[Footnote A:  In the old version the word “Calender” is used; in the new translation by Lane we read of “The Three Royal Mendicants.”  In certain ancient editions they are called “Karendelees,”—­i.e., “miserable beggars.”  Each of the three had lost an eye in the course of his misfortunes.  The story (of the Third Kalender) begins with the wreck of the prince’s vessel on the mountain of loadstone and the feat of the prince, who shoots the brazen horseman on top of the mountain and so breaks the charm.  But there is a long chain of wonders and of troubles, of evil enchantments and of fateful happenings.]

III.—­The third number is the idyll,—­both of the stories and of the music.  Here we are nearest to a touch of sentiment,—­apart from the mere drama of haps and mishaps.[A] But there are all kinds of special events.  There is no prelude of the narrator.  The idyll begins straightway, Andantino quasi allegretto, winds through all kinds of scenes and storms, then sings again dolce e cantabile.  Here, at last, the Scherezade phrase is heard on the violin solo, to chords of the harp; but presently it is lost in the concluding strains of the love story.

[Footnote A:  The story, if any particular one is in the mind of the composer, is probably that of the Prince Kamar-ez-Zeman and the Princess Budoor.  In the quality of the romance it approaches the legends of a later age of chivalry.  In the main it is the long quest and the final meeting of a prince and a princess, living in distant kingdoms.  Through the magic of genii they have seen each other once and have exchanged rings.  The rest of the story is a long search one for the other.  There are good and evil spirits, long journeys by land and sea, and great perils.  It is an Arab story of the proverbial course of true love.]

IV.—­The last number begins with the motive of the sea, like the first, but Allegro molto, again followed by the phrase of the story teller.  The sea returns Allegro molto e frenetico in full force, and likewise the vague motive of the story in a cadenza of violin solo.  Then Vivo comes the dance, the pomp and gaiety of the Festival, with tripping tambourine and strings and the song first in the flutes.[A] Presently a reminder of the sea intrudes,—­con forza in lower wood and strings.  But other familiar figures flit by,—­the evil jinn and the love-idyll.  Indeed the latter has a full verse,—­in the midst of the carnival.

[Footnote A:  We may think of the revels of Sindbad before the returning thirst for adventure.]

Right out of the festival, rather in full festal array, we seem to plunge into the broad movement of the surging sea, Allegro non troppo e maestoso, straight on to the fateful event.  There are no sighs and tears.  Placidly the waves play softly about.  And dolce e capriccioso the siren Scherezade once more reappears to conclude the tale.