you: and I have no doubt, from the great desire she feels, that she
will come and find you out herself. This being the case, sir, do not
go out; for I am convinced it will not be long before you will see
her arrive.” The confidant was not wrong in her conjectures; for
she had no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the fright of the
jeweller, than the latter instantly made preparations to go to his
house.

He received her with every mark of the most profound respect. As
soon as she had sat down, for she was a little fatigued with her
walk, she took off her veil, and discovered so much beauty to the
eyes of the jeweller, that he instantly confessed, in his own mind,
how excusable it was in the prince of Persia to have devoted his
heart to the Favorite of the caliph. She then accosted the jeweller
in the kindest manner, and said to him, “I could not possibly
become acquainted with the great interest you take in the welfare of
the prince of Persia and myself, without instantly forming the
design of thanking you in person; and I am truly grateful to Heaven
for having so soon, and so well, supplied the great loss we suffered
in Ebn Thaher.”

Schemselnihar added many other obliging things in her speech to the
jeweller; and then returned to her palace. The jeweller himself
instantly went, and gave the prince of Persia an account of this
visit; who, when he saw him arrive, called out, “I have been
waiting for you with the greatest impatience. The confidential slave
has brought me a letter from her mistress: but this letter has
afforded me no comfort. Although the amiable Schemselnihar may
endeavour to give me every encouragement, yet I dare not indulge my
hopes, and my patience is quite exhausted. I know not what plan to
follow. The departure of Ebn Thaher has thrown me into despair. He
was my support; and, in losing him, I have lost every thing; for in
the free access he had to Schemselnihar, I did flatter myself with
some hopes.”

At these words, which the prince uttered in a very expressive
manner, and so rapidly that the jeweller had no opportunity of
putting in a word before, he said, “No one, prince, can take a
greater interest in your misfortunes than I do; and if you will have
the patience to listen to me, you will find, that I can afford you
some comfort. At this speech the prince held his tongue, and was
attentive, “I very clearly see,” added the jeweller, “that the
only means of satisfying you, is to enable you to converse with and
see Schemselnihar without any restraint. This is a satisfaction I
wish to procure you; and I will set about it to-morrow. It will not,
I trust, be necessary to expose you to the risk of going to the
palace of Schemselnihar? you know, from experience, how dangerous a
plan that is. I am acquainted with a much more proper place for this
interview; and where you will both be in safety.” When the
jeweller had finished this speech, the prince embraced him with the
greatest transport.

“You reanimate, by this delightful promise,” he exclaimed, “an
unfortunate lover, who felt himself already condemned to death. From
what I already hear, I am sure I have fully repaired the loss of Ebn
Thaher. Whatever you undertake will, I know, be done well; and I
give myself entirely up to your direction.”

After the prince had thanked the jeweller for the zeal he had shown
in his service, the latter returned home; where the confidential
slave of Schemselnihar came the next morning to seek him. He
informed her, that he had given the prince of Persia some hopes of
seeing Schemselnihar very soon. “I am come expressly,” she
cried, “to concert some measures with you for that purpose. It
appears to me,” she added, “that this very house is well adapted
for their meeting.”--“I should not have the least objection to
their coming here,” replied the jeweller, “but I think they will
be much more at liberty in another house which I have, and which is
inhabited by no one. I will immediately have it handsomely furnished
to receive them.”--“This being the case,” rejoined the slave,
“nothing more remains to be done, but to get the Favorite to agree
to it. I will go and speak to her on the subject, and will return in
a very short time, and give you her answer.”

It was not long before she came back; and she told the jeweller,
that Schemselnihar would not fail to be at the appointed place
towards the close of the day. She at the same time put a purse into
his hands, and told him, it was to procure an excellent collation.
The jeweller directly carried the slave to the house where the
lovers were to meet, that she might know where it was, and be able
to conduct her mistress thither: and, as soon as they parted, he
went to borrow from his friends some gold and silver plate, some
carpets, some very rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he
ornamented the house in the most magnificent manner. When he had got
every thing in readiness, he went to the prince of Persia.

Imagine to yourself the joy of the prince, when the jeweller
informed him, that he was come for the purpose of conducting him to
a house which was prepared on purpose for his and Schemselnihar’s
reception. This intelligence made him forget all his vexations, all
his disappointments, and all his sufferings. He put on a most
magnificent dress, and went out, without even one attendant, with
the jeweller, who led him through many unfrequented streets to his
house, in order that no one might observe them, where he introduced
him, and where they remained in conversation till the arrival of
Schemselnihar.

They did not wait a great while for this too doting fair-one. She
arrived directly after prayers at sun-set, accompanied by her
confidential and two other slaves. It would be useless to attempt to
express to you the excess of joy these two lovers evinced at the
sight of each other; the delineation is almost impossible. They sat
down upon a sofa, and at first looked at each other without being
able to utter a single word, so much were their minds absorbed in
mutual contemplation. But the use of their speech was no sooner
returned, than they made ample amends for their former silence. They
expressed themselves in so tender and affecting a manner, that even
the jeweller, the confidant, and the two slaves, could not refrain
from shedding tears. It was necessary, however, for the jeweller to
dry his tears, and to think about the collation, which he set before
them with his own hands. The lovers eat and drank but very slightly;
after which they returned to the sofa, and Schemselnihar asked the
jeweller, if he happened to have a lute, or any other instrument.
The jeweller, who took care to provide every thing which he thought
might afford them pleasure, immediately brought a lute. The Favorite
spent a few moments in tuning it, and then began to sing.

While Schemselnihar was thus delighting the prince of Persia, by
expressing her love for him in words which she composed at the
moment, they suddenly heard a great noise; and a slave, whom the
jeweller had brought with him, instantly rushed in, frightened to
death, and said, that some people were forcing the door; that he had
demanded of them who it was, when, instead of returning any answer,
they redoubled their blows. The jeweller, greatly alarmed, left
Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia to go and inform himself of
the truth of this bad news. He went as far as the court, when,
through the obscurity of the place, he observed a troop of men,
armed with scimitars, who had already forced the door, and were
coming directly towards him. The jeweller got up close to the wall,
as quickly as possible, and, without being observed, he saw them
pass by, to the number of ten.

As he thought he could be of no use in assisting the prince of
Persia and Schemselnihar, he contented himself with lamenting their
sad situation, and took flight as fast as possible. He ran out of
his own house, and went for safety to that of a neighbour, who was
not yet retired for the night; not doubting, that this unforeseen
and violent attack was made by order of the caliph, who had by some
means been informed of the place of appointment between the Favorite
and the prince of Persia. The house, to which he fled for safety,
was not so far distant, but that he heard the noise they made at his
own; and this noise continued till midnight. Then, as every thing
appeared to him to be silent, he requested his neighbour to lend him
a sabre, and, armed in this manner, he sallied forth. He went to the
door of his own house; and, entering the court, perceived, with
great alarm, a man, who demanded who he was. He instantly recognised
the voice of his slave. “How have you been able,” cried the
jeweller, “to escape being taken by the guard?”--“Sir,”
replied the slave, “I concealed myself in the corner of the court,
and I came out as soon as the noise had ceased. But it was not the
guard that broke in your house; they were robbers, who, for some
days past, have infested this quarter of the city, and pillaged
almost every one. They have, without doubt, remarked, that some rich
furniture has been brought here; and this was certainly their
object.”

The jeweller thought the conjecture of his slave too probable. He
examined the house, and found, in fact, that the robbers had taken
away the beautiful furniture of the apartment in which he had
received Schemselnihar and her lover; and had carried off all the
gold and silver plate, not leaving an individual thing behind them.
At this sight he was quite in despair. “Oh, heavens!” he
exclaimed, “I am undone, without the chance of redress or
recovery. What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make them,
when I shall inform them the thieves have broken open my house, and
robbed me of every thing they had so generously lent me? How can I
ever compensate them for the loss they have suffered through me?
Besides, what can have become of Schemselnihar and the prince of
Persia? This affair will make a great noise, and it infallibly must
reach the ears of the caliph. He will be informed of this
assignation, and I shall be the victim of his rage.” The slave,
who was very much attached to his master, tried to console him. With
regard to Schemselnihar,” he said, “there is no doubt but that
the robbers would be contented with despoiling her of her valuables,
and you may be assured she will return to her palace with her
slaves: and the same will probably be the fate of the prince of
Persia. You have every reason, therefore, to hope, that the caliph
will remain in total ignorance of this adventure. As for the loss
which your friends have suffered, it is a misfortune you cannot
help, nor were able to avoid. They very well know, that the robbers
are here in great numbers, and that they have had the boldness to
pillage, not only the houses I have mentioned to you, but many
others belonging to the principal noblemen of the court; and they
are not ignorant, that in spite of the orders which have been
issued, to seize them, not one of them has hitherto been taken,
notwithstanding all the exertions and diligence that have been used.
You will make them every recompense in returning to your friends the
full value of the things you have been robbed of, and you will then
still have, God be praised, a tolerable fortune remaining.”

While they were waiting till it was day-light, the jeweller made the
slave mend the door of the house that had been forced, as well as he
could. After this, he went back with his slave to that he commonly
lived in; making the most melancholy reflections all the way he
walked along. “Ebn Thaher,” said he to himself, “has been
wiser than I have: he has foreseen this misfortune, into which I
have blindly run headlong. I wish to God I had never taken any part
in an intrigue which may perhaps cost me my life.”

It was hardly day when the report of this house having been broken
open and pillaged spread itself through the city, and was the cause
of a great number of the jeweller’s friends and neighbours
assembling at his habitation; the most part of whom, under the
pretext of expressing their sorrow for this accident, only came to
hear the account more at large. He did not omit to thank them for
the kindness of their inquiries: and he had, at least, the
consolation of finding, that no one mentioned either the prince of
Persia or Schemselnihar, which led him to hope, that they were
returned home, or had retired to some place of safety.

When the jeweller was again alone, his people served up a repast;
but he could not eat any thing. It was now about mid-day; when one
of his slaves came and informed him, there was a man at the door,
whom he did not know, who said, he wanted to speak with him. As the
jeweller did not wish to admit an entire stranger into his house, he
got up and went to speak to him at the door. “Although you do not
know me,” said the man, “I am not unacquainted with you, and I
am come to you upon a most important affair.” At these words the
jeweller requested him to come into the house. “By no means,”
replied the stranger, “you must, if you please, take the trouble
to go with me to your other house.”--“How came you to know,”
answered the jeweller, “that I have any other house besides
this?”--“I am very well acquainted with that,” said the
stranger; “and therefore you have only to follow me, and fear
nothing; I have something to communicate to you that will give you
pleasure.” The jeweller then went with him, but informed him, by
the way, in what manner his house had been robbed, and that it was
not in a state in which to receive any one.

When they had arrived opposite to the house, and the stranger saw
that the door was half broken, he said to the jeweller, “I see,
indeed, that you have spoken the truth; I will conduct you, then, to
a place where we shall be better accommodated.” Having said this,
they continued walking on, nor did they stop during the remainder of
the day. Fatigued with the distance they had come, vexed at seeing
night so near at hand, and wondering at the silence which the
stranger kept respecting the place they were going to, the jeweller
began to lose all his patience, when they arrived at an open place,
which led down to the Tigris. As soon as they were on the banks of
that river they embarked in a small boat, and passed over to the
other side. The stranger then conducted the jeweller down a long
street, where he had never before been; and, after passing through I
know not how many unfrequented lanes, he stopped at a door, which he
opened. He desired the jeweller to go in, shut the door after him,
and fastened it with a large iron bar. He then conducted him into an
apartment, where there were ten other men, who were not less
strangers to the jeweller than the one who had brought him there.

These ten men received the jeweller without much ceremony. They
desired him to sit down, which he did. He had, indeed, great
occasion for a seat, for he was not only fatigued and out of breath
from his long walk, but the alarm with which he was seized at
finding himself with people apparently fully adequate to inspire it,
was so great, that he was hardly able to stand. As they only waited
for the chief, before they went to supper, it was served up, when he
made his appearance. They first washed their hands, and compelled
the jeweller to do the same, and also to sit down at table with
them. After supper was over, they asked him, if he was aware with
whom he was conversing. The jeweller answered he was not, and did
not even know either the quarter of the city or the place he was in.
“Relate to us, then,” they said, “your adventure of last
night, and do not conceal any thing from us.” The jeweller was
much astonished at this speech, and answered, “You are, probably,
gentlemen, already acquainted with it.”--“True,” replied they,
“the young man and young lady who were with you yesterday evening,
have related it to us; but we wish, nevertheless, to know it from
your own lips.”

Nothing more was wanting to make the jeweller understand, that he
was now speaking to the very robbers who had broken open and
pillaged his house. “Gentlemen,” said he, “I am in great
distress about that young man and young lady, can you give me any
information concerning them?”--“Be in no fear,” answered they,
“on their account; they are in a place of safety, and are quite
well.” Having said this, they pointed out two small apartments to
him, in which they assured him they were kept separate. “They
informed us,” added the strangers, “that you were the only
person who were acquainted with their affairs and interested about
them. As soon, therefore, as we knew that, we took all possible care
of them on your account. So far from having made use of the least
violence towards them, we have, on the contrary, done them every
service in our power, and no one has ever wished to treat them ill:
we assure you, also, of the same treatment, and you may place the
fullest confidence in us.”

Encouraged by this speech, and delighted to find that Schemselnihar
and the prince of Persia were in safety, at least with respect to
their lives and persons, the jeweller endeavoured to engage the
robbers still further in their service. He praised and flattered
them, and returned them a thousand thanks. “I acknowledge,
gentlemen,” said he to them, “that I have not the honor of
knowing you; but it is a very great happiness to me, that you are
not unacquainted with me, and I cannot sufficiently thank you for
the gratification this acquaintance on your part has procured me.
Not to mention a word of the great humanity and kindness of this
action, I see very clearly, that it is only among men such as you,
that a secret can be faithfully kept, where there is any danger of a
discovery to be dreaded; and if there be any enterprise of a more
difficult nature than common, you well know how to carry it through,
by your alacrity, your courage, and your intrepidity. Relying upon
these qualifications, to which you have so just a claim, I shall
make no difficulty in relating my history to you, and also that of
the two persons whom you found at my house, with all the
distinctness and truth you can require.”

After the jeweller had taken all these precautions to interest the
robbers about every thing he was going to reveal to them, that he
thought might be of advantage, he gave them a complete detail,
without omitting a single circumstance of the attachment and
adventures of the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the very
beginning till the meeting he had procured them at his house.

The robbers were in the greatest astonishment at what they heard.
“What,” they cried, when the jeweller had concluded his
narration, “is it possible, that this young man is the illustrious
Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia, and this lady the beautiful and
celebrated Schemselnihar?” The jeweller swore that he had told
them nothing but the strict and literal truth; and added, that they
ought not to think it strange, that persons of their rank were very
unwilling to make themselves known.

Upon this assurance, the robbers all went, one after the other, and
threw themselves at the feet of Schemselnihar and the prince of
Persia, entreating them to grant them a pardon; and protesting, that
nothing which had happened should have taken place if they had known
the rank of the guests before they had broken open the jeweller’s
house. “And we will now endeavour,” they added, “to make some
reparation for the fault we have committed.” They then returned to
the jeweller, “We are very sorry,” said they to him, “that we
are unable to restore every thing we have taken from you, as some
part of it is no longer at our disposal; we beg of you, therefore,
to be satisfied with the plate and silver articles, which we will
immediately return to you.”

The jeweller thought himself very fortunate at the favor they, by
these means, did him. When, therefore, the robbers had restored what
they promised, they requested the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar
to come, and informed them, as well as the jeweller, that they were
ready to conduct them back to a certain place, from whence each
might return to his own house; but before they did this, they wished
to engage each of them, by an oath, not to discover them. The prince
of Persia, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, all said they were ready
to pledge their words; but if the robbers particularly wished it,
they would swear solemnly to preserve the whole transaction a most
profound secret. The robbers, upon this, perfectly satisfied with
their oath, went out with them.

As they were going along, the jeweller, feeling much disturbed at
not seeing either the confidant or the other two slaves, went up to
Schemselnihar, and requested her to inform him, if she knew what was
become of them. “I know nothing about them,” she replied; “all
I can tell you is, that they carried us with them from your house,
that we were conducted across the river, and at last led to the
house where you found us.”

This was all the conversation which the jeweller had with
Schemselnihar; they then suffered themselves to be escorted by the
robbers, together with the prince, and they soon came to the side of
the river. The robbers immediately took a boat, embarked with them,
and landed them on the opposite bank.

At the instant in which the prince of Persia, Schemselnihar, and the
jeweller, were getting on shore, they heard a great noise, caused by
the horse-patrole coming towards them, who arrived at the moment
they were landed, and while the robbers were rowing back to the
other side with all strength.

The officer of the guard demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and
the jeweller, where they were coming from at that late hour, and who
they were. As they were all in a state of considerable alarm, and
therefore fearful of saying any thing that might lead them into
difficulties, they remained silent. It was, however, absolutely
necessary to make some answer; and this the jeweller took upon
himself, as his mind was not quite so disturbed. “Sir,” he
replied, “let me, in the first place, assure you, that we are
people of character, who live in the city. The men, who are in the
boat from whence we have just landed, are robbers, who last night
broke open the house where we were. They despoiled it of every
thing, and carried us with them. During the whole of this time, we
made use of every means in our power, by persuasion and entreaties,
and have at last succeeded in obtaining our liberty, and in
consequence of this, they brought us to this spot. Nay, they even
did more, and restored to us a part of the plunder they had taken,
and which we now have with us.” He then showed to the officer the
parcel of plate the robbers had returned to him.

The commander of the patrole was by no means satisfied with this
answer of the jeweller. He went up both to him and the prince of
Persia, “Tell me,” said he to them, looking in their faces,
“the strict truth; who is this lady? How came you acquainted with
her, and in what quarter of the city do you live?”

These questions very much embarrassed them, and they knew not what
answer to make. Schemselnihar, however, got over the difficulty. She
took the officer aside, and no sooner spoke to him, than he got off
his horse, and showed her every mark of great respect and honor. He
directly also ordered some of his attendants to bring two boats.

When these were come, the officer desired Schemselnihar to embark in
one, and the prince and jeweller went into the other. Two of his
attendants were also in each, with orders to conduct them wherever
they wished to go. The two boats then began to steer a different
course: and we will now only attend to that in which the prince of
Persia and the jeweller were.

The prince, in order to save the persons whom the officer had
ordered to conduct them home, some trouble, told them he would take
the jeweller home with him, and informed them of the part of the
city where he lived. Upon this information, the attendants rowed the
boat towards the shore, close to the caliph’s palace. The prince
of Persia and the jeweller, although they durst not discover it,
were in the greatest possible alarm. Notwithstanding they had heard
the order which the officer had given, they nevertheless were fully
persuaded they were going to be conducted to the guard-house for the
night, and that they should be brought before the caliph in the
morning.

This was, however, by no means the intention of their conductors:
for as soon as they had landed; as they were obliged to return to
their party, they transferred them to an officer belonging to the
caliph’s guard, who sent two soldiers with them to attend them by
land to the prince of Persia’s house, which was at a considerable
distance from the river. They at length arrived there, but so worn
out with labor and fatigue they could scarcely move.

In addition to this excess of weariness, the prince of Persia felt
so much afflicted at the unfortunate and unpleasant interruption he
and Schemselnihar had experienced, and which seemed for ever to
annihilate even the hope of another interview, that in sitting down
on the sofa he absolutely fainted. While most of his people were
employed in assisting to recover him, the rest surrounded the
jeweller, and requested him to inform them what had happened to the
prince, whose absence had occasioned them the greatest anxiety.

The jeweller, who took good care to discover nothing to them they
ought not to know, told them, that the adventure was a very
extraordinary one; but that he had not, at that time, sufficient
leisure to give them the relation, and that they would be of greater
use in assisting the prince. The latter fortunately returned at this
moment to his senses, and those persons, therefore, who had so
recently asked the questions, went to a distance, and showed the
greatest respect; and, at the same time, evinced much joy that his
fainting fit had lasted but a short time.

Although the prince of Persia had recovered his recollection, he
remained in such a weak state, that he could not open his lips for
the purpose of speaking. He answered only by signs, even to his
relations, who spoke to him. He continued in the same situation on
the next morning, when the jeweller took his leave of him. The
prince answered him only by a motion of his eye; at the same moment
he took him by the hand; and, as he observed, that he was incumbered
with the bundle of plate which the robbers had returned to him, he
made a sign to one of his attendants to take and carry it home for
him.

His family had expected the return of the jeweller with the greatest
impatience, during the whole of the day he had gone out with the man
who had called to inquire for him, and of whom they were entirely
ignorant; and, when the time in which he ought to have returned was
elapsed, they were convinced some accident even worse than the
robbery had happened to him. His wife, his children, and servants,
were all in the greatest alarm, and were still in tears when he
arrived. Their joy at seeing him was great for the moment, but it
was soon accompanied with pain and regret at finding him so much
altered in so short a time. The excessive fatigue of the preceding
days and having passed the whole of the night without sleep, and in
the midst of alarms, were the causes of this change, and many of his
people, for the moment, hardly knew him again. As he felt himself
very much weakened, he remained two whole days at home without once
stirring out; during which time he saw only his most intimate
friends, to whom he had ordered free admission.

On the third day, the jeweller, who felt his strength
re-established, thought that a walk in the open air would assist his
recovery. He went, therefore, to the shop of a rich merchant, with
whom he had been upon a friendly footing for some length of time. As
he got up to take his leave and go away, he perceived a female, who
made him a sign, and he instantly recognised her as the confidential
slave of Schemselnihar. This sight affected him with such a mixture
of joy and alarm, that he went out of the shop without noticing her.
She, however, followed him, as he was convinced she would, because
the place they were then in was not proper for conversation. As he
walked rather quickly, the confidant could not overtake him, and,
therefore, from time to time called out to him to stop. He heard her
perfectly well, but after what had happened to him, he did not
choose to speak to her in public, through the dread of giving rise
to any suspicion that he had any acquaintance with Schemselnihar.
For it was very well known all over Bagdad, that this slave belonged
to the Favorite, and that she employed her upon every occasion. He
continued to walk at the same rate till he came to a mosque, which
was but little frequented, and where he knew there would not be any
one at this time. The slave followed him into the mosque, and they
had there an opportunity of a long conversation without any
interruption.

Both the jeweller and the confidant of Schemselnihar felt great
pleasure in again seeing each other, after the singular adventure of
the robbers; and the fear each was in for the other, not to mention
the alarm they all were in on their own accounts. The jeweller
wished the confidential slave to inform him, in the first instance,
by what means she and the two slaves had been able to make their
escape, and if she had gained any intelligence of Schemselnihar
since he had seen her. The confidant herself, however, was so very
eager to learn what had happened to him since their unexpected
separation, that he was obliged to satisfy her. “This,” said he,
when he finished his relation, “is all that you wished to know
from me; now, therefore, I beg of you, inform me, in your turn, what
I before desired you.”

“As soon as I saw the robbers make their appearance,” said the
confidant, “I took them for some soldiers belonging to the
caliph’s guard; imagining that the caliph had been informed of the
excursions of Schemselnihar, and that he had sent them with orders
to kill her, the prince of Persia, and all of us. I, therefore,
instantly ran up to the terrace on the top of your house, while the
robbers went into the apartment where the prince and Schemselnihar
were; the other two slaves also made haste to follow my example. We
continued going on from the terrace of one house to another, till we
came to one belonging to some people of good character, who received
us with great kindness, and with whom we passed the night.

“The next morning, after thanking the master of the house for the
favor he had done us, we returned to Schemselnihar’s palace. When
we arrived, we were in the greatest confusion; and felt the more
distressed, as we were entirely ignorant of the destiny of these two
unfortunate lovers. The other female attendants of Schemselnihar
were much surprised at seeing us return without their mistress. We
told them we had previously agreed among ourselves, that we had left
her at the house of a lady, who was one of her friends; and that she
would send for us again, to accompany her back, when she intended to
return. With this excuse they were quite satisfied.

“In the mean time, I passed the day in the greatest uneasiness.
When night came on, I opened the small private gate, and saw a boat
upon the canal that branched off from the river, and terminated at
the gate. I called out to the boatman, and begged him to row on each
side of the river, and look if he could not see a lady; and, if he
met with one, to bring her over.

“We waited (for the two slaves were with me, and as much
distressed as myself,) in expectation of his return till midnight,
when the same boat came back, with two other men in it and a woman,
who was lying down in the stern. When the boat reached the shore,
the two men assisted the lady in getting up and landing. I
immediately discovered her to be Schemselnihar; and my joy at seeing
and finding her again was greater than I can possibly express to
you. I instantly gave her my hand, to assist her in getting out of
the boat, and she had no little need of my assistance, for it was
with difficulty that she supported herself; as soon as she was on
shore, she whispered in my ear, and in a tone which evinced her
sufferings, desired me to go and get a purse, containing a thousand
pieces of gold, and give it to the two soldiers who accompanied her.
I then gave her in charge to the two slaves to help her along, and
after desiring the soldiers to wait a moment, I ran for the purse,
and returned with it almost instantly. I gave it to them, paid the
boatman, and then shut the gate.

“I soon overtook Schemselnihar, who had not yet reached her
apartment. We lost no time in undressing and putting her to bed,
where she continued all night in such a state, as if her soul was on
the eve of quitting its habitation.

