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A stranger appears, who, not knowing the law of the festival, transgresses it grossly, is accused, and finally conducted into the immediate presence of Smaragdine, who puts to him the usual questions. "My name," replies the stranger, "is Resim, and I am a poor dervish." "Bring my Romla tablet and my steel pen," cries the King.

The King sent for the tablet Romla and the steel pen. "You have said the truth," says the King; "and I perceive that Heaven designs ere long to restore to you your lost love." With this she commanded them to lead Alischar to the bath, to clothe him in a robe of honour, and treat him in her palace with all respect and consideration.

I am by profession a gardener, and have come hither to seek for certain rare trees and flowers." "Holla, there!" cries the King, "bring hither quickly my tablet Romla and the steel pen, and speedily will the truth see daylight." With this, Smaragdine began to study the tablet attentively: she kept her eyes for some moments fixed upon the sky, and then said, "Hateful churl, thou liest!

Confess the truth, or thy head flies from thy shoulders upon the spot!" "Pardon! pardon!" cried the stranger, altogether astonished; for he never doubted that the secret virtue of the Romla had detected him: "pardon, great King! It is true I am a Giaour."

"Well, well," says Smaragdine, "bring quickly hither my necromantic tablet Romla, and the steel pen that belongs to it, and soon shall the truth be made manifest." With that she began, apparently, her calculation, cast her eyes upwards, and after a pause of some moments, said, "Dog, thou liest! Thou art a Giaour, and thou hast come hither with some wicked intention.