" She asked: "O my darling! O my Negroling! What is the root?"
And he answered: "Fie on thee, O my cuss! The people of this city
and of the four islands every night when it's half-passed lift their
heads from the tank in which thou hast turned them to fishes and cry
to Heaven and call down its anger on me and thee, and this is the
reason why my body's balked from health. Go at once and set them free,
then come to me and take my hand, and raise me up, for a little
strength is already back in me."
When she heard the King's words (and she still supposed him to be
the slave) she cried joyously: "O my master, on my head and on my eyes
be thy command. Bismillah!" So she sprang to her feet and, full of joy
and gladness, ran down to the tarn and took a little of its water in
the palm of her hand and spake over it words not to be understood, and
the fishes lifted their heads and stood up on the instant like men,
the spell on the people of the city having been removed. What was
the lake again became a crowded capital. The bazaars were thronged
with folk who bought and sold, each citizen was occupied with his
own calling, and the four hills became islands as they were whilom.
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