Swiftly Nuzhat-el-Fuad obeyed, and, by the time Mesrur reached the house, she was extended ready for burial, while Abu-l-Hasan sat at her head weeping and beating his breast. And Mesrur advanced and uncovered her face, crying “There is no god but Allah! Alas! Our sister Nuzhat-el-Fuad is taken away!” He hastened back to the Palace and told the Khalifeh and Zubeydeh that Abu-l-Hasan was alive and well, and that Nuzhat-el-Fuad was dead. At this the Khalifeh laughed heartily, saying “Now have I won thy Hall of Statues!” Then he bade Mesrur tell the story again, omitting no smallest point; for he said Zubeydeh was lacking in sense and dull of comprehension. This enraged Zubeydeh and she retorted that it was the one who believed the word of a slave like Mesrur who was lacking in sense. But the more angry she became the more the Khalifeh laughed, until she calmed herself and said, “O Prince of the Faithful! this slave here is lying in order to please thee. Now I will send my messenger, and then the truth of the matter will be clear.” The Khalifeh, still laughing, readily consented; and Zubeydeh summoned an old woman and bade her run with all speed to this house of the quick and the dead and learn for a certainty which was prepared for the grave. And the old woman set forth running as fast as her legs would carry her.
Now, when Nuzhat-el-Fuad, seated at the window, saw her drawing near, she said to Abu-l-Hasan, “Methinks the Lady Zubeydeh hath found fault with Mesrur’s report of thy death, and hath sent her messenger to learn the truth. Therefore, to preserve my honour in Zubeydeh’s eyes, is it not proper that thou be dead?”
“That is so,” said Abu-l-Hasan, and he extended himself on the floor, while his wife prepared his corpse for the grave. When the old woman came in she found Nuzhat-el-Fuad sitting at his head, weeping bitterly and tearing her hair. “O my mother!” she wailed, “there was none like him! Alas! I am alone and wretched!” And she fell to moaning and sobbing and rocking herself to and fro in uncontrollable grief.
The old woman comforted her and told her how Mesrur had sought to stir up a quarrel between the Khalifeh and Zubeydeh by a lying report. Nuzhet-el-Fuad, in return, protested that, not long since, she was with the Lady Zubeydeh, who had bestowed upon her a hundred pieces of gold and a piece of fine spun silk, saying, “Go prepare thy husband’s body for the grave!” And in a fresh outburst of grief Nuzhet-el-Fuad cried, “Oh! would that Mesrur’s tale were true! Would that I had died and Abu-l-Hasan had lived, for I am solitary and know not what to do.”
After the two had wept together over the body of Abu-l-Hasan the old woman hastened back to the Palace and told her story to the Lady Zubeydeh, who laughed heartily and bade her tell it to the Khalifeh. On hearing it the Khalifeh paused and pondered, but Mesrur cried, “Thou liest, hag! I myself saw Nuzhet-el-Fuad lying dead and Abu-l-Hasan alive.”
“It is thou that liest!” retorted the old woman, “and thou hast a reason.” And Mesrur would have laid his hands upon her, but Zubeydeh interposed, weeping; whereupon the Khalifeh said, “Nay, nay; it seems we are all liars, and methinks the proper course is that we all go together to the house of Abu-l-Hasan and so see who lieth truly and who lieth falsely.” So all four went forth disputing and laying wager on wager as they went.
Now, Abu-l-Hasan, who had said within himself, “The matter cannot end here,” had seated himself at the window to watch; and, when he saw the four approaching, he turned to his wife and remarked wisely, “O Nuzhet-el-Fuad! Verily, all is not a pancake that is slippery, and the pitcher that goes often to the fountain will one day be broken. Mesrur and the old woman have brewed trouble with their different tales. See! here come the Khalifeh and his messenger, and the Lady Zubeydeh and her messenger; and they are contending and disputing among themselves. Now, to save our reputation for veracity, we must both be dead.”
With great haste they laid themselves out, and, before the babel of contention reached the house, they were lying side by side prepared for burial, and like nothing so much as the silence of the grave. And thus the Khalifeh, and Zubeydeh, and Mesrur, and the old woman, found them when they entered. “Alas!” cried the Lady Zubeydeh, turning to the Khalifeh and Mesrur, “by your repeated tales of her death you have succeeded at last in killing her!” “This is foolish talk,” replied the Khalifeh, while Mesrur and the old woman glared at one another, speechless. “Did not Abu-l-Hasan come to me, plucking his beard and smiting his breast, and saying, ‘Nuzhet-el-Fuad is dead?’ Truly, then, she died first, and he, after we had made our wager, died of grief. I, therefore, have won.” But Zubeydeh replied to this in a torrent of words, saying that Nuzhet-el-Fuad came to her, tearing her hair and calling out in sorrow for the death of Abu-l-Hasan. And as this was before the wager was made she in her turn claimed to have won. A long dispute ensued in which Mesrur and the old woman joined, but neither side could convince the other; and none knew but the two who lay still as death.
At last the Khalifeh, weary of the wrangle, sat himself down at the heads of the two corpses and said hotly, “By Allah! By the tomb of the Prophet! By the graves of all my ancestors! I would give a thousand pieces of gold to any one who could tell me which of these two died before the other.”
No sooner had Abu-l-Hasan heard these words than he, being somewhat quicker in such things than his wife, sprang up crying, “O Prince of the Faithful! it was I who died first. And I have won the thousand pieces according to thine oath.” But, when Nuzhet-el-Fuad sat up before them, and the Lady Zubeydeh saw that they had practised a trick to obtain the gold, she chid her gently, reproaching her for not asking for help; and yet she wept all the time with joy that she was alive. And the Khalifeh—he wept with laughter, and, as soon as he could speak, he cried, “O Abu-l-Hasan, truly thou art a wag!” “Nay, O Prince of the Faithful!” replied Abu-l-Hasan, “I had dispensed the good gifts at thy hands, and, being sore stricken with poverty, could contrive no other way but to play this trick upon thee. When I was alone I used my gold wisely, but since thou hast given me this female slave to wife, all thy wealth would not suffice for our extravagance; wherefore, if my lord make not haste to bestow upon me the thousand pieces of gold according to his oath, I may not take it, and—”