Meanwhile the attendants of Kamlak informed him that Hatim and his followers were almost at hand. On hearing this, the great magician instantly formed a canopy of clouds three thousand cubits above the summit of the mountain. Thither Kamlak and Sam Ahmar with all their attendants transported themselves, and made every entrance fast against their enemies. Hatim at length reached the summit of the mountain, where he beheld a spacious city. On entering, he found it full of the best of food and fruits, also the most delicious of wines, with everything that could excite the palate. His companions immediately began to eat; but the moment they tasted this hellish fare, they became inflated like bottles, as had previously happened at the enchanted lake. Hatim at once discovered that the arch magician had laid this snare for him. He took a cup full of water as previously, and having pronounced the charm over it, he gave it them to drink. As soon as they tasted of this precious draught, the effects of the enchant­ment ceased. Hatim then breathed over the whole of the victuals, and said to his friends, “Now you may eat your full, for the food is become wholesome.” After their hunger was passed, he asked them whether they knew into what part of the mass of clouds above them the magicians had betaken themselves. They replied, that Kamlak and his disciple were in a cloud of the shape of an immense dome that howred above the rest.

Hatim pronounced the sacred name, and seven times blew his breath towards the heaven, when all at once the mass of clouds with the whole of the magicians fell with a crash on the top of the mountain. Hatim’s enemies were so astounded by the fall, that they became an easy prey. Their limbs were disjoined, and many of them were crushed to atoms, and their polluted souls hurled to hell. Sam Ahmar and his preceptor Kamlak soon recovered their senses, and fled they knew not whither along the mountain. On a sudden they plunged headlong over a precipice, and their sinful souls to the prince of darkness.

It may be easily conceived that Hatim’s joy was great at the total defeat of his enemies. He devoutly bowed his head to the dust, and poured out his thanks to God, the giver of victory. This done, he addressed Sarmak, “To thee, my friend, I owe a boon. I promised thee that on defeating these magicians I should bestow their kingdom on thee. This promise I am ready to fulfil, but on condition that thou wilt acknowledge no other God but the only true and Almighty Creator, and that thou wilt protect his worshippers from all injury and oppression.” Having thus addressed his friend, he summoned to his presence the rest of his attendants, and said, “I here in the presence of you all appoint Sarmak your future sovereign, whom you shall obey; and you must above all things acknowledge the true and living God, to whom you shall consider yourselves as servants, and you shall worship him night and day, for of a surety, if you act uprightly, he will reward you accordingly. Meanwhile, farewell! I must hasten to the presence of the queen of beauty, Zarinpash.”— “God be with you, brave man,” they all exclaimed, “rest assured that we shall strictly abide by your orders, and never will disobey the ruler whom you have appointed over us.”

Thus parted Hatim with the subjects of the late magician. Night and day he hurried onwards till he reached the enchanted lake. There he found several of the damsels whom he had formerly seen, stationed as sentinels near the place. “Whence and what are you?” cried the first of them he met. “I am,” replied he “the same who passed several days in your society as I lately travelled this way; I even shared your penance, for my head was for some days suspended to the branches of the tree that over­hangs yonder lake; I pray you, convey my most courteous greeting to the beautiful queen, your mistress.” The fair sentinel ran to her sovereign with this intelligence; saying, “Noble mistress, a young man, whose name Hatim, stands at your gate; he once passed some days with us when under the influence of the enchantment, and now he craves admission into your royal presence.”

The queen, after some consideration, said, “Where can Hatim have been since that time? I believe, however, he has since then journeyed to the mountain of Ahmar, and most likely he will be able to furnish us with some things of my father; go you and ask if this is the case, and if so, admit him.” The damsel made the necessary inquiry, and was answered in affirmative by Hatim, thus, “The magician was one who feared not God, and now his soul is with the ruler of hell, where he receives the reward due to his iniquities, for verily he has been cut off in the midst of his crimes; but all this must be detailed in the presence of the queen.” The sentinel returned and stated to her mistress what Hatim had told her. On hearing this sad news, the queen was exceedingly grieved, and tears fell sopiously from her eyes. Her damsels endeavoured to console her, saying, “Royal mistress, to weep for the death of such a father as yours is really a crime. It is certain that had not your father died, we should have still remained in the bonds of his cruel enchantment; but now let us introduce Hatim, and ask of him the circumstance.” The queen assented, and Hatim, by her request, approached the royal presence. Zarinpash, arrayed in most splendid apparel, sat upon an emerald throne studded with jewels the most costly.

Hatim cast a single look at the queen; senses aban­doned him, and he fell lifeless before her. Alarmed at his apparent illness, she hastily rose up, and seizing a phial of rose-water, sprinkled part of it on his face. When his senses were restored, the queen ordered for him a splendid couch set with gold and made him sit beside her, and in the sweetest tones he ever heard, she began to converse with him on the subject of his journey and the death of her father.

