"After I had watched some time for the signal, he threw some stones out of the window against the jars, but neither hearing nor perceiving any body stirring, after throwing three times, he came down, when I saw him go to every jar, after which, through the darkness of the night, I lost sight of him. I waited some time longer, and finding that he did not return, doubted not but that, seeing he had missed his aim, he had made his escape over the walls of the garden. Persuaded that the house was now safe, I went to bed.

"This," said Morgiana, "is the account you asked of me; and I am convinced it is the consequence of what I observed some days ago, but did not think fit to acquaint you with: for when I came in one morning early, I found our street door marked with white chalk, and the next morning with red; upon which, both times, without knowing what was the intention of those chalks, I marked two or three neighbours' doors on each side in the same manner. If you reflect on this, and what has since happened, you will find it to be a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whose gang there are two wanting, and now they are reduced to three: all this shews that they had sworn your destruction, and it is proper you should be upon your guard, while there is one of them alive: for my part I shall neglect nothing necessary to your preservation, as I am in duty bound."

When Morgiana had left off speaking, Ali Baba was so sensible of the great service she had done him, that he said to her, "I will not die without rewarding you as you deserve: I owe my life to you, and for the first token of my acknowledgment, give you your liberty from this moment, till I can complete your recompense as I intend. I am persuaded with you, that the forty robbers have laid snares for my destruction. God, by your means, has delivered me from them as yet, and I hope will continue to preserve me from their wicked designs, and by averting the danger which threatened me, will deliver the world from their persecution and their cursed race. All that we have to do is to bury the bodies of these pests of mankind immediately, and with all the secrecy imaginable, that nobody may suspect what is become of them. But that labour Abdoollah and I will undertake."

Ali Baba's garden was very long, and shaded at the farther end by a great number of large trees. Under these he and the slave dug a trench, long and wide enough to hold all the robbers, and as the earth was light, they were not long in doing it. Afterwards they lifted the bodies out of the jars, took away their weapons, carried them to the end of the garden, laid them in the trench, and levelled the ground again. When this was done, Ali Baba hid the jars and weapons; and as he had no occasion for the mules, he sent them at different times to be sold in the market by his slave.

While Ali Baba took these measures to prevent the public from knowing how he came by his riches in so short a time, the captain of the forty robbers returned to the forest with inconceivable mortification; and in his agitation, or rather confusion, at his ill success, so contrary to what he had promised himself, entered the cave, not being able, all the way from the town, to come to any resolution how to revenge himself of Ali Baba.

The loneliness of the gloomy cavern became frightful to him. "Where are you, my brave lads," cried he, "old companions of my watchings, inroads, and labour? What can I do without you? Did I collect you only to lose you by so base a fate, and so unworthy of your courage! Had you died with your sabres in your hands, like brave men, my regret had been less! When shall I enlist so gallant a troop again? And if I could, can I undertake it without exposing so much gold and treasure to him who hath already enriched himself out of it? I cannot, I ought not to think of it, before I have taken away his life. I will undertake that alone which I could not accomplish with your powerful assistance; and when I have taken measures to secure this treasure from being pillaged, I will provide for it new masters and successors after me, who shall preserve and augment it to all posterity." This resolution being taken, he was not at a loss how to execute his purpose; but easy in his mind, and full of hopes, slept all that night very quietly.

When he awoke early next morning, he dressed himself, agreeably to the project he had formed, went to the town, and took a lodging in a khan. As he expected what had happened at Ali Baba's might make a great noise, he asked his host what news there was in the city? Upon which the inn-keeper told him a great many circumstances, which did not concern him in the least. He judged by this, that the reason why Ali Baba kept his affairs so secret, was for fear people should know where the treasure lay; and because he knew his life would be sought on account of it. This urged him the more to neglect nothing to rid himself of so cautious an enemy.

The captain now assumed the character of a merchant, and conveyed gradually a great many sorts of rich stuffs and fine linen to his lodging from the cavern, but with all the necessary precautions imaginable to conceal the place whence he brought them. In order to dispose of the merchandizes, when he had amassed them together, he took a warehouse, which happened to be opposite to Cassim's, which Ali Baba's son had occupied since the death of his uncle.

He took the name of Khaujeh Houssain, and as a new-comer, was, according to custom, extremely civil and complaisant to all the merchants his neighbours. Ali Baba's son was from his vicinity one of the first to converse with Khaujeh Houssain, who strove to cultivate his friendship more particularly, when, two or three days after he was settled, he recognized Ali Baba, who came to see his son, and stopped to talk with him as he was accustomed to do. When he was gone, the impostor learnt from his son who he was. He increased his assiduities, caressed him in the most engaging manner, made him some small presents, and often asked him to dine and sup with him; when he treated him very handsomely.

Ali Baba's son did not choose to lie under such obligation to Khaujeh Houssain, without making the like return; but was so much straitened for want of room in his house, that he could not entertain him so well as he wished; he therefore acquainted his father Ali Baba with his intention, and told him that it did not look well for him to receive such favours from Khaujeh Houssain, without inviting him in return.

Ali Baba, with great pleasure, took the treat upon himself. "Son," said he, "to-morrow being Friday, which is a day that the shops of such great merchants as Khaujeh Houssain and yourself are shut, get him to take a walk with you, and as you come back, pass by my door, and call in. It will look better to have it happen accidentally, than if you gave him a formal invitation. I will go and order Morgiana to provide a supper."

The next day Ali Baba's son and Khaujeh Houssain met by appointment, took their walk, and as they returned, Ali Baba's son led Khaujeh Houssain through the street where his father lived; and when they came to the house, stopped and knocked at the door. "This, sir," said he, "is my father's house; who, from the account I have given him of your friendship, charged me to procure him the honour of your acquaintance; and I desire you to add this pleasure to those for which I am already indebted to you."

Though it was the sole aim of Khaujeh Houssain to introduce himself into Ali Baba's house, that he might kill him without hazarding his own life or making any noise; yet he excused himself, and offered to take his leave. But a slave having opened the door, Ali Baba's son took him obligingly by the hand, and in a manner forced him in.

Ali Baba received Khaujeh Houssain with a smiling countenance, and in the most obliging manner he could wish. He thanked him for all the favours he had done his son; adding withal, the obligation was the greater, as he was a young man not much acquainted with the world, and that he might contribute to his information.

Khaujeh Houssain returned the compliment, by assuring Ali Baba, that though his son might not have acquired the experience of older men, he had good sense equal to the experience of many others. After a little more conversation on different subjects, he offered again to take his leave; when Ali Baba, stopping him, said, "Where are you going, sir, in so much haste? I beg you would do me the honour to sup with me, though what I have to give you is not worth your acceptance; but such as it is, I hope you will accept it as heartily as I give it." "Sir," replied Khaujeh Houssain, "I am thoroughly persuaded of your good-will; and if I ask the favour of you not to take it ill that I do not accept your obliging invitation, I beg of you to believe that it does not proceed from any slight or intention to affront, but from a reason which you would approve if you knew it."

"And what may that reason be, sir," replied Ali Baba, "if I may be so bold as to ask you?" "It is," answered Khaujeh Houssain, "that I can eat no victuals that have any salt in them; therefore judge how I should feel at your table." "If that is the only reason," said Ali Baba, "it ought not to deprive me of the honour of your company at supper; for, in the first place, there is no salt ever put into my bread, and as to the meat we shall have to-night, I promise you there shall be none in that. Therefore you must do me the favour to stay. I will return immediately."

Ali Baba went into the kitchen, and ordered Morgiana to put no salt to the meat that was to be dressed that night; and to make quickly two or three ragouts besides what he had ordered, but be sure to put no salt in them.

Morgiana, who was always ready to obey her master, could not help, this time, seeming somewhat dissatisfied at his strange order. "Who is this difficult man," said she, "who eats no salt with his meat? Your supper will be spoiled, if I keep it back so long." "Do not be angry, Morgiana," replied Ali Baba: "he is an honest man; therefore do as I bid you."

Morgiana obeyed, though with no little reluctance, and had a curiosity to see this man who ate no salt. To this end, when she had finished what she had to do in the kitchen, she helped Abdoollah to carry up the dishes; and looking at Khaujeh Houssain, knew him at first sight, notwithstanding his disguise, to be the captain of the robbers, and examining him very carefully, perceived that he had a dagger under his garment. "I am not in the least amazed," said she to herself, "that this wicked wretch, who is my master's greatest enemy, would eat no salt with him, since he intends to assassinate him; but I will prevent him".

