My father was King of the city that stood in this place, and his
name was Mohammed, Lord of the Black Islands, which are no other
than the four hills of which thou wottest. He reigned seventy
years, at the end of which time God took him to Himself, and I
succeeded to his throne and took to wife the daughter of my
father's brother, who loved me with an exceeding love, so that,
whenever I was absent from her, she would neither eat nor drink
till she saw me again. With her I lived for five years, till one
day she went out to go to the bath, and I bade the cook hasten
supper for us against her return. Then I entered the palace and
lay down on the bed where we were wont to lie and ordered two
slave-girls to sit, one at my head and the other at my feet, and
fan me. Now I was disturbed at my wife's absence and could not
sleep, but remained awake, although my eyes were closed.
Presently I heard the damsel at my head say to the other one, "O
Mesoudeh, how unhappy is our lord and how wretched is his youth,
and oh, the pity of him with our accursed harlot of a mistress!"
"Yes, indeed," replied Mesoudeh; "may God curse all unfaithful
women and adulteresses! Indeed, it befits not that the like of
our lord should waste his youth with this harlot, who lies abroad
every night." Quoth the other, "Is our lord then a fool, that,
when he wakes in the night and finds her not by his side, he
makes no enquiry after her?" "Out on thee," rejoined Mesoudeh;
"has our lord any knowledge of this or does she leave him any
choice? Does she not drug him every night in the cup of drink she
gives him before he sleeps, in which she puts henbane? So he
sleeps like a dead man and knows nothing of what happens.
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