Arabs -- Folklore; Fairy tales; Fairy tales -- Arab countries; Folklore -- Arab countries; Tales -- Arab countries
The sultan, still counterfeiting the pronunciation of the black, said:
"What you have now done is by no means sufficient for my cure; you have
only removed a part of the evil; you must cut it up by the root." "My
lovely black," resumed the queen, "what do you mean by the root?"
"Wretched woman," replied the sultan, "understand you not that I allude
to the town and its inhabitants, and the four islands, destroyed by thy
enchantments? The fish every night at midnight raise their heads out of
the lake, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true
cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things to their
former state, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt
help me to arise."
The enchantress, inspired with hope from these words, cried out in a
transport of joy, "My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored to your
health, for I will immediately do as you command me." Accordingly she
went that instant, and when she came to the brink of the lake she took a
little water in her hand, and sprinkling it, she pronounced some words
over the fish and the lake, and the city was immediately restored. The
fish became men, women, and children; Mohammedans, Christians, Persians,
or Jews; freemen or slaves, as they were before: every one having
recovered his natural form. The houses and shops were immediately filled
with their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the
enchantment. The sultan's numerous retinue, who found themselves
encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see themselves in an
instant in the middle of a large, handsome, well-peopled city.
To return to the enchantress: As soon as she had effected this wonderful
change, she returned with all expedition to the Palace of Tears, that
she might receive her reward. "My dear lord," cried she, as she entered,
"I have done all that you required of me, then pray rise and give me
your hand." "Come near," said the sultan, still counterfeiting the
pronunciation of the black. She did so. "You are not near enough," he
continued; "approach nearer." She obeyed. He then rose up, and seizing
her by the arm so suddenly that she had not time to discover him, he
with a blow of his cimeter cut her in two, so that one half fell one way
and the other another. This done, he left the body on the spot, and
going out of the Palace of Tears, went to seek the young king of the
Black Isles, who waited for him with great impatience. When he found
him, "Prince," said he, embracing him, "rejoice; you have now nothing to
fear; your cruel enemy is dead."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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