the name of heaven, do not put me to death for another man’s crime.  I am innocent; they are to blame.”  “Alas!” said he, weeping, “how pleasantly did we pass our time! those blind calenders are the cause of this misfortune; there is no town in the world but suffers wherever these inauspicious fellows come.  Madam, I beg you not to destroy the innocent with the guilty, and consider, that it is more glorious to pardon such a wretch as I am, who have no way to help myself, than to sacrifice me to your resentment.”

Zobeide, notwithstanding her anger, could not but laugh within herself at the porter’s lamentation:  but without replying to him, she spoke a second time to the rest; “Answer me, and say who you are, otherwise you shall not live one moment longer:  I cannot believe you to be honest men, or persons of authority or distinction in your own countries; for if you were, you would have been more modest and more respectful to us.”

The caliph, naturally warm, was infinitely more indignant than the rest, to find his life depending upon the command of a woman:  but he began to conceive some hopes, when he found she wished to know who they all were; for he imagined she would not put him to death, when informed of his quality; therefore he spoke with a low voice to the vizier, who was near him, to declare it speedily:  but the vizier, more prudent, resolved to save his master’s honour, and not let the world know the affront he had brought upon himself by his own imprudence; and therefore answered, “We have what we deserve.”  But if he had intended to speak as the caliph commanded him, Zobeide would not have allowed him time:  for having turned to the calenders, and seeing them all blind with one eye, she asked if they were brothers.  One of them answered, “No, madam, no otherwise than as we are calenders; that is to say, as we observe the same rules.”  “Were you born blind of the right eye,” continued she?  “No, madam,” answered he; “I lost my eye in such a surprising adventure, that it would be instructive to every body were it in writing:  after that misfortune I shaved my beard and eyebrows, and took the habit of a calender which I now wear.”

Zobeide asked the other two calenders the same question, and had the same answers; but the last who spoke added, “Madam, to shew you that we are no common fellows, and that you may have some consideration for us, be pleased to know, that we are all three sons of sultans; and though we never met together till this evening, yet we have had time enough to make that known to one another; and I assure you that the sultans from whom we derive our being were famous in the world.”

At this discourse Zobeide suppressed her anger, and said to the slaves, “Give them their liberty a while, but remain where you are.  Those who tell us their history, and the occasion of their coming, do them no hurt, let them go where they please; but do not spare those who refuse to give us that satisfaction.”