The Princess, very distressed at being separated from her husband and father, neither ate nor drank, and passed her days and nights weeping. As luck would have it, however, on that morning, when one of the maids came in to dress the Princess, she opened the window to cheer her mistress with the delightful view and saw Aladdin, her master, sitting below.
‘Mistress, mistress!’ she exclaimed. ‘There is my master Aladdin, sitting below!’
The Princess rushed to the window, and husband and wife recognized each other in a transport of joy.
‘Come up, quickly!’ the Princess shouted. ‘Enter by the secret door. The magician is not here now.’
Her maid ran down and opened a secret door, by which Aladdin went in to his wife’s room. Laughing and crying, they fell into each other’s arms.
‘Before all else, Badr-al-Budur,’ said Aladdin, when they had both sat down, ‘tell me what became of that copper lamp that I left in my room when I went out hunting.’
‘Alas, my love!’ sighed the Princess. ‘That lamp and nothing else was the cause of our ruin.’
‘Tell me everything.’
Badr-al-Budur recounted to him all that had happened since the day she exchanged the old lamp for a new one.
‘Next morning,’ she said, ‘we suddenly found ourselves in this country. And the man who cheated us told me that it was all done by his witchcraft and the power of the lamp; that he was a Moor from Africa and that we were now in his native city.’
‘What does the scoundrel intend to do with you?’ asked Aladdin, when the Princess had finished speaking. ‘What does he say to you? What does he want of you?’
‘He comes to me once every day,’ she replied, ‘and tries to win my heart. He wants me to forget you and to take him for my husband. He says that the Sultan has cut off your head, that you come of a poor family, and that you owe your wealth to him. He tries to endear himself to me, but gets nothing in return except silence and tears. He has never heard a kind word from me.’
‘Now tell me where he keeps the lamp.’
‘He always carries it with him,’ the Princess replied, ‘and never parts from it even for a moment. But he once drew it from his robe and showed it to me.’
Aladdin was very glad to hear this.
‘Listen to me, Badr-al-Budur,’ he said. ‘I will leave the palace now, and return in a disguise. Do not be alarmed when you see me. Post one of the maids at the secret door, so that she may let me in. I have hit upon a plan to destroy this foul magician.’
Aladdin set off in the direction of the city, and presently met a peasant on the way.
‘Good friend,’ he said, ‘take my clothes and give me yours.’
The peasant refused; so Aladdin took hold of him, forced him to cast off his clothes, put them on himself, and gave him his own costly robes in return. Then he walked on to the city and made his way to the perfume sellers’ market, where he bought a powerful drug.
Returning to the palace, he went in by the secret door to the Princess’ room.
‘Listen, now,’ he said to his wife. ‘I want you to put on your finest robes and jewels and to look your radiant self again. When the magician comes, give him a joyful welcome and receive him with a smiling face. Invite him to dine with you; pretend you have forgotten your husband and your father, and you are in love with him. Ask him for red wine, and drink his health with a show of merriment. When you have given him two or three glasses, drop this powder into his cup and fill it to the brim with wine. As soon as he has drunk it off, he will fall over on his back like a dead man.’
‘That will be difficult,’ the Princess replied. ‘Yet it must be done if we are to rid ourselves of the monster. To kill such a man is certainly a good deed.’
Then Aladdin ate and drank with the Princess, and when he had satisfied his hunger he got up and quickly left the palace.
The Princess sent for her maid, who combed her hair, perfumed her, and dressed her in her finest garments. By and by, the Moor came in. He was delighted to see her so changed, and was agreeably surprised when she received him with a welcoming smile. She took him by the hand and seated him by her side.
‘If you wish, sir,’ she said in a tender voice, ‘come to my room tonight and we will dine together. I have had my fill of grief; and were I to sit mourning for a thousand years, Aladdin would never come back from the grave. I have thought about what you told me yesterday, and do believe that my father may well have killed him in his sorrow at being parted from me. Therefore you must not be surprised to see me changed. Pray let us meet tonight, that we may have dinner and drink a little wine together. I would particularly like to taste your African wine; perhaps it is better than ours. I have here some wine from our own country, but would much prefer to try some of yours.’
