The nurse, who wanted not to reply, said, Hold thy tongue, black face; thou dotest thyself.
Zobeide, who was very much provoked at Mesrour, could not bear to hear him attack her nurse again without taking her part. Vile slave, said she, say what thou wilt, I maintain my nurse is in the right, and look upon thee as a liar. Madam, replied Mesrour, if the nurse is so very certain that Nouz-hatoul-aonadat is alive, and Abon Hassan is dead, I will lay her what she dare of it. The nurse was as ready as he; and, in short, they laid a piece of gold and silver stuff.
The apartment the caliph and Zobeide came out of, though it was a great way from Abon Hassan’s, was nevertheless just over against it, and Abon Hassan could perceive them coming, and told his wife, that the caliph and Zobeide, preceded by Mesrour, and followed by a great number of women, were coming to do them the honour of a visit. At this news she seemed frightened, and cried out, What shall we do? we are ruined! Fear nothing, replied Abon Hassan: What! have you forgot what we agreed on? We will both be dead, and you shall see all will go well. At the slow rate they come, we shall be ready before that time they get to the door. Accordingly Abon Hassan and his wife wrapped up and covered themselves with the piece of brocade, and waited patiently for their visitors.
Mesrour, who came first, opened the door, and the caliph and Zobeide, followed by their attendants, entered the room; but were extremely surprised, and stood motionless, at the dismal sight which saluted their eyes. At last, Zobeide breaking silence, said to the caliph, Alas! they are both dead! You have done finely, continued she, looking at the caliph and Mesrour, to endeavour to make me believe that my slave was dead; and I find it true at last: it is dangerous jesting with edge-tools: the grief of losing her husband has certainly killed her. Say rather, madam, answered the caliph, prepossessed to the contrary, that Nouz-hatoul-aonadat died first, and the afflicted Abon Hassan could not survive his dear wife: therefore you ought to agree that you have lost your wager, and your palace of paintings is mine.
Hold there, answered Zobeide, animated with the same spirit of contradiction; I will maintain it, you have lost your garden of pleasures to me. Abon Hassan died first; since my nurse told you, as well as me, that she saw her alive, and crying for the death of her husband.
The dispute of the caliph and Zobeide brought on another between Mesrour and the nurse, who had wagered as well as they; and each pretended to win, and came at last to abuse each other very grossly.
After all, the caliph reflecting on what had passed, began to think that Zobeide had as much reason as himself to maintain that she had won. In the embarrassment he was, of not being able to find out the truth, he advanced towards the two corpses, and sat himself down at the head, searching after something that might gain him the victory over Zobeide. Well, cried he, presently after, I swear, by the holy name of God, that I will give a thousand pieces of gold to him that can tell me which of these two died first.
No sooner were these words out of the caliph’s mouth, but he heard a voice under Abon Hassan’s pall, say, Commander of the Faithful, I died first, give me the thousand pieces of gold. At the same time he saw Abon Hassan throw off the piece of brocade, and come and prostrate himself at his feet, while his wife did the same to Zobeide, keeping on her pall of brocade, out of decency. The princess at first shrieked out, and frightened all about her; but recovering herself at last, expressed a great joy to see her slave rise again alive. Ah! wicked Nouz-hatoul-aonadat, cried she, what affliction have I been in for thy sake! However, I forgive thee from my heart, and am glad to see thee well.
The caliph, for his part, was not so much surprised when he heard Abon Hassan’s voice; but thought he should have died away with laughing at this unravelling of the mystery, and to hear Abon Hassan ask so seriously for the thousand pieces of gold. What, Abon Hassan, said he, hast thou conspired against my life, to kill me a second time with laughing? How came this thought into your head, to surprise Zobeide and me thus, when we least thought on such a trick?
Commander of the Faithful, replied Abon Hassan, I will declare to your majesty the whole truth, without the least reserve. Your majesty knows very well, that I always loved to eat and drink well; and the wife you gave me rather increased than restrained that inclination. With these dispositions, your majesty may easily suppose we might spend a good estate; and, to make short of my story, we were not the least sparing of what your majesty so generously gave us. This morning, accounting with our caterer, who took care to provide every thing for us, and paying what we owed him, we found we had nothing left. Then reflections of what was past, and resolutions to manage better for the future, crowded into our thoughts apace, and after them a thousand projects, all which we refused. At last, the shame of being reduced to so low a condition, and not daring to tell your majesty, made us contrive this trick to relieve our necessities, and to divert your majesty, hoping that you would be pleased to pardon us.