What could Cassim’s widow do better than accept of this proposal?  For though her first husband had left behind him a plentiful substance, his brother was now much richer, and by the discovery of this treasure might be still more so.  Instead, therefore, of rejecting the offer, she regarded it as the sure means of comfort; and drying up her tears, which had begun to flow abundantly, and suppressing the outcries usual with women who have lost their husbands, shewed Ali Baba that she approved of his proposal.  Ali Baba left the widow, recommended to Morgiana to act her part well, and then returned home with his ass.

Morgiana went out at the same time to an apothecary, and asked for a sort of lozenges, which he prepared, and were very efficacious in the most dangerous disorders.  The apothecary inquired who was ill at her master’s?  She replied with a sigh, “Her good master Cassim himself:  that they knew not what his disorder was, but that he could neither eat nor speak.”  After these words, Morgiana carried the lozenges home with her, and the next morning went to the same apothecary’s again, and with tears in her eyes, asked for an essence which they used to give to sick people only when at the last extremity.  “Alas!” said she, taking it from the apothecary, “I am afraid that this remedy will have no better effect than the lozenges; and that I shall lose my good master.”

On the other hand, as Ali Baba and his wife were often seen to go between Cassim’s and their own house all that day, and to seem melancholy, nobody was surprised in the evening to hear the lamentable shrieks and cries of Cassim’s wife and Morgiana, who gave out every where that her master was dead.

The next morning, soon after day appeared, Morgiana, who knew a certain old cobbler that opened his stall early, before other people, went to him, and bidding him good morrow, put a piece of gold into his hand.  “Well,” said Baba Mustapha, which was his name, and who was a merry old fellow, looking at the gold, though it was hardly day-light, and seeing what it was, “this is good hansel:  what must I do for it?  I am ready.”

“Baba Mustapha,” said Morgiana, “you must take with you your sewing tackle, and go with me; but I must tell you, I shall blindfold you when you come to such a place.”

Baba Mustapha seemed to hesitate a little at these words.  “Oh! oh!” replied he, “you would have me do something against my conscience, or against my honour?” “God forbid!” said Morgiana, putting another piece of gold into his hand, “that I should ask any thing that is contrary to your honour; only come along with me, and fear nothing.”

Baba Mustapha went with Morgiana, who, after she had bound his eyes with a handkerchief at the place she had mentioned, conveyed him to her deceased master’s house, and never unloosed his eyes till he had entered the room where she had put the corpse together.  “Baba Mustapha,” said she, “you must make haste and sew these quarters together; and when you have done, I will give you another piece of gold.”