Murad the Unlucky

CHAPTER I

It is well known that the grand seignior amuses himself by going at
night, in disguise, through streets of Constantinople; as the caliph
Haroun Alraschid used formerly to do in Bagdad.

One moonlight night, accompanied by his grand vizier, he traversed
several of the principal streets of the city without seeing anything
remarkable. At length, as they were passing a rope-maker's, the sultan
recollected the Arabian story of Cogia-Hassan Alhabal, the rope-maker,
and his two friends, Saad and Saadi, who differed so much in their
opinion concerning the influence of fortune over human affairs.

"What is your opinion on this subject?" said the grand seignior to his
vizier.

"I am inclined, please your majesty," replied the vizier, "to think that
success in the world depends more upon prudence than upon what is called
luck, or fortune."

"And I," said the sultan, "am persuaded that fortune does more for men
than prudence. Do you not every day hear of persons who are said to be
fortunate or unfortunate? How comes it that this opinion should prevail
amongst men, if it be not justified by experience?"

"It is not for me to dispute with your majesty," replied the prudent
vizier.

"Speak your mind freely; I desire and command it," said the sultan.

"Then I am of opinion," answered the vizier, "that people are often led
to believe others fortunate, or unfortunate, merely because they only
know the general outline of their histories; and are ignorant of the
incidents and events in which they have shown prudence or imprudence. I
have heard, for instance, that there are at present, in this city, two
men, who are remarkable for their good and bad fortune: one is called
Murad the Unlucky, and the other Saladin the Lucky. Now, I am inclined
to think, if we could hear their stories, we should find that one is a
prudent and the other an imprudent character."

"Where do these men live?" interrupted the sultan. "I will hear their
histories from their own lips before I sleep."

"Murad the Unlucky lives in the next square," said the vizier.

The sultan desired to go thither immediately. Scarcely had they entered
the square, when they heard the cry of loud lamentations. They followed
the sound till they came to a house of which the door was open, and where
there was a man tearing his turban, and weeping bitterly. They asked the
cause of his distress, and he pointed to the fragments of a china vase,
which lay on the pavement at his door.

"This seems undoubtedly to be beautiful china," said the sultan, taking
up one of the broken pieces;