Showing posts with label Aladdin. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Aladdin. Show all posts

The Story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves Killed by a Slave Girl - 2

Suraj
The Story of Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves Killed by a Slave Girl - 2

Shortly after the two of them had parted, Marjana came out of Ali Baba’s house on some errand and when she returned, she noticed the mark the thief had made and stopped to examine it. ‘What does this mark mean?’ she asked herself. ‘Does someone intend to harm my master, or is it just children playing? Well, whatever the reason, one must guard against every eventuality.’ So she took a piece of chalk and, as the two or three doors on either side were similar, she marked them all in the same spot and then went inside, without telling her master or mistress what she had done.

The thief, meanwhile, had gone on until he had reached the forest, where he quickly rejoined his band. He told them of his success, exaggerating his good luck in finding right at the start the only man who would have been able to tell him what he had come to discover. They listened to what he said with great satisfaction and the captain, after praising him for the care that he had taken, addressed them all. ‘Comrades,’ he said, ‘we have no time to lose; let us go, well armed but without making this too obvious. We must enter the town separately, one after the other, so as not to arouse suspicion, and meet in the main square, some of us coming from one side, some from the other. I myself will go and look for the house with our comrade who has just brought us such good news, in order to decide what we had better do.’

The thieves applauded their captain’s speech and were soon ready to set out. They went off in twos and threes, and by walking at a reasonable distance from one another, they entered the town without arousing any suspicions. The captain and the thief who had gone there that morning were the last of them. The latter led the captain to the street where he had marked Ali Baba’s house, and on coming to one of the doors which had been marked by Marjana, he pointed it out to him, telling him that that was the house. However, as they continued on their way without stopping so as not to look suspicious, the captain noticed that the next door had the same mark in the same spot. When he pointed this out to his companion and asked him if that was the door or the first one, the other was confused and did not know what to reply. His confusion increased when the two of them saw that the next four or five doors were marked in the same way. The scout swore to the captain that he had marked only one door, adding: ‘I don’t know who can have marked the others all in the same way, but I admit that I am too confused to be sure which is the one I marked.’ The captain, seeing his plan had come to nothing, went to the main square and told his men through the first man he encountered that all their trouble had been wasted: their expedition had been useless and all they could do now was to return to their den in the forest. He led the way and they all followed in the same order in which they had set out.

When they had reassembled in the forest, he explained to them why he had made them come back. With one voice, they all declared that the scout deserved to be put to death; and indeed, he even condemned himself by admitting that he should have taken greater precautions, stoically offering his neck to the thief who came forward to cut off his head.

Since the preservation of the group meant that the wrong that had been done to them should not go unavenged, a second thief, who vowed he would do better, came forward and asked to be granted the favour of carrying out their revenge. They did this and he set out. Just as the first thief had done, he bribed Baba Mustafa, who, with his eyes blindfolded, showed him where Ali Baba’s house was. The thief put a red mark on it in a less obvious spot, reckoning that this would surely distinguish the house from those which had been marked in white. But a little later, just as she had done on the day before, Marjana came out of the house and, when she returned, her sharp eyes did not fail to spot the red mark. For the same reasons as before, she made the same mark with red chalk in the same spot on all the other doors on either side.

The scout, on returning to his companions in the forest, made a point of stressing the precaution he had taken which, he claimed, was infallible and would ensure that Ali Baba’s house could not be confused with the rest. The captain and his men agreed with him that this would succeed, and they made for the city in the same order, taking the same precautions as before, armed and ready to pull off the planned coup. When they arrived, the captain and the scout went straight to Ali Baba’s street but encountered the same difficulty as before. The captain was indignant, while the scout found himself as confused as his predecessor had been. The captain was again forced to go back with his men, as little satisfied as on the previous day, and the scout, as the man responsible for the failure, suffered the same fate, to which he willingly submitted himself.

The captain, seeing how his band had lost two of its brave men, was afraid that more still would be lost and his band would diminish further if he continued to rely on others to tell him where the house really was. The example of the two made him realize that on such occasions his men were far better at using physical force rather than their heads. So he decided to take charge of the matter himself and went to the city, where Baba Mustafa helped him in the same way as he had helped the other two. He wasted no time placing a distinguishing mark on Ali Baba’s house but examined the place very closely, passing back and forth in front of it several times so that he could not possibly mistake it.

Satisfied with his expedition and having learned what he wanted to find out, he went back to the forest. When he reached the cave where his band was waiting for him, he addressed them, saying: ‘Comrades, nothing can now stop us from exacting full vengeance for the harm that has been done to us. I now know for sure the house of the man on whom revenge should fall, and on my way back I thought of such a clever way of making him experience it that no one will ever again be able to discover our hideaway or where our treasure is. This is what we have to aim for, as otherwise, instead of being of use to us, the treasure will be our downfall. To achieve this, here is what I thought of and if, when I finish explaining it, any one of you can think of a better way, he can tell us.’ He went on to explain to them what he intended to do; and as they had all given him their approval, he then told them to disperse into the towns, surrounding villages and even the cities, where they were to buy nineteen mules and thirty-eight leather jars for transporting oil, one full of oil and the others empty.

Within two or three days, the thieves had collected all these. As the empty jars were a little too narrow at the top, the captain had them widened. Then, after he had made one of his men enter each of the jars, with such weapons as he thought they needed, he left open the sections of the jars that had been unstitched to allow each man to breathe freely. After that he closed them in such a way that they appeared to be full of oil. To disguise them further, he rubbed them on the outside with oil taken from the filled jar.

When all this had been done, the mules were loaded with the thirty-seven thieves – not including the captain – each hidden in one of the jars, together with the jar which was filled with oil. With the captain in the lead, they took the path to the city at the time he had decided upon and arrived at dusk, about one hour after the sun had set, as he had planned. He entered the city and went straight to Ali Baba’s house, with the intention of knocking on the door and asking to spend the night there with his mules, if the master of the house would agree to it. He had no need to knock, for he found Ali Baba at the door, enjoying the fresh air after his supper. After he brought his mules to a halt, the captain said to Ali Baba: ‘Sir, I have come from far away, bringing this oil to sell tomorrow in the market. I don’t know where to stay at this late hour, so if it is not inconvenient to you, would you be so kind as to let me spend the night here? I would be very obliged to you.’ Although in the forest Ali Baba had seen the man who was now speaking to him and had even heard his voice, how could he have recognized him as the captain of the forty thieves in his disguise as an oil merchant? ‘You are very welcome, come in,’ he replied, standing aside to let him in with his mules. When the man had entered, Ali Baba summoned one of his slaves and ordered him to put the mules under cover in the stable after they had been unloaded, and to give them hay and barley. He also took the trouble of going to the kitchen and ordering Marjana quickly to prepare some supper for the guest who had just arrived and to make up a bed for him in one of the rooms.

Ali Baba did even more to make his guest as welcome as possible: when he saw that the man had unloaded his mules, that the mules had been led off into the stable as he had ordered, and that he was looking for somewhere to spend the night in the open air, he went up to him in the hall where he received guests, telling him he would not allow him to sleep in the courtyard. The captain firmly refused his offer of a room, under the pretext of not wishing to inconvenience him, although in reality this was so as to be able to carry out what he planned in greater freedom, and he only accepted the offer of hospitality after repeated entreaties.
Not content with entertaining someone who wanted to kill him, Ali Baba went on to talk with him about things which he thought would please him, until Marjana brought him his supper, and he left his guest only when he had eaten his fill, saying: ‘I will leave you as the master here; you have only to ask for anything you need: everything in my house is at your disposal.’ The captain got up at the same time as Ali Baba and accompanied him to the door, and while Ali Baba went into the kitchen to speak to Marjana, he entered the courtyard under the pretext of going to the stable to see if his mules needed anything. Ali Baba once more told Marjana to take good care of his guest and to see he lacked for nothing, adding: ‘I am going to the baths early tomorrow morning. See that my bath linen is ready – give it to Abdullah; and then make me a good beef stew to eat when I return.’ Having given these orders, he then retired to bed.

Meanwhile, the captain came out of the stable and went to tell his men what they had to do. Beginning with the man in the first jar and carrying on until the last, he said to each one: ‘As soon as I throw some pebbles from the room in which they have put me, cut open the jar from top to bottom with the knife you have been given and, when you come out, I shall be there.’ The knives he meant were pointed and had been sharpened for this purpose.
He then returned and Marjana, seeing him standing by the kitchen door, took a lamp and led him to the room which she had prepared for him, leaving him there after having asked him if there was anything else he needed. Soon afterwards, so as not to arouse any suspicion, he put out the lamp and lay down fully dressed, ready to get up as soon as he had taken a short nap.
Marjana, remembering Ali Baba’s orders, prepared his bath linen and gave it to the slave Abdullah, who had not yet gone to bed. She then put the pot on the fire to prepare the stew, but while she was removing the scum, her lamp went out. There was no more oil in the house nor were there any candles. What should she do? She had to see clearly to remove the scum, and when she told Abdullah of her quandary, he said to her: ‘Don’t be so worried: just take some oil from one of the jars here in the courtyard.’

