‘You will know to-morrow,’ replied Arouya. ‘Only remember that I have promised you that we shall be revenged in a startling way, and be assured I shall keep my word to you.’

The following day she came to my palace and slipped into the hall where I was giving audience to my people. As soon as I perceived her, her noble bearing and the beauty of her figure attracted my attention. I remarked upon her to my grand vizir. ‘Do you see that well-built woman?’ I said. ‘Tell her to approach my throne.’ The vizir told her to advance. She pressed through the crowd, and came and prostrated herself before me.

‘What brings you here?’ I asked. ‘Rise and speak.’

‘O! powerful monarch of the world,’ she replied, having risen, ‘may your majesty’s days be ever­lasting, or at least only end with the centuries! If you will have the kindness to listen to me, I will tell you a story which will surprise you.’

‘Willingly,’ I said. ‘I am disposed to listen to you.’

‘I am,’ she continued, ‘the wife of a merchant named Banou, who has the honour to be your subject, and to live in your capital. Some years ago he lent a thousand sequins to the doctor Danischmend, who maintains that he never received them. I have been to him to ask for them: he replied that he owed nothing to my husband, but that he would give me two thousand sequins if I would return his love for me. I went to com­plain to the cadi of the doctor’s bad faith. The judge declared he would not render me justice unless I showed him the complacency exacted of me by Danischmend. Confused, and indignant at the cadi’s bad character, I left him abruptly, and addressed myself to the Governor of Damascus, because my husband is known to him. I implored his aid: but I did not find him more generous than the cadi, and he spared no pains to win my love.’

I had much difficulty in believing what Arouya related to me, or rather I suspected her of inventing this fable to do Danischmend, the cadi and the governor a bad turn with me.

‘No, no,’ I said, ‘I cannot believe what you tell me. I cannot persuade myself that a doctor can be capable of denying that he has received a sum lent to him, nor that a man whom I have chosen to distribute justice to the people has made you an insolent proposal.’

‘O! king of the world,’ said the wife of Banou to me, ‘if you refuse to believe my word, you will at least, I hope, believe the irreproachable witnesses I have to all that I tell you.’

‘Where are these witnesses?’ I replied with astonishment.

‘Sire,’ she replied, ‘they are at my house: send for them I beg. Your majesty will not be able to suspect their genuineness.’

I immediately sent guards to the house of Banou, who delivered to them the three coffers containing the lovers.

The guards having brought them into my presence, Arouya said to me:

‘My witnesses are in these.’

Thus saying, she took out three keys and opened the coffers.

Judge of my surprise, as well as that of the whole court, when we perceived the doctor, the governor and the cadi, all three turbanless, pale, confused, and very mortified at the result of the adventure.

I could not help laughing to see them in this situation, which did not fail to excite also the laughter of all the spectators. But I soon assumed a serious demeanour, and reproached the three in well-deserved terms.

After having publicly reproached them, I con­demned the doctor, Danischmend, to give four thousand gold sequins to Banou; I deposed the cadi; and I entrusted the government of the town of Damascus to another officer of my court.

Then, having had the coffers removed, I ordered the young woman to raise her veil.

‘Show us,’ I said, ‘those dangerous features, the sight of which has been so fatal to the three persons whom they have charmed.’

The wife of Banou obeyed. She raised her veil, and displayed to us all the beauty of her face. The emotion which the occasion and the necessity of remaining exposed to the glances of all my court caused her, added a fresh brilliancy to her complexion.

I have never seen anything so beautiful as Arouya.

I admired her charms, and cried in the excess of my admiration:

‘Ah! how beautiful she is! The doctor, the cadi, and the governor no longer appear to me so guilty.’

I was not the only one she dazzled. At the sight of her incomparable beauty, a murmur of applause arose in the court. Everyone had eyes only for her. They could not tire of looking at her and praising her. As I expressed a wish to hear a detailed account of the story she had briefly told to us, she related it to us with so much wit that she increased our admiration still further. The audience-hall resounded with her praises, and those who knew Banou, in spite of the bad state of his affairs, thought him only too fortunate to have so charming a wife.

After she had satisfied my curiosity, she thanked me for the justice I had done her, and retired home.

But alas! if she was no longer before my eyes, she was continually in my thoughts. Her image was always before me, I could not for a single moment distract myself from it. And at last, seeing that she troubled my rest, I sent secretly for her husband. I had him shown into my cabinet, and spoke to him thus:

‘Listen, Banou. I know the situation to which your generous heart has reduced you, and I do not doubt that you feel the chagrin at not being able to live as you have lived till now more than your poverty itself.

‘I have resolved to put you again in a position to entertain your friends; you can even spend more than ever without fearing to fall into want again. In a word, I wish to load you with wealth, provided that on your part you are disposed to do what I ask. I have conceived a violent passion for your wife. Divorce her, and send her to me. Make this sacrifice for me, I beg of you, and out of gratitude, beside all the riches which I will give you, I consent for you to choose the most beautiful slave in my seraglio. I am going to conduct you myself into the apartment of my women, and you shall take the one that pleases you best.’

‘Great king,’ replied Banou, ‘the wealth you offer me, considerable as it may be, cannot tempt me if it is to be bought by the loss of my wife. Arouya is a hundred times dearer to me than all the riches in the world. Judge, sire, of my feelings by your own, and you will see whether I can be dazzled by the brilliant fortune which you offer me. Such, however, is the love I have for my wife, that I am capable of preferring her own happiness to mine. I am going now to find her, and to tell her the effect which her beauty has produced on you, and the offers you have made me to induce me to yield her to you. Perhaps, charmed by so glorious a conquest, she will evince a secret desire to be divorced, and if that is so, I swear that I will divorce her without hesitation, in spite of the affection I have for her. I will sacrifice myself to her happiness, whatever grief her loss may cause me.

As soon as he had left me, he went home to tell his wife of the interview he had just had with me.

‘Arouya,’ he said, after having told her every­thing I had proposed to him, ‘my dear Arouya, since you have charmed the king, profit by your good fortune. Go and live with this young monarch. He is amiable and more worthy than me to possess you. In making the happiness of his life you will enjoy a finer fate than that of being associated with my misfortunes.’

He could not say these words without shedding tears. His wife was much touched by them.

‘O, Banou!’ she replied, ‘do you think you cause me any joy in telling me of the king’s love? Do you think greatness affects me? Ah! undeceive yourself if you have that thought, and believe rather, all unfortunate as you are, that I prefer to live with you rather than with any prince in the world.’

The old merchant was delighted at this speech; he embraced his wife with ecstasy.

‘Phoenix of the century,’ he cried, ‘how you deserve praise! You are worthy to reign over the heart to which you prefer me. It is not just that so charming a wife should belong to a man like me. I am already far advanced in years, and you are only beginning your fair life. I am only an unfortunate man, and you can, in leaving me, enjoy the happiest of destinies. You have remained too long bound to a man who has nothing in his favour but your virtue. Do not refuse the rank to which love calls you, and without reflecting how unhappy I shall be when I shall have lost you, consent to my divorcing you to make your lot more pleasant.’

The more Banou showed that he wished to give up Arouya to me, the more she resisted. Finally, after a long combat, in which conjugal love gained the day, the merchant said to his wife:

‘O, my dear spouse, be content to reign over my heart, since you limit your desires to that; but what shall I tell the king? He awaits my answer, and he doubtless flatters himself it will be such as he would wish. If I go and announce your refusal to him, what have we not to fear from his resent­ment? Remember that he is a sovereign. You know that he can do everything. Perhaps he will employ violence to obtain you; I cannot defend you against so powerful a rival.’