One night, the Caliph Harun al-Rashid summoned his vizier Ja'afar and said:
"I want to go down into the city in disguise. I wish to hear what the common people truly think about those who rule them. Those whom the people complain about, we will remove from office. Those they praise, we will reward."
Ja'afar bowed and said,"Hearkening and obedience."
So the Caliph, Ja'afar, and the eunuch Masrur went down into Baghdad, walking through the streets and markets in secret. As they passed through a narrow alley, they saw a very old fisherman walking slowly. He carried a fishing net and a basket for fish on his head, and he leaned on a staff as he walked.
The Caliph stopped him and asked,"O old man, what do you do for a living?"
The fisherman replied sadly,"My lord, I am a fisherman with a family to feed. I have been fishing since noon and I have caught nothing. I do not even have money to buy them supper. I hate my life and wish for death."
The Caliph felt pity for him and said,"Come with us back to the river. Cast your net one more time. Whatever you catch, I will buy it for one hundred gold coins."
The old man could hardly believe his ears."I will gladly do so," he said.
They all went to the bank of the Tigris River. The fisherman cast his net into the water and waited. After a short time, he pulled it up. Something heavy was caught inside.
When the net came out of the water, they saw a locked chest inside it.
The Caliph lifted the chest and found it very heavy. He paid the fisherman two hundred gold dinars and sent him away.
Masrur and the Caliph carried the chest back to the palace. Candles were lit. Ja'afar and Masrur opened the chest.
Inside was a basket tied with red thread. Inside the basket was a piece of carpet. Inside the carpet was a folded woman's cloak. When they unfolded it, they found a young woman, beautiful as silver — cut into nineteen pieces.
The Caliph cried out in grief. Tears ran down his face.
"How can a woman be murdered in my kingdom and thrown into the river?" he said."By God, we must find her killer and punish him with the worst death!"
Then he turned furiously to Ja'afar.
"If you do not bring me the murderer within three days, I will hang you and forty of your relatives at the palace gate."
Ja'afar begged for three days, and the Caliph granted it.
Ja'afar returned home in despair."How can I find a murderer I know nothing about?" he said to himself.
For three days he searched but found nothing. On the fourth day, the Caliph summoned him.
"Where is the murderer?" the Caliph demanded.
Ja'afar answered helplessly,"How could I know? I am not a judge of murders."
The Caliph became furious and ordered Ja'afar and forty of his family members to be hanged.
A public announcement was made, and the people of Baghdad came out in crowds, weeping for Ja'afar and his family.
As they stood beneath the gallows, something unexpected happened.
A handsome young man forced his way through the crowd and cried:
"I am the one who killed the woman. Hang me instead!"
Before anyone could speak, an old man rushed forward and said:
"No! I killed her! Take my life!"
Both men insisted. Ja'afar was stunned.
He took both men before the Caliph.
The Caliph sat on his throne, looking at the two men who stood before him — the young man and the old man.
"Which of you killed the woman?" he demanded.
The young man answered firmly,"I did."
The old man said just as strongly,"No — I did."
The Caliph turned to Ja'afar and said,"Hang them both."
But Ja'afar protested,"One of them must be innocent. It would be unjust to kill them both."
The young man swore by God and then described every detail of the murder — the chest, the carpet, the cloak, and how the body was hidden. When the Caliph heard this, he knew the young man was telling the truth.
He asked him,"Why did you kill her? Why do you now confess without being tortured?"
The young man bowed his head and began to speak.
"O Commander of the Faithful," he said,"that woman was my wife, my cousin, and the mother of my three children. She was kind and loyal, and I loved her deeply.
One day she fell gravely ill. Doctors were brought, but she grew weaker. She said to me:
'Before I go to the bath, I crave one thing — an apple. I want to smell it and taste it.'
I searched the city, but no apples could be found. Finally I learned that only the Caliph's gardens in Basra had them. So I traveled fifteen days, going and returning, and bought three apples for her.
But when I brought them home, she was too sick to enjoy them. They lay beside her.
Ten days later she began to recover. I went back to my shop.
That afternoon, I saw a black slave walking by, holding one of the apples.
I asked him, 'Where did you get that?'
He laughed and said, 'From my mistress. She told me her foolish husband traveled to Basra and bought three apples.'
When I heard this, rage blinded me. I ran home and saw that only two apples remained. I asked my wife about the third. She said she did not know.
Believing the slave's lie, I killed her in fury, cut her into pieces, and threw her into the river."
The young man began to cry.
"Afterward," he said,"my son told me that a slave had stolen the apple from him. That was when I realized my wife was innocent."
He fell to the ground in grief.
The Caliph was deeply moved.
"This young man is not evil," he said."The true criminal is the lying slave."
He ordered Ja'afar to find the slave within three days — or be executed.
Ja'afar returned home in despair again. He prepared to die.
But then something unexpected happened…
Ja'afar went back to his house, certain that death was now waiting for him.
The Caliph had given him three days to find the slave, but Ja'afar had no idea where to look. He stayed inside his house, praying and preparing himself for the end.
On the fourth day, he called the judges and witnesses and wrote his last will. He began saying goodbye to his family, weeping bitterly.
Last of all, he went to his youngest daughter, whom he loved more than all the others. She was still a little child. He hugged her, kissed her, and cried, thinking he would never see her again.
As he held her, he felt something hard inside her dress.
"What is this in your pocket, my little one?" he asked.
She said,
"Father, it is an apple. Rayhan, our slave, brought it to me four days ago. He would not give it to me unless I paid him two gold dinars."
When Ja'afar heard this, his heart leaped.
He quickly took the apple from her pocket and looked at it closely. It had the name of the Caliph written on it — just like the apples from the Caliph's gardens in Basra.
Ja'afar cried out:
"O God, who removes trouble, you have saved me!"
He now knew the truth.
Ja'afar ordered that the slave Rayhan be brought before him.
When Rayhan came, Ja'afar held up the apple and said,
"Tell me, you wretch — where did you get this apple?"
Rayhan bowed and said,
"By God, my master, I did not steal it from the Caliph's garden. Five days ago, while walking through an alley, I saw children playing. One of them had this apple. I took it from him, though he cried and said:
'This is my mother's. She is ill. My father traveled far to get her three apples.'
But I did not care. I took the apple and later sold it to your daughter for two gold dinars."
When Ja'afar heard this, he understood everything.
This slave had caused:
the apple to be stolen,
the wife to be falsely accused,
and the woman to be murdered.
Ja'afar was filled with sorrow and relief at the same time.
He recited:
"If harm comes to you through your slave,Let him be the sacrifice.Slaves can be replaced,But life comes only once."
He took Rayhan by the hand and led him to the Caliph.
Ja'afar brought Rayhan, the slave, before the Caliph Harun al-Rashid and told him everything—from the stolen apple to the child's story, and how the lie of the slave had led to the death of the innocent woman.
When the Caliph heard it all, he was struck with amazement.
He burst out laughing so hard that he fell backward, saying,
"How strange are the ways of fate! A single apple has caused all this sorrow, blood, and fear!"
He ordered that the whole story be written down and spread among the people, so that everyone would know how easily a small lie can destroy lives.
Then Ja'afar said,
"O Commander of the Faithful, do not marvel only at this tale, for there is a story even stranger than this."
The Caliph replied,
"What could possibly be more strange than the story of the three apples?"
Ja'afar said,
"I will tell it to you, but only if you promise to forgive my slave Rayhan."
The Caliph agreed.
"If your tale is more wonderful than this one, I grant you his life. If not, he shall die."
Ja'afar bowed and began:
"Know, O Commander of the Faithful, that in times long past, Egypt was ruled by a Sultan who was just and generous…"
And thus Ja'afar began The Tale of Nur al-Din Ali and his Son Badr al-Din Hasan.
But Scheherazade, seeing that dawn was near, fell silent, and Shahryar spared her life for another day.
And this is how the story of the Three Apples ends,and another tale begins…