Taken in by the affectionate regard that the Princess displayed toward him, the magician concluded that she had given up all hope of Aladdin. Therefore he rejoiced and said, ‘My dear, I will gladly obey your every wish. I have in my house a cask of African wine, which I have stored deep under the earth these eight years. I will now go and fetch from it sufficient for our needs, and return to you without delay.’
But to coax him more and more, the Princess replied, ‘Do not leave me alone, dearest. Send one of your servants for the wine, and sit here by my side, that I may cheer myself with your company.’
‘Dear mistress,’ the magician answered, ‘no one knows where the cask is hidden but myself. I will not be long.’
So saying, he went out and after a little while returned with a flaskful of the wine.
‘Dearest,’ said the Princess when he entered, ‘you have tired yourself on my account.’
‘Not at all, my love,’ the magician replied. ‘It is an honor for me to serve you.’
The Princess sat beside him at the table, and the two ate together. She asked for a drink, and her maid filled her cup and then the Moor’s. They drank cheerfully to each other’s health, the Princess using all her art to win him with her words. The unsuspecting Moor supposed all this to be heartfelt and true; he did not know that this love of hers was but a snare to destroy him. When they had finished eating and the wine had vanquished his brain, the Princess said, ‘We have a custom in our country; I do not know if you observe it here.’
‘And what is this custom?’ he asked.
‘When dinner is over,’ she replied, ‘each one takes his companion’s cup and drinks from it.’
She thereupon took his cup and filled it with wine for herself; then she ordered the maid to give him her cup, in which the wine had already been mixed with the drug. The girl acted her part well, for all the maids and servants in the palace wished his death and were in league with their mistress to destroy him. So the girl gave him the cup, while the drunken Moor, flattered by this show of love, imagined himself to be Alexander the Great in all his glory.
‘Dearest,’ the Princess said, swaying from side to side and placing her hand in his, ‘here I have your cup and you have mine. Thus shall we drink from one another’s cup.’
The Princess kissed his glass and drank; then she went over to him and kissed him on the cheek. The delighted Moor wanted to do the same; he raised the cup to his lips and gulped it down. At once he rolled over on his back like a dead man, and the cup fell from his hand. The Princess rejoiced, and the maids rushed out to the door of the palace to admit their master Aladdin.
Aladdin hastened to his wife’s room and found her sitting at the table, with the Moor lying motionless before her. He took her joyfully into his arms and thanked her for all that she had done.
‘Now go with your maids into the inner room,’ he said, ‘and leave me to myself awhile. I have some work to do.’
When they were all gone, Aladdin locked the door behind them and, going over to the magician, thrust his hand into the breast of his robe and took out the lamp. Then he drew his sword and cut off the Moor’s head. Aladdin rubbed the lamp, and at once the jinnee appeared.
‘I am
here, master, I am here,’ he said. ‘What would you have?’
‘I order you,’ Aladdin said, ‘to lift up this palace and set it down where it stood before, in front of the Sultan’s palace in China.’
‘I hear and obey, my master,’ the jinnee replied.
Aladdin went in and sat down with his wife. Meanwhile, the jinnee carried the palace and set it down on its former site, in front of the Sultan’s palace. Aladdin ordered the maids to bring the table, and he and the Princess feasted and made merry to their hearts’ content. Next morning he got up and awakened his wife. The maids came in and dressed the Princess, and Aladdin dressed himself also. The two looked forward eagerly to meeting the Sultan.
*
As for the Sultan, after setting Aladdin free, he continued to grieve over the loss of his daughter; he passed his days wailing like a woman for her, his one and only child. Every morning, as he left his bed, he would look out toward the spot where Aladdin’s palace had been, and weep until his eyes were dry and his eyelids sore. Rising that day as usual, he opened the window and looked out and saw before him a building. He rubbed his eyes and stared intently at it, until he had no doubt that it was Aladdin’s palace. He at once called for his horse and rode over to his son-in-law’s dwelling.
When Aladdin saw him approaching he went down and met him in the middle of the square. Taking him by the hand, he led him up to the Princess’ room. Badr-al-Budur was overjoyed at her father’s arrival. The Sultan caught his daughter in his arms, and the two mingled their joyful tears together. Then he asked her how she was and what had happened to her.
‘Father,’ she replied, ‘my spirits did not revive until yesterday, when I saw my husband. He rescued me from a vile Moorish magician. Had it not been for Aladdin I would never have escaped from him, nor would you have seen me again in all your life. I had been pining with grief, not only because I was taken away from you, but also because I was separated from my husband. I shall ever be bound to him in gratitude for delivering me from that wicked enchanter.’
The Princess related to the Sultan all that happened.
‘If you doubt our story, Your Majesty,’ added Aladdin, ‘come along and look at the magician’s body.’
The Sultan followed Aladdin into the apartment and saw the corpse. He ordered his men to take it out and burn it and scatter the ashes to the winds.
‘Forgive me, my son,’ he said to Aladdin, ‘for the injustice I have done you. I may well be excused for what I did, for I thought I had lost my only daughter, who is dearer to me than all my kingdom. You know the great love parents bear their children; mine is greater still, for I have none besides Badr-al-Budur.’
‘Great Sultan,’ Aladdin replied, ‘you have done me no wrong, nor have I offended against Your Majesty. It was all the fault of that wicked magician.’
The Sultan ordered the city to be decorated. The streets were gaily decked, and a month of celebrations was observed in all the kingdom, to mark the return of Badr-al-Budur and her husband.
Nevertheless, Aladdin was not yet entirely safe from danger, although the magician’s body had been burned and its ashes scattered to the winds. The detestable fellow had a brother viler than himself, and as skilled in magic and divination. As the proverb has it, they were as like as the two halves of a split pea. Each dwelt in a different corner of the earth and filled it with his witchcraft, guile, and malice.
Now, it chanced that one day this magician wished to know what had become of his brother. He therefore cast the sand, marked out the figures, and scanned them carefully. He learned to his dismay that his brother was dead. He cast the sand a second time, to see how he had died and where. He discovered that he had died a hideous death in a palace in China at the hands of a youth called Aladdin. Thereupon he rose and made ready for a journey. He traveled over deserts and plains and mountains for many months until he arrived in China and entered the capital where Aladdin lived. There he put up at the foreigners’ inn and, after resting a little, went down to walk about the streets in search of some means to avenge his brother’s death. Presently he came to a coffee shop in the market. It was a large place and many people were gathered there, some playing backgammon and others chess. He sat at one of the tables and heard those next to him talk of a saintly woman called Fatimah who practiced her devotions in a cell outside the town and came to the city only twice a month. She was renowned for her healing powers.
‘Now I have found what I was looking for,’ said the magician to himself. ‘By means of this woman I will carry out my design.’
Then, turning to the people who were praising her virtues, he said to one of them, ‘Good sir, who is this holy woman, and where does she live?’
‘Why, man,’ his neighbor cried, ‘who has not heard of Mistress Fatimah’s miracles? It is evident you are a stranger here, never to have heard of her piety, her long fasts, and her religious exercises.’
‘You are right, sir, I am a stranger,’ said the magician. ‘I arrived in your city only last night. Pray tell me about the miracles of this good woman and where she lives. I have been down on my luck lately, and wish to go to her and seek her prayers, so that I may find comfort in them.’
The man told him of the miracles of Holy Fatimah and her saintliness. Then he took him by the hand and showed him the way to her dwelling in a cave at the top of a little mountain. The magician thanked the man for the trouble he had taken, and then returned to his lodgings.
