While the prince was beginning another year of labour, sorrow, and impatience, the ship having a fair wind, continued her voyage to the isle of Ebene, and happily arrived at the capital.

The palace being by the sea side, the new king, or rather the princess Badoura, espying the ship as she was entering into the port, with all her flags, asked what vessel it was: she was answered, that it came annually from the city of the idolaters, and was generally richly laden.

The princess, who always had Kummir al Zummaun in her mind, imagined that the prince might be aboard; and resolved to visit the ship and meet him, without discovering herself; but to observe him, and take proper measures for their making themselves mutually known. Under pretence of inquiring what merchandize was on board, and having the first sight of the goods, she commanded a horse to be brought, which she mounted, accompanied by several officers in waiting, and arrived at the port, just as the captain came ashore. She ordered him to be brought before her, asked whence he had come, how long he had been on his voyage, and what good or bad fortune he had met with: if he had no stranger of quality aboard, and particularly with what his ship was laden.

The captain gave a satisfactory answer to all her demands; and as to passengers, assured her there were none but merchants in his ship, who used to come every year, and bring rich stuffs from several parts of the world to trade with, the finest linens painted and plain, diamonds, musk, ambergris, camphire, civet, spices, drugs, olives, and many other articles.

The princess Badoura loved olives extremely when she heard the captain speak of them, "Land them," said she, "I will take them off your hands; as to the other goods, tell the merchants to bring them to me, and let me see them before they dispose of, or shew them to any one."

The captain taking her for the king of the isle of Ebene, replied, "Sire, there are fifty great jars of olives, but they belong to a merchant whom I was forced to leave behind. I gave him notice myself that I stayed for him, and waited a long time, but he not coming, and the wind offering, I was afraid of losing the opportunity, and so set sail." The princess answered, "No matter, bring them ashore; we will nevertheless make a bargain for them."

The captain sent the boat, which in a little time returned with the olives. The princess demanded how much the fifty jars might be worth in the isle of Ebene? "Sir," replied the captain, "the merchant is very poor, and your majesty will do him a singular favour if you give him one thousand pieces of silver."

"To satisfy him," said the princess, "and because you tell me he is poor, I will order you one thousand pieces of gold for him, which do you take care to give him." The money was accordingly paid, and the jars carried to the palace.

Night drawing on the princess withdrew into the inner palace, and went to the princess Haiatalnefous's apartment, ordering the olives to be brought thither. She opened one jar to let the princess Haiatalnefous taste them, and poured them into a dish. Great was her astonishment, when she found the olives were mingled with gold-dust. "What can this mean!" said she, "It is wonderful beyond comprehension." Her curiosity increasing from so extraordinary an adventure, she ordered Haiatalnefous's women to open and empty all the jars in her presence; and her wonder was still greater, when she saw that the olives in all of them were mixed with gold-dust; but when she saw her talisman drop out, she was so surprised that she fainted away. Haiatalnefous and her women brought the princess to herself, by throwing cold water in her face. When she recovered, she took the talisman, and kissed it again and again; but not being willing that the princess Haiatalnefous's women, who were ignorant of her disguise, should hear what she said, and it growing late, she dismissed them. "Princess," said she to Haiatalnefous, as soon as they were gone, "you who have heard my story, doubtless, guessed it was at the sight of the talisman that I fainted. This is that talisman, and the fatal cause of my dosing my husband; but as it was that which caused our separation, so I foresee it will be the means of our meeting."

The next day, as soon as it was light, she sent for the captain of the ship; and when he came, spoke to him thus: "I want to know something more of the merchant to whom the olives belong, that I bought of you yesterday. I think you told me you left him behind in the city of the idolaters; can you tell me what is his employment there?"

"Yes," replied the captain, "I can speak from my own knowledge. I agreed for his passage with a very old gardener, who told me I should find him in his garden, where he worked under him. He shewed me the place, and for that reason I told your majesty he was poor. I went thither to call him. I told him what haste I was in, spoke to him myself in the garden, and cannot be mistaken in the man."

"If what you say is true," replied the princess, "you must set sail this very day for the city of idolaters, and bring me that gardener's man, who is my debtor; else I will not only confiscate all your goods and those of your merchants, but your life and theirs shall answer for his. I have ordered my seal to be put on the warehouses where their goods are deposited, which shall not be taken off till your return: this is all I have to say to you; go and do as I command you."

The captain could make no reply to this order, the disobeying of which must have proved of such loss to him and his merchants. He acquainted them with it; and they hastened him away as fast as they could, after he had laid in a stock of provisions and fresh water for his voyage.

They were so diligent, that he set sail the same day. He had a prosperous voyage to the city of the idolaters, where he arrived in the night. When he was got as near the city as he thought convenient, he would not cast anchor, but lay to off shore; and going into his boat, with six of his stoutest seamen, landed a little way off the port, whence he went directly to the garden of Kummir al Zummaun.

Though it was about midnight when he came there, the prince was not asleep. His separation from the fair princess of China his wife afflicted him as usual. He cursed the minute in which his curiosity tempted him to touch the fatal girdle.

Thus was he passing those hours which are devoted to rest, when he heard somebody knock at the garden-door: he ran hastily to it; but he had no sooner opened it than the captain and his seamen took hold of him, and carried him to the boat, and so on ship-board. As soon as he was safely lodged, they set sail, and made the best of their way to the isle of Ebene.

Hitherto Kummir al Zummaun, the captain, and his men, had not said a word to one another; at last the prince asked the captain, whom he knew again, why they had taken him away by force? The captain in his turn demanded of the prince, whether he was not a debtor of the king of Ebene? "I the king of Ebene's debtor!" replied the prince in amazement; "I do not know him, and have never set foot in his kingdom." The captain answered, "You should know that better than I; you will talk to him yourself in a little while; till then stay here and have patience."

The captain was not long on his voyage back to the isle of Ebene. Though it was night when he cast anchor in the port, he landed immediately, and taking his prisoner with him, hastened to the palace, where he demanded to be introduced to the king.

The princess Badoura had withdrawn into the inner palace, but as soon as she heard of the captain's return, she came out to speak to him. Immediately as she cast her eyes on the prince, for whom she had shed so many tears, she recognized him in his gardener's habit. As for the prince, who trembled in the presence of a king, as he thought her, to whom he was to answer for an imaginary debt, it could not enter into his thoughts, that the person whom he so earnestly desired to see stood before him. If the princess had followed the dictates of her inclination, she would have run to him, and, by embracing, discovered herself to him; but she put a constraint on herself, believing that it was for the interest of both that she should act the king a little longer before she made herself known. She contented herself for the present to put him into the hands of an officer, who was then in waiting, charging him to take care of him, and use him well, till the next day.

When the princess Badoura had provided for Kummir al Zummaun, she turned to the captain, whom she was now to reward for the important service he had done her. She commanded another officer to go immediately to take the seal off the warehouse which contained his goods, and gave him a rich diamond, worth much more than the expense he had been at in both his voyages. She also bade him keep the thousand pieces of gold she had given for the olives, telling him she would make up the account with the merchant whom he had brought with him.

This done, she returned to the princess of the isle of Ebene's apartment, to whom she communicated her joy, praying her to keep the secret still. She told how she intended to manage the discovering of herself to Kummir al Zummaun, and resignation of the kingdom to him; adding, there was so vast a distance between a gardener, as he would appear to the public, and a great prince, that it might be dangerous to raise him at once from the lowest condition of the people to the highest honour, however justice might require it should be done. The princess of the isle of Ebene was so far from betraying her, that she rejoiced with her, and entered into the design.

The next morning the princess of China ordered Kummir al Zummaun to be conducted early to the bath, and then to be appareled in the robes of an emir or governor of a province. She commanded him to be introduced into the council, where his fine person and majestic air drew upon him the eyes of all the lords present.

