, he readily judged that the honours and presents he had received from the king had procured him enemies, and that the weak prince was imposed upon. He repented that he had cured him of his leprosy, but it was now too late. Is it thus, replies the physician, that you reward me for curing you? The king would not hearken to him, but ordered the executioner a second time to strike the fatal blow. The physician then had recourse to his prayers: Alas! sir, cries he, prolong my days, and God will prolong yours; do not put me to death, lest God treat you in the same manner. The fisherman broke off his discourse here, to apply it to the genie. Well, genie, says he, you see that what passed then betwixt the Grecian king and his physician Douban is acted just now betwixt us.

The Grecian king, continues he, instead of having regard to the prayers of the physician, who begged him for God's sake to spare him, cruelly replied to him, No, no; I must of necessity cut you off, otherwise you may take away my life with as much subtleness as you cured me. The physician, melting into tears, and bewailing himself sadly for being so ill rewarded by the king, prepared for death. The executioner bound up his eyes, tied his hands, and went to draw his scimitar.

Then the courtiers, who were present, being moved with compassion, begged the king to pardon him, assuring his majesty that he was not guilty of the crime laid to his charge, and that they would answer for his innocence; but the king was inflexible, and answered them so, as they dared not to say any more of the matter.

The physician being on his knees, his eyes tied up, and ready to receive the fatal blow, addressed himself once more to the king: Sir, says he, since your majesty will not revoke the sentence of death, I beg, at least, that you will give me leave to return to my house, to give orders about my burial, to bid farewell to my family, to give alms, and to bequeath my books to those who are capable of making good use of them. I have one in particular I would present to your majesty; it is a very precious book, and worthy to be laid up very carefully in your treasury. Well, replies the king, why is that book so precious as you talk of? Sir, says the physician, because it contains an infinite number of curious things, of which the chief is, that when you have cut off my head, if your majesty will give yourself the trouble to open the book at the sixth leaf, and read the third line of the left page, my head will answer all the questions you ask it. The king, being curious to see such a wonderful thing, deferred his death till next day, and sent him home under a strong guard.

The physician, during that time, put his affairs in order; and the report being spread, that an unheard-of prodigy was to happen after his death, the viziers, emirs, officers of the guard, and, in a word, the whole court, repaired next day to the hall of audience, that they might be witnesses of it.

The physician Douban was soon brought in, and advanced to the foot of the throne, with a great book in his hand; there he called for a bason, upon which he laid the cover that the book was wrapped in, and presenting the book to the king, Sir, says he, take that book, if you please, and as soon as my head is cut off, order that it may be put into the bason upon the cover of the book; as soon as it is put there, the blood will stop; then open the book, and my head will answer your questions. But, Sir, says he, permit me once more to implore your majesty's clemency; for God's sake grant my request, I protest to you that I am innocent. Your prayers, answers the king, are vain; and if it were for nothing but to hear your head speak after your death, it is my will you should die. As he said this, he took the book out of the physician's hand, and ordered the executioner to do his duty.

The head was so dexterously cut off, that it fell into the bason, and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book than the blood stopped; then, to the great surprise of the king, and all the spectators, it opened its eyes, and said, Sir, will your majesty be pleased to open the book? The king opened it, and finding that one leaf was, as it were, glued to another, that he might turn it with more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wet it with spittle. He did so till he came to the sixth leaf, and finding no writing on the place where he was bid to look for it, Physician, says he to the head, here is nothing written. Turn over some more leaves, replies the head. The king continued to turn over, putting always his finger to his mouth, until the poison, with which each leaf was imbued, came to have its effect; the prince finding himself, all of a sudden, taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight failed, and he, fell down at the foot of his throne in great convulsions. At these words Scheherazade, perceiving day, gave the sultan notice of it, and forbore speaking. Ah! dear sister, says Dinarzade, how grieved am I that you have not time to finish this story! I should be inconsolable if you lose your life to-day. Sister, replies the sultaness, that must be as the sultan pleases; but I hope he will be so good as to suspend my death till to-morrow. And accordingly Schahriar, far from ordering her death that day, expected next night with much impatience; so earnest was he to hear out the story of the Grecian king, and the sequel of that of the fisherman and the genie.

The Seventeenth Night.

Though Dinarzade was very curious to hear the rest of the story of the Grecian king, she did not awake that night so soon as usual, so that it was almost day before she called upon the sultaness; and then said, I pray you, sister, to continue the wonderful story of the Greek king; but make haste, I beseech you, for it will speedily be day.

Scheherazade resumed the story where she left off the day before. Sir, says she to the sultan, when the physician Douban, or rather his head, saw that the poison had taken effect, and that the king had but a few moments to live: Tyrant, it cried, now you see how princes are treated, who, abusing, their authority, cut off innocent men: God punishes, soon or late, their injustice and cruelty. Scarcely had the head spoken these words, when the king fell down dead, and the head itself lost what life it had.

Sir, continues Scheherazade, such was the end of the Grecian king, and the physician Douban; I must return now to the story of the fisherman and the genie; but it is not worth while to begin it now, for it is day. The sultan, who always observed his hours regularly, could stay no longer, but got up; and having a mind to hear the sequel of the story of the genie and, the fisherman, he bid the sultaness prepare to tell it him next night.

The Eighteenth Night.

Dinarzade made amends this night for last night's neglect; she awaked long before day, and calling upon Scheherazade, Sister, says she, if you be not asleep, pray give us the rest of the story of the fisherman and the genie; you know the sultan desires to hear it as well as I.

I shall soon satisfy his curiosity and yours, answers the sultaness; and then, addressing herself to Schahriar, Sir, continued she, as soon as the fisherman had concluded the history of the Greek king and his physician Douban, he made the application to the genie, whom he still kept shut up in the vessel. If the Grecian king, says he, would have suffered him to live; but he rejected his most humble prayers; and it is the same with thee, O genie. Could I have prevailed with thee to grant me the favour I demanded, I should now have had pity upon thee; but since, notwithstanding the extreme obligation thou wast under to me for having set thee at liberty, thou didst persist in thy design to kill me, I am obliged in my turn to be as hard-hearted to thee.

My good friend fisherman, replies the genie, I conjure thee once more not to be guilty of so cruel a thing; consider that it is not good to avenge one's self, and that, on the other hand, it is commendable to do good for evil; do not treat me as Imama treated Ateca formerly. And what did Imama to Ateca, replies the fisherman? Ho! says the genie, if you have a mind to know it, open the vessel; do you think that I can be in a humour to tell stories in so strait a prison? I will tell you as many as you please when you let me out. No, says the fisherman, I will not let thee out, it is in vain to talk of it; I am just going to throw you into the bottom of the sea. Hear me one word more, cries the genie, I promise to do thee no hurt; nay, so far from that, I will show thee a way how thou mayst become exceeding rich.

The hope of delivering himself from poverty prevailed with the fisherman. I could listen to thee says he, were there any credit to be given to thy word; swear to me by the great name of God, that you will faithfully perform what you promise, and I will open the vessel; I do not believe you will dare to break such an oath.

The genie swore to him, and the fisherman immediately took off the covering of the vessel. At that very instant the smoke came out, and the genie having resumed his form as before, the first thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action frightened the fisherman: Genie, says he, what is the meaning of that; will not you keep the oath you made, just now? And must I say to you as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king, Suffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.

The genie laughed at the fisherman's fear, and answered, No, fisherman, be not afraid, I only did it to divert myself, and to see if thou wouldst be alarmed at it: But, to persuade thee that I am in earnest, take thy net and follow me. As he spoke these words, he walked before the fisherman, who, having taken up his nets, followed him, but with some distrust: They passed by the town, and came to the top of a mountain, from whence they descended into a vast plain, which brought them to a great pond that lay betwixt four hills.

