He took the young man by the hand and led him into a third room – vaulted as the other two had been, lit as they had been by a carbuncle in the roof above. But when the young man’s eyes saw what was in this third room, he was like a man turned drunk with wonder. He had to lean against the wall behind him, for the sight made him dizzy.
In the middle of the room was such a basin as he had seen in the two other rooms, only it was filled with jewels – diamonds and rubies and emeralds and sapphires and precious stones of all kinds – that sparkled and blazed and flamed like a million stars. Around the wall, and facing the basin from all sides, stood six golden statues. Three of them were statues of the kings and three of them were statues of the queens who had gathered together all this vast and measureless wealth of ancient Egypt.
There was space for a seventh statue, but where it should have stood was a great arched door of adamant. The door was tight shut, and there was neither lock nor key to it. Upon the door were written these words in letters of flame:
“Behold! beyond this door is that alone which shall satisfy all thy desires.”
“Tell me, Zadok,” said the young man, after he had filled his soul with all the other wonders that surrounded him – “tell me what is there that lies beyond that door?”
“That I am forbidden to tell thee, O master!” said the King of the Demons of the Earth.
“Then open the door for me,” said the young man; “for I cannot open it for myself, as there is neither lock nor key to it.”
“That also I am forbidden to do,” said Zadok.
“I wish that I knew what was there,” said the young man.
The Demon laughed. “Some time,” said he, “thou mayest find for thyself. Come, let us leave here and go to the palace which thy father built years ago, and which he left behind him when he quitted this place for the place in which thou knewest him.”
He led the way and the young man followed; they passed through the vaulted rooms and out through the door of adamant, and Zadok locked it behind them and gave the key to the young man.
“All this is thine now,” he said; “I give it to thee as I gave it to thy father. I have shown thee how to enter, and thou mayst go in whenever it pleases thee to do so.”
They ascended the steps, and so reached the garden above. Then Zadok struck his heel upon the ground, and the earth closed as it had opened. He led the young man from the spot until they had come to a wide avenue that led to the palace beyond. “Here I leave thee,” said the Demon, “but if ever thou hast need of me, call and I will come.”
Thereupon he vanished like a flash, leaving the young man standing like one in a dream.
He saw before him a garden of such splendor and magnificence as he had never dreamed of even in his wildest fancy. There were seven fountains as clear as crystal that shot high into the air and fell back into basins of alabaster. There was a broad avenue as white as snow, and thousands of lights lit up everything as light as day. Upon either side of the avenue stood a row of black slaves, clad in garments of white silk, and with jewelled turbans upon their heads. Each held a flaming torch of sandal-wood. Behind the slaves stood a double row of armed men, and behind them a great crowd of other slaves and attendants, dressed each as magnificently as a prince, blazing and flaming with innumerable jewels and ornaments of gold.
But of all these things the young man thought nothing and saw nothing; for at the end of the marble avenue there arose a palace, the like of which was not in the four quarters of the earth – a palace of marble and gold and carmine and ultramarine – rising into the purple starry sky, and shining in the moonlight like a vision of Paradise. The palace was illuminated from top to bottom and from end to end; the windows shone like crystal, and from it came sounds of music and rejoicing.
When the crowd that stood waiting saw the young man appear, they shouted: “Welcome! welcome! to the master who has come again! To Aben Hassen the Fool!”
The young man walked up the avenue of marble to the palace, surrounded by the armed attendants in their dresses of jewels and gold, and preceded by dancing-girls as beautiful as houris, who danced and sung before him. He was dizzy with joy. “All – all this,” he exulted, “belongs to me. And to think that if I had listened to the Talisman of Solomon I would have had none of it.”
That was the way he came back to the treasure of the ancient kings of Egypt, and to the palace of enchantment that his father had quitted.
For seven months he lived a life of joy and delight, surrounded by crowds of courtiers as though he were a king, and going from pleasure to pleasure without end. Nor had he any fear of an end coming to it, for he knew that his treasure was inexhaustible. He made friends with the princes and nobles of the land. From far and wide people came to visit him, and the renown of his magnificence filled all the world. When men would praise any one they would say, “He is as rich,” or as “magnificent,” or as “generous, as Aben Hassen the Fool.”
So for seven months he lived a life of joy and delight; then one morning he awakened and found everything changed to grief and mourning. Where the day before had been laughter, to-day was crying. Where the day before had been mirth, to-day was lamentation. All the city was shrouded in gloom, and everywhere was weeping and crying.
Seven black slaves stood on guard near Aben Hassen the Fool as he lay upon his couch. “What means all this sorrow?” said he to one of the slaves.
Instantly all the slaves began howling and beating their heads, and he to whom the young man had spoken fell down with his face in the dust, and lay there twisting and writhing like a worm.
“He has asked the question!” howled the slaves – “he has asked the question!”
“Are you mad?” cried the young man. “What is the matter with you?”
At the doorway of the room stood a beautiful female slave, bearing in her hands a jewelled basin of gold, filled with rose-water, and a fine linen napkin for the young man to wash and dry his hands upon. “Tell me,” said the young man, “what means all this sorrow and lamentation?”
Instantly the beautiful slave dropped the golden basin upon the stone floor, and began shrieking and tearing her clothes. “He has asked the question!” she screamed – “he has asked the question!”
The young man began to grow frightened; he arose from his couch, and with uneven steps went out into the anteroom. There he found his chamberlain waiting for him with a crowd of attendants and courtiers. “Tell me,” said Aben Hassen the Fool, “why are you all so sorrowful?”
Instantly they who stood waiting began crying and tearing their clothes and beating their hands. As for the chamberlain – he was a reverend old man – his eyes sparkled with anger, and his fingers twitched as though he would have struck if he had dared. “What,” he cried, “art thou not contented with all thou hast and with all that we do for thee without asking the forbidden question?”
Thereupon he tore his cap from his head and flung it upon the ground, and began beating himself violently upon the head with great outcrying.
Aben Hassen the Fool, not knowing what to think or what was to happen, ran back into the bedroom again. “I think everybody in this place has gone mad,” said he. “Nevertheless, if I do not find out what it all means, I shall go mad myself.”
Then he bethought himself, for the first time since he came to that land, of the Talisman of Solomon.
“Tell me, O Talisman,” said he, “why all these people weep and wail so continuously?”
“Rest content,” said the Talisman of Solomon, “with knowing that which concerns thine own self,