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It is also related, O fortunate King, that in the days of the Caliph Harun al-Rashid there lived a man named Ahmad al-Danaf and another named Hasan Shuman. Both were masters of cunning and trickery, and many were their astonishing exploits. On account of these, the Caliph bestowed a robe of honor upon Ahmad al-Danaf and appointed him captain of the right wing, and bestowed another upon Hasan Shuman and appointed him captain of the left. To each he assigned a monthly stipend of a thousand dinars and forty men to serve under him. Above was inscribed: “Ahmad al-Danaf, Guardian of the Land.” Then Ahmad al-Danaf rode out with Hasan Shuman and their men, accompanied by the governor, Emir Khalid, while a herald proclaimed, as the Caliph had commanded: “There is no captain of Baghdad’s right wing but Captain Ahmad al-Danaf, and no captain of its left wing but Hasan Shuman. Their word must be obeyed and their persons held in honor.” Now in the city there lived an old woman called Dalila the Crafty, who had a daughter named Zaynab the Trickster. When they heard this proclamation, Zaynab said to her mother, “Look, Mother! This Ahmad al-Danaf came here driven out of Egypt, and played his tricks in Baghdad until he gained the Caliph’s favor and became captain of the right wing. And that bald-headed fellow Hasan Shuman has become captain of the left! He has a table spread for him morning and evening, and each of them receives a thousand dinars a month, while we sit idle in this house, with neither rank nor respect, and no one to ask after us.” Dalila’s husband had formerly been a captain in Baghdad, receiving a thousand dinars a month from the Caliph. When he died, he left two daughters: one was married and had a son called Ahmad the Foundling; the other was unmarried and was called Zaynab the Trickster. Dalila was a mistress of stratagems, deceit, and swindles. She could coax a serpent out of its hole, and Iblis himself learned cunning from her. Her husband had been the Caliph’s keeper of pigeons, with a stipend of a thousand dinars a month. He raised the carrier pigeons that bore letters and messages, and in time of need each bird was dearer to the Caliph than one of his own children. Zaynab said to her mother, “Come, devise some tricks and swindles! Perhaps we shall win a name for ourselves in Baghdad and obtain our father’s stipend.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the six hundred and ninety-ninth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when Zaynab the Trickster said to her mother, “Come, devise some tricks and swindles for us! Perhaps we shall become famous in Baghdad and obtain our father’s stipend,” Dalila replied, “By your life, my daughter, I shall play tricks in Baghdad greater than those of Ahmad al-Danaf and Hasan Shuman!” She rose, veiled her face, and dressed herself like a poor Sufi, in a garment reaching to her ankles and a woolen gown, with a broad girdle about her waist. She took a ewer, filled it with water up to its neck, put three dinars in its spout, and stopped it with a piece of loofah. About her neck she hung a string of prayer beads as large as a load of firewood, and in her hand she took a banner hung with red and yellow rags. Then she went out, crying, “Allah!” Her tongue uttered praises while her heart raced through the fields of wickedness. She began looking about for some trick to play in the city, passing from alley to alley until she reached one that was swept and sprinkled with water and paved with marble. There she saw an arched doorway with a marble threshold, and a Maghribi doorkeeper standing before it. The house belonged to the chief of the Caliph’s sergeants, a man with farmlands, estates, and a handsome stipend. His name was Hasan Sharr al-Tariq, or Hasan the Terror of the Road, so called because his blow came before his word. He had married a beautiful young woman whom he loved dearly, and on their wedding night she had made him swear never to take another wife or spend a night away from home. One day, however, her husband went to the council and saw that every emir had a son or two with him. He had been to the bath and, looking in the mirror, had seen that the white hairs of his beard outnumbered the black. He said to himself, “Will He who took your father away grant you no son?” Then he went in to his wife in a rage. “Good evening,” she said. “Get out of my sight!” he replied. “Since the day I first saw you, I have seen no good.” “Why is that?” she asked. He said, “On our wedding night you made me swear not to marry another. Today I saw the emirs, each with a son, and some with two. I thought of death, for I have been granted neither son nor daughter, and a man who leaves no offspring leaves no remembrance. That is why I am angry: you are barren and cannot conceive by me.” She replied, “God preserve you! I have worn through mortars pounding wool and medicinal herbs, and it is no fault of mine. The trouble lies with you, for you are a flat-nosed mule, and your seed is watery: it can neither cause conception nor beget children.” “When I return from my journey,” he said, “I shall take another wife.” “My lot rests with God,” she replied.

He left her, and they both regretted the reproaches they had exchanged. Now, as his wife was looking out of her window, adorned like a bride and laden with a treasure of jewelry, Dalila happened to be standing below and caught sight of her. Seeing her jewels and costly clothes, she said to herself, “Dalila, there is no finer trick than to lure this young woman from her husband’s house, strip her of her jewels and clothes, and take them all.” So she stood beneath the palace window, chanting the name of God and crying, “Allah! Allah!” The young woman saw the old crone dressed all in white, like a dome of light, in the guise of a Sufi, calling, “Come, O saints of God!” The women of the neighborhood leaned out of their windows. “For the sake of God, grant us your aid!” they said. “This is a holy woman whose face shines with light.” Then Khatun, the wife of Emir Hasan, wept and said to her maid, “Go down, kiss the hand of Shaykh Abu Ali the doorkeeper, and ask him to let the holy woman in, so that we may receive her blessing.” The maid went down, kissed his hand, and said, “My mistress asks you to let this holy woman come up to her, so that we may receive her blessing.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundredth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when the maid went down to the doorkeeper and said, “My mistress asks you to let this holy woman come up to her, so that she may receive her blessing, and perhaps it will extend to us all,” the doorkeeper approached Dalila and kissed her hand. But she drew back, saying, “Keep away from me, lest you break my ablution. You too are one of the enraptured, watched over by the saints. May God deliver you from this service, Abu Ali!” Now the emir owed the doorkeeper three months’ wages, and the poor man was in need but did not know how to recover them. He said to her, “Mother, give me a drink from your ewer, that I may receive your blessing.” She took the ewer from beneath her arm, swung it through the air, and shook her hand until the loofah flew from the spout and the three dinars fell to the ground. The doorkeeper saw them, picked them up, and said to himself, “A blessing from God! This holy woman has miraculous powers. She has read my secret and knows that I need money, so she has conjured three dinars out of the air for me.” Holding them in his hand, he said, “Take these three dinars, Aunt; they fell from your ewer.” “Keep them away from me,” the old woman replied. “I belong to those who have no concern with worldly things. Take them and ease your circumstances, in place of what the emir owes you.” “For God’s sake, grant us your aid!” he cried. “This is indeed a revelation of hidden things!”

