THE HISTORY OF ABOULHASSEN ALI EBN BECAR, AND SCHEMSELNIHAR, FAVOURITE OF CALIPH HAROUN ALRASCHID. (continued 2)

The confident's discourse perplexed the jeweller. Your mistress, replied he, must allow me to say, that she has not thought well of what she requires. Ebn Thaher's access to the caliph gave him admission every where; and the officers, who knew him, suffered him to go and come freely to Schemselnihar's palace; but, as for me, how dare I enter? You see well enough that it is not possible. I entreat you to represent those reasons to Schemselnihar which hinder me giving her that satisfaction, and acquaint her with all the ill consequences that would result from it. If she considers it ever so little, she will find that it would expose me needlessly to very great danger.

The confident endeavoured to encourage the jeweller: Believe me, said he, that Schemselnihar is not so unreasonable as to expose you to the least danger, from whom she expects such considerable services. Consider with yourself that there is not the least appearance of hazard: my mistress and I are too much interested in this affair to involve you in any danger. You may depend upon me, and leave yourself to my conduct. After the affair is over, you will confess to me that your fear was groundless.

The jeweller hearkened to the confident's discourse, and got up to follow her; but, notwithstanding his natural courage, he was seized with such terror that his whole body trembled. In the condition you are in, said she, I perceive it will be better for you to stay at home, and that Schemselnihar take other measures to see you. It is not to be doubted but that, to satisfy her desire, she will come hither herself. The case being so, sir, I would not have you to go, as I am persuaded it will not be long before she comes to you. The confident foresaw this very well; for she no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the jeweller's fear, than she made ready to go to his house.

He received her with all the marks of profound respect. When she sat down, being a little fatigued with walking, she unveiled herself, and discovered to the jeweller such beauty as made him acknowledge that the prince of Persia was excusable in giving his heart to her. Then she saluted the jeweller with a graceful countenance, and said to him, I am informed with what zeal you have engaged in the prince of Persia's concerns and mine; but, without immediately forming a design to express my gratitude, I thank Heaven, which has so soon made up Ebn Thaher's loss.

Schemselnihar said several other obliging things to the jeweller, after which she returned to her palace. The jeweller went immediately to give an account of this visit to the prince of Persia, who said to him, as soon as he saw him, I have expected you impatiently. The trusty slave has brought me a letter from her mistress, but she does not comfort me: whatever the lovely Schemselnihar says, I dare not hope for any thing; my patience is at an end; I know not now what measures to take. Ebn Thaher's departure makes me despair; he was my only support; I lost all by losing him, for I flattered myself with some hopes by reason of his access to Schemselnihar.

After these words, which the prince pronounced with so much eagerness that he gave the jeweller no time to interrupt him, he said to the prince, No man can bear a greater share of your affliction than I do; and if you will have patience to hear me, you will perceive that I am capable of giving you ease. Upon this the prince became silent, and hearkened to him. I see very well, said the jeweller, that the only thing to give you satisfaction is to fall upon a way that you may converse freely with Schemselnihar. This I will procure you, and to-morrow will set about it. You must by no means expose yourself to enter Schemselnihar's palace; you know by experience the danger of that: I know a very fit place for this interview, where you shall be safe. When the jeweller had spoken thus, the prince embraced him with a transport of joy. You revive, said he, by this charming promise, an unhappy lover who was resolved to die; I see that you have fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher: whatever you do will be well done; I leave myself entirely to you.

The prince, after thanking the jeweller for his zeal, returned home, and next morning Schemselnihar's confident came to him. He told her that he had put the prince of Persia in hopes that he should see Schemselnihar speedily. I am come purposely, answered she, to take measures with you for that end. I think, continued she, this house will be convenient enough for their interview. I could receive them very well here, replied he; but I think they will have more liberty in another house of mine, where nobody lives at present; I will quickly furnish it for receiving them. Since the matter is so, replied the confident, there remains nothing for me to do but to make Sehemselnihar consent to it. I will go tell her, and return speedily with an answer.

She was as diligent as her promise; and, returning to the jeweller, told him that her mistress would not fail to keep the appointment in the evening. In the mean time she gave him a purse of money to prepare a collation. He sent her immediately to the house where the lovers were to meet, that she might know whither to bring her mistress; and when she was gone, he went to borrow from his friends vessels of gold and silver, tapestry, rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he furnished the house very magnificently; and, when he had put all things in order, went to the prince of Persia.

You may easily conceive the prince of Persia's joy, when the jeweller told him that he came to conduct him to the house he had prepared to receive him and Schemselnihar. This news obliterated all his former trouble. He put on a magnificent robe, and went without his retinue along with the jeweller, who led him through several by-streets, that nobody might observe him, and at last brought him to the house, where they discoursed together until Schemselnihar came.

They did not stay long for this passionate lover. She came after evening-prayers, with her confident and two other slaves. The excess of joy that seized those two lovers, when they saw one another, it is altogether impossible to express. They sat down together upon the sofa for some time, without being able to speak, they were so much overjoyed; but, when speech returned to them, they soon made up for their silence. They expressed themselves with so much tenderness, as made the jeweller, the confident, and the two other slaves, weep. The jeweller, however, restrained his tears to think upon the collation, which he brought. The lovers ate and drank a little, after which they again sat down on the sofa. Schemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other instrument. The jeweller, who took care to provide all that might please them, brought her a lute, which she took some time to tune, and then played.

While Schemselnihar was thus charming the prince of Persia, and expressing her passion by words composed extempore, a great noise was heard, and immediately the slave whom the jeweller brought with him appeared in a terrible fright, to tell him that some people were breaking up the gate; that he asked who it was, but, instead of an answer, the blows were redoubled. The jeweller, being alarmed, left Schemselnihar and the prince, to go and inform himself of the truth of this bad news. There was already got into the court a company of men armed with bayonets and scimitars, who had entered privately, and, having broken up the gate, came straight towards him: he stood close to a wall for fear of his life, and saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them; and, finding that he could give no help to the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he satisfied himself with bewailing them, and fled for refuge to a neighbour's house, who was not yet gone to bed. He did not doubt that this unexpected violence was by the caliph's order, who, he thought, had been informed of his favourite's meeting with the prince of Persia. He heard a great noise in his own house, which continued till midnight; and when all was quiet, as he thought, he prayed his neighbour to lend him a scimitar, and, being thus armed, went on till he came to the gate of his own house. He entered the court full of fear, and perceived a man, who asked him who he was? He knew by his voice that it was his own slave. How didst thou do, said he, to avoid being taken by the watch? Sir, answered the slave, I hid myself in a corner of the court, and I went out as soon as I heard the noise. But it was not the watch who broke your house; they were highwaymen, who within these few days robbed another in this neighbourhood: they have doubtless had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and had that in their view.

The jeweller thought his slave's conjecture probable: he entered the house, and saw that the highwaymen had taken all the furniture out of the chamber where he received Schemselnihar and her lover; that they had also carried off the vessels of gold and silver, and, in a word, had left nothing. Being in this condition, O Heaven! cried he, I am irrecoverably undone! What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make, when I tell them that highwaymen have broken into my house, and robbed me of all that they generously lent me? I shall never be able to make up their loss. Besides, what is become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia? This business will be so public, that it is impossible but it must reach the caliph's ears. He will get notice of this meeting, and I shall fall a sacrifice to his fury. The slave, who loved him, endeavoured to comfort him thus: As to Schemselnihar, said he, the highwaymen probably would content themselves to strip her; and you have reason to think that she is retired to her palace with her slaves. The prince of Persia is probably in the same condition; so that you have reason to hope that the caliph will never know of this adventure. As for the loss your friends have sustained, that is a misfortune which you could not avoid. They know very well the highwaymen to be so numerous, that they have not only pillaged the house I have already spoken of, but many other houses of the principal noblemen of the court; and they are not ignorant that, notwithstanding the orders given to apprehend them, nobody has yet been able to seize any of them. You will be acquitted by restoring your friends the value of the things that are stolen; and, blessed be God, you have enough left.

Waiting till day, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the gate of the house, which was broken up, as well as he could: after which he returned to his ordinary house with his slave, making sad reflections on what had befallen him. Ebn Thaher, said he to himself, has been wiser than I; he foresaw the misfortune into which I have blindly thrown myself: would to God I had never meddled in this intrigue, which I fear will cost me my life!

It was scarcely day, when the report of the robbery had spread through the city, and there came to the house a great many of the jeweller's friends and neighbours, to testify their grief for this misfortune, but were curious to know the particulars. He thanked them for their affection, and was so much the better satisfied, that he heard nobody speak of Schemselnihar or the prince of Persia, which made him believe they were at their houses. or in some secure place.

When the jeweller was alone, his servants brought him something to eat, but he could not taste a bit. About noon one of his slaves came to tell him that a man was at the gate, whom he knew not, and desired to speak with him. The jeweller, not willing to receive a stranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak with him. Though you do not know me, said the man, I know you, and am come to discourse with you on an important affair. The jeweller prayed him to step in. No, answered the stranger; if you please, rather take the trouble to go with me to your other house. How know you, replied the jeweller, that I have another house? I know well enough, answered the stranger: follow me, do not fear any thing; I have something to communicate to you which will please you. The jeweller went immediately with him; and after he had considered by the way how the house they were going to was robbed, he said to him that it was not fit to receive him.

When they were before the house, and the stranger saw the gate half broken down, he said to the jeweller, I see you have told me the truth; I will carry you to a place which will be more convenient. He went on when he had spoken thus, and walked all the rest of the day without stopping. The jeweller being weary with walking, vexed to see night approach, and the stranger having walked all day without acquainting him where he was going, began to lose patience. Then they came to a path which led them to the Tigris; and as soon as they came to the river, they crossed in a little boat. The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he had never been before, and, after taking him through several streets, stopped at a gate, which he opened. He caused the jeweller to go in, shut the gate, bolted it with a huge iron bolt, and then conducted, him to a chamber, where there were ten other men, all as great strangers to the jeweller as his conductor.

The ten men received the jeweller without any compliments. They bid him sit down; of which he had great need, for he was not only weak with walking so far, but the fear be was in, on finding himself with people whom he thought he had reason to dread, would have disabled him from standing. They waited for their leader to supper, and, as soon as he came, it was served up. They washed their hands, obliging the jeweller to do the like, and to sit at table with them. After supper, the men asked him if he knew to whom he spoke. He answered, No, and that he knew not the place he was in. Tell us your last nights adventure, said they to him, and conceal nothing from us. The jeweller, being astonished at this discourse, answered, Gentlemen, it is probable you know it already. That is true, replied they, the young man and the young lady, who were at your house yesternight, told it us; but we would know it from your own mouth. The jeweller needed no more to be informed that they were the highwaymen who had broken up and plundered his house. Gentlemen, said he, I am much troubled for that young man and the lady; can you tell me any thing of them?

Upon the jeweller's inquiry if they knew any thing of the young man and the young lady, the thieves answered, Be not concerned for them; they are safe enough, and in good health: which saying, they showed him two closets, where they assured him they were separately shut up. They added, We are informed you only know what relates to them; which we no sooner came to understand, than we showed them all imaginable respect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated them with all the kindness we were capable of on your account. You may secure yourself the like favour, proceeded they, in regard to your own person, and put all manner of confidence in us without the least reserve.

The jeweller, being heartened at this, and overjoyed to hear that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage the thieves yet further in their interest. For this purpose he commended them, flattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions. Gentlemen, said he, I must confess I have not the honour of knowing you; yet it is no small happiness to me that I am not wholly unknown to you; and I can never be sufficiently grateful for the favours which that knowledge has procured me at your hands. Without mentioning so great an act of humanity as that I lately received from you, I must needs say, I am fully persuaded that no persons in the world can be so proper to be trusted with a secret, and none more fit to undertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good issue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity. In confidence of these great and good qualities, which are so much your due, I will not scruple to relate to you my whole history, with that of the two persons you found in my house.

After the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the thieves to secrecy, he made no scruple to relate to them the whole amour of the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the beginning of it to the time he received them into his house.

The thieves were greatly astonished at the surprising particulars they heard, and could not forbear crying out, How! is it possible that the young man should be the illustrious Ali Elm Becar, prince of Persia; and the young lady the fair and celebrated Schemselnihar! The jeweller assured them nothing was more certain, and that they needed not to think it strange that persons of so distinguished a character should not care to be known.

Upon this assurance of their quality, the thieves went immediately, one after the other, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring pardon, and begging them to believe they would never have offered any violence to their persons, had they known who they were; but, seeing they did not, they would by their future conduct do their best endeavours to make some recompence at least for the crime they had thus ignorantly committed. Having made profound reverences, they returned to the jeweller, and told him they were heartily sorry they could not restore all that had been taken from him, some part of it being out of their possession; but as for what remained, if he would content himself with his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hands.

The jeweller was overjoyed at the favour; and after the thieves had delivered the plate, they required the prince, Schemselnihar, and him, to promise upon oath that they would not betray them, and they would carry them to a place whence they might easily go to their respective homes. The prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, replied, that they might rely on their words; but since they desired an oath of them, they solemnly swore not to discover them so long as they were with them. With this the thieves were satisfied, and immediately set out to perform their promise.

By the way, the jeweller, being concerned that he could not see the confident and the two slaves, came up to Schemselnihar and begged her to inform him what was become of them. She answered, she knew nothing of them, and that all she could tell him was, that she was carried away from his house, ferried over a river, and brought to the place from whence they were just now come.

Schemselnihar and the jeweller had no further discourse; they found themselves at the brink of a river, whence the thieves immediately took boat, and carried them to the other side.

Whilst the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, were landing, they heard a noise as of horse-guards that were coming towards them. The thieves no sooner perceived the danger, but they took to their oars, and got over to the other side of the river in an instant.

The commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, who they were, and whence they came so late. This frightened them at first so much that they could not speak; but at length the jeweller found his tongue, and said, Sir, I can assure you, we are very honest people; but those persons who have just landed us, and are got to the other side of the water, are thieves, who, having last night broken open the house that we were in, pillaged it, and afterwards carried us to an obscure inn, where, by some entreaty and good management, we prevailed on them to let us have our liberty; to which end they brought us hither. They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from us. At these words he showed the plate he had recovered.

The commander, not being satisfied with what the jeweller told him, came up to him and the prince of Persia, and, looking steadfastly at them, said, Tell me truly who is this lady? how came you to know her? and whereabouts do you live?

