The teller of tales says that, once upon a time, there lived a woman whose only child was a daughter, so beautiful that, of all who saw her, not one had ever beheld her equal. And this daughter not only was fair to look upon, she was gentle and kind to everyone and very loving and obedient to her mother. Indeed, there seemed to be nothing wanting to the happiness of these two.

Her mother had taught the young girl to weave the most delicate lace, and during some portion of every day she sat in her own room and carefully wrought out the pattern. Late one afternoon, as she was engaged thus, a bird flew in at the window. This did not seem strange to one with whom the birds were so friendly that every day they came to eat from her hand. But as she looked upon this little visitor, he seemed unlike those that came to her daily.

Lowering his head three times, he opened his [ 45 ] bill and spoke to her. The words that he said were very terrible: “Gentle maiden,” quoth the bird, “during forty nights shalt thou keep watch beside a corpse. After that it shall happen to thee according to thy strongest wish.”

The young girl was so surprised and alarmed that she could not command her tongue to ask the bird why this must come to her. Before she became calm the bird had flown.

Now, because the girl loved her mother very deeply, she delayed to speak of this strange matter. At night she went to bed and slept, and when morning came, took up her accustomed duties. At the approach of evening the strange bird came again, spoke as before, and flew away.

Sick at heart, the poor girl ran to her mother and confided all that had passed. The mother, greatly alarmed, questioned her daughter closely. “Dost thou fear another visit from the bird, my child?”

“Twice has he come to me. He will surely come once more. Thou knowest well, my mother, that one who has a second warning surely must receive a third.”

“Ai, my daughter!” exclaimed the mother. “And at what time will the bird visit thee?”

“To-morrow, toward evening,” answered the girl. [ 46 ]

Accordingly, when the shadows lengthened upon the morrow, the mother hid herself in a closet at one end of her daughter’s room. At the expected time, while the girl sat working upon her lace, the same bird entered, lowered his head three times, and spoke the same words—with this slight difference, that he addressed the maiden as sultana.

After the words were spoken, the bird turned to the window and was soon beyond sight.

The poor mother had overheard all. As the two flew to embrace each other the mother cried: “Ai, my daughter, let us fly! Let us try to escape from the power of this cruel bird.”

And the girl answered, “Let us fly together, mother, come what will!”

They made haste to gather those goods which were light in weight but heavy in worth; after which they closed the doors of their home and set forth, with all speed, upon a journey which they well knew must be perilous.

They rested but little, one of them always keeping watch. After several days of travel they came to a magnificent palace. Hastening to its walls, they sat down in the shadow and considered what they would better do next. Being weary, they lay down in a hidden spot, and although the mother was firm in her will to remain awake, a strange power [ 47 ] took hold upon her that she could not resist. Sleep closed her eyes. She became unconscious.

Upon this the strange bird again made its appearance, and, although it seemed not larger than an ordinary songster, it possessed such strength as to lift the sleeping girl. Gently it bore her over the wall and into a room of the palace, where it laid her upon a beautiful golden divan.

Almost immediately the sleeper opened her eyes, and discovered that she was separated from her mother and within the palace. She arose and looked about her. Lying upon a bier in the middle of the room, under a white, transparent covering, was a corpse.

When her eyes fell upon this the poor girl nearly went out of her senses for terror, and exclaimed: “Evil is upon me! That which the bird foretold was, indeed, very truth.”

Then she sought eagerly to find a way out, in order that she might bring her mother within. The rooms of the palace were very large and magnificent; but no person could be found in them. And whenever she entered one of them and hastened to another door, she found herself, as if by magic, in the one where had been her awakening and beside the stately bier.

Hour after hour she struggled. Every trial ended [ 48 ] with the same experience. She found herself, again and again, in the lonely room with only the body upon the bier for company. At last she was exhausted, and began to understand that escape was impossible—that some mighty power had torn her from her beloved mother. In the hope that obedience to fate would make her sentence lighter, she said: “I will bear whatever is allotted to me. Afterward, if Allah will, it may be for the best.”

Let the girl remain here while we return to the mother.

Morning came, and, the strange influence having spent itself, the woman awakened. Turning toward the place where she had last seen her beloved daughter, she reached out her arms for an embrace. But they were empty. The alarmed woman made haste to seek all about the hiding place, in the vain hope that the girl had gone to look about them. But no trace of her child could be found—no footprint in the soft earth, no portion of her clothing.

When this became real to the seeker, her heart was crushed with fear. “Alas!” she cried, “in rescuing my beloved one from the bird I have lost her unto myself!”

Thereupon, with grief so heavy that she was many days in journeying the distance over which [ 49 ] they two had sped so swiftly, she returned to her own home, went into mourning for the daughter whom she believed dead, and awaited whatever might be ordered unto herself.

Now let us return to the girl.

During the long nights that followed she slept not, but kept her dreary watch beside the bier. In some mysterious manner, fresh food appeared every morning upon a golden salver, and whatever remained from the previous day was spirited away. Although the girl endeavored to discover this change, she was unable to do so.

At first, by means of a bit of charred wood which she found upon the floor, she kept the strictest account of the days as they passed. With this she made a mark upon the marble for each day. But as they wore by she forgot to number them. Dreary monotony made her spiritless.

Now, in front of the palace flowed the sea. One window of the room was directly over that portion of the castle walls which were washed by the waves. Long before sunrise, one morning, as the maiden sat beside this window, looking out with heavy eyes, a ship appeared. It came from the direction of Iram. When it was directly before the palace the girl made a sign with her hand. The captain lowered [ 50 ] a boat which came to the walls of the palace.

The air was very still, and the voice of the young girl, though not loud, was clear. “Bring me a beautiful slave girl,” she said, “and I will give you these ten thousand piasters.”

The boat returned to the ship. Very soon it came back. In it was another person. The watcher saw that it was a young girl, like herself. Overjoyed, she let down a rope, made from the silken coverings of the divan. At the end of this rope she had fastened the money.

When the men had secured the gold they tied the rope about the body of the slave girl, and with great difficulty she was drawn up far enough to enable her to climb within. Her young mistress greeted her with kindness, and, because of her joy, took the string of gold coins from her own neck and fastened them around the neck of the newcomer. And she said, “Thanks be to Allah! I have found a companion.”

The slave girl had been cruelly treated by the captain of the ship. But she did not tell her mistress that she was glad to be rescued.

Now, the fortieth night was completed, though the young girl knew not that it was so. After she and the slave had both bathed in an inner chamber, [ 51 ] and after they had eaten of the delicate food upon the golden salver, the mistress said to her slave: “Now, do thou watch here a little, while I go to walk through the rooms of the palace. After my return thou canst do likewise.”

Thereupon she went out; and had barely gone when the body upon the bier returned to life. It was that of a young man, very tall and worthy to be looked upon. He threw off the covering, and disclosed the embroidered garments of royalty. He stretched out his hands and opened his eyes. They fell upon the slave girl. After his long torpor she seemed beautiful to him. And the gold coins about her neck were not such as one sees upon a slave.

“Maiden,” he asked, “was it thou who watched beside me through the forty nights?”

“Yes,” answered the slave; “for forty nights have I watched beside thee.”

Now, it so chanced that the person who had been lying upon the bier was a young prince. And before the evil spell was cast upon him by an enemy of his father, he had made a vow, saying, “Whoso watches by me during the forty days of my enchantment, her will I marry immediately upon waking.”

It was because of this vow that he asked the question. And because within his heart he had felt [ 52 ] another presence, he called the slave to him and asked whether any other beside herself had been there.

The slave was very quick-witted. She was scheming and wicked of heart. In a moment she knew all that the question might mean to her. Forgetting the kindness of her young mistress in redeeming her from the cruel captain and in making of her a beloved companion, rather than a slave, she quickly made this answer:

“There is my slave girl, whom I bought with much money. Only these gold pieces about my neck have I saved. She is now in another room.”

Then the prince took her by the hand and said, “Before Allah do I take thee for my wife.” And he kissed her upon the cheek.

As these words were spoken there came the sound of light footsteps. The young mistress entered.

“Come, girl!” arrogantly called the slave. “Thy master, my husband, hath wakened. He calleth for thy service. Hasten to do his bidding!”

The gentle maiden saw that matters were not as they had been when she began her promenade through the great rooms. But, being obedient of heart, she said to herself: “This, too, comes from Allah. It must be borne patiently.”

At the first opportunity she made haste to count [ 53 ] the marks upon the marble which she had made every day with the bit of charcoal. They numbered forty. Then she felt that there was no hope for her, and meekly put herself in the place of her own slave, doing every service that was required of her. The real slave was bitterly cruel, and asked the most menial offices of this beautiful girl, although upon the full awakening of the prince the palace had become filled with the usual number of servants.

A little time later on the prince said to the one whom he had taken for his wife: “I am going on a long journey. What is thy wish that I bring thee?”

“Bring me a hundred diamonds and one hundred turquoises,” said the woman.

Then the prince turned to her whom his wife called slave. “And what wouldst thou have, my child?” he asked.

“If it be thy gracious pleasure,” came the low answer, “I would beg thee to bring me a patience stone.”

“A patience stone!” sneered the other. “The prince will never remember that.”

Then the young girl turned to the slave mistress. “Should he permit himself to forget this simple request of one who serves you both faithfully,” was her answer, “may a cloud, black as pitch, form in [ 54 ] front of his ship, so that the way of return cannot be seen. And behind them may the sky remain clear!”

The prince was not a little surprised at all this. He had taken note of the perfect manner of the one whom his wife called slave, and had compared the two. But, without comment, he made his adieus and set forth upon his journey toward Yemen.

After his arrival there months passed, while he attended to matters of state. When the time came that he could return, he purchased all that his wife had ordered. So many things had occurred that it was not strange that he should forget the servant’s commission.

While the ship was upon her homeward journey, suddenly it became dark as pitch before the vessel, while behind it the skies were quite clear. This made it impossible to navigate the ship. Fear came upon everyone.

Thereupon the captain summoned all who were on board. “If there be anyone among you,” he said, solemnly, “who has forgotten a promise or forgotten a vow, let him stand forth!”

When the prince heard this command, he remembered the commission of his wife’s servant and her low-spoken prediction, when the scornful words had [ 55 ] been uttered. He believed that the danger had come upon them because of those words.

To the great surprise of all, their prince stepped forward. “I am the one in fault,” he said. “This evil has come upon us because I have broken a promise made to a slave. Turn the ship about. Let us return to port, while I fulfill that which became a duty as soon as I had given my word.”

Immediately upon the ship’s turning, the cloud began to follow them. Soon they were back at Yemen, where the prince made haste to purchase the patience stone. Afterward, by the grace of Allah (the Just One) the ship flew so fast on its homeward voyage that it seemed like a bird, and the palace was reached in an incredibly short space of time.

When the prince entered the palace, his wife, followed by her servant, came down the broad staircase to meet him. Afterward they escorted him up the stairs and into the pleasantest room of the castle. The wife asked eagerly for the precious gems, and was wild with delight when they were spread before her.

“Come, hither, slave!” she commanded, “and deck thy mistress in a manner fitting to her station!”

The young girl obeyed without a murmur, although her heart was very sore. When the task [ 56 ] was finished, and the vain and wicked one sat before a polished steel mirror admiring herself, the seeming slave turned to the prince.

“My gracious master,” she said, very gently, “is it permitted me to ask if thou rememberedst my humble request?”

The prince then delivered the stone, which was received with becoming gratitude. “May Allah bless thee!” were her words.

Now, the only room in the entire palace which was at all mean had been given to her, and everything that could add to her comfort had been removed by command of her mistress. When the night came on she went to this room and sat down to deliberate.

Grief at the loss of her mother tore her heart. The injustice of her own slave was more than she could endure longer. It seemed as if Allah, in whom she had hoped, must have forgotten her. Tears fell from her beautiful eyes and sighs shook her frame. Long she sat there after the hour for retiring.

When the palace became still and the prince was in his bed, he bethought him of his wife’s supposed slave and wondered what she would do with the patience stone. There was a mystery about her which he fain would solve. More than once had he checked his wife in her heavy demands upon the [ 57 ] frail young girl; more than once had he been stirred with the thought that she and not the one he had married should be the princess. So, after his wife had fallen asleep, he arose lightly and went to the door of the servant’s room, taking with him his faithful Ahmed to bear witness to what he should discover.

The gift, that had been brought her, was about the size of a pea. As the prince came to the door he saw the young girl wash the stone with her tears. Afterward she placed it upon the broken table before her and thus addressed it:

“Ai, patience stone! I was my mother’s only and precious child. One day, as I, innocent and happy in her affection, sat in my room weaving the lace that she had taught me to make, a bird came through the window and spoke to me, saying: ‘During forty days shalt thou keep watch beside a corpse. But upon the morning of the fortieth day it shall happen to thee according to thy strongest desire.’

“The bird appeared to me three days and uttered the same message. Upon the third day my mother, concealed within a closet, heard all that was said. She, as well as I, was terrified. She determined to save me by flight. But, while we slept, some mysterious power took me from her side and placed me in this palace. [ 58 ]

“I have not seen my mother since, and do not know whether she is dead from the grief of our separation. As for myself, during forty days and nights I watched beside the bier of this prince who is now my master. Hadst thou been in my place, O stone! couldst thou have been utterly patient?”

As she thus spoke, the patience stone began to swell with sympathy. As it did so, it whispered, “Bravo! bravo!”

“With the first streak of light upon the fortieth morning,” continued the speaker, “a ship passed the palace. Loneliness was heavy upon me. I signaled it and asked that I might buy a slave girl. For her I offered ten thousand piasters of the money my mother had put upon me.

“They sent me this slave who is now my mistress. I received her gladly. I kissed her and put my own gold coins about her neck. I was kind to her and felt that it was good to have companionship other than a stiff and silent corpse.

“When the morning had fully dawned I, being restless, left my slave to watch for a little while beside the bier while I wandered through the beautiful rooms of the palace.

“Scarcely had I left his presence, when the spell was broken and the noble prince was restored to life. I returned to find that he had made my slave his [ 59 ] princess. Immediately upon my return this false princess spoke roughly to me, calling out that I was her slave.

“Since then she has required bitter things of me. Often in the absence of the prince she beats me. Now she threatens my life. O, thou wise stone, couldst thou have had patience to endure all this?”

When this pitiful question was sobbed forth, the patience stone cried “Bravo!” once again, then it burst into a thousand pieces.

“O, patience stone,” cried the girl, “if thou couldst not bear this that has been put upon me, how can I longer do so? Let me rather hang myself, before my cruel slave mistress tortures me to death.”

Thereupon she took her sash, wound it about her throat, stepped upon a wretched stool, and threw the other end of the sash over a beam in the roof. She was upon the point of being strangled when the prince and his faithful Ahmed broke into the room, caught her in their arms, and brought her to the floor.

“Ah, my sultana!” said the prince, very tenderly, “so it was thou who watched beside me during those bitter days! Why hast thou kept this long silence?”

“Because I believed in Allah,” was the reply. [ 60 ] “If he so willed my life, I must not try to change it But I was unable longer to bear it.”

“Henceforth art thou my beloved,” said the prince. And he kissed her three times upon the forehead. “This other, who won thy place through falsehood, shall receive her just deserts.”

He then conducted the real sultana from the wretched room into a most beautiful chamber, seated her upon a divan rich with cloth of gold, then commanded very tenderly—for his heart was touched with her suffering, “Remain here, my beloved, until I return to thee.”

He then went to the bedside of the false one, struck her with his stick, and called fiercely: “Haste thee! Arise to receive thy just punishment for the evil which thou hast brought upon thy innocent mistress.”

The slave fell upon her face before him and besought his pardon. But he would not listen. “Wilt thou have forty blows or shall forty crows be summoned to bear thee out into the night?” he demanded.

“O!” cried she, “let the forty blows fall upon the heads of my enemies! I ask that forty crows come. Perchance they will bear me back to my home.”

Thereupon, at the prince’s command, slaves brought a basket, lifted and placed her within it, [ 61 ] then opened a window overlooking the sea. Forty giant crows came, seized upon the basket with their beaks, and flew so far away that neither the prince nor his beautiful sultana ever heard of her again.

Then the young girl, who had been rescued from death by the prince, begged that messengers be sent to relate her good fortune to her mother—if haply she were yet alive—and that a camel might also be taken to fetch her to their marriage feast.

This request was readily granted. And the mother, who had mourned her daughter as dead, came hastily and with joy to greet her again. The wedding feast lasted forty days and forty nights. Throughout it all everything happened according to the wish of the kind and beautiful girl. Salaam! [ 62 ]

The narrator of tales relates that, once upon a time, there lived a man and his wife who were so poor that they had no home. So the woman begged of her husband to seek a place for her in the bamam, or bath house. Now, the bamam was a large building, with many rooms. When the bamamjy, or keeper, had listened to the tale of the poor man he answered: “There will be room for your wife to-morrow. Let her come then.”

The husband returned with joy, and, on the morrow, accompanied his wife to the bamam, where the keeper made her quite welcome. In a few days there was born to the poor woman a little girl child, who was like a ray of light for beauty and sweetness. As the mother sat gazing upon her child, the wall of the bamam opened and three dervishes made their appearance. Gifts were in their hands of those things that would add to the woman’s comfort. [ 63 ]

The first dervish approached with a great roll of very soft clothing. “Thou shalt name this child,” said the dervish, “The Beautiful One Who Does Not Obtain Her Desire.” Thereupon he withdrew, and the second dervish came near, with a gift of sweet perfumes and ointments, and said: “Whenever water shall touch the crown of this child’s head, it shall turn into pieces of gold and roll to the ground. Roses shall fall from about her cheeks whenever she laughs; and if, unhappily, she shall weep, the tears will become pearls. When she is grown strong enough to walk upon the earth, green grass shall spring up in her footsteps.”

Having spoken thus, the second dervish disappeared. The third then drew near. His present consisted of a bracelet of gold. “Let this,” said the third dervish, “be fastened about her arm. And if thou wouldst keep thy child alive, then must thou guard well this amulet; for as long as it remains upon her arm she shall live, but when once it is removed, then death shall claim her.” Thus saying, the third dervish disappeared, as had the others, and the walls of the bamam became as if they had not been opened.

When the mother had recovered from her astonishment, she fastened the amulet upon the infant’s arm; after which she began to bathe the little one. [ 64 ] All went as is usual, until she poured water from the basin upon the child’s head, when, as the second dervish had predicted, the water turned into gold pieces and fell to the ground in a shower.

