His mother was much surprised to see the great tray, twelve dishes,
six loaves, the two flagons and cups, and to smell the savory odor
which exhaled from the dishes.
"Child," said she, "to whom are we obliged for this great plenty and
liberality? Has the sultan been made acquainted with our poverty, and
had compassion on us?"
"It is no matter, mother," said Aladdin. "Let us sit down and eat; for
you have almost as much need of a good breakfast as I myself. When we
have done, I will tell you."
Accordingly, both mother and son sat down and ate with the better
relish as the table was so well furnished. But all the time Aladdin's
mother could not forbear looking at and admiring the tray and dishes,
though she could not judge whether they were silver or any other
metal, and the novelty more than the value attracted her attention.
The mother and son sat at breakfast till it was dinner time, and then
they thought it would be best to put the two meals together. Yet,
after this they found they should have enough left for supper, and two
meals for the next day.
When Aladdin's mother had taken away and set by what was left, she
went and sat down by her son on the sofa, saying, "I expect now that
you will satisfy my impatience, and tell me exactly what passed
between the genie and you while I was in a swoon."
He readily complied with her request.
She was in as great amazement at what her son told her as at the
appearance of the genie, and said to him, "But, son, what have we to
do with genies? I never heard that any of my acquaintance had ever
seen one. How came that vile genie to address himself to me, and not
to you, to whom he had appeared before in the cave?"
"Mother," answered Aladdin, "the genie you saw is not the one who
appeared to me. If you remember, he that I first saw called himself
the slave of the ring on my finger; and this you saw, called himself
the slave of the lamp you had in your hand; but I believe you did not
hear him, for I think you fainted as soon as he began to speak."
"What!" cried the mother, "was your lamp then the occasion of that
cursed genie's addressing himself to me rather than to you? Ah! my
son, take it out of my sight, and put it where you please. I had
rather you would sell it than run the hazard of being frightened to
death again by touching it; and if you would take my advice, you would
part also with the ring, and not have anything to do with genies, who,
as our prophet has told us, are only devils."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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