"The Arabian Nights Entertainments"
" "You need not do that," said the bird, when she had returned to ask counsel. "Break off a twig, and plant it in your garden, and it will take root, and grow into a magnificent tree.""
The Arabian Nights Entertainments
Selected and Edited by Andrew Lang
Illustrated By Rene Bull
H. J. Ford
W. Heath Robinson
Story of Ali Colia, Merchant of Bagdad
In the reign of Haroun-al-Raschid, there lived in Bagdad a merchant named Ali Cogia, who, having neither wife nor child,
contented himself with the modest profits produced by his trade. He had spent some years quite happily in the house his father
had left him, when three nights running he dreamed that an old man had appeared to him, and reproached him for having
neglected the duty of a good Mussulman, in delaying so long his pilgrimage to Mecca.
Ali Cogia was much troubled by this dream, as he was unwilling to give up his shop, and lose all his customers. He had
shut his eyes for some time to the necessity of performing this pilgrimage, and tried to atone to his conscience by an extra
number of good works, but the dream seemed to him a direct warning, and he resolved to put the journey off no longer.
The first thing he did was to sell his furniture and the wares he had in his shop, only reserving to himself such goods as
he might trade with on the road. The shop itself he sold also, and easily found a tenant for his private house. The only
matter he could not settle satisfactorily was the safe custody of a thousand pieces of gold which he wished to leave behind
After some thought, Ali Cogia hit upon a plan which seemed a safe one. He took a large vase, and placing the money in the
bottom of it, filled up the rest with olives. After corking the vase tightly down, he carried it to one of his friends, a
merchant like himself, and said to him:
"My brother, you have probably heard that I am staffing with a caravan in a few days for Mecca. I have come to ask
whether you would do me the favour to keep this vase of olives for me till I come back?"
The merchant replied readily, "Look, this is the key of my shop: take it, and put the vase wherever you like. I promise
that you shall find it in the same place on your return."
A few days later, Ali Cogia mounted the camel that he had laden with merchandise, joined the caravan, and arrived in due
time at Mecca. Like the other pilgrims he visited the sacred Mosque, and after all his religious duties were performed, he
set out his goods to the best advantage, hoping to gain some customers among the passers-by.
Very soon two merchants stopped before the pile, and when they had turned it over, one said to the other:
"If this man was wise he would take these things to Cairo, where he would get a much better price than he is likely to do
Ali Cogia heard the words, and lost no time in following the advice. He packed up his wares, and instead of returning to
Bagdad, joined a caravan that was going to Cairo. The results of the journey gladdened his heart. He sold off everything
almost directly, and bought a stock of Egyptian curiosities, which he intended selling at Damascus; but as the caravan with
which he would have to travel would not be starting for another six weeks, he took advantage of the delay to visit the
Pyramids, and some of the cities along the banks of the Nile.
Now the attractions of Damascus so fascinated the worthy Ali, that he could hardly tear himself away, but at length he
remembered that he had a home in Bagdad, meaning to return by way of Aleppo, and after he had crossed the Euphrates, to follow
the course of the Tigris.
But when he reached Mossoul, Ali had made such friends with some Persian merchants, that they persuaded him to accompany
them to their native land, and even as far as India, and so it came to pass that seven years had slipped by since he had left
Bagdad, and during all that time the friend with whom he had left the vase of olives had never once thought of him or of it.
In fact, it was only a month before Ali Cogia's actual return that the affair came into his head at all, owing to his wife's
remarking one day, that it was a long time since she had eaten any olives, and would like some.
"That reminds me," said the husband, "that before Ali Cogia went to Mecca seven years ago, he left a vase of olives in my
care. But really by this time he must be dead, and there is no reason we should not eat the olives if we like. Give me a
light, and I will fetch them and see how they taste."
"My husband," answered the wife, "beware, I pray, of your doing anything so base! Supposing seven years have passed
without news of Ali Cogia, he need not be dead for all that, and may come back any day. How shameful it would be to have to
confess that you had betrayed your trust and broken the seal of the vase! Pay no attention to my idle words, I really have no
desire for olives now. And probably after all this while they are no longer good. I have a presentiment that Ali Cogia will
return, and what will he think of you? Give it up, I entreat."
The merchant, however, refused to listen to her advice, sensible though it was. He took a light and a dish and went into
"If you will be so obstinate," said his wife, "I cannot help it; but do not blame me if it turns out ill."
When the merchant opened the vase he found the topmost olives were rotten, and in order to see if the under ones were in
better condition he shook some ont into the dish. As they fell out a few of the gold pieces fell out too.
The sight of the money roused all the merchant's greed. He looked into the vase, and saw that all the bottom was filled
with gold. He then replaced the olives and returned to his wife.
"My wife," he said, as he entered the room, "you were quite right; the olives are rotten, and I have recorked the vase so
well that Ali Cogia will never know it has been touched."
"You would have done better to believe me," replied the wife. "I trust that no harm will come of it."
These words made no more impression on the merchant than the others had done; and he spent the whole night in wondering
how he could manage to keep the gold if Ali Cogia should come back and claim his vase. Very early next morning he went out and
bought fresh new olives; he then threw away the old ones, took out the gold and hid it, and filled up the vase with the olives
he had bought. This done he recorked the vase and put it in the same place where it had been left by Ali Cogia.
A month later Ali Cogia re-entered Bagdad, and as his house was still let he went to an inn; and the following day set out
to see his friend the merchant, who received him with open arms and many expressions of surprise. After a few moments given
to inquiries Ali Cogia begged the merchant to hand him over the vase that he had taken care of for so long.
"Oh certainly," said he, "I am only glad I could be of use to you in the matter. Here is the key of my shop; you will
find the vase in the place where you put it."
Ali Cogia fetched his vase and carried it to his room at the inn, where he opened it. He thrust down his hand but could
feel no money, but still was persuaded it must be there. So he got some plates and vessels from his travelling kit and
emptied ont the olives. To no purpose. The gold was not there. The poor man was dumb with horror, then, lifting up his
hands, he exclaimed, "Can my old friend really have committed such a crime?"
In great haste he went back to the house of the merchant. "My friend," he cried, "you will be astonished to see me again,
but I can find nowhere in this vase a thousand pieces of gold that I placed in the bottom under the olives. Perhaps you may
have taken a loan of them for your business purposes; if that is so you are most welcome. I will only ask you to give me a
receipt, and you can pay the money at your leisure."
The merchant, who had expected something of the sort, had his reply all ready. "Ali Cogia," he said, "when you brought me
the vase of olives did I ever touch it?"
"I gave you the key of my shop and you put it yourself where you liked, and did you not find it in exactly the same spot
and in the same state? If you placed any gold in it, it must be there still. I know nothing about that; you only told me
there were olives. You can believe me or not, but I have not laid a finger on the vase."
Ali Cogia still tried every means to persuade the merchant to admit the truth. "I love peace," he said, "and shall deeply
regret having to resort to harsh measures. Once more, think of your reputation. I shall be in despair if you oblige me to
call in the aid of the law."
"Ali Cogia," answered the merchant, "you allow that it was a vase of olives you placed in my charge. You fetched it and
removed it yourself, and now you tell me it contained a thousand pieces of gold, and that I must restore them to you! Did you
ever say anything about them before? Why, I did not even know that the vase had olives in it! Yon never showed them to me.
I wonder you have not demanded pearls or diamonds. Retire, I pray you, lest a crowd should gather in front of my shop."
By this time not only the casual passers-by, but also the neighbouring merchants, were standing round, listening to the
dispute, and trying every now and then to smooth matters between them. But at the merchant's last words Ali Cogia resolved to
lay the cause of the quarrel before them, and told them the whole story. They heard him to the end, and inquired of the
merchant what he had to say.
The accused man admitted that he had kept Ali Cogia's vase in his shop; but he denied having touched it, and swore that as
to what it contained he only knew what Ali Cogia had told him, and called them all to witness the insult that had been put
"You have brought it on yourself," said Ali Cogia, taking him by the arm, "and as you appeal to the law, the law you shall
have! Let us see if you will dare to repeat your story before the Cadi."
Now as a good Mussulman the merchant was forbidden to refuse this choice of a judge, so he accepted the test, and said to
Ali Cogia, "Very well; I should like nothing better. We shall soon see which of us is in the right."
So the two men presented themselves before the Cadi, and Ali Cogia again repeated his tale. The Cadi asked what witnesses
he had. Ali Cogia replied that he had not taken this precaution, as he had considered the man his friend, and up to that time
had always found him honest.
The merchant, on his side, stuck to his story, and offered to swear solemnly that not only had he never stolen the
thousand gold pieces, but that he did not even know they were there. The Cadi allowed him to take the oath, and pronounced
Ali Cogia, furious at having to suffer such a loss, protested against the verdict, declaring that he would appeal to the
Caliph, Haroun-al-Raschid, himself. But the Cadi paid no attention to his threats, and was quite satisfied that he had done
what was right.
Judgment being given the merchant returned home triumphant, and Ali Cogia went back to his inn to draw up a petition to
the Caliph. The next morning he placed himself on the road along which the Caliph must pass after mid-day prayer, and
stretched out his petition to the officer who walked before the Caliph, whose duty it was to collect such things, and on
entering the palace to hand them to his master. There Haroun-al-Raschid studied them carefully.
Knowing this custom, Ali Cogia followed the Caliph into the public hall of the palace, and waited the result. After some
time the officer appeared, and told him that the Caliph had read his petition, and had appointed an hour the next morning to
give him audience. He then inquired the merchant's address, so that he might be summoned to attend also.
That very evening, the Caliph, with his grand-vizir Giafar, and Mesrour, chief of the eunuchs, all three disguised, as was
their habit, went out to take a stroll through the town.
Going down one street, the Caliph's attention was attracted by a noise, and looking through a door which opened into a
court he perceived ten or twelve children playing in the moonlight. He hid himself in a dark corner, and watched them.
"Let us play at being the Cadi," said the brightest and quickest of them all; "I will be the Cadi. Bring before me Ali
Cogia, and the merchant who robbed him of the thousand pieces of gold."
The boy's words recalled to the Caliph the petition he had read that morning, and he waited with interest to see what the
children would do.
The proposal was hailed with joy by the other children, who had heard a great deal of talk about the matter, and they
quickly settled the part each one was to play. The Cadi took his seat gravely, and an officer introduced first Ali Cogia, the
plaintiff, and then the merchant who was the defendant.
Ali Cogia made a low bow, and pleaded his cause point by point; concluding by imploring the Cadi not to inflict on him
such a heavy loss.
The Cadi having heard his case, turned to the merchant, and inquired why he had not repaid Ali Cogia the sum in question.
The false merchant repeated the reasons that the real merchant had given to the Cadi of Bagdad, and also offered to swear
that he had told the truth.
"Stop a moment!" said the little Cadi, "before we come to oaths, I should like to examine the vase with the olives. Ali
Cogia," he added, "have you got the vase with you?" and finding he had not, the Cadi continued, "Go and get it, and bring it
So Ali Cogia disappeared for an instant, and then pretended to lay a vase at the feet of the Cadi, declaring it was his
vase, which he had given to the accused for safe custody; and in order to be quite correct, the Cadi asked the merchant if he
recognised it as the same vase. By his silence the merchant admitted the fact, and the Cadi then commanded to have the vase
opened. Ali Cogia made a movement as if he was taking off the lid, and the little Cadi on his part made a pretence of peering
into a vase.
"What beautiful olives!" he said, "I should like to taste one," and pretending to put one in his mouth, he added, "they
are really excellent!
"But," he went on, "it seems to me odd that olives seven years old should be as good as that! Send for some dealers in
olives, and let us hear what they say!"
