A certain King's son was once walking alone for his pleasure,
when he came to a green meadow, abounding in trees laden with
fruit and birds singing on the boughs, and a river running
athwart it. The place pleased him; so he sat down there and
taking out some dried fruits he had brought with him, began to
eat, when lo! he espied a great smoke rising up to heaven and,
taking fright, he climbed up into a tree and hid himself among
the branches. Thence he saw an Ifrit rise out of the midst of the
stream bearing on his head a chest of marble, secured by a
padlock. He set down the chest on the meadow-sward and opened it
and there came forth a damsel of mortal race like the sun shining
in the sheeny sky. After seating her he solaced himself by gazing
on her awhile, then laid his head in her lap and fell asleep,
whereupon she lifted up his head and laying it on the chest, rose
and walked about. Presently, she chanced to raise her eyes to the
tree wherein was the Prince, and seeing him, signed to him to
come down. He refused, but she swore to him, saying, "Except thou
come down and do as I bid thee, I will wake the Ifrit and point
thee out to him, when he will straightway kill thee." The King's
son fearing she would do as she said, came down, whereupon she
kissed his hands and feet and besought him to do her need. To
this he consented and, when he had satisfied her wants, she said
to him, "Give me this seal ring I see on thy finger." So he gave
her his signet and she set it in a silken kerchief she had with
her, wherein were more than four score others. When the Prince
saw this, he asked her, "What dost thou with all these rings?";
and she answered, "In very sooth this Ifrit carried me off from
my father's palace and shut me in this box, which he beareth
about on his head wherever he goeth, with the keys about him; and
he hardly leaveth me one moment alone of the excess of his
jealousy over me, and hindereth me from what I desire. When I saw
this, I swore that I would deny my last favours to no man
whatsoever, and these rings thou seest are after the tale of the
men who have had me; for after coition I took from each a seal
ring and laid it in this kerchief." Then she added, "And now go
thy ways, that I may look for another than thyself, for the Ifrit
will not awake yet awhile." Hardly crediting what he had heard,
the Prince returned to his father's palace, but the King knew
naught of the damsel's malice (for she feared not this and took
no count thereof), and seeing that his son had lost his ring, he
bade put him to death.
[FN#240] Then he rose from his place and
entered his palace; but his Wazirs came in to him and prevailed
with him to abandon his purpose. The same night, the King sent
for all of them and thanked them for having dissuaded him from
slaying his son; and the Prince also thanked them, saying, "It
was well done of you to counsel my father to let me live and
Inshallah! I will soon requite you abundantly." Then he related
to them how he had lost the ring, and they offered up prayers for
his long life and advancement and withdrew. "See then, O King,"
(said the Wazir), "the malice of women and what they do unto
men." The King hearkened to the Minister's counsel and again
countermanded his order to slay his son. Next morning, it being
the eighth day, as the King sat in his audience chamber in the
midst of his Grandees and Emirs and Wazirs and Olema, the Prince
entered, with his hand in that of his governor, Al Sindibad, and
praised his father and his Ministers and lords and divines in the
most eloquent words and thanked them for having saved his life;
so that all who were present wondered at his eloquence and
fluency of speech. His father rejoiced in him with exceeding, all
surpassing joy, and calling him to him, kissed him between the
eyes. Then he called his preceptor, al-Sindibad, and asked him
why his son had kept silence these seven days, to which he
replied, "O our lord, the truth is, it was I who enjoined him to
this, in my fear for him of death: I knew this from the day of
his birth; and, when I took his nativity, I found it written in
the stars that, if he should speak during this period, he would
surely die; but now the danger is over, by the King's fortune."
At this the King was glad and said to his Wazirs, "If I had
killed my son, would the fault have fallen on me or the damsel or
on the preceptor, al-Sindibad?" But all present refrained from
replying, and al-Sindibad said to the Prince, "Answer thou, O my
son."--And Shahrazad perceived the dawn of day and ceased saying
her permitted say.
When it was the Six Hundred and Third Night,
She said, It hath reached me, O auspicious King, that when
Al-Sindibad said, "Answer thou, O my son," the Prince replied, "I
have heard tell that a merchant at whose house certain guests
once alighted sent his slave girl to the market to buy a jar of
clotted milk.
[FN#241] So she bought it and set out on her return
home; but on the way there passed over her a kite, holding and
squeezing a serpent in its claws, and a drop of the serpent's
venom fell into the milk jar, unknown of the girl. So, when she
came back, the merchant took the milk from her and drank of it,
he and his guests; but hardly had it settled in their stomachs
when they all died.
[FN#242] Now consider, O King, whose was the
fault in this matter?" Thereupon some present said, "It was the
fault of the company who drank the milk without examining it."
And other some, "That of the girl, who left the jar without
cover." But al-Sindibad asked the Prince, "What sayest thou, O my
son?" Answered he, "I say that the folk err; it was neither the
fault of the damsel nor of the company, for their appointed hour
was come, their divinely decreed provision was exhausted and
Allah had fore ordained them to die thus."
[FN#243] When the
courtiers heard this, they marvelled greatly and lifted up their
voices, blessing the King's son, and saying, "O our lord, thou
hast made a reply sans peur, and thou art the sagest man of thine
age sans reproche." "Indeed, I am no sage," answered the Prince;
"the blind Shaykh and the son of three years and the son of five
years were wiser than I." Said the bystanders, "O youth, tell us
the stories of these three who were wiser than thou art, O
youth." Answered he, "With all my heart. I have heard tell this
tale concerning the
Sandal-Wood Merchant and the Sharpers."
