ABSTRACT
IT is related, O auspicious King, that there lived in Baghdad, during the reign of the Khalifah Harun al-Rashid, a poor man called Sindbad the Porter, who earned his living by carrying loads upon his head. One day, as he was sweating and staggering in the great heat under a more than usually heavy burden, he passed the door of a house which seemed to him to belong to some rich merchant, as the ground about it was well swept and refreshed with rose-water. The breeze blew soft and cool there and a bench stood near the door for tired wayfarers, so Sindbad set his load upon the ground and sat down on the bench to breathe the scented air. He heard the concerted playing and singing of lutes and voices skilled in the craft of song, and the mingled jargonning of doves, nightingales, blackbirds, bulbuls, pigeons and tame partridges, praising Allah in sweet modes. He marvelled in his soul and, for very pleasure, passed his head through the opening of the door; then he saw a great garden, filled with a press of slaves, servants and guests, and furnished as only are furnished the gardens of kings.
