" 'So
I ate and drank with her and took this one from her.' When I heard
such words from the slave, O Commander of the Faithful, the world grew
black before my face, and I arose and locked up my shop and went
home beside myself for excess of rage. I looked for the apples and
finding, only two of the three, asked my wife, `O my cousin, where
is the third apple?' And raising her head languidly, she answered,
`I wot not, O son of my uncle, where 'tis gone!' This convinced me
that the slave had spoken the truth, so I took a knife and coming
behind her, got upon her breast without a word said and cut her
throat. Then I hewed off her head and her limbs in pieces and,
wrapping her in her mantilla and a rag of carpet, hurriedly sewed up
the whole, which I set in a chest and, locking it tight, loaded it
on my he-mule and threw it into the Tigris with my own hands.
"So Allah upon thee, O Commander of the Faithful, make haste to hang
me, as I fear lest she appeal for vengeance on Resurrection Day. For
when I had thrown her into the river and one knew aught of it, as I
went back home I found my eldest son crying, and yet he knew naught of
what I had done with his mother.
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