tment; and as
he watched the butterflies flitting gayly about among the groves and
beds of many-colored flowers, sipping their sweets, without labor or
satiety, he often wished that he was like them gifted with wings to
cut the trackless regions of the air, and freed from all the miseries
of disappointed hope, inflamed imagination, and memory, which too
often brings with it nothing but the sting of remorse. By degrees he
rendered himself still more miserable by envying the happiness of
these gilded epicures, and it became the dearest wish of his heart to
become a butterfly, that he might pass his life among the flowers, and
banquet on their sweets like them.

One day as he sat buried in these contemplations, his attention was
attracted by a butterfly more beautiful than any he had ever seen
before. Its body was of imperial purple, glossy and soft as velvet;
its eyes shone like the diamonds of Golconda; its wings were of the
color of the deep blue skies of Damascus, sprinkled with glittering
stars; its motions were swift and graceful beyond all others, and it
seemed to revel in the bliss of the dewy roses and honeysuckles, with
a zest which made Adakar only repine the more, that he had lost the
capacity of enjoyment by abusing the bounties of fortune.

"Allah!" exclaimed he, "if I were only that butterfly!" At that moment
the luxurious vagrant, in the midst of its careless sports, and
voluptuous banquet, became entangled in a web woven by a great black
spider, which sat with eager impatience waiting until it had wound
itself into the toils by its fruitless exertions, that he might seize
and devour his prey. The heart of Adakar melted with pity; starting up
from the spot where he was reclining, he gently seized the little
glittering captive and rescued it from the fangs of the spider, which
at the same instant disappeared among the foliage of the orange trees.

Adakar sat down with the butterfly in his hand, and was contemplating
its beautiful colors with increasing envy as well as admiration, when
he thought he heard a low silvery whisper come from he knew not
whither. He gazed around wistfully, but could see no tiny thing but
the little captive in his hand, and was about setting it free, when
another whisper, more distinct met his ear. "Adakar," it seemed to
say, "thou hast saved me from the jaws of a devouring monster. I am a
fairy transformed for a time by the malice of a wicked enchanter, and
fairies are never ung