Chapter III: Part 3

Sir --There was a very ancient fisherman, so poor, that he could scarce earn enough to maintain himself, his wife, and three children. He went every day to fish betimes in a morning; and imposed it as a law upon himself, not to cast his nets above four times a day. He went one morning by moonlight, and coming to the sea-side, undressed himself, and cast in his nets. As he drew them towards the shore, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a good draught of fish, at which he rejoiced within himself; but in a moment after perceiving, that, instead of fish, there was nothing in his nets but the carcass of an ass, he was much vexed. Scheherazade stopped here, because she saw it was day.

Sister, says Dinarzade, I must confess, that the beginning of the story charms me, and I foresee that the result of it will be very agreeable. There is nothing more surprising than the story of this fisherman, replied the sultaness; and you will be convinced of it next night, if the sultan will be so gracious as to let me live. --Schahriar being curious to hear the success of such an extraordinary fishing, would not order Scheherazade to be put to death that day.

NINTH NIGHT.

My dear sister, cried Dinarzade, next morning, at the usual hour, if you be not asleep, I pray you go on with the story of the fisherman; I am ready to die till I hear it. I am willing to give you that satisfaction, says the sultaness: but, at the same time she demanded leave of the sultan, and having obtained it, began the story again as follows:

Sir, when the fisherman, vexed to have made such a sorry draught, had mended his nets, which the carcass of the ass had broken in several places, he threw them in a second time; and when he drew them, found a great deal of resistance, which made him think he had taken abundance of fish; but he found nothing except a basket full of gravel and slime, which grieved him extremely. O, fortune! cries he, with a lamentable tone, be not angry with me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare him. I came hither from my house to seek for my livelihood, and thou pronouncest death against me. I have no other trade but this to subsist by; and, notwithstanding all the pains I take, I can scarcely provide what is absolutely necessary for my family. But I am to blame to complain of thee; thou takest pleasure to persecute honest people, and to leave great men in obscurity, while thou showest favour to the wicked, and advancest those who have no virtue to recommend them.

Having finished this complaint, he threw away the basket in a fret, and washing his nets from the slime, cast them the third time; but brought up nothing, except stone, shells, and mud. Nobody can express his disorder; he was almost beside himself. However, when day began to appear, he did not forget to say his prayers, like a good Mussulman, and afterwards added this petition: “Lord, thou knowest that I cast my nets only four times a day; I have already drawn them three times, without the least reward for my labour: I am only to cast them once more; I pray thee to render the sea favourable to me, as thou didst to Moses.”

The fisherman having finished this prayer, cast his nets the fourth time; and when he thought it was time, he drew them as formerly, with great difficulty; but instead of fish, found nothing in them but a vessel of yellow copper, which, by its weight, seemed to be full of something; and he observed that it was shut up and sealed with lead, having the impression of a seal upon it. This rejoiced him: I will sell it, says he, to the founder, and with the money arising from the produce, buy a measure of corn. He examined the vessel on all sides, and shook it, to see if what was within made any noise, but heard nothing. This circumstance, with the impression of the seal upon the leaden cover, made him think there was something precious in it. To try this he took a knife, and opened it with very little labour. He presently turned the mouth downward, but nothing came out; which surprised him extremely. He set it before him, and while he looked upon it attentively, there came out a very thick smoke, which obliged him to retire two or three paces from it.

The smoke ascended to the clouds, and extending itself along the sea and upon the shore, formed a great mist, which, we may well imagine, did mightily astonish the fisherman. When the smoke was all out of the vessel, it re-united itself, and became a solid body, of which there was formed a genie twice as high as the greatest of giants. At the sight of a monster of such an unsizeable bulk, the fisherman would fain have fled, but was so frightened that he could not go one step.

Solomon, cried the genie immediately, Solomon, the great prophet, pardon, pardon; I will never more oppose your will, I will obey all your commands.--

Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.

Upon which Dinarzade said, Dear sister, nobody can keep their promise better than you have done yours. This story is certainly more surprising than all the former. Sister, replies the sultaness, there are more wonderful things yet to come, if my lord the sultan will allow me to tell them to you. Schahriar had too great a desire to hear out the story of the fisherman, to deprive himself of that pleasure; and therefore put off the sultaness’s death another day.

TENTH NIGHT.

Dinarzade called her sister next night, when she thought it was time, and prayed her to continue the story of the fisherman; and the sultan being also impatient to know what concern the genie had with Solomon, Scheherazade continued her story thus:

Sir, the fisherman, when he heard these words of the genie, recovered his courage, and said to him, Proud spirit, what is it that you say? It is above eighteen hundred years since the prophet Solomon died, and we are now at the end of time. Tell me your history, and how you came to be shut up in this vessel.

The genie, turning to the fisherman, with a fierce look, says, you must speak to me with more civility; thou art very bold to call me a proud spirit. Very well, replies the fisherman, shall I speak to you with more civility, and call you the owl of good luck? I say, answers the genie, speak to me more civilly before I kill thee. Ah! replies the fisherman, why would you kill me? Did not I just now set you at liberty, and have you already forgotten it? Yes, I remember it, says the genie, but that shall not hinder me from killing thee: I have only one favour to grant thee. And what is that? says the fisherman. It is, answers the genie, to give thee thy choice, in what manner thou wouldst have me take thy life. But wherein have I offended you? replies the fisherman. Is that your reward for the good services I have done you? I cannot treat you otherwise, says the genie; and that you may be convinced of it, hearken to my story.

I am one of those rebellious spirits that opposed the will of Heaven; all the other genii owned Solomon, the great prophet, and submitted to him. Sacar and I were the only genii that would never be guilty of a mean thing: and, to avenge himself, that great monarch sent Asaph, the son of Barakhia, his chief minister, to apprehend me. That was accordingly done. Asaph seized my person, and brought me by force before his master’s throne.

Solomon, the son of David, commanded me to quit my way of living, to acknowledge his power, and to submit myself to his command; I bravely refused to obey, and told him, I would rather expose myself to his resentment, than swear fealty, and submit to him, as he required. To punish me, he shut me up in this copper vessel; and to make sure of me, that I should not break prison, he himself stamped upon this leaden cover his seal, with the great name of God engraved upon it. Then he gave the vessel to one of the genii who submitted to him, with orders to throw me into the sea, which was executed to my sorrow.

During the first hundred years imprisonment, I swore that if any one would deliver me before the hundred years expired, I would make him rich, even after his death: but that century ran out, and nobody did me that good office. During the second, I made an oath, that I would open all the treasures of the earth to any one that should set me at liberty; but with no better success. In the third, I promised to make my deliverer a potent monarch, to be always near him in spirit, and to grant him every day three requests, of what nature soever they might be: but this century ran out as well as the two former, and I continued in prison. At last, being angry, or rather mad, to find myself a prisoner so long, I swore, that if afterwards any one should deliver me, I would kill him without mercy, and grant him no other favour but to choose what kind of death he would die; and, therefore, since you have delivered me to-day, I give you that choice.

This discourse afflicted the poor fisherman extremely; I am very unfortunate, cries he, to come hither to do such a piece of good service to one that is so ungrateful. I beg you to consider your injustice, and revoke such an unreasonable oath: pardon me, and heaven will pardon you; if you grant me my life, heaven will protect you from all attempts against yours. No, thy death is resolved on, says the genie, only choose how you will die. The fisherman, perceiving the genie to be resolute, was extremely grieved, not so much for himself, as for his three children; and bewailed the misery they must be reduced to by his death. He endeavoured still to appease the genie, and says, Alas! be pleased to take pity on me, in consideration of the good service I have done you. I have told thee already, replies the genie, it is for that very reason I must kill thee. That is very strange, says the fisherman, are you resolved to reward good with evil? The proverb says, “That he who does good to one who deserves it not, is always ill rewarded.” I must confess, I thought it was false; for in effect there can be nothing more contrary to reason, or the laws of society. Nevertheless, I find now by cruel experience, that it is but too true. Do not lose time, replies the genie; all thy reasoning shall not divert me from my purpose: make haste and tell me which way you choose to die.