Marjana thanked him for his advice and while he went off to sleep near Ali Baba’s room so as to be ready to follow him to the baths, she took the oil jug and went into the courtyard. When she approached the first jar she came across, the thief hidden inside it asked: ‘Is it time?’ Although the man had spoken in a whisper, Marjana could easily hear his voice because the captain, as soon as he had unloaded his mules, had opened not only this jar but also all the others, to give some air to his men, who, though they could still breathe, had felt very uncomfortable. Any other slave but Marjana, surprised at finding a man in the jar instead of the oil she was looking for, would have caused an uproar that could have done a lot of harm. But Marjana was of superior stock, immediately realizing the importance of keeping secret the pressing danger which threatened not only Ali Baba and his family but also herself. She grasped the need to remedy the situation swiftly and quietly, and thanks to her intelligence, she saw at once how this could be done. Restraining herself and without showing any emotion, she pretended to be the captain and replied: ‘Not yet, but soon.’ She went up to the next jar and was asked the same question, and she went on from jar to jar until she reached the last one, which was full of oil, always giving the same reply to the same question. In this way she discovered that her master, Ali Baba, who thought he was merely offering hospitality to an oil merchant, had let in to his house thirty-eight thieves, including the bogus oil merchant, their captain. Quickly filling her jug with oil from the last jar, she returned to the kitchen where she filled the lamp with the oil and lit it. She then took a large cooking pot and returned to the courtyard where she filled it with oil from the jar and brought the pot back and put it over the fire. She put plenty of wood underneath because the sooner the pot boiled the sooner she could carry out her plan to save the household, as there was no time to spare. At last the oil boiled; taking the pot, she went and poured enough boiling oil into each jar, from the first to the last, to smother and kill the thieves – and kill them she did.
This deed, which was worthy of Marjana’s courage, was quickly and silently carried out, as she had planned, after which she returned to the kitchen with the empty pot and closed the door. She put out the fire she had lit, leaving only enough heat to finish cooking Ali Baba’s stew. Finally, she blew out the lamp and remained very quiet, determined not to go to bed before watching what happened next, as far as the darkness allowed, through a kitchen window which overlooked the courtyard.

She had only to wait a quarter of an hour before the captain awoke. He got up, opened the window and looked out. Seeing no light and as the house was completely quiet, he gave the signal by throwing down pebbles, several of which, to judge by the sound, fell on the jars. He listened but heard nothing to tell him that his men were stirring. This worried him and so he threw some more pebbles for a second and then a third time. They fell on the jars and yet not one thief gave the least sign of life. He could not understand why and, alarmed by this and making as little noise as possible, he went down into the courtyard. When he went up to the first jar, intending to ask the thief, whom he thought to be alive, whether he was asleep, he was met by a whiff of burning oil coming from the jar. He then realized that his plan to kill Ali Baba and pillage his house and, if possible, carry back the stolen gold had failed. He moved on to the next jar and then all the others, one after the other, only to discover that all his men had perished in the same way. Then, on seeing how the jar which he had brought full of oil had been depleted, he realized just how he had lost the help he had been expecting. In despair at the failure of his attempt, he slipped through Ali Baba’s garden gate, which led from the courtyard, and made his escape by passing from garden to garden over the walls.

After she had waited a while, Marjana, hearing no further sound and seeing that the captain had not returned, was in no doubt about what he had decided to do, as he had not tried to escape by the house door, which was locked with a double bolt. She went to bed at last and fell asleep, delighted and satisfied at having so successfully ensured the safety of the whole household.
Ali Baba, meanwhile, set out before daybreak and went to the baths, followed by his slave, quite unaware of the astonishing events which had taken place in his house while he was asleep. For Marjana had not thought that she should wake him and tell him about them, as she had quite rightly realized she had no time to lose at the moment of danger and that it was pointless to disturb him after the danger had passed.
By the time Ali Baba had returned home from the baths, the sun had already risen, and when Marjana came to open the door for him, he was surprised to see that the jars of oil were still in their place and that the merchant had not gone to the market with his mules. He asked her why this was, for Marjana had left things just as they were for him to see, so that the sight of them could explain to him more effectively what she had done to save him. ‘My good master,’ Marjana replied, ‘may God preserve you and all your household! You will understand better what you want to know when you have seen what I have to show you. Please come with me.’ Ali Baba followed her and, after shutting the door, she led him to the first jar. ‘Look inside,’ she said, ‘and see if there is any oil there.’ Ali Baba looked, but seeing a man in the jar, he drew back in fright, uttering a loud cry. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said Marjana. ‘The man you see won’t do you any harm. He has done some damage but is no longer in a condition to do any more, either to you or to anyone else – he’s no longer alive.’ ‘Marjana,’ exclaimed Ali Baba, ‘what is all this that you have just shown me? Explain to me.’ ‘I will tell you,’ she replied, ‘but control your astonishment and don’t stir up the curiosity of your neighbours, lest they find out something that is very important for you to keep secret. But come and see the other jars first.’

Ali Baba looked into the other jars one after the other, from the first to the last one, in which he could see that the oil level was now much lower. After looking, he stood motionless, saying not a word but staring now at the jars, now at Marjana, so great was his astonishment. At last, as if he had finally recovered his speech, he asked: ‘But what has become of the merchant?’ ‘The merchant,’ replied Marjana, ‘is no more a merchant than I am. I will tell you who he is and what has become of him. But you will learn the full story more comfortably in your own room, as it’s time, for the sake of your health, to have some stew after your visit to the baths.’
While Ali Baba returned to his room, Marjana went to the kitchen to fetch the stew. When she brought it to him, he said to her before eating it: ‘Satisfy my impatience and tell me this extraordinary story at once and in every detail.’

Obediently, Marjana began: ‘Master, last night, when you had gone to bed, I prepared your linen for the bath, as you had told me, and I gave it to Abdullah. I then put the stew pot on the fire, but while I was removing the scum, the lamp suddenly went out for lack of oil. There was not a drop of oil left in the jug, and so I went to look for some candle ends but couldn’t find any. Seeing me in such a fix, Abdullah reminded me of the jars in the courtyard which we both believed, as you did yourself, were full of oil. I took the jug and ran to the nearest one, but when I got to it, a voice came from inside, asking: “Is it time?” I wasn’t startled, for I realized at once the bogus merchant’s malicious intent, and I promptly replied: “Not yet, but soon.” I went to the next jar and a second voice asked me the same question, to which I gave the same reply. I went from jar to jar, one after the other, and each time came the same question and I gave the same answer. It was only in the last jar that I found any oil and I filled my jug from it. When I considered that there were thirty-seven thieves in the middle of your courtyard, just waiting for the signal from their captain – whom you had taken for a merchant and had received so warmly – to set your house alight, I lost no time. I took the jar, lit the lamp and, taking the largest cooking pot in the kitchen, I went and filled it with oil. I put the pot over the fire and when the oil was boiling hot, I went and poured some into each of the jars where the thieves were. This was enough to stop them carrying out their plan to destroy us, and when my plan succeeded, I went back to the kitchen and put out the lamp. Then, before going to bed, I quietly went and stood by the window to see what the bogus oil merchant would do. A short time later, I heard him throw some pebbles from his window down on to the jars, as a signal. He did this twice or thrice and then, as he could neither see nor hear any movement coming from below, he came down and I saw him go from jar to jar, until after he had reached the last one, I lost sight of him because of the darkness. I kept watch for some time after that and, when he didn’t return, I was sure he must have escaped through the garden, in despair at his failure. Convinced that the household was now quite safe, I went to bed.’

Having completed her account, Marjana added: ‘This is the story you asked me to tell you and I am certain it all follows from something I noticed two or three days ago which I didn’t think I needed to tell you. Early one morning, as I came back from the city, I saw that there was a white mark on our street door and next day there was a red mark next to it. I didn’t know why this was and so on both occasions I went and marked two or three doors next to us up and down the street in the same way and in the same spot. If you add this to what has just happened, you will see that it was all a plot by the thieves of the forest who, for some reason, have lost two of their number. Be that as it may, they have now been reduced to three, at the most. This goes to show that they have sworn to do away with you and that you had better be on your guard as long as we can be sure that there is even one left alive. For my part,’ she concluded, ‘I will do everything I can to watch over your safety, as is my duty.’

When she had finished, Ali Baba, realizing how much he owed to her, said: ‘I will not die before rewarding you as you deserve, for I owe my life to you. As a token of my gratitude, I shall start by giving you your freedom as of this moment, until I can reward you properly in the way I have in mind. I, too, am persuaded that the forty thieves set this ambush up for me, but through your hands God has saved me. May He continue to preserve me from their wickedness and, by warding off their wickedness from me, may He deliver the world from their persecution and their vile breed. What we must now do is immediately to bury the bodies of these pests of the human race, in complete secrecy, so that no one will suspect what has happened. That’s what I’m going to work on with Abdullah.’

Ali Baba’s garden was very long and at the end of it were some large trees. Without further delay, he went with Abdullah and together they dug a trench under the trees, long enough and wide enough for all the bodies they had to bury. The earth was easy to work, so that the job was soon completed. They then pulled the bodies out of the jars and, after removing the weapons with which the thieves were armed, they took the bodies to the bottom of the garden and laid them in the trench. After they had covered them with the soil from the trench, they scattered the rest of it around so that the ground seemed the same as before. Ali Baba carefully hid the oil jars and the weapons; while, as for the mules, for which he had no further use, he sent them at different times to the market, where he got his slave to sell them.

While Ali Baba was taking all these measures to stop people discovering how he had become so rich in such a short time, the captain of the thieves had returned to the forest in a state of unimaginable mortification. In his agitation, confused by so unexpected a disaster, he returned to the cave, having come to no decision about how or what he should or should not do to Ali Baba.

The solitude in which he found himself in this place seemed horrible to him. ‘Brave lads,’ he cried out, ‘companions of my vigils, my struggles and adventures, where are you? What will I do without you? Have I chosen you and collected you together only to see you perish all at once by a fate so deadly and so unworthy of your courage? Had you died sword in hand like brave men, I would regret your death. When will I ever be able to get together another band of hardy men like you again? And even if I wanted to, could I do so without exposing so much gold, silver and riches to the mercy of someone who has already enriched himself with part of it? No, I could not and should not think of it before I have first got rid of him. I shall do by myself what I have not been able to do with such powerful assistance. When I have seen to it that this treasure is no longer exposed to being plundered, I will ensure that after me it will stay neither without successor nor without a master; rather, that it may be preserved and increase for all posterity.’ Having made this resolution, he did not worry about how to carry it out; and so, full of hope and with a quiet mind, he went to sleep and spent a peaceful night.

The next morning, having woken up very early as he had intended, he put on new clothes of a kind suitable for his plan and went to the city, where he took up lodgings in a khan. Expecting that what had happened at Ali Baba’s house might have caused some uproar, he asked the doorkeeper in the course of his conversation what news there was in the city, to which the doorkeeper replied by telling him all sorts of things, but not what he needed to know. From that, he decided that Ali Baba must be guarding his great secret because he did not want the fact that he knew about the treasure and how to get to it to be spread abroad. Ali Baba, for his part, was well aware that it was for this reason that his life was in jeopardy.

