It was a long while before the gazelle could persuade her to tell him what had passed upstairs, but at last she told him all. When he had heard it, he said: “Did he really tell you to make me red millet gruel?”
“Ah,” cried she, “do you think I would say such a thing if it were not so?”
“Well,” said Keejeepaa, “I believe what the old folks said was right. However, we’ll give him another chance. Go up to him again, and tell him I am very sick, and that I can’t eat that gruel.”
So she went upstairs, and found the master and mistress sitting by the window, drinking coffee.
The master, looking around and seeing her, said: “What’s the matter now, old woman?”
And she said: “Master, I am sent by Keejeepaa. He is very sick indeed, and has not taken the gruel you told me to make for him.”
“Oh, bother!” he exclaimed. “Hold your tongue, and keep your feet still, and shut your eyes, and stop your ears with wax; then, if that gazelle tells you to come up here, say that your legs are stiff; and if he tells you to listen, say your ears are deaf; and if he tells you to look, say your sight has failed you; and if he wants you to talk, tell him your tongue is paralyzed.”
When the old woman heard these words, she stood and stared, and was unable to move. As for his wife, her face became sad, and the tears began to start from her eyes; observing which, her husband said, sharply, “What’s the matter with you, sultan’s daughter?”
The lady replied, “A man’s madness is his undoing.”
“Why do you say that, mistress?” he inquired.