Afterwards the princess would have brought him back again into the great hall to make him dine with her: but he considering that then he should be obliged to show his face, which he had always taken care to hide; and fearing that the princess should find out that he was not Fatima, he begged of her earnestly to dispense with him, telling her that he never ate anything but bread and dried fruits, and desiring to eat that slight repast in his own apartment; that the princess granted him, saying, “You may be as free here, good mother, as if you were in your own cell: I will order you a dinner, but remember I expect you as soon as you have finished your repast.” After the princess had dined, and the false Fatima had been informed by one of the eunuchs that she had risen from the table, he failed not to wait upon her. “My good mother,” said the princess, “I am overjoyed to have the company of so holy a woman as yourself, who will confer a blessing upon this palace. But now I am speaking of this palace, pray how do you like it? And before I shew you it all, tell me first what you think of this hall.” Upon this question, the counterfeit Fatima, who, to act his part the better, affected to hang down his head, without so much as ever once lifting it up, at last looked up, and surveying the hall from one end to the other, when he had examined it well, said to the princess, “As far as such a solitary being as I can judge, who am unacquainted with what the world calls beautiful; this hall is truly admirable and most beautiful: there wants but one thing.” “What is that, good mother?” answered the princess Badr-oul-boudour; “tell me, I conjure you. For my part I always believed, and have heard say, it wanted nothing; but if it does, it shall be supplied.” “Princess,” said the false Fatima, with great dissimulation, “forgive me for the liberty I have taken; but my opinion is, if it can be of any importance, that if a roc’s egg was hung up in the middle of this dome, this hall would have no parallel in the four quarters of the world, and your palace would be the wonder of the universe.” “My good mother,” said the princess, “what bird is a roc, and where may one get an egg?” “Princess,” replied the pretended Fatima, “it is a bird of prodigious size, which inhabits the top of mount Caucasus; the architect who built your palace can get you one.”