The princess Badoura herself was charmed to see him look as lovely as ever, and her pleasure inspired her to speak the more warmly in his praise. When she spoke to the council, having ordered the prince to take his seat among the emirs, she addressed them thus: "My lords, Kummir al Zummaun, whom I have advanced to the same dignity with yourselves, is not unworthy of the place assigned him. I have known enough of him in my travels to answer for him, and I can assure you he will make his merit known to all of you, as well by his velour, as by a thousand other brilliant qualities, and the extent of his genius."

The prince was extremely amazed to hear the king of the isle of Ebene, whom he was far from taking for a woman, much less for his dear princess, name him, and declare that he knew him, while he thought himself certain he had never seen him before. He was much more surprised when he heard him praise him so highly. Those praises however from the mouth of majesty did not disconcert him, though he received them with such modesty, as shewed that he deserved them. He prostrated himself before the throne of the king, and rising again, said, "Sire, I want words to express my gratitude to your majesty for the honour you have done me; I shall do all in my power to render myself worthy of your royal favour."

From the council-board the prince was conducted to a palace, which the princess Badoura had ordered to be fitted up for him; where he found officers and domestics ready to obey his commands, a stable full of fine horses, and every thing suitable to the quality of an emir. When he was in his closet, the steward of his household brought him a strong box full of gold for his expenses.

The less he could conceive whence his happiness proceeded, the more he wondered, but he never once imagined that he owed it to the princess of China.

Two or three days after, the princess Badoura, that he might be nearer her person and in a more distinguished post, made him high treasurer, which office had lately become vacant. He conducted himself in his new charge with so much integrity, yet obliging every body, that he not only gained the friendship of the great, but also the affections of the people, by his uprightness and bounty.

Kummir al Zummaun had been the happiest man in the world, to see himself in so high favour with a foreign king as he conceived, and increasing in the esteem of all his subjects, if he had had his princess with him. In the midst of his good fortune he never ceased lamenting her, and grieved that he could hear no tidings of her, especially in a country which she must necessarily have visited in her way to his father's court after their separation. He would have mistrusted something, had the princess still gone by the name of Kummir al Zummaun, which she took with his habit; but on her accession to the throne, she had changed it, and taken that of Armanos, in honour of the old king her father-in-law.

The princess desiring that her husband should owe the discovery of her to herself alone, resolved to put an end to her own torments and his; for she had observed, that as often as she discoursed with him about the affairs of office, he heaved such deep sighs, as could be addressed to nobody but her. While she herself lived in such a constraint, that she could endure it no longer.

The princess Badoura had no sooner formed her resolution in concert with the princess Haiatalnefous, than she the same day took Kummir al Zummaun aside, saying, "I must talk with you about an affair which requires much consideration, and on which I want your advice. As I do not see how it can be done so conveniently as in the night, come hither in the evening, and leave word at home not to be waited for; I will take care to provide you a lodging."

Kummir al Zummaun came punctually to the palace at the hour appointed by the princess; she took him with her into the inner apartment, and having told the chief eunuch, who prepared to follow her, that she had no occasion for his service, conducted him into a different apartment from that of the princess Haiatalnefous, where she used to sleep.

When the prince and princess entered the chamber, she shut the door, and taking the talisman out of a little box, gave it to Kummir al Zummaun, saying, "It is not long since an astrologer presented me with this talisman; you being skilful in all things, may perhaps tell me its use."

Kummir al Zummaun took the talisman, and drew near a lamp to view it. As soon as he recollected it, with an astonishment which gave the princess great pleasure, "Sire," said he to the prince, "your majesty asked me the use of this talisman. Alas! its only purpose is to kill me with grief and despair, if I do not quickly find the most charming and lovely princess in the world to whom it belonged, whose loss it occasioned me by a strange adventure, the recital of which will move your majesty to pity such an unfortunate husband and lover as I am."

"You shall tell me the particulars another time," replied the princess; "I know something of them already: remain here a little, and I will soon return to you."

At these words she went into her closet, put off her royal turban, and in a few minutes dressed herself in her female attire; and having the girdle round her, which she had on the day of their separation, re-entered the chamber.

Kummir al Zummaun immediately recognized his dear princess, ran to her, and tenderly embraced her, exclaiming, "How much am I obliged to the king who has so agreeably surprised me!" "Do not expect to see the king any more," replied the princess, embracing him in her turn, with tears in her eyes: "you see him in me; sit down, and I will explain this enigma to you."

They seated themselves, and the princess related the plan she had formed in the plain where they were encamped the last time they were together, as soon as she perceived she waited for him to no purpose; how she went through with it till she arrived at the isle of Ebene, where she had been obliged to marry the princess Haiatalnefous, and accept of the crown, which king Armanos offered her as a condition of the marriage: how the princess, whose merit she highly extolled, had obliged her to make declaration of her sex: and how she found the talisman in the pots of olives mingled with the gold-dust, which she had bought, and how this circumstance had proved the cause of her sending for him from the city of the idolaters.

When she had concluded her adventure, she obliged the prince to tell her by what means the talisman had occasioned their separation. He satisfied her inquiries; after which, it growing late, they retired to rest.

The princess Badoura and Kummir al Zummaun rose next morning as soon as it was light, but the princess would no more put on her royal robes as king; she dressed herself in her female attire, and then sent the chief eunuch to king Armanos, her father-in-law, to desire he would oblige her by coming to her apartment.

When the king entered the chamber, he was amazed at seeing a lady who was unknown to him, and the high treasurer with her, who was not by etiquette permitted to come within the inner palace. He sat down, and asked where the king was.

The princess answered, "Yesterday I was king, but to-day I am only princess of China, wife to the true prince Kummir al Zummaun. If your majesty will have patience to hear our adventures, I hope you will not condemn me for putting an innocent deceit upon you." The king bade her go on, and heard her narrative from beginning to end with astonishment. The princess on finishing said to him, "Sir, though women do not easily comply with the liberty assumed by men to have several wives; yet if your majesty will consent to give your daughter the princess Haiatalnefous in marriage to the prince, I will with all my heart yield up to her the rank and quality of queen, which of right belongs to her, and content myself with the second place. If this precedence were not her due, I would resign it to her, after the obligation I have to her for keeping my secret so generously. If your majesty refer it to her consent, I am sure of that, having already consulted her; and I will pass my word that she will be very well satisfied."

King Armanos listened to the princess with astonishment, and when she had done, turned to Kummir al Zummaun, saying, "Son, since the princess Badoura your wife, whom I have all along thought to be my son-in-law, through a deceit of which I cannot complain, assures me, that she will divide your bed with my daughter; I would know if you are willing to marry her, and accept of the crown, which the princess Badoura would deservedly wear, if she did not quit it out of love to you." "Sir," replied Kummir al Zummaun, "though I desire nothing so earnestly as to see the king my father, yet the obligations I have to your majesty and the princess Haiatalnefous are so weighty, I can refuse her nothing." The prince was then proclaimed king, and married the same day with all possible demonstrations of joy; and had every reason to be well pleased with the princess Haiatalnefous's beauty, wit, and love for him.

The two queens lived together afterwards on the same friendly terms and in the same cordiality as they had done before, both being contented with Kummir al Zummaun's equal carriage towards them.

The next year each brought him a son at the same time, and the births of the two princes were celebrated with extraordinary rejoicings: the first, whom the princess Badoura was delivered of, was named Amgiad (most illustrious); and the other, born of queen Haiatalnefous, Assad (most virtuous).



The Story of the Princes Amgiad and Assad.



The two princes were brought up with great care; and, when they were old enough, had the same governor, the same instructors in the arts and sciences, and the same master for each exercise. The affection which from their infancy they conceived for each other occasioned an uniformity of manners and inclination, which increased it. When they were of an age to have separate households, they loved one another so tenderly, that they begged the king to let them live together. He consented, and they had the same domestics, the same equipages, the same apartment, and the same table. Kummir al Zummaun had formed so good an opinion of their capacity and integrity, that he made no scruple of admitting them into his council at the age of eighteen, and letting them, by turns, preside there, while he took the diversion of hunting, or amused himself with his queens at his houses of pleasure.

The princes being equally handsome, the two queens loved them with incredible tenderness; but the princess Badoura had a greater kindness for prince Assad, queen Haiatalnefous's son, than for her own; and queen Haiatalnefous loved Amgiad, the princess Badoura's son, better than her own son Assad.

The two queens thought at first this inclination was nothing but a regard which proceeded from an excess of their own friendship for each other, which they still preserved: but as the two princes advanced in years, that friendship grew into a violent love, when they appeared in their eyes to possess graces that blinded their reason. They knew how criminal their passion was, and did all they could to resist it; but the familiar intercourse with them, and the habit of admiring, praising, and caressing them from their infancy, which they could not restrain when they grew up, inflamed their desires to such a height as to overcome their reason and virtue. It was their and the princes' ill-fortune, that the latter being used to be so treated by them, had not the least suspicion of their infamous passion.

The two queens had not concealed from each other this passion, but had not the boldness to declare it to the princes they loved; they at last resolved to do it by a letter, and to execute their wicked design, availed themselves of the king's absence, when he was gone on a hunting party for three or four days.

Prince Amgiad presided at the council on the day of his father's departure, and administered justice till two or three o'clock in the afternoon. As he returned to the palace from the council-chamber, an eunuch took him aside, and gave him a letter from queen Haiatalnefous. Amgiad took it, and read it with horror. "Traitor," said he, to the eunuch as soon as he had perused it through, "is this the fidelity thou owest thy master and thy king?" At these words he drew his sabre and cut off his head.

Having done this in a transport of anger he ran to the princess Badoura his mother, shewed her the letter, told her the contents of it, and from whom it came. Instead of hearkening to him, she fell into a passion, and said, "Son, it is all a calumny and imposture; queen Haiatalnefous is a very discreet princess, and you are very bold to talk to me against her." The prince, enraged at his mother, exclaimed, "You are both equally wicked, and were it not for the respect I owe my father, this day should have been the last of Haiatalnefous's life."

Queen Badoura might have imagined by the example of her son Amgiad, that prince Assad, who was not less virtuous, would not receive more favourably a declaration of love, similar to that which had been made to his brother. Yet that did not hinder her persisting in her abominable design; she, the next day, wrote him a letter, which she entrusted to an old woman who had access to the palace, to convey to him.

The old woman watched her opportunity to put it into his hands as he was coming from the council-chamber, where he presided that day in his turn. The prince took it, and reading it, fell into such a rage, that, without giving himself time to finish it, he drew his sabre and punished the old woman as she deserved. He ran immediately to the apartment of his mother queen Haiatalnefous, with the letter in his hand: he would have shewn it to her, but she did not give him time, crying out, "I know what you mean; you are as impertinent as your brother Amgiad: be gone, and never come into my presence again."

Assad stood as one thunder-struck at these words, so little expected. He was so enraged, that he had like to have given fatal demonstrations of his anger; but he contained himself, and withdrew without making any reply, fearing if he stayed he might say something unworthy the greatness of his soul. Amgiad had not mentioned to him the letter which he had received the preceding day; and finding by what his mother had said to him that she was altogether as criminal as queen Haiatalnefous, he went to his brother, to chide him for not communicating the hated secret to him, and to mingle his own sorrow with his.

The two queens, rendered desperate by finding in the two princes such virtue as should have made them look inwardly on themselves, renounced all sentiments of nature and of mothers and conspired together to destroy them. They made their women believe the two princes had attempted their virtue: they counterfeited the matter to the life by their tears, cries, and curses; and lay in the same bed, as if the resistance they pretended to have made had reduced them almost to death's-door.

When Kummir al Zummaun returned to the palace from hunting, he was much surprised to find them in bed together, in tears, acting despondency so well, that he was touched with compassion. He asked them with earnestness what had happened to them.

At this question, the dissembling queens wept and sobbed more bitterly than before; and after he had pressed them again and again to tell him, queen Badoura at last answered him: "Sir, our grief is so well founded, that we ought not to see the light of the sun, or live a day, after the violence that has been offered us by the unparalleled brutality of the princes your sons. They formed a horrid design, encouraged by your absence, and had the boldness and insolence to attempt our honour. Your majesty will excuse us from saying any more; you may guess the rest by our affliction."

The king sent for the two princes, and would have killed them both with his own hand, had not old king Armanos his father-in-law, who was present, held his hand: "Son," said he, "what are you going to do? Will you stain your hands and your palace with your own blood? There are other ways of punishing them, if they are really guilty."

He endeavoured thus to appease him, and desired him to examine whether they did indeed commit the crime of which they were accused.

It was no difficult matter for Kummir al Zummaun to restrain himself so far as not to butcher his own children. He ordered them to be put under arrest, and sent for an emir called Jehaun-dar, whom he commanded to conduct them out of the city, and put them to death, at a great distance, and in what place he pleased, but not to see him again, unless he brought their clothes with him, as a token of his having executed his orders.

Jehaun-dar travelled with them all night, and early next morning made them alight, telling them, with tears in his eyes, the commands he had received. "Believe me, princes," said he, "it is a trying duty imposed on me by your father, to execute this cruel order: would to heaven I could avoid it!" The princes replied, "Do your duty; we know well you are not the cause of our death, and forgive you with all our hearts."

They then embraced, and bade each other a last adieu with so much tenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one another's arms. Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself for the fatal stroke. "Begin with me," said he "that I may not have the affliction to see my dear brother Amgiad die." To this Amgiad objected; and Jehaun-dar could not, without weeping more than before, be witness of this dispute between them; which shewed how perfect and sincere was their affection.

At last they determined the contest, by desiring Jehaun-dar to tie them together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him to give them the fatal stroke at one blow. "Do not refuse the comfort of dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth have shared every thing, even their innocence," said the generous princes.

Jehaun-dar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to breast; and when he had placed them so that he thought he might strike the blow with more certainty, asked them if they had any thing to command him before they died.

"We have only one thing to desire of you," replied the princes, "which is, to assure the king our father on your return, that we are innocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he is not well informed of the truth of the crime of which we are accused."

Jehaun-dar promised to do what they desired and drew his sabre, when his horse, being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the sabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran away into the country.

He was a very valuable horse, and so richly caparisoned, that the emir could not bear the loss of him. This accident so vexed him, that instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre, and ran after his horse.

The horse galloped on before him, and led him several miles into a wood. Jehaun-dar followed him, and the horse's neighing roused a lion that was asleep. The lion started up, and instead of running after the horse, made directly towards Jehaun-dar, who thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life. He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him in view, pursuing him among the trees. In this extremity he said to himself, "Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to shew the innocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and now, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself."

While Jehaun-dar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent thirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble resolution to submit to the king their father's cruel order.

Prince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far off. "Ah! brother," said Assad, "we have so little time to live, what need have we to quench our thirst? We can bear it a few minutes longer."

Amgiad taking no notice of his brother's remonstrance, unbound himself, and the prince his brother. They went to the spring, and having refreshed themselves, heard the roaring of the lion. They also heard Jehaun-dar's dreadful cries in the wood, which he and the horse had entered. Amgiad took up the sabre which lay on the ground, saying to Assad, "Come, brother, let us go and save the unfortunate Jehaun-dar; perhaps we may arrive soon enough to deliver him from the danger to which he is now exposed."

The two princes ran to the wood, and entered it just as the lion was going to fall on Jehaun-dar. The beast seeing prince Amgiad advancing towards him with a sabre in his hand, left his prey, and rushed towards him with great fury. The prince met him intrepidly, and gave him a blow so forcibly and dexterously, that it felled him to the ground.

When Jehaun-dar saw that he owed his life to the two princes, he threw himself at their feet, and thanked them for the obligation, in words which sufficiently testified his gratitude. "Princes," said he, rising up and kissing their hands, with tears in his eyes, "God forbid that ever I should attempt any thing against your lives, after you have so kindly and bravely saved mine. It shall never be said that the emir Jehaun-dar was guilty of such ingratitude."

