With that, the negro threw himself upon the woman, who pushed him back.
At this moment the King felt his heart oppressed; he drew his sword, as did his companions, and they entered the room. The negroes and women saw nothing but brandished swords.
One of the negroes rose, and rushed upon the King and his companions, but the Chaouch severed with one blow his head from his body. The King cried, "God's blessing upon you! Your arm is not withered and your mother has not borne a weakling. You have struck down your enemies, and the paradise shall be your dwelling and place of rest!"
Another negro got up and aimed a blow at the Chaouch, which broke the sword of the Chaouch in twain. It had been a beautiful weapon, and the Chaouch, on seeing it ruined, broke out into the most violent passion; he seized the negro by the arm, lifted him up, and threw him against the wall, breaking his bones. Then the King cried, "God is great. He has not dried up your hand. Oh, what a Chaouch! God grant you his blessings."
The negroes, when they saw this, were cowed and silent, and the King, master now of their lives, said, "The man that lifts his hand only, shall lose his head!" And he commanded that the remaining five negroes should have their hands tied behind their backs.
This having been done, he turned to Beder el Bedour and asked her, "Whose wife are you, and who is this negro?"
She then told him on that subject what he had heard already from Omar. And the King thanked her saying,
