It was Smaragdine: she was out of herself with joy; she burst out into loud laughter, such as could proceed from no lips but hers, and made herself known to the enraptured Alischar.
Next morning the King called together the nobles of the city, and requested them to choose some one to act as Viceroy for a season, announcing the necessity of undertaking a journey to his own country in company with the stranger.
They immediately complied with this request, and escorted the Prince from their gates with all the splendour of royal attendance. But Smaragdine had no intention ever to reclaim their homage: she had found her Alischar, and preferred a life of love and peace in her native place, to a disagreeable disguise and the troublesome magnificence of sovereign estate.