'Perfidious wretch,' said the genie to her; pointing at me, 'who is this?'
She cast her languishing eyes upon me, and answered mournfully, 'I do not know him; I never saw him till this moment.'
'What!' said the genie, 'he is the cause of thy being in the condition thou art justly in, and yet darest thou say thou dost not know him?'
'If I do not know him,' said the princess, 'would you have me tell a lie on purpose to ruin him?'
'Oh then,' continued the genie, pulling out a scimitar, and presenting it to the princess, 'if you never saw him before, take the scimitar and cut off his head.'
'Alas!' replied the princess, 'my strength is so far spent that I cannot lift up my arm, and if I could, how should I have the heart to take away the life of an innocent man?'
'This refusal,' said the genie to the princess, 'sufficiently informs me of your crime.' Upon which, turning to me, 'And thou,' said he, 'dost thou not know her?'
I should have been the most ungrateful wretch, and the most perfidious of all mankind, if I had not shown myself as faithful to the princess as she was to me who had been the cause of her misfortunes; therefore I answered the genie, 'How should I know her?'
'If it be so,' said he, 'take the scimitar and cut off her head: on this condition I will set thee at liberty, for then I shall be convinced that thou didst never see her till this very moment, as thou sayest.'
'With all my heart,' replied I, and took the scimitar in my hand.