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There was once a sultan who died while he was still on the throne, leaving his wife with child. She prayed to God to give her a son, but when her son was born, he ate up his father’s fortune in a single year. They named him Mhammed Belhazzala. Once he had eaten through everything his father had left him, he could find nothing more to eat. He went out and came upon a baker.

“Give me some bread to eat,” he said. The baker gave him bread, and he ate it. Then the baker asked him to pay. “I have no money,” he said, and struck the baker dead. People heard about it, and word reached the ruler. Men came to take him before the ruler, but he killed three of the ruler’s servants, and one escaped. When the ruler heard, he said, “Have I no one who can deal with him?” He sent a troop of soldiers to bring him in. “Come before the ruler,” they told him. “You have killed people.” “I acknowledge no ruler,” he answered. “I am the ruler!” “How can you say you acknowledge no ruler?” they asked. Their officer ordered them to seize him by force. They came to lay hands on him, but he killed half of them. The other half fled and went to tell the ruler. On hearing this, the ruler turned to his vizier. “Let me go and see him for myself,” said the vizier, “and then I shall come back and tell you.” He went to look at him, then returned to the palace. “My lord,” he said, “let us ride out together, you and I and your retinue, and bring him here with kindness. Otherwise he will destroy everyone and remain alone in the country like an ogre.” The ruler rode out with him, and they came to Mhammed. The sultan dismounted and said, “You shall be as my own son, and your father’s wealth is everywhere. Come and live with me, and eat all my wealth. Bear witness, good people: he is my son from this day forward.” Mhammed went with him, and the ruler lodged him in the palace. He instructed the cook, “Give him whatever he asks for.” “Bring me a meal,” Mhammed said. They brought him a meal, and he ate it all without satisfying his hunger. “Bring me more,” he said. They gave him the food intended for the ruler, and he ate every bit of it. Word reached the ruler that all the food was gone. “Give him more,” he said. “Let him eat. Today I bought four quintals of meat; tomorrow buy eight.” They gave him twice as much as they had cooked on the first day. By the time he had spent a year with the ruler, the ruler was bankrupt. “Think of something,” he told the vizier. “What am I to do? This fellow has ruined us.

“He has eaten up our whole fortune. He is still young, and already he is like this! What will he be like when he grows up?” The vizier turned to him and said, “I shall find a way for you. Let us go hunting and take him out of the city, or he will kill us all. Have it proclaimed throughout the country: ‘Whoever kills Mhammed Belhazzala shall have my daughter and half my kingdom.’” The vizier went to Mhammed Belhazzala and said, “Come, let us go out hunting for a little while.” They brought him a horse. He and the vizier mounted and rode out to the hunting grounds. Meanwhile, the proclamation went out through the country: “Whoever kills Mhammed Belhazzala shall have my daughter and half my kingdom.” A poor man came forward. “If I kill him, I shall have a living,” he said, “and if I die, farewell to the world! I shall go and kill him.” As they were returning from the hunt, the man who intended to kill him sprang at him with a dagger.

“Gently now, you who come charging at people!” Mhammed said to him. “Where are your wits? Have you neither father nor mother?” He went home in a fury. They set food before him, but he would not eat. “Send for the sultan,” he said. The sultan came, and Mhammed asked him, “Are you my father or are you not?”

“I am not your father,” he replied. “I found you in the city making trouble and killing people, so I took you in as my son.” “If you are not my father,” said Mhammed, “then I shall not stay in this country. I shall leave.” They brought him a horse. He mounted and rode away. He travelled for fifteen days through the wilderness before he saw a horseman approaching. The horseman questioned him. “Where are you going? What has brought you here?” “I have been travelling through the wilderness for fifteen days,” Mhammed replied, “and I have seen neither a horseman riding nor a bird flying.” The horseman looked at Mhammed Belhazzala and asked, “What is your name?”

He told him his name, then asked, “And what is yours?” “My name is Gergab Ezzebal. Come, let us be companions and share our food. We can return to the place you came from.” Another horseman approached them. “Where are you going?” he asked. They in turn asked him, “Where are you going, horseman?” “I left my country in anger,” he said, “and decided to travel to the ends of the earth. In the desert I found a palace. I stayed at its gate for twenty days without seeing either a human being or a jinn.” “Come and take us to this palace,” they said. “Let us have a look at it.” They went back with him and reached the palace gate. There they stayed for three days without seeing anyone.