When they came to the side of the pond, the genie says to the fisherman, Cast in thy nets, and take fish; the fisherman did not doubt to catch some, because he saw a great number in the pond; but he was extremely surprised when he found they were of four colours; that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw in his nets, and brought out one of each colour; having never seen the like, he could not but admire them, and, judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. Carry these fish, says the genie to him, and present them to the sultan; he will give you more money for them than ever you had in your life. You may come every day to fish in this pond, and I give thee warming not to throw in thy nets above once a day; otherwise you will repent it. Take heed, and remember my advice; if you follow it exactly, you will find your account in it. Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and shut again after it had swallowed up the genie.

The fisherman, being resolved to follow the genie's advice exactly, forebore casting in his nets a second time; but returned to the town very well satisfied with his fish, and making a thousand reflections upon his adventure. He went straight to the sultan's palace to present him his fish. But, sir, says Scheherazade, I perceive day, and must stop here.

Dear sister, says Dinarzade, how surprising are the last events you have told us? I have much ado to believe that any thing you have to say can be more surprising. Sister, replies the sultaness, if the sultan, my master, will let me live till to-morrow, I am persuaded you will find the sequel of the history of the fisherman more wonderful than the beginning of it, and incomparably more diverting. Schahriar, being curious to know if the remainder of the story of the fisherman would be such as the sultaness said, put off the execution of the cruel law one day more.

The Nineteenth Night.

Towards morning, Dinarzade called the sultaness, and said, Dear sister, my pendulum tells me it will be day speedily, therefore pray continue the history of the fisherman; I am extremely impatient to know what the issue of it was. Scheherazade, having demanded leave of Schahriar, resumed her discourse as follows: Sir, I leave it to your majesty to think how much the sultan was surprised when he saw the four fishes which the fisherman presented him. He took them up one after another, and beheld them with attention; and after having admired them a long time, take these fishes, says he to his prime vizier, and carry them to the fine cook-maid that the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot imagine but they must be as good as they are fine.

The vizier carried them himself to the cook, and, delivering them into her hands, Look ye, says he, there are four fishes newly brought to the sultan, he orders you to dress them; and, having said so, he returned to the sultan his master, who ordered him to give the fisherman four hundred pieces of gold of the coin of that country, which he did accordingly.

The fisherman, who had never seen so much cash in his lifetime, could scarcely believe his own good fortune, but thought it must needs be a dream, until he found it to be real, when he provided necessaries for his family with it.

But, sir, says Scheherazade, having told you what happened to the fisherman, I must acquaint you next with what befel the sultan's cook-maid, whom we shall find in a mighty perplexity. As soon as she had gutted the fishes, she put them upon the fire in a frying-pan with oil, and when she thought them fried enough on one side, she turned them upon the other; but, O monstrous prodigy! scarcely were they turned, when the wall of the kitchen opened, and in comes a young lady of wonderful beauty and comely size. She was clad in flowered satin, after the Egyptian manner, with pendants in her ears, necklace of large pearl, and bracelets of gold, garnished with rubies, with a rod of myrtle in her hand. She came towards the frying-pan, to the great amazement of the cook-maid, who continued immovable at this sight, and, striking one of the fishes with the end of the rod, says, "Fish, fish, art thou in thy duty?" The fish having answered nothing, she repeated these words, and then the four fishes lift up their heads altogether, and said to her, "Yes, yes, if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content." As soon as they had finished these words, the lady overturned the frying-pan, and entered again into the open part of the wall, which shut immediately, and became as it was before.

The cook-maid was mightily frightened at this, and, coming a little to herself, went to take up the fishes that fell upon the earth, but found them blacker than coal, and not fit to be carried to the sultan. She was grievously troubled at it, and fell a-weeping most bitterly: Alas! says she, what will become of me? If I tell the sultan what I have seen, I am sure he will not believe me, but will be mightily enraged against me.

