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prizing, than the Story of this Fiſherman, replied the Sultaneſs you will by convinc’d of it next Night, if the Sultan will be ſo gracious, as to let me live. Schahriar being curious to hear the Succeſs of ſuch an extraordinary Fiſhing, would not order Scheherazade to be put to death that Day.
The Ninth Night.
MY dear Siſter, cries Dinarzade next Morning at the uſual Hour, if you be not aſleep, I pray you to go on
with the Story of the Fiſherman; I am ready to die till I Hear it. I am willing to give you that Satisfaction, ſays the Sultaneſs; but at the ſame time, ſhe demanded leave of the Sultan, and having obtain’d it, began the Story again, as follows:
Sir, when the Fiſherman, vex’d to have made ſuch a ſorry Draught, had mended his Nets, which the Carcaſs of Aſs had broke in ſeveral places, he threw them in a ſecond time; and when he drew them, found a great deal of Reſiſtance, which made him to think he had taken abundance of Fiſh; but he found nothing, except a Pannier full of Gravel and Slime, which grieved him extreamly. O Fortune! cries he, with a lamentable Tone, don’t be angry at me, nor perſecute a Wretch, who prays thee to ſpare him. I came hither from my Houſe, to ſeek for my livelihood, and thou pronounceſt Death againſt me. I have no other Trade but this to ſubſiſt by; and notwithſtanding all the Care I take, I can ſcarcely provide what is abſolutely necefſary for my ſamily. But I am in the Wrong to complain of thee; thou tak’ſt Pleaſure to perſecute honeſt People, and to leave great Men in Obſcurity, whilſt thou ſhew’ſt ſavour to the Wicked, and advanceſt thoſe who have no Virtue to recommend them.
Having finiſh’d this Complaint, he threw away the Pannnier in a fret, and waſhing his Nets from the Slime, caſt them the third time; bur brought up nothing, except Stones, Shells and Mudd. No body can expreſs his Diſorder; he was within an Ace of going quite mad, How-ever
