THE HISTORY OF THREE CALENDERS, SONS OF KINGS, AND OF FIVE LADIES OF BAGHDAD.

DURING the reign of the Caliph Haroun Alraschid, there lived at Baghdad, a porter, who, notwithstanding that his profession was mean and laborious, was nevertheless a man of wit and humour. One morning, as he was standing with a large basket before him, in a place where he usually waited for employment, a young lady of a fine figure, with her face hidden by a large muslin veil, came up to him, and said with a pleasing air:—‘Porter, take up your basket, and follow me.’ The porter, delighted to hear these words, pronounced in so agreeable a manner, put his pannier on his head and went after the lady, saying, ‘O happy day! O happy meeting!’

“The lady stopped at a closed door, and knocked. A venerable Christian with a long white beard opened it, and she put some money into his hands without saying a single word; but the Christian, who knew what she wanted, went in, and very soon brought out a large jar of excellent wine. ‘Take this jar,’ said the lady to the porter, ‘and put it in the basket.’ When this was done, she desired him to follow her and walked on; the porter still exclaiming, ‘O day of happiness! O day of agreeable surprise and joy!’

“The lady stopped at the shop of a seller of fruits and flowers, where she chose various sorts of apples, apricots, peaches, lemons, citrons, oranges, myrtles, sweet basil, lilies, jessamine, and many other sweet-scented flowers and plants. She told the porter to put all those things in his basket, and follow her. Passing by a butcher’s shop, she ordered five-and-twenty pounds’ weight of his finest meat to be weighed, and this likewise was put into the porter’s basket.

“At another shop she bought some capers, tarragon, small cucumbers, parsley, and other herbs, pickled in vinegar: at another, some pistachios, walnuts, hazelnuts, almonds, kernels of the pine, and similar fruits; elsewhere she purchased all sorts of almond patties. The porter, as he put all these things into his basket, which began to fill it, said, ‘My good lady, you should have told me that you intended making so many purchases, and I would have provided a horse, or rather a camel, to carry them. I shall have more than I can lift, if you add much to what is already here.’ The lady laughed at this speech, and again desired him to follow her.

“She then went into a druggist’s, where she provided herself with all sorts of sweet-scented waters, with cloves, nutmeg, pepper, ginger, and a large piece of ambergris and several other Indian spices, which completely filled the porter’s basket; still she ordered him to follow her. He did so, till they arrived at a magnificent house, the front ornamented with handsome columns; and at the entrance was a door of ivory. Here they stopped, and the lady gave a gentle knock. While they waited for the door to be opened, the porter’s mind was filled with a thousand different thoughts. He was surprised that a lady, dressed like this one, should perform the office of housekeeper; for he conceived it impossible that she should be a slave. Her air was so noble, that he supposed her free, if not a person of distinction. He was wishing to ask her some questions concerning her quality and position; but just as he was preparing to speak, another female, who opened the door, appeared to him so beautiful, that he was silent with astonishment, or rather he was so struck by the brilliancy of her charms, that he very nearly let his basket and all that was in it fall; so much did this fair object engross his attention. He thought he had never seen any beauty in his whole life to equal hers, who was before him. The lady, who had brought the porter, observed the disturbed state of his mind, and divined the cause of it. This discovery amused her; and she took so much pleasure in examining the countenance of the porter, that she forgot the door was open. ‘Come in, sister—,’ said the beautiful portress. ‘What do you wait for? Don’t you see, that this poor man is so heavily laden, he can hardly bear his load?’

“As soon as the first lady and the porter had come in, the second, who opened the door, shut it; and all three, passing through a handsome vestibule, crossed a very spacious court, surrounded by an open gallery, or corridor, which communicated with many magnificent apartments, all on the same floor. At the end of this court there was a sort of cabinet, richly furnished, with a throne of amber in the middle, supported by four ebony pillars, enriched with diamonds and pearls of extraordinary size, and covered with red satin, relieved by a bordering of Indian gold, of admirable workmanship. In the middle of the court there was a large basin lined with white marble, and full of the clearest transparent water, which rushed from the mouth of a lion of gilt bronze.

“Although the porter was heavily laden, this did not prevent him from admiring the magnificence of the house, and the neatness and regularity with which everything in it was arranged; but his attention was particularly attracted by a third lady, who appeared still more beautiful than the second, and who was seated on the amber throne. As soon as she perceived the other two females, she came down from the throne, and advanced towards them. The porter conjectured from the looks and behaviour of the first two ladies, that this third was the principal personage; and he was not mistaken. This last lady was called Zobeidè; she, who opened the door, was called Safiè and the name of the one who had been out for the provisions, was Aminè.

“ ‘You do not, my dear sisters,’ said Zobeidè, accosting the other two, ‘perceive that this man is almost fainting under his load. Why do you not discharge him?’ Aminè and Safiè then took the basket, one standing at each side; Zobeidè also assisted, and all three put it on the ground. They then began to empty it; and when they had done so, the agreeable Aminè took out her purse, and rewarded the porter very liberally. He was well satisfied with what he received, and was taking up his basket to go, but could not muster sufficient resolution; so much was he delighted by the sight of three such rare beauties, all of whom appeared to him equally charming; for Aminè had also taken off her veil, and he found her quite as handsome as the others. The thing that puzzled him most, was that there did not seem to be any man in the house; and yet a great part of the provisions he brought, such as the dried fruits, cakes, and sweetmeats, were most suitable for persons who wish to drink much and to feast.

“Zobeidè at first thought the porter was waiting to get breath; but observing he remained a long time, she asked him what he waited for, and whether he was sufficiently paid. ‘Give him something more,’ added she, speaking to Aminè, ‘and let him be satisfied.’ ‘Madam,’ answered the porter, ‘it is not that which detains me; I am already but too well paid for my trouble. I know very well that I am guilty of an incivility in staying where I ought not; but I hope you will have the goodness to pardon it, and ascribe it to the astonishment I experience in seeing no man among three ladies of such uncommon beauty. A party of ladies without men is as melancholy and stupid as a party of men without ladies.’ To this he added some pleasantries in proof of what he advanced. He did not forget to repeat what they say at Baghdad, that there was no comfort at table unless there were four; and he concluded by saying, that as the ladies were three, they had the greatest want of a fourth.

“The ladies laughed heartily at the reasoning of the porter. Zobeidè, however, then addressed him in a serious manner. ‘You carry your fooleries, my friend, a little too far; but though you do not deserve that I should enter into any explanation with you, I will at once inform you, that we are three sisters, who arrange all our affairs so secretly, that no one knows anything of them. The great reason we have to fear a discovery, forbids us to make our arrangements public: and an author of repute, whom we have read, says, Keep thy own secret, and tell it to no one; for he who reveals a secret, is no longer master of it. If thine own breast cannot contain thy secret, how can the breast of him, to whom thou entrustest it?

“ ‘Ladies,’ replied the porter, ‘from your appearance alone I thought you possessed a singular degree of merit; and I perceive that I am not mistaken. Although fortune has not been so propitious to me, as to provide me with a better profession than the one I follow, yet I have cultivated my mind as much as I was able, by reading books of science and history; and permit me, I entreat, to say, that I also have read in another a maxim, which I have always happily practised. Conceal your secret, says the writer, only from such as are known to be indiscreet, and who will abuse your confidence; but make no difficulty in discovering it to prudent men, because they know how to keep it. The secret, then, with me is as safe as if it were locked up in a cabinet, the key of which is lost, and the door sealed.

“Zobeidè saw that the porter was not deficient in cleverness; but thinking that he was desirous of being at the entertainment they were going to have, she jestingly replied, ‘You know that we are preparing to regale ourselves, and you must also know we cannot do this, but at a considerable expense; and it would not be just that you should partake of the feast without bearing part of the cost.’ The beautiful Safiè was of her sister’s opinion. ‘My friend,’ she said to the porter, ‘have you never heard the common saying, “If thou bringest something, thou shalt return with something, if thou bringest nothing, thou shalt carry nothing away.” ’

 

The three ladies and the porter.

“The porter would have been obliged to retire in confusion, in spite of his rhetoric, had it not been for Aminè, who took his part very strongly. ‘My dear sisters,’ she said to Zobeidè and Safiè, ‘I entreat you to permit him to remain with us. I need not tell you he will divert us, for you must see he is a witty man. I assure you, that had it not been for his readiness, quickness, and courage in following me, I should not have executed my many commissions in so short a time. Besides, if I were to repeat to you all the amusing things he said to me on the way, you would not be much surprised that I am become his advocate.’

