The sultan looked earnestly at my brother, but made no answer. He embraced me, at one moment bursting into tears, in the next calling for assistance. I was removed to my apartments, and after some time, the physicians succeeded in restoring me to life: but I was for many days confused and dizzy in the brain, during which every attention and care was lavished on me. One evening I felt sufficiently recovered to speak, and I demanded of my attendants what had taken place. They informed me that the mutes, who had mistaken the signal, had been impaled, and that the janissaries had risen and demanded my brother, whose execution had been deferred by the sultan; but that on the commotion taking place, by order of the grand vizier, my brother had been executed, and his head thrown out to the rebellious troops, who had then dispersed, and had since been brought to subjection, and some hundreds of their ringleaders had been executed. I turned away at this intelligence, for I loved my noble but misguided brother. The movement occasioned excruciating pain, which arose from the deep wound made by the bowstring in my neck.
The next morning I rose, that I might contemplate my person in the mirror, and I at once perceived the alteration which had taken place. There was a certain degree of distortion of features which I thought would never be removed. I felt, that although the sultan might respect me, I could not expect the same influence and undivided attention as before. With a heavy heart I threw myself on the couch, and planned for the future. I reflected upon the uncertain tenure by which the affections of a despot are held—and I resolved to part. Still I loved him, loved him in spite of all his cruelty; but my resolution was made. For six weeks I refused to see the sultan, although he inquired every day, and sent me magnificent presents. At the end of that period I had recovered, and all that remained from the effects of the bowstring, was a slight wrinkling of the skin from distension, and the deep blue mark round my neck which I have just shown to your highness.
When I first admitted the sultan, he was much affected. “Zara,” said he mournfully, “I swear by the holy Prophet that I meant not to give the signal.”
“I believe you, my lord,” replied I calmly.
“Neither did I intend that your brother should suffer. I meant to have gained your favour by his pardon.”
“He was a traitor, my lord, an ungrateful traitor, and deserved his death. So may all like him perish.”
“And now, Zara, may I hope for your forgiveness?”
“On one condition, sultan, and swear that you will grant what I require.”
“I do, by Allah!”
“It is, that you send me back to my own country.”