out of it."

"God keep the commander of the faithful in the possession and
right use of his senses," replied Abou Hassan, still sighing and
weeping; "you see how it is, and that I have not imposed upon his
majesty. And I wish to Heaven," continued he, to dissemble the
better, "that I had no occasion to have told him the melancholy
and afflicting news. Alas! I cannot enough express my irreparable
loss!" "That is true," replied Mesrour, "and I can assure you I
take a great share in your affliction; but you must be comforted,
and not abandon yourself to your grief. I leave you with
reluctance, to return to the caliph; but I beg the favour of you
not to bury the corpse till I come again; for I will assist at
the interment, and accompany it with my prayers." Mesrour went to
give an account of his visit. Abou Hassan attended him to the
door, told him he did not deserve the honour he intended him: and
for fear Mesrour should return to say something else, followed
him with his eyes for some time, and when he saw him at a
distance, returned to his wife and released her. "This is
already," said he, "a new scene of mirth, but I fancy it will not
be the last; for certainly the princess Zobeide will not believe
Mesrour, but will laugh at him, since she has too substantial a
reason to the contrary; therefore we must expect some new event."
While Abou Hassan was talking thus, Nouzhatoul-aouadat had time
to put on her clothes again, and both went and sat down on a sofa
opposite to the window, where they could see all that passed.

In the mean time, Mesrour reached Zobeide's apartment, and going
into her closet laughing, clapped his hands like one who had
something very agreeable to tell.

The caliph, naturally impatient, and piqued a little at the
princess's contradiction, as soon as he saw Mesrour, "Vile
slave," said he, "is this a time to laugh? Why do not you tell me
which is dead, the husband or the wife?"

"Commander of the faithful," answered Mesrour, putting on a
serious countenance, "it is Nouzhatoul-aouadat who is dead, for
the loss of whom About Hassan is as much afflicted as when he
appeared before your majesty." The caliph not giving him time to
pursue his story, interrupted him, and cried out, laughing
heartily, "Good news! Zobeide, your mistress, was a moment ago
possessed of the palace of paintings, and now it is mine. She
staked it against my garden of pleasures, since you went;
therefore you could not have done