By the time the neighbours came in, Abon Hassan’s rage began to abate. The first who entered the room got between him and his mother; and taking the cane out of his hand, said to him, What are you doing, Abon Hassan? Have you no fear of God, nor reason? Did ever a son, so well brought up as you, ever dare to strike his mother? Are you not ashamed to treat yours so, who loves you so tenderly? Abon Hassan looked at him that spoke, without returning an answer; and then staring on all that followed him, said, Who is that Abon Hassan you speak of? Is it me you call by that name?
This question put the neighbours a little to a stand. How! said he that spoke first, do not you know your mother, who brought you up, and with whom you have always lived? Be gone, you are impertinent people, replied Abon Hassan; I neither know her nor you, and will not know you; I am not Abon Hassan; but will make you know, to your cost, I am the commander of the faithful.
At this discourse, the neighbours no longer doubted but that he was mad; and to prevent his being guilty of the like actions, seized him, notwithstanding his resistance, and bound him hand and foot, while one in the mean time ran for the keeper of the hospital for mad folks, who came presently with a bull’s pizzle, chains, and handcuffs, and a great many attendants. When they entered the room, Abon Hassan, who little expected such treatment, endeavoured all he could to unloose himself; but after the keeper had given him two or three smart strokes upon his shoulders with the bull’s pizzle, he lay so quiet, that the keeper and his people might do what they would with him; who as soon as they had bound and manacled him, took him with them to the hospital; where, before the keeper put him into a room, he regaled him with fifty strokes of the bull’s pizzle on his shoulders, which he repeated every day without pity for three weeks, bidding him to remember that he was not the commander of the faithful.
Abon Hassan’s mother went every day to see her son, and could not forbear crying to see him fall away daily, and to hear him sigh and complain at the hardships he endured. In short, his shoulders, back, and sides were so black and blue and bruized, that he could not turn himself. His mother would willingly have talked with him, to comfort him, and to sound him whether he still retained the notion of being caliph; but whenever she opened her mouth, he rebuked her with so much fury, that she was forced to leave him, and return home disconsolate at his obstinacy.
At last those strong and lively ideas which Abon Hassan entertained of being clothed in the caliph’s habit, and having used all his authority, and being obeyed very punctually, and treated like the true caliph, and which persuaded him when he waked that he was so, all began to be insensibly effaced. Sometimes he would say to himself, If I was the caliph, and commander of the believers, how came I home dressed in my own apparel? Why should I not have been attended by eunuchs and ladies? Why should my grand Vizier Giafar, and all those emirs and governors of provinces, who prostrated themselves at my feet, forsake me? Undoubtedly if I had any authority over them, they would have delivered me all this time out of this miserable condition I am in: certainly I ought to look upon all this as a dream. It is true, I commanded the judge of the police to punish the iman and four old men his companions: I ordered Giafar the grand vizier to carry my mother a thousand pieces of gold: and all my commands were executed. All these things are obstacles to my believing it a dream; but yet there are so many things that I cannot comprehend, nor ever shall, that I will put my trust in God, who knows all things.
Abon Hassan was taken up with these thoughts and sentiments, when his mother came to see him, who found him so much altered and changed from what he had been, that she let fall a torrent of tears; in the midst of which she saluted him as she used to do, and he returned her salute, which he had never done before while he had been in the hospital. This civility she looked upon to be a good sign. Well, son, said she, how do you do, and how do you find yourself? Have you renounced all those whims and fancies which some cursed demon had put into your head? Indeed, mother, replied Abon Hassan, very rationally and calmly, I acknowledge my error, and beg of you to forgive the execrable crime which I have been guilty of towards you, and which I detest. I ask pardon also of my neighbours whom I have abused. I have been deceived by a dream; but by so extraordinary a one, and so like to truth, that any other person, to whom such a thing might have happened, would have been guilty of as great extravagances: and I am at this instant so much perplexed about it, that I can hardly persuade myself but that it was matter of fact. But whatever it was, I do and always will look upon it as a dream and illusion. I am convinced that I am not that shadow of a caliph and commander of the faithful, but Abon Hassan, your son; and shall never forget that fatal day which covered me with shame and confusion; but honour and respect you all my life as I ought.
At these sensible words, the mother of Abon Hassan changed the tears of her sorrow and affliction into those of joy, to find her son so well recovered. My dear child, said she, transported with pleasure, my satisfaction and comfort is inexpressible, to hear you talk so reasonably, and gives me as much joy as if I had brought you into the world a second time. But I must observe one thing in this adventure, which you may not have taken notice of: the stranger that you brought home one night to sup with you, went away without shutting the chamber-door after him as you desired him; which I believe gave some demon an opportunity to enter, and put you into that horrible illusion you were in: and therefore, my son, you ought to return God thanks for your deliverance, and beseech him to keep you out of the snares of the evil spirit.
You have found out the source of my misfortunes, answered Abon Hassan; it was that very night I had this dream, which turned my brain. I bade the merchant expressly to shut the door after him; and now I find he did not do it. I am persuaded, as well as you, some devil came in, and filled my head full of these fancies. For they at Moussel are not so well convinced that the devil is the cause of troublesome dreams, as we are at Bagdad. But since, mother, you see I am so well recovered, for God’s sake get me out of this hellish place. The mother, glad to find her son so well cured of his foolish imagination of being caliph, went immediately to the keeper, and assuring him that he was very sensible and well, he came and examined him, and afterwards gave him his liberty.
When Abon Hassan came home, he staid within doors some days, to comfort himself by better food and nourishment than what he had at the hospital. But when he had recovered his strength, and refreshed himself after his harsh treatment, he began to be weary with spending his evenings alone, and so entered again upon the same way of living as before; which was to provide enough every day to regale a stranger at night.
The day on which Abon Hassan renewed this custom, happened to be the first day of the month, which was the day that the caliph always sets apart to go disguised through the town, to observe what irregularities were committed in the government of the city. Towards the evening he went to the bridge, and set himself on a bench which was fixed to the parapet; where, looking about him, he perceived the caliph disguised again like a Moussel merchant, and followed by the same slave: and, persuaded that all his misfortunes were owing to the caliph’s leaving his door open, whom he took for a merchant, he swooned at the sight of him. God preserve me, said he to himself; if I am not deceived, there is the magician again that enchanted me! and thereupon got up, and looked over the parapet into the river, that he might not see him.