Two children were presented to him as olive merchants, and the Cadi addressed them. "Tell me," he said, "how long can
olives be kept so as to be pleasant eating?"
"My lord," replied the merchants, "however much care is taken to preserve them, they never last beyond the third year.
They lose both taste and colour, and are only fit to be thrown away."
"If that is so," answered the little Cadi, "examine this vase, and tell me how long the olives have been in it."
The olive merchants pretended to examine the olives and taste them; then reported to the Cadi that they were fresh and
"You are mistaken," said he, "Ali Cogia declares he put them in that vase seven years ago."
"My lord," returned the olive merchants, "we can assure you that the olives are those of the present year. And if you
consult all the merchants in Bagdad you will not find one to give a contrary opinion."
The accused merchant opened his mouth as if to protest, but the Cadi gave him no time. "Be silent," he said, "you are a
thief. Take him away and hang him." So the game ended, the children clapping their hands in applause, and leading the
criminal away to be hanged.
Haroun-al-Raschid was lost in astonishment at the wisdom of the child, who had given so wise a verdict on the case which
he himself was to hear on the morrow. "Is there any other verdict possible?" he asked the grand-vizir, who was as much
impressed as himself. "I can imagine no better judgment."
"If the circumstances are really such as we have heard," replied the grand-vizir, "it seems to me your Highness could only
follow the example of this boy, in the method of reasoning, and also in your conclusions."
"Then take careful note of this house," said the Caliph, "and bring me the boy to-morrow, so that the affair may be tried
by him in my presence. Summon also the Cadi, to learn his duty from the mouth of a child. Bid Ali Cogia bring his vase of
olives, and see that two dealers in olives are present." So saying the Caliph returned to the palace.
The next morning early, the grand-vizir went back to the house where they had seen the children playing, and asked for the
mistress and her children. Three boys appeared, and the grand-vizir inquired which had represented the Cadi in their game of
the previous evening. The eldest and tallest, changing colour, confessed that it was he, and to his mother's great alarm, the
grand-vizir said that he had strict orders to bring him into the presence of the Caliph.
"Does he want to take my son from me?" cried the poor woman; but the grand-vizir hastened to calm her, by assuring her
that she should have the boy again in an hour, and she would be quite satisfied when she knew the reason of the summons. So
she dressed the boy in his best clothes, and the two left the house.
When the grand-vizir presented the child to the Caliph, he was a little awed and confused, and the Caliph proceeded to
explain why he had sent for him. "Approach, my son," he said kindly. "I think it was you who judged the case of Ali Cogia and
the merchant last night? I overheard you by chance, and was very pleased with the way you conducted it. To-day you will see
the real Ali Cogia and the real merchant. Seat yourself at once next to me."
The Caliph being seated on his throne with the boy next him, the parties to the suit were ushered in. One by one they
prostrated themselves, and touched the carpet at the foot of the throne with their foreheads. When they rose up, the Caliph
said: "Now speak. This child will give you justice, and if more should be wanted I will see to it myself."
Ali Cogia and the merchant pleaded one after the other, but when the merchant offered to swear the same oath that he had
taken before the Cadi, he was stopped by the child, who said that before this was done he must first see the vase of olives.
At these words, Ali Cogia presented the vase to the Caliph, and uncovered it. The Caliph took one of the olives, tasted
it, and ordered the expert merchants to do the same. They pronounced the olives good, and fresh that year. The boy informed
them that Ali Cogia declared it was seven years since he had placed them in the vase; to which they returned the same answer
as the children had done.
The accused merchant saw by this time that his condemnation was certain, and tried to allege something in his defence. The
boy had too much sense to order him to be hanged, and looked at the Caliph, saying, "Commander of the Faithful, this is not a
game now; it is for your Highness to condemn him to death and not for me."
Then the Caliph, convinced that the man was a thief, bade them take him away and hang him, which was done, but not before
he had confessed his guilt and the place in which he had hidden Ali Cogia's money. The Caliph ordered the Cadi to learn how to
deal out justice from the mouth of a child, and sent the boy home, with a purse containing a hundred pieces of gold as a mark
of his favour.
The Enchanted Horse
"He is an abominable magician"
It was the Feast of the New Year, the oldest and most splendid of all the feasts in the Kingdom of Persia, and the day had
been spent by the king in the city of Schiraz, taking part in the magnificent spectacles prepared by his subjects to do honour
to the festival. The sun was setting, and the monarch was about to give his court the signal to retire, when suddenly an
Indian appeared before his throne, leading a horse richly harnessed, and looking in every respect exactly like a real one.
"Sire," said he, prostrating himself as he spoke, "although I make my appearance so late before your Highness, I can
confidently assure you that none of the wonders you have seen during the day can be compared to this horse, if you will deign
to cast your eyes upon him."
"I see nothing in it," replied the king, "except a clever imitation of a real one; and any skilled workman might do as
"Sire," returned the Indian, "it is not of his outward form that I would speak, but of the use that I can make of him. I
have only to mount him, and to wish myself in some special place, and no matter how distant it may be, in a very few moments I
shall find myself there. It is this, Sire, that makes the horse so marvellous, and if your Highness will allow me, you can
prove it for yourself."
The King of Persia, who was interested in every thing out of the common, and had never before come across a horse with
such qualities, bade the Indian mount the animal, and show what he could do. In an instant the man had vaulted on his back,
and inquired where the monarch wished to send him.
"Do you see that mountain?" asked the king, pointing to a huge mass that towered into the sky about three leagues from
Schiraz; "go and bring me the leaf of a palm that grows at the foot."
The words were hardly out of the king's mouth when the Indian turned a screw placed in the horse's neck, close to the
saddle, and the animal bounded like lightning up into the air, and was soon beyond the sight even of the sharpest eyes. In a
quarter of an hour the Indian was seen returning, bearing in his hand the palm, and, guiding his horse to the foot of the
throne, he dismounted, and laid the leaf before the king.
Now the monarch had no sooner proved the astonishing speed of which the horse was capable than he longed to possess it
himself, and indeed, so sure was he that the Indian would be quite ready to sell it, that he looked upon it as his own
"I never guessed from his mere outside how valuable an animal he was," he remarked to the Indian, "and I am grateful to
you for having shown me my error," said he. "If you will sell it, name your own price."
"Sire," replied the Indian, "I never doubted that a sovereign so wise and accomplished as your Highness would do justice
to my horse, when he once knew its power; and I even went so far as to think it probable that you might wish to possess it.
Greatly as I prize it, I will yield it up to your Highness on one condition. The horse was not constructed by me, but it was
given me by the inventor, in exchange for my only daughter, who made me take a solemn oath that I would never part with it,
except for some object of equal value."
"Name anything you like," cried the monarch, interrupting him. "My kingdom is large, and filled with fair cities. You
have only to choose which you would prefer, to become its ruler to the end of your life."
"Sire," answered the Indian, to whom the proposal did not seem nearly so generous as it appeared to the king, "I am most
grateful to your Highness for your princely offer, and beseech you not to be offended with me if I say that I can only deliver
up my horse in exchange for the hand of the princess your daughter."
A shout of laughter burst from the courtiers as they heard these words, and Prince Firouz Schah, the heir apparent, was
filled with anger at the Indian's presumption. The king, however, thought that it would not cost him much to part from the
princess in order to gain such a delightful toy, and while he was hesitating as to his answer the prince broke in.
"Sire," he said, "it is not possible that you can doubt for an instant what reply you should give to such an insolent
bargain. Consider what you owe to yourself, and to the blood of your ancestors."
"My son," replied the king, "you speak nobly, but you do not realise either the value of the horse, or the fact that if I
reject the proposal of the Indian, he will only make the same to some other monarch, and I should be filled with despair at
the thought that anyone but myself should own this Seventh Wonder of the World. Of course I do not say that I shall accept his
conditions, and perhaps he may be brought to reason, but meanwhile I should like you to examine the horse, and, with the
owner's permission, to make trial of its powers."
The Indian, who had overheard the king's speech, thought that he saw in it signs of yielding to his proposal, so he
joyfully agreed to the monarch's wishes, and came forward to help the prince to mount the horse, and show him how to guide it:
but, before he had finished, the young man turned the screw, and was soon out of sight.
They waited some time, expecting that every moment he might be seen returning in the distance, but at length the Indian
grew frightened, and prostrating himself before the throne, he said to the king, "Sire, your Highness must have noticed that
the prince, in his impatience, did not allow me to tell him what it was necessary to do in order to return to the place from
which he started. I implore you not to punish me for what was not my fault, and not to visit on me any misfortune that may
"But why," cried the king in a burst of fear and anger, "why did you not call him back when you saw him disappearing?"
"Sire," replied the Indian, "the rapidity of his movements took me so by surprise that he was out of hearing before I
recovered my speech. But we must hope that he will perceive and turn a second screw, which will have the effect of bringing
the horse back to earth."
"But supposing he does!" answered the king, "what is to hinder the horse from descending straight into the sea, or dashing
him to pieces on the rocks?"
"Have no fears, your Highness," said the Indian; "the horse has the gift of passing over seas, and of carrying his rider
wherever he wishes to go."
"Well, your head shall answer for it," returned the monarch, "and if in three months he is not safe back with me, or at
any rate does not send me news of his safety, your life shall pay the penalty." So saying, he ordered his guards to seize the
Indian and throw him into prison.
Meanwhile, Prince Firouz Schah had gone gaily up into the air, and for the space of an hour continued to ascend higher and
higher, till the very mountains were not distinguishable from the plains. Then he began to think it was time to come down, and
took for granted that, in order to do this, it was only needful to turn the screw the reverse way; but, to his surprise and
horror, he found that, turn as he might, he did not make the smallest impression. He then remembered that he had never waited
to ask how he was to get back to earth again, and understood the danger in which he stood. Luckily, he did not lose his head,
and set about examining the horse's neck with great care, till at last, to his intense joy, he discovered a tiny little peg,
much smaller than the other, close to the right ear. This he turned, and found him-self dropping to the earth, though more
slowly than he had left it.
It was now dark, and as the prince could see nothing, he was obliged, not without some feeling of disquiet, to allow the
horse to direct his own course, and midnight was already passed before Prince Firouz Schah again touched the ground, faint and
weary from his long ride, and from the fact that he had eaten nothing since early morning.
The first thing he did on dismounting was to try to find out where he was, and, as far as he could discover in the thick
darkness, he found himself on the terraced roof of a huge palace, with a balustrade of marble running round. In one corner of
the terrace stood a small door, opening on to a staircase which led down into the palace.
Some people might have hesitated before exploring further, but not so the prince. "I am doing no harm," he said, "and
whoever the owner may be, he will not touch me when he sees I am unarmed," and in dread of making a false step, he went
cautiously down the staircase. On a landing, he noticed an open door, beyond which was a faintly lighted hall.
Before entering, the prince paused and listened, but he heard nothing except the sound of men snoring. By the light of a
lantern suspended from the roof, he perceived a row of black guards sleeping, each with a naked sword lying by him, and he
understood that the hall must form the ante-room to the chamber of some queen or princess.
Standing quite still, Prince Firouz Schah looked about him, till his eyes grew accustomed to the gloom, and he noticed a
bright light shining through a curtain in one corner. He then made his way softly towards it, and, drawing aside its folds,
passed into a magnificent chamber full of sleeping women, all lying on low couches, except one, who was on a sofa; and this
one, he knew, must be the princess.
Gently stealing up to the side of her bed he looked at her, and saw that she was more beautiful than any woman he had ever
beheld. But, fascinated though he was, he was well aware of the danger of his position, as one cry of surprise would awake the
guards, and cause his certain death.
