The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their Younger Sister

Once upon a time there reigned over Persia a Sultan named Kosrouschah,
who from his boyhood had been fond of putting on a disguise and seeking
adventures in all parts of the city, accompanied by one of his
officers, disguised like himself. And no sooner was his father buried
and the ceremonies over that marked his accession to the throne, than
the young man hastened to throw off his robes of state, and calling to
his vizir to make ready likewise, stole out in the simple dress of a
private citizen into the less known streets of the capital.

Passing down a lonely street, the Sultan heard women's voices in loud
discussion; and peeping through a crack in the door, he saw three
sisters, sitting on a sofa in a large hall, talking in a very lively
and earnest manner. Judging from the few words that reached his ear,
they were each explaining what sort of men they wished to marry.

"I ask nothing better," cried the eldest, "than to have the Sultan's
baker for a husband. Think of being able to eat as much as one wanted,
of that delicious bread that is baked for his Highness alone! Let us
see if your wish is as good as mine."

"I," replied the second sister, "should be quite content with the
Sultan's head cook. What delicate stews I should feast upon! And, as
I am persuaded that the Sultan's bread is used all through the palace,
I should have that into the bargain. You see, my dear sister, my taste
is as good as yours."

It was now the turn of the youngest sister, who was by far the most
beautiful of the three, and had, besides, more sense than the other
two. "As for me," she said, "I should take a higher flight; and if we
are to wish for husbands, nothing less than the Sultan himself will do
for me."

The Sultan was so much amused by the conversation he had overheard,
that he made up his mind to gratify their wishes, and turning to the
grand-vizir, he bade him note the house, and on the following morning
to bring the ladies into his presence.

The grand-vizir fulfilled his commission, and hardly giving them time
to change their dresses, desired the three sisters to follow him to the
palace. Here they were presented one by one, and when they had bowed
before the Sultan, the sovereign abruptly put the question to them:

"Tell me, do you remember what you wished for last night, when you were
making merry? Fear nothing, but answer me the truth."

These words, which were so unexpected, threw the sisters into great
confusion, their eyes fell, and the blushes of the youngest did not
fail to make an impression on the heart of the Sultan. All three
remained silent, and he hastened to continue: "Do not be afraid, I
have not the slightest intention of giving you pain, and let me tell
you at once, that I know the wishes formed by each one. You," he said,
turning to the youngest, "who desired to have me for an husband, shall
be satisfied this very day. And you," he added, addressing himself to
the other two, "shall be married at the same moment to my baker and to
my chief cook."

When the Sultan had finished speaking the three sisters flung
themselves at his feet, and the youngest faltered out, "Oh, sire, since
you know my foolish words, believe, I pray you, that they were only
said in joke. I am unworthy of the honour you propose to do me, and I
can only ask pardon for my boldness."

The other sisters also tried to excuse themselves, but the Sultan would
hear nothing.

"No, no," he said, "my mind is made up. Your wishes shall be
accomplished."

So the three weddings were celebrated that same day, but with a great
difference. That of the youngest was marked by all the magnificence
that was customary at the marriage of the Shah of Persia, while the
festivities attending the nuptials of the Sultan's baker and his chief
cook were only such as were suitable to their conditions.

This, though quite natural, was highly displeasing to the elder
sisters, who fell into a passion of jealousy, which in the end caused a
great deal of trouble and pain to several people. And the first time
that they had the opportunity of speaking to each other, which was not
till several days later at a public bath, they did not attempt to
disguise their feelings.

"Can you possibly understand what the Sultan saw in that little cat,"
said one to the other, "for him to be so fascinated by her?"

"He must be quite blind," returned the wife of the chief cook. "As for
her looking a little younger than we do, what does that matter? You
would have made a far better Sultana than she."

"Oh, I say nothing of myself," replied the elder, "and if the Sultan
had chosen you it would have been all very well; but it really grieves
me that he should have selected a wretched little creature like that.
However, I will be revenged on her somehow, and I beg you will give me
your help in the matter, and to tell me anything that you can think of
that is likely to mortify her."

In order to carry out their wicked scheme the two sisters met
constantly to talk over their ideas, though all the while they
pretended to be as friendly as ever towards the Sultana, who, on her
part, invariably treated them with kindness. For a long time no plan
occurred to the two plotters that seemed in the least likely to meet
with success, but at length the expected birth of an heir gave them the
chance for which they had been hoping.

