Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand and One Nights — Volume 2 (of 6)
General
Supplemental Nights to the Book of the Thousand and One Nights — Volume 2 (of 6)
Fairy tales; Tales -- Arab countries
Accordingly the superintendent of the police reclined on the pillow of
rest; and when the sweetmeat was ready his wife took a little and
putting an opiate into it she handed it to him, saying, “How long will
you sleep? To-day is a day of feasting and pleasure, not of sleep and
laziness. Lift up your head and see whether I have made the sweets
according to your taste.” He raised his head, swallowed a piece of the
hot cake and lay down again. The morsel was still in his throat when
consciousness left and a deep sleep overwhelmed him. His wife
immediately undressed him and put on him the garments of the kalandar.
The servant shaved his head and made some tattoo marks on his body. When
the night set in the lady called her servant and said, “Hyacinth, be
kind enough to take the superintendent on thy back, and carry him to the
convent instead of that kalandar, and if he wishes to return to the
house in the morning, do not let him.” The servant obeyed. Towards dawn
the superintendent recovered his senses a little; but as the opiate had
made his palate very bitter, he became extremely thirsty. He fancied
that he was in his own house, and so he exclaimed, “Narcissus, bring
water.” The kalandars awoke from sleep, and after hearing several shouts
of this kind, they concluded that he was under the influence of bang,
and said, “Poor fellow! the narcissus is in the garden; this is the
convent of sufferers, and there are green garments enough here. Arise
and sober thyself, for the morning and harbinger of benefits as well as
of the acquisition of the victuals for subsistence is approaching.” When
the superintendent heard these words he thought they were a dream, for
he had not yet fully recovered his senses. He sat quietly, but was
amazed on beholding the walls and ceiling of the convent: he got up,
looked at the clothes in which he was dressed and at the marks tattooed
on his body, and began to doubt whether he was awake or asleep. He
washed his face, and perceived that the caravan of his mustachios had
likewise departed from the plain of his countenance.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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