So sinking quietly on his knees, he took hold of the sleeve of the princess and drew her arm lightly towards him. The
princess opened her eyes, and seeing before her a handsome well-dressed man, she remained speechless with astonishment.
This favourable moment was seized by the prince, who bowing low while he knelt, thus addressed her:
"You behold, madame, a prince in distress, son to the King of Persia, who, owing to an adventure so strange that you will
scarcely believe it, finds himself here, a suppliant for your protection. But yesterday, I was in my father's court, engaged
in the celebration of our most solemn festival; to-day, I am in an unknown land, in danger of my life."
Now the princess whose mercy Prince Firouz Schah implored was the eldest daughter of the King of Bengal, who was enjoying
rest and change in the palace her father had built her, at a little distance from the capital. She listened kindly to what he
had to say, and then answered:
"Prince, be not uneasy; hospitality and humanity are practised as widely in Bengal as they are in Persia. The protection
you ask will be given you by all. You have my word for it." And as the prince was about to thank her for her goodness, she
added quickly, "However great may be my curiosity to learn by what means you have travelled here so speedily, I know that you
must be faint for want of food, so I shall give orders to my women to take you to one of my chambers, where you will be
provided with supper, and left to repose."
By this time the princess's attendants were all awake, and listening to the conversation. At a sign from their mistress
they rose, dressed themselves hastily, and snatching up some of the tapers which lighted the room, conducted the prince to a
large and lofty room, where two of the number prepared his bed, and the rest went down to the kitchen, from which they soon
returned with all sorts of dishes. Then, showing him cupboards filled with dresses and linen, they quitted the room.
During their absence the Princess of Bengal, who had been greatly struck by the beauty of the prince, tried in vain to go
to sleep again. It was of no use: she felt broad awake, and when her women entered the room, she inquired eagerly if the
prince had all he wanted, and what they thought of him.
"Madame," they replied, "it is of course impossible for us to tell what impression this young man has made on you. For
ourselves, we think you would be fortunate if the king your father should allow you to marry anyone so amiable. Certainly
there is no one in the Court of Bengal who can be compared with him."
These flattering observations were by no means displeasing to the princess, but as she did not wish to betray her own
feelings she merely said, "You are all a set of chatterboxes; go back to bed, and let me sleep."
When she dressed the following morning, her maids noticed that, contrary to her usual habit, the princess was very
particular about her toilette, and insisted on her hair being dressed two or three times over. "For," she said to herself,
"if my appearance was not displeasing to the prince when he saw me in the condition I was, how much more will he be struck
with me when he beholds me with all my charms."
Then she placed in her hair the largest and most brilliant diamonds she could find, with a necklace, bracelets and girdle,
all of precious stones. And over her shoulders her ladies put a robe of the richest stuff in all the Indies, that no one was
allowed to wear except members of the royal family. When she was fully dressed according to her wishes, she sent to know if
the Prince of Persia was awake and ready to receive her, as she desired to present herself before him.
When the princess's messenger entered his room, Prince Firouz Schah was in the act of leaving it, to inquire if he might
be allowed to pay his homage to her mistress: but on hearing the princess's wishes, he at once gave way. "Her will is my
law," he said, "I am only here to obey her orders."
In a few moments the princess herself appeared, and after the usual compliments had passed between them, the princess sat
down on a sofa, and began to explain to the prince her reasons for not giving him an audience in her own apartments. "Had I
done so," she said, "we might have been interrupted at any hour by the chief of the eunuchs, who has the right to enter
whenever it pleases him, whereas this is forbidden ground. I am all impatience to learn the wonderful accident which has
procured the pleasure of your arrival, and that is why I have come to you here, where no one can intrude upon us. Begin then,
I entreat you, without delay."
So the prince began at the beginning, and told all the story of the festival of Nedrouz held yearly in Persia, and of the
splendid spectacles celebrated in its honour. But when he came to the enchanted horse, the princess declared that she could
never have imagined anything half so surprising. "Well then," continued the prince, "you can easily understand how the King
my father, who has a passion for all curious things, was seized with a violent desire to possess this horse, and asked the
Indian what sum he would take for it.
"The man's answer was absolutely absurd, as you will agree, when I tell you that it was nothing less than the hand of the
princess my sister; but though all the bystanders laughed and mocked, and I was beside myself with rage, I saw to my despair
that my father could not make up his mind to treat the insolent proposal as it deserved. I tried to argue with him, but in
vain. He only begged me to examine the horse with a view (as I quite understood) of making me more sensible of its value."
"To please my father, I mounted the horse, and, without waiting for any instructions from the Indian, turned the peg as I
had seen him do. In an instant I was soaring upwards, much quicker than an arrow could fly, and I felt as if I must be
getting so near the sky that I should soon hit my head against it! I could see nothing beneath me, and for some time was so
confused that I did not even know in what direction I was travelling. At last, when it was growing dark, I found another
screw, and on turning it, the horse began slowly to sink towards the earth. I was forced to trust to chance, and to see what
fate had in store, and it was already past midnight when I found myself on the roof of this palace. I crept down the little
staircase, and made directly for a light which I perceived through an open door--I peeped cautiously in, and saw, as you will
guess, the eunuchs lying asleep on the floor. I knew the risks I ran, but my need was so great that I paid no attention to
them, and stole safely past your guards, to the curtain which concealed your doorway.
"The rest, Princess, you know; and it only remains for me to thank you for the kindness you have shown me, and to assure
you of my gratitude. By the law of nations, I am already your slave, and I have only my heart, that is my own, to offer you.
But what am I saying? My own? Alas, madame, it was yours from the first moment I beheld you!"
The air with which he said these words could have left no doubt on the mind of the princess as to the effect of her
charms, and the blush which mounted to her face only increased her beauty.
"Prince," returned she as soon as her confusion permitted her to speak, "you have given me the greatest pleasure, and I
have followed you closely in all your adventures, and though you are positively sitting before me, I even trembled at your
danger in the upper regions of the air! Let me say what a debt I owe to the chance that has led you to my house; you could
have entered none which would have given you a warmer welcome. As to your being a slave, of course that is merely a joke, and
my reception must itself have assured you that you are as free here as at your father's court. As to your heart," continued
she in tones of encouragement, "I am quite sure that must have been disposed of long ago, to some princess who is well worthy
of it, and I could not think of being the cause of your unfaithfulness to her."
Prince Firouz Schah was about to protest that there was no lady with any prior claims, but he was stopped by the entrance
of one of the princess's attendants, who announced that dinner was served, and, after all, neither was sorry for the
Dinner was laid in a magnificent apartment, and the table was covered with delicious fruits; while during the repast
richly dressed girls sang softly and sweetly to stringed instruments. After the prince and princess had finished, they passed
into a small room hung with blue and gold, looking out into a garden stocked with flowers and arbutus trees, quite different
from any that were to be found in Persia.
"Princess," observed the young man, "till now I had always believed that Persia could boast finer palaces and more lovely
gardens than any kingdom upon earth. But my eyes have been opened, and I begin to perceive that, wherever there is a great
king he will surround himself with buildings worthy of him."
"Prince," replied the Princess of Bengal, "I have no idea what a Persian palace is like, so I am unable to make
comparisons. I do not wish to depreciate my own palace, but I can assure you that it is very poor beside that of the King my
father, as you will agree when you have been there to greet him, as I hope you will shortly do."
Now the princess hoped that, by bringing about a meeting between the prince and her father, the King would be so struck
with the young man's distinguished air and fine manners, that he would offer him his daughter to wife. But the reply of the
Prince of Persia to her suggestion was not quite what she wished.
"Madame," he said, "by taking advantage of your proposal to visit the palace of the King of Bengal, I should satisfy not
merely my curiosity, but also the sentiments of respect with which I regard him. But, Princess, I am persuaded that you will
feel with me, that I cannot possibly present myself before so great a sovereign without the attendants suitable to my rank.
He would think me an adventurer."
"If that is all," she answered, "you can get as many attendants here as you please. There are plenty of Persian
merchants, and as for money, my treasury is always open to you. Take what you please."
Prince Firouz Schah guessed what prompted so much kindness on the part of the princess, and was much touched by it. Still
his passion, which increased every moment, did not make him forget his duty. So he replied without hesitation:
"I do not know, Princess, how to express my gratitude for your obliging offer, which I would accept at once if it were not
for the recollection of all the uneasiness the King my father must be suffering on my account. I should be unworthy indeed of
all the love he showers upon me, if I did not return to him at the first possible moment. For, while I am enjoying the
society of the most amiable of all princesses, he is, I am quite convinced, plunged in the deepest grief, having lost all hope
of seeing me again. I am sure you will understand my position, and will feel that to remain away one instant longer than is
necessary would not only be ungrateful on my part, but perhaps even a crime, for how do I know if my absence may not break his
"But," continued the prince, "having obeyed the voice of my conscience, I shall count the moments when, with your gracious
permission, I may present myself before the King of Bengal, not as a wanderer, but as a prince, to implore the favour of your
hand. My father has always informed me that in my marriage I shall be left quite free, but I am persuaded that I have only to
describe your generosity, for my wishes to become his own."
The Princess of Bengal was too reasonable not to accept the explanation offered by Prince Firouz Schah, but she was much
disturbed at his intention of departing at once, for she feared that, no sooner had he left her, than the impression she had
made on him would fade away. So she made one more effort to keep him, and after assuring him that she entirely approved of his
anxiety to see his father, begged him to give her a day or two more of his company.
In common politeness the prince could hardly refuse this request, and the princess set about inventing every kind of
amusement for him, and succeeded so well that two months slipped by almost unnoticed, in balls, spectacles and in hunting, of
which, when unattended by danger, the princess was passionately fond. But at last, one day, he declared seriously that he
could neglect his duty no longer, and entreated her to put no further obstacles in his way, promising at the same time to
return, as soon as he could, with all the magnificence due both to her and to himself.
"Princess," he added, "it may be that in your heart you class me with those false lovers whose devotion cannot stand the
test of absence. If you do, you wrong me; and were it not for fear of offending you, I would beseech you to come with me, for
my life can only be happy when passed with you. As for your reception at the Persian Court, it will be as warm as your merits
deserve; and as for what concerns the King of Bengal, he must be much more indifferent to your welfare than you have led me to
believe if he does not give his consent to our marriage."
The princess could not find words in which to reply to the arguments of the Prince of Persia, but her silence and her
downcast eyes spoke for her, and declared that she had no objection to accompanying him on his travels.
The only difficulty that occurred to her was that Prince Firouz Schah did not know how to manage the horse, and she
dreaded lest they might find themselves in the same plight as before. But the prince soothed her fears so successfully, that
she soon had no other thought than to arrange for their flight so secretly, that no one in the palace should suspect it.
This was done, and early the following morning, when the whole palace was wrapped in sleep, she stole up on to the roof,
where the prince was already awaiting her, with his horse's head towards Persia. He mounted first and helped the princess up
behind; then, when she was firmly seated, with her hands holding tightly to his belt, he touched the screw, and the horse
began to leave the earth quickly behind him.
He travelled with his accustomed speed, and Prince Firouz Schah guided him so well that in two hours and a half from the
time of starting, he saw the capital of Persia lying beneath him. He determined to alight neither in the great square from
which he had started, nor in the Sultan's palace, but in a country house at a little distance from the town. Here he showed
the princess a beautiful suite of rooms, and begged her to rest, while he informed his father of their arrival, and prepared a
public reception worthy of her rank. Then he ordered a horse to be saddled, and set out.
All the way through the streets he was welcomed with shouts of joy by the people, who had long lost all hope of seeing him
again. On reaching the palace, he found the Sultan surrounded by his ministers, all clad in the deepest mourning, and his
father almost went out of his mind with surprise and delight at the mere sound of his son's voice. When he had calmed down a
little, he begged the prince to relate his adventures.
The prince at once seized the opening thus given him, and told the whole story of his treatment by the Princess of Bengal,
not even concealing the fact that she had fallen in love with him. "And, Sire," ended the prince, "having given my royal word
that you would not refuse your consent to our marriage, I persuaded her to return with me on the Indian's horse. I have left
her in one of your Highness's country houses, where she is waiting anxiously to be assured that I have not promised in vain."
As he said this the prince was about to throw himself at the feet of the Sultan, but his father prevented him, and
embracing him again, said eagerly:
"My son, not only do I gladly consent to your marriage with the Princess of Bengal, but I will hasten to pay my respects
to her, and to thank her in my own person for the benefits she has conferred on you. I will then bring her back with me, and
make all arrangements for the wedding to be celebrated to-day."
So the Sultan gave orders that the habits of mourning worn by the people should be thrown off and that there should be a
concert of drums, trumpets and cymbals. Also that the Indian should be taken from prison, and brought before him.
His commands were obeyed, and the Indian was led into his presence, surrounded by guards. "I have kept you locked up,"
said the Sultan, "so that in case my son was lost, your life should pay the penalty. He has now returned; so take your horse,
and begone for ever."
The Indian hastily quitted the presence of the Sultan, and when he was outside, he inquired of the man who had taken him
out of prison where the prince had really been all this time, and what he had been doing. They told him the whole story, and
how the Princess of Bengal was even then awaiting in the country palace the consent of the Sultan, which at once put into the
Indian's head a plan of revenge for the treatment he had experienced. Going straight to the country house, he informed the
doorkeeper who was left in charge that he had been sent by the Sultan and by the Prince of Persia to fetch the princess on the
enchanted horse, and to bring her to the palace.
The doorkeeper knew the Indian by sight, and was of course aware that nearly three months before he had been thrown into
prison by the Sultan; and seeing him at liberty, the man took for granted that he was speaking the truth, and made no
difficulty about leading him before the Princess of Bengal; while on her side, hearing that he had come from the prince, the
lady gladly consented to do what he wished.
The Indian, delighted with the success of his scheme, mounted the horse, assisted the princess to mount behind him, and
turned the peg at the very moment that the prince was leaving the palace in Schiraz for the country house, followed closely by
the Sultan and all the court. Knowing this, the Indian deliberately steered the horse right above the city, in order that his
revenge for his unjust imprisonment might be all the quicker and sweeter.
When the Sultan of Persia saw the horse and its riders, he stopped short with astonishment and horror, and broke out into
oaths and curses, which the Indian heard quite unmoved, knowing that he was perfectly safe from pursuit. But mortified and
furious as the Sultan was, his feelings were nothing to those of Prince Firouz Schah, when he saw the object of his passionate
devotion being borne rapidly away. And while he was struck speechless with grief and remorse at not having guarded her better,
she vanished swiftly out of his sight. What was he to do? Should he follow his father into the palace, and there give reins
to his despair? Both his love and his courage alike forbade it; and he continued his way to the palace.
The sight of the prince showed the doorkeeper of what folly he had been guilty, and flinging himself at his master's feet,
implored his pardon. "Rise," said the prince, "I am the cause of this misfortune, and not you. Go and find me the dress of a
dervish, but beware of saying it is for me."
At a short distance from the country house, a convent of dervishes was situated, and the superior, or scheih, was the
doorkeeper's friend. So by means of a false story made up on the spur of the moment, it was easy enough to get hold of a
dervish's dress, which the prince at once put on, instead of his own. Disguised like this and concealing about him a box of
pearls and diamonds he had intended as a present to the princess, he left the house at nightfall, uncertain where he should
go, but firmly resolved not to return without her.
Meanwhile the Indian had turned the horse in such a direction that, before many hours had passed, it had entered a wood
close to the capital of the kingdom of Cashmere. Feeling very hungry, and supposing that the princess also might be in want
of food, he brought his steed down to the earth, and left the princess in a shady place, on the banks of a clear stream.
At first, when the princess had found herself alone, the idea had occurred to her of trying to escape and hide herself.
But as she had eaten scarcely anything since she had left Bengal, she felt she was too weak to venture far, and was obliged to
abandon her design. On the return of the Indian with meats of various kinds, she began to eat voraciously, and soon had
regained sufficient courage to reply with spirit to his insolent remarks. Goaded by his threats she sprang to her feet,
calling loudly for help, and luckily her cries were heard by a troop of horsemen, who rode up to inquire what was the matter.
Now the leader of these horsemen was the Sultan of Cashmere, returning from the chase, and he instantly turned to the
Indian to inquire who he was, and whom he had with him. The Indian rudely answered that it was his wife, and there was no
occasion for anyone else to interfere between them.
The princess, who, of course, was ignorant of the rank of her deliverer, denied altogether the Indian's story. "My lord,"
she cried, "whoever you may be, put no faith in this impostor. He is an abominable magician, who has this day torn me from the
Prince of Persia, my destined husband, and has brought me here on this enchanted horse." She would have continued, but her
tears choked her, and the Sultan of Cashmere, convinced by her beauty and her distinguished air of the truth of her tale,
ordered his followers to cut off the Indian's head, which was done immediately.
But rescued though she was from one peril, it seemed as if she had only fallen into another. The Sultan commanded a horse
to be given her, and conducted her to his own palace, where he led her to a beautiful apartment, and selected female slaves to
wait on her, and eunuchs to be her guard. Then, without allowing her time to thank him for all he had done, he bade her
repose, saying she should tell him her adventures on the following day.
The princess fell asleep, flattering herself that she had only to relate her story for the Sultan to be touched by
compassion, and to restore her to the prince without delay. But a few hours were to undeceive her.
When the King of Cashmere had quitted her presence the evening before, he had resolved that the sun should not set again
without the princess becoming his wife, and at daybreak proclamation of his intention was made throughout the town, by the
sound of drums, trumpets, cymbals, and other instruments calculated to fill the heart with joy. The Princess of Bengal was
early awakened by the noise, but she did not for one moment imagine that it had anything to do with her, till the Sultan,
arriving as soon as she was dressed to inquire after her health, informed her that the trumpet blasts she heard were part of
the solemn marriage ceremonies, for which he begged her to prepare. This unexpected announcement caused the princess such
terror that she sank down in a dead faint.
The slaves that were in waiting ran to her aid, and the Sultan himself did his best to bring her back to consciousness,
but for a long while it was all to no purpose. At length her senses began slowly to come back to her, and then, rather than
break faith with the Prince of Persia by consenting to such a marriage, she determined to feign madness. So she began by
saying all sorts of absurdities, and using all kinds of strange gestures, while the Sultan stood watching her with sorrow and
surprise. But as this sudden seizure showed no sign of abating, he left her to her women, ordering them to take the greatest
care of her. Still, as the day went on, the malady seemed to become worse, and by night it was almost violent.
Days passed in this manner, till at last the Sultan of Cashmere decided to summon all the doctors of his court to consult
together over her sad state. Their answer was that madness is of so many different kinds that it was impossible to give an
opinion on the case without seeing the princess, so the Sultan gave orders that they were to be introduced into her chamber,
one by one, every man according to his rank.
This decision had been foreseen by the princess, who knew quite well that if once she allowed the physicians to feel her
pulse, the most ignorant of them would discover that she was in perfectly good health, and that her madness was feigned, so as
each man approached, she broke out into such violent paroxysms, that not one dared to lay a finger on her. A few, who
pretended to be cleverer than the rest, declared that they could diagnose sick people only from sight, ordered her certain
potions, which she made no difficulty about taking, as she was persuaded they were all harmless.
When the Sultan of Cashmere saw that the court doctors could do nothing towards curing the princess, he called in those of
the city, who fared no better. Then he had recourse to the most celebrated physicians in the other large towns, but finding
that the task was beyond their science, he finally sent messengers into the other neighbouring states, with a memorandum
containing full particulars of the princess's madness, offering at the same time to pay the expenses of any physician who
would come and see for himself, and a handsome reward to the one who should cure her. In answer to this proclamation many
foreign professors flocked into Cashmere, but they naturally were not more successful than the rest had been, as the cure
depended neither on them nor their skill, but only on the princess herself.
It was during this time that Prince Firouz Schah, wandering sadly and hopelessly from place to place, arrived in a large
city of India, where he heard a great deal of talk about the Princess of Bengal who had gone out of her senses, on the very
day that she was to have been married to the Sultan of Cashmere. This was quite enough to induce him to take the road to
Cashmere, and to inquire at the first inn at which he lodged in the capital the full particulars of the story. When he knew
that he had at last found the princess whom he had so long lost, he set about devising a plan for her rescue.
The first thing he did was to procure a doctor's robe, so that his dress, added to the long beard he had allowed to grow
on his travels, might unmistakably proclaim his profession. He then lost no time in going to the palace, where he obtained an
audience of the chief usher, and while apologising for his boldness in presuming to think that he could cure the princess,
where so many others had failed, declared that he had the secret of certain remedies, which had hitherto never failed of their
The chief usher assured him that he was heartily welcome, and that the Sultan would receive him with pleasure; and in case
of success, he would gain a magnificent reward.
When the Prince of Persia, in the disguise of a physician, was brought before him, the Sultan wasted no time in talking,
beyond remarking that the mere sight of a doctor threw the princess into transports of rage. He then led the prince up to a
room under the roof, which had an opening through which he might observe the princess, without himself being seen.
The prince looked, and beheld the princess reclining on a sofa with tears in her eyes, singing softly to herself a song
bewailing her sad destiny, which had deprived her, perhaps for ever, of a being she so tenderly loved. The young man's heart
beat fast as he listened, for he needed no further proof that her madness was feigned, and that it was love of him which had
caused her to resort to this species of trick. He softly left his hiding-place, and returned to the Sultan, to whom he
reported that he was sure from certain signs that the princess's malady was not incurable, but that he must see her and speak
with her alone.
The Sultan made no difficulty in consenting to this, and commanded that he should be ushered in to the princess's
apartment. The moment she caught sight of his physician's robe, she sprang from her seat in a fury, and heaped insults upon
him. The prince took no notice of her behaviour, and approaching quite close, so that his words might be heard by her alone,
he said in a low whisper, "Look at me, princess, and you will see that I am no doctor, but the Prince of Persia, who has come
to set you free."
At the sound of his voice, the Princess of Bengal suddenly grew calm, and an expression of joy overspread her face, such
as only comes when what we wish for most and expect the least suddenly happens to us. For some time she was too enchanted to
speak, and Prince Firouz Schah took advantage of her silence to explain to her all that had occurred, his despair at watching
her disappear before his very eyes, the oath he had sworn to follow her over the world, and his rapture at finally discovering
her in the palace at Cashmere. When he had finished, he begged in his turn that the princess would tell him how she had come
there, so that he might the better devise some means of rescuing her from the tyranny of the Sultan.
It needed but a few words from the princess to make him acquainted with the whole situation, and how she had been forced
to play the part of a mad woman in order to escape from a marriage with the Sultan, who had not had sufficient politeness even
to ask her consent. If necessary, she added, she had resolved to die sooner than permit herself to be forced into such a
union, and break faith with a prince whom she loved.
The prince then inquired if she knew what had become of the enchanted horse since the Indian's death, but the princess
could only reply that she had heard nothing about it. Still she did not suppose that the horse could have been forgotten by
the Sultan, after all she had told him of its value.