Necessity is the mother of invention. The fisherman bethought himself of a stratagem. Since I must die, then, says he to the genie, I submit to the will of heaven; but before I choose the manner of death, I conjure you by the great name which was engraven upon the seal of the prophet Solomon, the son of David, to answer me truly the question I am going to ask you.

The genie finding himself obliged to a positive answer by this abjuration, trembled; and replied to the fisherman, Ask what thou wilt, but make haste. Day appearing, Scheherazade held her peace.

Sister, says Dinarzade, it must be owned that the more you speak, the more you surprise and satisfy. I hope our lord, the sultan, will not order you to be put to death, till he hears out the fine story of the fisherman. The sultan is absolute, replies Scheherazade, we must submit to his will in every thing. But Schahriar being as willing as Dinarzade to hear an end of the story, did again put off the execution of the sultaness.

ELEVENTH NIGHT.

Schahriar, and the princess his spouse, passed this night in the same manner as they had done the former; and before break of day, Dinarzade awaked them with these words, addressed to the sultaness: I pray you, sister, to resume the story of the fisherman. With all my heart, said Scheherazade, I am willing to satisfy you, with the sultan’s permission.

The genie, continued she, having promised to speak the truth, the fisherman says to him, --I would know if you were actually in this vessel: dare you swear it by the name of the great God? Yes, replied the genie, I do swear by that great name that I was, and it is a certain truth. In good faith, answered the fisherman, I cannot believe you; the vessel is not capable of holding one of your feet, and how should it be possible that your whole body could lie in it? I swear to thee, notwithstanding, replied the genie, that I was there just as you see me here: Is it possible, that thou dost not believe me after this great oath that I have taken? Truly, not I, said the fisherman; nor will I believe you, unless you show it me.

Upon which the body of the genic was dissolved, and changed itself into smoke, extending itself as formerly upon the sea and shore: and then at last being gathered together, it began to re-enter the vessel, which it continued to do successively by a slow and equal motion, after a smooth and exact way, till nothing was left out; and immediately, a voice came forth, which said to the fisherman, Well, now, incredulous fellow, I am all in the vessel, do not you believe me now.

The fisherman, instead of answering the genie, took the cover of lead, and having speedily shut the vessel, Genie, cries he, now it is your turn to beg my favour, and to choose which way I shall put you to death; but not so, it is better that I should throw you into the sea, whence I took you: and then I will build a house upon the bank, where I will dwell, to give notice to all fishermen who come to throw in their nets, to beware of such a wicked genie as thou art, who hast made an oath to kill him that shall set thee at liberty.

The genie, enraged at those expressions, did all he could to get out of the vessel again; but it was not possible for him to do it; for the impression of Solomon’s seal prevented him. So perceiving that the fisherman had got the advantage of him, he thought fit to dissemble his anger; Fisherman, said he, in a pleasant tone, take heed you do not do what you say, for what I spoke to you before was only by way of jest, and you are to take it no otherwise. O, genie! replies the fisherman, thou who wast but a moment ago the greatest of all genie, and now art the least of them, thy crafty discourse will signify nothing to thee, but to the sea thou shalt return. If thou hast staid there already so long as thou hast told me, thou mayst very well stay there till the day of judgment. I begged of thee in God’s name, not to take away my life, and thou didst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat thee in the same manner.

The genie omitted nothing that could prevail upon the fisherman; Open the vessel, says he, give me my liberty, I pray thee, and I promise to satisfy thee to thy own content. Thou art a mere traitor, replies the fisherman; I should deserve to lose my life, if I were such a fool as to trust thee; thou wilt not fail to treat me in the same manner as a certain Grecian king treated the physician Douban. It is a story I have a mind to tell thee, therefore listen to it.