This demand surprised them strangely, and tied their tongues, insomuch that neither of them could answer; till at length Schemselnihar, taking the commander aside, told him frankly who she was; which he no sooner came to know, than he alighted, paid both her and the company great respect, and caused two boats to be got ready for their service.

When the boats were come, he put Schemselnihar into one, and the prince of Persia and the jeweller into the other, with two of his people in each: they had orders to accompany them whithersoever they were bound. Being abroad, the two boats took different routes; but we shall at present speak only of that wherein were the prince and the jeweller.

The prince, to save his guides trouble, bid them land the jeweller with him, and named the place whither he would go. The guides, mistaking his orders, stopped just before the caliph's palace, which put both him and the jeweller into a fright, though he durst discover nothing of the matter; for though they had heard the commander's orders to his men, they could not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard, and brought before the caliph next morning.

This, nevertheless, was not the intention of the guides; for, after they had landed them, they, by their master's command, recommended them to an officer of the guard, who next morning assigned them soldiers to conduct them by land to the prince's chateau, which was at some distance from the river.

The prince being come home, what with the fatigue of his journey, and the affliction he conceived at being never likely again to see Schemselnihar, fell into a swoon on his sofa; and while the greater part of his servants was endeavouring to recover him, the other part gathered about the jeweller, and begged of him to tell them what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had occasioned inexpressible disquiet.

The jeweller, who would discover nothing to them that was not prudent to be repealed, told them it was not a proper time for such a relation, and that they would do better to go and assist the prince, than require anything of him, especially at that juncture. The prince fortunately came to himself that very moment; when those that but just before required his history with so much earnestness, began now to get at a distance, and pay that respect which was due from them. Although the prince had in some measure recovered himself, yet he continued so weak, that he could not open his mouth. He answered only by signs, and that even to his nearest relations who spoke to him. He remained in the same condition till next morning, when the jeweller came to take leave of him. His answer was only with a wink, holding forth his right hand; but when he saw he was loaded with the bundle of plate the thieves had taken from him, he made a sign to his servants that they should take and carry it along with him to his house.

The jeweller had been expected home with great impatience by his family the day he went forth with the man that came to ask for him, and whom he did not know; but no who was quite given over, and it was no longer doubted that some disaster had befallen him. His wife, children, and servants, were in continual grief, and lamented him night and day; but at length, when they saw him again, their joy was so great, they could hardly contain themselves; yet they were troubled to find that his countenance was greatly altered from what it had been before, insomuch that he was hardly to be known. This was thought to have been occasioned by his great fatigue, and the fears he had undergone, which would not let him sleep. Finding himself something out of order, he continued within doors for two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends to visit him.

The third day, perceiving himself better, he thought he might regain strength by going abroad, and therefore went to the shop of a rich friend of his, with whom he continued long in discourse. As he was rising to go home, he observed a woman make a sign to him, whom he presently knew to be the confident of Schemselnihar. Partly out of fear, and partly through joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she followed him, as he very well knew she would, the place in which they saw each other being by no means proper for an interview. As he walked a little faster than usual, she could not overtake him, and therefore every now and then called out to stop. He heard her, it is true; but, after what had happened, he did not think fit to take notice of her in public, for fear of giving cause to believe that he had been with Schemselnihar. In short, it was known to every body in Bagdad that this woman belonged to her, and therefore he thought it prudent to conceal his having any knowledge of her. He continued the same pace, and at last came to a mosque, where he knew but few people resorted; there he entered, and she after him, wherein they had a long converse together, without any body overhearing them.

Both the jeweller and the confident expressed a great deal of joy at seeing each other after the strange adventure occasioned by the thieves, and their reciprocal concern for each other's welfare, without mentioning a word of what related to their own particular persons.

The jeweller would needs have her relate to him how she escaped with the two slaves, and what she knew of Sehemselnihar from the time he had left her; but so great were her importunities to be informed of what had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that he found himself obliged to comply. Having finished what she desired, he told her that he expected she would oblige him in her turn; which she did in the following manner.

When I first saw the thieves, said she, I imagined, rightly considered, that they were of the caliph's guard, who, being informed of the escape of Schemselnihar, had sent them to take away the lives of the prince and us all; but, being convinced of the error of that thought, I immediately got upon the leads of your house, at the same time that the thieves entered the chamber where the prince and Schemselnihar were, and was soon after followed by that lady's two slaves. From lead to lead, we came at last to a house of very honest people, who received us with a great deal of civility, and with whom we lodged that night.

Next morning, after we had returned thanks to the master of the house for our good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar's hotel, which we entered in great disorder, and the more so as we could not learn the fate of the two unfortunate lovers. The other women of Schemselnihar were astonished to see me return without their lady. We told them we had left her at the house of a lady, one of her friends, and that she would send for us when she had a mind to come home; with which excuse they seemed well satisfied.

For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness; and when night came, opening a little back gate, I espied a boat driven along by the stream. Calling to the waterman, I desired him to row up the river, to see if he could not meet a lady, and, if he found her, to bring her along with him. The two slaves and I waited impatiently for his return; and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern. When the boat came up, the two men helped the woman to rise; and then it was that I knew her to be Schemselnihar. I rejoiced so greatly to see her, that I cannot sufficiently express myself.

I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat. She had no small occasion for my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When she was ashore, she whispered me in the ear in an afflicted tone, bidding me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and give to the soldiers who had waited on her. I obeyed, leaving her to be supported by the two slaves; and, having paid the waterman, shut the back door.

I then followed my lady, who was hardly got to her chamber before I overtook her. We undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been before she was ready to give up the ghost; in which condition she continued the remainder of the night. The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been much fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her. The other women and I, nevertheless, gave her all the assistance we possibly could. She persisted in swallowing nothing which we offered; and we must have despaired of her life, had I not persuaded her to take a spoonful or two of wine, which had a sensible effect on her. By mere importunity, we at length prevailed upon her to eat also.

When she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only mourned, groaned, and sighed, I begged her to tell me how she escaped out of the hands of the thieves. Why should you require of me, said she, with a profound sigh, what will but renew my grief? Would to God the thieves had taken away my life, rather than preserved it, as in that case my misfortunes would have had an end; whereas I now live but to increase my torment.

Madam, replied I, I beg you will not refuse me this favour. You cannot but know that unhappy people have a certain consolation in venting their misfortunes; and if you be pleased to relate yours, I doubt not that you will find some relief in so doing.

Why then, said she, lend your ear to a story the most afflicting that can be imagined. You must know, when I first saw the thieves entering with sword in hand, I believed it the last moment of my life: but dying did not then seem so shocking to me, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia. However, instead of murdering, two of the thieves were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods which they found in the house. When they had done, and had got their bundles upon their backs, they went away, carrying us along with them.

As we went along one of those who had the charge of us demanded of me briskly who I was: I answered, I was a dancer. He put the same question to the prince, who replied that he was a shopkeeper.

When they were come to the place whither they were going, I had new fears to alarm me; for they gathered about us, and, after considering well my habit, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to think that I had disguised my quality. Dancers, said they, do not use to be dressed as you are; pray tell us truly who you are.

When they saw I answered nothing, they asked the prince once more who he was; for they told him they perceived he was not the person he pretended. He did not satisfy them any more than I had done; but only told them he came to see the jeweller, who was the owner of the house where they found us. I know this jeweller, said one of the rogues, who seemed to have some authority over the rest; I have some obligations to him, of which he yet knows nothing; and I take upon me to bring him hither to-morrow morning from another house he has; but you must not expect to stir till he come and tell us who you are; though, in the mean time, I promise there shall be no manner of injury offered to you.

The jeweller was brought next morning, as he said; who, thinking to oblige us, as he really did, declared to the rogues the whole truth of the matter. The thieves no sooner knew who we were, but they came and asked my pardon; and I believe did the like to the prince, who was shut up in another room. They protested to me, they would not have broken open the jeweller's house, had they known whose it was. They soon after took us, (the prince, the jeweller, and myself), and carried us to the river-side, where, having put us on board the boat, they rowed us across the water; but we were no sooner landed, than a party of the horse-guards came up to us.

The rogues fled. I took the commander aside, and told him my name, informing him withal, that the night before I had be seized by robbers who forced me along with them; but having been told who I was, they had re*aleased me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account. He alighted and paid his respects to me; and expressing a great deal of joy for being able to oblige me, he caused two boats to be brought, putting me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, and the prince, and jeweller, with two more, into the other. My guides have conducted me hither; but what is become of the prince and his friend, I cannot tell.

I trust in Heaven, added she, with a shower of tears, no harm has happened to them since our separation; and I do not doubt that the prince's concern is equal to mine. The jeweller, to whom we have been so much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss he has sustained on our account. Do not you therefore fail, said she, speaking to the confident, to take two purses of a thousand pieces of gold each, and carry them to him to-morrow morning in my name; and, at the same time, be sure to inquire after the prince's welfare.

When my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to the last article of inquiring into the prince's welfare, to calm her mind, which was in some disorder, and to persuade her not to yield so much to love, since the danger she had so lately escaped would be soon renewed by such indulgence. She bid me hold my tongue, and do what she had commanded. I was forced to be silent, and am come hither to obey her commands without any further scruple. I have been at your house, and, not finding you at home, was about to have gone to wait on the prince of Persia, but did not dare to attempt so great a journey. I have left the two purses with a particular friend of mine, and, if you have patience, I shall go and fetch them immediately.

The confident returned quickly to the jeweller in the mosque, where she had left him. She gave him the two purses, and bid him accept them for her lady's sake. They are more than necessary, said the jeweller; and I can never be enough thankful for so great a present from so good and generous a lady: but I beseech you to acquaint her, on my behalf, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance of her bounties. He then agreed with the confident, that she should find him at the place where she had first seen him whenever she had occasion to impart any commands from Schemselnihar, or to know any thing of the prince of Persia.

The jeweller returned home very well satisfied, not only that he had got wherewithal plentifully to make up his losses, but also to think that no person in Bagdad could possibly come to know of the prince and Schemselnihar being in his other house when it was robbed. It is true, he had acquainted the thieves with it, but their secrecy he thought might very well be depended on, as he imagined they had not sufficient converse with the world to give him any disturbance. He therefore hugged himself in his good fortune, paid his debts, and furnished both his houses to a nicety. Thus he forgot all his past danger, and next morning set out to wait on the prince of Persia.

The prince's domestics told the jeweller, on his arrival, that he came in very good time to make their lord speak, for they had not been able to get a word out of him ever since he was there. They introduced him softly into his chamber, where he found him in such a condition as raised his pity. He was lying in bed, with his eye-lids shut; but when the jeweller saluted him, and exhorted him to take courage, be faintly opened his eyes, and regarded him with such an aspect, as sufficiently declared the greatness of his affliction. He, however, took and grasped him by the hand, to testify his friendship, telling him, in a faint and weak tone, that he was extremely obliged to him for coming so far to seek one so exceedingly unhappy and miserable.

My lord, replied the jeweller, mention not, I beseech you, any obligations you owe to me; I could wish, with all my soul, that the good offices I have endeavoured to do you had had a better effect. But, at present, let us discourse only of your health, which I fear you greatly injure by unreasonably abstaining from proper nourishment.

The prince's servants, hearing the jeweller say this, took occasion to let him know that it was with the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on him to take even the smallest morsel and that for some time he had taken nothing. This obliged the jeweller to beg the prince to let his servants bring him something to eat, which favour he obtained with much intercession.

After the prince had eaten more largely than he had hitherto, at the persuasion of the jeweller, he commanded the servants to quit the room, and leave him alone with his friend. When the room was clear, he said, In conjunction with my misfortune which distracts me, I have been exceedingly concerned to think of what you have suffered on my account; and as it is but reasonable that I should make you a recompence, I shall be sure to take the first opportunity; at present, however, begging only your pardon a thousand times, I must conjure you to tell me whether you have learnt any thing of Schemselnihar since I had the misfortune to be parted from her.

Here the jeweller, upon the confident's information, related to him all that he knew of Schemselnihar's arrival at her hotel, her state of health from the time he had left her, and how she had sent her confident to him to inquire after his highness's welfare.

To all this the prince replied with sighs and tears only; then he made an effort to get up, and, being assisted by the jeweller, made shift to rise. Being upon his legs, he called his servants, and made them open his wardrobe, whither he went in person, and having caused several bundles of rich goods and plate to be packed up, ordered them to be carried to the jeweller's house.

The jeweller would fain have withstood this kind offer; but although he represented that Schemselnihar had already made him more than sufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince would be obeyed. The jeweller thought himself obliged to make every possible acknowledgment, and protested how much he was confounded at his highness's liberality. He would then have taken his leave, but the prince would not let him; so they passed in discourse the greater part of the night.

Next morning the jeweller waited again on the prince before he went away, but he would not let him stir; he must first sit down, and hear what he had to say. You know, said he, there is an end proposed in all things. Now, the end the lover proposes, is to enjoy the beloved object in spite of all opposition. If he loses that hope, he must not think to live. You also know that this is my hard case; for when I had been twice at the very point of fulfilling my desires, I was all of a sudden torn from her I loved in the most cruel manner imaginable: I had then no more to do, but to think of death; and I had certainly proved my own executioner, did not our holy laws forbid us to commit suicide. But there is no need of such violent means; death will soon do its own work by a sure though gentle method; I find myself in a manner gone, and that I have not long to wait the welcome blow. Here he was silent, and vented the rest of his passion only in groans, sighs, and tears, which came from him in great abundance.

The jeweller, who knew no better way of turning him from despair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving him some hopes of enjoying her, told him, he feared the confident might be come from her lady, and therefore did not think it proper to stay any longer from home. I will let you go, said the prince; but conjure you, that if you see her, you recommend to her to assure Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do every minute, I will love her to the last moment, and bless her with my last breath.

The jeweller returned home in expectation of seeing the confident, who came some few hours after, but all in tears, and in great affliction. He asked, with great earnestness, what was the matter; she answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself, and he, were all ruined. He demanded how. Hear the sad news, said she, as it was told me just upon my entering our hotel, after I had left you.

Schemselnihar had, it seems, for some fault, chastised one of the slaves you saw with her in your other house; the slave, enraged at the ill treatment, ran presently, and, finding the gate open, went forth; so that we have just reason to believe she has discovered all to an eunuch of the guard, who gave her protection, as we have since heard.