Morgiana, while they were eating, made the necessary preparations for executing one of the boldest acts ever meditated, and had just determined, when Abdoollah came for the dessert of fruit, which she carried up, and as soon as Abdoollah had taken the meat away, set it upon the table; after that, she placed three glasses by Ali Baba, and going out, took Abdoollah with her to sup, and to give Ali Baba the more liberty of conversation with his guest.

Khaujeh Houssain, or rather the captain of the robbers, thought he had now a favourable opportunity of being revenged on Ali Baba. "I will," said he to himself, "make the father and son both drunk: the son, whose life I intend to spare, will not be able to prevent my stabbing his father to the heart; and while the slaves are at supper, or asleep in the kitchen, I can make my escape over the gardens as before."

Instead of going to supper, Morgiana, who had penetrated the intentions of the counterfeit Khaujeh Houssain, would not give him time to put his villanous design into execution, but dressed herself neatly with a suitable head-dress like a dancer, girded her waist with a silver-gilt girdle, to which there hung a poniard with a hilt and guard of the same metal, and put a handsome mask on her face. When she had thus disguised herself, she said to Abdoollah, "Take your tabor, and let us go and divert our master and his son's guest, as we do sometimes when he is alone."

Abdoollah took his tabor and played all the way into the hall before Morgiana, who, when she came to the door, made a low obeisance, with a deliberate air, in order to draw attention, and by way of asking leave to exhibit her skill. Abdoollah, seeing that his master had a mind to say something, left off playing. "Come in, Morgiana," said Ali Baba, "and let Khaujeh Houssain see what you can do, that he may tell us what he thinks of you." "But, sir," said he, turning towards his guest, "do not think that I put myself to any expense to give you this diversion, since these are my slave and my cook and housekeeper; and I hope you will not find the entertainment they give us disagreeable."

Khaujeh Houssain, who did not expect this diversion after supper, began to fear he should not be able to improve the opportunity he thought he had found; but hoped, if he now missed his aim, to secure it another time, by keeping up a friendly correspondence with the father and son; therefore, though he could have wished Ali Baba would have declined the dance, he pretended to be obliged to him for it, and had the complaisance to express his satisfaction at what he saw pleased his host.

As soon as Abdoollah saw that Ali Baba and Khaujeh Houssain had done talking, he began to play on the tabor, and accompanied it with an air; to which Morgiana, who was an excellent performer, danced in such a manner as would have created admiration in any other company besides that before which she now exhibited, among whom, perhaps, none but the false Khaujeh Houssain was in the least attentive to her, the rest having seen her so frequently.

After she had danced several dances with equal propriety and grace, she drew the poniard, and holding it in her hand, began a dance, in which she outdid herself, by the many different figures, light movements, and the surprising leaps and wonderful exertions with which she accompanied it. Sometimes she presented the poniard to one's breast, sometimes to another's, and oftentimes seeming to strike her own. At last, as if she was out of breath, she snatched the tabor from Abdoollah with her left hand, and holding the dagger in her right, presented the other side of the tabor, after the manner of those who get a livelihood by dancing, and solicit the liberality of the spectators.

Ali Baba put a piece of gold into the tabor, as did also his son; and Khaujeh Houssain seeing that she was coming to him, had pulled his purse out of his bosom to make her a present; but while he was putting his hand into it, Morgiana, with a courage and resolution worthy of herself, plunged the poniard into his heart.

Ali Baba and his son, shocked at this action, cried out aloud. "Unhappy wretch!" exclaimed Ali Baba, "what have you done to ruin me and my family?" "It was to preserve, not to ruin you," answered Morgiana; "for see here," continued she (opening the pretended Khaujeh Houssain's garment, and shewing the dagger), "what an enemy you had entertained! Look well at him, and you will find him to be both the fictitious oil-merchant, and the captain of the gang of forty robbers. Remember, too, that he would eat no salt with you; and what would you have more to persuade you of his wicked design? Before I saw him I suspected him as soon as you told me you had such a guest. I knew him, and you now find that my suspicion was not groundless."

Ali Baba, who immediately felt the new obligation he had to Morgiana for saving his life a second time, embraced her: "Morgiana," said he, "I gave you your liberty, and then promised you that my gratitude should not stop there, but that I would soon give you higher proofs of its sincerity, which I now do by making you my daughter-in-law." Then addressing himself to his son, he said, "I believe you, son, to be so dutiful a child, that you will not refuse Morgiana for your wife. You see that Khaujeh Houssain sought your friendship with a treacherous design to take away my life; and, if he had succeeded, there is no doubt but he would have sacrificed you also to his revenge. Consider, that by marrying Morgiana you marry the preserver of my family and your own."

The son, far from shewing any dislike, readily consented to the marriage; not only because he would not disobey his father, but also because it was agreeable to his inclination.

After this, they thought of burying the captain of the robbers with his comrades, and did it so privately that nobody discovered their bones till many years after, when no one had any concern in the publication of this remarkable history.

A few days afterwards, Ali Baba celebrated the nuptials of his son and Morgiana with great solemnity, a sumptuous feast, and the usual dancing and spectacles; and had the satisfaction to see that his friends and neighbours, whom he invited, had no knowledge of the true motives of the marriage; but that those who were not unacquainted with Morgiana's good qualities commended his generosity and goodness of heart.

Ali Baba forbore, after this marriage, from going again to the robbers' cave, as he had done from the time he had brought away his brother Cassim's mangled remains, for fear of being surprised. He kept away after the death of the thirty-seven robbers and their captain, supposing the other two, whom he could get no account of, might be alive.

At the year's end, when he found they had not made any attempt to disturb him, he had the curiosity to make another journey, taking the necessary precautions for his safety. He mounted his horse, and when he came to the cave, and saw no footsteps of men or horses, looked upon it as a good sign. He alighted, tied his horse to a tree, then approaching the entrance, and pronouncing the words, Open, Sesame, the door opened. He entered the cavern, and by the condition he found things in, judged that nobody had been there since the false Khaujeh Houssain, when he had fetched the goods for his shop, that the gang of forty robbers was completely destroyed, and no longer doubted that he was the only person in the world who had the secret of opening the cave, so that all the treasure was at his sole disposal. Having brought with him a wallet, he put into it as much gold as his horse would carry, and returned to town.

Afterwards Ali Baba carried his son to the cave, taught him the secret, which they handed down to their posterity, who, using their good fortune with moderation, lived in great honour and splendour.



THE STORY OF ALI KHAUJEH, A MERCHANT OF BAGDAD.



In the reign of the caliph Haroon al Rusheed, there lived at Bagdad a merchant whose name was Ali Khaujeh, who was neither one of the richest nor poorest of his line. He was a bachelor, and lived in the house which had been his father's, independent and content with the profit he made by his trade. But happening to dream for three successive nights that a venerable old man came to him, and, with a severe look, reprimanded him for not having made a pilgrimage to Mecca, he was much troubled.

As a good Mussulmaun, he knew he was obliged to undertake a pilgrimage; but as he had a house, shop, and goods, he had always believed that they might stand for a sufficient reason to excuse him, endeavouring by his charity, and other good works, to atone for that neglect. After this dream, however, his conscience was so much pricked, that the fear lest any misfortune should befall him made him resolve not to defer it any longer; and to be able to go that year, he sold off his household goods, his shop, and with it the greatest part of his merchandize, reserving only some articles, which he thought might turn to a better account at Mecca; and meeting with a tenant for his house, let that also.

His affairs being thus disposed, he was ready to depart when the Bagdad caravan set out for Mecca: the only thing he had to do was to lodge in some place of security a sum of a thousand pieces of gold, which would have been troublesome to carry with him, with the money he had set apart to defray his expenses on the road, and for other purposes. To this end, he made choice of a jar of a suitable size, put the thousand pieces of gold into it, and covered them over with olives. When he had closed the mouth of the jar, he carried it to a merchant, a particular friend of his, and said to him, "You know, brother, that in a few days I mean to depart with the caravan, on my pilgrimage to Mecca. I beg the favour of you to take charge of a jar of olives, and keep it for me till I return." The merchant promised him he would, and in an obliging manner said, "Here, take the key of my warehouse, and set your jar where you please. I promise you shall find it there when you return."

On the day the caravan was to set out Ali Khaujeh joined it, with a camel loaded with what goods he had thought fit to carry, which also served him to ride on. He arrived safe at Mecca, where he visited, with other pilgrims, the temple so much celebrated and frequented by the faithful of all nations every year, who came from all parts of the world, and observed religiously the ceremonies prescribed them. When he had acquitted himself of the duties of his pilgrimage, he exposed the merchandize he had brought with him for sale or barter, as might be most profitable.

Two merchants passing by, and seeing Ali Khaujeh's goods, thought them so choice, that they stopped some time to look at, though they had no occasion for them; and when they had satisfied their curiosity, one of them said to the other, as they were going away, "If this merchant knew to what profit these goods would turn at Cairo he would carry them thither, and not sell them here, though this is a good mart."

Ali Khaujeh heard these words; and as he had often heard talk of the beauties of Egypt, he was resolved to take the opportunity of seeing them, by performing a journey thither. Therefore, after having packed up his goods again, instead of returning to Bagdad, he set out for Egypt, with the caravan of Cairo. When he came thither, he found his account in his journey, and in a few days sold all his goods to a greater advantage than he had hoped for. With the money he bought others, with an intent to go to Damascus: and while he waited for the opportunity of a caravan, which was to depart in six weeks, visited all the curiosities of Cairo, as also the pyramids, and sailing up the Nile, viewed the famous towns on each side of that river.

As the Damascus caravan took Jerusalem in their way, our Bagdad merchant had the opportunity of visiting the temple, regarded by the Mussulmauns to be the most holy, after that of Mecca, whence this city takes its name of Biel al Mukkuddus, or most sacred mansion.

Ali Khaujeh found Damascus so delicious a place, being environed by verdant meadows, pleasantly watered, and delightful gardens, that it exceeded the descriptions given of it in the journals of travellers. Here he made a long abode, but, nevertheless, did not forget his native Bagdad: for which place he at length set out, and arrived at Aleppo, where he made some stay; and from thence, after having passed the Euphrates, he bent his course to Moussoul, with an intention, in his return, to come by a shorter way down the Tigris.

When Ali Khaujeh came to Moussoul, some Persian merchants, with whom he had travelled from Aleppo, and with whom he had contracted a great friendship, had obtained so great an influence over him by their civilities and agreeable conversation, that they easily persuaded him not to leave them till he should have visited Sheerauz, from whence he might easily return to Bagdad with a considerable profit. They led him through the towns of Sultania, Rei, Coam, Caschan, Ispahan, and from thence to Sheerauz; from whence he had the complaisance to bear them company to Hindoostan, and then returned with them again to Sheerauz; insomuch, that including the stay made in every town, he was seven years absent from Bagdad, whither he then resolved to return.

All this time his friend, with whom he had left his jar of olives, neither thought of him nor them; but at the time when he was on the road with a caravan from Sheerauz, one evening as this merchant was supping with his family, the discourse happened to fall upon olives, and his wife was desirous to eat some, saying, she had not tasted any for a long while. "Now you speak of olives," said the merchant, "you put me in mind of a jar which Ali Khaujeh left with me seven years ago, when he went to Mecca; and put it himself in my warehouse to be kept for him against he returned. What is become of him I know not; though, when the caravan came back, they told me he was gone for Egypt. Certainly he must be dead, since he has not returned in all this time; and we may eat the olives, if they prove good. Give me a plate and a candle, I will go and fetch some of them, and we will taste them."

"For God's sake, husband," said the wife, "do not commit so base an action; you know that nothing is more sacred than what is committed to one's care and trust. You say Ali Khaujeh has left Mecca, and is not returned; but you have been told that he is gone into Egypt; and how do you know but that he may be gone farther? As you have no intelligence of his death, he may return to-morrow for any thing you can tell: and what a disgrace would it be to you and your family if he should come, and you not restore him his jar in the same condition he left it? I declare I have no desire for the olives, and will not taste them, for when I mentioned them it was only by way of conversation; besides, do you think that they can be good, after they have been kept so long? They most be all mouldy, and spoiled; and if Ali Khaujeh should return, as I have a strong persuasion he will, and should find they had been opened, what will he think of your honour? I beg of you to let them alone."

The wife had not argued so long with her husband, but that she read his obstinacy in his face. In short, he never regarded what she said, but got up, took a candle and a plate, and went into the warehouse. "Well, husband," said the wife again, "remember I have no hand in this business; and that you cannot lay any thing to my charge, if you should have cause to repent of your conduit."

The merchant's ears were deaf to these remonstrances of his wife, and he persisted in his design. When he came into the warehouse, he opened the jar, and found the olives mouldy; but to see if they were all so to the bottom, he turned some of them upon the plate; and by shaking the jar, some of the gold tumbled out.

At the sight of the gold, the merchant, who was naturally covetous, looked into the jar, perceived that he had shaken out almost all the olives, and what remained was gold coin. He immediately put the olives into the jar again, covered it up, and returned to his wife. "Indeed, wife," said he, "you were in the right to say that the olives were all mouldy; for I found them so, and have made up the jar just as Ali Khaujeh left it; so that he will not perceive that they have been touched, if he should return." "You had better have taken my advice," said the wife, "and not have meddled with them. God grant no mischief happens in consequence!"

The merchant was not more affected with his wife's last words than he had been by her former, but spent almost the whole night in thinking how he might appropriate Ali Khaujeh's gold to his own use, and keep possession of it in case he should return and ask him for the jar. The next morning he went and bought some olives of that year, took out the old with the gold, and filled the jar with the new, covered it up, and put it in the place where Ali Khaujeh had left it.

About a month after the merchant had committed this unworthy action, Ali Khaujeh arrived at Bagdad; and as he had let his house, alighted at a khan, choosing to stay there till he had announced his arrival to his tenant, and given him time to provide himself with another residence.

The next morning Ali Khaujeh went to pay a visit to the merchant his friend, who received him in the most obliging manner; and expressed great joy at his return, after so many years absence; telling him, that he had begun to lose all hopes of ever seeing him again.

After the usual compliments on both sides on such a meeting, Ali Khaujeh desired the merchant to return him the jar of olives which he had left with him, and to excuse the liberty he had taken in giving him so much trouble.

"My dear friend," replied the merchant, "you are to blame to make these apologies, your vessel has been no inconvenience to me; on such an occasion I should have made as free with you: there is the key of my warehouse, go and fetch your jar; you will find it in the place where you left it."

Ali Khaujeh went into the merchant's warehouse, took his jar; and after having returned him the key with thanks for the favour he had done: him, returned with it to the khan where he lodged; but on opening the jar, and putting his hand down as low as the pieces of gold had lain, was greatly surprised to find none. At first he thought he might perhaps be mistaken; and, to discover the truth, poured out all the olives into his travelling kitchen-utensils, but without so much as finding one single piece of money. His astonishment was so great, that he stood for some time motionless; then lifting up his hands and eyes to Heaven, he exclaimed, "Is it possible that a man, whom I took for my friend, should be guilty of such baseness?"

Ali Khaujeh, alarmed at the apprehension of so considerable a loss, returned immediately to the merchant. "My good friend," said he, "be not surprised to see me come back so soon. I own the jar of olives to be the same I placed in your warehouse; but with the olives I put into it a thousand pieces of gold, which I do not find. Perhaps you might have occasion for them, and have employed them in trade: if so they are at your service till it may be convenient for you to return them; only put me out of my pain, and give me an acknowledgment, after which you may pay me at your own convenience."

The merchant, who had expected that Ali Khaujeh would come with such a complaint, had meditated an answer. "Friend Ali Khaujeh," said he, "when you brought your jar to me did I touch it? did not I give you the key of my warehouse, did not you carry it there yourself, and did not you find it in the same place, covered in the same manner as when you left it? And if you had put gold in it, you must have found it. You told me it contained olives, and I believed you. This is all I know of the matter: you may disbelieve me if you please; but I never touched them."

Ali Khaujeh used all the mild methods he could think of to oblige the merchant to restore his property. "I love peace and quietness," said he to him, "and shall be sorry to come to those extremities which will bring the greatest disgrace upon you; consider, that merchants, as we are, ought to abandon all interest to preserve a good reputation. Once again I tell you, I shall be greatly concerned if your obstinacy oblige me to force you to do me justice; for I would rather almost lose what is my right than have recourse to law."