The Story of the Grecian King and the Physician Douban.

There was in the country of Zouman, in Persia, a king, whose subjects were originally Greeks. This king was all over leprous, and his physicians in vain endeavoured his cure; and when they were at their wits end what to prescribe to him, a very able physician, called Douban, arrived at his court.

This physician had learned his science in Greek, Persian, Turkish, Arabian, Latin, Syriac, and Hebrew books; and besides that, he was an expert philosopher, and fully understood the good and bad qualities of all sorts of plants and drugs. As soon as he was informed of the king’s distemper, and understood that his physicians had given him over, he clad himself in the best habits he could procure, and found means to present himself to the king. Sir, says he, I know that all your majesty’s physicians have not been able to cure you the leprosy; but if you will do me the honour to accept my service, I will engage myself to cure you without potions, or external applications.

The king listened to what he said, and answered, If you be able to perform what you do promise, I will enrich you and your posterity; and besides the presents I shall make you, you shall be my chief favourite. Do you assure me, then, that you will cure me of my leprosy, without making me take any potion, or applying any external medicine? Yes, sir, replies the physician; I promise myself success, through God’s assistance, and to-morrow I will make trial of it.

The physician returned to his quarters, and made a mallet, hollow within, and at the handle he put in his drugs: he made also a ball in such a manner as suited his purpose, with which, next morning, he went to present himself before the king, and falling down at his feet, kissed the ground. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day, acquainted the sultan with it, and held her peace.

I wonder, sister, says Dinarzade, where you learn so many fine things. You shall hear a great many others to-morrow, replies Scheherazade, if the sultan, my master, will be pleased to prolong my life farther. Schahriar, who longed as much as Dinarzade, to hear the sequel of the story of Douban, the physician, did not order the sultaness to be put to death that day.

TWELFTH NIGHT.

The twelfth night was far advanced, when Dinarzade called, and says, sister, you owe us the continuation of the agreeable history of the Grecian king and the physician Douban. I am very willing to pay my debt, replied Scheherazade, and resumed the story as follows:

Sir, the fisherman, speaking always to the genie, whom he kept shut up in the vessel, went on thus. The physician Douban rose up, and after a profound reverence, says to the king, he judged it meet that his majesty should take horse, and go to the place where he used to play at mall. [1] The king did so, and when he arrived there, the physician came to him with the mall, and says to him, Sir, exercise yourself with this mall, and strike the ball with it until you find your hands and your body in a sweat. When the medicine I have put up in the handle of the mall, is heated with your hand, it will penetrate your whole body; and as soon as you shall sweat, you may leave off the exercise, for then the medicine will have had its effect. As soon as you are returned to your palace, go into the bath, and cause yourself to be well washed and rubbed; then go to bed, and when you rise to-morrow you will find yourself cured.

The king took the mall, and struck the ball, which was returned by his officers that played with him; he struck it again, and played so long, that his hand and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the medicine shut up in the handle of the mall had its operation, as the physician said. Upon this the king left off play, returned to his palace, entered the bath, and observed very exactly what his physician had prescribed him.

He was very well after it, and next morning, when he arose, he perceived, with equal wonder and joy, that his leprosy was cured, and his body as clean as if he had never been attacked with that distemper. As soon as he was dressed, he came into the hall of audience, where he ascended his throne, and showed himself to his courtiers, who, eager to know the success of the new medicine, came thither betimes; and, when they saw the king perfectly cured, did all express great joy. The physician Douban entered the hall, and bowed himself before the throne, with his face to the ground. The king, perceiving him, called him, made him sit down by his side, showed him to the assembly, and gave him all the commendation he deserved. His majesty did not stop here; but, as he treated all his court that day, he made him eat at his table alone with him. At these words, Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story. Sister, says Dinarzade, I know not what the conclusion of this story will be, but I find the beginning admirable. That which is to come is yet better, answered the sultaness; and I am certain you will not deny it, if the sultan gives me leave to make an end of it to-morrow night. Schahriar consented, and rose very well satisfied with what he had heard.