The mother gathered the money and hid it; after which she made haste to dress her child. When the little one had fallen asleep she called the keeper of the bamam, and, giving him a handful of the coins, bade him send for her husband. The keeper was surprised at receiving such an amount from one who had seemed so poor, but, being a wise man, he asked no questions and did as he had been requested.

When the husband came he greeted his wife and their newborn beautiful infant; after which his wife told him of the visit from the three dervishes and the wonderful things they had each foretold. The poor man was nearly beside himself for joy that now he would be able fitly to provide for his beloved little family. Tenderly he lifted the child in his arms, and together they two set out to seek an abiding place.

They ordered a fine large house built and completely furnished. Back of the house they caused a beautiful garden to be planted. In the middle of this garden the fortunate parents ordered a kiosk builded; and when it was finished they called the goldsmith and bade him cover it with gold. This [ 65 ] he did; and when the work was completed, its beauty could not be described, it was so great. Thus did these happy parents prepare a worthy place for the child whose coming had brought them such great and good fortune.

The kiosk was made the immediate dwelling place of the little one, who was guarded most tenderly. And, as the years went by, it continued unto them as the second dervish had said; until they grew to possess such wealth that they lost all idea of its value.

Time came and went until fifteen years had passed; and never in all the world had there been so beautiful a blue-eyed, golden-haired, rosy-cheeked damsel. To one who looked at her, it was as if a sun had arisen.

We will now leave these people and go far away, unto the son of the king at Yemen.

It must have been that Allah intended the beautiful girl to be the wife of the young prince; for, one night, a dream was sent to him in which she appeared. He was told her name, her father’s name, and the exact country in which was her dwelling. So very real was her presence and so clear the picture of her home that, upon waking, his heart was torn with sorrow that it was only a dream. He [ 66 ] called for a piece of parchment and made a chart of the way through which they must pass who should go to bring her unto him.

When the morning dawned, the young prince went directly to his queen mother and, coming to speech, said: “My honored mother, may Allah give happiness unto you! Last night, whether sleeping or waking, I know not, but a marvelous vision passed before my eyes. I am so haunted with the memory of it that life will be unto me as nothing, if thou do not realize my vision unto me.”

To which the queen made reply: “What is this that thou askest of me, O, my son! Well thou knowest that my heart is as thine, when the happiness of my child is concerned. Speak! Relate unto me the vision. Then ask what thou wilt, and, if Allah forbid not, it shall be done for thee.”

“O, mother!” the young man responded, “in a certain garden is a kiosk. It is covered with beaten gold. But, beautiful as is the casket, much more beautiful is the treasure for which it was created. The kiosk have I seen; and the way unto it so plainly was shown to me, that I have here a chart of that way—even of the waters, which lead unto it.”

“And what does the casket contain that can be worthy of such magnificence, and worthy thus to disturb the peace of my son?” [ 67 ]

“Within this kiosk, O, my mother, there dwelleth a maiden who is innocent, gracious, pure, and altogether charming. So innocent is she that, at her smile, roses form beside her cheeks and fall about her; so gracious is she that when water is poured upon her head, it turns into golden coins, with which can be done beneficent things; so pure is she that when, perchance through grief at another’s woe, she may be caused to weep, the tears change to pearls as they fall to the ground; and so charming is her presence that, wherever she may walk—even upon the most barren earth—soft grasses spring up to kiss her feet.”

When he had spoken thus the queen replied: “It is well, O, my son, that thy beginning is as one who telleth a dream. For this that thou relatest to me is an impossible thing. There is no golden kiosk; there can be no maiden with this remarkable power.”

Then was the young man grieved as he answered: “And is it thus that my mother turns aside that which concerns my life or my death? Since thou wilt not believe me, then inquire of others. If it be false unto them all, then let it be false unto thee!”

The love which this mother felt for her son and her grief at his sorrow, caused her to send for the public criers—who are, also, the newsmongers of [ 68 ] that country. As these passed before the queen, the prince caused that each one should be questioned as to whether, in all the countries he knew, there were such a garden in which dwelt so good and charming a maiden.

Each crier was astonished at so strange a question, until one came who knew of the garden, the golden kiosk, and the charming maiden. Prostrating himself before the royal personages, he made this answer: “True it is, O prince, that there is such a place and that such a being really exists. The outside of the garden do I know well. But the walls are high and difficult to scale. One day, however, when I was without, the gates were opened to permit the entrance of a visitor; and the maiden of whom thou speakest walked before the golden kiosk that stands beside a fountain in the middle of the garden. And, between the opening and the closing of the gate, it was permitted that I should witness the wonders of which thou questionest.”

Neither the prince nor his mother had further doubts concerning the truth of the vision.

“Honored mother!” the prince entreated, “if thou really dost love me as thou sayest, then permit me to beg that, with thy slaves and guard, thou shouldst embark upon the morrow and seek out this maiden. If these things be really true of her, and if she be [ 69 ] willing, engage her to me and cause that she return with thee.”

Upon the morrow the mother set out to fulfill the request of her son. The way was long, and several months passed before the ship reached the far-distant country. After disembarking she, with her attendants, entered the city and asked the way. It was pointed out to them. They went to the house and knocked at the door. It was opened, and they were permitted to enter.

The queen was invited into the garden, where, very often, the guests were received. Here her eyes discovered the golden kiosk. She, also, was so fortunate as to find the parents, together with their daughter, whom she was seeking.

After sitting down, they all conversed courteously; and the visitor was more than delighted with the presence and manner of the young girl. But her real object was to test the truth of those qualities which were ascribed to her. Accordingly she said, “Verily, my child, it will trouble you greatly, but I am wearied with my long journey and would be gratified if you would bring a glass of water, with which to quench my thirst.”

Then the maiden graciously arose and hastened to bring water unto this guest from a far country. And everywhere that her light feet touched the earth, [ 70 ] soft grass sprang up. This caused astonishment and delight in the mind of the queen, who took the cup when it was presented to her and, as the young hostess made obeisance in its presentation, contrived to spill a few drops of the water upon the beautiful bowed head.

The drops immediately rolled off as gold pieces. At this the queen—as if in a paroxysm of weariness—caught the girl by the wrist and held so tightly that her nails entered the soft flesh. Although no cry came from the sweet lips, tears were forced to form in her eyes. These tears afterward dropped upon the ground in exquisite pearls.

Then the visitor seemed to recover herself and related a story of her adventures while on the way thither. The tale was so amusing that the young girl began to smile. At which instant a rose appeared near each exquisite cheek and dropped upon the rug on which the visitor sat.

There was now no longer any doubt in the mind of the queen. The object of her journey had been gained. She therefore discovered her rank to the parents; after which she said to them: “Verily, we have heard of the beautiful qualities of this, your daughter. By the will of Allah, and according to the law of the Prophet, I would marry her unto my son, the prince. What is your will concerning this?” [ 71 ]

Then were the parents greatly astonished and pleased. The mother, coming to speech, made this reply: “O, my queen! we will not refuse our daughter to such as you. Your orders are upon our heads. And may Allah graciously give his blessing!”

Then the queen engaged the daughter unto her son; after which she gave direction, saying: “With the half of my slaves and the half of my guard will I now return. With those that remain do you conduct your daughter, with all speed, to our palace. Verily, we shall make haste with the preparations for the wedding and the festivities.”

Thereupon the lady queen arose, embraced the maiden most tenderly, made her adieus, and, taking the half of her slaves and of her guard, began her homeward journey. When, after many days, she reached the palace, the prince came to welcome her and to ask, eagerly, concerning the result of her quest.

“Most happy am I to answer thee, O, my son!” was the glad reply. “Verily, it is according to that which the vision revealed unto thee. There liveth such a maiden as thou hast believed in, and all those bright qualities belong unto her. One who sees her desires to look again—of such beauty is she possessed. I have been so fortunate as to engage her unto thee. She will come to thee presently.” [ 72 ]

When the prince learned this, great fear lest evil should befall her whom his soul desired came upon him. His mind became filled with sadness; his hands and feet began to tremble. He bent to kiss his mother’s hand, after which he sat down and was lost in meditation. As preparations for the wedding began, he could look only with grave and longing eyes along the road over which his betrothed was to come.

Let these remain here, while we return to the other place in the story.

Heavy silken garments were prepared, with all skill, for the maiden who had been engaged to the prince. They were bound into a great package. All things necessary for the journey were made ready, when the mother—wishing to make certain changes in her own wardrobe—called the woman who had been nurse to her daughter and said unto her: “Verily, I give into your care a most precious charge. Take my daughter—whom before this I have intrusted to you—watch over her most carefully, and with these slaves and guard, conduct her safely to Yemen, to the palace of the king. After a few days her father and I will follow, with all speed.”

Thereupon the nurse asked permission that her [ 73 ] own daughter might accompany them, as the way was long, the distance very great and her heart would be sore at the parting. Permission was granted, and the little company embarked.

At evening, when the bride-to-be asked for food, the nurse made answer: “Fearing that harm might come to thee from eating of the ship’s rations, I prepared such food as is best for one who journeys, for the first time, upon the sea.” So saying, she cut off some slices of salted sausage, which she had prepared especially for an evil purpose, and gave them to the girl.

In about half an hour the maiden became very thirsty. “O, mother,” she asked of the nurse, “give me some water, I pray!”

To this the woman made reply: “It is not well that you should have water now.” And, although the same request was spoken frequently, no water was permitted to come near the maiden.

As the night wore on, her thirst became more violent; until, at last, she was maddened with it and cried: “Give me water or let me die!”

Then the evil woman said: “My girl, if you will let me take out one of your eyes, you shall have water; but, otherwise, you shall have none.”

To which, after this cruel reply had been repeated many times, the sufferer made answer: “It is possible [ 74 ] to live with only one eye; but impossible to live without water. Take thy desire and give unto me mine!”

The woman, overjoyed, made haste to remove one of the eyes; after which she permitted her charge a slight draught of water. But this could not long appease such thirst as had been created by the salted sausage. Again the poor girl moaned: “Verily, mother, I am thirsty!” To which was made no answer.

As the hours wore on and the suffering grew past all endurance, the woman said again: “Verily, girl, if you will give me the other eye, I will give you as much water as you can wish.”

What could the poor girl do? Beside herself with thirst and maddened with pain, she hesitated but a little; then, losing all self-control, sobbed: “Alas! what evil is come upon me! I am powerless in your hands. Do unto me whatever you will, only permit me to quench this thirst, which devours my throat and causes my tongue to swell.”

The woman, delighting in evil, removed the other eye, and, afterward, gave all the water desired by the sufferer. It was swallowed eagerly; but, alas! although her thirst was assuaged, she had been made blind!

Now, all this happened while the slaves and the [ 75 ] guard were in another part of the ship, and only the wicked nurse and her daughter were near to her who was to become bride to the young prince.

As the ship neared land, the nurse removed the bridal clothing from her charge and put it upon her own daughter, whose face she covered with a veil. The clothes of her own girl were then put upon the maiden and her face was covered, as before.

Upon landing, the nurse said to the others: “Do you remain here for a little, while I conduct my daughter to the house of a relative, where she will stay until my return.”

She then led the maiden without the city and left her alone, upon a mountain. After that, she wrote a letter to the parents of the maiden and gave it to the master of the port, with the command that he should find, upon the next incoming ship, the persons to whom it was addressed and deliver it to them. The letter read as follows:

“Do not continue your journey. Your daughter died upon the way to this port. She was buried in the deep sea. As for me, my grief is so great that I shall never return.”

Having done this, she hastened to rejoin those whom she had left; and the little company proceeded upon its journey to the palace. The nurse’s daughter guarded the secret well, so that no one dreamed [ 76 ] of the sad thing that had happened. With all speed they pressed upon their way, and were soon met by the people of the palace, who conducted the woman and her daughter into the presence of the queen.

Now, the lady queen, after greeting the girl—who was brought to her in most splendid attire—regarded her attentively and said to herself: “This is not the one who so charmed me in the quiet garden. There is something wrong. Let us see unto what the end will bring us.”

With this seeming discovery she sat down to meditate; while the girl, who desired to become a princess, was led to her own room, and everyone about the palace made haste with preparations for the wedding.

That evening they married the nurse’s daughter to the prince. And all of the guests drank a royal drink from cups that were brilliant with gems. Afterward, the prince said to her who had become his bride, “I wonder greatly that, with all these festivities, not once have you smiled.”

Then, although she smiled at his word—which was a command, coming as it did from a prince—there occurred nothing at all unusual. Neither roses nor the fragrance of roses filled the air about her cheeks. [ 77 ]

At this the prince, beginning to doubt, said to himself, “Most wonderful things have been told me concerning the maiden who was to become my princess; not one of which has manifested itself since the coming of this person.” After reflecting thus, he determined to speak of that which disturbed his mind.

“My princess,” he said, very gently, “it was related to me that when you laughed, roses formed near your cheeks. But nothing of that kind came to pass with your laughter just now. What is the meaning of this?”

“My lord,” was the careful answer, “that which has been told you is true; but it only happens once during each year.”

Thus were the questionings of the prince quieted for a little.

When it was morning and the princess was led to the bath, the queen mother came to accompany her. While one of the slaves washed the face of the girl, the mother approached with a cup of water. “Permit me, my child,” said she, and straightway poured the contents of the cup upon the girl’s head. Not a gold piece made its appearance.

At this, although she uttered not a word, the queen’s suspicions were strengthened. However, taking the girl’s hand, she led her from the bath [ 78 ] and together they hastened to the palace, where the one who had been made princess sat down quietly, by herself.

Let these people stay here while we return to the helpless one, who had been deserted upon the mountain.

Her poor blind eyes could not cease their weeping until, as the result of her tears, a wall of pearls, as high as a man, piled itself before her. A muleteer, who was coming from the other side of the mountain, followed his path until it led him near to the suffering one. He was lost in astonishment and pity at what he saw. When he could recover himself, he approached the maiden and said: “Ai, my girl, what fate has brought you to this plight?”

“Ai, baba” (which, being interpreted, means “father”), “do not ask me! Providence has ordained it. I must be patient.”

Thereupon the muleteer, by her direction, gathered up the pearls and put them into the donkey’s panniers; after which he took the blind girl by the hand and led her to his own home. “Wife,” said he, “take good care of this poor maiden, whom I found in great distress. Let no more harm come to her!”

The wife noted the extraordinary beauty of the [ 79 ] stranger and was deeply touched at her suffering. She led her into an inner chamber and cared for her as if she had been their own child. After a time, when these people gently questioned her, the poor girl related her story from beginning to end.

“Alas! what a pity!” they both exclaimed.

And their sympathy was so sweet to her that, lifting her face toward them, a sweet smile passed over it. At this, roses bloomed near her cheeks.

The muleteer and his wife were speechless with astonishment. But she, taking the roses in her hands, held them toward the old man. “Kind baba, if you would try to help me out of this sorrow, take these roses, lay them in a basket, and, calling aloud that you are selling roses out of season, go past the palace of him who should be my husband. Should you be asked how great is your price for them, you must say that you do not sell for money, but that you will give each handful of roses, only, in exchange for an eye.”

“So be it, my poor child,” answered the kind old man. “With the morning I shall do as you request.”

Accordingly, upon the morrow, the muleteer, with the roses in a basket upon his shoulder, set out upon his journey. As he neared the palace he began to cry: “Roses! roses out of season! I am selling roses that are out of season!” [ 80 ]

The false one heard the cry and said to her mother: “There is a man with roses. Let us buy some that I may give them to the prince. I will tell him that they grew in my cheeks this morning. Perchance I shall find more favor in his sight.”

Those two—with the evil hearts—ran quickly to the door of the palace and summoned the muleteer as he was passing. When he heard the voices he turned. They motioned him to come. He approached, and let down the basket from his shoulder.

As the beautiful flowers caught the eyes of the girl she asked eagerly, “Well, gardener, for how much will you sell the roses?”

To which came the answer, as directed: “For money will I not part with them. Only for an eye will I exchange each handful.”

The mother and daughter looked at each other. “Do not fear,” said the mother, in a low voice, “he cannot know.”

“Very well, mother,” replied the daughter, in a whisper, “although you did not know it, I placed the eyes of the one whom we destroyed in her box. Do you detain him while I hasten to bring them. The prince must have roses to-day!”

So saying, she hastened and speedily brought the eyes, gave them to the supposed gardener, and received the exquisite roses in return. [ 81 ]

The muleteer delivered the roses, and, without tarrying, hastened home, where, with his wife, he almost ran to the room of their adopted daughter. “Rejoice, thou wronged one!” cried they both. “Thy sight will be restored.”

The maiden was overjoyed at this. She arose and, taking pure water, performed ablutions; after which she prostrated herself twice, to obtain the favor of Allah. Then, raising her hands, she prayed.

Allah was gracious. The prayer was heard. The blind girl reached forth her hands and the muleteer let them touch the box in which were the precious things. She took first one, then the other, and replaced it. At that very instant, by the will of Allah, sight returned unto her and she looked out upon his earth. So kind was he that her eyes were better, even, than before. Thereupon, with joyful heart, she returned thanks unto him; after which she prayed.

Some time passed, and whenever the maiden laughed, roses bloomed about her cheeks; wherever she walked, soft grass sprang up joyfully; and whenever she bathed, great coins of gold ran down off her head. She grieved at the loss of her own mother, but patiently waited the will of Allah. Meanwhile, the kind-hearted muleteer seemed to her like a father, and she grew very fond of the old couple. As for [ 82 ] those who were sheltering her, they became so rich, through the presence of this maiden, that they built a great house and filled it with servants, both men and women. And in this house, the most beautiful apartment of all was set apart for the young girl whose coming had so enriched them.

But, as the days went by, the maiden grew sad and made of the baba a strange request. “Father,” she said, “I would have you build me a tomb, made all of shim-shirak stone. Within there shall be a golden casket. And the doors of the tomb shall be wrought so marvelously that they shall speak. Once every hour they must open; and as they turn in each direction, they must say, again and again, ‘ The beautiful one who did not have her desire! ’ ”

Then was the muleteer sad of heart. “My daughter,” he answered, “let the tomb be as you desire. If Allah wills, it shall be builded with his blessing.”

Still heavy of heart, he arose and went to the top of the mountain, where, at great cost, he caused such a tomb to be made as had been described. It was all of shim-shirak stone, and within was a golden casket. Also the doors opened of themselves and repeated the words that had been commanded.

After having finished the tomb, the old man found [ 83 ] it so perfect that he stayed for a long time to admire. Then he went home and said to his foster daughter: “Behold! I have made the tomb as you requested. I beg that you will be sad no longer.”

Let us leave these three persons here, while we return to the intruders in the palace.

As soon as the wicked daughter of the wicked woman had secured the roses from the supposed gardener, she arrayed herself in the most beautiful of the robes which had been stolen from the other, and, taking the roses in her hands, carried them to the prince.

Now, the roses were marvelously beautiful, and their fragrance was something passing sweet. When, therefore, the prince had received them, he laid them against his face, and it seemed as if he could never have enough of them. When she who had brought them saw this, it began to appear to her whence these flowers had come; and, as the prince was so enamored of their sweetness as to forget her very presence, anger and fear began to stir her breast. All the night through, she lay and pondered upon the roses, the strange price, and the rapture of the young prince.

When morning dawned she hastened to her mother with the startling announcement: “Mother, [ 84 ] most surely the girl, whom we have supposed dead, is yet alive. She is not far away. At any moment she may overthrow our plans. Hasten! Let us send a witch to find her, and, after that, to remove the amulet from her arm. Then, surely, must she die.”

Throughout the night the mother had been troubled in like manner, and of herself had resolved that something must be brought about to prevent their undoing. Therefore she was quite ready to accept the advice of her daughter, and ordered a slave to conduct her to the tent of a witch, to whom she told a false story and ended with the order her daughter had suggested.

Now, the witch, as well, was evil-minded. She listened carefully and promised to accomplish the difficult task, for the great sum of money which was offered her. When the woman had gone from the tent, she made incantations. Afterward she set out, and did not pause until the very door of the muleteer’s house was reached. It opened at her knock, and she was led upstairs, into the room where the muleteer, his wife, and their foster daughter received their guests. Here she was graciously admitted and bidden to sit down.

After a little while it became evening, whereupon the witch said: “Ai! mother, I have journeyed a [ 85 ] long way. It is now late. I am afraid to continue my journey at night. Indeed, the very reason of my call was to ask you if you would permit me to pass the night under your roof.”

The muleteer’s wife was not pleased with this. She had not been pleased with the presence of the witch. Still, it is incumbent upon the faithful to be hospitable. Accordingly, she answered: “Very well, mother. Here is a room. Enter it and lie down in peace! But first wait until the evening meal is prepared. We would have you partake of it with us.”

Very greatly was the witch pleased with this. She watched stealthily, to learn which was the maiden’s room, and, after that, went to her own and lay down. Soon, all the household were in their beds and asleep. When midnight came, the witch arose and stole to the maiden’s door, entered it, and went directly to the bed upon which the young creature lay in a sound, sweet sleep. Creeping closely to the bedside, she unclasped the gold band from the girl’s arm, then hastened to her own room, put on her cloak and sandals, and left the house.

From thence she hastened to the palace, and in the very early morning delivered up the stolen jewel to the mother of the false princess. It was received with great rejoicing by both of the evil plotters. [ 86 ] They permitted themselves to be happy again, now that they felt assured of the death of her whom they had feared.

Let these remain quiet while we turn to the muleteer’s wife.

When morning came she arose and, with misgiving, went to the room which had been given to their weird visitor. It was as she feared. The room was empty. Then, hoping against fear, she looked to see if the woman’s cloak could be found. That, too, had disappeared. Thus was her fear confirmed and her perplexity increased. She then went to seek her foster daughter; but, finding her asleep, would not waken her, and returned to her own room.

The hours dragged by. It was near noon, and the maiden, an early riser, had not appeared. The foster mother began speaking to herself: “This child, whom Allah graciously sent to us, used always to arise very early. Now, to-day—when the person to whom we gave food and shelter has acted so as to perplex my soul—does this daughter delay her daily coming to me. I will go and awaken her.”

Accordingly, filled with vague alarm, she hastened to the door and called with tender voice, “O, my daughter, why do you sleep so long?”

No answer came to her words. Again she called, [ 87 ] and again listened in vain. Not the slightest sound greeted her anxious ear. She entered the door, approached the bed, and leaned over the unconscious figure. But, leaning and listening, she found that not the faintest breath passed those quiet lips. In desperate haste she clasped the cold hands and began to chafe the delicate feet. Alas! they were like ice.

Then, indeed, did the heart of the muleteer’s wife become sore. She threw herself upon the floor, began beating her head against it, and, as she did so, she mourned: “Ai! my girl, my girl is dead! Henceforth shall the world be accursed unto me!”

Her husband heard the cry. He hastened to her and begged to know the cause of such grief. Whereupon she answered: “Ai, my lord, our girl, whom we love and whom we had taught to love us, is dead. Alone, in the night, did she die. I cannot contain myself for grief!”

When the muleteer heard this, and after he had assured himself of its truth, tears, like rain, began to flow from his eyes. Then the whole household came to join in mourning the death of the beautiful girl.

After a time, when they could restrain their grief, they prepared her body and laid it in the tomb which she, with sad prophecy, had caused to be [ 88 ] builded. This done, these good people did not mend their grief, but continued to mourn the gracious presence which had been lent to them for a little while.

Let us leave them now, and return to the plotting mother in the prince’s palace.

When this evil-minded person learned, through inquiries which she cautiously set on foot, that the one whom she had wronged was dead, it became unto her as if all the world were her own. And, without seeming to realize that Allah knew of the evil which she had committed, she even dared attribute her fortune to him! “O, praise be to Allah!” she cried. “ At last we are freed from fear!”

Later on, the prince heard—through some visitors at the court—such part of the dead maiden’s history as was known to the world: that about such a time she had been found in great distress by the muleteer, whose kind heart had prompted him to take her to his own home, where she had become as a daughter in the house. And that immediately upon her coming, the Fates had blessed the old man and his wife, until they had houses and lands, men and women servants. But after all this had come to them, and when life seemed complete, the blackest [ 89 ] of grief had overshadowed them in the death of their adopted child.

This tale wrought deeply upon the mind of the prince. He sighed in his soul and became very sad. After that some strange fantasy possessed him. He could no longer endure the presence of the girl who had come to dwell in his palace.

One day, when his soul was more than usually sad, together with his companions, he went out to wander upon the mountains. After several days they came to the foot of one that was higher than the others in the range. It was evening. Wearied with this aimless pacing hither and thither, they sat down to rest. All at once a faint, faint voice reached the ear of the prince. And the words that it spoke were these: “The Beauty who did not have her desire! The Beauty who did not have her desire!”

Without a moment’s pause to consider whether it might not be a lure into danger, the prince, who was brave of heart, arose with his companions and hastened to the summit of the mountain. There he came upon a tomb of shim-shirak stone, so brilliant as to dazzle the eyes of a beholder. And its doors, opening of themselves, both inward and outward, were repeating softly the words that had arrested his attention. [ 90 ]

All this aroused great wonder in the minds of the prince and his companions. They questioned concerning the building of so magnificent a burial place, and whether any body had been placed therein. After a time, as was quite natural, a sad curiosity prompted the prince, himself, to enter.

Only a golden casket, with closed lid, met his gaze. Presently he approached, and, as the lid was unfastened, raised it and discovered, within, a young woman who was like the full moon for beauty; and beside her a child which reflected her brightness. The child nestled against the arm of its mother.

At this sight the prince—who had been prepared for any marvelous unfolding—became even more tender of heart. His eyes filled with tears, and he gave thanks for, at least, the preservation of the infant.

He lifted the child very tenderly, wrapped it in the snowy silken covering, and, holding it closely in his arms, rejoined his companions, who awaited him without the tomb.

They all returned directly to the palace. As they entered, the prince summoned the queen, the girl who had come to him, her mother, and gave command that the child be recognized as one of the chief members in the royal household. To the girl he said:

“You are young and strong. It is my will that [ 91 ] you devote yourself to the care of this babe. See that he does not cry, while I go outside and give orders concerning his ablutions.”

Now, the child, being strong and well grown, had freed itself from the detaining hands of the prince and slipped to the floor. After his going, it wandered, with uncertain, childish footsteps, about the room, playing with whatever object attracted its attention. In this way it went up to an open drawer in which lay the bracelet, which the witch had removed from the arm of its own mother. In a moment the bright object was in the tiny hands.

This sight caused a great shock to the girl who was tending him. She flew to recover the precious trinket; but the child would not let go of it. He tightened his hold and, opening his mouth, began to scream lustily.

The prince heard the cry. He came within and asked, angrily, why she was making the child cry. To which she made reply: “But, my lord, the babe has my bracelet. It is only because I would take it from him that he cries.”

“If it were twenty bracelets, let him play!” was the response.

But as is often the manner with children when in a strange place, this one, having once begun, would not cease his crying. Nothing would appease [ 92 ] him. It seemed as if he would cry his little heart out. Thereupon the prince took him in his arms, called his companions, and, with all speed, hastened to the tomb of shim-shirak stone.

It was the end of the hour. And the doors, opening inward and outward of themselves, were uttering the same plaintive words which had greeted his ears at the first.

The prince quickened his pace, entered the tomb, raised the lid of the golden casket and laid the child where he had found it, beside the mother. As he did this, the bracelet, of which the little fingers had not once let go, touched the white arm of the woman. At the contact her mouth began to quiver, and, from the waist downward, she became alive. Her feet grew warm and stirred.

This marvelous occurrence was most unexpected. Everything was as it had been at the finding of the child save—ah! there was the bracelet! And, as he scanned the arm more closely, the prince was convinced that it had been accustomed to the wearing of a band, the exact width of that which the child, in its grief, had brought away from the palace.

Immediately upon noting this, the prince was filled with more wonder. He felt assured that the bracelet must be an amulet from which some life-giving power emanated. He therefore took it from [ 93 ] the child’s hand—who, strange to relate, yielded it up willingly—and clasped it about the lifeless arm.

His thoughtfulness was rewarded. While he stood, breathless, a slight convulsion stirred the figure of the woman. She sneezed, and after that effort, made a slow movement and sat up in the casket.

The child clung to her with a new zeal, and she, gathering him tenderly to her bosom, turned with wide-open eyes to regard the tall young personage who stood beside her. That he was of royal birth was evidenced by his bearing. The evidence was continued in his costume. The mystery of life and death was upon her; therefore were her thoughts clear. At once she was impressed that this must be the prince of whom she had been the promised bride.

The prince, upon his part, already had been won. How much more strongly, then, was his heart drawn to her when he beheld her living, breathing, moving? He made courtly obeisance and thus addressed himself to her:

“My queen, is it permitted me to ask before whom I have the honor to stand? And whose is this child which already possesses my heart?”

To which the Beautiful One, looking first at him and then at the child, made answer:

“My prince, I left my mother at Stamboul, and, [ 94 ] with slaves and guard, in charge of my former nurse and in company with her daughter, I was coming to be your bride. Upon the way, the nurse, who had been trustworthy until then, became jealous for the advancement of her own daughter. First, she took out my eyes; then she exchanged our clothing, and, finally, left me upon a mountain, alone, to die of grief and starvation.

“But Allah heard the falling of my tears. He caused a kind old muleteer to pass that way, who, when he espied me, was moved with compassion and led me to his house, where both he and his wife received me as if I had been their own child.

“Shortly afterward I caused some roses, that had bloomed at my cheeks, to be cried before your palace; with the command that they must not be sold for gold, but that only by the exchange of an eye, for each handful, could they be obtained. The evil ones saw the roses. They would secure them as a present to your Royal Highness. Eagerness weakened their wisdom to such extent that they accepted the condition, and thereby did I recover my eyes. As I put them in place, by Allah’s grace, they became seeing.

“Finally, the roses which I sent were given to you, who received them and experienced a strange influence. At that very time a golden-winged messenger [ 95 ] appeared to me, bearing this child in his arms and saying: ‘He will be kept for you until you shall lie in your tomb. Do not fear! All will yet be well!’

“Then I caused this tomb to be builded, and, shortly after, a witch was sent by my undoers, who stole this life-keeping amulet from my arm. At that moment I died. They laid me in this tomb, where I have remained until, at your approach, the golden-winged messenger again approached and left the child beside me. I could stir neither hand nor foot. As to the child, O, prince! it is yours. It was created in Paradise, when you were holding the roses to your face.”

As this tale unfolded itself and the willing listener was convinced of its truth, he wept so bitterly at all her sufferings that the tears might have been of blood. Then, recovering himself, he clasped the narrator to his heart.

He then lifted her out of the casket, gave her his arm to lean upon, and, taking the child upon his other arm and surrounded by his attendants, conducted her to his palace.

After his queen mother had received them, and, summoning slaves, had made the mother and child comfortable in a most luxurious apartment, the prince commanded that the wicked nurse and her daughter [ 96 ] should appear before him; when he ordered the chief headsman to strike them dead.

The man gave them each so heavy a blow that their bones rattled. Their souls were dispatched to Hades and their bodies were thrown out to the dogs. Then the prince rejoiced greatly, saying: “Praise be to Allah that, at last, he has freed me from those evil vixens! Now has my head become clear again.”

Afterward, he sent fleet messengers to bring the parents of her whom they had thought dead. And he also called the kind muleteer and his wife. In the presence of all these and of his court, was he married to the Beautiful One whose light footstep caused the grass to grow upon the driest earth; whose laughter filled his life with roses, and whose tears—even tears of joy at her newly found happiness—became pearls before his eyes.

The wedding festivities extended throughout the kingdom. They continued during forty days and forty nights. The prince and his beautiful wife, and the child which had been given to them, lived happily ever afterward. With the great sums of gold which rolled from the head of the true princess whenever she performed her ablutions, the prince was able to pay great debts which the late war had entailed upon his country. Thus were his people relieved of the heavy taxes. Salaam! [ 97 ]

The narrator of tales relates that, once upon a time, there lived a king who had nine daughters. And because there was no son, he made a vow that he would condemn his wife to death if their next child were not a boy.

Time came and went until another child was born to the king. And, although this one, also, was a little girl, the queen, with the careful assistance of her faithful nurse, concealed the fact, and the child was supposed to be a boy. The king rejoiced greatly, giving thanks to Allah, because he believed that a son had come to him, who could inherit the kingdom.

But after a number of years had gone by, and the time came when the child was to be enrolled in the royal army corps, the queen knew that her deceit would be discovered. She shut herself up in her room and wept bitterly.

The child was greatly disturbed at her grief, and [ 98 ] begged to come in and comfort her. “My mother,” it said, “why do you weep so? What is there that should trouble you?”

“Ai, my child!” the queen answered, “of all who weep there is no one who has sadder cause than I. And the cause of my sorrow is this: When you were a little baby it was told the king, your father—who greatly desired a son to inherit his throne—that you were a boy. He has believed it until this day. Now he will learn the truth, and I shall lose my life.”

But the child—being very wise as well as loving—comforted her mother with these words: “Do not fear, dearest mother! I will go to my father, the king, and ask him to delay this ceremony for another year.”

The next morning, therefore, the child, weeping bitterly, went into her father’s presence and kissed his hand.

“Why do you cry, my son?” asked the father. “Tears are for girls. They should not be seen upon the face of the king’s son.”

“O! my father! I am still little. Yet you are going to make me one in the royal army. Therefore do I weep.”

“Well, well, my son,” said the king, “dry your tears! We will postpone this matter until your next birthday.” [ 99 ]

At these words the girl kissed her father’s hand gratefully and returned to her mother with rejoicing. The queen was glad, indeed. She took the child in her arms and kissed her eyes.

The year passed most swiftly, and, at its end, the mother was so racked with fear that, again, she began to cry. Upon this the child made bold to approach her father, who, for her sake, delayed the initiation for another year.

But when the third year came, the queen, knowing in her heart that there could be no hope, went to her room and gave herself up to such bitter tears that the child was not able to restrain her own. So they two wept together.

Then the mother said: “Ai, my daughter! Although your father, the king, has delayed this important ceremony for two years, I am certain that he will not defer it a third time. You are now large and well grown. There is no longer any respite for me. To-morrow I shall be put to death. This is the last day of my life.”

But the girl was determined to cheer her mother, at all cost. “Ai, honored mother!” she made answer. “If my father summons me I will beg for a half hour’s grace, when I will go to the stable, mount a swift horse, and fly away.”

“But what will become of you, my child?” [ 100 ]

“Dearest mother, do not be anxious about me. I will go to foreign lands and dwell. It will be a small sacrifice to make for your happiness.”

The next morning tents were pitched in a great open square; and when it became known that the royal ceremony was to take place, an immense crowd of people collected.

The king called for the supposed prince, and said: “My son, you are now fourteen years old. The long-postponed initiation will take place to-day.”

“Indeed, my honored father, I am now ready. Will you grant that I may first ride, on horseback, about the square, to view the people and the grand preparations? After that you will do with me according to your will.”

“Very well, my son,” answered the king. “Go! Show their prince to my people!”

The supposed prince then flew to embrace her royal mother; after which she went to the stables and selected a most beautiful coal-black steed. As she stood by the horse’s head, tears flowed down her cheeks.

At this occurred something most strange. The beautiful horse, seeing the tears of the princess, began to speak: “Ai, my sultana! Why do you cry?”

Now, the princess was surprised that, while all about supposed her to be a prince, she should be [ 101 ] addressed as sultana. However, she was too distressed to cavil at anything; so made answer:

“No one has greater cause for grief than I. Ever since my birth, my father has believed me to be a boy. Now, at the performance of this ceremony, he will be told what you already know. In that hour he will cause my mother to be put to death. I have half an hour, only, in which to escape. My father has given permission that I should ride about the square to view the people. At the end of that time, I have decided to make my escape.”

When the princess had confided this sorrow and perplexity to the horse, he spoke again: “Sultana,” he said, “there is no cause for grief. Mount my back and, with the favor of Allah, I will bear you to other lands. But, first, accept a bit of advice. When the time comes that we are to fly, hold to my neck with all your might. Also keep fast hold upon the reins; because my speed is so great that, if a bullet be shot off behind us, it could not overtake me. Bear this in mind and act accordingly!”

Thereupon the young girl mounted the beautiful coal-black steed and rode to the public square—from one end to the other of it—while all the soldiers stood watching one whom they believed to be their prince.

