e disagreeable consequences for himself.
The populace had scarcely perceived that they were not forced to
tremble slavishly before the noble caliph, than they began to censure
his conduct and calumniate him, with the greatest audacity. For some
time he allowed this to pass unnoticed. But the insolence increased;
and he now all at once issued orders, that any one presuming to revile
the actions of the caliph should be executed without mercy. This order
had been made public a few days after Ibrahim's return, indeed on the
very morning when his son had gone to Babylon. Being much engaged, he
remained at home during that morning, and it was not till nearly
evening that he went to a khan, where he was in the habit of spending a
few hours every day. He had not spoken to any person, and knew nothing
of the proclamation. He had scarcely entered the khan, when a crier
came through the street, exclaiming that every one should step aside to
make way, as Zobeide, the favourite wife of the caliph was about to
pass with her slaves. Ibrahim, who was in a merry mood, and did not
often weigh his words nicely, said: "They call Haroun al Raschid the
wisest man. It may be that he possesses singular qualities; but as
regards women, he is the weakest creature that I never knew. My son,
who is twenty years old, is ten times wiser on that score than he is."

Ibrahim had no sooner said these words, than he was seized by the
officers of the cadi, and brought before Hussain. His grief can easily
be conceived, when he heard the sentence of death. He entreated
Hussain, in the name of their youthful friendship, to save his life.

"You yourself have violated our friendship," replied the latter,
coldly; "there are here witnesses of your words, and I cannot save you.
All I can do is, to bring you to the Commander of the Faithful, who
wishes to see the first violator of his proclamation, and to witness
his execution."

So far the old slave related. Ali was paralysed with horror; a
messenger from the caliph first recalled him to consciousness. "Do you
bring me his gray head?" asked Ali; "has the axe already dyed his thin
silvery hair with blood?"

"I will bring you to your father," replied the messenger. "The caliph
has granted him permission to take leave of his son before he dies."

"Is he still living?" cried Ali, and he hastened to the palace. On
entering it, he saw the caliph sitting on his throne; while before him
his father, wi