"The service we have done you," answered the princes, "ought not to prevent you from executing the orders you have received: let us first catch your horse, and then return to the place where you left us."—They were at no great trouble to take the horse, whose mettle was abated with running. When they had restored him to Jehaun-dar, and were come near the fountain, they begged of him to do as their father had commanded; but all to no purpose. "I only take the liberty to desire," said Jehaun-dar, "and I pray you not to deny me, that you will divide my clothes between you, and give me yours; and go to such a distance, that the king your father may never hear of you more."

The princes were forced to comply with his request. Each of them gave him his clothes, and covered themselves with what he could spare them of his. He also gave them all the money he had about him, and took his leave of them.

After the emir Jehaun-dar had parted from the princes, he passed through the wood where Amgiad had killed the lion, in whose blood he dipped their clothes: which having done, he proceeded on his way to the capital of the isle of Ebene.

On his arrival there, Kummir al Zummaun inquired if he had done as commanded? Jehaun-dar replied, "Behold, sir, the proofs of my obedience;" giving him at the same time the princes' clothes.

"How did they bear their punishment?" Jehaun-dar answered, "With wonderful constancy and resignation to the decrees of heaven, which shewed how sincerely they made profession of their religion: but particularly with great respect towards your majesty, and an inconceivable submission to the sentence of death. 'We die innocent,' said they; 'but we do not murmur: we take our death from the hand of heaven, and forgive our father; for we know he has not been rightly informed of the truth.'"

Kummir al Zummaun was sensibly touched at Jehaun-dar's relation. A thought occurred to him to search the princes' pockets; he began with prince Amgiad's where he found a letter open, which he read. He no sooner recognized the hand-writing than he was chilled with horror. He then, trembling, put his hand into that of Assad, and finding there queen Badoura's letter, his horror was so great, that he fainted.

Never was grief equal to Kummir all Zummaun's, when he recovered from his fit: "Barbarous father," cried he, "what hast thou done? Thou hast murdered thy own children, thy innocent children! Did not their wisdom, their modesty, their obedience, their submission to thy will in all things, their virtue, all plead in their behalf? Blind and insensible father! dost thou deserve to live after the execrable crime thou hast committed? I have brought this abomination on my own head; and heaven chastises me for not persevering in that aversion to women with which I was born. And, oh ye detestable wives! I will not, no, I will not, as ye deserve, wash off the guilt of your sins with your blood; ye are unworthy of my rage: but I will never see you more!"

Kummir al Zummaun was a man of too much religion to break his vow: he commanded the two queens to be lodged in separate apartments that very day, where they were kept under strong guards, and he never saw them again as long as he lived.

While the king of the isle of Ebene was afflicting himself for the loss of his sons, of whose death he thought he had been the author by his too rashly condemning them, the royal youths wandered through deserts, endeavouring to avoid all places that were inhabited, and shun every human creature. They lived on herbs and wild fruits, and drank only rain-water, which they found in the crevices of the rocks. They slept and watched by turns at night, for fear of wild beasts.

When they had travelled about a month, they came to the foot of a frightful mountain of black stones, and to all appearance inaccessible. They at last espied a kind of path, but so narrow and difficult that they durst not venture to follow it: this obliged them to go along by the foot of the mountain, in hopes of finding a more easy way to reach the summit, but could discover nothing like a path, so they were forced to return to that which they had neglected. They still thought it would be in vain for them to attempt it. They deliberated for a long time what they should do, and at last, encouraging one another, resolved to ascend.

The more they advanced the higher and steeper the mountain appeared, which made them think several times of giving over their enterprise. When the one was weary, the other stopped, and they took breath together; sometimes they were both so tired, that they wanted strength to proceed: then despairing of being able to reach the top they thought they must lie down and die of fatigue and weariness. A few minutes after, when they found they recovered strength, they animated each other and went on.

Notwithstanding all their endeavours, their courage and perseverance, they could not reach the summit that day; night came on, and prince Assad was so spent, that he stopped and said to Amgiad, "Brother, I can go no farther, I am just dying." "Let us rest ourselves," replied prince Amgiad, "as long as you will, and have a good heart: it is but a little way to the top, and the moon befriends us."

They rested about half an hour, and then Assad making a new effort, they ascended what remained of the way to the summit, where they both at last arrived, and lay down. Amgiad rose first, and advancing, saw a tree at a little distance. He went to it, and found it was a pomegranate, with large fruit upon it, and he perceived there was a spring at its foot: he ran to his brother Assad to tell him the good news, and conduct him to the tree by the fountain side. Here they refreshed themselves by eating each a pomegranate, after which they fell asleep.

When they awoke the next morning, "Come, brother," said Amgiad to Assad, "let us go on; I see the mountain is easier to be travelled over on this side than the other, all our way now is down hill." But Assad was so tired with the preceding day's exertions, that he wanted three days' repose to recover himself.

They spent these days as they had done many before, in conversing on their mothers' inordinate passion, which had reduced them to such a deplorable state: but, said they, "Since heaven has so visibly declared itself in our favour, we ought to bear our misfortunes with patience, and comfort ourselves with hopes that we shall see an end of them."

After having rested three days, the two brothers continued their travels. As the mountain on that side was composed of several shelves of extensive flat, they were five days in descending before they came into the plain. They then discovered a large city, at which they rejoiced: "Brother," said Amgiad to Assad, "are not you of my opinion that you should stay in some place out of the city, where I may find you again, while I go and inform myself what country we are in, and when I come back I will bring provisions with me? It may not be safe for us to go there together."

"Brother," replied Assad, "your plan is both safe and prudent, and I approve of what you say but if one of us must part from the other on that account, I will not suffer it shall be you; you must allow me to go; for what shall I suffer, if any accident should befall you?"

"But, brother," answered Amgiad, "the very accident you fear would befall me, I have as much reason to fear would happen to you: I entreat you to let me go, and do you remain here patiently." "I will never consent to this," said Assad; "if any ill happen to me, it will be some comfort to think you are safe." Amgiad was forced to submit, and Assad going towards the city, he stayed under the trees at the foot of the mountain.

Prince Assad took the purse of money which Amgiad had in charge, and went forwards towards the city. He had not proceeded far in the first street, before he met with a reverend old man with a cane in his hand. He was neatly dressed, and the prince took him for a man of note in the place, who would not put a trick upon him, so he accosted him thus: "Pray, my lord, which is the way to the market-place?" The old man looked at prince Assad smiling; "Child," said he, "it is plain you are a stranger, or you would not have asked that question."

"Yes, my lord, I am a stranger," replied Assad. The old man answered, "You are welcome then; our country will be honoured by the presence of so handsome a young man as you are: tell me what business you have at the market-place."

"My lord," replied Assad, "it is near two months since my brother and I set out from our own country: we have not ceased travelling, and we arrived here but to-day; my brother, tired with such a long journey, stays at the foot of the mountain, and I am come to buy some provisions for him and myself."

"Son," said the old man, "you could not have come in a better time, and I am glad of it for your and your brother's sake. I made a feast today for some friends of mine: come along with me; you shall eat as much as you please; and when you have done, I will give you enough to last your brother and yourself several days. Do not spend your money, when there is no occasion; travellers are always in want of it: while you are eating I will give you an account of our city, which no one can do better than myself, who have borne all the honourable offices in it. It is well for you that you happen to light upon me; for I must tell you, all our citizens cannot so well assist and inform you. I can assure you some of them are very wicked. Come, you shall see the difference between a real honest man, as I am, and such as boast of being so, and are not."

"I am infinitely obliged to you," replied Assad, "for your kindness; I put myself entirely into your hands, and am ready to go with you where you please."

The old man, as he walked along by his side, laughed inwardly, to think he had got the prince in his clutches; and all the way, lest he should perceive his dissimulation, talked of various subjects, to preserve the favourable opinion Assad had of him. Among other things, he said, "It must be confessed you were very fortunate to have spoken to me, rather than to any one else: I thank God I met with you; you will know why, when you come to my house."

