THE STORY OF THE SECOND CALENDER
O KING of the Age, my story is such that none hearing it need lack a lesson or a warning. I, a King, the son of a King, devoted my youth and early manhood to the study of the arts and sciences, so that I became proficient, and excelled greatly in all branches of learning. My fame as a scribe spread far and wide, even to India, so that the King of that land sent a messenger with rich gifts to my father, requesting that I might be allowed to visit him. This pleased my father, and he fitted out a fleet of ships laden with rich gifts, and set them at my disposal.
With a goodly company I sailed eastward, and after many days reached land. Disembarking some splendid horses we had brought with us, we loaded them with gifts and set out for the King’s capital, but we had not proceeded far when a cloud of dust arose in the distance and swept rapidly toward us, with a sound like thunder; and, not until it was near at hand did we observe, outstripping the cloud, a large body of horsemen. Wild-eyed and fierce, and with lances poised, these rode down upon us. We shouted to them that we[166] were ambassadors to the King of India, but this was of no service to us, for it appeared that these men were robbers and recognised no king. This we learned from their cries and shouts as they swept upon us, slaying all within reach of their spears. Some of us fled. I was one of them, though I was wounded; and so closely were the robbers occupied with the treasure upon the horses, that they did not pursue.
Separated from the other survivors, and not knowing which way to search for them, I journeyed on and on, weak from loss of blood, and wretched from my change of state, until in the evening I discovered a cave at the foot of a mountain. Here I rested until the morning, when, after having journeyed on for some hours, I found I was approaching a great city. With joy I made my way towards its sunlit towers and spires, passing through gardens of ever-increasing luxuriance, until I came to the busy parts of the thoroughfares, where merchants thronged the market places, buying and selling.
Not knowing how to proceed in this city, I looked about for someone who might give ear to my tale, and advise me what to do. At last I espied a tailor sitting at work in his shop, and decided that I would speak with him. He received me kindly, and I told him my tale, acquainting him with all that had happened since I left my father’s capital. When I had finished he shook his head gravely, and said: “My son, verily thou art in hard case, though it is fortunate thou camest to me with thy story, and not to another. Knowest thou not that the King of this city is thy father’s greatest enemy, having a blood-debt against him? Wherefore, tell not thy tale again to any, lest the King hear of it, and inflict an injury of vengence upon thee.” The tailor then treated[167] me with hospitality, setting food and wine before me, and bade me remain in his house awhile.
When he had harboured me for some days, the tailor desired to know if I had any trade by means of which I could earn my living. Whereat I informed him that I was learned in the arts and sciences, and a fine writer. “Alas!” he said, “there is no profit in such things. This is a city of commerce, where people devote themselves to getting money. Arise, therefore, O my son, and work for thy living.”
He then fetched an axe and a coil of rope, and bade me go to the forest without the city and hew firewood, which, on my return in the evening, I might sell for a good price. So I followed his counsel, and, when I found that my day’s work brought me half a gold piece, I continued to dwell with the tailor, and hewed wood for the space of a whole year, paying my way, and steadily setting by something of my earnings day by day. Then a strange thing happened to me.
One day, while I was clearing the earth from the roots of a tree in the forest, I came upon a ring of brass. This, I soon discovered, was attached to a trap door, which, with some difficulty, I removed. Then, seeing before me a staircase, I descended until I reached a door, by which, on opening it, I found admittance to a large underground palace, richly furnished. On wandering through the rooms of this place, I came at length to one more richly decorated than all the others; and here, reclining upon a couch, was a lady of surpassing loveliness. The rarity of her charms dazzled me and took my breath away, so that I stood speechless before her. “Art thou a man?” said the lady, regarding me intently, “or art thou an Efrite?” This loosened my tongue,[168] and I replied, “I am a man, as thou art a woman.” She answered, “Yea, I am a woman, and thou art the first man I have seen for a space of twenty-five years, every day and night of which I have spent in this place. How camest thou hither?”
effrite falling through air being struck by lightning
Her voice was sweet as her face was fair, and my heart was melted at the thought of her long captivity. I resolved to tell her my story, for here at least was one who could not spread it abroad in the bazaars. Accordingly I seated myself on the couch at a little distance from her, and related my story from beginning to end; whereupon she wept at my hard lot, saying, “O my master, thy case is not unlike mine.” And she proceeded to acquaint me with it.
“I am the daughter of the King of the Ebony Isles,” she said. “My father married me to my cousin, but on the night of our wedding an Efrite—a true son of Iblis—appeared, and, snatching me from my husband, carried me through the air to this spot where he had built this palace and filled it with all things necessary to my comfort. And from that night, twenty-five years ago, to the present, I have never seen the outside world. On every tenth day he cometh to me, to leave me on the following morning, but if I desire his instant presence at any time, I have but to press this panel of the wall whereon are inscribed some magic characters, and immediately he appeareth before me. Four days have now passed since he was here, so that there remain six of the ten. Do thou therefore dwell here with me for five days, and depart one day before he cometh.”
I agreed to this, and when I had bathed, and put on some garments which she gave me, I sat by her side, and we ate and drank, and conversed happily together. Presently she sang to me in a sweet low voice, and, being fatigued, as well as drowsy with wine, I slept.
When I awoke, she was bending over me, with joy on her face. “Allah hath been good to me in sending thee here,” she said; “for I was nigh to death with loneliness.” At this my heart swelled with love for her, and I could think of naught else but her wondrous charm and beauty. And when I told her this, she said nothing, but the light of her eyes told me all there was to tell. And I remained with her in the greatest joy and happiness. We feasted, and drank, and sang; and, while I played upon musical instruments, she danced with a grace and skill that I had never seen before. At length, on the third day, when I was drunk with love and wine, I said to her: “Let me take thee from this sumptuous dungeon, and free thee from this vile Efrite.” But perchance she knew that this would be impossible, for she replied, laughing softy, “Hold thy peace, O man; thou hast nine days out of the ten.” This inflamed me, and my passion made me valiant. “It is the tenth day I want,” I cried, “and the other nine as well. Lo here! I am a slayer and a conqueror of Efrites. I will this instant break this panel with the magic signs, so that the Efrite may come and be slain.” With a cry she sprang forward to stop me, but I escaped from her embrace, and, aiming a violent kick at the panel, broke it.
“Flee for thy life ere he cometh,” she cried, pointing towards the door. I scarcely knew whether to flee or to remain and face the Efrite, but my feet settled the matter for me, and I gained the doorway in a bound. Then, turning my head, I saw the ground open, and there rose into the room an Efrite of terrible aspect, who looked threateningly at the woman, and demanded to know the cause of his being[170] summoned in such a manner. “Nay, it was naught,” said she, “save that I tripped and fell against the panel, breaking it as thou seest.” “Thou liest!” he cried, in a voice of rage, and, as he said it, his eyes, rolling round in his head, fell upon my sandals and my axe, which in my haste I had left. “Ha!” he exclaimed, snatching them up, “some man hath visited thee, and hath left his axe and his sandals. Confess, vile woman!”
But she denied it, saying, “No man hath visited me, and thou must have brought these things with thee, for I have never set eyes on them until this instant.” “Again thou liest!” he roared, “and unless thou tell me his name, I will beat thy body black and blue.” With this he turned to look for the wherewithal to beat her, and, at sight of his fierce face and huge bulk, my heart turned to water within me, and I fled up the stairway. Before I reached the top I heard the sound of blows, followed by loud cries and shrieks from the woman. Full of bitter repentance that she should suffer thus on my account, and unable to endure the sounds of torture, I hastened through the trap door and fastened it behind me. Then, when I had covered it with earth, I fled through the forest and paused not till I had gained the house of the tailor.