Hatim detailed all that he had seen, and suffered and acted, without the least reservation; and added, “For thee fair queen, I have undergone all these perils and toils. May I hope that my afflictions will bring forth the fruit of joy, and that you will reward my pains with the pleasure of your society, for without you I would sooner die than live.” The damsels in attendance all supported Hatim’s suit, and said, “Our gracious sovereign, this is the renowned prince of Arabia; happy for you was the day when he came here. He love you sincerely; oh, leave him not to despair. Think not of your father’s death, for he was a magician who delighted in cruelty and oppression. Well has it been for mankind that this brave youth has ri dthe world of such a monster.

At last the queen consented, and the usual matrimonial ceremonies being gone through, she was wedded to Hatim; who, when on the point of giving himself up to the pleasure of her society, all at once became dejected and thoughtful. He remembered his friend Munir, the Assyrian prince, and the thoughts of the pangs he must endure so affected Hatim that a trembling seized his whole body. His bride observed his emotion, and stood in the utmost perplexity thinking that she was herself the occasion of it. “Alas!” said she “what have I done in his sight that he should view me with such aversion; or what can I do to arrive at the cause of his uneasiness?” The queen resourceless as she was, remained silent, when at length Hatim observed that she was affected by his strange conduct; he therefore resolved to explain to her the whole affair, in order to clear himself of disrespect towards her; “My soul and life,” said he, “why are you cast down? why should the sun and moon be obscured? Know, my beloved, that I have left my home for the sake of the Assyrian prince Munir, who is deeply enamoured of Husn Banu. This lady has proposed seven questions, and her fair hand shall be the reward of him who may solve them. The Assyrian prince in vain made the attempt, and on his failure, was wandering he knew not whether. I found him in the deserts of Arabia; and having returned with him to Shahabad, I undertook to solve the questions, and at present my friend resides in one of the caravanserais of that city. I have already travelled and found out the solutions of three of these enigmas, and now I am in quest of the fourth. When I saw you, however, I forgot myself and the rest of the world, and now when it has pleased God the Supreme to unite us in the bonds of love, the thoughts of my despairing friend have disturbed my soul. Yea, I have made a vow that I should perform my utmost to serve the Assyrian prince; and to me all worldly pleasures are forbidden, till he has obtained the object of his desire. It would then be highly improper that I should give myself up to enjoyment while he lives on the pangs of expectation; I must therefore proceed instantly to the city of Karam.”— “And what is to become of me in the meantime?” said his lovely bride. “I intend,” replied Hatim, “to convey you to Yemen, my native country, where my father is king.”

In short, Hatim sent his bride with all her attendants to his father’s dominions in Arabia, while he himself pro­ceeded to Karam, which he reached in the course of a few days. On meeting some of the people there, he asked them “Pray, friends, can you tell me if there is a man in this place who exclaims, ‘He who speaks the truth is always tranquil.’ ”— “Truly, stranger,” said they, “there is no man here such as you inquire for; but we know of a man of extreme old age who has written above his door these very words.”— “Can you tell me,” asked Hatim, “where he lives?”— “His residence,” replied they, “is about three farasangs from this city, in a village called Old Karam, for there the city Karam once stood.”

Hatim immediately set out, and in the course of that afternoon arrived at the village of Old Karam. There he beheld a splendid mansion, on the door of which was written the very words of the enigma. He went up to the gate and knocked with his hand; whereupon a voice from within reached his ear, saying, “Stranger, whence art thou, and what is thy business here?”— “I am from Shahabad,” replied Hatim, “and my business is with the owner of this mansion.” The janitor hastened to his master with this intelligence, and was ordered to admit Hatim without delay.

The master of the house, an elderly man, received Hatim with due courtesy, and hospitably entertained him with food and drink. After he had refreshed himself, his host asked him, “Pray tell me, stranger, what is the cause of your journey hither, and from what country are you? it has never been known that more than two foreigners have yet visited this place, and these two you are one.” — “Venerable sir,” replied Hatim, “I am a native of Yemen; and I came hither from the city of Shahabad, where dwells an Assyrian prince, by name Munir. This noble youth is desperately in love with Husn Banu, the queen of that city; and he cannot acquire the object of his wish, except he procure the solution of seven questions which the fair lady has proposed. Three of these I have already answered, and now I am in quest of the fourth, which is no other than the words written above your door.”

The aged man, delighted with Hatim’s statement, replied, “Brave Arab! thou art truly noble; and long will thy fame survive thee in the world. Assuredly there lives not the man who would, for the sake of another, encounter such toils and perils as thine. But to-day thou hast come from afar, and it is fit that thou shouldst repose for the night; to-morrow I shall explain to thee the circumstance connected with the words written on my door.”— “I am willing to comply with your hospitable injunction,” rejoined Hatim, “but yet there is one thing which I should wish to ask of you. All the people of Karam told me that your age was far beyond ordinary; yet you seem to me little past the prime of life, and not a hair of your head yet grey. Is it true, then, as they say, that you have lived since the time when the city of Karam stood on this spot?”— “Brave Hatim!” replied the aged man, “retire to rest for this night and to-morrow you shall be fully informed of all you ask.”