Part 3

Meanwhile, the ox was mightily pleased; he ate up all that was in the stall, and rested himself the whole day. He rejoiced that he had followed the ass’s advice, blessed him a thousand times for the kindness he had done him, and did not fail to express his obligation when the ass had returned. The ass made no reply, so vexed was he at the ill-treatment he had received; but he said within himself, It is by my own imprudence I have brought this misfortune upon myself. I lived happily, every thing smiled upon me; I had all that I could wish; it is my own fault that I am brought to this miserable condition; and if I cannot contrive some way to get out of it, I am certainly undone. As he spoke, his strength was so much exhausted that he fell down in his stall, as if he had been half dead.

Here the grand vizier addressed himself to Scheherazade, and said, Daughter, you act just like this ass; you will expose yourself to destruction by your erroneous policy. Take my advice, remain quiet, and do not seek to hasten your death. Father, replied Scheherazade, the example you have set before me will not induce me to change my resolution. I will never cease importuning you until you present me to the sultan as his bride. The vizier, perceiving that she persisted in her demand, replied, Alas! then, since you will continue obstinate, I shall be obliged to treat you in the same manner as the merchant whom I before referred to, treated his wife a short time after.

The merchant understanding that the ass was in a lamentable condition, was desirous of knowing what passed between him and the ox, therefore, after supper he went out by moonlight, and sat down by them, his wife bearing him company. After his arrival, he heard the ass say to the ox, Comrade, tell me, I pray you, what you intend to do to-morrow, when the labourer brings you meat? What will I do! replied the ox, I will continue to act as you taught me. I will draw back from him and threaten him with my horns, as I did yesterday: I will feign myself ill, and at the point of death. Beware of that, replied the ass, it will ruin you; for as I came home this evening, I heard the merchant, our master, say something that makes me tremble for you. Alas! what did you hear? demanded the ox; as you love me, withhold nothing from me, my dear Sprightly. Our master, replied the ass, addressed himself thus to the labourer: Since the ox does not eat and is not able to work, I would have him killed to-morrow, and we will give his flesh as an alms to the poor for God’s sake; as for the skin that will be of use to us, and I would have you give it the currier to dress; therefore be sure to send for the butcher. This is what I had to tell you, said the ass. The interest I feel in your preservation, and my friendship for you, obliged me to make it known to you, and to give you new advice. As soon as they bring you your bran and straw, rise up, and eat heartily. Our master will by this think that you are recovered, and no doubt will recall his orders for killing you; but, if you act otherwise, you will certainly he slaughtered.

This discourse had the effect which the ass designed. The ox was greatly alarmed, and bellowed for fear. The merchant, who heard the conversation very attentively, fell into a loud fit of laughter. His wife was greatly surprised, and asked, Pray, husband, tell me what you laugh at so heartily, that I may laugh with you. Wife, replied he, you must content yourself with hearing me laugh. No, returned she, I will know the reason. I cannot afford you that satisfaction, answered he, and can only inform you that I laugh at what our ass just now said to the ox. The rest is a secret, which I am not allowed to reveal. What, demanded she, hinders you from revealing the secret? If I tell it you, replied he, I shall forfeit my life. You only jeer me, cried his wife; what you would have me believe cannot be true. If you do not directly satisfy me as to what you laugh at, and tell me what the ox and the ass said to one another, I swear by heaven that you and I shall never bed together again.

Having spoken thus, she went into the house, and seating herself in a corner, cried there all night. Her husband lay alone, and finding next morning that she continued in the same humour, told her, she was very foolish to afflict herself in that manner; that the thing was not worth so much; that it concerned her very little to know, while it was of the utmost consequence to him to keep the secret: therefore, continued he, I conjure you to think no more of it. I shall still think so much of it, replied she, as never to forbear weeping till you have satisfied my curiosity. But I tell you very seriously, answered he, that it will cost me my life if I yield to your indiscreet solicitations. Let what will happen, said she, I do insist upon it. I perceive, resumed the merchant, that it is impossible to bring you to reason, and since I foresee that you will occasion your own death by your obstinacy, I will call in your children, that they may see you before you die. Accordingly he called for them, and sent for her father and mother, and other relations. When they were come, and heard the reason of their being summoned, they did all they could to convince her that she was in the wrong, but to no purpose: she told them that she would rather die than yield that point to her husband. Her father and mother spoke to her, and told her that what she desired to know was of no importance to her; but they could produce no effect upon her, either by their authority or entreaties. When her children saw that nothing would prevail to draw her out of that sullen temper, they wept bitterly. The merchant himself was half frantic, and almost ready to risk his own life to save that of his wife, whom he sincerely loved.

