Know, O my daughter, that there was once a merchant who owned much money and many men, and who was rich in cattle and camels; he had also a wife and family and he dwelt in the country, being experienced in husbandry and devoted to agriculture. Now Allah Most High had endowed him with the gift of understanding the tongues of beasts and birds of every kind, but under pain of death if he divulged the gift to any. So he kept it secret out of sheer fear. He had in his cowhouse a Bull and an Ass, each tethered in his own stall, one close by the other. As the merchant was sitting nearby one day, with his servants about him and his children playing, he heard the Bull say to the Ass:

"Hail and health to you, Father Wakener! You enjoy nothing but rest and good service — everything around you is swept clean and freshly sprinkled; men wait upon you and feed you, and your provisions are sifted barley and pure spring water. While I, unhappy creature, am led out in the middle of the night, when they set on my neck the plough and a thing called the Yoke; and I tire at cleaving the earth from dawn till sunset. I am forced to do more than I can bear, and to suffer all manner of ill treatment from night to night. Afterward they bring me back with my sides torn, my neck flayed, my legs aching and my eyelids raw with weeping. Then they shut me up in the byre and throw me beans and crushed straw mixed with dirt and chaff, and I lie in dung and filth and foul stinks through the long night. But you are ever in a place swept and sprinkled and clean, and you are always lying at ease — save when it happens, seldom enough, that the master has some business, when he mounts you and rides you to town and returns with you directly. So it happens that I am toiling and distressed while you take your ease and your rest; you sleep while I lie sleepless; I go hungry while you eat your fill, and I win contempt while you win good will."

When the Bull had finished speaking, the Ass turned towards him and said: "O Broad-o'-Brow — O you lost one! He lied not who called you Bull-head, for you, O father of a Bull, have neither forethought nor contrivance; you are the simplest of simpletons, and you know nothing of good counsel. Have you not heard the saying of the wise:—

For others these hardships and labours I bear And theirs is the pleasure and mine is the care; As the bleacher who blacks his brow in the sun To whiten the raiment which other men wear.

But you, O fool, are full of zeal — you toil and moil before the master; you tear and wear and slay yourself for the comfort of another. Have you never heard the proverb: None to guide, and from the way go wide? You go forth at the call to dawn prayer and return not till sundown; and through the livelong day you endure all manner of hardships — beating and belabouring and bad language. Now hear me, Sir Bull! When they tie you to your stinking manger, you paw the ground with your forehoofs and lash out with your hind legs and push with your horns and bellow aloud, so they take you for a contented beast. And when they throw you your fodder you fall on it with greed and hasten to line your fat paunch. But if you follow my advice it will be better for you, and you will lead an easier life even than mine. When you go to the field and they lay the Yoke on your neck, lie down and rise not again, though perhaps they beat you; and if you rise, lie down a second time. When they bring you home and offer you your beans, fall back, only sniff at your food and draw away — taste nothing, and be satisfied with your crushed straw and chaff. In this way feign that you are sick, and do not stop doing this for a day or two days or even three days."

"So shall you have rest from toil and moil."

When the Bull heard these words he knew the Ass to be his friend and thanked him, saying, "Your advice is sound," and he prayed that all blessings might requite him and cried, "O Father Wakener! You have made up for my failings." (Now the merchant, O my daughter, understood all that passed between them.)

Next day the driver took the Bull, settled the plough on his neck and made him work as usual; but the Bull began to shirk his ploughing, following the Ass's advice. The ploughman beat him until he broke the yoke and made off — but the man caught him up and thrashed him until the Bull despaired of his life. Not the less, however, would he do anything but stand still and drop down, and so it went until the evening. Then the herd led him home and stabled him in his stall, but he drew back from his manger and neither stamped nor ramped nor butted nor bellowed as he was wont to do, which puzzled the man greatly. He brought him beans and husks, but the Bull sniffed at them and left them and lay down as far from them as he could and passed the whole night fasting.

The peasant came next morning and, seeing the manger full of beans, the crushed straw untasted, and the ox lying on his back in sorry plight — legs outstretched and belly swollen — he was concerned and said to himself: "By God, he has surely sickened, and this is why he would not plough yesterday." Then he went to the merchant and reported: "O my master, the Bull is ailing; he refused his fodder last night, and indeed he has not tasted a scrap of it this morning."

Now the merchant understood what all this meant, for he had overheard the talk between the Bull and the Ass. He said: "Take that rascal donkey, and set the yoke on his neck, and bind him to the plough and make him do the Bull's work."

Thereupon the ploughman took the Ass and worked him through the livelong day at the Bull's task; and when the Ass flagged from weakness, the man made him eat stick until his ribs were sore and his sides were sunken and his neck was flayed by the yoke. When he came home in the evening he could hardly drag his legs along. But as for the Bull, he had passed the day lying at full length, had eaten his fodder with an excellent appetite, and did not stop calling down blessings on the Ass for his good advice — not knowing what had come upon the poor creature on his account.

So when night fell and the Ass returned to the byre, the Bull rose up before him in honour and said: "May good tidings gladden your heart, O Father Wakener! Through you I have rested all this day and eaten my meat in peace and quiet."

But the Ass returned no reply — only his wrath and heartburn and fatigue and the beating he had taken. He repented with the most grievous repentance and said to himself: "This is the fruit of my folly in giving good counsel. As the proverb says: I was in joy and gladness — nothing but my own meddling brought me this sadness. But I will bear in mind my worth and the nobility of my nature; for what says the poet?

Shall the beautiful hue of the Basil fail Tho' the beetle's foot o'er the Basil crawl? And though spider and fly be its denizens Shall disgrace attach to the royal hall? The cowrie, I ken, shall have currency But the pearl's clear drop, shall its value fall?

"Now I must think and put a trick upon him and return him to his place — else I die."

Then he went exhausted to his manger, while the Bull thanked him and blessed him.

"And even so, O my daughter," said the Wazir, "you will die for lack of wit — so sit still, say nothing, and do not expose your life to such peril; for by God, I offer you the best advice, which springs from my love and care for you."

"O my father," she answered, "I must go up to this King and be married to him."

"Do not do this thing," he said.

"Of a truth I will," she replied — at which he rejoined: "If you are not silent and do not stay quiet, I will do to you what the merchant did to his wife."

"And what did he do?" she asked.

"Know then," answered the Wazir, "that after the Ass returned, the merchant went out onto the terrace roof with his wife and family, for it was a moonlit night and the moon was at its full.

Now the terrace overlooked the cowhouse. Presently, as he sat there with his children playing about him, the merchant heard the Ass say to the Bull: "Tell me, O Father Broad-o'-Brow, what do you intend to do tomorrow?"

The Bull answered: "What but continue to follow your counsel, O Aliboron? Indeed it was as good as good could be and it has given me rest and repose; nor will I now depart from it one jot. When they bring me my meat I will refuse it, blow out my belly and feign illness."

The Ass shook his head and said: "Beware of so doing, O Father of a Bull!"

The Bull asked why, and the Ass answered: "Know that I am about to give you the best counsel, for truly I heard our owner say to the herd: If the Bull does not rise from his place to do his work this morning, and if he leaves his fodder again today, take him to the butcher and let him be slaughtered — give his flesh to the poor and make a strip of leather from his hide. Now I fear for your sake because of this. So take my advice before a calamity befalls you. When they bring your fodder, eat it; rise up and bellow and paw the ground, or our master will surely have you killed. And peace be with you!"

Thereupon the Bull arose, lowed aloud, thanked the Ass and said: "Tomorrow I will go out with them willingly." And he at once ate up all his meat and even licked the manger clean. (All this the owner heard, for he was listening to their talk.)

Next morning the merchant and his wife went to the Bull's stall and sat down. The driver came and led out the Bull, who — on seeing his owner — whisked his tail, broke wind and frisked about so lustily that the merchant burst into laughter, laughing until he fell on his back. His wife asked him: "What makes you laugh with such wild laughter as this?"

He answered: "I laughed at a secret thing I have heard and seen, but I cannot speak of it lest I die for it."

"Then you must tell me," she said. "Disclose the cause of your laughing, even if it costs you your life!"

He replied: "I cannot reveal what beasts and birds say in their tongue, for if I do I shall die."

"By God," she said, "you are lying! This is merely an excuse — you are laughing at me and now you wish to hide something from me. But by the Lord of the Heavens, if you do not reveal the cause I will no longer live with you. I will leave you this instant." And she sat down and wept.

Whereupon the merchant said: "Woe to you! What is this weeping? Fear God and stop pressing me with these questions."

"You must tell me the cause of that laugh," she said.

He replied: "You know that when I prayed to God to grant me understanding of the tongues of beasts and birds, I made a vow never to reveal the secret to any living soul — on pain of death on the spot."

"No matter," she cried. "Tell me what passed between the Bull and the Ass, and die this very hour if that is your choice!" And she did not stop importuning him until he was worn out and utterly distraught.

At last he said: "Summon your father and your mother, and our kinfolk, and some of our neighbours." She did so; and he sent also for the Kazi and his assessors, intending to make his will, reveal his secret and die — for he loved her with exceeding love, she being his cousin, the daughter of his father's brother, the mother of his children, and his companion through a long and happy life. Then, when all the family and the neighbours were assembled, he said: "There hangs a strange story upon me — such that if I reveal the secret I am a dead man." At that, each one present turned to the wife and said: "For God's sake, leave this sinful stubbornness and acknowledge the right of this matter, lest your husband and the father of your children die." But she answered: "I will not turn from it until he tells me, though he come by his death."

So they ceased to urge her. The merchant rose from among them and went to an outhouse to perform his ritual ablutions, intending to return and tell them his secret and die.

Now, daughter Shahrazad — that merchant had in his outhouses some fifty hens under one cock. And while he was making ready to bid his family farewell, he heard one of his farm dogs address the Cock, who was flapping his wings and crowing lustily, jumping from one hen's back to another and treading them all in turn. The dog said:

"O Chanticleer, how mean is your wit and how shameless is your conduct! Shame on whoever raised you! Are you not ashamed of your doings on such a day as this?"

"And what," asked the Rooster, "has happened today?"

The Dog answered: "Do you not know that our master is this day preparing for his death? His wife is resolved that he shall disclose the secret God taught him, and the moment he does so he will surely die. We dogs are all in mourning, and yet you flap your wings and crow your loudest and tread hen after hen. Is this a time for pleasuring? Are you not ashamed of yourself?"

"Then by God," said the Cock, "our master is a fool and a man short of sense. If he cannot manage one wife, his life is not worth prolonging. Now I have fifty wives and I please this one and vex that one, starve this one and stuff another — and through good governance they are all well in hand. This master of ours pretends to wisdom, yet he has but one wife and does not know how to handle her."

The Dog asked: "What then should our master do to come clear of his trouble?"

The Cock answered: "He should get up directly, take some good strong twigs from that mulberry tree, and give her a thorough back-basting and rib-roasting until she cries: I repent, O my lord! I will never ask you a question as long as I live! Then he should beat her once more for good measure, and after that he will sleep sound and enjoy his life. But this master of ours has neither sense nor judgment."

"Now, daughter Shahrazad," the Wazir went on, "I will do to you what that husband did to his wife."

"And what did he do?" asked Shahrazad.

He replied: "When the merchant heard the Cock's wise words to the Dog, he rose in haste, cut a bundle of mulberry twigs and hid them in his wife's chamber, then called to her: 'Come into the closet that I may tell you the secret where no one can see me — and then die.' She went in with him and he locked the door, and he came down upon her with such a thorough beating of back and shoulders, ribs, arms and legs, saying all the while, 'Will you ever again ask questions about what is no concern of yours?' — that she was very nearly senseless. Presently, she cried out: 'I repent! By God, I will ask you no more questions — I repent sincerely and from the bottom of my heart.' Then she kissed his hands and feet, and he led her out of the room as meek and submissive as a wife ought to be. Her parents and all the company rejoiced, and sadness and mourning turned to joy and gladness. Thus the merchant learned the art of household governance from his Cock, and he and his wife lived together in the happiest contentment until death."

"And you also, O my daughter!" continued the Wazir. "Unless you turn from this resolve, I will do to you what that trader did to his wife."

But she answered him with great firmness: "I will never desist, O my father, nor shall this tale change my purpose. Leave such talk. I will not listen to your words; and if you deny me, I will go to the King myself, alone, and I will tell him: I begged my father to give me to you in marriage, but he refused, begrudging the like of me to the like of you."

Her father asked: "Must this truly be?"

"Even so," she answered.

Whereupon the Wazir, weary of lamenting and contending, persuading and dissuading her — all to no purpose — went up to King Shahryar, blessed him and kissed the ground before him, and told him everything about his dispute with his daughter from beginning to end, and how he intended to bring her to him that very night. The King was astonished beyond measure, for he had made an especial exception of the Wazir's daughter. He said to him: "O most faithful of Counsellors — you know that I have sworn by the Raiser of the Heavens that after I have been with her tonight I will say to you in the morning: Take her and slay her! And if you do not slay her, I will slay you in her place without fail."

"God guide you to glory and grant you long life, O King of the Age," answered the Wazir. "It is she who has so determined. I have told her all of this and more, but she will not hear me, and she insists on spending this coming night with the King's Majesty."

So Shahryar rejoiced greatly and said: "Very well — go and make her ready, and bring her to me tonight."

The Wazir returned to his daughter and conveyed the King's command, saying: "May God not make your father desolate by your loss!" But Shahrazad rejoiced with great joy and made ready everything she needed. Then she called her younger sister Dunyazad and said: "Listen carefully to what I am about to charge you. When I have gone in to the King I will send for you, and when you come to me and see that he has had his will of me, you are to say: O my sister, if you are not sleepy, tell us some new tale — delectable and delightsome — to pass the waking hours of the night. And I will tell you a story which shall be our deliverance, if God so please, and which shall turn the King from his bloody custom."

Dunyazad answered: "With all my love and goodwill."

So when night fell, their father the Wazir brought Shahrazad to the King, who was gladdened at the sight and asked: "Have you brought me what I asked for?" and the Wazir answered: "I have." But when the King took her to his bed and fell to toying with her and wished to go in to her, she wept — which made him ask: "What ails you?" She replied: "O King of the Age, I have a younger sister, and I would dearly take leave of her tonight before I see the dawn." So he sent at once for Dunyazad, and she came and kissed the ground before him, and he permitted her to sit near the foot of the couch.

Then the King arose and took his bride's maidenhead, and the three fell asleep. But when midnight came, Shahrazad awoke and signalled to her sister Dunyazad, who sat up and said: "O my sister, if you are not sleepy, tell us some new story — delightsome and delectable — to while away the waking hours of the night."

"With joy and gladly," answered Shahrazad, "if this pious and auspicious King permits me."

"Tell on," said the King — who happened to be sleepless and restless and was well pleased at the prospect of hearing her story.

So Shahrazad rejoiced, and thus, on the first night of the Thousand Nights and a Night, she began: