to think that I, who never in my born days had sighted
a golden coin, should tell how I had gotten so many
Ashrafis, and how a kite had flown away with them.
My wife, however, gave full credence to my tale and
wept and beat her breast for sorrow. Thus six
months passed over us, when it chanced one day that
the two friends, to wit, Sa’di and Sa’d,
came to my quarter of the town, when quoth Sa’d
to Sa’di, “Lo, yonder is the street where
dwelleth Hasan al-Habbal. Come let us go and
see how he hath added to his stock and how far he
hath prospered by means of the two hundred Ashrafis
thou gavest him.” Sa’di rejoined,
’Tis well said; indeed, we have not seen him
for many days: I would fain visit him and I should
rejoice to hear that he hath prospered.”
So the twain walked along towards my house, Sa’d
saying to Sa’di, “Forsooth I perceive
that he appeareth the same in semblance, poor and
ill-conditioned as before; he weareth old and tattered
garments, save that his turband seemeth somewhat newer
and cleaner. Look well and judge thyself and
’tis even as I said.” Thereupon Sa’di
came up closer to me and he also understood that my
condition was unaltered; and presently the two friends
addressed me. After the usual salutetion Sa’d
asked, O Hasan, how fareth it with thee, and how goeth
it with thy business and have the two hundred Ashrafis
stood thee in good stead and amended thy trade?”
To this answered I, “O my lords, how can I tell
you of the sad mishap that hath befallen me?
I dare not speak for very shame, yet cannot I keep
the adventure concealed. Verily a marvellous
matter and a wondrous hath happened to me, the tale
whereof will fill you with wonderment and suspicion,
for I wot full well that ye will not believe it, and
that I shall be to you as one that dealeth in lies;
withal needs must I tell you the whole however unwillingly.”
Hereat I recounted to them every whit that had betided
me first and last, especially that which had befallen
me from the kite; but Sa’di misdoubted me and
mistrusted me and cried, “O Hasan, thou speakest
but in jest and dost dissemble with us. ’Tis
hard to believe the tale thou tellest. Kites
are not wont to fly off with turbands, but only with
such things as they can eat. Thou wouldst but
outwit us and thou art of those who, when some good
fortune cometh to them unforeseen, do straightways
abandon their work or their business and, wasting
all in pleasuring, become once more poor and thereafter
must nilly-willy eke out a living as best they may.
This methinks be especially the case with thee; thou
hast squandered our gift with all speed and now art
needy as before.” “O good my lord,
not so,” cried I; “this blame and these
hard words ill befit my deserts, for I am wholly innocent
of all thou imputest to me. The strange mishap
whereof I told thee is the truest of truths; and to
prove that it is no lie all the town-folk have knowledge
thereof and in good sooth I do not play thee false.
’Tis certain that kites do not fly away with