Whilst she was thus bewailing herself, in comes the grand vizier, and asked her if the fishes were ready? She told him all that had happened, which, we may easily imagine, astonished him mightily; but, without speaking a word to the sultan, he invented an excuse that satisfied him, and sending immediately for the fisherman, bid him bring four more such fish; for a misfortune had befallen the other, that they were not fit to be carried to the sultan. The fisherman, without saying any thing of what the genie had told him, in order to excuse himself from bringing them that very day, told the vizier he had a great way to go for them, but would certainly bring them to-morrow.

Accordingly the fisherman went away by night, and, coming to the pond, threw in his nets betimes next morning, took four such fishes as the former, and brought them to the vizier at the hour appointed. The minister took them himself, carried them to the kitchen, and shutting himself up all alone with the cook-maid, she gutted them, and put them on the fire, as she had done the four others the day before; when they were fried on the one side, and she had turned them upon the other, the kitchen-wall opened, and the same lady came in with the rod in her hand, struck one of the fishes, spoke to it as before, and all four gave her the same answer. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day appears, which obliges me to break off. What I have told you is indeed singular, but if I be alive to-morrow, I will tell you other things which are yet better worth your hearing. Schahriar, conceiving that the sequel must be very curious, resolved to hear her next night.

The Twentieth Night.

Next morning the sultan prevented Dinarzade, and says to Scheherazade, Madam, I pray you make an end of the story of the fisherman; I am impatient to hear it. Upon which the sultaness continued it thus:

Sir, after the four fishes had answered the young lady, she overturned the frying-pan with her rod, and retired into the same place of the wall from whence she came out. The grand vizier being witness to what passed, This is too surprising and extraordinary, says he, to be concealed from the sultan; I will inform him of this prodigy; which he did accordingly, and gave him a faithful account of all that had happened.

The sultan, being much surprised, was mighty impatient to see this himself. To this end, he sent immediately for the fisherman, and says to him, Friend, cannot you bring me four more such fishes? The fisherman replied, If your majesty will be pleased to allow me three days time, I will do it. Having obtained this time, he went to the pond immediately, and, at the first throwing in of his net, he took four such fishes, and brought them presently to the sultan, who was the more rejoiced at it, as he did not expect them so soon, and ordered him other four hundred pieces of gold. As soon as the sultan had the fish, he ordered them to be carried into the closet, with all that was necessary for frying them; and having shut himself up there with his vizier, that minister gutted them, put them in the pan upon the fire, and when they were fried on one side, turned them upon the other; then the wall of the closet opened; but, instead of the young lady, there came out a black, in the habit of a slave, and of a gigantic stature, with a great green baton in his hand. He advanced towards the pan, and touching one of the fishes with his baton, says to it with a terrible voice, "Fish, art thou in thy duty?" At these words, the fishes raised up their heads, and answered, "Yes, yes, we are: if you reckon, we reckon; if you pay your debts, we pay ours; if you fly, we overcome, and are content."

The fish had no sooner finished these words, than the black threw the pan into the middle of the closet, and reduced these fishes to a coal. Having done this, he retired fiercely, and entering again into the hole of the wall, it shut, and appeared just as it was before.

After what I have seen, says the sultan to the vizier, it will not be possible for me to be easy in my mind. These fish, without doubt, signify something extraordinary, in which I have a mind to be satisfied. He sent for the fisherman; and when he came, says to him, Fisherman, the fishes you have brought us make me very uneasy; where did you catch them? Sir, answers he, I fished for them in a pond situate betwixt four hills, beyond the mountain that we see from hence. Know you that pond, says the sultan to the vizier? No, sir, replies the vizier, I never so much as heard of it; and yet it is not sixty years since I hunted beyond that mountain and thereabouts. The sultan asked the fisherman, how far the pond might be from the palace? The fisherman answered, it was not above three hours journey. Upon this assurance, and there being day enough beforehand, the sultan commanded all his court to take horse, and the fisherman served them for a guide. They all ascended the mountain, and at the foot of it they saw, to their great surprise, a vast plain, that nobody had observed till then; and at last they came to the pond, which they found actually to be situate betwixt four hills, as the fisherman had said. The water of it was so transparent, that they observed all the fishes to be like those which the fisherman had brought to the palace.