THIRTEENTH NIGHT.

Dinarzade, willing to keep the sultan in ignorance of her design, cried out as if she had started out of her sleep: O, dear sister, I have had a troublesome dream, and nothing will sooner make me forget it than the remainder of the story of the Grecian king and doctor Douban. I conjure you by the love you always bore me, not to defer it a moment longer. I shall not fail, good sister, to ease your mind; and if my sovereign will permit me, I will go on. Schahriar, being charmed with the agreeable manner of Scheherazade’s telling her stories, says to her, You will oblige me no less than Dinarzade, therefore continue. [2]

The Grecian king, says the fisherman to the genie, was not satisfied with having admitted the physician Douban to his table, but towards night, when he was about dismissing the company, he caused him to be clad in a long rich robe, like those which his favourites usually wore in his presence; and besides that he ordered him two thousand sequins. The next day and the day following, he continued his favour to him; in short, the prince, thinking that he could never enough acknowledge the obligations he lay under to that able physician, bestowed every day new favours upon him. But this king had a grand vizier, who was avaricious, envious, and naturally capable of all sort of mischief. He could not see, without envy, the presents that were given to the physician, whose other merits had already began to make him jealous, and therefore he resolved to lessen him in the king’s esteem. To effect this, he went to the king, and told him in private, that he had some advice to give him, which was of the greatest concern. The king having asked what it was, Sir, said he, it is very dangerous for a monarch to put confidence in a man whose fidelity he never tried. Though you heap favours upon the physician Douban, and show him all the familiarity that may be, your majesty does not know but he may be a traitor, and come on purpose to this court to kill you. From whom have you this, answered the king, that you dare to tell it me? Consider to whom you speak, and that you advance a thing which I shall not easily believe. Sir, replied the vizier, I am very well informed of what I have had the honour to represent to your majesty; therefore do not let your dangerous confidence grow to a farther height: if your majesty be asleep, be pleased to awake; for I once more repeat it, that the physician Douban did not leave the heart of Greece, his native country, nor come here to settle himself at your court, but to execute that horrible design which I have just now hinted to you.

No, no, vizier, replies the king; I am certain that this man, whom you treat as a villain, and a traitor, is one of the best and most virtuous men in the world, and there is no man I love so much. You know by what medicine, or rather by what miracle, he cured me of my leprosy; if he had a design upon my life, why did he save me? He needed only have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped it; my life was already half gone. Forbear, then, to fill me with unjust suspicions: instead of listening to you, I tell you, that from this day forward I will give that great man a pension of a thousand sequins per month for his life; nay, though I were to share with him all my riches and dominions, I should never pay him enough for what he has done for me: I perceive it to be his virtue which raises your envy; but do not think that I will be unjustly possessed with prejudice against him. I remember too well what a vizier said to king Sinbad, his master, to prevent his putting to death the prince, his son. But, sir, says Scheherazade, day light appears, which forbids me to go any further.

I am very well pleased that the Grecian king, says Dinarzade, had so much firmness of spirit, to reject the false accusation of the vizier. If you commend the firmness of that prince to-day, says Scheherazade, you will as much condemn his weakness to-morrow, if the sultan be pleased to allow me time to finish this story. The sultan, being curious to hear wherein the Grecian king discovered his weakness, did further delay the death of the sultaness.

FOURTEENTH NIGHT.

An hour before day, Dinarzade awaked her sister, and says to her, You will certainly be as good as your word, madam, and finish the story of the fisherman; to assist your memory, I will tell you where you left off: it was where the Grecian king maintained the innocence of his physician Douban against his vizier. I remember it, says Scheherazade, and am ready to give you satisfaction.

Sir, continues she, addressing herself to Schahriar, what the Grecian king said about king Sinbad raised the vizier’s curiosity, who says to him, sir, I pray your majesty to pardon me, if I have the boldness to ask what the vizier of king Sinbad said to his master to divert him from cutting off the prince, his son. The Grecian king had the complaisance to satisfy him: That vizier, says he, after having represented to king Sinbad, that he ought to beware, lest on the accusation of a mother-in-law, he should commit an action which he might afterwards repent of, told him this story.

The Story of the Husband and the Parrot.

A certain man had a beautiful wife, whom he loved so dearly, that he could scarce allow her to be out of his sight. One day being obliged to go abroad, about urgent affairs, he came to a place where all sorts of birds were sold, and there bought a parrot which not only spoke very well, but could also give an account of every thing that was done before it. He brought it in a cage to his house, desired his wife to put it in his chamber, and to take care of it during a journey he was obliged to undertake; and then went out.

At his return, he took care to ask the parrot concerning what had passed in his absence, and the bird told him things that gave him occasion to upbraid his wife. She thought some of her slaves had betrayed her, but all of them swore they had been faithful to her; and they all agreed that it must have been the parrot that had told tales.

Upon this, the wife bethought herself of a way how she might remove her husband’s jealousy, and at the same time revenge herself on the parrot, which she effected thus: her husband being gone another journey, she commanded a slave in the night-time to turn a hand-mill under the parrot’s cage; she ordered another to throw water, in form of rain, over the cage; and a third to take a looking-glass, and turn it to the right and to the left before the parrot by candle-light. The slaves spent great part of the night in doing what their mistress commanded them, and acquitted themselves very dexterously.

Next night the husband returned, and examined the parrot again about what had passed during his absence. The bird answered, Good master, the lightning, thunder, and rain, did so much disturb me all night, that I cannot tell how much I suffered by it. The husband, who knew that there had been neither thunder, lightning, nor rain, that night, fancied that the parrot, not having told him the truth in this, might also have lied to him in the other; upon which he took it out of the cage, and threw it with so much force to the ground that he killed it. Yet, afterwards, he understood by his neighbours, that the poor parrot had not lied to him, when it gave him an account of his wife’s base conduct, which made him repent he had killed it. Scheherazade stopped here, because she saw it was day.

All that you tell us, sister, says Dinarzade, is so curious, that nothing can be more agreeable. I shall be willing to divert you, answers Scheherazade, if the sultan, my master, will allow me time to do it. Schahriar, who took as much pleasure to hear the sultaness, as Dinarzade, rose and went about his affairs, without ordering the vizier to cut her off.

FIFTEENTH NIGHT.

Dinarzade was punctual this night, as she had been the former, to awaken her sister, and begged of her, as usual, to tell her a story. I am going to do it, sister, says Scheherazade: but the sultan interrupted her, for fear she should begin a new story, and bid her finish the discourse between the Grecian king and his vizier about his physician Douban. Sir, says Scheherazade, I will obey you; and went on with the story, as follows:

When the Grecian king, says the fisherman to the genie, had finished the story of the parrot; and you, vizier, adds he, because of the hatred you bear to the physician Douban, who never did you any hurt, you would have me cut him off; but I will take care of that, for fear I should repent it, as the husband did the killing of his parrot.

The mischievous vizier was too much concerned to effect the ruin of the physician Douban to stop here. Sir, says he, the death of the parrot was but a trifle, and, I believe, his master did not mourn for him long; but why should your fear of wronging an innocent man, hinder your putting this physician to death? Is it not enough to authorize you to take away his life, that he is accused of a design against your life? When the business in question is to secure the life of a king, bare suspicion ought to pass for certainty; and it is better to sacrifice the innocent than to spare the guilty. But, sir, this is not an uncertainty; the physician Douban has certainly a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes me his enemy; it is only my zeal, and the concern I have for preserving your majesty’s life, that makes me give you my advice in a matter of this importance. If it be false, I deserve to be punished in the same manner as a vizier was formerly punished. What had the vizier done, says the Grecian king, to deserve punishment? I will inform your majesty of that, says the vizier, if you will be pleased to hear me.