When the half hour had elapsed, the horse gave a [ 102 ] spring, from the admiring soldiers, and was off like the wind.

When the people saw this they believed that the spirited creature had become frightened, and that the prince could not manage him. A crier was sent to the king, while the soldiers set out in pursuit.

But they found no trace of the horse, nor of his rider—not so much as the prints of hoofs in the road. Then they returned; for they felt that search was hopeless. The king and all his people went into mourning for the prince; and the soldiers were ordered back to their stations.

Now let us come to the princess.

In one day the strange horse brought his rider into a country whose distance was a six months’ journey from her own kingdom. Here he stopped and said to her:

“Sultana, this much of your rescue have I been able to accomplish for you. I can go no farther. Hereafter you must save yourself.”

At this the princess, realizing her lonely condition, dismounted, saying: “O, my beautiful deliverer! First, it was Allah who saved me, then he sent me to you, and now I am left to myself. I will go on; but if danger befall me, what am I to do?” As she spoke tears gathered in her eyes. [ 103 ]

The horse answered: “Ai, sultana! take three hairs from the forelock which hangs over my eyes. Should trouble perplex you, rub them together and I will come to your aid.”

The princess took the hairs, gratefully, and put them in her bosom. Then, flinging her arms about the horse’s neck, she thanked him for all he had done to help her and bade him adieu.

As she withdrew her arms, he disappeared.

The princess traveled on and on, until she entered another country. It was evening. Before her stood a grand palace, at the side of which was a large kitchen. Hastily removing the marks of royalty from her clothing, she entered and asked of the cooks: “My masters, will you take me as an assistant?”

But they were in haste and answered her roughly: “Are you blind? Can’t you see that we are up to our elbows in work? What should we do with a lad like you?”

However, with all the persuasion at her command, she entreated to be allowed to try; and, finally, was accepted and set to running of errands, upstairs and down. After a little, she asked one of the men why they were cooking such enormous quantities of food and in such haste.

“Ai, my son,” was the reply, “do you not know [ 104 ] that every six years a dragon comes to this country and feeds on the king’s liver? To-morrow night is the time of his next coming. It is thought possible that he may be tempted to eat of other food, if enough is spread in the banqueting hall. That is why we are in such great haste. Possibly we may save the life of our king.”

The princess was so amazed that she bit her finger, to learn whether, indeed, she were awake.

All that night she was not permitted to sleep, but worked as hard as she could, serving the cooks. When morning came she stole away, went into the other part of the palace, and climbed the stairs. There, in a room by herself, she saw a sultana who was dressed from head to foot in black. Without letting herself be seen, the young explorer went to another room, in which was seated another princess. This one, likewise, was dressed in black, and all the room was draped in mourning. Leaving this, she went to still another room, in which a sultana, who was arrayed from head to foot in scarlet, was seated upon a divan. The princess went on, noiselessly, until she came to the chamber of the king. The court physician had administered a powder to him, and the king lay unconscious.

During all this, more time had elapsed than the princess dreamed. It was now evening, and time [ 105 ] for the coming of the dragon. She knew, by savory odors that the feast which she had helped to prepare, was spread in the banqueting hall. It seemed to her that a time had come when she should apply for aid. Her heart was trembling with hope and fear; but she took the hairs from her bosom, rubbed them together, when—O, joy, the beautiful horse stood before her once more.

“My princess, art thou in need of me?” he asked. “And what is it that thou requirest?”

“If it be in your power, my noble deliverer, give me a sword so sharp and strong that should I strike an enormous dragon with it, he must be severed in two.”

Without moving from the spot, the horse turned his head and the princess saw a sword among his caparisons. “Take it, my sultana!” he answered. “Use it well. And remember that you must not strike a second blow, in the same place.” With this warning he disappeared.

The princess grasped the sword. Going directly to the king’s chamber, she hid herself in a corner.

The palace was deserted. It seemed strange that the people should leave their beloved king to his fate; but this was in the agreement by which the whole country had been spared. In the middle of [ 106 ] the night a great noise burst forth through all the sky. The moon and stars became obscured. Everything was black as pitch. Immediately afterward, with loud snorts, an immense dragon appeared in the middle of the room.

Scarcely had he appeared when the young princess seized the sword with both hands and crying, “Yellah!” struck him such a blow that his head was severed from the body.

Then a terrible sound came from the body of the dragon; and this sound was like a voice, which formed itself into these words: “O, valiant youth! Let me know, by striking again, whether you are, indeed, a boy.”

But the princess remembered the warning of the horse and remained standing perfectly still, until the soul of the dragon had left his body and gone to Hades, its rightful place. She then cut off one of his ears, put it in her pocket, and, hiding the sword in her clothing, returned to the kitchen and renewed her tasks, running up and down stairs according to the directions of the cooks.

When morning dawned the king recovered from the effects of the powder, which the court physician had given him, looked about him and exclaimed with great astonishment at finding himself still alive. He saw the pitch-black body of the dragon lying [ 107 ] headless in the middle of his chamber. Even in that condition, one could hardly view it without losing his wits. He gave thanks unto Allah for his escape; after which his mind was lost in wonder as to who had killed his mortal enemy.

After a little he went out of the palace. The whole populace had gathered to express grief at the calamity which they supposed had come upon them; but when they saw their beloved king, safe and sound, they were beside themselves with joy and cried: “Praise be to Allah! Our Caliph lives!”

After they had shouted thus until they were exhausted, the king found voice to ask who it was that had killed the dragon. Upon this the people came forward, one by one, each claiming to have accomplished the brave feat “I killed it, my lord!” cried each one, in turn.

The king knew that this could not be true; but he was so glad to be alive, that he gave backsheesh to each, even to the cooks. Everybody received a present who went before the king.

The cooks, noticing that their assistant did not go, said to her: “Why do you stand here listless? See! all we have presents from the king. Go and receive one for yourself.”

“I am not of this kingdom. Your sovereign will not receive me,” was the reply. [ 108 ]

“Why should he not receive you?” cried they all. “Surely he will give you, too, something.”

They continued to urge until the young princess went forward, as the others had done, and, when she had come near to His Majesty, said to him, “O, my padisha! it was I who killed your adversary, the dragon.”

But, according to her prediction, the king repulsed her, saying, “How is that you can claim to have done this thing, seeing that you are not of my people?”

“My padisha,” answered she, “let me prove the truth of what I say and the falsehood of that which all these others have said to you. Here is an ear, which I cut from the head of the monster as soon as he was dead. Let us go and look at the dragon. You will find that his right ear has been cut off.”

Accordingly they went, and, behold! it was as the girl had said.

Then the king turned to her and exclaimed, “My son! ask whatever you will and it shall be given you!”

“My padisha,” was her quiet response, “I ask that Allah may continue your life unto you.”

“Thou art most courteous, my son; but I desire that thou ask something for thyself.”

The same request was repeated. A third time [ 109 ] the king made his royal offer; then the supposed youth made answer: “My padisha, I would like it if you would give to me the maiden in the scarlet robes, who sits upon a divan in an upper room in your palace.”

“But already I have offered to her many youths—brave as well as handsome—and she will have none of them. Why do you ask for her? She is a cruel coquette. In the other rooms, arrayed in black, are my two other daughters. I will give you one of them.”

But the princess answered: “O, king! my fancy prefers the one in scarlet raiment. If you will give any to me, let it be this one.”

So the king had no choice. And, since he realized that to the valor of the one who made the request did he owe his life, he sent a summons; and the girl who was dressed in scarlet came into his presence and stood before him, showing deep respect.

“Ai, my daughter!” said the king. “This youth desires to marry you. I command that you accept him.”

“My honored father,” was the reply. “I pray you give me a little time. Let me dream over the matter, and, to-morrow, you shall hear the result.”

This slight request was granted, and the king’s [ 110 ] daughter returned to her own apartment. When night came on and all was still in the palace, the one who had killed the dragon, stole quietly to her door and watched through the keyhole, to see what she would do.

The girl, who was arrayed in scarlet, set a golden basin, filled with various kinds of perfumed waters, in the middle of the floor. Almost immediately, a dove flew in through the open window, bathed in the water and turned into a beautiful youth, whom the girl embraced tenderly; after which the two sat down beside each other.

“Ai, my lord, light of my eyes!” said she. “To-day my father summoned me into his presence and declared that he would bestow me, in marriage, upon a youth of mean condition. I persuaded him to give me this night of grace in which to think upon the matter. In reality, I wished to consult with you.”

“My princess,” answered the youth, after he had thought for some minutes, “your father should not expect to marry you to one who is not willing to do some valiant deed to win your hand. There is a magic mirror, which the jinns have in charge. No one is capable of securing it from them. It has often been tried. Now, to-morrow, you must say that you will marry this presumptuous one, if he will bring you the magic mirror.” [ 111 ]

When morning returned, the youth again took on the form of a dove and disappeared through the window. After that, the one who had been watching them went away. She saw, very clearly, that the princess who wore the scarlet raiment was under an evil enchantment. And her love for the deluded one was increased by her pity.

The king’s daughter, arrayed all in scarlet, went to her father with the condition. “Verily, my king!” she said, “in a certain place, where the jinns have charge of it, is a magic mirror—into which whoever looks will thenceforth be happy. I would possess this mirror. If the youth who seeks my hand will bring it to me, then will I marry him.”

Upon this the king summoned the assistant of the cooks and said to her: “My son, it is as I told you. This foolish daughter is amusing herself. Now, before she will marry you, she demands that you bring to her a mirror, the securing of which will entail great danger.”

The reply came without hesitation: “My padisha, let it please you that I go and bring the mirror unto your daughter.”

The king, assured that this would end the matter, gave most willing consent. “Let it be so, then!” he replied. “Go and bring it.”

Having obtained royal permission to leave the [ 112 ] palace, the supposed youth went beyond the sight of any, took the magic hairs from her bosom and rubbed them together. Immediately the horse appeared and was greeted most gladly.

“O, you beautiful creature! In a certain place, protected by the jinns, there is a mirror of which I am in need. You, who are so powerful, bring it to me, I pray!”

“Verily, I would gladly do as you desire, O, my princess! But it is not permitted me to touch the mirror. I will help you to obtain it for yourself. But you have much to do. Let me ask that you mount my back.”

This done, they were off like the wind.

After going for some time, they came to a high mountain. Here the horse stopped quite still, saying: “My princess, I have brought you as far as is permitted me. Dismount and go to the mountain opposite, where you will come upon the haunt of the jinns. Observe them carefully. If their eyes are shut, be assured that they are awake; but, should their eyes be open, you may believe them asleep. Enter softly. You will see the mirror hanging above their heads. Secure it, and return to me with all speed, without once looking behind.”

“Very well,” was the answer, “I will do my best.” [ 113 ]

Then she climbed to the top of the mountain indicated, and easily found the place where lived the jinns. Approaching noiselessly, she saw the mirror hanging above their heads and noted, carefully, that their eyes were open. Knowing this to be assurance that they were asleep—although it required great faith in the word of the horse—she went in boldly, took the mirror, turned about, and, as soon as she was beyond hearing, ran toward the horse without once looking behind.

She was no sooner out of the place than the jinns wakened, discovered their loss, and looked about until they espied the flying figure of the girl.

“Youth!” they shouted, “bring back our mirror!” And as they said the words, they rolled down stones that were like a broken mountain for size.

But the princess, without casting the slightest glance backward, ran until she reached the side of the horse. As soon as she was upon his back, he gave a great bound and was off like the wind, leaving the jinns behind, gnashing their teeth in useless rage.

After a time they two reached the palace, where the princess dismounted, and the instant her feet touched the ground, the beautiful coal-black steed vanished. She then entered the palace and went directly into the presence of the king. [ 114 ]

His Majesty was surprised at seeing her, and supposed that she had come to say that the foolhardy undertaking had been abandoned. But, instead, after receiving obeisance, these were the words he heard:

“Behold, O, king! I have brought the mirror which you asked of me.”

The king’s amazement was great. He summoned his daughter—who came in, wearing the same brilliant garments—and said to her: “Look! This youth has brought the mirror which you requested!”

For the moment the girl was too amazed to speak. However, quickly recovering herself, she received the mirror, and made still another request for delay, while turning it about in her hands:

“O, my kingly father! I beg you to grant another night’s dreaming; during which I may think upon this strange feat. To-morrow shall my answer be ready.”

“Let it be as you desire,” replied her father. “Take another night in which to think upon the matter.”

Then the king’s daughter withdrew. The seeming youth, also, made obeisance and went out from the king’s audience chamber to hide away from the cooks until evening, when, as before, she stole to the door of the one to whom had been delivered [ 115 ] the mirror, and renewed her watch of the night previous.

After the golden basin had been placed in the middle of the floor, the same snow-white dove flew in at the window, alighted in the perfumed waters, bathed, and came forth a youth—handsome, brave, and strong as a lion. He embraced the king’s daughter, who said to him:

“O, joy of my heart! light of my eyes! my lord! Sad news have I to tell. The youth of mean condition went to the home of the jinns and returned with the mirror you described. I knew of nothing to do, except to beg my father for another night in which to think upon the matter. How shall we punish this presumptuous fellow?”

“Aha! then he was able to procure the mirror! But do not let that vex your soul, my princess! We will ask of him something of which no human being is capable. In another place, under the charge of the giants, is a rare and costly diamond. None so large ever has been seen by human eyes. Request this youth to procure the diamond for you, and when he has failed you will be free to marry me.” This he said without the slightest intention of marrying anyone.

During all this, the other princess was listening without. She could see that the one who had been [ 116 ] a bird was not in real earnest. And she was all the more determined to rescue the maiden who had won her heart unconsciously.

A little later, as the time came when persons were admitted to the presence of the king, the scarlet princess approached him and said: “My father, since this youth who asks my hand has no fortune to offer me, let him procure something which is very precious. There is, in a certain place under the charge of the giants, a diamond, the like of which has never been possessed by mortals. Command that he go forth and secure that. Then will it not seem strange that he should ask the hand of one who is the daughter of a king.”

Her father’s judgment was affected by the specious reasoning. He sent for the supposed youth, and, after receiving his obeisance, said to him: “My son, the giants have a wonderful diamond in charge, of which my daughter is very desirous. It is fitting that you bring it to her, before you receive her hand in marriage.”

With a low bow, “Your orders shall be obeyed, my lord, or I will lose my life in the attempt,” answered the one who had been summoned. She then turned and quickly left the palace.

After having gone beyond the sight of any, she took the hairs from her bosom and rubbed them together ; [ 117 ] whereupon the beautiful horse appeared and listened to the request that had been made.

“I will do all that I can,” he made answer. “The real accomplishment of the undertaking lies with you.”

After the maiden had mounted him, the coal-black creature became like a fire in the image of Asdar. As he started off, a mighty cloud of dust arose.

In a little while he had reached the foot of a high mountain, where he stopped and signified to the princess that she must dismount; after which he said: “Follow this crooked path until you reach the cave of the giants. If all is quiet and you see no great eyes gleaming in the darkness, enter. In the middle of the cave you will see a large stone. Touch this lightly with the little finger of your left hand, and it will open so that you will discover the diamond, shining in a great space within the very center. Put the precious gem in your bosom and return to me, without stopping. Should you but pause, this will be the last day of your life. Also, be careful not to waken the giants; for whatever curse they call down upon you will come true.”

Weighed down with the importance of following these instructions, the brave young princess set out in the path indicated to her, and soon came upon the cave inhabited by the giants. Entering, she caused [ 118 ] the stone to open, after the manner described, secured the great, guttering diamond, and turned to fly back with it.

While she was speeding along, the sleeping giants wakened, discovered the great stone standing open—which, in her haste, the princess had neglected to close—found that their most precious treasure had been stolen, and hastened after the departing figure.

But the flight had been so swift that the giants, being slow at running, saw that they could not overtake her. Therefore they called out: “O, divine youth! If you are a boy, may you become a girl! And if you are a girl, may you, at once, become a boy!”

The swift young figure did not tarry, nor so much as slacken its speed for a breath. Running up to the waiting and anxious horse, she cried, gleefully: “Behold! thou valiant helper! Here is that which, without thee, I could not so much as dreamed of possessing.”

But the horse did not notice the precious thing. “Did I not hear voices calling after thee, my prince? Have the giants pronounced any strange thing upon thee? Because, if they have, you never can be rid of it.”

The answer was most joyous: “They did pronounce a most strange thing, indeed, my deliverer! [ 119 ] But not a curse. At last I have the desire of my heart; the desire of my weeping mother’s heart and the great desire of my father, the king. I need no longer be ashamed to enter his presence; since, now, I am really his son! Praise be to Allah, who is gracious to all!”

At this the horse was delighted, equally with the youth, and replied: “Verily, my prince—since you are, indeed, a prince—from this time forth, whatever you may wish, I will do it; without in the least disappointing you.”

Upon this the delighted pair flew back to the palace, as if upon the wings of the wind; where, as usual, the coal-black steed immediately disappeared.

The young prince entered the palace, and, after seeking audience with the king, presented himself before the throne, made low obeisance, and announced the success of his journey.

“Here, O, padisha! is the diamond which you have required at my hands.”

The king was dazzled with the magnificence of the great gem. With all speed he sent for his daughter, to whom he said: “Verily, my child, this valiant youth has secured the priceless jewel which you demanded. What new trial of his patience and ardor will you now invent?”

The almost fainting girl responded: “Ai, my [ 120 ] father! for the love of Allah, grant to me one more night. To-morrow, surely, I will give you a final answer.”

The king permitted himself to be curious concerning the new device which the heart of his daughter would invent; therefore he answered: “It is but a day. To-morrow bring me thy answer.”

The princess returned to her room, and the young prince concealed himself until night came on, when he went to her door to observe what would come to pass. Everything occurred as on previous evenings. The snow-white bird, after plunging in the perfumed waters, became a youth, as beautiful as the moon. The two embraced, after which the princess cried: “O, my dear harbor of refuge! my lord! The ill conditioned youth has brought the diamond to-day, as he brought the mirror yesterday. What will become of us?”

But the young prince smiled at her distress, comforting her with a caress, and answered:

“Do not be troubled at this, my princess! Since my father is king of the fairies, can it be impossible for me to find a way out of this dilemma? In the middle of our pleasure garden stands a crying pomegranate tree, and near it a laughing bear. The moment any person approaches the tree, or even stretches out a hand toward its branches, the tree [ 121 ] begins to cry. And when the bear hears the crying of the tree, he is filled so with delight that he begins to laugh. As a consequence, no one, except the gardener and the keeper, can go near them.

“To-morrow I will ask my father to command that all the soldiers in his kingdom take up their arms. I will station them about the tree. Should this presumptuous youth dare to appear, it will mean instant death to him.

“When he comes again, announce that you have but one more request. Tell of the tree and say that you have desired it long. Pride in those two achievements will disarm his wisdom. He will undertake to gratify you, and will meet the death which he deserves for having aspired to the hand of a king’s daughter.”

Later on, at the break of day, a bird flew out of the window and did not pause until it had reached the pleasure garden of the king of the fairies. There, turning into his rightful form and appearing as prince of the fairies, he commanded all the soldiers of the kingdom to take up their arms. Then he set them to watch about the pomegranate tree.

Let us come again to the scarlet princess.

Early in the day she entered the audience chamber of her father and approached him, saying: “O, [ 122 ] my king! In the pleasure garden of a certain palace stands a weeping pomegranate tree, and beside it is a laughing bear. Should this youth be able to grant a third desire of my heart and bring me the tree, I will be able no longer to deny his suit, but, assuredly, will marry him.”

Whereupon the king, having already gained much, became desirous of possessing this most curious object. He summoned the youth and said to him:

“My son, in the pleasure garden of the king of the fairies stands a weeping pomegranate tree, and beside it a laughing bear. If, for her sake, you will bring this tree to me, then will I give my daughter to you with my own hand.”

To which the young prince made modest answer: “Verily, O, king! the other requests have I fulfilled. If Allah grant wisdom and strength, I will bring you, also, this tree.”

Thereupon he took leave of the king and went without the palace. When quite alone he rubbed together the hairs which were wont to bring the horse to his aid. Immediately the beautiful creature appeared and asked the prince what he desired.

This third request of the princess and her father was repeated, to which the horse made answer: “My master, the accomplishment of this feat will [ 123 ] be somewhat difficult. Nevertheless, if need be, let my life be given for your happiness—for, should you fail, it will mean death to me. But you have lacked neither discretion nor valor in preceding trials. Come! let us see what can be brought about.”

The prince mounted, and, like Asdar, emitting flames from mouth and nostrils, the horse flew upon his way.

After going for some time, they entered another country, where they came upon three children who were disputing, bitterly, over their inheritance, which consisted of a goatskin, a cap, a whip, and an arrow.

The horse came to a halt and said: “These articles are very necessary to us, O, prince! See if you can persuade the children to yield them to you.”

The prince went up to the three. “Children,” he said, “why are you quarreling thus? Would you have me divide the articles between you?”

“Yes, yes!” cried all three.

Taking the arrow, he said: “Look! I will throw this. Whichever of you brings it first, shall have the inheritance.”

All agreed to this proposition of the young stranger.

Then the prince threw the arrow with all the strength of his arm; and, while the children ran off [ 124 ] in search of it, he laid three gold pieces for each child upon the ground, took the skin, the cap, the whip, remounted the horse, and again was upon his way.

When the children returned and found the gold, they rejoiced greatly.

After going and going, the horse came to the palace of the fairy king, when he said: “My prince—who art now, indeed, a prince—put on the cap, mount upon the goatskin, and strike it with the whip. Thereupon you will arise in the air and descend in the garden, where stands the tree we have come to seek. With one motion you must pull it up by the roots and immediately bring it to me.”

The prince did as directed. After he had struck the goatskin, he became invisible. He arose into the air, sailed slowly until above the garden, when the skin began to descend.

When his feet touched the marble stones he decided to enter the palace, where great was his surprise to see the girl with the scarlet clothing, sitting beside the one who had been a bird the night before.

The newcomer was still invisible; so, approaching, he sat down beside them. After a little, dinner was brought. While those two were eating, their [ 125 ] invisible guest, being very hungry, sat upon the other side of the table and ate with them. They were surprised to see the food disappear from the other side of the platter.

“Princess,” exclaimed the fairy prince, “my portion is in front of me; yours is before you; but whose is the other?”

And they were lost in astonishment.

When the meal was over, they sat down upon the divan which stood before the window.

Now, the scarlet-robed princess had given an embroidered handkerchief to the fairy prince, which the invisible prince took from the divan and hid in his bosom.

When the two discovered that it was gone, they began searching for it. Everywhere in the room they looked; but nowhere could it be found.

The invisible prince then remounted the goatskin, struck it with his whip, mounted into the air, and sailed out of the window. By this time it was night. As the prince reached the point directly above the pomegranate tree, he seized and pulled it up by the roots.

At this the tree began to cry; and the bear, delighted with the misery of the tree, began to laugh with all its might. So the brave prince suddenly thought that he would like the bear as well. Seizing [ 126 ] hold of that with his other hand, he ascended into the sky bearing them both.

Within, from the window, the fairy prince and the scarlet-clothed princess saw the tree and the bear ascending, as if without hands. In great frenzy they called to the soldiers:

“Strike! Stand not still!”

And the soldiers, seeing no one whom to attack, became confused and fought one with another. They believed, in the dim light, that an enemy had come upon them. During it all, the two stood at the window, helpless. When they saw the tree disappear, they exclaimed:

“Alas! Alas!”

Then the fairy prince said to the maiden: “It must be he who took the handkerchief you gave me. Now, he has taken the weeping tree. I am become helpless. No longer will I hold you from one so valorous. Marry whom you will!”

“This strange youth has become my fate,” replied the princess.

She went out, mounted her camel, and rode to her father’s palace, where she entered his presence and stood before him with the greatest respect.

Let us come again to the prince.

After securing the tree and the bear, he returned [ 127 ] to the horse, remounted, and set off for the palace; where he alighted, entered the presence of the king, and set down before him the pomegranate tree, which had been crying all the time. The bear, also, came following behind, laughing merrily at the discomfiture of the tree.

Bowing three times, the prince then straightened himself to his full height. “Behold, O, king; this third object which has been asked of me!”

The king was amused and gratified. He descended from his throne to greet the prince, and cried: “Bravo, my son! You have done exceedingly well. To whom should I give my daughter if not to the one who saved my life from the dragon, who brought the magic mirror, the precious diamond, and who now has added an endless source of amusement by bringing this tree and the bear?”

Then the scarlet-clothed princess drew near, fell upon her knees before her father, and confessed that she had been enchanted by the fairies. She begged her father’s forgiveness for having listened to their approaches, thus giving them power over her. She protested that the spell was broken; that the courage and patience of a true, human prince had won her heart.

So the two were married. And the festivities continued forty days and nights, during which the [ 128 ] young husband revealed his own station to all who were at the wedding. Upon the forty-first day he took his princess, and set out for the palace of his own father with a retinue. When this was reached, he left his wife and servants without and went within, to seek his mother, the queen.

Great was the joy of those two at meeting. It seemed that they never could lose their embrace. Finally, the queen led her newly found child to the king, where he related all the wonders that had been wrought for him.

The king commanded that the princess be brought. The two were married again, according to the rites of the kingdom, and another festival of forty days and nights was celebrated.

After that, the prince went away one day, rubbed the three hairs, and, when the beautiful steed appeared, fell upon his neck, weeping tears of gratitude and sorrow.

“I return to thee these hairs,” he said, “O, most noble and unselfish creature! Without thy aid I could not have accomplished my happiness, neither that of my adored mother, nor of my honored father. I will not keep the talisman, fearing that some evil person may come into possession of them and ask ignoble things of you, who are most noble. Go! and may Allah be praised for your services!” [ 129 ]

When the prince returned he sat by himself during the remainder of the day, in deep meditation and grief. But when the evening meal was brought, he permitted his wife and mother to win him from his sad thoughts.

So they all lived happily ever after. [ 130 ]

The tellers of stories say that, once upon a time, there lived a king who was wise and just. And this king had a daughter who was so very fond of the dowager queen that she was always to be found in her company.

One day, during hour after hour, the queen sat lost in thought. At length, the princess approached and asked of what she was thinking.

“O, my child!” the queen replied, “I have an affliction. It is upon that I am thinking.”

“O, queen mother!” again asked the princess, “what is this that you call an affliction? Will you not buy one for me, also, that I may be permitted to sit beside you and meditate in your company?”

“If thou so desire. But, first, I must provide myself with money.”

Then the princess made haste to lay all that she possessed before the queen, who, taking five or six pounds of the gold, went to the market and purchased [ 131 ] a bird of affliction. The slave who accompanied her bore it to the palace, when the queen called the young girl and delivered it to her, saying:

“Here, my princess, is a bird of affliction. It is yours. Take it.”

The princess found great pleasure in the bird. Both day and night she played with it. After a few days, with her maids, she went to a great pleasure garden. The bird was taken with them, and when they reached the head of the fountains its cage was hung upon the limb of a tree.

Presently the bird began to talk. It said: “Ai, sultana, will you not let me out for a little? I would fly about and look at the country with the other birds. I will return to you.”

The princess, being truthful herself, had not learned to doubt those whom she loved. She believed the bird, opened the door of his cage, and let him go forth. After about two hours, while the maids were amusing themselves in a distant corner of the garden and the maiden was enjoying herself alone, watching the sparkling waters of the fountain, the bird returned. She greeted him joyfully and held out her hand that he might alight upon it.

The bird came nearer, suddenly turned into a jinn, laid rough hold upon her, and carried her off. [ 132 ]

After a flight of two hours, he left her upon the top of a very high mountain. And as he disappeared, he cried: “There! have you learned what an affliction is? Wait and see others of the same sort which I shall bring to you!” So saying, he turned into a column of air and disappeared.

When she had recovered from her terror, the princess looked about her. All was barren and desolate. She began to wander about in the hope of discovering some signs of life. Hungry and forlorn, she wandered day after day, until, finally, meeting a shepherd, she said to him: “Good shepherd, if you will give me the clothes you have on, I will give you these silk ones, with all my ornaments.”

The shepherd agreed to do so. The princess then retired within some encircling rocks, and when the shepherd’s clothes were thrown over to her, took her own off and tossed them without. Then dressing herself in the coarse garments, and tucking her hair under her cap, she set out to continue her wandering.

After going a long way, she came to the far outskirts of a town. The first building she reached was a coffeehouse, which she entered, and said to the owner, “Father, will you take me as an apprentice?” [ 133 ]

The coffee-maker, being a little short-sighted, looked at her attentively, then answered that he had been desirous of a helper and engaged her at once.

Time passed, and all went well until, one day, the coffee-maker said to his apprentice: “I am going home to-night. Do you sleep in the coffeehouse. Do not let anyone steal the goods. Take care of everything!” Having thus commanded, he went away.

When it became quite dark, the lonely girl locked the coffeehouse and lay down in a corner. After a time she persuaded herself that there was no cause for fear, and went to sleep. In the middle of the night, while deep sleep held her senses, the bird which the queen dowager had purchased in the market entered, and broke all the nargilehs (water-smoking pipes) and all the cups that were in the place, into little bits. Then he went up to the girl and wakened her roughly.

What did she see? Everything that had been in the coffeehouse when she went to sleep was destroyed. Seized with terror, she covered her eyes with her hands to shut out the unhappy sight.

But the bird rejoiced at her misery, and cried out, with glee: “There, do you see? Only wait a little longer. Then you will behold other afflictions [ 134 ] of the same sort. They are upon the way to you!” So saying, he flew off.

All the remainder of the night the poor girl sat in her corner in dread of the morrow. When morning came she was racking her mind to find an answer, to give the master when he should come and question her about the matter.

The coffee-maker arrived early, and—what should he see but every one of his possessions broken into tiny bits! He believed it to have been done by the malicious action of the girl. Dealing her a dreadful blow, he seized her by the collar, and threw her out of the house.

At this she wept bitterly and protested her innocence, but the enraged man would not listen. There was nothing left for her but to seek another place.

Presently she reached a tailor’s shop, gathered courage, and entered. Now, it so chanced that this was the time of a great feast. Many orders had come from the palace, on account of which all the tailors were busy cutting and sewing. As a consequence, when the head tailor was asked if he would take a new apprentice, he made ready answer: “Certainly. I have need of one. Come in and you shall have plenty of work.”

All went well for a few days, and the poor girl hoped that the bird of affliction had not learned of [ 135 ] her whereabouts. But, alas! one day the tailor went to his home and commanded her to remain behind in charge of the shop.

Fear seized upon her so that she could not sleep until near the middle of the night, when a sort of stupor overcame her, and, sure enough! at exactly the same hour as before, the bird entered and did not rest until he had torn up all the clothes that were in the place.

Then he wakened the girl and bade her look about. And what could she see but all the garments—the beautiful gold-embroidered ones, as well as the plain—every one, and the uncut pieces of cloth, all torn into little bits!

When her scared eyes had taken it all in, the bird laughed hoarsely and said: “There, my sultana! Do you see? And after this you will learn what other sort of affliction I shall bring to you!” Having said this, he flew away.

The morning came, and also the master of the shop. He entered in haste, for there was much to be done that day, and looking about him—what should he see? All the gorgeous garments, which were to go to the palace that morning, and every piece of cloth which had not been cut—all, alike, were torn into tiny bits!

Upon seeing this, the distracted man began to [ 136 ] beat his head on the stones and cry: “Alas! all my work has been brought to waste! And not only my labor is lost, but all these costly pieces of cloth have been destroyed!” Despair lost him his senses. He fell to the ground in a faint.

The apprentice hastened to bring water with which to bathe his temples and to chafe his hands and feet. After some time consciousness returned to him, and he began asking the girl who it was that had wrought such destruction. But, however much he questioned her, she made absolutely no answer.

Consequently, after pondering upon the matter, the tailor said to himself: “The boy has no money that I can take in payment for my loss. Shall I take his soul from him?” Then he dealt a heavy blow, intending to take the life of his apprentice, and hurled the supposed boy out of the shop.

The poor creature was stunned, but not killed. After a little, she recovered sufficiently to be able to make her escape. Weeping sadly at her hard lot, she went until a chandelier maker’s shop was reached, where she asked, with trembling, if she could be taken as an apprentice.

But the master of the shop answered her roughly. “Go away!” he cried. “Go away, boy! What could I do with you? I don’t need anyone to [ 137 ] look after me; neither do I want to look after a boy.”

However, after some time, when he saw that the poor creature would not go away, he yielded to her desire and took her for his apprentice.

Time passed and all went well. The poor girl began to hope once more. But upon one day, among other days, it became necessary that the master should go away to attend to some very important business. He gave the strictest injunction to his apprentice that the shop must be taken good care of—that everything should be so guarded that no possible harm could come.

When night came on, the apprentice was more than usually careful in locking every entrance. After that she lay down in a corner.

In the middle of the night the same bird came and did all the evil to which he had been accustomed. A stupor was upon the sleeper, so that she did not hear the crashing of glass nor the breaking of wrought metals. It was not until the bird had wakened her, that she knew of the havoc that had been wrought.

As she looked about her, the same words were spoken that had greeted her ears when other troubles came upon her: “There, my sultana! Do you see? Wait until the other afflictions come. I shall [ 138 ] bring more to you of the same sort.” With these threatening words he flew away.

When morning came the apprentice opened the shop, as usual, and awaited the coming of her master, which was not long delayed. The chandelier maker came, and—what should he see? So many chandeliers as there were in the shop! And all of them in utter ruin!

The anger and despair of the poor man brought him to such a state that he looked about for a place to hang himself. In so doing he discovered the apprentice, hiding behind some boxes in a corner. He seized a stick, gave the poor creature a sound beating, and threw her out of the shop.

Again the poor girl went off crying. This time she thought in her heart: “Into whatever shop I have gone, so much harm has been brought by the bird, and so many times have I been beaten, so many blows have I eaten! After this, in order that no harm may be brought upon others, I shall stay by myself. I will go and wander from mountain to mountain.”

So saying, she took the path leading in that direction. When evening came, she found herself very hungry and thirsty. Also, she had made the unhappy discovery that wild animals, most ferocious beasts, inhabited the mountain upon which night [ 139 ] had overtaken her. To escape these she climbed to the top of a tree, where she slept, as best she could, during the night.

When it became morning, just after dawn, the son of the king of that country went out on the mountain to hunt and saw the apprentice curled up in the tree. The light being yet dim, he believed that he had discovered a strange kind of bird. So he shot an arrow at it, which flew wide of its mark and hit the tree instead.

When the prince came nearer he saw, to his horror, that it was not a bird at which he had shot, but a human being. Fear seized upon him. He called out, “Are you an animal or a jinn?”

“I am neither the one nor the other,” the girl replied. “I am a man. Fear of the wild beasts drove me to seek refuge here.”

“Then descend. And with my arrows I will protect you,” answered the prince.

After he had assisted her down, he was touched with sympathy at her miserable state, and at once conducted her to the palace. When they had arrived there, and the stranger was led to the bath, she told the slave that she would like a woman servant to be sent to her. To this one she revealed the truth that she was not a man, but had been obliged to wear the clothing of one, for the sake of [ 140 ] safety. The slave woman then bathed and dressed her in garments that were fitting.

When this had been done, all those who were in the bath were surprised; for the one who had come to them as an apprentice lad, seemed now as the fourteenth of the moon for beauty. Her like had never been seen in the palace.

The slaves led her from the bath and into the presence of the prince, who, at sight of her loveliness, became as if intoxicated in his mind. He remained thus for more than an hour. When his reason returned he went directly into his father’s presence.

“Most revered father!” said the prince. “Yesterday I went out to hunt and found a most strange thing—a maiden who had been frightened by the wild animals and had taken refuge in a tree. What could I do? It is the province of the brave to succor the weak. Therefore I assisted her to the ground and brought her home with me. Since she has been relieved from terror and refreshed with the bath, she appears to me as the loveliest and most desirable maiden in the whole world. She is become my fate. I beg that you will permit me to marry her.”

Hardly could the king restrain his astonishment at this. “What childish tale are you telling me, [ 141 ] my son? Lead hither the maiden! Let me look upon her!”

The prince made haste to command her coming, for he was assured, in his heart, that even the king must admit her loveliness.

And it was so. When the maiden had entered, and after she had answered, modestly, his greeting, the king was so pleased with her that he no longer wondered at the desire of his son. He yielded to importunity and gave his consent to the marriage.

