Then Bihzād advised the King to make up the requisite sum, by compelling his subjects to contribute their money; but the King was not willing to distress his people. However, by the persuasion of Bihzād, he extorted from them an additional sum of twenty lacs. Having thus collected seventy lacs of dīnars, Bihzād proposed that they should be immediately transmitted to the Kaisar of Rūm. Letters were accordingly written, and messengers despatched with the money, who were instructed to say, that the remaining sum of thirty lacs should speedily be sent after. When these messengers arrived at Rūm, they presented the letters and gifts to the Kaisar, with the money. He treated the messengers with great respect, accepted the money, and agreed to the proposed conditions; after which they returned to Aleppo, and reported their success. Bihzād then urged his father to collect by any means the thirty lacs of dīnars still deficient, either by a forced loan from the merchants, or by taxing the peasants of the country; but the King advised him to be patient, and wait until they should recover from the effects of the late exactions; and said: “You have already rendered me poor, and now you wish to complete my ruin, and occasion the loss of my kingdom.”
Bihzād desired his father to keep his kingdom, and declared his intention of setting out immediately. The King, much afflicted at the thought of his son’s departure, entreated him to wait one year, that the people might forget the sums they had already paid; but Bihzād would not consent. The King then begged that he would be patient for six months; this also he refused.—“Wait even three months,” said his father.—“I cannot wait three days,” said the impatient youth. On which the King, disgusted with such obstinacy, desired his son to go wherever he pleased. Bihzād immediately retired; and, having clothed himself in armour, with two confidential servants set out upon his journey.
It happened that one morning they overtook a caravan, consisting of a hundred camels loaded with valuable commodities, proceeding on the way to Rūm. The chief of this caravan was a man of considerable wealth, with a numerous train of attendants, and he was held in great esteem by the Kaisar. When Bihzād and his two companions espied the caravan, they rushed forward with loud shouts, but were instantly seized, and their hands and feet bound: they were then brought before the chief, who ordered that they should be flung upon a camel. When they arrived at Rūm, the chief took Bihzād to his own house, and kept him confined for three days.
On the third day, having looked attentively at his prisoner, he discovered in his air and manner something that bespoke his princely origin and education. He inquired into the circumstances of his adventure, but Bihzād answered only with tears. The chief then said: “If you tell me the truth of this affair, I will set you free; and if you do not, I shall inform the Kaisar of your offence, and he will cause you to be hanged.”
Bihzād, not knowing what else to do, related his whole history to the chief of the caravan, who, moved with compassion, desired him not to despair, for he would lend him the thirty lacs of dīnars, and procure him the Kaisar’s daughter, on condition of his being repaid whenever Bihzād should become king.
To this Bihzād gladly consented; and the chief, having unloosed his fetters, clothed him in royal garments, and dressed his servants also in splendid attire; and having given him thirty lacs of dīnars, he led him to the palace: then he left Bihzād at the door, whilst he himself went in and informed the Kaisar that the Prince of Aleppo was waiting for the honour of presenting to his Majesty the thirty lacs of dīnars, which he had brought sealed up.
The Kaisar consented to receive Bihzād, who, on being introduced, paid due homage, and was treated with great kindness, and placed by the Kaisar’s side. After much conversation, the Kaisar desired him to declare the object of his wishes, and promised that, whatever it might be, he would endeavour to procure it for him. Bihzād replied, that his only desire in this world was to obtain the Princess for his wife. The Kaisar begged that he would wait ten days; but to this delay he would not consent. The Kaisar then entreated that he would be patient for five days; and this also he refused to do.—“At least,” said the Kaisar, “wait three days, that the women may have time to make the necessary preparations.” But Bihzād would not consent.—“This one day, however,” then said the Kaisar, “you must be patient, and to-morrow you shall espouse my daughter.”—“Since it must be so,” replied Bihzād, “I’ll wait this day, but no longer.”
The Kaisar gave orders that the Princess should be brought to the garden of the palace, and all the nobles assembled, and banquets provided for the entertainment of Bihzād. When night came, Bihzād, having indulged in wine, became impatient to behold the Princess, and, going to the summer-house, in which she was, he discovered an aperture in the wall, to which he applied his eye. The Princess at that moment happened to perceive the aperture, and found that some person was looking at her through it. She immediately ordered her attendants to burn out his eyes with red-hot irons.
This order was put in execution without delay. The unhappy Bihzād, crying aloud, fell on the ground, deprived of sight. His voice being at length recognised, the servants ran out and beheld him rolling in agony on the ground. They exclaimed, and tore their hair, but all in vain. The news was brought to the Kaisar, who said: “What can be done? This silly youth has brought the evil on himself by his own impatience, and has occasioned the loss of his own eyes.” He then directed that Bihzād should be sent back to Aleppo, as he could not give his daughter to a person deprived of sight.
When the unhappy youth returned to Aleppo, his father and mother, and the inhabitants of the city, all wept at his misfortunes; but their compassion was of no avail. After some time the King died; but the people introduced a stranger, and placed him on the throne, saying that a blind man was not capable of governing. And the remainder of Bihzād’s life passed away in misery, and in repentance for his rashness and impatience.