It was not until late on a day thereafter that Aladdin found the jewellers and goldsmiths adding to the work the last stones at their command. “Hast thou jewels enough?” he asked of the chief artificer. “Nay, O my master,” he replied sadly. “We have used all the jewels in the Treasuries; yea, even in all the kingdom, and yet the work is only half finished.”
“Take it all away!” said Aladdin. “Restore the jewels to their rightful owners.” So they undid their work and returned the jewels to the Treasuries and to the people from whom they had been taken. And they went in to the Sultan and told him. Unable to learn from them the exact reason for this, the Sultan immediately called for his attendants and his horses and repaired to Aladdin’s palace.
Meanwhile, Aladdin himself, as soon as the workmen had left, retired to a private chamber; and, taking out the Lamp, rubbed it. “Ask what thou wilt,” said the Slave, appearing on the instant. “I desire thee to complete the niche which was left incomplete,” answered Aladdin. “I hear and obey,” said the Slave, and vanished. In a very short space of time he returned, saying, “O my master, the work is complete.” Then Aladdin arose and went to the kiosk, and found that the Slave had spoken truly; the niche was finished. As he was examining it, a memluk came to him and informed him that the Sultan was at the gates. At this Aladdin hastened to meet him. “O my son,” cried the Sultan as Aladdin greeted him, “why didst thou not let my jewellers complete the niche in the kiosk? Wilt thou not have the palace whole?” And Aladdin answered him, “O my lord, I left it unfinished in order to raise a doubt in thy mind and then dispel it; for, if thy Felicity doubted my ability to finish it, a glance at the kiosk as it now stands will make the matter plain.” And he led the Sultan to the kiosk and showed him the completed niche.
The Sultan’s astonishment was now greater than ever, that Aladdin had accomplished in so short a space that which he himself could command neither workmen nor jewels sufficient to accomplish in many months. It filled him with wonder. He embraced Aladdin and kissed him, saying there was none like him in all the world. Then, when he had rested awhile with his daughter Bedr-el-Budur, who was full of joy and happiness, the Sultan returned to his own palace.
As the days passed by Aladdin’s fame went forth through all the land. It was his daily pleasure to ride through the City with his memluks, scattering gold among the people, and there was no kind of generosity or kindness that he did not practise. His hospitality drew the nobles and grandees to his table, and his name was exalted far and wide. In the chase and on the riding ground there was none could vie with Aladdin, and frequently Bedr-el-Budur, watching from a window in the palace, would glow with love and pride at the sight of his graceful and daring horsemanship in the javelin joust. Then she would say within herself, “A lucky one am I to have escaped the Vizier’s son.”
Now it chanced that the Sultan’s enemies from distant parts invaded his territory and rode down against him. The Sultan assembled his armies for war and gave the chief command to Aladdin, whose skill and prowess had found great favour in his eyes. And Bedr-el-Budur wept when Aladdin went forth to the wars, but great was her delight when he returned victorious, having routed the enemy in a great battle with terrible slaughter. Many were the tales the soldiers told of Aladdin’s courage and strength, his daring when, at the head of his troops, he thundered down upon the enemy, sword in hand, and broke and dispersed them. A great triumph was held in the City, for Aladdin returned not only with victory, but with much plunder and many flocks and herds of which he had despoiled the enemy. And the Sultan rejoiced over Aladdin in that he had saved the realm and smitten his enemies; and Bedr-el-Budur wept upon his breast with delight that he had returned to her safe and sound and covered with glory. The City was illuminated, and everyone feasted and drank by order of the Sultan, and praised Aladdin by the dictate of their own hearts. So greatly was he magnified by the people of high and low degree that, if any swore, it was by Allah in Heaven and by Aladdin on earth. Such was his exalted position in the land.
Now the fame of Aladdin penetrated even to distant parts, so that his name was heard even in the land of the Moors, where the accursed Dervish dwelt. This sorcerer had not yet made an end of lamenting the loss of the Lamp just as it seemed about to pass into his hands. And, while he lamented, he cursed Aladdin in his bitter rage, saying within himself, “’Tis well that ill-omened miscreant is dead and buried, for, if I have not the Lamp, it is at least safe, and one day I may come by it.” But when he heard the name “Aladdin,” and the fame attached to it, he muttered to himself, “Can this be he? And hath he risen to a high position through the Lamp and the Slave of the Lamp?” Then he rose and drew a table of magic signs in the sand in order to find if the Aladdin of Destiny were indeed alive upon the earth. And the figures gave him what he feared. Aladdin was alive and the Lamp was not in the cavern where by his magic he had first discovered it. At this a great fear struck him to the heart, and he wondered that he had lived to experience it, for he knew that at any moment Aladdin, by means of the Slave of the Lamp, might slay him for revenge. Wondering that this had not occurred to Aladdin’s mind he hastened to draw another table; by which he saw that Aladdin had acquired great possessions and had married the Sultan’s daughter. At this his rage mastered his fear and he cursed Aladdin with fury and envy. But, though his magic was great, it could not cope with that which slumbered in the Lamp, and his curses missed their mark, only to abide the time when they might circle back upon him. Meanwhile, in great haste, he arose and journeyed to the far land of Cathay, fearing every moment that Aladdin would bethink him of revenge by means of the Slave of the Lamp. Yet he arrived safely at the City of the Sultan and rested at an inn where he heard naught but praises of Aladdin’s generosity, his bravery in battle, his beautiful bride Bedr-el-Budur and his magnificent palace. This gave a biting edge to his envious wrath, and, when he went forth into the ways of the City and still heard groups of people talking of Aladdin and the splendour of his state, he approached a young man, and, saluting him with feigned graciousness, said, “O my master, pray tell me, who is this great one that all extol?” And the young man replied, “Verily thou art a stranger in the City and from exceeding distant parts if thou hast not heard of Aladdin—whose glory be increased! His wonderful palace is the talk of the world.” “Yea,” answered the Dervish, “I am a stranger from very distant lands and there is nothing more to my desire than to see the palace, if thou wilt direct me.” “On the head and eye,” replied the youth; and, leading him through the City, he brought him to Aladdin’s Palace. Then, when the Dervish scrutinised the wonderful building, he knew it to be the work of the Slave of the Lamp. “By Allah!” he cried when the youth had left him, “I will be even with this accursed tailor’s son who got all this through me.”
He returned to the inn, and, taking his instruments of divination, soon learned that the Lamp was not on Aladdin’s person, but in the Palace. At this he was overjoyed, for he had a plan to get possession of it. Then he went out into the market and bought a great number of new lamps, which he put in a basket and took back to the inn. When evening was drawing nigh, he took the basket and went forth in the City—for such was his plan—crying, “New lamps for old! Who will exchange old lamps for new?” And the people hearing this, laughed among themselves, saying he was mad; and none brought an old lamp to him in exchange for a new one, for they all thought there was nothing to be gained out of a madman. But when the Dervish reached Aladdin’s palace he began to cry more lustily, “New lamps for old! Who will exchange old lamps for new?” And he took no heed of the boys who mocked him and the people who thronged him.
The Lady Bedr-el-Budur and the Wicked Magician. [Page 148]