I endeavoured, but in vain, to bring her to a sense of her duty; and finding that all my arguments only increased her obstinacy, I at last desisted and left her. She continued to visit her lover every day; and for two years she was inconsolable.
I went a second time to the Palace of Tears while she was there. I hid myself as before, and heard her say, “It is now three years that you have not spoken to me; nor do you return the proofs of affection and fondness which my complaints and sighs must convince you I feel: is it from insensibility or disdain? Hast thou, O tomb, destroyed that excess of tenderness which he bore me? Hast thou closed for ever those dear eyes which beamed with love and formed all my pleasure? Ah no, I cannot think it; rather let me say, thou art become the deposit of the rarest treasure the world ever saw.”
I avow to you, my lord, that I was enraged at these words; for in truth this cherished lover, this adored mortal, was not at all what you would imagine. He was a black Indian, one of the original inhabitants of this country. I was, as I have said, so enraged at this speech, that I suddenly shewed myself, and addressing myself in a similar manner to the tomb, I said, “Why dost thou not, O tomb, swallow up this monster, who is even disgusting to human nature? or rather, why dost thou not consume both the lover and the mistress?”
I had hardly finished these words, when the queen, who was seated near the black, started up like a fury, “Ah, wretch!” said she to me, “it is you who have been the cause of my grief; think not that I am ignorant of it. I have already dissembled too long. It was your barbarous hand which reduced the object of my affection to the miserable state he now is in. And have you the cruelty to come and insult my despair?” “Yes,” cried I, interrupting her, and transported with anger, “I have chastised the monster as he deserved, and I ought to treat thee in the same manner. I repent not having already done it, for thou hast too long abused my goodness.” In saying this, I drew my scimitar, and raised my arm to punish her. “Moderate thy rage,” said she to me with a disdainful smile, and regarding my motions with a tranquil air, and at the same instant she pronounced some words which I did not understand, and added, “By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee from this moment to become half marble and half man.” Immediately, my lord, I was changed to what you see me; already dead among the living, and living among the dead.
As soon as this cruel enchantress, for she is unworthy of bearing the title of queen, had thus transformed me, and by means of her magic had conveyed me to this apartment, she destroyed my capital, which was both flourishing and well inhabited; she annihilated the palaces, public places, and markets; turned the whole place into a lake, or pond, and rendered the country, as you may perceive, quite a desert. The four sorts of fish, which are in the pond, are four different classes of inhabitants, who professed different religions, and inhabited the capital. The white were Musselmen; the red, Persians, who worship fire; the blue, Christians; and the yellow, Jews; the four little hills were four islands; whence the name of the kingdom originated. I was informed of all this by the enchantress, who herself related the effects of her rage. Nor was even this all; she did not confine her fury to the destruction of my empire, and to my enchantment, for she comes every day and gives me a hundred blows with a thong, made of a bull’s hide, upon my shoulders, from whence she draws blood at every stroke. As soon as she has finished this punishment, she covers me with a thick stuff, made of goat’s hair; and puts a robe of rich brocade over it, not for the sake of honouring, but of mocking me.” In saying this, the young king of the Black Isles could not refrain from tears; and the sultan’s heart was so oppressed, he could not offer him any consolation. The young king then, lifting up his eyes towards Heaven, exclaimed, “I submit, O powerful Creator of all things, to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence. Since it is thy pleasure, I patiently suffer every evil; yet I trust thy infinite goodness will one day recompense me.”
“Inform me,” cried the sultan, affected by the recital of so strange a story, and eager to revenge his injuries, “inform me where this perfidious enchantress resides, and where also is this infamous paramour, whom she has entombed before his death. “My lord,” answered the prince, “he, as I have before mentioned, is at the Palace of Tears, in a tomb, formed like a dome; and this palace has a communication with the castle on the side towards the entrance. I cannot exactly tell you to what spot the enchantress has retired; but she visits her lover every day at sun-rise, after having inflicted on me the sanguinary punishment I related: and you may easily judge, that I cannot defend myself from such great cruelty. She always brings with her a sort of liquor, which is the only thing that is able to keep him alive; and she never ceases to complain of the silence which he has invariably kept since he was wounded.”