This is not all. The other slave, her companion, is fled too, and has taken refuge in the caliph's palace, so that we may well fear she has acted her part in a discovery; for, just as I came away, the caliph had sent twenty of his eunuchs for Schemselnihar, who carried her to the palace. I just found means to come and tell you this, yet I fear no good will come of it; but, above all, I recommend it to you as a secret.

The confident added, that it was expedient he should go and acquaint the prince with the whole affair, that he might be ready on all occasions, and contribute what he was able to the common cause; upon which she departed in great haste, without speaking a word more, or waiting for an answer.

What answer, however, could the jeweller have made, in the deplorable condition he was placed? He stood still as if thunderstruck, and had not a word to say. He was, however, sensible that the affair required expedition, and therefore went immediately to give the prince an account of it. He addressed himself to him with an air that sufficiently showed the bad news he brought. Prince, said he to him, arm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive the most terrible assault ever yet made on your nature. Tell me, in few words, said the prince, what it is I must prepare to receive; for if it be death only, I am ready and willing to undergo it.

Then the jeweller told him all that he had learned from the confident. You see, continued he, that your destruction is inevitable, if you delay. Rise, save yourself by flight, for the time is precious. You, of all men, must not expose yourself to the anger of the caliph, and should much less confess any thing in the midst of torments.

At these words the prince was almost ready to expire with grief, affliction, and fear; he recovered, however, and demanded of the jeweller what resolution he would advise him to take in this unhappy conjuncture. The jeweller told him he thought nothing more proper than that he should immediately take horse, and haste away towards Anbar, [Footnote: Anbar is a city on the Tigris, twenty leagues below Bagdad.] that he might get thither with all convenient speed. Take what servants and horses you think necessary, continued he, and suffer me to escape with you.

The prince, seeing nothing more advisable, immediately gave orders for such an equipage as would be least troublesome; so having put some money and jewels in his pocket, and taking leave of his mother, he departed in company with the jeweller, and with such servants as he had chosen. They travelled all that day and the day following without stopping, till at length, about the dusk of the evening, their horses and selves being greatly fatigued, they alighted at an inn to refresh themselves.

They had hardly sat down, before they found themselves surrounded and assaulted by a gang of thieves. They defended their lives for some time courageously; but, at length, the prince's servants being all killed, both he and the jeweller were obliged to yield at discretion. The thieves, however, spared their lives; but, after they had seized their horses and baggage, they took away their clothes, and left them naked.

In this condition, and after the thieves had left them, the prince said to the jeweller, What is to be done, my friend, in this conjuncture? Had I not better, think you, have tarried in Bagdad, and undergone any fate, rather than have been reduced to this extremity? My lord, replied the jeweller, it is the decree of Heaven that we should thus suffer. It has pleased God to add affliction to affliction, and we must not murmur at it, but receive his chastisements with submission. Let us stay no longer here, but go and look out for some place where we may be concealed and relieved.

No, let me rather die, said the prince; for what signifies it whether I die here or elsewhere? for die I know I must very shortly. It may be, this very minute that we are talking, Schemselnihar is no more! And why should I endeavour to live after she is dead? The jeweller at length prevailed on him to go; but they had not gone far before they came to a mosque, which, being open, they entered, and passed there the remainder of the night.

At day-break a single man came into the mosque to his devotion. When he had ended his prayer, and was turning to go out, he perceived the prince and the jeweller, who were sitting in a corner to conceal themselves. He went up to them; and, saluting them with a great deal of civility, said, By what I perceive, gentlemen, you seem to be strangers.

The jeweller answered, You are not deceived, sir. We have been robbed to-night in coming from Bagdad, and retired hither for shelter. If you can relieve us in our necessities, we shall he very much obliged to you, for we know nobody here to whom to apply to. The man answered, If you think fit to come to my house, I shall do what I can for you.

Upon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and said in his ear, This man, as far as I can perceive, sir, does not know us; therefore we had better go with him, than stay here to be exposed to the sight of somebody that may. Do as you please, said the prince; I am willing to be guided by your discretion.

The man, observing the prince and jeweller consulting together, thought they made some difficulty to accept his proposition; wherefore he demanded of them if they were resolved what to do. The jeweller answered, We are ready to follow you whither you please; all that we make a difficulty about is to appear thus naked.

Let not that trouble you, said the man; we shall find wherewithal to clothe you, I warrant you. They were no sooner got to the house, than he brought forth a very handsome suit for each of them. Next, as he thought they must be very hungry, and have a mind to go to bed, he had several plates of meat brought out to them by a slave; but they ate little, particularly the prince, who was so dejected and dispirited, as gave the jeweller cause to fear he would die. They went to bed, and their host left them to their repose; but they had no sooner lain down, than the jeweller was forced to call him again to assist at the death of the prince. He breathed short, and with difficulty; which gave him reason to fear he had but a few minutes to live. Coming near him, the prince said, It is done; and I am glad you are by, to be witness of my last words. I quit this life with a great deal of satisfaction; but I need not tell you the reason, for you know it too well already. All the regret I have is, that I cannot die in the arms of my dearest mother, who has always loved me with a tenderness not to be expressed, and for whom I had a reciprocal affection. She will undoubtedly be not a little grieved that she could not close my eyes, and bury me with her own hands. But let her know how much I was concerned at this; and desire her, in my name, to have my corpse transported to Bagdad, that she may have an opportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my departed soul with her prayers. He then took notice of the master of the house, thanked him for the several favours he had received from him, and desired him to let his body be deposited with him till such time as it should be carried away to Bagdad. Having said this, he turned aside and expired.

The day after the prince's death, the jeweller took the opportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and arrived there some time after in safety. He first went home to change his clothes, and then hastened to the prince's palace, where every body was surprised that their lord was not come with him. He desired them to acquaint the prince's mother that he must speak to her immediately; and it was not long before he was introduced to her. She was seated in a hall, with several of her women about her. Madam, said he to her, with an air that sufficiently denoted his ill news, God preserve your highness, and shower down the choicest of his blessings upon you! You cannot be ignorant that it is he alone who disposes of us all at his pleasure.

The princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas, you bring me the deplorable news of my son's death! At which words she and her women set up such a hideous outcry, as soon brought fresh tears into the jeweller's eyes. She thus tormented and grieved herself a long while before the unfortunate messenger was allowed to go on. At length, however, she gave a truce to her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue the fatal relation, without concealing from her the least circumstance. He did as she commanded; and, when he had done, she further demanded of him, if her son the prince had not given him in charge something more particular. He assured her his last words were, that it was the greatest concern to him that he must die so far distant from his dear mother, and that he earnestly entreated she would be pleased to have his corpse transported to Bagdad. Accordingly, next morning at day-break, the princess set out, with her women and great part of her slaves, to bring her son's body to her own palace.

The jeweller, having taken leave of her, returned home very sad and melancholy, to think he had lost so good a friend, and so accomplished a prince, in the flower of his age.

As he came near his house, dejected and musing, on a sudden lifting up his eyes, he saw a woman in mourning and tears standing before him. He presently knew her to be the confident, who had stood there grieving for some time that she could not see him. At the sight of her, his tears began to flow afresh, but he said nothing to her; and, going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down, when the jeweller, beginning the dismal discourse, asked the confident, with a deep sigh, if she had heard nothing of the death of the prince of Persia, or if it was on his account that she grieved? Alas! answered she; what! is that charming prince then, dead? He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar. Beauteous souls! continued she, in whatsoever place ye now are, ye ought to be pleased that your loves will no more be interrupted. Your bodies were before an obstacle to your wishes; but now, being delivered from them, you may unite as closely as you please.

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar's death, and had not observed that the confident was in mourning, through the excessive grief that blinded him, was now afflicted anew. Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he, in great astonishment. She is dead, replied the confident, weeping afresh; and it is for her that I wear these weeds. The circumstances of her death are extraordinary, continued she; therefore it is but requisite you should know them; but, before I give you an account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of Persia, whom, in conjunction with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.

The jeweller then gave the confident the satisfaction she desired; and, after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince's mother to bring her son's body to Bagdad, she began, and said, You have not forgotten, I suppose, that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace; and it is true, as we had all the reason in the world to believe, he had been informed of the amour between her and the prince by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart. Now, you will be apt to imagine he must of necessity be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar, and discover many tokens of jealousy and revenge against the prince; but I must tell you he had neither one nor the other, aud lamented only his dear mistress forsaking him, which he in some measure attributed to himself, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without his eunuchs. This was all the resentment he showed, as you will find by his carriage towards her.

He received her with an open countenance; and when he observed the sadness she was under, which nevertheless did not lessen her beauty, with a goodness peculiar to himself, he said, Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your appearing thus before me with an air of affliction. You must be sensible how much I have always loved you by the continual demonstrations I have given you; and I can never change my mind, for even now I love you more than ever. You have enemies, Schemselnihar, proceeded he; and those enemies have done you all the wrong they can. For this purpose they have filled my ears with stories against you, which have not made the least impression upon me. Shake off, then, this melancholy, continued he, and prepare to entertain your lord this night after your accustomed manner. He said many other obliging things to her, and then desired her to step into a magnificent apartment, and stay for him.

The afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the kindness the caliph had for her; but the more she thought herself obliged to him, the more she was concerned that she was so far off from the prince, without whom she could not live, and yet was afraid she should never see him more.

This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar, continued the confident, was whilst I came to speak with you; and I learned the particulars of it from my companions, who were present. But I had no sooner left you, proceeded she, than I went to my dear mistress again, and was an eye-witness to what happened afterwards. I found her in the apartment I told you of; and, as she thought I came from you, she came to me, and whispering in my ear, said, I am much obliged to you for the service you have been doing me, but fear it will be the last. I took no notice of her words, and she said no more to me; but if I had a mind to say any thing to comfort her, I was in a place by no means proper for disclosing my thoughts.

The caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments upon which our women played, and the collation was immediately served up. He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down with him on the sofa; which she did with such regret, that she expired some few minutes after. In short, she was hardly sat down, when she fell backwards; which the caliph believed to be only a swoon, and so we all thought; but when we endeavoured to bring her to herself, we found she was quite gone, which you may imagine not a little afflicted us.

The caliph did her the honour to weep over her, not being able to refrain from tears, and, before he left the room, ordered all the musical instruments to be broken, which was immediately executed. For my part, I staid with her corpse all night, and next morning bathed it with my tears, and dressed it for the funeral. The caliph had her interred soon after in a magnificent tomb he had erected for her in her lifetime, in a place she had desired to be buried in. Now, since you tell me, said she, the prince of Persia's body is to be brought to Bagdad, I will use my best endeavours that he shall be interred in the same tomb, which may be at least some satisfaction to two such faithful lovers.

The jeweller was somewhat surprised at this resolution of the confident's, and said, Certainly you do not consider that this enterprise is in a manner impossible, for the caliph will never suffer it. Do not you be concerned at that, replied she; for you will undoubtedly be of another opinion after I have told you that the caliph has given liberty to all her slaves in general, with a considerable pension to each for their subsistence; and as to me in particular, has honoured me with the charge of my mistress's tomb, and allotted me an annual income for my maintenance. Moreover, you must think that the caliph, who was not ignorant of the amour betweeen Schemselnihar and the prince, as I have already told you, will not be a whit concerned if now, after her death, he be buried with her. To all this the jeweller had not a word to say, yet earnestly entreated the confident to conduct him to her mistress's tomb, that he might say his prayers over her. When he came in sight of it, he was not a little surprised to find a vast number of people of both sexes, who were come thither from all parts of Bagdad. As he could not come near the tomb, he said his prayers at a distance; and then going to the confident, who waited hard by, he said to her, I am altogether of a contrary opinion to what I was just now; for now I am so far from thinking that what you proposed cannot be put in execution, that you and I need only tell abroad what we know of the amour of this unfortunate couple, and how the prince died much about the same time with his mistress, and is now bringing up to be buried; the people will bring the thing about, and not suffer that two such faithful lovers should be separated when dead, whom nothing could divide in affection whilst they lived. As he said, so it came to pass; for as soon as it came to be known that the corpse was within a day's journey of the city, the inhabitants almost of all sorts went forth, met it above twenty miles off, and marched before it, till it came to the city gate; where the confident, waiting for that purpose, presented herself before the prince's mother, and begged her, in the name of the whole city, that she would be pleased to consent that the bodies of the two lovers, who had but one heart whilst they lived, especially during their amour, might be buried in the same tomb now they were dead. The princess immediately consented; and the corpse of the prince, instead of being deposited in his own burying-place, was laid by Schemselnihar's side, after it had been carried in procession at the head of an infinite number of people, of all conditions and degrees: nay, from that very time, all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers, from such parts of the world as honoured the Mahometan religion, have had a mighty veneration for that tomb, and paid their devotion at it as often as opportunity would give them leave.

This, sir, said Scheherazade, who now perceived the day begin to approach, is what I had to relate to your majesty concerning the amour of the fair Schemselnihar, mistress to the caliph Haroun Alraschid, and the worthy Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia.

When Dinarzade observed that her sister the sultaness had done speaking, she thanked her in the most obliging manner for her entertainment in a history so exceedingly agreeable.

If the sultan will be pleased to let me live till to-morrow, said Scheherazade, I will also relate that of prince Camaralzaman [Footnote: This word, in Arabic, signifies the Moon of the Time, or the Moon of the Age.], which you will find yet more agreeable. Here she stopped; and the sultan, who could not yet resolve on her death, permitted her to go on next night in the following manner.

THE STORY OF THE AMOURS OF CAMARALZAMAN, PRINCE OF THE ISLES of THE CHILDREN OF KHALEDAN; AND OF BADOURA, PRINCESS OF CHINA.

About twenty days sail on the coast of Persia, there are islands in the main ocean, called the islands of the Children of Khaledan; these islands are divided into four great provinces, which have all of them very flourishing and populous cities, and which make together a most potent kingdom. It is governed by a king named Schahzaman [Footnote: That is to say, in Persic, King of the Time, or King of the Age.], who has four lawful wives, all daughters of kings, and sixty concubines.

Schahzaman thought himself the most happy monarch of the world, as well on account of his peaceful as prosperous reign. One thing only disturbed his happiness, which was, that he was pretty old, and had no children, though he had so many wives. He knew not what to attribute this barrenness to; and what increased his affliction was, that he was likely to leave his kingdom without a successor. He dissembled his discontent a long while; and, what was yet more uneasy to him, he was constrained to dissemble. At length, however, he broke silence; and one day, after he had complained bitterly of his misfortune to his grand vizier, he demanded of him if he knew any remedy for it.

That wise minister replied, If what your majesty requires of me had depended on the ordinary methods of human wisdom, you had soon had an answer to your satisfaction; but, as my experience and knowledge are not sufficient to content you, I must advise you to have recourse to the Divine Power alone, who, in the midst of our prosperities, which often tempt us to forget him, is pleased so to limit our discernment, that we may apply only to his omniscience for what we have occasion to know. Your majesty has subjects, proceeded he, who make a profession of loving and honouring God, and suffering great hardships for his sake; to them I would advise you to have recourse, and engage them by alms to join their prayers with yours; it may be, some among them may be so just and agreeable to God as to obtain what they pray for.

King Schahzaman approved of this advice very much, and thanked his vizier for it: he immediately caused rich alms to be given to every monastery in his dominions; and having sent for the superiors, declared to them his intention, and desired them to acquaint their monks with it.

The king, in short, obtained of Heaven what he requested; for in nine months time he had a son born of one of his wives. In return for this favour, he sent new alms to the religious houses; and the prince's birth-day was celebrated throughout his dominions for a week together. The prince was brought to him as soon as born; and he found him so beautiful, that he gave him the name of Camaralzaman; that is, the Moon of the Age.

He was educated with all the care imaginable; and when he came to be old enough, his father appointed him a governor and able preceptors. These distinguished persons found him capable of receiving all the instructions that were proper to be given him, as well in relation to morals, as to other knowledge a prince ought to have. When he came to be somewhat older, he learned all his exercises; of which he acquitted himself with so much grace and wonderful address, that he charmed all who saw him, and particularly the sultan his father.

Having attained the age of fifteen years, the sultan, who loved him tenderly, thought of resigning his throne to him, and acquainted his grand vizier with his intentions. I am afraid, said he, lest my son should lose those advantages in youth which nature and education have given him; therefore, since I am somewhat advanced in age, and fit for a retreat, I have had thoughts of resigning the government to him, and passing the remainder of my days in the satisfaction of seeing him reign. I have undergone the fatigue of a crown a long while, and think it is now proper for me to retire.

The grand vizier would not offer all the reasons he could have brought to dissuade the sultan from such a proceeding; on the contrary, he agreed with him in some measure. Sir, replied he, the prince is yet but young; and it would not, in my humble opinion, be wholly advisable to burden him with the weight of a crown so soon. Your majesty fears, with a great deal of reason, that his youth may be corrupted; but then, to remedy that, does not your majesty likewise think it would be proper to marry him, marriage being what would keep him within bounds, and confine his inclinations? Moreover, your majesty might then admit him of your council, where he would learn by degrees the art of reigning, and consequently be fit to receive your power, whenever you shall think proper to bestow it on him.

Schahzaman found this advice of his prime minister highly reasonable, and therefore summoned the prince to appear before him, dismissing the grand vizier at the same time.

The prince, who had been accustomed to see his father only at certain times, was a little startled at this irregular summons; therefore, when he came before him, he saluted him with great respect, and afterwards stood still, with his eyes fixed on the ground.

The sultan, perceiving his surprise, said to him in a mild way, Do you know, son, for what reason I have sent for you hither? No, may it please your majesty, answered the prince, modestly: God alone knows how to penetrate hearts. I should be glad to know of your majesty for what reason? Why, I sent for you, said the sultan, to let you know that I design to marry you: what do you think of it?

Prince Camaralzaman heard this with great uneasiness; it quite surprised him; he was all in a sweat, and knew not what answer to make. After a few moments, however, he replied, Sir, I beseech your majesty to pardon me, if I seem surprised at the declaration you have made. I did not expect any such proposal to one so young as I am; and besides, I know not whether I could ever prevail on myself to marry, not only on account of the trouble wives bring a man, and which I am very sensible of, though unmarried, but also by reason of their many impostures, wickednesses, and treacheries, which I have read of in authors. It may be, I may not be always of the same mind; yet I cannot but think I ought to have time to conclude on what your majesty requires of me.

Prince Camaralzaman's answer extremely afflicted his father; he was not a little grieved to see what an aversion he had to marriage, yet would not call his obedience in question, nor make use of his paternal authority: he contented himself with telling him that he would not force his inclinations, and gave him time to consider of what he had proposed to him; yet wished him to remember, that, as a prince designed to govern a great kingdom, he ought to take some care to leave behind him a successor.

Schahzaman said no more to the prince: he admitted him into his council, and gave him all the reason to be satisfied that could be desired. About a year after, he took him aside, and said to him, Well, son, have you thoroughly considered of what I proposed to you last year about marrying? Will you still refuse me the satisfaction I desire, and let me die without seeing myself revive in your posterity?

The prince seemed less astonished than before; he now briskly answered his father as follows: Sir, I have not neglected to consider of what you proposed, and, upon the whole matter, I am resolved to continue in the state I am, without concerning myself with marriage, In short, sir, the many evils I have read that women have caused in the world, and the continual mischiefs I still hear and observe they do, have been the occasion of my resolution to have nothing to do with them; so that, sir, I hope your majesty will pardon me if I acquaint you, that it will be to no purpose to solicit me any further about that affair. This said, and making a low reverence, he went out briskly, without staying to hear what the sultan would answer.

Now, any monarch but Schahzaman would have been in a violent passion at such deportment of a son; but he took little notice of it, resolving to use all gentle methods before he proceeded to force. He communicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister. I have followed your advice, said he, but Camaralzaman is further off than ever from complying with my desires. He delivered his resolution in such arrogant terms, that I had all the occasion in the world for my reason and moderation to keep me from being in a passion. Fathers who desire favours of their children, which they nevertheless can command, have themselves alone to blame if they are disobeyed. But tell me, I beseech you, how I shall reclaim this hardy young prince, who proves so rebellious to my pleasure.

Sir, answered the grand vizier, patience brings many things about which before seemed impracticable; but it may be that this affair is of a nature not likely to succeed in that way. However, in my judgment, your majesty would do well to give the prince another year to consider of the matter; and if, when this is expired, he still continues averse to your proposal, then your majesty may propose it to him in full council, as a thing that is highly necessary for the common good; it is not likely that he will refuse to comply with it before so grave an assembly, and on so necessary an account, whatever he has done before.

The sultan, who passionately desired to see his son married, thought this long delay an age; however, though with much difficulty, he at length yielded to his grand vizier's reasons, which he could no way disapprove.

After the grand vizier was gone, sultan Schahzaman went to the apartment of the mother of prince Camaralzaman, to whom he had often discovered what an ardent desire he had to marry the prince. When he had told her, with tears in his eyes, how his son had refused to comply a second time, and that nevertheless, through the advice of his grand vizer, he was induced to wait yet a longer time for his compliance, he said, Madam, I know he will hearken more to you than me, therefore I desire you would take your time to speak to him seriously of the matter, and to let him know that, if he persists much longer in his obstinacy, he will oblige me to have recourse to extremities that may not be pleasing to him, and which may give him cause to repent of having disobeyed me.

Fatima, for so was the lady called, acquainted the prince, the first time she saw him, that she had been informed of his second refusal to be married, and how much chagrin he had occasioned his father on that account. Madam, said the prince, I beseech you not to renew my grief upon that head; for, if you do, I have reason to fear, in the disquiet I am under, that something may escape me which may not altogether correspond with the respect I owe you. Fatima knew, by this answer, that it was not then a proper time to speak to him; therefore deferred what she had to say till another opportunity.

Some considerable time after, Fatima thought she had met with a more favourable occasion, which gave her hopes of being heard upon the subject; she therefore accosted him with all the eagerness imaginable: Son, said she, I beg of you, if it be not very irksome to you, to tell me what reason you have for your so great aversion to marriage? If you have no other than the badness and wickedness of some women, there can be nothing less reasonable, or more weak. I will not undertake the defence of those who are bad, there are a great number of them undoubtedly; but it would be the greatest injustice imaginable to condemn all the sex for their sakes. Alas, son! you have met with a great many bad women in your books, who have occasioned great disorders, and I will not excuse them; but you do not consider how many monarchs, sultans, and other princes, there have been in the world, whose tyrannies, barbarities, and cruelties, astonished those who read of them, and which I have myself. Now, for one woman who is thus wicked, you will meet with a thousand of these tyrants and barbarians; and what torment, do you think, must a good woman undergo, for such there are, who is united to one of these wretches?

Madam, replied Camaralzaman, I doubt not but there is a great number of wise, virtuous, good, affable, and generous women, in the world; and would to God they all resembled you! But what pierces me, is the doubtful choice a man is obliged to make; and oftentimes one has not even that liberty.

Let us suppose, then, Madam, continued he, that I had a mind to marry, as the sultan my father so earnestly desires I should; what wife, think you, would he be likely to provide for me? Probably a princess, whom he would demand of some neighbouring prince, and who would think it an honour done him to send her to him. Fair or ugly, good or ill-humoured, she must be accepted; nay, suppose no other princess excelled her in beauty, yet who can be certain that her temper would be of equal goodness; that she would be affable, complaisant, entertaining, obliging, and the like; that her discourse would generally run on solid matters, and not on trifles, such as dress, adjustments, ornaments, and the like fooleries, which would disgust any man of sense? In a word, that she would not be haughty, proud, arrogant, impertinent, scornful, and waste a man's estate in frivolous expences, such as gaudy clothes, unnecessary jewels, toys, and the like long train of magnificent follies.

Thus you see, madam, continued he, how many reasons a man may have to be disgusted at marriage. Well, but to go further: let this princess be ever so perfect, accomplished, and irreproachable, I have yet a great many more reasons not to desist from my sentiment, or depart from my resolution.

What, son, replied Fatima; have you then more reasons than those you have already advanced? I do not doubt but that I shall find wherewithal to answer them, and stop your mouth with a word. Very well, madam, replied the prince; and perhaps I may find wherewithal to reply to your answer.

I mean, son, said Fatima, that it is easy for a prince, who has had the misfortune to marry such a wife as you describe, to get rid of her, and take such care that she may not prejudice his estate. Ah, but, madam, replied the prince, you do not consider what a mortification it would be to a person of so great quality to be obliged to come to an extremity of that nature. Would it not have been better, think you, and much more for his honour and quiet, that he had never run such a risk?

But, son, said Fatima once more, after the manner you understand things, I apprehend you have a mind to be the last king of your race, who have nevertheless reigned so long and gloriously in the isles of the Children of Khaledan.

Madam, replied the prince, for my part I do not desire to survive the king my father; and if I should die before him, it would be no great matter of wonder, since so many children have died before their parents. But as for my leaving no successor, I am of opinion it is much better to be the last of one's race, than father to a bad prince, or husband to a bad wife.

From that time Fatima had frequent conferences with her son the prince on the same subject, and omitted no opportunity or argument to endeavour rooting out his aversion to the fair sex; but he eluded all her reasonings by such as she could not well answer, and continued in the same mind.

The year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, prince Camaralzaman gave not the least proof of having changed his sentiments; so that one day, when there was a great council held, the prime vizier and other viziers, the principal officers of the crown, and the generals of the army, being present, the sultan spoke thus to the prince: Son, it is now a long while since I have earnestly desired to see you married; and I imagined you would have had more complaisance for a father, who required nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long. But, after so great resistance on your part, which has almost worn out my patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once more to you in presence of my council. Now I would have you to consider, that the favour I desire is not only to oblige me, but to comply with the earnest request of the estates of my dominions, who, for the common good of us all, in conjunction with me, require it of you. Declare then, before these lords present, whether you will marry or not; that, according to your answer, I may proceed, and take those measures which I ought.

The prince answered with so little temper, or rather with so much heat, that the sultan, enraged to see himself affronted in full council, cried out, How, unnatural son! have you the insolence to talk thus to your father and sultan? Ho! guards, take him away! At these words he was seized by the eunuchs, and carried to an old tower that had been uninhabited a long while; where he was shut up, with only a bed, a few moveables, some books, and one slave only to attend him.

Camaralzaman, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased that he had the freedom to converse with books, which made him look on his confinement with some indifference. In the evening he bathed, and said his prayers; and, after having read some chapters in the alcoran with the same tranquillity of mind as if he had been in the sultan's palace, undressed himself, and went to bed, leaving his lamp burning by him all the while he slept.

In this tower was a well, which served for a retreat to a certain fairy named Maimoune, daughter of Damriel, king or head of a legion of genii. It was about midnight when this Maimoune came forth silently, to wander about the world after her wonted custom. She was surprised to see a light in prince Camaralzaman's chamber. She entered it; and, without stopping at the slave who lay at the door, approached the bed, whose magnificence, though very great, she did not so much wonder at, as that there should be a man in it.

Prince Camaralzaman had but half covered his face with the bed-clothes, by which Maimoune could perceive that he was the finest young man she had seen in all her rambles through the world. What beauty, or rather what prodigy of beauty, said she within herself, will this youth appear, when his so well formed eye-lids shall be open? What crime can he have committed, to deserve this rigorous treatment?

She could not forbear admiring the prince, till at length, having kissed him gently on both cheeks, and in the middle of the forehead, without waking him, she laid the bed-clothes in the order they were in before, and took her flight into the air. As she mounted to the middle region, she heard a great clapping of wings, which induced her to fly towards that side; and, when she approached, she saw the genius that made the noise, but he was one of those who are rebellious to God. As for Maimoune, she belonged to that class whom the great Solomon forced to conform.

This genius, whose name was Danhasch, the son of Schamhourasch, knew Maimoune; but did not dare to take notice of her, being sensible how much power she had over him, by her submission to the Almighty. He would have avoided her, but she was so near him, that he must either fight or yield.

Brave Maimoune, said Danhasch, in the tone of a supplicant, swear to me, in the name of the Great Power, that you will not hurt me; and I swear also, on my part, not to do you any harm?

Cursed genius! replied Maimoune, what hurt canst thou do me? I fear thee not; but as thou hast desired this favour of me, I swear not to do thee any harm. Tell me, then, wandering spirit, whence thou comest, what thou hast seen, and what mischief thou hast done this night? Fair lady, answered Danhasch, you meet me in a good time to hear something that is very wonderful.