“The next day her other attendants expressed a great desire to see
her; but I told them she had returned home very much fatigued, and
had great want of repose to recruit her strength. In the mean time,
the other two slaves and myself afforded her all the assistance and
comfort we could devise, and which she could possibly expect from
our zeal. At first she seemed determined not to eat any thing, and
we should have despaired of her life, if we had perceived that the
wine we from time to time gave her, did not very much support and
strengthen her. At length, by means of our repeated entreaties, and
even prayers, we got her to eat something.

“As soon as I saw that she was able to speak without injury to
herself, for she had hitherto done nothing but shed tears, mixed
with sighs and groans, I requested her to do me the favor of
informing me by what fortunate accident she escaped from the power
of the robbers. ‘Why do you ask me,’ she replied, with a
profound sigh, ‘to bring to my recollection a subject that causes
me so much affliction? I wish to God the robbers had taken my life,
instead of preserving me. My evils would then have been at an end:
but now my sufferings will, I know, long continue to torment me.’

“‘Madam,’ I answered, ‘I beg of you not to refuse me. You
cannot be ignorant, that the unhappy sometimes derive a degree of
consolation from a relation even of their most painful adventures.
What I request, then, will be of service to you, if you will have
the goodness to comply.’

“‘Listen then,’ she said, ‘to a narrative of circumstances
the most distressing that can possibly happen to any one so much in
love as I am, and who thought herself almost at the completion of
her wishes. When I saw the robbers enter, with a sabre in one hand
and a poniard in the other, I concluded the very last moment of my
existence was at hand, and that the prince of Persia was in equal
danger. I did not indeed lament my own death from the satisfaction I
felt, that we should die together. Instead, however, of instantly
falling upon us, and plunging their weapons into our hearts, as I
fully expected, two of the robbers were ordered to guard us, while
the others were engaged in packing up whatever they could find in
the room where we were, and in the other apartments. When they had
done this, and had taken all the plunder upon their shoulders, they
went out, and made us go with them.

“‘While we were on the way, one of those, who accompanied us,
demanded our names. I told him, that I was a dancer. He asked the
same question of the prince, who said, that he was a citizen.

“‘When we had arrived at their dwelling, we experienced new
alarms. They first collected round me, and after examining my dress,
and the valuable jewels with which I was adorned, they seemed very
much to doubt my rank. ‘A dancing girl,’ said they, ‘is not
likely to be dressed like you. Tell us truly who you are.’

“‘As they found I was not inclined to give them any answer, they
put the same question to the prince of Persia. ‘Inform us,’ they
cried, ‘who you are. We see well enough, that you are not a common
person, as you wish us to believe by your former answer.’ He,
however, gave them no greater satisfaction than I had done. He only
told them, that he had come on a visit to a certain jeweller, whose
name he mentioned, in order to amuse himself, and that the house
where they found us belonged to him.

“‘I know that jeweller,’ cried one of the robbers, who seemed
to have some authority among them; ‘and I am under some
obligations to him, although he is not perhaps aware of it: I know,
also, that he has another house. To-morrow I will make it my
business to bring him hither, and we will not release you till we
know from him who you are. In the mean time, be assured that no harm
shall be done to you.’

“‘The jeweller was brought here the next day, and as he thought
to oblige us, and in fact he did so, he informed the robbers
precisely who we were. They immediately came and begged my pardon,
and I believe they did the same to the prince, who was in another
apartment. They protested to me, at the same time, that if they had
known that the house where they discovered us belonged to the
jeweller, they would not have broken it open. They then took us all
three, and conducted us to the banks of the Tigris; they made us go
on board a boat, by which we crossed the water; but, at the very
instant of landing, a party of the guard came up to us on horseback.

“‘I took the commander aside, told him my name, and also that on
the evening before, as I was visiting one of my friends, the robbers
met and stopped me, and then carried me with them; and that it was
not till I had informed them who I was, that they would release me.
That on my account, also, they set at liberty the two persons he
then saw with me, because I assured them I knew who they were. The
officer of the guard immediately alighted, as a mark of his respect,
and after expressing his joy at being able to oblige me in any
thing, he ordered two boats to come to the shore, into one of which
he put me and two of his people, whom you saw, and who escorted me
hither. The prince of Persia and the jeweller embarked in the other
with two more of his soldiers, who went with and conducted them
safely home.

“‘I hope,’ added Schemselnihar, with her eyes swimming in
tears, as she finished this account, ‘that no fresh misfortune has
happened to them since our separation, and I firmly believe, that
the grief and distress of the prince is equal to mine. The jeweller,
who has served us with so much zeal and affection, deserves, at
least, to be recompensed for the loss he has sustained through his
friendship for us; do not, therefore, fail to take him to-morrow
morning, as from me, two purses with a thousand pieces of gold in
each; and gain, at the same time, some intelligence from him
concerning the prince of Persia.’

“When my good mistress had concluded her story, I endeavoured, on
her giving me this last order, to obtain some information of the
prince of Persia, to persuade her to make use of every method to
conquer her feelings after the danger she had just encountered, and
from which she had escaped only, as it were, by a miracle. ‘Make
no reply,’ she called out, ‘but do as I command you.’

“I was, therefore, obliged to hold my tongue, and immediately set
out to obey her orders. I first proceeded to your house, where I did
not find you; and, from the uncertainty whether I should meet with
you at the place where they told me you were gone, I was on the
point of going to the prince of Persia’s, but was afraid to make
the attempt. I left the two purses, as I went past, with a person of
my acquaintance. If you will wait here a little while for me, I will
go and fetch them.”

The confidential slave then departed, but returned to the mosque,
where she had left the jeweller, almost directly. “Here,” said
she, giving him the two purses, “take these, and make a
compensation to your friends for their losses.”--“There is much
more,” replied the jeweller, “than is necessary for that
purpose: but I dare not refuse the present, which so kind and
generous a lady wishes to make to the humblest of her slaves. I beg
you to assure her, that I shall for ever preserve the recollection
of her kindness.” He then made an agreement with the confidant,
that she should come and inquire for him at the house where she had
first met him, whenever she had any thing to communicate from
Schemselnihar, or wished to gain any intelligence of the prince of
Persia. After this they separated.

The jeweller returned home very well satisfied, not only with the
ample sum of money he had received for the purpose of making up the
loss his friends had suffered, but also from the idea, that he was
sure no person in Bagdad knew that the prince of Persia and
Schemselnihar had been discovered in his other house, which had been
robbed. It is true, he had acquainted the robbers themselves with
it, but he was tolerably secure of their secrecy, from its being
mutual. Besides, they, he thought, did not mix sufficiently with the
world to fear any danger from them, even if they did divulge it. The
next morning he saw those friends, to whom he was under such
obligations, and he had no difficulty in giving them perfect
satisfaction. And, after all, he had enough money remaining to
furnish his other house again very properly. He did this, and sent
some of his domestics to inhabit it. While thus employed, he quite
forgot the danger which he had so lately escaped from; and in the
evening he went to visit the prince of Persia.

The officers and attendants of the prince, who received him, told
him he arrived very opportunely, for that the prince, since he left
him, was in such a state as to alarm them for his life; and that
they had not been able to get him to speak a single word. They
introduced him into his chamber without making the least noise; and,
he found the prince lying in his bed, with his eyes shut, and in a
state which very much excited his compassion. He saluted him, took
him by the hand, and exhorted him to keep up his spirits.

The prince of Persia perceived that it was the jeweller who spoke to
him; he opened his eyes, and gave him such a look as plainly evinced
how much he was afflicted, and how much more he now suffered than
when he first saw Schemselnihar. He took hold of him, and pressed
his hand as a mark of his friendship; and, at the same time said,
though in the most feeble tone of voice, how much he felt himself
obliged to him for the trouble he took in coming to see so
unfortunate and wretched a being as he was.

“Talk not, I beseech you, prince,” said the jeweller, “of the
obligations you are under to me. I wish, most earnestly, that the
good offices which I endeavor to do you were attended with more
success. Let us only think of your health. From the state you are
now in, I fear you suffer yourself to be too much depressed, and
that you do not take so much nourishment as is absolutely
necessary.”

The attendants who were in waiting, seized this opportunity to
inform the jeweller, that they had tried every method in their power
to induce him to eat something, but all their efforts were
ineffectual, and that the prince had taken nothing for a great
length of time. This compelled the jeweller to request the prince of
Persia to suffer his servants to bring some nourishment for him to
take, and after much entreaty he at length obtained his consent.

When the prince of Persia had eaten, through the persuasions of the
jeweller, much more than he had hitherto done, he ordered his people
to retire, that he might be alone with him. And after they were gone
out, he addressed these words to him: “Added to the misfortune
which overwhelms me, I feel very great pain for the loss that you
have suffered from your regard to me; and, it is but just, that I
should think of some means to recompense you: but in the first
place, after requesting you most earnestly to pardon me, I entreat
you to inform me, if you have heard any thing of Schemselnihar,
after I was compelled to separate myself from her.”

As the jeweller had before received the whole account from
Schemselnihar’s confidential slave, he now related what he knew of
her arrival at her own palace, and of the state she had been in from
that moment, till she felt herself so much better as to be able to
send her confidant to get some intelligence of him.

To this speech of the jeweller the prince answered only by his sighs
and tears. He then made an effort to get up; he called his people,
and went himself to the room where he kept his valuables, and
ordered it to be opened; he then made them take out many pieces of
rich furniture and plate, and ordered them to be carried to the
jeweller’s.

The jeweller wished to decline accepting the present of the prince
of Persia; but although he represented to him, that Schemselnihar
had already sent him much more than sufficient to replace every
thing that his friends had lost, the prince nevertheless would be
obeyed. The only thing, therefore, the jeweller could do, was to
acknowledge how much he felt confused at his great liberality, and
to assure him, he could not be sufficiently thankful for his
kindness. He then wished to take his leave; but the prince desired
him to remain, and they passed the greatest part of the night in
conversation.

The jeweller saw the prince again the next morning before he went
away, when the latter made him sit down near him. “You know very
well,” said he, “that there must be an end to every thing. The
sole object and end of a lover is to obtain possession of her he
loves, without restraint: if he once loses sight of this hope, it is
certain, that he can no longer wish to live. This, you must be well
convinced, is the miserable situation in which I am. Twice, when I
have fancied myself at the very consummation of my wishes, at that
very instant have I been torn from the object of my affections in
the most cruel manner. I have now, therefore, only to think of
death. I would myself be the cause of its immediate presence, but
that my religion prevents my becoming a self-murderer. I feel,
however, that I have no occasion to hasten its approach; because I
am well convinced I shall not have long to expect it.” With these
words he concluded his speech, and then gave full scope to his
tears, nor did he endeavour to suppress his sighs and his
lamentations.

The jeweller, who knew not what better method to pursue, to lead his
attention from this hopeless and despairing train of thinking, than
by recalling Schemselnihar to his recollection, and holding out some
slight ray of hope, told him, that he was afraid the confidant was
already come; and it would not, therefore, be right that he should
lose any time in going home. “I permit you to go,” said the
prince, “but if you see her, I entreat you to urge her to assure
Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect will very soon be the
case, I shall adore her with my last breath, nor will my affection
cease even in the tomb.”

The jeweller then returned home, and remained there, in hopes that
the slave would soon make her appearance. She, in fact, arrived a
few hours after; but bathed in tears, and in the greatest disorder.
Greatly alarmed at seeing her in this condition, the jeweller
eagerly inquired what was the matter.

“We are all undone,” cried she; “Schemselnihar, the prince of
Persia, you, myself, every one of us are lost. Listen to the
terrible news I learnt yesterday, when I left you and returned to
the palace.

“Schemselnihar had ordered one of the two slaves, who were with us
at your house, to be punished for some fault or other. Enraged at
this ill-treatment, this slave, finding a door of the palace open,
ran out, and we have no doubt but that she went and told every thing
to one of the eunuchs of our guard, who has afforded her a retreat.

“Nor is this all: the other slave, her companion, is also fled,
and has taken refuge in the palace of the caliph, to whom, we have
every reason to believe, she has revealed all she knew; and what
confirms this opinion is, that the caliph sent this morning twenty
eunuchs to bring Schemselnihar to his palace. I found the means to
steal away, and to come and give you information of all this. I know
not what has passed, but I conjecture nothing good. Whatever it may
be, I entreat you to be quite secret.

The confidant then added, that she thought it would be proper to go,
without losing a moment, and find the prince of Persia, and to
inform him of the whole affair, that he might hold himself in
readiness for any turn the event might take; and also that he might
be true and faithful to the common cause. She said not another word,
but suddenly went away, without even waiting for an answer.

