She then took a lute from one of her women, and sung to it in such a passionate manner as bespoke her to be beside herself, the prince of Persia standing with his eyes fixed upon her, as if he had been enchanted. As these things were passing, her trusty slave arrived all in a fright; and, addressing herself to her mistress, said, Madam, Mesrour and two other officers, with several eunuchs that attend them, are at the gate and want to speak with you from the caliph. When the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher heard these words, they changed colour, and began to tremble, as if they had been undone; but Schemselnihar, who perceived it, recovered their courage by a smile.

After Schemselnihar had quieted the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher's fears, she ordered the slave, her confident, to go and entertain Mesrour and the two other officers till she was in a condition to receive them, and send to her to bring them in. She immediately ordered all the windows of the saloon to be shut, and the painted cloth on the side of the garden to be let down; and having assured the prince and Ebn Thaher that they might continue there without fear, she went out at the gate leading to the garden, and shut it upon them; but, whatever assurance she had given them of their being safe, they were still much terrified all the while they were there.

As soon as Schemselnihar was in the garden with the women that followed her, she ordered all the seats which served the women who played on the instruments to be set near the window where Ebn Thaher and the prince of Persia heard them, and having got things in order, she sat down upon a silver throne; then she sent by the slave, her confident, to bring in the chief of the eunuchs, and his subaltern officers.

They appeared, followed by twenty black eunuchs, all handsomely clothed, with scimitars by their sides, and gold belts of four inches broad. As soon as they perceived the favourite Schemselnihar at a distance, they made her a profound reverence, which she returned them from her throne. When they came near, she got up and went to meet Mesrour, who came first. She asked what news he brought. He answered, Madam, the commander of the faithful has sent me to signify that he cannot live longer without seeing you; he designs to come to you tonight, and I come beforehand to give notice, that you may be prepared to receive him. He hopes, madam, that you long as much to see him as he is impatient to see you.

Upon this discourse of Mesrour, the favourite Schemselnihar prostrated herself to the ground, as a mark of the submission with which she received the caliph's order. When she rose again, she said, Pray tell the commander of the faithful, that I shall always esteem it my glory to execute his majesty's commands, and that his slave will do her utmost to receive him with all the respect that is due to him. At the same time she ordered the slave, her confident, to tell the black women appointed for that service to get the palace ready to receive the caliph; and dismissing the chief of the eunuchs, said to him, You see it requires some time to get all things ready, therefore I pray you to take care that his majesty may have a little patience, that, when he arrives, he may not find things out of order.

The chief of the eunuchs and his retinue being gone, Schemselnihar returned to the saloon, extremely concerned at the necessity she was under of sending back the prince of Persia sooner than she thought to have done. She came up to him again with tears in her eyes, which heightened Ebn Thaher's fear, who thought it no good omen. Madam, said the prince to her, I perceive you are come to tell me that we must part; provided there be nothing more to dread, I hope Heaven will give me the patience which is necessary to support your absence. Alas, my dear heart, my dear soul, replied the tender-hearted Schemselnihar, how happy do I think you, and how unhappy myself, when I compare your lot with my sad destiny! No doubt, you will suffer by my absence; but that is all, and you may comfort yourself with the hope of seeing me again; but as for me, just Heaven! what a terrible trial am I brought to! I must not only be deprived of the sight of the only person whom I love, but I must be tormented with the sight of one whom you have made hateful to me. Will not the arrival of the caliph put me in mind of your departure? And how can I, when I think of your sweet face, entertain that prince with that joy which he always observed in my eyes whenever he came to see me? I shall have my mind wavering when I speak to him; and the least complaisance which I show to him, will stab me to the heart like a dagger. Can I relish his kind words and caresses? Think, prince, to what torments I shall be exposed when I can see you no more! Her tears and sighs hindered her to go on, and the prince of Persia would have replied to her; but his own grief, and that of his mistress, made him incapable.

Ebn Thaher, whose chief business was to get out of the palace, was obliged to comfort them, and to exhort them to have patience. But the trusty slave interrupted them: Madam, said she to Schemselnihar, you have no time to lose, the eunuchs begin to arrive, and you know the caliph will be here immediately. 0 Heaven, how cruel is this separation! cried the favourite. Make haste, said she to the confident, carry them both to the gallery which looks into the garden on the one side, and to the Tigris on the other; and when the night grows dark, let them out by the back gate, that they may retire with safety. Having spoken thus, she tenderly embraced the prince of Persia, without being able to say one word more, and went to meet the caliph in such disorder as cannot well be imagined.