“No one, prince,” replied the sultan, “deserves greater commisseration than yourself; nor can any one be more sensible of your misfortune than I am. A more extraordinary fate can never have happened to any; and they, who may hereafter compose your history, will be able to relate an event the most surprising of any hitherto recorded. One thing only is wanting to complete it, and that is for you to be revenged: nor will I leave any thing untried to accomplish it.” The sultan having first informed the prince who he was, and the reason of his entering the castle, consulted with him on the best means of affording him a just revenge; and a plan occurred to the sultan, which he directly communicated. They then agreed upon the steps it was necessary to take, in order to insure success; and they deferred the execution of the plan till the following day. In the mean time, as the night was far advanced, the sultan took some repose. The young prince, as usual, passed his time in continual watchfulness; for he was unable to sleep since his enchantment: the hopes, however slight, which he cherished of being soon relieved from his sufferings constantly occupied his thoughts.
The sultan rose as soon as it was day; and having concealed his robe and external dress, which might incumber him, he went to the Palace of Tears. He found it illuminated by a multitude of torches of white wax; and a delicious perfume issuing from various beautiful golden vases, regularly arranged, struck his senses. As soon as he perceived the bed on which the black was laid, he drew his sabre, and destroyed, without resistance, the little remains of life in this wretch. He then dragged the body into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. Having done this he returned, and laid down in the black’s place, hiding his sabre under the covering, and remained there in order to complete what he projected. The enchantress arrived soon after: her first business was to go into the apartment where the king of the Black Isles, her husband, was. She directly stripped him, and, with unexampled barbarity, began to inflict upon his shoulders the accustomed number of blows. The poor prince filled the whole building with his cries, and conjured her in the most pathetic manner to have pity on him: the wretch, however, ceased not to beat him till she had completed the hundred. “Thou hadst no compassion on my lover,” said she, “expect therefore none from me.” As soon as she had finished, she threw the coarse garment made of goat-skin over him, and then the robe of brocade. She next went to the Palace of Tears; and, on entering, began to renew her lamentations. When she approached the couch where she thought her lover always remained, she exclaimed, “What cruelty to have thus destroyed the tranquil joy of so tender and fond a mistress as I am! Cruel prince, thou reproachest me with being inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment, and has not thy barbarity far exceeded my revenge? Hast thou not, traitor, in destroying almost the existence of so adorable an object, equally destroyed mine? Alas!” added she, addressing herself to the sultan, whom she took for the black, “will you always, light of my life, preserve this silence? Are you resolved to let me die without the consolation of hearing you again declare you love me. Utter, at least, one word, I conjure you.”
The sultan then, pretending to awake from a profound sleep, and imitating the language of the blacks, answered the queen in a solemn tone. “There is no strength or power, but in God alone, who is all-powerful.” At these words the enchantress, to whom they were unexpected, gave a violent scream through excess of joy. “My dear lord,” she exclaimed, “do you deceive me: is what I hear true? Is it really you who speak?”—“Wretched woman,” replied the sultan, “are you worthy of an answer?”—“What!” cried the queen, “do you reproach me?”—“The cries, the tears, the groans of thy husband,” answered the supposed black, “whom you every day beat with so much indignity and barbarity, continually prevent my rest: I should have been cured long since, and recovered the use of my tongue, if you had disenchanted him. This, and this only, is the cause of my silence, and of which you so severely complain.”—“Well then,” said the enchantress, “to satisfy you, I am ready to do what you command: do you wish him to reassume his first form?”—“Yes,” replied the sultan, “and hasten to set him free, that I may no longer be disturbed by his cries.”
The queen immediately went out from the Palace of Tears; and taking a vessel of water, she pronounced over it some words, which caused it instantly to boil, as if it had been placed on a fire. She proceeded to the apartment, where the young king, her husband, was; “If the creator of all things,” said she, throwing the water over him, “hath formed thee as thou now art, or if he is angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that state by virtue of my inchantment, reassume thy natural form, and become the same as before.” She had hardly concluded, when the prince, recovering his first shape, rose up with all possible joy, and returned thanks to God. “Go,” said the enchantress, addressing him, “hasten from this castle, and never return, lest it should cost you your life.”—The young king yielded to necessity, and left the queen without replying a word. He concealed himself in some secure spot, where he impatiently waited the completion of the sultan’s design, the commencement of which had been so successful.