“Mighty sultan,” replied the fisherman, “two men who last night visited our house inquired why we did not repair to your majesty, and partake of your bounty.  We replied, that we feared the guards would drive us away; when one of them gave us this note, saying, ‘Fear not; take this recommendation to the sultan, with whom in my youth I was intimate.’  We followed his direction, and have found his words to be true.  We inquired whence they came; but they would not tell us more than that they were strangers in this city.”  “It is,"continued the sultan, “absolutely necessary that you should bring them to my presence, for it is long since I have beheld my old friends.”  “Permit us then to return home, where they may possibly visit us again,” said the fisherman, “and we will oblige them to come with us.”  “How can you do that, “replied the sultan, “when the other evening you could not prevent your guest escaping, though you had him by the nose?”

The poor fisherman, and his companion the cauzee, were now confounded at the discovery that it was the sultan himself who had witnessed their intoxication and ridiculous transports.  They trembled, turned pale, and fell prostrate to the ground, crying, “Pardon, pardon, gracious sovereign, for the offences we have committed, and the insult which in our madness we offered to the sacred person of your majesty.”

The sultan, after laughing heartily at their distress, replied, “Your pardon is granted, for the insult was involuntary, though deserved, as I was an impertinent intruder on your privacy; make yourselves easy, and sit down; but you must each of you relate to me your adventures, or some story that you have heard.”  The cauzee and the fisherman, having recovered from their confusion, obeyed the commands of the sultan, and being seated, the latter related the following tale.

Story of the Bang-eater and His Wife.

There lived formerly, near Bagdad, a half-witted fellow, who was much addicted to the use of bang.  Being reduced to poverty, he was obliged to sell his stock.  One day he went to the market to dispose of a cow; but the animal being in bad order, no one would bid for it, and after waiting till he was weary he returned homewards.  On the way he stopped to repose himself under a tree, and tied the cow to one of the branches while he ate some bread, and drank of an infusion of his beloved bang, which he always carried with him.  In a short time it began to operate, so as to bereave him of the little sense he possessed, and his head was filled with ridiculous reveries.  While he was musing, a magpie beginning to chatter from her nest in the tree, he fancied it was a human voice, and that some woman had asked to purchase his cow:  upon which he said, “Reverend mother of Solomon, dost thou wish to buy my cow?” The bird croaked again.  “Well,” replied he,” what wilt thou give if I will sell her a bargain.”  The bird repeated her croak.