They obtained permission of the Sultan to take up their abode in the
palace for some weeks, and never left their sister night or day. When
at last a little boy, beautiful as the sun, was born, they laid him in
his cradle and carried it down to a canal which passed through the
grounds of the palace. Then, leaving it to its fate, they informed the
Sultan that instead of the son he had so fondly desired the Sultana had
given birth to a puppy. At this dreadful news the Sultan was so
overcome with rage and grief that it was with great difficulty that the
grand-vizir managed to save the Sultana from his wrath.

Meanwhile the cradle continued to float peacefully along the canal
till, on the outskirts of the royal gardens, it was suddenly perceived
by the intendant, one of the highest and most respected officials in
the kingdom.

"Go," he said to a gardener who was working near, "and get that cradle
out for me."

The gardener did as he was bid, and soon placed the cradle in the hands
of the intendant.

The official was much astonished to see that the cradle, which he had
supposed to be empty, contained a baby, which, young though it was,
already gave promise of great beauty. Having no children himself,
although he had been married some years, it at once occurred to him
that here was a child which he could take and bring up as his own.
And, bidding the man pick up the cradle and follow him, he turned
towards home.

"My wife," he exclaimed as he entered the room, "heaven has denied us
any children, but here is one that has been sent in their place. Send
for a nurse, and I will do what is needful publicly to recognise it as
my son."

The wife accepted the baby with joy, and though the intendant saw quite
well that it must have come from the royal palace, he did not think it
was his business to inquire further into the mystery.

The following year another prince was born and sent adrift, but happily
for the baby, the intendant of the gardens again was walking by the
canal, and carried it home as before.

The Sultan, naturally enough, was still more furious the second time
than the first, but when the same curious accident was repeated in the
third year he could control himself no longer, and, to the great joy of
the jealous sisters, commanded that the Sultana should be executed.
But the poor lady was so much beloved at Court that not even the dread
of sharing her fate could prevent the grand-vizir and the courtiers
from throwing themselves at the Sultan's feet and imploring him not to
inflict so cruel a punishment for what, after all, was not her fault.

"Let her live," entreated the grand-vizir, "and banish her from your
presence for the rest of her days. That in itself will be punishment
enough."

His first passion spent, the Sultan had regained his self-command.
"Let her live then," he said, "since you have it so much at heart. But
if I grant her life it shall only be on one condition, which shall make
her daily pray for death. Let a box be built for her at the door of
the principal mosque, and let the window of the box be always open.
There she shall sit, in the coarsest clothes, and every Mussulman who
enters the mosque shall spit in her face in passing. Anyone that
refuses to obey shall be exposed to the same punishment himself. You,
vizir, will see that my orders are carried out."

The grand-vizir saw that it was useless to say more, and, full of
triumph, the sisters watched the building of the box, and then listened
to the jeers of the people at the helpless Sultana sitting inside. But
the poor lady bore herself with so much dignity and meekness that it
was not long before she had won the sympathy of those that were best
among the crowd.

But it is now time to return to the fate of the third baby, this time a
princess. Like its brothers, it was found by the intendant of the
gardens, and adopted by him and his wife, and all three were brought up
with the greatest care and tenderness.

As the children grew older their beauty and air of distinction became
more and more marked, and their manners had all the grace and ease that
is proper to people of high birth. The princes had been named by their
foster-father Bahman and Perviz, after two of the ancient kings of
Persia, while the princess was called Parizade, or the child of the
genii.

The intendant was careful to bring them up as befitted their real rank,
and soon appointed a tutor to teach the young princes how to read and
write. And the princess, determined not to be left behind, showed
herself so anxious to learn with her brothers, that the intendant
consented to her joining in their lessons, and it was not long before
she knew as much as they did.

From that time all their studies were done in common. They had the
best masters for the fine arts, geography, poetry, history and science,
and even for sciences which are learned by few, and every branch seemed
so easy to them, that their teachers were astonished at the progress
they made. The princess had a passion for music, and could sing and
play upon all sorts of instruments she could also ride and drive as
well as her brothers, shoot with a bow and arrow, and throw a javelin
with the same skill as they, and sometimes even better.

In order to set off these accomplishments, the intendant resolved that
his foster children should not be pent up any longer in the narrow
borders of the palace gardens, where he had always lived, so he bought
a splendid country house a few miles from the capital, surrounded by an
immense park. This park he filled with wild beasts of various sorts,
so that the princes and princess might hunt as much as they pleased.

When everything was ready, the intendant threw himself at the Sultan's
feet, and after referring to his age and his long services, begged his
Highness's permission to resign his post. This was granted by the
Sultan in a few gracious words, and he then inquired what reward he
could give to his faithful servant. But the intendant declared that he
wished for nothing except the continuance of his Highness's favour, and
prostrating himself once more, he retired from the Sultan's presence.

