When Noureddin had ended his story, Whither are you going now? said the caliph. Even where Heaven shall direct me, answered Noureddin. Believe me, replied the caliph, you shall go no farther, but on the contrary, return to Balsora: I will go and write a short letter, which you shall give the king in my name; and you shall see upon the reading of it, he will give you a very handsome reception, and nobody will dare to speak against you. Kerim, said Noureddin, what thou hast told me is very unaccountable and singular: didst thou ever hear that a poor fisherman, as thou art, had any correspondence with a king? Be not astonished at that, replied the caliph; you must know then, that we both studied together under the same masters, and were always the best friends in the world. It is true, fortune has not been equally favourable to us both; she has made him a king, and me but a fisherman. However, this inequality has not at all lessened our friendship: he has often expressed a readiness and desire to advance my fortune, but I always refused it; and am better pleased with the satisfaction of knowing that he never will deny me whatever I ask for the service and advantage of my friends. Let me do it then, and you shall see the success. Noureddin consented to what the caliph had proposed; and there being every thing necessary for writing in the hall, the caliph wrote a letter to the king of Balsora; at the top of which, pretty near the edge of the paper, he placed this set form, in three small characters: ‘In the name of the most merciful God,’ to show he would be absolutely obeyed. THE LETTER OF CALIPH HAROUN ALRASCHID TO THE KING OF BALSORA ‘Haroun Alraschid, son of Mandi, sends this letter to Mohammed Zinchi, his cousin, greeting. As soon as Noureddin, son to the late vizier Khacan, the bearer, has delivered you this letter and you have read it, pull off the royal mantle, put it on his shoulders, and place him in thy seat: fail not. So farewell.’ The caliph folded up the letter, and sealed it, and giving it to Noureddin, without saying any thing of what was in it, Go, said he, and embark immediately in a vessel that is ready to go off, (as there did constantly every day at the same hour), and you may sleep when you are aboard. Noureddin took the letter, and away he went with the little money he had about him when Sangiar gave him his purse; and the Fair Persian, distracted with grief at his departure, retired by herself to one of the sofas, and fell a-weeping bitterly.