eath.'

In vain he asserted that he was only a carpet-spreader, nobody believed
him, and he received so many blows from different quarters, that at last
he was obliged to roar out that he was a merchant.

But I, who judged from the appearance of the man that he could not be
a merchant, but that he was what he owned himself to be, assured my
companions that they had got but a sorry prize in him, and advised
them to release him; but immediately I was assailed in my turn with a
thousand maledictions, and was told, that if I chose to take part with
my countrymen, I should share their fate, and become a slave again--so
I was obliged to keep my peace and permit the ruffians to have their own
way.

Their speculation in man-stealing having proved so unfortunate, they
were in no very good humour with their excursion, and there was a great
difference of opinion amongst them, what should be done with such
worthless prisoners. Some were for keeping the cadi, and killing the
poet and the ferash, and others for preserving the cadi for ransom, and
making the ferash a slave; but all seemed to be for killing the poet.

I could not help feeling much compassion for this man, who in fact
appeared to be from his manners, and general deportment, a man of
consequence, although he had pleaded poverty; and seeing it likely to
go very hard with him, I said, 'What folly are you about to commit? Kill
the poet! why it will be worse than killing the goose with the golden
egg. Don't you know that poets are sometimes very rich, and can, if they
choose, become rich at all times, for they carry their wealth in
their heads? Did you never hear of the king who gave a famous poet a
_miscal_[18] of gold for every stanza which he composed? Is not the same
thing said of the present Shah? And--who knows?--perhaps your prisoner
may be the King's poet himself.'

'Is that the case?' said one of the gang; 'then let him make stanzas for
us immediately, and if they don't fetch a miscal each, he shall die.'

'Make on! make on!' exclaimed the whole of them to the poet, elated by
so bright a prospect of gain; 'if you don't, we'll cut your tongue out.'

At length it was decided that all three should be preserved, and that as
soon as they had made a division of the booty, we should return to the
plains of Kipchak.

Aslan then called us together, and every man was obliged to produce what
he had stolen. Some brought bags of silver and others gold. Nor did they
conf