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heard the end of it, but he ſaid to the third old. Man, I remit the other third part of the Merchant’s Crime upon the Account of your Story. He is very much oblig’d to all three of you, for having deliver’d him out of his Danger by your Stories; without which, he had not now been in the World. And having ſpoke thus, he diſappear’d, to the great contentment of the Company.
The Merchant fail’d not to give his three Deliverers the Thanks he ow’d them. They rejoyc’d to ſee him out of Danger; after which he bid them adieu, and each of ’em went on his way. The Merchant return’d to his Wife and Children, and paſs’d the reſt of his Days with them in Peace. But, Sir, added Scheherazade, how pleaſant ſoever theſe Stories may be, that I have told your Majeſty hitherto, they don’t come near that of the Fiſherman, Dinarzade perceiving that the Sultaneſs demurr’d, ſays to her, Siſter, ſince there is ſtill ſome time remaining, pray tell us the Story of the Fiſherman, if the Sultan is willing. Schahriar agreed to it, and Scheherazade reſuming her Diſcourſe, purſued it in this manner,
The Story of the Fiſherman.
- SIR,
THere was a very ancient Fiſherman, ſo poor, that he could ſcarce earn enough to maintain himſelf, his Wife, and three Children. He went every Day to fiſh betimes in a Morning; and impos’d it as a Law upon himfelf, not to caſt his Nets above four times a Day. He went one Morning by Moon-light; and coming to the Sea-bank, undreſs’d himſelf, and caſt in his Nets. As he drew them towards the Shoar, he found them very heavy, and thought he had a good draught of Fiſh, at which he rejoic’d within himſelf; but in a Moment after, perceiving that inſtead of Fiſh, there was nothing in his Nets but the Carkaſs of an Aſs he was mightily vex’d; Scheherazade ſtop’d here, becauſe ſhe aw it was Day.
Siſter, ſays Dinarzade, I muſt confeſs, that the beginning of this Story charms me, and I foreſee that the reſult of It will be very agreeable, There is nothing more ſur-prizing,