"Ali Khaujeh," replied the merchant, "you agree that you left a jar of olives with me; and now you have taken it away, you come and ask me for a thousand pieces of gold. Did you ever tell me that such a sum was in the jar? I did not even know that they were olives, for you never showed them to me. I wonder you do not ask me for diamonds and pearls instead of gold; be gone about your business, and do not raise a mob about my warehouse;" for some persons had already collected. These words were pronounced in such great heat and passion, as not only made those who stood about the warehouse already stay longer, and create a greater mob, but the neighbouring merchants came out of their shops to learn what the dispute was between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant, and endeavoured to reconcile them; but when Ali Khaujeh had informed them of his grievance, they asked the merchant what he had to say.

The merchant owned that he had kept the jar for Ali Khaujeh in his warehouse, but denied that ever he had meddled with it; swore that he knew it contained olives, only because Ali Khaujeh told him so, and requested them all to bear witness of the insult and affront offered him. "You bring it upon yourself," said Ali Khaujeh taking him by the arm; "but since you use me so basely, I cite you to the law of God: let us see whether you will have the assurance to say the same thing before the cauzee."

The merchant could not refuse the summons, which every Mussulmaun is bound to observe, or be declared a rebel against religion; but said, "With all my heart; we shall soon see who is in the wrong."

Ali Khaujeh carried the merchant before the magistrate, where he accused him of having, by breach of trust, defrauded him of a thousand pieces of gold, which he had left with him. The cauzee demanded if he had any witnesses; to which he replied, that he had not taken that precaution, because he had believed the person he trusted his money with to be his friend, and always took him for an honest man.

The merchant made the same defence he had done before the merchants his neighbours, offering to make oath that he never had the money he was accused of, and that he did not so much as know there was such a sum; upon which the cauzee took his oath, and dismissed him acquitted for want of evidence.

Ali Khaujeh, extremely mortified to find that he must sit down with so considerable a loss, protested against the sentence, declaring to the cauzee that he would appeal to the caliph, who would do him justice; which protestation the magistrate regarded as the effect of the common resentment of those who lose their cause; and thought he had done his duty in acquitting a person who had been accused without witnesses.

While the merchant returned home triumphing over Ali Khaujeh and overjoyed at his good fortune, the latter went and drew up a petition; and the next day observing the time when the caliph came from noon tide prayers, placed himself in the street he was to pass through; and holding out his hand with the petition, an officer appointed for that purpose, who always goes before the caliph, came and took it to present it.

As Ali Khaujeh knew that it was the caliph's custom to read the petitions at his return to the palace, he went into the court, and waited till the officer who had taken the petition came out of the caliph's apartment, who told him that the caliph had appointed an hour to hear him next day; and then asking him where the merchant lived, he sent to notify to him to attend at the same time.

That same evening, the caliph, accompanied by the grand vizier Jaaffier, and Mesrour the chief of the eunuchs, went disguised through the town, as it was his custom occasionally to do; when, on passing through a street, the caliph heard a noise, and mending his pace, came to a gateway, which led into a little court, in which he perceived ten or twelve children playing by moonlight.

The caliph, who was curious to know at what play the children were engaged, sat down on a stone bench just by; and heard one of the liveliest of the children say, "Let us play at the cauzee I will be the magistrate; bring Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who cheated him of the thousand pieces of gold before me."

These words of the child put the caliph in mind of the petition Ali Khaujeh had given him that day, and made him redouble his attention to see the issue of the trial.

As the affair of Ali Khaujeh and the merchant had made a great noise in Bagdad, it had not escaped the children, who all accepted the proposition with joy, and agreed on the part each was to act: not one of them refused him who made the proposal to be cauzee: and when he had taken his seat, which he did with all the seeming gravity of a judge, another, as an officer of the court, presented two boys before him; one as Ali Khaujeh, and the other as the merchant against whom he complained.

The pretended cauzee then directing his discourse to the feigned Ali Khaujeh, asked him what he had to lay to that merchant's charge?

Ali Khaujeh after a low obeisance, informed the young cauzee of the fact, related every particular, and afterwards begged that he would use his authority, that he might not lose so considerable a sum of money.

The feigned cauzee, turning about to the merchant, then asked him why he did not return the money which Ali Khaujeh demanded of him?

The feigned merchant alleged the same reasons as the real merchant had done before the cauzee himself, and offered to confirm by oath that what he had said was truth.

"Not so fast," replied the pretended cauzee; "before you come to your oath, I should be glad to see the jar of olives. Ali Khaujeh," said he, addressing himself to the boy who acted that part, "have you brought the jar?" "No," replied he. "Then go and fetch it immediately," said the other.

The pretended Ali Khaujeh went immediately, and returning, feigned to set a jar before the cauzee, telling him that it was the same he had left with the accused person, and received from him again. But to omit no part of the formality, the supposed cauzee asked the merchant if it was the same; and as by his silence he seemed not to deny it, he ordered it to be opened. He that represented Ali Khaujeh seemed to take off the cover, and the pretended cauzee made as if he looked into it. "They are fine olives," said he, "let me taste them;" and then pretending to eat some, added, "They are excellent: but," continued he, "I cannot think that olives will keep seven years, and be so good, therefore send for some olive-merchants, and let me hear what is their opinion." Two boys, as olive-merchants, then presented themselves. "Are you olive-merchants?" said the sham cauzee. "Tell me how long olives will keep fit to eat."

"Sir," replied the two merchants, "let us take what care we can, they will hardly be worth any thing the third year; for then they have neither taste nor colour." "If it be so," answered the cauzee, "look into that jar, and tell me how long it is since those olives were put into it?"

The two merchants pretended to examine and to taste the olives, and told the cauzee they were new and good. "You are mistaken," said the young cauzee; "Ali Khaujeh says he put them into the jar seven years ago."

"Sir," replied the merchants, "we can assure you they are of this year's growth: and we will maintain there is not a merchant in Bagdad but will say the same."

The feigned merchant who was accused would have objected against the evidence of the olive-merchants; but the pretended cauzee would not suffer him. "Hold your tongue," said he, "you are a rogue; let him be impaled." The children then concluded their play, clapping their hands with great joy, and seizing the feigned criminal to carry him to execution.

Words cannot express how much the caliph Haroon al Rusheed admired the sagacity and sense of the boy who had passed so just a sentence, in an affair which was to be pleaded before himself the next day. He withdrew, and rising off the bench, asked the grand vizier, who heard all that had passed, what he thought of it. "Indeed, commander of the true believers," answered the grand vizier Jaaffier, "I am surprised to find so much sagacity in one so young."

"But," answered the caliph, "do you know one thing? I am to pronounce sentence in this very cause to-morrow; the true Ali Khaujeh presented his petition to me to-day; and do you think," continued he, "that I can give a better sentence?" "I think not," answered the vizier, "if the case is as the children represented it." "Take notice then of this house," said the caliph, "and bring the boy to me to-morrow, that he may try this cause in my presence; and also order the cauzee, who acquitted the merchant, to attend to learn his duty from a child. Take care likewise to bid Ali Khaujeh bring his jar of olives with him, and let two olive-merchants attend." After this charge he pursued his rounds, without meeting with any thing worth his attention.

The next day the vizier went to the house where the caliph had been a witness of the children's play, and asked for the master; but he being abroad, his wife appeared thickly veiled. He asked her if she had any children. To which she answered, she had three; and called them. "My brave boys," said the vizier, "which of you was the cauzee when you played together last night?" The eldest made answer, it was he: but, not knowing why he asked the question, coloured. "Come along with me, my lad," said the grand vizier; "the commander of the faithful wants to see you."

The mother was alarmed when she saw the grand vizier would take her son with him, and asked, upon what account the caliph wanted him? The grand vizier encouraged her, and promised that he should return again in less than an hour's time, when she would know it from himself. "If it be so, sir," said the mother, "give me leave to dress him first, that he may be fit to appear before the commander of the faithful:" which the vizier readily complied with.

As soon as the child was dressed, the vizier carried him away and presented him to the caliph, at the time he had appointed to hear Ali Khaujeh and the merchant.

The caliph, who saw that the boy was much abashed, in order to encourage him, said, "Come to me, child, and tell me if it was you that determined the affair between Ali Khaujeh and the merchant who had cheated him of his money? I saw and heard the decision, and am very well pleased with you." The boy answered modestly, that it was he. "Well, my son," replied the caliph, "come and sit down by me, and you shall see the true Ali Khaujeh, and the true merchant."

The caliph then took him by the hand, seated him on the throne by him, and asked for the two parties. When they were introduced, they prostrated themselves before the throne, bowing their heads quite down to the carpet that covered it. Afterwards the caliph said to them, "Plead each of you your causes before this child, who will hear and do you justice: and if he should be at a loss I will assist him."

Ali Khaujeh and the merchant pleaded one after the other; but when the merchant proposed his oath as before, the child said, "It is too soon; it is proper that we should see the jar of olives."

At these words Ali Khaujeh presented the jar, placed it at the caliph's feet, and opened it. The caliph looked at the olives, took one and tasted it, giving another to the boy. Afterwards the merchants were called, who examined the olives, and reported that they were good, and of that year. The boy told them, that Ali Khaujeh affirmed that it was seven years since he had put them up; when they returned the same answer as the children, who had represented them the night before.

Though the wretch who was accused saw plainly that these merchants' opinion must convict him, yet he would say something in his own justification. But the child, instead of ordering him to be impaled, looked at the caliph, and said "Commander of the faithful, this is no jesting matter; it is your majesty that must condemn him to death, and not I, though I did it yesterday in play."

The caliph, fully satisfied of the merchant's villany, delivered him into the hands of the ministers of justice to be impaled. The sentence was executed upon him, after he had confessed where he had concealed the thousand pieces of gold, which were restored to Ali Khaujeh. The monarch, most just and equitable, then turning to the cauzee, bade him learn of that child to acquit himself more exactly of his duty; and embracing the boy, sent him home with a purse of a hundred pieces of gold as a token of his liberality and admiration of his acuteness.



End of Volume 3.



The "Aldine" Edition of

The Arabian Nights Entertainments

Illustrated by S. L. Wood

FROM THE TEXT OF DR. JONATHAN SCOTT

In Four Volumes

Volume 4

London Pickering and Chatto 1890



Contents of Volume IV.

The Story of the Enchanted Horse The Story of Prince Ahmed, and the Fairy Perie Banou The Story of the Sisters Who Envied Their Younger Sister Story of the Three Sharpers and the Sultan The Adventures of the Abdicated Sultan History of Mahummud, Sultan of Cairo Story of the First Lunatic Story of the Second Lunatic Story of the Retired Sage and His Pupil, Related to the Sultan by the Second Lunatic Story of the Broken-backed Schoolmaster Story of the Wry-mouthed Schoolmaster Story of the Sisters and the Sultana Their Mother Story of the Bang-eater and the Cauzee Story of the Bang-eater and His Wife The Sultan and the Traveller Mhamood Al Hyjemmee The Koord Robber Story of the Husbandman Story of the Three Princes and Enchanting Bird Story of a Sultan of Yemen and His Three Sons Story of the First Sharper in the Cave History of the Sultan of Hind Story of the Fisherman's Son Story of Abou Neeut and Abou Neeuteen; Or, the Well-intentioned and the Double-minded Adventure of a Courtier, Related by Himself to His Parton, an Ameer of Egypt Story of the Prince of Sind, and Fatima, Daughter of Amir Bin Naomaun Story of the Lovers of Syria; Or, the Heroine Story of Hyjauje, the Tyrannical Governor of Coufeh, and the Young Syed Story of Ins Alwujjood and Wird Al Ikmaum, Daughter of Ibrahim, Vizier to Sultan Shamikh The Adventures of Mazin of Khorassaun Story of the Sultan the Dervish, and the Barber's Son Adventures of Aleefa Daughter of Mherejaun Sultan of Hind, and Eusuff, Son of Sohul, Sultan of Sind Adventures of the Three Princes, Sons of the Sultan of China Story of the Good Vizier Unjustly Imprisoned Story of the Lady of Cairo and Her Four Gallants The Cauzee's Story Story of the Merchant, His Daughter, and the Prince of Eerauk Adventures of the Cauzee, His Wife, &c The Sultan's Story of Himself Conclusion



THE STORY OF THE ENCHANTED HORSE.



The Nooroze, or the new day, which is the first of the year and spring, is observed as a solemn festival throughout all Persia, which has been continued from the time of idolatry; and our prophet's religion, pure as it is, and true as we hold it, has not been able to abolish that heathenish custom, and the superstitious ceremonies which are observed, not only in the great cities, but celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings in every little town, village, and hamlet.

But the rejoicings are the most splendid at the court, for the variety of new and surprising spectacles, insomuch that strangers are invited from the neighbouring states, and the most remote parts, by the rewards and liberality of the sovereign, towards those who are the most excellent in their invention and contrivance. In short, nothing in the rest of the world can compare with the magnificence of this festival.

One of these festival days, after the most ingenious artists of the country had repaired to Sheerauz, where the court then resided, had entertained the king and all the court with their productions, and had been bountifully and liberally rewarded according to their merit and to their satisfaction by the monarch; when the assembly was just breaking up, a Hindoo appeared at the foot of the throne, with an artificial horse richly caparisoned, and so naturally imitated, that at first sight he was taken for a living animal.

The Hindoo prostrated himself before the throne; and pointing to the horse, said to the emperor, "Though I present myself the last before your majesty, yet I can assure you that nothing shewn to-day is so wonderful as this horse, on which I beg your majesty would be pleased to cast your eyes." "I see nothing more in the horse," said the emperor, "than the natural resemblance the workman has given him; which the skill of another workman may possibly execute as well or better."

"Sir," replied the Hindoo, "it is not for his outward form and appearance that I recommend my horse to your majesty's examination as wonderful, but the use to which I can apply him, and which, when I have communicated the secret to them, any other persons may make of him. Whenever I mount him, be it where it may, if I wish to transport myself through the air to the most distant part of the world, I can do it in a very short time. This, sir, is the wonder of my horse; a wonder which nobody ever heard speak of, and which I offer to shew your majesty, if you command me."

The emperor of Persia, who was fond of every thing that was curious, and notwithstanding the many prodigies of art he had seen had never beheld or heard of anything that came up to this, told the Hindoo, that nothing but the experience of what he asserted could convince him: and that he was ready to see him perform what he had promised.

The Hindoo instantly put his foot into the stirrup, mounted his horse with admirable agility, and when he had fixed himself in the saddle, asked the emperor whither he pleased to command him.

About three leagues from Sheerauz there was a lofty mountain discernible from the large square before the palace, where the emperor, his court, and a great concourse of people, then were. "Do you see that mountain?" said the emperor, pointing to it; "it is not a great distance from hence, but it is far enough to judge of the speed you can make in going and returning. But because it is not possible for the eye to follow you so far, as a proof that you have been there, I expect that you will bring me a branch of a palm-tree that grows at the bottom of the hill."

The emperor of Persia had no sooner declared his will than the Hindoo turned a peg, which was in the hollow of the horse's neck, just by the pummel of the saddle; and in an instant the horse rose off the ground and carried his rider into the air with the rapidity of lightning to such a height, that those who had the strongest sight could not discern him, to the admiration of the emperor and all the spectators. Within less than a quarter of an hour they saw him returning with the palm branch in his hand; but before he descended, he took two or three turns in the air over the spot, amid the acclamations of all the people; then alighted on the spot whence he had set off, without receiving the least shock from the horse to disorder him. He dismounted, and going up to the throne, prostrated himself, and laid the branch of the palm-tree at the feet of the emperor.

The emperor, who had viewed with no less admiration than astonishment this unheard-of sight which the Hindoo had exhibited, conceived a great desire to have the horse; and as he persuaded himself that he should not find it a difficult matter to treat with the Hindoo, for whatever sum of money he should value it at, began to regard it as the most valuable thing in his treasury. "Judging of thy horse by his outward appearance," said he to the Hindoo, "I did not think him so much worth my consideration. As you have shewn me his merits, I am obliged to you for undeceiving me; and to prove to you how much I esteem it, I will purchase him of you, if he is to be sold."

"Sir," replied the Hindoo, "I never doubted that your majesty, who has the character of the most liberal prince on earth, would set a just value on my work as soon as I had shewn you on what account he was worthy your attention. I also foresaw that you would not only admire and commend it, but would desire to have it. Though I know his intrinsic value, and that my continuing master of him would render my name immortal in the world; yet I am not so fond of fame but I can resign him, to gratify your majesty; however, in making this declaration, I have another to add, without which I cannot resolve to part with him, and perhaps you may not approve of it.

"Your majesty will not be displeased," continued the Hindoo, "if I tell you that I did not buy this horse, but obtained him of the inventor, by giving him my only daughter in marriage, and promising at the same time never to sell him; but if I parted with him to exchange him for something that I should value beyond all else."

The Hindoo was proceeding, when at the word exchange, the emperor of Persia interrupted him. "I am willing," said he, "to give you whatever you may ask in exchange. You know my kingdom is large, and contains many great, rich, and populous cities; I will give you the choice of which you like best, in full sovereignty for life."

This exchange seemed royal and noble to the whole court; but was much below what the Hindoo had proposed to himself, who had raised his thoughts much higher. "I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for the offer you make me," answered he, "and cannot thank you enough for your generosity; yet I must beg of you not to be displeased if I have the presumption to tell you, that I cannot resign my horse, but by receiving the hand of the princess your daughter as my wife: this is the only price at which I can part with my property."

The courtiers about the emperor of Persia could not forbear laughing aloud at this extravagant demand of the Hindoo; but the prince Firoze Shaw, the eldest son of the emperor, and presumptive heir to the crown, could not hear it without indignation. The emperor was of a very different opinion, and thought he might sacrifice the princess of Persia to the Hindoo, to satisfy his curiosity. He remained however undetermined, considering what he should do.

Prince Firoze Shaw, who saw his father hesitated what answer to make, began to fear lest he should comply with the Hindoo's demand, and regarded it as not only injurious to the royal dignity, and to his sister, but also to himself; therefore to anticipate his father, he said, "Sir, I hope your majesty will forgive me for daring to ask, if it is possible your majesty should hesitate about a denial to so insolent a demand from such an insignificant fellow, and so scandalous a juggler? or give him reason to flatter himself a moment with being allied to one of the most powerful monarchs in the world? I beg of you to consider what you owe to yourself, to your own blood, and the high rank of your ancestors."

"Son," replied the emperor of Persia, "I much approve of your remonstrance, and am sensible of your zeal for preserving the lustre of your birth; but you do not consider sufficiently the excellence of this horse; nor that the Hindoo, if I should refuse him, may make the offer somewhere else, where this nice point of honour may be waived. I shall be in the utmost despair if another prince should boast of having exceeded me in generosity, and deprived me of the glory of possessing what I esteem as the most singular and wonderful thing in the world. I will not say I consent to grant him what he asked. Perhaps he has not well considered his exorbitant demand: and putting my daughter the princess out of the question, I may make another agreement with him that will answer his purpose as well. But before I conclude the bargain with him, I should be glad that you would examine the horse, try him yourself, and give me your opinion."

As it is natural for us to flatter ourselves in what we desire, the Hindoo fancied, from what he had heard, that the emperor was not entirely averse to his alliance, and that the prince might become more favourable to him; therefore, he expressed much joy, ran before the prince to help him to mount, and shewed him how to guide and manage the horse.

The prince mounted without the Hindoo's assisting him; and no sooner had he got his feet in both stirrups, but without staying for the artist's advice, he turned the peg he had seen him use, when instantly the horse darted into the air, quick as an arrow shot out of a bow by the most adroit archer; and in a few moments the emperor his father and the numerous assembly lost sight of him. Neither horse nor prince were to be seen. The Hindoo, alarmed at what had happened, prostrated himself before the throne, and said, "Your majesty must have remarked the prince was so hasty, that he would not permit me to give him the necessary instructions to govern my horse. From what he saw me do, he was ambitious of shewing that he wanted not my advice. He was too eager to shew his address, but knows not the way, which I was going to shew him, to turn the horse, and make him descend at the wish of his rider. Therefore, the favour I ask of your majesty is, not to make me accountable for what accidents may befall him; you are too just to impute to me any misfortune that may attend him."

This address of the Hindoo much surprised and afflicted the emperor, who saw the danger his son was in to be inevitable, if, as the Hindoo said, there was a secret to bring him back, different from that which carried him away; and asked, in a passion, why he did not call him the moment he ascended?

"Sir," answered the Hindoo, "your majesty saw as well as I with what rapidity the horse flew away. The surprise I was then, and still am in, deprived me of the use of my speech; but if I could have spoken, he was got too far to hear me. If he had heard me, he knew not the secret to bring him back, which, through his impatience, he would not stay to learn. But, sir," added he, "there is room to hope that the prince, when he finds himself at a loss, will perceive another peg, and as soon as he turns that, the horse will cease to rise, and descend to the ground, when he may turn him to what place he pleases by guiding him with the bridle."

Notwithstanding all these arguments of the Hindoo, which carried great appearance of probability, the emperor of Persia was much alarmed at the evident danger of his son. "I suppose," replied he, "it is very uncertain whether my son may perceive the other peg, and make a right use of it; may not the horse, instead of lighting on the ground, fall upon some rock, or tumble into the sea with him?"

"Sir," replied the Hindoo, "I can deliver your majesty from this apprehension, by assuring you, that the horse crosses seas without ever falling into them, and always carries his rider wherever he may wish to go. And your majesty may assure yourself, that if the prince does but find out the other peg I mentioned, the horse will carry him where he pleases. It is not to be supposed that he will stop any where but where he can find assistance, and make himself known."

"Be it as it may," replied the emperor of Persia, "as I cannot depend upon the assurance you give me, your head shall answer for my son's life, if he does not return safe in three days' time, or I should hear that he is alive." He then ordered his officers to secure the Hindoo, and keep him close prisoner; after which he retired to his palace in affliction that the festival of Nooroze should have proved so inauspicious.

In the mean time the prince was carried through the air with prodigious velocity; and in less than an hour's time had ascended so high, that he could not distinguish any thing on the earth, but mountains and plains seemed confounded together. It was then he began to think of returning, and conceived he might do this by turning the same peg the contrary way, and pulling the bridle at the same time. But when he found that the horse still rose with the same swiftness, his alarm was great. He turned the peg several times, one way and the other, but all in vain. It was then he grew sensible of his fault, in not having learnt the necessary precautions to guide the horse before he mounted. He immediately apprehended the great danger he was in, but that apprehension did not deprive him of his reason. He examined the horse's head and neck with attention, and perceived behind the right ear another peg, smaller than the other. He turned that peg, and presently perceived that he descended in the same oblique manner as he had mounted, but not so swiftly.

Night had overshadowed that part of the earth over which the prince was when he found out and turned the small peg; and as the horse descended, he by degrees lost sight of the sun, till it grew quite dark; insomuch that, instead of choosing what place he would go to, he was forced to let the bridle lie upon the horse's neck, and wait patiently till he alighted, though not without the dread lest it should be in the desert, a river, or the sea.

At last the horse stopped upon some solid substance about midnight, and the prince dismounted very faint and hungry, having eaten nothing since the morning, when he came out of the palace with his father to assist at the festival. He found himself to be on the terrace of a magnificent palace, surrounded with a balustrade of white marble, breast high; and groping about, reached a staircase, which led down into an apartment, the door of which was half open.

Few but prince Firoze Shaw would have ventured to descend those stairs dark as it was, and in the danger he exposed himself to from friends or foes. But no consideration could stop him. "I do not come," said he to himself, "to do anybody harm; and certainly, whoever meets or sees me first, and finds that I have no arms in my hands, will not attempt any thing against my life, before they hear what I have to say for myself." After this reflection, he opened the door wider, without making any noise, went softly down the stairs, that he might not awaken anybody; and when he came to a landing-place on the staircase, found the door of a great hall, that had a light in it, open.

The prince stopped at the door, and listening, heard no other noise than the snoring of some people who were fast asleep. He advanced a little into the room, and by the light of a lamp saw that those persons were black eunuchs, with naked sabres laid by them; which was enough to inform him that this was the guard-chamber of some sultan or princess; which latter it proved to be.

In the next room to this the princess lay, as appeared by the light, the door being open, through a silk curtain, which drew before the door-way, whither prince Firoze Shaw advanced on tip-toe, without waking the eunuchs. He drew aside the curtain, went in, and without staying to observe the magnificence of the chamber, gave his attention to something of greater importance. He saw many beds; only one of them on a sofa, the rest on the floor. The princess slept in the first, and her women in the others.

This distinction was enough to direct the prince. He crept softly towards the bed, without waking either the princess or her women, and beheld a beauty so extraordinary, that he was charmed, and inflamed with love at the first sight. "O heavens!" said he to himself, "has my fate brought me hither to deprive me of my liberty, which hitherto I have always preserved? How can I avoid certain slavery, when those eyes shall open, since, without doubt, they complete the lustre of this assemblage of charms! I must quickly resolve, since I cannot stir without being my own murderer; for so has necessity ordained."