Then the maid kissed her hand and brought her up to her mistress. On entering, Dalila saw the lady, who was like a treasure whose magic seals had been broken. The young woman welcomed her and kissed her hand. “My daughter,” Dalila said, “I have come to you only at a prompting from above.” The lady offered her food, but she said, “My daughter, I eat only the food of Paradise. I fast continually and break my fast only five days in the year. But I see that you are troubled, my daughter, and I wish you to tell me the cause.” She replied, “Mother, on my wedding night I made my husband swear that he would marry no one else. Then he saw other men’s children and longed for children of his own. He said to me, ‘You are barren,’ and I told him, ‘You are a mule who cannot beget children.’ He went away angry, saying, ‘When I return from my journey, I shall take another wife.’ I am afraid, Mother, that he will divorce me and marry someone else. He has estates, farmlands, and a handsome stipend, and if he has children by another woman, they will take possession of the wealth and lands instead of me.” Dalila said, “My daughter, have you never heard of my shaykh, Abu al-Hamalat, the Bearer of Burdens? No debtor visits him without God paying his debts, and if a barren woman visits him, she conceives.” “Mother,” she replied, “since my wedding day I have never gone out, either to offer condolences or congratulations.” The old woman said, “My daughter, I shall take you with me to visit Abu al-Hamalat. Lay your burden upon him and make a vow to him. Perhaps when your husband returns from his journey and lies with you, you will conceive a girl or a boy. Whatever child you bear, male or female, shall become a devotee of Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat.” The young woman rose, put on all her jewelry and her finest clothes, and said to the maid, “Keep watch over the house.” “I hear and obey, my lady,” she replied.

Then she went downstairs, where Shaykh Abu Ali the doorkeeper met her. “Where are you going, my lady?” he asked. “I am going to visit Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat,” she replied. The doorkeeper said, “May I be bound to fast a whole year if this holy woman is not one of God’s saints, filled with sanctity! My lady, she has miraculous powers. She gave me three dinars of red gold, reading my secret without my asking and knowing that I was in need.” So the old woman went out with the young wife of Emir Hasan Sharr al-Tariq. Dalila the Crafty said to her, “God willing, my daughter, when you visit Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat, your heart will be comforted and, by Almighty God’s leave, you will conceive. Through this shaykh’s blessing your husband, Emir Hasan, will love you and never again speak a word to wound your feelings.” “I shall visit him, Mother,” she replied. Then the old woman said to herself, “How am I to strip her and take her clothes with people coming and going?” So she said, “My daughter, when I walk on, follow behind, only close enough to keep me in sight. Your mother bears many burdens, and everyone who has a burden lays it upon me; everyone who has made a vow brings me his offering and kisses my hand.” Thus the young woman followed at a distance, with the old woman walking ahead, until they reached the merchants’ market, her anklets ringing and her braided tresses rustling. They passed the shop of a merchant’s son called Sidi Hasan, a handsome youth whose whiskers had only just begun to grow. Seeing the young woman approach, he began casting sidelong glances at her. When the old woman noticed this, she winked at the young woman and said, “Sit here by this shop until I come back.” She obeyed and sat down in front of the merchant’s son’s shop. He cast her a glance that brought a thousand sighs in its wake. Then the old woman went up to him, greeted him, and said, “Are you Sidi Hasan, son of the merchant Muhsin?” “Yes,” he replied. “Who told you my name?” “Good people directed me to you,” she said. “You must know that this young woman is my daughter. Her father was a merchant, and when he died he left her a great fortune. She is of marriageable age, and wise men say, ‘Seek a husband for your daughter, not a wife for your son.’ She has never gone out before today. A sign has been given to me, and in my heart I have resolved to marry her to you. If you are poor, I shall give you capital and set you up with two shops instead of one.” The merchant’s son said to himself, “I asked God for a bride, and He has bestowed three things upon me: a purse, a pussy, and fine apparel!” Then he said to her, “Mother, your proposal could not be better. My mother has often told me, ‘I want to find you a wife,’ but I would never consent, saying, ‘I shall marry only a woman I have seen with my own eyes.’” “Get up and follow me,” the old woman said, “and I shall show her to you naked.” He rose to go with her, taking a thousand dinars, and said to himself, “Perhaps we shall need to buy something.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundred and first night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the old woman said to Hasan, son of the merchant Muhsin, “Get up and follow me, and I shall show her to you naked.” He rose to go with her, taking a thousand dinars, and said to himself, “Perhaps we shall need to buy something and pay the fee for drawing up the marriage contract.” Then the old woman told him, “Keep well behind her, only close enough to see her.” She said to herself, “Where will you take the merchant’s son, now that he has shut his shop, so that you can strip both him and the young woman?” Then she walked on, the young woman following her and the merchant’s son following the young woman, until she came to a dye shop kept by a certain well-known man called Hajj Muhammad. He was like a knife for cutting taro, which cuts male and female alike: he liked to eat both figs and pomegranates. Hearing the jingle of anklets, he raised his eyes and saw the young woman and the youth. The old woman sat down beside him, greeted him, and said, “Are you Hajj Muhammad the dyer?” “Yes, I am Hajj Muhammad,” he replied. “What do you want?” She said, “Good people directed me to you. Look at this beautiful young woman, my daughter, and this handsome beardless youth, my son. I have brought them up and spent a great deal of money on them. Now I have a large house, but it has begun to fall apart, and I have shored it up with timber. The builder told me, ‘Live somewhere else while you repair it, lest it fall upon you. Afterward you can return and live in it.’ So I went out to look for a place, and good people directed me to you. I wish to lodge my daughter and son with you.” The dyer said to himself, “Here is butter come to your pancake!” Then he said to her, “It is true that I have a house, a hall, and an upper room, but I must keep some space for my guests and the farmers who supply me with indigo.” “My son,” she replied, “it will be a month or two at most, until we repair the house. We are strangers here, so let the guest quarters be shared between us. By your life, my son, if you wish your guests to be our guests, they are most welcome! We shall eat with them and sleep with them.” So he gave her three keys, one large, one small, and one crooked, saying, “The large key is for the house, the crooked one for the hall, and the small one for the upper room.”

