“Trust is the glue of friendship.”

When friends do not trust each other, they both fall into trouble. The fox and the wolf live together, but the wolf is a bully, and secretly the fox hates him. They both find themselves at the bottom of a trap set by a man. Their only hope of escape is to trust one another. Can a wolf trust a fox? And vice versa?

Read by Elizabeth.
Adapted by Bertie from the 1001 nights.
Duration 18 minutes.

The Wolf and the Fox, from the 1001 Nights

Praise be to Allah, Sherehezade is married to the Sultan Sharyar. He says to her: “My eloquent Queen, I love stories about animals: although they live apart from us, their friendships and fights are like ours in so many ways. There is much wisdom to be had from tales of their world.”

And Sherehezade replied, “Oh Great One, you are right to say that there is much we can learn from the Animal Kingdom. And one such story comes to my mind. It is a tale of betrayal and trust. It is a story about The Wolf and the Fox. ”

And the Sultan rested his head on his hand, and stretched out on the couch to listen to her story.

The Wolf and the Fox had so much in common that they were like brothers. They both loved to steal and to hunt, but given the choice, they would always prefer to steal. These two strong-pawed bandits of the animal world lived together in one den. But the Wolf was far bigger and more powerful than the fox, and he thought himself to be the better of the pair. The Fox, though smaller, knew that he was much smarter than the wolf, and he resented the way that the Wolf always acted like he was the Big Boss.

One day, as they sat in the sun outside their cave, the Fox said to the Wolf:

“My friend. You are like a brother to me. So let me give you some kind advice. Mend your ways. Be a bandit no more. Do not steal from the Son of Adam again”. (By the Son of Adam he meant Man).

The Wolf turned his great head to his friend, and lifted up one shaggy ear. The Fox went on:

“I know how you love to creep into man’s vineyard, dig up his vines, and eat his grapes. I know how you like to jump into his fields and steal his lambs. I also see how he hates you for this, and how he is planning your destruction. You would be wise to fear him for he is full of cunning. He knows how to shoot birds down from the sky, how to lift fish from the water, how to burn wood, and how to cut up rocks. Someone that smart is bound to out-wit one like you eventually. So do as I advise: Make peace with the Son of Adam, and steal from him no more.”

The Wolf listened, and he did not welcome these words, for he felt deep down that the Fox was insulting him. Did he mean to hint that he was just a bit stupid? Or at any rate, he realised that the Fox thought himself to be far cleverer than him. And so he lifted up his great paw, and punched his friend hard in the face. The poor animal went rolling over and over and was quite stunned. When he staggered back to his feet the Wolf growled at him:

“It is not for you to advise your betters.”

It took the Fox a moment or two to recover himself. When he could manage a smile he said softly: “Of course, you are right Brother Wolf. Forgive me. I am full of regret for my sin against you, whom I love more than any other creature in the world.”

And the Wolf looked him up and down, saw that the Fox was fittingly afraid of him, and added in a stern voice:

“Learn from this lesson. Don’t poke your nose into other people’s business.”

The Fox bowed his head and said:

“To hear your voice is to obey, my brother.”

“That’s more like it,” said the Wolf. “At least those were wise words said in the right place.”

“Oh yes,” said the Fox, more humbly than ever, “As the poet once said, the blow of a teacher is at first hurtful, but in the end it is sweeter than honey.”

And from that time on, he was always careful to show the Wolf the greatest respect, and to flatter him whenever possible. But inwardly he hated the tyrant, and was looking for the chance to take his revenge. The months passed, and the Wolf forgot all about the incident, but the Fox did not. One day, he was skulking along the wall of the vineyard, looking for a way to sneak in and steal some grapes, when he found a hole large enough for a fox – even for a wolf – to creep through.

At first he was delighted, and then he thought to himself, “This is to good to be true. I think The Son of Adam is plotting something here.” And he stretched through the hole and gently tapped the ground on the other side with his paw. It was just as he thought. The man had laid sticks and leaves across a deep pit. It was a trap to catch a thief.

“Praised be Allah that I have found this cunning trap!” said the Fox happily, “And may my enemy the Wolf fall straight into it !” And he ran back to the den with a spring in his step.

“Good news,” he said as the Wolf was just shaking off his sleep. “I have found an easy way into the vineyard. You can sneak in and fill your belly with man’s juicy grapes. The ripe fruit is shining on the vines, ready for you to eat.”

The Wolf had no reason to doubt the Fox’s words, and he went trotting off to the vineyard in search of a delicious and easy breakfast. He found the hole in the wall, just where the Fox had told him to look, and he easily crawled through it – but on the other side he fell through the sticks and leaves tumbled straight down into the the trap. The Fox saw his friend’s misfortune, and he was jubilant.

“At last fortune has taken pity on me! Greed has pulled the Wolf down to his doom!”

And with tears in his eyes, he peered over the edge of the pit and saw the sorrowful Wolf looking up at him:

“My one true friend,” said the Wolf, “I see that you are crying for me.”

“No! Not one bit !” laughed the Fox. “I am crying because I am thinking how long you lived before this day, and I am sad because you didn’t fall into this deep hole sooner.”

These cruel words stunned and hurt the wolf even more than his fall had done. Quite shocked, he replied:

“In the name of Allah, have mercy on your brother. Go and speak to my mother. She will know what to do and will bring help.”

But the Fox was quite unmoved by the Wolf’s plea. He snarled up his muzzle to show his yellow teeth and said:

“You stupid, witless beast, why should I help you who have been a tyrant over me?”

“But, but” pleaded the Wolf, “You have always protested your love for me. You have sworn to be my servant. You have promised to look after me, even in my old age. How can you turn against me like this?”

“Oh you deluded, self-deceiving fool,” jeered the Fox, “That was my fear talking, not my heart. In truth I hate you for you are a bully and a brute.”

Still unable to fully believe these words, the Wolf, half thinking that his friend was joking, said, “I pray, Do not speak to me with the tongue of an enemy. Do not look at me with the eyes of a foe. For the wise poet spoke well when he said: ‘Forgiveness is noble, and kindness is the best of treasures’.”

“Oh now you beg and scrape,” said the Fox, “But that is only because you are down there in the dark hole, and I am up here in the sun.”

“If you rescue me from this pit, I shall repent my ways!” howled the Wolf. But the Fox just laughed at him.

And at last the Wolf realised that his former friend truly did hate him, that there was no hope in him helping him, and all was lost. He began to weep and howl more piteously ever.

Now, even the Fox had a place in his heart that was not either filled with hatred or cunning, At last he was moved by the fate of the Wolf. He went over to the hole and said:

“My friend. Why are you crying so? I was only joking when I said those words. Here, pull on my tail and heave yourself out.” And so saying he dangled his red bushy tail into the hole for the Wolf to take hold of. But the Wolf, full of dumb desire for revenge, did not make use of the tail to save himself. Instead, he seized it, pulled the Fox down into the hole with him, and growled triumphantly:

“So now you have fallen into the snare of your own intent, you traitor, and in it, you shall share my fate!”

The Fox, full of fear, began to beg and scrape: “Oh Brave and powerful master, do not strike me and kill me now, or you will not benefit from my plan and we shall both die here. Is it not better that we should both save ourselves?”

The Wolf, already feeling a little calmer, began to regret that he had not saved himself when he had the chance, and he asked:

“And how exactly do you propose to save us?”

“Easy,” said the Fox, “Lift me up on your head, and I can scramble out of this pit. I will run and fetch a vine to use as a rope to help you climb out.”

But the Wolf shook his shaggy head and said: “Oh Fox, I respect you for never giving up, but I am not the fool you take me to be. As the poet said, ” The worst of enemies is your nearest friend. Greet him with a smiling face, but be ready to do battle with him.” And that is why I do not trust your words. No. It would be a bad thing for me to die here alone. You shall wait here with me, and we shall die together when the man comes and finds us trapped here.”

“Wise words,” said the Fox, “But not for every case. It cannot be right to always be suspicious. Trust is the glue of friendship. Without trust, each one of us is on his own. Without Trust there can be no working together. The choice is yours. Trust me or die. What have you to lose? For if you do not trust me, your number’s up anyway.”

Now the Wolf, who of course did hope to live, saw that he had little to lose by helping the Fox, and he lifted him up on his head. The Fox grasped at the edge of the hole with his claws, got a hold of a vine, and scrambled up into the daylight.

“Be sure to keep your word,” called up the Wolf, “Run and fetch that rope and pull me out.”

“Ha! HA!” cried, the Fox, Not a Chance! If I help you out, you will take your revenge and kill me. ” And he ran off up the hill towards the village. There he started to make a great din, so much so that the man came out holding a rake in his hand. He saw the Fox and started to chase him. The Fox turned and ran, meaning to lead him to the pit where he would find the wolf and kill him. But as he ran, the fox thought: “Is it not sad that we are all alone in this world, and can trust no one.”

