“I was plunged in the deepest affliction, when your letter was delivered into my hands. At the sight of it alone I was transported with a joy I cannot express; but on reading the lines, which your beautiful hand had traced, my eyes were sensible of greater pleasure than that which they lost when yours so suddenly closed on the evening you fell senseless at my rival’s feet. The words contained in your obliging letter, are so many luminous rays that enliven the obscurity in which my soul was enveloped. They convince me how much you suffer for me, and also prove, that you are not ignorant of what I endure for you, and thus console me in my pain. At one moment they cause my tears to flow in abundant streams; at another, they inflame my heart with an unextinguishable fire, which supports it, and prevents my expiring with grief. I have not tasted one instant’s repose since our too cruel separation. Your letter alone procured me some relief from my misery. I preserved an uninterrupted silence till it was placed in my hands; but that has restored speech to me. I was wrapped in the most profound melancholy; but that has inspired me with a joy, which instantly proclaimed itself in my eyes and countenance. My surprise at receiving a favor so unmerited on my part, was so great, that I knew not how to express myself to testify my gratitude. In short, after having kissed it many times, as the precious pledge of your goodness, I perused and re-perused it till I was quite lost in the excess of my happiness. You tell me to say, that I love you still; ah! had my love for you been less passionate, less tender than that which occupies my whole soul, could I have done otherwise than adore you after all the proofs you give me of so uncommon an affection? Yes, I love you, my dearest life; and shall, to the end of my existence, glory in the pure flame which you have kindled in my heart. I will never complain of the vivid fire which consumes it; and, however rigorous the pains which your absence occasions may be, I will support them with constancy and firmness, encouraged by the hope of beholding you again. Would to God it were to-day, and that, instead of sending you this letter, I might be permitted to present myself before you, and assure you that I die for love of you. My tears prevent me from adding any more. Farewell.”
Ebn Thaher could not read the last lines without shedding tears himself. He returned the letter to the prince, assuring him it needed no correction. The prince folded it up, and when he had sealed it: “I beg you to approach,” said he to the confidential slave, who had retired a little; “this is the answer I have written to the letter of your dear mistress. I entreat you to take it to her, and to salute her from me.” The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher, who, after he had walked with her some way, left her and returned to his house, where he began to make some serious reflections on the love intrigue in which he found himself so unfortunately and deeply engaged. He considered that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding the strong interest they had in concealing their connection, behaved with so little discretion, that it could not long remain a secret. He drew from thence all the unfavorable conclusions which must naturally suggest themselves to a man of good sense. “If Schemselnihar,” thought he, “was not a lady of such high rank, I would exert myself to the utmost of my abilities to make her and her lover happy; but as she is the favorite of the caliph, no one can aspire to obtain her with impunity who has gained his affections. His anger will first fall on Schemselnihar; the prince will not escape with life; and I shall be involved in his misfortune. But I have my honor, my peace of mind, my family, and my property to take care of; I must then, while it is in my power, endeavour to extricate myself from so perilous a situation.”
His mind was occupied with thoughts of this nature for the whole of that day. The following morning he went to the prince of Persia, with the intention of making one last effort to induce him to conquer his unfortunate passion. In fact, he represented to him what he had before mentioned, to no effect; that he would do much better to exert all his courage to overcome this attachment to Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be led away to destruction by its means; that his love for her was of a more dangerous nature to himself, as his rival was so powerful. “In short, my lord,” added he, “if you will take my advice, you will endeavour to overcome your affection; otherwise you run the risk of causing the destruction of Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this counsel as a friend; and some day you will thank me for it.”
The prince listened to Ebn Thaher with evident impatience; nevertheless he allowed him to finish what he wished to say; but when he had concluded, he said, “Ebn Thaher, do you suppose that I can cease loving Schemselnihar, who returns my affection with so much tenderness? She does not hesitate to expose her life for me, and can you imagine, that the care of preserving mine should occupy me a single moment? No; whatever misfortunes may be the consequence, I will love Schemselnihar to my latest breath.”
Ebn Thaher, offended with the obstinacy of the prince, left him abruptly, and returned home: where, recollecting his reflections on the preceding day, he began to consider very seriously what course he should pursue.
While he was thus occupied, a jeweller, an intimate friend of his, came to see him. This jeweller had observed, that the confidential slave of Schemselnihar had been with Ebn Thaher more frequently than usual: and that he had been almost incessantly with the prince of Persia, whose indisposition was known to every one, although the cause was not; all this had created some suspicions in the jeweller’s mind. As Ebn Thaher appeared to be absorbed in thought, he supposed that some important affair occasioned it; and thinking he had hit on it, he asked him what business the slave of Schemselnihar had with him. Ebn Thaher was a little confused at this question; but not choosing to confess the truth, he replied, that it was only for some trifling thing that she came to him so often. “You do not speak sincerely,” resumed the jeweller, “and by your dissimulation you will make me suspect, that this trifle is of a nature more important than I had at first supposed it.”
Ebn Thaher, finding that his friend pressed him so closely, said, “It is true; this affair is of the utmost importance. I had determined to keep it a secret; but as I know you take a lively interest in every thing that concerns me, I will entrust you with the truth, rather than suffer you to make conclusions for which there is no foundation. I do not enjoin you to secrecy, for you will be sensible, from what I am going to relate, how impossible it would be to keep such a promise.” After this preface, he related to him the amours of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia. “You are aware,” added he, at the conclusion, “in what estimation I am held by the nobles and ladies of highest rank both in the court and city. What a disgrace for me, if this story becomes known! But what do I say? It would be absolute destruction to my whole family as well as to myself; this consideration embarrasses me the most: but I have resolved how to act: I owe it to my safety, and I must be firm. I am going with the greatest diligence to call in my debts, and satisfy those who are my creditors; and after I have secured all my property, I will retire to Balsora, where I will remain till the storm I see gathering over my head is passed. The friendship I feel for Schemselnihar, and for the prince of Persia, makes me very anxious on their account; I pray God to make them sensible of the danger to which they expose themselves, and to preserve them. But if their luckless destiny condemns their attachment to be known to the caliph, I at least shall be sheltered from his resentment; for I do not suspect them of sufficient malice to entangle me in their misfortune. Their ingratitude would be of the blackest die, if they acted thus; they would then repay with baseness the services I have done them, and the good advice I have given, particularly to the prince of Persia, who might still withdraw them from the precipice, if he were willing, and save his mistress as well as himself. It would be easy for him to leave Bagdad, as I shall; and absence would insensibly eradicate a passion which will only increase while he remains in this city.”
The jeweller heard this recital from Ebn Thaher with very great astonishment. “What you have now told me,” said he, “is of so much consequence, that I cannot comprehend how Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia could be so imprudent as to give way to such a violent passion. Whatever inclination they might feel for each other, instead of yielding to its influence, they ought to have resisted it with firmness, and made a better use of their reason. Could they be blind to the dreadful consequences of their connection? How sadly are they mistaken, if they suppose it can remain secret! I foresee, as well as yourself, the fatal termination of this affair. But you are prudent and wise, and I entirely approve the resolution you have formed; it is only by putting it in execution, that you can escape the direful events you so justly fear.” After this conversation, the jeweller arose, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher; but before he left him, the latter entreated him by the friendship which united them, not to reveal to any one what he had related to him. “Be easy on that score,” replied the jeweller, “I will keep the secret at the peril of my life.”
Two days after this, the jeweller happened to pass by the shop of Ebn Thaher, and observing that it was shut up, he concluded he had put in execution the design he had communicated to him. To be quite sure, however, he inquired of a neighbour, if he knew why it was not open. The neighbour replied, that he knew no more than that Ebn Thaher had set off on a journey. This was all the jeweller required; and the first person he thought of, was the prince of Persia. “Unhappy prince,” thought he, “how grieved you will be to learn this intelligence! By what means will you now be able to hold any intercourse with Schemselnihar? I fear despair will put a period to your existence. I feel compassion for you; and must endeavour to replace the loss of so timid a friend.”
The business which had led him out was not of immediate consequence; he therefore neglected that, and although he only knew the prince from having sold him some jewellery, he nevertheless went to his house. He requested one of the servants he met at the door, to tell his master that he wanted to speak to him on an affair of the greatest importance. The servant soon returned to the jeweller, and introduced him into the apartment of the prince, whom he found reclining on a sofa, with his head on the cushion. The prince, recollecting that he had seen him before, got up to receive him and give him welcome; and, after having begged him to sit down, he asked him, if he could render him any service; or if he came on business which related to him. “Prince,” replied the jeweller, “although I have not the honor to be much known to you, yet the zealous desire I have of serving you, has made me take the liberty of coming to acquaint you of a circumstance which concerns you; I hope you will pardon this freedom, as it proceeds from a good intention.”