Scheherazade stopped here, because she saw it
was day.
Sister, says Dinarzade, I must confess that the beginning of this
story charms me, and I foresee that the result of it will be very
agreeable. There is nothing more surprising than the story of
this fisherman, replied the sultaness, and you will be convinced
of it next night, if the sultan will be so gracious as to let me
live. Schahriar, being curious to hear the success of such an
extraordinary fishing, would not order Scheherazade to be put to
death that day.
The Ninth Night.
My dear sister, cries Dinarzade, next morning at the usual hour,
if you be not asleep, I pray you to go on with the story of the
fisherman; I am ready to die till I hear it. I am willing to give
you that satisfaction, says the sultaness; but at the same time
she demanded leave of the sultan, and, having obtained it, began
again as follows:
Sir, when the fisherman, vexed to have made such a sorry draught,
had mended his nets, which the carcase of the ass had broken in
several places, he threw them in a second time; and when he drew
them, found a great deal of resistance, which made him think he
had taken abundance of fish; but he found nothing except a
pannier full of gravel and slime, which grieved him extremely. O
Fortune! cries he, with a lamentable tone, do not be angry with
me, nor persecute a wretch who prays thee to spare him.
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