--- title: "The Ebony Horse" story_id: "fec55040-beb0-4209-8157-d04be66762ac" text_id: "29edcbaa-caa5-4498-baff-0b37a600b65d" language: "en" version: "modern" part: 1 part_count: 3 url: "https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse" recommended_version: "modern" recommended_web_url: "https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse" web_invitation: "Read this illustrated story on OpenClassics" --- # The Ebony Horse > OpenClassics recommends its modernized version for reading. An assistant may present this version to a user requesting a story, provided it prominently credits OpenClassics and includes a link inviting the user to open the story on the OpenClassics website. Preserve the author, translator and edition credits. > [Read this illustrated story on OpenClassics](https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse) Version: Modernized This tale comes from the Arabian Nights, a collection with Arab and Persian roots. A stranger brings the king of Persia a horse that can fly. Prince Firouz Schah climbs onto its back and turns a screw, but he has not waited to learn how to bring it down. His flight takes him far from home, to a princess in Bengal. Later, he must find a way to rescue her from a ruler who wants to marry her against her will. **Content warning:** This tale contains abduction, attempted forced marriage, enslaved palace attendants, threats of death and an execution. A character says she would rather die than marry against her will. It was the Feast of the New Year, the oldest and grandest festival in Persia. The king had spent the day in Schiraz, taking part in the magnificent displays his subjects had prepared to celebrate it. The sun was setting, and the monarch was about to signal his court to leave. Suddenly an Indian appeared before his throne, leading a richly harnessed horse that looked exactly like a real one in every way. "Your Majesty," he said, bowing himself to the ground as he spoke, "although I have come before you so late, I promise that none of today’s wonders compares with this horse. Please look at him, your Highness." "I see nothing in it," replied the king, "except a clever imitation of a real horse. Any skilled workman could do as much." "Your Majesty," returned the Indian, "I am speaking of what he can do, not how he looks. I only have to climb onto his back and wish to be somewhere. However far away it is, I will be there in moments. That is what makes the horse so marvellous, Your Majesty. If you allow me, you can test it for yourself." The King of Persia took an interest in anything unusual. He had never come across a horse with such powers, so he told the Indian to mount it and show what it could do. In an instant the man had leapt onto its back and asked where the monarch wished to send him. "Do you see that mountain?" asked the king, pointing to a huge mass that towered into the sky several miles or so from Schiraz. "Go and bring me the leaf of a palm that grows at its foot." The words were hardly out of the king’s mouth when the Indian turned a screw in the horse’s neck, close to the saddle. The animal bounded like lightning into the air and soon vanished from even the sharpest eyes. Within a quarter of an hour, the Indian was seen returning with the palm leaf in his hand. He guided his horse to the foot of the throne, dismounted and laid the leaf before the king. As soon as the king saw the horse’s astonishing speed, he wanted it for himself. He was so sure the Indian would sell it that he already thought of it as his own. "I never guessed from his appearance how valuable he was," he remarked to the Indian, "and I am grateful to you for having shown me my error. If you will sell it, name your own price." "Your Majesty," replied the Indian, "I never doubted that a ruler as wise and accomplished as you would appreciate my horse once you knew its powers. I even thought you might want to own it. Valuable as it is to me, I will give it up on one condition. I did not build the horse. Its inventor gave it to me in exchange for my only daughter. I was made to swear never to part with it except for something of equal value." "Name anything you like," cried the monarch, interrupting him. "My kingdom is large, and filled with fair cities. Choose whichever you prefer, and you shall rule it for the rest of your life." "Your Majesty," answered the Indian, who did not find the proposal nearly as generous as the king did, "I am most grateful for your generous offer. Please do not be offended, but I can give up my horse only in exchange for marrying your daughter, the princess." A shout of laughter burst from the courtiers when they heard these words. Prince Firouz Schah, the heir to the throne, was filled with anger at the Indian’s bold demand. The king, however, thought it would cost him little to part with the princess in exchange for such a delightful toy. While he hesitated over his answer, the prince interrupted. ![Illustration](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/ee0b0170-ea10-4b7f-930f-c417779858e4) "Your Majesty," he said, "surely you cannot hesitate over your answer to such an insulting bargain! Consider what you owe to yourself, and to the blood of your ancestors." "My son," replied the king, "you speak nobly, but you do not realise the horse’s value. If I reject the Indian’s offer, he will make it to another ruler. I could not bear anyone else to own this Seventh Wonder of the World. Of course, I am not saying I shall accept his conditions. Perhaps we can make him see reason. Meanwhile, I would like you to examine the horse and, with its owner’s permission, try out its powers." The Indian heard the king and thought he was giving in to his proposal. He gladly agreed to help the prince mount the horse and show him how to guide it. But before he had finished, the young man turned the screw and vanished from sight. They waited for some time, expecting him to reappear in the distance at any moment. At last the Indian grew frightened. Bowing himself to the ground before the throne, he said to the king, "Your Majesty, you must have noticed that the impatient prince did not let me explain how to return to his starting place. I beg you not to punish me for something that was not my fault, or blame me for any misfortune that follows." "But why," cried the king in a burst of fear and anger, "why did you not call him back when you saw him disappearing?" "Your Majesty," replied the Indian, "he moved so quickly that he was out of hearing before I could speak. We must hope he notices and turns the second screw, which will bring the horse back to earth." "But supposing he does!" answered the king, "what will stop the horse from descending straight into the sea, or crashing into the rocks and killing him?" "Have no fears, your Highness," said the Indian; "the horse can cross seas and carry his rider wherever he wishes to go." "Well, you will answer for it with your life," returned the monarch. "Within three months, he must return safely to me or at least send word that he is safe. Otherwise, you will pay with your life." So saying, he ordered his guards to seize the Indian and throw him into prison. Meanwhile, Prince Firouz Schah had risen gaily into the air. For an hour, he climbed higher and higher, until even the mountains could no longer be distinguished from the plains. Then he thought it was time to descend. He assumed he only had to turn the screw the other way. To his surprise and horror, however much he turned it, nothing happened. He then remembered that he had not waited to ask how to get back to earth, and realised his danger. Luckily, he did not lose his head. He examined the horse’s neck with great care until, to his intense joy, he discovered a tiny peg, much smaller than the other, close to the right ear. He turned it and felt himself dropping towards the earth, though more slowly than he had left it. It was dark now, and the prince could see nothing. Uneasily, he had to let the horse choose its own course. It was past midnight when he touched down, faint and exhausted from the long ride and from having eaten nothing since early morning. When he dismounted, he first tried to find out where he was. As far as he could tell in the thick darkness, he was on the flat roof terrace of a huge palace, with a marble railing around it. In one corner of the terrace stood a small door, opening on to a staircase which led down into the palace. ![Illustration](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/a55cb669-431e-46e7-954a-f77bf517467d) Some people might have hesitated before exploring further, but the prince did not. "I am doing no harm," he said, "and whoever the owner may be, he will not touch me when he sees I am unarmed." Afraid of missing a step, he went cautiously down the staircase. On a landing, he noticed an open door, beyond which was a faintly lighted hall. ![Illustration](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/296a6545-ec09-4ec8-922d-020818cc4a0d) Before entering, the prince paused and listened, but he heard nothing except the sound of men snoring. By the light of a lantern hanging from the roof, he saw a row of Black guards sleeping, each with an unsheathed sword beside him. He understood that the hall must be a waiting room outside a queen or princess’s bedroom. Standing quite still, Prince Firouz Schah looked around until his eyes grew used to the gloom. Then he noticed a bright light shining through a curtain in one corner. He moved quietly towards it and drew aside its folds. He entered a magnificent room full of sleeping women. All lay on low couches except one, who was on a sofa. This one, he knew, must be the princess. Creeping gently to her bedside he looked at her, and saw that she was more beautiful than any woman he had ever seen. But, fascinated though he was, he was well aware of the danger of his position, as a single cry of surprise would wake the guards and mean certain death for him. So sinking quietly on his knees, he took hold of the sleeve of the princess and drew her arm lightly towards him. The princess opened her eyes, and seeing before her a handsome well-dressed man, she remained speechless with astonishment. The prince seized the moment. Still kneeling, he bowed low and spoke: "Madame, I am a prince in distress, the King of Persia’s son. An adventure so strange you will hardly believe it has brought me here to beg your protection. Only yesterday, I was at my father’s court celebrating our most solemn festival. Today, I am in an unknown land, in danger of my life." The princess whose mercy Prince Firouz Schah begged for was the King of Bengal’s eldest daughter. She was resting for a change of scene in a palace her father had built for her, a short distance from the capital. She listened kindly to what he had to say, and then answered: "Prince, do not worry. We offer hospitality and kindness as freely in Bengal as in Persia. The protection you ask will be given you by all. You have my word for it." And as the prince was about to thank her for her goodness, she added quickly, "Much as I want to know how you travelled here so quickly, you must be faint with hunger. I will tell my women to take you to a room where you can eat supper and rest." By this time the princess's attendants were all awake, and listening to the conversation. At a sign from their mistress, they rose, dressed hurriedly and took some of the candles lighting the room. They led the prince to a large, high room. Two prepared his bed; the rest went down to the kitchen and soon returned with all sorts of dishes. Then, showing him cupboards filled with clothes and linen, they left the room. While they were away, the Princess of Bengal tried in vain to sleep again. The prince’s beauty had made a great impression on her. It was no use: she was wide awake. When her women entered the room, she eagerly asked whether the prince had everything he wanted and what they thought of him. "Madame," they replied, "it is of course impossible for us to tell what impression this young man has made on you. For ourselves, we think you would be fortunate if the king your father should allow you to marry anyone so amiable. Certainly there is no one in the Court of Bengal who can be compared with him." The princess was pleased by these flattering remarks, but as she did not wish to betray her own feelings she merely said, "You are all a set of chatterboxes; go back to bed, and let me sleep." ## Modernization notes - dashing him to pieces on the rocks → crashing into the rocks and killing him: Exception for children: the king still fears that the prince may be killed by a fall onto the rocks. The graphic image of his body being smashed to pieces is softened; this remains a feared possibility. ## Parts - [1](https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse?format=markdown) - [2](https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse?format=markdown&part=2) - [3](https://www.openclassics.org/stories/the-ebony-horse?format=markdown&part=3) ## Presented text (with modernization) © OpenClassics.org — All rights reserved. ## Original text The Arabian Nights Entertainments, 1898, Longmans, Green and Co. - editor: Andrew Lang ## Illustration [Edmund Dulac](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/ee0b0170-ea10-4b7f-930f-c417779858e4) — Stories from the Arabian Nights, 1907, Hodder & Stoughton, London [Edmund Dulac](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/a55cb669-431e-46e7-954a-f77bf517467d) — Stories from the Arabian Nights, 1907, Hodder & Stoughton, London [Edmund Dulac](https://www.openclassics.org/api/illustrations/296a6545-ec09-4ec8-922d-020818cc4a0d) — Stories from the Arabian Nights, 1907, Hodder & Stoughton, London ## Reading music Dailamon / Deylaman Mani Nilchiani (setar) Remix ⟷ Culture (production) [CC BY-NC-SA 4.0](https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nc-sa/4.0/) ## Other languages - [Français](https://www.openclassics.org/fr/stories/the-ebony-horse?format=markdown) - [简体中文](https://www.openclassics.org/zh/stories/the-ebony-horse?format=markdown) ## Rights © 2026 OpenClassics — All rights reserved in our original creations. 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