Immediately the wedding was arranged. During forty days and forty nights the celebrations continued. Upon the forty-first day the prince was married to the beautiful princess.

They were very happy together. Near the end of the first year a little daughter was born to them. Then did their happiness seem complete.

Some time elapsed. The child grew and had perfect health. One night, when the prince, the princess, and all of their attendants were asleep, the bird, which had bided its time patiently, came into the chamber where lay the child and its mother. He smeared the mouth of the princess with blood, took the child under his wing, and wakened her roughly.

“See!” he cried. “I am carrying off your child. [ 142 ] Wait a little! You will learn what other afflictions are in store for you!”

As he uttered these cruel words he flew away; leaving the princess speechless with grief, and unconscious of the blood-stains upon her lips.

Morning came. The prince arose to find his child gone and the mouth of his wife smeared with blood! He was amazed at the sight, but did not permit himself to speak until he had gone into the presence of his father, to whom, with great effort to control his grief, he confided the state of affairs.

The king’s surprise knew no bounds. “My son,” he asked, “whence came this girl? Where did you tell me that you had found her?”

“Upon a mountain, my father.”

“Then, although she has conducted herself becomingly and has seemed most gentle and sweet, undoubtedly there is savage blood in her veins. One can never tell when this may manifest itself. If she will eat her own child, whom she loved, she may, at any time, become possessed with the desire to eat other people.”

However, the love which both the king and the prince had for the princess, and her own undoubted grief at the loss of the child, caused them to hesitate as to what course to pursue. Day after day went by, and nothing was done about the sad matter. [ 143 ]

After a considerable time another daughter was born to them, and, in the same way as before—though both the prince and the princess, each without letting the other know of it, had charged the nurse and attendants to be extremely watchful—the bird came, took the child, again smeared blood upon the mouth of the princess, and flew away.

When morning came, the prince found the same sad state of affairs which had bewildered him before. He could not restrain his grief, the knowledge of which was borne to his father.

The king was moved with great indignation, along with his sorrow. He gave command that the savage woman should be put to death.

When the prince learned of this command, his grief at the loss of the child was swallowed up in the greater one of losing his wife. All his love for the beautiful girl, whose life with him had only these two blots, swept over his heart. He hastened to his father, prostrated himself before him, and begged that, once more, her life might be spared.

The king, seeing the grief of his son, and experiencing a like tenderness in his own heart, was gracious once more and annulled the sentence.

Time came and went. At the end of another year a boy was born to the young couple. When the boy had reached the age of the other children [ 144 ] when they disappeared, the prince began to reflect, saying within himself: “Should the savage instincts take possession of the princess and she, unconsciously, destroy this child, nothing would prevent my father from commanding and insisting upon her death.”

Thinking thus, he made up his mind to remain awake all night and watch. After the princess had gone to sleep, the prince took a needle in his hand, and held it in such a manner against his chin that, should he become sleepy and nod, the point would enter the flesh and waken him. Finally, however, a strange, heavy sleep, against which he had no power of resistance, overcame him, and the needle dropped from his hand.

About twelve o’clock the bird came, after it had smeared blood upon the mouth and nose of the mother, and took this third child; upon which it wakened her, saying: “Verily, my sultana, I am going to take your boy from you. Hereafter you shall see me again. There are other afflictions. I will bring them to you.”

The princess tried, frantically, to detain him. But it was impossible. Neither was she able to cry aloud. Dumb with terror, she remained helpless while the bird disappeared with her youngest child.

When morning came and the prince arose—what [ 145 ] should he find? That his little son was gone, no one knew whither; and that the mouth and even the nose of the princess were all covered with blood. Horror possessed him. He was frantic with grief, and the king, learning within the hour of the dreadful matter, sent an order to the chief executioner that the princess must be killed immediately.

In obedience to the royal command, the executioner bound the hands of the princess behind her and led her toward an open square. But the royal prisoner was so fair and seemed so innocent and heartbroken, that even the heart of the executioner was touched. When they were beyond sight of those in the palace, he said to her:

“O, my princess! I cannot put you to death! Fly from here. Go in any direction you choose; only do not return to the palace. And may Allah give you peace!” Thus speaking, he set her free.

The unhappy young woman went away weeping bitterly. Grief at the loss of her husband’s love, and terror as to the fate of her little ones, broke her heart. Knowing not whither, she unconsciously pursued the path by which the prince had rescued her when upon the mountain.

But even then she was not to escape. Presently the bird appeared.

“Ai!” she cried. “And art thou come again? [ 146 ] Hast thou not afflicted me according to thy wish thus far? Leave me now, I beseech thee! to mourn over all thou hast taken from me!”

But the bird lifted her by her clothing and flew off with her.

After some time they came to a palace which was all covered with precious stones—one never before seen by human eyes nor described by a human tongue. It was so beautiful that the eyes of any beholder must become dazzled at the sight of it.

Into the garden of this palace the bird descended with his burden. As soon as their feet touched the marble wall he gave himself a shake, and at once turned into a young prince who was like the full moon for beauty.

When the princess saw this transformation, her terror was changed to amazement. The prince then took her hand to lead her up the steps into the palace, when a servant met them, leading three children whose faces shone like the beams of a star—so fair were they to look upon.

When the princess saw them her heart beat fast and her eyes filled. But the prince would not permit her to tarry. He conducted her—the children following them—up the stairs, through a hall inlaid with precious stones, and into a spacious salon. Here, after seating her, he sat down beside her. [ 147 ]

During all this time the children had not once removed their eyes from the beautiful princess, whom they had met upon the staircase.

Then the prince of the fairies spoke; and these are the words that he said: “My sultana, unto you I have done many injuries. I also took your children from you and caused that you be delivered over to the executioner. But not once did you tell those who afflicted you that it was I, and not you, who had done the evil. You were patient and endured all without complaint. Consequently, I caused this palace to be built for you. Everything is yours. And the children, whom I took from you, have been carefully nourished. These children, whom you now see, are those whom you have mourned as lost. All three are yours. And, henceforth, I am your slave.”

Upon hearing this, the princess embraced the little ones, kissing them on the eyes and pressing them to her breast. And the children threw their arms about their mother’s neck, weeping most piteously at the remembrance of their grief at being torn from her.

In this reunion of mother and children whole new worlds seemed to be opened up to them. They could not bear to be separated from each other, neither day nor night. [ 148 ]

Let these four remain in the summerhouse of the magnificent palace, glad in their reunion, while we return to the other prince.

The poor young man was torn with grief—now, over the death of his children; then, because of the reawakened love for his wife; and again, because he believed her to be dead. Both day and night he gave himself up to lamentations.

Now, there was an old clown, whose duty it had been to come every day and tell amusing stories to the prince. But one day his opium gave out, and he obtained a half hour’s leave to go to the market.

While upon the way he looked before him and saw a palace, so magnificent as to make him rub his eyes in astonishment and exclaim: “This palace! When was it built? Here have I been passing by, at any hour of every day, and there has not been seen the slightest sign of such splendor. Is this a dream, or some trick played upon me?”

Thinking thus within himself, he began to walk around its walls and investigate. While he was doing this, the fairy prince and the princess were sitting with the children, in the summerhouse. The fairy prince looked out through the gateway and saw the clown from a distance.

“My sultana!” he said, “here is the prince’s [ 149 ] clown. If you command, we will have him within and, perhaps, gain some amusement.”

“I would have that done which will please you,” was the careful answer.

Accordingly, as the clown was examining the outer walls of the palace, the fairy prince threw an enchanted rose down upon him; which the clown, seeing, picked up, and when he had smelled it said: “O, how sweetly does this rose smell! Say, you, there! Can you, also, smell?” And, although there was no sense in the words, he kept repeating them.

It became noised about the streets that the prince’s clown was losing his senses. And all who saw him, to the number of fifty or sixty persons, stopped to hear the foolish utterance and to shake the head, saying, “Alas! yes; the clown is crazy!”

Let us return to the true prince.

After two hours had passed without the return of the clown, he began to be troubled, and ordered the chamberlain to go out and learn what had become of the old man; also, to bring him back to the palace.

The chamberlain had gone but a little way, when he noticed a large crowd in the public square and went near, to learn the cause of the gathering. To [ 150 ] his surprise, he saw that the clown was in the very middle. Making his way to this side, he said, “The prince sends for you.”

Only the words caused by the enchantment came in answer: “Your rose smells sweet. Can you also smell?” But this time was added, as the speaker looked at the chamberlain: “If they throw a rose to you, from the palace yonder, be warned! Do not pick it up!”

These words served only to arouse the curiosity of the chamberlain. He desired to look more closely at this marvelous palace.

The fairy prince saw him approaching and said to the princess: “Aha! we have here the prince’s chamberlain. Shall he be invited to enter?”

“Your will should answer that, my lord!” was her reply.

Then the fairy prince gave command that the gates of the palace should be opened and, when the chamberlain entered, servants approached to conduct him up the stairs into the palace.

The host commanded that the chamberlain’s clothes of state should be removed before entering his presence. Accordingly, the chamberlain was conducted to another room; but when he attempted to remove his turban, behold! it could not be loosened from his head. [ 151 ]

He sat down in astonishment at this strange matter. And the servants went to their master, with news that the prince’s chamberlain could not take off his turban!

“What manner of man is this, that he cannot remove his turban?” cried the fairy prince, in assumed anger. “Put the fellow without!”

So they led the chamberlain to the gates of the palace, when, as he stooped to put on his shoes, behold! his turban fell from his head!

“Well, well!” he said to himself, as he picked it up. “You are a great fellow! You could not take off your turban when inside the palace; why do you remove it when you are outside?”

So he threw the troublesome thing upon the ground, hastened to where the clown was standing, and, in a low tone that could not be heard by those standing near, told him his story. This caused the curiosity of these two to increase greatly.

Let us return to the prince.

After he had sent the chamberlain to bring the clown and neither of them had returned, he called the lord of the treasury and commanded him to find the two and bring them, straightway, into his presence.

So the lord of the treasury went out, as the others [ 152 ] had done, and, seeing the same crowd in the public square, joined it and took notice of the state in which were those two whom he had come to seek. He drew near to them and inquired the cause.

“If a rose is thrown to you from the newly builded palace,” answered the clown, “be advised; do not smell of it!”

“And if, by chance, you enter this palace,” added the chamberlain, “remove your turban before going in.”

The lord of the treasury, unwisely, turned to look at the palace; and, as he looked, his will became weak. He, also, was drawn toward it.

When the fairy prince saw this, again he turned to the princess: “Here is the lord of the treasury!” he cried. “Shall he, also, be made foolish in mind?”

“It is you who know best,” answered the princess.

Accordingly, the lord of the treasury was admitted, who carefully removed his turban as he entered.

“Let him take off his state garments and enter my presence in nightclothes!” commanded the one who had drawn him thither.

The lord of the treasury attempted to obey, but found that he could not remove his coat. However hard he tugged at it, not one fraction of an inch would it budge! [ 153 ]

The servants ran to tell this to their master, who exclaimed: “What sort of man is this, who cannot remove his coat? Does he expect me to believe such a foolish statement? Put him out, quickly!”

The servants made haste to obey, and the bewildered lord of the treasury had taken scarcely a step when, of itself, his coat fell from his back!

“Well, well!” exclaimed the amazed man. “Since you would remain on when I was within the palace, why do you come off now that I am without?”

In anger he threw the coat upon the ground and went to join the others.

Time passed by, and the prince, whose people loved to obey him quickly, became very much excited with wondering what could have become of his messengers. He went out to seek them himself, and presently came upon the three.

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded. “Why have you all tarried so long?”

At which question the clown made reply: “If the people in the new palace throw a rose to you, do not smell it!”

And the chamberlain added: “If you enter there, remove your turban before you pass the threshold.” [ 154 ]

While the lord of the treasury murmured: “Leave your coat behind when you go.”

At these strange answers the prince nearly lost his head. He felt that, as their prince, it was his duty to solve the mystery. So he turned and, without one word, went swiftly to the palace and demanded admission.

The moment he stepped inside, the fairy prince, the princess—who could hardly restrain her joy at seeing him—the three children, and all the servants came forward to do him honor.

Speechless with astonishment, he suffered himself to be conducted up the grand staircase and into the reception room. The eldest child brought a chair, which it presented with deep obeisance; the second spread a serviette upon his knee; while the tiny one, kneeling, proffered a golden tray upon which was a costly plate. Upon the plate were some pears, and a spoon lay beside the plate.

The surprise of the prince continued to grow; but, commanding himself and wondering if he could be dreaming, he asked, “Should pears be eaten with a spoon?”

Whereupon all the children made answer in chorus: “Should one believe that a loving mother would eat her own children?”

At this answer the prince became dumb. [ 155 ]

“Look!” they continued. “We are all your children. And this is our mother, who loves us.”

At that moment the fairy prince appeared and said: “Ai, my prince! may your eyes become luminous! This is, indeed, your princess. And these are your children.”

When he had said this, the children threw themselves upon their father’s neck. Then the princess came forward and embraced her lord. And to the very depths of their souls were these five persons happy.

When their rapture had become somewhat calm, the fairy prince again approached and, making obeisance, said: “I am your slave. Long ago I was purchased for the princess, with her own money. Before that time I had been very wicked. My own mother, the queen of the fairies, had cursed me. As a consequence, I was thrown into this condition. I beg your royal pardon for all I have unwittingly caused you to suffer.

“Now, if it be your good pleasure, and if you, graciously, will grant permission, I will return to my own country and seek out my own father and my mother. Perchance they may care to see me once more.”

“Since these later acts were not your immediate fault,” replied the prince, “you have the gracious [ 156 ] permission of my princess and myself. Go in peace and refrain from future evil-doing!”

Accordingly, the fairy prince bade them adieu and went away, leaving the beautiful palace, with its setting of costly gems, unto the others.

Then the princess caused a messenger to carry the news of her final good fortune to her own father; who rejoiced, greatly, that the daughter, whom he had mourned as dead, was still alive and living in the estate due to her birth. He sent royal presents and his blessing. Then were the prince and princess married again; and their second wedding was celebrated during forty days and forty nights. They lived happily ever afterward.

And may Allah grant the same to us! [ 157 ]

The tellers of stories and narrators of tales say that, once upon a time, there was a king who had only one child and that a daughter.

Now, it happened that the king’s vizier, whose house was directly opposite the palace, was likewise circumstanced with regard to his family. And, moreover, the two young ladies had each a room in the very front of her dwelling, and each was very beautiful.

One day the two were sitting at their respective windows, furtively regarding each other across the street, when a tall and handsome water-carrier chanced to pass. Seeing him thus, the king’s daughter spoke.

“O, water-boy, water-boy! Which is the more beautiful, the vizier’s daughter or I?”

The water-carrier gazed upon each in turn, then answered: “My princess, both of you are very beautiful; but, since one must not lie to the child of his king, the vizier’s daughter is the more so.” [ 158 ]

This testimony so wrought upon the jealous princess that she became ill in consequence, and was unable to rise from her bed. The king was greatly disturbed at this. He summoned the court physician and the other learned men, who came to discover what was her ailment and to cure her, if possible.

The princess gave gold pieces to these men and ordered them to tell her father that this illness would prove fatal, unless the vizier’s daughter were killed and some of her blood given as a medicine.

The physician was a weak man and afraid to anger the daughter of his king. He went to her father with the cruel request. Immediately a command was sent to the vizier. But that fond and daring father killed a little kitten and sent its blood instead.

Then, becoming afraid, he summoned a carpenter and had a walnut box made and beautifully fitted up, inside; into which he put his daughter and then ordered his faithful servant to take it to the market and sell it, regardless of the price.

Placing himself in the shadow, the anxious father waited to note the disposal of the box with its precious contents. He had not waited long, when the water-carrier, whose truthfulness had caused all the mischief, came by and stopped to look at the walnut box. [ 159 ]

“Here is a handsome fellow, whose heart surely will be touched into pity and love at sight of my daughter,” thought the vizier; so he made a sign to the servant, who asked the young man if he would not like the box.

“Surely I would like it,” was the response. “But the wood is valuable and the parts are well joined. The price will be high.”

“Indeed, no,” answered the servant. “I am worn with waiting and must be off at once. Give me five paras and the box is yours.”

The water-carrier smiled. “Aha! I see the price is naught to you. I will give you three.”

“Take it and hasten! For I am needed already, at a great distance.”

The purchaser gave him the money, called a porter, and ordered him to bring the box along with him to his house.

Offering a prayer to Allah for the safety of his child, the vizier, followed by his servant, hastened away; while the porter strapped the box upon his back and then followed the water-carrier, until, in obedience to his direction, he placed it in the young man’s room, where it remained that night.

After the young man had gone out, the next day, to follow his avocation, the vizier’s daughter unlocked the box from within, opened it, stepped out, [ 160 ] and looked about her. The whole house was in disorder. She was a girl of very tidy habits and decided to make the bed, sweep, and put at rights the whole place generally. This she did and, when the time approached for the return of her young owner, lay down again in her box and locked it from within.

Imagine the surprise of the water-man when he returned in the evening and found everything in delightful order!

“I wonder who has been here?” he thought. Then, being very tired with long walking, he went to bed and slept soundly all that night.

Morning came. “I must get a locksmith to open this walnut box for me,” he said; then went out upon his daily round.

No sooner had he gone than the maiden unlocked the casket, arose, and did as on the day preceding. At evening she lay down in the walnut box, as before.

The young man entered, saw everything in beautiful order, and stood for some time thinking. Then he went to the box and tried the lock. It would not yield.

“If anyone is within, let him come forth!” commanded the water-man.

But, though he waited long, no sound was heard [ 161 ] in answer. He then went to bed and slept peacefully until morning, when he arose earlier than usual.

This caused the heart of the girl in the walnut box to tremble. However, she remained quiet, and soon found that wisdom had impelled her silence; for the young man returned very shortly, with a fine piece of meat, which he had gone to the butcher’s to buy. Laying it down upon a table, he said:

“If Allah approve, I will cook this to-morrow.” Then he took up his water skins and went out for the day.

The maiden no longer feared discovery. She arose, swept the house, as upon other days, cooked the meat, carefully covered and laid it away; then, seeing many pieces of soiled clothing about, she said: “It is better to wash clothes than to be killed at the caprice of a princess,” and began busying herself in that way when, most unexpectedly, the master of the house entered!

At sight of him the poor girl covered her face and cried: “Alas! alas!”

