THE STORY OF THE BARBER'S SIXTH BROTHER.

I am now only to tell the story of my sixth brother, called Schacabac, with the hare-lips. At first he was industrious enough to improve the hundred drams of silver which fell to his share, and became very well to pass; but a reverse of fortune brought him to beg his bread, which he did with a great deal of dexterity. He studied chiefly to get into great men's houses by means of their servants and officers, that he might have access to their masters, and obtain their charity. One day, as he passed by a magnificent house, whose high gate showed a very spacious court, where there was a multitude of servants, he went to one of them, and asked to whom that house belonged. Good man, replied the servant, whence do you come, that you ask such a question? Does not all that you see make you understand that it is the palace of a Bermecide? [Footnote: The Bermecides were, as has been mentioned, a noble family of persia, who settled at Bagdad.] My brother, who very well knew the liberality and generosity of the Bermecides, addressed himself to one of his porters, (for he had more than one,) and prayed him to give him an alms. Go in, said he; nobody hinders you, and address yourself to the master of the house; he will send you back satisfied.

My brother, who expected no such civility, thanked the porter, and with his permission entered the palace, which was so large, that it took him a considerable time to reach the Bermecide's apartment. At last he came to a fine square building, of excellent architecture, and entered by a porch, through which he saw one of the finest gardens, with gravel-walks of several colours, extremely pleasant to the eye. The lower apartments round this square were most of them open, and shut only with great curtains, to keep out the sun, which were opened again when the heat was over.

Such an agreeable place struck my brother with admiration, and might well have done so to a man far above his quality. He went on till he came into a hall richly furnished, and adorned with paintings of gold and azure foliage, where he saw a venerable man with a long white beard, sitting at the upper end of an alcove, whence he concluded him to be the master of the house; and in effect it was the Bermecide himself, who said to my brother, in a very civil manner, that he was welcome, and asked him what he wanted. My lord, answered my brother, in a begging tone, I am a poor man, who stand in need of the help of such rich and generous persons as yourself. He could not have addressed himself to a fitter person than this lord, who had a thousand good qualities.

The Bermecide seemed to be astonished at my brother's answer; and, putting both his hands to his stomach, as if he would rend his clothes for grief, Is it possible, cried he, that I am at Bagdad, and that such a man as you is so poor as you say? This is what must never be. My brother, fancying that he was going to give him some singular mark of his bounty, blessed him a thousand times, and wished him all sort of happiness. It shall not be said, replied the Bermecide, that I will abandon you, nor will I have you to leave me. Sir, replied my brother, I swear to you I have not swallowed one bit to-day! Is that true? replied the Bermecide; and are you fasting till now? Alas, for thee, poor man! he is ready to die for hunger. Ho, boy! cried he with a loud voice, bring a bason and water presently, that we may wash our hands. Though no boy appeared, that my brother saw, either with water or bason, the Bermecide fell a rubbing his hands, as if one had poured water upon them, and bid my brother come and wash with him. Schacabac judged by this that the Bermecide lord loved to be merry; and he himself understanding raillery, and knowing that the poor must be complaisant to the rich, if they would have any thing, came forward, and did as he did.

Come on, said the Bermecide, bring us something to eat, and do not let us stay for it. When he had said so, though nothing was brought, he cut as if something had been brought upon a plate; and, putting his hand to his mouth, began to chew, and said to my brother, Come, friend, eat as freely as if you were at home; come and eat: you said you were like to die of hunger; but you eat as if you had no stomach. Pardon me, my lord, said Schacabac, who perfectly imitated what he did, you see I lose no time, and that I do my part well enough. How like you this bread? said the Bermecide; do not you find it very good? O, my lord, said, my brother, who neither saw bread nor meat, I never ate any thing so white and so fine. Come, eat your bellyful, said the Bermecide; I assure you the baker-woman that bakes me this bread, cost me five hundred pieces of gold to purchase her.

The Bermecide, after having boasted so much of his bread, which my brother ate only in idea, cried, Boy, bring us another dish. Though no boy appeared, Come, my good friend, said he to my brother, taste this new dish, and tell me if ever you ate better mutton and barley broth than this. It is admirably good, replied my brother, and therefore you see I eat heartily. You oblige me mightily, replied the Bermecide: I conjure you, then, by the satisfaction I have to see you eat so heartily, that you eat all up, since you like it so well. A little while after he called for a goose and sweet sauce, vinegar, honey, dry raisins, grey peas, and dry figs, which were brought just in the same manner as the other was. The goose is very fat, said the Bermecide; eat only a leg and a wing; we must save our stomachs, for we have abundance of other dishes to come. He actually called for several other dishes, of which my brother, who was ready to die of hunger, pretended to eat; but what he boasted of more than all the rest, was a lamb fed with pistacho nuts, which he ordered to be brought up in the same manner that the rest were. Here is a dish, said the Bermecide, that you will see at nobody's table but my own; I would have you eat unsparingly of it. Having spoken thus, he stretched out his hand as if he had a piece of lamb in it, and putting it to my brother's mouth, There, said he, swallow that, and you will know whether I had not reason to boast of this dish. My brother thrust out his head, opened his mouth, and made as if he took the piece of lamb, and ate it with extreme pleasure. I knew you would like it, said the Bermecide. There is nothing in the world more fine, replied my brother; your lamb is a most delicious thing. Come, bring the ragoo presently; I fancy you will like that as well as the lamb. Well, how do you relish it? said the Bermecide. O! it is wonderful! replied Schacabac, for here we taste all at once, amber, cloves, nutmeg, ginger, pepper, and the most odoriferous herbs; and all these tastes are so well mixed, that one does not hinder us from perceiving the other: O how pleasant it is. Honour this ragoo, said the Bermecide, by eating heartily of it, Ho, boy! cried he; bring us a new ragoo. No, my lord, an't please you, replied my brother; for indeed I cannot eat any more.

Come, take it away then, said the Bermecide, and bring the fruit. He staid a moment, as it were, to give time for his servants to carry away; after which, he said to my brother, Taste these almonds; they are fresh and new gathered. Both of them made as if they had peeled the almonds, and ate them. After this, the Bermecide invited my brother to eat something else. Look you, said he, there are all sorts of fruits, cakes, dry sweatmeats, and conserves; take what you like. Then stretching out his hand as if he had reached my brother something, Look, said he, there is a lozenge very good for digestion. Schacabac made as if he ate it, and said, My lord, there is no want of musk here. These lozenges, said the Bermecide, are made in my own house, where there is nothing wanting to make every thing good. He still bade my brother eat, and said to him, Methinks you do not eat as if you had been so hungry as you said when you came in. My lord, replied Schacabac, whose jaws ached with moving and having nothing to eat, I am so full, that I cannot eat one bit more.

Well, then, my friend, replied the Bermecide, we must drink now, after we have eaten so well. You drink wine, my lord, replied my brother; but I will, if you please, drink none, because I am forbidden. You are too scrupulous, replied the Bermecide, do as I do. I will drink then out of complaisance, said Schacabac; for I see you will have nothing wanting to make your treat noble: but, since I am not accustomed to drink wine, I am afraid that I shall commit some error in point of breeding, contrary to the respect that is due to you, and therefore I pray you once more to excuse me from drinking any wine; I will be content with water. No, no, said the Bermecide, you shall drink wine; and at the same time he commanded some to be brought in the same manner as the meat and fruit had been brought before. He made as if he poured out wine, drank first himself, and then pouring out for my brother, presented him the glass: Drink my health, said he, and let me know if you think this wine good. My brother made as if he took the glass, and looked as if the colour was good, and put it to his nose to try if it had a good flavour; he then made a low bow to the Bermecide, to signify that he took the liberty to drink his health, making all the signs of a man who drinks with pleasure: My lord, said he, this is very excellent wine; but I think it is not strong enough. If you would have stronger, said the Bermecide, you need only speak, for I have several sorts in my cellar; try how you like this; upon which he made as if he poured out another glass to himself, and then to my brother; and did this so often, that Schacabac, feigning to be drunk with the wine, took up his hand, and gave the Bermecide such a box on the ear as made him fall down; he lifted up his hand to give him another blow; but the Bermecide, holding up his hand to ward it off, cried to him, What! are you mad? Then my brother, making as if he had come to himself again, said, My lord, you have been so good as to admit your slave into your house, and give him a great treat; you should have been satisfied in making me eat, and not have obliged me to drink wine; for I told you beforehand that it might occasion me to come short in my respect: I am very much troubled at it, and beg you a thousand pardons. He had scarcely finished these words, when the Bermecide, instead of being in a rage, fell a laughing with all his might. It is a long time, said he, since I wished a man of your character.

The Bermecide caressed Schacabac mightily, and told him, I not only forgive the blow you have given me, but am willing henceforward we should be friends; and that you take my house for your home: you have been so complaisant as to accommodate yourself to my humour, and have had the patience to bear the jest out to the last; we will now eat in good earnest. When he had finished these words, he clapped his hands, and commanded his servants, who then appeared, to cover the table; which was speedily done, and my brother was treated with all those viands in reality which he ate of before in fancy. At last they took them away, and brought wine; and at the same time a number of handsome slaves, richly apparelled, came in and sung some agreeable airs to their musical instruments. In a word, Schacabac had all the reason in the world to be satisfied with the Bermecide's civility and bounty; for he treated him as his familiar friend, and ordered him a suit out of his wardrobe.

The Bermecide found my brother to be a man of so much wit and understanding, that in a few days after he trusted him with his household, and all his affairs. My brother acquitted himself very well in that employment for twenty years, at the end of which the generous Bermecide died, and, leaving no heirs, all his estate was confiscated to the use of the prince; upon which my brother was reduced to his first condition, and joined a caravan of pilgrims going to Mecca, designing to accomplish that pilgrimage upon their charity; but by misfortune the caravan was attacked and plundered by a number of Beduins [Footnote: Vagabond Arabians, who wander in the deserts, and plunder the caravans when they are not strong enough to resist them.] superior to that of the pilgrims. My brother was then taken as a slave by one of the Beduins, who put him under the bastinado for several days, to oblige him to ransom himself. Schacabac protested to him that it was all in vain. I am your slave, said he, you may dispose of me as you please: but I declare unto you that I am extremely poor, and not able to redeem myself. In a word, my brother discovered to him all his misfortunes, and endeavoured to soften him with tears; but the Beduin had no mercy; and, being vexed to find himself disappointed of a considerable sum, which he reckoned he was sure of, he took his knife, and slit my brother's lips, to avenge himself, by this inhumanity, for the loss that he imagined he had sustained.

The Beduin had a handsome wife; and frequently, when he went on his courses, he left my brother alone with her, and then she used all her endeavours to comfort my brother under the rigour of his slavery: she gave him tokens enough that she loved him; but he durst not yield to her passion, for fear he should repent it, and therefore he shunned to be alone with her, as much as she sought the opportunity to be alone with him. She had so great a custom of toying and jesting with the miserable Schacabac, whenever she saw him, that one day she happened to do it in presence of her husband. My brother, without taking notice that he observed them, (so his stars would have it) jested likewise with her. The Beduin, immediately supposing that they lived together in a criminal manner, fell upon my brother in a rage, and after he had mangled him in a barbarous manner, he carried him on a camel to the top of a desert mountain, where he left him. The mountain was on the way to Bagdad, so that the passengers who passed that road gave me an account of the place where he was. I went thither speedily, where I found the unfortunate Schacabac in a deplorable condition: I gave him what help he stood in need of, and brought him back to the city.

This is what I told the caliph, added the barber; that prince applauded me with new fits of laughter. Now, said he, I cannot doubt that they justly gave you the surname of Silent; nobody can say the contrary. For certain reasons, however, I command you to depart this town immediately, and let me hear no more of your discourse. I yielded to necessity, and went to travel several years in far countries. I understood at last that the caliph was dead, and returned to Bagdad, where I found not one of my brethren alive. It was on my return to this town that I did the important service to the same young man which you have heard. You are, however, witness of his ingratitude, and of the injurious manner in which he treated me. Instead of testifying his acknowledgments, he chose rather to fly from me, and to leave his own country. When I understood that he was not at Bagdad, though nobody could tell me truly whither he was gone, yet I did not forbear to go and seek him. I travelled from province to province a long time; and when I had given over all hopes, I met him this day; but I did not think to find him so incensed against me.

The tailor made an end of telling the sultan of Casgar the history of the lame young man, and the barber of Bagdad, after that manner I had the honour to tell your majesty.

When the barber, continued he, had finished his story, we found that the young man was not to blame for calling him a great prattler. However, we were pleased that he would stay with us, and par take of the treat which the master of the house had prepared for us. We sat down to table, and were merry together till afternoon prayers; then all the company parted, and I went to my shop, till it was time for me to return home.

It was during this interval that Hump-back came half drunk before my shop, where he sung and taboured. I thought that, by carrying him home with me, I should divert my wife; therefore I brought him along. My wife gave us a dish of fish, and I presented Hump-back with some, which he ate without taking notice of a bone. He fell down dead before us; and, after having in vain essayed to help him, in the trouble occasioned us by such an unlucky accident, and through the fear of punishment, we carried the corpse out, and dexterously lodged it with the Jewish doctor. The Jewish doctor put it into the chamber of the purveyor, and the purveyor carried it forth into the street, where it was believed the merchant had killed him. This, sir, added the tailor, is what I had to say to satisfy your majesty, who must pronounce whether we be worthy of mercy or wrath, life or death.

The sultan of Casgar looked with a contented air, and gave the tailor and his comrades their lives. I cannot but acknowledge, said he, that I am more amazed at the history of the young cripple, at that of the barber, and at the adventures of his brothers, than at the story of my jester; but before I send you all four away, and before we bury Hump, I would see the barber, who is the cause that I have pardoned you. Since he is in my capital, it is easy to satisfy my curiosity. At the same time he sent a serjeant with the tailor to find him.

The serjeant and the tailor went immediately, and brought the barber, whom they presented to the sultan. The barber was an old man of ninety years; his eye-brows and beard were as white as snow, his ears hung down, and he had a very long nose. The sultan could not forbear laughing when he saw him. Silent man, said he to him, I understand that you know wonderful stories; will you tell me some of them? Sir, answered the barber, let us forbear the stories, if you please, at present. I most humbly beg your majesty to permit me to ask what that Christian, that Jew, that Mussulman, and that dead Hump-back, who lies on the ground, do here before your majesty. The sultan smiled at the barber's liberty, and replied, Why do you ask? Sir, replied the barber, it concerns me to ask, that your majesty may know that I am not so great a talker as some pretend, but a man justly called Silent.

The sultan of Casgar was so complaisant as to satisfy the barber's curiosity. He commanded them to tell him the story of the Hump-back, which he earnestly wished for. When the barber heard it, he shook his head, as if he would say, there was something under this which he did not understand. Truly, cried he, this is a surprising story; but I am willing to examine Hump-back a little closely. He drew near him, sat down on the ground, put his head between his knees, and after he had looked upon him steadfastly, he fell into so great a fit of laughter, and had so little command of himself, that he fell backwards on the ground, without considering that he was before the sultan of Casgar. As soon as he came to himself, It is said, cried he, and without reason, that no man dies without a cause. If ever any history deserved to be written in letters of gold, it is this of Hump-back.

At this all the people looked on the barber as a buffoon, or a doting old man. Silent man, said the sultan, speak to me; why do you laugh so hard? Sir, answered the barber, I swear by your majesty's good humour that Hump-back is not dead! he is yet alive; and I shall be willing to pass for a madman, if I do not let you sec it this minute. Having said these words, he took a box, wherein he had several medicines, that he carried about to make use of on occasion; and took out a phial with balsam, with which he rubbed Hump-back's neck a long time; then he took out of his case a neat iron instrument, which he put betwixt his teeth, and, after he had opened his mouth, he thrust down his throat a pair of pincers, with which he took out a bit offish and bone, which he showed to all the people. Immediately Hump-back sneezed, stretched forth his arms and feet, and gave several other signs of life.

The sultan of Casgar, and those with him, who were witnesses to this operation, were less surprised to see Hump-back revive, after he had passed a whole night and great part of a day without giving any signs of life, than at the merit and capacity of the barber who performed this; and, notwithstanding all his faults, began to look upon him as a great person. The sultan, ravished with joy and admiration, ordered the story of Hump-back to be recorded, with that of the barber, that the memory of it might, as it deserved, be preserved for ever. Nor did he stop here; but that the tailor, Jewish doctor, purveyor, and Christian merchant, might remember, with pleasure, the adventure which the accident of Hump-back had occasioned to them, he did not send them away till he had given each of them a very rich robe, with which he caused them to be clothed in his presence. As for the barber, he honoured him with a great pension, and kept him near his person.

Thus the sultaness finished this long train of adventures, to which the pretended death of Hump-back gave occasion; then held her peace, because day appeared; upon which her sister Dinarzade said to her, My princess, my sultaness, I am so much the more charmed with the story you just now told, because it concludes with an incident I did not expect. I verily thought Hump-back was dead. This surprise pleases me, said Schahriar, as much as the adventures of the barber's brothers. The story of the lame young man of Bagdad diverted me also very much, replied Dinarzade. I am very glad of it, dear sister, said the sultaness; and since I have the good fortune not to tire out the patience of the sultan, our lord and master, if his majesty will still be so gracious as to preserve my life, I shall have the honour to give him an account to-morrow of the history of the amours of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar and Schemselnihar, favourite of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, which is no less worthy of your notice than the history of Hump-back.

