ALADDIN AND THE WONDERFUL LAMP
KNOW, O King, that, once upon a time, in a far city of Cathay, there dwelt a poor tailor who had an only son named Aladdin. This boy was a born ne’er-do-well, and persistently resisted all his father’s efforts to teach him a trade by means of which he would be able in future to earn a livelihood. Aladdin would sooner play at knucklebones in the gutter with others as careless as himself than he would set his mind to honest business; and, as to obeying his parents in the smallest matter, it was not in his nature. Such was this boy Aladdin, and yet—so remarkable is the favour of fate—he was strangely predestined for great things.
Stricken with grief because of the waywardness and idle conduct of his son the father fell ill and died, and the mother found great difficulty in supporting herself, to say nothing of the worthless Aladdin as well. While she wore the flesh off her bones in the endeavour to obtain a meagre subsistence Aladdin would amuse himself with his fellow urchins of the street, only returning home to his meals. In this way he continued until he was fourteen years of age, when his extraordinary destiny took him by the hand, and led him, step by step, through adventures so wonderful that words can scarce describe them.
One day he was playing in the gutter with his ragged companions, as was his wont, when a Moorish Dervish came by, and, catching sight of Aladdin’s face, suddenly stopped and approached him. This Dervish was a sorcerer who had discovered many hidden secrets by his black art; in fact, he was on the track of one now; and, by the look on his face as he scrutinised Aladdin’s features, it seemed that the boy was closely connected with his quest.
The Dervish beckoned to one of the urchins and asked him who Aladdin was, who his father was, and indeed all about him. Having thus learned the whole history of the boy and his family the Dervish gave his informer some coins and sent him away to spend them. Then he approached Aladdin and said to him, “Boy, I seem to recognise in thee a family likeness. Art thou not the tailor’s son?” Aladdin answered him that he was, and added that his father was dead.
On hearing this the Dervish cried out with grief and embraced Aladdin, weeping bitterly. The boy was surprised at this and enquired the cause of such sorrow. “Alas!” replied the Dervish with tears running down his cheeks, “my fate is an unhappy one. Boy, I have come from a distant country to find my brother, to look upon his face again, and to cheer and comfort him; and now thou tellest me he is dead.” He took Aladdin’s face in his hands and gazed searchingly upon it as he continued: “Boy, I recognise my brother’s features in thine; and, now that he is dead, I will find comfort in thee.”
Aladdin looked up at him in wonder, for he had never been told that he had an uncle; indeed, he was inclined to doubt the truth of the matter; but, when the Dervish took ten pieces of gold from his purse and placed them in his hand, all doubt was out of the question, and he rejoiced at having found so rich an uncle. The Dervish then asked him concerning his mother and begged him to show him the way to her house. And, when Aladdin had shewed him, he gave the boy more gold and said, “Give this to thy mother with my blessing, and say that her brother-in-law, who has been absent forty years, has returned and will visit her to-morrow to weep with her over the place where his brother is buried.” With this he departed, and Aladdin ran to his mother to tell her the news.
“Mother! Mother!” he cried excitedly, bursting in upon her, “my uncle hath returned after forty years; he wept when I told him my father was dead; he salutes thee and—” “My son,” she broke in, “what are these wild words? Thou hast no uncle, and the only one thou ever hadst died many years before thou wast born.” “Nay, nay;” returned Aladdin, “this is my father’s brother; he recognised my father’s features in mine and wept, and gave me this to bring to thee, with a message that he would come to see thee to-morrow.”
He handed her the gold, and, as the widow took it, her doubt was lessened considerably. “I wonder,” she cried. “Can it be that my husband’s brother did not die after all, or that he has risen from the grave? In either case he is rich and generous.”