There lived once, in a city of Persia a goldsmith who delighted in women and in drinking wine. One day, being in the house of one of his intimates, he saw painted on the wall the figure of a lutanist, a beautiful damsel, beholder never beheld a fairer or a more pleasant. He looked at the picture again and again, marvelling at its beauty, and fell so desperately in love with it, that he sickened for passion and came near to die. It chanced that one of his friends came to visit him and sitting down by his side, asked how he did and what ailed him, whereto the goldsmith answered, "O my brother, that which ails me is love, and it befell in this way. I saw a figure of a woman painted on the house wall of my brother such an one and became enamoured of it." Hereupon the other fell to blaming him and said, "This was of your lack of wit; how could you fall in love with a painted figure on a wall, that can neither harm nor profit, that sees not neither hears, that neither takes nor withholds." Said the sick man, "He who painted that picture never could have limned it save after the likeness of some beautiful woman." "Perhaps," rejoined his friend, "he painted it from imagination." "In any case," replied the goldsmith, "here am I dying for love of the picture, and if there live the original of it in the world, I pray Allah Most High to protect my life till I see her."

When those who were present went out, they asked for the painter of the picture and, finding that he had travelled to another town, wrote him a letter, complaining of their comrade's case and enquiring whether he had drawn the figure of his own inventive talents or copied it from a living model; to which he replied, "I painted it after a certain singing girl belonging to one of the Wazirs in the city of Cashmere in the land of Hind." When the goldsmith heard this, he left Persia for Cashmere city, where he arrived after much travail. He tarried awhile there till one day he went and clapped up an acquaintance with a certain of the citizens who was a druggist, a fellow of a sharp wit, keen, crafty; and, being one even tide in company with him, asked him of their King and his polity; to which the other answered, saying, "Well, our King is just and righteous in his governance, equitable to his subjects and beneficent to his commons and abhorrs nothing in the world save sorcerers; but, whenever a sorcerer or sorceress falls into his hands, he casts them into a pit without the city and there leavs them in hunger to die."

Then he questioned him of the King's Wazirs, and the druggist told him of each Minister, his fashion and condition, till the talk came round to the singing girl and he told him, "She belongs to such a Wazir." The goldsmith took note of the Minister's abiding place and waited some days, till he had devised a device to his desire; and one night of rain and thunder and stormy winds, he provided himself with thieves' tackle and repaired to the house of the Wazir who owned the damsel. Here he hanged a rope ladder with grappling irons to the battlements and climbed up to the terrace roof of the palace. Thence he descended to the inner court and, making his way into the Harim, found all the slave girls lying asleep, each on her own couch; and amongst them reclining on a couch of alabaster and covered with a coverlet of cloth of gold a damsel, as she were the moon rising on a fourteenth night. At her head stood a candle of ambergris, and at her feet another, each in a candlestick of glittering gold, her brilliancy dimming them both; and under her pillow lay a casket of silver, in which were her jewels. He raised the coverlet and drawing near her, considered her straitly, and behold, it was the lutanist whom he desired and of whom he was come in quest.

So he took out a knife and wounded her in the back parts, a palpable outer wound, whereupon she awoke in terror; but, when she saw him, she was afraid to cry out, thinking he came to steal her goods. So she said to him, "Take the box and what is within it, but slay me not, for I am in your protection and under your safe guard and my death will profit you nothing." Accordingly, he took the box and went away.—

When it was the Five Hundred and Eighty seventh night

Then he set the casket before the King and fared forth. The King opened the box and emptying out all the trinkets it contained, fell to turning them over with his hand, till he chanced upon a necklace whereof he had made gift to the Wazir to whom the girl belonged. Seeing this, he called the Minister in question and said to him, "This is the necklace I gave you?" He knew it at first sight and answered, "It is; and I gave it to a singing girl of mine." the King said, "Bring that girl to me immediately." So he fetched her to him, and he said, "Uncover her back parts and see if there be a wound within it." The Wazir accordingly bared her back and finding a knife wound there said, "Yes, O my lord, there is a wound." Then said the King, "This is the witch of whom the devotee told me, and there can be no doubt of it," and bade cast her into the witches' well. So they carried her there at once. As soon as it was night and the goldsmith knew that his plot had succeeded, he repaired to the pit, taking with him a purse of a thousand dinars, and, entering into converse with the warder, sat talking with him till a third part of the night was passed, when he broached the matter to him, saying, "Know, O my brother, that this girl is innocent of that they lay to her charge and that it was I brought this calamity upon her."

Then he told him the whole story, first and last, adding, "Take, O my brother, this purse of a thousand dinars and give me the damsel, that I may carry her to my own land, for these gold pieces will profit you more than keeping her in prison; moreover Allah will requite you for us, and we too will both offer up prayers for your prosperity and safety." When the warder heard this story, he marvelled with exceeding marvel at that device and its success; then taking the money, he delivered the girl to the goldsmith, conditioning that he should not abide one hour with her in the city. Thereupon the goldsmith took the girl and fared on with her, without ceasing, till he reached his own country and so he won his wish. "See, then, O King" (said the damsel), "the malice of men and their wiles. Now your Wazirs hinder you from doing me justice on your son; but to morrow we shall stand, both you and I, before the Just Judge, and He shall do me justice on you, O King." When the King heard this, he commanded to put his son to death; but the fifth Wazir came in to him and kissing the ground before him said, "O mighty King, delay and hasten not to slay your son: speed will oftentimes repentance breed, and I fear for you lest you repent, even as did the man who never laughed for the rest of his days." "And how was that, O Wazir?" asked the King He said, "I have heard tell, O King, this tale concerning