Thereat was his father so in dole that his heart was near to bursting,
and weak as he was, he riseth and goeth out of the house, weeping.
"Son," said he, "I commend thee to God. But since ye are fain of my
going, in God's name, give me a fragment of a strip of thy coverlet--no
very precious thing is that--for in truth I am so scantly clad I may not
endure the cold, and it is from this I most suffer; wherefore I ask of
thee wherewith to cover me withal." But his son, who ever shrank from
giving, made answer: "Father, I have none; this is not the season of
gifts, and none shall ye get at this time, and if I am not robbed and
pillaged." "But fair, sweet son, all my body is a-tremble and greatly do
I doubt the cold; do but give me such a covering as thou usest for thy
horse, that the frost may do me no hurt." And the young man who was fain
of his departure, saw that he could not be quit of him and if he did not
grant him somewhat; so, for that he desired to be rid of him, he bade
his son give the old man what he asked.
The child sprang up when he was called, "And what is your will, sir?"
asked he. "Fair son," quoth the young master, "I would that if ye find
the stable door open, ye give my father the blanket that is upon my
black horse; give him the best, and if it be his will, he may make of it
a covering or cloak or capuchon." "Fair grandfather, now come with me,"
said the child who was ready of wit. So the good man all in anger and
sorrow departed with him. The child found the covering, and he took the
newest and the best, the biggest and the widest, and folded it adown
the middle, and as fair and even as he might, cut it atwain with his
knife, and gave the half thereof to his grandfather. "Fair boy," quoth
the old man, "what would ye? Thy father hath given the cloak to me,
wherefore then hast thou cut it atwain? Herein hast thou done a great
wrong, for thy father had commanded that I should have it whole and
undivided, so now will I go my ways back to him again." "Go wheresoever
it pleaseth you, for no more shall you get of me," saith the boy.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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