The Story of the Vizier that was punished.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SIXTEENTH NIGHT.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The head was so dexterously cut off, that it fell into the basin, and was no sooner laid upon the cover of the book, but the blood stopped; then, to the great surprise of the king, and all the spectators, it opened its eyes, and said, Sir, will your majesty be pleased to open the book? The king opened it, and finding that one leaf was as it were glued to another, that he might turn it with the more ease, he put his finger to his mouth, and wet it with spittle. He did so till he came to the 6th leaf, and finding no writing on the place where he was bid to look for it, Physician, says he to the head, there is nothing written. Turn over some more leaves, replies the head. The king continued to turn over, putting always his finger to his mouth, until the poison, with which each leaf was imbued, coming to have its effect, the prince finding himself all of a sudden taken with an extraordinary fit, his eye-sight failed, and he fell down at the foot of the throne, in violent convulsions. At these words, Scheherazade, perceiving day, gave the sultan notice of it, and forbore speaking. Ah, dear sister, says Dinarzade, how grieved am I that you have not time to finish the story: I should be inconsolable if you lose your life to-day. Sister, replies the sultaness, that must be as the sultan pleases; but I hope he will be so good as to suspend my death till to-morrow. And accordingly, Schahriar, far from ordering her death that day, expected the next night with much impatience; so earnest was he to hear out the story of the Grecian king, and the sequel of the fisherman and the genie.

SEVENTEENTH NIGHT.

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

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

Sir, continued Scheherazade, such was the end of the Grecian king and of the physician Douban. I must return now to the story of the fisherman and the genie; but it is day. The sultan, who always observed his hours regularly, got up; and wishing to hear the sequel of the story of the genie and the fisherman, bid the sultaness prepare to relate it to him the next night.

EIGHTEENTH NIGHT.

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

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

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

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

The genie swore to him, upon which the fisherman immediately took off the covering of the vessel. At that instant, the smoke ascended, and the genie having resumed his form, the first thing he did was to kick the vessel into the sea. This action alarmed the fisherman. Genie, said he, will not you keep the oath you just now made? And must I say to you, as the physician Douban said to the Grecian king, suffer me to live, and God will prolong your days.

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

When they reached the side of the lake, the genie said to the fisherman, Cast in thy nets, and catch fish; the fisherman did not doubt of taking some, because he saw a great number in the water; but he was extremely surprised, when he found they were of four colours, that is to say, white, red, blue, and yellow. He threw in his nets, and brought out one of each colour. Having never seen the like before, he could not but admire them, and judging that he might get a considerable sum for them, he was very joyful. Carry those fish, said the genie to him, and present them to thy sultan; he will give thee more money for them. Thou mayest come every day to fish in this lake; but I give thee warning not to throw in thy nets above once a day, otherwise thou wilt repent. Having spoken thus, he struck his foot upon the ground, which opened, and after it had swallowed him up, closed again.

The fisherman being resolved to follow the genie’s advice, forbore casting in his nets a second time; and returned to the town very well satisfied; and making a thousand reflections upon his adventure. He went immediately to the sultan’s palace, to offer his fish. But, sir, said Scheherazade, I perceive day, and must stop here.

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

NINETEENTH NIGHT.

Towards morning, Dinarzade called the sultaness, and said, Dear sister, it will be day speedily, therefore pray continue the history of the fisherman; I am extremely impatient to know what the issue of it was. Scheherazade having demanded permission, resumed her discourse as follows: I leave it to your majesty to think how much the sultan was surprised, when he saw the four fish which the fisherman presented. He took them up one after another, and viewed them with attention; and after having admired them a long time, Take those fish, said he to his vizier, and carry them to the cook, whom the emperor of the Greeks has sent me. I cannot imagine but that they must be as good as they are beautiful.