The fair Persian began in such a style, that, from the first moment of her touching the lute, the caliph perceived she did it with a masterly hand.  Afterwards accompanying the lute with her voice, which was admirably fine, she sung and played with so much skill and sweetness, that the caliph was quite ravished to hear her.

As soon as the fair Persian had finished her song, the caliph went down the steps, and the vizier followed him.  When he came to the bottom, “I never,” said he to the vizier, “heard a more charming voice, or a lute better touched.  Isaac, whom I thought the most skilful player in the world, does not come up to her.  I am so charmed with her music, that I will go in, and hear her play before me.  We must, therefore, consider how I can do it.”

“Commander of the true believers,” said the grand vizier, “if you should go in, and Scheich Ibrahim chance to know you, he would infallibly die with the fright.”  “It is that which hurts me,” replied the caliph, “and I should be loth to be the occasion of his death, after so many years service.  A thought is just come into my head, that may succeed; stay here with Mesrour, and wait for me in the next walk.”

The neighbourhood of the Tigris had given the caliph an opportunity of turning the stream under a stately bridge into his garden, through a piece of water, whither the choicest fish of the river used to retire.  The fishermen knew it well; but the caliph had expressly charged Scheich Ibrahim not to suffer any of them to come near it.  However, that night, a fisherman passing by the garden-door, which the caliph had left open as he found it, made use of the opportunity, and going in, went directly to the canal.

The fisherman immediately fell to work with his nets, and was just ready to draw them, when the caliph, fearing what would be the effect of Scheich Ibrahim’s negligence, but willing to make use of it to bring his design about, came to the same place.  The fisherman, in spite of his disguise, knew him, and throwing himself at his feet, humbly implored his pardon, and excused himself on account of his poverty.  “Rise,” said the caliph, “and be not afraid; only draw your nets, that I may see what fish you have got.”

The fisherman, recovered of his fright, quickly obeyed the caliph’s orders.  He drew out five or six very large fishes; and the caliph choosing the two biggest, tied them together by the head, with the twig of a tree.  “After this,” said he to the fisherman, “give me thy clothes, and take mine.”  The exchange was soon made; and the caliph being dressed like a fisherman, even to his boots and turban, “Take thy nets,” said he to the fisherman, “and get thee about thy business.”