But the water-man recognized her and was filled with joy. He asked how her condition had become so changed; and, after hearing her story, went nearer to her and said:

“Ai, my princess! You are mine; but I, also, am yours. Let us be married!” [ 162 ]

The young woman gave her consent, a few of the neighbors were summoned hastily, and, with due ceremony, they were married and lived very happily until, both of them fearing discovery, the husband loaded forty donkeys with merchandise, placed his wife upon another, and sent her to the home of his mother, with whom the young woman lived for some time.

However, it is a true saying that the beauty which causes envy in the hearts of others seldom brings happiness to its possessor. Some of the women of the place became jealous of the newcomer and wrote a letter to the husband, telling him that his wife had forgotten him and was in love with another.

This so incensed the young husband that he sent word that he was coming home, bought a dagger, and set out to kill his wife. As he approached the house he saw her coming to meet him, with silver candlesticks in her hands.

But when she saw that his face was dark and threatening, and that he was drawing a dagger from his belt, she ran to the bank of a stream which flowed in front of the house, sprang into it, and was carried away toward the sea.

“Let her go!” cried all the neighbors, who had come out to watch the affair. “She is not worthy of a good home nor of a kind husband.” [ 163 ]

Now, farther down, there were fishermen upon the banks of the stream. As the drowning girl was swept along by the current, the nets caught her, and the fishermen, feeling something heavy in the nets, made haste to draw them in. Their surprise upon finding a girl, instead of a heavy draught of fishes, was very great. They hastened to work over her until she had come to life, when—because she was very beautiful—they began to quarrel as to whom she belonged.

Finally, as they were coming to blows, one of them said: “Let me throw this arrow; then let all of us run after it. Whichever finds it first shall have the prize.”

Accordingly, he threw the arrow, and all of them started off. While they were engaged in seeking it the girl caught the opportunity to run away. And as the one who threw the arrow was very strong of arm, they were so long in finding it that she had accomplished a goodly distance before they discovered their loss.

The poor girl ran and ran, until she met a Jew, who laid rough hands upon her and said: “Ai, my girl! as you seem to belong to no one, I am going to take you. You shall not be let to run wild in this manner. Henceforth you are mine.”

Then the despairing girl held up the two silver [ 164 ] candlesticks—which had been in her hands all the time—and while he was securing them in his pack, she ran again, until she came to a fountain, where she sat down exhausted.

While she was sitting thus, the son of the king of that country came by, and, seeing her, sat down and talked with her. Notwithstanding her weariness and all through which she had passed, her attractiveness was so great that, after he had been beside the fountain but a little while, he asked if she would accompany him to the palace and become his bride.

To this she made answer: “Most gladly will I do this that you ask, O, most noble prince! if you first will grant a request of mine.”

“It is granted already, my princess! Now tell it to me.”

“Since it is beside this fountain, and because of it, that I may have been found by you, may I ask that an agreeable place may be built here in which travelers may drink of the water and rest a little? And, since you seem pleased to look at me, will you have my portrait put into the bottom of the basin, so that all who lean over to drink in the fountain may see it?”

“All this will I have done at once, my princess,” answered the prince. He then took her by the hand and together they went to the palace. [ 165 ]

The fountain was builded as described, and, not far away, a tiny tower was put up from which the prince and the young woman whom he had found could see all those who came to drink at the beautiful fountain.

Now, it very soon happened that the fishermen, passing that way, stopped to drink of the water which flowed clear and bright. As they leaned over the marble basin they saw the girl’s image, and each fell to the ground in a faint.

While they were lying thus the Jew approached, and, in stooping to drink, he, too, lost his senses and fell down beside the others. Last of all came the water-carrier; and no one needs wonder that consciousness left him upon the instant.

Now, the one whose portrait had so distressed them all—the evil each had done her being so upon his conscience that he felt the image had come to wreak vengeance—was watching from the window of the little tower.

“My prince,” said she, gently, “will you graciously come and look toward the fountain?”

Upon seeing the fallen bodies of the men, he turned to her, saying: “There is some mystery here. These men have wronged you in some way.” And without waiting for an answer he commanded that they all be put in irons. [ 166 ]

When they had recovered consciousness and were safely lodged in prison, the prince and the young woman went in to look at them.

“O, prince, gracious and kind!” said she. “These fishermen drew me out of the water, and, while they quarreled over me, I made my escape. This Jew met me in my flight, treated me roughly, and would have made me his slave, but, while he was dazzled with the silver candlesticks in my hand, I fled again. This water-carrier was my husband. Without granting me the privilege of proving myself innocent, he believed evil reports which jealous persons related to him, and came prepared to kill me. It was because of this that I tried to drown myself.”

“Is all this possible?” exclaimed the astonished prince. “Then the Jew and the fishermen shall be punished with forty stripes and forty days’ imprisonment. As for the water-carrier, do you decide what shall be done with him. In this matter your word shall be my law.”

Thereupon the water-carrier fell down at the woman’s feet and kissed the hem of her raiment. “Kill me, O, my beloved!” he cried, “for, indeed, I am worthy only of death. But first grant thy forgiveness! It was the madness of my love which drove me to kill thee, when those evil tidings came. [ 167 ] I had been diligent in business, praying Allah to grant me success, so that I might build a fitting home for thee and me. And my efforts were crowned with the answer to my prayer. At the very time when the tidings came, I was about to come to thee with the precious news; and, therefore, was the more easily incensed. But I ask not for mercy, O, my beloved! Do as thou wilt with me. It will be just.”

“Then, if the prince will be gracious still, and I return unto thee, wilt thou, henceforth, learn the truth before thou sharpenest thy dagger?”

“Canst thou believe me, O, my wife? A thousand times, yes!”

Then the prince, whose eyes were full, gave the woman to her husband. They returned home, were married all over again; the wedding was celebrated for forty days and forty nights, after which they lived long and happily. Salaam! [ 168 ]

The tellers of stories and narrators of tales relate that, once upon a time, there was a valiant youth who had fallen into very poor circumstances, which it seemed impossible to mend. Therefore he decided to try his fortunes in other lands; and, the thought occurring to him that he would not like every chance passer to discover his identity, he disguised himself and fared forth.

After going and going, for a long time, he found himself in another country; and, being weary, he entered the coffeehouse of an old, old man whom, after he had refreshed himself with the unsatisfactory coffee, he asked permission to serve as an apprentice.

The proprietor of the little shop regarded him sadly and replied: “Ai, my son! the coffeehouse is old and does not attract customers—as you see. I have only one or two. They bring me in not more than five or ten paras (ten paras = one cent) a [ 169 ] day; out of which I must buy bread for the evening. That is all I have to live on. Even should you offer to serve me for nothing, how could I take you?”

But this did not abash the young applicant. “Father,” he replied, “I ask nothing whatever from you. Only I beg that you permit me to thrust my head into this refuge, that I may know myself to be out of harm’s way.”

It would have required a harder heart than beat in the old coffee-maker’s bosom, to deny so simple a request. “Very well, my son,” he answered. “Remain! and may peace be upon us! We will get on with whatever Allah sends.”

The youth then kissed his master’s hand and went into the shop, where he sat down to think upon his new estate and to plan what he could do to increase the fortune of his discouraged master.

When evening came, the old man arose. “My son,” he said, “I am going home now. When you are ready to sleep, lock the house carefully.” With these words he went away, leaning heavily upon his stick—for he was very old.

The apprentice locked the door after him and lay down above the counter, where, after a little, he composed himself to sleep.

Exactly at midnight there was a knock upon the [ 170 ] door. The sleeping youth wakened but did not arise. Another moment and the door—which was locked—opened, without difficulty, and a dervish entered with a salaam!

The astonished apprentice returned the salute, without feeling quite sure whether he were asleep or awake.

“Arise, boy!” commanded the midnight visitor, “and make me a cup of coffee; but expect no money for it.”

The boy, thus commanded, arose at once and made the coffee, which the dervish drank without a word, and directly left the shop. The apprentice looked after his departing figure and said: “May Allah grant success to your journey!”

Afterward he relocked the door, lay down in his place, but could not sleep again that night. When morning brought his master to the shop, the two greeted each other, but no word concerning the strange visitor of the night before passed between them.

The day passed slowly enough to the apprentice lad, and, when the shop was closed at night, he lay down and went to sleep as before. “Such occurrences come not often in pairs,” he said to himself. “I shall have peace to-night.”

But exactly at midnight there was the same knock [ 171 ] which had startled him twenty-four hours earlier. He had only time to sit up in his place when the door opened, noiselessly, and two dervishes entered, made each a salaam, and commanded: “Arise, youth! Prepare us two cups of coffee; but expect no money for them.”

Their command was obeyed; the coffee was drunk in utter silence; after which they departed, without a word of thanks or so much as a glance toward the one who had served them.

“May Allah grant success to your journey!” said the youth, as he closed the door after them and returned to his place; where he lay until morning thinking about the strange visitors and wondering what he would better do.

The following day passed as the first one had. After the old coffee-maker had gone at night, the lad locked the door and piled everything he could find in front of it.

“My master’s goods shall not be devoured in this thankless way, if I can prevent it. Should these midnight visitors be Allah’s messengers, nothing I can do will obstruct their coming; so this will do no harm.” Feeling quite sure that he would not be disturbed, he went to sleep.

Exactly at midnight came the same knock, followed by a great noise as the barricade tumbled [ 172 ] away from the door to give space for the entrance of three dervishes, who made salaams and said, as with one voice: “Arise, lad! Make us three cups of coffee; but do not expect us to give you money.”

The surprised youth arose, made and served the coffee. As they received it each one arose. The first one said: “In whatever coffeehouse this youth chooses to be, may the coffee and sugar boxes never be empty! May their contents continue level with the top!”

The second dervish said: “In whatever coffeehouse this youth chooses to be, may customers never be lacking! Like ants may they flock thither!”

But the third dervish said: “May all things whatsoever this youth desires to know, be told to him by a little bird!”

After these strange words the three left the shop; and the boy, wishing them the customary good speed, locked the door, put the scattered articles in their proper places, and lay down in his place. But if it had been difficult for him to sleep after the strange occurrences of the previous nights, how could it be other than impossible this time?

He arose earlier than usual and opened the door, to find—verily!—customers, like ants, without; waiting, in varying degrees of impatience, to be served. [ 173 ]

“Praise be to Allah!” he exclaimed. “The prophecy of the second dervish is fulfilled!”

Greeting them courteously, he hastened to the stove to prepare the coffee, and, as he opened the boxes, behold! they were full to the top!

Without in any degree lessening his speed to serve the customers, his thoughts ran upon all that the dervishes had said. He could not pause an instant, for, as soon as one was served, another came to take his place; so that when the master approached, what was there but a sight that made him rub his old eyes, to make sure that they were not imagining vain things?

“What mystery is this!” he exclaimed, and remained still, perfectly overcome, having strength only to put his finger between his teeth, in order to assure himself that it was, indeed, he, and that he stood before his own shop. “Every day and every day I had one customer—or perhaps two—never three. There certainly must be some magic about this!”

Approaching nearer, with difficulty he found a place by which to enter; but, within, there was none in which to sit. So he turned to the busy youth and said: “My son, the coffee and sugar must be exhausted.”

“I have provided both,” was the cheery response. [ 174 ] “Let me persuade you to sit down, my master, and look to your own comfort and enjoyment.”

The bewildered proprietor retired to a corner and sat down; while on, through the day, his apprentice continued to labor.

At night, when it was time to close the shop, the master went to the money drawer; and there—above all wonders!—what should he see? It was level to the top with money!

The gratified man almost went out of his senses. He cried: “Bravo! my lad. Thy feet are the bearers of good fortune!” Then, in his joy, he kissed the youth’s eyes.

The money sacks were filled, and the delighted master took them home. The apprentice cleared up the shop and retired to his place above the counter, where he slept undisturbed until morning.

During several months the youth remained in the coffeehouse and continued his services to the customers, who came in such great numbers that there was no place to put the money. When this had come to pass he said: “Master, I desire to return to my own country once more. Will you grant permission?”

“Ai, my son! I do not like to part with thee. Not only hast thou brought great riches to me and my family, but I have come to love thee from my heart.” [ 175 ]

Nevertheless, when the request was repeated, he replied: “Very well; go, my son! And may Allah prosper you as he has prospered me!”

Thereupon the boy kissed the old man’s hand; who went out and bought him a suit of clothes, the like of which he had never seen. The garments were rich with gold embroidery; and precious stones made them fit for a prince. When the old man had delighted his eyes with looking at his apprentice in his new garb, he let him fare forth.

After days of journeying, and before he had come into his own country, the young adventurer decided to stop for a while. He hired a coffeehouse, and, no sooner had he opened it, than so many customers flocked thither that it was almost impossible to count them. In short, this coffee-maker became famous throughout the town; so much so, that a very rich man—one noted in those parts—was unable longer to control his curiosity and made a visit to the coffeehouse of which he had heard such flattering reports.

While the youth was preparing an especially delicious cup for him, the visitor sat in almost open-mouthed admiration of his attractive young host. After drinking the coffee he astonished the young man with these words:

“Ai, master coffee-maker! I have a daughter [ 176 ] whose hand many are seeking in marriage. If Allah wills, and you so desire, I will give her to you. What say you?”

When he had recovered himself, the youth bowed low and said, “Verily, honored sir, would it be possible for me to refuse a daughter whom you would give to me?”

Other conversation followed, during which the visitor was more deeply impressed with the desirability of this young man for a son-in-law. He proposed to take him to his own house, and, once there, summoned guests, and the two young people were married that very day. The guests partook of costly refreshments, wished unalloyed happiness to the young pair, and departed.

When the festivities were over and the bridegroom had a moment in which to withdraw from everyone, he summoned the little bird, whose services the third dervish had promised, but of which he had not felt the need before, and asked if his wife would love him.

The little creature hopped close to his ear and chirped into it, “How is it possible for her to love you, when she already is in love with her own cousin?”

This answer decided the youth to abandon his new relations and return to the coffeehouse; which he accordingly did. [ 177 ]

The rich man and his family asked each other, “What manner of man is this, who leaves his wife upon the very day of their marriage?”

But all their questioning would not induce the return of the bridegroom. “It were better to consult your daughter before giving her in marriage to a stranger,” was all he would vouchsafe in explanation.

Shortly after, another rich man came and made the same proposal, allowing no time for serious thought or for consultation with the small oracle.

“There can be hardly such another case,” said the youth to himself, as the rich man pressed his suit; so the matter was accepted and carried out as was the other. But when the small bird was summoned, it answered that the father had married his daughter to the coffee-maker, well knowing that her heart had been given to a son of their neighbor.

So the second time the bridegroom left the house of his father-in-law and returned again to his own place.

One day, not long after, as he was walking by the seashore, meditating upon the strange way in which life was leading him, he came upon a shepherd accompanied by his daughter. The shepherd’s lassie was young and very winsome. It was not strange that the lonely young coffee-maker should [ 178 ] look at her a second and even a third time, or that he should address the father with:

“Ai, good shepherd, is this your daughter?”

“Thanks be to Allah, yes!”

“Then, O, shepherd and dear! according to the law of the Prophet, will you marry her to me?”

To which the father made answer, “My lord, is a shepherd’s daughter worthy to marry such an one as you?”

“I have found her so,” was the answer; and, after further words, he led the two to his own home and engaged the girl to himself.

Afterward he consulted the bird, which assured him that the shepherd’s daughter had never seen anything of the world; that her life had been plain and simple, and that her heart was pure and good.

At this the young man was filled with delight. He cried, “I have found the one whom my heart has been seeking all my life.”

Let these stay here while we go to the rich men, whose daughters this youth had slighted.

When they learned that he, who had spurned their daughters, was about to marry a simple shepherd lass, they became filled with indignation and determined to bring him before the law. [ 179 ]

Upon receipt of the summons the accused young man went, most willingly, to appear in court. There he found gathered together, with their friends, all those who were against him. After the assembly was called to order, the plaintiffs arose and said, each after the other:

“Verily, O, coffee-maker! you married my daughter in accordance with the divine law; but you left her at once after the marriage. I demand your reason for such action. What fault have you against my daughter? Now I learn that you are about to marry—and with satisfaction—a shepherd’s daughter. Is such an act worthy of you? Know, then, that I am bringing a suit at law against you.”

Upon the utterance of these words the faces of all in the room became severe and threatening.

However, the youth arose and made courteous answer: “My masters, let your lady daughters be called! Examine into this matter well. If I have committed a fault, let me receive equal punishment!”

Accordingly, while all waited, swift messengers were sent, and the young women came, each in her own fine carriage. After all present had gazed upon them, taking note of their gorgeous apparel and self-consequent airs, they turned to the accused man, who summoned the little bird and, receiving it upon his finger, held it up before them all and [ 180 ] asked concerning the characters of the two who had just entered.

“They are vain, selfish, and worldly,” was the delicate, chirped answer. “They would make unfaithful wives.”

“Did you hear, my masters? And you, assembled people? Would you take such an one into your lives and close to your hearts?”

Although he waited, no one answered. Some shook their heads.

“And, if you would not, how can you expect it of me? And, furthermore, I would add that should any of you have doubt concerning the truthfulness of this little diviner, do not hesitate to express it; and, in proof, I will call upon him to tell your characters and those of your wives.”

But they all arose in dismay, crying: “O, no; my son! We will not ask such foolish questions. Our time is precious. We would not vex the little creature with further words. Take this gold and go in peace!”

They hastened out, one after another, leaving the coffee-maker and his little bird alone.

“Ai, my birdling!” he said, smiling, “there is not one who dares dispute thee. Let us, also, depart!” [ 181 ]

So saying, he returned to his own house, where, during forty days and forty nights, he celebrated his marriage with the daughter of the poor shepherd.

So these two had peace and their hearts’ desire of happiness, and lived happily ever afterward. Salaam! [ 182 ]

The tellers of stories and narrators of tales say that, once upon a time, there lived a woman who had a son and a daughter who were dearer to her than all else upon the earth. She was so anxious concerning them that they were never permitted to go upon the streets.

One day, to her great disquiet, it became necessary for her husband to go to the Hejaz, and that the son should accompany him.

“I am leaving you and the girl under the protection of the priest,” said the father, in an effort to lessen her anxiety. “If you should have need of anything, ask it of him.” So saying, accompanied by the son, he took leave of his wife and daughter and set off to the Hejaz.

