Sir, then, says Scheherazade, the first old man, who led the
bitch, continuing his story to the genie, the two other old men,
and the merchant, proceeded thus: I took the knife, says he, and
was going to strike it into my son's throat, when, turning his
eyes, bathed with tears, in a languishing manner towards me, he
affected me so, that I had not strength to sacrifice him, but,
let the knife fall, and told my wife positively that I would have
another calf to sacrifice, and not that. She used all endeavours
to make me change my resolution; but I continued firm, and
pacified her a little, by promising that I would sacrifice him
against the Bairam next year.
Next morning, my farmer desired to speak with me alone; and told
me, I come, says he, to tell you a piece of news, for which, I
hope, you will return me thanks. I have a daughter that has some
skill in magic: Yesterday, as I carried back the calf which you
would not sacrifice, I perceived she laughed when she saw him,
and in a moment after fell a-weeping. I asked her why she acted
two such contrary parts at one and the same time. Father, replies
she, the calf you bring back is our landlord's son: I laughed for
joy to see him still alive, and I wept at the remembrance of the
former sacrifice that was made the other day of his mother, who
was changed into a cow.
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