Arabs -- Folklore; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Arab countries; Folklore -- Arab countries; Tales -- Arab countries
From the time of the transportation of Aladdin's palace, the princess's
father had been inconsolable for the loss of her. Before the disaster he
used to go every morning into his closet to please himself with viewing
the palace; he went now many times in the day to renew his tears, and
plunge himself into the deepest melancholy, by reflecting how he had
lost what was most dear to him in this world.
The very morning of the return to the palace, the sultan went into his
closet to indulge his sorrows. Absorbed in himself, and in a pensive
mood, he cast his eyes toward the spot, expecting only to see an open
space; but perceiving the vacancy filled up, he at first imagined the
appearance to be the effect of a fog; looking more attentively, he was
convinced beyond the power of doubt that it was his son-in-law's palace.
Joy and gladness succeeded to sorrow and grief. He returned immediately
into his apartment, and ordered a horse to be saddled and brought to him
without delay, which he mounted that instant, thinking he could not make
haste enough to the palace.
Aladdin, who foresaw what would happen, rose that morning by daybreak,
put on one of the most magnificent habits his wardrobe afforded, and
went up into the hall of twenty-four windows, from whence he perceived
the sultan approaching, and got down soon enough to receive him at the
foot of the great staircase. "Aladdin," said the sultan, "I cannot speak
to you till I have seen and embraced my daughter." The happy father was
then led to the princess's apartment and embraced her with his face
bathed in tears of joy. The sultan was some time before he could open
his lips, so great was his surprise and joy to find his daughter again,
after he had given her up for lost; and the princess, upon seeing her
father, let fall tears of rapture and affection.
At last the sultan broke silence, and said: "I would believe, daughter,
your joy to see me makes you seem as little changed as if no misfortune
had befallen you; yet I cannot be persuaded but that you have suffered
much alarm; for a large palace cannot be so suddenly transported as
yours has been, without causing great fright and apprehension. I would
have you tell me all that has happened, and conceal nothing from me."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account