Chapter III: Part 3

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, that, 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 product, buy a measure of corn. He examined the vessel on all sides, and shook it, to see if what was within made any noise, and heard nothing. This circumstance, with the impression of the seal upon the leaden cover, made him to 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.

This smoke mounted as high as 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 reunited 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 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 it day, broke off her story.

Upon which Dinarzade said, Dear sister, nobody can keep their promise better than you can keep yours. This story is certainly more surprising than 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 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.

The 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 says to him, Thou proud spirit, what is this that you talk? 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. I have only one favour to grant thee. And what is that, says the fisherman? It is, answers the genie, to give you your choice in what manner you wouldst have me to take thy life. But wherein have I offended you, replies the fisherman? Is this the reward for the good service 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 themselves to the will of Heaven; all the other genies owned Solomon, the great prophet, and submitted to him. Sacar and I were the only genies that would never be guilty of so mean a thing: And, to avenge himself, that great monarch sent Asaph, the son of Barakia, 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 commands: 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 stamped (himself) upon this leaden cover his seal, with the great name God engraven upon it. Thus he gave the vessel to one of the genies that submitted to him, with orders to throw it into the sea, which was executed to my great sorrow.

During the first hundred years imprisonment, I swore that if 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 would 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 demands, 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 pity, 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 for 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 let us 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 give a positive answer by this adjuration, 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 the sultan, our lord, 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 Shahriar, being as willing as Dinarzade to hear an end of the story, did again put off the execution of the sultaness.

The Eleventh Night.

Shahriar, 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, which she addressed to the sultaness: I pray you, sister, to resume the story of the fisherman. With all my heart, says 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 to hold one of your feet, and how should it be possible that your whole body could be 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 the great oath which 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 genie was dissolved, and changed itself into smoke, extending itself, as formerly, upon the sea-shore; and then at last, being gathered together, it began to reenter the vessel, which he 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 thee 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 who shall set thee at liberty.

The genie, enraged at these 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, says he, in a pleasant tone, take heed you do not what you say; for what I spoke 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 genies, and now art the least of them, thy crafty discourse will signify nothing to thee, but to the sea thou shalt return: If thou hadst staid in the sea so long as thou hast told me, thou mayst very well stay there till the day of judgment. I begged thee, in God's name, not to take away my life, and thou didst reject my prayers; I am obliged to treat you 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 be 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 him, a very able physician, called Douban, arrived at his court.

This physician had learned his science in Greek, Persian, Turkish, Arabian, Latin, Syrian, and Hebrew books; and, besides that he was an expert philosopher, he 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 the best he could, and found a way to present himself to the king: Sir, says he, I know that all your majesty's physicians have not been able to cure you of the leprosy; but if you will do me the honour to accept my service, I will engage myself to cure you without drenches or external applications.

The king listened to what he said, and answered, if you are able to perform what you 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 very ground. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day, acquainted the sultan with it, and held her peace.

I wonder, sister, says Dinarzade, where you learn so many things. You will hear a great many others to-morrow, re-* 045.txt---------------------------- plies Scheherazade, if the sultan, my master, will be pleased to prolong my life further, 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.

THE TWELFTH NIGHT.

The twelfth night was pretty 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, replies Scheherazade, and resumed the story as follows.

Sir, the fisherman, speaking always to the genie, whom he kept shut up in his 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 the mell. The king did so, and when he arrived there, the physician came to him with the mell, and says to him, Sir, exercise yourself with this mell, and strike the ball with it until you find your hands and your body in a sweat. When the medicine I have put in the handle of the mell 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 mell, and struck the ball, which was returned by his officers that played with him; he struck it again, and played so long, till his hand and his whole body were in a sweat, and then the medicine shut up in the handle of the mell 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; and next morning, when he arose, he perceived, with as much wonder as 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 public audience, where he mounted his throne, and showed himself to his courtiers, who, longing to know the success of the new medicine, came thither betimes, and, when they saw the king perfectly cured, did all of them express a mighty joy for it. The physician Douban, entering the hall, bowed himself before the throne wiih 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 to eat at his table atone 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 very surprising. 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. Shahriar consented, and rose very well satisfied with what he had heard.

The Thirteenth Night.

Dinarzade, willing to keep the sultan in ignorance of her design, cried out, as if she had started out of her sleep, 0 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 the doctor Douban. I conjure you, by the love you always bore me, not to defer it a moment longer. I shall not be wanting, 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 story, says to her, You will oblige me no less than Dinarzade, therefore continue.

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 unto 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 was very familiar with him. In short, this 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 that was avaricious, envious, and naturally capable of all sorts of mischief; he could not see, without envy, the presents that were given to the physician, whose other merits had begun 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 concernment. 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 at the same time, and came on purpose to this court to kill you. From whom have you this, answered the king, that you dare 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 further height; if your majesty be asleep, be pleased to awake; for I do once more repeat it, that the physician Douban did not leave the heart of Greece, his country, nor come hither to settle himself at your court, but to execute that horrid 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 to have left me to my disease; I could not have escaped; my life was already half gone; forbear, then, to fill me with any 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 did share with him all my riches and dominions, I should never pay him enough for what he has done me; I perceive it to be his virtue that 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 further.

I am very well pleased that the Grecian king, says Dinarzade, had so much firmness of spirit as to reject the false accusation of his 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.

The 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 tell us out 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, that which 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 demand of you 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 PARROT.

A certain man had a fair wife, whom he loved so dearly that he could scarcely 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, prayed his wife to put it in the 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 glass, and turn it to the right and to the left before the parrot, so as the reflections of the candle might shine on its face. 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 that 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.

The Fifteenth Night.

Dinarzade was punctual this night, as she had been the former, to awake 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 that he is accused of a design against your life to authorize you to take away his? 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 uncertain thing; the physician Douban has certainly a mind to assassinate you. It is not envy which makes me his enemy; it is only the zeal and concern I have for preserving your majesty's life, that make 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 that 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 mightily. He allowed him to divert himself that way very often, but gave orders to his grand vizier to attend him constantly, and never to lose sight of him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Sixteenth Night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Seventeenth Night.

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

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

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

The Eighteenth Night.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Nineteenth Night.

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

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

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

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

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