As chance would have it, the following day Fatimah herself came down to the city. The magician left his lodgings in the morning and noticed the people crowding in the street. He went up to inquire the cause of the hubbub, and found the hermit standing in their midst. All the sick and ailing thronged about her, asking for her blessings and her prayers. As soon as she touched them they were cured. The magician followed her about until she returned to her cave, and then waited for nightfall. When evening came he entered a wine shop, drank a glass of liquor, and made his way to Holy Fatimah’s cell. He found her fast asleep, lying on her back on a piece of matting. He stole toward her without a sound, sat on her stomach, and woke her up. She opened her eyes and was terrified to see a stranger crouching over her.
‘Listen!’ he cried. ‘If you breathe one syllable or scream I will kill you. So get up and do as you are told.’ And he swore to her that if she did his bidding he would not harm her. Then he rose and helped her to her feet.
‘First,’ he said, ‘take my clothes and give me yours.’ She gave him her clothes, together with her headdress, shawl, and veil.
‘Now,’ said the magician, ‘you must stain me with some ointment to make my face the same color as yours.’
The old woman went to a corner and fetched a jar of ointment; she took some in the palm of her hand and rubbed his face with it until its color became like hers. She also gave him her staff and taught him how to walk with it, and what to do when he went down to the city. Finally she placed her beads around his neck and handed him a mirror.
‘Look,’ she said. ‘There is not the slightest difference now between us.’
The magician looked into the mirror and saw that he was indeed her very image. Having gained his objective, he now broke his oath and slew the poor old woman. In the morning he made his way to the city and stood in front of Aladdin’s palace. The people gathered around him, taking him for Holy Fatimah. He did all the things she used to do; he laid his hand on the sick and ailing and recited hymns and prayers for them. Hearing the noise, the Princess ordered one of the servants to find out what was going on. He went to look and presently returned.
‘Mistress,’ he said, ‘it is Holy Fatimah, curing people by her touch. If it is your wish, I will call her in, so that you may receive her blessing.’
‘Go and bring her to me,’ said the Princess. ‘I have heard tell of her miracles and virtues and would much like to see her.’
The servant brought in the magician, disguised in Fatimah’s clothes. On coming to the Princess he offered up a l
ong prayer for her continued health, and no one doubted that he was the saint herself. The Princess got up to receive him; she greeted him and made him sit down beside her. ‘Mistress Fatimah,’ she said, ‘I wish you to stay with me always, so that I may obtain your blessing and follow your example in the ways of piety and goodness.’
This invitation was the very thing the magician wanted. But to complete his deception, he said, ‘I am a poor woman, my lady. I pass my days in a solitary cave. Hermits like myself are not fitted to live in a palace.’
‘Do not worry about that,’ the Princess replied.
‘I will give you a room of your own in my house, where you can worship undisturbed.’
‘I am in duty bound to obey you, my lady,’ said the magician. ‘Only I beg you to let me eat and drink and sit in my room by myself, with no one to intrude on me.’ He requested this for fear he should lift his veil while eating and expose his plot.
‘Fear nothing, Mistress Fatimah,’ said the Princess. ‘It shall be as you wish. Get up now, and I will show you your room.’ She led the disguised magician to the place she had assigned for the holy woman’s use.
‘Mistress Fatimah,’ she said, ‘this room is yours alone. Here you will live in peace and quiet.’
The magician thanked her for her kindness and called down blessings upon her. The Princess then showed him the jeweled dome with its four and twenty windows, and asked him what he thought of it.
‘It is truly beautiful, my daughter,’ the magician replied. ‘There cannot be another place like it in the whole world. Yet I can see that it lacks one thing.’
‘And what may that be, Mistress Fatimah?’ asked the Princess.
‘The egg of a bird called the roc,’ said the magician. ‘If that were hung from the middle of the dome, this hall would be the wonder of the world.’
‘What is this bird,’ asked the Princess, ‘and where can its egg be found?’
‘It is a huge bird, my lady,’ the villain replied. ‘Its strength and size are such that it can carry camels and elephants in its claws and fly with them. This bird is mostly found in the Mountain of Kaf. The builder who constructed this palace can bring you one of its eggs.’
Aladdin and Other Tales from the Arabian Nights Page 10
