In short, after a journey of several months, I arrived yesterday at the gate of this city, into which I entered at dusk: and as I entered, another calender came up; he saluted me, and I him. “You appear,” said I, “to be a stranger, as I am.” “You are not mistaken,” replied he. He had no sooner returned this answer, than a third calender overtook us. He saluted us, and told us he was a stranger newly come to Bagdad; so that as brethren we joined together, resolving not to separate from one another.
It was now late, and we knew not where to seek a lodging in the city, where we had never been before. But good fortune having brought us to your gate, we made bold to knock, when you received us with so much kindness, that we are incapable of rendering suitable thanks. This, madam, is in obedience to your commands, the account I was to give how I lost my right eye, wherefore my beard and eyebrows are shaved, and how I came to be with you at this time.
“It is enough,” said Zobeide; “you may retire to what place you think fit.” The calender begged the ladies’ permission to stay till he had heard the relations of his two comrades, “whom I cannot,” said he, “leave with honor;” and that he might also hear those of the three other persons in company.
He had no sooner finished than the second calender began, and addressing himself to Zobeide, spoke as follows:
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