When night was come, and the Sun, desiring to sleep on the banks of the river of India untroubled by gnats, had put out the light, the Slave said to Parmetella, "My dear, now go to rest in this bed; but remember first to put out the candle, and mind what I say, or ill will betide you." Then Parmetella did as he told her; but no sooner had she closed her eyes, than the blackamoor, changing to a handsome youth, lay down to sleep. But the next morning, ere the Dawn went forth to seek fresh eggs in the fields of the sky, the youth arose and took his other form again, leaving Parmetella full of wonder and curiosity.
And again the following night, when Parmetella went to rest, she put out the candle as she had done the night before, and the youth came as usual and lay down to sleep. But no sooner had he shut his eyes, than Parmetella arose, took a steel which she had provided, and lighting the tinder applied a match: then taking the candle, she raised the coverlet, and beheld the ebony turned to ivory, the caviar to milk and cream, and the coal to chalk. And whilst she stood gazing with open mouth, and contemplating the most beautiful pencilling that Nature had ever given upon the canvas of Wonder, the youth awoke, and began to reproach Parmetella, saying, "Ah, woe is me! for your prying curiosity I have to suffer another seven years this accursed
