The Arabian Nights Entertainments, Anonymous [summer beach reads .txt] 📗

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 despatched 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 the 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 these 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, replies the genie, I tell thee that thou hast killed my son, and the way was thus; when you threw your nut-shells about, my son was passing by, and you threw one of them into his eye, which killed him; 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 to kill thee, as thou killedst 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 Scheherazade 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 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 ended the story. So having resolved not to take away Scheherazade's life that day, he rose and went to 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 lot 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 will 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.

The 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 tnat 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 prepare myself to die without regret. But I promise you that this day twelve months I will return under these 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 answerable returns, fell a-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 told what had passed betwixt him and the genie, and that he had given his oath to return at the end of the year to receive death from his hands.

When they had heard these sad news, they all began to lament heavily; his wife made a pitiful outcry, beat her face, and tore her hairs. The children, being all in tears, made the house resound with their groans; and the father, not being able to overcome nature, mixed 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 along and to die with, him; but, finding that he must be forced to part from 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 bitch, 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 if 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 by 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; but the best of the story is yet to come. The sultan, resolving to hear the end of it, suffered her to live that day also.

The Third Night.

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

Sir, while the merchant and the old man that led the bitch 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 bitch told him the adventure of the merchant and genie, with all that had passed betwixt them, particularly the merchant's oath. He added, that this was the day agreed on, and that he was resolved to stay and see the issue.

The second old man, thinking it also worth his curiosity, resolved to do the like: he likewise sat down by them; and they had scarcely begun to talk together, when there came a third old man, who, addressing himself to the two former, asked why the merchant that sat with them looked so melancholy. They told him the reason of it, which appeared so extraordinary to him, that he also resolved to be witness to the result, and for that end sat down with them.

In a little time they perceived in the field a thick vapour, like a cloud of dust rising by a whirlwind, advancing towards them, which vanished all of a