When he was arrived in the presence of the sovereign, he kissed the ground seven times, and then spoke in these terms: Commander of the Faithful, I bring to you this old man, and this youth, who each avers himself to be the murderer of the lady.” The caliph then asked the accused, which of the two had murdered the lady in so cruel a manner, and then thrown her into the Tigris. The youth assured him, that he had committed the deed; the old man sustained the contrary. “Go,” said the caliph to the vizier, “give orders for them both to be hanged.”—“But, sire,” replied the vizier, “if one only is criminal, it would be unjust to execute the other.”
At these words the young man replied, “I swear by the great God, who has elevated the heavens to where they now are, that it is I who killed the lady, who cut her in pieces, and then threw her into the Tigris four days since. I do not hope for mercy on the day of judgment, if what I say be not true; therefore, I am the person who is to be punished.” The caliph was surprised at this solemn oath, which he was inclined to believe, as the old man made no reply. Therefore, turning to the youth, “Unhappy wretch,” cried he, “for what reason hast thou committed this detestable crime? and what motive canst thou have for coming to offer thyself for execution!” “Commander of the Faithful,” returned he, “if all that has passed between this lady and myself could be written, it would form a history, which might be serviceable to mankind.”—“Relate it then,” replied the caliph, “I command you to do it.” The young man obeyed, and began in these words.
THE HISTORY
OF THE LADY WHO WAS MURDERED, AND OF THE YOUNG MAN, HER HUSBAND.
“Sovereign of the Believers, I must acquaint your majesty, that the lady who was massacred was my wife, and daughter to this old man whom you see, and who is my uncle, on my father’s side. She was only twelve years of age when he bestowed her on me in marriage, and eleven years are passed since that period. I have three sons by her, who are still alive; and must do her the justice to say, that she never gave me the least subject for displeasure. She was prudent and virtuous; and her greatest pleasure consisted in making me happy. On my part I loved her with the truest affection, and anticipated all her wishes, instead of opposing them.
About two months since she was taken ill; I treated her with all possible care, and spared no pains to complete her cure: at the expiration of a month she grew better, and wished to go to the bath. Before she went out of the house she said to me, “Cousin,” for that was my familiar appellation, “I wish to eat some apples; you will oblige me very much, if you could procure me some; it is a long time that I have had this desire, and I must confess, that it is now increased to such a degree, that if I am not gratified I fear some misfortune will be the consequence.”—“Very willingly,” I replied, “I will do all in my power to content you.”
I immediately went in search of some apples, into all the markets and shops I could think of, but I could not obtain one, although I had offered to pay a sequin for it. I returned home much vexed at having taken so much trouble to no purpose. As for my wife, when she came back from the bath, and did not see any apples, she was so chagrined, that she could not sleep all night. I arose early the next morning, and went into all the gardens, but with no better success than on the preceding day. I only met with an old gardener, who told me, that whatever pains I might take I should not meet with any excepting in your majesty’s gardens at Balsora.
As I was passionately fond of my wife, and I would not have to reproach myself with having neglected any means of satisfying her longing, I put on the dress of a traveller, and having informed her of my intention, I set out for Balsora. I went with such dispatch, that I returned to her at the end of a fortnight. I brought with me three apples, which had cost me a sequin a piece. There were no more in the garden, and the gardener would not sell them at a lower price. When I arrived I presented them to my wife, but her longing was then over, so she received them, and only placed them by her side. She nevertheless continued in ill health, and I did not know what remedy to apply for her disorder.
A few days after my return, being in my shop, at the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold, I saw a tall black slave enter, holding an apple in his hand, which I knew to be one of those I had brought from Balsora. I could have no doubts on the subject, for I knew that there were none in Bagdad, nor in any of the gardens in the environs. I called the slave, “My good slave,” said I, “pray tell me where you got that apple.”—“It is a present,” replied he, smiling, “that my mistress made me. I have been to see her to-day, and found her unwell. I saw three apples by her side, and asked her where she had got them; and she told me, that her good man of a husband had been a journey of fifteen days on purpose to get them for her. We breakfasted together, and when I came away I brought this with me.”
This intelligence enraged me beyond measure. I got up, and having shut up my shop, I ran home eagerly, and went into the chamber of my wife. I looked for the apples, and seeing but two, I inquired what was become of the third. My wife then turning her head towards the side where the apples were, and perceiving that there were only two, replied coldly, “I do not know what is become of it, cousin.” This answer convinced me of the truth of what the slave had spoken. I suffered myself to be transported by a fit of jealousy, and drawing a knife, which hung from my girdle, I plunged it in the breast of this unhappy woman. I then cut off her head, and divided her body into quarters; I made a packet of it, which I concealed in a folding basket, and after having sewed the opening of the basket with some red worsted, I inclosed it in a chest, and as soon as it was night, carried it on my shoulders to the Tigris, where I threw it in.