I found him in a state of great anxiety on my account, for I had been absent three days and three nights. “I feared thou hadst fallen a prey to some wild beast,” he cried, “but praise be to God that thou art safe!” I thanked him, and, saying that I was fatigued and would tell him all later, went to my own apartment to weep over what had come to that poor woman through my rash action. But I had not been there many minutes when the tailor came to me, saying, “There[171] is one, a foreigner, in the shop, who desires to speak with thee. He hath an axe and a pair of sandals, which he thinks are thine, and the other woodcutters have directed him to thee; so come forth to receive them, and to thank him.” With this, he returned to the shop, leaving me pale with fear, for well I knew the meaning of this thing. While I was planning what to do—whether to go into the shop, or escape by some other way—the floor was rent asunder, and there rose from it the Efrite. In a loud voice he told me that he had tortured the lady nigh to death, but without avail, for she would tell him nothing; whereat he had taken the axe and the sandals, and, by enquiries, had traced me to the tailor’s abode. With this, he seized me and bore me aloft through the roof of the house, and thence rapidly through the air into the forest, where he descended through the earth and placed me within the chamber of the palace from which I had fled. There, on the floor, laid the lady, bleeding from the wounds inflicted by the Efrite’s torture. “Shameless woman!” cried he, standing over her; “here is thy lover: deny it not.” She glanced at me, and answered him: “I have never set eyes on this man before.” He appeared to take thought for a moment, and then he said: “Thou wilt swear that thou lovest not this man?” She answered him: “I know him not; I love him not.” The Efrite drew his sword. “If thou lovest him not,” said he, “take this sword and strike off his head.”
She took the sword from him, and, coming towards me, raised it to strike; but I made a sign with my eye, imploring her pity. She replied also with a sign, as if to say, “I have suffered all this through thee.” But I still implored her with the speech of the eye, for, as the poet saith:
The language of the eye, like the kisses of the mouth is sweet as honey, and only lovers understand it.
When the lips are closed, love openeth the windows of the soul, and conveyeth its meaning by soft glances.
And when my meaning was thus conveyed to her, she flung away the sword and faced the Efrite, crying, “I cannot slay him, for he hath done me no injury.” The Efrite answered her not, but, taking up the sword, handed it to me. “Strike off her head,” he said, “and I will set thee free.” I took the sword, and arose to do the deed; but, while my arm was raised to strike, love spoke again from her eyes. My hand trembled, my heart melted. I flung the sword from me. “Wherefore should I slay this woman, who hath done me no injury, and whom I have never seen before?” I said to the Efrite. “Never before God can I commit this crime.” The Efrite took the sword, and saying, “It is clear there is love between you,” he cut off one of the lady’s hands, then the other, and then both her feet. And, in her pain, her eyes were turned on me, and the words of love were in them. The Efrite saw her look, and cried, “Is it not enough? Wilt thou still commit the crime of unfaithfulness with thine eye?” And, raising the sword again, he cut off her head.
“O man,” he said, turning to me, “it is lawful for one, having known his wife for twenty-five years, to kill her for the crime of unfaithfulness. As for thee, I will not permit thee to join her. I will not take thy life, but, as I am minded to punish thee, I will give thee thy choice as to whether thou wilt be changed into the form of a dog, or an ass, or an ape.” Since he had shewn me this clemency, I thought by pleading to melt him further, so that perchance he would pardon me altogether. Therefore, I recited many[173] instances of kindness and generosity shewn by Efrites to mortals, some of which I had gleaned from books, while others I invented then and there, with a ready wit. But, though the Efrite listened, his bearing changed not towards me one hair’s breadth. “Thou hast been misinformed,” he said at last. “The Efrite knows neither kindness nor generosity: he is only constrained by the justice of those who have sovereignty over him. Wherefore, hold thy peace, and neither fear that I shall slay thee, nor hope that I shall pardon thee. Thou shalt be punished by the power of enchantment, and thou knowest not how to prevent it.”
Immediately on these words, he stamped the floor with his foot, and the sides of the Palace rocked on their foundations, and fell together; but seizing me, he clove a way through the falling structure, and bore me aloft to a great height. Presently he set me down upon the summit of a high mountain, where he took up a handful of dust, and, having chanted some strange words over it, cast it upon me, crying, “Change thy form, O Man! Retain thy form, O Ape!” And immediately I suffered a rending pang in my bones and flesh, and behold, I was a man ape, old and ugly, and clothed only with hair. When I looked up from examining my ungainly limbs, the Efrite had disappeared.
Long I remained, crouching on the summit of that mountain, realising my punishment, the keenness of which lay in the fact that it was only my form that was changed. My memory, my mental powers, and my likes and dislikes all remained to me, though I was bereft of the power of articulated speech. At last, rousing myself, I descended the mountain, subdued and resigned, to meet whatever further fate awaited me. I journeyed on through strange places,[174] meeting no human being nor any of my present kind in the forests and deserts through which I passed, and subsisting on berries which I gathered from the trees. Finally, I came to the seashore, and lo, there was a vessel making towards the land. Presently the ship cast anchor, and some sailors landed in a small boat with some barrels, by which I knew that they were seeking water. There were six of these barrels, and when they had filled three of them from a spring some little distance inland, and had gone again with the other three to fill them also, I jumped into the boat, and secreted myself behind the three barrels, saying within myself, “If I can get on to the ship unobserved, and hide, I may reach a better land than this.”
Presently the sailors returned with the remaining barrels, and placed them in the boat. I remained undiscovered, and when we reached the vessel’s side, I leapt on board, and hid myself. But alas! I was soon observed, and not being able to explain my position there, knew not what my end would be. Moreover, the merchants who found me clamoured that I should be cast into the sea to drown, for they said, “This ugly brute will be unlucky to us, and, if he remain on the ship, we shall meet with some grievous misfortune.” While they were discussing among themselves whether to slay me with the sword, or cast me overboard to drown, the master of the ship chanced to spy me, and as soon as I saw him, and knew him for the master, I ran forward and threw myself at his feet, clutching and tugging his garment in the endeavour to excite his compassion. And in this I was successful, for he looked down at me with interest, saying: “In truth, this is an intelligent ape; see how he claims my protection! By Allah! he shall have it! Know, O ye[175] merchants, that this is my ape, wherefore harm him not, nor hinder him in his coming and going.” He then took me, and treated me henceforth with the greatest kindness; and, in return for this, I proved myself still more intelligent by serving him in every way I could. When he discovered that I could understand everything he said to me, although I could not speak myself, his astonishment was great. “By the Prophet!” he cried, with a great laugh, “methinks this ape hath already forgotten much that I have yet to learn.”
Meanwhile, we sailed many days upon the sea, until at last we reached a great City built upon the side of a mountain. The houses of this City were numberless, and the inhabitants thereof beyond all reckoning. Scarcely had we cast anchor, and set foot on land, when there came to us some high officials of the King of that City, with many greetings and congratulations on our fortunate journey. “Our King hath seen thy vessel drawing near,” said one of them to the master, “and he bade me say to thee: ‘Thine is a large vessel, and no doubt there are many passengers on board. Is there, perchance, one amongst them who is a skilled caligraphist?’ For thou must know, O my master, that since the death of one of the King’s Viziers,—a marvellous writer,—he hath searched the City in vain to find his equal. Wherefore he hath sent thee this roll of parchment whereon he desireth that each of thy company write a line as candidate for the high office left vacant.”
Immediately on hearing this, I sprang past the master, and seized the parchment, whereat there was great consternation lest I should tear it to pieces. But when I ran to a bale of goods near by, and, seating myself upon it, held the paper correctly with one hand, while making the motions of[176] writing with the other, the master said, “Let him write. He is a most marvellous ape, and I have yet to discover the full extent of his intelligence.” Out of curiosity, the officials, who were incredulous in the matter, agreed, and I was supplied with pen and ink. Then I wrote in a large formal hand:—
He who writes will perish, though his writing live after him;
Let him write, therefore, only what will stand to the end of time.
Then in the epistolary hand I wrote:
O King, thy virtues are so many and so great,
Fame has not space to set them on her page.
Ten thousand writers, writing for an age,
One half thine excellence alone could indicate.