Five or six months passed away in the pleasures of the country, when
death attacked the intendant so suddenly that he had no time to reveal
the secret of their birth to his adopted children, and as his wife had
long been dead also, it seemed as if the princes and the princess would
never know that they had been born to a higher station than the one
they filled. Their sorrow for their father was very deep, and they
lived quietly on in their new home, without feeling any desire to leave
it for court gaieties or intrigues.

One day the princes as usual went out to hunt, but their sister
remained alone in her apartments. While they were gone an old
Mussulman devotee appeared at the door, and asked leave to enter, as it
was the hour of prayer. The princess sent orders at once that the old
woman was to be taken to the private oratory in the grounds, and when
she had finished her prayers was to be shown the house and gardens, and
then to be brought before her.

Although the old woman was very pious, she was not at all indifferent
to the magnificence of all around her, which she seemed to understand
as well as to admire, and when she had seen it all she was led by the
servants before the princess, who was seated in a room which surpassed
in splendour all the rest.

"My good woman," said the princess pointing to a sofa, "come and sit
beside me. I am delighted at the opportunity of speaking for a few
moments with so holy a person." The old woman made some objections to
so much honour being done her, but the princess refused to listen, and
insisted that her guest should take the best seat, and as she thought
she must be tired ordered refreshments.

While the old woman was eating, the princess put several questions to
her as to her mode of life, and the pious exercises she practiced, and
then inquired what she thought of the house now that she had seen it.

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "one must be hard indeed to please to
find any fault. It is beautiful, comfortable and well ordered, and it
is impossible to imagine anything more lovely than the garden. But
since you ask me, I must confess that it lacks three things to make it
absolutely perfect."

"And what can they be?" cried the princess. "Only tell me, and I will
lose no time in getting them."

"The three things, madam," replied the old woman, "are, first, the
Talking Bird, whose voice draws all other singing birds to it, to join
in chorus. And second, the Singing Tree, where every leaf is a song
that is never silent. And lastly the Golden Water, of which it is only
needful to pour a single drop into a basin for it to shoot up into a
fountain, which will never be exhausted, nor will the basin ever
overflow."

"Oh, how can I thank you," cried the princess, "for telling me of such
treasures! But add, I pray you, to your goodness by further informing
me where I can find them."

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "I should ill repay the hospitality you
have shown me if I refused to answer your question. The three things
of which I have spoken are all to be found in one place, on the borders
of this kingdom, towards India. Your messenger has only to follow the
road that passes by your house, for twenty days, and at the end of that
time, he is to ask the first person he meets for the Talking Bird, the
Singing Tree, and the Golden Water." She then rose, and bidding
farewell to the princess, went her way.

The old woman had taken her departure so abruptly that the Princess
Parizade did not perceive till she was really gone that the directions
were hardly clear enough to enable the search to be successful. And
she was still thinking of the subject, and how delightful it would be
to possess such rarities, when the princes, her brothers, returned from
the chase.

"What is the matter, my sister?" asked Prince Bahman; "why are you so
grave? Are you ill? Or has anything happened?"

Princess Parizade did not answer directly, but at length she raised her
eyes, and replied that there was nothing wrong.

"But there must be something," persisted Prince Bahman, "for you to
have changed so much during the short time we have been absent. Hide
nothing from us, I beseech you, unless you wish us to believe that the
confidence we have always had in one another is now to cease."

"When I said that it was nothing," said the princess, moved by his
words, "I meant that it was nothing that affected you, although I admit
that it is certainly of some importance to me. Like myself, you have
always thought this house that our father built for us was perfect in
every respect, but only to-day I have learned that three things are
still lacking to complete it. These are the Talking Bird, the Singing
Tree, and the Golden Water." After explaining the peculiar qualities
of each, the princess continued: "It was a Mussulman devotee who told
me all this, and where they might all be found. Perhaps you will think
that the house is beautiful enough as it is, and that we can do quite
well without them; but in this I cannot agree with you, and I shall
never be content until I have got them. So counsel me, I pray, whom to
send on the undertaking."

"My dear sister," replied Prince Bahman, "that you should care about
the matter is quite enough, even if we took no interest in it
ourselves. But we both feel with you, and I claim, as the elder, the
right to make the first attempt, if you will tell me where I am to go,
and what steps I am to take."

Prince Perviz at first objected that, being the head of the family, his
brother ought not to be allowed to expose himself to danger; but Prince
Bahman would hear nothing, and retired to make the needful preparations
for his journey.