“At this speech of Aminè’s, the porter, in a transport of joy, fell on his knees and kissed the ground at the feet of this charming woman. ‘My dear lady,’ said he, as he rose, ‘you have begun my happiness, and placed it almost at its summit by this generous advocacy, for which I can never sufficiently express my gratitude. In short, ladies,’ added he, addressing the three sisters at once, ‘do not suppose because you have done me so great an honour, that I will abuse it; or that I consider myself as a man, who is worthy of it; on the contrary, I shall ever regard myself as the humblest of your slaves.’ Saying this, he wished to return the money he had received; but the grave Zobeidè ordered him to keep it. ‘What we have once given,’ she said, ‘as a recompense to those who have rendered us any service, we never take back. But in agreeing that you should remain with us, we not only make the condition, that you keep the secret we are going to entrust you with, but we also require, that you shall strictly observe the rules of propriety and decorum.’ While her sister was speaking, the beautiful Aminè took off her walking dress, and fastening her robe to her girdle, to be more at liberty in preparing the table, she placed on it various kinds of meat, and put some bottles of wine,^g and several golden cups upon a sideboard. Hereupon the ladies seated themselves round the table, and made the porter place himself by their side. He, for his part, was delighted beyond measure, at seeing himself at table with three persons of such extraordinary beauty.

“They had scarcely begun to eat, when Aminè, who had placed herself near the sideboard, took a bottle and goblet, and poured out some wine for herself. Having drunk the first glass, according to the Arabian custom, she then poured out one for each of her sisters, who drank one after the other. Then filling the goblet for the fourth time, she presented it to the porter, who, as he took it, kissed her hand; and before he drank it he sung a song, the purport of which was, that as the wind carried with it the odour of any perfumed spot over which it passed, so the wine which he was about to drink, coming from her hand, acquired a more exquisite flavour than it naturally possessed. This song pleased the ladies very much, and they too sang, each in her turn. In short, the company were in most excellent spirits during the repast, which lasted a long time, and was accompanied by everything that could render it agreeable.

“The day began to close, when Safiè, in the name of her sisters, said to the porter, ‘Arise, and go; it is time to retire.’ To this, the porter, who had not the heart to quit them, answered, ‘Ah, ladies, where would you command me to go in the state I am in? I am almost beside myself from gazing on you, and from the good cheer you have given me; and I shall never find the way to my own house. Allow me the night to recover myself in; I will pass it wherever you please; but no shorter time will restore me to the state I was in when I came here; and even then I fear I shall leave the better part of myself behind.’

“Aminè again took the part of the porter: ‘He is right, my sister,’ she exclaimed; ‘I am convinced of the propriety of his demand. He has sufficiently amused us; and if you will believe me, or rather if you love me, I am sure you will suffer him to pass the evening with us.’ ‘We cannot refuse any request of yours, sister,’ replied Zobeidè. ‘Porter,’ she added, addressing herself to the man; ‘we are willing to grant you even this favour, but we must impose a fresh condition: whatever we may do in your presence, with respect to yourself or anything else, beware of asking us any questions; for in questioning us about things that do not at all concern you, you may hear what will not please you. Take care, therefore, and be not too curious in attempting to discover the motives of our actions.’

“ ‘Madam,’ replied the porter, ‘I promise to observe the conditions with so much exactitude, that you shall have no reason to reproach me with having infringed them, still less to punish my indiscretion. My tongue shall be motionless; and my eyes shall be like a mirror, that preserves none of the objects whose image it receives.’ ‘To let you see,’ said Zobeidè, with a serious air, ‘that what we require of you is not newly established among us, observe what is written over the door, on the inside.’ The porter went and read these words, which were written in large letters of gold: WHOEVER TALKS ABOUT WHAT DOES NOT CONCERN HIM, OFTEN HEARS WHAT DOES NOT PLEASE HIM! He came back directly and said to the three sisters, ‘I swear to you, ladies, that you shall not hear me speak a word concerning anything which does not regard me, and in which you have any interest.’

