The young sultan was struck with his dream, and spoke of it very seriously to his mother, who only laughed at it.  “My son,” said she to him, “would you go into Egypt on the faith of an illusive dream?” “Why not, madam,” answered Zeyn, “do you imagine all dreams are chimerical?  No, no, some of them are mysterious.  My preceptors have told me a thousand incidents, which will not permit me to doubt of it.  Besides, though I were not otherwise convinced, I could not forbear giving some credit to my dreams.  The old man who appeared to me had something supernatural, he was not one of those men whom nothing but age makes venerable; there appeared a divine air about his person.  In short, he was such a one as our great prophet is represented; and if you will have me tell you what I think, I believe it was he, who, pitying my affliction, designs to relieve it.  I rely on the confidence he has inspired me with.  I am full of his promises, and have resolved to follow his advice.”  The queen endeavoured to dissuade him, but in vain.  The sultan committed to her the government of the kingdom, set out one night very privately from his palace, and took the road to Cairo, without suffering any person to attend him.

After much trouble and fatigue, he arrived at that famous city, like which there are few in the world, either for extent or beauty.  He alighted at the gate of a mosque, where, being spent with weariness, he lay down.  No sooner was he fallen asleep, than he saw the same old man, who said to him, “I am pleased with you, my son, you have given credit to my words.  You are come hither, without being deterred by the length or the difficulties of the way:  but know I have not put you upon undertaking such a long journey, with any other design than to try you.  I find you have courage and resolution.  You deserve I should make you the richest and happiest prince in the world.  Return to Bussorah, and you shall find immense wealth in your palace.  No king ever possessed so rich a treasure.”

The sultan was not pleased with this dream.  “Alas!” thought he to himself, when he awoke, “how much was I mistaken?  That old man, whom I took for our prophet, is no other than the production of my disturbed imagination.  My fancy was so full of him, that it is no wonder I have seen him again.  I had best return to Bussorah; what should I do here any longer?  It is fortunate that I told none but my mother the motive of my journey:  I should become a jest to my people, if they knew it.”

Accordingly, he set out again for his kingdom, and as soon as he arrived there, the queen asked him, whether he returned well pleased?  He told her all that had happened, and was so much concerned for having been so credulous, that the queen, instead of adding to his vexation, by reproving or laughing at him, comforted him.  “Forbear afflicting yourself, my son,” said she; “if God has appointed you riches, you will have them without any trouble.  Be contented; all that I recommend to you is, to be virtuous; renounce the delights of dancing, music, and wine:  shun all these pleasures, they have already almost ruined you; apply yourself to make your subjects happy; by securing their happiness, you will establish your own.”