This encouraged the captain to do everything he could to get rid of Ali Baba by the same secret means. He provided himself with a horse and used it to transport to his lodgings various kinds of rich cloths and fine fabrics which he brought from the forest in several trips, taking the necessary precautions to conceal the place from where he was taking them. When he had got what he thought enough, he looked for a shop and having found one, he hired it from the proprietor, filled it with his stock and established himself there. Now the shop opposite this one used to belong to Qasim and had recently been occupied by Ali Baba’s son. The captain, who had taken the name of Khawaja Husain, soon exchanged courtesies with the neighbouring merchants, as was the custom. Since Ali Baba’s son was young and handsome and did not lack intelligence, the captain frequently had occasion to speak to him, as he did to the other merchants, and soon made friends with him. He even took to cultivating him more assiduously when, three or four days after he had established himself there, he recognized Ali Baba, who had come to see his son and talk with him, as he did from time to time. He later learned from the son, after Ali Baba had left, that this was his father. So he cultivated him all the more, flattered him and gave him small gifts, entertaining him and on several occasions inviting him to eat with him.

Ali Baba’s son did not want to be under so many obligations to Khawaja Husain without being able to return them. But his lodgings were cramped and he was not well off enough to entertain him as he wished. He talked about this to his father, pointing out to him that it was not proper to let Khawaja Husain’s courtesies remain unrecognized for much longer.
Ali Baba was delighted to take on the task of entertaining him himself. ‘My son,’ he said, ‘tomorrow is Friday. As it is a day when the big merchants like Khawaja Husain and yourself keep their shops closed, arrange to take a stroll with him after dinner; when you return, arrange it so that you bring him past my house and make him come in. It’s better to do it this way than if you were to invite him formally. I shall go and order Marjana to prepare the supper and have it ready.’

On Friday, Ali Baba’s son and Khawaja Husain met after dinner at their agreed rendezvous and went on their walk. As they returned, Ali Baba’s son carefully made Khawaja Husain pass down the street where his father lived, and when they came to the house door, he stopped and said to him, as he knocked: ‘This is my father’s house. When I told him about the friendship with which you have honoured me, he told me to see to it that you honoured him with your acquaintance. I beg you to add this pleasure to all the others for which I am already indebted to you.’ Although Khawaja Husain had got what he wanted, which was to enter Ali Baba’s house and murder him without endangering his own life and without causing a stir, nevertheless he made his excuses and pretended to be about to take leave of the son. But as Ali Baba’s slave had just opened the door, the son seized him by the hand and, going in first, pulled him forcibly after him, as if in spite of himself.

Ali Baba met Khawaja Husain with a smiling face and gave him all the welcome he could wish for. He thanked him for the kindness he had shown to his son, adding: ‘The debt he and I owe you is all the greater, since he is a young man still inexperienced in the ways of the world and you are not above helping instruct him in these.’ Khawaja Husain returned the compliment by assuring him that though some old men might have more experience than his son, the latter had enough good sense to serve in place of the experience of very many others.

After talking for a short while on unimportant matters, Khawaja Husain wanted to take his leave, but Ali Baba stopped him, saying: ‘My dear sir, where do you want to go? Please do me the honour of dining with me. The meal I would like to offer you is much inferior to what you deserve but, such as it is, I hope that you will accept it in the same spirit in which I offer it to you.’ ‘Dear sir,’ Khawaja Husain rejoined, ‘I know you mean well. If I ask you not to think ill of me for leaving without accepting this kind offer of yours, I beg you to believe me that I don’t do this out of disrespect or discourtesy. I have a reason which you would appreciate, if you knew it.’ ‘And may I ask what this can be?’ said Ali Baba. ‘Yes, I can tell you what it is: it is that I don’t eat meat or stew which contains salt. Just think how embarrassed I would be, eating at your table.’ ‘If that’s the only reason,’ Ali Baba replied, ‘it should not deprive me of the honour of having you to supper, unless you wish it. First, there’s no salt in the bread which we have in my house; and as for the meat and the stews, I promise you there won’t be any in what will be served you. I shall go and give the order, and so, please be good enough to stay, as I shall be back in a moment.’

Ali Baba went to the kitchen and told Marjana not to put any salt on the meat she was going to serve and immediately to prepare two or three extra stews, in addition to those he had ordered, and these were to be unsalted. Marjana, who was ready to serve the meal, could not stop herself showing annoyance at this new order and having it out with Ali Baba. ‘Who is this awkward fellow, who doesn’t eat salt? Your supper will no longer be fit to eat if I serve it later.’ ‘Don’t be angry, Marjana,’ Ali Baba continued. ‘He’s perfectly all right. Just do as I tell you.’

Marjana reluctantly obeyed, and, curious to discover who this man was who did not eat salt, when she had finished and Abdullah had set the table, she helped him to carry in the dishes. When she saw Khawaja Husain, she immediately recognized him as the captain of the thieves, in spite of his disguise. Looking at him closely, she noticed that he had a dagger hidden under his clothes. ‘I am no longer surprised the wretch doesn’t want to eat salt with my master,’ she said to herself, ‘for he is his bitterest enemy and wants to murder him, but I am going to stop him.’

When Marjana had finished serving and letting Abdullah serve, she used the time while they were eating to make the necessary preparations to carry out a most audacious scheme. She had just finished by the time Abdullah came to ask her to serve the fruit, which she then brought and served as soon as Abdullah had cleared the table. Next to Ali Baba she placed a small side table on which she put the wine together with three cups. As she went out, she took Abdullah with her as though they were going to have supper together, leaving Ali Baba, as usual, free to talk, to enjoy the company of his guest and to give him plenty to drink.
It was then that the so-called Khawaja Husain, or rather the captain of the thieves, decided that the moment had come for him to kill Ali Baba. ‘I shall get both father and son drunk,’ he said to himself, ‘and the son, whose life I am willing to spare, won’t stop me plunging the dagger into his father’s heart. I will then escape through the garden, as I did earlier, before the cook and the slave have finished their supper, or it may be that they will have fallen asleep in the kitchen.’

Instead of having supper, however, Marjana, who had seen through his evil plan, gave him no time to carry out his wicked deed. She put on a dancer’s costume, with the proper headdress, and around her waist she tied a belt of gilded silver to which she attached a dagger whose sheath and handle were of the same metal. Finally, she covered her face with a very beautiful mask. Disguised in this manner, she said to Abdullah: ‘Abdullah, take your tambourine and let us offer our master’s guest and his son’s friend the entertainment we sometimes give our master.’ Abdullah took the tambourine and began to play as he walked into the room in front of Marjana. Marjana, who followed him, made a deep bow with a deliberate air so as to draw attention to herself, as though asking permission to show what she could do. Seeing that Ali Baba wanted to say something, Abdullah stopped playing his tambourine. ‘Come in, Marjana, come in,’ said Ali Baba. ‘Khawaja Husain will judge what you are capable of and will tell us his opinion. But don’t think, sir,’ he said, turning to his guest, ‘that I have put myself to any expense in offering you this entertainment. I have it in my own home, and as you can see, it is my slave and my cook and housekeeper who provide me with it. I hope you won’t find it disagreeable.’

Khawaja Husain, who had not expected Ali Baba to add this entertainment to the supper, was afraid that he would not be able to use the opportunity he thought he had found. But he consoled himself with the hope that, if that happened, another opportunity would arise later if he continued to cultivate the friendship of the father and son. So, although he would have preferred to have done without what was being offered, he still pretended to be grateful, and he courteously indicated that what pleased his host would please him too.

When Abdullah saw that Ali Baba and Khawaja Husain had stopped talking, he began to play his tambourine again and accompanied his playing by singing a dance tune. Marjana, who could dance as well as any professional, performed so admirably that she would have aroused the admiration of any company and not only her present audience, although the so-called Khawaja Husain paid very little attention. After she had danced several dances with the same charm and vigour, she finally drew out the dagger. Holding it in her hand, she then performed a dance in which she surpassed herself with different figures, light movements, astonishing leaps of marvellous energy, now holding the dagger in front, as though to strike, now pretending to plunge it into her own chest. At last, now out of breath, with her left hand she snatched the tambourine from Abdullah and, holding the dagger in her right, she went to present the tambourine to Ali Baba, its bowl uppermost in imitation of the male and female professional dancers who do this to ask for contributions from their spectators.
Ali Baba threw a gold coin into Marjana’s tambourine and, following his father’s example, so did his son. Khawaja Husain, seeing she was coming to him too, had already pulled out his purse from his breast to present his offering and was putting his hand out at the very moment that Marjana, with a courage worthy of the firmness and resolve she had shown up till then, plunged the dagger right into his heart and did not pull it out again until he had breathed his last. Terrified by this, Ali Baba and his son both cried out. ‘Wretched girl, what have you done?’ shouted Ali Baba. ‘Do you want to destroy us, my family and myself?’ ‘I didn’t do it to destroy you,’ replied Marjana. ‘I did it to save you.’

Opening Khawaja Husain’s robe, Marjana showed Ali Baba the dagger with which he was armed. ‘See what a fine enemy you’ve been dealing with!’ she said. ‘Look carefully at his face and you will recognize the bogus oil merchant and the captain of the forty thieves. Remember how he didn’t want to eat salt with you – do you need anything more to convince you that he was planning evil? The moment you told me you had such a guest, before I had even seen him I became suspicious. I then set eyes on him and you can see how my suspicions were not unfounded.’

Ali Baba, recognizing the new obligation he was under to Marjana for having saved his life a second time, embraced her and said: ‘When I gave you your freedom, I promised you that my gratitude would not stop there but that I would soon add the final touch to my promise. The time has now come and I will make you my daughter-in-law.’ Turning to his son, he said: ‘I believe you are a dutiful enough son not to find it strange that I am giving you Marjana as a wife without consulting you. You are no less obliged to her than I am. You can see that Khawaja Husain only made friends with you in order to make it easier for him to murder me treacherously. Had he succeeded, you can be sure that you also would have been sacrificed to his vengeance. Consider, too, that if you take Marjana you will be marrying someone who, as long as we both live, will be the prop and mainstay of my family and yours.’ Ali Baba’s son, far from showing any displeasure, gave his consent, not only because he did not want to disobey his father but because his own inclinations led in that direction.

