“Don’t affright yourself, Prince,” replied the Fairy; “you ran a risk in
fetching the Water of the Fountain of Lions for your father, but there’s
no danger in finding out this man, who is my brother Schaibar, but is so
far from being like me, though we both had the same father, that he is
of so violent a nature that nothing can prevent his giving cruel marks
of his resentment for a slight offense; yet, on the other hand, is so
good as to oblige anyone in whatever they desire. He is made exactly as
the Sultan your father has described him, and has no other arms than a
bar of iron of five hundred pounds weight, without which he never stirs,
and which makes him respected. I’ll send for him, and you shall judge
of the truth of what I tell you; but be sure to prepare yourself against
being frightened at his extraordinary figure when you see him.” “What!
my Queen,” replied Prince Ahmed, “do you say Schaibar is your brother?
Let him be never so ugly or deformed I shall be so far from being
frightened at the sight of him that, as our brother, I shall honor and
love him.”
The Fairy ordered a gold chafing-dish to be set with a fire in it under
the porch of her palace, with a box of the same metal, which was a
present to her, out of which taking a perfume, and throwing it into the
fire, there arose a thick cloud of smoke.
Some moments after the Fairy said to Prince Ahmed: “See, there comes my
brother.” The Prince immediately perceived Schaibar coming gravely with
his heavy bar on his shoulder, his long beard, which he held up before
him, and a pair of thick mustachios, which he tucked behind his ears and
almost covered his face; his eyes were very small and deep-set in his
head, which was far from being of the smallest size, and on his head he
wore a grenadier’s cap; besides all this, he was very much hump-backed.
If Prince Ahmed had not known that Schaibar was Paribanou’s brother,
he would not have been able to have looked at him without fear, but,
knowing first who he was, he stood by the Fairy without the least
concern.
Schaibar, as he came forward, looked at the Prince earnestly enough to
have chilled his blood in his veins, and asked Paribanou, when he first
accosted her, who that man was. To which she replied: “He is my husband,
brother. His name is Ahmed; he is son to the Sultan of the Indies. The
reason why I did not invite you to my wedding was I was unwilling to
divert you from an expedition you were engaged in, and from which I
heard with pleasure you returned victorious, and so took the liberty now
to call for you.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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