And when he reached the pit, he dangled his tail down into the hole once again and said:

“Wolf, quick, pull yourself out by my tail. If you drag me down into the pit once again, we are both dead, because the man is no more than a minute away. Be wise. See that we are joined together by our common enemy. Either we live or die together.”

And the Wolf, seeing that he had but one chance to live, pulled himself out by the Fox’s tail and ran for the woods. The Fox ran too, but in a different direction, because he did not wish to debate trust and suspicion with the Wolf again. There was too much danger in that discussion.

And as Sherehezade reached the end of her story, the light of morning began to creep in through the window.

“That was truly a wonderful and instructive story,” said the Sultan. “How right I was when I said that we have much to learn from stories of the animals.”

“Your instructions were indeed wise’, said Sherehezade, ‘and if you shall spare my life today, tomorrow night I will tell you another tale even more wonderful. And the Sultan, who delighted in her stories, could hardly wait for the next of the 1001 nights.

And that was the story of the Fox and the Wolf. We don’t quite have a 1001 stories on Storynory.com yet, but we do have several hundred free audio tales, and they should be enough to keep you going for quite a while. So be like the Sultan, and listen to a Story every night.

Sherehezade is married to the Sultan. All his many previous brides have been beheaded the morning after their wedding. Her plan to stay alive is to keep the terrible tyrant amused with stories, always leaving him wanting more.

Her first story is an amusing tale which she heard from her father. It tells of a crafty donkey who advises a bull how to avoid work. He does not realise that their master can understand the speech of animals and will outwit him. But there is a twist to the tale. The master’s wife demands to know what the animals have said, but he cannot tell her or else he will die.

Bertie has adapted this story from the rather racy, x-rated (and no doubt true to the original), translation of the 1001 nights by the famous Victorian explorer, Richard Burton. We try to keep the spirit of the original as much as possible – and in fact we think this is much closer than most children’s versions out there – but there’s a lot in the 1001 Nights that just wouldn’t quite do for a children’s site.

Read by Elizabeth. Duration 19.30. Adaptation by Bertie.

Praise be to Allah, Sherehezade is married to the Sultan Sharyar. All the many brides of the sultan, who came before her have been put to death on the first morning of their marriage. It is late in the night, and the dawn is but a few hours away. The newly weds cannot sleep, and Sherehezade begins to tell her husband a story.

There was once a merchant who was rich in cattle and camels. He lived in the country with his wife and family and devoted himself to farming. Now, Allah in his wisdom had given him the power to understand the speech of all kinds of animals and birds. But this great gift came with a condition: he must not tell any human being what he heard the animals to say or he would surely die on the spot.

One evening he was sitting by the stables while he watched his children playing in the hay, when he heard his bull talking in his deep lowing voice:

“Oh donkey, ” he was saying to his fellow animal, “How come you have the best barley, the freshest water, and the easiest life? You stay here in doors all day while the men wait upon you like servants, sweeping your stall, and brushing your coat until it shines. But as for me, they lead me out to work at the call of the dawn prayer. The men make me wear a thing called a yoke around my shoulders and it is heavy and uncomfortable. They crack whips over my back and force me to pull the plough through the fields from morning to sunset. My life is nothing but toil and trouble. But your duties are light and pleasant. Once every two weeks, you carry the master to the market on your back. He is not fat, and the burden is not great, and on the way he learns to like you and appreciate you. Your life is so much better than mine. Dear donkey, pray do help me. Tell me how I can live like you?”

You can imagine how the merchant was intrigued by this conversation, and how he tuned in his ears in to make sure that he did not miss a word. He heard the donkey laugh with a great Eeeee-ore! and reply to the bull:

“Why you big old fool ! You are ten times as strong as I am, and yet you let the humans treat you without any respect for your superior force . Don’t you have any sense ? Do your horns grow inside your head where your brains should be? Listen to your wiser and better brother, and your problems shall be done and dusted. Do not show willingness for work, or of course the men will take advantage of you. When they come in the morning, and try to place the thing called a yoke over your neck, toss your head. When they try to drive you out to the fields, lie down in your manger and refuse to move. They cannot make a great hulk like you even budge and inch if you do not wish it. Bellow like you are angry or ill. They will soon get the message and leave you alone.”

The merchant heard all the words of the donkey, and he was curious to see whether the bull would head his advice. It was therefore not entirely surprising to him when, the next morning, the steward came to him, looking anxious and worried and and said:

“Sir, something has got into the bull. Perhaps it is a demon, or perhaps he is ill. When we try to put the yoke on his neck, he tosses his head so that we cannot manage it. When we try to drive him out of the stall, he bellows at us and paws the ground with his front leg. And now, finally, he is lying down in the straw. What are we to do sir? We cannot force the bull to go out into the fields if he does not wish it. He is far to big and strong.”

The merchant understood only to well what was wrong with the bull. He was not ill, and no demon had bedevilled him. All that had happened was that he was following the advice of his friend the donkey. The merchant had already decided what must be done. He would teach the donkey a lesson. He said to his steward:

“If the bull does not wish to work, then let him take a well earned rest. Put the yoke on the donkey, and make him plough the fields today, for it is only fair that he takes his share of the hard work.”

And following their master’s orders, the men placed the yoke over the shoulders of the donkey, and they dragged him out to the fields. When he stubbornly dug his heels into the ground, they cracked whips over his back. He had no choice but to pull the heavy plough through the earth all day, even though the sun was hot, and his mouth was dry. When at last he came back to his stall in the evening, his legs were weak and and his whole body was weary. He saw the bull lying down in clean straw, looking rested and happy. Indeed the bull welcomed him home cheerily saying:

“My true friend, the kind and wonderful donkey, I have done exactly as you advised me, and today I have enjoyed rest, water, and good food. I thank you from the bottom of my bull’s heart for your words of wisdom. “

But the donkey had little to say just then. He was unusually quiet beacuse he was so weary. He took a long drink of water and lay down in his hay, utterly exhausted by his day’s work.

When the morning came, the merchant rose early for he wanted to see how his animals had fared. He peeped in through the window of the stables and he saw that the the bull was swishing his tale happily. They donkey was still lying down in his straw, feeling less than his best. The bull was saying:

“I am so looking forward to another day’s rest. When the men come for me, I shall again toss my head, paw the ground, and bellow with my great voice. Then I shall lie down and they will not be able to lead me out to work.”

As the donkey stood up, he felt that his legs were still shaky from the previous day’s toil in the fields. When he heard the bull’s plans to stay at home, he reflected: “Oh foolish me! I am not half as clever as I thought. I gave the bull good advice, but I did not foresee how it would rebound on me and how I would pay for it. Now I must play a trick on him, or I shall suffer once more.”

And so now he said to the bull:

“My friend, I have advised you well once, and now I shall advise you again. When the men come today, do not toss your head and refuse to take the yoke. Nor should you bellow with rage or lie down in your straw, if you care for your life. For yesterday, I heard the merchant speaking to his steward. He gave orders that if the bull does not work, he should take him to the butcher and make meat for the poor people, and leather for shoes and saddles.”

The bull thanked the donkey for once again giving him wise advice, and when the men came to fetch him from the stall, he willingly took the yoke and went out to the fields for his day’s work.

The merchant saw all that had happened, and all day long he was laughing and smiling to himself whenever he thought of the trick that he had played on the donkey.

Now the merchant had a wife, whom he had been married to for many years, and whom he loved dearly. She did not fail to notice that he was smiling to himself all day, and she asked him the reason. He said:

“My beloved, I am laughing at a conversation that I overheard between the animals, but I cannot tell it to you for I will surely die on the spot. Long ago, I prayed to Allah that I should understand the speech of all kinds of creatures, and in return for this favour I offered that if ever I should ever betray what I heard to another human soul, then I should die immediately.”

The merchant’s wife only grew more curious when she heard this reply, and demanded more and more vehemently that he should tell her what he had heard the animals say and that she should share in his amusement.

“But I shall surely die if I tell you !” he protested.

“Nonsense! There can be no secrets between man and wife. I shall leave you if you do not tell me! “ she replied.

The argument went on so long that the merchant could bear her sulking no longer. He sat down to write his will and worked with his steward to make sure that all his affairs were in order and his debts were paid before he died. Then he called all his family and his servants to a meeting and told them of his decision:

“This evening I shall relate to my wife what I heard of the conversation between the bull and the donkey, and then I must surely die. And therefore this is my last farewell. May Allah be praised and always be with you.”

And so saying, he went about the family and servants distributing small gifts so that the would remember him well.

Now when Sherehezade reached this part of the story, she said to the Sultan:

“But great one, I must halt my tale, for the sunlight is at our window and it is time to rise and meet whatever the day holds in store for us,”

And the Sultan, who had been listening very intently to the tale, and was greatly amused by it, was anxious to hear what happened next. Would the merchant really tell his wife what had happened, and die on the spot? He begged Sherehezade to finish the tale, but the call to Prayer was already echoing around the rooftops of the palace, and the maids were busy sweeping the courtyards.

