The Book of Delight, and Other Papers | Page 9

summoned the woman secretly. She came, and
the king praised her beauty and her wisdom. His heart, he said, was
burning with love for her, but he could not wed another man's wife.
"Slay thy husband to-night, and tomorrow be my queen." With a smile,
the woman consented; and the king gave her a sword made of tin, for
he knew the weak mind of woman. "Strike once," he said to her; "the
sword is sharp; you need not essay a second blow." She gave her
husband a choice repast, and wine to make him drunken. As he lay
asleep, she grasped the sword and struck him on the head; and the tin

bent, and he awoke. With some ado she quieted him, and he fell asleep
again. Next morning the king summoned her, and asked whether she
had obeyed his orders. "Yes," said she, "but thou didst frustrate thine
own counsel." Then the king assembled his sages, and bade her tell all
that she had attempted; and the husband, too, was fetched, to tell his
story. "Did I not tell you to cease your praises of women?" asked the
king, triumphantly.
IN DISPRAISE OF WOMAN
The fox follows up these effective narratives with a lengthy string of
well-worn quotations against women, of which the following are a few:
Socrates, the wise and saintly, hated and despised them. His wife was
thin and short. They asked him, "How could a man like you choose
such a woman for your wrife?" "I chose," said Socrates, "of the evil the
least possible amount." "Why, then, do you look on beautiful women?"
"Neither," said Socrates, "from love nor from desire, but to admire the
handiwork of God in their outward form. It is within that they are foul."
Once he was walking by the way, and he saw a woman hanging from a
fig-tree. "Would," said Socrates, "that all the fruit were like this."--A
nobleman built a new house, and wrote over the door, "Let nothing evil
pass this way." "Then how does his wife go in?" asked
Diogenes.--"Your enemy is dead," said one to another. "I would rather
hear that he had got married," was the reply.
"So much," said the fox to the leopard, "I have told thee that thou
mayest know how little women are to be trusted. They deceive men in
life, and betray them in death." "But," queried the leopard, "what could
my wife do to harm me after I am dead?" "Listen," rejoined the fox,
"and I will tell thee of a deed viler than any I have narrated hitherto."
THE WIDOW AND HER HUSBAND'S CORPSE
The kings of Rome, when they hanged a man, denied him burial until
the tenth day. That the friends and relatives of the victim might not
steal the body, an officer of high rank was set to watch the tree by night.
If the body was stolen, the officer was hung up in its place. A knight of
high degree once rebelled against the king, and he was hanged on a tree.

The officer on guard was startled at midnight to hear a piercing shriek
of anguish from a little distance; he mounted his horse, and rode
towards the voice, to discover the meaning. He came to an open grave,
where the common people were buried, and saw a weeping woman
loud in laments for her departed spouse. He sent her home with words
of comfort, accompanying her to the city gate. He then returned to his
post. Next night the same scene was repeated, and as the officer spoke
his gentle soothings to her, a love for him was born in her heart, and
her dead husband was forgotten. And as they spoke words of love, they
neared the tree, and lo! the body that the officer was set to watch was
gone. "Begone," he said, "and I will fly, or my life must pay the penalty
of my dalliance." "Fear not, my lord," she said, "we can raise my
husband from his grave and hang him instead of the stolen corpse."
"But I fear the Prince of Death. I cannot drag a man from his grave." "I
alone will do it then," said the woman; "I will dig him out; it is lawful
to cast a dead man from the grave, to keep a live man from being
thrown in." "Alas!" cried the officer, when she had done the fearsome
deed, "the corpse I watched was bald, your husband has thick hair; the
change will be detected." "Nay," said the woman, "I will make him
bald," and she tore his hair out, with execrations, and they hung him on
the tree. But a few days passed and the pair were married.
And now the leopard interlude nears it close. Zabara narrates