The Story of the Lady who was Murdered, and of the Young Man her
                            Husband.

Commander of the faithful, this murdered lady was my wife, daughter of this old man, who is my uncle by the father’s side.  She was not above twelve years old, when eleven years ago he gave her to me.  I have three children by her, all boys, yet alive, and I must do her the justice to say, that she never gave me the least occasion for offence; she was chaste, of good behaviour, and made it her whole business to please me.  And on my part I ardently loved her, and in every thing rather anticipated than opposed her wishes.

About two months ago she fell sick; I took all imaginable care of her, and spared nothing that could promote her speedy recovery.  After a month thus passed she began to grow better, and expressed a wish to go to the bath.  Before she went, “Cousin,” said she (for so she used to call me out of familiarity), “I long for some apples; if you would get me any, you would greatly please me.  I have longed for them a great while, and I must own it is come to that height, that if I be not satisfied very soon, I fear some misfortune will befall me.”  “I will cheerfully try,” said I, “and do all in my power to make you easy.”

I went immediately round all the markets and shops in the town to seek for apples, but I could not get one, though I offered to pay a sequin a piece.  I returned home much dissatisfied at my failure; and for my wife, when she returned from the bagnio, and saw no apples, she became so very uneasy, that she could not sleep all night.  I got up by times in the morning, and went through all the gardens, but had no better success than the day before; only I happened to meet an old gardener, who told me, that all my pains would signify nothing, for I could not expect to find apples any where but in your majesty’s garden at Bussorah.  As I loved my wife passionately, and would not neglect to satisfy her, I dressed myself in a traveller’s habit, and after I had told her my design, went to Bussorah, and made my journey with such speed, that I returned at the end of fifteen days with three apples, which cost me a sequin apiece, for as there were no more left, the gardener would not let me have them for less.  As soon as I came home, I presented them to my wife, but her longing had ceased, she satisfied herself with receiving them, and laid them down by her.  In the mean time she continued sickly, and I knew not what remedy to procure for her relief.

Some few days after I returned from my journey, sitting in my shop in the public place where all sorts of fine stuffs are sold, I saw an ugly, tall, black slave come in, with an apple in his hand, which I knew to be one of those I had brought from Bussorah.  I had no reason to doubt it, because I was certain there was not one to be had in Bagdad, nor in any of the gardens in the vicinity.  I called to him, and said, “Good slave, pr’ythee tell me