The wise and lovely woman stroked the Sultan’s head, and said, “If it so pleases you, great master, I shall finish telling the tale this following night.”

And as the Sultan so wanted to know the end of the story, he gladly agreed to her suggestion, and Sherehezade lived through that day as his queen. The following night, she continued her story of the merchant:

All of the merchant’s household was in tears and even the dogs got to hear of the terrible news and began to howl. Only the cockerel strutted about the farm looking as proud and as pleased with himself as usual. He made his call to the hens:

“Cock-a-doo-dool-do!! “

The behaviour of the cockerel angered the farm dogs who said :

“Why do you make merry when we are in mourning for the master? Have you not heard that he is about to die? Do you not have any respect for him?”

And the proud cockerel replied:

“I am not sorry for the master. I have 50 wives and he has but one. He should understand better how to behave with his wife.”

And it so happened that the merchant, was sitting in his study overlooking the farmyard , and when he overheard this conversation, he felt ashamed that he had given in to despair and not handled the situation better. He thought to himself:

“I am shrewd in business, and know all there is to know about farming, but in my own home I am like a fool, and understand nothing of diplomacy. I must be as cunning as…. as the donkey.”

And with new hope in his heart, he went to his wife’s room, and knocked softly on the door: His wife’s voice called out from within:

“Are you now ready to tell me what you heard the animals say that was so amusing?”

And the merchant replied that he was ready, and he came into the room:

“My dear, it is all very simple,” he explained. “The bull spoke like this:”

“LOWWWWWW!”

and the donkey replied like this

“EEEE-AWWWW!

And then the dogs said

“AOWWWWWW!”

and the cockerel said

“Cock-a-doodle-do!”

And when she heard her husband speak like this, the wife laughed so much that she forgot her anger and was happy.

And that was the very first story of the 1001 Nights that Sherehezade told to the Sultan, enchanting and amusing the cruel tyrant with her words and in so doing softening his heart. When she had finished the tale, her sister, Dunyazad, who shared the room with them spoke up and said:

“Your excellence, do you wish my sister to tell you another tale? For she has a great many others , some even more wonderful than this one.

And the Sultan who was not sleepy, said that he would gladly hear another tale, if it was as entertaining as the one they had just heard, and so Sherehezade began the second story of the 1001 nights.

But if you would like to hear it, you will have to come back another time to Storynory.com. We do of course have many stories on the site,including classic stories, adaptations and originals, all of which you can download for free.

The world’s most famous collection of magical stories originated in Persia and only later became known in the West as the “Arabian” Nights. The collection includes stories, within stories, within stories. This is the story that wraps around them all.

A terrible sultan marries a new bride every night, and in the morning he executes her. Only Sherehezade, the greatest story-teller the world has known, has a chance to soften the heart of the man with a tyrannical grudge against all women.

The backdrop is quite harsh, but the stories are wonderful.

Read by Elizabeth. Version by Bertie. Duration 15 minutes.

Praise be to Allah, the beneficent king, the creator of the universe, Lord of the three worlds, who set up the sky without pillars to hold it aloft, who stretched out the earth like a bed, and who filled the ocean like a bath. Lend me the art and the craft of she who outwitted a great king. Of she who for 1001 nights captivated the shah, while she threaded her plots around him, the woman whose stories held conquered the all-powerful man, and prevented him from carrying out his terrible intent. I speak of her, Sherehezade, the greatest storyteller the world has ever known.

She lived in a time of sorrow for the ruler of the land held in his heart an awful grudge against all women. This grudge had terrible consequences for every family in the land. But it was not always so. He began his reign with a kinder heart. His name was Shahryar, He was in the fullness of his youth and power, but as yet, without a wife. One evening he stood with his younger brother, prince Zaman, on the balcony of the palace, which overlooked the pleasure gardens. They watched a young serving girl as she stepped out to the fountain to fetch water.

Shahryar whispered: “See brother. Is she not as lovely as the moon and as graceful as a gazelle?”

But Zaman, replied: “Do not let your eyes deceive you. Although you are older than me, and more powerful, yet I am more experienced in the ways of women, for I already have a wife. I tell you no woman on earth has a pure and faithful heart. Each day I watch my queen. I see her give a visiting prince such a look that makes my blood turn angry. But it does not stop there. She gives the chief chamberlain a cheeky smile that is quite inappropriate. Why, the day before I left my palace to pay honour to you, I saw her whispering to the cook! She brings nothing but shame upon me.“

Shahryar laughed “ My younger brother, you have been looking pale and ill of late. Now I know the cause. Jealousy is eating you up because you have such a lovely wife ! “

At this Zaman became quite offended, but he replied in no more than a mutter: “My brother, you will learn for yourself in due time.”

Shahryar was ready to marry. It seemed that wherever he looked he saw a beautiful woman. But none so lovely as the one the two brothers encountered the very next day. They got up at dawn to go hunting. Just as the sun was spreading its gentle rays, they rode their horses side by side along the sea shore. Walking to towards them, along the deserted beach, they saw a girl whose loveliness brought to mind the words:

She rose like the morn, as she shone through the night.
When she unveiled her face, the sun grew bright.

As the brothers drew near to her, she gave them the sort of smile that gladdens a man’s heart and Shahryar said to his brother:

“I would not be ashamed to take her for my queen.”

But no sooner had he spoken, than a huge wave came curling into the shore, and standing on top of the wave as a great geni. His skin was orange and his eyes blazing red.

As the wave broke into white foam the genie leapt onto the beach, and seized the girl up in his hands. He turned his awful eyes on the brothers, and they were so full of fire that they feared his gaze might burn them up. Then he spoke. His voice was terrible, but his words showed that he intended them no harm:

“hear me now and learn from my troubles. When I took this girl for my bride, I set her inside a trunk, and I placed the trunk inside another trunk, and that trunk inside yet another trunk – seven boxes in all, each with its own lock. And then I placed the sevenfold container at the bottom of the sea, so as to keep her faithful to me. But still she managed to escape, to flirt with strange men on the beach, and to bring shame upon me. If I, a genie with all the power of magic at my disposal cannot keep discipline over my bride, what hope have you mere men of doing so?”

As soon as he had issued this warning, both the genie and the girl span round and round until they became whirl wind that sped away across the sea.

For the rest of the day Shahryar was pale and brooding. By evening he had cheered up somewhat. As the brothers stood on the balcony overlooking the gardens, once again, he said:

“The remarkable occurrence of this morning has made a great impression on me. I see now that you are right. The genie has confirmed what you say. There was never one faithful woman on this earth. But I have thought deeply about this problem all day long, and I have formed a plan.

It was not long before his brother and everyone in the land found out what the Shah had in mind.

As he sat on his throne the next day, giving orders to his ministers about this and that, he sent for his chief minister, a man who had served him for many years, and who had two lovely daughters whom in time, we shall meet, ishallah ! God Willing!

He commanded the minister to bring a bride to him that very evening, and in the morning to take her way to be executed. Each and every day he was to do the same, to bring another bride for him to marry, and in the morning to strike off her head. And so it came to pass for three years on end. There was not a family in the land that was not touched by this tragedy. The people cried out against their shah, and called on Allah to destroy him and his reign utterly. But his heart was relentless. By this terrible plan he made sure that none of his people would ever gather in a corner and gossip that his queen was faithless to him either in thought or deed.

Mothers wept or fled abroad with their daughters. At last there was hardly a woman left in the city who was of marriageable age. At last, one day, as the minster searched the city, he could not find a bride for the shah that night. He returned home in sorrow and anxiety, for he was afraid for his own life when he failed that evening to present a new bride to the Shah.

Now he had two daughters, Sherehezade and Dunyazad [ending is long like a= ‘ard’’]. The eldest had read all the books, legends and stories in the library of the palace. She knew a great many poems off by heart, and had studied philosophy and the arts. She was pleasant, polite, wise and witty. She saw that her father was looking sad and she quoted some lines of a poem to him;

Tell whoso hath sorrow
Grief shall never last.
Even as joy hath no morrow
so woe shall go past

When the minister heard these words from his daughter, he told her the cause of his sorrow from first to last. When she had heard it all Sherehezade exclaimed:

“Who long shall we endue this slaughter of women? I will tell you what is on my mind. Take me to the Shah this night. Let me be his bride. Either I shall live by my whits and save the daughters of this land, or I shall join those who have perished already. “

The minister heard these words, and although he greatly respected his daughter’s wisdom, he thought these words were the greatest foolishness he had ever heard. he would not hear of his beloved daughter risking her life in this way. He went to the Shah and confessed that he was unable to bring him any more brides, for there were none left in the land. Shah Shahryar sat thoughtfully on this thrown and said:

“None, but your own two daughters. Do not hide them from me, or it will cost you your head.”

And so it was, after long deliberation, and much persuasion from Sherehezade, that he brought his own daughter to the shah as his bride.

That night, when the Sherehezade lifted the veil from her lovely face, the Shah was pleased with what he saw. But there were tears in her eyes.

“What troubles you?” asked the Shah, thinking that he knew the answer. But she replied not that she was afraid of what would happen to her in the morning, but that she was missing her sister. She begged that she could bring her to sleep with them that night, so that she would not be lonely. The shah willingly agree, and all went according to the plan that the ingenious Sherehezade had formed. Her sister Dunyazad slept on a couch at the foot of the royal bed, and towards morning, as she been told to do by her sister, she awoke and said:

“Oh Sherehezade, I cannot sleep. Will you not tell me one of your wonderful stories? For there is not a soul on this earth who can spin a tale as delightful and delectable as yours?’

And Sherehezade stirred and said: “I too cannot sleep and I will tell you a tale with joy, if this great king will permit me. “

The Shah, who was also sleepless and restless, was pleased with the prospect of hearing a tale. And so Sherehezade began to relate the first story of the 1001 and one nights.

This story from the 1001 nights tells of hidden treasure and magical powers. It will remind you a little of Aladdin or Ali Baba, but it’s more serious. The Blind Beggar of Baghdad is a warning about how greed can drive you mad.

The has some basis in fact. Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid was a true-life ruler of Baghdad. The Dervishes were holy men and sources of wisdom, medicine, and poetry. As for the blind beggar of the story, it’s hard to say whether he really lived or not – but many like him did !

Read by Natasha. Duration 24.28

The Caliph Haroun-al-Raschid sat in his palace, wondering if there was anything left in the world that could possibly give him a few hours’ amusement, when Giafar the grand-vizir, his old and tried friend, suddenly appeared before him. Bowing low, he waited, as was his duty, till his master spoke, but Haroun-al-Raschid merely turned his head and looked at him, and sank back into his former weary posture.

Now Giafar had something of importance to say to the Caliph, and had no intention of being put off by mere silence, so with another low bow in front of the throne, he began to speak.

“Commander of the Faithful,” said he, “May I remind your Highness of your plan to observe how justice is done and order is kept throughout the city? For this is the day you have set apart to devote to this aim. Perhaps in fulfilling this duty, you may find some distraction from the melancholy to which, as I see to my sorry, you are prey.”

“You are right,” returned the Caliph, “I had forgotten all about it. Go and change your coat, and I will change mine.”

A few moments later they both re-entered the hall, disguised as foreign merchants, and passed through a secret door, out into the open country. Here they turned towards the Euphrates, and crossing the river in a small boat, walked through that part of the town which lay along the further bank, without seeing anything to call for their interference. Much pleased with the peace and order of the city, the Caliph and his vizir made their way to a bridge, which led straight back to the palace, and had already crossed it, when they were stopped by an old and blind man, who begged for alms.

The Caliph gave him a piece of money, and was passing on, but the blind man seized his hand, and held him fast.

“Charitable person,” he said, “whoever you may be grant me yet another prayer. Strike me, I beg you, one blow. I have deserved it richly, and even a more severe penalty.”

The Caliph, much surprised at this request, replied gently: “My good man, that which you ask is impossible. Of what use would my alms be if I treated you so ill?” And as he spoke he began to loosen the grasp of the blind beggar.

“My lord,” answered the man, “pardon my boldness and my persistence. Take back your money, or give me the blow which I crave. and if you knew all, you would feel that the punishment is not a tenth part of what I deserve.”

Moved by these words, and perhaps still more by the fact that he had other business to attend to, the Caliph yielded, and struck him lightly on the shoulder. Then he continued his road, followed by the blessing of the blind man. When they were out of earshot, he said to the vizir, “There must be something very odd to make that man act so–I should like to find out what is the reason. Go back to him; tell him who I am, and order him to come without fail to the palace to-morrow, after the hour of evening prayer.”

The next day, after evening prayer, the Caliph entered the hall, and was followed by the vizir bringing with him the two men of whom we have spoken, and a third, with whom we have nothing to do. They all bowed themselves low before the throne and then the Caliph bade them rise, and ask the blind man his name.

“Baba-Abdalla, your Highness,” said he.

“Baba-Abdalla,” returned the Caliph, “your way of asking alms yesterday seemed to me so strange, that I almost commanded you then and there to cease from causing such a public scandal. But I have sent for you to inquire what was your motive in making such a curious vow. When I know the reason I shall be able to judge whether you can be permitted to continue to practice it, for I cannot help thinking that it sets a very bad example to others. Tell me therefore the whole truth, and conceal nothing.”

I was born, Commander of the Faithful, in Baghdad, and was left an orphan while I was yet a very young man, for my parents died within a few days of each other. I had inherited from them a small fortune, which I worked hard night and day to increase, till at last I found myself the owner of eighty camels. These I hired out to traveling merchants, whom I frequently accompanied on their various journeys, and always returned with large profits.

One day I was coming back from Balsora, whither I had taken a supply of goods, intended for India, and halted at noon in a lonely place, which promised rich pasture for my camels. I was resting in the shade under a tree, when a dervish, going on foot towards Balsora, sat down beside me, and I inquired whence he had come and to what place he was going. We soon made friends, and after we had asked each other the usual questions, we produced the food we had with us, and satisfied our hunger.

While we were eating, the dervish happened to mention that in a spot only a little way off from where we were sitting, there was hidden a treasure so great that if my eighty camels were loaded till they could carry no more, the hiding place would seem as full as if it had never been touched.

At this news I became almost beside myself with joy and greed, and I flung my arms round the neck of the dervish, exclaiming: “Good dervish, I see plainly that the riches of this world are nothing to you, therefore of what use is the knowledge of this treasure to you? Alone and on foot, you could carry away a mere handful. But tell me where it is, and I will load my eighty camels with it, and give you one of them as a token of my gratitude.”

The dervish saw quite well what was passing in my mind, but he did not show what he thought of my proposal.

“My brother,” he answered quietly, “you know as well as I do, that you are behaving unjustly. Before I reveal to you the secret of the treasure, you must swear that, after we have loaded the camels with as much as they can carry, you will give half to me, and let us go our own ways. I think you will see that this is fair, for if you present me with forty camels, I on my side will give you the means of buying a thousand more.”

I could not of course deny that what the dervish said was perfectly reasonable, but, in spite of that, the thought that the dervish would be as rich as I was unbearable to me. Still there was no use in discussing the matter, and I had to accept his conditions or bewail to the end of my life the loss of immense wealth. So I collected my camels and we set out together under the guidance of the dervish. After walking some time, we reached what looked like a valley, but with such a narrow entrance that my camels could only pass one by one. The little valley, or open space, was shut up by two mountains, whose sides were formed of straight cliffs, which no human being could climb.

When we were exactly between these mountains the dervish stopped.

“Make your camels lie down in this open space,” he said, “so that we can easily load them; then we will go to the treasure.”

I did what I was bid, and rejoined the dervish, whom I found trying to kindle a fire out of some dry wood. As soon as it was alight, he threw on it a handful of perfumes, and said a few words that I did not understand, and immediately a thick column of smoke rose high into the air. He separated the smoke into two columns, and then I saw a rock, which stood like a pillar between the two mountains, slowly open, and a splendid palace appear within.

But, Commander of the Faithful, the love of gold had taken such possession of my heart, that I could not even stop to examine the riches, but fell upon the first pile of gold within my reach and began to heap it into a sack that I had brought with me.

The dervish likewise set to work, but I soon noticed that he confined himself to collecting precious stones, and I felt I should be wise to follow his example. At length the camels were loaded with as much as they could carry, and nothing remained but to seal up the treasure, and go our ways.

Before, however, this was done, however, the dervish went up to a great golden vase, beautifully chased, and took from it a small wooden box, which he hid in the bosom of his dress, merely saying that it contained a special kind of ointment. Then he once more lit the fire, threw on the perfume, and murmured the unknown spell, and the rock closed.

The next thing was to divide the camels, and to load them with the treasure. The demon of envy filled my soul. “What does a dervish want with riches like that?” I said to myself. “He alone has the secret of the treasure, and can always get as much as he wants.”

“My brother,” I exclaimed, as soon as I could speak, “almost at the moment of our leave-taking, a reflection occurred to me, which is perhaps new to you. You are a dervish by profession, and live a very quiet life, only caring to do good, and careless of the things of this world. You do not realise the burden that you lay upon yourself, when you gather into your hands such great wealth, besides the fact that no one, who is not accustomed to camels from his birth, can ever manage the stubborn beasts. If you are wise, you will not encumber yourself with more than thirty, and you will find those trouble enough.”

“You are right,” replied the dervish, who understood me quite well. “I confess I had not thought about it. Choose any ten you like, and drive them before you.”

I selected ten of the best camels. I had got what I wanted, but I had found the dervish so easy to deal with, that I rather regretted I had not asked for ten more. I looked back. He had only gone a few paces, and I called after him.