To this the prince agreed, and they consulted together over a plan by which she might be able to make her escape and
return with him into Persia. And as the first step, she was to dress herself with care, and receive the Sultan with civility
when he visited her next morning.
The Sultan was transported with delight on learning the result of the interview, and his opinion of the doctor's skill was
raised still higher when, on the following day, the princess behaved towards him in such a way as to persuade him that her
complete cure would not be long delayed. However he contented himself with assuring her how happy he was to see her health so
much improved, and exhorted her to make every use of so clever a physician, and to repose entire confidence in him. Then he
retired, without awaiting any reply from the princess.
The Prince of Persia left the room at the same time, and asked if he might be allowed humbly to inquire by what means the
Princess of Bengal had reached Cashmere, which was so far distant from her father's kingdom, and how she came to be there
alone. The Sultan thought the question very natural, and told him the same story that the Princess of Bengal had done, adding
that he had ordered the enchanted horse to be taken to his treasury as a curiosity, though he was quite ignorant how it could
"Sire," replied the physician, "your Highness's tale has supplied me with the clue I needed to complete the recovery of
the princess. During her voyage hither on an enchanted horse, a portion of its enchantment has by some means been communicated
to her person, and it can only be dissipated by certain perfumes of which I possess the secret. If your Highness will deign
to consent, and to give the court and the people one of the most astonishing spectacles they have ever witnessed, command the
horse to be brought into the big square outside the palace, and leave the rest to me. I promise that in a very few moments,
in presence of all the assembled multitude, you shall see the princess as healthy both in mind and body as ever she was in her
life. And in order to make the spectacle as impressive as possible, I would suggest that she should be richly dressed and
covered with the noblest jewels of the crown."
The Sultan readily agreed to all that the prince proposed, and the following morning he desired that the enchanted horse
should be taken from the treasury, and brought into the great square of the palace. Soon the rumour began to spread through
the town, that something extraordinary was about to happen, and such a crowd began to collect that the guards had to be called
out to keep order, and to make a way for the enchanted horse.
When all was ready, the Sultan appeared, and took his place on a platform, surrounded by the chief nobles and officers of
his court. When they were seated, the Princess of Bengal was seen leaving the palace, accompanied by the ladies who had been
assigned to her by the Sultan. She slowly approached the enchanted horse, and with the help of her ladies, she mounted on its
back. Directly she was in the saddle, with her feet in the stirrups and the bridle in her hand, the physician placed around
the horse some large braziers full of burning coals, into each of which he threw a perfume composed of all sorts of delicious
scents. Then he crossed his hands over his breast, and with lowered eyes walked three times round the horse, muttering the
while certain words. Soon there arose from the burning braziers a thick smoke which almost concealed both the horse and
princess, and this was the moment for which he had been waiting.
Springing lightly up behind the lady, he leaned forward and
turned the peg, and as the horse darted up into the air, he cried aloud so that his words were heard by all present, "Sultan
of Cashmere, when you wish to marry princesses who have sought your protection, learn first to gain their consent."
It was in this way that the Prince of Persia rescued the Princess of Bengal, and returned with her to Persia, where they
descended this time before the palace of the King himself. The marriage was only delayed just long enough to make the
ceremony as brilliant as possible, and, as soon as the rejoicings were over, an ambassador was sent to the King of Bengal, to
inform him of what had passed, and to ask his approbation of the alliance between the two countries, which he heartily gave.
The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their Younger Sister
The mountain of terror and danger
Once upon a time there reigned over Persia a Sultan named Kosrouschah, who from his boyhood had been fond of putting on a
disguise and seeking adventures in all parts of the city, accompanied by one of his officers, disguised like himself. And no
sooner was his father buried and the ceremonies over that marked his accession to the throne, than the young man hastened to
throw off his robes of state, and calling to his vizir to make ready likewise, stole out in the simple dress of a private
citizen into the less known streets of the capital.
Passing down a lonely street, the Sultan heard women's voices in loud discussion; and peeping through a crack in the door,
he saw three sisters, sitting on a sofa in a large hall, talking in a very lively and earnest manner. Judging from the few
words that reached his ear, they were each explaining what sort of men they wished to marry.
"I ask nothing better," cried the eldest, "than to have the Sultan's baker for a husband. Think of being able to eat as
much as one wanted, of that delicious bread that is baked for his Highness alone! Let us see if your wish is as good as mine."
"I," replied the second sister, "should be quite content with the Sultan's head cook. What delicate stews I should feast
upon! And, as I am persuaded that the Sultan's bread is used all through the palace, I should have that into the bargain. You
see, my dear sister, my taste is as good as yours."
It was now the turn of the youngest sister, who was by far the most beautiful of the three, and had, besides, more sense
than the other two. "As for me," she said, "I should take a higher flight; and if we are to wish for husbands, nothing less
than the Sultan himself will do for me."
The Sultan was so much amused by the conversation he had overheard, that he made up his mind to gratify their wishes, and
turning to the grand-vizir, he bade him note the house, and on the following morning to bring the ladies into his presence.
The grand-vizir fulfilled his commission, and hardly giving them time to change their dresses, desired the three sisters
to follow him to the palace. Here they were presented one by one, and when they had bowed before the Sultan, the sovereign
abruptly put the question to them:
"Tell me, do you remember what you wished for last night, when you were making merry? Fear nothing, but answer me the
These words, which were so unexpected, threw the sisters into great confusion, their eyes fell, and the blushes of the
youngest did not fail to make an impression on the heart of the Sultan. All three remained silent, and he hastened to
continue: "Do not be afraid, I have not the slightest intention of giving you pain, and let me tell you at once, that I know
the wishes formed by each one. You," he said, turning to the youngest, "who desired to have me for an husband, shall be
satisfied this very day. And you," he added, addressing himself to the other two, "shall be married at the same moment to my
baker and to my chief cook."
When the Sultan had finished speaking the three sisters flung themselves at his feet, and the youngest faltered out, "Oh,
sire, since you know my foolish words, believe, I pray you, that they were only said in joke. I am unworthy of the honour you
propose to do me, and I can only ask pardon for my boldness."
The other sisters also tried to excuse themselves, but the Sultan would hear nothing.
"No, no," he said, "my mind is made up. Your wishes shall be accomplished."
So the three weddings were celebrated that same day, but with a great difference. That of the youngest was marked by all
the magnificence that was customary at the marriage of the Shah of Persia, while the festivities attending the nuptials of the
Sultan's baker and his chief cook were only such as were suitable to their conditions.
This, though quite natural, was highly displeasing to the elder sisters, who fell into a passion of jealousy, which in the
end caused a great deal of trouble and pain to several people. And the first time that they had the opportunity of speaking to
each other, which was not till several days later at a public bath, they did not attempt to disguise their feelings.
"Can you possibly understand what the Sultan saw in that little cat," said one to the other, "for him to be so fascinated
"He must be quite blind," returned the wife of the chief cook. "As for her looking a little younger than we do, what does
that matter? You would have made a far better Sultana than she."
"Oh, I say nothing of myself," replied the elder, "and if the Sultan had chosen you it would have been all very well; but
it really grieves me that he should have selected a wretched little creature like that. However, I will be revenged on her
somehow, and I beg you will give me your help in the matter, and to tell me anything that you can think of that is likely to
In order to carry out their wicked scheme the two sisters met constantly to talk over their ideas, though all the while
they pretended to be as friendly as ever towards the Sultana, who, on her part, invariably treated them with kindness. For a
long time no plan occurred to the two plotters that seemed in the least likely to meet with success, but at length the
expected birth of an heir gave them the chance for which they had been hoping.
They obtained permission of the Sultan to take up their abode in the palace for some weeks, and never left their sister
night or day. When at last a little boy, beautiful as the sun, was born, they laid him in his cradle and carried it down to a
canal which passed through the grounds of the palace. Then, leaving it to its fate, they informed the Sultan that instead of
the son he had so fondly desired the Sultana had given birth to a puppy. At this dreadful news the Sultan was so overcome
with rage and grief that it was with great difficulty that the grand-vizir managed to save the Sultana from his wrath.
Meanwhile the cradle continued to float peacefully along the canal till, on the outskirts of the royal gardens, it was
suddenly perceived by the intendant, one of the highest and most respected officials in the kingdom.
"Go," he said to a gardener who was working near, "and get that cradle out for me."
The gardener did as he was bid, and soon placed the cradle in the hands of the intendant.
The official was much astonished to see that the cradle, which he had supposed to be empty, contained a baby, which, young
though it was, already gave promise of great beauty. Having no children himself, although he had been married some years, it
at once occurred to him that here was a child which he could take and bring up as his own. And, bidding the man pick up the
cradle and follow him, he turned towards home.
"My wife," he exclaimed as he entered the room, "heaven has denied us any children, but here is one that has been sent in
their place. Send for a nurse, and I will do what is needful publicly to recognise it as my son."
The wife accepted the baby with joy, and though the intendant saw quite well that it must have come from the royal palace,
he did not think it was his business to inquire further into the mystery.
The following year another prince was born and sent adrift, but happily for the baby, the intendant of the gardens again
was walking by the canal, and carried it home as before.
The Sultan, naturally enough, was still more furious the second time than the first, but when the same curious accident
was repeated in the third year he could control himself no longer, and, to the great joy of the jealous sisters, commanded
that the Sultana should be executed. But the poor lady was so much beloved at Court that not even the dread of sharing her
fate could prevent the grand-vizir and the courtiers from throwing themselves at the Sultan's feet and imploring him not to
inflict so cruel a punishment for what, after all, was not her fault.
"Let her live," entreated the grand-vizir, "and banish her from your presence for the rest of her days. That in itself
will be punishment enough."
His first passion spent, the Sultan had regained his self-command. "Let her live then," he said, "since you have it so
much at heart. But if I grant her life it shall only be on one condition, which shall make her daily pray for death. Let a
box be built for her at the door of the principal mosque, and let the window of the box be always open. There she shall sit,
in the coarsest clothes, and every Mussulman who enters the mosque shall spit in her face in passing. Anyone that refuses to
obey shall be exposed to the same punishment himself. You, vizir, will see that my orders are carried out."
The grand-vizir saw that it was useless to say more, and, full of triumph, the sisters watched the building of the box,
and then listened to the jeers of the people at the helpless Sultana sitting inside. But the poor lady bore herself with so
much dignity and meekness that it was not long before she had won the sympathy of those that were best among the crowd.
But it is now time to return to the fate of the third baby, this time a princess. Like its brothers, it was found by the
intendant of the gardens, and adopted by him and his wife, and all three were brought up with the greatest care and
As the children grew older their beauty and air of distinction became more and more marked, and their manners had all the
grace and ease that is proper to people of high birth. The princes had been named by their foster-father Bahman and Perviz,
after two of the ancient kings of Persia, while the princess was called Parizade, or the child of the genii.
The intendant was careful to bring them up as befitted their real rank, and soon appointed a tutor to teach the young
princes how to read and write. And the princess, determined not to be left behind, showed herself so anxious to learn with
her brothers, that the intendant consented to her joining in their lessons, and it was not long before she knew as much as
From that time all their studies were done in common. They had the best masters for the fine arts, geography, poetry,
history and science, and even for sciences which are learned by few, and every branch seemed so easy to them, that their
teachers were astonished at the progress they made. The princess had a passion for music, and could sing and play upon all
sorts of instruments she could also ride and drive as well as her brothers, shoot with a bow and arrow, and throw a javelin
with the same skill as they, and sometimes even better.
