As soon as I saw the young man, I entreated him to alight, and asked
him if he would not take his money? There is no hurry, said he, with
a pleasant easy air, I know it is in good hands; I will come and
take it when my other money is all gone: Adieu, continued he, I will
come again towards the latter end of the week. With that, he struck
the ass, and was soon out of sight. Well, thought I to myself, he
says he will see me towards the latter end of the week, but it is
likely I may not see him in a great while; I will go and make the
most of his money, and shall get a good profit by it.
And as it happened, I was not out in my conjecture; for it was a
full year before I saw my young merchant again. Then he appeared
indeed, with richer apparel than before, but seemed to have
something on his mind. I asked him to do me the honour to walk into
my house. For this time, replied he, I will go in; but upon this
condition, that you shall put yourself to no extraordinary charge
upon my account. I will do just as you please, said I; only do me
the favour to alight and walk in. Accordingly, he complied, and I
gave orders for an entertainment; and while that was getting ready,
we fell into discourse together. When the entertainment was got
ready, we sat down to table. I observed he took the first mouthful
with his left hand, and not with the right. I could not tell what to
think of it. Said I to myself, ever since I knew this young man, he
always appeared very polite; is it possible he can do this out of
contempt of me? What can be the matter, that he does not make use of
his right hand?
I was very anxious to know, why my guest ate with the left hand.
After we had done eating, and every thing was taken away, we sat
down upon a sofa, and I presented him with a lozenge by way of
dainty, and still he took it with his left hand. Then I said to him,
Pardon, sir, the liberty I take, in asking you what reason you have
for not making use of your right hand? Perhaps you have some
complaint in that hand. Instead of answering, he fetched a deep
sigh, and pulling out his right arm, which he had hitherto kept
under his garment, showed me, to my great astonishment, that his
hand had been cut off. Doubtless, you were alarmed, said he, to see
me feed myself with the left hand; but I leave you to judge whether
it was in my power to do otherwise. May one ask you, said I, by what
mischance it was that you lost your right hand? Upon that, he burst
into tears, and after wiping his eyes, gave me the following
relation.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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