and seeing her going about as usual, he asked her why she had summoned him before her time.  Without saying anything about the six other wives, she replied that she had rung the bell merely out of curiosity to know if what he had said was true.  The King was angry, and, telling her distinctly she was not to ring the bell until the labour pains came upon her, went away again.  Some weeks after the six wives once more induced her to ring the bell, and when the King appeared and found she was not about to be confined and that she had been merely making another trial of the bell (for, as on the former occasion, she did not say that her co-wives had instigated her), he was greatly enraged, and told her that even should she ring when in the throes of childbirth he should not come to her, and then went away.  At last the day of her confinement arrived, and when she rang the bell the King did not come.[FN#435] The six jealous wives seeing this went to her and said that it was not customary for the ladies of the palace to be confined in the royal apartments, and that she must go to a hut near the stables.  They then sent for the midwife of the palace, and heavily bribed her to make away with the infant the moment it was born.  The seventh wife gave birth, as she had promised, to a son who had a moon on his forehead and stars on the palms of his hands, and also to an uncommonly beautiful girl.  The midwife had come provided with a couple of newly-littered pups, which she set before the mother, saying, “You have given birth to these,” and took away the twin-children in an earthen vessel, while the mother was insensible.  The King, though he was angry with his seventh wife, yet recollecting that she was to give birth to an heir to his throne, changed his mind, and came to see her the next morning.  The pups were produced before the King as the offspring of his new wife, and great was his anger and vexation.  He gave orders that she should be expelled from the palace, clothed in leather, and employed in the market-place to drive away crows and keep off dogs, all of which was done accordingly.

The midwife placed the vessel containing the twins along with the unburnt clay vessels which a potter had set in order and then gone to sleep, intending to get up during the night and light his furnace; in this way she thought the little innocents would be reduced to ashes.  It happened, however, that the potter and his wife overslept themselves that night, and it was near daybreak when the woman awoke and roused her husband.  She then hastened to the furnace, and to her surprise found all the pots thoroughly baked, although no fire had been applied to them.  Wondering at such good luck, she summoned her husband, who was equally astonished and pleased, and attributed it all to some benevolent deity.  In turning over the pots he came upon the one in which the twins were placed, and the wife looking on them as a gift from heaven (for she had no children) carried them into