At length they arrived at the residence of the old man, who introduced Assad into a hall, where there were forty such old fellows as himself, who made a circle round a flaming fire, which they were adoring. The prince was not less struck with horror at the sight of so many men mistakenly worshipping the creature for the Creator, than he was with fear at finding himself betrayed into so abominable a place.

While the prince stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat saluted the forty gray-headed men. "Devout adorers of fire," said he to them, "this is a happy day for us; where is Gazban? call him."

He spake these words aloud, when a negro who waited at the lower end of the hall immediately came up to him. This black was Gazban, who, as soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what purpose he was called. He rushed upon him immediately, threw him down, and bound his hands with wonderful activity. When he had done, "Carry him down," said the old man, "and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to give him every day a severe bastinado, with only a loaf morning and night for his subsistence; this is enough to keep him alive till the next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain, where he shall be offered up an acceptable sacrifice to our divinity."

As soon as the old man had given the cruel order, Gazban hurried prince Assad under the hall, through several doors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps; there he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness, fastened to his feet. When he had done, he went to give the old man's daughters notice: but their father had before sent for them, and given them their instructions himself: "Daughters," said he to them, "go down and give the Mussulmaun I just now brought in the bastinado: do not spare him; you cannot better shew your zeal for the worship of the fire."

Bostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to the faithful, received this order with joy. They descended into the dungeon that instant, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till the blood issued out of his wounds and he was almost dead. After this cruel treatment, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water by him, and retired.

Assad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he revived, he burst out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery. His comfort however was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother.

Amgiad waited for his brother till evening with impatience; as two, three, or four of the clock in the morning arrived, and Assad did not return, he was in despair. He spent the night in extreme uneasiness; and as soon as it was day went to the city, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmauns. He accosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place. He was told it was the city of the Magicians, so called from the great number of magicians, who adored the fire; and that it contained but few Mussulmauns. Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle of Ebene? He was answered, four months' voyage by sea, and a year's journey by land. The man he talked to left him hastily, having satisfied him as to these two questions.

Amgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene with his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they had reached this city in so short a time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the way across the mountain was a much shorter one, but not frequented because of its difficulty.

Going farther into the town, he stopped at a tailor's shop, whom he knew to be a Mussulmaun by his dress. Having saluted him, he sat down, and told him the occasion of the trouble he was in.

When prince Amgiad had done talking, the tailor replied, "If your brother has fallen into the hands of some magicians, depend upon it you will never see him more. He is lost past all recovery; and I advise you to comfort yourself as well as you can, and to beware of falling into the same misfortune: to which end, if you will take my advice, you shall stay at my house, and I will tell you all the tricks of these magicians, that you may take care of yourself, when you go out." Amgiad, afflicted for the loss of his brother, accepted the tailor's offer and thanked him a thousand times for his kindness to him.



The Story of the Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the Magicians.



For a whole month prince Amgiad never went out of the tailor's house without being accompanied by his host. At last he ventured to go alone to the bath. As he was returning home, he met a lady on the way. Seeing a handsome young man, she lifted up her veil, asked him with a smiling air, and bewitching look, whither he was going? Amgiad was overpowered by her charms, and replied, "Madam, I am going to my own house, or, if you please, I will go to yours."

"My lord," resumed the lady, with a smile, "ladies of my quality never take men to their houses, they always accompany them to theirs."

Amgiad was much perplexed by this unexpected reply. He durst not venture to take her home to his landlord's house, lest he should give him offence, and thereby lose his protection, of which he had so much need, in a city which required him to be always on his guard. He knew so little of the town, that he could not tell where to convey her, and he could not make up his mind to suffer the adventure to go unimproved. In this uncertainty, he determined to throw himself upon chance; and without making any answer, went on, and the lady followed him. Amgiad led her from street to street, from square to square, till they were both weary with walking. At last they entered a street, at the end of which was a closed gateway leading to a handsome mansion. On each side of the gateway was a bench. Amgiad sat down on one of them, as if to take breath: and the lady, more weary than he, seated herself on the other.

When she had taken her seat, she asked him, whether that was his house? "You see it, madam," said Amgiad. "Why do you not open the gate then," demanded the lady; "what do you wait for?" "Fair lady," answered Amgiad, "I have not the key; I left it with my slave, when I sent him on an errand, and he cannot be come back yet: besides, I ordered him afterwards to provide something good for dinner; so that I am afraid we shall wait a long time for him."

The prince, meeting with so many obstacles to the satisfying of his passion, began to repent of having proceeded so far, and contrived this answer, in hopes that the lady would take the hint, would leave him out of resentment, and seek elsewhere for a lover; but he was mistaken.

"This is a most impertinent slave," said the lady, "to make us wait so long. I will chastise him myself as he deserves, if you do not, when he comes back. It is not decent that I should sit here alone with a man." Saying this, she arose, and took up a stone to break the lock, which was only of wood, and weak, according to the fashion of the country.

Amgiad gave himself over for a lost man, when he saw the door forced open. He paused to consider whether he should go into the house or make off as fast as he could, to avoid the danger which he believed was inevitable; and he was going to fly when the lady returned.

Seeing he did not enter, she asked, "Why do not you come into your house?" The prince answered, "I am looking to see if my slave is coming, fearing we have nothing ready." "Come in, come in," resumed she, "we had better wait for him within doors than without."

Amgiad, much against his will, followed her into the house. Passing through a spacious court, neatly paved, they ascended by several steps into a grand vestibule, which led to a large open hall very well furnished, where he and the lady found a table ready spread with all sorts of delicacies, another heaped with fruit, and a sideboard covered with bottles of wine.

When Amgiad beheld these preparations, he gave himself up for lost. "Unfortunate Amgiad," said he to himself, "thou wilt soon follow thy dear brother Assad."

The lady, on the contrary, transported at the sight, exclaimed, "How, my lord, did you fear there was nothing ready? You see your slave has done more than you expected. But, if I am not mistaken, these preparations were made for some other lady, and not for me: no matter, let her come, I promise you I will not be jealous; I only beg the favour of you to permit me to wait on her and you."

Amgiad, greatly as he was troubled at this accident, could not help laughing at the lady's pleasantry. "Madam," said he, thinking of something else that tormented his mind, "there is nothing in what you imagine; this is my common dinner, and no extraordinary preparation, I assure you." As he could not bring himself to sit down at a table which was not provided for him, he would have taken his seat on a sofa, but the lady would not permit him. "Come, sir," said she, "you must be hungry after bathing, let us eat and enjoy ourselves."

Amgiad was forced to comply: they both sat down, and began to regale themselves. After having taken a little, the lady took a bottle and glass, poured out some wine, and when she had drunk herself, filled another glass, and gave it to Amgiad, who pledged her. The more the prince reflected on this adventure, the more he was amazed that the master of the house did not appear; and that a mansion, so rich and well provided, should be left without a servant. "It will be fortunate," said he to himself, "if the master of the house do not return till I am got clear of this intrigue." While he was occupied with these thoughts, and others more troublesome, she ate and drank heartily, and obliged him to do the same. Just as they were proceeding to the dessert, the master of the house arrived.

It happened to be Bahader, master of the horse to the king of the magicians. This mansion belonged to him, but he commonly resided in another; and seldom came to this, unless to regale himself with two or three chosen friends He always sent provisions from his other house on such occasions, and had done so this day by some of his servants, who were just gone when the lady and Amgiad entered.

Bahader came as he used to do, in disguise, and without attendants, and a little before the time appointed for the assembling of his friends. He was not a little surprised to find the door broken open; he entered, making no noise, and hearing some persons talking and making merry in the hall, he stole along under the wall, and put his head half way within the door to see who they were.

Perceiving a young man and a young lady eating at his table the victuals that had been provided for his friends and himself, and that there was no great harm done, he resolved to divert himself with the adventure.

The lady's back was a little turned towards him, and she did not see the master of the horse, but Amgiad perceived him immediately. The glass was at the time in his hand, and he was going to drink; he changed colour at the sight of Bahader, who made a sign to him not to say a word, but to come and speak to him.

