He then thought no more of his horse, but was in the greatest distress how to save his own life. He endeavoured to avoid the attack of the lion, who never lost sight of him, and kept pursuing him among the trees. “God,” said he to himself in this extremity, “would not have inflicted this punishment upon me, if the princes, whom I have been ordered to kill, were not innocent. Unfortunately, too, I have not my scimitar to defend myself with.”
During the absence of Giondar, the two princes experienced the most burning thirst, brought on by the fear of death, which they felt, notwithstanding their manly and generous resolution to submit to the cruel order of their father. Prince Amgiad then observed to his brother that they were not far from a spring of water, and proposed to him to unbind themselves and go and drink. “It is not worth the trouble, my brother,” said Assad, “to quench our thirst for the few moments we have to live: we shall have to support it only for a short time longer.” Without, however, paying any attention to this speech, Amgiad unbound both himself and his brother, though against the inclination of the latter. They went to the spring; and when they had thus refreshed themselves they heard the roaring of the lion, accompanied by the most piercing cries, issue from the wood into which Giondar had run after his horse. Amgiad instantly took up the scimitar which Giondar had thrown down. “Brother,” he cried out, “let us hasten to the assistance of the unfortunate Giondar; perhaps we may arrive in time to deliver him from the danger he seems to be in.”
The two princes lost no time; and they arrived at the very instant in which the lion had pulled Giondar down to the ground. No sooner did the animal observe prince Amgiad approaching with his scimitar in his hand, than he let his prey go and ran at him with the greatest fury. The prince waited to receive him with intrepidity and coolness, and gave him a blow, with so much strength and skill, that the lion fell instantly dead at his feet.
As soon as Giondar perceived that he was indebted for his life to the two princes, he threw himself at their feet, and thanked them for the great favor and assistance they had shown him, in a manner that evinced the strongest gratitude. “Princes,” said he to them when he got up, while his tears fell upon their hands, “God forbid, that I should ever attempt to take your lives after the essential help you have afforded me in saving my own. It shall never be said, that the emir Giondar was capable of such black ingratitude.”
“The service we have done you,” replied the princes, “ought by no means to prevent you from executing your orders. Go and take your horse; and let us return to the spot where you left us.” They had now no difficulty in catching the horse, whose alarm and spirit was much abated, and who stopped of himself. In spite, however, of every thing they could urge to Giondar, as they were returning towards the spring, either by entreaty or prayer, they could not persuade him to be the instrument of their death. “The only thing that I take the liberty to ask of you,” said he, “and which I beg you not to refuse, is to accommodate yourselves as well as you can with my clothes between you, and to let me have yours; and then to save yourselves at such a distance, that the king, your father, may never again even hear your names mentioned.”
The princes at length complied with all his wishes; and after having given him both their dresses, they put on as much as he could spare of his clothes. Giondar then obliged them to take whatever money he had about him, and departed.
After the emir had left the princes, he passed through the wood, where he dipped their clothes in the blood of the lion, and then continued his way to the capital of the Isle of Ebony. On his arrival, king Camaralzaman asked him if he had faithfully executed the orders he had received. “Sire,” replied Giondar, presenting the bloody habits of the two princes to him, “behold the proofs.”—“Inform me,” said the king, “in what manner they behaved on suffering the punishment I ordered to be inflicted on them.”—“They received it, sire,” answered Giondar, “with the most exemplary fortitude; and with such perfect resignation to the decrees of God, as fully proved the sincerity of their belief in their religion. Above all, they showed towards your majesty the greatest respect, and most entire submission to your order for their deaths. “We die innocent,” they exclaimed, “but we do not murmur at our fate. We receive our death from the hands of God, and we heartily forgive the king our father. We well know he is ignorant of the truth!” Camaralzaman was sensibly affected at the account given by Giondar. He then thought he would examine the clothes of his sons, and began by feeling in the pockets of Amgiad; where he found a letter, which he opened and read. No sooner did he discover, not only by the handwriting, but by a small lock of hair which was within side, that it came from queen Haiatalnefous, than he absolutely groaned aloud. He then, with trembling hands, examined those of prince Assad, and finding there the letter of queen Badoura, his astonishment had such a violent and sudden effect upon him, that he fainted.
Never did any one show greater signs of grief than did Camaralzaman when he recovered his senses. “What have you been guilty of, O barbarous father,” he exclaimed, “you have even destroyed your own offspring. Innocent sons! could not your sense, your modesty, your obedience, your entire submission to his wishes, nor even your virtues, defend you from his rage? Blind misguided parent, do you think that the earth ought even to bear you after so execrable a crime? I have brought this abomination on myself; and it is the punishment which God has inflicted upon me for not persevering in my hatred against women, which I possessed from my very birth. I will not, ye detestable women, wash away your crime with your blood; no, you are not even worthy of my anger: but may heaven itself pour destruction on my head if ever I see you again!”
The king kept his oath most religiously. He ordered, on the very same day, the two queens to be each conveyed to a separate apartment, where they always remained well guarded; and, during the rest of his life he never went near them.
While Camaralzaman was thus afflicting himself for the loss of the princes, his sons, of which he was himself the cause by his too precipitate conduct, the two princes wandered about the most desert places; endeavouring to avoid every trace of human habitations, for fear of meeting with any living being. They supported themselves upon herbs and wild fruits, and drank only bad rain water, which they found in the excavations and holes of rocks. And when night approached, they slept only by turns, in order to guard against wild beasts.