“Oh, noble Sultan, my wife is dead,” wept he.
“We must all die,” answered the Sultan; but this was not the reply for which Abu Nowas had hoped.
“True, O Sultan, but I have neither shroud to wrap her in, nor money to bury her with,” went on Abu Nowas, in no wise abashed by the way the Sultan had received his news.
“Well, give him a hundred pieces of gold,” said the Sultan, turning to the Grand Vizir. And when the money was counted out Abu Nowas bowed low, and left the hall, his tears still flowing, but with joy in his heart.
“Have you got anything?” cried his wife, who was waiting for him anxiously.
“Yes, a hundred gold pieces,” said he, throwing down the bag, “but that will not last us any time. Now you must go to the Sultana, clothed in sackcloth and robes of mourning, and tell her that your husband, Abu Nowas, is dead, and you have no money for his burial. When she hears that, she will be sure to ask you what has become of the money and the fine clothes she gave us on our marriage, and you will answer, ‘before he died he sold everything.’”
The wife did as she was told, and wrapping herself in sackcloth went up to the Sultana’s own palace, and as she was known to have been one of Subida’s favourite attendants, she was taken without difficulty into the private apartments.
“What is the matter?” inquired the Sultana, at the sight of the dismal figure.
“My husband lies dead at home, and he has spent all our money, and sold everything, and I have nothing left to bury him with,” sobbed the wife.
Then Subida took up a purse containing two hundred gold pieces, and said: “Your husband served us long and faithfully. You must see that he has a fine funeral.”