The story of the False Prince

it became larger and larger, until it reached the size of a real crown. Placing it on his son Omar, who kneeled before him, he kissed his forehead, and bade him sit upon his right hand. To Labakan, however, he turned and said:—

“There is an old proverb, ‘Shoemaker, stick to thy last;’ it seems that thou shouldst stick to thy needle. Thou hast not, indeed, merited much mercy at my hands, but one has supplicated for thee, whom this day I can refuse nothing; therefore give I thee thy paltry life; but, if I may advise, haste thee to leave my land.”

Ashamed, ruined as he was, the poor tailor could answer nothing: he threw himself before the prince, and tears came into his eyes.

“Can you forgive me, prince?” he said.

“To be true to a friend, magnanimous to a foe, is the pride of the Abassidæ!” answered the prince, raising him. “Go in peace!”

“My true son!” cried the old sultan, deeply affected, and sinking upon Omar’s breast. The emirs and bashaws, and all the nobles of the realm, arose from their seats, to welcome the new prince, and amid this universal jubilee, Labakan, his chest under his arm, crept out of the saloon.

He went down into the sultan’s stable, bridled his horse Murva, and rode forth from the gate towards Alexandria. His whole career as prince recurred to him as a dream, and the splendid chest, richly adorned with pearls and diamonds, alone convinced him that it was not all an idle vision. Having at last reached Alexandria, he rode to the house of his old master, dismounted, and fastening his horse to the door, walked into the workshop. The master, who did not even know him, made a low bow and asked what was his pleasure: when, however, he had a nearer view of his guest, and recognised his old Labakan, he called to his journeymen and apprentices, and all precipitated themselves, like mad, upon poor Labakan, who expected no such reception; they bruised and beat him with smoothing-irons and yard-sticks, pricked him with needles, and pinched him with sharp shears, until he sank down, exhausted, on a heap of old clothes.