The sultan of the Indies, who was very well satisfied with the stories which Scheherazade had told him hitherto, was willing to hear the history which she promised. He rose, however, to go to prayers, and hold his council, without giving any signification of his pleasure towards the sultaness.

Dinarzade, being always careful to awake her sister, called this night at the ordinary hour. My dear sister, said she, day will soon appear. I earnestly beg of you to tell us some of your fine stories. We need no other, said Schahriar, but that of the amours of Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar and Schemselnihar, the favourite of caliph Haroun Alraschid. Sir, said Scheherazade, I will satisfy your curiosity; and began thus.

THE HISTORY OF ABOULHASSEN ALI EBN BECAR, AND SCHEMSELNIHAR, FAVOURITE OF CALIPH HAROUN ALRASCHID.

In the reign of the caliph Haroun Alraschid, there was at Bagdad a druggist, called Aboulhassen Ebn Thaher, a very rich and handsome man. He had more wit and politeness than those of his profession generally have. His integrity, sincerity, and jovial humour, made him to be loved and sought after by all sorts of people. The caliph, who knew his merit, had entire confidence in him; and so great was his esteem for him, that he entrusted him with the care of providing the ladies his favourites with all things they stood in need of. He chose for them their clothes, furniture, and jewels, with admirable judgment.

His good qualities, with the favour of the caliph, made the sons of emirs, officers, and others of the first rank, to be always about him. His house was the rendezvous of all the nobility of the court. But, among the young lords who daily visited him, there was one of whom he took more notice, and with whom he contracted a particular friendship, called Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, originally of an ancient royal family of Persia. This family had continued at Bagdad ever since the Mussul-men made a conquest of that kingdom. Nature seemed to have taken pleasure to endow this young prince with many of the rarest qualities both of body and mind. His face was so very beautiful, his shape so fine, and his physiognomy so prepossessing; that none could see him without loving him immediately. When he spoke, he expressed himself always in terms the most proper and well chosen, with a new and agreeable turn, and his voice charmed all who heard him. He had withal so much wit and judgment, that he thought and spoke on every subject with admirable exactness. He was so reserved and modest, that he advanced nothing till he had taken all possible precautions to avoid giving any ground of suspicion that he preferred his own opinion to that of others.

Being such a person as I have represented him, we need not wonder that Ebn Thaher distinguished him from all the other young noblemen of the court, most of whom had vices contrary to his virtues. One day, when the prince was with Ebn Thaher, there came a lady mounted on a piebald mule, surrounded by six women-slaves, who accompanied her on foot, all very handsome, as far as could be judged by their air, and through the veils which covered their faces. The lady had a girdle of a rose colour, four inches broad, embroidered with pearls and diamonds of an extraordinary bigness; and it was easy to perceive that she surpassed all her women in beauty as much as the full moon does that of two days old. She came to buy something; and when she had spoken to Ebn Thaher, entered his shop, which was very neat and large, and receiving her with all the marks of the most profound respect, entreated her to sit down, and showed her the most honourable place.

In the mean time the prince of Persia, unwilling to let such an opportunity pass to show his good-breeding and courtly temper, beat up the cushion of gold cloth for the lady to lean on; upon which he retired speedily, that she might sit down; and having saluted her, by kissing the tapestry under her feet, he rose, and stood at the lower end of the sofa. It being her custom to be free with Ebn Thaher, she lifted her veil, and discovered to the prince of Persia such extraordinary beauty, that he was struck with it to the heart. On the other hand, the lady could not contain herself from looking on the prince, the sight of whom had made the same impression, upon her. My lord, said she to him, with an obliging air, pray sit down. The prince of Persia obeyed, and sat down upon the edge of the sofa. He had his eyes constantly fixed upon her, and swallowed large draughts of the sweet poison of love. She quickly perceived what worked in his heart, and this discovery inflamed her the more towards him. She rose up, went to Ebn Thaher, and, after whispering to him the cause of her coming, asked the name and country of the prince. Madam, answered Ebn Thaher, this young nobleman's name is Aboulhassen Ali Ebn Becar, and he is a prince of the blood-royal.

The lady was overjoyed to hear that the person she already so passionately loved was of a quality so high. You certainly mean, said she, that he is descended from the kings of Persia. Yes, madam, replied Ebn Thaher; the last kings of Persia were his ancestors, and, since the conquest of that kingdom, the princes of his family have always made themselves acceptable at the court of the caliphs. You will oblige me much, added she, in making me acquainted with this young nobleman. When I send this woman, said she, pointing to one of her slaves, to give you notice to come and see me, pray bring him with you; I shall be very glad to display to him the magnificence of my house, that he may see that avarice does not reign at Bagdad among persons of quality. You know what I mean; therefore do not fail, other, wise I will be very angry with you, and beg you will never come hither again while I live.

Ebn Thaher was a man of too much penetration not to perceive the lady's mind by these words. My princess! my queen! replied he; God preserve me from ever giving you any occasion of anger against me! I shall always make it a law to obey your commands. At this answer, the lady bowed to Ebn Thaher, and bid farewell; and, after giving a favourable look to the prince of Persia, remounted her mule, and went away.

The prince of Persia was so deeply smitten with the lady, that he looked after her as far as he could see; and, for a long time after she was out of sight, he still looked that way. Ebn Thaher told him, that several persons were observing him, and were laughing to see him in this posture. Alas! said the prince, the world and you would have compassion on me, if you knew that the fine lady who is just now gone, has carried with her the best part of me, and that the remaining part seeks for an opportunity to go after her. Tell me, I conjure you, added he, what cruel lady this is, who forces people to love her, without giving them time to advise? My lord, answered Ebn Thaher, this is the famous Schemselnihar, [Footnote: This word signifies the sun of the day.] the principal favourite of the caliph our master. She is justly so called, added the prince, since she is more beautiful than the sun at noon-day. That is true, replied Ebn Thaher; therefore the commander of the faithful loves, or rather adores her: he gave me express orders to furnish all that she asked of me, and to prevent, as much as possible, every thing that she can desire of me.

He spoke in this manner, in order to hinder him from engaging in an amour which could not but prove unhappy to him; but it served only to inflame him the more. I was very doubtful, charming Schemselnihar, said he, that I should not be allowed so much as to think of you. I perceive well, however, that, without hopes of being loved by you, I cannot forbear loving you. I will love you then, and bless my lot that I am slave to an object fairer than the meridian sun.

While the prince of Persia was thus consecrating his heart to fair Schemselnihar, this lady, upon returning home, thought upon a way how she might see and have free converse with him. She no sooner entered her palace, than she sent to Ebn Thaher the woman she had shown him, and in whom she put all her confidence, to tell him to come and see her without delay, and to bring the prince of Persia with him. The slave came to Ebn Thaher's shop while he was speaking with the prince, and endeavouring, by very strong arguments, to dissuade him from loving the caliph's favourite. When she saw them together, Gentlemen, said she, my honourable mistress Schemselnihar, the chief favourite of the commander of the faithful, entreats you to come to her palace, where she waits for you. Ebn Thaher, to testify his obedience, rose up immediately, without answering the slave, and followed her, though with some reluctance. As for the prince, he followed without reflecting upon the danger that might happen in such a visit: the company of Ebn Thaher, who had liberty to visit the favourite whenever he pleased, made the prince very easy in the affair. They followed the slave, who went a little before them, entering after her into the caliph's palace, and joined her at the gate of Schemselnihar's little palace, which was already open: she introduced them into a great hall, where she entreated them both to sit down.

The prince of Persia thought himself in one of those magnificent palaces that are promised us in the other world, for he had never seen any thing that equalled the shining splendour of the place; the carpets, cushions, and other furniture of the sofas, the moveables, ornaments, and architecture, were all surprisingly beautiful. A little time after Ebn Thaher and he were sat down, a very handsome black slave set before them a table covered with several very fine dishes, the delicious smell of which made them judge of the delicacy of the sauce. While eating, they were waited upon by the slave who had introduced them, and who invited them to eat of what she knew to be the greatest dainties; when they had done, they were served with excellent wine by the other slaves, who afterwards presented to each of them a fine gold basin full of water to wash their hands, and also a golden pot full of the perfume of aloes, with which they both perfumed their beards and clothes; nor was odoriferous water forgotten, which the slaves brought to them in a golden vessel, enriched with diamonds and rubies, made particularly for that use, and which they threw upon their beards and faces, according to custom. They then went to their places; but had scarcely seated themselves, when the slave entreated them to rise and follow her; and opening a gate of the hall in which they were, they entered into a spacious saloon of a marvellous structure. It was a dome of the most agreeable fashion, supported by a hundred pillars of marble, white as alabaster; the bases and chapiters of the pillars were adorned with four-footed beasts and birds of several sorts gilded. The foot-carpet of this noble parlour consisted of one piece of gold cloth, embroidered with garlands of roses in red and white silk; and the dome being painted in the same manner, after the Arabian form, was one of the most charming objects the eye ever beheld: betwixt each column was placed a little sofa adorned in the same manner, and great vessels of china, crystal, jasper, jet, porphyry, agate, and other precious materials, garnished with gold and jewels: the spaces betwixt the columns were so many large windows, with jets high enough to lean on, covered with the same sort of stuff as the sofas, from which was a prospect into one of the most delightful gardens in the world, the walks of which, being made of little pebbles of different colours, much resembled the foot-carpet of the saloon; so that it appeared, both within and without, as if the dome and the garden, with all their ornaments, had stood upon the same carpet. The prospect round was thus diversified: at the ends of the walks were two canals of clear water, of the same circular figure as the dome; one of which, being higher than the other, emptied itself into the lowermost, in form of a table-cloth; and curious pots of gilded brass, with flowers and greens, were placed at equal distances on the banks of the canals: the walks lay betwixt great plots of ground, planted with straight and bushy trees, among winch were thousands of birds, whose notes formed a melodious concert, and entertained the beholder by sometimes flying about, at others by playing together, and sometimes by fighting in the air.

The prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher diverted themselves for some time with viewing the magnificence of the place, and testified great surprise at everything they saw, especially the prince, who had never before seen any thing to equal it; and Ebn Thaher, though he had several times been in that delightful place, yet could now observe many new beauties: in a word, they never grew weary of admiring so many singular things; and were thus agreeably employed, when they perceived, at some distance from the dome, a company of ladies richly apparelled, each of them sitting upon a seat of Indian wood, inlaid with silver wire in figures, with instruments of music in their hands, expecting orders to play. They both advanced to the jet which fronted the ladies, and on the right they saw a large court, with a stair up from the garden, encompassed with beautiful apartments. The slave having retired, and left them alone, they entered into conversation: As to you, who are a wise man, said the prince of Persia to Ebn Thaher, I doubt not but that you look with much satisfaction upon all these marks of grandeur and power. For my part, I do not think there is any thing in the world more surprising. But when I consider that this is the glorious habitation of the lovely Schemselnihar, and that he who keeps her here is the greatest monarch of the earth, I confess to you that I look upon myself to be the most unfortunate of all mankind; that no destiny can be more cruel than mine, in loving an object possessed by a rival, and that too in a place where he is so potent, that I cannot think myself sure of my life one moment!

Ebn Thaher hearing the prince of Persia speak, said to him, Sir, I wish you could give me as good an assurance of the happy success of your amours, as I can give you of the safety of your life. Though this stately palace belongs to the caliph, who built it on purpose for Schemselnihar, and called it the palace of eternal pleasures, and that it makes part of his own palace, yet you must know that this lady lives here at entire liberty; she is not surrounded by eunuchs as spies over her; this is her own particular house, which is absolutely at her disposal: she goes into the city when she pleases, and returns again, without asking leave of any body; and the caliph never comes to see her without sending Mesrour, the chief of his eunuchs, to give her notice, that she may be prepared to receive him. Therefore you may be easy, and give full attention to the concert of music, which I perceive, Schemselnihar is preparing on purpose for you.

Just as Ebn Thaher spoke these words to the prince of Persia, they observed the favourite's trusty slave coming with orders for the ladies to begin singing and playing on the instruments, which they instantly obeyed, and all began playing together as a preludium; after which, one of them began singing alone, at the same time playing admirably well upon her lute, having been before advertised of the subject on which she was to sing. The words were so agreeable to the prince of Persia's sentiments, that he could not forbear applauding her at the end of the stave. Is it possible, cried he, that you have the gift of knowing people's hearts, and that the knowledge of what is in my mind has occasioned you to give us a taste of your charming voice by those words? Were I to choose, I should not express myself otherwise. The lady made no reply, but went on, and sung several other staves, with which the prince was so much affected, that he repeated some of them with tears in his eyes, which plainly discovered that he applied them to himself. When she had made an end, she and her companions rose up, and sung all together, signifying by their words that the full moon was going to rise in all her splendour, and that they should speedily see her approach the sun; by which it was meant that Schemselnihar was just coming, and that the prince of Persia should have the pleasure of seeing her.

In effect, as they were looking towards the court, they saw Schemselnihar's confident coming towards them, followed by ten black women, who, with much difficulty, carried a throne of massy silver most curiously wrought, which they set down, before them at a certain distance; upon which the black slaves retired behind the trees to the entrance of a walk. After this there came twenty handsome ladies, all alike most elegantly apparelled: they advanced in two rows, singing and playing upon instruments which each of them held in her hand; and, coming near the throne, ten of them sat down on each side of it.

All these things kept the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher in very great suspense, both of them being impatient to know how they would end. In this state of anxious expectation, they saw ten handsome ladies, well dressed, come out of the same gate whence the ten black women came, where they stopped for a few moments, expecting the favourite, who came out last, and placed herself in the midst of them.

Schemselnihar was easily distinguished from the rest by her fine shape and majestic air, as well as by a sort of mantle, of very fine stuff of gold and sky-blue, fastened to her shoulders over her other apparel, which was the most handsome, best contrived, and most magnificent, that could be thought of. The pearls, rubies, and diamonds, with which she was adorned, though few in number, were well chosen, and of inestimable value, and were displayed in excellent order. She came forward with a majesty resembling the sun in his course amidst the clouds, which receive his splendour without hiding his lustre, and seated herself on the silver throne that was brought for her.

As soon as the prince of Persia beheld Schemselnihar, nothing else could attract his notice: We cease inquiring after what we seek, said he to Ebn Thaher, when we see it; and there is no doubt remaining when once the truth makes itself manifest. Do you see this charming beauty? She is the cause of all my sufferings, which I hug, and will never forbear blessing them, however lasting they may be! At the sight of this object, I am not my own master; my soul rebels, and disturbs me; and I fancy it has a mind to leave me! Go then, my soul, I allow thee; but let it be for the welfare and preservation of this weak body! It is you, cruel Ebn Thaher, who are the cause of this disorder! You thought to do me great pleasure in bringing me hither, and I perceive I am only come to complete my ruin! Pardon me, said he, interrupting himself; I am mistaken: I was willing to come, and can blame nobody but myself. At these words, he could not refrain from tears. I am very well pleased, said Ebn Thaher, that you do me justice; when at first I told you that Schemselnihar was the caliph's chief favourite, I did it on purpose to prevent that fatal passion which you please yourself with entertaining in your breast. All that you see here ought to disengage you, and you are to think of nothing but of acknowledgments for the honour which Schemselnihar was willing to do you, by ordering me to bring you with me. Call in, then, your wandering reason, and put yourself in a condition to appear before her, as good-breeding requires. Behold, there she comes! Were the matter to begin again, I would take other measures; but, since the thing is done, I wish we may not repent of it. What I have further to say to you is this, that love is a traitor, who may throw you into a pit from which you will never be able to escape.

Ebn Thaher had not time to say more, because Schemselnihar came, and, sitting down upon her throne, saluted them both with an inclination of the head; but she fixed her eyes on the prince of Persia, and they spoke to one another in a silent language, intermixed with sighs; by which, in a few moments, they spoke more than could have been done by words in a great deal of time. The more Schemselnihar looked upon the prince, the more she found from his looks that he was in love with her; and, being thus persuaded of his passion, thought herself the happiest woman in the world. At last, turning her eyes from him to command the women who began to sing first to come near; they got up, and whilst they advanced, the black women, who came out of the walk into which they retired, brought their seats, and set them near the window, in the jet of the dome, where Ebn Thaher and the prince of Persia stood; and then they so disposed them on each side of the favourite's throne, that they formed a semicircle.

The women who were sitting before she came, took each of them their places again, with the permission of Schemselnihar, who ordered them by a sign. That charming favourite chose one of these women to sing; who, after she had spent some moments in tuning her lute, played a song, the meaning whereof was, that two lovers, who entirely loved each other, and whose affection was boundless, their hearts, though in two bodies, were one and the same; and, when any thing opposed their desires, could say, with tears in their eyes, if we love, because we find one another amiable, ought we to be blamed for this? Let destiny bear the blame.

Schemselnihar discovered so well, by her eyes and gestures, that these sayings ought to be applied to her and the prince of Persia, that he could not maintain himself; he rose, and came to a balluster, which he leaned upon, and obliged one of the women, who came to sing, to observe him. When she was near him, Follow me, said he to her, and do me the favour to accompany with your lute a song which you shall forthwith hear. Then he sang with an air so tender and passionate, as perfectly expressed the violence of his love. When he had done, Schemselnihar, following his example, said to one of the women, Follow me likewise, and accompany my voice; at the same time she sung after such a manner, as further pierced the heart of the prince of Persia, who answered her by a new air as passionate as the former.

These two lovers declared their mutual affection by their songs. Schemselnihar yielded to the force of hers; she rose from her throne, and advanced towards the door of the hall. The prince, who knew her design, rose likewise, and went towards her in all haste. They met at the door, where they took each other by the hand, embracing with so much passion, that they fainted, and would have fallen, if the women who followed them had not helped them. But they were supported and carried to a sofa, where they were brought to themselves again, by throwing odoriferous water upon their faces, and giving them other things to smell.

When they came to themselves, the first tiling that Schemselnihar did was to look about; and not seeing Ebn Thaher, she asked, with a great deal of concern, where he was. He had withdrawn out of respect, whilst her women were applying things to recover her, and dreaded, not without reason, that some troublesome consequence might attend what had happened; but as soon as he heard Schemselnihar ask for him, he came forward, and presented himself before her.

Schemselnihar was very well pleased to see Ebn Thaher, and expressed her joy in these terms: Kind Ebn Thaher, I do not know how to make amends for the great obligation you have put upon me: without you I should never have seen the prince of Persia, nor have loved him who is the most amiable person in the world; but you may assure yourself, however, that I shall not die ungrateful, and that my acknowledgment, if possible, shall be equal to the obligation. Ebn Thaher answered this compliment by a low bow, and wished the favourite the accomplishment of all her desires.

Schemselnihar, turning towards the prince of Persia, who sat by her, and looking upon him with some sort of confusion, after what had passed between them, said to him, Sir, I am very well assured you love me; and, however great your love may be to me, you need not doubt but mine is as great towards you; but let us not flatter ourselves; for, though we are both agreed, yet I see nothing for you and me but trouble, impatience, and tormenting grief. There is no other remedy for our evils but to love one another constantly, to refer ourselves to the disposal of Heaven, and to wait till it shall determine our destiny. Madam, replied the prince of Persia, you will do me the greatest injustice in the world if you doubt but one moment of the continuance of my love. It is so united to my soul, that I can justly say it makes the best part of it, and that I shall persevere in it till death. Pains, torments, obstacles, nothing shall be capable of hindering me to love you. Speaking these words, he shed tears in abundance, and Schemselnihar was not able to restrain hers.

Ebn Thaher took this opportunity to speak to the favourite: Madam, said he, allow me to represent to you, that, instead of breaking forth into tears, you ought to rejoice that you are together. I understand not this grief. What will it be when you are obliged to part? But why do I talk of that? We have been a long time here; and you know, madam, that it is time for us to be going. Ah, how cruel you are! replied Schemselnihar. You, who know the cause of my tears, have you no pity for my unfortunate condition? Oh, sad fatality! What have I done to be subject to the severe law of not being able to enjoy the person whom I love?

She being persuaded that Ebn Thaher spoke to her only out of friendship, did not take amiss what he said to her, but made a right use of it. Then she made a sign to the slave, her confident, who immediately went out, and in a little time brought a collation of fruit upon a small silver table, which she set down between her mistress and the prince of Persia. Schemselnihar presented some of the best to the prince, and prayed him to eat for her sake: he did so, and put that part to his mouth which she had touched; and then he presented some to her, which she took, and ate in the same manner. She did not forget to invite Ebn Thaher to eat with them; but he not thinking himself safe in that place, ate only from complaisance. After the collation was taken away, they brought a silver basin with water in a vessel of gold, and washed together; they afterwards returned to their places, when three of the ten black women brought each of them a cup of rock crystal full of curious wines, upon a golden salver, which they set down before Schemselnihar, the prince of Persia, and Ebn Thaher. That they might be more private, Schemselnihar kept with her only ten black women, with ten others who began to sing and play upon instruments; and, after she had sent away all the rest, she took up one of the cups, and holding it in her hand, sung some tender expressions, which one of her women accompanied with her lute. When she had done, she drank, and afterwards took up one of the other cups, and presented it to the prince, praying him to drink for love of her, as she had drunk for love of him. He received the cup with a transport of love and joy, but, before drinking, he also sung a song, which another woman accompanied with an instrument and as he sung, the tears fell from his eyes in such abundance, that he could not forbear expressing in his song that he knew not whether he was going to drink the wine she had presented to him, or his own tears. Schemselnihar at last presented the third cup to Ebn Thaher, who thanked her for her kindness, and for the honour she did him.

She then took a lute from one of her women, and sung to it in such a passionate manner as bespoke her to be beside herself, the prince of Persia standing with his eyes fixed upon her, as if he had been enchanted. As these things were passing, her trusty slave arrived all in a fright; and, addressing herself to her mistress, said, Madam, Mesrour and two other officers, with several eunuchs that attend them, are at the gate and want to speak with you from the caliph. When the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher heard these words, they changed colour, and began to tremble, as if they had been undone; but Schemselnihar, who perceived it, recovered their courage by a smile.

After Schemselnihar had quieted the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher's fears, she ordered the slave, her confident, to go and entertain Mesrour and the two other officers till she was in a condition to receive them, and send to her to bring them in. She immediately ordered all the windows of the saloon to be shut, and the painted cloth on the side of the garden to be let down; and having assured the prince and Ebn Thaher that they might continue there without fear, she went out at the gate leading to the garden, and shut it upon them; but, whatever assurance she had given them of their being safe, they were still much terrified all the while they were there.

As soon as Schemselnihar was in the garden with the women that followed her, she ordered all the seats which served the women who played on the instruments to be set near the window where Ebn Thaher and the prince of Persia heard them, and having got things in order, she sat down upon a silver throne; then she sent by the slave, her confident, to bring in the chief of the eunuchs, and his subaltern officers.

They appeared, followed by twenty black eunuchs, all handsomely clothed, with scimitars by their sides, and gold belts of four inches broad. As soon as they perceived the favourite Schemselnihar at a distance, they made her a profound reverence, which she returned them from her throne. When they came near, she got up and went to meet Mesrour, who came first. She asked what news he brought. He answered, Madam, the commander of the faithful has sent me to signify that he cannot live longer without seeing you; he designs to come to you tonight, and I come beforehand to give notice, that you may be prepared to receive him. He hopes, madam, that you long as much to see him as he is impatient to see you.

Upon this discourse of Mesrour, the favourite Schemselnihar prostrated herself to the ground, as a mark of the submission with which she received the caliph's order. When she rose again, she said, Pray tell the commander of the faithful, that I shall always esteem it my glory to execute his majesty's commands, and that his slave will do her utmost to receive him with all the respect that is due to him. At the same time she ordered the slave, her confident, to tell the black women appointed for that service to get the palace ready to receive the caliph; and dismissing the chief of the eunuchs, said to him, You see it requires some time to get all things ready, therefore I pray you to take care that his majesty may have a little patience, that, when he arrives, he may not find things out of order.

The chief of the eunuchs and his retinue being gone, Schemselnihar returned to the saloon, extremely concerned at the necessity she was under of sending back the prince of Persia sooner than she thought to have done. She came up to him again with tears in her eyes, which heightened Ebn Thaher's fear, who thought it no good omen. Madam, said the prince to her, I perceive you are come to tell me that we must part; provided there be nothing more to dread, I hope Heaven will give me the patience which is necessary to support your absence. Alas, my dear heart, my dear soul, replied the tender-hearted Schemselnihar, how happy do I think you, and how unhappy myself, when I compare your lot with my sad destiny! No doubt, you will suffer by my absence; but that is all, and you may comfort yourself with the hope of seeing me again; but as for me, just Heaven! what a terrible trial am I brought to! I must not only be deprived of the sight of the only person whom I love, but I must be tormented with the sight of one whom you have made hateful to me. Will not the arrival of the caliph put me in mind of your departure? And how can I, when I think of your sweet face, entertain that prince with that joy which he always observed in my eyes whenever he came to see me? I shall have my mind wavering when I speak to him; and the least complaisance which I show to him, will stab me to the heart like a dagger. Can I relish his kind words and caresses? Think, prince, to what torments I shall be exposed when I can see you no more! Her tears and sighs hindered her to go on, and the prince of Persia would have replied to her; but his own grief, and that of his mistress, made him incapable.

Ebn Thaher, whose chief business was to get out of the palace, was obliged to comfort them, and to exhort them to have patience. But the trusty slave interrupted them: Madam, said she to Schemselnihar, you have no time to lose, the eunuchs begin to arrive, and you know the caliph will be here immediately. 0 Heaven, how cruel is this separation! cried the favourite. Make haste, said she to the confident, carry them both to the gallery which looks into the garden on the one side, and to the Tigris on the other; and when the night grows dark, let them out by the back gate, that they may retire with safety. Having spoken thus, she tenderly embraced the prince of Persia, without being able to say one word more, and went to meet the caliph in such disorder as cannot well be imagined.

In the mean time the trusty slave carried the prince and Ebn Thaher to the gallery, as Schemselnihar had appointed; and having brought them in, left them there, and shut the door upon them, after having assured them that they had nothing to fear, and that she would come for them when it was time.

Schemselnihar's trusty slave leaving the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, they forgot she had assured them that they needed not to be afraid; they searched all the gallery, and were seized with extreme fear, because they knew no place where they might escape, in case the caliph, or any of his officers, should happen to come there.

A great light, which came on a sudden from the side of the garden through the windows, caused them to approach to see from whence it came. It was occasioned by a hundred flambeaux of white wax, carried by as many young eunuchs; these were followed by as many others, who guarded the ladies of the caliph's palace, clothed, and armed with scimitars, in the same manner as those already mentioned; and the caliph came after them, betwixt Mesrour, their captain, on his right, and the vassif, their second officer, on his left hand.

Schemselnihar waited for the caliph at the entry of an alley, accompanied by twenty women, all of surprising beauty, adorned with necklaces and ear-rings of large diamonds, and some of them had their whole heads covered with them. They played upon instruments, and made a charming concert. The favourite no sooner saw the prince appear than she advanced, and prostrated herself at his feet; and while doing this, Prince of Persia, said she within herself, if your sad eyes bear witness to what I do, judge of my hard lot; if I was humbling myself so before you, my heart should feel no reluctance.

The caliph was ravished to see Schemselnihar. Rise, madam, said he to her; come near: I am angry that I should have deprived myself so long of the pleasure of seeing you. Saying this, he took her by the hand, and, after abundance of tender expressions, went and sat down upon a silver throne which Schemselnihar caused to be brought for him, and she sat down upon a seat opposite, and the twenty women made a circle round about them upon other seats, while the young eunuchs, who carried flambeaux, dispersed themselves at a certain distance from each other, that the caliph might enjoy the cool of the evening the better.

When the caliph sat down, he looked round him, and beheld with satisfaction a great many other lights besides those flambeaux which the young eunuchs held; but taking notice that the saloon was shut, was astonished thereat, and demanded the reason. It was done on purpose to surprise him; for he had no sooner spoken, than the windows were at once opened, and he saw it illuminated within and without in a much better manner than ever he had seen it before. Charming Schemselmhar, cried he at this sight, I understand you; you would have me to know there are as fine nights as days. After what I have seen, I cannot disown it.

Let us return to the prince of Persia and Elm Thaher, whom we left in the gallery. Ebn Thaher could not enough admire all he saw. I am not very young, said he, and in my time have seen great entertainments; but I do not think any thing can be more surprising and magnificent. All that is said of enchanted palaces does no way come near this prodigious spectacle we now see. O strange! what riches and magnificence together!

The prince of Persia was nothing moved with those objects which were so pleasant to Ebn Thaher; he could look on nothing but Schemselnihar, and the presence of the caliph threw him into inconceivable grief. Dear Ebn Thaher, said he, would to God I had my mind as free to admire these things as you! But, alas! I am in a quite different condition; all those objects serve only to increase my torment. Can I see the caliph cheek to cheek with her that I love, and not die of grief? Must such a passionate love as mine be disturbed by so potent a rival? O heavens, how cruel is my destiny! It is but a moment since I esteemed myself the most fortunate lover in the world, and at this instant I feel my heart so struck, that it is like to kill me. I cannot resist it, my dear Ebn Thaher; my patience is at an end; my distemper overwhelms me, and my courage fails. While speaking, he saw something pass in the garden, which obliged him to keep silence, and to turn all his attention that way.

The caliph had ordered one of the women, who was near him, to play on her lute, and she began to sing. The words that she sung were very passionate; and the caliph was persuaded that she sung thus by order of Schemselnihar, who had frequently entertained him with the like testimonies of her affection; therefore he interpreted all in his own favour. But this was not now Schemselnihar's meaning; she applied it to her dear Ali Ebn Becar, and was so sensibly touched with grief, to have before her an object whose presence she could no longer enjoy, that she fainted and fell backwards upon her seat, which having no arms to support her, she must have fallen down, had not some of the women helped her in time; who took her up, and carried her into the saloon.

Ebn Thaher, who was in the gallery, being surprised at this accident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but, instead of seeing him stand and look through the window as before, he was extremely amazed to see him fall down at his feet, and without motion. He judged it to proceed from the violence of his love to Schemselnihar, and admired the strange effect of sympathy which threw him into great fear, because of the place in which they were. In the mean time he did all he could to recover the prince, but in vain. Ebn Thaher was in this perplexity when Schemselnihar's confident, opening the gallery door, came in out of breath, as one who knew not where she was. Come speedily, cried she, that I may let you out. All is confusion here, and I fear this will be the last of our days. Ah! how would you have us go? replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice. Come near, I pray you, and see in what condition the prince of Persia is. When, the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran for water in all haste, and returned in an instant.

At last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his face, recovered his spirits. Prince, said Ebn Thaher to him, we run the risk of being destroyed, if we stay here any longer; let us therefore endeavour to save our lives. He was so feeble that he could not rise unassisted. Ebn Thaher and the confident lent him their hands, and supported him on each side. They came to a little iron gate which opened towards the Tigris, went out at it, and got to the side of a little canal communicating with the river. The confident clapped her hands, and immediately a little boat appeared, which came towards them with one rower. Ali Ebn Becar and his comrade went aboard, and the trusty slave staid at the side of the canal. As soon as the prince sat down in the boat, he stretched out one hand towards the palace and laid the other upon his heart. Dear object of my soul! cried he with a feeble voice, receive my faith with this hand, while I assure you with the other, that for you my heart shall for ever preserve the fire with which it burns!

In the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might; and Schemselnihar's trusty slave accompanied the prince of Persia and Ebu Thaher, walking along the side of the canal, until they came to the Tigris; and when she could go no further, she took farewell of them, and returned.

The prince of Persia continued very feeble. Ebn Thaher comforted him, and exhorted him to take courage. Consider, said he, that when we are landed, we have a great way to go before we come to my house; and I would not at this hour, and in this condition, advise you home to your lodgings, which are a great way further off than mine. At length they got out of the boat, but the prince was so weak that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great perplexity. He remembered he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and carried the prince thither with great difficulty. His friends received them very cheerfully; and, when he made them sit down, asked where they had been so late. Ebn Thaher answered him, I was this evening with a man who owed me a considerable sum of money, and designed to go a long voyage. I was unwilling to lose time to find him, and by the way I met with this young nobleman whom you see, and to whom I am under a thousand obligations; for, knowing my debtor, he would needs do me the favour of going along with me. We had a great deal of trouble to bring the man to reason; besides, we went out of the way, and that is the reason we are so late. In our return home, this good lord, for whom I have all possible respect, was attacked by a sudden distemper; which made me take the liberty of calling at your house, flattering myself that you would be pleased to give us quarters for this night.

Ebn Thaher's friend, who believed all this, told them they were welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all the assistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the prince, and said, that his distemper was of a nature that required nothing but rest. His friend understood by this that they desired to go to bed; on which he conducted them to an apartment, where he left them.

Though the prince of Persia slept, he had troublesome dreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at the caliph's feet, and increased his affliction. Ebn Thaher was very impatient to be at home, and doubted not but his family were in great trouble, because he never used to lie abroad. He rose and deported early in the morning, after taking leave of his friend, who rose at break of day to say his prayers. At last he came home; and the prince of Persia, who had walked so far with much trouble, lay down upon a sofa, as weary as if he had travelled a long journey Not being in a condition to go home, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be got ready for him, and sent to acquaint his friends with his condition, and where he was. In the mean time he begged him to compose himself, to command in his house, and order things as he pleased. I thank you hcartily for these obliging offers, said the prince of Persia; but, that I may not be any way troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal with me as if I were not at your house. I would not stay one moment, if I thought my presence would incommode you in the least.