In the mean time the trusty slave carried the prince and Ebn Thaher to the gallery, as Schemselnihar had appointed; and having brought them in, left them there, and shut the door upon them, after having assured them that they had nothing to fear, and that she would come for them when it was time.

Schemselnihar's trusty slave leaving the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, they forgot she had assured them that they needed not to be afraid; they searched all the gallery, and were seized with extreme fear, because they knew no place where they might escape, in case the caliph, or any of his officers, should happen to come there.

A great light, which came on a sudden from the side of the garden through the windows, caused them to approach to see from whence it came. It was occasioned by a hundred flambeaux of white wax, carried by as many young eunuchs; these were followed by as many others, who guarded the ladies of the caliph's palace, clothed, and armed with scimitars, in the same manner as those already mentioned; and the caliph came after them, betwixt Mesrour, their captain, on his right, and the vassif, their second officer, on his left hand.

Schemselnihar waited for the caliph at the entry of an alley, accompanied by twenty women, all of surprising beauty, adorned with necklaces and ear-rings of large diamonds, and some of them had their whole heads covered with them. They played upon instruments, and made a charming concert. The favourite no sooner saw the prince appear than she advanced, and prostrated herself at his feet; and while doing this, Prince of Persia, said she within herself, if your sad eyes bear witness to what I do, judge of my hard lot; if I was humbling myself so before you, my heart should feel no reluctance.

The caliph was ravished to see Schemselnihar. Rise, madam, said he to her; come near: I am angry that I should have deprived myself so long of the pleasure of seeing you. Saying this, he took her by the hand, and, after abundance of tender expressions, went and sat down upon a silver throne which Schemselnihar caused to be brought for him, and she sat down upon a seat opposite, and the twenty women made a circle round about them upon other seats, while the young eunuchs, who carried flambeaux, dispersed themselves at a certain distance from each other, that the caliph might enjoy the cool of the evening the better.

When the caliph sat down, he looked round him, and beheld with satisfaction a great many other lights besides those flambeaux which the young eunuchs held; but taking notice that the saloon was shut, was astonished thereat, and demanded the reason. It was done on purpose to surprise him; for he had no sooner spoken, than the windows were at once opened, and he saw it illuminated within and without in a much better manner than ever he had seen it before. Charming Schemselmhar, cried he at this sight, I understand you; you would have me to know there are as fine nights as days. After what I have seen, I cannot disown it.

Let us return to the prince of Persia and Elm Thaher, whom we left in the gallery. Ebn Thaher could not enough admire all he saw. I am not very young, said he, and in my time have seen great entertainments; but I do not think any thing can be more surprising and magnificent. All that is said of enchanted palaces does no way come near this prodigious spectacle we now see. O strange! what riches and magnificence together!

The prince of Persia was nothing moved with those objects which were so pleasant to Ebn Thaher; he could look on nothing but Schemselnihar, and the presence of the caliph threw him into inconceivable grief. Dear Ebn Thaher, said he, would to God I had my mind as free to admire these things as you! But, alas! I am in a quite different condition; all those objects serve only to increase my torment. Can I see the caliph cheek to cheek with her that I love, and not die of grief? Must such a passionate love as mine be disturbed by so potent a rival? O heavens, how cruel is my destiny! It is but a moment since I esteemed myself the most fortunate lover in the world, and at this instant I feel my heart so struck, that it is like to kill me. I cannot resist it, my dear Ebn Thaher; my patience is at an end; my distemper overwhelms me, and my courage fails. While speaking, he saw something pass in the garden, which obliged him to keep silence, and to turn all his attention that way.

The caliph had ordered one of the women, who was near him, to play on her lute, and she began to sing. The words that she sung were very passionate; and the caliph was persuaded that she sung thus by order of Schemselnihar, who had frequently entertained him with the like testimonies of her affection; therefore he interpreted all in his own favour. But this was not now Schemselnihar's meaning; she applied it to her dear Ali Ebn Becar, and was so sensibly touched with grief, to have before her an object whose presence she could no longer enjoy, that she fainted and fell backwards upon her seat, which having no arms to support her, she must have fallen down, had not some of the women helped her in time; who took her up, and carried her into the saloon.

