The porter, who had often heard people speak of the immense wealth of
Sindbad, could not help feeling envious of one whose lot seemed to be
as happy as his own was miserable. Casting his eyes up to the sky he
exclaimed aloud,
"Consider, Mighty Creator of all things, the differences between
Sindbad's life and mine. Every day I suffer a thousand hardships and
misfortunes, and have hard work to get even enough bad barley bread to
keep myself and my family alive, while the lucky Sindbad spends money
right and left and lives upon the fat of the land! What has he done
that you should give him this pleasant life--what have I done to
deserve so hard a fate?"
So saying he stamped upon the ground like one beside himself with
misery and despair. Just at this moment a servant came out of the
palace, and taking him by the arm said, "Come with me, the noble
Sindbad, my master, wishes to speak to you."
Hindbad was not a little surprised at this summons, and feared that his
unguarded words might have drawn upon him the displeasure of Sindbad,
so he tried to excuse himself upon the pretext that he could not leave
the burden which had been entrusted to him in the street. However the
lackey promised him that it should be taken care of, and urged him to
obey the call so pressingly that at last the porter was obliged to
yield.