"Nothing I wished for was denied me; and when one day, while on my way to the bath, I saw Suliman, the nephew of the Emir Bargash ibn Beynin of Bagdad, who was visiting Teheran, and could neither rest nor he happy because I was continually thinking of him, my dear father no sooner had learned the cause of my disquiet than he arranged a marriage between us, giving Suliman such a handsome dower with me as made him think himself a very fortunate young man."
Haroun Alraschid, who was a very polite man among ladies, here interposed the remark that Suliman had much cause to consider himself fortunate, irrespective of the dower.
Abadeh, blushing at the Caliph's compliment, continued—
"For a whole year we lived very happily together, when, on the death of my dear father, my husband, no longer having any inducement to remain in Persia, determined to return to his native country.
"After a journey marked by no noteworthy incident, we arrived at length in Bagdad. Hiring a house next to that occupied by my husband's uncle, the Emir Bargash ibn Beynin, we have resided there now nearly a year, in the greatest contentment and happiness, and constantly visited by the Emir, who has always professed to be extremely pleased with our society.
"Yesterday evening, however, he sent one of his female slaves to bid me come at once to his house, as Suliman was suddenly taken ill.
"I was just dressed to receive my dear husband, whose return I every moment expected. I hurried down therefore from my chamber just as I was, forgetting even in my excitement to throw my yashmak over me, and crossing the narrow yard between our houses, I entered the Emir's garden.
"He met me in the midst of the garden, and in answer to my eager inquiry for my husband, he said: 'You cannot see him, it is too late; he is dead.'
"'Impossible!' I cried; 'it cannot be, take me to him at once. Let me at least try what can be done for him.'
"Then this Emir—this wicked, this infamous man—took me in his arms, in spite of my struggles, and kissed me and said: 'Think no more of Suliman, who is gone, and whom you will not see again. Now you belong to me—I love you, I have loved you for months, and never more shall we part.'