Madam, I beg
you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and consider
that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I, who have
no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your resentment.
Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within
herself at the porters lamentation; but, without answering him,
she spoke a second time to the rest: Answer me, says she, and
tell me who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment
longer. I cannot believe you to be honest men, nor persons of
authority or distinction in your own countries; for, if you were,
you would have been more modest and more respectful to us.
The caliph, who was naturally impatient, was infinitely more so
than the rest, to find his life depend upon the command of a lady
justly incensed; but he began to conceive some hopes when he saw
she would know who they all were; for he imagined she would not
take away his life when once she came to be informed who he was;
therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near
him, to declare speedily who he was; but the vizier, being more
prudent, resolved to save his master's honour, and not to let the
world know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own
weakness; and therefore answered, We have what we deserve. But,
if he would have spoken in obedience to the caliph, Zobeide did
not give him time; for having turned to the calenders, and seeing
them all three blind of one eye, she asked if they were brothers.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169