“What!” said the person to whom he addressed himself, “have you never seen or heard talk of her? She is the admiration of the whole town, for her fasting, her austerities, and her exemplary life. Except Mondays and Fridays, she never stirs out of her little cell; and on those days on which she comes into the town, she does an infinite deal of good; for there is not a person who has the headache, but is cured by her laying her hand upon them.”
The magician wanted no further information. He only asked the person in what part of the town this holy woman’s cell was. After he had shewn him it, and he had concluded and determined on the detestable design he had in his head, and that he might know the way again, and be fully informed, he watched all her steps the first day she went out after he had made this inquiry, without losing sight of her till evening, when he saw her re-enter her cell. When he had fully observed the place, he went to one of those houses where they sell a certain hot liquor, and where any person may pass the night, particularly in the great heats, when the people of that country prefer lying on a mat to a bed. About midnight, after the magician had satisfied the master of the house for what little he had called for, he went out, and proceeded directly to the cell of Fatima, the holy woman, the name she was known by throughout the town. He had no difficulty in opening the door, which was only fastened with a latch, and he shut it again after he had got in, without any noise; and when he entered the cell, perceived Fatima by moonlight lying in the air on a sofa, covered only by an old mat, with her head leaning against the wall. He awakened her and clapped a dagger to her breast.
Poor Fatima, opening her eyes, was very much surprised to see a man with a dagger at her breast ready to stab her, and who said to her, “If you cry out, or make the least noise, I will kill you: but get up and do as I bid you.”
Fatima, who had lain down in her clothes, got up trembling with fear. “Do not be so much frightened,” said the magician, “I only want your habit: give it me presently, and take mine.” Accordingly Fatima and he changed clothes. Then he said, “Colour my face as yours is, that I may be like you;” but perceiving that the poor creature could not help trembling, to encourage her, he said, “I tell you again you need not fear anything: I swear by the name of God I will not take away your life.” Fatima lighted her lamp, made him come into the cell, and taking a pencil and dipping it into a certain liquor, rubbed it over his face, and assured him the colour would not change, and that his face was of the same dye as her own: after which she put her own head-dress on his head, with a veil, with which she showed him how to hide his face as he passed through the town. After this, she put a long string of beads about his neck which hung down to the middle of his body, and giving him the stick she used to walk with, in his hand, brought him a looking-glass, and bid him look if he was not as like her as possible. The magician found himself disguised as he wished to be; but he did not keep the oath he so solemnly swore to the good Fatima; but instead of stabbing her, for fear the blood might discover him, he strangled her; and when he found she was dead, threw her body into a cistern just by the cell.
The magician, thus disguised like the holy woman Fatima, spent the remainder of the night in the cell, after he had committed so horrid a murder. The next morning, two hours after sunrise, though it was not a day the holy woman used to go out on, he crept out of the cell, being well persuaded that nobody would ask him any questions about it; or, if they should, he had an answer ready for them. As one of the first things he did after his arrival was to find out Aladdin’s palace, where he was to execute his designs, he went directly thither.
As soon as the people saw the holy woman, as they imagined him to be, they presently gathered about him in a great crowd. Some begged his blessing, others kissed his hand, and others, more reserved, only the hem of his garment: while others, whether their heads ached, or they had a mind to be preserved against that distemper, stooped for him to lay his hands upon them; which he did, muttering some words in form of prayer, and, in short, counterfeited so well, that everybody took him for the holy woman.
After frequently stopping to satisfy these kind of people, who received neither good nor harm from this imposition of hands, he came at last to the square before Aladdin’s palace. The crowd was so great that the eagerness to get at him increased in proportion. Those who were the most zealous and strong, forced their way through the crowd to get room. There were such quarrels, and so great a noise, that the princess, who was in the hall of four-and-twenty windows, heard it, and asked what was the matter; but nobody being able to give her an account, she ordered them to go and see, and inform her. One of her women looked out of a window, and then told her it was a great crowd of people that were gathering about the holy woman, to be cured of the headache by the imposition of her hands.
The princess, who had for a long time heard a great deal of this holy woman, but had never seen her, conceived a great curiosity to have some conversation with her, which the chief of the eunuchs perceiving, told her it was an easy matter to bring her to her, if she desired and commanded it; and the princess shewing a desire, he immediately sent four eunuchs for the pretended holy woman.
As soon as the crowd saw the eunuchs coming, they made way, and the magician perceiving also that they were coming for him, advanced to meet them, overjoyed to find his plot took so well. “Holy woman,” said one of the eunuchs, “the princess wants to see you, and has sent us for you.” “The princess does me too great an honour,” replied the false Fatima; “I am ready to obey her command,” and at the same time followed the eunuchs to the palace.
When the magician, who under a holy garment disguised a wicked heart, was introduced into the great hall, and perceived the princess, he began a prayer, which contained a long enumeration of vows and good wishes for the princess’s health and prosperity, and that she might have everything she desired. Then he displayed all his deceitful, hypocritical rhetoric, to insinuate himself into the princess’s favour under the cloak of piety, which it was no hard matter for him to do; for as the princess herself was naturally good she was easily persuaded that all the world was like her, especially those who made profession of serving God in solitary retreat.