‘“My daughter,” he said, “I come to give the thanks to the Prophet that are due to him. You have heard from the courier I sent you all Mahomet has done for us. I am so overwhelmed by it that I die with impatience to kiss his knees.”

‘He soon had the satisfaction he sought. I entered by the usual window into Schirina’s apart­ment, where I expected he would be. He threw himself at my feet and kissed the earth, saying:

‘“Oh! great Prophet, no words can express to you all I feel. Read for yourself in my heart all its gratitude.”

‘I raised Bahaman and kissed him on the fore­head.

‘“Prince,” I said, “could you think I would refuse you my help in the dilemma you were placed for love of me? I punished the proud Cassim, who intended to make himself master over your dominions, and take Schirina to place her among the slaves of his seraglio. Do not fear henceforth that any potentate in the world will dare make war on you. If anyone had the audacity to come and attack you, I should let fall upon the troops a shower of fire which would reduce them to cinders.”

‘Having reassured the King of Gazna that I took his kingdom under my protection, I related to him how the army of the enemy had been terrified on seeing stones rain down on the camp. Bahaman repeated to me what Cassim had said to him, and then he retired to leave Schirina and me at liberty. This princess, who was not less sensible than the king, her father, to the service I had rendered to the State, showed me much gratitude and caressed me a thousand times. I almost forgot the passing of time. Day dawned when I regained my coffer; but I had passed so well as Mahomet in every­body’s mind, that had the soldiers seen me in the air they would not have been disabused. I almost fancied myself to be the Prophet after having put an army to rout.

‘Two days after they had buried Cassim, to whom, although an enemy, they gave a superb funeral, the King of Gazna ordered rejoicings to be held in the town as much for the defeat of the enemy as to celebrate solemnly the marriage of the Prin­cess Schirina with Mahomet. I thought I ought to signalise by some wonder a feast made in my honour. To do so I bought in Gazna some pitch, with some cotton-pods, and a light machine for making fire. I passed the day in the wood pre­paring a firework. I dipped the pods in the pitch, and at night, whilst the people were rejoicing in the streets, I rose above the town, as high as was possible so that my coffer might not be distinguished by the light of my firework. Then I struck fire, and lit the pitch, which together with the pods made a very fine display. Then I disappeared into the wood. Day having appeared shortly after, I went into the town to have the pleasure of hearing what was said of me. I was not disappointed. The people said a thousand extravagant things about the trick I had played. Some said it was Mahomet who, to show that their feast was agree­able to him, had made celestial fire appear, and others averred they had seen in the midst of these new meteors the Prophet appear with a white beard and a venerable appearance.

‘These remarks amused me infinitely, but alas! whilst I was enjoying them my coffer, my dear coffer, the instrument of my wonders, was burning in the wood. Apparently a spark which I had not seen ignited the machine during my absence and consumed it. I found it reduced to cinders on my return. A father who, returning home, sees his only son pierced by mortal wounds and bathed in his blood, could not be more deeply grieved than was I at that moment. The wood echoed with my cries and regrets, I tore my hair and garments, I do not know how my life was spared in my despair.

‘The misfortune was, however, without remedy. I must decide upon a course to adopt. One only was left to me—that was to go and seek fortune elsewhere. So the Prophet Mahomet, leaving Bahaman and Schirina much troubled, left the town of Gazna.

‘Three days later I met a big caravan of Cairo merchants who were returning to their country. I mingled with them and went to grand Cairo, where I became a weaver. I remained there several years, then I came to Damascus, where I follow the same pursuit. I appear very pleased with my lot, but am not so really. I cannot forget the happiness I formerly enjoyed. Schirina is ever present in my memory. For my peace of mind I would like to banish her from my thoughts; I do all I can, but in vain.

‘That, sire, is what your majesty has ordered me to tell you. I know you will not approve of the deception I have worked upon the King of Gazna and the Princess Schirina; more than once I have perceived that my story repelled you, and that your virtue was shocked at my sacrilegious audacity. But remember, I pray, that you exacted sincerity from me, and deign to pardon the tale of my adventures on account of the necessity of obeying you.’

The King of Damascus dismissed the weaver after having heard his story. Then he said to the vizir, ‘The adventures which this man has just related to us are not less surprising than yours. But although he is no happier than you, do not think that I give in yet, and that I can conclude from that that nobody in the world enjoys perfect happiness. I wish to interrogate my generals, my courtiers, and all the officers of my house. Go vizir,’ he added, ‘and bring them to me one after the other.’

Atalmulc obeyed; he first brought the generals. The king ordered them to say frankly whether any secret trouble poisoned the sweetness of their life, assuring them that this confession should have no ill-consequences. They all said immediately that they had their troubles and were far from tranquil in their minds. One said he was too ambitious, another too avaricious; another admitted that he was jealous of the glory acquired by his equals, and complained that the people did not do justice to his skill in the art of war. Finally, the generals having revealed their innermost souls, Bedreddin, seeing none of them were happy, said to his vizir that the following day he wished to hear all his courtiers speak.

They were interrogated one after the other. Not one of them was found to be contented. ‘I see,’ said one, ‘my credit diminish daily.’ ‘My plans are thwarted,’ said another, ‘and I cannot attain to what I wish.’ ‘I must,’ said another, ‘cajole my enemies and study to please them.’ Another said he had spent all his wealth and even exhausted all his resources.

The King of Damascus, finding neither among his courtiers nor among his generals the man he sought, thought he might be found among the officers of his house. He had the patience to speak to them one by one, and they made him the same reply as the courtiers and the generals, that is to say, that they were not exempt from trouble. One complained of his wife, another of his children; those who were not rich said that poverty made them unhappy, and those who possessed riches lacked health or had some other cause of grief.

Bedreddin, in spite of all that, could not lose hope of meeting some contented man. ‘Provided I find one,’ he said to the vizir, ‘I do not ask more, for you maintain not one exists.’

‘Yes, sire,’ replied Atalmulc, ‘I maintain it, and your majesty seeks in vain.’

‘I am not yet persuaded of it,’ replied the king, ‘and a method occurs to me of soon knowing what I ought to think on the matter.’

At the same time he ordered it to be published in the town that all those who were satisfied with their lot, and whose rest was not disturbed with any trouble, were to appear in three days before his throne. The time expired; no one appeared at the court; it seemed as though all the inhabitants were of the vizir’s way of thinking.

When the King of Damascus saw that no one presented himself, he was very astonished. ‘It is inconceivable,’ he cried. ‘Is it possible that in Damascus, in a town so large and so peopled, there is no happy man?’

‘Sire,’ said Atalmulc, ‘if you were to interrogate all the people of the earth they would tell you they are unhappy. You alone perhaps do not suffer, for you do not seem to know love.’

‘You are greatly mistaken, then,’ said Bedreddin, ‘to think I am not at all amorous because I have no mistress. To disabuse you I will tell you that I love like you, and that love alone prevents my being happy. It is not a princess who reigns in my heart, it is a woman of lowly condition who absorbs me. I will tell this story. I did not intend to make you such a confidence, but you give me an opportunity I cannot let pass.’