Their next concern was to bury the body of the captain by the corpses of the thirty-seven thieves. This was done so secretly that no one knew about it until many years later, when there was no longer any interest in this memorable tale becoming known.

A few days later, Ali Baba celebrated the wedding of his son to Marjana, with a solemn ceremony and a sumptuous banquet which was accompanied by the customary dances, spectacles and entertainments. The friends and neighbours whom he had invited were not told the real reason for the marriage, but they were well acquainted with Marjana’s many excellent qualities and Ali Baba had the great satisfaction of finding that they were loud in their praises for his generosity and good-heartedness.

After the wedding, Ali Baba continued to stay away from the cave in the forest. He had not been there since he had taken away the body of his brother, Qasim, together with the gold, which he had loaded on to his three donkeys. This had been out of fear that he would find the thieves there and would fall into their hands. Even after thirty-eight of them, including their captain, had died, he still did not go back, believing that the remaining two, of whose fate he was ignorant, were still alive. But when a year had gone by, seeing that nothing had occurred to cause him any disquiet, he was curious enough to make the trip, taking the necessary precautions to ensure his safety. He mounted his horse and, on approaching the cave, he took it as a good sign that he could see no trace of men or horses. He dismounted, tied up his own horse and, standing in front of the door, he uttered these words – which he had not forgotten: ‘Open, Sesame.’ The door opened and he entered. The state in which he found everything in the cave led him to conclude that, since around the time when the so-called Khawaja Husain had come to rent a shop in the city, no one had been there and so the band of forty thieves must all since have scattered and been wiped out. He was now certain that he was the only person in the world who knew the secret of how to open the cave and that its treasure was at his disposal. He had a bag with him which he filled with as much gold as his horse could carry, and then returned to the city.
Later he took his son to the cave and taught him the secret of how to enter it and, in time, the two of them passed this on to their descendants. They lived in great splendour, being held in honour as the leading dignitaries in the city. They had profited from their good fortune but used it with restraint.

The Story of Aladdin, or The Magic Lamp - 12

Suraj


The magician, whose saintly dress concealed a wicked heart, was then led into the room of the twenty-four windows. When he saw the princess, he said to her: ‘May all your hopes and desires be fulfilled,’ and he began to launch into a long string of wishes and prayers for her health and prosperity. Under the cloak of great piety, he used all the rhetorical skills of the impostor and hypocrite he was to ingratiate himself into the princess’s favour, which was all the more easy to achieve because the princess, in her natural goodness of heart, believed everyone was as good as she was, especially those who retreated from the world in order to serve God.
When ‘Fatima’ had finished her long harangue, the princess thanked her, saying: ‘Lady Fatima, I thank you for your prayers and good wishes; I have great confidence in them and hope that God will fulfil them. Come, sit yourself beside me.’ ‘Fatima’ took her seat with affected modesty. ‘Holy lady,’ the princess went on, ‘there is something I ask you to grant me – please don’t refuse it me – which is that you stay with me and tell me about your life, so that I can learn by your good example how I should serve God.’ ‘Princess,’ replied ‘Fatima’, ‘I beg you not to ask me something I can’t consent to, without being distracted from and neglecting my prayers and devotions.’ ‘Don’t worry about that,’ the princess reassured her. ‘I have several rooms which are not occupied. Choose the one you like and you shall perform all your devotions there as freely as if you were in your cell.’
Now the magician’s only aim had been to enter Aladdin’s palace, for he could more easily carry out there his pernicious plan under the auspices and protection of the princess than if he had been forced to go back and forth between the palace and the holy woman’s cell. Consequently, he did not put up much resistance in accepting the princess’s kind offer. ‘Princess,’ he said to her, ‘however much a poor wretched woman like myself has resolved to renounce the pomp and grandeur of this world, I dare not presume to resist the wishes and commands of so pious and charitable a princess.’ In reply, Badr rose from her seat and said to the magician: ‘Get up and come with me, and I will show you the empty rooms I have, so that you may choose.’ The magician followed the princess, and from among all the neat and well-furnished apartments she showed him he chose the one which he thought looked the humblest, saying hypocritically that it was too good for him and that he only chose it to please her.

The princess wanted to take the villain back to the room with the twenty-four windows to have him dine with her. The magician realized, however, that to eat he would have to uncover his face, which he had kept veiled until then, and he was afraid that the princess would then recognize that he was not the holy woman Fatima she believed him to be, and so he begged her earnestly to excuse him, telling her he only ate bread and some dried fruit, and to allow him to eat his modest meal in his room. She granted him his request, replying: ‘Holy lady, you are free to do as you would do in your own cell. I will have some food brought you, but remember I expect you as soon as you have finished your meal.’

After the princess had dined, ‘Fatima’ was informed of it by one of her eunuchs and she went to rejoin her. ‘Holy lady,’ the princess said, ‘I am delighted to have with me a holy lady like you, who will bring blessings to this place. Incidentally, how do like this palace? But before I show you round it, room by room, tell me first what you think of this room in particular.’

At this request, ‘Fatima’, who, in order better to perform her part, had affected to keep her head lowered, looking to neither right nor left, at last raised it and surveyed the room, from one end to the other; and when she had reflected for a while, she said: ‘Princess, this room is truly wonderful and so beautiful. Yet, as far as a recluse such as myself can judge who does not know what the world thinks is beautiful, it seems to me that there is something lacking.’ ‘What is that, holy lady?’ asked the princess. ‘Tell me, I beseech you. I myself thought, and I have heard other people say the same, that it lacked nothing, but if there is anything it does lack, I shall have that put right.’

‘Princess,’ the magician replied, with great guile, ‘forgive me for taking the liberty but my advice, if it is of any importance, would be that if a rukh’s egg were to be suspended from the middle of the dome, there would be no other room like this in the four quarters of the world and your palace would be the wonder of the universe.’ ‘Holy lady, what sort of bird is this rukh and where can one find a rukh’s egg?’ Badr asked. ‘Princess,’ replied ‘Fatima’, ‘this is a bird of prodigious size which lives on the summit of Mount Qaf. The architect of your palace will be able to find you one.’
After she had thanked the so-called holy woman for what she believed to be her good advice, the princess conversed with her on other things, but she did not forget the rukh’s egg, which she intended to mention to Aladdin as soon as he returned from hunting. He had been gone for six days and the magician, who was well aware of this, had wanted to take advantage of his absence, but Aladdin returned that same day, towards evening, just after ‘Fatima’ had taken her leave of the princess to retire to her room. As soon as he arrived, he went up to the princess’s apartments, which she had just entered, and greeted and embraced her, but she seemed a little cold in her welcome, so he said to her: ‘Dear princess, you don’t seem to be as cheerful as usual. Has something happened during my absence to displease you and cause you worry and dissatisfaction? For God’s sake, don’t hide it from me; there’s nothing that were it in my power I would not do to make it go away.’ ‘It’s nothing, really,’ replied Badr, ‘and I am so little bothered by it that I didn’t think it would show on my face enough for you to notice. However, since, contrary to my intentions, you have noticed a change in me, I won’t hide from you the cause, which is of very little importance. Like you,’ she continued, ‘I thought that our palace was the most superb, the most magnificent, the most perfect in all the world. But I will tell you now about something that occurred to me when I was looking carefully around the room of the twenty-four windows. Don’t you agree that it would leave nothing to be desired if a rukh’s egg were to be suspended from the middle of the dome?’ ‘Princess,’ replied Aladdin, ‘it is enough that you should find it lacks a rukh’s egg for me to agree with you. You shall see by the speed with which I put this right how there is nothing I would not do out of my love for you.’

Aladdin left the princess at once and went up to the room of the twentyfour windows; there he pulled out the lamp, which he always carried with him wherever he went, ever since the danger he had run into through neglecting to take this precaution, and rubbed it. Immediately the jinni stood before him and Aladdin addressed him, saying: ‘Jinni, what this dome lacks is a rukh’s egg suspended from the middle of its dome; so I command you, in the name of the lamp I am holding, to repair this deficiency.’

No sooner had Aladdin uttered these words than the jinni uttered such a terrible cry that the room shook and Aladdin staggered and nearly fell down the stairs. ‘What, you miserable wretch!’ cried the jinni in a voice which would have made the most confident of men tremble. ‘Isn’t it enough that I and my companions have done everything for you, but you ask me, with an ingratitude that beggars belief, to bring you my master and hang him from the middle of this dome? For this outrage you, your wife and your palace, deserve to be reduced to cinders on the spot. But it’s lucky you are not the author of the request and that it does not come directly from you. The man really behind it all, let me tell you, is the brother of your enemy, the African magician, whom you destroyed as he deserved. This man is in your palace, disguised in the clothes of the holy woman Fatima, whom he has killed. It’s he who suggested to your wife to make the pernicious demand you have made of me. His plan is to kill you – you must be on your guard.’ And with these words, he disappeared.

Aladdin did not miss a single of the jinni’s final words; he had heard about the holy woman Fatima and he knew all about how she supposedly cured headaches. He returned to the princess’s apartments, saying nothing about what had just happened to him, and sat down, telling her that he had been seized all of a sudden with a severe headache, upon which he put his hand up to his forehead. The princess immediately gave orders for the holy woman to be summoned and, while she was being fetched, she told Aladdin how she had come to be in the palace where she had given her a room.