Let us come to the priest.

One day, when he went up to the minaret to give the call to prayer, he looked down into the garden [ 183 ] of this man and woman, and saw there the girl who had been intrusted to his care.

Now, the girl was very lovely. And when he saw her, she was engaged in caring for the flowers in the garden. As she did so a soft melody came from her lips. It was like the humming of a bird.

The priest’s heart was touched. He forgot his vows and fell in love with the maiden. When he had reached home, the picture of the peaceful garden, with its gentle occupant among her flowers, stood ever before his eyes; and the music of her song rang through and through his heart, until he lost all wisdom and made up his mind that he would meet the maiden, at all costs.

He sought out a poor and aged woman among his parishioners, and, giving her a sum of money, told her to bring the daughter of the man who had gone to the Hejaz to some place where he would be able to talk with her.

“That will be very difficult,” the woman replied. “The mother of this girl has never permitted her to leave the house and garden.”

“If you want the money,” insisted the priest, “you must bring it about that I can speak to this maiden. Otherwise—” and he reached out his hand to take back the gold.

This decided the woman, who was very poor. [ 184 ] “Very well,” she hastened to say, “to-morrow, at such a time, I will bring this maiden to the house of my friend yonder.”

Then they parted.

The next day the aged woman took a make-believe bundle of towels and other bathing necessities, and went to the home of the mother, where she asked that the daughter be permitted to accompany her to the opening of a new bathing house.

“There will be fine performances there,” said she, “and very many beautiful girls of high degree will bathe there to-day, and afterward watch the performance. Let your daughter go with me, to join the others. She should see something of life. I will take good care of her and bring her back early in the evening.”

But the answer was: “Mother, up to this time my daughter has not been one of those who gad about to different places. Just two days ago—counting yesterday and to-day—her father went to the Hejaz. Should I let her go out during his absence, people will say that as soon as the father is away, then my daughter and I begin to walk the streets. They will be surprised and scandalized.”

The old woman became importunate. “Visiting the bath is quite different from running about to other places,” she said. “No one will talk. Besides, [ 185 ] I am not asking you to go; I am only asking why your daughter must remain at home, when the daughters of so many of your neighbors go? Do not refuse! I shall take her with me, whether or no!”

With words like these she succeeded in persuading the mother and, after a little, set off accompanied by the girl. They soon reached the house appointed for the meeting, when the girl expressed surprise at not finding many people entering. But her companion assured her that it was yet early, and that others would come speedily. She directed the unsuspecting girl to enter and await her coming, as she had an errand on the next street and would return speedily. At this she hastened away, leaving the girl with nothing to do but as she had directed.

So the maiden entered the strange house and was surprised to see there the priest of her own quarter of the city. She went directly to him and asked if that were the bath house in which the performers were to display feats of strength and skill; and again expressed surprise that no others were there.

The reply was more surprising still: “Should no others come, you and I can spend a pleasant hour together. There is water in the next room; bathe, if you wish; afterward I will bathe also.”

The poor girl was confused—first, at meeting [ 186 ] the priest, then at the consciousness that she had been deceived; but she soon collected herself.

“With your gracious permission,” she said, “I will wash your head first.”

He expressed gratification at this; and the girl went slowly—thinking all the way—to bring a basin of water, with soap and towels. After her return, and when the priest had seated himself before her, she soaped his hair thoroughly, and then poured water upon it, so that the soap ran down into his eyes. Then, as he became blinded with pain and rage, she made her escape to her own home.

The mother expressed delight at her early return; but questioned whether she had enjoyed herself.

“Very well, indeed,” was the reply—given to save her mother from vexation. “The bath was perfect.”

After his calls for help had brought assistance, the priest went home vowing vengeance. Accordingly he sat down and wrote to the young girl’s father, saying that, since his departure, the daughter whom he had so cherished was running about the streets and had become a disgrace to the town.

When this letter was received by the father, he cried: “Alas! what humiliation! It were better that the girl were dead!”

After long dwelling upon the frightful news a [ 187 ] sort of frenzy took possession of him. He commanded his son to go home, cut off the head of his sister, dip her white garment in the blood, and return with it to him.

“Go! go at once!” he commanded; and the unwilling boy set off.

After traveling all the long way he arrived at his native place. During those days of the journey, love for his sister and horror at the commission put upon him filled his soul. He determined to assure himself of the truthfulness or untruthfulness of the accusation and, even should it prove true, to rescue his sister if possible. Accordingly he began at one end of the town and asked all whom he met where he would be most likely to find his sister.

“Surely, in her own home,” each replied. “No one has ever seen her elsewhere.”

Receiving only answers like this, he reached his own home and knocked at the gate.

“Why, it is my brother!” exclaimed the sister, as she looked through the lattice. Then, flying down the stairs, she greeted him joyfully and escorted him up the staircase, asking eagerly where her father was.

The boy, seeing that the mother was not in, answered: “He is on the way. Come, let us go to meet him!” [ 188 ]

They hastened out. The youth led the way to a mountain, where he said: “My sister, I have sad news to tell you. A letter was sent to our father by the priest in whose charge he left you, saying that you were constantly running about the streets and had become a disgrace to the place. Upon hearing this he was made into another man. His grief and disappointment put the heart out of his body. He sent me here to kill you. And, to assure himself of my obedience, he commanded that I should dip your white garment in your blood and bring it to him with all speed. This—O, sister of mine!—is the reason for my coming.”

The girl was speechless when she heard these words, and even did not think to contradict the report. The boy hastened to kill a young lamb, which he found in a flock near-by, dipped the garment of his sister in the warm blood, and then said to her:

“Ai! my sister, this is our day of parting. It will be necessary for you to go into a strange land. And may Allah be with you! May he be your helper!”

They embraced each other and separated. The desolate girl wandered, weeping, from mountain to mountain, while the boy took the garment that had been dipped in lamb’s blood, and returned all the [ 189 ] long way to the Hejaz and gave it to his father, saying:

“Here, my father! Receive the bloody garment of your daughter, which I have brought in fulfillment of your command.”

“Now shall my house be saved from the tongue of slanderers!” were the only words of the father as he received the token which meant, to him, the death of his only daughter.

Let these remain here while we return to the wandering girl.

After walking and walking from one mountain to another, she came upon a spring, beside which grew a tree. She drank of the delicious water, then sat down in the shade of the tree to rest. But it was evident that wild animals were upon the mountain, and with the coming of evening the helpless girl wondered what she should do. As she looked about her, the tree seemed to lean down its branches as if in invitation. Taking this as a sign, she climbed near to its top and remained there that night.

Now, it so happened that the son of the king of that country had been hunting for ten days and nights. Upon the morning he came to the spring, dismounted, and led his horse down to drink. The horse was about to touch his lips to the water when [ 190 ] he saw the reflection of the young girl upon the surface, drew back suddenly, and would not be persuaded to drink. All the urging of his master was of no avail, although the prince knew that the poor creature was much in need of water.

The surprised young man glanced about him in wonder at the strange occurrence, when he caught sight of the girl, sitting in breathless fear of being discovered.

“Are you a maiden or a fairy?” he asked, his heart beating.

“I am only a maiden.”

“That is much better. May it please you to descend. And if you will do me the honor to accompany me to my father’s palace, this will be my ‘bag’ for to-day.”

After assisting the affrighted girl to the ground he took her upon the horse behind him, and together they rode to the home of the prince.

Strange as it may seem, the king was not angry when his son told the story of his rescue of the maiden, and asked permission to marry her.

“Let me see this strange game which you bring home after ten days of hunting, my son,” he asked, smiling. And the maiden, when brought into his presence, was so gentle and modest that he gave his consent to the wedding. [ 191 ]

Therefore, according to the will of Allah and the law of the Prophet, these two young people were married, and their wedding feast lasted forty days and forty nights.

In due course of time three children were born to them. This increased the happiness of the prince and his gratitude to Allah at having been led to the tree beside the spring upon the mountain.

We will leave these children while we attend to their mother, who had been made princess.

One day the memory of her own mother—who had so cherished her—came to her so strongly that tears, like drops of rain, began to flow from her eyes. The prince, coming in, saw her sorrow, and asked, with concern:

“Why do you grieve thus, my princess! Are you not happy with all I have done to make you so?”

“My lord, as I sat sewing to-day, I thought of my own mother. Desire to see her again wrings my heart.”

“Is your mother yet alive?” He asked this because he had respected the silence of his wife about her family, and had not questioned her before—feeling almost certain that some sad tragedy had come into her life. Therefore he asked, “Is your mother yet alive?” [ 192 ]

“Ai, my lord! I trust so; though it is long since we parted.”

Then the prince exclaimed: “Why have you not spoken of it until this moment? The desire of your heart shall be granted. Either we will bring your mother here or you shall go to her. Choose, my princess! We will do whichever your soul prefers.”

“My lord,” was the answer, “may Allah prolong your life and give you health and happiness! If you will grant permission, let me go to-morrow, with my children, and see her face once more, with my own eyes, and at the same time show her my three little sons.”

“It shall be so!” returned the prince. “I will send my vizier, with a number of soldiers, to conduct you and the children to your own mother.”

Morning came, and the prince, true to his promise, called his vizier and intrusted the princess to his care. Soon they were ready to set off—the mother, with her three children, in a carriage, the vizier on horseback, and a battalion of soldiers as escort.

But the princess was to meet other sorrows. They had not journeyed far when the vizier—who had not spoken a word—put his head in at the carriage window and asked, “Will you marry me, or shall I kill the children?” [ 193 ]

The princess was amazed beyond the power of speaking.

Then the vizier said: “Yes; certainly you will marry me. We will not return to the prince. I have suborned these soldiers. They will obey my commands. I have gold. We can go into another country. There is no reason why this should not be.”

But the princess refused. Then the vizier seized one of the children, killed it, and threw it beside the road.

After some time he repeated his question, received the same answer, and, notwithstanding the entreaties of the princess, took the second child, and, later on, the third. The poor woman was in despair.

Then the vizier said to her, “Verily, I will kill you, too, unless you will become my wife.”

“I pray you to give me half an hour’s grace in which to perform my ablutions and say my prayers. There must be a spring by that tree yonder.”

“Very well, it is granted,” said the vizier.

He ordered the carriage to halt, tied a rope around her waist—so that she could not escape—and permitted her to go as she had requested.

The princess went to the spring, untied the rope, fastened it about the tree, and fled around to the other side of the mountain. [ 194 ]

After some time the vizier pulled the rope; but, as it did not yield, he thought the princess was saying her prayers, and waited. After a while he said to himself: “It has been more than a half hour. What an interminable prayer she is saying! I will go and see about this.”

As he went over the little knoll, which had hid the princess from him, he discovered that his prey had escaped. Wild with anger, he turned about and made all haste to the palace, where he said to the prince:

“My lord, as we were resting by the way, Her Royal Highness, the princess, took her sons and stole away from the carriage. Is it not true, O, my prince! that no good thing can be expected from a wild mountain girl? That which comes from the mountains will return to them.”

When the prince received this news his mind took leave of his body and he fell down in a faint. Upon recovering he went into mourning, as if for the death of his wife and children.

Let these stay here while we inquire into the fate of the second-time wanderer.

Again did she go on and on, from mountain to mountain, weeping bitterly over the loss of her beloved children. She felt in her heart that a return [ 195 ] to her husband would be futile, because the cruel vizier would have filled his mind with falsehoods. After long wandering she came into her own country, where she disguised herself, and, entering the market place, came upon a shop that was almost in ruins. It belonged to an aged maker of sweets.

After greeting him courteously she asked, “Father, will you take me as an apprentice lad?”

“Ai, my son!” was the sad answer, “look about you and see! I cannot earn sufficient for myself. How can I give wages to another? Besides, with my other woes, I have forgotten how to make the sweets!”

Then the young woman answered gently: “Father, I ask no wages from you. If you will permit, I will work as best I can, and whatever Allah kindly sends to us we will live upon together.”

When the aged vendor of sweets heard these pious words, his heart was touched. “Surely this lad has felt affliction,” he said to himself. Then unto her: “Very well, my son. Come with me, if thou wilt.”

The new apprentice kissed her master’s hand and entered the shop. After a little, she rolled up her sleeves, went to the stove, and began to make candy, as she had done when a little girl in her own [ 196 ] home. This labor brought such sad thoughts that it was with great difficulty she could refrain from weeping aloud.

When the candy was finished she placed a portion before her master. He tasted a bit and said, in surprise: “Ai, my son! these sweets are very good. Peace be to your hands! May Allah keep you from further harm!”

After this commendation of her work, the apprentice washed off the stone, which served as a counter for the display of the goods, and arranged the sweets upon it. Customers who were passing, paused to note the beauty of the candy-maker’s lad, and, although they had no thought of buying, were impelled to do so. They found the sweets so delicious that all who purchased once were sure to come again. In short, the fame of the candy-maker’s apprentice and of the sweets which she compounded was spread abroad, by those who traveled that way, until it reached all lands.

Let her stay here, engaged in her new work, while we return to the prince.

One day, while thinking of his wife and children, he began—as at other times—to sigh; and the tears fell, like rain, from his eyes. Arousing himself, he sent for his vizier, to whom he said: “My heart [ 197 ] is breaking for Her Highness, the princess. Surely I must find her or kill myself!”

The wicked vizier was alarmed at this and answered: “My prince, the woman did not care for you. She left you and ran to the mountains. All those tears for her mother were only a part of the plot to run away. How, then, can you desire her?”

But, however much the vizier said—and he added much more—it made no impression upon the intentions of his master; who commanded that preparations should be made, with all speed, and that they should enter upon the search without delay.

Accordingly they started toward the mountains. The vizier did not lead the way past the spot where the princess escaped; but went on and on, in order to save himself. Thus it was that they entered the country from which the girl had fled, at first, when her father would have had her killed.

Being very hungry, they asked a child if there were not some cook’s shop in the neighborhood.

“No, my lords!” answered the child. “There is no cook’s shop near. But a little farther on is a candy-maker, whose apprentice makes such sweets that no one is able to equal them.”

“Let us go there!” commanded the prince; and, accordingly, they went on until they reached the shop. [ 198 ]

When the princess saw her husband and the vizier coming, she recognized them at once; but, pulling her cap over her eyes, she hid herself from them.

The prince addressed her: “Candy-maker, I pray you, give us a few cents’ worth of sweets!”

To which the princess made answer: “My masters, if you will deign to become our guests for the night, I will make you such a batch of sweets as you have never tasted, and will tell you an amusing story besides.”

When the prince heard these kind words, from one in a strange land, he was gratified and answered: “That will do very well. We will stay.”

Thereupon the prince and the vizier gave their horses to the groom, entered the candy shop, and sat down.

Let them stay there while we come to the people in the town.

Now, it seems that the evening of this very day had been chosen by the people, upon which to have a grand candy festival. They were wondering who should make the necessary sweets, when some one suggested that they try to persuade the candy-maker’s apprentice to put aside the regular customers of the shop and work for them during that evening. [ 199 ]

Accordingly, several of the men went to the shop and asked the apprentice if she would go with them to their quarters and prepare candy for the people, who had sent out invitations for a grand festival that evening.

“I am your servants, gentlemen,” replied the apprentice, “but we have guests this evening. It is not fitting that I should leave them.”

To which the men answered pleadingly: “O, master candy-maker, let us persuade your guests to accompany you. There is room, over our heads, for all.”

Whereupon the apprentice, turning to the guests, said: “My masters, we are invited to a candy festival. If you like, we will go. These gentlemen promise that you will be amused.”

The prince was pleased with anything that might lead him to forget his grief for a little, and readily agreed to the proposal. The aged candy-maker expressed willingness to look after the shop alone; and the prince, the vizier, and the apprentice accompanied the men to the place of the festival.

Upon reaching it, the prince and the vizier were conducted up the stairs into the grand reception room; while the apprentice remained below to attend to her duties.

When the sweets were finished she gave portions [ 200 ] to all guests, who were in the rooms leading from the garden, and then went up the stairs with her brazier of coals and kettle of candy.

She had barely entered the great upper room when she discovered, not only the prince and his vizier, but men from her native quarter of the town assembled there; among them were her father, her brother, and the priest who had wrought her so much evil.

She hid her consternation under assumed activity, placed the pot of coals in the middle of the room, and busied herself with preparing the candy. Presently she said:

“My masters, why do you sit silent? It was promised me that there would be amusement here. Let everyone relate any anecdote that comes to him; thus may you be enabled to find enjoyment and rid me of the embarrassment of having so many eyes fixed upon my work.”

The restraint, which had been upon all the guests, was removed by this hint from the apprentice. They immediately began to relate stories from the outside world—everyone telling that which first occurred to his memory. After they had amused themselves in this way for some time, one of them cried out:

“Ai, you apprentice! Since you are the one who [ 201 ] set us to talking, now, yourself, tell us a story and let us listen!”

“My masters,” answered she, “I have one habit. Whenever I tell a story I do not permit anyone to leave the room. So if anyone here wishes to go without, let him do so before I begin.”

At this they all cried out that no one wished to leave. So the apprentice sat down directly in front of the door and began.

First she related the story of the bath house, and all the while the priest was listening. As he became assured that he was about to be discovered, he made believe that he was ill and arose to go, crying out:

“My head! O, my head!”

“Keep your seat, fellow!” commanded the narratress. At which all the others said the same.

Then she told the story of the vizier to whom was intrusted a princess and her three children. The prince, listening but not knowing that it was the story of his own wife and children, felt his eyes grow full.

The people were all touched by the two stories; and when the teller felt assured that they were aroused to the necessary pitch, she arose and said:

“O, my people! Be it known that I am that twice-wronged one. My enemies are this priest and this vizier. This is my father; this, my brother; and [ 202 ] this”—here she fell upon her knees before him—“O! this is my prince and husband!”

When she had said this she went forward, and the prince covered her with his mantle; while the rest of the company sat quiet, biting their fingers to learn whether, indeed, they were waking.

When the prince could command himself, and the people had become assured of the truth of these stories, they took the priest and the vizier away and put them to death.

The princess kissed the hands of her father and brother, embraced her mother, who, hearing of the matter, had come, trembling, to learn if it were true; and, after a few days, returned to the palace with her beloved, true prince.

They were married over again, with festivities which lasted forty days and forty nights. They also had their hearts’ desire in the gift of children, to take the place of those who had been lost. Salaam! [ 203 ]