Whilst they were unlading the other camels, he took aside the mother of Bedreddin Hassan and his daughter, and addressing the latter, “God be praised,” said he, “my dear daughter, that we have so happily met with your cousin and husband. I dare say you recollect the state in which your chamber was on the night of your nuptials. Go, and have every thing placed as it was then. If by chance you do not remember it, I can supply the defect in your memory, by the description I wrote at the time. On my part, I will go and give orders for the rest.”
The Queen of Beauty went with joy to execute the commands of her father, who began to place all the things in the hall in the same way as they were when Bedreddin Hassan was there with the hunchback groom of the sultan of Egypt. As he read the writing, his servants put each piece of furniture in its place. The throne was not forgotten, nor the lighted flambeaux. When every thing was prepared in the hall, the vizier entered the chamber of his daughter, where he placed the dress of Bedreddin, together with the purse of sequins. This being done, he said to the Queen of Beauty, “Undress yourself, my daughter, and go to bed; and when Bedreddin comes into this chamber, begin to complain of his having been out too long a time, and tell him, that you were much surprised when you awoke, not to find him by your side. Press him to return to bed, and to-morrow morning you will entertain your mother-in-law and me with the account of what passed in the night.” At these words he went out of his daughter’s chamber, and left her to retire to bed.
Schemseddin commanded all the servants to go out of the hall, excepting only two or three whom he wished to remain, and gave directions for them to take Bedreddin out of the case, to put him on a shirt and drawers, and in that state to bring him into the hall, where they were to leave him alone, and shut the door. Bedreddin Hassan, although in so unhappy a condition, had fallen so sound asleep, that the servants of the vizier took him out of the case, and put on his shirt and drawers, without waking him; and then carried him so quickly into the hall, that they did not give him time to recollect himself. When he found himself alone in the hall, he looked around him, and the things he saw reminding him of his marriage, he perceived with astonishment, on a closer inspection, that this was the same hall in which he had seen the hunchback groom. His surprise increased, when drawing near to the door of a chamber, which he found open, he saw his clothes in the same spot where he remembered to have placed them on the night of his nuptials. “Great God,” said he, rubbing his eyes, “am I asleep or awake?”
The Queen of Beauty, who watched him, after entertaining herself with his astonishment, undrew the curtains of the bed, and advancing her head, said in a tender voice, “My lord, what are you doing at the door? Come, and lie down again. You have been out of the room a long time: I was much surprised, when I awoke, not to find you by my side.” Bedreddin’s countenance changed, when he perceived that the lady, who spoke to him, was the same charming person with whom he remembered to have slept. He went into the chamber, but instead of going to bed, as his mind was full of the thoughts of what had passed during the last ten years, and he could not persuade himself that so many events had taken place in only one night, he approached the chair, where his clothes and purse of sequins were, and having examined them with great attention, “By the great living God!” cried he, “these are things which I cannot comprehend.” The lady, who was diverted with his embarrassment, said to him, “Once more, my dear lord, let me beg you to come to bed; what engages your attention?” At these words, he advanced towards the Queen of Beauty, “I entreat you, madam,” said he, “to acquaint me, if it is long since I was with you.”—“The question surprises me,” replied she, “did you not just now rise from my side? Your mind must be strangely absent.”—“Madam,” resumed Bedreddin, “my spirits certainly are not very composed. I remember to have been with you, it is true; but I also remember to have lived ten years at Damascus. If I have really slept with you this night, I cannot have been absent so long.”—“Yes, my lord,” replied the Queen of Beauty, “you have no doubt dreamt that you were at Damascus.”—“Nothing can be so ridiculous,” cried Bedreddin, bursting into a laugh, “I assure you, madam, that this dream will appear to you very laughable. Imagine, if you please, that I found myself at the gates of Damascus in my shirt and drawers, just as I am at this moment; that I entered the city amidst the shouts and hisses of the populace, who followed to insult me; that I took refuge with a pastry-cook, who adopted me, taught me his business, and left me all his property when he died; that after his death, I kept his shop. In short, madam, an infinity of adventures befel me, which would be too tedious to relate; all I can say is, that I did well to awake, otherwise I should have been nailed to a stake.”—“And why, pray,” said the Queen of Beauty, pretending surprise, “were you to suffer so cruelly? You must have committed some heinous crime.”—“No, indeed,” replied Bedreddin, “it was for the most comical and ridiculous thing you can conceive. My only crime was the having sold a cheesecake in which I had not put any pepper.”—“I must confess,” said the lady, laughing heartily, “that you were treated very unjustly.”—“Oh, madam,” resumed he, “this was not all; on account of this cursed cheesecake, in which I was accused of not having put any pepper, they had broken and destroyed every thing in my shop; they had bound me with cords, and shut me up in a case, where I was so closely confined, that I feel still as if I were in it. At last, they had sent for a carpenter, and ordered him to prepare a stake to fasten me to. But God be praised, that all this is only an effect of sleep.”
Bedreddin did not pass the night very quietly; he awoke from time to time, and asked himself, whether he was dreaming or awake. He doubted his good fortune, and wishing to ascertain the truth, he undrew the curtains, and cast his eyes over the room. ”I am not deceived;” said he, ”this is the same chamber into which I came instead of the hunchback, and slept with the beautiful lady who was destined for him.” Day-light, which now began to appear, had not removed his uneasiness, when the vizier, Schemseddin Mohammed, his uncle, knocked at the door, and entered at the same moment to wish him good day. Bedreddin Hassan was extremely surprised to see a man he was so well acquainted with appear immediately after, but he no longer bore the appearance of the terrible judge, who had pronounced the decree of his death. “Ah!” cried he, “it is you who have treated me so cruelly, and condemned me to a death, the thoughts of which still fill me with horror, for having made a cheesecake without putting pepper in it.” The vizier began to laugh; and, to dispel his fears, related how, by the interference of a Genius, (for the account he had received from the hunchback made him suspect the truth) he had been conveyed to his house, and had married his daughter, instead of the groom belonging to the sultan. He then acquainted him, that it was by means of the packet, written by Noureddin Ali, that he had discovered him to be his nephew; and at last told him, that it was in consequence of this discovery, that he left Cairo, and had gone to Balsora in search of him. “My dear nephew,” added he, embracing him with the greatest tenderness, “I beg your pardon for all I have made you suffer since I have discovered you. I wished to reconduct you here before I acquainted you with your good fortune, which you must find so much the more pleasant as it has cost you more pain. Console yourself for all your afflictions, with the joy you must experience at being again with persons who are the most dear to you. Whilst you dress yourself, I will go and acquaint the lady, your mother, who is all impatience to embrace you; and I will bring you your son, whom you saw at Damascus, and towards whom you felt so much affection without knowing him.
No words are sufficiently expressive to give any idea of the joy of Bedreddin, when he saw his mother and his son Agib. These three persons did not cease embracing each other, and evincing all the transports which nature and the tenderest affection can inspire. The mother said the most affecting things to Bedreddin; she related to him the sorrow which so long an absence had created, and the tears she had shed on his account. The little Agib, instead of avoiding the embraces of his father, as he had done at Damascus, flew to receive them; and Bedreddin Hassan, divided between two objects so worthy of his love, thought he could not lavish on them sufficient proofs of his affection.
Whilst these things were passing in the house of Schemseddin Mohammed, the vizier himself was gone to the palace, to give the sultan an account of the happy success of his journey. The sultan was so delighted with the relation of this wonderful history, that he ordered it to be written and carefully preserved amongst the archives of his kingdom. As soon as Schemseddin Mohammed returned home, as he had prepared a superb entertainment, he sat down to table with all his family, and his whole household passed the day in great festivity and rejoicings.
The vizier Giafar having concluded the history of Bedreddin Hassan, said to the caliph, Haroun Alraschid, “Commander of the Faithful, this is what I had to relate to your majesty.” The caliph thought this history so surprising, that he did not hesitate to grant his pardon to the slave Rihan: and to console the young man for having so unhappily deprived himself of a wife he tenderly loved, this prince married him to one of his slaves, loaded him with gifts, and continued to bestow his favours upon him as long as he lived.
“But, Sire,” added Scheherazadè, “however entertaining the history I have related may have been, I know another, which is far more so: if your majesty wishes to hear it to-morrow night, I am sure you will think so too.” Schahriar arose without making any reply, and very uncertain what he should do.
“This good sultana,” said he to himself, “relates very long stories, and when she has once begun one, there is no possibility of refusing to hear the whole of it. I do not know, whether I ought not to order her death to-day; yet no; I will not do any thing precipitately; the story she promises me is, perhaps, the most diverting of any I have yet heard, and I must not deprive myself of the pleasure of hearing it; after she has finished it, I will give orders for her execution.”