‘Fatima’ arrived, and as soon as she appeared, Aladdin said to her: ‘Come in, holy lady, I am very glad to see you and very fortunate to find you here. I’ve got a terrible headache which has just seized me and I ask for your help, as I have faith in your prayers. I do hope you will not refuse me the favour you grant to so many who suffer from this affliction.’ On saying this, he stood up and bowed his head, and ‘Fatima’ went up to him, but with her hand clasping the dagger she had on her belt underneath her dress. Aladdin, observing her, seized her hand before she could draw it out and, stabbing her in the heart with his own dagger, he threw her down on the floor, dead.
‘My dear husband, what have you done?’ shrieked the astonished princess. ‘You have killed the holy woman!’ ‘No, my dear,’ replied Aladdin calmly, ‘I have not killed Fatima but a scoundrel who would have killed me if I hadn’t forestalled him. This evil fellow you see,’ he said as he removed his veil, ‘is the one who strangled the real Fatima – this is the person whom you thought you were mourning when you accused me of killing her and who disguised himself in her clothes in order to murder me. And for your further information, he was the brother of the African magician, your kidnapper.’ Aladdin went on to tell her how he had discovered all this, before having the corpse removed.

Thus was Aladdin delivered from the persecution of the two brothers who were both magicians. A few years later, the sultan died of old age. As he had left no male children, Princess Badr al-Budur, as the legitimate heir, succeeded him and transferred to Aladdin the supreme power. They reigned together for many years and were succeeded by their illustrious progeny.

‘Sire,’ said Shahrazad when she had finished the story of the adventures which had happened through the medium of the wonderful lamp, ‘your majesty will no doubt have seen in the person of the African magician a man abandoned to an immoderate passion, desirous to possess great treasures by wicked means, a man who discovered vast quantities of them which he could not enjoy because he made himself unworthy of them. In Aladdin, by contrast, your majesty sees a man of humble birth rising to royalty itself by making use of those same treasures, which came to him without him seeking them, but who used them only in so far as he needed them for some purpose he had in mind. In the sultan he will have learned how a good, just and fair-minded monarch faces many a danger and runs the risk even of losing his throne when, by a gross injustice and against all the laws of fairness, he dares, with unreasonable haste, to condemn an innocent man without wanting to hear his pleas. And finally, your majesty will hold in horror the abominations of those two scoundrel magicians, one of whom sacrifices his life to gain treasure and the other his life and his religion in order to avenge a scoundrel like himself, both of whom receive due punishment for their wickedness.’

The Story of Aladdin, or The Magic Lamp - 11

Suraj


Aladdin went down to the princess’s apartments. He embraced her, saying: ‘Princess, I can assure you that tomorrow morning, your joy and mine will be complete.’ Then, as the princess had not yet finished eating and Aladdin was hungry, she had the dishes – which had hardly been touched – brought from the room of the twenty-four windows. She and Aladdin ate together and drank of the magician’s fine old wine, after which, having no doubt enjoyed conversation which must have been very satisfying, they withdrew to her apartments.
Meanwhile, the sultan, since the disappearance of Aladdin’s palace and of Princess Badr, had been inconsolable at having lost her, or so he thought. Unable to sleep by night or day, instead of avoiding everything that could keep him in his sorrow, he, on the contrary, sought it out all the more. Whereas previously he would only go in the morning to his closet to enjoy gazing at the palace – of which he could never have his fill – now he would go there several times a day to renew his tears and plunge himself into ever deeper suffering by the thought that he would never again see what had given him so much pleasure and that he had lost what he held dearest in the world. Dawn was just breaking when the sultan came to this room the morning that Aladdin’s palace had just been restored to its place. He was lost in thought as he entered it and filled with grief as he glanced sadly at the spot, not noticing the palace at first, as he was expecting to see only an empty space. When he saw that the space was no longer empty, he thought at first that this must be the effect of the mist. But when he looked more closely, he realized that it must be, without doubt, Aladdin’s palace. Sadness and sorrow immediately gave way to joy and delight. He hastened to return to his apartments where he gave orders for a horse to be saddled and brought to him, and as soon as it was brought, he mounted and set off, thinking he could not arrive fast enough at Aladdin’s palace.

Aladdin, expecting this to happen, had got up at first light and had taken out of his wardrobe one of his most magnificent costumes, put it on and gone up to the room of the twenty-four windows, from where he could see the sultan approaching. He went down and was just in time to welcome him at the foot of the staircase and to help him dismount. ‘Aladdin,’ the sultan said to him, ‘I can’t speak to you before I have seen and embraced my daughter.’ Aladdin then led the sultan to the princess’s apartments, where she had just finished dressing. He had already told her to remember that she was no longer in Africa but in China, in the capital of her father, the sultan, and next to his palace once again. The sultan, his face bathed in tears of joy, embraced her several times, while the princess, for her part, showed him how overjoyed she was at seeing him again.

For a while the sultan was unable to speak, so moved was he at having found his beloved daughter again after having so bitterly wept for her loss, sincerely believing she must be dead. The princess, too, was in tears, in her joy at seeing her father again. Finally, the sultan said to her: ‘My daughter, I would like to think that it’s the joy of seeing me again which makes you seem so little changed, as though no misfortune had happened to you. But I am convinced you have suffered a great deal, for one is not carried off with an entire palace as suddenly as you were without great alarm and terrible anguish. I want you to tell me all about it and to hide nothing from me.’
The princess was only too happy to tell him what he wanted to know. ‘Sire,’ she said, ‘if I appear to be so little changed, I beg your majesty to bear in mind that I received a new life early yesterday morning thanks to Aladdin, my beloved husband and deliverer whom I had looked on and mourned as lost to me and whom the joy of seeing and embracing again has all but restored me. Yet my greatest distress was to see myself snatched both from your majesty and from my dear husband, not only because of my love for my husband but also because of my worry that he, innocent though he was, should feel the painful consequences of your majesty’s anger, to which I had no doubt he would be exposed. I suffered only a little from the insolence of my kidnapper – whose conversation I found disagreeable, but which I could put an end to, because I knew how to gain the upper hand. Besides, I was as little constrained as I am now. As for my abduction, Aladdin had no part in it: I alone – though totally innocent – am to blame for it.’

In order to persuade the sultan of the truth of what she said, she told him in detail all about the African magician, how he had disguised himself as a seller of lamps who exchanged new lamps for old ones, and how she had amused herself by exchanging Aladdin’s lamp, not knowing its secret and importance; how, after this exchange, she and the palace had been lifted up and both transported to Africa together with the magician; how the latter had been recognized by two of her slave girls and by the eunuch who had exchanged the lamp for her, when the magician first had the effrontery to come and present himself to her after the success of his audacious enterprise, and to propose marriage to her; how she had suffered at his hands until the arrival of Aladdin; and what measures the two of them had taken to remove the lamp which the magician carried on him and how they had succeeded, particularly by her dissimulation in inviting him to have supper with her; and, finally, she told him of the poisoned goblet she had offered to the magician. ‘As for the rest,’ she concluded, ‘I leave it to Aladdin to tell you about it.’
Aladdin had little more to tell the sultan. ‘When the secret door was opened and I went up to the room of the twenty-four windows,’ he said, ‘I saw the traitor stretched out dead on the sofa, thanks to the virulence of the poison powder. As it was not proper for the princess to remain there any longer, I begged her to go down to her apartments with her slave girls and eunuchs. As soon as I was there alone, I extracted the lamp from the magician’s clothing and made use of the same secret password he used to remove the palace and kidnap the princess. By that means the palace was restored to where it had formerly stood and I had the happiness of bringing the princess back to your majesty, as you had commanded me. I don’t want to impose upon your majesty but if you would take the trouble to go up to the room, you would see the magician punished as he deserves.’

The sultan, to convince himself that this was really true, got up and went to the room and when he saw the magician lying dead, his face already turned livid thanks to the virulent effect of the poison, he embraced Aladdin very warmly, saying: ‘My son, don’t think ill of me for my conduct towards you – I was forced to it out of paternal love and you must forgive me for being overzealous.’ ‘Sire,’ replied Aladdin, ‘I have not the slightest cause for complaint against your majesty, since you did only what you had to do. This magician, this wretch, this vilest of men, he is the sole cause of my fall from favour. When your majesty has the time, I will tell you about another wicked deed he did me, no less foul than this, from which it is only by a particular favour of God that I was saved.’ ‘I will indeed make time for this and soon, but let us think only of rejoicing and have this odious object removed.’

Aladdin had the magician’s corpse taken away and gave orders that it be thrown on to a dunghill for the birds and beasts to feed on. The sultan, meanwhile, after having commanded that tambourines, drums, trumpets and other musical instruments be played to announce the public rejoicing, proclaimed a festival of ten days to celebrate the return of Princess Badr and Aladdin with his palace. Thus was Aladdin faced for a second time with almost inevitable death, yet managed to escape with his life. But it was not the last time – there was to be a third occasion, the circumstances of which we will now tell.
The magician had a younger brother who was no less skilled in the magic arts; one may even say that he surpassed him in wickedness and in the perniciousness of his schemes. They did not always live together nor even stay in the same city, and often one was to be found in the east and the other in the west. But every year they did not fail to inform each other, by geomancy, in what part of the world and in what condition they were, and whether one of them needed the assistance of the other.

Some time after the magician had failed in his attempt to destroy Aladdin’s good fortune, his younger brother, who had not heard from him for a year and who was not in Africa but in some far-off land, wanted to know in what part of the world his brother resided, how he was and what he was doing. Wherever he went this brother always carried with him his geomancy box, as had his elder brother. Taking the box, he arranged the sand, made his throw, interpreted the figures and finally made his divination. On examining each figure, he found that his brother was no longer alive, that he had been poisoned and had died a sudden death, and that this had happened in the capital city of a kingdom in China, situated in such-and-such a place. He also learned that the man who had poisoned him was someone of good descent who had married a princess, a sultan’s daughter.

Having learned in this way of his brother’s sad fate, the magician wasted no time in useless regret, which could not restore his brother to life, but immediately resolving to avenge his death, he mounted a horse and set off for China. He crossed plains, rivers, mountains and deserts, and after a long and arduous journey, without stopping, he finally reached China and shortly afterwards the capital city whose location he had discovered by geomancy. Certain that this was the place and that he had not mistaken one kingdom for another, he stopped and took up lodgings there.

