For a while the porter, who, like the three merchants, had come unbidden, but had been made welcome because of his versatility and ready wit in entertaining, kept the company in constant laughter, so that the Khalifeh said to Ja’far, “Verily, O Vizier, we should like this fellow’s head and all it contains. Nay, O Mesrur,” he added, turning to his Executioner, “I want not his head without the rest of him. He shall be my wag.” “O King of the Age,” answered the Grand Vizier, “I hear, and obey.” Meanwhile, the porter continued to amuse them, but at length he became so intoxicated that his efforts to amuse were unsuccessful, whereat the entertainment flagged. “It seems to me,” said the Khalifeh, “that these three ladies are no ordinary persons; perchance they have a history. Ask them to entertain us with their various stories.” Accordingly, the Vizier singled out the eldest and put the question to her. But she liked it not, and, with a clouded brow, led him to the door, on the lintel of which she pointed out an inscription: “Ask not what doth not concern thee, lest thou hear what may not please thee.” Ja’far returned and informed the Khalifeh of this, which only served to increase his curiosity. While he was planning a way with the Vizier to induce them to tell their history, there came a knock at the door. One of the sisters went to open it, and presently returned, saying, “There, are three Dervishes without, each of them clean shaven, and each lacking an eye.”
“Ask them if they were born blind of an eye,” said one of the sisters, “and if they are brothers.” So the lady went and asked them these questions, and returned presently with the answer: “They were not born blind, but each lost his eye through an adventure; neither are they brothers, having met for the first time in this City, where they have lost their way. They are wandering Mendicants or Calenders.”
At this, her sister turned to Ja’far. “Thou didst desire to hear our stories, O my master, but it seemeth that these Dervishes may have stories more interesting to hear. Shall we admit them?” The Khalifeh added his approval to that of Ja’far on this point, and the three Calenders were admitted. And strange looking men they were. Differing widely in feature and expression, they were all alike in the manner of their dress and general appearance. Each had lost one eye; and each had long black moustaches, twisted like silk, and drooping over a clean-shaven chin. Being of the order of mendicants, they bowed humbly, and stood silent. “Tell us how it is,” said the eldest of the sisters, “that you three, being no relation one to another, and each lacking one eye, should be together.” “In that,” said one of the Calenders, “there is no more cause for wonder than that you three women, all unrelated one to another before birth, and all equally beautiful, should find yourselves sisters of one household.”
At this the Khalifeh whispered to Ja’far, “This man’s speech and address are not those of a mendicant. If I mistake not he hath moved in Royal Courts.”
“Yet, O my mistress,” the First Calender continued, “it may be that it was decreed by Destiny that we three, coming from three widely separate kingdoms, should meet in this City, the Abode of Peace, for our conditions appear to be similar. Each of us having lost, not only an eye, but a throne—for know that we are kings, and the sons of kings—has been led hither by the same stars, to kneel at the feet of the Khalifeh Harun-er-Rashid and implore his aid in the restoration of our royal state.”
On hearing this, the Khalifeh looked down his beard, saying within himself, “If they knew, they would kneel and implore here and now. But they know not.” Then a stratagem within a stratagem got hold of him, and he arose and bowed low to the three ladies.
“O my mistresses,” he said, “whose beauty is unequalled, save by that of each to each, I crave your permission. It seems there is an entertainment in this matter. Here we have Three Royal Calenders suppliant to the Khalifeh—on whom be peace! Now, it will be good for them to rehearse their parts for our amusement; for so, when at last they gain audience of the Khalifeh, they will be well versed. Grant me then the privilege, O fair ones, to play the part of the Khalifeh, for I am not unskilled in the art of such play. Indeed, I have appeared before the Khalifeh himself—(”In a mirror,“ assented Ja’far, in thought),—and he was greatly@ pleased with my impersonation and my appearance.”
“Verily,” said one of the sisters, in approval, “thou art a kingly man, and thou wilt play the part well. What say you, O my sisters?” she added, turning to the other two. They agreed, laughing, and clapping their hands, for they liked the idea of real suppliants rehearsing to a stage Khalifeh.