"Behold," cried the astrologer, "my promised reward; the first
animal with its burden which should enter the magic gateway."
Aben Habuz smiled at what he considered a pleasantry of the
ancient man; but when he found him to be in earnest, his gray beard
trembled with indignation.
"Son of Abu Ayub," said he, sternly, "what equivocation is this?
Thou knowest the meaning of my promise: the first beast of burden,
with its load, that should enter this portal. Take the strongest
mule in my stables, load it with the most precious things of my
treasury, and it is thine; but dare not raise thy thoughts to her
who is the delight of my heart."
"What need I of wealth," cried the astrologer, scornfully; "have I
not the book of knowledge of Solomon the wise, and through it the
command of the secret treasures of the earth? The princess is mine
by right; thy royal word is pledged: I claim her as my own."
The princess looked down haughtily from her palfrey, and a light
smile of scorn curled her rosy lip at this dispute between two
gray-beards, for the possession of youth and beauty. The wrath of
the monarch got the better of his discretion. "Base son of the
desert," cried he, "thou may'st be master of many arts, but know me
for thy master, and presume not to juggle with thy king."
"My master! my king!" echoed the astrologer. "The monarch of a
molehill to claim sway over him who possesses the talismans of
Solomon! Farewell, Aben Habuz; reign over thy petty kingdom, and revel
in thy paradise of fools; for me, I will laugh at thee in my
philosophic retirement.
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