She took the keys and went on, followed by the young woman, with the merchant’s son behind her, until she reached an alley. Finding the door, she opened it and went in with the young woman. “My daughter,” she said, pointing to the hall, “this is the house of Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat. But go upstairs and take off your outer wrap until I come to you.” The young woman went into the upper room and sat down. Then the merchant’s son arrived, and the old woman met him, saying, “Sit in the hall until I bring my daughter for you to see.” He went in and sat down, while the old woman returned to the young woman, who said, “I want to visit Abu al-Hamalat before the people come.” “My daughter,” she replied, “there is danger for you.” “What danger?” she asked. “My son is down there,” said Dalila. “He is a simpleton who cannot tell summer from winter and always goes naked. He is the shaykh’s attendant. If a girl like you goes in to visit the shaykh, he seizes her earrings and tears her ears, and rips her silken clothes. So take off your jewels and clothes, and I shall keep them safe while you make your visit.” The young woman took off her jewels and clothes and gave them to the old woman, who said, “I shall lay them on the shaykh’s covering, so that you may receive a blessing.” She took them away, leaving the young woman in her shift and drawers, and hid them in a place on the stairs. Then she went in to the merchant’s son and found him waiting for the young woman. “Where is your daughter?” he asked. “Let me see her.” The old woman struck her breast. “What is wrong?” he asked. She replied, “May wicked neighbors never prosper, and may envious neighbors cease to be! They saw you come in with me and asked about you. I told them, ‘I have found this bridegroom for my daughter.’ They envied me my good fortune and said to her, ‘Has your mother grown so tired of keeping you that she would marry you to a man with a disease?’ So I swore to her that I would not let her see you unless you were naked.” “I seek refuge in God from the envious!” he said, baring his arms, which she saw were like silver. “Have no fear,” she told him. “I shall let you see her naked, just as she will see you naked.” “Let her come and look at me,” he said. He took off his sable coat, his belt, his dagger, and all his clothes until he was in his shirt and drawers, placing the thousand dinars among his belongings. “Give me your things to keep safe,” she said. She took them and laid them beside the young woman’s clothes, then gathered everything up, went out through the door, locked it upon the pair, and went on her way. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundred and second night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that when the old woman had taken the belongings of the merchant’s son and the young woman, locked the door upon them, and gone on her way, she left her spoils with a seller of perfumes and drugs and returned to the dyer. Finding him sitting there waiting for her, she heard him say, “God willing, the house pleased you?” “It is a blessed place,” she replied. “I am going to fetch porters to carry our belongings and bedding. My children have asked me for bread and meat, so take this dinar, buy them some, and go and have dinner with them.” “Who will watch the dye shop and the customers’ goods?” the dyer asked. “Your apprentice,” she replied. “So be it,” he said. Then he took a dish and a cover and went to get the dinner.

Such was the case with the dyer, whose story we shall return to. As for the old woman, she fetched the belongings of the young woman and the merchant’s son from the druggist, entered the dye shop, and said to the apprentice, “Go after your master. I shall stay here until you both return.” “I hear and obey,” he replied. Then she gathered up everything in the shop. Just then a donkey driver who smoked hashish, and who had been without work for a week, happened to pass. “Come here, donkey driver!” she called. He came over, and she asked, “Do you know the dyer’s son?” “I know him,” he replied. “The poor man has gone bankrupt,” she said, “and is deep in debt. Whenever he is imprisoned, I get him released, and now we wish to establish his insolvency. I am going to return these goods to their owners, and I want you to lend me your donkey to carry them. Take this dinar for its hire. After I leave, take the scoop and empty the vats, then break the vats and jars, so that if an inspector comes from the judge, he will find nothing in the dye shop.” “The master has been good to me,” he replied. “I shall do this for God’s sake.” So she took the goods, loaded them onto the donkey, spread a cover over them, and made her way home to her daughter Zaynab. “My heart has been with you, Mother,” her daughter said. “What tricks have you played?” “I have played four tricks on four people,” she replied: “a merchant’s son, a sergeant’s wife, a dyer, and a donkey driver. I have brought you all their belongings on the donkey driver’s donkey.” “Mother,” said Zaynab, “you will no longer be able to walk about the city, between the sergeant whose wife’s belongings you took, the merchant’s son you stripped, the dyer whose customers’ goods you stole from his shop, and the donkey driver who owns the donkey.” “Ah, my daughter,” she replied, “the only one I fear is the donkey driver, for he knows me.”

