To make an end of the Bagdad merchant’s story, the ladies, said he, applied to my wounds, not only the root I mentioned to you but likewise some balsam of Mecca, which they were morally assured was not adulterated, because they had it from the caliph’s own dispensatory; by virtue of that admirable balsam I was perfectly cured in a few days, and my wife and I lived together as agreeably as if I had never eaten of the garlic ragoo.  But having been all my lifetime used to the liberty of ranging abroad, I was very uneasy at being confined to the caliph’s palace, and yet said nothing of it to my wife, from a fear of displeasing her.  She smelt it, however; and wanted nothing more herself than to get out, for it was gratitude alone that made her continue with Zobeide.  In fine, being a very witty woman, she represented, in lively terms, to her mistress, the constraint I was under in not living in the city with my fellow-companions, as I had always done:  this she did so effectually, that the good princess chose rather to deprive herself of the pleasure of having her favourite about her, than not to grant what she desired.  Accordingly, about a month after our marriage, my wife came into my room with several eunuchs, each carrying a bag of silver.  When the eunuchs were gone, You never told me, said she, that you were uneasy in being confined to court, but I perceived it very well, and have happily found means to make you contented.  My mistress Zobeide gives us leave to go out of the palace, and here are fifty thousand sequins, of which she has made us a present, in order to enable us to live comfortable in the city.  Take ten thousand of them, and go and buy us a house, I soon purchased a house; and, after furnishing it richly, we went and lived in it, and kept a great many slaves of both sexes, with a very pretty equipage.  In short, we began to live in a very agreeable manner, which did not last long, for at a year’s end my wife fell sick and died.  I might have married again, and lived honourably at Bagdad; but ambition to see the world put me upon other thoughts.  I sold my house, and, after buying up several sorts of goods, went with a caravan to Persia; from Persia I travelled to Samarcande, and from thence hither.

This, said the purveyor to the sultan of Casgar, is the story that the Bagdad merchant told in a company where I was yesterday.  This story, said the sultan, has something extraordinary in it, but it does not come near that of my little Hunchback.  Then the jewish physician prostrated himself before the sultan’s throne, and rising again, addressed himself to that prince in the following manner:  Sir, if you will be so good as to hear me, I flatter myself you will be pleased with a story I have to tell you.  Well spoken, said the sultan; but if it is not more surprising than that of little Hunch-back, do not you expect to live.  The physician, finding the sultan of Casgar disposed to hear him, gave the following relation: