“Do you mean to say,” she said, “that your lamp is to blame for the jinni? Remove it from my sight; I want nothing to do with it. I beg you to sell the ring too. It is forbidden to deal with the jinn: they are demons. Our prophet said so.”
“After all the lamp has given us,” replied Aladdin, “I would not sell it just yet. My wicked uncle desired this lamp more than all the gold and silver which he knew to be in those rooms. He knew its power well enough to want nothing more from that vault. Since chance has made us aware of its virtues, let us use it, but discreetly, lest we attract the envy of our neighbors. As for the ring, allow me to keep it and have it always on my finger. Without it, you would not have seen me again. Who knows when some other danger might strike, and I would need its deliverance?” His mother could hardly object, and let him do as he pleased.
The following night after supper, nothing remained of the good food the jinni had brought. In the morning, before hunger could bite, Aladdin took one of the silver dishes under his cloak and went out to sell it. On the way he met a Jewish merchant, to whom he showed the dish and asked if he wanted to buy it. The merchant, recognizing it as good silver, asked him how much it was worth. Aladdin, who had no idea, and who had never traded in such goods, simply said he was well aware of the dish’s value and would count on the man’s good faith. Put out by his ingenuity, the merchant took from his purse a gold coin which made up at most one seventy-second of the dish’s value, and presented it to him. Aladdin seized the coin, and ran away so quickly that the merchant, not content with the profit he had just made, cursed himself for not having realized that Aladdin knew nothing of the price of his dish, and that he might have given him much less. He thought of running after the young man to try and win back some of his money, but Aladdin was racing, and was already too far to reach.
They lived on the coin for a few days, and when money ran out, Aladdin sold another dish to the merchant, until he had sold all twelve. The merchant, who had paid a gold coin for the first, did not dare offer less for the others, for fear of losing out on the bargain. When nothing remained of the silver dishes, Aladdin went for the tray, which alone weighed ten times more than any single dish. He wanted to take it to another merchant, but the weight of it stopped him and he was obliged once again to seek out the same merchant, who paid him ten gold coins.
While the ten gold coins lasted, they were spent on the needs of the household. Aladdin, who was used to an idle life, had renounced the company of other boys since his adventure with the magician. Now he spent his days walking or in conversation with people he met. Sometimes he stopped in the merchants’ shops, where he liked to listen in on the discussions, which over time gave him some understanding of the world.
When nothing remained of the ten gold coins, Aladdin turned to the lamp, and the jinni brought them another feast. After the meal there remained enough for them to live well for two more days.
When they were out of food and money, Aladdin took a silver dish and went to find the merchant to sell it to him. On his way, he passed the shop of an old silversmith who was known for his honesty. The silversmith spotted him and called him in. “My son,” he said, “I have seen you pass by many times, always carrying something as you are now, always going to meet the same merchant, and always returning empty-handed. No doubt you have been selling him your wares. But you are perhaps unaware that this merchant is a cheat, and that none of those who know him will trade with him. If you wished to show me what you are selling, I would faithfully pay you its full price.”
Aladdin pulled the dish from his cloak. The old man, who saw that it was made of fine silver, asked him if he had sold any other dishes to the merchant, and how much the merchant had paid for them. Aladdin confessed that he had sold twelve, and that the merchant had only given him a gold coin apiece. “Ah, the thief!” cried the silversmith. “There is no use regretting it. But when you learn the value of your dish, you will see how the merchant has cheated you.”
The silversmith took the scales and weighed the dish, and told him that it was worth seventy-two gold coins, which he counted out for him at once. “This,” he said, “is the true price of your dish. If you do not believe me, you may ask any one of our silversmiths, and if he tells you it is worth more, I will double my payment.”
Aladdin thanked the silversmith warmly, and from then on went only to him when it came to selling the other dishes, for which he always received a fair price. Though the lamp provided Aladdin and his mother with inexhaustible funds, they lived as frugally as before, and continued in this way for many years.
Aladdin, meanwhile, finished his education by visiting the shops of the finest merchants and joining in their conversations, and gradually took on all the manners of fashionable society. From the company of jewelers he learned that the fruits he had picked in the orchard, which he had believed to be colored glass, were in fact immensely precious stones. By observing the sale and purchase of such stones in the shops, he learned something of their worth, and, as he saw none that compared to his own, neither in beauty nor in size, he understood that he was in possession of an incalculable fortune. He had the prudence to tell no one about it, not even his mother, and there is no doubt that his silence was to thank for the great riches he was to acquire.
The Sultan’s Daughter
One day, as he strolled through the city, Aladdin heard an order from the sultan proclaiming that all shops and houses were to be locked, and that everyone was to stay indoors until Princess Badr al-Budur, or Moon of Moons, the sultan’s daughter, had gone to the baths and returned. Aladdin was seized by a desire to see her face, but he could not peek through the screen of one of the houses near the baths, as he knew the princess would be veiled. Instead he hid himself behind the bathhouse door. Through a slit in the door he saw her arrive, surrounded by a crowd of women and eunuchs. When she was three or four paces from the bathhouse door, she removed her veil.
