entered the gates of his palace. But his wife, the peerless MAREE
JAHANN, perceiving the gravity of his countenance, said, "Why is my
lord cast down and silent? Why are those rare and priceless pearls,
his words, shut up so tightly between those gorgeous oyster-shells, his
lips?" But to this he made no reply. Thinking further to divert him,
she brought her lute into the chamber and stood before him, and sang
the song and danced the dance of BEN KOTTON, which is called IBRAHIM's
DAUGHTER, but she could not lift the veil of sadness from his brow.
When she had ceased, the Prince BULLEBOYE arose and said, "Allah is
great, and what am I, his servant, but the dust of the earth! Lo, this
day has my godmother sickened unto death, and my STOKH become as a
withered palm-leaf. Call hither my servants and camel-drivers, and the
merchants that have furnished me with stuffs, and the beggars who have
feasted at my table, and bid them take all that is here, for it is mine
no longer!" With these words he buried his face in his mantle and wept
aloud.
But MAREE JAHANN, his wife, plucked him by the sleeve. "Prithee, my
lord," said she, "bethink thee of the BROKAH or scrivener, who besought
thee but yesterday to share thy STOKH with him and gave thee his bond
for fifty thousand sequins." But the noble Prince BULLEBOYE, raising his
head, said: "Shall I sell to him for fifty thousand sequins that which I
know is not worth a SOO MARKEE? For is not all the BROKAH'S wealth, even
his wife and children, pledged on that bond? Shall I ruin him to save
myself? Allah forbid! Rather let me eat the salt fish of honest penury,
than the kibobs of dishonorable affluence; rather let me wallow in
the mire of virtuous oblivion, than repose on the divan of luxurious
wickedness."
When the prince had given utterance to this beautiful and edifying
sentiment, a strain of gentle music was heard, and the rear wall of the
apartment, which had been ingeniously constructed like a flat, opened
and discovered the Ogress of SILVER LAND in the glare of blue fire,
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