To these I added, in several smaller and different hands, other quatrains in praise of the King; and, having finished, I gave the parchment to the official. When he saw my writing he could not contain his astonishment. He passed it round among the merchants, all of whom marvelled greatly, while some, thinking they could outwrite what I had written, took pen and ink, and wrote. Finally, the official and his party returned with the parchment to the King.
man on flying black horse
Now, it seems that when the King had read all that was inscribed upon the parchment, he liked none of it but mine; and, having summoned his attendants, he said to them: “Take this parchment and find the author of this handwriting. Clothe him in a splendid robe, and mount him upon the best of my horses, and bring him hither.” On this, the officials who stood by could not restrain their laughter, so that the King was incensed at their behaviour, and was about to mark his displeasure by swift punishment when their chief advanced and explained the matter. “O King, didst thou only know[177] why we laugh, thou wouldst laugh louder than any of us. We crave thy Felicity to pardon us, but this writing was done, not by any son of Adam, but by an ape, which belongeth to the master of the ship.” “What?” said the King, “this excellent work done by an ape?” “Yea, your Majesty, it is even so, on the head and the eye. This ape, which is at least a hundred years old, and proportionately ugly, wrote those quatrains in our presence.” The King laughed heartily and said, “Make haste, and bring this ape before me in the manner I commanded, for I have never heard of anything so wonderful.” And he gave them a written and sealed order to the master of the vessel.
O Prince of the Faithful, I learnt all this that I have told thee from their narration to the master on their arrival. On seeing the King’s order the master handed me over to them, and they clothed me with the splendid robe, and placed me upon the King’s horse. Great was the wonder of the people when the procession started for the palace. Seeing an ugly ape, dressed in a royal robe and mounted upon the King’s most splendid steed, their laughter died a sudden death in their throats, and they gaped and wondered. The rumour of my progress went before, and the way was soon thronged with people of high degree and low, while from the windows of houses and palaces looked forth a multitude of citizens to witness this strangest of all spectacles. Then, gradually, arose a great cry of wonder and astonishment, which spread throughout the city: Had the King chosen an ape for his Grand Vizier? What marvellous thing was this? But the King was the King, and the people was the people, and none among them could doubt his doings. And so I rode on in dignified procession.
[At this point in the story, the Khalifeh, set off by the three ladies, could not forbear laughing. “Verily,” he said, slapping his hand on his knee, and rocking with mirth, “were I in reality the Prince of the Faithful, and not a poor impersonator, so would I laugh at the thought of this solemn ape, clad in a royal robe, and mounted on the King’s horse, proceeding in stately dignity through the city.” Then, mastering his laughter, he added, to Ja’far, “O Vizier, I play my part badly when I say ‘were I in reality the Prince of the Faithful,’ for thou knowest, and my Executioner knows, that I am the Khalifeh!” Loudly did Ja’far and Mesrur laugh at this, and the others joined them, and clapped their hands, saying it was an excellent piece of play acting. “Proceed, O Royal Brother!” said the Khalifeh with grave dignity; and the story was resumed.]
Arriving at the palace I soon found myself before the King seated on his throne in a vast chamber, where were assembled the great ones of the earth. I made my obeisance three times to the King, and then, when he motioned me to be seated, I sat down, in the fashion of an ape, upon my haunches. So far, my intelligent respect to royalty commanded the admiration at once of the King and his subjects, for my performance required only the gift of speech to render it perfect. The King then ordered his Court to withdraw, saving only his chief Memluk, a young slave, and myself. He then bade us follow him into his private apartment, where he ordered food to be served. When it was ready, he beckoned me to approach and eat. At this I advanced and kissed the ground before him seven times, after which I sat down at the table and ate. When the repast was over I took a broad leaf from the flower-pod of a palm near at hand, and[179] having signed to the slave to bring me pen and ink, wrote upon it the following verse:
Know, O blade that enclosed the flower of the palm!
That what thou protectedst less beautiful seems,
Being now thus revealed, than the favour of Kings
Unbladed to me by the finger of fate.
