At this discourse I changed colour, and fell a trembling. While the tailor was asking me the reason, my chamber door opened at once, and the old man, having no patience to stay, appeared to us with my hatchet and cords. This man was the genie, the ravisher of the fair princess of the isle of Ebene, who had thus disguised himself, after he had treated her with the utmost barbarity. I am a genie, said he, son of the daughter of Eblis, prince of genies: is not this your hatchet? said he, speaking to me, and are not these your cords? Here Scheherazade saw day, and left off. The sultan found the story of the second calender too curious not to desire that he might hear it out; and therefore got up, with an intention to hear the rest next morning. FORTY-FIFTH NIGHT. The day following, Dinarzade called upon the sultaness, My dear sister, pray tell us how the genie treated the prince. --I wish to satisfy your curiosity, replied Scheherazade; and then resumed her story of the second calender thus: The calender continuing his discourse to Zobeide, Madam, said he, after the genie had put the question to me, he gave me no time to answer, nor was it in my power, so much had his terrible aspect disordered me. He grasped me by the middle, dragged me out of the chamber, and mounting into the air, carried me up to the skies with such swiftness, that I perceived I was got so high without being able to take notice of the way he carried me in so few moments. He descended again in like manner to the earth, which on a sudden he caused to open with a stroke of his foot, and so sunk down at once, where I found myself in the enchanted palace, before the fair princess of the isle of Ebene. But alas! what a spectacle was there! I saw what pierced me to the heart; this poor princess was quite naked, weltering in her blood, and laid upon the ground, more like one dead than alive, with her cheeks bathed in tears. Perfidious wretch, said the genie to her, pointing at me, is not this your gallant? She cast her languishing eyes upon me, and answered mournfully, I do not know him; I never saw him till this moment. --What! said the genie, he is the cause of thy being in the condition thou art justly in; and yet darest thou say thou dost not know him? --If I do not know him, said the princess, would you have me make a lie on purpose to ruin him? --Oh then, said the genie, pulling out a scimitar, and presenting it to the princess, if you never saw him before, take the scimitar and cut off his head. --Alas! replied the princess, how is it possible that I should execute what you would force me to do? My strength is so far spent that I cannot lift up my arm; and if I could, how should I have the heart to take away the life of an innocent man, and one whom I do not know? --This refusal, said the genie to the princess, sufficiently informs me of your crime. Upon which, turning to me, And thou, said he, dost thou not know her?