The day after his arrival, this magician went out into the city, not so much to see its fine sights – to which he was quite indifferent – as to begin to take the necessary steps to carry out his evil plan, and so he entered the most frequented districts and listened to what people were saying. There, in a place where people went to spend the time playing different kinds of games, some playing while others stood around chatting, exchanging news and discussing the affairs of the day or their own, he heard people talking of a woman recluse called Fatima, about her virtue and piety and of the miracles she performed. Believing this woman could be of some use to him for what he had in mind, he took one of the men aside and asked him to tell him particularly who this holy woman was and what sort of miracles she performed.

‘What!’ the man exclaimed. ‘Have you never seen or even heard of her? She is the admiration of the whole city for her fasting, her austerity and her exemplary conduct. Except for Mondays and Fridays, she never leaves her little cell, and on the days she shows herself in the city she does countless good deeds, and there is not a person with a headache who is not cured by a touch of her hands.’
The magician wished to know no more on the subject, but only asked the man where in the city the cell of this holy woman was to be found. The man told him, whereupon – after having conceived and drawn up the detestable plan which we will shortly reveal and after having made this enquiry – so as to make quite sure, he observed this woman’s every step as she went about the city, never leaving her out of his sight until evening when he saw her return to her cell. When he had made a careful note of the spot, he went back to one of the places we have mentioned where a certain hot drink is drunk and where one can spend the whole night should one so wish, especially during the days of great heat when the people in such countries prefer to sleep on a mat rather than in a bed.

Towards midnight, the magician, after he had settled his small bill with the owner of the place, left and went straight to the cell of this holy woman, Fatima – the name by which she was known throughout the city. He had no difficulty in opening the door, which was fastened only with a latch, and entered, without making a sound, and closed it again. Spotting Fatima in the moonlight, lying asleep on a sofa with only a squalid mat on it, her head leaning against the wall of her cell, he went up to her and, drawing out a dagger he wore at his side, woke her up. When poor Fatima opened her eyes, she was very astonished to see a man about to stab her. Pressing the dagger to her heart, ready to plunge it in, he said to her: ‘If you cry out or make the slightest sound, I will kill you. Get up and do as I say.’

Fatima, who had been sleeping fully dressed, got up trembling with fear. ‘Don’t be afraid,’ said the magician. ‘All I want is your clothes. Give them to me and take mine instead.’ They exchanged clothes and after the magician had put hers on, he said to her: ‘Paint my face like yours so that I look like you and so that the colour doesn’t come off.’ Seeing that she was still trembling, he said to her, in order to reassure her and so that she might be readier to do what he wanted: ‘Don’t be afraid, I say. I swear by God that I will spare your life.’ Fatima let him into her cell and lit her lamp. Dipping a brush into a liquid in a certain jar, she brushed his face with it, assuring him that the colour would not change and that his face was now the same colour as hers. Then she put her own headdress on his head and a veil, showing him how to conceal his face with it when he went through the city. Finally, after she put around his neck a large string of beads which hung down to the waist, she placed in his hand the same stick she used to walk with. ‘Look,’ she said to him, handing him a mirror, ‘you will see you couldn’t look more like me.’ The magician looked just as he wanted to look, but he did not keep the oath he had so solemnly sworn to the saintly woman. In order to leave no trace of blood, he did not stab her but strangled her and when he saw that she had given up the ghost, he dragged her corpse by the feet to a cistern outside her cell and threw her into it.

Having committed this foul murder, the magician, disguised as Fatima, spent the rest of the night in her cell. The next day, an hour or two after sunrise, he left the cell, even though it was not a day when the holy woman would go out, quite sure that no one would stop and question him about it but ready with an answer if they did. One of the first things he had done on his arrival in the city was to go and look for Aladdin’s palace, and as it was there he intended to put his plan into action, he went directly to it.

As soon as people saw what they thought to be the holy woman, a large crowd gathered around the magician, some asking for his prayers, some kissing his hands – the more reserved among them kissing the edge of his garment – and others, whether they had a headache or merely wanted to be protected from one, bowing their heads for him to lay his hands on them, all of which he did, mumbling a few words in the guise of a prayer. In fact, he imitated the holy woman so well that everyone believed it was really her. After frequent stops to satisfy such requests – for while this sort of laying-on of hands did them no harm, nor did it do them any good – he finally arrived in the square before Aladdin’s palace where, the crowd being even greater, people were ever more eager to get close to him. The strongest and most zealous forced their way through to get to him and this caused such quarrels that they could be heard from the palace, right from the room with the twenty-four windows where Princess Badr was sitting.

The princess asked what all the noise was about and as no one could tell her anything about it, she gave orders for someone to go and see and report back to her. Without leaving the room, one of her slave girls looked out through a screen and came back to tell her that the noise came from the crowd of people who gathered around the saintly lady, to be cured of headaches by the laying-on of her hands. Now the princess, who had heard a lot about the holy woman and the good she did but had never yet seen her, was curious to talk to her. When she expressed something of her desire to the chief eunuch, who was present, he told her that if she wished, he could easily have the woman brought in – she had only to give the command. The princess agreed, and he immediately chose four eunuchs and ordered them to fetch the so-called holy woman.

As soon as the crowd saw the eunuchs come out of the gates of Aladdin’s palace and make for the disguised magician, they dispersed and the magician, finding himself once more alone and seeing the eunuchs coming for him, stepped towards them, delighted to see his deceit was working so well. One of the eunuchs then said to him: ‘Holy lady, the princess wants to see you; come, follow us,’ to which the pseudo-Fatima replied: ‘The princess does me a great honour; I am ready to obey her,’ and followed the eunuchs, who had already set out back to the palace.

The Story of Aladdin, or The Magic Lamp - 10

Suraj


Aladdin, who believed himself innocent, was very much surprised at this announcement and asked the officer if he knew of what crime he was accused, to which the officer answered that neither he nor his men knew anything about it. When he saw how few his own men were compared to the horsemen in the detachment and how they were now moving away from him, he dismounted. ‘Here I am,’ he said. ‘Carry out your order. I have to say, though, that I don’t believe I am guilty of any crime, either against the sultan himself or against the state.’ A very long, thick chain was immediately passed around his neck and tied around his body in such a manner as to bind his arms. Then the officer went ahead to lead the detachment, while a horseman took the end of the chain and, following the officer, led Aladdin, who was forced to follow him on foot. In this manner, Aladdin was led towards the city.
When the horsemen entered the outskirts, the first people who saw Aladdin being led as a criminal were convinced he was going to have his head chopped off. As he was held in general affection, some took hold of their swords or other weapons, while those who had no weapons armed themselves with stones, and they followed the detachment. Some horsemen in the rear turned round to face the people as though to disperse them; but the crowd quickly grew to such an extent that the horsemen decided on a stratagem, being concerned to get as far as the sultan’s palace without Aladdin being snatched from them. To succeed in this, they took great care to take up the entire street as they passed, now spreading out, now closing up again, according to whether the street was broad or narrow. In this way, they reached the palace square, where they all drew themselves up in a line facing the armed populace, until their officer and the horseman who led Aladdin had entered the palace and the doorkeepers had shut the gate to stop the people entering.

Aladdin was led before the sultan, who was waiting for him on the balcony, accompanied by the grand vizier. As soon as he saw him, the sultan immediately commanded the executioner, whom he had ordered to be present, to chop off his head, without wanting to listen to Aladdin or receive an explanation from him. The executioner seized Aladdin and removed the chain which he had around his neck and body. On the ground he spread a leather mat stained with the blood of the countless criminals he had executed and made him kneel on it before tying a bandage over his eyes. He then drew his sword, sized him up before administering the blow and, after flourishing the sword in the air three times, sat down, waiting for the sultan to give the signal to cut off Aladdin’s head.

At that moment, the grand vizier noticed that the crowd, who had broken through the horsemen and filled the square, were scaling the palace walls in several places and were beginning to demolish them in an attempt to breach them. Before the sultan could give the signal to the executioner, the vizier said to him: ‘Sire, I beseech your majesty to reflect carefully on what you are about to do. You will run the risk of seeing your palace stormed, and should such a disaster occur, the outcome could be fatal.’ ‘My palace stormed!’ exclaimed the sultan. ‘Who would be so bold?’ ‘Sire,’ replied the vizier, ‘if your majesty were to cast a glance towards the walls of your palace and towards the square, you would discover the truth of what I say.’

On seeing the excited and animated mob, the sultan was so terrorstricken that he instantly commanded the executioner to put away his sword in its sheath and to remove the bandage from Aladdin’s eyes and let him go free. He also ordered the guards to proclaim that the sultan was pardoning him and that everyone should go away. As a result, all the men who had already climbed on top of the palace walls, seeing what had happened, now abandoned their plan. They very quickly climbed down and, filled with joy at having saved the life of a man they truly loved, they spread the news to everyone around them and from there it soon spread to all the crowd assembled in the palace square. And when the guards proclaimed the same thing from the top of the terraces to which they had climbed, it became known to all. The justice the sultan had done Aladdin by pardoning him pacified the mob; the tumult died down and gradually everyone went home.

Finding himself free, Aladdin looked up at the balcony and, seeing the sultan, cried out in an affecting manner to him: ‘Sire, I beseech your majesty to add one more favour to the one you have already granted me and to let me know what crime I have committed.’ ‘Crime! You don’t know your crime?’ exclaimed the sultan. ‘Come up here and I’ll show you.’

Aladdin went up on to the balcony, where the sultan told him to follow him, and without looking back, led him to his closet. When he reached the door, the sultan turned to him, saying: ‘Enter. You ought to know where your palace stood; look all around and then tell me what has happened to it.’ Aladdin looked and saw nothing. He could see the whole area which his palace had occupied but, having no idea how the palace could have disappeared, this extraordinary event put him into such a state of confusion that in his astonishment he could not utter a single word in reply.

‘Go on, tell me where your palace is and where my daughter is,’ the sultan repeated impatiently. Aladdin broke his silence, saying: ‘Sire, I see very well and have to admit that the palace I built is no longer where it was. I see that it has disappeared but I cannot tell your majesty where it can be. I can assure you, however, that I had no part in this.’ ‘I am not so concerned about what happened to your palace,’ the sultan continued. ‘My daughter is a million times more valuable to me and I want you to find her for me, otherwise I will cut off your head and nothing will stop me.’

‘Sire,’ replied Aladdin, ‘I beg your majesty to grant me forty days’ grace to do all I can, and if in that time I don’t succeed in finding her, I give you my word that I will offer my head at the foot of your throne so you can dispose of it as you please.’ ‘I grant you the forty days you ask for,’ answered the sultan, ‘but don’t think to abuse this favour by believing you can escape my anger, for I will know how to find you, in whatever corner of the earth you may be.’

Aladdin left the sultan, deeply humiliated and in a truly pitiful state: with head bowed, he passed through the palace courtyards without daring to raise his eyes in his confusion. Of the chief court officials, whom he had treated graciously and who had been his friends, not one for all their friendship went up to him to console him or to offer to take him in, but they turned their backs on him as much to avoid seeing him as to avoid being recognized by him. But even had they gone up to Aladdin to say something consoling to him or to offer to help him, they would not have known him, for he no longer knew himself, being no longer in his right mind. This was evident when he came out of the palace, as, without thinking what he was doing, he went from door to door and asked passersby, enquiring of them whether they had seen his palace or could give him any news of it. Consequently, everyone became convinced that Aladdin had gone out of his mind. Some only laughed, but the more reasonable, and in particular those linked to him either by friendship or business, were filled with compassion. He stayed three days in the city – walking hither and thither and only eating what people offered him out of charity – unable to decide what to do.

Finally, in the wretched state he was in and feeling he could no longer stay in a city where he had once cut such a fine figure, he left and went out into the countryside. Avoiding the main roads and after crossing several fields in a state of great uncertainty, eventually, at nightfall, he came to the bank of a river. There, greatly despondent, he said to himself: ‘Where shall I go to look for my palace? In which province, which country or part of the world shall I find it and recover my dear princess, as the sultan demands of me? I will never succeed. It’s best if I don’t go to all of this wearisome effort, which will in any case come to nothing, but free myself of all this bitter grief that torments me.’ Having made this resolution, he was on the point of throwing himself into the river but, being a good and faithful Muslim, he thought he ought not to do this before first performing his prayers. Wishing to prepare himself, he approached the river in order to wash his hands and face according to custom, but as the bank sloped at that point and was damp from the water lapping against it, he slipped and would have fallen into the river had he not been stopped by a small rock which protruded about two feet above the ground. Fortunately for him, he was still wearing the ring which the magician had put on his finger before he had gone down into the cave to remove the precious lamp that had now been taken away from him. As he caught hold of the rock, he rubbed the ring quite hard against it and immediately the same jinni who had first appeared to him in the cave in which the magician had shut him up appeared once again, saying: ‘What is your wish? Here am I, ready to obey you, your slave and the slave of all those who wear the ring on their finger, I and the other slaves of the ring.’
Delighted at this apparition, which he had so little expected in his despair, Aladdin replied: ‘Save me a second time, jinni, and either tell me where the palace I built is or bring it back immediately to where it was.’ ‘What you ask of me,’ replied the jinni, ‘is not within my power to bring back; I am only the slave of the ring. You must address yourself to the slave of the lamp.’ ‘If that’s the case,’ said Aladdin, ‘I command you, by the power of the ring, to transport me to the place where my palace is, wherever it is in the world, and set me down underneath the windows of Princess Badr.’ Hardly had he finished speaking than the jinni transported him to Africa, to the middle of a meadow where the palace stood, not far from a large town, and set him down right underneath the windows of the princess’s apartments, where he left him. All this happened in a moment. Despite the darkness of the night, Aladdin easily recognized his palace and the princess’s apartments; but as the night was already advanced and all was quiet in the palace, he moved off a little way and sat down at the foot of a tree. There, filled with hope as he reflected on the pure chance to which he owed his good fortune, he found himself in a much more peaceful state than he had been in since the time when he had been arrested and brought before the sultan and had been delivered from the recent danger of losing his life. For a while he entertained himself with these agreeable thoughts but eventually, not having slept at all for five or six days, he could not stop himself being overwhelmed by sleep and fell asleep at the foot of the tree where he was sitting.

The next morning, as dawn was breaking, Aladdin was pleasantly awoken by the singing of the birds, not only those that roosted on the tree beneath which he had spent the night but all those on the luxuriant trees in the very garden of his palace. When he cast his eyes on that wonderful building, he felt a joy beyond words at the thought that he would soon be its master once more and possess once again his dear princess. He got up and, approaching the princess’s apartments, walked for a while underneath her windows until it was light and he could see her. As he waited, he searched his mind for a possible cause for his misfortune, and after much thought he became convinced that it all came from his having left the lamp out of his sight. He blamed himself for his negligence and his carelessness in letting it leave his possession for a single moment. What worried him still more was that he could not imagine who could be so jealous as to envy him his good fortune. He would have soon guessed had he known that such a man and his palace were both in Africa, but the slave of the ring had not mentioned this, while he himself had not even asked about it. The name of Africa alone should have reminded him of the magician, his avowed enemy.

That morning, Princess Badr arose earlier than she had done ever since the wily magician – now the master of the palace, the sight of whom she had been forced to endure once a day but whom she treated so harshly that he had not yet been so bold as to take up residence there – had by his cunning kidnapped her and carried her off to Africa. When she was dressed, one of her slave girls, looking through the lattice screen, spotted Aladdin and ran to tell her mistress. The princess, who could not believe the news, rushed to the window and saw her husband. She opened the screen and, hearing the sound, Aladdin raised his head. Recognizing her, he greeted her with great delight. ‘So as to waste no time, someone has gone to open the secret door for you; enter and come up,’ said the princess and closed the screen.
The secret door was beneath the princess’s apartments. Finding it open, Aladdin entered and went up. It is impossible to describe the intensity of their joy at their reunion after believing themselves parted for ever. They embraced several times and showed all the signs of love and affection one can imagine after such a sad and unexpected separation. After many an embrace mingled with tears of joy, they sat down. Aladdin was the first to speak: ‘Before we talk about anything else, dear princess, I beg you, in the Name of God, in your own interest and that of your worthy father, the sultan, and no less of mine, to tell me what has happened to the old lamp that I put on the cornice in the room of the twenty-four windows before I went off to hunt.’ ‘Ah, my dear husband!’ sighed the princess. ‘I did indeed suspect that all our troubles came from the loss of that lamp and what distresses me is that I myself am the cause of it.’ ‘Dear princess,’ said Aladdin, ‘don’t blame yourself; it’s all my fault and I should have taken greater care in looking after it. Let’s now think only about how to repair the damage, and so please be so good as to tell me how it happened and into whose hands the lamp fell.’

The princess then proceeded to tell Aladdin how the old lamp had been exchanged for a new one, which she ordered to be brought in for him to see; and how the following night she had found the palace had been transported and, the next morning, she woke to find herself in an unknown country, where she was now talking to him, and that this was Africa, a fact she had learned from the very mouth of the traitor who had transported her there by his magic arts.
‘Dear princess,’ Aladdin interrupted her, ‘you have already told me who the traitor is by explaining that I am with you in Africa. He is the most perfidious of all men. But now is not the time nor the place to give you a fuller picture of his evil deeds. I only ask you to tell me what he has done with the lamp and where he has put it.’ ‘He carries it with him carefully wrapped up close to his chest,’ the princess answered, ‘and I can bear witness to that since he pulled it out and unwrapped it in my presence in order to show it off.’

‘Princess, please don’t be annoyed with me for wearying you with all these questions,’ said Aladdin, ‘for they are as important to you as they are to me. But to come to what most particularly concerns me, tell me, I beg you, how you yourself have been treated by this wicked and treacherous man.’ ‘Since I have been here,’ replied the princess, ‘he only visits me once a day, and I am sure that he does not bother me more often because these visits offer him so little satisfaction. Every time he comes, the aim of all his conversation is to persuade me to break the vows I gave you and to make me take him for my husband, by trying to make me believe that I should not hope ever to see you again; that you are no longer alive and that the sultan, my father, has had your head chopped off. He adds, to justify himself, that you are ungrateful and that you owed your good fortune only to him, and there are a thousand other things I will leave him to tell you. And as all he gets from me in reply are tears and moans, he is forced to depart as little satisfied as when he came. However, I have no doubt that his intention is to let the worst of my grief and pain pass, in the hope that I will change my mind, and, finally, if I persist in resisting him, to use violence. But, dear husband, your presence has already dispelled my worries.’
‘Princess,’ said Aladdin, ‘I am confident that it is not in vain and your worries are over, for I believe I have found a way to deliver you from your enemy and mine. But to do that, I have to go into the town. I will return towards noon and will then tell you what my plan is and what you will need to do to help make it succeed. I must warn you not to be astonished if you see me return dressed in different clothes, but give the order not to have me kept waiting at the secret door after my first knock.’ The princess promised him that someone would be waiting for him at the door, which would be opened promptly.

When Aladdin had gone down from the princess’s apartments, leaving by the same door, he looked around and saw a peasant who was setting off on the road which led into the country. The peasant had already gone past the palace and was a little way off, so Aladdin hastened his steps; when he had caught up with him, he offered to change clothes with him, pressing him until the peasant finally agreed. The exchange was done behind a nearby bush; and when they had parted company, Aladdin took the road back to the town. Once there, he went along the road leading from the city gate and then passed into the most frequented streets. On coming to the place where all the merchants and artisans had their own particular street, he entered that of the apothecaries where he sought out the largest and best-supplied store and asked the merchant if he had a certain powder which he named.

The merchant, who, from his clothes, imagined Aladdin to be poor and that he had not enough money to pay him, said he had but that it was expensive. Aladdin, guessing what was on the merchant’s mind, pulled out his purse and, showing him gold coins, asked for half a drachm of the powder. The merchant weighed it out, wrapped it up and, as he gave it to Aladdin, asked him for a gold coin. Aladdin handed it to him and, stopping only long enough in the town to eat something, he returned to his palace. He did not have to wait at the secret door, which was immediately opened to him, and he went up to the princess’s apartments.

