He looked over the book from beginning to end.  In it he found the date of his brother’s arrival at Bussorah, of his marriage, and of the birth of his son; and when he compared them with the day of his own marriage, and the birth of his daughter at Cairo, he wondered at the exact coincidence which appeared in every circumstance.

The happy discovery put him into such a transport of joy, that he took the book, with the ticket of the bag, and shewed them to the sultan, who pardoned what was past, and was so much pleased with the relation of this adventure, that he caused it with all its circumstances to be put in writing for the information of posterity.

Meanwhile, the vizier.  Shumse ad Deen could not comprehend the reason why his nephew did not appear; he expected him every moment, and was impatient to receive him to his arms.  After he had waited seven days in vain, he searched through all Cairo, but could procure no intelligence of him, which threw him into great perplexity.  “This is the strangest occurrence,” said he, “that ever happened.”  In order to certify it, he thought fit to draw up in writing with his own hand an account of the manner in which the wedding had been solemnized; how the hall and his daughter’s bed-chamber were furnished, with the other circumstances.  He likewise made the turban, the bag, and the rest of Buddir ad Deen’s raiment into a bundle, and locked them up.

After some days were past, the vizier’s daughter perceived herself pregnant, and after nine months was brought to bed of a son.  A nurse was provided for the child, besides other women and slaves to wait upon him; and his grandfather called him Agib.

When young Agib had attained the age of seven, the vizier, instead of teaching him to read at home, put him to school with a master who was in great esteem; and two slaves were ordered to wait upon him.  Agib used to play with his schoolfellows, and as they were all inferior to him in rank, they shewed him great respect, according to the example of their master, who many times would pass by faults in him that he would correct in his other pupils.  This indulgence spoiled Agib; he became proud and insolent, would have his play-fellows bear all from him, and would submit to nothing from them, but be master every where; and if any took the liberty to thwart him, he would call them a thousand names, and many times beat them.

In short, all the scholars grew weary of his insolence, and complained of him to their master.  He answered, “That they must have patience.”  But when he saw that Agib grew still more and more overbearing, and occasioned him much trouble, “Children,” said he to his scholars, “I find Agib is a little insolent gentleman; I will shew you how to mortify him, so that he shall never torment you any more.  Nay, I believe it will make him leave the school.  When he comes again to-morrow, place yourselves round him, and let one of you call out, “Come, let us play, but upon condition, that every one who desires to play shall tell his own name, and the names of his father and mother; they who refuse shall be esteemed bastards, and not be suffered to play in our company.”