Until that moment, Aladdin had never seen a woman uncovered except his mother, who was aged now, and whose ordinary features had never led Aladdin to suspect that other women might look any different. He might have heard others talk about beautiful women, but whatever words one might use to describe it, none have the effect of beauty itself.
When Aladdin saw Princess Badr al-Budur, he quickly shed his notion that all women must look more or less like his mother. The princess was the most beautiful woman he had ever seen: she had brown hair, large, bright eyes, a soft and modest gaze, a flawless nose, a small mouth, lovely crimson lips, and all her features were in symphony. Aladdin reeled, shocked by such a combination of marvels. She was tall too, and carried herself magnificently, which drew the respect of all who saw her.
The princess passed into the bathhouse, and Aladdin stood there for a while in a kind of rapture, retracing and impressing on his memory the figure that had charmed his heart. At last he recovered his senses, and, considering that it would be vain to wait for the princess’s exit from the baths, since she would have her back to him and her face covered, he gave up the prospect and went home.
Aladdin could not hide his agitation from his mother. She asked if he was unwell, but Aladdin said nothing and fell sprawled on the sofa, where he remained, busy only with retracing the lovely image of the princess in his mind. His mother, who was busy with supper, pressed him no further. When the meal was ready, she served it beside him on the sofa and sat down at the table, but, seeing that her son paid no attention to it, she told him to eat, and it was only with the greatest strain that he sat up. He ate much less than usual, his gaze lowered, and withdrew so deeply into himself that his mother could not draw a single word from him. After supper she renewed her questions, but Aladdin preferred to go to bed rather than give his mother any satisfaction on the subject.
Setting aside how Aladdin, overpowered by the beauty of the princess, spent the night, let us simply remark that the following day, as he sat on the sofa facing his mother, who was spinning cotton as usual, he said: “Moth
er, I will break the silence I have kept since my return from the city yesterday, which I know has wounded you. I was not ill, as you seemed to believe, nor am I now. Yet I could not tell you what I feel. It is worse than a sickness. Its nature is obscure to me, but perhaps you will understand it by what I am about to tell you.
“You may not have heard,” he went on, “that yesterday it was announced that Princess Badr al-Budur, the sultan’s daughter, would go to the baths after dinner. I learned the news on my walk around the city. An order was proclaimed to close all the shops and stay indoors, in order to show the princess the respect she was due and let her pass freely through the streets. As I was not far from the baths, the curiosity of seeing her uncovered led me to go and stand behind the bathhouse door, fancying that she might remove her veil as she was about to enter. If you remember the door’s position, you can imagine that my scheme would have given me a clear view of her. She did, in fact, remove her veil as she went in, and I had the pleasure of seeing the charming princess. That, Mother, is the reason for the state you saw me in yesterday, and the source of my silence. I love the princess with a force I can hardly express. As my passion burns more brightly with every passing moment, it seems my only satisfaction would be to make her mine. That is why I have resolved to ask the sultan for her hand.”
Aladdin’s mother had listened carefully enough to her son’s story, but at these last words she could not help but burst out laughing. Aladdin wanted to go on, but she cut him short: “My son, what are you thinking? You must have lost your mind to be saying these things.”
“I can assure you I have not,” replied Aladdin, “in fact I have never thought so clearly. I have foreseen your accusations of madness and extravagance, but none of that can deter me. My mind is made up to ask the sultan for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”
“I must tell you,” said his mother very seriously, “that you are not in your right mind. Even if you wanted to act on this decision, I cannot imagine who you could possibly send to ask the sultan.”
“You, of course,” said Aladdin without hesitation.
“Me!” cried the mother. “To the sultan! And who are you, that you presume to covet your sultan’s daughter? Have you forgotten that you are the son of one of the lesser tailors of this city, and of a mother whose ancestors were scarcely more distinguished? Are you aware that sultans are loath to give away their daughters even to the sons of other sultans?”
“I told you I have foreseen these objections,” said Aladdin, “and any more you might raise. Your disapproval cannot sway me. Do not refuse me this favor, unless you would prefer to see me die than to give me life again.”
Alarmed to see how stubbornly he clung to an idea so lacking in good sense, his mother tried again.
“I am your mother,” she said, “and there is nothing within the bounds of reason that I would not do out of love for you. If we were talking of marrying you to the daughter of one of our neighbors, whose condition was similar to ours, I would devote myself, I would do everything in my power to help you, although you would first have to secure some means of an income or learn a craft. But here you are, heedless of your origins, daring to look above your station, to set your sights on no less a person than the daughter of your sovereign, who has only to say a word to crush you. But your fate is yours alone to decide.
As for what concerns me . . . supposing I had the brazenness to appear before His Majesty with such an extravagant request, to whom would I even introduce myself? Do you suppose that the first person I spoke to would not accuse me of lunacy and chase me out? Supposing even that I encountered no such difficulty in gaining access to the sultan, I know that he is quick to welcome his aggrieved subjects, and to grant them the justice they seek. I also know that, to those who come to him seeking mercy and who show themselves to be worthy of it, he is merciful.
