He approached the table with much resolution, and his hand advanced half the distance without impediment.  Then, turning to the holder of the second quill; the man with the sister, he said abruptly: 

“The relation between mother and son is notoriously more sacred and intimate than that which obtains between brethren.  Were it not therefore fitting that thou shouldst encounter the first risk in my stead?”

“The relationship between an aged mother and an adult son,” responded the youth addressed, in a sententious tone, “albeit most holy, cannot in the nature of things be durable, seeing that it must shortly be dissolved by death.  Whereas the relationship between brother and sister may endure for many years, if such be the will of Allah.  It is therefore proper that thou shouldst first venture the experiment.”

“Have I lived to hear such sophistry from a pupil of the wise Aboniel!” exclaimed the first speaker, in generous indignation.  “The maternal relationship—­”

“A truce to this trifling,” cried the other six; “fulfil the conditions, or abandon the task.”

Thus urged, the scholar approached his hand to the table, and seized one of the phials.  Scarcely, however, had he done so, when he fancied that he detected something of a sinister colour in the liquid, which distinguished it, in his imagination, from the innocent transparency of the rest.  He hastily replaced it, and laid hold of the next.  At that moment a blaze of light burst forth upon them, and, thunderstruck, the seven scholars were stretched senseless on the ground.

On regaining their faculties they found themselves at the outside of Aboniel’s dwelling, stunned by the shock, and humiliated by the part they had played.  They jointly pledged inviolable secrecy, and returned to their homes.

The secret of the seven was kept as well as the secret of seven can be expected to be; that is to say, it was not, ere the expiration of seven days, known to more than six-sevenths of the inhabitants of Balkh.  The last of these to become acquainted with it was the Sultan, who immediately despatched his guards to apprehend the sage, and confiscate the Elixir.  Failing to obtain admission at Aboniel’s portal, they broke it open, and, on entering his chamber, found him in a condition which more eloquently than any profession bespoke his disdain for the life-bestowing draught.  He was dead in his chair.  Before him, on the table, stood the seven phials, six full as previously, the seventh empty.  In his hand was a scroll inscribed as follows: 

“Six times twice six years have I striven after knowledge, and I now bequeath to the world the fruit of my toil, being six poisons.  One more deadly I might have added, but I have refrained, “Write upon my tomb, that here he lies who forbore to perpetuate human affliction, and bestowed a fatal boon where alone it could be innoxious.”

The intruders looked at each other, striving to penetrate the sense of Aboniel’s last words.  While yet they gazed, they were startled by a loud crash from an adjacent closet, and were even more discomposed as a large monkey bounded forth, whose sleek coat, exuberant playfulness, and preternatural agility convinced all that the deceased philosopher, under an inspiration of supreme irony, had administered to the creature every drop of the Elixir of Life.