and her, to shew that he deserved to be put to death, if
he attempted anything against her honour. Alla ad Deen, satisfied
with having thus deprived his rival of the happiness he had
flattered himself with, slept very soundly, though the princess
Buddir al Buddoor never passed a night so ill in her life; and if
we consider the condition in which the genie left the grand
vizier's son, we may imagine that the new bridegroom spent it
much worse.

Alla ad Deen had no occasion the next morning to rub the lamp to
call the genie; who appeared at the hour appointed, just when he
had done dressing himself, and said to him, "I am here, master,
what are your commands?" "Go," said Alla ad Deen, "fetch the
vizier's son out of the place where you left him, put him into
his bed again, and carry it to the sultan's palace, from whence
you brought it." The genie presently returned with the vizier's
son. Alla ad Deen took up his sabre, the bridegroom was laid by
the princess, and in an instant the nuptial-bed was transported
into the same chamber of the palace from whence it had been
brought. But we must observe, that all this time the genie never
was visible either to the princess or the grand vizier's son. His
hideous form would have made them die with fear. Neither did they
hear any thing of the discourse between Alla ad Deen and him;
they only perceived the motion of the bed, and their
transportation from one place to another; which we may well
imagine was enough to alarm them.

As soon as the genie had set down the nuptial bed in its proper
place, the sultan tapped at the door to wish her good morning.
The grand vizier's son, who was almost perished with cold, by
standing in his thin under garment all night, and had not had
time to warm himself in bed, no sooner heard the knocking at the
door than he got out of bed, and ran into the robing-chamber,
where he had undressed himself the night before.

The sultan having opened the door, went to the bed-side, kissed
the princess between the eyes, according to custom, wishing her a
good morrow, but was extremely surprised to see her so
melancholy. She only cast at him a sorrowful look, expressive of
great affliction or great dissatisfaction. He said a few words to
her; but finding that he could not get a word from her,
attributed it to her modesty, and retired. Nevertheless, he
suspected that there was something extraordinary in this silence,
and thereupon went immediately to the sult