After these reflections on his situation, and on the princess's beauty, he fell on his knees, and twitching gently the princess's sleeve, pulled it towards him. The princess opened her eyes, and seeing a handsome man on his knees, was in great surprise; yet seemed to shew no sign of fear.

The prince availed himself of this favourable moment, bowed his head to the ground, and rising said, "Beautiful princess, by the most extraordinary and wonderful adventure, you see at your feet a suppliant prince, son of the emperor of Persia, who was yesterday morning in his court, at the celebration of a solemn festival, but is now in a strange country, in danger of his life, if you have not the goodness and generosity to afford him your assistance and protection. These I implore, adorable princess, with confidence that you will not refuse me. I have the more ground to persuade myself, as so much beauty and majesty cannot entertain inhumanity."

The personage to whom prince Firoze Shaw so happily addressed himself was the princess of Bengal, eldest daughter of the Rajah of that kingdom, who had built this palace at a small distance from his capital, whither she went to take the benefit of the country air. After she had heard the prince with all the candour he could desire, she replied with equal goodness, "Prince, you are not in a barbarous country; take courage; hospitality, humanity, and politeness are to be met with in the kingdom of Bengal, as well as in that of Persia. It is not merely I who grant you the protection you ask; you not only have found it in my palace, but will meet it throughout the whole kingdom; you may believe me, and depend on what I say."

The prince of Persia would have thanked the princess for her civility, and had already bowed down his head to return the compliment; but she would not give him leave to speak. "Notwithstanding I desire," said she, "to know by what miracle you have come hither from the capital of Persia in so short a time; and by what enchantment you have been able to penetrate so far as to come to my apartment, and to have evaded the vigilance of my guards; yet, as it is impossible but you must want some refreshment, and regarding you as a welcome guest, I will waive my curiosity, and give orders to my women to regale you, and shew you an apartment, that you may rest yourself after your fatigue, and be better able to satisfy my curiosity."

The princess's women, who awoke at the first words which the prince addressed to the princess, were in the utmost surprise to see a man at the princess's feet, as they could not conceive how he had got thither, without waking them or the eunuchs. They no sooner comprehended the princess's intentions, than they were ready to obey her commands. They each took a wax candle, of which there were great numbers lighted up in the room; and after the prince had respectfully taken leave, went before and conducted him into a handsome chamber; where, while some were preparing the bed, others went into the kitchen; and notwithstanding it was so unseasonable an hour, they did not make prince Firoze Shaw wait long, but brought him presently a collation; and when he had eaten as much as he chose, removed the trays, and left him to taste the sweets of repose.

In the mean time, the princess of Bengal was so struck with the charms, wit, politeness, and other good qualities which she had discovered in her short interview with the prince, that she could not sleep: but when her women came into her room again asked them if they had taken care of him, if he wanted any thing; and particularly, what they thought of him?

The women, after they had satisfied her as to the first queries, answered to the last: "We do not know what you may think of him, but, for our parts, we are of opinion you would be very happy if your father would marry you to so amiable a youth; for there is not a prince in all the kingdom of Bengal to be compared to him; nor can we hear that any of the neighbouring princes are worthy of you."

This flattering compliment was not displeasing to the princess of Bengal; but as she had no mind to declare her sentiments, she imposed silence, telling them that they talked without reflection, bidding them return to rest, and let her sleep.

The next day the princess took more pains in dressing and adjusting herself at the glass than she had ever done before. She never tired her women's patience so much, by making them do and undo the same thing several times. She adorned her head, neck, arms, and waist, with the finest and largest diamonds she possessed. The habit she put on was one of the richest stuffs of the Indies, of a most beautiful colour, and made only for kings, princes, and princesses. After she had consulted her glass, and asked her women, one after another, if any thing was wanting to her attire, she sent to know, if the prince of Persia was awake; and as she never doubted but that, if he was up and dressed, he would ask leave to come and pay his respects to her, she charged the messenger to tell him she would make him the visit, and she had her reasons for this.

The prince of Persia, who by the night's rest had recovered the fatigue he had undergone the day before, had just dressed himself, when he received the princess of Bengal's compliments by one of her women. Without giving the lady who brought the message leave to communicate it, he asked her, if it was proper for him then to go and pay his respects to the princess; and when the lady had acquitted herself of her errand, he replied, "It shall be as the princess thinks fit; I came here to be solely at her pleasure."

As soon as the princess understood that the prince of Persia waited for her, she immediately went to pay him a visit. After mutual compliments, the prince asking pardon for having waked the princess out of a profound sleep, and the princess inquiring after his health, and how he had rested, the princess sat down on a sofa, as did also the prince, though at some distance, out of respect.

The princess then resuming the conversation, said, "I would have received you, prince, in the chamber in which you found me last night; but as the chief of my eunuchs has the liberty of entering it, and never comes further without my leave, from my impatience to hear the surprising adventure which procured me the happiness of seeing you, I chose to come hither, that we may not be interrupted; therefore I beg of you to give me that satisfaction, which will highly oblige me."

Prince Firoze Shaw, to gratify the princess of Bengal, began with describing the festival of the Nooroze, and mentioned the shows which had amazed the court of Persia, and the people of Sheerauz. Afterwards he came to the enchanted horse; the description of which, with the account of the wonders which the Hindoo had performed before so august an assembly, convinced the princess that nothing of that kind could be imagined more surprising in the world. "You may well think, charming princess," continued the prince of Persia, "that the emperor my father, who cares not what he gives for any thing that is rare and curious, would be very desirous to purchase such a curiosity. He asked the Hindoo what he would have for him; who made him an extravagant reply, telling him, that he had not bought him, but taken him in exchange for his only daughter, and could not part with him but on the like condition, which was to have his consent to marry the princess my sister.

"The crowd of courtiers, who stood about the emperor my father, hearing the extravagance of this proposal, laughed loudly; I for my part conceived such great indignation, that I could not disguise it; and the more, because I saw that my father was doubtful what answer he should give. In short, I believe he would have granted him what he asked, if I had not represented to him how injurious it would be to his honour; yet my remonstrance could not bring him entirely to quit his design of sacrificing the princess my sister to so despicable a person. He fancied he should bring me over to his opinion, if once I could comprehend, as he imagined he did, the singular worth of this horse. With this view he would have me mount, and make a trial of him myself.

"To please my father, I mounted the horse, and as soon as I was upon his back, put my hand on a peg, as I had seen the Hindoo do before, to make the horse mount into the air, without stopping to take instructions of the owner for his guidance or descent. The instant I touched the peg, the horse ascended, as swift as an arrow shot out of a bow, and I was presently at such a distance from the earth that I could not distinguish any object. From the swiftness of the motion I was for some time unapprehensive of the danger to which I was exposed; when I grew sensible of it, I endeavoured to turn the peg the contrary way. But the experiment would not answer my expectation, for still the horse rose, and carried me a greater distance from the earth. At last I perceived another peg, which I turned, and then I grew sensible that the horse descended towards the earth, and presently found myself so surrounded with darkness, that it was impossible for me to guide the machine. In this condition I laid the bridle on his neck, and trusted myself to the will of God to dispose of my fate.

"At length the horse stopped, I got off his back, and examining whereabouts I might be, perceived myself on the terrace of this palace, and found the door of the staircase half open. I came softly down the stairs, and seeing a door open, put my head into the room, perceived some eunuchs asleep, and a great light in an adjoining chamber. The necessity I was under, notwithstanding the inevitable danger to which I should be exposed, if the eunuchs had waked, inspired me with the boldness, or rather rashness, to cross that room to get to the other.

"It is needless," added the prince, "to tell you the rest, since you are not unacquainted with all that passed afterwards. But I am obliged in duty to thank you for your goodness and generosity, and to beg of you to let me know how I may shew my gratitude. According to the law of nations I am already your slave, and cannot make you an offer of my person; there only remains my heart: but, alas! princess, what do I say? My heart is no longer my own, your charms have forced it from me, but in such a manner, that I will never ask for it again, but yield it up; give me leave, therefore, to declare you mistress both of my heart and inclination."

These last words of the prince were pronounced with such an air and tone, that the princess of Bengal never doubted of the effect she had expected from her charms; neither did she seem to resent the precipitate declaration of the prince of Persia. Her blushes served but to heighten her beauty, and render her more amiable in his eyes.

