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," said he, "is, in obedience to
your commands, the account I was to give how I lost my right eye,
wherefore my beard and eye-brows 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 honour;" and that he might also
hear those of the three other persons in company.

The story of the first calender seemed wonderful to the whole
company, but especially to the caliph, who, notwithstanding the
slaves stood by with their cimeters drawn, could not forbear
whispering to the vizier "Many stories have I heard, but never
any that equalled in surprising incident that of the calender."
Whilst he was saying this, the second calender began, addressing
himself to Zobeide.




The Story of the Second Calender.