There was a certain king in former times, who had in his service many philosophers, one of whom was far superior to the others, and at that king's court a certain one also who understood and professed in a high degree the astrological art. To the first-mentioned philosopher had just been born a son, and on it being communicated to the king, the philosopher was immediately summoned to the court. But the aforesaid astrologer, hearing of the birth of the son, consulted the stars concerning the destiny of the boy. When the king asked him regarding the boy's horoscope, he answered thus: “To judge, O my master, from the signs and courses of the stars, this new-born child inherits the evil destiny of thieves and wrong-doers;—he will survive many years, and in his thirteenth year he will commit an atrocious robbery.” Upon the astrologer uttering these words, the father of the new-born child said to him: “Have you then made manifest to the king the whole truth concerning my child?” “Yea, O philosopher,” replied he; “for I have accurately examined that which attaches to the destiny of the boy, and discovered that he will become a robber, and the most hardened of robbers.” In answer to this, the philosopher said to the king: “I shall educate my boy, then, in such a manner, that he never would or could commit such a deed, but, on the contrary, I shall cause him to avoid all forbidden acts.”

The child, when eight months old, discontinued suckling his mother's milk. Shut up in a secluded house by his father, he was nourished with succulent victuals, and instructed fully in literature and honourable conduct. While educating his son with such precision and accuracy, the father forbade that any one should visit, or any boy outside the house should approach him, or that he should learn or hear of any evil deed of the out­side world. Brought up in this manner, he commenced his thirteenth year. The father then said to him: “To-morrow, my son, I am desirous of going to the king, and wishing to take you with me, you must know how and by what obeisance you should hail the king.” In this wise the philosopher spoke to his son. The youth, however, upon hearing of the proposed visit to the king, inwardly debated over his father's speech, and said within himself: “I have never seen a king; and as my father tells me I must pay him obeisance, it is proper I should approach his Majesty with aromatic spices, in order that their sweet odour may honour and aggrandise the king. But I am ashamed to ask any details from my father, and yet it behoves me to accom­plish this purpose.”

Thereupon, at the approach of night, he went secretly forth from his father's house, proceeded to the palace, and, having made an opening in the wall, entered close to the royal bed. The king, waking up, was agitated on seeing him, and, being timid and alarmed, said to himself: “If this robber did not possess great strength he would never have dared to enter at midnight;—if I should resist him, he will attempt to kill me.” Communing thus within himself, in silence, he afforded full license to the robber. The youth, then, extending his hand towards the linen clothes of the king, seized a linen cloth of great value, and went out of the palace. Having sold the linen cloth, he purchased with its proceeds myrrh and various per­fumes. On that night, however, the king did not recognise the robber.

On the following day the father, accompanied by his son, went into the king's presence, and both father and son pro­strated themselves in obeisance to the very floor. The son then presented to the king the perfumes and beautiful offerings he had purchased, and began to praise and eulogise his Majesty. And the philosopher said: “O king, live for ever! Behold, I have brought into thy presence my son, concerning whom the astrologer told thee, that in the thirteenth year of his age he should become a robber. He is now thirteen years old, and has not committed a theft. Thy astrologer, therefore, may be, solemnly and in public, declared to be a false prophet, and from this all the words uttered by him have now been proved idle talk.” At these words the king, steadfastly and attentively fixing his eyes on the countenance of the youth and his outward form, recognised him to be the person who had broken through the wall, and the very bold and shameless robber who had stolen the linen cloth from the royal couch. The king then, in answer, said to the philosopher: “This is the robber who entered the king's room, and this being the fact, the prognostication of the astrologer must the rather be relied upon as true.”

“From this narrative, therefore, O king [continues Syntipas], it is clearly shown that at and from the birth of each individual there is a distinct and separate career of life predestined by the Deity. It is not what a child has learned or suffered at the com­mencement of his growth, as happened at the birth of this thy son, but when he arrives at man's estate. Praiseworthy and excellent deeds and prosperous days comprised and brightened his state of manhood, but odious actions and clouds of adversity darkened the mature life of the son of that philosopher whom the king had in his service.”

That this tale—or one of a similar tendency—was also in the Sindibād Nāma is, I think, more than likely, from the circumstance, as stated in p. 112, that where the fragment of the chapter in which it should appear begins, “Sindibād has been making some remarks on the impossibility of avoiding destiny,” and at this place, as in the Greek text, he proceeds to cite the moral precepts of Farīdūn.

It has already been mentioned (note 1, p. 110) that the story of the Four Liberators is not told by Sindibād, but by the Prince; and Professor Comparetti was therefore mistaken in supposing that it had been substituted by the author of the Sindibād Nāma for the tale of Destiny, related by the sage in the Greek version. Moreover, the two tales have nothing in common that should render such a conjecture probable, even if the relator of the Four Liberators was doubtful, the latter having no bearing upon the question of resisting fate.

The Syriac text must have had both the story of the Fox and that of Destiny, although they are wanting in the only known copy, which breaks off at the beginning of the story of the Blind Old Man (see end of note, p. 104). There is also a lacuna in the MS. where the story of the Bathman should be related.

The old Castilian translation wants both the concluding stories of Syntipas, also the tale of the Woman and the Rice-Dealer; the latter was certainly not suppressed from motives of delicacy, since the two most objectionable of the tales proper to the Book of Sindibād are retained. It seems probable that the MS. from which the only extant text was made had lost the leaves con­taining these tales. A new one has been added to the four the Prince has in the Syriac and Greek texts, which is as follows, according to Mr. H. C. Coote's translation: