All this while the grand vizier was terribly uneasy. Instead of sleeping, he spent the night in sighs and groans, bewailing the lot of his daughter, of whom he believed that he himself should be the executioner: And as, in this melancholy prospect, he was afraid of seeing the sultan, he was agreeably surprised when he saw the prince enter the council-chamber, without giving him the fatal orders he expected.
The sultan, according to his custom, spent the day in regulating his affairs; and when night came, he went to bed with Scheherazade. Next morning, before day, Dinarzade failed not to address herself to her sister thus: My dear sister, if you be not asleep, I pray you, till day-break, which will be in a very little time, to go on with the story you began last night. The sultan, without staying till Scheherazade asked him leave, bid her make an end of the story of the genie and the merchant, for I long to hear the issue of it; upon which Scheherazade spoke, and continued the story as follows.
The Second Night.
When the merchant saw that the genie was going to cut off his head, he cried out aloud, and said to him, For Heaven's sake hold your hand! allow me one word, be so good as to grant me some respite; allow me but time to bid my wife and children adieu, and to divide my estate among them by will, that they may not go to law with one another after my death; and when I have done so, I will come back to the same place, and submit to whatever you shall please to order concerning me. But, says the genie, if I grant you the time you demand, I doubt you will never return. If you will believe my oath, answers the merchant, I swear, by all tnat is sacred, that I will come and meet you here without fail. What time do you demand then, replies the genie? I ask a year, says the merchant; I cannot have less to order my affairs, and prepare myself to die without regret. But I promise you that this day twelve months I will return under these trees, to put myself into your hands. Do you take Heaven to be witness to this promise, says the genie? I do, answers the merchant, and repeat it, and you may rely upon my oath. Upon this the genie left him near the fountain, and disappeared.
The merchant, being recovered from his fright, mounted his horse, and set forward on his journey; and as he was glad, on the one hand, that he had escaped so great a danger, so he was mortally sorry, on the other, when he thought on his fatal oath. When he came home, his wife and children received him with all the demonstrations of perfect joy. But he, instead of making them answerable returns, fell a-weeping bitterly; from whence they readily conjectured that something extraordinary had befallen him. His wife asked the reason of his excessive grief and tears; we are all overjoyed, says she, at your return, but you frighten us to see you in this condition? Pray tell us the cause of your sorrow. Alas! replies the husband, the cause of it is, that I have but a year to live; and then told what had passed betwixt him and the genie, and that he had given his oath to return at the end of the year to receive death from his hands.
When they had heard these sad news, they all began to lament heavily; his wife made a pitiful outcry, beat her face, and tore her hairs. The children, being all in tears, made the house resound with their groans; and the father, not being able to overcome nature, mixed his tears with theirs; so that, in a word, it was the most affecting spectacle that any man could behold.
Next morning, the merchant applied himself to put his affairs in order, and, first of all, to pay his debts. He made presents to his friends, gave great alms to the poor, set his slaves of both sexes at liberty, divided his estate among his children, appointed guardians for such of them as were not come of age; and restoring to his wife all that was due to her by contract of marriage, he gave her, over and above, all that he could do by law.
At last the year expired, and go he must. He put his burial-clothes in his portmanteau; but never was there such grief seen, as when he came to bid his wife and children adieu. They could not think of parting, but resolved to go along and to die with, him; but, finding that he must be forced to part from those dear objects, he spoke to them thus: 'My dear wife and children,' says he, 'I obey the order of Heaven in quitting you; follow my example, submit courageously to this necessity, and consider that it is the destiny of man to die.' Having said these words, he went out of the hearing of the cries of his family; and, taking his journey, arrived at the place, where he promised to meet the genie, on the day appointed. He alighted, and setting himself down by the fountain, waited the coming of the genie with all the sorrow imaginable. Whilst he languished in this cruel expectation, a good old man, leading a bitch, appeared, and drew near him; they saluted one another, after which the old man says to him, Brother, may I ask you why you are come into this desert place, where there is nothing but evil spirits, and by consequence you cannot be safe. To look upon these fine trees, indeed, one would think the place inhabited; but if is a true wilderness where it is not safe to stay long.
The merchant satisfied his curiosity, and told him the adventure which obliged him to be there. The old man listened to him with astonishment, and when he had done, cried out, This is the most surprising thing in the world, and you are bound by the most inviolable oath; however, I will be witness of your interview with the genie; and sitting down by the merchant, they talked together. But I see day, says Scheherazade, and must leave off; but the best of the story is yet to come. The sultan, resolving to hear the end of it, suffered her to live that day also.
The Third Night.