As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his family all that had passed at Schemselnihar's palace, and concluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger he was in. The prince of Persia's principal domestics came to receive his orders at Ebn Thaher's house, and in a little time several of his friends who had notice of his indisposition arrived. Those friends passed the greater part of the day with him; and, though their conversation could not dissipate those sad ideas which were the cause of his trouble, yet it gave him some relief. He would have taken his leave of Ebn Thaher towards the evening; but this faithful friend found him still so weak, that he obliged him to stay till next day, and in the mean time, to divert him, gave him a concert of vocal and instrumental music in the evening; but this concert served only to put him in mind of the preceding night, and renewed his trouble, instead of assuaging it; so that next day his distemper seempd to increase. Upon this, Ebn Thaher did not oppose his going home, but took care to accompany him thither; and, when alone with him in his chamber, he represented to him all those arguments which might influence him to a generous endeavour to overcome that passion, which in the end would neither prove lucky to himself nor to the favourite. Ah, dear Ebn Thaher! cried the prince, how easy is it for you to give this advice, but how hard is it for me to follow it! I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to profit by it, I have said already, that I shall carry with me to the grave the love that I bear to Schemselnihar. When Ebn Thaher saw that lie could not prevail on the prince, he took his leave of him, and would have retired.

The prince of Persia detained him, and said, Kind Ebn Thaher, since I have declared to you that it is not in my power to follow your wise counsels, I beg you will not charge it on me as a crime, nor forbear to give me the usual testimonies of your friendship; you cannot do me a greater favour than to inform me of the destiny of my dear Schemselnihar, when you hear any news of it. The uncertainty I am in concerning her fate, and the apprehensions which her fainting occasioned me, keep me in this languishing condition you reproach me with. My lord, answered Ebn Thaher, you have reason to hope that her fainting was not attended with any serious consequences; her confident, will soon come and inform me of the issue, and as soon as I know the particulars, I shall not fail to impart them.

Ebn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home where he expected Schemselnihar's confident all day, but in vain, nor did she come next day. His uneasiness to know the state of the prince of Persia's health would not suffer him to stay any longer without seeing him; he went to his lodgings to exhort him to patience, and found him lying in bed as sick as ever, surrounded by many of his friends, and several physicians, who used all their art to discover the cause of his distemper. As soon as he saw Ebn Thaher, he looked upon him smiling, to signify that he had two things to tell him; the one, that he was glad to see him; the other, how much the physicians, who could not discover the cause of his distemper, were mistaken in their reasonings.

His friends and physicians retired one after another; so that Ebn Thaher, being alone with him, came near his bed, to ask how he did since he saw him. I must tell you, answered the prince, that my passion, which continually gathers new strength, and the uncertainty of the lovely Schemselnihar's destiny, augment my distemper every moment, and throw me into such a condition as afflicts my kindred and friends, and breaks the measures of my physicians, who do not understand it. You cannot think, added he, how much I suffer to see so many importunate people about me, and whom I cannot in civility put away. It is your company alone that is comfortable to me: but, in a word, I conjure you not to dissemble with me; what news do you bring of Schemselnihar? Have you seen her confident? What said she to you? Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not yet seen her; and no sooner had he told the prince of Persia this sad news, than tears came from his eyes, and his heart was so oppressed that he could not answer him one word. Prince, added Ebn Thaher, suffer me to tell you, that you are very ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of God, wipe away your tears: If any of your people should come in just now, they would discover you by this, notwithstanding the care you ought to take to conceal your thoughts. Whatever this judicious confident could say, it was impossible for the prince to refrain from weeping. Wise Ebn Thaher, said he, when he had recovered his speech, I may well hinder my tongue from revealing the secrets of my heart, but I have no power over my tears upon such a direful subject as Schemselnihar's danger! If that adorable and only object of my desires be no longer in the world. I shall not be one moment after! Reject so afflicting an idea, replied Ebn Thaher; Schemselnihar is yet alive; you need not doubt the certainty of it. If you have heard nothing of her, it is because she could find no occasion to send to you; and I hope you will hear from her to-day. To this he added several other comfortable things, and then retired.

Ebn Thaher was scarcely at his own house, when Schemselnihar's confident arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a bad omen. He asked concerning her mistress. Tell me yours first, said the confident; for I was in great trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition. Ebn Thaher told her all that she desired to know, and when he had done, the slave began her discourse: If the prince of Persia, said she, has suffered, and does still suffer, for my mistress, she suffers no less for him. After I departed from you, continued she, I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the help they endeavoured to give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of real grief; he asked the women, and me in particular, if we knew the cause of her distemper; but we all kept secret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean time, we wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any ways help her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she recovered. The caliph, who had the patience to wait, was truly glad at her recovery, and asked Schemselmhar the cause of her distemper. As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to resume her seat; and, after she had kissed his feet before he could hinder her, Sir, said she, I have reason to complain of Heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your majesty's feet, to testify thereby how sensible I am of your favours!

I am persuaded you love me, said the caliph to her, and I command you to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded in something today, which has occasioned this indisposition; take heed, I pray you, abstain from it for the future. I am glad to see you better; and I advise you to stay here tonight, and not to return to your chamber, lest the motion disturb you. Upon this he commanded a little wine to be brought her, in order to strengthen her; and then taking his leave, returned to his apartment.

As soon as the caliph was gone, my mistress gave me a sign to come near her. She asked me earnestly concerning you: I assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her easy as to that matter. I took care not to speak of the prince of Persia's fainting, lest it should make her fall into the same condition from which we had so much trouble to recover her; my precautions were all in vain, as you shall hear. Prince, said she, I henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of a sight of you. If I have understood your heart right, I only follow your example. Thou wilt not cease to weep until thou seest me again; it is but just, then, that I weep and mourn till I see you! At these words, which she uttered in such a manner as expressed the violence of her passion, she fainted in my arms a second time.

My comrades and I, said she, were long in recovering her; at last she came to herself; and then I said to her, Madam, are you resolved to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you? I beg of you to be persuaded, in the name of the prince of Persia, for whom it is your interest to live, to save yourself, as you love yourself, as you love the prince, and for our sakes, who are so faithful to you! I am very much obliged to you, replied she, for your care, zeal, and advice; but alas! these are useless to me! You are not to flatter us with hopes; for we can expect no end of our torment but in the grave! One of my companions would have diverted those sad ideas by playing on her lute; but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night with her. O heavens! what a night was it! She passed it in tears and groans, always naming the prince of Persia; lamented her lot, which had destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not to him she loved so dearly.

Next morning, because she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon, I helped her to her chamber, where she no sooner arrived, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her by order of the caliph, who was not long in coming himself. The medicines which the physicians prescribed for Schemselnihar were to no purpose, because they were ignorant of the cause of her distemper, and the presence of the caliph augmented it. She got a little rest, however, this night; and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you to hear concerning the prince of Persia. I have already informed you of his case, said Ebn Thaher; so return to your mistress, and assure her that the prince of Persia waits to hear from her with the like impatience that she does from him; besides, exhort her to moderation, and to overcome herself, lest she drop some words before the caliph, which may prove fatal to us all. As for me, replied the confident, I confess I dread her transport; I have taken the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take it ill that I tell her this from you.

Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia's lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect his own important affairs, and therefore went not till the evening. The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning. Ebn Thaher, said he, you have doubtless many friends; but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me by the zeal, care, and trouble, you give yourself to oblige me in my condition. I am confounded with all that you do for me with so great affection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my gratitude! Prince, answered Ebn Thaher, do not speak so, I entreat you; I am ready not only to give one of my own eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But this is not the present business; I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confident to ask me about you, and at the same time to inform me of her condition. You may assure yourself that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love her. Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him. The prince listened with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and compassion, with which this discourse could inspire him, making, upon every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.

Their conversation continued so long, that the night was far advanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay with him. Next morning, as this trusty friend was returning home, there came to him a woman, whom he knew to be Schemselnihar's confident, who eagerly addressed him thus: My mistress salutes you; and I am come to entreat you, in her home, to deliver this letter to the prince of Persia. The zealous Ebn Thaher took the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confident.

When Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia's house with Schemselnihar's confident, he prayed her to stay one moment in the drawing room. As soon as the prince of Persia saw him, he earnestly asked what news he had. The best you can expect, answered Ebn Thaher; you are as dearly beloved as you love; Schemselnihar's confident is in your drawing room; she has brought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders to come in. Let her come in! cried the prince, with a transport of joy; and, speaking thus, sat down to receive her.

The prince's attendants retired as soon as they saw Ebn Thaher, and left him alone with their master. Ebn Thaher went and opened the door, and brought in the confident. The prince knew her, and received her very civilly. My lord, said she to him, I am sensible of the afflictions you have endured since I had the honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you back; but I hope this letter I have brought will contribute to your cure. Upon this, she presented him the letter. He took it, and, after kissing it several times, opened it, and read as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to Ali Ebn Becar, Prince of Persia.

The person who carries this letter will give you a better account concerning me than I can do, for I have not been myself since I saw you: deprived of your presence, I sought to divert myself by entertaining you with these ill-written lines, as if I had the good fortune to speak to you.

It is said that patience is a cure for all distempers; but it sours mine instead of sweetening it. Although your picture be deeply engraven in my heart, my eyes desire constantly to see the original; and their sight will vanish if they are much longer deprived of that pleasure. May I flatter myself that yours have the same impatience to see me? Yes I can; their tender glances discovered it to me. How happy, prince, should you and Schemselnihar both be, if our agreeable desires were not crossed by invincible obstacles, which afflict me as sensibly as they do you!

Those thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with incredible pleasure, and repeat again and again, speak from the bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding the cruel torments I endure for your absence. I would reckon all that opposes our love nothing, were I only allowed to see you sometimes with freedom; I would then enjoy you, and what more could I desire?

Do not imagine that I say more than I think. Alas! whatever expressions I am able to use, I am sensible that I think more than I can tell you. My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your return; my afflicted heart, which desires nothing but you alone; the sighs that escape me as often as I think on you, that is, every moment; my imagination, which represents no other object than my dear prince; the complaints that I make to Heaven for the rigour of my destiny; in a word, my grief, my trouble, my torments, which give me no ease ever since I lost the sight of you, are witnesses of what I write.

Am not I unhappy to be born to love, without hope of enjoying him whom I love? This doleful thought oppresses me so much, that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me: but this sweet comfort balances my despair, and preserves my life. Tell me that you love me always; I will keep your letter carefully, and read it a thousand times a day; I will endure my afflictions with less impatience. I pray Heaven may cease to be angry at us, and grant us an opportunity to say that we love one another without fear; and that we may never cease to love! Adieu. I salute Ebn Thaher, who has so much obliged us.

The prince of Persia was not satisfied to read the letter once; he thought he had read it with too little attention, and therefore read it again with more leisure; and as he read, sometimes he uttered sighs, sometimes he wept, and sometimes he discovered transports of joy and affection, as one who was touched with what he read. In a word, he could not keep his eyes off those characters drawn by so lovely a hand, and therefore began to read it a third time. Then Ebn Thaher told him that the confident could not stay, and he ought to think of giving an answer. Alas! cried the prince, how would you have me answer so kind a letter? In what terms shall I express the trouble that I am in? My spirit is tossed with a thousand tormenting things, and my thoughts destroy one another the same momunt they are conceived, to make way for more; and so long as my body suffers by the impressions of my mind, how shall I be able to hold paper, or a reed [Footnote The Arabians, Persians, and Turks, when they write, hold the paper ordinarily upon their knees with their left hands, and write with their right, with a little reed or cane cut like our pens; this cane is hollow, and resembles our reeds, but is harder.], to write? Having spoken thus, he took out of a little desk paper, cane, and ink.

The prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave Schemselnihar's letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it open while he wrote, that, by casting his eyes upon it, he might see the better what to answer. He began to write; but the tears that fell from his eyes upon the paper obliged him several times to stop, that they might trickle down the more freely. At last he finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, Read it, I pray, said he, do me the favour to see if the disorder of my mind has allowed me to give a reasonable answer. Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselnihar's Letter.

I was swallowed up with mortal grief before I received your letter, at the sight of which I was transported with unspeakable joy; and the view of the characters written by your lovely hand enlightened my eyes more sensibly than they were darkened when yours were closed on a sudden at the feet of my rival. Those words which your courteous letter contains, are so many rays of light, which have dispelled the darkness with which my soul was obscured; they show me how much you suffer by your love to me, and that you are not ignorant of what I endure for you, and thereby comfort me in my afflictions. On the one hand, they make me shed tears in abundance; and, on the other, they inflame my heart—with a fire which supports it, and hinders my dying of grief. I have not had one moment's rest since our cruel separation. Your letter only gave me some ease. I kept a sorrowful silence till the moment I received it, and then it restored me to speech. I was buried in a profound melancholy, but it inspired me with joy, which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance. But my surprise at receiving a favour which I had not deserved was so great, that I knew not which way to begin to testify my thankfulness for it. In a word, after having kissed it as a valuable pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune. You would have me to signify to you that I always love you. Ah! though I did not love you so perfectly as I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you have given me of a love so uncommon: yes, I love you, my dear soul, and shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet fire you have kindled in my heart. I will never complain of the brisk ardour with which I find it consumes me; and how rigorous soever the grief be which I suffer, I will bear it corageously, in hopes to see you some time or other. Would to Heaven it were today; and that, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come and assure you that I die for love of you! My tears hinder me from saying any more. Adieu.

Ebn Thaher could not read these last lines without weeping. He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction. The prince shut it, and when he had sealed it, desired the trusty slave to come near, and told her, This is my answer to your dear mistress; I conjure you to carry it to her, and to salute her in my name. The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.

After Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her, went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue in which he found himself unhappily engaged. He considered that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, managed with so little discretion, that it could not be long a secret. He drew all the consequences from it which a man of good sense ought to do. Were Schemselnihar, said he to himself, an ordinary lady, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her sweetheart happy; but she is the caliph's favourite, and no man can without danger undertake to displease him. His anger will fall at first upon Schemselnihar; it will cost the prince of Persia his life; and I shall be embarked in his misfortune. In the mean time, I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve; I must then, while I can, deliver myself out of so great a danger.

He was taken up with these thoughts all the day; next morning he went to the prince of Persia, with a design to use his utmost endeavors to oblige him to conquer his passion. He actually represented to him what he had formerly done in vain; that it would be much better to make use of all his courage to overcome his inclinations for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be conquered by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was the more potent. In a word, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your amour, otherwise you run a risk of destroying yourself, with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this counsel as a friend, for which you will thank me some time or other.

The prince heard Ebn Thaher with a great deal of impatience, but suffered him, however, to speak out his mind; and then replied to him thus: Ebn Thaher, said he, do you think I can forbear to love Schemselnihar, who loves me so tenderly? She is not afraid to expose her life for me, and would you have me to regard mine? No; whatever misfortune befal me, I will love Schemselnihar to my last breath.

Ebn Thaher, being offended at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left him hastily; and, going to his own house, recalled to mind what he thought on the other day, and began to think in earnest what he should do. At the same time a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to see him: this jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar's confident came oftener to Ebn Thaher than usual, and that he was constantly with the prince of Persia, whose sickness was known to every one, though not the cause of it. The jeweller began to be suspicious, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, judged presently that he was perplexed with some important affair; and fancying that he knew the cause, he asked what Schemselniliar's confident wanted with him. Ebn Thaher, being struck with this question, dissembled, and told him, that it was a mere trifle that brought her so frequently to him. You do not tell me the truth, said the jeweller, and give me ground to think, by your dissimulation, that this trifle is an affair of more importance than at first I thought. Ebn Thaher, perceiving that his friend pressed him so much, said to him, It is true that it is an affair of the greatest consequence: I had resolved to keep it secret; but since I know how much you are my friend, I choose rather to make you my confident, than to suffer you to be in a mistake about it. I do not recommend it to you to keep the secret, for you will easily judge, by what I am going to tell you, how important it is to keep it. After this preamble, he told him the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia. You know, continued he, in what esteem I am at court, in the city, and with lords and ladies of the greatest quality; what a disgrace would it be for me, should this rash intrigue come to be discovered? But what do I say? Should not I and my family be quite destroyed? That is the thing perplexes my mind. But I have just now come to such a resolution as I ought to make: I will go immediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts; when I have secured my estate, I will retire to Balsora, and stay till the tempest I foresee blows over. The friendship I have for Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to what danger they are exposed. I pray Heaven to discover it to themselves, and to preserve them; but if their ill destiny will have their amours come to the knowledge of the caliph, I shall at least be out of the reach of his resentment; for I do not think them so wicked as to design to draw me into their misfortunes. It would be extreme ingratitude in them to do so, and a sorry reward for the good service I have done them, particularly to the prince of Persia, who may save himself and his mistress from this precipice, if he pleases: he may as easily leave Bagdad as I; absence would insensibly disengage him from a passion which will only increase whilst he continues in this place.

The jeweller was extremely surprised at what Ebn Thaher told him. What you say to me, said he, is of so great importance, that I cannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince have been capable of abandoning themselves to such a violent amour. What inclination soever they may have for one another, instead of yielding to it, they ought to resist it, and make a better use of their reason. Is it possible they can be insensible of the dangerous consequences of their correspondence? How deplorable is their blindness! I perceive all the consequences of it as well as you; but you are wise and prudent, and I approve your resolution; that is the only way to deliver yourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear. The jeweller then rose, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher.

Before the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him, by the friendship betwixt them, to speak nothing of this to any person. Be not afraid, said the jeweller; I will keep this secret on peril of my life.

Two days after, the jeweller went to Ebn Thaher's shop; and, seeing it shut, doubted not that he had executed the design he had spoken of; but, to be certain, he asked a neighbour if he knew why it was shut? The neighbour answered, that he knew not, unless Ebn Thaher was gone a journey. There was no need of his inquiring further, and immediately he thought upon the prince of Persia: Unhappy prince, said he to himself, what grief will you suffer when you hear this news? By what means will you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar? I fear you will die of despair. I have compassion on you; I must make up the loss that you have of a too timid confident.