Having written this, I placed it before the King and arose, and seated myself at a little distance. But when he had read it, his face was distressed with wonder. “This surpasseth all,” said he. “How can an ape possess such skill in the writing and rounding of a verse?” And he was overcome with astonishment. He motioned me to approach him, and said, “Thou art a wonderful ape: drink to me in this my favourite liquor!” And he handed me his cup. I took it and drank, and as soon as I felt the warm impulse of the liquor I was quickened in my inspiration, and wrote upon the cup:
Stronger than the blood of heroes,
Sweeter than a woman’s kiss;
Rare and royal though its savour,
Joy less fine than Kingly favour
Lies in this.
The King took the cup, and read what I had written. “By Allah!” he exclaimed. “Find me the man who hath the skill of this ape!”
Still wondering greatly as to the extent of my learning and intelligence, the King called for a chessboard; and, setting it before me, questioned me by signs as to whether I understood the game. By way of assent, I kissed the ground, and humbly seated myself before the board. Now my name, as a chessplayer, had gone forth through all lands, but it still remained for me, as an ape, to justify that name. Solemn and silent we sat at the board—the King of a vast territory matching his skill (of which I had heard, as he had heard of mine, from afar) against that of an ape. Knowing all the science of the game, much of which I had myself discovered, I tested his skill by various openings, saying within myself, “This game I will not win, provided that I learn his measure.” It so fell out that I lost, and the King, noting the character of my play, was pleased at his success. “Another game,” said he, resetting the pieces.
This time, knowing his play, I held back in my moves, and awaited his openings. At length he made one which I knew, for I myself had invented it. “That,” said he, “is the opening of Prince Eymar, whose treatise I have studied. I will allow thee a space to study it, and reply.” What was his surprise when I replied immediately with the counter move! At that, from excess of wonder, he was unstrung, and, knowing not the following moves as well as I, he lost. Again we played, a third time, and I, seeing from his eagerness that he had still something to spring upon me, fell in with his moves until we reached the position which was the crowning point of my treatise. At length it came to a pass which I well knew. There was only one way out—a pawn in a distant corner of the board. I moved it readily. “By Allah!” he cried, upsetting the board with all that was on it, “thou art the most intelligent—as well as the ugliest—ape I ever saw.” Then, to appease him, I bethought myself of the battlefield of sixty-four squares, and wrote the following stanza on the edge of the board:
Two armies met and fought, and in the fight
Were many slain;
Yet peace succeeded; and that night
Each drank success to each,
And drank again.
During all this, the perplexity of the King had waxed greater and greater. At length, in order that his wonder might be shared by another, he sent for his only daughter—the Lady of Beauty—in order that she might witness these unheard of doings of an ape. No sooner had she entered the apartment than she hastily adjusted her veil. “Sire,” said she, “why dost thou summon me thus into the presence of men?” “Nay, O my daughter,” answered the King, “there is none here but myself, a eunuch, a slave, and this ape.” Her fingers fastened her veil more closely as she replied, “O my father, this that thou callest an ape is no ape at all. Thou knowest I have the gift against enchantment, and I tell thee this is a man, the son of a king, and his name is Prince Eymar. He hath been transformed into this shape by a son of Iblis. Sire, I know this from the teaching of my old nurse, who instructed me in the seventy rules of magic.”
The King was amazed at his daughter’s words, and, looking towards me, said, “I can readily believe that thou art Eymar, for none other could beat me twice at chess. What sayest thou?” And I bowed my head, signifying that what had been said was true, and I wept bitterly. Then said the King to the Lady of Beauty, “O my daughter, if thou hast this power of discernment, which I knew not, perchance thou hast the power also to undo the enchantment wrought upon this Prince. If thou canst, I am minded to make him my Grand Vizier, for there is none like him.” And she replied, “O my father, I know, and I am able. Witness what I shall do.”
The King’s daughter then brought forth a large knife, on the blade of which were strange characters engraven. With this she drew a wide circle upon the floor before us, and inscribed within it many magic signs. This done, she stood within the circle, and sang a wild barbaric chant, at which the place began to grow dark, while the roof and walls and floor creaked and groaned with ominous sounds. Suddenly, while fear gat hold on us, there was a blinding flash, and the Efrite appeared within the circle, immense and hideous, his teeth gnashing, and his eyes flashing fire.
“Traitress!” he cried; “did we not swear never to cross one another’s path?” “Wretch!” she replied, “I took no oath with thee.” At this, the Efrite quickly assumed the form of a lion, and sprang upon her to rend her; but she, being wary, plucked a hair from her head, and breathed upon it, whereupon it was instantly changed into a sharp sword. With this she severed the lion’s head from his body, but the head at once became a scorpion. On this the lady became a serpent, and pursued the scorpion, which then took the form of an eagle. But the lady was now a vulture, and the two fought, screaming, in the air. Anon, the eagle changed to a huge black cat, and the vulture, changing to a wolf, fought with it, until at last the cat, finding itself well-nigh vanquished, assumed the form of a pomegranate, and rolled into a pool at one side of the circle. When the wolf dashed in after it, the pomegranate rose up into the air and burst, its grains being scattered over the floor. Quick as lightning, the wolf changed into a cock, which began picking up the grains. And when it had picked up what we thought were all, it began to flap its wings, and run to and fro, looking, as it were, for the last seed. It ran to us with a terrible cry, then, turning, it espied a seed on the brink of the pool, but[183] ere it could reach it, that seed had rolled into the water, and changed itself into a fish. The cock flew screaming to the pool, and assuming the shape of a pike, dived in. Then there was a terrible commotion in the depths. The water foamed and boiled, and the whole place shook as if monsters of the deep were in conflict. Suddenly there was a mighty cry, as the Efrite rose from the pool, encircled with a flame of fire, which continued to issue from his mouth, his nostrils, and eyes. But beside him, in an instant, was the King’s daughter, also emitting fire. Then began the most deadly contest between them. From their eyes and mouths darted shafts of fire at one another, until they were enshrouded in a dense smoke. Long the battle raged within this murky canopy, until at last the Efrite was driven forth from it. Pursued by the King’s daughter, he rushed at us, and blew fire in our faces, scorching the King’s beard, destroying one of my eyes, and killing the eunuch and the slave outright. But, in a moment, the King’s daughter was upon him. There was a blinding flash, a cry of victory from her, and we looked, and saw the Efrite reduced to a heap of ashes on the floor at her feet.
“It is done!” she said, panting. “He forced me to the last test of fire, and I conquered. Yet I die, for this fire cannot be quenched, except by my life. Quick! bring me here a bowl of water.” I snatched a bowl that stood near by, and ran and dipped some water from the pool. She took it, and having chanted some strange words over the water, sprinkled it upon me, saying: “In the name of Truth, return to thine original form.” At this the pang of change rent my flesh and bones, and I became a man again, as I was before, saving the loss of an eye. But lo! as I looked at the[184] King’s daughter, to thank her, I saw a fire come out of her breast, and envelop her head and face. Moans came from within the flame, and she staggered to and fro with muffled cries: “There is no God but Allah! No God but Allah! and Mohammed is——” Suddenly, there was a flash of of fire, and when the flames had disappeared, there, at our feet, lay a second heap of ashes.
bridge with many people
I mingled my tears with those of the King, and remorse and bitterness took possession of my soul, for, I reflected, this sweet-faced lady had met her death through me. Yet all is as Allah wills it. The whole realm was cast into mourning over this sad event. The King enshrined his daughter’s ashes in a magnificent tomb, and commanded the ashes of the Efrite to be scattered to the four winds. Me he summoned to his presence, and spoke these words: “Would that I had never seen thee, for so I had not lost my daughter. Yet the ways of God are inscrutable, and his will is fulfilled with thee and me. Depart, therefore, O my son, in peace; and think not that I bear thee malice.”
So I went out from his presence, and shaved my beard, and left the City. And thus through many regions have I travelled to gain the Abode of Peace, and lay my case before thee, O Prince of the Faithful.
His story being finished, the Khalifeh spoke. “Thy case is extraordinary,” he said, “and thou hast done well to bring it before me.” And yet, none but Ja’far and Mesrur knew, or even suspected, that he was the Khalifeh. Then, after an interval, the Third Royal Calender rose, and related his story as follows:—
