Prevod
It is also told that a tyrannical king of the Children of Israel was sitting one day upon his royal throne when he saw a man enter through the palace door, hideous of countenance and terrible in appearance. Appalled by his sudden intrusion and frightened by his looks, the king sprang up to confront him and said, “Who are you, fellow? Who gave you leave to enter my presence and bade you come into my palace?” He replied, “The Master of the palace bade me come. No chamberlain can bar my way, nor do I need permission to enter the presence of kings. I fear neither a sovereign’s might nor the multitude of his followers. I am he whom no tyrant can repel, and from whose grasp none can escape. I am the destroyer of pleasures and the sunderer of companions.” When the king heard these words, he fell upon his face, trembling in every limb, and lost consciousness. When he came to himself, he asked, “Are you the Angel of Death?” “Yes,” he replied. The king said, “I implore you by God to grant me but one day’s respite, that I may seek forgiveness for my sins, plead with my Lord for pardon, and restore the wealth in my treasuries to its rightful owners, so that I need not bear the ordeal of accounting for it or the torment of its punishment.” But the Angel of Death said, “Too late, too late! That cannot be.” And dawn overtook Shahrazad, and she ceased her permitted tale.
When it was the four hundred and sixty-fourth night
She said: It has reached me, O fortunate king, that the Angel of Death said to the king, “Too late, too late! That cannot be. How can I grant you respite when the days of your life have been reckoned, your breaths numbered, and your allotted hours fixed and written down?” The king said, “Grant me one hour.” He replied, “That hour was included in the reckoning, and it passed while you were heedless; it ended while you were lost in distraction. You have exhausted your breaths, and only one remains.” The king asked, “Who will be with me when I am carried to my grave?” He answered, “None but your deeds.” “I have no good deeds,” said the king. “Then surely your resting place will be in the Fire, and your end beneath the wrath of the Almighty.” Then he took his soul, and the king toppled from his throne and fell to the ground. A clamour arose among the people of his kingdom; voices were raised, and cries and weeping filled the air. Had they known the wrath of his Lord that awaited him, they would have wept for him all the more, and their lamentation would have been still louder and more bitter.
