On hearing this, Aladdin’s mother was so distressed that her knees shook, and she walked away without replying—even[97] forgetting to pay for the oil. But the man speedily called her back and reminded her that, though the Grand Vizier had never given him an order, she had, and the price of the oil was such and such. In confusion of face she paid him and then hurried away, the oilman looking after her and wondering what manner of woman was this. Had he known all, he might have wondered more, or ceased to wonder.

Meanwhile, Aladdin’s mother went home in a state of great consternation. Though her feet hastened, her heart lagged behind her, for she knew not how to tell her son the terrible news. She was afraid that after his joy at the Sultan’s promise, and his patient waiting, this blow would send him from his mind. Then she contrived it in her thoughts that it was best to provoke her son’s anger against the Sultan, rather than his grief at the loss of Bedr-el-Budur. Accordingly, as soon as she entered the house and found him sitting thinking, as was his wont of late, she said, “O my son, who can put trust in a King?

When I went to buy oil, I found that the Sultan had proclaimed a holiday, and all the shops were closed except one. Tush! There is no faith in Sultans!

“How now, O my mother? ” answered Aladdin. “Treason hath a loud voice. With the Sultan and the Grand Vizier, hush! What ails thee?

Thy hand is a-tremble. ” And she answered him: “O my son, there is no faith nor trust but in God. Said I not to thee that the Grand Vizier was thine enemy? Out on him and the Sultan, for their word is but hot wind, and there is no faith in the promise of a King. ” “I see by thy face and by thy speech,” said Aladdin, “that thou hast some bad news.

What is it, O my mother?

[98]

Then his mother told how that the Sultan had violated his covenant, and how the marriage of the Lady Bedr-el-Budur to the Grand Vizier’s son was to take place that very evening. For this she heaped abuse upon the Grand Vizier, saying that it was only the worst of men that could so lead the Sultan to break his promise. When she had told all, and Aladdin understood how the matter lay, he arose, more in anger than in grief, and cried out against the Grand Vizier and cursed all the parties concerned in the affair. But presently he remembered that, when all seemed lost, he still had the Lamp, and that was something in time of trouble and difficulty. So he suddenly restrained his speech and fell to thinking what manner of death the Vizier’s son should die.

His mother, seeing him in better spirits, questioned him. “What now, O my son? ” she said. “Is thy bitterness of feeling gone? What gift wilt thou send the wedded pair?

Peradventure another bowl of jewels? ” She spoke mockingly for she wanted him to spend his wrath and save his reason. “Nay, O my mother,” replied Aladdin lightly; “they are not wedded yet; and, on my head and eye, verily it is not every knot that holds.

With this he arose and retired to his own chamber, where he brought out the Lamp. Then, having considered well the manner of his wish, he rubbed it. Immediately the Efrite stepped out of the unseen and stood before him, saying, “Thou hast invoked me: what is thy desire? I am the Slave of the Lamp in thy hand and am here to do thy bidding. ” And Aladdin answered: “Know, O Slave of the Lamp, that the Sultan promised me his daughter for my wife, but he has broken his word, and this night she is to be united with the Grand Vizier’s son; wherefore I wish[99] that, as soon as the pair retire, thou take them up, with the couch whereon they lie, and bring them hither to me.

” “I hear and obey,” said the Slave of the Lamp, and immediately vanished.

Aladdin waited expectantly for some time, for he guessed that the moment would not be long delayed when the wedded pair would retire from the ceremonies. And his guess was right, for when he had waited a little longer, suddenly a cold blast of air swept through the chamber; the wall opened and there appeared the Efrite bearing in his arms the wedded pair upon the nuptial couch. They had been transported in the twinkling of an eye, and, when the Efrite had set the couch down at Aladdin’s feet, they were both stupefied with astonishment at this proceeding.

“Take that scurvy thief,” said Aladdin to the Efrite, pointing to the Vizier’s son, “and bind him and lodge him in the wood-closet for the night. ” And the Efrite did so. He took up the Vizier’s son in one hand, and, reaching with the other for cords, drew them from the invisible and bound the miscreant securely. Then he placed him in the wood-closet and blew an icy blast upon him to comfort him. Returning to Aladdin he said, “It is done, O Master of the Lamp!

Is there aught else thou dost desire? ” “Naught but this,” replied Aladdin. “In the morning, when the Sultan is proceeding towards their chamber to wish them long life and happiness, convey them back thither in a state of sleep so that the Sultan’s knock at their door may wake them. ” “I will obey,” said the Efrite, and, in a moment, the air closed over him and he was gone.

