This section is from the book "Stories From The Thousand And One Nights", by Edward William Lane and Stanley Lanepoole. Also available from Amazon: Stories From Thousand And One Nights: The Arabian Nights' Entertainments.
So he was amazed and bewildered and knew not what had happened. And when he returned, the King asked him: "What hast thou seen? Where is thy palace, and where is my daughter, the kernel of my heart, my only child, than whom I have none other?" And 'Ala-ed-Din answered: "O King of the Age, I know not at all, nor what this is that hath occurred." Then said the Sultan: "Know, O
'Ala-ed-Din, that I have pardoned thee in order that thou mayest go and look into this matter and search for my daughter for me; and do not present thyself without her; for if thou bringest her not, by my life I will cut off thy head." And 'Ala-ed-Din replied: "I hear and obey, O
King of the Age. Only grant me a delay of forty days, and then if I do not bring her, cut off my head and do what thou wilt." And the Sultan answered: "I grant thee a delay of forty days, as thou askest, but think not to escape from my hand, for I would bring thee back even if thou wert up in the clouds instead of on the face of the earth." "O my lord the Sultan," said 'Ala-ed-Din, "as! I told thy Felicity, if I fail to bring her at the appointed time, I will come and have my head cut off".
Now when all the people and citizens saw that 'Ala-ed-Din was released, they rejoiced with exceeding joy and were glad at his escape; but the shame of what had befallen him, and bashfulness^ and the jealous satisfaction [of his enemies] caused 'Ala-ed-Din's head to droop. So he went wandering about the city, and was bewildered at the case and knew not what had happened to him. For two days he remained in the city, in a sorrowful state, knowing not how to find his wife and palace, while some of the people brought him food and drink. After the two days he left the city, and wandered about the desert in an aimless manner, and walked on without stopping till the road led him beside a river, where, in the heaviness of the grief that oppressed him he gave up hope, and longed to throw himself into the river. But being a Muslim, and professing the Unity of God, he feared God in his soul, and he stood at the river's bank to perform the religious ablutions. Now as he was taking the water in his hands, he began to rub his fingers together, and. so doing, he chanced to rub the Ring.
Thereupon the Marid [of the Ring] appeared and said: "At thy service! Thy slave is in thy hands. Ask of me what thou desirest." And when he saw the Marid, 'Ala-ed-Din rejoiced with great joy, and said: "O Slave, I desire thee to bring me my palace and my wife, the Lady Bedr-el-Budur, in it, and all else that it containeth." But the Marid answered: "O my master thou askest a hard matter which I cannot do. This thing pertaineth to the Slave of the Lamp, and I am not able to attempt it." So 'Ala-ed-Din replied: "Since this thing is beyond thy power, take me only and place me beside my palace wherever it may be on the earth." And the Slave answered: "I hear and obey, O my master." So the Marid bore him away, and in the twinkling of an eye set him down beside his palace in the land of Africa, in front of the apartment of his wife. It was then nightfall, yet he espied the palace and knew it to be his. And his grief vanished, and he hoped in God, after hope had been cut off, that he should see his wife once more. And he began to consider the mysterious workings of God (glory to his omnipotence!), and how the Ring had cheered him, when all hope would have died had not God aided him with the Slave of the Ring. So he rejoiced, and all his tribulation left him. And as he had gone four days without sleep, from the heaviness of his grief and anxiety and excess of pondering, he went beside the palace and slept under a tree; for, as hath been said, the palace was amid the gardens of Africa outside the city.
That night he slept beside the palace under a tree in perfect repose, though he whose head belongeth to the headsman sleepeth not of nights save when drowsiness compelleth him. But for the space of four days sleep had deserted him. So he slept till broad day, when he was awakened by the warbling of birds, and arose and went to the river there, which flowed to the city, and washed his hands and face, and performed the ablutions, and said the morning-prayer. And when he had done praying he returned and sat under the window of the apartment of the Lady Bedr-el-Budur. Now she, in the excess of her grief at her separation from her husband and from the Sultan, her father, and the horror of what had befallen her from the accursed Moorish wizard, was wont to arise every day at the streak of dawn, and to sit weeping; for she slept not at all of nights, and avoided food and drink. And hef handmaiden would come to her at prayer-time to dress her, and as fate had decreed, the girl had opened the window at that instant in order for her to look upon the trees and the streams and console herself. And the maid looked out of the window and discovered 'Ala-ed-Din, her master, sitting beneath the " apartment, and she said to the Lady Bedr-el-Budur: "Omy mistress, O my mistress! Here is my master 'Ala-ed-Din sitting under the window." So the Lady Bedr-el-Budur arose in haste and looked out of the window and saw him, and 'Ala-ed-Din turned his head and saw her, and she greeted him and he greeted her, and they were both like to fly with joy. And she said to him: "Arise and come in to me by the secret door, now that the accursed is away." And she bade the girl descend and open the secret door for him. And 'Ala-ed-Din arose and entered thereby, and his wife, « the Lady Bedr-el-Budur, met him at the door, and they embraced and kissed one another in perfect bliss till they began to weep from excess of happiness. And when they were seated 'Ala-ed-Din said to her: "O Lady Bedr-el-Budur, before anything it is my wish to ask thee somewhat. It was my habit to put an old copper lamp in my apartment in a certain place. . . ." When the Lady Bedr-el-Budur heard this, she sighed and said: "Alas, my beloved, it was that Lamp that was the cause of our falling into this misfortune." And 'Ala-ed-Din asked her, "How did this affair happen?"