“This matter being settled, Aminè brought supper; and when she had lighted up the hall with numerous candles, prepared with aloes and ambergris, which scattered a very agreeable perfume, and cast a brilliant radiance around, she seated herself at the table with her sisters and the porter. They began to eat, drink, sing, and recite verses. The ladies took pleasure in making the porter intoxicated, under the pretence of calling upon him to drink to their health. Wit and repartee were not wanting. The company were at length all in the best humour, when they heard a knocking at the gate. They instantly got up, and all ran to open it; but Safiè, to whom this office more particularly belonged, was the most active. The other two, seeing her before them, stopped, and waited till she came back to tell them who it was that could have any business with them at so late an hour. Safiè soon returned, and spoke thus: ‘Sisters, here is a charming opportunity to spend part of the night very pleasantly; and if you are of my opinion we will not let it escape us. There are three calenders at the door; at least they appear by their dress to be calenders; but what will doubtless surprise you is, that they are all three blind of the right eye, and have their heads, beards, and eyebrows shaved. They say they have only just arrived at Baghdad, where they have never been before; and as it is dark, and they knew not where to lodge, they knocked at our door by chance; and entreat us for the love of God, to have the charity to take them in. They care not where we put them, provided they are under cover, and will be satisfied even with a stable. They are young and comely, and seem to be men of some spirit; but I cannot without laughing, think of their amusing and uniform appearance.’ Safiè could not indeed refrain from laughing most heartily, nor could either her sisters or the porter keep from joining in her mirth. ‘Shall we,’ said she, ‘let them come in? It is impossible but that with such men as these, we shall finish the day even better than we began it. They will amuse us very much, and they will be no expense to us, since they only ask a lodging for one night, and it is their intention to leave us as soon as it is day.’

“Zobeidè and Aminè made some difficulty in agreeing to the request of Safiè; and she herself well knew the reason of their reluctance; but she expressed so great a desire to have her way, that they could not refuse her. ‘Go,’ said Zobeidè to her, ‘and let them come in; but do not fail to caution them not to speak about what does not concern them, and make them read the inscription over the inside of the door.’ At these words, Safiè joyfully ran to open the door, and soon returned, accompanied by the three calenders.

“On entering they made a low bow to the sisters, who had risen to receive them, and who obligingly told them they were welcome; and they professed themselves happy in being able to oblige them, and contribute towards lessening the fatigue of their journey. They then invited their new guests to sit down with them. The magnificence of the place and the kindness of the ladies gave the calenders a very high idea of the beautiful hostess and her sisters; but before they took their places, chancing to cast their eyes towards the porter, and observing that he was dressed very like other calenders, from whom they differed in many points of discipline, as for instance, in having their beards and eye-brows shaven, one of them said: ‘This man appears to be one of our Arabian brethren, who revolted.’

“The porter, half asleep, and heated with the wine he had drunk, was much disturbed at these words; and without rising he said to the calender who had spoken, casting at the same time a fierce look at the three, ‘Seat yourselves, and meddle not with what does not concern you. Have you not read the inscription over the door? Do not pretend then to make the world live after your fashion; but live according to ours.’—‘My good friend,’ replied the calender, who had been the cause of this outbreak, ‘do not be angry, for we should be very sorry to give you any cause; on the contrary, we are ready to receive your commands.’ The quarrel would not have ended here had not the ladies interfered, and pacified the disputants.

“When the calenders were seated, the sisters helped them to meat and drink, and the delighted Safiè in particular took care to supply them with wine. When they had both eaten and drunk as much as they wished, they intimated that they should be happy to give their entertainers some music, if the ladies had any instruments, and would order them to be brought. The ladies accepted the offer with pleasure; and the beautiful Safiè immediately got up to procure some instruments, and returning the next moment, offered the calenders a native flute, another used in Persia, and a tambourine. Each calender received from her hand the instrument he liked best, and they all began to play a little air. The ladies were acquainted with the words, which were very lively, and accompanied the air with their voices: frequently interrupting each other with fits of laughter caused by the nature of the words.

“In the midst of this entertainment, and when the party were in high good humour, they heard a knock at the door. Safiè immediately left off singing, and went to see who was there.”

“But I must now inform you, my Lord,” said Scheherazade to the Sultan, “that it is proper for your Majesty to know, how any one came to knock so late at the door of this house. The caliph Haroun Alraschid made it a frequent practice to go through the city in disguise during the night, in order to discover whether every thing was quiet and orderly. On this evening, therefore, the caliph had set out from his palace, at his accustomed hour, accompanied by Giafar, his grand vizier, and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs; all three were disguised as merchants. In passing through the street where these ladies lived, the Prince heard the sound of the instruments, interspersed with laughter, and said to his vizier, ‘Go and knock at the door of that house, where I hear so much noise; I wish to gain admittance, and learn the cause of it.’ The vizier endeavoured to persuade the caliph that they were only women, who were making merry that evening, and that the wine seemed to have exhilarated their spirits; and that the caliph ought not to expose himself where it was probable he might meet with some insult; besides, the time, he said, was improper, and it was useless to disturb the amusements of the people. ‘Nevertheless,’ said the caliph, ‘knock, as I order you.’

