“I beg of your majesty,” answered Alla ad Deen, “to grant me forty days to make my inquiries; and if in that time I have not the success I wish, I will offer my head at the foot of your throne, to be disposed of at your pleasure.”  “I give you the forty days you ask,” said the sultan; “but think not to abuse the favour I shew you, by imagining you shall escape my resentment; for I will find you out in whatsoever part of the world you may conceal yourself.”

Alla ad Deen went out of the sultan’s presence with great humiliation, and in a condition worthy of pity.  He crossed the courts of the palace, hanging down his head, and in such great confusion, that he durst not lift up his eyes.  The principal officers of the court, who had all professed themselves his friends, and whom he had never disobliged, instead of going up to him to comfort him, and offer him a retreat in their houses, turned their backs to avoid seeing him.  But had they accosted him with a word of comfort or offer of service, they would have no more known Alla ad Deen.  He did not know himself, and was no longer in his senses, as plainly appeared by his asking everybody he met, and at every house, if they had seen his palace, or could tell him any news of it.

These questions made the generality believe that Alla ad Deen was mad.  Some laughed at him, but people of sense and humanity, particularly those who had had any connection of business or friendship with him, really pitied him.  For three days he rambled about the city in this manner, without coming to any resolution, or eating anything but what some compassionate people forced him to take out of charity.

At last, as he could no longer in his unhappy condition stay in a city where he had lately been next to the sultan, he took the road to the country; and after he had traversed several fields in wild uncertainty, at the approach of night came to the bank of a river.  There, possessed by his despair, he said to himself, “Where shall I seek my palace?  In what province, country, or part of the world, shall I find that and my dear princess, whom the sultan expects from me?  I shall never succeed; I had better free myself at once from fruitless endeavours, and such bitter grief as preys upon me.”  He was just going to throw himself into the river, but, as a good Moosulmaun, true to his religion, he thought he should not do it without first saying his prayers.  Going to prepare himself, he went to the river’s brink, in order to perform the usual ablutions.  The place being steep and slippery, from the water beating against it, he slid down, and had certainly fallen into the river, but for a little rock which projected about two feet out of the earth.  Happily also for him he still had on the ring which the African magician had put on his finger before he went down into the subterraneous abode to fetch the precious lamp.  In slipping down the bank he rubbed the ring so hard by holding on the rock, that immediately the same genie appeared whom he had seen in the cave where the magician had left him.  “What wouldst thou have?” said the genie.  “I am ready to obey thee as thy slave, and the slave of all those that have that ring on their finger; both I and the other slaves of the ring.”