Then said he, ’This is so:  thou art not my child; but I love thee as mine, O my little Desert-flower; and why the Princess should fancy fear of thee I like not to think; but fear thou her, for she is a mask of wiles and a vine trailing over pitfalls; such a sorceress the world knoweth not as Goorelka of Oolb.’

Now, I was penetrated by what he said, and ceased to be a companion to them that loved childish games and romps, and meditated by myself in gardens and closets, feigning sleep when the elder ones discoursed, that I might learn something of this mystery, and all that was spoken perplexed me more, as the sage declareth: 

          Who in a labyrinth wandereth without clue,
          More that he wandereth doth himself undo.

Though I was quick as the quick-eyed falcon, I discovered nought, flying ever at false game,—­

          A follower of misleading beams,
          A cheated soul, the mock of dreams.

At times I thought that it was the King of Oolb was my father, and plotted to come in his path; and there were kings and princes of far countries whom I sought to encounter, that they might claim me; but none claimed me.  O my betrothed, few gave me love beside Ravaloke, and when the wife that he cherished died, he solely, for I was lost in waywardness and the slave of moody imaginings.  ’Tis said: 

If thou the love of the world for thyself wouldst gain,
mould thy breast
Liker the world to become, for its like the world loveth best;

and this was not I then.

Now, the sons and daughters of men are used to celebrate the days of their birth with gifts and rejoicings, but I could only celebrate that day which delivered me from death into the hands of Ravaloke, as none knew my birth-hour.  When it was the twelfth return of this event, Ravaloke, my heart’s father, called me to him and pressed in my hand a glittering coin, telling me to buy with it in the bazaars what I would.  So I went forth, attended by a black slave, after the mid-noon, for I was eager to expend my store, and cared not for the great heat.  Scarcely had we passed the cheese-market and were hurrying on to shops of the goldsmiths and jewellers, when I saw an old man, a beggar, in a dirty yellow turban and pieced particoloured cloth-stuff, and linen in rags his other gear.  So lean was he, and looked so weak that I wondered he did other than lay his length on the ground; and as he asked me for alms his voice had a piteousness that made me to weep, and I punished my slave for seeking to drive him away, and gave my one piece of gold into his hand.  Then he asked me what I required of him in exchange, and I said, ’What can a poor old man that is a beggar give?’ He laughed, and asked me then what I had intended to buy with that piece of money.  So, beginning to regret the power that was gone from me of commanding with my gold piece this and that fine thing, I mused, and said, ’Truly, a blue dress embroidered with gold, and a gold crown, and gold bracelets set with turquoise stones,—­these, and toys; but could I buy in this city a book of magic, that were my purchase.’