And what indeed could the jeweller have answered in the state this
speech put him in! He remained motionless, like a person stunned by
a blow. He was nevertheless aware, that the business required
decisive and prompt measures. He, therefore, made all the haste he
could to the prince of Persia’s, and as soon as he saw him, he
accosted him in a way that instantly showed he was the messenger of
bad news. “Prince,” he cried, “arm yourself with patience,
constancy, and courage; prepare for an attack, the most dreadful you
have ever encountered.”

“Tell me,” exclaimed the prince, “in two words, what has
happened, and do not thus keep me in suspense. I am ready to die, if
it be necessary.”

The jeweller then related to him every thing he had heard from the
confidential slave. “You see,” added he, “that your
destruction is inevitable. Get up then, and endeavour instantly to
save yourself. The time is precious. You ought not to expose
yourself to the rage of the caliph, still less to confess any thing,
although you should be in the midst of torments.”

Very little more would at this moment have actually destroyed the
prince, so much was he already broken down by affliction, sorrow,
and terror. He at length recollected himself, and inquired of the
jeweller what plan he advised him to pursue in so critical a
conjuncture, and when he had only an instant to take advantage of
it. “There is nothing to be done,” replied the jeweller, “but
to get on horse-back as soon as possible, take the road to Anbar,
and endeavour to arrive there before daylight to-morrow. Let as many
of your people accompany you as you think necessary, and some good
horses, and suffer me to save myself with you.”

The prince of Persia, who knew of no better method to pursue, gave
orders to have prepared barely as much as was necessary for the
journey; carried some money and jewels with him, and after taking
leave of his mother, set out, and hastened as much as possible to
get at a distance from Bagdad, in company with the jeweller, and the
attendants he had chosen.

They travelled the rest of the day, and most of the following night,
without making any stop on the road, till about two or three hours
before day, when the fatigue of so long a journey, and the absolute
inability of their horses to proceed, compelled them to alight, and
take some little repose.

They had hardly had time to breathe, before they were attacked by a
considerable troop of robbers. They defended themselves for some
time with the greatest courage, till all the attendants of the
prince were killed: the prince and the jeweller then laid down their
arms, and yielded at discretion. The robbers gave them their lives;
and after taking their horses and baggage, they rifled and even
stripped their persons, and then retiring with their plunder, left
them in the same place.

The robbers were no sooner at some distance, than the prince said to
the jeweller, who was in the utmost distress, “Well, what think
you of our late adventure, and the state we are now left in? Do you
not rather wish that I had remained at Bagdad waiting there for my
death, in what manner soever it might have been
inflicted!”--“Prince,” replied the jeweller, “we must submit
to the decrees of the Almighty. It is his will that we should suffer
affliction upon affliction. Our business is not to murmur, but to
receive every thing, whether good or evil, from his hands with
absolute submission. Let us not, however, stop here; but proceed,
and endeavour to find out some place, where we shall be able to
obtain relief under our misfortune.”

“Let me alone,” cried the prince of Persia, “and suffer me to
end my days in this place; for of what consequence is it where I
breathe my last. Perhaps, at the very instant we are now speaking,
Schemselnihar is herself no more; and it is neither my wish nor even
in my power, to live a moment after her.” The jeweller at length,
with much intreaty, persuaded him to move. They walked on for a long
time, and at last came to a mosque, which they found open. They went
in, and passed the rest of the night there.

At day-break, there was only one person came into the mosque. He
said his prayers, and when he had finished them, as he was going out
he perceived the prince of Persia and the jeweller, who were seated
in one corner. He went up to them, and saluted them with great
civility. “You seem to me,” he said to them, “if I may judge
from your appearance, to be strangers.” The jeweller, who took
upon himself to speak, answered, “You are not wrong in your
supposition. Last night, in coming along the road from Bagdad, we
were robbed, as you may conjecture from the state we are in; and we
have great need of assistance, but know not to whom to
apply.”--“If you will take the trouble,” replied the stranger,
“to come to my house, I will very readily give you all the help
and assistance in my power.”

On hearing this obliging offer, the jeweller turned towards the
prince of Persia, and whispered in his ear, that he thought this man
did not know either of them, and that they had some reason to think
it possible another might come, who would recognise them. “We
ought not, therefore,” said he, “to refuse the favor which this
good man does us.”--“You are master,” replied the prince, “I
agree to every thing you wish.”

As the stranger saw the prince and the jeweller consulting together,
he thought that they made some difficulty in accepting the proposal
he had made them. He asked, therefore, on what they had determined,
“We are ready to follow you,” replied the jeweller, “but what
affords us the greatest distress is, that we are almost naked, and
are therefore ashamed to appear in this condition.” Fortunately,
however, the man had sufficient clothes about him, to be able to
bestow enough on them to cover them in their way to his house. And
they were no sooner arrived, than their host ordered some clothes to
be brought for each of them; and, as he naturally imagined that they
were greatly in want of food, and would also be much more at ease by
themselves, he sent a female slave with a variety of dishes. They
scarcely, however, touched any thing, particularly the prince, who
was reduced to such a languid state, and was so worn out, that the
jeweller felt considerable alarms for his life.

Their host visited them several times during the day; but he left
them early in the evening, as he knew they stood in great need of
repose. The jeweller, however, was obliged, almost immediately, to
call him again, to help him in attending on the prince of Persia,
who, he thought, was very near dying. He perceived that his
respiration was difficult and rapid, and from this he judged he had
only a few moments to live. He went up to him, when the prince said,
“It is, as you must perceive, all over with me; and I am well
satisfied, that you should be a witness to the last sigh I shall
ever breathe; I resign my life with much satisfaction, nor need I
inform you why I do so. You know it. All the regret I feel is, that
I do not breathe my last in the arms of my dearest mother, who has
always shown the tenderest affection for me; and for whom, I trust,
my respect has ever been such as was proper. She will suffer much,
from not having the melancholy consolation of closing my eyes, and
even of burying me with her own hands. Tell her, I beg of you, the
pain I suffer; and request her, as from me, to have my body conveyed
to Bagdad, chat she may water my grave with her tears, and may
afford me the benefit of her prayers.” He did not forget the
master of the house where he was; and thanked him for the generous
reception he had given him, and after requesting that his body might
be preserved in his house, till they came to bury it, he expired.

The day after the death of the prince of Persia, the jeweller took
advantage of a large caravan, which happened at that time to be
going to Bagdad; where he arrived in safety. He immediately went to
his own house, and having changed his dress, he proceeded to that of
the deceased prince of Persia, where they were all much alarmed at
not seeing the prince himself come back with him. He desired the
attendants to inform the prince’s mother, that he wished to speak
to her; and it was not long before they introduced him into a hall,
where she was surrounded by many of her females. “Madam,” said
the jeweller on entering, but in a tone and manner that evidently
proved he was the messenger of ill news, “may God preserve you,
and heap abundance of his favors upon you. You are not ignorant,
that the Almighty disposes of us as he pleases.”

The lady gave the jeweller no time to say more, “Ah,” she
exclaimed, “you come to announce the death of my son!” She
instantly uttered the most melancholy cries, which, together with
those made by her women, renewed the grief, and made the tears of
the jeweller flow afresh. She continued to suffer these torments,
and remained a long time overcome by affliction, before she would
permit the jeweller to go on with what he had to say. She at length
suppressed for a time her lamentations and tears, and begged him to
continue his account, and not to conceal any circumstance of this
melancholy separation. He satisfied her; and when he had concluded,
she asked him if the prince her son had not charged him with any
thing in particular to say to her, when he was at the extremity of
his life. He assured her, that he only expressed the greatest regret
at breathing his last at a distance from her, and that the only
thing he wished was, that she would take care and have his body
brought to Bagdad. Early, therefore, the next morning, she set out,
accompanied by all her women, and a considerable part of her slaves.

When the jeweller, who had been detained by the mother of the prince
of Persia, had seen her take her departure, he returned home in the
most melancholy state of mind: his eyes cast down, and himself
deeply regretting the death of so accomplished and amiable a prince,
in the very flower of his age.

As he was walking along, meditating thus within himself, a woman
came up and stopped directly before him. He lifted his eyes, and
perceived the confidential slave of Schemselnihar, dressed in
mourning, and her eyes bathed in tears. The sight renewed his
affliction to a great degree, and without even opening his lips to
speak to her, he continued walking on, till he came to his own
house, to which the confidant followed him, and entered at the same
time.

They both sat down, and the jeweller began the conversation, by
asking her, sighing deeply at the same time, if she had already been
informed of the death of the prince of Persia, and if it was for him
that she wept. “Alas, no,” she answered: “is then this
charming prince dead? He has not indeed long survived his adorable
Schemselnihar. Lovely spirits,” added she, addressing the departed
lovers, “in whatever place you may be, you are now sufficiently
satisfied in being able, for the future, to love each other without
any obstacle. Your bodies were an invincible hindrance to your
wishes, and Heaven has only freed you from them to enable you to be
united in soul.”

The jeweller, who was hitherto ignorant of the death of
Schemselnihar, and who had not as yet attended to the circumstance
of the confidant’s being in mourning, felt an additional pang when
he learnt this intelligence. “Schemselnihar dead too!” he
exclaimed. “Is she no more?”--“Such indeed is her fate,”
replied her slave, renewing her tears. “It is for her that I am in
mourning. The circumstances attending her death are singular, and it
is proper that you should be made acquainted with them. But previous
to my giving you a narrative of this, I beg of you to inform me of
every thing relative to the death of the prince of Persia, whose
loss I shall continue all my life to lament, as well as that of my
dear and amiable mistress of Schemselnihar.

The jeweller satisfied the confidant in every particular she wished
to know, and as soon as he had finished his account, beginning from
the time she left him to the moment in which the prince’s mother
began her journey for the purpose of bringing her son’s body to
Bagdad, she went on as follows: “I have already told you how the
caliph sent for Schemselnihar to his own palace. It was true, as we
had reason to believe, that the caliph had been informed of the
attachment and meeting between Schemselnihar and the prince of
Persia by the two slaves, whom he had separately questioned. You may
already perhaps imagine, that he was in the greatest rage with the
Favorite; and that he showed strong marks of jealousy and revenge
against the prince of Persia. By no means. He thought not for an
instant about him. He only pitied Schemselnihar. Nay, he attributed,
as it is thought, what had happened only to himself, and to the
permission which he had given her to go freely about the city,
unaccompanied by any eunuchs. At least we cannot form any other
conjecture, from the extraordinary manner in which he conducted
himself towards her from first to last; as you shall hear.

“The caliph received her with an open countenance, and when he
perceived the traces of that grief with which she was overwhelmed,
but which nevertheless did not in the least diminish her beauty, for
she appeared before him without any symptoms either of surprise or
fear. ‘Schemselnihar,’ said he to her, with his usual accustomed
goodness, ‘I cannot bear that you should appear before me with a
countenance so strongly impressed by sorrow. You know with what
ardour I have always loved you: You must be convinced of its
sincerity by all the proofs I have given you of it. I am not
changed; for I still love you more than ever. You have some enemies,
and these enemies have made some ill reports of the manner in which
you conduct yourself; every thing, however, that they can say of
you, has not made the least impression upon my mind. Drive away then
this melancholy, and dispose yourself to entertain me this evening
with something as amusing and diverting as you used to do.’ He
continued to say many other obliging things to her, and then
conducted her into a magnificent apartment near his own; where he
requested her to wait for him.

“The wretched Schemselnihar was sensibly affected at so many
proofs of the caliph’s concern for her person: but the more she
felt herself under obligations to him, the more was her bosom
penetrated with grief at being separated, perhaps for ever, from the
prince of Persia, without whom she was convinced she could not exist.

“This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar,” continued
the confidant, “took place while I was coming to speak to you; and
I learnt the particulars of it from my companions, who were present.
As soon, however, as I left you, I hastened back to Schemselnihar,
and was witness to what passed in the evening. I found my mistress
in the apartment I have mentioned; and as she was very sure I was
come from your house, she desired me to approach her; and, without
being overheard by any one, she said to me, ‘I am much obliged to
you for the service you have just now rendered me: I feel that it
will be the last.’ This was all she uttered, and I was not in a
place where I could say any thing by way of endeavouring to afford
her consolation.

The caliph in the evening entered Schemselnihar’s palace to the
sound of instruments, which were touched by the females belonging to
the Favorite, when a collation was instantly served up. The caliph
took Schemselnihar by the hand, and made her sit near him upon a
sofa. To comply with this action had such a violent effect upon her
feelings, that in a few moments after we saw her expire. She was in
fact hardly seated, before she fell backwards. The caliph thought
that she had only fainted, nor had we at first any other idea. We
gave her every assistance in our power; but she never breathed
again. This then was the manner in which we suffered our great loss.

“The caliph honored her with his tears, which he was unable to
restrain; and before he retired to his apartment he gave orders that
all the musical instruments should be absolutely destroyed, which
was accordingly done. I remained near the body the whole night, and
both washed and prepared it for burial with my own hands, almost
bathing it with my tears. It was the next day interred, by the
command of the caliph, in a magnificent tomb, which he had before
ordered to be built in a spot that Schemselnihar had herself chosen.
And since,” added the slave, “you have told me the body of the
prince of Persia is to be brought to Bagdad, I am determined that it
shall be placed in the same tomb with that of the Favorite.”

The jeweller was very much astonished at this resolution of the
confidant. “You do not surely recollect,” said he, “that the
caliph will never suffer it.”--“You may believe the thing
impossible,” replied she, “but I assure you, it is not. And you
will agree with me, when I have informed you that the caliph has
given their freedom to all the slaves that belonged to
Schemselnihar, with a pension to each of them sufficient to support
themselves; and that he has moreover appointed me to take care of,
and watch her tomb, with a considerable salary both for its repair
and my subsistence. Besides, the caliph, who is not ignorant of the
mutual attachment of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, as I
have already told you, and who is not now offended or hurt at it,
will never have any objection to it.” In answer to this, the
jeweller had nothing to say; he only requested the confidant to
conduct him to the tomb, that he might offer up his prayers there.
When he arrived, he was greatly surprised at seeing a crowd of
people of both sexes, who had collected there from all parts of
Bagdad. He could not even get near it; and could only pray at some
distance. When he had finished his prayers, he said to the confidant
in a satisfactory tone of voice, “I do not now think it impossible
to accomplish what you so properly planned. We have only to make
known the various facts we are acquainted with, concerning the
Favorite and the prince of Persia, and particularly the death of the
latter, which took place almost at the same instant with that of
Schemselnihar.” Before his body arrived, all Bagdad agreed in
demanding, that they should not be separated in the grave. The
scheme succeeded, and on the day in which it was known the body
would arrive, a multitude of people went out even twenty miles to
meet it.”

The confidant waited at the gate of the city, where she presented
herself before the mother of the prince of Persia, and requested her
in the name of all the inhabitants, who so ardently desired it, to
allow the bodies of the two lovers, whose hearts formed but one,
from the commencement of their attachment to the last moment of
their lives, to be united in one tomb. The lady agreed to it; and
the body was carried to the tomb of Schemselnihar, an immense number
of people of all ranks following it; and then placed by her side.
From that time all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers
from all parts of the world, where mussulmen are known, have never
ceased from feeling a great veneration for that tomb, and going to
offer up their prayers at its foot.

“This, sire,” said Scheherazadè in this place, “is what I had
to relate to your majesty concerning the amours of the beautiful
Schemselnihar, the Favorite of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, and the
amiable Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia.”

When Dinarzadè perceived the sultana, her sister, had concluded her
speech, she thanked her most kindly for the pleasure she had
afforded her by the recital of so interesting a history: “If the
sultan,” replied Scheherazadè, “would suffer me to live till
to-morrow, I would relate to him the history of prince Camaralzaman,
[14] which he would find still more agreeable.” She was then
silent; and Schahriar, who could not yet determine to give orders
for her death, deferred it, in order to listen to the new story,
which the sultana began to relate, on the following night.

THE HISTORY
OF THE AMOURS OF CAMARALZAMAN, PRINCE OF THE ISLE OF THE CHILDREN OF
KHALEDAN, AND OF BADOURA, PRINCESS OF CHINA.

About twenty days sail from the coast of Persia, sire, there is, in
the open sea, an island, which is called the Isle of the Children of
Khaledan. This island is divided into several large provinces, with
many large flourishing and well-peopled towns scattered over them,
and forms altogether a very powerful kingdom. It was formerly
governed by a king, named Schahzaman, who had four wives, as was the
custom; all daughters of kings, and sixty concubines.

Schahzaman esteemed himself the happiest sovereign on the whole face
of the earth, on account of the tranquillity and prosperity of his
reign. One thing alone affected his happiness; he was already far
advanced in years, and he had no children, notwithstanding he had so
great a number of wives. He could not account in any way for this
circumstance; and in the moments of his affliction he considered it
as the greatest misfortune that could befal him, to die without
leaving a successor to the throne, who was descended from him. He,
for a considerable time, concealed the tormenting anxiety that
preyed upon him; and he suffered so much the more as he endeavoured
to assume an air of cheerfulness. At length he broke silence; and
one day having complained of his misfortune in the bitterest terms
of sorrow, in a private conversation he had with his grand vizier,
he asked him if he knew of any means to remedy so great an evil.

“If what your majesty requires,” replied this wise minister,
“depended on the common interference of human wisdom, you might
soon have the gratification you so ardently desire; but I confess,
my experience and knowledge is not equal to solve what you ask; to
God alone you must apply in such cases; in the midst of our
prosperity, which often makes us forget what we owe him, he
sometimes mortifies us on some interesting point, that we may turn
our thoughts to him, acknowledge his universal power, and ask of him
that which we cannot obtain but by his interference. You have
amongst your subjects some men, who devote themselves to the
particular profession of knowing and serving him, and lead a life of
penance and hardship for the love of him: my advice is, that your
majesty should bestow alms on them, and request them to join their
prayers to yours; perhaps amongst so great a number, one may be
sufficiently pure and acceptable to God, to obtain from him the
completion of your wishes.”

The King approved this advice, for which he thanked his grand
vizier. He ordered alms to a considerable amount to be presented to
each of these communities of people, consecrated to God; he then
desired the superiors of them to come to him, and after having
regaled them with a repast suited to their frugal manner of living,
he declared his intention, and begged them to acquaint the devotees
of it also, who were under their authority.

Schahzaman obtained from Heaven what he so much desired, and which
was soon evident by the pregnancy of one of his wives, who, at the
expiration of nine months, presented him with a son. To testify his
gratitude, he sent fresh presents to the societies of devout
mussulmen, which were worthy of his dignity and greatness; and the
birth of the prince was celebrated by public rejoicings for a whole
week, not only in his capital but throughout his extensive
dominions. The young prince was taken to him immediately on his
birth, and he thought him so very beautiful, that he gave him the
name of Camaralzaman, which means the moon of the age.

Prince Camaralzaman was educated with all possible attention, and
when he had reached a proper age, the sultan appointed him a prudent
governor and able preceptors. These persons, distinguished by their
superior understandings, found in him a docile and intelligent
disposition, capable of receiving all the instruction they wished to
give him, either for the forming of his morals, or the cultivation
of his mind, in such acquirements as a prince in his situation ought
to be possessed of. And, when of a more advanced age, he learned
various exercises with the same degree of facility; and acquitted
himself with so much grace and address, that he charmed every
beholder, but more particularly the sultan his father.

When the prince had attained the age of fifteen years, Schahzaman,
who loved him with the greatest tenderness, and of which he gave him
every day new and stronger proofs, conceived the design of bestowing
on him the most striking mark of his affection, by descending from
the throne himself, and raising his son to that distinguished
situation. He communicated it to his grand vizier: “I fear,”
said he, “that in the idleness of youth, my son will lose not only
those advantages which nature has bestowed on him, but also such as
he has so successfully acquired by the good education I have given
him. As I am now advanced to an age to make me think of retiring
from the world, I have almost resolved to give up the government to
him, and to pass the rest of my days in the satisfaction of seeing
him reign. I have laboured a long time, and I now want repose.”

The grand vizier would not then represent to the sultan all the
reasons that might dissuade him from putting this design into
execution; on the contrary, he appeared to concur in his wish.
“Sire,” replied he, “the prince is still too young, I think,
to be charged at so early a period with a burden so heavy as that of
governing a powerful state. Your majesty is fearful that he may be
corrupted, if suffered to lead a life of inactivity and indolence,
and indeed with reason; but to remedy that evil, would it not in
your opinion be more proper to marry him first? Marriage is likely
to render his affections steady, and to prevent his entering into
dissipation; added to that, your majesty might allow him admittance
to your councils, by which he would learn by degrees to sustain the
brilliancy and weight of your crown with dignity; and when
sufficiently qualified, and you by experience found him equal to the
undertaking, you might still resign it in his favor.”

Schahzaman thought this advice from his prime minister very
reasonable and prudent; he therefore summoned his son, prince
Camaralzaman, to attend him as soon as the grand vizier had taken
his leave.

The prince, who hitherto had only seen the sultan at certain stated
hours, without requiring a summons, was rather surprised al this
order. Instead, therefore, of presenting himself before him in his
usual free manner, he saluted him with great respect, and stopped as
soon as he was in his presence, fixing his eyes on the ground.

The sultan perceived the restraint of the prince; “My son,” said
he, in a tone intended to inspire him with confidence, “do you
know on what account I sent for you?”--“Sire,” replied the
prince, modestly, “God alone can penetrate into the recesses of
the heart: I shall learn the reason from your majesty’s lips with
the greatest pleasure.”--“I did it to acquaint you,” resumed
the sultan, “that I wish you to marry: what do you think of it?”

Prince Camaralzaman heard these words with great concern. He was
quite disconcerted; a cold damp arose on his face; and he knew not
how to reply. After some moments passed in silence he said, “Sire,
I entreat you to pardon me, if I appear confused at the declaration
your majesty has just made; I did not expect it at my very youthful
age. I do not even know, whether I shall ever be able to submit
myself to the bonds of marriage, for I am well aware of the
embarrassment and trouble occasioned by women; besides which, I have
frequently read in our authors of their arts, their cunning, and
their perfidy. Perhaps I may not always remain of this opinion; at
any rate I feel, that I should require a considerable length of time
to induce me to agree to what your majesty requires of me.”

This answer of the prince extremely afflicted the sultan his father.
This monarch felt real grief at finding in his son so great a
repugnance to matrimony. He did not, however, think proper to treat
it as disobedience, nor to make use of the authority of a parent; he
contented himself with saying, “I will not use any undue influence
over you on this subject; I give you time to think of it, and to
consider, that a prince, destined as you are to govern a large
kingdom, ought in the first place to turn his thoughts to provide a
successor in his own family. In giving yourself this satisfaction
you will afford me a very great one, who shall love to see myself
live over again in you and in the children, who are to prolong my
race.”

Schahzaman said no more to prince Camaralzaman. He allowed him free
entrance to the councils of state, and in every other respect gave
him reason to be satisfied with his conduct towards him. At the
expiration of a year he took him aside; “Well, my son,” said he,
“have you remembered to make your reflections on the design I
formed last year, of marrying you? Will you still refuse me the joy
I should experience from your compliance with my wishes, and do you
intend that I should die without experiencing this satisfaction?”

The prince appeared less discontented than on the former occasion,
and did not long hesitate to reply with firmness in these words,
“I have not, sire, omitted to reflect upon the subject; I gave it
all the attention which it deserves; but, after having maturely
considered it; I am still more confirmed in my resolution to live
without any matrimonial engagement. In fact, the numberless evils
which women have from time immemorial been the occasion of in the
universe, as I have been well informed by our histories, and the
daily accounts I hear of their cunning and malice, are the motives
which determine me never to have any connexion with them. Therefore
your majesty will pardon me, if I dare to assure you, that any
arguments you may use, to endeavour to persuade me to marry, will be
fruitless.” Here he ceased, and left the presence of the sultan in
an abrupt manner, without even waiting for him to return an answer.

Any other monarch besides Schahzaman would with difficulty have
restrained himself from using violence, after the rude and obstinate
way in which the prince, his son, had expressed himself, and would
have ordered him some punishment; but he tenderly loved him, and
wished to employ every gentle means of persuasion before he had
recourse to more rigid methods. He communicated this new cause of
sorrow which Camaralzaman had given to him, to his prime minister.
“I have followed your advice,” said he, “but my son is still
more adverse to matrimony than he was the first time I spoke to him
on the subject; and he explained himself in such a determined
manner, that I needed all my reason and moderation to restrain my
anger. Fathers who pray for children as ardently as I did, are
madmen and fools, who seek to deprive themselves of that repose and
quiet which they might otherwise have tranquilly enjoyed. Tell me, I
entreat you, by what means I can reclaim a mind so rebellious to my
desires.”

“Sire,” replied the grand vizier, “a great many things are
accomplished through the medium of patience; perhaps this may not be
of a nature to be conquered by such means; but your majesty will not
have to reproach yourself with being too precipitate, if you consent
to allow the prince another year to form his determination. If,
during this interval, he does not return to his duty, you will have
a much greater satisfaction in the consciousness of having employed
no method, but that of paternal kindness, to obtain his consent. If,
on the contrary, he persists in his obstinacy, then, when the year
is expired, I think your majesty will be fully justified in
declaring to him, before the whole council, that the good of the
state requires his marriage. It is not possible that he should be
wanting in respect towards you before an assembly of enlightened and
celebrated men, which you honour with your presence.”

The sultan, who so passionately and ardently wished to see his son
married, that so long a delay appeared ages to him, had some
difficulty in consenting to wait so much longer. He, however, was
persuaded by the arguments of the grand vizier, which he could
neither contradict nor disapprove.

When the prime minister had retired, the sultan Schahzaman went to
the apartment of the mother of prince Camaralzaman, to whom he had
long since imparted the ardent desire he had of marrying his son.
When he had related to her the painful disappointment he had just
met with from his second refusal, and also the indulgence he still
intended to grant him by the advice of his grand vizier, he added,
“I know, madam, that he has more confidence in you than in me,
that you converse with him, and that he listens to you with more
familiarity; I entreat you, therefore, to take an opportunity to
speak to him seriously on this subject; and to make him sensible,
that if he persists in his obstinacy, he will oblige me at last to
have recourse to extremities, which I should be sorry to adopt, and
which would make him repent of his disobedience.”

Fatima, for this was the name of the prince’s mother, informed
Camaralzaman, the first time she had any conversation with him, that
she had been acquainted with his fresh refusal to marry, which he
had testified to the sultan; and expressed herself much chagrined at
his having occasioned his father so great a cause for anger.
“Madam,” replied Camaralzaman, “do not, I entreat you, renew
my grief on this affair; I fear, that in my present state of mind, I
might be guilty of saying something disrespectful to you.” Fatima
knew by this answer, that the wound was too recent to continue the
subject; she therefore dropped it for the present.

Some time after this, Fatima thought she had met with an opportunity
of renewing it, and with more prospect of success in obtaining a
hearing. “My son,” said she, “if it be not painful to you,
pray tell me what are the reasons that have given you so great an
aversion to marriage. If you have none stronger than the art and
wickedness of women, believe me, you could not have chosen any more
weak or unreasonable. I will not undertake the defence of artful
women, for that there are numbers of that description, I am well
persuaded; but it is the most flagrant injustice to accuse the whole
sex of this crime. Surely my son, you do not form your opinion from
the few examples which your books mention, and who have, I confess,
occasioned great disorder and confusion in the world; such, I will
not attempt to justify; but why, on the other hand, do not you
remark also, the many monarchs, sultans, and inferior princes, whose
tyranny, barbarity, and cruelty excite the deepest horror in those
histories, which I have read as well as yourself. For one woman, who
has been guilty of such crimes, you will find a thousand of these
barbarians and tyrants. And do you think the poor women who have the
misfortune to be married to these wretches, and who are, perhaps,
good and prudent wives, can be very happy?”

“Madam,” replied Camaralzaman, “I do not doubt, that there is
in the world a great number of prudent, good, and virtuous women, of
gentle dispositions and good morals. Would to God they all resembled
you! But what deters me is the doubtful choice a man is obliged to
make, when marrying; or rather the dread, that he is often deprived
of the liberty of making that choice himself.

“Let us suppose,” continued he, “that I had consented to form
a matrimonial engagement, as the sultan my father so impatiently
wishes; what wife would he give me? a princess, in all probability,
whom he would request of some neighbouring prince, and who would, no
doubt, think it a great honor. Handsome or ugly, she must be
received; but even supposing she excels every other princess in
beauty, who can ensure that her mind will be equal to her person?
That she will be gentle, obliging, affable, and engaging? that her
conversation will not be frivolous; of dress, of ornaments, of
appearance, and a thousand other trifles, which must create contempt
in a man of good sense? In a word, that she is not proud, haughty,
irascible, disdainful, and one who will ruin a whole kingdom by her
frivolous expenses in dresses, jewels, trinkets, or in tasteless and
empty magnificence.

“Now you see, madam, on one subject only, how many things there
are to give rise to my antipathy to matrimony; but even if this
princess be so perfect and so accomplished, that she is
irreproachable on all these points, I have a great number of reasons
still stronger than any I have expressed, to make me continue in the
same opinion, and adhere to my resolution.”

“What, my son!” exclaimed Fatima, “can you add more objections
to those you have already stated? I was going to answer you, and
refute your arguments with one word.”--“That need not prevent
you, madam,” replied the prince, “I shall probably have some
reply to make to your answers.”

“I was going to say, my son,” resumed Fatima, “that it is easy
for a prince, who should have the misfortune to marry a princess,
such as you describe, to leave her, and also to adopt such measures
as might prevent her ruining the state.”

“Well, madam,” said prince Camaralzaman, “and do you not
consider what a cruel mortification it must be to a prince to be
under the necessity of having recourse to such extremities? Is it
not much better both for his peace of mind, and for his reputation,
not to expose himself to it?”

“But, my son,” replied Fatima, “from the way you treat this
matter, I conclude that you intend to be the last king of the race
from which you are descended; and which has so gloriously filled the
throne of the island of the children of Khaledan.”

“Madam,” continued the prince, “I have no wish of surviving
the king my father. Even should I die before him, he ought not to be
surprised, since there are so many examples of children dying before
their parents. But it is always glorious for a race of kings to
finish with a prince so worthy of being a sovereign as I should
endeavour to be, by imitating my predecessors and him, with whom the
line began.”

After this, Fatima frequently had conversations of the same nature
with the prince, her son: and she left no means untried, by which
she hoped to eradicate his aversion. But he confuted all the reasons
she could produce, by others equally strong, to which she knew not
what to reply; and he remained unshaken in his determination.

The year passed on, and prince Camaralzaman, to the great regret of
the sultan Schahzaman, did not show the least appearance of having
altered his sentiments. At length one day, when the grand council
met, and the first vizier, the other viziers, the principal officers
of the crown, and the generals of the army were assembled, the
sultan thus addressed the prince: “It is now a long time, my son,
since I expressed to you the anxious desire I have of seeing you
married: and I expected from you a greater attention to the wishes
of a father who required of you nothing but what was reasonable.
After so long a resistance on your part, which has entirely
exhausted my patience, I now repeat the same thing to you, in the
presence of my council. It is not only, that by persisting in your
refusal, you disoblige your father, but the welfare of my dominions
requires your compliance, and all these nobles join with me in
requesting it. Declare your sentiments before them, that from the
answer you make me, I may know what measures to adopt.

Prince Camaralzaman answered with so little temper, or rather with
so much warmth, that the sultan, justly irritated by the behaviour
of his son before the full council, exclaimed, “What, undutiful
son! have you the insolence to speak thus to your father and your
sultan?” He immediately ordered him to be arrested by the officers
present, and to be conducted to an ancient tower which had been long
neglected, where he was confined, with only a bed and very little
furniture, a few books, and one slave to attend him.

Camaralzaman, satisfied with having the liberty of amusing himself
with his books, looked on his imprisonment with indifference.
Towards evening, he washed himself, repeated his prayers, and after
having read some chapters in the Koran with the same tranquillity as
if he had been in his own apartment in the palace of the sultan, he
lay down without extinguishing his lamp, which he left by his
bed’s side, and fell asleep.

In this tower there was a well, which, during the day, formed a
retreat for a fairy, called Maimounè, the daughter of Damriat, the
king or chief of a legion of Genii. It was about midnight when
Maimounè lightly darted to the top of the well, to prepare for her
nightly excursion, as was her usual custom, and wander about the
world, wherever curiosity might lead her. She was much surprised to
see a light in the chamber of Camaralzaman. She entered it; and
without being stopped by the slave, who was stationed at the door,
she approached the bed, the magnificence of which attracted her
attention, but her surprise was much increased, at observing that
somebody was in it.

Camaralzaman’s face was half concealed by the covering of the bed.
Maimounè raised it a little, and beheld the handsomest youth she
had ever seen in any part of the habitable world, through all of
which she had frequently traversed. “What brilliancy,” said she
to herself, “or rather what a prodigy of beauty must those eyes
display, when no longer concealed, as they now are, by such
well-formed eye-lids! What cause can he have given to be treated in
a manner so unworthy of his rank?” for she had already heard of
his disgrace, and did not doubt who it was.

Maimounè could not cease admiring the beauty of prince
Camaralzaman; at length, however, having gently kissed him on the
cheek, and on the middle of his forehead, without waking him, she
replaced the covering as it was before, and took her flight through
the air. When she had risen very high towards the middle region, she
was suddenly struck with the sound of wings, which inclined her to
fly to the quarter from whence it came. On approaching she found it
to be a Genius, who occasioned the noise; but one of those who had
rebelled against God. Maimounè was, on the contrary, one of those,
whom the great Solomon had compelled to acknowledge his power.

This Genius, who was named Danhasch, and who was the son of
Schamhourasch, recognised Maimounè, though not without very great
terror. In fact, he knew that she possessed considerable superiority
over him, in consequence of her submission to God. He would fain,
therefore, have avoided this meeting, but he found he was so close
to her, that he must either encounter a battle, or submit.

Danhasch was the first to speak; “Good Maimounè,” said he, in a
supplicating tone, “swear to me, by the great name of God, that
you will not hurt me, and I promise you on my part not to annoy
you.”

“Cursed Genius,” cried Maimounè, “what harm canst thou do to
me? I fear thee not. But I will grant thee this favor, and I make
the oath thou requirest. Now tell me whence thou comest, what thou
hast seen, and what thou hast done this night?”--“Beautiful
lady,” replied Danhasch, “we meet opportunely for you to hear
something wonderful. Since you wish it, I will tell you that I come
from the extremity of China, where its coast overlooks the farthest
islands of this hemisphere. But, charming Maimounè,” interrupted
Danhasch, who trembled with fear in the presence of this fairy, and
had some difficulty in speaking before her, “you promise at least
to forgive me, and to permit me to depart, when I shall have
satisfied your curiosity?”

“Go on, go on, wretch,” replied Maimounè, “and fear nothing.
Dost thou think I am as perfidious as thyself, and that I am capable
of breaking the terrible oath I have taken? take care only to relate
nothing but what is true; otherwise I will cut thy wings, and shall
treat thee as thou deservest.”

Danhasch felt a little relieved by these words of Maimounè; “my
dear lady,” continued he, “I will tell you nothing but what is
very true; have but the goodness to listen to me. The country of
China, from whence I come, is one of the largest and most powerful
kingdoms in the world; and attached to it are the most extreme isles
of this hemisphere, of which I spoke just now. The present king is
named Gaiour, who has an only daughter, the most beautiful creature
that ever was beheld on earth, since this world has been a world.
Neither you, nor I, nor the genii of your party, nor of mine, nor
all mankind put together, can find proper terms, words sufficiently
expressive, or eloquence suited to convey the most distant idea of
what she is in reality. Her hair is of a fine brown, and of such a
length, that it reaches below her feet, and in such abundance, that
when she wears it in curls on her head, it resembles a fine bunch of
grapes, of which the fruit is of an extraordinary size. Under her
hair appears her well-formed forehead, as smooth as the finest
polished mirror; her eyes even with it, a brilliant black, and full
of fire; the nose, neither too long nor too short; the mouth small
and tinted with vermillion; her teeth are like two rows of pearls,
which surpass the finest in whiteness; and when she opens her mouth
to speak, she utters a sweet and agreeable voice, and expresses
herself in words which prove the liveliness of her wit. The most
beautiful alabaster is not whiter than her bosom. In short, by this
feeble sketch, you may easily suppose, that there is not a more
perfect beauty in the world.

“Whoever is not well acquainted with the king her father would
imagine, from the various proofs of affection he is continually
giving her, that he is enamoured of her. The most tender lover was
never known to do so much for the most beloved mistress, as he has
done for his daughter. In fact, the most violent jealousy never
invented so much, as his care to render her inaccessible to every
one, except the fortunate person who is destined to marry her; and
that she might not feel the retreat irksome, to which he has
confined her, he has had seven palaces built for her, which surpass
in magnificence every thing that was ever heard of.

“The first palace is composed of rock crystal, the second of
bronze, the third of the finest steel, the fourth of another kind of
bronze, more precious than either the first or steel, the fifth of
touchstone, the sixth of silver, and the seventh of massive gold. He
has furnished them in the most sumptuous style, each in a manner
appropriate to the materials of which it is built. Nor has he
forgotten to embellish the gardens, which are attached to them, with
every thing that can delight the senses; smooth lawns, or pastures
enamelled with flowers; fountains, canals, cascades; groves thickly
planted with trees, through which the rays of the sun never
penetrate, and all differently disposed in each garden. In short,
King Gaiour’s paternal love alone has induced him to incur this
enormous expence.

“The fame of this princess’s incomparable beauty has induced the
most powerful of the neighbouring kings to demand her in marriage by
the most solemn embassies. The King of China received all their
proposals with the same degree of ceremony; but as he had determined
not to marry the princess except with her own entire consent; and as
she did not approve of any of the offers made her, the ambassadors
returned unsuccessful with respect to the purport of their mission,
yet all highly gratified by the civilities and attentions they had
received.

“Sire,” would the princess say to the king of China, “you wish
to marry me, and you think by so doing to make me happy. I know your
motive, and feel obliged to you for your kindness. But where should
I find such superb palaces and such delicious gardens, unless in the
territories of your majesty? Added to which, by your goodness, I am
under no restraint, and I receive the same honors as are paid to
your own person. These are advantages which I should not enjoy in
any other part of the world, whatever prince I might be united to.
Husbands ever will be masters, and I am not of a disposition to
brook command.”

“After several fruitless embassies, one at last arrived from a
king, who was richer and more powerful than any who had before
applied. The king of China proposed him to his daughter, and
enlarged on all the advantages which would result from such an
alliance. The princess entreated him to dispense with her
compliance, urging the same reasons as on former occasions.

“He pressed her to accede; but instead of obeying, she forgot the
respect due to the king, her father, and angrily replied, ‘Sire,
speak to me no more of this, nor of any other marriage; if you
persist in your importunities, I will plunge a dagger in my heart,
and thus free myself from them.’

“The king of China, extremely irritated against the princess,
replied, ‘My daughter, you are mad, and as such I must treat
you.’ In fact, he had her confined to an apartment in one of his
palaces, and allowed her only ten old women to associate with and
attend on her, the principal of whom was her nurse. Then, that the
neighbouring kings, who had sent embassies to request her, might not
entertain any farther prospects of obtaining her, he dispatched
envoys to announce to them all her absolute determination against
marriage. And as he supposed that she really had lost her senses, he
commanded the same envoys to make known in each court, that, if
there were any physician sufficiently skilful to restore her, he
should obtain her in marriage as a recompense.

“Beautiful Maimounè,” continued Danhasch, “things are at
present in this situation, and I do not fail to go regularly every
day to contemplate this wonderful beauty, whom I should grieve to
injure in the slightest degree, notwithstanding my natural malicious
inclinations. I entreat you to come and see her; it is well worth
the trouble. When you are convinced by your own eyes that I do not
tell an untruth, I am sure you will feel obliged to me for having
shown you a princess, who has no equal in beauty. I am ready to
conduct you to her, and you have only to command.”

Instead of replying to Danhasch, Maimounè burst into a loud fit of
laughter, which continued for some time, and which very much
astonished Danhasch, who did not know to what cause to attribute it.
Having at last however composed herself, she said, “Yes, yes, thou
thinkest to impose on me. I thought thou wast going to tell me of
something very surprising and extraordinary, and thou talkest to me
only of a blear-eyed wench. Fye, fye! What wouldst thou say then,
wretch, if thou hadst seen the beautiful prince I have just been
looking at, and whom I love as he deserves? He indeed is rather
different. Thou wouldst be mad for love of him.

“Amiable Maimounè,” replied Danhasch, “may I inquire who this
prince can be, whom you speak of?”--“Know,” said the fairy,
“that nearly the same thing has happened to him as to the princess
thou hast been talking of. The king his father would marry him by
force; after long and repeated importunities he has frankly
declared, that he would not agree to it. For this reason he is at
this moment imprisoned in an ancient tower, where I take up my
abode, and where I have had an opportunity of admiring him.”

“I will not absolutely contradict you,” resumed Danhasch,
“but, my dear lady, you will give me leave, until I have seen your
prince, to think, that no mortal, either male or female, can equal,
or even approach the beauty of my princess.”--“Peace, wretch,”
replied Maimounè, “I tell thee again that thou art
wrong.”--“I will not obstinately oppose you,” added Danhasch;
“the only means of convincing you whether I speak truth or not, is
to accept the proposal I have made you to come and see my princess,
and afterwards to show me your prince.”--“There is no occasion
for me to take so much trouble,” said Maimounè, “there is
another method, by which we can both be satisfied; that is to bring
thy princess and place her by the side of my prince on his bed. We
can then easily compare them with each other, and thus settle our
dispute.”

Danhasch consented to do as the fairy desired, and was going
instantly to set off for China, but Maimounè stopped him;
“Stay,” said she, “come with me first, that I may show thee
the tower where thou art to bring thy princess.” They flew
together to the tower, and when Maimounè had shown it to Danhasch,
she said, “Now go and fetch thy princess; be quick, and thou wilt
find me here. But listen, I intend thou shalt pay me a forfeit if my
prince turns out to be handsomer than thy princess. I will also pay
thee one, if thy princess is the most beautiful.”

Danhasch, having quitted the Fairy, flew to China, and returned with
inconceivable swiftness, bearing the beautiful princess along with
him fast asleep. Maimounè received her, and introduced her into the
chamber of prince Camaralzaman, where they placed her on the bed by
his side.

When the prince and princess were thus close to each other, a grand
contest arose on the pre-eminence of their beauty, between the
Genius and the Fairy. They stood for some time admiring and
comparing them in silence. Danhasch was the first to speak: “Now
you are convinced,” said he to Maimounè, “I told you that my
princess was more beautiful than your prince. Have you any doubts
remaining?”

“How! any doubts?” cried Maimounè, “Yes, truly I doubt it.
Thou must be blind not to see, that my prince is infinitely superior
to thy princess. She is beautiful, I confess; but do not hurry
thyself: compare them well one with the other, without prejudice,
and then thou wilt see that it is as I say.”

“Were I to compare them for any length of time,” replied
Danhasch, “I should think no otherwise than I do. I saw what I now
see from the first glance, and time would show me no more than what
is now visible to my eyes. This, however, will not prevent me from
giving up my judgment to yours, charming Maimounè, if you wish
it.”--“It shall not be so,” interrupted the Fairy. “I will
never suffer a cursed Genius, such as thou art, to show me favor. I
will submit the contest to an arbitrator, and if thou dost not
consent, I win the cause by your refusal.”

Danhasch, who was ready to show any degree of complaisance to
Maimounè, had no sooner consented, than the fairy struck the ground
with her foot. The earth opened, and instantly a hideous Genius
appeared, who was hunchbacked, lame, and blind with one eye; having
six horns on his head, and his hands and feet hooked. As soon as he
was out, and the ground had closed again, he perceived Maimounè,
and threw himself at her feet; and kneeling on one knee, he asked
what she desired of his very humble services.

“Rise, Caschcasch,” said she, for this was the name of the
Genius, “I sent for you hither to be judge in a dispute, which
exists between me and this cursed Danhasch. Cast your eye on that
bed, and tell us impartially, which appears to you the most
beautiful, the young man, or the young lady?”

Caschcasch looked very attentively at the prince and princess, and
showed every mark of great surprise and admiration. After having
examined them very accurately for a long time, without being able to
make up his mind; “Madam,” said he to Maimounè, “I confess to
you, that I should deceive you, and betray myself, if I were to tell
you, that I thought one of them more handsome than the other. The
more I examine them, the more each seems to me to have separately
that sovereign perfection of beauty which they jointly possess: and
neither has the least defect, which we can assert the other to be
free from, and consequently superior. If there be, in truth, any
difference between them, there seems to be only one mode of
discovering that difference. And this mode is, to wake them one
after the other, and to agree, that the person who feels for the
other the most violent love, and proves it by the strongest and most
ardent expressions, as well as by the general conduct, shall be
considered in some point or other to be less beautiful.”

The proposal of Caschcasch was approved of, both by Maimounè and
Danhasch. Maimounè then changed herself into a flea, and jumped
upon the neck of Camaralzaman. She gave him so sharp a bite, that he
awoke, and put his hand to the place, but he caught nothing, for
Maimounè, prepared for this, had jumped away, and taking her
original form, invisible, however, like the other two Genii, to all
but themselves, stood by in order to witness what was going forward.

In drawing back his hand, the prince let it fall upon that of the
princess of China. He opened his eyes and expressed great surprise
at seeing a lady by the side of him; and one, too, who possessed
such beauty. He lifted his head up and supported it on his elbow, in
order the better to observe her. The great youth of the princess,
joined to her incomparable beauty, kindled in an instant a flame in
his heart, to which he had hitherto been a stranger, and excited
sensations which he had till now looked upon with aversion.

A passion of the most animated kind now occupied his soul; and he
could not help exclaiming, “What beauty! what charms! Oh my heart,
my soul,” and saying this, he kissed her forehead, her cheeks, and
her lips, with so little precaution, that it must have broken her
slumbers, if she had not, through the enchantment of Danhasch, slept
more soundly than usual.

“What, my beautiful creature,” said the prince, “will not
these marks of the love of Camaralzaman disturb your repose? Whoever
you may be, he is not unworthy of your affection.” He was then
going to wake her in good earnest, but he suddenly stopped himself,
“There cannot be a doubt,” he exclaimed, “but that this is the
person to whom the sultan, my father, wished to marry me. He has
been much to blame, not to let me see her sooner; I should not then
have offended him, both by my disobedience, and my public behaviour
towards him; and he would thus have spared himself the contusion
which I have caused him.” Prince Camaralzaman repented most
heartily of the fault he had been guilty of; and was again upon the
point of waking the princess of China, “perhaps indeed,” added
he, “the sultan, my father, wished to surprise me; and has
therefore sent this lady to ascertain whether I really have so great
an aversion to marriage as I have always shown. Who knows if he may
not have brought her here himself, and may even now be concealed, in
order to see how I conduct myself, and make me ashamed of my former
dissimulation. This second fault would be much worse than my first;
I will therefore satisfy myself with this ring in remembrance of
her.”

The princess of China had a very beautiful ring on her finger; and
as the prince concluded his speech, he drew it quietly, and put one
of its own in its place. He then turned his back, and it was not
long before, through the enchantment of the Genii, he fell into as
deep a sleep as he was in at first.

As soon as prince Camaralzaman’s eyes were completely closed,
Danhasch, in his turn, transformed himself into a flea, and bit the
princess directly under her lip. She awoke suddenly, and starting up
opened her eyes: how great was her astonishment at finding herself
in bed with a man. From surprise, she passed to admiration; and from
admiration to excess of joy, which was very apparent as soon as she
saw that it was a young, handsome, and well-made man.

“What!” she exclaimed, “are you the person, whom the king, my
father, has destined for my husband? How unfortunate am I at not
having known this before! I should then never have been deprived for
so long a time of a husband, whom it is impossible not to love with
my whole soul. Awake, and rouse yourself; it but ill becomes a
husband to sleep thus soundly on the very first night of his
nuptials.”

Having said this, the princess shook prince Camaralzaman by the arm
in so violent a manner, that he must have awoke, if Maimounè had
not at that very instant heightened his sleep by means of
enchantment. She shook him in this manner several times; then, as
she found she could not prevent him from sleeping, she called out,
“What can possibly have happened to you? What rival, jealous of
our mutual happiness, has had recourse to magic; and thus thrown you
into this insurmountable fit of stupefaction, from whence it seems
almost impossible you should ever be roused.” She then took hold
of his hand, and tenderly kissing it, she perceived the ring which
he had on his finger. It appeared so like her own, that she was
convinced it was the very same; and at the same moment observed,
that she herself had on a different one. She could not comprehend
how this exchange had been effected; but she did not for an instant
doubt, that it was a sure proof of her marriage. Fatigued with the
useless efforts she had made to wake him; and satisfied, as she
thought, that he could not leave her; “Since I am unable to rouse
you out of your sleep,” she cried, “I will continue no longer to
attempt to interrupt it. We shall see each other again.” Then
kissing his cheek as she pronounced these last words, she lay down,
and in a short time fell asleep.”

When Maimounè perceived that she might speak without any danger of
waking the princess of China; “Well, wretch,” she said to
Danhasch, “hast thou observed, then, and art thou convinced, that
thy princess is less beautiful than my prince? Get along, I forgive
thee the wager thou hast lost; but another time, believe me, when I
assert any thing.” Then turning towards Caschcasch, “As for
you,” added she, “I thank you. Do you and Danhasch take the
princess, and carry her to her bed, where he brought her from.”
Danhasch and Caschcasch executed the orders of Maimounè, while the
latter retired to her well.

When prince Camaralzaman awoke the next morning, he looked on each
side of him to see if the lady, whom he had found by him in the
night, was still there; but when he perceived she was gone, he said
to himself, “It is as I suspected; the king, my father, wished to
surprise me: I am, however, happy that I was aware of it.” He then
called the slave, who was still asleep, and desired him to make
haste and dress himself, without saying a word to him on what
account he was in such a hurry. The slave brought a bason and water;
the prince then washed himself, and after saying his prayers, he
took a book and continued to read for some time.

After he had thus finished his usual occupations, Camaralzaman
called the slave towards him, “Come here,” he said, “and be
sure you do not tell me a falsehood. Inform me how the lady, who
slept with me last night, came here, and who brought her.”

“Prince,” replied the slave, in the greatest astonishment, “of
what lady are you speaking?”--“Of her, I tell you,” answered
the prince, “who either came or was brought here, and who passed
the night with me.”--“Prince,” returned the slave, “I swear
to you, that I know nothing about the matter. How could any lady
possibly get in, as I slept at the door?”--“Thou art a lying
rascal,” replied the prince, “and art in league with some one to
vex and distress me.” Saying this he gave him a blow, and knocked
him down; then, after having trampled on him, he tied the rope of
the well round his body, and let him down into it, and plunged him
several times in the water: “I will drown thee,” cried he, “if
thou dost not immediately acquaint me who the lady is, and who
brought her.”

The poor slave extremely embarrassed, and half in and half out of
the water, thought the prince had certainly lost his senses through
grief, and that he could only escape by telling an untruth.
“Prince,” said he, in a supplicating tone, “grant me my life,
I conjure you, and I promise to tell you exactly how the matter
stands.”

The prince drew up the slave, and commanded him to speak. When he
was out of the well, “Prince,” said the slave, trembling, “You
must be sensible that I cannot satisfy you in the state I am now in;
allow me time to change my dress.”--“I grant it thee,” replied
the prince, “but be quick; and take care thou dost not disguise
the truth from me.”

The slave went out, and after having fastened the door on the
prince, he ran to the palace, wet as he was. The king was engaged in
conversation with his grand vizier; and was complaining of the
restless night he had passed in consequence of the disobedience and
ill-judged rashness of the prince his son, in thus opposing his will.

The minister endeavoured to console him, and convince him, that the
prince, by his disrespectful behaviour, had justly merited the
punishment he endured; “Sire,” said he, “your majesty ought
not to repent of having arrested him. If you will have the patience
to suffer him to remain in prison, you may be assured that he will
lose this youthful impetuosity, and that he will at length submit to
whatever you may require of him.”

The grand vizier had just uttered these words, when the slave
presented himself before king Schahzaman: “Sire,” said he, “I
am sorry to be obliged to announce to your majesty a piece of
intelligence that will no doubt occasion you great sorrow. What the
prince says of a lady, who slept with him last night, together with
the manner in which he treated me, as your majesty may perceive, too
plainly prove that he is not in his senses.” He then gave a detail
of every thing that prince Camaralzaman had said, and of the
excesses he had committed on his person, in terms which confirmed
the truth of the account.

The king, who was not prepared for this new cause for affliction,
exclaimed to the grand vizier, “This is, indeed, an incident of
the most distressing nature, and very different from the hopes you
flattered me with just now. Go, lose not a moment, and examine
yourself the whole of this affair, and then come and inform me of
what you discover.” The grand vizier immediately obeyed. When he
entered the chamber of the prince, he found him seated with a book
in his hand, which he was reading with apparent composure. He
saluted him: and seating himself by his side, “I am very angry
with the slave that attends you,” said he, “for having alarmed
your father by the intelligence he has just now brought
him.”--“What is this intelligence,” inquired the prince,
“that has occasioned my father so much alarm? I have much more
reason to complain of my slave.”

“Prince,” replied the vizier, “Heaven avert that what he has
just said of you be true! The tranquil state in which I find you,
and in which may God preserve you, convinces me there is no truth in
his report.”--“Perhaps,” replied the prince, “he has not
explained himself properly; but as you are here, I am glad to have
an opportunity of asking you, who must know something about the
matter, where the lady is who slept with me last night.”

The grand vizier was quite astonished at this inquiry. “Prince,”
said he, “do not be surprised at the astonishment you see me in at
this question. How can it be possible, not only that any lady, but
that any man whatever, could have penetrated into this place in the
night, to which there is no other entrance but by the door, and even
then he must trample over your slave, who was guarding it? I entreat
you to collect your thoughts, and I am persuaded you will find it is
only a dream that has left a strong impression on your mind.”

“I shall pay no attention to your arguments,” resumed the
prince, in a more elevated tone of voice: “I will absolutely know
what is become of this lady; I am here in a situation to make you
obey me.” This firmness of speech and manner embarrassed the grand
vizier more than can be expressed; and he now only thought of the
best means to extricate himself. He tried the prince with gentle
means, and asked him, in the most humble and conciliating manner, if
he had himself seen the lady.

“Yes, yes,” replied the prince, “I saw her, and soon perceived
that you had instructed her in ways to tempt me. She played the part
you allotted her vastly well; not to say a word, to pretend to
sleep, and to take herself away, as soon as I fell asleep again. You
know it all, I dare say; she has not failed giving you an account of
the whole transaction.”--“Prince,” resumed the grand vizier,
“I swear to you, that all you have been relating was unknown to
me, and that neither the king, your father, nor I, sent you the lady
you mention; we should never have had such an idea. Allow me once
more to say, that this lady could only appear to you in a dream.”

“You come to mock me too,” cried the prince angrily, “and to
tell me that what I have seen was only a dream!” He then seized
him by the beard, and beat him most unmercifully, till his strength
quite failed him. The poor grand vizier bore all this treatment from
prince Camaralzaman very respectfully. “Here am I,” said he to
himself, “precisely in the same situation as the slave; happy
shall I be, if, like him, I can escape from so great a danger.”’
While the prince was still employed in beating him, he cried, “I
entreat you, prince, to listen to me for one moment.” The prince,
tired of this occupation, suffered him to speak.

“I own to you, prince,” said the grand vizier, as soon as he had
liberty to speak, “that your suspicions are not unfounded; but you
well know, that a minister is compelled to execute the orders of the
king his master. If you will have the goodness to suffer me to go, I
am ready to take any message to him with which you will entrust
me.”--“I give you leave to go,” replied the prince. “Tell my
father that I will marry the lady whom he sent, or brought me, and
who slept with me last night. Be expeditious, and bring me the
answer.” The grand vizier made a profound reverence on quitting
him; but he could hardly be satisfied of his safety, till he was out
of the tower, and had fastened the door after him. He presented
himself before king Schahzaman with an air of sorrow which alarmed
him. “Well,” said the monarch, “in what state did you find my
son?”--

“Sire,” replied the vizier, “what the slave related to your
majesty is but too true.” He then gave him an account of the
conversation he had had with Camaralzaman, of the rage the prince
had been in, when he attempted to convince him that the lady he
spoke of could not possibly have slept with him, of the cruel
treatment he had met with from him, and of the excuse by which he
had escaped from his fury.

Schahzaman, who was the more grieved at this circumstance, as he had
always loved the prince with the greatest tenderness, wished to
investigate the truth of it himself: he repaired to the tower, and
took the grand vizier with him. Prince Camaralzaman received his
father with the greatest respect. The king sat down, and having made
the prince sit next him, he asked him many questions, to which he
replied with perfect good sense, and from time to time he looked at
the vizier, as if to say, that the prince, his son, was not deranged
in his intellects as he had asserted; but that he must himself be
deficient in this respect.

At length the king mentioned the lady. “My son,” said he, “I
beg you to tell me who this lady is, who they say slept with you
last night.”--“Sire,” replied Camaralzaman, “I entreat your
majesty not to add to the vexation I have already encountered on
this subject; rather do me the favor to bestow her on me in
marriage. Whatever aversion I may hitherto have evinced against
women, this young and beautiful lady has so charmed me, that I feel
no difficulty in avowing my weakness. I am ready to receive her from
your hands, with the deepest sense of my obligation to you.”

King Schahzaman was thunder-struck at this answer from the prince,
which, as it appeared to him, was so inconsistent with the good
sense he had shown in former answers. “You speak to me in a way,
my son,” said he, “that astonishes me beyond measure. I swear to
you, by the crown which is to adorn your brow when I shall be no
more, that I know nothing of the lady you talk of. I have not been
accessary to her visit, if any one has been with you; but, how is it
possible that she should have penetrated into this tower without my
consent? as to what my grand vizier said to you, he only invented a
story to appease you. It must have been a dream; recollect yourself,
I conjure you, and be careful to ascertain the fact.”

“Sire,” resumed the prince, “I should be for ever unworthy of
the goodness of your majesty, if I refused to give faith to the
solemn assurance you have given me; but I request you to have the
patience to listen to me, and then judge, if what I shall have the
honor of relating to you can be a dream.”

Prince Camaralzaman then told the king, his father, in what manner
he had waked in the night. He gave him an exaggerated description of
the beauty and charms of the lady he had found by his side,
confessed the love which had so instantaneously inflamed his breast,
and related all his fruitless endeavours to awaken her. He did not
even conceal what had made him awake; and that he fell asleep again
after he had made the exchange of his ring for that of the lady.
When he concluded, he took the ring from his finger, and presented
it to the king, “Sire,” added he, “mine is not unknown to you,
for you have seen it several times. After this, I hope you will be
convinced that I have not lost my senses, as they would fain
persuade you is the case.”

The king was so fully convinced of the truth of what the prince had
recounted to him, that he had nothing to reply. Added to which, his
astonishment was so excessive, that he remained a considerable time
incapable of uttering a single word.

The prince took advantage from these moments of silent wonder.
“Sire,” continued he, “the passion I feel for this charming
person, whose precious image is so deeply engraven on my heart, has
already risen to so violent a pitch, that I am sure I have not
strength to endure it. I humbly supplicate you to feel compassion
for the state I am in, and to procure me the unspeakable happiness
of possessing and calling her mine.”

“After what I have now heard, my son,” replied king Schahzaman,
“and what I see by this ring, I can no longer doubt the reality of
your love, and that you did absolutely see the lady who gave birth
to it. Would to God I knew her! You should be gratified this very
day, and I should be the happiest of fathers. But where am I to seek
her? How, and by what means, could she enter here, without either my
consent or knowledge? Why did she come only to sleep with you, to
show you her beauty, to inflame you with love while she slept, and
disappear as soon as you fell asleep again? I cannot comprehend this
strange adventure, and if Heaven does not assist us, it will be the
means of reducing both you and me to the grave.” He then took the
prince by the hand, and added, in a mournful accent, “Come, my
son, let us go and mingle our lamentations together; you, for loving
without hope; I, for seeing your affliction, without possessing the
means of relieving it.”

Schahzaman took the prince out of his prison, and conducted him to
the palace, where the prince, quite in despair at feeling so violent
a passion for an unknown lady, instantly took to his bed. The king
shut himself up from all society for several days, to weep with his
son, and desisted entirely from attending to the usual concerns of
his kingdom.

His prime minister, who was the only one to whom he had allowed free
entrance, came one day to represent to him, that his whole court, as
well as the people, began to murmur at not seeing him, as usual,
administering justice, as was his daily custom; and that he would
not be answerable for the discontents and disorders that might arise
in consequence of his seclusion. “I entreat your majesty,”
continued he, “to pay some attention to these complaints. I am
persuaded, that your presence only serves to nourish the affliction
of the prince, as his presence increases yours; but you must not
suffer every thing to go to decay. Allow me to propose to you, to
remove with the prince to the castle on the little island, that is
at a short distance from the port, and to have an audience twice
a-week only. This avocation will oblige you to quit the prince
occasionally, while the beauty of the spot, the delicious air, and
the charming prospects of the surrounding country, will enable him
to support these short absences with more patience.”

The king approved of this advice, and as soon as the castle, which
had not been inhabited for some time, was furnished and prepared for
his reception, he removed thither with the prince, whom he never
left, excepting for the two stipulated audiences. He passed the rest
of the time by the side of his pillow, sometimes endeavouring to
console him, and sometimes sharing his affliction.

While these things were passing in the capital of king Schahzaman,
the two Genii, Danhasch and Caschcasch, had reconducted the princess
of China to the palace, where the king, her father, had confined
her, and placed her in her bed.

The next morning, when she awoke, the princess of China looked about
on each side of her, and when she perceived that prince Camaralzaman
was no longer near her, she called her women, in a voice which made
them all run quickly to her, and surround her. Her nurse approached
her pillow, and asked her what she desired, and if any thing had
befallen her.

“Tell me,” replied the princess, “what is become of the young
man who slept with me last night, and whom I love so
tenderly.”--“My princess,” said the nurse, “we cannot
comprehend your meaning, unless you explain yourself more
clearly.”--“The fact is,” resumed the princess, “that a
young man of the most beautiful and elegant form that can be
conceived, slept by my side last night; I caressed him for a
considerable time, and did all I could to wake him, without effect.
I ask you where he is?”

“No doubt you do this to joke us, my princess,” replied the
nurse; “will you please to rise now?”--“I speak seriously,”
said the princess, “and I will know where he is.”--“But, my
dear princess,” rejoined the nurse, “you were alone when we put
you to bed last night; and no one has entered this place to sleep
with you, at least that we know of.”

The princess of China’s patience was quite exhausted, she seized
her nurse’s head, and gave her repeated slaps and blows. “Thou
shalt tell me, thou old witch,” cried she, “or I will murder
thee.” The nurse exerted herself to get out of her hands; she at
length succeeded, and instantly ran to find the queen of China, the
mother of the princess. She presented herself before her, with tears
in her eyes, and her face swelled and disfigured: this excited great
surprise in the queen, who inquired what was the cause of her being
in such a condition.

“Madam,” said the nurse, “you see the effects of the treatment
I have just received from the princess; she would have destroyed me
entirely if I had not escaped as I did.” She then related to her