Mhammed Belhazzala turned to them and said, “There is nothing in this palace. Come, let us go up and see.” “We will not go up,” they answered. “If we find an ogre there, we are ogres too,” he said. “If we find lions, we are lions too.” “No,” they said, “we will not go up.” He drew his sword and went up alone. There he found all the bounty God could bestow: jewels, gold, and food. He came back to his companions. “Come up,” he told them. “We have found what we were looking for. We can go up and eat and drink until the day we die.” They went up, cooked their supper, and ate their fill. Then they looked at one another and said, “We shall grow bored. Let one of us stay and cook each day while the other two go hunting.” “Let us see who is to stay first,” said Mhammed Belhazzala. Gergab Ezzebal stayed behind. He tied a cloth around his waist and was about to cook their midday meal when an old woman appeared. “What has brought you here, Gergab Ezzebal?” she asked. “What has brought you to this palace? This is my property.” “Your property?” he said, laying his hand on his sword, about to

kill her. But she sprang upon him, flung him to the ground, bound him, and gave him such a beating that she left him helpless, his whole body bruised. His companions came home. He thought to himself, “If I tell them I have been beaten, they will laugh at me. Let them

taste what I have tasted and take a beating as I did. What shall I tell them when they ask why I have not cooked the meal? I shall say I climbed onto the roof and fell, and now my whole body aches.” In the end they told him, “Never mind. We shall cook for ourselves.”

They cooked, ate supper, and went to sleep. In the morning they said, “Come, Fettal Elhbal, today it is your turn.” What had happened to Master Gergab Ezzebal happened to him too: he took a beating. Afterwards he thought, “This old woman must have beaten Gergab Ezzebal as well, and he was ashamed to admit it. I shall do the same and say I climbed onto the roof and fell.” His companions returned and asked, “Why have you not cooked the meal?” “I fell today from the same place you fell from yesterday,” he answered. The next morning they said, “It is Mhammed Belhazzala’s turn. He will stay and cook.” Once the two who had been beaten were outside, they asked each other, “What happened to you?” “What happened to me happened to you,” came the answer. Mhammed Belhazzala stayed behind, thinking, “My companions never fell from the roof at all.” While he was pondering this, the old woman appeared, intending to beat him as she had the others. “Mhammed Belhazzala, what has brought you here?” she asked. “So you are the one who beat my companions,” he said. She sprang at him to seize him, but he struck her with his sword and cut off her head. The head fell and went tumbling down the stairs. He followed it until it reached a well and fell inside. He waited at the edge of the well until his companions returned. They searched for him and could not find him. “She has killed him,” they said. Then they saw the blood and followed its trail to the well, where they found him standing. “Ah, you fools!” he said. “To let an old woman like that get the better of you and beat you! I have cut off her head. Come, Fettal Elhbal, twist me a rope.

“Her head fell down here, and I must go down and look for it.” So they lowered him to the bottom of the well. He searched until he saw a light. Following it, he came upon a garden with three rooms. He entered the first room and found a young woman there. “Mhammed Belhazzala, what has brought you here?” she asked. “We are three girls, and an afrit has been set over us. You cannot overcome him; he will kill you.” “Show me this afrit,” he said. “There he is, asleep in that room,” they told him. He went to the room and opened the door. The afrit blew at him and sent him flying.

But he came back, struck the afrit, and killed him. Then he brought the girls out. “Come,” he said, “I shall get you out of the well.” “You must go up first,” they told him. “I will not go up first,” he said. “You go up before me.” “Your companions will betray you,” they warned him. “No, no,” he said. “Very well. We shall go up first.” Before they went, each girl put her hand into her pouch and gave him two walnuts. They were hauled up, and when his companions saw them, they were astonished. “Is anyone still down below?” they asked. “Our lord Mhammed Belhazzala is still there,” the girls replied. They lowered the rope to pull him up, but when he was halfway up the well, they cut it. Down the poor fellow fell! They took the women and went away. “Let us travel on,” they said, “and settle in the first town we come to.” When they had brought the women to a town, they discussed the matter between themselves. “You take one, I shall take another, and we shall give the third to the sultan so that he will treat us well.” They gave one of the women to the sultan. He had not yet married her, but he made the two men his viziers, one at his right hand and one at his left. Meanwhile, Mhammed Belhazzala wandered about at the bottom of the well. He had forgotten the walnuts the women had given him. As he was taking off his clothes, he felt his pouch and found the walnuts inside.

He took one out and cracked it. A figure emerged from it, a jinn. “Ask for whatever you wish, my lord,” he said. “I want to go to the town where the women are,” Mhammed replied. “Take me there.” “Come, climb onto my back,” said the jinn. He took Mhammed on his back and carried him to the town where

the women were. He set him down there and said, “Now, farewell.” Mhammed wandered through the town until he saw a tailor’s shop. It belonged to the master of the tailors’ guild. “What are you doing here?” the master asked him. “I am a stranger,” he replied. “I know no one.” “Would you like to work for me?” “Yes, I would.” “You can sleep in the shop and look after it, and you shall have your supper and your midday meal.”

He stayed and worked for him, one day, then a second, then a third. Now the sultan wished to hold the weddings. But the girls declared, “We will not marry unless we are brought three dresses that no needle has sewn and no scissors have cut.” The sultan went to his viziers. “Find me a way to do this,” he said. “My lord,” they answered, “do we not have the master of the tailors’ guild?

“Let us send for him.” They summoned him, and he came before the sultan. “Did you send for me, my lord?” he asked. “Yes,” said the sultan. “I want three dresses that no needle has sewn and no scissors have cut.” “I cannot do it,” the tailor replied. “There is no such thing. I cannot make them.” “You must make them,” said the sultan. “If you do not, I shall cut off your head.” “When fate decrees, one can only be patient,” said the tailor. He left in tears and returned weeping to his shop. His apprentice Mhammed asked him, “What is the matter, master? Why are you crying?” “Leave me alone,” he said. “Since the day you came to me, I have seen no good.” “Am I not like a son to you?” said Mhammed Belhazzala. “How can you speak to me like that? Tell me what has happened.” The tailor told him about the dresses.

“Do not be afraid,” Mhammed said. “Go and eat, then rest. Leave the dresses to me.” The master of the tailors’ guild looked at him. “You are not joking?” “Leave them to me. I am not joking! Go home, master, and set your mind at ease.” His master went away. Mhammed shut the little shop, went into the back room, lit a lamp, and sat down. He put his hand into his pouch and took out one of the walnuts the girls had given him.

He cracked it, and a mighty jinn emerged. “Ask for whatever you wish, my lord,” he said. “I want three dresses that no needle has sewn and no scissors have cut.” “God bless you! They are ready,” the jinn replied, and brought them to him at once. Mhammed hid them in the back room.

His master came the next morning. “What have you done, my boy?” he asked. “I could not do it, master!” “How could you tell me yesterday to go home and put my mind at ease, only to tell me now that you could not do it?” The master grew angry. Mhammed Belhazzala looked at him and said, “Do not be angry, master. Here they are, ready.” He went into the back room, brought out the dresses, and handed them to his master. The tailor examined them and found them exactly as they should be. “Come with me,” he said, “so the sultan may give you a reward.” “No, I do not wish to go. Leave me here and go by yourself.” The tailor took the dresses to the sultan. “Well done!” said the sultan, and showered gifts upon him. He returned to the shop delighted. The sultan sent the dresses to the women. “Here are your dresses, ready,” he told them. The women looked at one another. “Yes,” they said, “Mhammed Belhazzala has come here.” The sultan declared, “Tomorrow shall be the wedding.” The news was proclaimed throughout the town, and the master tailor heard it. “My boy,” he said, “will you come with me to watch the horsemen’s games?” “I will not go. Leave me alone,” Mhammed answered. The master went by himself. Mhammed Belhazzala entered the back room and cracked a walnut. A mighty jinn appeared. “Ask for whatever you wish,” he said. “I want a black horse, a black saddle, black clothes, and black weapons.” He mounted the black horse and rode to the field to join the games. At the end, he snatched up the bride and flew into the sky with her. Word reached the sultan. When the bridal litter was brought home, they found it empty. “Ah, the bride has been carried off!” he cried. “What am I to do now?” “Marry one of her sisters,” said the vizier. “Make everything ready,” said the sultan. “The wedding shall be tomorrow.” The next day the horses came out for the games, and the second bride was brought out in the bridal litter. Mhammed Belhazzala entered the back room and cracked a walnut. Another mighty jinn appeared. “Ask for whatever you wish, my lord.” “I want a red horse, a red saddle, red clothes, and red weapons.” “They are ready,” said the jinn. Mhammed mounted and rode out to join the games.