The business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence, so that he neglected it; and though he did not know the prince of Persia, but only by having sold him some jewels, he went strait to his house, addressed himself to one of his servants, and prayed him to tell his master that he desired to speak with him about business of very great importance. The servant returned immediately to the jeweller, and introduced him to the chamber of the prince, who was leaning on a sofa, with his head upon a cushion. As soon as the prince saw him, he rose to receive him, said he was welcome, entreated him to sit down, and asked if he could serve him in any thing, or if he came to tell him any matter concerning himself. Prince, answered the jeweller, though I have not the honour to be particularly acquainted with you, yet the desire of testifying my zeal has made me take the liberty to come to your house, to impart to you some news that concerns you. I hope you will pardon my boldness, because of my good intention.

After this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and pursued it thus: Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it is a long time since the conformity of humour, and several affairs we had together, united Ebn Thaher and myself in strict friendship. I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has been employed in obliging you in all that he could. I am informed of this from himself; for he keeps nothing secret from me, nor I from him. I went just now to his shop, and was surprised to find it shut. I addressed myself to one of his neighbours, to ask the reason; he answered me, that, two days ago, Ebn Thater took his leave of him and other neighbours, offering them his service at Balsora, whither he was gone, he said, about an affair of great importance. Not being satisfied with this answer, the concern that I have for whatever belongs to him, determined me to come and ask you if you knew any thing particularly concerning his sudden departure.

At this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject, that he might come the better to his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked so as made the jeweller sensible that he was afflicted with the news. I am surprised at what you inform me, said he; there could not befal me a greater misfortune. Ah! said he, with tears in his eyes, I am undone if what you tell me be true! Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, and in whom I put all my confidence, left me! I cannot think of living after so cruel a blow.

The jeweller needed no more to convince him fully of the prince of Persia's violent passion, which Ebn Thaher had told him: mere friendship would not let him speak so; nothing but love could produce such feeling expressions.

The prince continued some moments swallowed up with these melancholy thoughts: at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his servants, Go, said he, to Ebn Timber's house, and ask any of his domestics if he be gone to Balsora; run and come back quickly, and tell me what you hear. While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to entertain the prince of Persia with indifferent subjects; but the prince gave little heed to him, for he was a prey to fatal grief. Sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher was gone; at other times he did not doubt the truth of it, when he reflected upon the discourse he had the last time he saw him, and the angry countenance with which he left him.

At last the prince's servant returned, and reported that he had spoken to one of Ebn Thaher servants, who assured him that he was gone two days before to Balsora. As I came from Ebn Thaher's house, added the servant, a slave well arrayed came to me, and, asking if I had the honour to belong to you, she told me she wanted to speak with you, begging, at the same time, that she might come along with me: she is now in the house, and I believe has a letter to give you from some person of note. The prince commanded him to bring her in immediately: he doubted not but it was Schemselnihar's confident slave, as indeed it was. The jeweller knew who she was, having seen her several times at Ebn Thaher's house. She could not have come at a better time to hinder the prince from despair.

She saluted him, and the prince of Persia did likewise salute Schemselnihar's confident. The jeweller rose as soon as he saw her appear, and stepped aside, to leave them at liberty to speak together. The confident, after conversing some time with the prince, took leave, and departed. She left him quite another thing than before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more gay; which made the jeweller know that the good slave came to tell him some news that favoured his amour.

The jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to him, smiling, I see, prince, you have important affairs at the caliph's palace. The prince of Persia was astonished and alarmed at this discourse, and answered the jeweller, why do you judge that I have affairs at the caliph's palace? I judge, replied the jeweller, by the slave that is gone forth. To whom, think you, belongs this slave? said the prince. To Schemselnihar, the caliph's favourite, answered the jeweller. I know, continued he, both the slave and her mistress, who have several times done me the honour to come to my house, and buy jewels. Besides, I know that Schemselnihar keeps nothing secret from this slave; and I have seen her go and come for several days along the streets, very much troubled, which made me imagine that it was upon some affair of consequence concerning her mistress.

The jeweller's words did much trouble the prince of Persia. He would not say so, said he to himself, if he did not suspect, or rather know, my secret. He remained silent for some time, not knowing what to answer. At length he said to the jeweller, You have told me those things which make me believe that you know yet more than you have acquainted me with. It will tend much to my quiet if I be perfectly informed; I conjure you, therefore, not to dissemble.

Then the jeweller, who desired no better, gave him a particular account of what had passed between Ebn Thaher and himself; so that he let him know that he was informed of his correspondence with Schemselnihar; and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher was afraid of the danger of being his confident in the matter, which was partly the occasion of his retiring to Balsora, to stay till the storm which he feared should he over. This he has done, added the jeweller; and I am surprised how he could determine to abandon you in the condition he informed me you was in. As for me, prince, I confess I am moved with compassion towards you, and am come to offer you my service; and if you do me the favour to accept of it, I engage myself to be as faithful to you as Ebn Thaher; besides, I promise to be more constant, I am ready to sacrifice my honour and life for you; and, in fine, that you may not doubt my sincerity, I swear, by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep your secret inviolable! Be persuaded, then, that you will find in me the friend that you have lost. This discourse encouraged the prince, and comforted him under Ebn Thaher's absence. I am very glad, said he to the jeweller, to find in you a reparation of my loss: I want words to express the obligations I am under to you. I pray God to recompense your generosity; and I accept your obliging offer with all my heart. Believe it, continued he, that Schemselnihar's confident came to speak to me concerning you; she told me that it was you who advised Ebn Thaher to go from Bagdad; these were the last words she spoke to me when she went away, and had almost persuaded me of it. But do not resent it; for I doubt not but she is deceived, after what you have told me. Prince, replied the jeweller, I have had the honour to give you a faithful account of my conversation with Ebn Thaher. It is true, when he told me he would return to Balsora, I did not oppose his design, but said he was a wise and prudent man; and, that this may not hinder you from putting confidence in me, I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal; which though you do otherwise, this shall not hinder me from keeping your secret religiously according to my oath. I have already told you, replied the prince, that I would not believe what the confident said; it is her zeal that inspired her with this groundless suspicion, and you ought to excuse it, as I do.

They continued their conversation for some time, and consulted together of convenient means to continue the prince's correspondence with Schemselnihar: they agreed to begin by disabusing the confident, who was so unjustly prepossessed against the jeweller. The prince engaged to undeceive her the first time she returned, and to entreat her to engage herself to the jeweller, that she might bring the letters, or any other information, from her mistress to him. In fine, they agreed that she ought not to come so frequently to the prince's house, because she might thereby give occasion to discover that which was of so great importance to conceal. At last the jeweller rose, and, after having again prayed the prince of Persia to have an entire confidence in him, retired.

The jeweller, returning to his house, perceived before him a letter which somebody had dropped in the street; he took it up; and, not being sealed, he opened it, and found that it contained as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

I am informed by my confident of a piece of news which troubles me no less than it does you: By losing Ebn Thaher, we have indeed lost much; but let this not hinder you, dear prince, thinking to preserve yourself. If our confident has abandoned us through a slavish fear, let us consider that it is a misfortune which we could not avoid. I confess Ebn Thaher has left us at a time when we need him most; but let us fortify ourselves by patience against this unlooked-for accident, and let us not forbear to love one another constantly. Fortify your heart against this misfortune. Nobody can obtain what they desire without trouble. Let us not discourage ourselves, but hope that Heaven will favour us; and that, after so many afflictions, we shall come to a happy accomplishment of our desires. Adieu.

While the jeweller was conversing with the prince of Persia, the confident had time to return to the palace, and tell her mistress the ill news of Ebn Thaher's departure. Schemselniliar immediately wrote this letter, and sent back her confident with it to the prince of Persia; but she negligently dropped it.

The jeweller was glad to find it; for it was a good way to set him right with the confident, and bring him to the point he desired. When he had read it, he perceived the slave, who sought it with a great deal of uneasiness, looking about every where. He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but the slave took notice of it, and ran to him. Sir, said she, I have dropped a letter which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you be pleased to restore it. The jeweller, taking no notice that he heard her, continued his way till he came to his house. He did not shut the door behind him, that the confident, who followed him, might come in. She accordingly did so; and when she came to his chamber, Sir, said she to him, you can make no use of the letter you have found; and you would make no difficulty in returning it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is directed. Besides, let me tell you, you cannot honestly keep it.

Before the jeweller answered the confident, he made her sit down, and said to her, Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and directed to the prince of Persia? The slave, who expected no such question, blushed. The question puzzles you, replied he, but I assure you I do not propose it rashly: I could have given you the letter in the street, but I suffered you to follow me, on purpose that I might discourse with you. Tell me, is it just to impute an unhappy accident to people who no ways contributed towards it? Yet this you have done, in telling the prince of Persia that it was I who counselled Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own safety. I do not intend to lose time in justifying myself to you; it is enough that the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence in this matter: I will only tell you, that instead of contributing to Ebn Thaher's departure, I have been extremely afflicted at it; not so much for my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the condition in which he left the prince of Persia, whose correspondence with Schemselnihar he has acknowledged to me. As soon as I knew certainly that Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I presented myself to the prince, in whose house you found me, to inform him of this news, and to offer him the same service which he did him; and, provided you put the same confidence in me that you did in Ebn Thaher, you may serve yourself by my assistance. Inform your mistress of what I have told you, and assure her, that if I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I will rejoice to have sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of each other.

The confident, after having heard the jeweller with great satisfaction, begged him to pardon her the ill opinion she had conceived of him, out of the zeal she had for her mistress. I am extremely glad, added she, that Schemselnihar and the prince have found you, who are a man fit to supply Ebn Thaher's place, and I shall not fail to signify to my mistress the good-will you bear her. After the confident had testified to the jeweller her joy to see him so well disposed to serve Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, the jeweller took the letter out of his bosom, and restored it to her, saying, Go, carry it quickly to the prince of Persia, and come back this way, that I may see the answer. Forget not to give him an account of our conversation.

The confident took the letter, and carried it to the prince, who answered it immediately. She returned to the jeweller's house to show him the answer, which was this:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselniliar.

Your precious letter had a great effect upon me, but not so great as I could wish. You endeavour to comfort me for the loss of Ebn Thaher; but, alas! sensible as I am of this, it is the least of my troubles! You know my malady, and that your presence only can cure me. When will the time come that I shall enjoy it without fear of being ever deprived of it? O how long does it seem to me! But shall we rather flatter ourselves that we may see one another? You command me to preserve myself; I will obey, since I have renounced my own will to follow yours. Adieu.

After the jeweller had read this letter, he gave it again to the confident, who said, when she was going away, I will tell my mistress to put the same confidence in you that she did in Ebn Thaher, and you shall hear of me to-morrow. Accordingly, next day she returned with a pleasant countenance. Your very look, said he to her, informs me that you have brought Schemselnihar to what you wished. That is true, said the confident, sand you shall hear how I effected it. Yesterday, continued she, I found Schemselnihar expecting me with impatience; I gave her the prince of Persia's letter, which she read with tears in her eyes; and when she had done, I observed she had abandoned herself to her usual sorrow. Madam, said I, it is doubtless Ebn Thaher's removal that troubles you; but suffer me to conjure you, in the name of God, not to concern yourself any further about that matter. We have found another who offers to oblige you with as much zeal, and, what is yet more important, with greater courage. Then I mentioned you, continued the slave, and acquainted her with the motive which made you go to the prince of Persia's house. In short, I assured her that you would inviolably keep the secret betwixt her and the prince of Persia, and that you was* resolved to favour their amours with all your might. She seemed to me much relieved by my discourse. Ah! what obligations, said she, are the prince of Persia and I under to that honest man you speak of? I must see him, that I may hear from his own mouth what you tell me, and thank him for such an unheard-of piece of generosity towards persons with whom he is no way obliged to concern himself. A sight of him will please me; and I will not omit any thing to confirm him in those good sentiments. Do not fail to bring him to-morrow. Therefore, pray, sir, go with me lo the palace.

The confident's discourse perplexed the jeweller. Your mistress, replied he, must allow me to say, that she has not thought well of what she requires. Ebn Thaher's access to the caliph gave him admission every where; and the officers, who knew him, suffered him to go and come freely to Schemselnihar's palace; but, as for me, how dare I enter? You see well enough that it is not possible. I entreat you to represent those reasons to Schemselnihar which hinder me giving her that satisfaction, and acquaint her with all the ill consequences that would result from it. If she considers it ever so little, she will find that it would expose me needlessly to very great danger.

The confident endeavoured to encourage the jeweller: Believe me, said he, that Schemselnihar is not so unreasonable as to expose you to the least danger, from whom she expects such considerable services. Consider with yourself that there is not the least appearance of hazard: my mistress and I are too much interested in this affair to involve you in any danger. You may depend upon me, and leave yourself to my conduct. After the affair is over, you will confess to me that your fear was groundless.

The jeweller hearkened to the confident's discourse, and got up to follow her; but, notwithstanding his natural courage, he was seized with such terror that his whole body trembled. In the condition you are in, said she, I perceive it will be better for you to stay at home, and that Schemselnihar take other measures to see you. It is not to be doubted but that, to satisfy her desire, she will come hither herself. The case being so, sir, I would not have you to go, as I am persuaded it will not be long before she comes to you. The confident foresaw this very well; for she no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the jeweller's fear, than she made ready to go to his house.

He received her with all the marks of profound respect. When she sat down, being a little fatigued with walking, she unveiled herself, and discovered to the jeweller such beauty as made him acknowledge that the prince of Persia was excusable in giving his heart to her. Then she saluted the jeweller with a graceful countenance, and said to him, I am informed with what zeal you have engaged in the prince of Persia's concerns and mine; but, without immediately forming a design to express my gratitude, I thank Heaven, which has so soon made up Ebn Thaher's loss.

Schemselnihar said several other obliging things to the jeweller, after which she returned to her palace. The jeweller went immediately to give an account of this visit to the prince of Persia, who said to him, as soon as he saw him, I have expected you impatiently. The trusty slave has brought me a letter from her mistress, but she does not comfort me: whatever the lovely Schemselnihar says, I dare not hope for any thing; my patience is at an end; I know not now what measures to take. Ebn Thaher's departure makes me despair; he was my only support; I lost all by losing him, for I flattered myself with some hopes by reason of his access to Schemselnihar.

After these words, which the prince pronounced with so much eagerness that he gave the jeweller no time to interrupt him, he said to the prince, No man can bear a greater share of your affliction than I do; and if you will have patience to hear me, you will perceive that I am capable of giving you ease. Upon this the prince became silent, and hearkened to him. I see very well, said the jeweller, that the only thing to give you satisfaction is to fall upon a way that you may converse freely with Schemselnihar. This I will procure you, and to-morrow will set about it. You must by no means expose yourself to enter Schemselnihar's palace; you know by experience the danger of that: I know a very fit place for this interview, where you shall be safe. When the jeweller had spoken thus, the prince embraced him with a transport of joy. You revive, said he, by this charming promise, an unhappy lover who was resolved to die; I see that you have fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher: whatever you do will be well done; I leave myself entirely to you.

The prince, after thanking the jeweller for his zeal, returned home, and next morning Schemselnihar's confident came to him. He told her that he had put the prince of Persia in hopes that he should see Schemselnihar speedily. I am come purposely, answered she, to take measures with you for that end. I think, continued she, this house will be convenient enough for their interview. I could receive them very well here, replied he; but I think they will have more liberty in another house of mine, where nobody lives at present; I will quickly furnish it for receiving them. Since the matter is so, replied the confident, there remains nothing for me to do but to make Sehemselnihar consent to it. I will go tell her, and return speedily with an answer.

She was as diligent as her promise; and, returning to the jeweller, told him that her mistress would not fail to keep the appointment in the evening. In the mean time she gave him a purse of money to prepare a collation. He sent her immediately to the house where the lovers were to meet, that she might know whither to bring her mistress; and when she was gone, he went to borrow from his friends vessels of gold and silver, tapestry, rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he furnished the house very magnificently; and, when he had put all things in order, went to the prince of Persia.

You may easily conceive the prince of Persia's joy, when the jeweller told him that he came to conduct him to the house he had prepared to receive him and Schemselnihar. This news obliterated all his former trouble. He put on a magnificent robe, and went without his retinue along with the jeweller, who led him through several by-streets, that nobody might observe him, and at last brought him to the house, where they discoursed together until Schemselnihar came.

They did not stay long for this passionate lover. She came after evening-prayers, with her confident and two other slaves. The excess of joy that seized those two lovers, when they saw one another, it is altogether impossible to express. They sat down together upon the sofa for some time, without being able to speak, they were so much overjoyed; but, when speech returned to them, they soon made up for their silence. They expressed themselves with so much tenderness, as made the jeweller, the confident, and the two other slaves, weep. The jeweller, however, restrained his tears to think upon the collation, which he brought. The lovers ate and drank a little, after which they again sat down on the sofa. Schemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other instrument. The jeweller, who took care to provide all that might please them, brought her a lute, which she took some time to tune, and then played.

While Schemselnihar was thus charming the prince of Persia, and expressing her passion by words composed extempore, a great noise was heard, and immediately the slave whom the jeweller brought with him appeared in a terrible fright, to tell him that some people were breaking up the gate; that he asked who it was, but, instead of an answer, the blows were redoubled. The jeweller, being alarmed, left Schemselnihar and the prince, to go and inform himself of the truth of this bad news. There was already got into the court a company of men armed with bayonets and scimitars, who had entered privately, and, having broken up the gate, came straight towards him: he stood close to a wall for fear of his life, and saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them; and, finding that he could give no help to the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he satisfied himself with bewailing them, and fled for refuge to a neighbour's house, who was not yet gone to bed. He did not doubt that this unexpected violence was by the caliph's order, who, he thought, had been informed of his favourite's meeting with the prince of Persia. He heard a great noise in his own house, which continued till midnight; and when all was quiet, as he thought, he prayed his neighbour to lend him a scimitar, and, being thus armed, went on till he came to the gate of his own house. He entered the court full of fear, and perceived a man, who asked him who he was? He knew by his voice that it was his own slave. How didst thou do, said he, to avoid being taken by the watch? Sir, answered the slave, I hid myself in a corner of the court, and I went out as soon as I heard the noise. But it was not the watch who broke your house; they were highwaymen, who within these few days robbed another in this neighbourhood: they have doubtless had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and had that in their view.

The jeweller thought his slave's conjecture probable: he entered the house, and saw that the highwaymen had taken all the furniture out of the chamber where he received Schemselnihar and her lover; that they had also carried off the vessels of gold and silver, and, in a word, had left nothing. Being in this condition, O Heaven! cried he, I am irrecoverably undone! What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make, when I tell them that highwaymen have broken into my house, and robbed me of all that they generously lent me? I shall never be able to make up their loss. Besides, what is become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia? This business will be so public, that it is impossible but it must reach the caliph's ears. He will get notice of this meeting, and I shall fall a sacrifice to his fury. The slave, who loved him, endeavoured to comfort him thus: As to Schemselnihar, said he, the highwaymen probably would content themselves to strip her; and you have reason to think that she is retired to her palace with her slaves. The prince of Persia is probably in the same condition; so that you have reason to hope that the caliph will never know of this adventure. As for the loss your friends have sustained, that is a misfortune which you could not avoid. They know very well the highwaymen to be so numerous, that they have not only pillaged the house I have already spoken of, but many other houses of the principal noblemen of the court; and they are not ignorant that, notwithstanding the orders given to apprehend them, nobody has yet been able to seize any of them. You will be acquitted by restoring your friends the value of the things that are stolen; and, blessed be God, you have enough left.

Waiting till day, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the gate of the house, which was broken up, as well as he could: after which he returned to his ordinary house with his slave, making sad reflections on what had befallen him. Ebn Thaher, said he to himself, has been wiser than I; he foresaw the misfortune into which I have blindly thrown myself: would to God I had never meddled in this intrigue, which I fear will cost me my life!

It was scarcely day, when the report of the robbery had spread through the city, and there came to the house a great many of the jeweller's friends and neighbours, to testify their grief for this misfortune, but were curious to know the particulars. He thanked them for their affection, and was so much the better satisfied, that he heard nobody speak of Schemselnihar or the prince of Persia, which made him believe they were at their houses. or in some secure place.

When the jeweller was alone, his servants brought him something to eat, but he could not taste a bit. About noon one of his slaves came to tell him that a man was at the gate, whom he knew not, and desired to speak with him. The jeweller, not willing to receive a stranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak with him. Though you do not know me, said the man, I know you, and am come to discourse with you on an important affair. The jeweller prayed him to step in. No, answered the stranger; if you please, rather take the trouble to go with me to your other house. How know you, replied the jeweller, that I have another house? I know well enough, answered the stranger: follow me, do not fear any thing; I have something to communicate to you which will please you. The jeweller went immediately with him; and after he had considered by the way how the house they were going to was robbed, he said to him that it was not fit to receive him.

When they were before the house, and the stranger saw the gate half broken down, he said to the jeweller, I see you have told me the truth; I will carry you to a place which will be more convenient. He went on when he had spoken thus, and walked all the rest of the day without stopping. The jeweller being weary with walking, vexed to see night approach, and the stranger having walked all day without acquainting him where he was going, began to lose patience. Then they came to a path which led them to the Tigris; and as soon as they came to the river, they crossed in a little boat. The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he had never been before, and, after taking him through several streets, stopped at a gate, which he opened. He caused the jeweller to go in, shut the gate, bolted it with a huge iron bolt, and then conducted, him to a chamber, where there were ten other men, all as great strangers to the jeweller as his conductor.

The ten men received the jeweller without any compliments. They bid him sit down; of which he had great need, for he was not only weak with walking so far, but the fear be was in, on finding himself with people whom he thought he had reason to dread, would have disabled him from standing. They waited for their leader to supper, and, as soon as he came, it was served up. They washed their hands, obliging the jeweller to do the like, and to sit at table with them. After supper, the men asked him if he knew to whom he spoke. He answered, No, and that he knew not the place he was in. Tell us your last nights adventure, said they to him, and conceal nothing from us. The jeweller, being astonished at this discourse, answered, Gentlemen, it is probable you know it already. That is true, replied they, the young man and the young lady, who were at your house yesternight, told it us; but we would know it from your own mouth. The jeweller needed no more to be informed that they were the highwaymen who had broken up and plundered his house. Gentlemen, said he, I am much troubled for that young man and the lady; can you tell me any thing of them?

Upon the jeweller's inquiry if they knew any thing of the young man and the young lady, the thieves answered, Be not concerned for them; they are safe enough, and in good health: which saying, they showed him two closets, where they assured him they were separately shut up. They added, We are informed you only know what relates to them; which we no sooner came to understand, than we showed them all imaginable respect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated them with all the kindness we were capable of on your account. You may secure yourself the like favour, proceeded they, in regard to your own person, and put all manner of confidence in us without the least reserve.

The jeweller, being heartened at this, and overjoyed to hear that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage the thieves yet further in their interest. For this purpose he commended them, flattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions. Gentlemen, said he, I must confess I have not the honour of knowing you; yet it is no small happiness to me that I am not wholly unknown to you; and I can never be sufficiently grateful for the favours which that knowledge has procured me at your hands. Without mentioning so great an act of humanity as that I lately received from you, I must needs say, I am fully persuaded that no persons in the world can be so proper to be trusted with a secret, and none more fit to undertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good issue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity. In confidence of these great and good qualities, which are so much your due, I will not scruple to relate to you my whole history, with that of the two persons you found in my house.

After the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the thieves to secrecy, he made no scruple to relate to them the whole amour of the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the beginning of it to the time he received them into his house.

The thieves were greatly astonished at the surprising particulars they heard, and could not forbear crying out, How! is it possible that the young man should be the illustrious Ali Elm Becar, prince of Persia; and the young lady the fair and celebrated Schemselnihar! The jeweller assured them nothing was more certain, and that they needed not to think it strange that persons of so distinguished a character should not care to be known.

Upon this assurance of their quality, the thieves went immediately, one after the other, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring pardon, and begging them to believe they would never have offered any violence to their persons, had they known who they were; but, seeing they did not, they would by their future conduct do their best endeavours to make some recompence at least for the crime they had thus ignorantly committed. Having made profound reverences, they returned to the jeweller, and told him they were heartily sorry they could not restore all that had been taken from him, some part of it being out of their possession; but as for what remained, if he would content himself with his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hands.

The jeweller was overjoyed at the favour; and after the thieves had delivered the plate, they required the prince, Schemselnihar, and him, to promise upon oath that they would not betray them, and they would carry them to a place whence they might easily go to their respective homes. The prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, replied, that they might rely on their words; but since they desired an oath of them, they solemnly swore not to discover them so long as they were with them. With this the thieves were satisfied, and immediately set out to perform their promise.

By the way, the jeweller, being concerned that he could not see the confident and the two slaves, came up to Schemselnihar and begged her to inform him what was become of them. She answered, she knew nothing of them, and that all she could tell him was, that she was carried away from his house, ferried over a river, and brought to the place from whence they were just now come.

Schemselnihar and the jeweller had no further discourse; they found themselves at the brink of a river, whence the thieves immediately took boat, and carried them to the other side.

Whilst the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, were landing, they heard a noise as of horse-guards that were coming towards them. The thieves no sooner perceived the danger, but they took to their oars, and got over to the other side of the river in an instant.

The commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, who they were, and whence they came so late. This frightened them at first so much that they could not speak; but at length the jeweller found his tongue, and said, Sir, I can assure you, we are very honest people; but those persons who have just landed us, and are got to the other side of the water, are thieves, who, having last night broken open the house that we were in, pillaged it, and afterwards carried us to an obscure inn, where, by some entreaty and good management, we prevailed on them to let us have our liberty; to which end they brought us hither. They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from us. At these words he showed the plate he had recovered.

The commander, not being satisfied with what the jeweller told him, came up to him and the prince of Persia, and, looking steadfastly at them, said, Tell me truly who is this lady? how came you to know her? and whereabouts do you live?

This demand surprised them strangely, and tied their tongues, insomuch that neither of them could answer; till at length Schemselnihar, taking the commander aside, told him frankly who she was; which he no sooner came to know, than he alighted, paid both her and the company great respect, and caused two boats to be got ready for their service.

When the boats were come, he put Schemselnihar into one, and the prince of Persia and the jeweller into the other, with two of his people in each: they had orders to accompany them whithersoever they were bound. Being abroad, the two boats took different routes; but we shall at present speak only of that wherein were the prince and the jeweller.

The prince, to save his guides trouble, bid them land the jeweller with him, and named the place whither he would go. The guides, mistaking his orders, stopped just before the caliph's palace, which put both him and the jeweller into a fright, though he durst discover nothing of the matter; for though they had heard the commander's orders to his men, they could not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard, and brought before the caliph next morning.

This, nevertheless, was not the intention of the guides; for, after they had landed them, they, by their master's command, recommended them to an officer of the guard, who next morning assigned them soldiers to conduct them by land to the prince's chateau, which was at some distance from the river.

The prince being come home, what with the fatigue of his journey, and the affliction he conceived at being never likely again to see Schemselnihar, fell into a swoon on his sofa; and while the greater part of his servants was endeavouring to recover him, the other part gathered about the jeweller, and begged of him to tell them what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had occasioned inexpressible disquiet.

The jeweller, who would discover nothing to them that was not prudent to be repealed, told them it was not a proper time for such a relation, and that they would do better to go and assist the prince, than require anything of him, especially at that juncture. The prince fortunately came to himself that very moment; when those that but just before required his history with so much earnestness, began now to get at a distance, and pay that respect which was due from them. Although the prince had in some measure recovered himself, yet he continued so weak, that he could not open his mouth. He answered only by signs, and that even to his nearest relations who spoke to him. He remained in the same condition till next morning, when the jeweller came to take leave of him. His answer was only with a wink, holding forth his right hand; but when he saw he was loaded with the bundle of plate the thieves had taken from him, he made a sign to his servants that they should take and carry it along with him to his house.

The jeweller had been expected home with great impatience by his family the day he went forth with the man that came to ask for him, and whom he did not know; but no who was quite given over, and it was no longer doubted that some disaster had befallen him. His wife, children, and servants, were in continual grief, and lamented him night and day; but at length, when they saw him again, their joy was so great, they could hardly contain themselves; yet they were troubled to find that his countenance was greatly altered from what it had been before, insomuch that he was hardly to be known. This was thought to have been occasioned by his great fatigue, and the fears he had undergone, which would not let him sleep. Finding himself something out of order, he continued within doors for two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends to visit him.

The third day, perceiving himself better, he thought he might regain strength by going abroad, and therefore went to the shop of a rich friend of his, with whom he continued long in discourse. As he was rising to go home, he observed a woman make a sign to him, whom he presently knew to be the confident of Schemselnihar. Partly out of fear, and partly through joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she followed him, as he very well knew she would, the place in which they saw each other being by no means proper for an interview. As he walked a little faster than usual, she could not overtake him, and therefore every now and then called out to stop. He heard her, it is true; but, after what had happened, he did not think fit to take notice of her in public, for fear of giving cause to believe that he had been with Schemselnihar. In short, it was known to every body in Bagdad that this woman belonged to her, and therefore he thought it prudent to conceal his having any knowledge of her. He continued the same pace, and at last came to a mosque, where he knew but few people resorted; there he entered, and she after him, wherein they had a long converse together, without any body overhearing them.

Both the jeweller and the confident expressed a great deal of joy at seeing each other after the strange adventure occasioned by the thieves, and their reciprocal concern for each other's welfare, without mentioning a word of what related to their own particular persons.

The jeweller would needs have her relate to him how she escaped with the two slaves, and what she knew of Sehemselnihar from the time he had left her; but so great were her importunities to be informed of what had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that he found himself obliged to comply. Having finished what she desired, he told her that he expected she would oblige him in her turn; which she did in the following manner.

When I first saw the thieves, said she, I imagined, rightly considered, that they were of the caliph's guard, who, being informed of the escape of Schemselnihar, had sent them to take away the lives of the prince and us all; but, being convinced of the error of that thought, I immediately got upon the leads of your house, at the same time that the thieves entered the chamber where the prince and Schemselnihar were, and was soon after followed by that lady's two slaves. From lead to lead, we came at last to a house of very honest people, who received us with a great deal of civility, and with whom we lodged that night.

Next morning, after we had returned thanks to the master of the house for our good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar's hotel, which we entered in great disorder, and the more so as we could not learn the fate of the two unfortunate lovers. The other women of Schemselnihar were astonished to see me return without their lady. We told them we had left her at the house of a lady, one of her friends, and that she would send for us when she had a mind to come home; with which excuse they seemed well satisfied.

For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness; and when night came, opening a little back gate, I espied a boat driven along by the stream. Calling to the waterman, I desired him to row up the river, to see if he could not meet a lady, and, if he found her, to bring her along with him. The two slaves and I waited impatiently for his return; and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern. When the boat came up, the two men helped the woman to rise; and then it was that I knew her to be Schemselnihar. I rejoiced so greatly to see her, that I cannot sufficiently express myself.

I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat. She had no small occasion for my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When she was ashore, she whispered me in the ear in an afflicted tone, bidding me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and give to the soldiers who had waited on her. I obeyed, leaving her to be supported by the two slaves; and, having paid the waterman, shut the back door.

I then followed my lady, who was hardly got to her chamber before I overtook her. We undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been before she was ready to give up the ghost; in which condition she continued the remainder of the night. The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been much fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her. The other women and I, nevertheless, gave her all the assistance we possibly could. She persisted in swallowing nothing which we offered; and we must have despaired of her life, had I not persuaded her to take a spoonful or two of wine, which had a sensible effect on her. By mere importunity, we at length prevailed upon her to eat also.

When she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only mourned, groaned, and sighed, I begged her to tell me how she escaped out of the hands of the thieves. Why should you require of me, said she, with a profound sigh, what will but renew my grief? Would to God the thieves had taken away my life, rather than preserved it, as in that case my misfortunes would have had an end; whereas I now live but to increase my torment.

Madam, replied I, I beg you will not refuse me this favour. You cannot but know that unhappy people have a certain consolation in venting their misfortunes; and if you be pleased to relate yours, I doubt not that you will find some relief in so doing.

Why then, said she, lend your ear to a story the most afflicting that can be imagined. You must know, when I first saw the thieves entering with sword in hand, I believed it the last moment of my life: but dying did not then seem so shocking to me, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia. However, instead of murdering, two of the thieves were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods which they found in the house. When they had done, and had got their bundles upon their backs, they went away, carrying us along with them.

As we went along one of those who had the charge of us demanded of me briskly who I was: I answered, I was a dancer. He put the same question to the prince, who replied that he was a shopkeeper.

When they were come to the place whither they were going, I had new fears to alarm me; for they gathered about us, and, after considering well my habit, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to think that I had disguised my quality. Dancers, said they, do not use to be dressed as you are; pray tell us truly who you are.

When they saw I answered nothing, they asked the prince once more who he was; for they told him they perceived he was not the person he pretended. He did not satisfy them any more than I had done; but only told them he came to see the jeweller, who was the owner of the house where they found us. I know this jeweller, said one of the rogues, who seemed to have some authority over the rest; I have some obligations to him, of which he yet knows nothing; and I take upon me to bring him hither to-morrow morning from another house he has; but you must not expect to stir till he come and tell us who you are; though, in the mean time, I promise there shall be no manner of injury offered to you.

The jeweller was brought next morning, as he said; who, thinking to oblige us, as he really did, declared to the rogues the whole truth of the matter. The thieves no sooner knew who we were, but they came and asked my pardon; and I believe did the like to the prince, who was shut up in another room. They protested to me, they would not have broken open the jeweller's house, had they known whose it was. They soon after took us, (the prince, the jeweller, and myself), and carried us to the river-side, where, having put us on board the boat, they rowed us across the water; but we were no sooner landed, than a party of the horse-guards came up to us.

The rogues fled. I took the commander aside, and told him my name, informing him withal, that the night before I had be seized by robbers who forced me along with them; but having been told who I was, they had re*aleased me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account. He alighted and paid his respects to me; and expressing a great deal of joy for being able to oblige me, he caused two boats to be brought, putting me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, and the prince, and jeweller, with two more, into the other. My guides have conducted me hither; but what is become of the prince and his friend, I cannot tell.

I trust in Heaven, added she, with a shower of tears, no harm has happened to them since our separation; and I do not doubt that the prince's concern is equal to mine. The jeweller, to whom we have been so much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss he has sustained on our account. Do not you therefore fail, said she, speaking to the confident, to take two purses of a thousand pieces of gold each, and carry them to him to-morrow morning in my name; and, at the same time, be sure to inquire after the prince's welfare.

When my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to the last article of inquiring into the prince's welfare, to calm her mind, which was in some disorder, and to persuade her not to yield so much to love, since the danger she had so lately escaped would be soon renewed by such indulgence. She bid me hold my tongue, and do what she had commanded. I was forced to be silent, and am come hither to obey her commands without any further scruple. I have been at your house, and, not finding you at home, was about to have gone to wait on the prince of Persia, but did not dare to attempt so great a journey. I have left the two purses with a particular friend of mine, and, if you have patience, I shall go and fetch them immediately.

The confident returned quickly to the jeweller in the mosque, where she had left him. She gave him the two purses, and bid him accept them for her lady's sake. They are more than necessary, said the jeweller; and I can never be enough thankful for so great a present from so good and generous a lady: but I beseech you to acquaint her, on my behalf, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance of her bounties. He then agreed with the confident, that she should find him at the place where she had first seen him whenever she had occasion to impart any commands from Schemselnihar, or to know any thing of the prince of Persia.

The jeweller returned home very well satisfied, not only that he had got wherewithal plentifully to make up his losses, but also to think that no person in Bagdad could possibly come to know of the prince and Schemselnihar being in his other house when it was robbed. It is true, he had acquainted the thieves with it, but their secrecy he thought might very well be depended on, as he imagined they had not sufficient converse with the world to give him any disturbance. He therefore hugged himself in his good fortune, paid his debts, and furnished both his houses to a nicety. Thus he forgot all his past danger, and next morning set out to wait on the prince of Persia.

The prince's domestics told the jeweller, on his arrival, that he came in very good time to make their lord speak, for they had not been able to get a word out of him ever since he was there. They introduced him softly into his chamber, where he found him in such a condition as raised his pity. He was lying in bed, with his eye-lids shut; but when the jeweller saluted him, and exhorted him to take courage, be faintly opened his eyes, and regarded him with such an aspect, as sufficiently declared the greatness of his affliction. He, however, took and grasped him by the hand, to testify his friendship, telling him, in a faint and weak tone, that he was extremely obliged to him for coming so far to seek one so exceedingly unhappy and miserable.

My lord, replied the jeweller, mention not, I beseech you, any obligations you owe to me; I could wish, with all my soul, that the good offices I have endeavoured to do you had had a better effect. But, at present, let us discourse only of your health, which I fear you greatly injure by unreasonably abstaining from proper nourishment.

The prince's servants, hearing the jeweller say this, took occasion to let him know that it was with the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on him to take even the smallest morsel and that for some time he had taken nothing. This obliged the jeweller to beg the prince to let his servants bring him something to eat, which favour he obtained with much intercession.

After the prince had eaten more largely than he had hitherto, at the persuasion of the jeweller, he commanded the servants to quit the room, and leave him alone with his friend. When the room was clear, he said, In conjunction with my misfortune which distracts me, I have been exceedingly concerned to think of what you have suffered on my account; and as it is but reasonable that I should make you a recompence, I shall be sure to take the first opportunity; at present, however, begging only your pardon a thousand times, I must conjure you to tell me whether you have learnt any thing of Schemselnihar since I had the misfortune to be parted from her.

Here the jeweller, upon the confident's information, related to him all that he knew of Schemselnihar's arrival at her hotel, her state of health from the time he had left her, and how she had sent her confident to him to inquire after his highness's welfare.

To all this the prince replied with sighs and tears only; then he made an effort to get up, and, being assisted by the jeweller, made shift to rise. Being upon his legs, he called his servants, and made them open his wardrobe, whither he went in person, and having caused several bundles of rich goods and plate to be packed up, ordered them to be carried to the jeweller's house.

The jeweller would fain have withstood this kind offer; but although he represented that Schemselnihar had already made him more than sufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince would be obeyed. The jeweller thought himself obliged to make every possible acknowledgment, and protested how much he was confounded at his highness's liberality. He would then have taken his leave, but the prince would not let him; so they passed in discourse the greater part of the night.

Next morning the jeweller waited again on the prince before he went away, but he would not let him stir; he must first sit down, and hear what he had to say. You know, said he, there is an end proposed in all things. Now, the end the lover proposes, is to enjoy the beloved object in spite of all opposition. If he loses that hope, he must not think to live. You also know that this is my hard case; for when I had been twice at the very point of fulfilling my desires, I was all of a sudden torn from her I loved in the most cruel manner imaginable: I had then no more to do, but to think of death; and I had certainly proved my own executioner, did not our holy laws forbid us to commit suicide. But there is no need of such violent means; death will soon do its own work by a sure though gentle method; I find myself in a manner gone, and that I have not long to wait the welcome blow. Here he was silent, and vented the rest of his passion only in groans, sighs, and tears, which came from him in great abundance.

The jeweller, who knew no better way of turning him from despair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving him some hopes of enjoying her, told him, he feared the confident might be come from her lady, and therefore did not think it proper to stay any longer from home. I will let you go, said the prince; but conjure you, that if you see her, you recommend to her to assure Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do every minute, I will love her to the last moment, and bless her with my last breath.

The jeweller returned home in expectation of seeing the confident, who came some few hours after, but all in tears, and in great affliction. He asked, with great earnestness, what was the matter; she answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself, and he, were all ruined. He demanded how. Hear the sad news, said she, as it was told me just upon my entering our hotel, after I had left you.

Schemselnihar had, it seems, for some fault, chastised one of the slaves you saw with her in your other house; the slave, enraged at the ill treatment, ran presently, and, finding the gate open, went forth; so that we have just reason to believe she has discovered all to an eunuch of the guard, who gave her protection, as we have since heard.

This is not all. The other slave, her companion, is fled too, and has taken refuge in the caliph's palace, so that we may well fear she has acted her part in a discovery; for, just as I came away, the caliph had sent twenty of his eunuchs for Schemselnihar, who carried her to the palace. I just found means to come and tell you this, yet I fear no good will come of it; but, above all, I recommend it to you as a secret.

The confident added, that it was expedient he should go and acquaint the prince with the whole affair, that he might be ready on all occasions, and contribute what he was able to the common cause; upon which she departed in great haste, without speaking a word more, or waiting for an answer.

What answer, however, could the jeweller have made, in the deplorable condition he was placed? He stood still as if thunderstruck, and had not a word to say. He was, however, sensible that the affair required expedition, and therefore went immediately to give the prince an account of it. He addressed himself to him with an air that sufficiently showed the bad news he brought. Prince, said he to him, arm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive the most terrible assault ever yet made on your nature. Tell me, in few words, said the prince, what it is I must prepare to receive; for if it be death only, I am ready and willing to undergo it.

Then the jeweller told him all that he had learned from the confident. You see, continued he, that your destruction is inevitable, if you delay. Rise, save yourself by flight, for the time is precious. You, of all men, must not expose yourself to the anger of the caliph, and should much less confess any thing in the midst of torments.

At these words the prince was almost ready to expire with grief, affliction, and fear; he recovered, however, and demanded of the jeweller what resolution he would advise him to take in this unhappy conjuncture. The jeweller told him he thought nothing more proper than that he should immediately take horse, and haste away towards Anbar, [Footnote: Anbar is a city on the Tigris, twenty leagues below Bagdad.] that he might get thither with all convenient speed. Take what servants and horses you think necessary, continued he, and suffer me to escape with you.

The prince, seeing nothing more advisable, immediately gave orders for such an equipage as would be least troublesome; so having put some money and jewels in his pocket, and taking leave of his mother, he departed in company with the jeweller, and with such servants as he had chosen. They travelled all that day and the day following without stopping, till at length, about the dusk of the evening, their horses and selves being greatly fatigued, they alighted at an inn to refresh themselves.

They had hardly sat down, before they found themselves surrounded and assaulted by a gang of thieves. They defended their lives for some time courageously; but, at length, the prince's servants being all killed, both he and the jeweller were obliged to yield at discretion. The thieves, however, spared their lives; but, after they had seized their horses and baggage, they took away their clothes, and left them naked.

In this condition, and after the thieves had left them, the prince said to the jeweller, What is to be done, my friend, in this conjuncture? Had I not better, think you, have tarried in Bagdad, and undergone any fate, rather than have been reduced to this extremity? My lord, replied the jeweller, it is the decree of Heaven that we should thus suffer. It has pleased God to add affliction to affliction, and we must not murmur at it, but receive his chastisements with submission. Let us stay no longer here, but go and look out for some place where we may be concealed and relieved.

No, let me rather die, said the prince; for what signifies it whether I die here or elsewhere? for die I know I must very shortly. It may be, this very minute that we are talking, Schemselnihar is no more! And why should I endeavour to live after she is dead? The jeweller at length prevailed on him to go; but they had not gone far before they came to a mosque, which, being open, they entered, and passed there the remainder of the night.

At day-break a single man came into the mosque to his devotion. When he had ended his prayer, and was turning to go out, he perceived the prince and the jeweller, who were sitting in a corner to conceal themselves. He went up to them; and, saluting them with a great deal of civility, said, By what I perceive, gentlemen, you seem to be strangers.

The jeweller answered, You are not deceived, sir. We have been robbed to-night in coming from Bagdad, and retired hither for shelter. If you can relieve us in our necessities, we shall he very much obliged to you, for we know nobody here to whom to apply to. The man answered, If you think fit to come to my house, I shall do what I can for you.

Upon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and said in his ear, This man, as far as I can perceive, sir, does not know us; therefore we had better go with him, than stay here to be exposed to the sight of somebody that may. Do as you please, said the prince; I am willing to be guided by your discretion.

The man, observing the prince and jeweller consulting together, thought they made some difficulty to accept his proposition; wherefore he demanded of them if they were resolved what to do. The jeweller answered, We are ready to follow you whither you please; all that we make a difficulty about is to appear thus naked.

Let not that trouble you, said the man; we shall find wherewithal to clothe you, I warrant you. They were no sooner got to the house, than he brought forth a very handsome suit for each of them. Next, as he thought they must be very hungry, and have a mind to go to bed, he had several plates of meat brought out to them by a slave; but they ate little, particularly the prince, who was so dejected and dispirited, as gave the jeweller cause to fear he would die. They went to bed, and their host left them to their repose; but they had no sooner lain down, than the jeweller was forced to call him again to assist at the death of the prince. He breathed short, and with difficulty; which gave him reason to fear he had but a few minutes to live. Coming near him, the prince said, It is done; and I am glad you are by, to be witness of my last words. I quit this life with a great deal of satisfaction; but I need not tell you the reason, for you know it too well already. All the regret I have is, that I cannot die in the arms of my dearest mother, who has always loved me with a tenderness not to be expressed, and for whom I had a reciprocal affection. She will undoubtedly be not a little grieved that she could not close my eyes, and bury me with her own hands. But let her know how much I was concerned at this; and desire her, in my name, to have my corpse transported to Bagdad, that she may have an opportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my departed soul with her prayers. He then took notice of the master of the house, thanked him for the several favours he had received from him, and desired him to let his body be deposited with him till such time as it should be carried away to Bagdad. Having said this, he turned aside and expired.

The day after the prince's death, the jeweller took the opportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and arrived there some time after in safety. He first went home to change his clothes, and then hastened to the prince's palace, where every body was surprised that their lord was not come with him. He desired them to acquaint the prince's mother that he must speak to her immediately; and it was not long before he was introduced to her. She was seated in a hall, with several of her women about her. Madam, said he to her, with an air that sufficiently denoted his ill news, God preserve your highness, and shower down the choicest of his blessings upon you! You cannot be ignorant that it is he alone who disposes of us all at his pleasure.

The princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas, you bring me the deplorable news of my son's death! At which words she and her women set up such a hideous outcry, as soon brought fresh tears into the jeweller's eyes. She thus tormented and grieved herself a long while before the unfortunate messenger was allowed to go on. At length, however, she gave a truce to her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue the fatal relation, without concealing from her the least circumstance. He did as she commanded; and, when he had done, she further demanded of him, if her son the prince had not given him in charge something more particular. He assured her his last words were, that it was the greatest concern to him that he must die so far distant from his dear mother, and that he earnestly entreated she would be pleased to have his corpse transported to Bagdad. Accordingly, next morning at day-break, the princess set out, with her women and great part of her slaves, to bring her son's body to her own palace.

The jeweller, having taken leave of her, returned home very sad and melancholy, to think he had lost so good a friend, and so accomplished a prince, in the flower of his age.

As he came near his house, dejected and musing, on a sudden lifting up his eyes, he saw a woman in mourning and tears standing before him. He presently knew her to be the confident, who had stood there grieving for some time that she could not see him. At the sight of her, his tears began to flow afresh, but he said nothing to her; and, going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down, when the jeweller, beginning the dismal discourse, asked the confident, with a deep sigh, if she had heard nothing of the death of the prince of Persia, or if it was on his account that she grieved? Alas! answered she; what! is that charming prince then, dead? He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar. Beauteous souls! continued she, in whatsoever place ye now are, ye ought to be pleased that your loves will no more be interrupted. Your bodies were before an obstacle to your wishes; but now, being delivered from them, you may unite as closely as you please.

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar's death, and had not observed that the confident was in mourning, through the excessive grief that blinded him, was now afflicted anew. Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he, in great astonishment. She is dead, replied the confident, weeping afresh; and it is for her that I wear these weeds. The circumstances of her death are extraordinary, continued she; therefore it is but requisite you should know them; but, before I give you an account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of Persia, whom, in conjunction with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.

The jeweller then gave the confident the satisfaction she desired; and, after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince's mother to bring her son's body to Bagdad, she began, and said, You have not forgotten, I suppose, that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace; and it is true, as we had all the reason in the world to believe, he had been informed of the amour between her and the prince by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart. Now, you will be apt to imagine he must of necessity be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar, and discover many tokens of jealousy and revenge against the prince; but I must tell you he had neither one nor the other, aud lamented only his dear mistress forsaking him, which he in some measure attributed to himself, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without his eunuchs. This was all the resentment he showed, as you will find by his carriage towards her.

He received her with an open countenance; and when he observed the sadness she was under, which nevertheless did not lessen her beauty, with a goodness peculiar to himself, he said, Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your appearing thus before me with an air of affliction. You must be sensible how much I have always loved you by the continual demonstrations I have given you; and I can never change my mind, for even now I love you more than ever. You have enemies, Schemselnihar, proceeded he; and those enemies have done you all the wrong they can. For this purpose they have filled my ears with stories against you, which have not made the least impression upon me. Shake off, then, this melancholy, continued he, and prepare to entertain your lord this night after your accustomed manner. He said many other obliging things to her, and then desired her to step into a magnificent apartment, and stay for him.

The afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the kindness the caliph had for her; but the more she thought herself obliged to him, the more she was concerned that she was so far off from the prince, without whom she could not live, and yet was afraid she should never see him more.

This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar, continued the confident, was whilst I came to speak with you; and I learned the particulars of it from my companions, who were present. But I had no sooner left you, proceeded she, than I went to my dear mistress again, and was an eye-witness to what happened afterwards. I found her in the apartment I told you of; and, as she thought I came from you, she came to me, and whispering in my ear, said, I am much obliged to you for the service you have been doing me, but fear it will be the last. I took no notice of her words, and she said no more to me; but if I had a mind to say any thing to comfort her, I was in a place by no means proper for disclosing my thoughts.

The caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments upon which our women played, and the collation was immediately served up. He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down with him on the sofa; which she did with such regret, that she expired some few minutes after. In short, she was hardly sat down, when she fell backwards; which the caliph believed to be only a swoon, and so we all thought; but when we endeavoured to bring her to herself, we found she was quite gone, which you may imagine not a little afflicted us.

The caliph did her the honour to weep over her, not being able to refrain from tears, and, before he left the room, ordered all the musical instruments to be broken, which was immediately executed. For my part, I staid with her corpse all night, and next morning bathed it with my tears, and dressed it for the funeral. The caliph had her interred soon after in a magnificent tomb he had erected for her in her lifetime, in a place she had desired to be buried in. Now, since you tell me, said she, the prince of Persia's body is to be brought to Bagdad, I will use my best endeavours that he shall be interred in the same tomb, which may be at least some satisfaction to two such faithful lovers.

The jeweller was somewhat surprised at this resolution of the confident's, and said, Certainly you do not consider that this enterprise is in a manner impossible, for the caliph will never suffer it. Do not you be concerned at that, replied she; for you will undoubtedly be of another opinion after I have told you that the caliph has given liberty to all her slaves in general, with a considerable pension to each for their subsistence; and as to me in particular, has honoured me with the charge of my mistress's tomb, and allotted me an annual income for my maintenance. Moreover, you must think that the caliph, who was not ignorant of the amour betweeen Schemselnihar and the prince, as I have already told you, will not be a whit concerned if now, after her death, he be buried with her. To all this the jeweller had not a word to say, yet earnestly entreated the confident to conduct him to her mistress's tomb, that he might say his prayers over her. When he came in sight of it, he was not a little surprised to find a vast number of people of both sexes, who were come thither from all parts of Bagdad. As he could not come near the tomb, he said his prayers at a distance; and then going to the confident, who waited hard by, he said to her, I am altogether of a contrary opinion to what I was just now; for now I am so far from thinking that what you proposed cannot be put in execution, that you and I need only tell abroad what we know of the amour of this unfortunate couple, and how the prince died much about the same time with his mistress, and is now bringing up to be buried; the people will bring the thing about, and not suffer that two such faithful lovers should be separated when dead, whom nothing could divide in affection whilst they lived. As he said, so it came to pass; for as soon as it came to be known that the corpse was within a day's journey of the city, the inhabitants almost of all sorts went forth, met it above twenty miles off, and marched before it, till it came to the city gate; where the confident, waiting for that purpose, presented herself before the prince's mother, and begged her, in the name of the whole city, that she would be pleased to consent that the bodies of the two lovers, who had but one heart whilst they lived, especially during their amour, might be buried in the same tomb now they were dead. The princess immediately consented; and the corpse of the prince, instead of being deposited in his own burying-place, was laid by Schemselnihar's side, after it had been carried in procession at the head of an infinite number of people, of all conditions and degrees: nay, from that very time, all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers, from such parts of the world as honoured the Mahometan religion, have had a mighty veneration for that tomb, and paid their devotion at it as often as opportunity would give them leave.

This, sir, said Scheherazade, who now perceived the day begin to approach, is what I had to relate to your majesty concerning the amour of the fair Schemselnihar, mistress to the caliph Haroun Alraschid, and the worthy Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia.

When Dinarzade observed that her sister the sultaness had done speaking, she thanked her in the most obliging manner for her entertainment in a history so exceedingly agreeable.

If the sultan will be pleased to let me live till to-morrow, said Scheherazade, I will also relate that of prince Camaralzaman [Footnote: This word, in Arabic, signifies the Moon of the Time, or the Moon of the Age.], which you will find yet more agreeable. Here she stopped; and the sultan, who could not yet resolve on her death, permitted her to go on next night in the following manner.

THE STORY OF THE AMOURS OF
CAMARALZAMAN, PRINCE OF THE ISLES of THE
CHILDREN OF KHALEDAN; AND OF BADOURA,
PRINCESS OF CHINA.

About twenty days sail on the coast of Persia, there are islands in the main ocean, called the islands of the Children of Khaledan; these islands are divided into four great provinces, which have all of them very flourishing and populous cities, and which make together a most potent kingdom. It is governed by a king named Schahzaman [Footnote: That is to say, in Persic, King of the Time, or King of the Age.], who has four lawful wives, all daughters of kings, and sixty concubines.

Schahzaman thought himself the most happy monarch of the world, as well on account of his peaceful as prosperous reign. One thing only disturbed his happiness, which was, that he was pretty old, and had no children, though he had so many wives. He knew not what to attribute this barrenness to; and what increased his affliction was, that he was likely to leave his kingdom without a successor. He dissembled his discontent a long while; and, what was yet more uneasy to him, he was constrained to dissemble. At length, however, he broke silence; and one day, after he had complained bitterly of his misfortune to his grand vizier, he demanded of him if he knew any remedy for it.

That wise minister replied, If what your majesty requires of me had depended on the ordinary methods of human wisdom, you had soon had an answer to your satisfaction; but, as my experience and knowledge are not sufficient to content you, I must advise you to have recourse to the Divine Power alone, who, in the midst of our prosperities, which often tempt us to forget him, is pleased so to limit our discernment, that we may apply only to his omniscience for what we have occasion to know. Your majesty has subjects, proceeded he, who make a profession of loving and honouring God, and suffering great hardships for his sake; to them I would advise you to have recourse, and engage them by alms to join their prayers with yours; it may be, some among them may be so just and agreeable to God as to obtain what they pray for.

King Schahzaman approved of this advice very much, and thanked his vizier for it: he immediately caused rich alms to be given to every monastery in his dominions; and having sent for the superiors, declared to them his intention, and desired them to acquaint their monks with it.

The king, in short, obtained of Heaven what he requested; for in nine months time he had a son born of one of his wives. In return for this favour, he sent new alms to the religious houses; and the prince's birth-day was celebrated throughout his dominions for a week together. The prince was brought to him as soon as born; and he found him so beautiful, that he gave him the name of Camaralzaman; that is, the Moon of the Age.

He was educated with all the care imaginable; and when he came to be old enough, his father appointed him a governor and able preceptors. These distinguished persons found him capable of receiving all the instructions that were proper to be given him, as well in relation to morals, as to other knowledge a prince ought to have. When he came to be somewhat older, he learned all his exercises; of which he acquitted himself with so much grace and wonderful address, that he charmed all who saw him, and particularly the sultan his father.

Having attained the age of fifteen years, the sultan, who loved him tenderly, thought of resigning his throne to him, and acquainted his grand vizier with his intentions. I am afraid, said he, lest my son should lose those advantages in youth which nature and education have given him; therefore, since I am somewhat advanced in age, and fit for a retreat, I have had thoughts of resigning the government to him, and passing the remainder of my days in the satisfaction of seeing him reign. I have undergone the fatigue of a crown a long while, and think it is now proper for me to retire.

The grand vizier would not offer all the reasons he could have brought to dissuade the sultan from such a proceeding; on the contrary, he agreed with him in some measure. Sir, replied he, the prince is yet but young; and it would not, in my humble opinion, be wholly advisable to burden him with the weight of a crown so soon. Your majesty fears, with a great deal of reason, that his youth may be corrupted; but then, to remedy that, does not your majesty likewise think it would be proper to marry him, marriage being what would keep him within bounds, and confine his inclinations? Moreover, your majesty might then admit him of your council, where he would learn by degrees the art of reigning, and consequently be fit to receive your power, whenever you shall think proper to bestow it on him.

Schahzaman found this advice of his prime minister highly reasonable, and therefore summoned the prince to appear before him, dismissing the grand vizier at the same time.

The prince, who had been accustomed to see his father only at certain times, was a little startled at this irregular summons; therefore, when he came before him, he saluted him with great respect, and afterwards stood still, with his eyes fixed on the ground.

The sultan, perceiving his surprise, said to him in a mild way, Do you know, son, for what reason I have sent for you hither? No, may it please your majesty, answered the prince, modestly: God alone knows how to penetrate hearts. I should be glad to know of your majesty for what reason? Why, I sent for you, said the sultan, to let you know that I design to marry you: what do you think of it?

Prince Camaralzaman heard this with great uneasiness; it quite surprised him; he was all in a sweat, and knew not what answer to make. After a few moments, however, he replied, Sir, I beseech your majesty to pardon me, if I seem surprised at the declaration you have made. I did not expect any such proposal to one so young as I am; and besides, I know not whether I could ever prevail on myself to marry, not only on account of the trouble wives bring a man, and which I am very sensible of, though unmarried, but also by reason of their many impostures, wickednesses, and treacheries, which I have read of in authors. It may be, I may not be always of the same mind; yet I cannot but think I ought to have time to conclude on what your majesty requires of me.

Prince Camaralzaman's answer extremely afflicted his father; he was not a little grieved to see what an aversion he had to marriage, yet would not call his obedience in question, nor make use of his paternal authority: he contented himself with telling him that he would not force his inclinations, and gave him time to consider of what he had proposed to him; yet wished him to remember, that, as a prince designed to govern a great kingdom, he ought to take some care to leave behind him a successor.

Schahzaman said no more to the prince: he admitted him into his council, and gave him all the reason to be satisfied that could be desired. About a year after, he took him aside, and said to him, Well, son, have you thoroughly considered of what I proposed to you last year about marrying? Will you still refuse me the satisfaction I desire, and let me die without seeing myself revive in your posterity?

The prince seemed less astonished than before; he now briskly answered his father as follows: Sir, I have not neglected to consider of what you proposed, and, upon the whole matter, I am resolved to continue in the state I am, without concerning myself with marriage, In short, sir, the many evils I have read that women have caused in the world, and the continual mischiefs I still hear and observe they do, have been the occasion of my resolution to have nothing to do with them; so that, sir, I hope your majesty will pardon me if I acquaint you, that it will be to no purpose to solicit me any further about that affair. This said, and making a low reverence, he went out briskly, without staying to hear what the sultan would answer.

Now, any monarch but Schahzaman would have been in a violent passion at such deportment of a son; but he took little notice of it, resolving to use all gentle methods before he proceeded to force. He communicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister. I have followed your advice, said he, but Camaralzaman is further off than ever from complying with my desires. He delivered his resolution in such arrogant terms, that I had all the occasion in the world for my reason and moderation to keep me from being in a passion. Fathers who desire favours of their children, which they nevertheless can command, have themselves alone to blame if they are disobeyed. But tell me, I beseech you, how I shall reclaim this hardy young prince, who proves so rebellious to my pleasure.

Sir, answered the grand vizier, patience brings many things about which before seemed impracticable; but it may be that this affair is of a nature not likely to succeed in that way. However, in my judgment, your majesty would do well to give the prince another year to consider of the matter; and if, when this is expired, he still continues averse to your proposal, then your majesty may propose it to him in full council, as a thing that is highly necessary for the common good; it is not likely that he will refuse to comply with it before so grave an assembly, and on so necessary an account, whatever he has done before.

The sultan, who passionately desired to see his son married, thought this long delay an age; however, though with much difficulty, he at length yielded to his grand vizier's reasons, which he could no way disapprove.

After the grand vizier was gone, sultan Schahzaman went to the apartment of the mother of prince Camaralzaman, to whom he had often discovered what an ardent desire he had to marry the prince. When he had told her, with tears in his eyes, how his son had refused to comply a second time, and that nevertheless, through the advice of his grand vizer, he was induced to wait yet a longer time for his compliance, he said, Madam, I know he will hearken more to you than me, therefore I desire you would take your time to speak to him seriously of the matter, and to let him know that, if he persists much longer in his obstinacy, he will oblige me to have recourse to extremities that may not be pleasing to him, and which may give him cause to repent of having disobeyed me.

Fatima, for so was the lady called, acquainted the prince, the first time she saw him, that she had been informed of his second refusal to be married, and how much chagrin he had occasioned his father on that account. Madam, said the prince, I beseech you not to renew my grief upon that head; for, if you do, I have reason to fear, in the disquiet I am under, that something may escape me which may not altogether correspond with the respect I owe you. Fatima knew, by this answer, that it was not then a proper time to speak to him; therefore deferred what she had to say till another opportunity.

Some considerable time after, Fatima thought she had met with a more favourable occasion, which gave her hopes of being heard upon the subject; she therefore accosted him with all the eagerness imaginable: Son, said she, I beg of you, if it be not very irksome to you, to tell me what reason you have for your so great aversion to marriage? If you have no other than the badness and wickedness of some women, there can be nothing less reasonable, or more weak. I will not undertake the defence of those who are bad, there are a great number of them undoubtedly; but it would be the greatest injustice imaginable to condemn all the sex for their sakes. Alas, son! you have met with a great many bad women in your books, who have occasioned great disorders, and I will not excuse them; but you do not consider how many monarchs, sultans, and other princes, there have been in the world, whose tyrannies, barbarities, and cruelties, astonished those who read of them, and which I have myself. Now, for one woman who is thus wicked, you will meet with a thousand of these tyrants and barbarians; and what torment, do you think, must a good woman undergo, for such there are, who is united to one of these wretches?

Madam, replied Camaralzaman, I doubt not but there is a great number of wise, virtuous, good, affable, and generous women, in the world; and would to God they all resembled you! But what pierces me, is the doubtful choice a man is obliged to make; and oftentimes one has not even that liberty.

Let us suppose, then, Madam, continued he, that I had a mind to marry, as the sultan my father so earnestly desires I should; what wife, think you, would he be likely to provide for me? Probably a princess, whom he would demand of some neighbouring prince, and who would think it an honour done him to send her to him. Fair or ugly, good or ill-humoured, she must be accepted; nay, suppose no other princess excelled her in beauty, yet who can be certain that her temper would be of equal goodness; that she would be affable, complaisant, entertaining, obliging, and the like; that her discourse would generally run on solid matters, and not on trifles, such as dress, adjustments, ornaments, and the like fooleries, which would disgust any man of sense? In a word, that she would not be haughty, proud, arrogant, impertinent, scornful, and waste a man's estate in frivolous expences, such as gaudy clothes, unnecessary jewels, toys, and the like long train of magnificent follies.

Thus you see, madam, continued he, how many reasons a man may have to be disgusted at marriage. Well, but to go further: let this princess be ever so perfect, accomplished, and irreproachable, I have yet a great many more reasons not to desist from my sentiment, or depart from my resolution.

What, son, replied Fatima; have you then more reasons than those you have already advanced? I do not doubt but that I shall find wherewithal to answer them, and stop your mouth with a word. Very well, madam, replied the prince; and perhaps I may find wherewithal to reply to your answer.

I mean, son, said Fatima, that it is easy for a prince, who has had the misfortune to marry such a wife as you describe, to get rid of her, and take such care that she may not prejudice his estate. Ah, but, madam, replied the prince, you do not consider what a mortification it would be to a person of so great quality to be obliged to come to an extremity of that nature. Would it not have been better, think you, and much more for his honour and quiet, that he had never run such a risk?

But, son, said Fatima once more, after the manner you understand things, I apprehend you have a mind to be the last king of your race, who have nevertheless reigned so long and gloriously in the isles of the Children of Khaledan.

Madam, replied the prince, for my part I do not desire to survive the king my father; and if I should die before him, it would be no great matter of wonder, since so many children have died before their parents. But as for my leaving no successor, I am of opinion it is much better to be the last of one's race, than father to a bad prince, or husband to a bad wife.

From that time Fatima had frequent conferences with her son the prince on the same subject, and omitted no opportunity or argument to endeavour rooting out his aversion to the fair sex; but he eluded all her reasonings by such as she could not well answer, and continued in the same mind.

The year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, prince Camaralzaman gave not the least proof of having changed his sentiments; so that one day, when there was a great council held, the prime vizier and other viziers, the principal officers of the crown, and the generals of the army, being present, the sultan spoke thus to the prince: Son, it is now a long while since I have earnestly desired to see you married; and I imagined you would have had more complaisance for a father, who required nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long. But, after so great resistance on your part, which has almost worn out my patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once more to you in presence of my council. Now I would have you to consider, that the favour I desire is not only to oblige me, but to comply with the earnest request of the estates of my dominions, who, for the common good of us all, in conjunction with me, require it of you. Declare then, before these lords present, whether you will marry or not; that, according to your answer, I may proceed, and take those measures which I ought.

The prince answered with so little temper, or rather with so much heat, that the sultan, enraged to see himself affronted in full council, cried out, How, unnatural son! have you the insolence to talk thus to your father and sultan? Ho! guards, take him away! At these words he was seized by the eunuchs, and carried to an old tower that had been uninhabited a long while; where he was shut up, with only a bed, a few moveables, some books, and one slave only to attend him.

Camaralzaman, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased that he had the freedom to converse with books, which made him look on his confinement with some indifference. In the evening he bathed, and said his prayers; and, after having read some chapters in the alcoran with the same tranquillity of mind as if he had been in the sultan's palace, undressed himself, and went to bed, leaving his lamp burning by him all the while he slept.

In this tower was a well, which served for a retreat to a certain fairy named Maimoune, daughter of Damriel, king or head of a legion of genii. It was about midnight when this Maimoune came forth silently, to wander about the world after her wonted custom. She was surprised to see a light in prince Camaralzaman's chamber. She entered it; and, without stopping at the slave who lay at the door, approached the bed, whose magnificence, though very great, she did not so much wonder at, as that there should be a man in it.

Prince Camaralzaman had but half covered his face with the bed-clothes, by which Maimoune could perceive that he was the finest young man she had seen in all her rambles through the world. What beauty, or rather what prodigy of beauty, said she within herself, will this youth appear, when his so well formed eye-lids shall be open? What crime can he have committed, to deserve this rigorous treatment?

She could not forbear admiring the prince, till at length, having kissed him gently on both cheeks, and in the middle of the forehead, without waking him, she laid the bed-clothes in the order they were in before, and took her flight into the air. As she mounted to the middle region, she heard a great clapping of wings, which induced her to fly towards that side; and, when she approached, she saw the genius that made the noise, but he was one of those who are rebellious to God. As for Maimoune, she belonged to that class whom the great Solomon forced to conform.

This genius, whose name was Danhasch, the son of Schamhourasch, knew Maimoune; but did not dare to take notice of her, being sensible how much power she had over him, by her submission to the Almighty. He would have avoided her, but she was so near him, that he must either fight or yield.

Brave Maimoune, said Danhasch, in the tone of a supplicant, swear to me, in the name of the Great Power, that you will not hurt me; and I swear also, on my part, not to do you any harm?

Cursed genius! replied Maimoune, what hurt canst thou do me? I fear thee not; but as thou hast desired this favour of me, I swear not to do thee any harm. Tell me, then, wandering spirit, whence thou comest, what thou hast seen, and what mischief thou hast done this night? Fair lady, answered Danhasch, you meet me in a good time to hear something that is very wonderful.