As for the master dyer, he prepared the bread and meat, had his servant carry it on his head, and passed by the dye shop. There he saw the donkey driver smashing the vats. Not a piece of cloth or any other article remained, and the shop was in ruins. “Stop, donkey driver!” he cried. The man stopped and said, “Praise be to God for your safe return, Master! My heart has been troubled for you.” “Why?” he asked. “What has happened to me?” “You have gone bankrupt,” the man replied, “and they have drawn up a certificate of your insolvency.” “Who told you that?” he asked. “Your mother told me,” he replied. “She ordered me to break the vats and empty the jars, for fear the inspector might come and find something in the shop.” “May God confound that wretch!” cried the dyer. “My mother died long ago!” He beat his breast and cried, “Alas for my money and other people’s goods!” The donkey driver began to weep. “Alas for my donkey!” he cried. Then he said to the dyer, “Get me my donkey back from your mother!” The dyer seized him and began punching him, crying, “Bring me the old woman!” “Bring me my donkey!” the other replied. And a crowd gathered around them. But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundred and third night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that the dyer seized the donkey driver, and the donkey driver seized the dyer, and they began fighting, each laying his claim against the other. A crowd gathered, and one man asked, “What is the matter, Master Muhammad?” The donkey driver said, “I shall tell you the story.” He related what had happened to him and said, “I thought the master would thank me, but when he saw me he beat his breast and said, ‘My mother is dead!’ Now I demand my donkey from him, for he played this trick on me to make me lose it.” The people asked, “Master Muhammad, do you know this old woman, then, since you entrusted your dye shop and all its contents to her?” “I do not know her,” he replied. “She and her son and daughter only took lodgings with me today.” One man said, “I maintain that the dyer is responsible for the donkey.” “On what grounds?” he was asked. “Because the donkey driver only trusted the old woman and gave her his donkey after seeing that the dyer had entrusted her with his shop and everything in it.” Another said, “Master, since you lodged her in your house, you must recover his donkey for him.” Then they all set off for the house, and we shall return to their story.

Meanwhile the merchant’s son had waited for the old woman to bring her daughter, but she had not come. The young woman too had waited for her to return with permission from her enraptured son, the attendant of Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat, but she had not come back. So the young woman rose to make her visit. As she entered, the merchant’s son said, “Come here! Where is your mother, who brought me here to marry you?” “My mother is dead,” she replied. “Are you her enraptured son, the attendant of Shaykh Abu al-Hamalat?” “She is no mother of mine!” he said. “She is an old swindler who tricked me and took my clothes and a thousand dinars.” “She tricked me too,” the young woman said. “She brought me here to visit Abu al-Hamalat and stripped me.” Then the merchant’s son began saying, “I shall look to you for my clothes and my thousand dinars!” And the young woman replied, “I shall look to you for my belongings and my jewels! Bring me your mother!” Just then the dyer came in and saw the merchant’s son and the young woman both stripped. “Tell me where your mother is!” he demanded. The young woman told him everything that had happened to her, and the merchant’s son related his own adventure. “Alas for my money and other people’s goods!” cried the dyer. “Alas for my donkey!” cried the donkey driver. “Dyer, give me my donkey!” “She is an old swindler,” said the dyer. “Come out so that I can lock the door.” The merchant’s son replied, “It would be a disgrace to you if we entered your house clothed and left it naked.” So he clothed him and the young woman and sent her home. We shall return to her story after her husband comes back from his journey.

As for the dyer, he shut his shop and said to the merchant’s son, “Let us go and search for the old woman and hand her over to the governor.” So he went with him, accompanied by the donkey driver. They entered the governor’s house and made their complaint. “What is your story, good people?” he asked. They told him what had happened, and he said, “How many old women are there in the city? Go and search for her. Seize her, and I shall make her confess for you.” So they went about looking for her, and we shall return to their story.

As for Dalila the Crafty, she said to her daughter Zaynab, “My daughter, I want to play another trick.” “Mother, I fear for you,” Zaynab replied. “I am like a hard bean that neither water nor fire can soften,” she said. Then she rose, dressed herself as a servant in a great household, and went out looking for a trick to play. She passed an alley spread with carpets and hung with lamps, where she heard singing women and the beat of tambourines. There she saw a maid carrying a little boy on her shoulder. He wore beautiful clothes embroidered with silver, a fez crowned with pearls on his head, a jeweled gold collar about his neck, and a velvet cloak. The house belonged to the chief of the merchants of Baghdad, and the boy was his son. He also had a maiden daughter who was betrothed, and that day they were celebrating her marriage contract. A number of women singers were with her mother, and whenever the mother went upstairs or down, the boy clung to her. So she had called the maid and said, “Take your young master and amuse him until the gathering breaks up.” When the old woman Dalila entered and saw the boy on the maid’s shoulder, she said, “I see your mistress has some happy occasion today.” “She is celebrating her daughter’s marriage contract,” the maid replied, “and the singers are with her.” Dalila said to herself, “Dalila, there is no trick like taking this boy from the maid!” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundred and fourth night

She said: It has reached me, O fortunate King, that after the old woman had said to herself, “Dalila, there is no trick like taking this boy from the maid,” she exclaimed, “Oh, what a dreadful shame!” Then she took from her pocket a little brass disc resembling a dinar. The maid was inexperienced, and the old woman said to her, “Take this dinar, go in to your mistress, and tell her, ‘Umm al-Khayr rejoices in your happiness and is mindful of your kindness to her. On the wedding day she will come with her daughters, and they will bestow gifts of money upon the bridal attendants.’” The maid replied, “But Mother, whenever my young master sees his mother, he clings to her.” “Give him to me until you go and come back,” she said. The maid took the brass disc and went inside. As for the old woman, she took the boy into an alley, stripped him of his jewels and clothes, and said to herself, “Dalila, now that you have tricked the maid and taken him from her, true cleverness would be to play another trick and leave him as security for a thousand dinars’ worth of goods.” Then she went to the jewelers’ market, where she saw a Jewish goldsmith with a case full of jewelry before him. “There is no cleverness like tricking this Jew,” she said to herself, “taking a thousand dinars’ worth of jewelry from him and leaving the boy as a pledge.” The Jew looked up, saw the boy with the old woman, and recognized him as the son of the chief of the merchants. He was a wealthy man, and if his neighbor made a sale while he did not, he envied him. “What do you require, my lady?” he asked. “Are you Master Izra the Jew?” she asked, for she had already inquired after his name. “Yes,” he replied. She said, “This boy’s sister, the daughter of the chief of the merchants, is betrothed. Today they celebrated her marriage contract, and she needs jewelry. Bring us two pairs of gold anklets, a pair of gold bracelets, pearl earrings, a girdle, a dagger, and a ring.” She took from him goods worth a thousand dinars and said, “I shall take this jewelry for them to choose from. Whatever pleases them they will keep, and I shall bring you its price. Keep this boy with you.” “As you wish,” he replied. She took the jewelry and went home. Her daughter asked, “What trick have you played?” She replied, “I played a trick and took the son of the chief of the merchants, stripped him, then pledged him for a thousand dinars’ worth of goods, which I took from a Jew.” “You will no longer be able to walk about the city,” her daughter said.

Meanwhile the maid had gone in to her mistress and said, “My lady, Umm al-Khayr sends you greetings and rejoices in your happiness. On the wedding day she will come with her daughters and give gifts of money.” “Where is your young master?” her mistress asked. “I left him with her, for fear he would cling to you,” she replied. “She gave me a gift for the singers.” The lady said to the leader of the singers, “Take your gift.” She took it and found that it was a brass disc. “Go down, you whore,” the mistress said to the maid, “and look for your young master!” The maid went down but found neither the boy nor the old woman. She screamed and fell upon her face, and their joy was turned to sorrow. Just then the chief of the merchants arrived, and his wife told him everything that had happened. He went out to search for the boy, and every merchant took a different road to look for him. The chief of the merchants searched until he saw his son, stripped of his finery, at the Jew’s shop. “This is my son!” he said. “Yes,” the Jew replied. His father took him, and in his great joy at finding him, did not ask about his clothes.

But when the Jew saw the merchant taking his son away, he seized him and cried, “May the Caliph grant me justice against you!” “What is wrong with you, Jew?” the merchant asked. The Jew said, “The old woman took a thousand dinars’ worth of jewelry from me for your daughter, leaving this boy as a pledge. I gave it to her only because she left the boy as security for what she took, and I trusted her only because I knew he was your son.” “My daughter needs no jewelry,” the merchant replied. “Bring me the boy’s clothes!” The Jew cried out, “Help me, Muslims!” Just then the donkey driver, the dyer, and the merchant’s son came by in search of the old woman. They asked the merchant and the Jew why they were quarreling, and the two told them what had happened. “She is an old swindler,” they said, “and she cheated us before you.” Then they told them all that had happened to them. The chief of the merchants said, “Now that I have found my son, let his clothes be his ransom. If the old woman is caught, I shall demand them from her.” Then he took his son home to his mother, who rejoiced at his safe return.

As for the Jew, he asked the three men, “Where are you going?” “We mean to search for her,” they replied. “Take me with you,” he said. Then he asked, “Does any one of you know her?” “I know her,” said the donkey driver. The Jew said, “If we all go together, we shall never find her; she will run away from us. Let each of us take a different road, and we shall meet at the shop of Hajj Masud the Maghribi barber.” So each went a different way. Now the old woman had gone out to play another trick, and the donkey driver saw and recognized her. He caught hold of her and said, “Woe to you! Have you been at this business long?” “What is the matter?” she asked. “My donkey! Give it back!” he said. She replied, “My son, do not uncover what God has concealed. Do you want your donkey or the customers’ goods?” “Only my donkey,” he replied. She said, “I saw that you were poor, and I left your donkey for you with the Maghribi barber. Stand at a distance until I come back to you, while I ask him politely to give it to you.” She went up to the Maghribi, kissed his hand, and wept. “What is wrong?” he asked. She said, “My son, look at my boy standing over there. He was ill, and a draught caught him and deranged his mind. He used to keep donkeys, and now, whether he stands, sits, or walks, he says, ‘My donkey! My donkey!’ A physician told me, ‘His mind is disordered, and nothing will cure him but having two molars pulled and his temples branded twice.’ So take this dinar, call him over, and tell him, ‘Your donkey is with me.’” The Maghribi said, “May I be bound to fast a whole year if I do not put his donkey into his hand!” He had two workmen with him and told one, “Go and heat two iron spikes.” Then he called the donkey driver, while the old woman went on her way. When the man approached, the barber said, “Your donkey is with me, poor fellow. Come and take it! By my life, I shall put it into your very hand.” He led him into a dark room, then struck him and knocked him down. They dragged him along and bound his hands and feet, and the Maghribi pulled out two of his molars and branded his temples twice. Then he released him. The donkey driver got up and said, “Maghribi, why have you done this to me?” “Your mother told me you were mad,” he replied, “because you had caught a draught while ill. Whether you stand, sit, or walk, you cry, ‘My donkey!’ Well, here is your donkey in your hand!” “May God repay you for pulling out my teeth!” the man cried. “But your mother told me…” said the barber, and related everything she had said. “May God bring misery upon her!” cried the donkey driver. Then he and the Maghribi went off quarreling, leaving the shop behind. When the barber returned, he found nothing in it: as soon as he and the donkey driver had gone away, the old woman had taken everything in the shop and returned to her daughter, telling her all that had happened and all she had done.

When the barber saw his empty shop, he seized the donkey driver and said, “Bring me your mother!” “She is not my mother,” he replied. “She is a swindler who has cheated many people and taken my donkey.” Just then the dyer, the Jew, and the merchant’s son arrived. Seeing the Maghribi clutching the donkey driver, whose temples were branded, they asked, “What has happened to you, donkey driver?” He told them the whole story, and the Maghribi related his own. “She is an old swindler who cheated us too,” they said, and told him what had happened. So he shut his shop and went with them to the governor’s house. “We look to you alone to recover our losses and put our affairs right,” they told the governor. “How many old women are there in the city?” he asked. “Does any one of you know her?” “I know her,” said the donkey driver, “but give us ten of your men.” So the donkey driver went out with the governor’s men, the others following behind. He led them all about until Dalila came toward them, and he and the governor’s men seized her and took her to the governor. They stood beneath the palace window, waiting for him to come out. But the governor’s men fell asleep, worn out by keeping watch with him through the night. The old woman pretended to sleep, and the donkey driver and his companions fell asleep as well. Then she slipped away from them and entered the governor’s women’s quarters. She kissed the hand of the mistress of the household and asked, “Where is the governor?” “He is asleep,” she replied. “What do you want?” Dalila said, “My husband is a slave dealer. Before setting out on a journey, he gave me five slaves to sell. The governor met me and agreed to buy them for a thousand dinars, with two hundred for me, telling me to bring them to his house. So I have brought them.” But morning overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.

When it was the seven hundred and fifth night

She said: I have heard, O fortunate King, that when the old woman went up to the governor’s women’s quarters, she said to his wife, “The governor has agreed to buy the slaves from me for a thousand dinars, with another two hundred for myself, and told me to bring them to the house.” Now the governor had a thousand dinars, which he had given his wife, saying, “Keep these until we buy some slaves.” When she heard the old woman’s words, she took them as confirmation of her husband’s plans and asked, “Where are the slaves?” “My lady,” said the old woman, “they are asleep beneath the window of this very palace.” The lady looked out and saw the Moor dressed as a slave, the merchant’s son likewise, and the dyer, the donkey-driver, and the Jew all looking like shaven-headed slaves. “Every one of these slaves,” she said, “is worth more than a thousand dinars.” She opened the chest, gave the old woman the thousand dinars, and said, “Wait until the governor wakes, and we shall get the other two hundred from him.” The old woman replied, “My lady, a hundred of those are yours, as a little gift for the draught of water I drank from your jug. Keep the other hundred for me until I return.” Then she added, “My lady, let me out by the secret door.” The lady showed her out that way and drew the curtain behind her. The old woman went to her daughter, who asked, “Mother, what have you done?” “My daughter,” she replied, “I have played a fine trick and taken this thousand dinars from the governor’s wife. I sold her all five—the donkey-driver, the Jew, the dyer, the barber, and the merchant’s son—passing them off as slaves. But, my daughter, none of them is more dangerous to me than the donkey-driver, for he knows me.” Her daughter said, “Mother, stay where you are. You have done enough. The pitcher does not come back whole every time.”

As for the governor, when he awoke, his wife said to him, “I was delighted for you over the five slaves you bought from the old woman.” “What slaves?” he asked. “Why deny it to me?” she said. “God willing, they will become men of rank like you.” “By my head,” he said, “I have bought no slaves! Who told you that?” She replied, “The old woman Dalila, with whom you struck the bargain, promising her a thousand dinars for them and two hundred for herself.” “Have you given her the money?” he asked. “Yes,” she said, “and I saw the slaves with my own eyes. Each was wearing an outfit worth a thousand dinars. I sent word to the officers to look after them.” The governor went down and found the Jew, the donkey-driver, the Moor, the dyer, and the merchant’s son. “Officers,” he said, “where are the five slaves we bought from the old woman for a thousand dinars?” They replied, “There are no slaves here. We have seen only these five men, who caught the old woman and brought her under arrest. Then we all fell asleep, and she slipped away and went into the women’s quarters. After that, a maid came and asked, ‘Are the five men the old woman brought here with you?’ We said yes.” “By God,” said the governor, “this is the greatest trick of all!” The five men cried, “We shall hold you answerable for our belongings!” He told them, “Your friend the old woman has sold you to me for a thousand dinars.” “God does not permit such a thing!” they replied. “We are free men and cannot be sold. We shall take you before the Caliph!” He said, “It was you who showed the old woman the way to my house. I shall sell you to strangers for two hundred dinars apiece.”

While they were in this state, the emir Hasan Sharr al-Tariq returned from his journey and found his wife stripped bare. She told him all that had happened, and he said, “My quarrel is with none but the governor.” He went to him and said, “Do you allow old women to roam the city, cheating people and taking their money? This is your responsibility, and I shall hold you answerable for my wife’s belongings.” Then he asked the five men, “What is your story?” They told him everything that had happened, and he said, “You have been wronged.” Turning to the governor, he asked, “Why are you holding them prisoner?” The governor replied, “These five showed the old woman the way to my house, where she took my thousand dinars and sold them to the women of my household.” “Emir Hasan,” the men said, “you are our advocate in this case.” The governor then said to Emir Hasan, “I will make good your wife’s belongings, and I undertake to produce the old woman. But which of you knows her?” They all replied, “We know her. Send ten officers with us, and we shall catch her.” He gave them ten officers, and the donkey-driver said, “Follow me. I know her by her blue eyes.” Just then, the old woman Dalila came out of an alley. They seized her and took her to the governor’s house. When he saw her, he asked, “Where are these people’s belongings?” “I have taken nothing and seen nothing,” she replied. He told the jailer, “Keep her in prison until tomorrow.” But the jailer said, “I will neither take her nor imprison her, for fear she plays some trick and I am held answerable for her.” So the governor mounted, took the old woman and the others, and rode out to the bank of the Tigris. He summoned the executioner and ordered him to hang her by her hair. The executioner hauled her up with the pulley, and the governor appointed ten men to guard her, then returned home. Darkness fell, and sleep overcame the guards. Now a Bedouin had heard one man say to another, “Praise be to God for your safe return! Where have you been all this time?” The other replied, “In Baghdad, where I dined on fritters with honey.” The Bedouin said, “I must go into Baghdad and eat fritters with honey.” He had never seen them in his life, nor had he ever entered Baghdad. He mounted his horse and rode along, saying to himself, “Fritters are altogether good! By the honour of the Arabs, I shall eat nothing but fritters with honey!” And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and sixth night

She said: I have heard, O fortunate King, that when the Bedouin mounted his horse, intending to enter Baghdad, he rode along saying to himself, “Eating fritters is a fine thing! By the honour of the Arabs, I shall eat nothing but fritters with honey!” At last he reached the gibbet where Dalila hung. She heard him saying these words to himself, and he came up to her and asked, “What are you?” She replied, “I place myself under your protection, O sheikh of the Arabs.” “God grants you protection,” he said. “But why have you been hung up here?” She told him, “I have an enemy, an oil-seller who fries fritters. I stopped to buy some from him, and when I spat, my spittle landed on the fritters. He complained to the magistrate, who ordered me hung up here and said, ‘My judgment is that you shall bring her ten pounds of fritters with honey and feed them to her while she hangs. If she eats them, untie her. If she will not, leave her hanging.’ But I cannot stomach sweet things.” The Bedouin said, “By the honour of the Arabs, I have come from my encampment for nothing but fritters with honey, and I shall eat them in your place.” She replied, “No one may eat them unless he hangs here in my place.” He fell for the trick and untied her. She stripped off his clothes and bound him in her place, then dressed herself in his garments, wound his turban about her head, mounted his horse, and went to her daughter. “What is all this?” her daughter asked. “They hung me up,” she replied, and told her what had happened with the Bedouin.

Such was her case. As for the guards, when one of them awoke, he roused his companions. They saw that day had broken, and one of them raised his eyes and called, “Dalila?” The Bedouin answered, “By God, I will eat no balila! Have you brought the fritters with honey?” “This is a Bedouin!” they exclaimed. Then they asked him, “Bedouin, where is Dalila? Who untied her?” He replied, “I untied her. She cannot be forced to eat fritters with honey when she has no stomach for them.” They realized that the Bedouin knew nothing of her affairs and that she had played a trick on him. They said to one another, “Shall we run away, or stay and meet whatever God has decreed for us?” Just then the governor arrived with the people she had cheated, and told the officers, “Go and untie Dalila.” The Bedouin cried, “I will eat no balila! Have you brought the fritters with honey?” The governor looked up at the gibbet and saw a Bedouin in place of the old woman. “What is this?” he asked the officers. “Mercy, my lord!” they cried. “Tell me what happened,” he said. They replied, “We had been up all night with you on patrol, and we said to ourselves, ‘Dalila is hanging safely up there,’ and fell asleep. When we woke, we found this Bedouin hanging in her place. We are at your mercy.” The governor said, “Men, she is a cunning cheat! You have God’s protection. Untie the Bedouin.” But the Bedouin seized hold of the governor and said, “May God uphold the Caliph through you! I shall hold you answerable for my horse and clothes.” The governor questioned him, and the Bedouin told his story. Amazed, the governor asked, “Why did you untie her?” “I had no idea she was a cheat,” he replied. The others said, “Governor, we shall hold you answerable for our belongings. We handed her over to you, and she became your responsibility. We shall take you before the Caliph.” Hasan Sharr al-Tariq had already gone up to the court, and now the governor, the Bedouin, and the five men arrived, crying, “We have been wronged!” “Who has wronged you?” asked the Caliph. Each came forward and told what had happened to him. Even the governor said, “Commander of the Faithful, she cheated me and sold me these five men for a thousand dinars, although they are free.” The Caliph said, “I shall make good everything you have lost.” Then he told the governor, “I hold you responsible for producing the old woman.” But the governor shook his collar in token of refusing the charge and said, “I will not undertake it. I had her hung on the gibbet, but she tricked this Bedouin into releasing her, hung him in her place, and took his horse and clothes.” The Caliph asked, “Whom else should I charge with finding her?” He replied, “Charge Ahmad al-Danaf. He receives a thousand dinars every month, and he has forty-one followers, each of whom receives a hundred dinars a month.” The Caliph called, “Captain Ahmad!” “At your service, Commander of the Faithful,” he answered. “I charge you with bringing the old woman here.” “I undertake to do so,” he replied. The Caliph then kept the five men and the Bedouin with him. And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and seventh night

She said: I have heard, O fortunate King, that when the Caliph charged Ahmad al-Danaf with bringing the old woman before him, he replied, “I undertake to do so, Commander of the Faithful.” Then he and his followers went down to their hall, where they said to one another, “How are we to catch her? How many old women are there in the city?” One of them, called Ali Camel-Shoulder, said to Ahmad al-Danaf, “Why consult Hasan Shuman? Is Hasan Shuman so important?” Hasan said, “Ali, how dare you make light of me? By the Most Great Name, I shall not go with you this time!” He rose in anger. Ahmad al-Danaf said, “Lads, let each leader take ten men and search a quarter of the city for Dalila.” Ali Camel-Shoulder took ten men, as did each of the other leaders, and each party set off for a different quarter. Before they separated, they agreed to meet in a certain alley in a certain quarter. Word spread through the city that Ahmad al-Danaf had undertaken to catch Dalila the Crafty. Zaynab said, “Mother, if you are so clever, play a trick on Ahmad al-Danaf and his men.” “My daughter,” she replied, “the only one I fear is Hasan Shuman.” The girl said, “By my cropped locks, I shall bring you the clothes of all forty-one!” She rose, put on an outfit and a face veil, and went to a perfumer who owned a hall with two entrances. She greeted him, gave him a dinar, and said, “Take this dinar for the use of your hall, and let me have it until the end of the day.” He gave her the keys. She went and fetched furnishings on the donkey-driver’s donkey, furnished the hall, and set out food and wine in every alcove. Then she stood at the door with her face unveiled. Presently Ali Camel-Shoulder and his men approached. She kissed his hand, and when he saw what a lovely young woman she was, he was smitten. “What do you want?” he asked. “Are you Captain Ahmad al-Danaf?” she said. “No,” he replied, “I am one of his men. My name is Ali Camel-Shoulder.” “Where are you going?” she asked them. He replied, “We are going about in search of an old swindler who has robbed people of their livelihoods, and we mean to catch her. But who are you, and what is your story?” She said, “My father was a wine-seller in Mosul. He died and left me a great fortune, and I came to this city for fear of the authorities. I asked the people, ‘Who will protect me?’ They told me, ‘None but Ahmad al-Danaf can protect you.’” His men said, “This very day you shall have his protection.” She replied, “Do me the kindness of accepting a morsel of food and a drink of water.” When they agreed, she brought them inside. They ate and grew drunk, and she put a drug in their drink and stupefied them. Then she stripped them of their clothes, and did the same to all the others.

Meanwhile, Ahmad al-Danaf went about searching for Dalila, but found neither her nor any of his followers. At last he came to the young woman. She kissed his hand, and he too was smitten at the sight of her. “Are you Captain Ahmad al-Danaf?” she asked. “Yes,” he replied. “And who are you?” “A stranger from Mosul,” she said. “My father was a wine-seller. He died and left me a great fortune, which I brought here for fear of the authorities. I opened this tavern, but the governor has imposed a levy on me. I wish to place myself under your protection, for you have a better right than he to the money he takes.” Ahmad al-Danaf said, “Give him nothing. You are most welcome under my protection.” “Then do me the kindness of eating my food,” she said. He went inside, ate, and drank wine until he fell down drunk. She drugged him, took his clothes, and loaded all the garments onto the Bedouin’s horse and the donkey-driver’s donkey. Then she roused Ali Camel-Shoulder and left. When he came to his senses, he found himself naked and saw Ahmad al-Danaf and the others lying drugged. He revived them with an antidote, and when they awoke, they found themselves naked too. Ahmad al-Danaf said, “What is this, lads? We were searching for her, hoping to catch her, and this whore has caught us instead! How Hasan Shuman will crow over us! Still, we must wait until dark before going home.” Now Hasan Shuman had asked the sergeant, “Where are the men?” While he was questioning him, they arrived stark naked, and Hasan Shuman recited these two verses:

Men seem alike when they approach the water, but how they differ when they turn away! Among men are landmarks and trackless wastes; among the stars, dim specks and brilliant lights. When he saw them, he asked, “Who tricked you and stripped you bare?” They replied, “We undertook to search for an old woman, but it was a lovely young girl who stripped us.” Hasan Shuman said, “A fine thing she has done to you!” “Do you know her, Hasan?” they asked. “I know her and the old woman too,” he replied. They asked him, “What will you say before the Caliph?” Shuman said, “Danaf, shake your collar before him to renounce the charge, and the Caliph will ask, ‘Who will undertake it?’ If he asks you why you did not catch her, say, ‘I do not know her. Charge Hasan Shuman with finding her.’ If he gives me the task, I shall catch her.” They passed the night, and in the morning went up to the Caliph’s court and kissed the ground before him. The Caliph asked, “Where is the old woman, Captain Ahmad?” Ahmad shook his collar. “Why?” the Caliph asked. He replied, “I do not know her. Charge Shuman with finding her, for he knows both her and her daughter.” He added, “She did not play these tricks out of greed for people’s possessions, but to display her own cleverness and her daughter’s, so that you might grant her her husband’s former stipend and her daughter a stipend equal to her father’s.” Shuman interceded to save her from death and undertook to bring her. The Caliph said, “By the lives of my forefathers, if she returns the people’s belongings, she shall be safe, and I accept your intercession.” “Grant me safe-conduct for her, Commander of the Faithful,” said Shuman. “She is under your protection,” the Caliph replied, and gave him the kerchief of safe-conduct. Shuman went down to Dalila’s house and called out to her. Her daughter Zaynab answered. “Where is your mother?” he asked. “Upstairs,” she replied. He said, “Tell her to bring the people’s belongings and come with me before the Caliph. I have brought her the kerchief of safe-conduct. If she will not come willingly, she has only herself to blame.” Dalila came down, hung the kerchief about her neck, and handed over the people’s belongings, loaded on the donkey-driver’s donkey and the Bedouin’s horse. Shuman said, “My chief’s clothes and those of his men are still missing.” “By the Most Great Name,” she replied, “I did not strip them!” “True,” he said, “but that was your daughter Zaynab’s trick, and a fine favour she has done you!” He set off with her to the Caliph’s court. Hasan came forward, laid the people’s belongings before the Caliph, and presented Dalila. When the Caliph saw her, he ordered her taken to the place of execution. “I am under your protection, Shuman!” she cried. Shuman rose, kissed the Caliph’s hands, and said, “Mercy! You granted her safe-conduct.” “Then she shall be spared for your sake,” said the Caliph. “Come here, old woman. What is your name?” “My name is Dalila,” she replied. “You are nothing but a schemer and a trickster,” he said, “and so you shall be called Dalila the Crafty.” Then he asked, “Why did you play these tricks and give us so much trouble?” She replied, “I did not play them out of greed for people’s possessions. But I heard of the tricks Ahmad al-Danaf had played in Baghdad, and of Hasan Shuman’s tricks, and I said to myself, ‘I too shall do as they have done.’ Now I have restored the people’s belongings to them.” The donkey-driver rose and said, “Let God’s law judge between her and me! It was not enough for her to take my donkey: she set the Moorish barber on me, and he pulled out my back teeth and branded me twice on the temples!” And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she fell silent, leaving her tale untold.

When it was the seven hundred and eighth night

She said: I have heard, O fortunate King, that when the donkey-driver rose and said, “Let God’s law judge between her and me! It was not enough for her to take my donkey: she set the barber on me, and he pulled out my back teeth and branded me twice on the temples,” the Caliph ordered a hundred dinars to be given to him, and a hundred to the dyer, saying, “Go and rebuild your dye-house.” They prayed for the Caliph and departed. The Bedouin took his belongings and his horse, saying, “Never again shall I enter Baghdad or eat fritters with honey!” Everyone who had lost anything took it back, and they all dispersed. The Caliph said, “Dalila, ask a favour of me.” She replied, “My father was your master of the pigeon post, and I used to rear the messenger pigeons. My husband was captain of Baghdad. I wish to receive my husband’s former pay, and my daughter wishes to receive her father’s.” The Caliph granted them what they asked. Then she said, “I also ask that you make me gatekeeper of the khan.” Now the Caliph had built a three-storey khan for merchants to lodge in. Forty slaves and forty dogs guarded it; the Caliph had brought them from the king of Sulaymaniyya when he deposed him, and had collars made for the dogs. There was a slave cook at the khan who prepared the slaves’ food and fed meat to the dogs. The Caliph said, “Dalila, shall I make you responsible for the khan, so that if anything is lost from it, you must answer for it?” “Yes,” she replied, “but let my daughter live in the palace above the khan’s gateway, for it has roof terraces, and pigeons can only be properly reared where there is room.” He granted her this, and her daughter moved all her belongings into the palace above the gateway and took charge of the forty messenger pigeons. Zaynab also hung up in her palace the forty outfits and Ahmad al-Danaf’s clothes. The Caliph put Dalila the Crafty in command of the forty slaves and ordered them to obey her. She made her station behind the khan’s gate, and every day she went up to the court in case the Caliph needed to send a message to some distant land. She did not leave the court until the end of the day. The forty slaves stood guard over the khan, and when night fell, she let the dogs loose to guard it through the darkness. Such were the adventures of Dalila the Crafty in the city of Baghdad.