An Egyptian Fairytale

Source: Andrew Lang´s Fairy Books

Egyptian Fairytale: The Stroy of the Sham Prince

The ambitious Tailor

, who worked for a clever master in Alexandria. No one could call Labakan either stupid or lazy, for he could work extremely well and quickly—when he chose; but there was something not altogether right about him.

nce upon a time, there lived a respectable young tailor called Labakan.

if his master happened to say to him, as he sometimes did, ‘Really, Labakan, you look like a prince,’ he was delighted, and would answer, ‘Have you noticed it too?’ or ‘Well, so I have long thought.’

On Fridays he would put on his fine robe which he had bought with the money he had managed to save up, and go to the mosque.

One day, the sultan’s brother happened to be passing through Alexandria, and wanted to have one of his state robes altered, so he sent for the master tailor, who handed the robe over to Labakan as his best workman.

However, he soon found out that walking made him ridiculous, so at last he bought a quiet, steady old horse, which he managed to get cheap.

The new prince excited a good deal of curiosity where ever he went, for his splendid robe and majestic manner did not seem quite suitable to a person travelling on foot.

‘Am not I as good a prince as any other?’ he asked himself, as he proudly paced up and down the room. ‘Has not the master often said that I seemed born to be a prince?’

The newcomer was a bright, cheerful, good-looking young man, who soon plunged into conversation and asked many questions.

One day, as he was ambling along upon Murva (that was the horse’s name), a horseman overtook him and asked leave to join him, so that they might both beguile the journey with pleasant talk.

Labakan was greatly surprised and interested by this story, but after hearing it he could not help looking on Prince Omar with envious eyes, angry that his friend should have the position he himself longed so much for.

lfi Bey, Pacha of Cairo, had brought up Omar from his earliest childhood, and the boy had never known his parents. On his deathbed Elfi Bey called Omar to him, and then told him that he was not his nephew, but the son of a great king, who, having been warned of coming dangers by his astrologers, had sent the young prince away and made a vow not to see him till his twenty-second birthday.

The dagger which was to act as a passport was sticking in Omar’s girdle. Labakan drew it gently out, and hesitated for a moment whether or not to plunge it into the heart of the sleeping prince.

the thought that he must certainly have been born to be a king supported him, and he bravely rode on.

Everything looked like the escort of some great man. ...but he checked his impatience, knowing that only on the fourth day could his wishes be fulfilled.

Towards the middle of the next day he saw a long procession of horses and camels coming towards him.

At the foot of the pillar stood six men round a tall and stately person. His superb robe of cloth of gold was girt round him by a white cashmere shawl, and his white, richly jewelled turban showed that he was a man of wealth and high rank.

The first rays of the rising sun woke the happy tailor. As he began to saddle his horse and prepare to ride to the pillar

But his happiness was not long unclouded. As he raised his head he saw a horseman who seemed trying to urge a tired or unwilling horse across the plain.

Labakan went straight up to him, and, bending low, handed him the dagger, saying: “Here am I whom you seek.” “Praised be the Prophet who has preserved you! replied the old man with tears of joy. “Embrace me, my dear son Omar!” The proud tailor was deeply moved by these solemn words, and with mingled shame and joy sank into the old king”s arms.