‘Princess,’ he said, ‘the aversion you have shown me you feel for your kidnapper will perhaps make it difficult for you to follow the advice I’m going to give you. But allow me to tell you that it is advisable that you should conceal this and even go against your own feelings if you wish to deliver yourself from his persecution and give the sultan, your father and my lord, the satisfaction of seeing you again. If you want to follow my advice,’ continued Aladdin, ‘you must begin right now by putting on one of your most beautiful dresses, and when the magician comes, you must be prepared to welcome him as warmly as possible, without affectation or strain, and with a happy smile, in such a way that, should there still remain a hint of sadness, he will think it will go away with time. In your conversation, give him to understand that you are doing your best to forget me; and so that he should be all the more persuaded of your sincerity, invite him to have supper with you and indicate to him that you would be very pleased to taste some of the best wine his country has to offer. He will then have to leave you to go and find some. Then, while waiting for him to return, when the food is laid out, pour this powder into one of the goblets out of which you usually drink. Put it aside and tell the slave girl who serves you your drink to bring it to you filled with wine after you have given her a pre-arranged signal. Warn her to take care and not to make a mistake. When the magician returns and you are seated at table and when you have eaten and drunk what you think is sufficient, ask for the goblet containing the powder to be brought to you and exchange it for his. He will think you will be doing him such a favour that he won’t be able to refuse you, but no sooner will he have emptied it than you will see him fall down backwards. If you don’t like drinking from his goblet, just pretend to drink; you can do so without fear, for the effect of the powder will be so swift that he won’t have time to notice whether you are drinking or not.’

When Aladdin had finished speaking, the princess said: ‘I must admit I find it very distasteful to have to agree to make advances towards the magician, even though I know I must; but what can one not resolve to do when faced with a cruel enemy! I will do as you advise me, for on it depends my peace of mind no less than yours.’ Having made these arrangements with the princess, Aladdin took his leave and went to spend the rest of the day near the palace, waiting for night to fall before returning to the secret door.

From the moment of her painful separation, Princess Badr – inconsolable not only at seeing herself separated from her beloved husband, Aladdin, whom she had loved and whom she continued to love more out of inclination than out of duty, but also from the sultan, her father, whom she cherished and who loved her tenderly – had remained very neglectful of her person. She had even, one may say, forgotten the neatness which so becomes persons of her sex, particularly after the first time the magician had come to her and she discovered through her slave girls, who recognized him, that it was he who had taken the old lamp in exchange for a new one. Following her discovery of this outrageous swindle, he had become an object of horror to her, and the opportunity to take the revenge on him that he deserved, and sooner than she had dared hope for, made her content to fall in with Aladdin’s plans. Thus, as soon as he had gone, she sat down at her dressing table; her slave girls dressed her hair in the most becoming fashion and she took out her most glamorous dress, searching for the one which would best serve her purpose. She then put on a belt of gold mounted with the largest of diamonds, all beautifully matched; to go with it she chose a necklace all of pearls, of which the six on both sides of the central pearl – which was the largest and the most precious – were so proportioned that the greatest queens and the wives of the grandest sultans would have thought themselves happy to have a string of pearls the size of the two smallest pearls in the princess’s necklace. The bracelets of diamonds interspersed with rubies wonderfully complemented the richness of the belt and the necklace.
When the princess was fully dressed, she looked in her mirror and consulted her maids for their opinion on her dress. Then, having checked that she lacked none of the charms which might arouse the magician’s mad passion, she sat down on the sofa to await his arrival.

The magician came at his usual hour. As soon as she saw him come into the room of the twenty-four windows where she awaited him, she arose apparelled in all her beauty and charm, and showed him to the place of honour where she wanted him to take his seat so as to sit down at the same time as he did, a mark of courtesy she had not shown him before. The magician, more dazzled by the beauty of the princess’s sparkling eyes than by the brilliance of the jewellery with which she was adorned, was very surprised. Her stately air and a certain grace with which she welcomed him were so different from the rebuffs he had up till then received from her. In his confusion, he would have sat down on the edge of the sofa but, seeing the princess did not want to take her seat until he had sat down where she wished him to, he obeyed.

Once the magician was seated where she had indicated, the princess, to help him out of the embarrassment she could see he was in, was the first to speak. Looking at him in such a manner as to make him believe that he was no longer odious to her, as she had previously made him out to be, she said: ‘No doubt you are astonished to see me appear so different today compared to what you have seen of me up till now. But you will no longer be surprised when I tell you that sadness and melancholy, griefs and worries, are not part of my nature, and that I try to dispel such things as quickly as possible when I discover there is no longer a reason for them. Now, I have been thinking about what you told me of Aladdin’s fate and, knowing my father’s temper, I am convinced as you are that Aladdin cannot have avoided the terrible effects of his wrath. And I can see that if I persist in weeping for him all my life, all my tears would not bring him back. That is why, after I have performed for him the final rites and duties that my love dictates, now that he is in his grave it seems to me that I should look for ways of consoling myself. This is the reason for the change you see in me. As a start, to remove any cause for sadness, I have resolved to banish it completely; and, believing you very much wish to keep me company, I have given orders for supper to be prepared for us. However, as I only have wine from China and I am now in Africa, I fancied trying some that is produced here and I thought that, if there is any, you would be able to procure some of the best.’
The magician, who had thought it would be impossible for him to be so fortunate as to find favour so quickly and so easily with the princess, told her he could not find words sufficient to express how much he appreciated her kindness. But to finish a conversation which he would otherwise have found difficult to bring to an end, once he had embarked on it, he seized upon the subject of African wine that she had mentioned. He told her that one of the main advantages of which Africa could boast was that it produced excellent wines, particularly in the region where she now found herself; he had a seven-year-old cask which had not yet been opened, whose excellence, not to set too high a value on it, surpassed the most exquisite wines in the whole of the world. ‘If my princess will give me leave, I will go and fetch two bottles and I will be back immediately,’ he added. ‘I would be sorry to put you to such trouble,’ the princess replied. ‘It might be better if you sent someone else.’ ‘But I shall have to go myself,’ said the magician, ‘as only I know where the key of the storeroom is, and only I know the secret of how to open it.’ ‘If that is the case,’ said the princess, ‘then go, but come back quickly. The longer you take, the more impatient I will be to see you again, and bear in mind that we will sit down to eat as soon as you return.’
Filled with hope at his imagined good fortune, the magician did not so much run as fly to fetch his seven-year-old wine, and returned very quickly. The princess, well aware that he would make haste, had herself put the powder that Aladdin had brought her into a goblet which she had set aside and had then started to serve the dishes. They sat down opposite each other to eat, the magician so placed that his back was turned to the refreshments. The princess presented him with all the best dishes, saying to him: ‘If you wish, I will entertain you with singing and music, but as there are only the two of us, it seems to me that conversation would give us more pleasure.’ The magician regarded this as one more favour granted him by the princess.

After they had eaten a few mouthfuls, the princess asked for wine to be brought. She then drank to the health of the magician, after which she said to him: ‘You were right to sing the praises of your wine. I have never drunk anything so delicious.’ ‘Charming princess,’ replied the magician, holding the goblet he had just been given, ‘my wine acquires an extra virtue by your approval.’ ‘Then drink to my health,’ said the princess, ‘and you will see for yourself what an expert I am.’ The magician drank to the princess’s health, saying to her as he handed back the goblet: ‘Princess, I consider myself fortunate for having kept this wine for such a happy occasion, and I, too, must admit that I have never before drunk any so excellent in so many ways.’

At last, when they had finished eating and had drunk three more times of the wine, the princess, who had succeeded in charming the magician with her gracious and attentive ways, beckoned to the slave girl who served the wine and told her to fill her goblet with wine and at the same time fill that of the magician and give it to him. When they both had their goblets in their hands, the princess said to the magician: ‘I don’t know what one does here when one is in love and drinks together, as we are doing. Back home, in China, lovers exchange goblets and drink each other’s health.’ As she was speaking, she gave him the goblet she had, in one hand, while holding out the other to receive his. The magician hastened to make this exchange, which he did all the more gladly as he regarded this favour the surest sign that he had completely won over the heart of the princess. His happiness was complete. Before he drank to her, holding his goblet in his hand, he said: ‘Princess, we Africans are by no means as skilled in the refinements of the art and pleasures of love as the Chinese. I learned from you something I did not know and at the same time I have learned how much I should appreciate the favour you grant me. Dear princess, I will never forget this: by drinking out of your goblet, I rediscovered a life I would have despaired of, had your cruelty towards me continued.’

Princess Badr, bored by the magician’s endless ramblings, interrupted him, saying: ‘Let us drink first; you can then say what you wish later.’ At the same time, she raised the goblet to her mouth but only touched it with her lips, while the magician, who was in a hurry to drink first, drained his goblet without leaving a drop behind. In his haste to empty the goblet, when he finished, he leaned backwards a little and remained a while in this pose until the princess, her goblet still only touching her lips, saw his eyes begin to roll as he fell, lifeless, on his back.
She had no need to order the secret door to be opened for Aladdin: as soon as the word was given that the magician had fallen upon his back, her slave girls, who were standing several paces from each other outside the room and all the way down to the foot of the staircase, immediately opened the door. Aladdin went up and entered the room. When he saw the magician stretched out on the sofa, the princess got up and was coming towards him to express her joy and embrace him, but he stopped her, saying: ‘Princess, now is not yet the time. Please would you go back to your apartments and see that I am left alone while I try to arrange to have you transported back to China as quickly as you were brought from there.’

As soon as the princess and her slave girls and eunuchs were out of the room, Aladdin closed the door and, going up to the magician’s lifeless corpse, opened up his shirt and drew out the lamp which was wrapped up as the princess had described to him. He unwrapped it and as soon as he rubbed it, the jinni appeared with his usual greeting. ‘Jinni,’ said Aladdin, ‘I have summoned you to command you, on behalf of the lamp in whose service you are, to have this palace transported immediately back to China, to the same part and to the same spot from where it was brought here.’ The jinni nodded to show he was willing to obey and then disappeared. Immediately, the palace was transported to China, with only two slight shocks to indicate the removal had taken place – one when the palace was lifted up from where it was in Africa and the other when it was set down again in China, opposite the sultan’s palace. All this happened in a very short space of time.

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