After this preface, the jeweller began his story, and proceeded thus: “Prince, you will allow me the honor of telling you, that the conformity of our minds, together with some affairs we had to transact with each other, has given rise to a firm friendship which exists between Ebn Thaher and myself. I know his acquaintance with you, and that he has, till now, exerted himself to serve you to the utmost of his ability; this I learned from his own lips, for we never practise concealment with each other. I just now passed by his shop, and was surprised to find it shut up. I inquired the reason of one of his neighbours, who told me, that Ebn Thaher had taken his leave of him, and of the other neighbours, two days since; at the same time offering them his services at Balsora, whither he said he was going on an affair of considerable importance. I was not thoroughly satisfied with this answer; and the interest I feel in whatever concerns him, induced me to come to ask you, if you knew any thing particular about this sudden departure.”
At this speech, to which the jeweller had given that turn he thought most likely to forward his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked al the jeweller with an air which evidently proved how much he was afflicted at this intelligence. “What you tell me,” said he, “astonishes me; I could not have met with a more mortifying occurrence. Yes,” cried he, the tears flowing from his eyes, “I have no hope left, if what you tell me is true! Ebn Thaher, who was my only consolation and support, forsakes me! I no longer seek to live after so cruel a blow!”
The jeweller had heard enough to be fully convinced of the violence of the prince’s love, with which Ebn Thaher had already acquainted him. Simple friendship does not express itself in such strong language; love, alone, is capable of inspiring sentiments so animated.
The prince remained for some minutes absorbed in the most distracting reflections. He at length raised his head, and addressing one of his attendants, “Go,” said he, “to Ebn Thaher’s house; speak to some of his servants, and inquire if it be true, that he is set off for Balsora. Run there instantly; and return as quickly as possible, that I may learn what you have heard.” While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to converse with the prince on indifferent subjects, but he seemed totally inattentive; his mind was lost in thought. Sometimes he could not persuade himself, that Ebn Thaher was really gone; then he felt convinced of it, when he recollected the conversation he had held with his friend the last time he had seen him, and the abrupt manner in which he left him.
At length, the servant of the prince returned, and said, that he had spoken with one of the people belonging to Ebn Thaher, who assured him, that he was no longer in Bagdad, and that he had set off two days since for Balsora. “As I was coming out of the house of Ebn Thaher,” continued the servant, “a well dressed female slave accosted me; and having asked me, if I had not the honor of being one of your attendants, she said, that she wanted to speak to you, and begged me at the same time to allow her to come with me. She is in the antichamber, and, I believe, has a letter to deliver from some person of consequence.” The prince immediately desired that she might be admitted; not doubting that it was the confidential slave of Schemselnihar, whom, in fact, she proved to be.
The jeweller knew her again from having met her sometimes at Ebn Thaher’s, who told him who she was. She could not have arrived at a more seasonable time, to prevent the prince from giving way to despair. She saluted him, as he did in return. The jeweller had risen as soon as she entered, and had withdrawn a little to leave them at liberty to converse together. The slave, after having remained some time with the prince, took her leave, and went away. She left him quite different from what he was before, his eyes appeared more sparkling, and his countenance more cheerful, which led the jeweller to suppose, that the good slave had been saying something favorable to his attachment.
The jeweller, having resumed his place near the prince, said to him smiling, “I see, prince, you have some important affairs at the palace of the caliph.” The prince, surprised and alarmed at this speech, replied, “What induces you to think, that I have any affairs at the palace of the caliph?”—“I conclude so,” resumed the jeweller, “from the slave who has just left you.”—“And to whom do you suppose this slave belongs?” inquired the prince.—“To Schemselnihar, the Favorite of the caliph,” replied the jeweller. “I know this slave,” continued he, “and her mistress also, who has sometimes done me the honor of coming to my shop to buy jewellery. I know, moreover, that this slave is admitted into all the secrets of Schemselnihar; I have seen her for some days past, continually walking about the streets with a pensive air, from which, I imagine, she is now concerned in something of consequence, which relates to her mistress.”
These words of the jeweller confused the prince of Persia. He would not talk to me thus, thought he, if he did not suspect, or rather if he did not know, my secret. He remained silent for some minutes, not knowing how to act. At length he spoke, and said to the jeweller, “You tell me some things, which lead me to think you know still more than you say. It is very necessary to my peace of mind, that I should know the whole; I entreat you, therefore, to conceal nothing from me.”
The jeweller, who could not desire a better opportunity, then gave him an exact detail of the conversation he had had with Ebn Thaher; and thus let him know, that he was apprised of the intercourse that subsisted between him and Schemselnihar; he did not omit telling him, that Ebn Thaher, alarmed at the danger which his office of confidant placed him in, had imparted to him the design he had formed, of quitting Bagdad for Balsora, where he intended to remain until the storm, which he dreaded, was appeased. “This he has put in execution,” continued the jeweller, “and I am surprised how he could prevail on himself to abandon you in the state which he described you to be in. As for me, prince, I confess to you, that I was moved with compassion for your sufferings, and I come to offer you my services; and if you will do me the honor to accept them, I promise to observe the same fidelity towards you as Ebn Thaher has done; and engage, moreover, to continue more firm and constant. I am ready to sacrifice my life and honor in your service; and, that you may have no doubts of my sincerity, I swear by every thing most sacred in our holy religion, to preserve your secret inviolably. Be assured, then, prince, that in me you will find a friend equal to the one you have lost.”
This speech afforded the prince of Persia great consolation, and reconciled him to the voluntary banishment of Ebn Thaher. “I feel great satisfaction,” said he, “in finding in you so good a substitute for the loss I have suffered. I cannot sufficiently express how much I think myself indebted to you; and, I trust, that God will amply recompense your generosity. I accept, therefore, with great pleasure, the kind offer you have made me. Should you suppose,” continued the prince, “that Schemselnihar’s confidential slave has just been talking to me of you? She told me, that it was you who advised Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad. These were the very last words she said, as she left me; and she seemed thoroughly persuaded of their truth. She did you, however, great injustice; and, after every thing you have now informed me of, I have no doubt but she was completely deceived.”—“Prince,” replied the jeweller, “I have had the honor to give you both a literal and a faithful narrative of the conversation that took place between Ebn Thaher and myself. It is true, that when he told me of his intention of retiring to Balsora, I did not oppose his design: I even told him, I thought him both prudent and wise; but this ought not to prevent you from putting your whole confidence in me; for I am ready to afford you all my services; and to exert myself most warmly and indefatigably in your cause. If you think otherwise, and decline my interference, I will, nevertheless, as I have most solemnly sworn, religiously preserve your secret.”—“I have already told you,” replied the prince, “that I place not the least confidence in any thing the slave has said. It is her zeal only that has raised these suspicions in her mind, and which have not, in fact, the least foundation. You ought, therefore, like myself, to excuse her on that account.”