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and my trouble and amazement increased upon me till I could neither eat nor drink. At last, I lost patience and said to them, “O young men, if ye will not relieve my concern and acquaint me with the reason of your blackening your faces and the meaning of your words, ‘We were seated at our ease, but our impertinent curiosity would not let us be,’ let me leave you and return to my own people and be at rest from seeing these things, for as says the proverb,
’Twere wiser and better your presence to leave, For when the eye sees not, the heart does not grieve.”
“O youth,” answered they, “we have not concealed this thing from thee but in our concern for thee, lest what befell us before thee and thou become like unto us.” “It avails not,” said I; “you must tell me.” “We give thee good advice,” rejoined they; “do thou take it and leave questioning us of our case, or thou wilt become one-eyed like unto us.” But I still persisted in my demand and they said, “O youth, if this thing befall thee, we warn thee that we will never again receive thee into our company nor let thee abide with us.” Then they took a ram and slaughtering it, skinned it and gave me a knife, saying, “Lie down on the skin and we will sew thee up in it and leave thee and go away. Presently there will come to thee a bird called the roc,[1] that will catch thee up in its claws and fly away with thee and set thee down on a mountain. As soon as thou feelest it alight with thee, slit the skin with the knife and come forth; whereupon the bird will take fright at thee and fly away and leave thee. Then rise and fare on half a day’s journey, till thou comest to a palace rising high into the air, builded of khelenj[2] and aloes and sandal-wood and plated with red gold, inlaid with all manner emeralds and
