Arabs -- Folklore; Fairy tales; Folklore -- Arab countries
It is an addition to my joy, answered the young prince, to understand
that my victory will save the lives of those unfortunate persons. Come
along with me, madam, to partake in the satisfaction of giving them their
liberty. You may guess by yourself how welcome we shall be to them.
Having so said, they advanced towards the door of the dungeon; and the
nearer they drew, the more distinctly they heard the complaints of the
prisoners. Codadad pitying them, and impatient to put an end to their
sufferings, put one of the keys into the key-hole, which proved not to be
the right one at first, and therefore he took another; at which noise all
those unfortunate creatures, concluding it was the black, who came,
according to custom, to bring them some meat, and at the same time to
seize one of them to eat himself, redoubled their cries and groans.
Lamentable voices were heard, which sounded as if they had come from the
centre of the earth.
In the mean time, the prince had opened the door, and went down a very
steep stair-case into a large and deep vault, which received some small
light from a little window, and in which there were above a hundred
persons bound to stakes, and their hands tied. Unfortunate travellers,
said he to them, wretched victims, who only expected the moment of an
approaching cruel death, give thanks to Heaven, which has this day
delivered you by my means. I have slain the black by whom you were to be
devoured, and am come to knock off your irons. The prisoners hearing
these words, all together gave a shout, occasioned by joy and surprise.
Codadad and the lady began to unbind them; and, as soon as any of them
were loose, they helped to take off the fetters from the rest; so that in
a short time they were all at liberty.
They then kneeled down, and, having returned thanks to Codadad for what
he had done for them, went out of the dungeon; and when they were come
into the court, how surprising it was for the prince to see among the
prisoners those he was in search of, and almost out of hopes to find!
Princes, cried he, am I not deceived? is it not you I behold? May I
flatter myself that it will be in my power to restore you to the king
your father, who is inconsolable for the loss of you? But will he not
have some one to lament? Are you all here alive? Alas! the death of one
of you will suffice to damp all the joy I conceive for having delivered
you.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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