And Aladdin smiled to himself to think that this thing had been done. Then he turned to the Lady Bedr-el-Budur,[100] who was sitting weeping on the couch. “O lovely one,” said he, “weep not; for I would not hurt one hair of thy head, nor sully thine honour in any way. Know that I love thee too much to harm thee; but, since thy father the Sultan promised me thee, and has violated his word, I am determined that none other shall call thee his. Rest in peace, lovely lady; for neither am I thy husband nor the thief of thy husband’s honour.

Wherefore, weep not, but rest in peace.

So saying he took a sword that hung on the wall of his chamber, and, having placed it by her side in token of security, he stretched himself upon the couch so that they lay with the sword between them. Thus they passed the night. The Sultan’s daughter wept the long night through, and Aladdin could not close his eyes for thinking of his unfortunate rival’s condition in the wood-closet. Towards morning Bedr-el-Budur, utterly exhausted with weeping, fell asleep; and, as Aladdin gazed upon her, he saw that indeed her loveliness was rare; and, the more he gazed, the more he thought of the unhappy fate of the Vizier’s son. Never was a man so badly treated as to be bound fast on his wedding night and laid in a wood-cellar in deadly fear of the dreadful apparition that had placed him there.

In the morning, while Bedr-el-Budur still slept, the Slave of the Lamp appeared according to Aladdin’s command. “O my master,” he said, “the Sultan hath left his couch and is about to knock at the door of the bridal chamber. I am here to perform thy bidding on the instant. ” “So be it,” answered Aladdin. “Convey them together on the couch back to their place.

” And scarcely had he spoken when the Efrite vanished and reappeared with the Vizier’s son, whom he quickly unbound and laid upon[101] the couch beside the sleeping Bedr-el-Budur. Then, lifting the couch with the two upon it, he vanished, and Aladdin knew that, before the Sultan had knocked at the door of the bridal chamber, everything would be as it had been. Everything? No, not everything; for the Lady Bedr-el-Budur must awake as from a terrible nightmare; and, as for the Vizier’s son, would he sing a song to the Sultan about spending the night in the wood-closet? Aladdin pondered over this and decided that nothing less than a repetition of the affair would wring the truth from either of them.

At this moment the Sultan knocked at the door of the bridal chamber in the Palace, and the Vizier’s son, still cold from the wood-closet, arose and opened to him. The Sultan advanced to the couch, and kissed his daughter, and asked her if she was happy and content. By way of answer she glared at him in sullen silence, for she had not forgotten, in dreams or in waking, what had happened to her. The Sultan, not understanding what had befallen, and feeling annoyed, turned and left the chamber to lay the matter before the Queen, to whose ear their daughter’s tongue might the more easily be loosed. So he came to the Queen and told her how Bedr-el-Budur had received him, concluding his recital with the remark, “Thus it is; there is trouble behind the door of that bridal chamber.”

But the Queen smiled at his serious fears and answered him: “O my Lord the King, thou knowest little of the heart of a woman. When it is happiest, a trifle makes it sad; and, when it would send tears of laughter and joy to the eyes, it sometimes turns perverse against itself for very gladness, and sends tears of pain instead. Wherefore, be not angry with her, but let me go and see her. She will surely confide in me.”

[102]

So saying, she arose and robed herself, and went to the bridal chamber. At first sight of her daughter’s dejected attitude and pained expression she imagined that some lovers’ quarrel over a mere trifle had occurred; but when she kissed her, wishing her good morning, and Bedr-el-Budur answered no word to her salutation, she began to think that some grave trouble rested on her daughter’s mind. And it was not until she had coaxed her, and used every argument known to a mother, that she received an answer to her questions. “Be not angry with me, O my mother,” said Bedr-el-Budur at last, raising her sad, beautiful eyes, “but know that a terrible thing has happened,—a thing which I hardly dare tell thee lest thou think I have lost my reason. Scarcely had we retired, O my mother, when there suddenly appeared a huge black shape,—terrible, horrific in aspect; and this—I know not what nor who—lifted the couch whereon we lay and conveyed us in a flash to some dark and vile abode of the common people.

” And then to her mother’s astonished ears she unfolded the tale of all that had happened during the night till, suddenly, in the morning, she awoke to find the monstrous shape replacing them in the bridal chamber at the moment her father the Sultan had knocked at the door. “And that, O my mother,” she concluded, “is why I could not answer my father, for I was so bewildered and stricken with unhappiness that I thought that I was mad; though, now I have thought about the affair from beginning to end, I know that I have my wits like any other.