Amgiad drank and rose: "Where are you going?" inquired the lady. The prince answered, "Pray, madam, stay here a little; I shall return directly." Bahader waited for him in the vestibule, and led him into the court to talk to him without being overheard by the lady.

When Bahader and Amgiad were in the court, Bahader demanded of the prince, how the lady came into his house? and why they broke open his door? "My lord," replied Amgiad, "you may very reasonably think me guilty of a very unwarrantable action: but if you will have patience to hear me, I hope I shall convince you of my innocence." He then related, in a few words, what had happened, without disguising any part of the truth; and to shew him that he was not capable of committing such an action as to break into a house, told him he was a prince, and informed him of the reason of his coming to the city of the magicians.

Bahader, who was a good man, was pleased with an opportunity of obliging one of Amgiad's rank: for by his air, his actions, and his well-turned conversation, he did not in the least doubt the truth of what he had asserted. "Prince," said Bahader, "I am glad I can oblige you in so pleasant an adventure. Far from disturbing the feast, it will gratify me to contribute to your satisfaction in any thing. Before I say any more on this subject, I must inform you my name is Bahader; I am master of the horse to the king of the magicians; I commonly reside in another house, which I have in the city, and come here sometimes to have the more liberty with my friends. You have made this lady believe you have a slave, though you have none; I will personate that slave, and that this may not make you uneasy, and to prevent your excuses, I repeat again, that I will positively have it to be so; you will soon know my reason. Go to your place, and continue to divert yourself. When I return again, and come to you in a slave's habit, chide me for staying so long, do not be afraid even to strike me. I will wait upon you while you are at table till night; you shall sleep here, and so shall the lady, and to-morrow morning you may send her home with honour. I shall afterwards endeavour to do you more important services: go, and lose no time." Amgiad would have made him an answer, but the master of the horse would not suffer him, forcing him to return to the lady. He had scarcely reentered the hall before Bahader's friends, whom he had invited, arrived. Bahader excused himself for not entertaining them that day, telling them they would approve of his reason when they should be informed of it, which they should be in due time. When they were gone, he went and dressed himself in a slave's habit.

Prince Amgiad returned to the lady much pleased at finding the house belonged to a man of quality, who had received him so courteously. When he sat down again, he said, "Madam, I beg a thousand pardons for my rudeness. I was vexed that my slave should tarry so long; the rascal shall pay for it when he comes: I will teach him to make me wait so for him."

"Let not that trouble you," said the lady. "The evil is his; if he is guilty of any faults, let him pay for it: but do not let us think of him, we will enjoy ourselves without him."

They continued at the table with the more pleasure, as Amgiad was under no apprehensions of the consequence of the lady's indiscretion in breaking open the door. The prince was now as merry as the lady: they said a thousand pleasant things, and drank more than they ate, till Bahader arrived in his disguise.

Bahader entered like a slave who feared his master's displeasure for staying out when he had company with him. He fell down at his feet and kissed the ground, to implore his clemency; and when he had done, stood behind him with his hands across, waiting his commands.

"Sirrah," said Amgiad, with a fierce tone, and angry look, "where have you been? What have you been doing, that you came no sooner?"

"My lord," replied Bahader, "I ask your pardon; I was executing your orders, and did not think you would return home so early."

"You are a rascal," said Amgiad, "and I will break your bones, to teach you to lie, and disappoint me." He then rose up, took a stick, and gave him two or three slight blows; after which he sat down again.

The lady was not satisfied with this chastisement. She also rose, took the stick, and fell upon Bahader so unmercifully, that the tears came into his eyes. Amgiad, offended to the last degree at the freedom she took, and that she should use one of the king's chief officers so ill, called out to her in vain to forbear. "Let me alone," said she "I will give him enough, and teach him to be absent so long another time." She continued beating him with great fury, till Amgiad rose from the table, and forced the stick out of her hand which she did not relinquish without much struggling. When she found she could beat Bahader no longer, she sat down, railed at and cursed him.

Bahader wiped his eyes, and stood up to fill out wine When he saw they had done eating and drinking, he took away the cloth, cleared the hall, put every thing in its place; and night coming on, lighted up the lamps. Every time he came in, or went out, the lady muttered, threatened him, and gave him abusive language, to Amgiad's great regret, who would have hindered her, but could not. When it was time for them to retire to bed, Bahader prepared one for them on the sofa, and withdrew into a chamber, where he laid himself down, and soon fell asleep, having been fatigued with his beating. Amgiad and the lady entertained one another for some time afterwards. The lady before she went to bed having occasion to go to another part of the house, passing through the vestibule, heard Bahader snore, and having seen a sabre hanging up in the hall, turned back, and said to Amgiad, "My lord, as you love me, do one thing for me." "In what can I serve you?" asked the prince. "Oblige me so far as to take down this sabre and cut off your slave's head." Amgiad was astonished at such a proposal from a lady, and made no doubt but it was the wine she had drunk that induced her to make it. "Madam," said he, "let us suffer him to rest, he is not worthy of your farther notice: I have beaten him, and you have beaten him: that ought to be sufficient; besides, I am in other respects well satisfied with him."

"That shall not satisfy me," replied the lady, in a violent passion; "the rascal shall die, if not by your hands, by mine." As she spoke, she took down the sabre from the place where it hung, drew it out of the scabbard, and prepared to execute her wicked design.

Amgiad met her in the vestibule, saying, "You shall be satisfied, madam, since you will have it so; but I should be sorry that any one besides myself should kill my slave." When she had given him the sabre, "Come, follow me," said he; "make no noise, lest we should awaken him." They went into Bahader's chamber, where Amgiad, instead of striking him, aimed his blow at the lady, and cut off her head, which fell upon Bahader.

Bahader was awakened by the head of the lady falling upon him. He was amazed to see Amgiad standing by him with a bloody sabre, and the body of the lady lying headless on the ground. The prince told him what had passed, and said, "I had no other way to prevent this furious woman from killing you, but to take away her life." "My lord," replied Bahader, full of gratitude, "persons of your rank and generosity are incapable of doing such a wicked action: as she desired of you. You are my deliverer, and I cannot sufficiently thank you." After having embraced him, to evince the sense he entertained of his obligations to him, he said, "We must carry this corpse out before it is quite day; leave it to me, I will do it." Amgiad would not consent to this, saying, "He would carry it away himself, since he had struck the blow." Bahader replied, "You are a stranger in this city, and cannot do it so well as one who is acquainted with the place. I must do it, if for no other reason, yet for the safety of both of us, to prevent our being questioned about her death. Remain you here, and if I do not return before day, you may be sure the watch has seized me; and for fear of the worst, I will by writing give this house and furniture for your habitation."

When he had written, signed, and delivered the paper to prince Amgiad, he put the lady's body in a bag, head and all; laid it on his shoulder, and went out with it from one street to another, taking the way to the sea-side. He had not proceeded far before he met one of the judges of the city, who was going the rounds in person. Bahader was stopped by the judge's followers, who, opening the bag, found the body of a murdered lady, bundled up with the head. The judge, who knew the master of the horse notwithstanding his disguise, took him home to his house, and not daring to put him to death without telling the king, on account of his rank, carried him to court as soon as it was day. When the king had been informed by the judge of the crime Bahader had, as he believed from the circumstances, committed, he addressed himself to the master of the horse as follows: "It is thus then that thou murderess my subjects, to rob them, and then wouldst throw their dead bodies into the sea, to hide thy villainy? Let us get rid of him; execute him immediately."

Innocent as Bahader was, he received sentence of death with resignation, and said not a word in his justification. The judge carried him to his house, and while the pale was preparing, sent a crier to publish throughout the city, that at noon the master of the horse was to be impaled for a murder.

Prince Amgiad, who had in vain expected Bahader's return, was struck with consternation when he heard the crier publish the approaching execution of the master of the horse. "If," said he to himself, "any one ought to die for the murder of such a wicked woman, it is I, and not Bahader; I will never suffer an innocent man to be punished for the guilty." Without deliberating, he then hastened to the place of execution, whither the people were running from all parts.

When Amgiad saw the judge bringing Bahader to the pale, he went up to him, and said, "I am come to assure you, that the master of the horse, whom you are leading to execution, is wholly innocent of the lady's death; I alone am guilty of the crime, if it be one, to have killed a detestable woman, who would have murdered Bahader." He then related to him how it had happened.

The prince having informed the judge of the manner in which he had met her coming from the bath; how she had occasioned his going into the master of the horse's pleasure-house, and all that had passed to the moment in which he was forced to cut off her head, to save Bahader's life; the judge ordered execution to be stopped, and conducted Amgiad to the king, taking the master of the horse with them.

The king wished to hear the story from Amgiad himself; and the prince, the better to prove his own innocence and that of the master of the horse, embraced the opportunity to discover who he was, and what had driven him and his brother Assad to that city, with all the accidents that had befallen them, from their departure from the Isle of Ebene.

The prince having finished his account, the king said to him, "I rejoice that I have by this means been made acquainted with you; I not only give you your own life, and that of my master of the horse, whom I commend for his kindness to you, but I restore him to his office; and as for you, prince, I declare you my grand vizier, to make amends for your father's unjust usage, though it is also excusable, and I permit you to employ all the authority with which I now invest you to find out prince Assad."

Amgiad having thanked the king for the honour he had done him, on taking possession of his office of grand vizier used every possible means to find out the prince his brother. He ordered the common criers to promise a great reward to any who should discover him, or give any tidings of him. He sent men up and down the country to the same purpose; but in vain.

Assad in the meanwhile continued in the dungeon in chains; Bostama and Cavama, the cunning old conjuror's daughters, treating him daily with the same cruelty and inhumanity as at first.

The solemn festival of the adorers of fire approached; and a ship was fitted out for the fiery mountain as usual: the captain's name was Behram, a great bigot to his religion. He loaded it with proper merchandize; and when it was ready to sail, put Assad in a chest, which was half full of goods, a few crevices being left between the boards to give him air.

Before the ship sailed, the grand vizier Amgiad, who had been told that the adorers of fire used to sacrifice a Mussulmaun every year on the fiery mountain, suspecting that Assad might have fallen into their hands, and be designed for a victim, resolved to search the ship in person. He ordered all the passengers and seamen to be brought upon deck, and commanded his men to search all over the ship, which they did, but Assad could not be found, he was so well concealed.

When the grand vizier had done searching the vessel, she sailed. As soon as Behram was got out to sea, he ordered prince Assad to be taken out of the chest, and fettered, to secure him, lest he should throw himself into the sea in despair since he knew he was going to be sacrificed.

The wind was very favourable for a few days, after which there arose a furious storm. The vessel was driven out of her course, so that neither Behram nor his pilot knew where they were. They were afraid of being wrecked on the rocks, for in the violence of the storm they discovered land, and a dangerous shoal before them. Behram perceived that he was driven into the port and capital of queen Margiana, which occasioned him great mortification.

This queen Margiana was a devout professor of the Mahummedan faith, and a mortal enemy to the adorers of fire. She had banished all of them out of her dominions, and would not suffer their ships to touch at her ports.

It was no longer in the power of Behram to avoid putting into the harbour, for he had no alternative but to be dashed to pieces against the frightful rocks that lay off the shore. In this extremity he held a council with his pilot and seamen. "My lads," said he, "you see to what a necessity we are reduced. We must choose one of two things; either to resolve to be swallowed up by the waves, or put into queen Margiana's port, whose hatred to all persons of our religion you well know. She will certainly seize our vessel and put us all to death, without mercy. I see but one way to escape her, which is, to take off the fetters from the Mussulmaun we have aboard, and dress him like a slave. When queen Margiana commands me to come before her, and asks what trade I follow, I will tell her I deal in slaves; that I have sold all I had, but one, whom I keep to be my clerk, because he can read and write. She will by this means see him, and he being handsome, and of her own religion, will have pity on him. No doubt she will then ask to buy him of me, and on this account will let us stay in the port till the weather is fair. If any of you have any thing else to propose that will be preferable, I am ready to attend to it." The pilot and seamen applauded his judgment, and agreed to follow his advice.

Behram commanded prince Assad's chains to be taken off, and had him neatly habited like a slave, as became one who was to pass for his clerk before the queen of the country. They had scarcely time to do this, before the ship drove into the port, and dropped anchor.

Queen Margiana's palace was so near the sea, that her garden extended down to the shore. She saw the ship anchor, and sent to the captain to come to her, and the sooner to satisfy her curiosity waited for him in her garden.

Behram landed with prince Assad, whom he required to confirm what he had said of his being a slave, and his clerk. When he was introduced to the queen, he threw himself at her feet, and informed her of the necessity he was under to put into her port: that he dealt in slaves, and had sold all he had but one, who was Assad, whom he kept for his clerk.

The queen was taken with Assad from the moment she first saw him, and was extremely glad to hear that he was a slave; resolving to buy him, cost what he would. She asked Assad what was his name.

"Great queen," he replied, with tears in his eyes, "does your majesty ask what my name was formerly, or what it is now?" The queen answered, "Have you two names then?" "Alas! I have," said Assad: "I was once called Assad (most happy); and now my name is Motar" (devoted to be sacrificed).

Margiana not being able to comprehend the meaning of his answer, interpreted it to refer to his condition of a slave. "Since you are clerk to the captain," said she, "no doubt you can write well; let me see your hand."

Behram had furnished Assad with pen, ink, and paper, as a token of his office, that the queen might take him for what he designed she should.

The prince stepped a little aside, and wrote as follows, suitable to his wretched circumstances:

"The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted falls. Fools advance themselves to honours, by discourses which signify nothing, while men of sense and eloquence live in poverty and contempt. The Mussulmaun with all his riches is miserable. The infidel triumphs. We cannot hope things will be otherwise. The Almighty has decreed it shall be so."

Assad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who admired alike the moral of the sentences, and the goodness of the writing. She needed no more to have her heart inflamed, and to feel a sincere concern for his misfortunes. She had no sooner read the lines, than she addressed herself to Behram, saying, "Do which you will, either sell me this slave, or make me a present of him; perhaps it will turn most to your account to do the latter."

Behram answered insolently, that he could neither give nor sell him; that he wanted his slave, and would keep him.

Queen Margiana, provoked at his rudeness, would not talk to him any more on the subject. She took the prince by the arm, and turned him before her to the palace, sending Behram word, that if he stayed the night in her port, she would confiscate his goods, and burn his ship. He was therefore forced to return to his vessel, and prepare to put to sea again, notwithstanding the tempest had not yet subsided.

Queen Margiana, on entering her palace, commanded supper to be got ready; and while it was providing, she ordered Assad to be brought into her apartment, where she bade him sit down. Assad would have excused himself: "It becomes not a slave," said he, "to presume to this honour."

"To a slave!" replied the queen: "you were so a moment ago; henceforward you are no more a slave. Sit down near me, and tell me the story of your life; for by what you wrote, and the insolence of that slave-merchant, I guess there is something extraordinary in your history."

Prince Assad obeyed her; and sitting down, began thus: "Mighty queen, your majesty is not mistaken, in thinking there is something extraordinary in the story of my life: it is indeed more so than you can imagine. The ills, the incredible torments I have suffered, and the death to which I was devoted, and from which I am delivered by your royal generosity, will shew the greatness of my obligation to you, never to be forgotten. But before I enter into particulars of my miseries, which will strike horror into the hearts of all that hear them, I must trace the origin of them to its source."

This preamble increased queen Margiana's curiosity. The prince then told her of his royal birth; of his brother Amgiad, and their mutual friendship; of their mothers' criminal passion, the cause of all their sufferings; of the king his father's rage; how miraculously their lives were saved; how he had lost his brother; how he had been long imprisoned and tortured, and was devoted to be sacrificed on the fiery mountain.