“My brother,” I said, “I am unwilling to part from you without pointing out what I think you scarcely grasp, that large experience of camel-driving is necessary to anybody who intends to keep together a troop of thirty. In your own interest, I feel sure you would be much happier if you entrusted ten more of them to me, for with my practice it is all one to me if I take two or a hundred.”

As before, the dervish made no difficulties, and I drove off my ten camels in triumph, only leaving him with twenty for his share. I had now sixty, and anyone might have imagined that I should be content.

But, Commander of the Faithful, there is a proverb that says, “the more one has, the more one wants.” So it was with me. I could not rest as long as one solitary camel remained to the dervish; and returning to him I redoubled my prayers and embraces, and promises of eternal gratitude, till the last twenty were in my hands.

“Make a good use of them, my brother,” said the holy man. “Remember riches sometimes have wings if we keep them for ourselves, and the poor are at our gates expressly that we may help them.”

My eyes were so blinded by gold, that I paid no heed to his wise counsel, and only looked about for something else to grasp. Suddenly I remembered the little box of ointment that the dervish had hidden, and which most likely contained a treasure more precious than all the rest. Giving him one last embrace, I observed accidentally, “What are you going to do with that little box of ointment? It seems hardly worth taking with you; you might as well let me have it. And really, a dervish who has given up the world has no need of ointment!”

Oh, if he had only refused my request! But then, supposing he had, I should have got possession of it by force, so great was the madness that had laid hold upon me. However, far from refusing it, the dervish at once held it out, saying gracefully, “Take it, my friend, and if there is anything else I can do to make you happy you must let me know.”

Directly the box was in my hands I wrenched off the cover. “As you are so kind,” I said, “tell me, I pray you, what are the virtues of this ointment?”

“They are most curious and interesting,” replied the dervish. “If you apply a little of it to your left eye you will behold in an instant all the treasures hidden in the bowels of the earth. But beware lest you touch your right eye with it, or your sight will be destroyed for ever.”

His words excited my curiosity to the highest pitch. “Make trial on me, I implore you,” I cried, holding out the box to the dervish. “You will know how to do it better than I! I am burning with impatience to test its charms.”

The dervish took the box I had extended to him, and, bidding me shut my left eye, touched it gently with the ointment. When I opened it again I saw spread out, as it were before me, treasures of every kind and without number. But as all this time I had been obliged to keep my right eye closed, which was very fatiguing, I begged the dervish to apply the ointment to that eye also.

“If you insist upon it I will do it,” answered the dervish, “but you must remember what I told you just now–that if it touches your right eye you will become blind on the spot.”

Unluckily, in spite of my having proved the truth of the dervish’s words in so many instances, I was firmly convinced that he was now keeping concealed from me some hidden and precious virtue of the ointment. So I turned a deaf ear to all he said.

“My brother,” I replied smiling, “I see you are joking. It is not natural that the same ointment should have two such exactly opposite effects.”

“It is true all the same,” answered the dervish, “and it would be well for you if you believed my word.”

But I would not believe, and, dazzled by the greed of avarice, I thought that if one eye could show me riches, the other might teach me how to get possession of them. And I continued to press the dervish to anoint my right eye, but this he resolutely declined to do.

“After having conferred such benefits on you,” said he, “I am loth indeed to work you such evil. Think what it is to be blind, and do not force me to do what you will repent as long as you live.”

It was of no use. “My brother,” I said firmly, “pray say no more, but do what I ask. You have most generously responded to my wishes up to this time, do not spoil my recollection of you for a thing of such little consequence. Let what will happen I take it on my own head, and will never reproach you.”

“Since you are determined upon it,” he answered with a sigh, “there is no use talking,” and taking the ointment he laid some on my right eye, which was tight shut. When I tried to open it heavy clouds of darkness floated before me. I was as blind as you see me now!

“Miserable dervish!” I shrieked, “so it is true after all! Into what a bottomless pit has my lust after gold plunged me. Ah, now that my eyes are closed they are really opened. I know that all my sufferings are caused by myself alone! But, good brother, you, who are so kind and charitable, and know the secrets of such vast learning, have you nothing that will give me back my sight?”

“Unhappy man,” replied the dervish, “it is not my fault that this has befallen you, but it is a just punishment. The blindness of your heart has wrought the blindness of your body. Yes, I have secrets; that you have seen in the short time that we have known each other. But I have none that will give you back your sight. You have proved yourself unworthy of the riches that were given you. Now they have passed into my hands, whence they will flow into the hands of others less greedy and ungrateful than you.”

The dervish said no more and left me, speechless with shame and confusion, and so wretched that I stood rooted to the spot, while he collected the eighty camels and proceeded on his way to Balsora. I should soon have been dead of hunger and misery if some merchants had not come along the track the following day and kindly brought me back to Bagdad.

From a rich man I had in one moment become a beggar.

This, Commander of the Faithful, is my story.

When the blind man had ended the Caliph addressed him: “Baba-Abdalla, truly your sin is great, but you have suffered enough. Henceforth repent in private, for I will see that enough money is given you day by day for all your wants.”

At these words Baba-Abdalla flung himself at the Caliph’s feet, and prayed that honour and happiness might be his portion for ever.

And that was the story of the Blind Beggar of Baghdad. I do hope that you enjoyed it.

It’s packed with oriental mystique – not one, but two genies, wicked magicians, gold and jewels galore, a palace that is transported through thin air, a beautiful princes, and a poor boy who gets very lucky indeed.Aladdin is traditionally the makings of a Christmas Pantomime. Our version is adapted from Andrew Lang’s Blue Fairy Book(1889). You will find more background on how the Arabian Nights arrived in the English language at Myth and Folkore.

Read by Natasha. Duration 24 minutes.

Aladdin’s Lamp

Hello, this is Natasha, and Prince Bertie has asked me to tell you a story from a book called The 1001 Nights. The stories in this book were first told over 1000 years ago in Persia by a very clever woman called Scheherazade. The king wanted to cut off her head, but every night she kept him fascinated by telling him a story – and leaving it in a very exciting place so that he would want to find out what happened next. Eventually he forgot his evil intentions, and she kept her head. And this is one of her stories. It’s called Aladdin’s Lamp.

A long time ago, in Persia, a poor boy called Aladdin was playing with his friends in the streets of his city. A stranger came up to him and asked him if he was not the son of Mustapha the Tailor. “I am, sir” replied Aladdin; “but he died a long while ago.” When the stranger heard this, he embraced Aladdin saying, “My boy – I am your long lost uncle.” Aladdin ran home and told his mother all about this newly found relative, and she prepared supper for them all.

The next day, the uncle led Aladdin out far beyond the city gates. They journeyed onwards until late afternoon, but Aladdin did not feel tiered because his uncle told him so many interesting stories. Eventually they reached the foot of a mountain.

“We will go no farther,” said the false uncle – for in truth he was not Aladdin’s relative, but an African magician in disguise. “I will show you something wonderful”; he said. The magician lit a fire and threw some powder on it while saying some magical words. The earth trembled a little and a large bolder rolled to one side. Aladdin saw a flight of steps leading down into a dark cave. The opening was just large enough for a boy to pass through, but plainly the magician, who was rather fat, would not have managed to enter the cave himself. “Go down”, commanded the magician, “at the foot of those steps you will find an open door leading into three large halls. Pass through them without touching anything, or you will die instantly. These halls lead into a garden of fine fruit trees. Walk on until you come to table upon which stands a lighted lamp. Pour out the oil it contains, and bring it to me.”

Aladdin was afraid to disobey the magician, and went down the stares into the cave On the ground he found a ring, and despite the magician’s order not to touch anything, he picked it up and slipped it onto his finger. He did not die. Then he passed through the garden where he picked fruit from the trees. Later on, he found the lamp, just as the magician had said, and he went back up the stares to the mouth of the cave. The magician cried out: “Make haste and give me the lamp.” But Aladdin saw through his trick and understood that as soon as he handed over the lamp, the magician would replace the stone and he would be shut inside the cave, never to leave. And so Aladdin called out, “Let me out first, and only then will I give you the lamp”. The magician flew into a terrible rage, and throwing some more powder on to the fire, he said some more magic words, and the stone rolled back into its place.

For two days Aladdin remained trapped inside the cave. At last he clasped his hands in prayer, and in so doing rubbed the ring that he had picked off the ground. Immediately an enormous and frightful genie rose out of the earth, saying: “What wouldst thou with me? I am the Slave of the Ring, and will obey thee in all things.” Aladdin fearlessly replied: “Deliver me from this place!” whereupon the earth opened, and he found himself back at home. “Alas! child,” said his mother when she noticed him, “I have nothing to eat in the house. We will go hungry tonight.” Aladdin soothed her saying he would sell the lamp to get some money for food. As it was very dirty his mother began to rub it, that it might fetch a higher price. Instantly a hideous genie appeared, and asked what she would have. She fainted away, but Aladdin, snatching the lamp, said boldly: “Fetch me something to eat!” The genie returned with a silver bowl, twelve silver plates containing rich meats, two silver cups, and two bottles of wine. Aladdin’s mother, when she came to herself, said: “Where did you get this splendid feast?” “Ask not, but eat,” replied Aladdin.

One day the Sultan who ruled the city ordered that everyone was to stay at home and close his shutters while the Princess, his daughter, went to and from the bath. Aladdin was seized by a desire to see her face, which was very difficult, as she always went veiled. He hid himself behind the door of the bath, and peeped through a chink. The Princess looked so beautiful that Aladdin fell in love with her at first sight. He went home and told his mother that he loved the Princess so deeply that he could not live without her. His mother burst out laughing, but Aladdin at last persuaded her to go to the Sultan and request his daughter’s hand in marriage for her son. She fetched a napkin and laid in it the magic fruits from the enchanted garden, which sparkled and shone like the most beautiful jewels. She took these with her to please the Sultan. After waiting several days at the Palace, she was admitted to see the him. She threw herself down foot of the thrown and waited for several minutes until the Sultan said to her: “Old woman, and tell me what you want.” She hesitated, then told him of her son’s love for the Princess, only at the last moment remembering to open the napkin that contained the magical jewels. When the Sultan saw this wonderful present he was thunderstruck, and turning to the his chief adviser, the grand Vizier, he said: “Ought I not to give the Princess to one who values her at such a price?” The Vizier, who was hoping that his own son would marry the princess, begged the Sultan to delay the wedding for three months, during which time he hoped to make him a richer present. The Sultan agreed.

Aladdin waited patiently for his wedding day in three months time, but after two months his mother, going into the city to buy oil, found every one rejoicing, and asked what was going on. “Do you not know,” was the answer, “that the son of the Grand Vizier is to marry the Sultan’s daughter to-night?” Aladdin, who was stunned when he heard the news. but presently he took down the lamp and rubbed it. The genie appeared, saying, “What is thy will?” Aladdin replied: “The Sultan has broken his promise to me, and the Vizier’s son is to marry the Princess. My command is that that you bring the princess here so that the scoundral can’t have her.” “Your wish is my command” said the Genie, and in an instant the princess was sitting in Aladdin’s room still wearing her wedding dress. He told her not to be afraid, but she was utterly confused and quite terrified. The next morning, the genie took her back to the palace.

The Princess told her mother how she had been carried by magic to some strange house. Her mother did not believe her in the least, and the Sultan ordered that wedding should take place that evening instead.

The following night exactly the same thing happened. The Sultan was furious and even considered having his daughter’s head cut off. He summoned the Vizier’s son. “Plainly my daughter his hiding from you” he said. “Do you still wish to marry her?”

“Well” said the young man who was very proud and arrogant, “If the princess does not obey her father, the great Sultan, what hope is that she will make me a good wife? I give up my claim over her. Better that she marry the poorest beggar if that’s what she wants.”

When the three months were over, Aladdin sent his mother to remind the Sultan of his promise. She stood in the same place as before, and the Sultan, on seeing her poverty felt less inclined than ever to keep his word. The Vizier advised him to set so high a value on the Princess that no man living could come up to it. The Sultan then turned to Aladdin’s mother, saying: “Good woman, a Sultan must remember his promises, and I will remember mine, but your son must first send me forty basins of gold full of jewels. Tell him that I await his answer.”

When he heard this, Aladdin summoned up his genie and soon eighty slaves, splendidly dressed, were waiting in the alleyway outside his house. The slaves were carrying forty golden basins, brimming with jewels.

Aladdin mounted his horse and passed through the streets, the slaves strewing gold as they went. When the Sultan saw him he came down from his throne, embraced him, and led him into a hall where a feast was spread, intending to marry him to the Princess that very day. But Aladdin refused, saying, “I must build a palace fit for her,” and took his leave. Once home, he said to the genie: “Build me a palace of the finest marble, with four and twenty windows set with jasper, agate, and other precious stones.

At night the Princess said good-by to her father, and set out for Aladdin’s palace, with his mother at her side, and followed by the hundred slaves. She was charmed at the sight of Aladdin, who ran to receive her. “Princess,” he said, “blame your beauty for my boldness if I have displeased you.” After the wedding had taken place Aladdin led her into the hall, where a feast was spread, and she supped with him, after which they danced till midnight.

But far away in Africa the magician remembered Aladdin, and by his magic arts discovered that instead of perishing miserably in the cave, he had escaped, and had married a princess. He traveled night and day until he reached the city of Persia where Aladdin lived. Half mad with rage, he was determined to get hold of the lamp, and again plunge Aladdin into the deepest poverty.

Unluckily, Aladdin had gone a-hunting for eight days, which gave the magician plenty of time. He bought a dozen copper lamps, put them into a basket, and went to the palace, crying: “New lamps for old!” followed by a jeering crowd, laughing to see an old fool offering to exchange fine new lamps for old ones?” One of the Palace slaves said to the princess, “There is an old lamp on the cornice there which he can have.” Now this was the magic lamp, which Aladdin had left there, as he could not take it out hunting with him. The Princess, not knowing its value, went and said to the magician: “Give me a new lamp for this.” He snatched it amid the jeers of the crowd. Little he cared. He went out of the city gates to a lonely place where he pulled out the lamp and rubbed it. The genie appeared, and at the magician’s command carried him, together with the palace and the Princess in it, to far off Africa.

Next morning the Sultan looked out of the window toward Aladdin’s palace and rubbed his eyes, for it was gone. The Vizier put the strange disappearance of the palace and his daughter down to black magic, and this time the Sultan believed him. He and sent thirty men on horseback to fetch Aladdin in chains. “False wretch!” said the Sultan, “Where is my palace and my daughter?” Aladdin had no answer, but begged to be given forty days to discover the cause of the disaster. This the Sultan granted. For three days three days Aladdin wandered about like a madman, asking everyone what had become of his palace, but they only laughed and pitied him. He came to the banks of a river, and knelt down to say his prayers before throwing himself in. In so doing he rubbed the magic ring he still wore. The genie , and asked his will. “Save my life, genie,” said Aladdin, “bring my palace back.” “That is not in my power,” said the genie; “I am only the Slave of the Ring; you must ask him of the lamp.” “Even so,” said Aladdin, “but thou canst take me to the palace, and set me down under my dear wife’s window.” He at once found himself in Africa, under the window of the Princess.

That morning the Princess rose early and opened the window, and at the noise she made Aladdin looked up. She was astonished and delighted to see her dear husband’s face. After he had kissed her, Aladdin said: “I beg of you, Princess, in God’s name, tell me what has become of my old lamp. “Alas!” she said, “I am the innocent cause of our sorrows,” and she told him of the exchange of the lamp.

Aladdin comforted her, and gave her a small bottle containing a certain powder. “Put on your most beautiful dress,” he said to her “and receive the magician with smiles, leading him to believe that you have forgotten me. Invite him to sup with you, and say you wish to taste the wine of his country. He will go for some and while he is gone I will tell you what to do.”

That evening she received the magician, saying, to his great amazement: “I have made up my mind that Aladdin is dead, and that all my tears will not bring him back to me, so I am resolved to mourn no more, and have therefore invited you to sup with me; but let us try some wine of Africa.” The magician flew to his cellar, and the Princess put the powder Aladdin had given her into his cup. When he returned the magician made her a speech in praise of her beauty, but the Princess cut him short, saying: “Let us drink first, and you shall say what you will afterward.” She set her cup to her lips and kept it there, while the magician drained his to the dregs and fell back lifeless. Aladdin came into the room, went to the dead magician, took the lamp out of his clothes, and bade the genie carry the palace and all in it back to Persia. This was done in an instant.

The Sultan, who was sitting in his chamber, mourning for his lost daughter, happened to look up, and rubbed his eyes, for there stood the palace as before! He hastened over to it, and Aladdin received him with the Princess at his side. He told him what had happened, and showed him the dead body of the magician, that he might believe. A ten days’ feast was proclaimed, and it seemed as if Aladdin might now live the rest of his life in peace; but it was not to be.

The African magician had a younger brother, who was, if possible, more wicked and more cunning than himself. He traveled to Persia to avenge his brother’s death, and disguised himself in skirts and veils so that he looked exactly like a famous holy woman called Fatima. Then he went toward the palace of Aladdin, and all the people, thinking he was the holy woman, gathered round him, kissing his hands and begging his blessing. The Princess, who had long desired to see Fatima, sent for her. She showed Fatima the palace, and asked what she thought of it. “It is truly beautiful,” said the false Fatima. “In my mind it wants but one thing.” “And what is that?” said the Princess. “If only a roc’s egg,” replied he, “were hung up from the middle of this dome, it would be the wonder of the world.”

After this the Princess could think of nothing but the roc’s egg, and when Aladdin returned from hunting he found her in a very ill mood. She told him that all her pleasure in the hall was spoiled for the want of a roc’s egg hanging from the dome. “If that is all,” replied Aladdin, “you shall soon be happy.” He left her and rubbed the lamp, and when the genie appeared commanded him to bring a roc’s egg. The genie gave such a loud and terrible shriek that the hall shook. “Wretch!” he cried, “is it not enough that I have done everything for you, but you must command me to bring my master and hang him up in the midst of this dome? You and your wife and your palace deserve to be burnt to ashes, but that this request does not come from you, but from the brother of the African magician, whom you destroyed. He is now in your palace disguised as the holy woman. He it was who put that wish into your wife’s head. Take care of yourself, for he means to kill you.” So saying, the genie disappeared.

Aladdin went back to the Princess, saying his head ached, and requesting that the holy Fatima should be fetched to lay her hands on it. But when the magician came near, Aladdin, seizing his dagger, pierced him to the heart. “What have you done?” cried the Princess. “You have killed the holy woman!” “Not so,” replied Aladdin, “but a wicked magician,” and told her of how she had been deceived.

After this Aladdin and his wife lived in peace. He succeeded the Sultan when he died, and reigned for many years, leaving behind him a long line of kings.

And that was the story of Aladdin’s Lamp from the 1001 nights. Bertie says that if I keep on telling stories as good as that one, he might forget to cut my head off too. Well thanks Bertie. As you probably know, you can find more of my stories at Storynory.com. I’ll be back soon. Until then, from me, Natasha, Bye Bye!

Download Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves

IN a town in Persia there lived two brothers, one named Cassim, the other Ali Baba. Cassim was married to a rich wife and lived in luxury, while Ali Baba had to maintain his wife and children by cutting wood in a neighboring forest and selling it in the town. One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, he saw a troop of men on horseback, coming toward him in a cloud of dust. He was afraid they were robbers, and climbed into a tree for safety. When they came up to him and dismounted, he counted forty of them.

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This story from the One Thousand and One nights is not without bloodshed, but all the same, children will love its exciting plot. The name of Ali Baba will forever be associated with thieves, perhaps unfairly as Ali only steals from robbers. The true hero turns out to be a woman – Morgiana the slavegirl.

At a shade under half an hour, this is a longer story than we usual publish – and we have an introduction from the pond where Bertie lives.

This Version by Andrew Lang. Read by Natasha Lee Lewis. Duration 29 Minutes.

This text might differ slightly from the one read by Natasha

IN a town in Persia there dwelt two brothers, one named Cassim, the other Ali Baba. Cassim was married to a rich wife and lived in plenty, while Ali Baba had to maintain his wife and children by cutting wood in a neighboring forest and selling it in the town. One day, when Ali Baba was in the forest, he saw a troop of men on horseback, coming toward him in a cloud of dust. He was afraid they were robbers, and climbed into a tree for safety. When they came up to him and dismounted, he counted forty of them. They unbridled their horses and tied them to trees. The finest man among them, whom Ali Baba took to be their captain, went a little way among some bushes, and said: “Open, Sesame!”[1] so plainly that Ali Baba heard him. A door opened in the rocks, and having made the troop go in, he followed them, and the door shut again of itself. They stayed some time inside, and Ali Baba, fearing they might come out and catch him, was forced to sit patiently in the tree. At last the door opened again, and the Forty Thieves came out. As the Captain went in last he came out first, and made them all pass by him; he then closed the door, saying: “Shut, Sesame!” Every man bridled his horse and mounted, the Captain put himself at their head, and they returned as they came.

Then Ali Baba climbed down and went to the door concealed among the bushes, and said: “Open, Sesame!” and it flew open. Ali Baba, who expected a dull, dismal place, was greatly surprised to find it large and well lighted, hollowed by the hand of man in the form of a vault, which received the light from an opening in the ceiling. He saw rich bales of merchandise–silk, stuff-brocades, all piled together, and gold and silver in heaps, and money in leather purses. He went in and the door shut behind him. He did not look at the silver, but brought out as many bags of gold as he thought his asses, which were browsing outside, could carry, loaded them with the bags, and hid it all with fagots. Using the words: “Shut, Sesame!” he closed the door and went home.

Then he drove his asses into the yard, shut the gates, carried the money-bags to his wife, and emptied them out before her. He bade her keep the secret, and he would go and bury the gold. “Let me first measure it,” said his wife. “I will go borrow a measure of someone, while you dig the hole.” So she ran to the wife of Cassim and borrowed a measure. Knowing Ali Baba’s poverty, the sister was curious to find out what sort of grain his wife wished to measure, and artfully put some suet at the bottom of the measure. Ali Baba’s wife went home and set the measure on the heap of gold, and filled it and emptied it often, to her great content. She then carried it back to her sister, without noticing that a piece of gold was sticking to it, which Cassim’s wife perceived directly her back was turned. She grew very curious, and said to Cassim when he came home: “Cassim, your brother is richer than you. He does not count his money, he measures it.” He begged her to explain this riddle, which she did by showing him the piece of money and telling him where she found it. Then Cassim grew so envious that he could not sleep, and went to his brother in the morning before sunrise. “Ali Baba,” he said, showing him the gold piece, “you pretend to be poor and yet you measure gold.” By this Ali Baba perceived that through his wife’s folly Cassim and his wife knew their secret, so he confessed all and offered Cassim a share. “That I expect,” said Cassim; “but I must know where to find the treasure, otherwise I will discover all, and you will lose all.” Ali Baba, more out of kindness than fear, told him of the cave, and the very words to use. Cassim left Ali Baba, meaning to be beforehand with him and get the treasure for himself. He rose early next morning, and set out with ten mules loaded with great chests. He soon found the place, and the door in the rock. He said: “Open, Sesame!” and the door opened and shut behind him. He could have feasted his eyes all day on the treasures, but he now hastened to gather together as much of it as possible; but when he was ready to go he could not remember what to say for thinking of his great riches. Instead of “Sesame,” he said: “Open, Barley!” and the door remained fast. He named several different sorts of grain, all but the right one, and the door still stuck fast. He was so frightened at the danger he was in that he had as much forgotten the word as if he had never heard it.

About noon the robbers returned to their cave, and saw Cassim’s mules roving about with great chests on their backs. This gave them the alarm; they drew their sabres, and went to the door, which opened on their Captain’s saying: “Open, Sesame!” Cassim, who had heard the trampling of their horses’ feet, resolved to sell his life dearly, so when the door opened he leaped out and threw the Captain down. In vain, however, for the robbers with their sabres soon killed him. On entering the cave they saw all the bags laid ready, and could not imagine how anyone had got in without knowing their secret. They cut Cassim’s body into four quarters, and nailed them up inside the cave, in order to frighten anyone who should venture in, and went away in search of more treasure.

As night drew on Cassim’s wife grew very uneasy, and ran to her brother-in-law, and told him where her husband had gone. Ali Baba did his best to comfort her, and set out to the forest in search of Cassim. The first thing he saw on entering the cave was his dead brother. Full of horror, he put the body on one of his asses, and bags of gold on the other two, and, covering all with some fagots, returned home. He drove the two asses laden with gold into his own yard, and led the other to Cassim’s house. The door was opened by the slave Morgiana, whom he knew to be both brave and cunning. Unloading the ass, he said to her: “This is the body of your master, who has been murdered, but whom we must bury as though he had died in his bed. I will speak with you again, but now tell your mistress I am come.” The wife of Cassim, on learning the fate of her husband, broke out into cries and tears, but Ali Baba offered to take her to live with him and his wife if she would promise to keep his counsel and leave everything to Morgiana; whereupon she agreed, and dried her eyes.

Morgiana, meanwhile, sought an apothecary and asked him for some lozenges. “My poor master,” she said, “can neither eat nor speak, and no one knows what his distemper is.” She carried home the lozenges and returned next day weeping, and asked for an essence only given to those just about to die. Thus, in the evening, no one was surprised to hear the wretched shrieks and cries of Cassim’s wife and Morgiana, telling everyone that Cassim was dead. The day after Morgiana went to an old cobbler near the gates of the town who opened his stall early, put a piece of gold in his hand, and bade him follow her with his needle and thread. Having bound his eyes with a handkerchief, she took him to the room where the body lay, pulled off the bandage, and bade him sew the quarters together, after which she covered his eyes again and led him home. Then they buried Cassim, and Morgiana his slave followed him to the grave, weeping and tearing her hair, while Cassim’s wife stayed at home uttering lamentable cries. Next day she went to live with Ali Baba, who gave Cassim’s shop to his eldest son.

