the honour of his bed." The vizier could not hear this without
horror. "O heaven!" he replied in a passion, "have you lost your
senses, daughter, that you make such a dangerous request? You
know the sultan has sworn, that he will never lie above one night
with the same woman, and to command her to be killed the next
morning; would you then have me propose you to him? Consider well
to what your indiscreet zeal will expose you." "Yes, dear
father," replied the virtuous daughter, "I know the risk I run;
but that does not alarm me. If I perish, my death will be
glorious; and if I succeed, I shall do my country an important
service." "No, no," said the vizier "whatever you may offer to
induce me to let you throw yourself into such imminent danger, do
not imagine that I will ever consent. When the sultan shall
command me to strike my poniard into your heart, alas! I must
obey; and what an employment will that be for a father! Ah! if
you do not dread death, at least cherish some fears of afflicting
me with the mortal grief of imbuing my hands in your blood."
"Once more father," replied Scheherazade, "grant me the favour I
solicit." "Your stubbornness," resumed the vizier "will rouse my
anger; why will you run headlong to your ruin? They who do not
foresee the end of a dangerous enterprise can never conduct it to
a happy issue. I am afraid the same thing will happen to you as
befell the ass, which was well off, but could not remain so."
"What misfortune befell the ass?" demanded Scheherazade. "I will
tell you," replied the vizier, "if you will hear me."




The Ass, the Ox, and the Labourer.