he went and found the prince.
“Rejoice,” he said, “your cruel enemy is dead.”
The prince thanked him again and again.
“And now,” said the Sultan. “I will go back to my capital, which I am glad to find is so near yours.”
“So near mine!” said the King of the Black Isles.
“Do you know it is a whole year’s journey from here? You came here in a few hours because it was enchanted. But I will accompany you on your journey.”
“It will give me much pleasure if you will escort me,” said the Sultan, “and as I have no children, I will make you my heir.”
The Sultan and the prince set out together, the Sultan laden with rich presents from the King of the Black Isles.
The day after he reached his capital the Sultan assembled his court and told them all that had befallen him, and told them how he intended to adopt the young king as his heir.
Then he gave each man presents in proportion to his rank.
As for the fisherman, as he was the first cause of the deliverance of the young prince, the Sultan gave him much money, and made him and his family happy for the rest of their days.
Story of the Three Calenders, Sons of Kings, and of Five Ladies of Bagdad
In the reign of the Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived at Bagdad a porter who, in spite of his humble calling, was an intelligent and sensible man. One morning he was sitting in his usual place with his basket before him, waiting to be hired, when a tall young lady, covered with a long muslin veil, came up to him and said, “Pick up your basket and follow me.” The porter, who was greatly pleased by her appearance and voice, jumped up at once, poised his basket on his head, and accompanied the lady, saying to himself as he went, “Oh, happy day! Oh, lucky meeting!”
The lady soon stopped before a closed door, at which she knocked. It was opened by an old man with a long white beard, to whom the lady held out money without speaking. The old man, who seemed to understand what she wanted, vanished into the house, and returned bringing a large jar of wine, which the porter placed in his basket. Then the lady signed to him to follow, and they went their way.
The next place she stopped at was a fruit and flower shop, and here she bought a large quantity of apples, apricots, peaches, and other things, with lilies, jasmine, and all sorts of sweet-smelling plants. From this shop she went to a butcher’s, a grocer’s, and a poulterer’s, till at last the porter exclaimed in despair, “My good lady, if you had only told me you were going to buy enough provisions to stock a town, I would have brought a horse, or rather a camel.” The lady laughed, and told him she had not finished yet, but after choosing various kinds of scents and spices from a druggist’s store, she halted before a magnificent palace, at the door of which she knocked gently. The porteress who opened it was of such beauty that the eyes of the man were quite dazzled, and he was the more astonished as he saw clearly that she was no slave. The lady who had led him hither stood watching him with amusement, till the porteress exclaimed, “Why don’t you come in, my sister? This poor man is so heavily weighed down that he is ready to drop.”
When they were both inside the door was fastened, and they all three entered a large court, surrounded by an open-work gallery. At one end of the court was a platform, and on the platform stood an amber throne supported by four ebony columns, garnished with pearls and diamonds. In the middle of the court stood a marble basin filled with water from the mouth of a golden lion.
The porter looked about him, noticing and admiring everything; but his attention was specially attracted by a third lady sitting on the throne, who was even more beautiful than the other two. By the respect shown to her by the others, he judged that she must be the eldest, and in this he was right. This lady’s name was Zobeida, the porteress was Sadie, and the housekeeper was Amina. At a word from Zobeida, Sadie and Amina took the basket from the porter, who was glad enough to be relieved from its weight; and when it was emptied, paid him handsomely for its use. But instead of taking up his basket and going away, the man still lingered, till Zobeida inquired what he was waiting for, and if he expected more money. “Oh, madam,” returned he, “you have already given me too much, and I fear I may have been guilty of rudeness in not taking my departure at once. But, if you will pardon my saying so, I was lost in astonishment at seeing such beautiful ladies by themselves. A company of women without men is, however, as dull as a company of men without women.” And after telling some stories to prove his point, he ended by entreating them to let him stay and make a fourth at their dinner.
The ladies were rather amused at the man’s assurances and after some discussion it was agreed that he should be allowed to stay, as his society might prove entertaining. “But listen, friend,” said Zobeida, “if we grant your request, it is only on condition that you behave with the utmost politeness, and that you keep the secret of our way of living, which chance has revealed to you.” Then they all sat down to table, which had been covered by Amina with the dishes she had bought.
After the first few mouthfuls Amina poured some wine into a golden cup. She first drank herself, according to the Arab custom, and then filled it for her sisters. When it came to the porter’s turn he kissed Amina’s hand, and sang a song, which he composed at the moment in praise of the wine. The three ladies were pleased with the song, and then sang themselves, so that the repast was a merry one, and lasted much longer than usual.
At length, seeing that the sun was about to set, Sadia said to the porter, “Rise and go; it is now time for us to separate.”
“Oh, madam,” replied he, “how can you desire me to quit you in the state in which I am? Between the wine I have drunk, and the pleasure of seeing you, I should never find the way to my house. Let me remain here till morning, and when I have recovered my senses I will go when you like.”
“Let him stay,” said Amina, who had before proved herself his friend. “It is only just, as he has given us so much amusement.”
“If you wish it, my sister,” replied Zobeida; “but if he does, I must make a new condition. Porter,” she continued, turning to him, “if you remain, you must promise to ask no questions about anything you may see. If you do, you may perhaps hear what you don’t like.”
This being settled, Amina brought in supper, and lit up the hall with a number of sweet smelling tapers. They then sat down again at the table, and began with fresh appetites to eat, drink, sing, and recite verses. In fact, they were all enjoying themselves mightily when they heard a knock at the outer door, which Sadie rose to open. She soon returned saying that three Calenders, all blind in the right eye, and all with their heads, faces, and eyebrows clean shaved, begged for admittance, as they were newly arrived in Bagdad, and night had already fallen. “They seem to have pleasant manners,” she added, “but you have no idea how funny they look. I am sure we should find their company diverting.”
Zobeida and Amina made some difficulty about admitting the new comers, and Sadie knew the reason of their hesitation. But she urged the matter so strongly that Zobeida was at last forced to consent. “Bring them in, then,” said she, “but make them understand that they are not to make remarks about what does not concern them, and be sure to make them read the inscription over the door.” For on the door was written in letters of gold, “Whoso meddles in affairs that are no business of his, will hear truths that will not please him.”
The three Calenders bowed low on entering, and thanked the ladies for their kindness and hospitality. The ladies replied with words of welcome, and they were all about to seat themselves when the eyes of the Calenders fell on the porter, whose dress was not so very unlike their own, though he still wore all the hair that nature had given him. “This,” said one of them, “is apparently one of our Arab brothers, who has rebelled against our ruler.”
The porter, although half asleep from the wine he had drunk, heard the words, and without moving cried angrily to the Calender, “Sit down and mind your own business. Did you not read the inscription over