"Allah Kerim! Salaam aleikum! God's blessing go with your mirth. Why,
you were so merry that I heard you at the cemetery yonder as I was
passing. If it will not put you out I should be delighted to remain
here, as long as you will let me, that I may listen to the music this
worthy Mussulman here understands so well, and to the pretty stories
which flow from the harmonious lips of this houri who has, I am
persuaded, come down from Paradise for the delight of men."
Now Musli was drunk with wine, Guel-Bejaze and Halil Patrona were drunk
with love, so that not one of them had any exception to take to the
stranger's words. Janaki was the only sober man among them, neither wine
nor love had any attraction for him, and therefore he whispered in the
ear of Halil:
"For all you know this stranger may be a spy or a thief!"
"What an idea!" Halil whispered back, "why you can see for yourself that
he is only an honest baltaji.[1] Sit down, oh, worthy Mussulman," he
continued, turning to the stranger, "and make one of our little party."
The Berber-Bashi took him at his word. He ate and drank like one who has
gone hungry for three whole days, he was enchanted with the tambourine
of Musli, listened with open mouth to his story of the miserly slippers,
and laughed as heartily as if he had never heard it at least a hundred
times before.
"And now you tell us some tale, most beautiful of women!" said he,
wiping the tears from his eyes as he turned towards the damsel, and then
Guel-Bejaze, after first kissing her husband and sipping from the beaker
extended to her just enough to moisten her lips, thus began:
"Once upon a time there was a rich merchant.
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