The caliph’s present was a complete set of cloth of gold, valued
at one thousand sequins; fifty robes of rich stuff, a hundred other
of white cloth, the finest of Cairo, Suez, Cusa, [51] and
Alexandria; [52] a royal crimson bed, and a second of another
fashion; a vessel of agate broader than deep, an inch thick, and
half a foot wide, the bottom of which represented in bas-relief a
man with one knee on the ground, who held a bow and an arrow, ready
to let fly at a lion. He sent him also a rich table, which,
according to tradition, belonged to the great Solomon. The
caliph’s letter was as follows:
‘Greeting in the name of the sovereign guide of the right way, to
the potent and happy sultan, from Abdallah Haroun Alraschid, whom
God hath set in the place of honour, after his ancestors of happy
memory:
‘We received your letter with joy, and send you this from the
council of our port; the garden of superior wits. We hope, when you
look upon it, you will find our good intention, and be pleased with
it. Adieu.’
The king of Serendib was highly pleased that the caliph answered his
friendship. A little time after this audience, I solicited leave to
depart, and had much difficulty to obtain it. I obtained it however
at last, and the king, when he dismissed me, made me a very
considerable present. I embarked immediately to return to Bagdad,
but had not the good fortune to arrive there as I hoped. God ordered
it otherwise.
Three or four days after my departure, we were attacked by corsairs,
who easily seized upon our ship, because it was no vessel of force.
Some of the crew offered resistance, which cost them their lives.
But for me and the rest, who were not so imprudent, the corsairs
saved us, on purpose to make slaves of us.
Day beginning to appear, Scheherazade was obliged to keep silence,
but next night resumed the story thus:
EIGHTY-NINTH NIGHT.
Sir, said she to the sultan of the Indies, Sindbad continuing his
story, told the company, We were all stripped, and instead of our
own clothes, they gave us sorry rags, and carried us into a remote
island, where they sold us.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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