The African magician regarded not their scoffs, hootings, or all they could say to him, but still continued crying, “Who will change old lamps for new ones?” He repeated this so often, walking backward and forward in front of the palace, that the princess, who was then in the hall with the four-and-twenty windows, hearing a man cry something, and seeing a great mob crowding about him, sent one of her women slaves to know what he cried.

The slave returned, laughing so heartily that the princess rebuked her.  “Madam,” answered the slave, laughing still, “who can forbear laughing, to see an old man with a basket on his arm, full of fine new lamps, asking to change them for old ones? the children and mob crowding about him, so that he can hardly stir, make all the noise they can in derision of him.”

Another female slave hearing this, said, “Now you speak of lamps, I know not whether the princess may have observed it, but there is an old one upon a shelf of the Prince Aladdin’s robing room, and whoever owns it will not be sorry to find a new one in its stead.  If the princess chooses, she may have the pleasure of trying if this old man is so silly as to give a new lamp for an old one, without taking anything for the exchange.”

The princess, who knew not the value of this lamp, and the interest that Aladdin had to keep it safe, entered into the pleasantry, and commanded a slave to take it and make the exchange.  The slave obeyed, went out of the hall, and no sooner got to the palace gates than he saw the African magician, called to him, and showing him the old lamp, said, “Give me a new lamp for this.”

The magician never doubted but this was the lamp he wanted.  There could be no other such in this palace, where every utensil was gold or silver.  He snatched it eagerly out of the slave’s hand, and thrusting it as far as he could into his breast, offered him his basket, and bade him choose which he liked best.  The slave picked out one and carried it to the princess; but the change was no sooner made than the place rung with the shouts of the children, deriding the magician’s folly.

The African magician stayed no longer near the palace, nor cried any more, “New lamps for old ones,” but made the best of his way to his khan.  His end was answered, and by his silence he got rid of the children and the mob.

As soon as he was out of sight of the two palaces, he hastened down the least-frequented streets; and having no more occasion for his lamps or basket, set all down in a spot where nobody saw him; then going down another street or two, he walked till he came to one of the city gates, and pursuing his way through the suburbs, which were very extensive, at length reached a lonely spot, where he stopped till the darkness of the night, as the most suitable time for the design he had in contemplation.  When it became quite dark, he pulled the lamp out of his breast and rubbed it.  At that summons the genie appeared, and said,