The sultan staid upon the bank of the pond, and, after beholding the fishes with admiration, he demanded of his emirs and all his courtiers, if it was possible they had never seen this pond, which was within so little a way of the town. They all answered, that they had never so much as heard of it.

Since you all agree, says he, that you never heard of it, and as I am no less astonished than you are, at this novelty I am resolved not to return to my palace till I know how this pond came hither, and why all the fish in it are of four colours. Having spoken thus, he ordered his court to encamp, and immediately his pavilion, and the tents of his household, were planted upon the banks of the pond.

When night came, the sultan retired under his pavilion, and spoke to the vizier by himself thus: Vizier, my mind is very uneasy: this pond transported hither, the black that appeared to us in my closet, and the fishes that we heard speak; all this does so much whet my curiosity, that I cannot resist the impatient desire that I have to be satisfied in it. To this end, I am resolved to withdraw alone from the camp, and I order you to keep my absence secret; stay in my pavilion, and to-morrow morning, when the emirs and courtiers come to attend my levee, send them away, and tell them, that I am somewhat indisposed, and have a mind to be alone: and the following day tell them the same thing, till I return.

The grand vizier said several things to divert the sultan from his design: He represented to him the danger to which he might be exposed, and that all his labour might perhaps be in vain. But it was to no purpose; the sultan was resolved on it, and would go. He put on a suit fit for walking, and took his scimitar; and as soon as he saw that all was quiet in the camp, he goes out alone, and went over one of the hills without much difficulty; he found the descent still more easy, and, when he came to the plain, walked on till the sun rose, and then he saw before him, at a considerable distance, a great building. He rejoiced at the sight, in hopes to be informed there of what he had a mind to know. When he came near, he found it was a magnificent palace, or rather a very strong castle, of fine black polished marble, and covered with fine steel, as smooth as a looking-glass. Being mightily pleased that he had so speedily met with something worthy his curiosity, he stopped before the front of the castle, and considered it with abundance of attention.

He afterwards came up to the gate, which had two leaves, one of them open: though he might have entered when he would, yet he thought it best to knock. He knocked at first softly, "and waited for some time; but seeing nobody, and supposing they had not heard him, he knocked harder the second time; but neither seeing nor hearing anybody, he knocked again and again; but nobody appearing, it surprised him extremely; for he could not think that a castle so well in repair was without inhabitants. If there be nobody in it, says he to himself, I have nothing to fear, and if there be, I have wherewith to defend me.

At last he entered, and when he came within the porch, he cries, Is there nobody here to receive a stranger, who comes in for some refreshment as he passes by? He repeated the same two or three times; but, though he spoke very high, nobody answered.

This silence increased his astonishment; he came into a very spacious court, and looking on every side to see if he could perceive any body, he saw no living thing. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day appears, and I must stop.

Ah! sister, says Dinarzade, you break off at the very best of the story. It is true, answers the sultaness; but, sister, you see I am forced to do so. If my lord the sultan pleases, you may hear the rest to-morrow, Schahriar agreed to this, not so much to please Dinarzade as to satisfy his own curiosity, being mightily impatient to hear what adventure the prince met with in the castle.

The Twenty-first Night.

Dinarzade, to make amends for her neglect the night before, never laid eye together, and, when she thought it was time, awaked the sultaness, saying to her, My dear sister, pray give us an account of what happened in the fine castle where you left us yesterday.

Scheherazade forthwith resumed her story, and, addressing herself to Schahriar, says, Sir, the sultan, perceiving nobody in the court, entered the great halls, which were hung with silk tapestry; the alcoves and sofas were covered with stuffs of Mecca, and the porches with the richest stuffs of the Indies, mixed with gold and silver. He came afterwards into an admirable saloon, in the middle of which there was a great fountain, with a lion of massy gold at each corner: Water issued at the mouths of the four lions, and this water, as it fell, formed diamonds and pearls, that very well answered a jet of water, which, springing from the middle of the fountain, rose as high almost as the bottom of a cupola painted after the Arabian manner.