When Assad had finished his recital' the queen was more than ever enraged at the adorers of fire. "Prince," said she, "though I have always had an aversion to the adorers of fire, yet hitherto I have had some humanity for them: but after their barbarous usage of you, and their execrable design to sacrifice you, I will henceforth wage perpetual war against them."

She was proceeding, but supper being served in, she made prince Assad sit down at table with her, being charmed with his beauty and eloquence, and touched with a passion which she hoped soon to have an opportunity of making known to him "Prince," said she, "we must make you amends for so many fasts and wretched meals, to which the pitiless adorers of fire made you submit; you must want nourishment after such sufferings." With conversation of this kind she helped him at supper; and ordered him to drink a good deal of wine to recover his spirits; by which means he drank more than he could well bear.

The cloth being taken away, Assad having occasion to go out, took an opportunity when the queen did not observe him. He descended into the court, and seeing the garden-door open, went into it. Being tempted by the pleasantness of the place, he walked there for some time. At last he came to a fountain, where he washed his face and hands to refresh himself, and lying down on the turf by the fountain, fell asleep.

Behram, to prevent the queen from executing her threats, had weighed anchor, vexed at the loss of Assad, by which he was disappointed of a most acceptable sacrifice. He comforted himself as well as he could, with the thoughts that the storm was over, and that a land breeze favoured his getting off the coast. As soon as he was towed out of the port by the help of his boat, before it was hoisted up into the ship again, "Stop, my lads," said he to the seamen, "do not come on board yet; I will give you some casks to fill with water, and wait for you." Behram had observed, while he was talking to the queen in the garden, that there was a fountain at the end of it, near the port. "Go," said he, "land before the palace-garden; the wall is not above breast high, you may easily get over; there is a basin in the middle of the garden, where you may fill all your barrels, and hand them aboard without difficulty."

The sailors went ashore at the place he directed them to, and laying their casks on their shoulders easily got over the wall.

As they approached the basin, they perceived a man sleeping on the grass, and knew him to be Assad. They immediately divided themselves; and while some of the crew filled their barrels with as little noise as possible, others surrounded Assad, and watched to seize him if he should awake.

He slept on undisturbed, giving them time to fill all their casks; which they afterwards handed over the wall to others of the crew who waited to carry them aboard.

They next seized Assad, and conveyed him away, without giving him time to recollect himself. They got him over the wall into their boat with the casks, and rowed to the ship. When they drew near her they cried out for joy, "Captain, sound your trumpets, beat your drums, we have brought you your slave."

Behram, who could not imagine how the seamen could find and take him again, and did not see Assad in the boat, it being night, waited their arrival with impatience, to ask what they meant; but when he saw him, he could not contain himself for joy. He commanded him to be chained, without staying to inquire how they came by him; and having hoisted the boat on board, set sail for the fiery mountain.

In the meanwhile queen Margiana was in alarm. She was not at first apprehensive when she found prince Assad was gone out, because she did not doubt but he would soon return When some time had passed without his appearing, she began to be uneasy, and commanded her women to look for him. They sought for him in every direction, and at night renewed their search by torch-light, but all to no purpose.

Queen Margiana was so impatient and alarmed, that she went herself with lights, and finding the garden-door open, entered, and walked all over it with her women to seek for him. Passing by the fountain and basin, she espied a slipper, which she took up, and knew it to be prince Assad's, her women also recognized it to be his. This circumstance, together with the water being spilt about the edge of the basin, induced her to believe that Behram had carried him off. She sent immediately to see if he was still in the port; and hearing he had sailed a little before it was dark, that he lay-to some time off the shore, while he sent his boat for water from the fountain, she sent word to the commander of ten ships of war, which lay always ready in the harbour, to sail on the shortest notice, that she would embark herself next morning as soon as it was day. The commander lost no time, ordered the captains, seamen and soldiers aboard, and was ready to sail at the time appointed. She embarked, and when the squadron was at sea, told the commander her intention. "Make all the sail you can," said she, "and chase the merchantman that sailed last night out of this port. If you capture it, I assign it to you as your property; but if you fail, your life shall answer."

The ten ships chased Behram's vessel two whole days without seeing her. The third day in the morning they discovered her, and at noon had so surrounded her, that she could not escape.

As soon as Behram espied the ten ships of war, he made sure it was queen Margiana's squadron in pursuit of him; and upon that he ordered Assad to be bastinadoed, which he had done every day. He was much perplexed what to do, when he found he was surrounded. To keep Assad, was to declare himself guilty; to kill him was as dangerous, for he feared some marks of the murder might be seen. He therefore commanded him to be unfettered and brought from the bottom of the hold where he lay. When he came before him, "It is thou," said he, "that art the cause of my being pursued;" and so saying, he flung him into the sea.

Prince Assad being an expert swimmer, made such good use of his feet and hands, that he reached the shore in safety. The first thing he did after he had landed, was to thank God who had delivered him from so great a danger, and once more rescued him out of the hands of the adorers of fire. He then stripped himself, and wringing the water out of his clothes, spread them on a rock, where, by the heat of the sun, and of the rock, they soon dried. After this he lay down to rest himself, deploring his miserable condition, not knowing in what country he was nor which way to direct his course. He dressed himself again and walked on, keeping as near the sea-side as he could. At last he entered a kind of path, which he followed, and travelled on ten days through an uninhabited country, living on herbs, plants, and wild fruits. At last he approached a city, which he recognized to be that of the magicians, where he had been so ill used and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier.

He rejoiced to discover where he was, but resolved not to approach any of the adorers of fire, and to converse only with Moosulmauns, for he remembered he had seen some the first time he entered the town. It being late, and knowing the shops were already shut, and few people in the streets, he resolved to remain in a burying ground near the city, where there were several tombs built in the form of mausoleums. He found the door of one of them open, which he entered, designing to pass the night there.

We must now return to Behram's ship, which, after he had thrown prince Assad overboard, was soon surrounded on all sides by queen Margiana's squadron. The ship in which queen Margiana was in person first came up with him, and Behram, being in no condition of defence against so many, furled his sails as a mark of his submission.

The queen herself boarded his ship, and demanded where the clerk was, whom he had the boldness to take or cause to be taken out of her palace. Behram replied, "O queen! I swear by your majesty, he is not in my ship; you will, by searching, be convinced of my innocence."

Margiana ordered the ship to be searched as narrowly as possible, but she could not find the man, whom she so much wished to recover, as well on account of her love for him, as of the generosity for which she was distinguished. She once resolved to kill Behram with her own hand, but refrained, and contented herself with seizing his ship and cargo, and turning him and his men on shore in their boat.

Behram and his seamen arrived at the city of the magicians the same night as Assad, and stopped at the same burying-ground, the city gates being shut, intending to stay in some tomb till the next day, when they should be opened again.

To Assad's misfortune, Behram came to that in which the prince was sleeping with his head wrapped up in his habit, and entered it. Assad awoke at the noise of his footsteps, and demanded who was there.

Behram immediately recognized him. "Hah, hah," said he, "thou art the man who has ruined me for ever; thou hast escaped being sacrificed this year, but depend on it thou shalt not be so fortunate the next." Saying this, he flew upon him, clapped his handkerchief into his mouth to prevent his making a noise, and with the assistance of his seamen bound him.

The next morning as soon as the city gates were open, Behram and his men easily carried Assad through streets, where no one was yet stirring, to the old man's house, where he had been so inhumanly treated. As soon as he was brought in, he was again thrown into the same dungeon. Behram acquainted the old man with the unfortunate circumstances of his return, and the ill success of his voyage. The old savage, upon this, commanded his two daughters Bostama and Cavama to treat him, if possible, more cruelly than before.

Assad was overwhelmed with terror at seeing himself again in the hands of persecutors from whom he had suffered so much, and expected the repetition of the torments from which he hoped that he had been delivered. He was lamenting the severity of his fate, when Bostama entered with a stick in her hand, a loaf and a pitcher of water. He trembled at the sight of this unmerciful wretch, and at the very thoughts of the sufferings he was to endure for another year, at the conclusion of which he was to die the most horrible death.