The Anklet

Sheherazade told stories night after night: all the voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, and the adventures of Land Abdullah and Sea Abdullah, the fate of the man who stole the dog’s golden dish, the story of the ruined man who became rich again through a dream. And one night she told the story of

The Anklet

***

It is said, O King, that there were once in a city three sisters, who lived together and earned their bread by spinning flax. The youngest was also the prettiest, radiant and graceful as the moon. Her elder sisters, who were born to a different mother, hated and envied her, both for her beauty and for her skill at spinning.

One day the youngest went to the market, and, finding herself with a small coin left over, bought a little clay pot to hold flowers.

“You silly girl,” shrieked the sisters. “We can’t waste our money on fancies and fripperies.”

She made no answer, but placed a single rose in the pot, and sat down to her spinning.

The days passed, in drudgery and silent toil. The two older sisters kept nagging the poor girl and making fun of her. Her only pleasure in life was to fill the little pot with flowers, which she could look at and smell as she worked.

Now one day the sisters were out, and the girl, alone with her thoughts, burst into tears. “Oh, little pot,” she said, “you are my only friend. My sisters have gone out and left me to work all by myself, without anything to eat.” 

And the little pot heard her, and brought forth sweetmeats for her to eat. For there was a jinni in the pot, and whatever the mistress of the pot asked for, the jinni would provide.

The girl kept the secret of the pot from her sisters, but whenever they were out, she would ask for whatever she fancied. She would eat and drink her fill, and dress up in beautiful clothes; but when her sisters came home, she was always careful to be back in her rags and hard at work at her spinning wheel.

Now it happened that the king announced that he was going to hold a great feast for all the people of the city. Everyone was invited, even the three poor sisters.

The two older sisters dressed up in their threadbare best, and set out for the feast. “You can’t come,” they said. “You would shame us in those rags. You’re not fit for such fine company.”

But as soon as they were gone, the girl asked her pot for a beautiful green robe and scarves and garments of the finest silk. She asked, too, for sparkling rings and turquoise bracelets, and gold anklets studded with diamonds to wear around her slender ankles.

When she entered the king’s harem, where the women’s part of the entertainments was being held, everyone there gasped at her beauty, and at the richness of her magic clothes and jewels. Even her sisters were moved to tears at her grace and charm, and never guessed that this lovely princess was their own despised sister.

The girl slipped away before the end of the feast, so as to be home first. She took off the diamond anklets in order to be able to run faster, and in her haste she did not notice that she dropped one. It fell into the water trough where the king’s horses drank.

Next morning the horses refused to drink, shying away from the trough in terror, for the anklet shone and flared beneath the water, frightening them.

The groom took the jewel to the king’s son. He turned it around and around in his hands, saying nothing. Finally he declared, “The girl whom this anklet fits shall be my wife!”

He took the anklet to his mother. “Mother,” he said, “you know about such things. Please find the girl to whom this anklet belongs. I am in love with her already, and long to see the anklet gracing her slim, shapely ankle.”

So the queen organized a search of the whole city. She visited all the harems, and all the houses, but no one had an ankle slim enough to wear the anklet. Finally she went into the very poorest quarter, to the house of the three sisters. The two older sisters tried in vain to force the anklet on, but when the queen tried it on the youngest, it fitted perfectly. The search was over.

The queen led the girl back to the palace. The celebrations went on for forty days and forty nights, while the wedding was prepared. At last, the day arrived, and the bride was taken to the baths by her sisters, who were to dress her.

The older girls had worried away at the poor, trusting girl until they had wheedled the secret of the magic pot from her and they, too, had made requests of the jinni. They dressed her hair with the diamond pins the jinni provided, and as the last pin went into place, the girl was turned into a white dove, which flew out the window in panic. She had been transformed by the magic pins.

When the queen asked where the bride was, the sisters just said, “She has gone.”

The prince sent out search parties to scour the city for his bride, but she was nowhere to be found. Without her, he began to sicken and waste away.

Every day, at dawn and at dusk, the white dove came to the prince’s window, and cooed to him in his misery. The prince grew to love the bird, which seemed to be the only creature that could sooth his lonely heart. Once a day he reached out to touch her and, seeing she did not fly away, took her in his hand.

The dove cooed at the prince, and he began to smooth her feathers. Noticing something hard beneath them, he scratched the place, and out fell a diamond pin. He pulled out another, and another. And when the last pin was gone, the dove ruffled her feathers and shook herself back into her true shape, his bride once more.

The prince and his love lived many years in happiness, blessed by children as beautiful and kind as themselves. But the two sisters died of jealousy, poisoned by their own spite.