In order to set off these accomplishments, the intendant resolved that his foster children should not be pent up any
longer in the narrow borders of the palace gardens, where he had always lived, so he bought a splendid country house a few
miles from the capital, surrounded by an immense park. This park he filled with wild beasts of various sorts, so that the
princes and princess might hunt as much as they pleased.
When everything was ready, the intendant threw himself at the Sultan's feet, and after referring to his age and his long
services, begged his Highness's permission to resign his post. This was granted by the Sultan in a few gracious words, and he
then inquired what reward he could give to his faithful servant. But the intendant declared that he wished for nothing except
the continuance of his Highness's favour, and prostrating himself once more, he retired from the Sultan's presence.
Five or six months passed away in the pleasures of the country, when death attacked the intendant so suddenly that he had
no time to reveal the secret of their birth to his adopted children, and as his wife had long been dead also, it seemed as if
the princes and the princess would never know that they had been born to a higher station than the one they filled. Their
sorrow for their father was very deep, and they lived quietly on in their new home, without feeling any desire to leave it for
court gaieties or intrigues.
One day the princes as usual went out to hunt, but their sister remained alone in her apartments. While they were gone an
old Mussulman devotee appeared at the door, and asked leave to enter, as it was the hour of prayer. The princess sent orders
at once that the old woman was to be taken to the private oratory in the grounds, and when she had finished her prayers was to
be shown the house and gardens, and then to be brought before her.
Although the old woman was very pious, she was not at all indifferent to the magnificence of all around her, which she
seemed to understand as well as to admire, and when she had seen it all she was led by the servants before the princess, who
was seated in a room which surpassed in splendour all the rest.
"My good woman," said the princess pointing to a sofa, "come and sit beside me. I am delighted at the opportunity of
speaking for a few moments with so holy a person." The old woman made some objections to so much honour being done her, but
the princess refused to listen, and insisted that her guest should take the best seat, and as she thought she must be tired
While the old woman was eating, the princess put several questions to her as to her mode of life, and the pious exercises
she practiced, and then inquired what she thought of the house now that she had seen it.
"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "one must be hard indeed to please to find any fault. It is beautiful, comfortable and well
ordered, and it is impossible to imagine anything more lovely than the garden. But since you ask me, I must confess that it
lacks three things to make it absolutely perfect."
"And what can they be?" cried the princess. "Only tell me, and I will lose no time in getting them."
"The three things, madam," replied the old woman, "are, first, the Talking Bird, whose voice draws all other singing birds
to it, to join in chorus. And second, the Singing Tree, where every leaf is a song that is never silent. And lastly the
Golden Water, of which it is only needful to pour a single drop into a basin for it to shoot up into a fountain, which will
never be exhausted, nor will the basin ever overflow."
"Oh, how can I thank you," cried the princess, "for telling me of such treasures! But add, I pray you, to your goodness
by further informing me where I can find them."
"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "I should ill repay the hospitality you have shown me if I refused to answer your question.
The three things of which I have spoken are all to be found in one place, on the borders of this kingdom, towards India. Your
messenger has only to follow the road that passes by your house, for twenty days, and at the end of that time, he is to ask
the first person he meets for the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water." She then rose, and bidding farewell
to the princess, went her way.
The old woman had taken her departure so abruptly that the Princess Parizade did not perceive till she was really gone
that the directions were hardly clear enough to enable the search to be successful. And she was still thinking of the subject,
and how delightful it would be to possess such rarities, when the princes, her brothers, returned from the chase.
"What is the matter, my sister?" asked Prince Bahman; "why are you so grave? Are you ill? Or has anything happened?"
Princess Parizade did not answer directly, but at length she raised her eyes, and replied that there was nothing wrong.
"But there must be something," persisted Prince Bahman, "for you to have changed so much during the short time we have
been absent. Hide nothing from us, I beseech you, unless you wish us to believe that the confidence we have always had in one
another is now to cease."
"When I said that it was nothing," said the princess, moved by his words, "I meant that it was nothing that affected you,
although I admit that it is certainly of some importance to me. Like myself, you have always thought this house that our
father built for us was perfect in every respect, but only to-day I have learned that three things are still lacking to
complete it. These are the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water." After explaining the peculiar qualities of
each, the princess continued: "It was a Mussulman devotee who told me all this, and where they might all be found. Perhaps
you will think that the house is beautiful enough as it is, and that we can do quite well without them; but in this I cannot
agree with you, and I shall never be content until I have got them. So counsel me, I pray, whom to send on the undertaking."
"My dear sister," replied Prince Bahman, "that you should care about the matter is quite enough, even if we took no
interest in it ourselves. But we both feel with you, and I claim, as the elder, the right to make the first attempt, if you
will tell me where I am to go, and what steps I am to take."
Prince Perviz at first objected that, being the head of the family, his brother ought not to be allowed to expose himself
to danger; but Prince Bahman would hear nothing, and retired to make the needful preparations for his journey.
The next morning Prince Bahman got up very early, and after bidding farewell to his brother and sister, mounted his horse.
But just as he was about to touch it with his whip, he was stopped by a cry from the princess.
"Oh, perhaps after all you may never come back; one never can tell what accidents may happen. Give it up, I implore you,
for I would a thousand times rather lose the Talking Bird, and the Singing Tree and the Golden Water, than that you should run
"My dear sister," answered the prince, "accidents only happen to unlucky people, and I hope that I am not one of them. But
as everything is uncertain, I promise you to be very careful. Take this knife," he continued, handing her one that hung
sheathed from his belt, "and every now and then draw it out and look at it. As long as it keeps bright and clean as it is
to-day, you will know that I am living; but if the blade is spotted with blood, it will be a sign that I am dead, and you
shall weep for me."
So saying, Prince Bahman bade them farewell once more, and started on the high road, well mounted and fully armed. For
twenty days he rode straight on, turning neither to the right hand nor to the left, till he found himself drawing near the
frontiers of Persia. Seated under a tree by the wayside he noticed a hideous old man, with a long white moustache, and beard
that almost fell to his feet. His nails had grown to an enormous length, and on his head he wore a huge hat, which served him
for an umbrella.
Prince Bahman, who, remembering the directions of the old woman, had been since sunrise on the look-out for some one,
recognised the old man at once to be a dervish. He dismounted from his horse, and bowed low before the holy man, saying by
way of greeting, "My father, may your days be long in the land, and may all your wishes be fulfilled!"
The dervish did his best to reply, but his moustache was so thick that his words were hardly intelligible, and the prince,
perceiving what was the matter, took a pair of scissors from his saddle pockets, and requested permission to cut off some of
the moustache, as he had a question of great importance to ask the dervish. The dervish made a sign that he might do as he
liked, and when a few inches of his hair and beard had been pruned all round the prince assured the holy man that he would
hardly believe how much younger he looked. The dervish smiled at his compliments, and thanked him for what he had done.
"Let me," he said, "show you my gratitude for making me more comfortable by telling me what I can do for you."
"Gentle dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I come from far, and I seek the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden
Water. I know that they are to be found somewhere in these parts, but I am ignorant of the exact spot. Tell me, I pray you,
if you can, so that I may not have travelled on a useless quest." While he was speaking, the prince observed a change in the
countenance of the dervish, who waited for some time before he made reply.
"My lord," he said at last, "I do know the road for which you ask, but your kindness and the friendship I have conceived
for you make me loth to point it out."
"But why not?" inquired the prince. "What danger can there be?"
"The very greatest danger," answered the dervish. "Other men, as brave as you, have ridden down this road, and have put
me that question. I did my best to turn them also from their purpose, but it was of no use. Not one of them would listen to
my words, and not one of them came back. Be warned in time, and seek to go no further."
"I am grateful to you for your interest in me," said Prince Bahman, "and for the advice you have given, though I cannot
follow it. But what dangers can there be in the adventure which courage and a good sword cannot meet?"
"And suppose," answered the dervish, "that your enemies are invisible, how then?"
"Nothing will make me give it up," replied the prince, "and for the last time I ask you to tell me where I am to go."
When the dervish saw that the prince's mind was made up, he drew a ball from a bag that lay near him, and held it out. "If
it must be so," he said, with a sigh, "take this, and when you have mounted your horse throw the ball in front of you. It will
roll on till it reaches the foot of a mountain, and when it stops you will stop also. You will then throw the bridle on your
horse's neck without any fear of his straying, and will dismount. On each side you will see vast heaps of big black stones,
and will hear a multitude of insulting voices, but pay no heed to them, and, above all, beware of ever turning your head. If
you do, you will instantly become a black stone like the rest. For those stones are in reality men like yourself, who have
been on the same quest, and have failed, as I fear that you may fail also. If you manage to avoid this pitfall, and to reach
the top of the mountain, you will find there the Talking Bird in a splendid cage, and you can ask of him where you are to seek
the Singing Tree and the Golden Water. That is all I have to say. You know what you have to do, and what to avoid, but if
you are wise you will think of it no more, but return whence you have come."
The prince smilingly shook his head, and thanking the dervish once more, he sprang on his horse and threw the ball before
The ball rolled along the road so fast that Prince Bahman had much difficulty in keeping up with it, and it never relaxed
its speed till the foot of the mountain was reached. Then it came to a sudden halt, and the prince at once got down and flung
the bridle on his horse's neck. He paused for a moment and looked round him at the masses of black stones with which the
sides of the mountain were covered, and then began resolutely to ascend. He had hardly gone four steps when he heard the
sound of voices around him, although not another creature was in sight.
" He paused for a moment and looked round him at the masses of black stones with which the sides of the mountain were covered, and then began resolutely to ascend. He had hardly gone four steps when he heard the sound of voices around him, although not another creature was in sight. "
"Who is this imbecile?" cried some, "stop him at once." "Kill him," shrieked others, "Help! robbers! murderers! help!
help!" "Oh, let him alone," sneered another, and this was the most trying of all, "he is such a beautiful young man; I am
sure the bird and the cage must have been kept for him."
At first the prince took no heed to all this clamour, but continued to press forward on his way. Unfortunately this
conduct, instead of silencing the voices, only seemed to irritate them the more, and they arose with redoubled fury, in front
as well as behind. After some time he grew bewildered, his knees began to tremble, and finding himself in the act of falling,
he forgot altogether the advice of the dervish. He turned to fly down the mountain, and in one moment became a black stone.
As may be imagined, Prince Perviz and his sister were all this time in the greatest anxiety, and consulted the magic
knife, not once but many times a day. Hitherto the blade had remained bright and spotless, but on the fatal hour on which
Prince Bahman and his horse were changed into black stones, large drops of blood appeared on the surface. "Ah! my beloved
brother," cried the princess in horror, throwing the knife from her, "I shall never see you again, and it is I who have killed
you. Fool that I was to listen to the voice of that temptress, who probably was not speaking the truth. What are the Talking
Bird and the Singing Tree to me in comparison with you, passionately though I long for them!"
Prince Perviz's grief at his brother's loss was not less than that of Princess Parizade, but he did not waste his time on
"My sister," he said, "why should you think the old woman was deceiving you about these treasures, and what would have
been her object in doing so! No, no, our brother must have met his death by some accident, or want of precaution, and
to-morrow I will start on the same quest."
Terrified at the thought that she might lose her only remaining brother, the princess entreated him to give up his
project, but he remained firm. Before setting out, however, he gave her a chaplet of a hundred pearls, and said, "When I am
absent, tell this over daily for me. But if you should find that the beads stick, so that they will not slip one after the
other, you will know that my brother's fate has befallen me. Still, we must hope for better luck."
Then he departed, and on the twentieth day of his journey fell in with the dervish on the same spot as Prince Bahman had
met him, and began to question him as to the place where the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree and the Golden Water were to be
found. As in the case of his brother, the dervish tried to make him give up his project, and even told him that only a few
weeks since a young man, bearing a strong resemblance to himself, had passed that way, but had never come back again.
"That, holy dervish," replied Prince Perviz, "was my elder brother, who is now dead, though how he died I cannot say."
"He is changed into a black stone," answered the dervish, "like all the rest who have gone on the same errand, and you
will become one likewise if you are not more careful in following my directions." Then he charged the prince, as he valued his
life, to take no heed of the clamour of voices that would pursue him up the mountain, and handing him a ball from the bag,
which still seemed to be half full, he sent him on his way.
When Prince Perviz reached the foot of the mountain he jumped from his horse, and paused for a moment to recall the
instructions the dervish had given him. Then he strode boldly on, but had scarcely gone five or six paces when he was
startled by a man's voice that seemed close to his ear, exclaiming: "Stop, rash fellow, and let me punish your audacity."
This outrage entirely put the dervish's advice out of the prince's head. He drew his sword, and turned to avenge himself, but
almost before he had realised that there was nobody there, he and his horse were two black stones.
Not a morning had passed since Prince Perviz had ridden away without Princess Parizade telling her beads, and at night she
even hung them round her neck, so that if she woke she could assure herself at once of her brother's safety. She was in the
very act of moving them through her fingers at the moment that the prince fell a victim to his impatience, and her heart sank
when the first pearl remained fixed in its place. However she had long made up her mind what she would do in such a case, and
the following morning the princess, disguised as a man, set out for the mountain.
As she had been accustomed to riding from her childhood, she managed to travel as many miles daily as her brothers had
done, and it was, as before, on the twentieth day that she arrived at the place where the dervish was sitting. "Good
dervish," she said politely, "will you allow me to rest by you for a few moments, and perhaps you will be so kind as to tell
me if you have ever heard of a Talking Bird, a Singing Tree, and some Golden Water that are to be found somewhere near this?"
"Madam," replied the dervish, "for in spite of your manly dress your voice betrays you, I shall be proud to serve you in
any way I can. But may I ask the purpose of your question?"
"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I have heard such glowing descriptions of these three things, that I cannot rest
till I possess them."
"Madam," said the dervish, "they are far more beautiful than any description, but you seem ignorant of all the
difficulties that stand in your way, or you would hardly have undertaken such an adventure. Give it up, I pray you, and
return home, and do not ask me to help you to a cruel death."
"Holy father," answered the princess, "I come from far, and I should be in despair if I turned back without having
attained my object. You have spoken of difficulties; tell me, I entreat you, what they are, so that I may know if I can
overcome them, or see if they are beyond my strength."
So the dervish repeated his tale, and dwelt more firmly than before on the clamour of the voices, the horrors of the black
stones, which were once living men, and the difficulties of climbing the mountain; and pointed out that the chief means of
success was never to look behind till you had the cage in your grasp.
"As far as I can see," said the princess, "the first thing is not to mind the tumult of the voices that follow you till
you reach the cage, and then never to look behind. As to this, I think I have enough self-control to look straight before me;
but as it is quite possible that I might be frightened by the voices, as even the boldest men have been, I will stop up my
ears with cotton, so that, let them make as much noise as they like, I shall hear nothing."
"Madam," cried the dervish, "out of all the number who have asked me the way to the mountain, you are the first who has
ever suggested such a means of escaping the danger! It is possible that you may succeed, but all the same, the risk is
"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I feel in my heart that I shall succeed, and it only remains for me to ask you the
way I am to go."
Then the dervish said that it was useless to say more, and he gave her the ball, which she flung before her.
The first thing the princess did on arriving at the mountain was to stop her ears with cotton, and then, making up her
mind which was the best way to go, she began her ascent. In spite of the cotton, some echoes of the voices reached her ears,
but not so as to trouble her. Indeed, though they grew louder and more insulting the higher she climbed, the princess only
laughed, and said to herself that she certainly would not let a few rough words stand between her and the goal. At last she
perceived in the distance the cage and the bird, whose voice joined itself in tones of thunder to those of the rest: "Return,
return! never dare to come near me."
At the sight of the bird, the princess hastened her steps, and without vexing herself at the noise which by this time had
grown deafening, she walked straight up to the cage, and seizing it, she said: "Now, my bird, I have got you, and I shall take
good care that you do not escape." As she spoke she took the cotton from her ears, for it was needed no longer.
"Brave lady," answered the bird, "do not blame me for having joined my voice to those who did their best to preserve my
freedom. Although confined in a cage, I was content with my lot, but if I must become a slave, I could not wish for a nobler
mistress than one who has shown so much constancy, and from this moment I swear to serve you faithfully. Some day you will
put me to the proof, for I know who you are better than you do yourself. Meanwhile, tell me what I can do, and I will obey
"Bird," replied the princess, who was filled with a joy that seemed strange to herself when she thought that the bird had
cost her the lives of both her brothers. "bird, let me first thank you for your good will, and then let me ask you where the
Golden Water is to be found."
The bird described the place, which was not far distant, and the princess filled a small silver flask that she had brought
with her for the purpose. She then returned to the cage, and said: "Bird, there is still something else, where shall I find
the Singing Tree?"
"Behind you, in that wood," replied the bird, and the princess wandered through the wood, till a sound of the sweetest
voices told her she had found what she sought. But the tree was tall and strong, and it was hopeless to think of uprooting
"You need not do that," said the bird, when she had returned to ask counsel. "Break off a twig, and plant it in your
garden, and it will take root, and grow into a magnificent tree."
When the Princess Parizade held in her hands the three wonders promised her by the old woman, she said to the bird: "All
that is not enough. It was owing to you that my brothers became black stones. I cannot tell them from the mass of others, but
you must know, and point them out to me, I beg you, for I wish to carry them away."
For some reason that the princess could not guess these words seemed to displease the bird, and he did not answer. The
princess waited a moment, and then continued in severe tones, "Have you forgotten that you yourself said that you are my slave
to do my bidding, and also that your life is in my power?"
"No, I have not forgotten," replied the bird, "but what you ask is very difficult. However, I will do my best. If you
look round," he went on, "you will see a pitcher standing near. Take it, and, as you go down the mountain, scatter a little
of the water it contains over every black stone and you will soon find your two brothers."
Princess Parizade took the pitcher, and, carrying with her besides the cage the twig and the flask, returned down the
mountain side. At every black stone she stopped and sprinkled it with water, and as the water touched it the stone instantly
became a man. When she suddenly saw her brothers before her her delight was mixed with astonishment.
"Why, what are you doing here?" she cried.
"We have been asleep," they said.
"Yes," returned the princess, "but without me your sleep would probably have lasted till the day of judgment. Have you
forgotten that you came here in search of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the Golden Water, and the black stones that
were heaped up along the road? Look round and see if there is one left. These gentlemen, and yourselves, and all your horses
were changed into these stones, and I have delivered you by sprinkling you with the water from this pitcher. As I could not
return home without you, even though I had gained the prizes on which I had set my heart, I forced the Talking Bird to tell me
how to break the spell."
On hearing these words Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz understood all they owed their sister, and the knights who stood by
declared themselves her slaves and ready to carry out her wishes. But the princess, while thanking them for their politeness,
explained that she wished for no company but that of her brothers, and that the rest were free to go where they would.
So saying the princess mounted her horse, and, declining to allow even Prince Bahman to carry the cage with the Talking
Bird, she entrusted him with the branch of the Singing Tree, while Prince Perviz took care of the flask containing the Golden
Then they rode away, followed by the knights and gentlemen, who begged to be permitted to escort them.
It had been the intention of the party to stop and tell their adventures to the dervish, but they found to their sorrow
that he was dead, whether from old age, or whether from the feeling that his task was done, they never knew.
As they continued their road their numbers grew daily smaller, for the knights turned off one by one to their own homes,
and only the brothers and sister finally drew up at the gate of the palace.
The princess carried the cage straight into the garden, and, as soon as the bird began to sing, nightingales, larks,
thrushes, finches, and all sorts of other birds mingled their voices in chorus. The branch she planted in a corner near the
house, and in a few days it had grown into a great tree. As for the Golden Water it was poured into a great marble basin
specially prepared for it, and it swelled and bubbled and then shot up into the air in a fountain twenty feet high.
The fame of these wonders soon spread abroad, and people came from far and near to see and admire.
After a few days Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz fell back into their ordinary way of life, and passed most of their time
hunting. One day it happened that the Sultan of Persia was also hunting in the same direction, and, not wishing to interfere
with his sport, the young men, on hearing the noise of the hunt approaching, prepared to retire, but, as luck would have it,
they turned into the very path down which the Sultan was coming. They threw themselves from their horses and prostrated
themselves to the earth, but the Sultan was curious to see their faces, and commanded them to rise.
The princes stood up respectfully, but quite at their ease, and the Sultan looked at them for a few moments without
speaking, then he asked who they were and where they lived.
"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "we are sons of your Highness's late intendant of the gardens, and we live in a house that
he built a short time before his death, waiting till an occasion should offer itself to serve your Highness."
"You seem fond of hunting," answered the Sultan.
"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "it is our usual exercise, and one that should be neglected by no man who expects to comply
with the ancient customs of the kingdom and bear arms."
The Sultan was delighted with this remark, and said at once, "In that case I shall take great pleasure in watching you.
Come, choose what sort of beasts you would like to hunt."
The princes jumped on their horses and followed the Sultan at a little distance. They had not gone very far before they
saw a number of wild animals appear at once, and Prince Bahman started to give chase to a lion and Prince Perviz to a bear.
Both used their javelins with such skill that, directly they arrived within striking range, the lion and the bear fell,
pierced through and through. Then Prince Perviz pursued a lion and Prince Bahman a bear, and in a very few minutes they, too,
lay dead. As they were making ready for a third assault the Sultan interfered, and, sending one of his officials to summon
them, he said smiling, "If I let you go on, there will soon be no beasts left to hunt. Besides, your courage and manners have
so won my heart that I will not have you expose yourselves to further danger. I am convinced that some day or other I shall
find you useful as well as agreeable."
He then gave them a warm invitation to stay with him altogether, but with many thanks for the honour done them, they
begged to be excused, and to be suffered to remain at home.
The Sultan who was not accustomed to see his offers rejected inquired their reasons, and Prince Bahman explained that they
did not wish to leave their sister, and were accustomed to do nothing without consulting all three together.
"Ask her advice, then," replied the Sultan, "and to-morrow come and hunt with me, and give me your answer."
The two princes returned home, but their adventure made so little impression on them that they quite forgot to speak to
their sister on the subject. The next morning when they went to hunt they met the Sultan in the same place, and he inquired
what advice their sister had given. The young men looked at each other and blushed. At last Prince Bahman said, "Sire, we
must throw ourselves on your Highness's mercy. Neither my brother nor myself remembered anything about it."
"Then be sure you do not forget to-day," answered the Sultan, "and bring me back your reply to-morrow."
When, however, the same thing happened a second time, they feared that the Sultan might be angry with them for their
carelessness. But he took it in good part, and, drawing three little golden balls from his purse, he held them out to Prince
Bahman, saying, "Put these in your bosom and you will not forget a third time, for when you remove your girdle to-night the
noise they will make in falling will remind you of my wishes."
It all happened as the Sultan had foreseen, and the two brothers appeared in their sister's apartments just as she was in
the act of stepping into bed, and told their tale.
The Princess Parizade was much disturbed at the news, and did not conceal her feelings. "Your meeting with the Sultan is
very honourable to you," she said, "and will, I dare say, be of service to you, but it places me in a very awkward position.
It is on my account, I know, that you have resisted the Sultan's wishes, and I am very grateful to you for it. But kings do
not like to have their offers refused, and in time he would bear a grudge against you, which would render me very unhappy.