“It was, then, the grand vizier Giafar, who had knocked at the door by order of the caliph, who wished not to be known. Safiè opened it, and the vizier observed by the light of a candle she carried, that she was very beautiful. He played his part very well. He first made a profound reverence, and then with a most respectful air, he said, ‘Madam, we are three merchants of Moussoul; we arrived here about ten days ago, with some very rich merchandize; which we have deposited in a khan, where we have taken up our lodging. We have been to spend the day with a merchant of this city, who had invited us to go to see him. He entertained us very sumptuously; and as the wine we drank put us into a very good humour, he sent for a company of dancers. The night was already far advanced, and while we were playing on our instruments, the company was dancing, and all were making a great noise, the watch happened to pass by, and obliged us to open the door. Some of the guests were arrested: we, however, were so fortunate as to escape, by getting over a wall. But,’ added the vizier, ‘as we are strangers, and have taken perhaps rather more wine than we ought, we are afraid of meeting with a second party of the watch, or perhaps with the officers from whom we escaped, before we arrive at our khan, which is still a long way off. And even if we reached the khan in safety, the gate would be shut, and whoever may come will not be admitted till morning. This is the reason, madam, that in passing by, when we heard the sound of instruments and voices, we thought all those who belonged to the house had not yet gone to rest; and we took the liberty to knock, to beg you to afford us a retreat till the morning. If we appear to you worthy of taking a part in your amusements, we will endeavour, as far as we are able, to contribute to the enjoyment of the evening, and thus to make amends for the interruption we have caused; if we appear unworthy, grant us at least that we may pass the night under the shelter of your vestibule.’

“During the speech of Giafar, the beautiful Safiè had an opportunity of examining the vizier and his companions, whom he called merchants like himself; and judging from their countenances, that they were not common men, she said, that she was not mistress, but if they would be patient for a moment, she would return and bring an answer. Safiè went and related all to her sisters, who hesitated some time as to what they ought to do. But they were naturally kind; and as they had shown the same favour to the three calenders, they resolved to permit these merchants also to come in. The caliph, the grand vizier, and the chief of the eunuchs, being introduced by the beautiful Safiè, saluted the ladies and the calenders with great civility. They, supposing their visitors to be merchants, returned their salute in the same manner; and Zobeidè, as the principal person, said with that grave and serious air which well suited her: ‘You are welcome;—but in the first place, do not take it ill if we ask of you one favour.’ ‘What favour,’ cried the vizier, ‘can we refuse to such beautiful ladies?’ ‘It is,’ replied Zobeidè, ‘to have eyes, but no tongues; to forbear to ask questions about what you may see, or to strive to learn the cause; and to be silent about what does not concern you, lest you should hear what will not be pleasant to you.’ ‘You shall be obeyed, madam;’ replied the vizier, ‘for we are neither censurers, nor indiscreet, inquisitive persons. It is enough for us to attend to our own business, without meddling with what does not regard us.’ After this they all seated themselves, and the conversation became general; and they drank to the health of the new guests.

“While the vizier Giafar entertained them with his conversation, the caliph could not refrain from admiring the extraordinary beauty, the great elegance, the lively disposition and agreeable spirit of the ladies; while the appearance of the three calenders, who were all blind of the right eye, surprised him very much. He wished to learn the cause of this peculiarity, but the conditions the ladies had imposed upon him and his companions, prevented any inquiry. Moreover, when he reflected upon the richness of the appointments and furniture, and the regularity and arrangement everywhere apparent, he could hardly persuade himself the whole scene was not the effect of enchantment.

“The conversation having fallen upon the various sorts of amusement, and the different modes of enjoying life, the calenders got up and danced in their peculiar way; and their skill, while it greatly increased the good opinion the ladies had already conceived of them, attracted also the applause and approbation of the caliph and his company. As soon as the calenders had finished their dance, Zobeidè got up, and taking Aminè by the hand, said to her, ‘Come, sister, the company shall not think that we will put them under any restraint; nor shall their presence prevent us from doing, as we have always been accustomed to do.’ Aminè, who perfectly understood what her sister meant, rose and took away the dishes, tables, bottles, and glasses, and the instruments on which the calenders had played. Nor did Safiè remain idle; she swept the hall, put everything in its proper place, snuffed the candles, and added more aloe wood and ambergris. Having done this, she requested the three calenders to sit on a sofa on one side and the caliph and his companions to take their places on the other. ‘Get up,’ said she, then, turning to the porter, ‘and be ready to assist us in whatever we want you to do; a man like you, as strong as a house, ought never to remain idle.’ The porter had slept, till he was somewhat sobered; he got up therefore very quickly, and fastening his cloak to his girdle, cried, ‘I am ready to do anything you please.’ ‘That is well,’ answered Safiè, ‘and you shall not remain long with your arms crossed.’ A little while after Aminè came in with a sort of seat, which she placed in the middle of the room. She then went to the door of a closet, and having opened it, she made a sign to the porter to approach. ‘Come and assist me,’ she cried. He did so; and quitting the room with her, returned a moment after, followed by two black dogs, each of which he led by a chain fastened to its collar. These dogs, which appeared to have been very ill-used and severely beaten with a whip, he brought into the middle of the room.

