ll me your history and
how you came to be shut up in that vase."
At this, the genius looked at the fisherman haughtily. "Speak to me
more civilly," he said, "before I kill you."
"Alas! why should you kill me?" cried the fisherman. "I have just
freed you; have you already forgotten that?"
"No," answered the genius; "but that will not prevent me from killing
you; and I am only going to grant you one favour, and that is to choose
the manner of your death."
"But what have I done to you?" asked the fisherman.
"I cannot treat you in any other way," said the genius, "and if you
would know why, listen to my story.
"I rebelled against the king of the genii. To punish me, he shut me up
in this vase of copper, and he put on the leaden cover his seal, which
is enchantment enough to prevent my coming out. Then he had the vase
thrown into the sea. During the first period of my captivity I vowed
that if anyone should free me before a hundred years were passed, I
would make him rich even after his death. But that century passed, and
no one freed me. In the second century I vowed that I would give all
the treasures in the world to my deliverer; but he never came.
"In the third, I promised to make him a king, to be always near him,
and to grant him three wishes every day; but that century passed away
as the other two had done, and I remained in the same plight. At last
I grew angry at being captive for so long, and I vowed that if anyone
would release me I would kill him at once, and would only allow him to
choose in what manner he should die. So you see, as you have freed me
to-day, choose in what way you will die."
The fisherman was very unhappy. "What an unlucky man I am to have
freed you! I implore you to spare my life."
"I have told you," said the genius, "that it is impossible. Choose
quickly; you are wasting time."
The fisherman began to devise a plot.
"Since I must die," he said, "before I choose the manner of my death, I
conjure you on your honour to tell me if you really were in that vase?"
"Yes, I was," answered the genius.
"I really cannot believe it," said the fisherman. "That vase could not
contain one of your feet even, and how could your whole body go in? I
cannot believe it unless I see you do the thing."
Then the genius began to change himself into smoke, which, as before,
spread over the sea and the shore, and which, then collecting itself
together, began to go back into the
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