According to all appearances, there was no prospect of Aladdin being
heard of any more. But the magician, when he had contrived his death,
forgot the ring he had put upon his finger, which preserved him, though
he knew not its virtue. It may seem astonishing that the loss of that,
together with the lamp, did not drive the magician to despair; but
magicians are so much used to misfortunes that they do not lay them to
heart, but still feed themselves, to the end of life, with unsubstantial
notions and chimeras.
The surprise of Aladdin, who had never suspected this treachery from his
pretended uncle, is more easily to be imagined than expressed. When he
found himself buried alive, he cried, and called out to his uncle, to
tell him he was ready to give him the lamp; but in vain, since his cries
could not be heard. He descended to the bottom of the steps, with a
design to get into the garden, but the door, which was opened before by
enchantment, was now shut by the same means. He then redoubled his
cries, sat down on the steps, without any hopes of ever seeing light
again, and in a melancholy certainty of passing from the present
darkness into that of a speedy death.
Aladdin remained in this state two days, without eating or drinking, and
on the third looked upon death as inevitable. Clasping his hands with
resignation to the will of God, he said: "There is no strength or power
but in the great and high God." In joining his hands he rubbed the ring
which the magician had put on his finger, and of which he knew not yet
the virtue. Immediately a genie of enormous size and frightful aspect
rose out of the earth, his head reaching the roof of the vault, and said
to him: "What wouldst thou have? I am ready to obey thee as the slave of
all who may possess the ring on thy finger; I, and the other slaves of
that ring."
At another time, Aladdin, who had not been used to such appearances,
would have been so frightened at the sight of so extraordinary a figure
that he would not have been able to speak; but the danger he was in made
him answer without hesitation: "Whoever thou art, deliver me from this
place, if thou art able." He had no sooner spoken these words, than he
found himself on the very spot where the magician had caused the earth
to open.
It was some time before his eyes could bear the light, after being so
long in total darkness: but after he had endeavoured by degrees to
support it, and began to look about him, h
|