“Zobeidè, who was sitting between the calenders and the caliph, then got up, and approaching the porter, said, in a very grave manner, and with a deep sigh, ‘We must do our duty.’ She then turned up her sleeves, so as to uncover her arms to the elbow, and taking a whip, which Safiè presented to her, said, ‘Porter, lead one of these dogs to my sister Aminè, and then come to me with the other.’ The porter did as he was ordered; as he approached Zobeidè, the dog, which he held, began to howl, and turning towards her, lifted up its head in a most supplicating manner. But she, without regarding the distressful gestures of the dog, which must have excited pity, or its cries, which filled the whole house, flogged it, till she was out of breath; and when she had not strength left to beat it any more, she threw away the whip; then taking the chain from the porter, she took up the dog by the forepaws, and looking at each other with a melancholy air, they mingled their tears together. Zobeidè hereupon took out her handkerchief, wiped the tears from the dog’s eyes, and kissed it; then returning the chain to the porter, she desired him to lead that dog back from whence he had taken it, and bring her the other.

 

Zobeidè prepares to whip the dogs.

“The porter carried the one that had been beaten back to the closet. Returning, he took the other from the hands of Aminè, and presented it to Zobeidè, who was waiting for it. ‘Hold it, as you did the first,’ said she; then taking the whip, she served this dog as she had served the other. She then wept with it, dried its tears, kissed it, and returned it to the porter, who was saved the trouble of leading it back to the closet by the agreeable Aminè, who took it herself.

“The three calenders, with the caliph and his party, were all much astonished at this ceremony. They could not comprehend why Zobeidè, after having so violently whipped the two dogs, which, according to the tenets of the Mussulman religion, are impure animals, should afterwards weep with them, kiss them, and dry their tears. The guests conversed together about it, and the caliph in particular was very desirous of knowing the reason of an action, which appeared to him very singular. He made signs to the vizier to inquire, but that officer turned his head the other way, till at last, importuned by repeated signs, he answered by a very respectful gesture, intimating, that it was not yet time to satisfy his master’s curiosity.

“Zobeidè remained for some time in the middle of the room, as if to rest from the fatigue of beating the two dogs. ‘My dear sister,’ said the beautiful Safiè, ‘will you not return to your place, that I also may perform my part?’ ‘Yes,’ replied Zobeidè; and she seated herself on the sofa, with the caliph, Giafar, and Mesrour on her right hand, and the three calenders and the porter on the left.

“The company continued for some time silent: at length Safiè, who had placed herself on the seat in the middle of the room, said to Aminè, ‘Sis ter, arise; you understand what I mean.’ Aminè rose and went into a different closet from that whence the dogs had been brought; she returned with a case, covered with yellow satin, and richly ornamented with embroidery of green and gold. She opened it, and took out a lute, which she presented to her sister. Safiè took it, and after having tuned it, began to play upon the lute, accompanying it with her voice: she sang an air on the grief of absence, in so agreeable a style, that the caliph and the rest of the company were enchanted. When she had finished, as she had sung with a great deal of action as well as passion, she offered the lute to Aminè, saying, ‘Sister, my voice fails me; do you take it, and oblige the company by playing and singing instead of me.’

“Aminè played a little prelude, to hear that the instrument was in tune; then she sang for some time on the same subject, but became so affected by the words she uttered, that she had not power to finish the air. Zobeidè began to praise her sister: ‘You have done wonders,’ said she; ‘it is easy to perceive, that you feel the griefs you express.’ Aminè had not time to reply to this speech; she felt herself so oppressed at that moment, that she could think of nothing but giving herself air; and opening her robe, she exposed a bosom, not white as one would suppose the beautiful Aminè’s neck to be, but so covered with scars, as to create a species of horror in the spectators. But the relief thus obtained, was of no service to her, for she fainted away.

“Whilst Zobeidè and Safiè ran to assist their sister, one of the calenders exclaimed, ‘I would rather have slept in the open air, than have come here to witness such a spectacle.’

“The caliph, who heard this speech, approached him, and inquired what all this meant. ‘We know no more than you,’ replied the calender. ‘What!’ resumed the caliph, ‘do not you belong to the house? Cannot you inform me about these two black dogs, and this lady, who appears to have been so ill-treated?’ ‘Sir,’ said the calender, ‘we never were in this house before now, and entered it only a few minutes sooner than you.’ This increased the astonishment of the caliph. ‘Perhaps,’ said he, ‘the man who is with you can give us some information.’ The calender made signs to the porter to draw near, and asked him if he knew why the black dogs had been beaten, and why Aminè’s bosom was so scarred? ‘Sir,’ replied the porter, ‘I swear by the great name of Allah, that if you know nothing of the matter, we are all equally ignorant. It is true that I live in this city, but till to-day I never entered this house; and if you are surprised to see me here, I am not less astonished at being in such company. What increases my surprise,’ added he, ‘is to see these ladies living without any man in the house.’

“The caliph and his party, as well as the calenders, had thought that the porter belonged to the family, and that he would have been able to tell them what they wished so much to know. The caliph resolved to satisfy his curiosity, and risk the consequences. ‘Attend to me,’ he said to the rest; ‘we are seven men, and here are only three women. Let us then compel them to give us the information we request; and if they refuse to comply with a good grace, we can force them to obey.’ The grand vizier, Giafar, opposed this plan; and explained the consequences of it to the caliph, without discovering to the calenders who his companion was; for he always addressed him like a merchant. ‘Consider, sir, I beg,’ said he, ‘that we have our reputation to preserve. You know on what condition these ladies suffered us to become their guests; and we accepted the terms. What will they say to us, if we break the compact? And we should have only ourselves to blame, if any misfortune happened to us in consequence of our curiosity. It is not to be supposed, that these ladies would require such a promise from us, if they were not able to make us repent any breach of our agreement.’

“The vizier now drew the caliph a little aside, and spoke to him in a low voice. ‘My Lord,’ he said, ‘the night will not last long. If your Majesty will but have a little patience, I will come in the morning and bring these women before you, when you are on your throne; and you may learn from them whatever you wish to know.’ Although this advice was very judicious, the caliph rejected it, and desired the vizier to be silent, declaring he would not wait so long, but would that instant have the information he wished. The next question was, who should make the inquiry. The caliph endeavoured to persuade the calenders to speak first, but they excused themselves. At last they all agreed that the porter should be spokesman. He was preparing to ask the fatal question, when Zobeidè approached them. She had been assisting Aminè, who had recovered from her fainting. As she had heard them speak in rather a loud and warm manner, she said to them, ‘What are you talking of? What is your contest about?’

“The porter then addressed her as follows: ‘These gentlemen, madam, entreat you to have the goodness to explain to them, why you wept with those dogs, after having treated them so ill, and what is the reason that the lady who fainted has her bosom covered with scars. This, madam, is what I have been required by them to ask of you.’

“At these words Zobeidè turned with a haughty and menacing gesture to the caliph and the calenders. ‘Is it true, strangers,’ she asked, ‘that you have commissioned this man to require this information of me?’ They all allowed it to be the case, except the vizier Giafar, who did not open his lips. Upon this she replied to them in a tone, which showed how much she was offended. ‘We granted you the favour you requested of us; and in order to prevent any cause of discontent or dissatisfaction on your part, as we were alone, we made our permission to you to stay, subject to one positive condition—that you should not speak about what does not concern you, lest you should hear what would not please you. After we have received you and entertained you as well as we possibly could, you do not scruple to break your word. This probably arises from the readiness with which we granted your request; but that surely is no excuse for you; and your conduct, therefore, cannot be considered as honourable.’ So saying, she struck the floor with her foot; and clapping her hands three times, she called out, ‘Enter quickly!’ A door immediately opened, and seven strong powerful black slaves rushed in, with scimitars in their hands; and each seized one of the guests. They threw the astonished men on the ground, drew them into the middle of the hall, and prepared to cut off their heads.

 

The slaves about to destroy the guest of Zobeidè.

“The alarm of the caliph may be easily imagined. Too late, he repented his disregard of the advice of his vizier. The unfortunate caliph, Giafar, Mesrour, the porter, and the three calenders, were about to pay with their lives for their indiscreet curiosity; but before they received the fatal stroke, one of the slaves said to Zobeidè and her sisters, ‘High, mighty, and revered mistresses, do you command us to cut their throats?’ ‘Stop,’ answered Zobeidè, ‘it is necessary that we first question them.’ ‘Madam,’ cried the affrighted porter, ‘in the name of Allah do not make me die for the crime of another. I am innocent, and they alone are guilty. Alas!’ he continued, weeping, ‘we were passing the time so agreeably! These one-eyed calenders are the cause of this misfortune. Such ill-favoured fellows would be enough to ruin a whole city. I entreat you, madam, not to confound the innocent with the guilty; and remember, it is much more commendable to pardon a miserable wretch like me, who has never a friend, than to overwhelm him with your power, and sacrifice him to your resentment.’

“Zobeidè, in spite of her anger, could not help laughing inwardly at the lamentations of the porter. But without seeming to pay any attention to him, she addressed herself again to the others. ‘Answer me,’ said she, ‘and tell me who you are! If you fail, you have only an instant to live. I cannot believe that you are honourable men, or persons of authority or distinction in whatever country you call your own; for if that had been the case, you would have paid more attention to our condition and more respect to us.’

“The caliph, who was naturally impatient, suffered infinitely more than the rest, at finding that his life depended upon the commands of an offended and justly irritated woman but he began to perceive there were some hopes for him and the rest, when he found that she wished to know who they all were; as he imagined she would by no means take away his life, when she should be informed of his rank. Therefore he whispered to his vizier, who was near him, instantly to declare who he was. But this wise and prudent minister, wishing to preserve the honour of his master, and unwilling to make public the great affront the caliph had brought upon himself, answered, ‘We suffer only what we deserve.’ When, however, in obedience to the caliph, he wished to speak, Zobeidè would not give him time. She immediately addressed herself to the three calenders, and observing that they were all three blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers. ‘No, madam,’ answered one of them for the rest, ‘we are not brothers by blood, but only brethren in so far as we are all calenders; that is, in pursuing and observing the same kind of life.’ ‘Have you,’ said she, addressing one of them in particular, ‘been deprived of one eye from your birth?’ ‘No, indeed, madam,’ he answered, ‘I became so through a most surprising adventure, from the recital or perusal of which, were it written, every one must derive advantage. After this misfortune had happened to me, I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and adopting the habit I wear, became a calender.’

“Zobeidè put the same question to the other, who returned the same answer as the first. But the last, who spoke, added, ‘That you may know, madam, we are not common persons, and to inspire you with some pity for us, we must tell you, that we are all the sons of kings. Although we have never met until this evening, we have had sufficient time to inform each other of this circumstance; and I can assure you, that the kings who gave us birth, have made some noise in the world!’

“During this speech Zobeidè became less angry, and told the slaves to set the prisoners at liberty, but at the same time to remain in the room. ‘They,’ said she, ‘who shall relate their history to me, and explain the motives which brought them to this house, shall suffer no harm, but shall have permission to go where they please; but none that refuse to give us this satisfaction shall be spared.’ So the three calenders, the caliph, the grand vizier Giafar, the eunuch Mesrour, and the porter, all remained on the carpet in the middle of the hall before the three ladies, who sat on a sofa, with the slaves behind them, ready to execute any orders they might receive.

“The porter, understanding that he had only to relate his history in order to be free from the great danger that threatened him, spoke first. ‘You are already acquainted, madam,’ he said, ‘with my history, and with the circumstance that brought me to your house. What I have to relate therefore will soon be finished. Your sister engaged me this morning at the place where I take my stand in my calling as a porter, by which I endeavour to gain a living. I followed her to a wine-merchant’s, to a herb-seller’s, to an orange merchant’s, and to shops where are sold almonds, nuts, and other dried fruits. We then went to a confectioner’s, and to a druggist’s; and from thence with my basket on my head, as full as it well could be, I came here, where you have the goodness to suffer me to remain till now—a favour I shall never forget. This is the whole of my history. ’

“When the porter had concluded, Zobeidè, very well satisfied with him, said, ‘Arise, and begone, nor ever let us see thee again.’ I beg of you, madam,’ replied he, ‘to let me remain a little longer. It would be unfair that I should not hear the histories of these men, after they had the pleasure of hearing mine.’ Saying this he took his place at the end of the sofa, truly delighted at finding himself free from a danger which had greatly alarmed him. One of the calenders next spoke, and addressing himself to Zobeidè as the principal person who had commanded them to give an account of themselves, he began his history as follows: