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As for Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian, he was a roguish adventurer in Cairo in the days of a man called Salah al-Misri, captain of the city’s guard. Ali had forty followers, and Salah al-Misri’s men were forever laying traps for him, thinking he would fall into them; but whenever they searched for him, they found he had slipped away like quicksilver. For this reason they nicknamed him al-Zaybaq, the Egyptian Quicksilver. One day Ali was sitting among his followers in their hall when his heart grew heavy and his spirits sank. The hall’s steward saw him sitting there with a gloomy face and said, “What troubles you, chief? If your heart is heavy, take a turn through Cairo. Walking through its markets will drive your cares away.” So he rose and went out to stroll through Cairo, but his grief and anxiety only increased. Passing a tavern, he said to himself, “I shall go in and get drunk.” He entered and found seven rows of people seated inside. “Tavern keeper,” he said, “I will sit only by myself.” The man gave him a room upstairs and brought him wine, and he drank until he lost all awareness of the world. Then he left the tavern and wandered through Cairo’s streets until he reached al-Darb al-Ahmar. The road emptied before him, for people stood in awe of him. Looking round, he saw a water carrier serving water by the cup and crying as he went, “O God, who restores all losses! No drink like raisin wine, no union like a beloved’s embrace, and none but a wise man deserves the seat of honor!” Ali said to him, “Come and give me a drink.” The water carrier looked at him and handed him the cup. Ali peered into it, swirled it, and poured it on the ground. “Will you not drink?” asked the water carrier. “Give me a drink,” said Ali. The man filled the cup, but Ali took it, swirled it, and poured it on the ground, and he did the same a third time. “If you do not mean to drink, go away,” said the man. “Give me a drink,” Ali repeated. He filled the cup and handed it to him, and this time Ali drank, then gave him a dinar. The water carrier looked at him with disdain and said, “Well done, well done, lad! The least of one people are the greatest of another.” And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and ninth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Ali gave the water carrier a dinar, the man looked at him with disdain and said, “Well done, well done! The least of one people are the greatest of another.” Ali sprang up, seized the water carrier by his robes, and drew on him a costly dagger, as the poet says in these two verses:

Strike the stubborn foe with your dagger, and fear no one save the might of the Creator. Shun all base conduct, and never be without the virtues of a noble character. Then he said, “Old man, speak sense to me. Your waterskin, at its dearest, is worth no more than three dirhams, and the two cups I poured on the ground held about a pound of water.” “Yes,” said the man. “Yet I gave you a gold dinar. Why, then, do you make light of me? Have you ever seen anyone braver or more generous than I?” “I have seen a man both braver and more generous,” he replied. “As long as women bear children, no man in this world can claim to be the bravest or the most generous.” “Whom have you seen who is braver and more generous than I?” Ali asked. “Know,” said the water carrier, “that I have a remarkable tale to tell. My father was chief of the water carriers who sell water by the cup in Cairo. He died and left me five camels, a mule, a shop, and a house. But a poor man never grows rich, and if he does, he dies. I said to myself, ‘I shall go to the Hijaz.’ I bought a string of camels and kept borrowing until I owed five hundred dinars, and I lost everything on the pilgrimage. Then I said to myself, ‘If I return to Cairo, my creditors will have me imprisoned.’ So I traveled with the Syrian pilgrims until I reached Aleppo, and from Aleppo I went on to Baghdad. There I asked for the chief of the water carriers, and they directed me to him. I went in and recited the Opening Chapter of the Quran for him. He asked about my circumstances, and I told him everything that had befallen me. He cleared out a shop for me, gave me a waterskin and the necessary equipment, and I went out trusting in God’s bounty. As I made my rounds through the city, I offered one man a cup to drink. He said, ‘I have eaten nothing to wash down. A miser invited me today and set two water jugs before me, so I said to him, “Son of a scoundrel, have you given me anything to eat that you now offer me something to wash it down?” Go away, water carrier, until I have eaten something, and then give me a drink.’ I went to another man, but he said, ‘May God provide for you.’ So it went until noon, and no one gave me anything. I said, ‘Would that I had never come to Baghdad!’ Just then I saw people running, and I followed them. There I saw a magnificent procession advancing two by two, all of them wearing collars and sashes, hooded cloaks, felt armor, and steel. I asked someone, ‘Whose procession is this?’ ‘Captain Ahmad al-Danaf’s,’ he replied. ‘What is his rank?’ I asked. ‘He is captain of the guard at court and chief captain of Baghdad, with responsibility for security on land. The Caliph pays him a thousand dinars a month, and each of his followers a hundred. Hasan Shuman receives a thousand dinars, the same as he does. They are coming down from court to their hall.’

“Just then Ahmad al-Danaf saw me and said, ‘Come and give me a drink.’ I filled the cup and handed it to him, but he swirled it and poured it away. He did the same a second time, and the third time he took a sip, just as you did. Then he asked, ‘Water carrier, where are you from?’ ‘From Cairo,’ I told him. ‘God bless Cairo and its people!’ he said. ‘What brought you to this city?’ I told him my story and explained that I was in debt and had fled my creditors and the burden of supporting my family. ‘You are welcome here,’ he said, and gave me five dinars. Then he told his followers, ‘Seek God’s favor and be generous to him.’ Each man gave me a dinar, and he said, ‘Old man, so long as you remain in Baghdad, you shall have as much from us whenever you give us water.’ So I kept visiting them, and other people too began to treat me generously. After a few days I counted what I had earned from them and found that I had a thousand dinars. I said to myself, ‘It would be best now to return home.’ I went to his hall and kissed his hands. ‘What do you wish?’ he asked. ‘I wish to leave,’ I said, and recited these two verses:

A stranger’s dwelling in any land is like a palace built upon the winds. A gust destroys all he has built: the stranger has resolved to depart. “Then I said, ‘The caravan is leaving for Cairo, and I wish to return to my family.’ He gave me a mule and a hundred dinars and said, ‘Old man, I should like to entrust you with something to deliver. Do you know the people of Cairo?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied.” And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and tenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the water carrier said, “Ahmad al-Danaf gave me a mule and a hundred dinars, then said, ‘I should like to entrust you with something to deliver. Do you know the people of Cairo?’ ‘Yes,’ I replied. ‘Take this letter,’ he said, ‘and deliver it to Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian. Tell him that his chief sends him greetings and is now in the Caliph’s service.’ I took the letter and traveled until I reached Cairo. My creditors saw me, and I paid them what I owed. Then I took up my trade as a water carrier, but I never delivered the letter, for I did not know where Ali al-Zaybaq’s hall was.” Ali said, “Old man, set your mind at ease and rejoice! I am Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian, foremost of Captain Ahmad al-Danaf’s lads. Give me the letter.” He handed it to him, and when Ali opened it and read it, he found these two verses:

I write to you, O fairest of the fair, upon a sheet that travels with the wind. If I could fly, longing would lend me wings; but how can one whose wings are clipped take flight?

“To proceed: greetings from Captain Ahmad al-Danaf to the eldest of his sons, Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian. Know that I sought out Salah al-Din al-Misri and played trick for trick with him until I buried him alive. His lads submitted to me, among them Ali Camel-Shoulder. I have been appointed chief captain of Baghdad at the Caliph’s court and charged with security on land. If you still honor the bond between us, come to me. Perhaps you may perform some clever feat in Baghdad that will bring you into the Caliph’s service, so that he grants you a salary and an allowance and builds you a hall. This is my wish. Peace.” When Ali had read the letter, he kissed it and laid it on his head, then gave the water carrier ten dinars as a reward for the good news. He went back to the hall, entered among his lads, and told them what had happened. “I charge you to look after one another,” he said. Then he took off his clothes and put on a loose cloak and a tarboosh. He took a case containing a lance made of cane, twenty-four cubits long, whose sections fitted one into another. The steward said, “Will you leave us when the storeroom is empty?” “When I reach Syria,” Ali replied, “I shall send you enough for your needs.” He went on his way and overtook a traveling caravan. With it he saw the chief of the merchants and forty other merchants, whose loads, along with those of their chief, lay on the ground. Their caravan master was a Syrian, who was saying to the muleteers, “Will one of you help me?” But they cursed and abused him. Ali said to himself, “I could do no better than travel with this caravan master.” Now Ali was a handsome, beardless youth. He went up to the man and greeted him, and the man welcomed him and asked, “What do you want?” “Uncle,” he replied, “I see you are alone, with forty mule-loads to attend to. Why did you not bring men to help you?” “My son,” he said, “I hired two lads, clothed them, and put two hundred dinars into each one’s pocket. They helped me as far as al-Khankah, then ran away.” “Where are you bound?” Ali asked. “For Aleppo.” “I shall help you,” said Ali. So they loaded the mules and set out, and the chief merchant mounted his mule and rode along. The Syrian caravan master was delighted with Ali and fell in love with him. When night came, they halted and ate and drank. At bedtime, Ali lay down on the ground and pretended to be asleep, while the caravan master lay close beside him. Then Ali got up and sat at the entrance to the merchant’s pavilion. The caravan master turned over and tried to gather Ali into his arms, but could not find him. “Perhaps he made an appointment with someone who has taken him away,” he thought. “But I have the better right to him. Another night I shall keep him to myself.”

Ali remained at the entrance to the merchant’s pavilion until dawn was near, then returned and lay down beside the caravan master. When the man awoke and found him there, he said to himself, “If I ask him where he was, he will leave me and go away.” So he continued to coax him along until they approached a cave in a wood. In that wood lived a savage lion, and whenever a caravan passed, its members drew lots, and whoever lost was thrown to the beast. They drew lots, and the lot fell upon none other than the chief merchant. There was the lion blocking their path, waiting to take its victim from the caravan. The chief merchant was in great distress and said to the caravan master, “May God bring ill fortune upon you and your journey! But I charge you, after my death, to deliver my goods to my children.” Ali asked, “What is the meaning of all this?” They told him the story, and he said, “Why do you run from a wild cat? I undertake to kill it for you.” The caravan master went to the merchant and told him. “If he kills it,” said the merchant, “I shall give him a thousand dinars.” “We too shall give him something,” said the other merchants. Ali rose and threw off his cloak, revealing steel armor beneath it. He took a strip of steel and turned its screw, then stepped out alone before the lion and shouted at it. The beast charged, and Ali the Egyptian struck it between the eyes with his sword and split it in two, while the caravan master and the merchant looked on. “Do not be afraid, uncle,” he said to the caravan master. “My son,” the man replied, “from now on I am your servant.” The merchant rose, embraced him, kissed him between the eyes, and gave him the thousand dinars. Every other merchant gave him twenty dinars. Ali left all the money in the chief merchant’s keeping. They passed the night there and in the morning set out for Baghdad, until they came to the Forest of Lions and the Valley of Dogs. There a rebellious Bedouin highwayman lay in wait with his tribe. They attacked the caravan, and its people fled before them. “My wealth is lost!” cried the merchant. But Ali advanced to meet the robbers, wearing a leather garment covered in bells. He brought out his lance and fitted its sections together, snatched a horse from among the Bedouin’s horses, mounted it, and cried to their chief, “Come out and fight me with the lance!” He shook his bells, and the Bedouin’s mare shied at their clamor. Ali struck the Bedouin’s lance and broke it, then struck him on the neck and sent his head flying. When his tribesmen saw this, they closed in on Ali. “God is most great!” he cried, and charged them, routing them and putting them to flight. Then he raised the Bedouin’s head upon a spear. The merchants rewarded him generously, and they traveled on until they reached Baghdad. Ali asked the chief merchant for his money, and he gave it to him. Ali handed it to the caravan master and said, “When you reach Cairo, ask for my hall and give this money to its steward.”

Ali passed the night there, then entered the city in the morning and walked through it, asking for Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall, but no one would direct him to it. He wandered on until he reached the Square of the Shaking-Out, where he saw some boys playing. Among them was a boy called Ahmad the Foundling. “If you want news of a people,” Ali said, “ask their children.” He looked round and saw a confectioner, bought some sweets, and called to the boys. But Ahmad the Foundling drove the others away, then came forward himself and asked Ali, “What do you want?” “I had a son who died,” Ali said. “I saw him in a dream asking for sweets, so I bought these and want to give each boy a piece.” He gave Ahmad the Foundling a piece. The boy examined it and saw a dinar stuck to it. “Go away,” he said. “I do not do indecent things. Ask about me.” “My son,” Ali replied, “only a clever rogue takes a fee, and only a clever rogue pays one. I have gone all over the city looking for Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall, but no one will show it to me. This dinar is your fee for leading me there.” The boy said, “I shall run ahead, and you run after me until I reach the hall. Then I shall pick up a pebble with my foot and throw it at the door, so you will know it.” The boy ran and Ali ran after him, until he picked up the pebble with his foot and threw it at the hall’s door, and Ali knew the place. And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and eleventh night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Ahmad the Foundling had run ahead of Ali and shown him the hall, so that he knew it, Ali seized the boy and tried to recover the dinar, but could not. “Go on,” he said. “You deserve a reward, for you are sharp-witted, sensible, and brave. God willing, if I become a captain in the Caliph’s service, I shall make you one of my lads.” The boy went away, while Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian approached the hall and knocked. Ahmad al-Danaf said, “Steward, open the door. That is Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian’s knock.” The steward opened it, and Ali went in, greeted Ahmad al-Danaf, and embraced him. The forty men also greeted him. Ahmad al-Danaf dressed him in a fine suit of clothes and said, “When the Caliph appointed me his captain, he clothed my lads, and I kept this suit for you.” Then they seated him in the place of honor among them. Food was brought, and they ate; wine was brought, and they drank and caroused until morning. Then Ahmad al-Danaf said to Ali the Egyptian, “Beware of roaming through Baghdad. Stay here in this hall.” “Why?” Ali asked. “Have I come here to be imprisoned? I came only to see the sights.” “My son,” he replied, “do not think Baghdad is like Cairo. This is Baghdad, the seat of the Caliphate. It is full of rogues, and roguery sprouts here as herbs sprout from the earth.” Ali remained in the hall for three days. Then Ahmad al-Danaf said to him, “I wish to present you to the Caliph so that he may grant you a salary.” “Wait until the time is ripe,” Ali replied, and Ahmad left him to his own devices.

One day Ali was sitting in the hall when his heart grew heavy and his spirits sank. “Get up and take a turn through Baghdad,” he said to himself. “It will cheer your heart.” He went out and wandered from alley to alley until he saw a cookshop in the middle of the market. He entered and ate his midday meal, then came out to wash his hands. Just then forty slaves went by, two by two, wearing steel bands and felt armor. Behind them all rode Dalila the Crafty on a mule, with a gilded helmet and a steel cap upon her head, a coat of mail, and all the rest of her gear. She was returning from court to the khan. When she saw Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian, she studied him and found that he resembled Ahmad al-Danaf in height and breadth. He wore a cloak, a hooded mantle, a steel band, and the like, and courage shone plainly in him, bearing witness in his favor, not against him. She went on to the khan and joined her daughter Zaynab. Then she brought out a geomancer’s sand tray and cast the figures. They revealed that his name was Ali the Egyptian and that his fortune prevailed over hers and her daughter Zaynab’s. “Mother,” Zaynab asked, “what did the figures in the tray reveal?” “Today I saw a young man who resembles Ahmad al-Danaf,” she replied. “I fear he may hear that you stripped Ahmad al-Danaf and his lads, then come into the khan and play us a trick to avenge his chief and the forty men. I think he is staying at Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall.” Her daughter Zaynab said, “What is all this? You seem to hold him in great awe.” Then she put on one of her finest outfits and went out to stroll through the city. When people saw her, they fell in love with her, while she made promises and swore oaths, listened to their words and put them off. She went from market to market until she saw Ali the Egyptian approaching. She brushed against him with her shoulder, turned, and said, “God bless those with an eye for beauty!” “How lovely you are!” he said. “To whom do you belong?” “To a fine fellow like you,” she replied. “Are you married or single?” “Married.” “At my place or yours?” he asked. “I am a merchant’s daughter,” she said, “and my husband is a merchant. Never in my life have I gone out except today. I had cooked some food and meant to eat, but found I had no appetite. When I saw you, love for you entered my heart. Could you find it in yourself to comfort me and eat a morsel at my house?” “Whoever is invited should accept,” he replied.