Consult the Talking Bird, who is wise and far-seeing, and let me hear what he says."
So the bird was sent for and the case laid before him.
"The princes must on no account refuse the Sultan's proposal," said he, "and they must even invite him to come and see
"But, bird," objected the princess, "you know how dearly we love each other; will not all this spoil our friendship?"
"Not at all," replied the bird, "it will make it all the closer."
"Then the Sultan will have to see me," said the princess.
The bird answered that it was necessary that he should see her, and everything would turn out for the best.
The following morning, when the Sultan inquired if they had spoken to their sister and what advice she had given them,
Prince Bahman replied that they were ready to agree to his Highness's wishes, and that their sister had reproved them for
their hesitation about the matter. The Sultan received their excuses with great kindness, and told them that he was sure they
would be equally faithful to him, and kept them by his side for the rest of the day, to the vexation of the grand-vizir and
the rest of the court.
When the procession entered in this order the gates of the capital, the eyes of the people who crowded the streets were
fixed on the two young men, strangers to every one.
"Oh, if only the Sultan had had sons like that!" they murmured, "they look so distinguished and are about the same age
that his sons would have been!"
The Sultan commanded that splendid apartments should be prepared for the two brothers, and even insisted that they should
sit at table with him. During dinner he led the conversation to various scientific subjects, and also to history, of which he
was especially fond, but whatever topic they might be discussing he found that the views of the young men were always worth
listening to. "If they were my own sons," he said to himself, "they could not be better educated!" and aloud he complimented
them on their learning and taste for knowledge.
At the end of the evening the princes once more prostrated themselves before the throne and asked leave to return home;
and then, encouraged by the gracious words of farewell uttered by the Sultan, Prince Bahman said: "Sire, may we dare to take
the liberty of asking whether you would do us and our sister the honour of resting for a few minutes at our house the first
time the hunt passes that way?"
"With the utmost pleasure," replied the Sultan; "and as I am all impatience to see the sister of such accomplished young
men you may expect me the day after to-morrow."
The princess was of course most anxious to entertain the Sultan in a fitting way, but as she had no experience in court
customs she ran to the Talking Bird, and begged he would advise her as to what dishes should be served.
"My dear mistress," replied the bird, "your cooks are very good and you can safely leave all to them, except that you must
be careful to have a dish of cucumbers, stuffed with pearl sauce, served with the first course."
"Cucumbers stuffed with pearls!" exclaimed the princess. "Why, bird, who ever heard of such a dish? The Sultan will
expect a dinner he can eat, and not one he can only admire! Besides, if I were to use all the pearls I possess, they would
not be half enough."
"Mistress," replied the bird, "do what I tell you and nothing but good will come of it. And as to the pearls, if you go
at dawn to-morrow and dig at the foot of the first tree in the park, on the right hand, you will find as many as you want."
The princess had faith in the bird, who generally proved to be right, and taking the gardener with her early next morning
followed out his directions carefully. After digging for some time they came upon a golden box fastened with little clasps.
These were easily undone, and the box was found to be full of pearls, not very large ones, but well-shaped and of a good
colour. So leaving the gardener to fill up the hole he had made under the tree, the princess took up the box and returned to
The two princes had seen her go out, and had wondered what could have made her rise so early. Full of curiosity they got
up and dressed, and met their sister as she was returning with the box under her arm.
"What have you been doing?" they asked, "and did the gardener come to tell you he had found a treasure?"
"On the contrary," replied the princess, "it is I who have found one," and opening the box she showed her astonished
brothers the pearls inside. Then, on the way back to the palace, she told them of her consultation with the bird, and the
advice it had given her. All three tried to guess the meaning of the singular counsel, but they were forced at last to admit
the explanation was beyond them, and they must be content blindly to obey.
The first thing the princess did on entering the palace was to send for the head cook and to order the repast for the
Sultan When she had finished she suddenly added, "Besides the dishes I have mentioned there is one that you must prepare
expressly for the Sultan, and that no one must touch but yourself. It consists of a stuffed cucumber, and the stuffing is to
be made of these pearls."
The head cook, who had never in all his experience heard of such a dish, stepped back in amazement.
"You think I am mad," answered the princess, who perceived what was in his mind. "But I know quite well what I am doing.
Go, and do your best, and take the pearls with you."
The next morning the princes started for the forest, and were soon joined by the Sultan. The hunt began and continued
till mid-day, when the heat became so great that they were obliged to leave off. Then, as arranged, they turned their horses'
heads towards the palace, and while Prince Bahman remained by the side of the Sultan, Prince Perviz rode on to warn his sister
of their approach.
The moment his Highness entered the courtyard, the princess flung herself at his feet, but he bent and raised her, and
gazed at her for some time, struck with her grace and beauty, and also with the indefinable air of courts that seemed to hang
round this country girl. "They are all worthy one of the other," he said to himself, "and I am not surprised that they think
so much of her opinions. I must know more of them."
By this time the princess had recovered from the first embarrassment of meeting, and proceeded to make her speech of
"This is only a simple country house, sire," she said, "suitable to people like ourselves, who live a quiet life. It
cannot compare with the great city mansions, much less, of course, with the smallest of the Sultan's palaces."
"I cannot quite agree with you," he replied; "even the little that I have seen I admire greatly, and I will reserve my
judgment until you have shown me the whole."
The princess then led the way from room to room, and the Sultan examined everything carefully. "Do you call this a simple
country house?" he said at last. "Why, if every country house was like this, the towns would soon be deserted. I am no
longer astonished that you do not wish to leave it. Let us go into the gardens, which I am sure are no less beautiful than
A small door opened straight into the garden, and the first object that met the Sultan's eyes was the Golden Water.
"What lovely coloured water!" he exclaimed; "where is the spring, and how do you make the fountain rise so high? I do not
believe there is anything like it in the world." He went forward to examine it, and when he had satisfied his curiosity, the
princess conducted him towards the Singing Tree.
As they drew near, the Sultan was startled by the sound of strange voices, but could see nothing. "Where have you hidden
your musicians?" he asked the princess; "are they up in the air, or under the earth? Surely the owners of such charming
voices ought not to conceal themselves!"
"Sire," answered the princess, "the voices all come from the tree which is straight in front of us; and if you will deign
to advance a few steps, you will see that they become clearer."
The Sultan did as he was told, and was so wrapt in delight at what he heard that he stood some time in silence.
"Tell me, madam, I pray you," he said at last, "how this marvellous tree came into your garden? It must have been brought
from a great distance, or else, fond as I am of all curiosities, I could not have missed hearing of it! What is its name?"
"The only name it has, sire," replied she, "is the Singing Tree, and it is not a native of this country. Its history is
mixed up with those of the Golden Water and the Talking Bird, which you have not yet seen. If your Highness wishes I will
tell you the whole story, when you have recovered from your fatigue."
"Indeed, madam," returned he, "you show me so many wonders that it is impossible to feel any fatigue. Let us go once more
and look at the Golden Water; and I am dying to see the Talking Bird."
The Sultan could hardly tear himself away from the Golden Water, which puzzled him more and more. "You say," he observed
to the princess, "that this water does not come from any spring, neither is brought by pipes. All I understand is, that
neither it nor the Singing Tree is a native of this country."
"It is as you say, sire," answered the princess, "and if you examine the basin, you will see that it is all in one piece,
and therefore the water could not have been brought through it. What is more astonishing is, that I only emptied a small
flaskful into the basin, and it increased to the quantity you now see."
"Well, I will look at it no more to-day," said the Sultan. "Take me to the Talking Bird."
On approaching the house, the Sultan noticed a vast quantity of birds, whose voices filled the air, and he inquired why
they were so much more numerous here than in any other part of the garden.
"Sire," answered the princess, "do you see that cage hanging in one of the windows of the saloon? that is the Talking
Bird, whose voice you can hear above them all, even above that of the nightingale. And the birds crowd to this spot, to add
their songs to his."
The Sultan stepped through the window, but the bird took no notice, continuing his song as before.
"My slave," said the princess, "this is the Sultan; make him a pretty speech."
The bird stopped singing at once, and all the other birds stopped too.
"The Sultan is welcome," he said. "I wish him long life and all prosperity."
"I thank you, good bird," answered the Sultan, seating himself before the repast, which was spread at a table near the
window, "and I am enchanted to see in you the Sultan and King of the Birds."
The Sultan, noticing that his favourite dish of cucumber was placed before him, proceeded to help himself to it, and was
amazed to and that the stuffing was of pearls. "A novelty, indeed!" cried he, "but I do not understand the reason of it; one
cannot eat pearls!"
"Sire," replied the bird, before either the princes or the princess could speak, "surely your Highness cannot be so
surprised at beholding a cucumber stuffed with pearls, when you believed without any difficulty that the Sultana had presented
you, instead of children, with a dog, a cat, and a log of wood."
"I believed it," answered the Sultan, "because the women attending on her told me so."
"The women, sire," said the bird, "were the sisters of the Sultana, who were devoured with jealousy at the honour you had
done her, and in order to revenge themselves invented this story. Have them examined, and they will confess their crime.
These are your children, who were saved from death by the intendant of your gardens, and brought up by him as if they were his
Like a flash the truth came to the mind of the Sultan. "Bird," he cried, "my heart tells me that what you say is true. My
children," he added, "let me embrace you, and embrace each other, not only as brothers and sister, but as having in you the
blood royal of Persia which could flow in no nobler veins."
When the first moments of emotion were over, the Sultan hastened to finish his repast, and then turning to his children he
exclaimed: "To-day you have made acquaintance with your father. To-morrow I will bring you the Sultana your mother. Be ready
to receive her."
The Sultan then mounted his horse and rode quickly back to the capital. Without an instant's delay he sent for the
grand-vizir, and ordered him to seize and question the Sultana's sisters that very day. This was done. They were confronted
with each other and proved guilty, and were executed in less than an hour.
But the Sultan did not wait to hear that his orders had been carried out before going on foot, followed by his whole court
to the door of the great mosque, and drawing the Sultana with his own hand out of the narrow prison where she had spent so
many years, "Madam," he cried, embracing her with tears in his eyes, "I have come to ask your pardon for the injustice I have
done you, and to repair it as far as I may. I have already begun by punishing the authors of this abominable crime, and I
hope you will forgive me when I introduce you to our children, who are the most charming and accomplished creatures in the
whole world. Come with me, and take back your position and all the honour that is due to you."
This speech was delivered in the presence of a vast multitude of people, who had gathered from all parts on the first hint
of what was happening, and the news was passed from mouth to mouth in a few seconds.
Early next day the Sultan and Sultana, dressed in robes of state and followed by all the court, set out for the country
house of their children. Here the Sultan presented them to the Sultana one by one, and for some time there was nothing but
embraces and tears and tender words. Then they ate of the magnificent dinner which had been prepared for them, and after they
were all refreshed they went into the garden, where the Sultan pointed out to his wife the Golden Water and the Singing Tree.
As to the Talking Bird, she had already made acquaintance with him.
In the evening they rode together back to the capital, the princes on each side of their father, and the princess with her
mother. Long before they reached the gates the way was lined with people, and the air filled with shouts of welcome, with
which were mingled the songs of the Talking Bird, sitting in its cage on the lap of the princess, and of the birds who
And in this manner they came back to their father's palace.
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The illustrations are by Rene Bull (1872 - 1942) illustrations 1912) and Maxfield Parish (1870 - 1966) illustrations 1909) and W. Heath Robinson (1872 - 1944) illustrations 1899) also H. J. Ford (1860- 1941) illustrations 1898)