“The king of Serendid is so just, that there are no judges in his capital, nor in any other part of his dominions; his people do not want any. They know and observe with exactness the true principles of justice, and never deviate from their duty; therefore tribunals and magistrates would be useless amongst them.” The caliph was satisfied with my discourse, and said, “The wisdom of this king appears in his letter; and after what you have told me I must confess that such wisdom is worthy of such subjects, and such subjects worthy of it.” At these words he dismissed me with a rich present.
Sindbad here finished his discourse, and his visitors retired; but Hindbad, as usual, received his hundred sequins. They returned the following day, and Sindbad began the relation of his seventh and last Voyage in these terms:
THE SEVENTH AND LAST VOYAGE OF SINDBAD, THE SAILOR.
On my return from my sixth voyage, I absolutely relinquished all thoughts of ever venturing again on the seas. I was now arrived at an age which required rest, and besides this I had sworn never more to expose myself to the perils I had so often experienced: I prepared therefore to enjoy my life in quiet and repose.
One day, when I was regaling a number of friends, one of my servants came to tell me, that an officer of the caliph wanted to speak to me. I got up from table, and went to him. “The caliph,” said he, “has ordered me to acquaint you that he wishes to see you.” I followed the officer to the palace, and he presented me to the prince, whom I saluted, by prostrating myself at his feet. “Sindbad,” said he, “I am in want of you; you must do me a service; and go once more to the king of Serendid with my answer and presents; it is but right that I should make him a proper return for the civility he has shown me.”
This order of the caliph was a thunderbolt to me. “Commander of the Faithful,” replied I, “I am ready to execute any thing that your majesty may desire; but I humbly entreat you to consider, that I am worn down with the unspeakable fatigues I have undergone; I have even made a vow never to leave Bagdad.” I then took occasion to recount the long detail of my adventures, which he had the patience to listen to attentively. When I had done speaking, “I confess,” said he, “that these are extraordinary adventures: nevertheless, they must not prevent your making the voyage I propose, for my sake; it is only to the island of Serendid; execute the commission I intrust you with, and then you will be at liberty to return. But you must go; for you must be sensible, that it would be highly indecorous, as well as derogatory to my dignity, to be under obligations to the king of that island.”
As I plainly saw, that the caliph had resolved on my going, I signified to him, that I was ready to obey his commands. He seemed much pleased, and ordered me a thousand sequins to pay the expences of the voyage.
In a few days I was prepared for my departure; and as soon as I had received the presents of the caliph, together with a letter, written with his own hand, I set off, and took the rout of Balsora, from whence I embarked. After a pleasant voyage, I arrived at the island of Serendid. I immediately acquainted the ministers with the commission I was come upon, and begged them to procure me an audience as soon as possible. They did not fail to attend to my wishes, and conducted me to the palace. I saluted the king by prostrating myself according to the usual custom.
This prince immediately recollected me, and evinced great joy at my return. “Welcome, Sindbad,” said he, “I assure you I have often thought of you since your departure. Blessed be this day in which I see you again.” I returned the compliment, and after thanking him for his kindness, I delivered the letter and present of the caliph, which he received with every mark of satisfaction and pleasure.
The caliph sent him a complete bed of gold tissue, estimated at a thousand sequins; fifty robes of a very rich stuff, an hundred more of white linen, the finest that could be procured from Cairo, Suez, Cufa, and Alexandria; another bed of crimson, also another of a different make. A vase of agate, greater in width than in depth, of the thickness of a finger; on the sides there was sculptured in bas-relief, a man, kneeling on the ground, and in his hand a bow and arrow, with which he was going to let fly at a lion: besides these he sent him a richly ornamented table, which was supposed from tradition to have belonged to the great Solomon. The letter of the caliph was written in these terms: