Having said this, Bohetzad, inflamed with rage, ordered the chief of his eunuchs to shut up the minister in prison. The monarch, agitated with the most violent and opposite passions, spent the night without closing his eyes. At daybreak he called to him the first of his Viziers, who had not, for a long time, been admitted into his presence. He told him of the insult which he supposed he had received.
At this recital the Vizier concealed his secret joy. Envy, hatred, and revenge were about to triumph. It was no feeble victim which was offered: it was a most powerful rival whom he had to crush. The old courtier recollected himself. He endeavoured still further to exasperate his Sovereign, and determine him to take distinguished vengeance; and with a humble air he spoke as follows:
"Sire, your faithful subjects were astonished when they saw your confidence bestowed upon an avowed son of a chief of the robbers. It would have been too great an instance of your Majesty's goodness to have admitted the branch of so corrupt a stock near your sacred person. You could expect nothing from him but treachery and crimes."
At this speech of the Vizier, the eyes of the monarch sparkled with rage. Immediately he ordered the young man to be brought before him, loaded with chains.
"Wretch!" said he, as soon as he saw him, "recollect the excess of my favours, and of your ingratitude! Let the recollection of these, and your remorse, be to you the preludes of the punishment that awaits you! Your head is soon to fall upon the scaffold."
The fury and threatening of the King could not change the countenance of the innocent and unfortunate Aladin. No trouble altered the beauty of his features: he preserved that sweet, modest, and firm air which had hitherto gained him the goodwill of the monarch. He began to speak, and ingenuous candour flowed from his lips.
"Sire, my fault was an involuntary one. If an indiscretion on my part reduced me to a situation in which, during some time, I was deprived of the use of reason, so that it was no longer my guide, and allowed me to fall into a very gross mistake, the rest was the work of the cruelty of fate. My heart, overcome by your favours, and entirely devoted to your Majesty, has hitherto felt no pleasure but in the happiness of serving you. But, alas! what avail the best intentions, and all the exertions of zeal, if a superior law, ruling our destiny, can put a different appearance on the purity of the motives by which we are influenced?—if a single action of our life, and that, too, done from the momentary disorder of our senses, can expose us to the apparent guilt of a crime, although all our inclinations are virtuous? Hurried from the summit of happiness into the horrors of disgrace, I must submit to the decree which inflicts the blow, like the merchant, whose memorable story is known even in your Majesty's palace."
"What merchant do you mean?" said the King. "What connection has his story with thy crime? I allow you to relate it."
THE HISTORY OF KASKAS, OR THE UNLUCKY MAN.
Sire, there lived at Bagdad a very wealthy merchant, whose manners and knowledge rendered him worthy of public confidence. His name was Kaskas. Fortune had hitherto seconded his labours so well, that he could boast of success in all his enterprises; but fate soon declared against him. He could now no longer send a commission, or receive a return, without being obliged to make considerable sacrifices. He determined at length to change the nature of his commerce. He sold his stock, and laid out one-half of the money in buying grain, in hopes that this article would rise in its price during the winter. Circumstances, however, were against his speculation, for grain fell in its value. To avoid this loss, he locked up his granaries, determined to wait for a more favourable opportunity. In the meantime, one of his friends having come on a visit to him, wished to persuade him to give up this new kind of commerce in which he was engaged; but he did not listen to this advice, and was obstinately determined to keep his grain a third year. Soon after there happened so violent a storm that the streets and houses of Bagdad suffered by an inundation. When the waters were abated, Kaskas went to see if his corn had received any damage; he found it all springing, and beginning to rot. In order to escape the penalty, it cost him five hundred pieces to get thrown into the river that which he had heaped up in his granaries at a great expense.