At the end, he carried off the second bride. The sultan and the people went home without having seen how he had taken her, for the jinn’s magic concealed him from their eyes. They opened the bridal litter to look at the bride and found it empty. The sultan turned to the vizier. “Find a way out of this! The second litter is empty. She has been carried off. Think what we are to do.” “The man who took yesterday’s bride has taken today’s as well,” said the vizier, “and our man is here in the town.” “Gather the crossbowmen for me,” said the sultan.

“Very well. God bless you,” said the vizier. They gathered the crossbowmen, and the vizier told them, “Tomorrow, when the horses come out for the games, a strange horseman will join you. Keep your eyes on him. When you see him fly into the sky, shoot at him. Whoever hits him shall have a reward.” Word of this reached Mhammed Belhazzala. He went into the back room and cracked a walnut. A mighty jinn emerged. “Ask for whatever you wish, my lord.” “I want a white horse, a white saddle, white clothes, and white weapons.” Mhammed Belhazzala mounted and rode out to the bridal procession and the field. The games began, and everyone kept watch on him. At last he seized the bride and flew away. As he rose, one of the crossbowmen struck him in the arm. He snatched a scarf from one of the women watching and bound his arm with it. Then he went back into his shop and sat down, his arm bandaged. They found the bridal litter empty, just as before. “Find me a way out of this,” the sultan told the vizier. “Bring me the crossbowmen,” the vizier said. They came, and he asked, “Which of you hit him?” One of them said, “I did. I struck him in the arm with a bolt.” Then the vizier said, “Let us send men all through the town. The man they find wounded in the arm is the one we are looking for.”

They went out searching. Two of the men came to rest in the shop of the master tailor. The master turned to Mhammed Belhazzala and said, “Hand me that garment on the shelf.” Mhammed rose and reached for the garment, and his arm was uncovered. They saw the scarf tied around it. “You are our man,” they said. They seized him. “Come, we shall take you to the sultan. You are the one who carried off the brides.” People gathered around and held him fast. “Give me a moment,” he said. “I shall go to the sultan. Let me get dressed first. My master will stand surety for me.” His master vouched for him, and they let him into the shop and shut the door behind him. Mhammed Belhazzala took out a walnut and cracked it. A mighty jinn appeared. “Ask for whatever you wish, my lord.” “I want clothes and decorations like the sultan’s.” He dressed in clothes and decorations like those of the sultan, opened the door, and came out. The people stood astonished and kissed his hand. He went up to the sultan. At the sight of him, the sultan rose, and they greeted one another. “Sit beside me,” said the sultan. “Was it you who carried off the brides?” “Yes, I carried them off,” he replied. “Tell me, my lord, are these viziers of yours old servants or new ones?”

“They came here recently and brought me these women,” said the sultan. Mhammed turned to them. “Are you not Gergab Ezzebal? And are you not Fettal Elhbal?” “No,” they answered. “We do not know you.” “We shared bread and salt,” he said. “We were together in the palace, and the old woman gave you both a beating. I brought the girls out of the well, and you cut the rope on me.” Then he said to the sultan, “Come with me, my lord.” They went to the women. “Ask the women who brought them out of the well,” he said.

“You did, our lord Mhammed Belhazzala,” they answered. “You brought us out of the well, and your companions betrayed you and cut the rope on you.” The two men were brought before the women. “What shall we do with them?” the sultan asked. “Put them to death,” said Mhammed. “Then you shall take one bride, I shall take another, and we shall give the third to whomever you wish.” In the end, the sultan made him his grand vizier, with high standing at court, and the weddings were held, each man taking one of the girls.