Now, my daughter, continued the vizier to Scheherazade, this merchant had fifty hens, and one cock, with a dog, that gave good heed to all that passed. While the merchant was, as I said, considering what he had best do, he saw his dog run towards the cock as he was treading a hen, and heard him say to him: Cock, I am sure heaven will not let you live long; are you not ashamed to act thus to-day? The cock standing up on tiptoe, answered fiercely: and why not to-day as well as other days? If you do not know, replied the dog, then I will tell you, that this day our master is in great perplexity. His wife would have him reveal a secret which is of such a nature, that the disclosure would cost him his life. Things are come to that pass, that it is to be feared he will scarcely have resolution enough to resist his wife’s obstinacy; for he loves her, and is affected by the tears she continually sheds. We are all alarmed at his situation, while you only insult our melancholy, and have the impudence to divert yourself with your hens.

The cock answered the dog’s reproof thus: What, has our master so little sense? he has but one wife, and cannot govern her, and though I have fifty I make them all do what I please. Let him use his reason, he will soon find a way to get rid of his trouble. How? demanded the dog; what would you have him to do? Let him go into the room where his wife is, resumed the cock, lock the door, and take a stick and thrash her well; and I will answer for it, that will bring her to her senses, and make her forbear to importune him to discover what he ought not to reveal. The merchant had no sooner heard what the cock said, than he took up a stick, went to his wife whom he found still crying, and shutting the door, belaboured her so soundly, that she cried out “Enough, husband, enough, forbear, and I will never ask the question more.” Upon this, perceiving that she repented of her impertinent curiosity, he desisted; and opening the door her friends came in, were glad to find her cured of her obstinacy, and complimented her husband upon this happy expedient to bring his wife to reason. Daughter, added the grand vizier, you deserve to be treated as the merchant treated his wife.

Father, replied Scheherazade, I beg you would not take it ill that I persist in my opinion. I am nothing moved by the story of this woman. I could relate many, to persuade you that you ought not to oppose my design. Besides, pardon me for declaring, that your opposition is vain, for if your paternal affection should hinder you from granting my request, I will go and offer myself to the sultan. In short, the father, being overcome by the resolution of his daughter, yielded to her importunity, and though he was much grieved that he could not divert her from so fatal a resolution, he went instantly to acquaint the sultan, that next night he would bring him Scheherazade.

The sultan was much surprised at the sacrifice which the grand vizier proposed to make. How could you, says he, resolve to bring me your own daughter? Sir, answered the vizier, it is her own offer. The sad destiny that awaits her could not intimidate her; she prefers the honour of being your majesty’s wife for one night, to her life. But do not act under a mistake, vizier, said the sultan; to-morrow when I place Scheherazade in your hands, I expect you will put her to death; and if you fail, I swear that your own life shall answer. Sir, rejoined the vizier, my heart without doubt will be full of grief to execute your commands; but it is to no purpose for nature to murmur. Though I am her father, I will answer for the fidelity of my hand to obey your order. Schahriar accepted his minister’s offer, and told him he might bring his daughter when he pleased.

The grand vizier went with the intelligence to Scheherazade, who received it with as much joy as if it had been the most agreeable information she could have received. She thanked her father for having so greatly obliged her; and perceiving that he was overwhelmed with grief, told him, for his consolation, that she hoped he would never repent of having married her to the sultan; and that, on the contrary, he should have reason to rejoice at his compliance all his days.

Her business now was to adorn herself to appear before the sultan; but before she went, she took her sister Dinarzade apart, and said to her, My dear sister, I have need of your assistance in a matter of great importance, and must pray you not to deny it me. My father is going to conduct me to the sultan: do not let this alarm you, but hear me with patience. As soon as I am in his presence, I will pray him to allow you to lie in the bride-chamber, that I may enjoy your company this one night more. If I obtain that favour, as I hope to do, remember to awake me to-morrow an hour before day, and to address me in these or some such words, “My sister, if you be not asleep. I pray you that till day-break, which will be very shortly, you will relate to me one of the entertaining stories of which you have read so many.” I will immediately tell you one; and I hope by this means to deliver the city from the consternation it is under at present. Dinarzade answered that she would with pleasure act as she required her.

The grand vizier conducted Scheherazade to the palace, and retired, after having introduced her into the sultan’s apartment. As soon as the sultan was left alone with her, he ordered her to uncover her face; he found her so beautiful, that he was perfectly charmed; but perceiving her to be in tears, demanded the reason. Sir, answered Scheherazade. I have a sister who loves me tenderly, and I could wish that she might be allowed to pass the night in this chamber, that I might see her, and once more bid her adieu. Will you be pleased to allow me the consolation of giving her this last testimony of my affection? Schahriar having consented, Dinarzade was sent for, who came with all possible expedition.