The castle on three sides was encompassed by a garden, with flower-pots, water-works, groves, and a thousand other fine things concurring to embellish it; and what completed the beauty of the place, was an infinite number of birds, which filled the air with their harmonious notes, and always staid there; nets being spread over the trees, and fastened to the palace, to keep them in. The sultan walked a long time from apartment to apartment, where he found every thing very grand and magnificent. Being tired with walking, he sat down in an open closet, which had a view over the garden, and there reflecting upon what he had already seen, and did then see, all of a sudden he heard the voice of one complaining, accompanied with lamentable cries. He listened with attention, and heard distinctly these sad words: "O fortune! thou who wouldst not suffer me longer to enjoy a happy lot, and hast made me the most unfortunate man in the world, forbear to persecute me, and by a speedy death, put an end to my sorrows! Alas! is it possible that I am still alive after so many torments as I have suffered?

The sultan, being affected with those pitiful complaints, rose up, and made towards the place where he heard the voice; and when he came to the gate of a great hall, he opened it, and saw a handsome young man, richly habited, set upon a throne raised a little above the ground. Melancholy was painted in his looks, The sultan drew near, and saluted him: The young man returned him his salute by a low bow with his head; but not being able to rise up, he says to the sultan, My lord, I am very well satisfied that you deserve I should rise to receive you, and do you all possible honour; but I am hindered from doing so by a very sad reason, and therefore hope you will not take it ill. My lord, replies the sultan, I am very much obliged to you for having so good an opinion of me: As to the reason of your not rising, whatever your apology be, I heartily accept of it. Being drawn hither by your complaints, and affected by your grief, I came to offer you my help; would to God that it lay in my power to ease you of your trouble; I would do my utmost to effect it. I flatter myself that you would willingly tell me the history of your misfortunes; but pray tell me first the meaning of the pond near the palace, where the fishes are of four colours? what this castle is? how you came to be here? and why you are alone?

Instead of answering these questions, the young man began to weep bitterly. "Oh, how inconstant is fortune!" cried he: "She takes pleasure to pull down those men she hath raised up. Where are they who enjoy quietly the happiness which they hold of her, and whose day is always clear and serene?"

The sultan, moved with compassion to see him in that condition, prayed him forthwith to tell him the cause of his excessive grief. Alas! my lord, replies the young man, how is it possible but I should grieve? And why should not my eyes be inexhaustible fountains of tears? At these words, lifting up his gown, he showed the sultan that he was a man only from his head to the girdle, and that the other half of his body was black marble. Here Scheherazade broke off, and told the sultan that day appeared.

Schahriar was so much charmed with the story, and became so much in love with Scheherazade, that he resolved to let her live a month. He got up, however, as usual, without acquainting her with his resolution.

The Twenty-second Night.

Dinarzade was so impatient to hear out the story, that she called her sister next morning sooner than usual, and says to her, Sister, pray continue the wonderful story you began, but could not make an end of yesterday morning. I agree to it, replied the sultaness; hearken then.

You may easily imagine, continues she, that the sultan was strangely surprised when he saw the deplorable condition of the young man. That which you show me, says he, as it fills me with horror, whets my curiosity so, that I am impatient to hear your history, which no doubt is very strange, and I am persuaded that the pond and the fishes make some part of it; therefore I conjure you to tell it me. You will find some comfort in it, since it is certain that unfortunate people find some sort of ease in telling their misfortunes. I will not refuse you that satisfaction, replies the young man, though I cannot do it without renewing my grief. But I give you notice beforehand, to prepare your ears, your mind, and even your eyes, for things that surpass all that the most extraordinary imagination can conceive.