While the caliph and Zobeide were disputing so earnestly, and with so much heat, Abon Hassan, who foresaw their difference, was very attentive to whatever might happen. As soon as he perceived Mesrour through a window, over against which he sat, talking with his wife, and observed that he was coming directly to their apartment, he presently guessed what he was coming about, and bade his wife make haste to act the dead part once more, as they had agreed on; and, in short, they were so pinched for time, that Abon Hassan had much ado to wrap up his wife, and lay the piece of brocade upon her, before Mesrour came. As soon as he had done that, he opened the door of his apartment, and with a melancholy dejected countenance, and his handkerchief before his eyes, went and sat down at the head of the pretended deceased.
By that time he was seated Mesrour came into the room. The dismal sight that saluted his eyes gave him a secret joy, on account of the errand the caliph sent him on. As soon as Abon Hassan perceived him, he rose up to meet him, and kissing his hand out of respect, said, sighing and groaning, You see me, sir, in the greatest affliction that ever could befall me; the death of my wife Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, whom you honoured with your favours.
Mesrour, softened by this discourse, could not refuse some tears to the memory of the deceased. He lifted up the pall a little at the head, which was uncovered, and peeping under it, let it down again, and said, with a deep sigh, There is no other god but God; we must all submit to his will, and return to him. Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, my good sister, added he, thy days have been very few: God have mercy on thee. Then turning to Abon Hassan, who was all the time in tears, We may well say, said he, that women sometimes have whims, and lose their senses; for Zobeide will maintain to the caliph, that you are dead, and not your wife; and whatever the caliph can say to the contrary, he cannot persuade her otherwise. He called me to witness the truth of what he affirms; for you know I was by when you came and told him the sorrowful news: but all signifies nothing; they are both positive; and the caliph, to convince Zobeide, has sent me to know the truth; but I fear I shall not be believed; for when women once take a thing, they are not to be beat out of it.
God keep the commander of the faithful in the right use of his senses, replied Abon Hassan, still sighing and crying; you see how it is, and that I have not imposed upon his majesty; and I wish to heaven, continued he, to dissemble the better, that I had no occasion to tell him the melancholy and afflicting news. Alas! I cannot enough express my irreparable loss. That is true, replied Mesrour; and I can assure you, I have a great share in your affliction; but you must comfort, and not abandon yourself to your grief. I leave you against my will, to return to the caliph; but I beg the favour of you not to bury the corpse until I come again, for I will assist at the interment.
Abon Hassan waited on him to the door, and told him that he did not deserve the honour that he did him; and for fear Mesrour should return to say something else to him, he followed him with his eyes for some time, and then returned to his wife, and unloosed her. This is already, said he, a new scene of mirth; but I fancy it will not be the last; for certainly the princess Zobeide will not believe Mesrour, but laugh at him, since she has too substantial a reason to the contrary; therefore we must expect some new event. Whilst Abon Hassan and Nouz-hatoul-aonadat were talking thus, she had time enough to put on her clothes again; and both went and sat down on a sofa, opposite to the window, where they could see all that passed.
In the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide’s apartment, and going into her closet laughing, clapped his hands, like one who had something very agreeable to tell.
The caliph, who was naturally impatient, would presently be informed of the truth of the matter; for he was piqued a little at the princess’s diffidence: therefore, as soon as he saw Mesrour, Vile slave, said he, is this a time to laugh? Why do you not tell me which is dead, the wife or the husband?
Commander of the Faithful, answered Mesrour, putting on a serious countenance, it is Nouz-hatoul-aonadat who is dead; for the loss of whom Abon Hassan is as much afflicted as when he appeared before your majesty. The caliph, not giving him time to pursue his story, interrupted him, and cried out, laughing heartily, Good news; Zobeide was a moment ago mistress of the palace of paintings, which she staked against my garden of pleasures, since you went, and now it is mine; therefore thou couldst not have done me a greater pleasure: but give me a true account of what thou sawest.
Commander of the Faithful, said Mesrour, when I came to Abon Hassan’s apartments, I found the door open, and he bewailing the death of his wife Nouz-hatoul-aonadat. He was seated at the head of the deceased, who was laid out in the middle of the room, with her feet towards Mecca, and was covered with that piece of brocade which your majesty made a present of to Abon Hassan. After I had expressed the share I had in his grief, I went and lifted up the pall at the head, and knew Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, though her face was very much swelled. I exhorted Abon Hassan the best I could to comfort himself; and when I came away, I told him I would attend at his wife’s funeral, and desired him not to stir the corpse till I came. This is all I can tell your majesty. I ask no more, said the caliph, laughing heartily; and I am very well satisfied with thy exactness. Then addressing himself to Zobeide, Well, madam, said he, have you yet any thing to say against so certain a truth? Will you always believe that Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is alive, and that Abon Hassan is dead? And will you not own that you have lost your wager?
How, sir, replied Zobeide, who would not believe one word Mesrour said, do you think that I regard that impertinent slave, who knows not what he says? I am not so blind or mad. With these eyes I saw Nouz-hatoul-aonadat in the greatest affliction: I spoke to her myself, and she told me that her husband was dead.