An hour before day, Dinarzade failed not to do as her sister had ordered. My dear sister, cried she, if you be not asleep, I pray that until day-break, which will be very shortly, you will tell me one of those pleasant stories you have read. Alas! this may perhaps be the last time that I shall enjoy that pleasure.

Scheherazade, instead of answering her sister, addressed herself to the sultan; Sir, will your majesty be pleased to allow me to afford my sister this satisfaction? With all my heart, replied the sultan. Scheherazade then bade her sister attend, and afterwards addressing herself to Schahriar, proceeded as follows.

FIRST NIGHT.

The Merchant and the Genii.

Sir, --There was formerly a merchant, who had a great estate in lands, goods, and money. He had abundance of deputies, factors, and slaves. He was obliged from time to time to take journeys, and talk with his correspondents: and one day, being under a necessity of going a long journey, about an affair of importance, he took horse, and put a portmanteau behind him, with some biscuits and dates, because he had a great desert to pass over, where he could have no manner of provisions. He arrived, without any accident, at the end of his journey; and having dispatched his affairs, took horse again, in order to return home.

The fourth day of his journey, he was so much incommoded by the heat of the sun, and the reflection of that heat from the earth, that he turned out of the road, to refresh himself under some trees, that he saw in the country. There he found, at the foot of a great walnut tree, a fountain of very clear running water; and alighting, tied his horse to a branch of a tree, and sitting down by the fountain, took some biscuits and dates out of his portmanteau; and as he ate his dates, threw the shells about on both sides of him. When he had done eating, being a good Mussulman, he washed his hands, his face, and his feet, and said his prayers. He had not made an end, but was still on his knees, when he saw a genie appear, all white with age, and of a monstrous bulk; who, advancing towards him with a scimitar in his hand, spoke to him in a terrible voice thus: Rise up, that I may kill thee with this scimitar, as you have killed my son; and accompanied those words with a frightful cry. The merchant, being as much frightened at the hideous shape of the monster as at those threatening words, answered him, trembling, Alas, my good lord, of what crime can I be guilty towards you, that you should take away my life? I will, replies the genie, kill thee, as thou hast killed my son. O, heaven! says the merchant, how should I kill your son? I did not know him, nor ever saw him. Did not you sit down when you came hither? replies the genie. Did not you take dates out of your portmanteau, and, as you ate them, did not you throw the shells about on both sides? I did all that you say, answers the merchant; I cannot deny it. If it be so, replied the genie, I tell thee that thou hast killed my son; and the way was thus: when you threw the nutshells about, my son was passing by, and you threw one of them into his eye, which killed him, and therefore I must kill thee. Ah! my lord, pardon me, cried the merchant. No pardon, answers the genie, no mercy: is it not just to kill him that has killed another? I agree to it, says the merchant, but certainly I never killed your son; and if I have, it was unknown to me, and I did it innocently; therefore I beg you to pardon me, and suffer me to live. No, no, says the genie, persisting in his resolution; I must kill thee, since thou hast killed my son; and then, taking the merchant by the arm, threw him with his face upon the ground, and lifted up his scimitar to cut off his head.

The merchant, all in tears, protested he was innocent, bewailed his wife and children, and spoke to the genie in the most moving expressions that could be uttered. The genie, with his scimitar still lifted up, had so much patience as to hear the wretch make an end of his lamentations, but would not relent. All this whining, says the monster, is to no purpose; though you should shed tears of blood, that shall not hinder me from killing thee, as thou hast killed my son. Why, replied the merchant, can nothing prevail with you? Will you absolutely take away the life of a poor innocent? Yes, replied the genie, I am resolved upon it. As she had spoken these words, perceiving it was day, and knowing that the sultan rose betimes in the morning to say his prayers, and hold his council, Scheherazade held her peace. Lord! sister, says Dinarzade, what a wonderful story is this! The remainder of it, says Scheherazade, is more surprising; and you will be of my mind, if the sultan will let me live this day, and permit me to tell it you the next night. Schahriar, who had listened to Scheherazade with pleasure, says to himself, I will stay till to-morrow, for I can at any time put her to death, when she has made an end of her story. So, having resolved not to take away Scheherazade’s life that day, he rose, and went to his prayers, and then called his council.

All this while the grand vizier was terribly uneasy. Instead of sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans, bewailing the loss of his daughter, of whom he believed that he himself should be the executioner. And as, in this melancholy prospect, he was afraid of seeing the sultan, he was agreeably surprised when he saw the prince enter the council chamber, without giving him the fatal orders he expected.

The sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating his affairs; and when night came, he went to bed with Scheherazade. Next morning, before day, Dinarzade failed not to address herself to her sister thus: My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you, till day-break, which must be in a very little time, to go on with the story you began last night. The sultan, without staying till Scheherazade asked him leave, bid her make an end of the story of the genie and the merchant, for I long to hear the issue of it. Upon which Scheherazade spoke, and continued the story, as follows:

SECOND NIGHT.

When the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his head, he cried out aloud, and said to him, For heaven’s sake, hold your hand! Allow me one word: be so good as to grant me some respite; allow me but time to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide my estate among them by will, that they may not go to law with one another, after my death; and when I have done so, I will come back to the same place, and submit to whatever you shall please to order concerning me. But, says the genie, if I grant you the time you demand, I doubt you will never return. If you will believe my oath, answers the merchant, I swear by all that is sacred that I will come and meet you here without fail. What time do you demand then? replies the genie. I ask a year, says the merchant; I cannot have less to order my affairs, and to prepare myself to die without regret. But I promise you, that this day twelvemonths I will return under those trees, to put myself into your hands. Do you take heaven to be witness to this promise? says the genie. I do, answers the merchant, and repeat it, and you may rely upon my oath. Upon this, the genie left him near the fountain, and disappeared.

The merchant, being recovered from his fright, mounted his horse, and set forward on his journey; and as he was glad, on the one hand, that he had escaped so great a danger, so he was mortally sorry, on the other, when he thought on his fatal oath. When he came home, his wife and children received him with all the demonstrations of perfect joy; but he, instead of making them suitable returns, fell to weeping bitterly; from whence they readily conjectured that something extraordinary had befallen him. His wife asked the reason of his excessive grief and tears: We are all overjoyed, says she, at your return, but you frighten us to see you in this condition; pray tell us the cause of your sorrow. Alas! replies the husband, the cause of it is, that I have but a year to live; and then he told what had passed between him and the genie, and that he had given him his oath to return at the end of the year, to receive death from his hands.

When they had heard this sad news, they all began to lament heartily. His wife made a pitiful outcry, beat her face, and tore her hair. The children, all in tears, made the house resound with their groans: and the father, not being able to overcome nature, mingled his tears with theirs; so that, in a word, it was the most affecting spectacle that any man could behold.

Next morning, the merchant applied himself to put his affairs in order, and, first of all, to pay his debts. He made presents to his friends; gave great alms to the poor; set his slaves of both sexes at liberty; divided his estate among his children; appointed guardians for such of them as were not come of age; and, restoring to his wife all that was due to her by contract of marriage, he gave her, over and above, all that he could do by law.

At last the year expired, and go he must. He put his burial clothes in his portmanteau; but never was there such grief seen as when he came to bid his wife and children adieu. They could not think of parting, but resolved to go and die with him; but finding that he must be forced to part with those dear objects, he spoke to them thus: My dear wife and children, says he, I obey the order of Heaven in quitting you; follow my example, submit courageously to this necessity, and consider that it is the destiny of man to die. Having said these words, he went out of the hearing of the cries of his family; and taking his journey, arrived at the place where he promised to meet the genie on the day appointed. He alighted, and setting himself down by the fountain, waited the coming of the genie with all the sorrow imaginable. Whilst he languished in this cruel expectation, a good old man, leading a hind, appeared, and drew near him. They saluted one another; after which the old man says to him, Brother, may I ask you why you are come into this desert place, where there is nothing but evil spirits, and by consequence you cannot be safe? To look upon these fine trees, indeed, one would think the place inhabited; but it is a true wilderness, where it is not safe to stay long.

The merchant satisfied his curiosity, and told him the adventure which obliged him to be there. The old man listened to him with astonishment, and when he had done, cried out, This is the most surprising thing in the world; and you are bound with the most inviolable oath; however, I will be witness of your interview with the genie. And sitting down by the merchant, they talked together. But I see day, says Scheherazade, and must leave off; yet the best of the story is to come. The sultan, resolving to hear the end of it, suffered her to live that day also.

THIRD NIGHT.

Next morning, Dinarzade made the same request to her sister as formerly: My dear sister, says she, if you be not asleep, tell me one of those pleasant stories that you have read. But the sultan, willing to understand what followed between the merchant and the genie, bid her go on with that, which she did, as follows:

Sir, while the merchant, and the old man who led the hind, were talking, they saw another old man coming to them, followed by two black dogs. After they had saluted one another, he asked them what they did in that place. The old man with the hind, told him the adventure of the merchant and genie, with all that had passed between them, particularly the merchant’s oath. He added, that it was the day agreed on, and that he was resolved to stay and see the issue.