The Forty Thieves, on their return to the cave, were much astonished to find Cassim’s body gone and some of their money-bags. “We are certainly discovered,” said the Captain, “and shall be undone if we cannot find out who it is that knows our secret. Two men must have known it; we have killed one, we must now find the other. To this end one of you who is bold and artful must go into the city dressed as a traveler, and discover whom we have killed, and whether men talk of the strange manner of his death. If the messenger fails he must lose his life, lest we be betrayed.” One of the thieves started up and offered to do this, and after the rest had highly commended him for his bravery he disguised himself, and happened to enter the town at daybreak, just by Baba Mustapha’s stall. The thief bade him good-day, saying: “Honest man, how can you possibly see to stitch at your age?” “Old as I am,” replied the cobbler, “I have very good eyes, and will you believe me when I tell you that I sewed a dead body together in a place where I had less light than I have now.” The robber was overjoyed at his good fortune, and, giving him a piece of gold, desired to be shown the house where he stitched up the dead body. At first Mustapha refused, saying that he had been blindfolded; but when the robber gave him another piece of gold he began to think he might remember the turnings if blindfolded as before. This means succeeded; the robber partly led him, and was partly guided by him, right in front of Cassim’s house, the door of which the robber marked with a piece of chalk. Then, well pleased, he bade farewell to Baba Mustapha and returned to the forest. By and by Morgiana, going out, saw the mark the robber had made, quickly guessed that some mischief was brewing, and fetching a piece of chalk marked two or three doors on each side, without saying anything to her master or mistress.

The thief, meantime, told his comrades of his discovery. The Captain thanked him, and bade him show him the house he had marked. But when they came to it they saw that five or six of the houses were chalked in the same manner. The guide was so confounded that he knew not what answer to make, and when they returned he was at once beheaded for having failed. Another robber was dispatched, and, having won over Baba Mustapha, marked the house in red chalk; but Morgiana being again too clever for them, the second messenger was put to death also. The Captain now resolved to go himself, but, wiser than the others, he did not mark the house, but looked at it so closely that he could not fail to remember it. He returned, and ordered his men to go into the neighboring villages and buy nineteen mules, and thirty-eight leather jars, all empty except one, which was full of oil. The Captain put one of his men, fully armed, into each, rubbing the outside of the jars with oil from the full vessel. Then the nineteen mules were loaded with thirty-seven robbers in jars, and the jar of oil, and reached the town by dusk. The Captain stopped his mules in front of Ali Baba’s house, and said to Ali Baba, who was sitting outside for coolness: “I have brought some oil from a distance to sell at to-morrow’s market, but it is now so late that I know not where to pass the night, unless you will do me the favor to take me in.” Though Ali Baba had seen the Captain of the robbers in the forest, he did not recognize him in the disguise of an oil merchant. He bade him welcome, opened his gates for the mules to enter, and went to Morgiana to bid her prepare a bed and supper for his guest. He brought the stranger into his hall, and after they had supped went again to speak to Morgiana in the kitchen, while the Captain went into the yard under pretense of seeing after his mules, but really to tell his men what to do. Beginning at the first jar and ending at the last, he said to each man: “As soon as I throw some stones from the window of the chamber where I lie, cut the jars open with your knives and come out, and I will be with you in a trice.” He returned to the house, and Morgiana led him to his chamber. She then told Abdallah, her fellow-slave, to set on the pot to make some broth for her master, who had gone to bed. Meanwhile her lamp went out, and she had no more oil in the house. “Do not be uneasy,” said Abdallah; “go into the yard and take some out of one of those jars.” Morgiana thanked him for his advice, took the oil pot, and went into the yard. When she came to the first jar the robber inside said softly: “Is it time?”

Any other slave but Morgiana, on finding a man in the jar instead of the oil she wanted, would have screamed and made a noise; but she, knowing the danger her master was in, bethought herself of a plan, and answered quietly: “Not yet, but presently.” She went to all the jars, giving the same answer, till she came to the jar of oil. She now saw that her master, thinking to entertain an oil merchant, had let thirty-eight robbers into his house. She filled her oil pot, went back to the kitchen, and, having lit her lamp, went again to the oil jar and filled a large kettle full of oil. When it boiled she went and poured enough oil into every jar to stifle and kill the robber inside. When this brave deed was done she went back to the kitchen, put out the fire and the lamp, and waited to see what would happen.

In a quarter of an hour the Captain of the robbers awoke, got up, and opened the window. As all seemed quiet, he threw down some little pebbles which hit the jars. He listened, and as none of his men seemed to stir he grew uneasy, and went down into the yard. On going to the first jar and saying, “Are you asleep?” he smelt the hot boiled oil, and knew at once that his plot to murder Ali Baba and his household had been discovered. He found all the gang was dead, and, missing the oil out of the last jar, became aware of the manner of their death. He then forced the lock of a door leading into a garden, and climbing over several walls made his escape. Morgiana heard and saw all this, and, rejoicing at her success, went to bed and fell asleep.

At daybreak Ali Baba arose, and, seeing the oil jars still there, asked why the merchant had not gone with his mules. Morgiana bade him look in the first jar and see if there was any oil. Seeing a man, he started back in terror. “Have no fear,” said Morgiana; “the man cannot harm you: he is dead.” Ali Baba, when he had recovered somewhat from his astonishment, asked what had become of the merchant. “Merchant!” said she, “he is no more a merchant than I am!” and she told him the whole story, assuring him that it was a plot of the robbers of the forest, of whom only three were left, and that the white and red chalk marks had something to do with it. Ali Baba at once gave Morgiana her freedom, saying that he owed her his life. They then buried the bodies in Ali Baba’s garden, while the mules were sold in the market by his slaves.

The Captain returned to his lonely cave, which seemed frightful to him without his lost companions, and firmly resolved to avenge them by killing Ali Baba. He dressed himself carefully, and went into the town, where he took lodgings in an inn. In the course of a great many journeys to the forest he carried away many rich stuffs and much fine linen, and set up a shop opposite that of Ali Baba’s son. He called himself Cogia Hassan, and as he was both civil and well dressed he soon made friends with Ali Baba’s son, and through him with Ali Baba, whom he was continually asking to sup with him. Ali Baba, wishing to return his kindness, invited him into his house and received him smiling, thanking him for his kindness to his son. When the merchant was about to take his leave Ali Baba stopped him, saying: “Where are you going, sir, in such haste? Will you not stay and sup with me?” The merchant refused, saying that he had a reason; and, on Ali Baba’s asking him what that was, he replied: “It is, sir, that I can eat no victuals that have any salt in them.” “If that is all,” said Ali Baba, “let me tell you that there shall be no salt in either the meat or the bread that we eat to-night.” He went to give this order to Morgiana, who was much surprised. “Who is this man,” she said, “who eats no salt with his meat?” “He is an honest man, Morgiana,” returned her master; “therefore do as I bid you.” But she could not withstand a desire to see this strange man, so she helped Abdallah to carry up the dishes, and saw in a moment that Cogia Hassan was the robber Captain, and carried a dagger under his garment. “I am not surprised,” she said to herself, “that this wicked man, who intends to kill my master, will eat no salt with him; but I will hinder his plans.”

She sent up the supper by Abdallah, while she made ready for one of the boldest acts that could be thought on. When the dessert had been served, Cogia Hassan was left alone with Ali Baba and his son, whom he thought to make drunk and then to murder them. Morgiana, meanwhile, put on a head-dress like a dancing-girl’s, and clasped a girdle round her waist, from which hung a dagger with a silver hilt, and said to Abdallah: “Take your tabor, and let us go and divert our master and his guest.” Abdallah took his tabor and played before Morgiana until they came to the door, where Abdallah stopped playing and Morgiana made a low courtesy. “Come in, Morgiana,” said Ali Baba, “and let Cogia Hassan see what you can do”; and, turning to Cogia Hassan, he said: “She’s my slave and my housekeeper.” Cogia Hassan was by no means pleased, for he feared that his chance of killing Ali Baba was gone for the present; but he pretended great eagerness to see Morgiana, and Abdallah began to play and Morgiana to dance. After she had performed several dances she drew her dagger and made passes with it, sometimes pointing it at her own breast, sometimes at her master’s, as if it were part of the dance. Suddenly, out of breath, she snatched the tabor from Abdallah with her left hand, and, holding the dagger in her right hand, held out the tabor to her master. Ali Baba and his son put a piece of gold into it, and Cogia Hassan, seeing that she was coming to him, pulled out his purse to make her a present, but while he was putting his hand into it Morgiana plunged the dagger into his heart.

“Unhappy girl!” cried Ali Baba and his son, “what have you done to ruin us?”

“It was to preserve you, master, not to ruin you,” answered Morgiana. “See here,” opening the false merchant’s garment and showing the dagger; “see what an enemy you have entertained! Remember, he would eat no salt with you, and what more would you have? Look at him! he is both the false oil merchant and the Captain of the Forty Thieves.”

Ali Baba was so grateful to Morgiana for thus saving his life that he offered her to his son in marriage, who readily consented, and a few days after the wedding was celebrated with greatest splendor.

At the end of a year Ali Baba, hearing nothing of the two remaining robbers, judged they were dead, and set out to the cave. The door opened on his saying: “Open Sesame!” He went in, and saw that nobody had been there since the Captain left it. He brought away as much gold as he could carry, and returned to town. He told his son the secret of the cave, which his son handed down in his turn, so the children and grandchildren of Ali Baba were rich to the end of their lives.