As soon as she had recovered herself, she replied, "Prince, you have given me sensible pleasure, by telling me your wonderful adventure. But, on the other hand, I can hardly forbear shuddering, when I think on the height you were in the air; and though I have the good fortune to see you here safe and well, I was in pain till you came to that part where the horse fortunately descended upon the terrace of my palace. The same thing might have happened in a thousand other places. I am glad that chance has given me the preference to the whole world, and of the opportunity of letting you know, that it could not have conducted you to any place where you could have been received with greater pleasure.

"But, prince," continued she, "I should think myself offended, if I believed that the thought you mentioned of being my slave was serious, and that it did not proceed from your politeness rather than from a sincerity of sentiment; for, by the reception I gave you yesterday, you might assure yourself you are here as much at liberty as in the midst of the court of Persia.

"As to your heart," added the princess, in a tone which shewed nothing less than a refusal, "as I am persuaded that you have not lived so long without disposing of it, and that you could not fail of making choice of a princess who deserves it, I should be sorry to give you an occasion to be guilty of infidelity to her."

Prince Firoze Shaw would have protested that when he left Persia he was master of his own heart: but, at that instant, one of the princess's ladies in waiting came to tell that a collation was served up.

This interruption delivered the prince and princess from an explanation, which would have been equally embarrassing to both, and of which they stood in need. The princess of Bengal was fully convinced of the prince of Persia's sincerity; and the prince, though the princess had not explained herself, judged nevertheless from some words she had let fall, that he had no reason to complain.

As the lady held the door open, the princess of Bengal said to the prince, rising off her seat, as he did also from his, "I am not used to eat so early; but as I fancied you might have had but an indifferent supper last night, I ordered breakfast to be got ready sooner than ordinary." After this compliment she led him into a magnificent hall, where a cloth was laid covered with great plenty of choice and excellent viands; and as soon as they were seated, many beautiful slaves of the princess, richly dressed, began a most agreeable concert of vocal and instrumental music, which lasted the whole time of eating.

This concert was so sweet and well managed, that it did not in the least interrupt the prince and princess's conversation. The prince served the princess with the choicest of every thing, and strove to outdo her in civility, both by words and actions, which she returned with many new compliments: and in this reciprocal commerce of civilities and attentions, love made a greater progress in both than a concerted interview would have promoted.

When they rose, the princess conducted the prince into a large and magnificent saloon, embellished with paintings in blue and gold, and richly furnished; there they both sat down in a balcony, which afforded a most agreeable prospect into the palace garden, which prince Firoze Shaw admired for the vast variety of flowers, shrubs, and trees, which were full as beautiful as those of Persia, but quite different. Here taking the opportunity of entering into conversation with the princess, he said, "I always believed, madam, that no part of the world but Persia afforded such stately palaces and beautiful gardens; but now I see, that other great monarchs know as well how to build mansions suitable to their power and greatness; and if there is a difference in the manner of building, there is none in the degree of grandeur and magnificence."

"Prince," replied the princess of Bengal, "as I have no idea of the palaces of Persia, I cannot judge of the comparison you have made of mine. But, however sincere you seem to be, I can hardly think it just, but rather incline to believe it a compliment: I will not despise my palace before you; you have too good an eye, too good a taste not to form a sound judgment. But I assure you, I think it very indifferent when I compare it with the king my father's, which far exceeds it for grandeur, beauty, and richness; you shall tell me yourself what you think of it, when you have seen it: for since a chance has brought you so nigh to the capital of this kingdom, I do not doubt but you will see it, and make my father a visit, that he may pay you all the honour due to a prince of your rank and merit."

The princess flattered herself, that by exciting in the prince of Persia a curiosity to see the capital of Bengal, and to visit her father, the king, seeing him so handsome, wise, and accomplished a prince, might perhaps resolve to propose an alliance with him, by offering her to him as a wife. And as she was well persuaded she was not indifferent to the prince, and that he would be pleased with the proposal, she hoped to attain to the utmost of her wishes, and preserve all the decorum becoming a princess, who would appear resigned to the will of her king and father; but the prince of Persia did not return her an answer according to her expectation.

"Princess," he replied, "the preference which you give the king of Bengal's palace to your own is enough to induce me to believe it much exceeds it: and as to the proposal of my going and paying my respects to the king your father, I should not only do myself a pleasure, but an honour. But judge, princess, yourself, would you advise me to present myself before so great a monarch, like an adventurer, without attendants, and a train suitable to my rank?"

"Prince," replied the princess, "let not that give you any pain; if you will but go, you shall want no money to have what train and attendants you please: I will furnish you; and we have traders here of all nations in great numbers, and you may make choice of as many as you please to form your household."

Prince Firoze Shaw penetrated the princess of Bengal's intention, and this sensible mark of her love still augmented his passion, which, notwithstanding its violence, made him not forget his duty. Without any hesitation he replied, "Princess, I should most willingly accept of the obliging offer you make me, for which I cannot sufficiently shew my gratitude, if the uneasiness my father must feel on account of my absence did not prevent me. I should be unworthy of the tenderness he has always had for me, if I should not return as soon as possible to calm his fears. I know him so well, that while I have the happiness of enjoying the conversation of so lovely a princess, I am persuaded he is plunged into the deepest grief, and has lost all hopes of seeing me again. I trust you will do me the justice to believe, that I cannot, without ingratitude, and being guilty of a crime, dispense with going to restore to him that life, which a too long deferred return may have endangered already.

"After this, princess," continued the prince of Persia, "if you will permit me, and think me worthy to aspire to the happiness of becoming your husband, as my father has always declared that he never would constrain me in my choice, I should find it no difficult matter to get leave to return, not as a stranger, but as a prince, to contract an alliance with your father by our marriage; and I am persuaded that the emperor will be overjoyed when I tell him with what generosity you received me, though a stranger in distress."

The princess of Bengal was too reasonable, after what the prince of Persia had said, to persist any longer in persuading him to pay a visit to the raja of Bengal, or to ask any thing of him contrary to his duty and honour. But she was much alarmed to find he thought of so sudden a departure; fearing, that if he took his leave of her so soon, instead of remembering his promise, he would forget when he ceased to see her. To divert him from his purpose, she said to him, "Prince, my intention of proposing a visit to my father was not to oppose so just a duty as that you mention, and which I did not foresee. But I cannot approve of your going so soon as you propose; at least grant me the favour I ask of a little longer acquaintance; and since I have had the happiness to have you alight in the kingdom of Bengal, rather than in the midst of a desert, or on the top of some steep craggy rock, from which it would have been impossible for you to descend, I desire you will stay long enough to enable you to give a better account at the court of Persia of what you may see here."

The sole end the princess had in this request was, that the prince of Persia, by a longer stay, might become insensibly more passionately enamoured of her charms; hoping thereby that his ardent desire of returning would diminish, and then he might be brought to appear in public, and pay a visit to the Rajah of Bengal. The prince of Persia could not well refuse her the favour she asked, after the kind reception she had given him; and therefore politely complied with her request; and the princess's thoughts were directed to render his stay agreeable by all the amusements she could devise.

Nothing went forward for several days but concerts of music, accompanied with magnificent feasts and collations in the gardens, or hunting-parties in the vicinity of the palace, which abounded with all sorts of game, stags, hinds, and fallow deer, and other beasts peculiar to the kingdom of Bengal, which the princess could pursue without danger. After the chase, the prince and princess met in some beautiful spot, where a carpet was spread, and cushions laid for their accommodation. There resting themselves, after their violent exercise, they conversed on various subjects. The princess took pains to turn the conversation on the grandeur, power, riches, and government of Persia; that from the prince's replies she might have an opportunity to talk of the kingdom of Bengal, and its advantages, and engage him to resolve to make a longer stay there; but she was disappointed in her expectations.

The prince of Persia, without the least exaggeration, gave so advantageous an account of the extent of the kingdom of Persia, its magnificence and riches, its military force, its commerce by sea and land with the most remote parts of the world, some of which were unknown even to him; the vast number of large cities it contained, almost as populous as that which the emperor had chosen for his residence, where he had palaces furnished ready to receive him at all seasons of the year; so that he had his choice always to enjoy a perpetual spring; that before he had concluded, the princess found the kingdom of Bengal to be very much inferior to that of Persia in a great many respects. When he had finished his relation, he begged of her to entertain him with a description of Bengal.