Chapter 6

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.