She walked on, and he followed her from alley to alley. As he went behind her, he said to himself, “What are you doing, a stranger here? It has been said that whoever commits adultery in a foreign land, God sends him home disappointed. Better put her off gently.” Then he said, “Take this dinar and let us make it another time.” “By the Most Great Name,” she replied, “you must come home with me this very moment, and I shall give myself to you.” He followed her until she reached the door of a house with a lofty gateway and a locked bolt. “Open this lock,” she said. “Where is its key?” he asked. “It is lost.” “Anyone who opens a lock without a key is a criminal,” he replied, “and the governor must punish him. Besides, I know nothing of opening locks without keys.” She drew her veil away from her face, and he gave her a glance that was to bring him a thousand regrets. Then she let her veil fall over the lock and recited over it the names of Moses’ mother, and opened it without a key. She entered, and he followed her. Inside he saw swords and weapons of steel. She took off her outer veil and sat down with him. “Endure what God has decreed for you,” he told himself. Then he leaned toward her to kiss her cheek, but she laid her hand over it and said, “No intimacy until night.” She brought a table of food and wine, and they ate and drank. Then she rose, filled a ewer from the well, and poured water over his hands so that he could wash them. While they were thus engaged, she suddenly beat her breast and cried, “My husband had a ruby ring pledged with him for five hundred dinars. I put it on, but it was too loose, so I made it fit with a little wax. When I lowered the bucket, the ring fell into the well. Turn toward the door while I undress and go down to fetch it.” “It would shame me to let you go down while I am here,” he said. “I shall go myself.” He took off his clothes and tied himself to the rope, and she lowered him into the well, which was full of deep water. Then she said, “The rope will reach no farther. Untie yourself and go down.” He untied himself, entered the water, and dived down several fathoms without reaching the bottom. As for her, she put on her outer veil, took his clothes, and went back to her mother. And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and twelfth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Ali the Egyptian had gone down into the well and Zaynab had taken his clothes, she went to her mother and said, “I have stripped Ali the Egyptian and dropped him into the well of Emir Hasan, the owner of the house. He will never escape.” Now Emir Hasan was away at court at the time. When he returned and saw his house standing open, he asked his groom, “Why did you not lock the bolt?” “My lord,” the groom replied, “I locked it with my own hands.” “By my life,” said the emir, “a thief has entered my house!” He went inside and looked about, but found no one. Then he said to the groom, “Fill the ewer so that I may perform my ablutions.” The groom took the bucket and lowered it into the well. When he drew it up, he found it heavy. He peered into the well and saw something sitting in the bucket, so he dropped it back into the well and cried, “My lord, an ifrit has come up out of the well!” Emir Hasan said, “Go and bring four learned men to recite the Quran over it until it departs.” When the scholars arrived, he told them, “Stand round this well and recite over this ifrit.” Then the slave and the groom came and lowered the bucket. Ali the Egyptian clung to it and hid himself inside. He waited until he was close to them, then sprang out of the bucket and landed among the scholars. They began slapping one another and crying, “An ifrit! An ifrit!” But Emir Hasan saw that he was a human youth and asked, “Are you a thief?” “No,” he replied. “Then why did you go down into the well?” “I was asleep and had a wet dream,” Ali said, “so I went down to bathe in the Tigris. I dived under, and the current drew me beneath the earth until I came out in this well.” “Tell the truth,” the emir said. So he told him everything that had happened. The emir sent him out of the house in an old garment, and he went to Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall and related his misadventure. “Did I not tell you,” said Ahmad, “that Baghdad has women who make fools of men?” Ali Camel-Shoulder said, “By the Most Great Name, tell me how you can be chief of Cairo’s young rogues and let a girl strip you!” Ali was deeply mortified and regretted what he had done, and Ahmad al-Danaf gave him another suit of clothes.

Then Hasan Shuman asked, “Do you know the girl?” “No,” Ali replied. “She is Zaynab, daughter of Dalila the Crafty, gatekeeper of the Caliph’s khan. So you fell into her net, Ali?” “Yes.” “Ali, this girl took your chief’s clothes and the clothes of all his lads.” “Shame on you all!” Ali said. “What do you mean to do?” asked Hasan. “I mean to marry her.” “Impossible! Put her out of your heart.” “What can I do to marry her, Shuman?” “You are welcome to her, if you will drink from my hand and march beneath my banner. Then you shall have your wish.” “I will,” said Ali. “Then take off your clothes.” Ali undressed, and Hasan took a pot and boiled in it something like pitch. He rubbed Ali with it until he looked like a black slave, painted his lips and cheeks, lined his eyes with red kohl, and dressed him in servants’ clothes. Then he set a meal of kebabs and wine before him and said, “There is a slave cook at the khan, and now you look just like him. The only things he needs from the market are meat and vegetables. Approach him pleasantly, speak to him in the slaves’ manner, greet him, and say, ‘It has been a long time since we met over a cup of beer.’ He will tell you, ‘I am busy. I am responsible for forty slaves. I cook them a spread at midday and another in the evening, feed the dogs, and prepare one table for Dalila and another for her daughter Zaynab.’ Then say, ‘Come, let us eat kebabs and drink beer.’ Bring him into the hall and make him drunk. Then ask how many dishes he cooks, what the dogs eat, and about the kitchen key and the pantry key. He will tell you, for a drunken man reveals everything he conceals when sober. After that, drug him, put on his clothes, tuck his knives into your belt, take his vegetable basket, and go to the market to buy meat and vegetables. Then enter the kitchen and the pantry, cook the food, dish it up, and carry it into the khan to Dalila. Put the drug in the food so that you stupefy the dogs, the slaves, Dalila, and her daughter Zaynab. Then go upstairs to her apartments and bring away all the clothes. And if you mean to marry Zaynab, bring the forty messenger birds as well.”

Ali went out and saw the slave cook. He greeted him and said, “It has been a long time since we met over a cup of beer.” “I am busy cooking for the slaves and the dogs,” the man replied. But Ali took him along, made him drunk, and asked how many dishes he cooked. “Five dishes every day at midday,” he said, “and five in the evening. Yesterday they asked for a sixth, saffron rice pudding, and a seventh, a dish of pomegranate seeds.” “And how do you serve the meals?” Ali asked. “I take one table to Zaynab, then another to Dalila. I give the slaves their supper, and afterward I feed the dogs, giving each as much meat as it needs—a pound at the very least.” But fate made Ali forget to ask about the keys. Then he stripped off the cook’s clothes and put them on himself, took the basket, and went to the market to buy meat and vegetables. And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and thirteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian had drugged the slave cook, he took his knives and tucked them into his belt, took the vegetable basket, and went to the market to buy meat and vegetables. Then he returned and entered the khan’s gate. He saw Dalila sitting there scrutinizing everyone who came and went, and the forty slaves standing armed. He took heart, but when Dalila saw him, she recognized him and said, “Go back, chief of thieves! Would you play a trick on me in the khan?” Ali the Egyptian, disguised as the slave, turned to her and said, “What are you saying, gatekeeper?” “What have you done with the slave cook?” she asked. “What have you done to him? Have you killed him or drugged him?” “What slave cook? Is there any slave cook here but me?” “You lie,” she said. “You are Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian.” In the slaves’ manner of speech he replied, “Gatekeeper, are Egyptians white or black? I will not work here any longer.” “What is wrong, cousin?” the slaves asked. Dalila said, “This is not your cousin. It is Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian, and he has probably drugged your cousin or killed him.” “This is our cousin Saad Allah the cook,” they said. “He is not your cousin,” she replied. “He is Ali the Egyptian, and he has dyed his skin.” “Who is Ali?” he asked. “I am Saad Allah.” “I have an ointment that will test you,” she said. She brought an ointment, rubbed it on his arm, and scrubbed, but the black did not come off. “Let him go and make our dinner,” said the slaves. “If he is your cousin,” she told them, “he will know what you asked him for last night, and how many dishes he cooks every day.” They asked him about the dishes and what they had requested the night before. “Lentils, rice, soup, stew, and a rosewater dish,” he replied, “with a sixth dish of saffron rice pudding and a seventh of pomegranate seeds, and the same for supper.” “That is right,” said the slaves. Dalila said, “Go in with him. If he knows the kitchen and the pantry, he is your cousin; otherwise, kill him.” Now the cook had brought up a cat, and whenever he came in, it would stand at the kitchen door, then leap onto his shoulders as he entered. When Ali came in and the cat saw him, it jumped onto his shoulders. He threw it off, and it ran ahead of him to the kitchen. He noticed that it stopped at the kitchen door, then looked through the keys and found one marked with traces of feathers. He knew this was the kitchen key, opened the door, and set down the vegetables. When he came out, the cat ran ahead and made for the pantry door, so he knew that this was the pantry. He examined the keys and saw one with traces of grease on it. Knowing this was the pantry key, he opened the door. The slaves said, “Dalila, if he were a stranger, he would not know the kitchen and the pantry, nor which key opened each door. This is indeed our cousin Saad Allah.” “He found the rooms by following the cat,” she said, “and distinguished the keys by the marks on them. This trick does not deceive me.” Ali went into the kitchen, cooked the meal, and carried a table upstairs to Zaynab. There he saw all the clothes in her apartments. Then he went down, set a table for Dalila, gave the slaves their dinner, and fed the dogs. He did the same at supper. The gate was opened only by daylight in the morning and closed before the light was gone in the evening.

Then Ali rose and called out through the khan, “Residents, the slaves are awake and on guard, and we have let the dogs loose. Anyone who comes out has only himself to blame.” He had delayed the dogs’ supper and put poison in it. When he served it to them and they ate, they died. He drugged all the slaves, Dalila, and her daughter Zaynab, then went upstairs, took all the clothes and the messenger pigeons, opened the khan, and left. He went on until he reached the hall, where Hasan Shuman saw him and asked, “What have you done?” Ali told him everything, and Hasan praised him. Then he rose and took off Ali’s clothes, boiled some herbs, and washed him with the water until he was as fair-skinned as before. Ali went to the slave, dressed him in his own clothes, and revived him from the drug. The slave got up, went to the greengrocer, bought the vegetables, and returned to the khan.

Such was the case with Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian. As for Dalila the Crafty, at the first light of dawn one of the merchants lodging in the khan came out of his room and saw the gate open, the slaves drugged, and the dogs dead. He went down to Dalila and found her drugged too, with a paper hanging round her neck. Beside her head he saw a sponge soaked in an antidote. He held it to her nostrils, and she came to her senses. “Where am I?” she asked. “I came downstairs,” the merchant told her, “and found the khan’s gate open. You and the slaves were drugged, and the dogs were dead.” She took the paper and read, “None but Ali the Egyptian did this deed.” She held the antidote beneath the nostrils of the slaves and her daughter Zaynab and said, “Did I not tell you that this was Ali the Egyptian?” Then she told the slaves, “Keep this matter secret.” To her daughter she said, “How often did I tell you that Ali would not leave his wrong unavenged? He has done this in return for what you did to him. He could have done something worse to you, but he went no further, wishing to preserve goodwill and seek friendship between us.” Then Dalila took off her warrior’s clothes and put on women’s garments, tied a kerchief round her neck, and made for Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall. When Ali had arrived with the clothes and the messenger pigeons, Shuman had risen and given the steward money for forty pigeons, which he bought and cooked for the men. Now Dalila knocked at the door, and Ahmad al-Danaf said, “That is Dalila’s knock. Get up and open the door, steward.” He rose and opened it, and Dalila came in. And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and fourteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when the steward opened the hall to Dalila, she entered, and Shuman said to her, “What brings you here, you ill-omened old woman, after you and your brother Zurayq the fishmonger joined forces against us?” “Captain,” she replied, “the fault is mine, and my neck is in your hands. But which of you is the young man who played me this trick?” “He is the foremost of my lads,” said Ahmad al-Danaf. “Then I beg you, in God’s name, to intercede with him,” she said, “and have him return my messenger pigeons and the other things, as a favor to me.” Hasan Shuman said, “May God give you your deserts, Ali! Why did you cook those pigeons?” “I did not know they were messenger pigeons,” Ali replied. Then Ahmad said, “Steward, bring her a share.” He gave it to her, and she took a piece of pigeon and chewed it. “This is not the flesh of my messenger birds,” she said. “I feed them musk-scented grain, and their flesh becomes like musk.” Shuman said to her, “If you want your messenger pigeons back, grant Ali the Egyptian his wish.” “What is his wish?” “That you give him your daughter Zaynab in marriage.” “I have no authority over her except by persuasion,” she replied. Hasan said to Ali the Egyptian, “Give her the pigeons.” Ali handed them over, and she took them joyfully. Then Shuman said, “You must give us a satisfactory answer.” “If he wishes to marry her,” she replied, “this trick he has played is certainly clever. But true cleverness would be to ask her uncle, Captain Zurayq, for her hand, for he is her guardian—the man who cries, ‘A pound of fish for two jadids!’ He has hung a purse in his shop with two thousand gold pieces in it.” When they heard her say this, they sprang up and cried, “What is this talk, you harlot? You only mean to have our brother Ali the Egyptian killed!” Then she left them and returned to the khan. “Ali the Egyptian has asked me for your hand,” she told her daughter. Zaynab was delighted, for she had fallen in love with him because he had refrained from taking advantage of her. She asked her mother what had happened, and Dalila told her everything, saying, “I made it a condition that he ask your uncle for your hand, and so I have sent him to his doom.”

As for Ali the Egyptian, he turned to them and said, “What is this Zurayq’s business? What sort of man is he?” They replied, “He is the chief of the rogues of Iraq. He could almost bore through a mountain and pluck a star from the sky, or steal the kohl from an eye. In this craft he has no equal. But he repented of his ways and opened a fish shop. From selling fish he amassed two thousand dinars, which he put in a purse. He tied a silken cord to it, hung brass bells and jingles on the cord, and fastened it to a peg just inside the shop door. Whenever he opens his shop, he hangs up the purse and cries, ‘Where are you, rogues of Egypt, gallants of Iraq, and masters of Persia? Zurayq the fishmonger has hung a purse before his shop. Whoever claims to be a rogue and can take it by a trick may keep it!’ The covetous rogues come and try to take it, but none succeeds, for he keeps discs of lead at his feet while he fries his fish and tends the fire. Whenever some greedy fellow tries to distract him and take the purse, he strikes him with a lead disc and maims or kills him. So, Ali, if you meddle with him, you will be like a man slapping his cheeks at a funeral without knowing who has died. You cannot match him, and we fear what he may do to you. You have no need to marry Zaynab. A man can live without what he gives up.” He replied, “That would be a disgrace, men! I must take the purse. But bring me a girl’s clothes.” They brought him a girl’s clothes, and he put them on, stained himself with henna, and let a veil fall over his face. Then he slaughtered a sheep and saved its blood, took out a length of intestine and cleaned it, tied one end, filled it with blood, and bound it to his thigh beneath his drawers and boots. He made himself breasts out of birds’ crops filled with milk, tied some cloth around his belly, padded it with cotton, and bound a heavily starched towel about his waist, so that everyone who saw him said, “What a lovely rounded rump!” Presently a donkey-driver came by. Ali gave him a dinar, and the man mounted him on his donkey and took him toward Zurayq’s shop. Ali saw the purse hanging there, with the gold showing through its mouth, while Zurayq was frying fish. “Donkey-driver,” he said, “what is that smell?” “The smell of Zurayq’s fish,” he replied. Ali said, “I am pregnant, and the smell troubles me. Bring me a piece of fish.” The donkey-driver said to Zurayq, “Have you taken to wafting your smells at pregnant women? I have with me the wife of the emir Hasan Sharr al-Tariq. She is pregnant and has smelled your fish. Give her a piece, for the child has stirred in her womb.” Zurayq said, “O Protector! God preserve us from the evils of this day!” He took a piece of fish and was about to fry it when the fire went out, so he went inside to rekindle it. Ali, who was sitting on the donkey, pressed against the intestine and burst it. Blood streamed between his legs, and he cried, “Oh, my side! Oh, my back!” The donkey-driver turned, saw the flowing blood, and said, “What is wrong, my lady?” Ali, still playing the woman, replied, “I have miscarried!” Zurayq looked out, saw the blood, and fled in terror into his shop. The donkey-driver said, “God bring misery upon you, Zurayq! The girl has miscarried, and you cannot stand up to her husband. Why did you let your smells waft about this morning? I asked you for a piece of fish for her, and you would not give it!” Then he took his donkey and went his way. When Zurayq fled inside, Ali the Egyptian reached for the purse. As soon as he grasped it, the gold rattled and the bells, jingles, and rings clanged. Zurayq cried, “Your trick is exposed, you scoundrel! Do you try your tricks on me disguised as a girl? Then take what is coming to you!” He hurled a lead disc at him, but it missed and struck someone else. The people rose against him, saying, “Are you a shopkeeper or a street fighter? If you are a shopkeeper, take down the purse and spare people your mischief!” He replied, “In God’s name, gladly.”

Ali returned to the hall, where Shuman asked him, “What did you do?” He told him everything that had happened, then took off the women’s clothes and said, “Shuman, bring me a groom’s clothes.” Shuman brought them, and Ali put them on, took a dish and five dirhams, and went to Zurayq the fishmonger. “What do you want, master?” Zurayq asked. Ali showed him the coins in his hand. Zurayq was about to give him some fish from the tray, but Ali said, “I will only take hot fish.” Zurayq put the fish in the pan to fry it, but the fire went out. He went inside to rekindle it, and Ali the Egyptian reached for the purse. He caught its edge, and the bells, rings, and jingles rattled. Zurayq said, “Your trick has not fooled me, even though you have come dressed as a groom. I recognized you by the way you held the coins and the dish.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her permitted tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and fifteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when Ali the Egyptian reached for the purse, the bells and rings rattled, and Zurayq said to him, “Your trick has not fooled me, even though you have come dressed as a groom. I recognized you by the way you held the coins and the dish.” He hurled a lead disc at him, but Ali the Egyptian dodged it. The disc landed in a pot full of hot meat, shattering it and spilling its broth over the shoulder of the qadi, who happened to be passing. Everything poured into the bosom of his robe and ran down to his privates. “Oh, my privates!” cried the qadi. “You wicked wretch! Who has done this to me?” The people told him, “Our lord, a little boy threw a stone, and it landed in the pot. God has spared you something worse.” Then they looked around and found the lead disc, and discovered that it was Zurayq the fishmonger who had thrown it. They rose against him, saying, “This is not lawful before God, Zurayq! You had better take down the purse.” “God willing, I shall,” he replied.

Ali the Egyptian returned to the hall and went in to the men. “Where is the purse?” they asked. He told them everything that had happened, and they said, “You have worn away two-thirds of his cunning.” He took off his clothes, put on a merchant’s suit, and went out. He saw a snake-charmer carrying a bag of snakes and a pouch containing his equipment. “Snake-charmer,” he said, “I want you to entertain my children, and you shall have a reward.” He brought him to the hall, fed him, drugged him, and put on his clothes. Then he went to Zurayq the fishmonger, approached him, and played his pipe. “May God provide for you,” Zurayq said. Ali took out the snakes and threw them down before him. Now Zurayq was afraid of snakes, so he fled into his shop. Ali gathered the snakes into the bag and reached for the purse. He caught its edge, and the rings, jingles, and bells clanged. Zurayq said, “Will you never stop trying your tricks on me? Now you have turned snake-charmer!” He hurled a lead disc at him. Just then a soldier was passing with his groom behind him, and the disc struck the groom on the head and felled him. “Who knocked him down?” the soldier asked. The people replied, “A stone fell from the awning.” The soldier went on, but the people looked around, saw the lead disc, and rose against Zurayq, saying, “Take down the purse!” “God willing, I shall take it down tonight,” he replied. Ali continued pitting his wits against Zurayq until he had tried seven tricks, yet still had not taken the purse. Then he returned the snake-charmer’s clothes and belongings, gave him a reward, and went back to Zurayq’s shop. There he heard him say, “If I leave the purse in the shop overnight, he will break through the wall and take it. I had better carry it home with me.” Zurayq put his shop in order, took down the purse, and tucked it into the bosom of his robe. Ali followed him until they were near his house, where Zurayq saw that his neighbor was holding a wedding feast. He said to himself, “I shall go home, give my wife the purse, change my clothes, and return to the wedding.” He walked on, with Ali following him. Zurayq was married to a black slave woman whom the vizier Ja‘far had freed. She had borne him a son, whom he named Abdallah, and he had promised her that he would use the purse to pay for the boy’s circumcision and marriage celebrations. Zurayq entered the house looking glum, and his wife asked, “Why are you frowning?” He replied, “Our Lord has afflicted me with a rogue who has tried seven tricks on me to get the purse, but he could not take it.” “Give it here,” she said, “so I can put it away for the boy’s celebration.” He gave it to her.

Meanwhile, Ali the Egyptian had hidden in a recess, where he could see and hear everything. Zurayq rose, took off his clothes, put on another suit, and said, “Guard the purse, Umm Abdallah. I am going to the wedding.” “Sleep for an hour first,” she told him. He lay down and slept, and Ali crept forward on tiptoe, took the purse, and went to the wedding house, where he stood watching the festivities. Zurayq dreamed that a bird had snatched away the purse. He woke in terror and said to Umm Abdallah, “Get up and look for the purse!” She went to look, but could not find it. Slapping her face, she cried, “What black misfortune, Umm Abdallah! The rogue has taken the purse!” Zurayq said, “By God, none but Ali the rogue has taken it! No one else could have done so, and I must get it back.” She replied, “If you do not bring it back, I shall lock the door on you and leave you to spend the night in the street.” Zurayq went to the wedding and saw Ali the rogue watching the festivities. “There is the man who took the purse,” he said. “But he is staying in Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall.” He hurried there ahead of Ali, climbed onto the roof, and let himself down inside, where he found them all asleep. Presently Ali arrived and knocked at the door. “Who is there?” Zurayq asked. “Ali the Egyptian.” “Have you brought the purse?” Ali thought it was Shuman and replied, “I have. Open the door.” Zurayq said, “I cannot open it until I have seen the purse, for your chief and I have made a wager.” “Put out your hand,” Ali said. Zurayq put his hand through beside the foot of the door, and Ali gave him the purse. Zurayq took it, climbed out the way he had come, and returned to the wedding. Ali remained standing at the door, but no one opened it. At last he knocked so loudly that the men awoke and said, “That is Ali the Egyptian’s knock.” The captain opened the door and asked, “Have you brought the purse?” Ali replied, “Enough joking, Shuman! Did I not give it to you beside the foot of the door, when you told me you had sworn not to open it until I showed you the purse?” “By God, I never took it,” Shuman said. “It was Zurayq who took it from you.” Ali replied, “Then I must get it back.” He went out toward the wedding, where he heard the wedding jester crying, “Bravo, Abu Abdallah! May your son’s wedding be next!” “Fortune is on my side,” Ali said. He went to Zurayq’s house, climbed over the roof, and let himself down inside. He found the woman asleep, drugged her, put on her clothes, and took the boy in his lap. Searching about, he found a basket containing some feast-day cakes, which Zurayq’s stinginess had preserved. Presently Zurayq came home and knocked. Ali answered, pretending to be the woman, “Who is there?” “Abu Abdallah,” he replied. “Did I not swear that I would not open the door until you brought the purse?” “I have brought it.” “Then hand it over before I open the door.” Zurayq said, “Lower the basket and take it up in that.” Ali lowered the basket, and Zurayq put the purse inside. Ali drew it up, drugged the boy, woke the woman, and escaped by the way he had entered. He made for the hall, went in to the men, and showed them the purse and the child. They praised him, and he gave them the cakes, which they ate. “Shuman,” he said, “this boy is Zurayq’s son. Hide him with you.” Shuman took him and hid him. Ali then brought a sheep, slaughtered it, and gave it to the captain, who cooked it whole, wrapped it in a shroud, and laid it out like a corpse.

Zurayq, meanwhile, remained standing at his door. At last he knocked so loudly that the woman called, “Have you brought the purse?” “Did you not take it in the basket you lowered?” he asked. She replied, “I lowered no basket, saw no purse, and took nothing.” Zurayq said, “By God, Ali the rogue got here before me and took it!” He looked around the house and found the cakes gone and the boy missing. “Alas, my son!” he cried. The woman beat her breast and said, “You and I are going before the vizier! None but that rogue who plays tricks on you has killed my son, and it is all your fault!” Zurayq said, “I answer for his safety.” Then he went out, tied his kerchief about his neck, and made his way to Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall. He knocked, and the captain opened the door. Zurayq went in to the men, and Shuman asked, “What brings you here?” He replied, “I ask you to intercede with Ali the Egyptian, so that he gives me back my son, and I shall forgive him the purse of gold.” Shuman said, “May God reward you as you deserve, Ali! Why did you not tell me he was Zurayq’s son?” “What has happened to him?” Zurayq asked. Shuman replied, “We fed him raisins, and he choked and died. Here he lies.” “Alas, my son!” cried Zurayq. “What shall I tell his mother?” He rose and unwrapped the shroud, only to find a whole cooked sheep. “You have given me a fine fright, Ali!” he said. Then they gave him back his son, and Ahmad al-Danaf said, “You hung up the purse for any rogue clever enough to take it. If a rogue took it, it was to be his by right. So it now belongs to Ali the Egyptian.” “And I freely give it to him,” Zurayq replied. Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian said, “Accept it for the sake of your niece Zaynab.” “I accept it,” he said. They told him, “We have asked for her hand for Ali the Egyptian.” Zurayq replied, “I can only deal fairly with her.” Then he took his son and the purse. Shuman asked, “Have you accepted our proposal?” He answered, “I accept it from anyone who can provide her marriage gift.” “And what is her marriage gift?” Shuman asked. Zurayq replied, “She has sworn that no man shall mount her breast unless he brings her the outfit of Qamar, daughter of Adhra the Jew, and the rest of her finery.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her permitted tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and sixteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that Zurayq said to Shuman, “Zaynab has sworn that no man shall mount her breast unless he brings her the outfit of Qamar, daughter of Adhra the Jew, together with the crown, girdle, and golden slippers.” Ali the Egyptian said, “If I do not bring her outfit this very night, I shall have no claim to her hand.” Zurayq told him, “Ali, you will die if you try your tricks on her.” “Why is that?” he asked. They replied, “Adhra the Jew is a cunning, treacherous sorcerer who commands the jinn. He has a palace outside the kingdom, its walls built of alternating bricks of gold and silver. The palace is visible as long as he sits within it, but whenever he leaves, it vanishes. He has a daughter named Qamar, and he brought her this outfit from a treasure hoard. He puts it on a golden tray, opens the palace windows, and cries, ‘Where are the rogues of Egypt, the gallants of Iraq, and the masters of Persia? Whoever takes the outfit may keep it!’ All the rogues have tried their tricks on him, but none has managed to take it, and he has turned them into monkeys and donkeys.” Ali said, “I must take it, so that Zaynab, daughter of Dalila the Crafty, may appear in all her bridal splendor wearing it.” Then Ali the Egyptian went to the Jew’s shop. He found him a harsh, surly man, with scales, weights, gold, silver, and crucibles before him, and a mule standing nearby. The Jew rose, locked his shop, put the gold and silver into two bags, placed them in a pair of saddlebags, and loaded them onto the mule. Then he mounted and rode out of the city, with Ali the Egyptian following him unseen. The Jew took some dust from a pouch in his pocket, recited an incantation over it, and scattered it in the air. Ali the rogue saw a palace appear whose like had never been seen. The mule carried the Jew up the stairs; it was, in truth, a spirit-servant in his service. He unloaded the saddlebags, and the mule went away and vanished. The Jew sat down in the palace while Ali watched him. He brought out a golden rod, hung a golden tray from it by golden chains, and laid the outfit on the tray. Ali saw it from behind the door. The Jew cried, “Where are the rogues of Egypt, the gallants of Iraq, and the masters of Persia? Whoever can take this outfit by his cunning may keep it!” Then he recited an incantation, and a meal appeared before him. He ate, and the meal cleared itself away. He recited another incantation, and a table of wine appeared before him, and he drank. Ali said to himself, “You will never take this outfit unless he gets drunk.” He crept up behind him and drew his steel blade. The Jew turned, uttered a spell, and said to his hand, “Remain still with the sword!” His hand froze in the air, holding the blade. He stretched out his left hand, and that too froze in the air, as did his right leg, leaving him standing on one foot. Then the Jew released him from the spell, and Ali the Egyptian became as he had been before.

The Jew cast a figure in the sand and learned that his name was Ali al-Zaybaq the Egyptian. He turned to him and said, “Come here. Who are you, and what is your business?” Ali replied, “I am Ali the Egyptian, one of Ahmad al-Danaf’s men. I have asked for the hand of Zaynab, daughter of Dalila the Crafty, and they have made your daughter’s outfit her marriage gift. Give it to me if you wish to remain safe and sound.” The Jew replied, “Only over your dead body! Many men have tried their tricks on me to take this outfit, but none has succeeded. If you heed my advice, you will save yourself. They have only asked you for the outfit to bring about your destruction. Had I not seen that your fortune is stronger than mine, I would have struck off your head.” Ali rejoiced to hear that the Jew had found his fortune stronger, and said, “I must have the outfit, if you wish to remain unharmed.” The Jew asked, “Is that your determination, then?” “It is,” Ali replied. The Jew took a bowl, filled it with water, recited an incantation over it, and said, “Leave your human form and take the shape of a donkey!” He sprinkled him with the water, and Ali became a donkey with hooves and long ears, braying like any other donkey. The Jew traced a circle around him, which became a wall enclosing him, and went on drinking until morning. “I shall ride you,” he said, “and give the mule a rest.”

Then the Jew put the outfit, tray, rod, and chains into a storeroom, came out, and recited an incantation over Ali. Ali followed him, and he loaded the saddlebags onto his back and mounted him. The palace vanished from sight, and the Jew rode him to his shop, where he emptied the bags of gold and silver into the crucible before him. Ali stood tethered in the shape of a donkey. He could hear and understand, but could not speak. Presently there came a merchant’s son upon whom hard times had fallen. Finding no occupation he could readily take up except carrying water, he had taken his wife’s bracelets and brought them to the Jew. “Give me the price of these bracelets,” he said, “so that I may buy a donkey.” The Jew asked, “What will you load on it?” He replied, “Master, I shall fetch water from the river and live on what I earn by selling it.” “Buy this donkey of mine,” the Jew said. The man sold him the bracelets, bought the donkey with part of the price, and received the balance from the Jew. Then he led Ali the Egyptian, still enchanted, to his house. Ali said to himself, “Once this donkey-driver loads you with a wooden frame and a waterskin, ten journeys will wear you out and kill you.” The water-carrier’s wife came forward to give him his fodder. Ali struck her with his head, knocking her onto her back, then leapt upon her, battered her head with his muzzle, and let hang the member his father had bequeathed him. She screamed, and the neighbors hurried in, beat him, and dragged him off her chest. When her husband, who meant to become a water-carrier, came home, she said, “Either divorce me or return this donkey to its owner!” “What has happened?” he asked. She replied, “This is a devil in the shape of a donkey! He jumped on me, and if the neighbors had not pulled him off my chest, he would have done something shameful to me.” The man took him back to the Jew, who asked, “Why have you returned him?” “He behaved shamefully with my wife,” the man replied. The Jew gave him back his money, and he went away. Then the Jew turned to Ali and said, “So you resorted to trickery, you ill-omened wretch, until he brought you back to me!” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her permitted tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and seventeenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when the water-carrier returned the donkey to the Jew, he gave him back his money, then turned to Ali the Egyptian and said, “So you resorted to trickery, you ill-omened wretch, until he brought you back to me! Since you were not content to be a donkey, I shall make you a spectacle for young and old.” He mounted the donkey, rode out of the city, took out some ashes, recited an incantation over them, and scattered them in the air. The palace appeared. He went up into it, unloaded the saddlebags from the donkey, took out the two bags of money, and brought out the rod. He hung the tray with the outfit upon it and cried, as he did every day, “Where are the rogues from every land? Who can take this outfit?” He recited his incantations as before, and a meal was set before him. He ate, recited another spell, and wine appeared. When he was drunk, he brought out a bowl of water, recited an incantation over it, sprinkled the donkey, and said, “Leave this shape and return to your former one!” Ali became a man again, and the Jew said, “Ali, take my advice and spare yourself my wrath. You have no need to marry Zaynab or take my daughter’s outfit. It will not be easy for you, and you would do better to abandon your greed. Otherwise I shall turn you into a bear or a monkey, or set a spirit-servant upon you to fling you beyond Mount Qaf.” Ali replied, “Adhra, I have pledged myself to take the outfit, and take it I must. Give it up and remain unharmed, or I shall kill you.” The Jew said, “Ali, you are like a walnut: there is no eating you until you are cracked.” He took a bowl of water, recited an incantation over it, sprinkled Ali, and said, “Take the form of a bear!” Ali became a bear at once. The Jew put a collar around his neck, bound his muzzle, and tethered him to an iron stake. Then he ate, tossing him a few morsels and pouring the dregs of his cup over him.

When morning came, the Jew rose, put away the tray and outfit, and recited an incantation over the bear, which followed him to his shop. He sat down, emptied the gold and silver into the crucible, and fastened the chain around the bear’s neck to the shop. Ali could hear and understand, but could not speak. Presently a merchant approached the Jew and said, “Master, will you sell me this bear? My wife, who is also my cousin, has been prescribed bear’s meat to eat and bear’s fat to rub on her skin.” The Jew rejoiced and said to himself, “I shall sell it to him so that he slaughters it, and we shall be rid of him.” Ali thought, “By God, this man means to slaughter me! Deliverance lies with God alone.” The Jew said, “Take it as a gift from me.” The merchant took the bear and stopped at a butcher’s shop. “Bring your tools and come with me,” he said. The butcher took his knives and followed him. Then he went up to the bear, bound him, and began sharpening his knife, meaning to slaughter him. When Ali the Egyptian saw him approaching, he escaped from before him and flew through the air between earth and sky, until he came down in the Jew’s palace.

The reason for this was that the Jew had gone to the palace after giving the bear to the merchant. His daughter questioned him, and he told her everything that had happened. She said, “Summon a spirit-servant and ask him whether this is Ali the Egyptian or another man playing a trick.” He recited an incantation, summoned a spirit-servant, and asked, “Is this Ali the Egyptian, or another man playing a trick?” The spirit snatched Ali away, brought him back, and said, “This is indeed Ali the Egyptian. The butcher had bound him and sharpened his knife, and was beginning to slaughter him, so I snatched him from his hands and brought him here.” The Jew took a bowl of water, recited an incantation over it, sprinkled him, and said, “Return to your human form!” Ali became as he had been before. Qamar, the Jew’s daughter, saw that he was a handsome young man and fell in love with him, while he too fell in love with her. She said, “You unfortunate man, why do you seek my outfit, so that my father treats you in this fashion?” He replied, “I have pledged myself to get it for Zaynab the trickster, so that I may marry her.” She said, “Others have tried their tricks on my father to take my outfit, but none has succeeded. Give up your greed.” He replied, “I must take it. Your father may surrender it and remain safe, or I shall kill him.” Her father said, “Look, daughter, how this wretch seeks his own destruction!” Then he told Ali, “I shall turn you into a dog.” He took an inscribed bowl containing water, recited an incantation over it, sprinkled him, and said, “Take the form of a dog!” Ali became a dog, and the Jew and his daughter drank until morning. Then the Jew rose, put away the outfit and tray, mounted the mule, and recited an incantation over the dog, which followed him. The other dogs began barking at Ali. As he passed a grocer’s shop, the grocer rose and drove them away, and Ali lay down before him. The Jew looked around but could not find him. The grocer closed his shop and went home, with the dog following him. When he entered his house, his daughter saw the dog, covered her face, and said, “Father, would you bring a strange man into our home?” “Daughter,” he replied, “this is a dog.” She said, “This is Ali the Egyptian. The Jew has bewitched him.” Her father turned to him and asked, “Are you Ali the Egyptian?” He nodded yes. The grocer asked his daughter, “Why did the Jew bewitch him?” She replied, “Because of his daughter Qamar’s outfit. I can release him.” “If you can do a good deed,” he said, “now is the time.” She replied, “If he will marry me, I shall release him.” Ali nodded yes. She took an inscribed bowl and recited an incantation over it, but suddenly there came a loud scream, and the bowl fell from her hand. She turned and saw that it was her father’s slave girl who had screamed. The girl said, “My lady, is this the agreement between us? Was it not I who taught you this art? Did you not agree to do nothing without consulting me, and that whoever married you would marry me as well, with one night for me and one night for you?” “Yes,” she replied. When the grocer heard this, he asked his daughter, “Who taught this slave girl?” She replied, “Father, she taught me. Ask her who taught her.” He questioned the girl, and she said, “Know, master, that when I belonged to Adhra the Jew, I used to steal up and listen while he recited his incantations. When he went to his shop, I would open his books and read them, until I mastered the science of spirits. One day the Jew became drunk and summoned me to his bed. I refused, saying, ‘I shall not let you have your way with me until you become a Muslim.’ He refused, so I said, ‘Then take me to the sultan’s market.’ He sold me to you, and I came to your house. I taught my mistress, on condition that she should do nothing without consulting me, and that whoever married her should marry me too, with one night for me and one night for her.” The slave girl took a bowl of water, recited an incantation over it, sprinkled the dog, and said, “Return to your human form!” Ali became a man again. The grocer greeted him and asked why he had been bewitched, and Ali told him everything that had happened. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her permitted tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and eighteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when the grocer greeted Ali the Egyptian and asked why he had been bewitched and what had befallen him, Ali told him the whole story. The grocer asked, “Will my daughter and the slave girl not suffice you?” Ali replied, “I must have Zaynab.” Just then someone knocked at the door. “Who is there?” the slave girl asked. “Qamar, the Jew’s daughter,” came the reply. “Is Ali the Egyptian with you?” The grocer’s daughter said, “Jew’s daughter, what would you do with him if he were here? Go down, girl, and open the door for her.” The slave girl opened the door, and Qamar entered. When she and Ali saw one another, he said, “What brings you here, daughter of a dog?” She replied, “I bear witness that there is no god but God, and I bear witness that Muhammad is the Messenger of God.” Thus she became a Muslim, then asked, “In the faith of Islam, do men give marriage gifts to women, or women to men?” He replied, “Men give marriage gifts to women.” She said, “I have come to offer myself to you, bringing as my marriage gift the outfit, the rod, the chains, and the head of my father, your enemy and the enemy of God.” She cast her father’s head before him and said, “This is the head of my father, your enemy and the enemy of God.”

The reason she had killed her father was that, after he turned Ali into a dog, she had dreamed of a voice saying to her, “Become a Muslim.” She had embraced Islam, and when she awoke she urged her father to do the same, but he refused. When he refused Islam, she drugged and killed him. Ali took the things and said to the grocer, “Tomorrow we shall meet before the caliph, so that I may marry your daughter and the slave girl.” He went out joyfully, making for the hall with the treasures. Presently he came upon a confectioner clapping his hands and saying, “There is no power and no strength save in God, the Most High, the Almighty! People’s earnings have become unlawful, and all their efforts go into cheating. I ask you by God to taste this sweetmeat!” Ali took a piece and ate it, but it contained a drug. The confectioner drugged him, took the outfit, rod, and chains, and put them inside his sweetmeat chest. Then he shouldered the chest and the tray of sweets and went on his way. Presently a qadi called out to him, “Come here, confectioner!” He stopped, set down his stand, placed the tray upon it, and asked, “What would you like?” “Sweetmeats and sugar-coated nuts,” the qadi replied. He took a little of each in his hand and said, “These sweetmeats and sugar-coated nuts are adulterated.” Then he took some sweetmeats from the bosom of his robe and said, “Look at this workmanship! How fine it is! Taste some and make them like this.” The confectioner took a piece and ate it, but it was drugged. The qadi drugged him, took the stand, the chest, the outfit, and the other things, put the confectioner into the stand, and carried everything to the hall where al-Danaf was staying. Now the qadi was Hasan Shuman. What had happened was that, after Ali pledged himself to obtain the outfit and went out in search of it, they heard no news of him. Ahmad al-Danaf said, “Lads, go out and search for your brother Ali the Egyptian.” They went out to look for him in the city. Hasan Shuman went disguised as a qadi, met the confectioner, and recognized him as Ahmad al-Laqit. So he drugged him and carried him off to the hall, along with the outfit.

Meanwhile, the forty were searching the city streets. Ali Camel-Shoulder left his companions and saw a crowd. He approached the gathering and found Ali the Egyptian lying drugged among them. He gave him an antidote, and when Ali came to, he saw the people standing around him. Ali Camel-Shoulder said, “Come to your senses!” “Where am I?” Ali asked. Ali Camel-Shoulder and his companions replied, “We found you drugged, but we do not know who drugged you.” He said, “A confectioner drugged me and took my things. But where has he gone?” They replied, “We saw no one. Come back to the hall with us.” They went to the hall and entered, finding Ahmad al-Danaf there. He greeted them and said, “Ali, have you brought the outfit?” Ali replied, “I brought it and the other things, and I brought the Jew’s head. But a confectioner met me, drugged me, and took them from me.” He told him everything that had happened, then said, “If I saw that confectioner, I would repay him!” Just then Hasan Shuman came out of a side room and asked, “Have you brought the things, Ali?” He replied, “I brought them, and I brought the Jew’s head. But a confectioner met me, drugged me, and took the outfit and the rest. I do not know where he went. If I knew where he was, I would make him suffer. Do you know where that confectioner has gone?” “I know where he is,” Shuman replied. He rose and opened the side room, and Ali saw the confectioner lying drugged inside. They revived him, and he opened his eyes to find himself before Ali the Egyptian, Ahmad al-Danaf, and the forty. He collapsed in fright and cried, “Where am I? Who caught me?” Shuman replied, “I caught you.” Ali the Egyptian said, “You cunning rogue! Is this how you behave?” He was about to cut his throat, but Hasan Shuman said, “Stay your hand! He is now your kinsman by marriage.” “My kinsman by marriage?” Ali exclaimed. “How so?” Shuman replied, “This is Ahmad al-Laqit, the son of Zaynab’s sister.” Ali said, “Why did you do this, Laqit?” He replied, “My grandmother Dalila the Crafty ordered me to. Zurayq the fishmonger met my grandmother and told her, ‘Ali the Egyptian is a rogue of surpassing skill. He is certain to kill the Jew and bring the outfit.’ She sent for me and asked, ‘Ahmad, do you know Ali the Egyptian?’ I replied, ‘I know him. I was the one who showed him the way to Ahmad al-Danaf’s hall.’ She told me, ‘Go and lay a trap for him. If he has brought the things, play a trick on him and take them away.’ So I wandered through the city streets until I saw a confectioner. I gave him ten dinars and took his clothes, his sweetmeats, and his equipment. Then what happened, happened.”

Ali the Egyptian said to Ahmad al-Laqit, “Go to your grandmother and Zurayq the fishmonger. Tell them I have brought the treasures and the Jew’s head, and say, ‘Meet him tomorrow in the caliph’s court and receive Zaynab’s marriage gift from him.’” Ahmad al-Danaf rejoiced and said, “My training has not been wasted on you, Ali!” When morning came, Ali the Egyptian took the outfit, the tray, the rod, the golden chains, and the head of Adhra the Jew mounted on a lance. He went up to the court with his uncle and his men, and they kissed the ground before the caliph. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her permitted tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and nineteenth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that when Ali went up to the court with his uncle Ahmad al-Danaf and his men, they kissed the ground before the caliph. The caliph turned and saw a young man whose courage no other man could surpass, and asked the company who he was. Ahmad al-Danaf replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, this is Ali al-Zaybaq of Egypt, chief of the young adventurers of Cairo and foremost among my men.” The caliph took a liking to him at once, for he saw courage shining from his brow, bearing witness in his favor, not against him. Then Ali rose and cast the Jew’s head before the caliph, saying, “May your enemy fare like this, O Commander of the Faithful!” The caliph asked, “Whose head is this?” He answered, “The head of Adhra the Jew.” “And who killed him?” asked the caliph. So Ali the Egyptian related everything that had happened to him from beginning to end. The caliph said, “I would never have thought you could kill him, for he was a sorcerer.” Ali replied, “O Commander of the Faithful, my Lord gave me the power to kill him.” The caliph sent the governor to the palace, where he found the Jew’s headless body. He placed it in a coffin and brought it before the caliph, who ordered it burned. Just then Qamar, the Jew’s daughter, came forward and kissed the ground before the caliph. She told him that she was Adhra’s daughter and had embraced Islam, then renewed her profession of faith in his presence. She said to him, “Intercede for me with the adventurer Ali al-Zaybaq of Egypt, that he may marry me.” She appointed the caliph her representative in arranging her marriage to Ali, and the caliph bestowed on Ali the Egyptian the Jew’s palace and all it contained. “Ask a boon of me,” he said. Ali replied, “My wish is to stand upon your carpet and eat at your table.” The caliph asked, “Ali, have you any men?” He answered, “I have forty, but they are in Egypt.” “Send for them to come from Egypt,” said the caliph. Then he asked, “Ali, have you a house?” “No,” he replied. Hasan Shuman said, “I have given him my house and all it contains, O Commander of the Faithful.” But the caliph said, “Your house is yours, Hasan.” He ordered the treasurer to give the master builder ten thousand dinars to build Ali a house with four iwans and forty chambers for his men. Then the caliph asked, “Ali, is there anything else you need that we may order it done?” He replied, “O King of the Age, intercede for me with Dalila the Crafty, that she may give me her daughter Zaynab in marriage and accept the Jew’s daughter’s dress and possessions as her dowry.” Dalila accepted the caliph’s intercession and took the tray, the dress, the reed, and the gold chains. They drew up Ali’s marriage contract with Zaynab, and likewise his contracts with al-Saqati’s daughter, the slave girl, and Qamar, the Jew’s daughter. The caliph assigned him a salary, ordered a table to be spread for him at midday and another in the evening, and granted him rations, fodder, and an allowance. Ali the Egyptian then began his wedding festivities, which continued for thirty full days.

Then Ali the Egyptian sent his men in Egypt a letter telling them of the honors the caliph had bestowed upon him. He wrote, “You must come and share in the festivities, for I have married four maidens.” Before long his forty men arrived and joined the celebrations. He settled them in the house and treated them with the utmost generosity, then presented them to the caliph, who bestowed robes of honor upon them. The bridal attendants displayed Zaynab before Ali the Egyptian in her wedding dress. When he went in to her, he found her a pearl unpierced, a filly no other man had ridden. Afterward he went in to the other three maidens and found them perfect in grace and beauty. Now it happened one night that Ali the Egyptian stayed late with the caliph, who said to him, “Ali, I wish you to tell me everything that has happened to you, from beginning to end.” So he told him all that had passed between him and Dalila the Crafty, Zaynab the Trickster, and Zurayq the Fishmonger. The caliph ordered the account to be written down and placed in the royal treasury. They recorded all that had befallen him and set it among the tales preserved for the people of the Best of Mankind. Thereafter they lived in the greatest comfort and happiness, until there came to them the Destroyer of Delights and the Sunderer of Companies. And God, glorified and exalted be He, knows best.