But are you one of those, and do you believe you are worthy of the favor you wish to request? What have you done for your sovereign or for your country? How have you distinguished yourself? If you have done nothing to deserve such a favor, if you are not even worthy of it, on what basis could I ask for it? How could I even open my mouth to put the thought to the sultan? His majestic presence and the brilliance of his court would seal my lips at once, I who trembled before your father whenever I had a favor to ask him.
There is another reason, my son, which has not occurred to you, which is that you cannot appear before your sultan empty-handed. A gift ensures that if the favor is refused, the sultan will at least give you his ear. But what gift can you possibly bring? And even if you were to find something worthy of a moment of your monarch’s attention, what proportion would there be between your gift and your request? Think on it, and consider that what you desire is impossible.”
Aladdin listened calmly to everything his mother came up with to deter him from his course, and, having considered each point of her rebuke, he said: “I admit, Mother, that it is bold of me to dare to presume as I do. You say it is not customary to appear before the sultan empty-handed, and that I have nothing that might be worthy of him. I must confess you are right about the gift; I had not considered it. But when you say I have nothing to offer him, do you not think that what I brought home after the night of my near-death would make a delightful present for the sultan? The things with which I filled my pouches and my belt are not, as we had supposed, only colored glass: they are extremely precious stones, fit only for great monarchs. I learned of their value in the jewelers’ shops, but none of those I saw there were comparable to ours, and yet they sell for immense prices. Whatever their value, I am convinced that the sultan cannot but receive them with pleasure. Go and fetch your porcelain bowl, and let us see the effect of all the colors together.”
Aladdin’s mother brought the bowl, and her son removed the gems from the pouches and laid them out against the porcelain. Mother and son were dazzled by their shine, for they had never seen them other than by the light of the lamp. It is true that Aladdin had seen them on their trees, gleaming like fruit, but, being a child, he had believed the stones to be no more than playthings, and had taken them with nothing else in mind.
“Mother,” said Aladdin, “you can no longer evade going to the sultan on the grounds that you have nothing to bring him. This gift will, I believe, earn you a most favorable welcome.” So it was that his mother, both out of tenderness for him and fear that he might give in to some extreme act, overcame her resistance and accepted.
As it was late and the time to go to the palace was past, the matter was put off until morning. Mother and son talked of nothing else for the rest of the day, and Aladdin took care to impress on his mother anything that might strengthen her resolve. But despite all his reasons, she was not persuaded that such a venture could ever succeed; it must be admitted that she had every reason to doubt. “Supposing,” she said, “the sultan receives me as favorably as we hope, and listens calmly to my proposal, but after that warm welcome asks me about your fortune and your estate—what do you expect me to tell him?”
“Mother,” replied Aladdin, “let us not worry ourselves ahead of time over what may not come to pass. Let us first see what sort of welcome you receive from the sultan, and what sort of answer he gives. If he does happen to ask such questions, I will think of a suitable answer. I trust that the lamp, which has been our lifeline all these years, will not fail me when I most need it.”
Before the Sultan
Aladdin and his mother retired for the night, but the violent passion and dreams of endless fortune that filled the son’s mind stopped him from sleeping as soundly as he would have liked. He rose before first light, went to wake his mother, and pressed her to dress as fast as she could in order to be at the palace gate when it opened.
Aladdin’s mother took the porcelain bowl with its gift of gemstones, wrapped it in a napkin, and carried it to the palace. The grand vizier and the lords of council had just entered when she arrived at the gate. She joined the large crowd of people seeking
an audience and walked with them to the divan, or council chamber. It was a splendid room, vast and deep, with a magnificent entrance. She placed herself in front of the sultan. Petitioners were called one after the other, and their matters were discussed, debated, and concluded, until the session was over. Then the sultan rose, dismissed his council, and returned to his apartments, followed by the grand vizier and the other ministers. All those who had gathered to have their matters heard left the room, some satisfied with the outcome of their case, others displeased with the judgment made against them, others still hopeful of being heard at another session.
Aladdin’s mother judged that the sultan would not appear again that day and went home. Her son, seeing her return with the gift, hardly dared ask after her journey. His mother, who had never set foot in the sultan’s palace and had not the first idea of what took place there, spoke with great innocence.
“I saw the sultan,” she said, “and I am sure he saw me too. I was standing right in front of him, and nobody stood between us. But he was preoccupied with all the speakers, and it moved me to see the trouble he took to listen to them. It all lasted so long that I think he got bored, for he stood up unexpectedly and withdrew at once, without having heard the many other people who were waiting to speak. Still, it gave me great pleasure to see him, though I too began to lose patience at having to stand for so long. I will go back tomorrow. Perhaps the sultan will not be so busy.”
Enamored as he was, Aladdin could not but accept this excuse and wait. He was at least satisfied that his mother had made the most difficult leap, which was to hold the sultan’s gaze, and hoped that the sight of others speaking in his presence had emboldened her to act when a favorable moment came.
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