Next day when they were gathered together, they failed not to follow their master’s instructions.  They placed themselves round Agib, and one of them called out, “Let us begin a play, but on condition that he who cannot tell his own name, and that of his father and mother, shall not play at all.”  They all cried out, and so did Agib, “We consent.”  Then he that spoke first asked every one the question, and all fulfilled the condition except Agib, who answered, “My name is Agib, my mother is called the lady of beauty, and my father Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, vizier to the sultan.”

At these words all the children cried out, “Agib, what do you say?  That is not the name of your father, but your grandfather.”  “A curse on you,” said he in a passion.  “What! dare you say that the vizier is not my father?” “No, no,” cried they with great laughter, “he is your grandfather, and you shall not play with us.  Nay we will take care how we come into your company.”  Having spoken thus, they all left him, scoffing him, and laughing among themselves, which mortified Agib so much that he wept.

The schoolmaster who was near, and heard all that passed, came up, and speaking to Agib, said, “Agib, do not you know that the vizier is not your father, but your grandfather, and the father of your mother the lady of beauty?  We know not the name of your father any more than you do.  We only know that the sultan was going to marry your mother to one of his grooms, a humpback fellow; but a genie lay with her.  This is hard upon you, but ought to teach you to treat your schoolfellows with less haughtiness.”

Agib being nettled at this, ran hastily out of the school.  He went directly sobbing to his mother’s chamber, who being alarmed to see him thus grieved, asked the reason.  He could not answer for tears, so great was his mortification, and it was long ere he could speak plain enough to repeat what had been said to him, and had occasioned his sorrow.

When he came to himself.  “Mother,” said he “for the love of God be pleased to tell me who is my father?” “My son,” she replied, “Shumse ad Deen Mahummud, who every day caresses you so kindly, is your father.”  “You do not tell me truth,” returned Agib; “he is your father, and none of mine.  But whose son am I?” At this question, the lady of beauty calling to mind her wedding night, which had been succeeded by a long widowhood, began to shed tears, repining bitterly at the loss of so handsome a husband as Buddir ad Deen.

Whilst the lady of beauty and Agib were both weeping, the vizier entered, who demanded the reason of their sorrow.  The lady told him the shame Agib had undergone at school, which so much affected the vizier that he joined his tears with theirs, and judging from this that the misfortune which had happened to his daughter was the common discourse of the town, he was mortified to the quick.

Being thus afflicted, he went to the sultan’s palace, and falling prostrate at his feet, most humbly intreated permission to make a journey in search of his nephew Buddir ad Deen Houssun.  For he could not bear any longer that the people of the city should believe a genie had disgraced his daughter.