"My queen," replied the prince, "I am perfectly convinced of your love, and should be unworthy of it, if I did not testify my gratitude by a reciprocal affection. If you are offended at the permission I solicit, I entreat you to forgive me, and I will make all the reparation in my power. I did not make the request with any intention of displeasing you, but from a motive of respect towards my father, whom I wish to free from the affliction in which my so long absence must have overwhelmed him, and which must be the greater, as, I have reason to presume, he believes that I am dead. But since you do not consent that I should go and afford him that comfort, I will deny myself the pleasure, as there is nothing to which I would not submit to please you."
Ahmed did not dissemble, for he loved her at heart as much as he had assured her by this declaration; and the fairy expressed her satisfaction. But as he could not absolutely abandon his design, he frequently took an opportunity to speak to her of the great qualifications of the sultan his father: and above all, of his particular tenderness towards himself, in hopes he might at length be able to move her.
As the prince had supposed, the sultan of the Indies, in the midst of the rejoicings on account of the nuptials of prince Ali and the princess Nouronnihar, was sensibly afflicted at the absence of the other two princes his sons, though it was not long before he was informed of the resolution Houssain had taken to forsake the world, and the place he had chosen for his retreat. As a good father, whose happiness consists in seeing his children about him, especially when they are deserving of his tenderness, he would have been better pleased had he stayed at his court, near his person; but as he could not disapprove of his choice of the state of perfection which he had entered, he supported his absence more patiently. He made the most diligent search after Ahmed, and dispatched couriers to all the provinces of his dominions, with orders to the governors to stop him, and oblige him to return to court: but all the pains he took had not the desired success, and his affliction, instead of diminishing, increased. He would make it the subject of his conversation with his grand vizier; and would say to him, "Vizier, thou knowest I always loved Ahmed the most of all my sons; and thou art not insensible of the means I have in vain used to find him out. My grief is so heavy, I shall sink under it, if thou hast not compassion on me; if thou hast any regard for the preservation of my life, I conjure thee to assist and advise me."
The grand vizier, no less attached to the person of the sultan than zealous to acquit himself well of the administration of the affairs of state, considering how to give his sovereign some ease, recollected a sorceress, of whom he had heard wonders, and proposed to send for and consult her. The sultan consented, and the grand vizier, upon her arrival, introduced her into the presence.
The sultan said to the sorceress, "The affliction I have been in since the marriage of my son prince Ali to the princess Nouronnihar, my niece, on account of the absence of prince Ahmed, is so well known, and so public, that thou canst be no stranger to it. By thy art and skill canst thou tell me what is become of him? If he be alive, where he is? what he is doing? and if I may hope ever to see him again?" To this the sorceress replied, "It is impossible, sir, for me, however skilful in my profession, to answer immediately the questions your majesty asks; but if you allow me till to-morrow, I will endeavour to satisfy you." The sultan granted her the time, and permitted her to retire, with a promise to recompense her munificently, if her answer proved agreeable to his hopes.
The sorceress returned the next day, and the grand vizier presented her a second time to the sultan. "Sir," said she, "notwithstanding all the diligence I have used in applying the rules of my art to obey your majesty in what you desire to know, I have not been able to discover any thing more than that prince Ahmed is alive. This is certain, and you may depend upon it; but as to where he is I cannot discover."
The sultan of the Indies was obliged to remain satisfied with this answer; which left him in the same uneasiness as before as to the prince's situation.
To return to prince Ahmed. He so often entertained the fairy Perie Banou with talking about his father, though without speaking any more of his desire to visit him, that she fully comprehended what he meant; and perceiving the restraint he put upon himself, and his fear of displeasing her after her first refusal, she inferred, from the repeated proofs he had given her, that his love for her was sincere; and judging by herself of the injustice she committed in opposing a son's tenderness for his father, and endeavouring to make him renounce that natural affection, she resolved to grant him the permission which she knew he so ardently desired. One day she said to him, "Prince, the request you made to be allowed to go and see the sultan your father gave me apprehension that it was only a pretext to conceal inconstancy, and that was the sole motive of my refusal; but now, as I am fully convinced by your actions and words that I can depend on your honour and the fidelity of your love, I change my resolution, and grant you the permission you seek, on condition that you will first swear to me that your absence shall not be long. You ought not to be uneasy at this condition, as if I asked it out of distrust. I impose it only because I know that it will give you no concern, convinced, as I have already told you I am, of the sincerity of your love."
Prince Ahmed would have thrown himself at the fairy's feet to shew his gratitude, but she prevented him. "My sultaness," said he, "I am sensible of the great favour you grant me; but want words to express my thanks. Supply this defect, I conjure you, by your own feelings, and be persuaded I think much more. You may believe that the oath will give me no uneasiness, and I take it more willingly, since it is not possible for me to live without you. I go, but the haste I will make to return shall shew you, that it is not the fear of being foresworn, but my inclination, which is to live with you for ever, that urges me; and if with your consent I now and then deprive myself of your society, I shall always avoid the pain a too long absence would occasion me."
"Prince," replied Perie Banou, delighted with his sentiments, "go when you please; but do not take it amiss that I give you some advice how you shall conduct yourself. First, I do not think it proper for you to inform your father of our marriage, neither of my quality, nor the place of our residence. Beg of him to be satisfied with knowing that you are happy, that you want nothing from him, and let him know that the sole end of your visit is to make him easy respecting your fate."