3- Old Man and the Hind

I shall begin my story then; listen to me, I pray you, with
attention. This hind you see is my cousin; nay, what is more, my
wife. She was only twelve years of age when I married her, so
that I may justly say, she ought to regard me equally as her
father, her kinsman, and her husband.

We lived together twenty years, without any children. Her
barrenness did not effect any change in my love; I still treated
her with much kindness and affection. My desire of having
children only induced me to purchase a slave, by whom I had a
son, who was extremely promising. My wife being jealous,
cherished a hatred for both mother and child, but concealed her
aversion so well, that I knew nothing of it till it was too late.

Mean time my son grew up, and was ten years old, when I was
obliged to undertake a long journey. Before I went, I recommended
to my wife, of whom I had no mistrust, the slave and her son, and
prayed her to take care of them during my absence, which was to
be for a whole year. She however employed that time to satisfy
her hatred. She applied herself to magic, and when she had learnt
enough of that diabolical art to execute her horrible design, the
wretch carried my son to a desolate place, where, by her
enchantments, she changed him into a calf, and gave him to my
farmer to fatten, pretending she had bought him. Her enmity did
not stop at this abominable action, but she likewise changed the
slave into a cow, and gave her also to my farmer.

At my return, I enquired for the mother and child. "Your slave,"
said she, "is dead; and as for your son, I know not what is
become of him, I have not seen him this two months." I was
afflicted at the death of the slave, but as she informed me my
son had only disappeared, I was in hopes he would shortly return.
However, eight months passed, and I heard nothing of him. When
the festival of the great Bairam was to be celebrated, I sent to
my farmer for one of the fattest cows to sacrifice. He
accordingly sent me one, and the cow which was brought me proved
to be my slave, the unfortunate mother of my son. I bound her,
but as I was going to sacrifice her, she bellowed piteously, and
I could perceive tears streaming from her eyes. This seemed to me
very extraordinary, and finding myself moved with compassion, I
could not find in my heart to give her a blow, but ordered my
farmer to get me another.

My wife, who was present, was enraged at my tenderness, and
resisting an order which disappointed her malice, she cried out,
"What are you doing, husband? Sacrifice that cow; your farmer has
not a finer, nor one fitter for the festival." Out of deference
to my wife, I came again to the cow, and combating my