"And your Youngest Brother," the Sultan asked, "where is he?"
"The Youngest? Think no more of him, father, for he is unworthy to be your son. Instead of searching the wide world for the Nightingale Gisar, he settled down in the first city he reached and lived a life of idleness and ease. Some say he became a barber and some say he opened a coffee-house and spent his days chatting with passing travelers. He has not come home with us for no doubt it shames him to know that we have succeeded where he has failed."
The Sultan was grieved to hear this evil report of his Youngest Son, but he was overjoyed to have the Nightingale Gisar. He had the golden cage carried to the mosque and hung beside the fountain in the court.
But imagine his disappointment when the bird refused to sing!
"Let him who found the Nightingale come to the mosque," the Dervish said in his droning sing-song voice, "and then the Nightingale will sing."
The Sultan immediately sent for his two sons. They came but still the bird was silent.
"See now," the Sultan said, "my two sons are here and yet the bird is silent."
But the Dervish would only repeat:
"Let him who found the Nightingale come to the mosque and then the Nightingale will sing."
The next day a youth in rags whom nobody knew entered the mosque to pray and instantly the Nightingale began to sing.