Ebn Thaher, who was in the gallery, being surprised at this accident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but, instead of seeing him stand and look through the window as before, he was extremely amazed to see him fall down at his feet, and without motion. He judged it to proceed from the violence of his love to Schemselnihar, and admired the strange effect of sympathy which threw him into great fear, because of the place in which they were. In the mean time he did all he could to recover the prince, but in vain. Ebn Thaher was in this perplexity when Schemselnihar's confident, opening the gallery door, came in out of breath, as one who knew not where she was. Come speedily, cried she, that I may let you out. All is confusion here, and I fear this will be the last of our days. Ah! how would you have us go? replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice. Come near, I pray you, and see in what condition the prince of Persia is. When, the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran for water in all haste, and returned in an instant.

At last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his face, recovered his spirits. Prince, said Ebn Thaher to him, we run the risk of being destroyed, if we stay here any longer; let us therefore endeavour to save our lives. He was so feeble that he could not rise unassisted. Ebn Thaher and the confident lent him their hands, and supported him on each side. They came to a little iron gate which opened towards the Tigris, went out at it, and got to the side of a little canal communicating with the river. The confident clapped her hands, and immediately a little boat appeared, which came towards them with one rower. Ali Ebn Becar and his comrade went aboard, and the trusty slave staid at the side of the canal. As soon as the prince sat down in the boat, he stretched out one hand towards the palace and laid the other upon his heart. Dear object of my soul! cried he with a feeble voice, receive my faith with this hand, while I assure you with the other, that for you my heart shall for ever preserve the fire with which it burns!

In the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might; and Schemselnihar's trusty slave accompanied the prince of Persia and Ebu Thaher, walking along the side of the canal, until they came to the Tigris; and when she could go no further, she took farewell of them, and returned.

The prince of Persia continued very feeble. Ebn Thaher comforted him, and exhorted him to take courage. Consider, said he, that when we are landed, we have a great way to go before we come to my house; and I would not at this hour, and in this condition, advise you home to your lodgings, which are a great way further off than mine. At length they got out of the boat, but the prince was so weak that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great perplexity. He remembered he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and carried the prince thither with great difficulty. His friends received them very cheerfully; and, when he made them sit down, asked where they had been so late. Ebn Thaher answered him, I was this evening with a man who owed me a considerable sum of money, and designed to go a long voyage. I was unwilling to lose time to find him, and by the way I met with this young nobleman whom you see, and to whom I am under a thousand obligations; for, knowing my debtor, he would needs do me the favour of going along with me. We had a great deal of trouble to bring the man to reason; besides, we went out of the way, and that is the reason we are so late. In our return home, this good lord, for whom I have all possible respect, was attacked by a sudden distemper; which made me take the liberty of calling at your house, flattering myself that you would be pleased to give us quarters for this night.

Ebn Thaher's friend, who believed all this, told them they were welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all the assistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the prince, and said, that his distemper was of a nature that required nothing but rest. His friend understood by this that they desired to go to bed; on which he conducted them to an apartment, where he left them.

Though the prince of Persia slept, he had troublesome dreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at the caliph's feet, and increased his affliction. Ebn Thaher was very impatient to be at home, and doubted not but his family were in great trouble, because he never used to lie abroad. He rose and deported early in the morning, after taking leave of his friend, who rose at break of day to say his prayers. At last he came home; and the prince of Persia, who had walked so far with much trouble, lay down upon a sofa, as weary as if he had travelled a long journey Not being in a condition to go home, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be got ready for him, and sent to acquaint his friends with his condition, and where he was. In the mean time he begged him to compose himself, to command in his house, and order things as he pleased. I thank you hcartily for these obliging offers, said the prince of Persia; but, that I may not be any way troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal with me as if I were not at your house. I would not stay one moment, if I thought my presence would incommode you in the least.

As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his family all that had passed at Schemselnihar's palace, and concluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger he was in. The prince of Persia's principal domestics came to receive his orders at Ebn Thaher's house, and in a little time several of his friends who had notice of his indisposition arrived. Those friends passed the greater part of the day with him; and, though their conversation could not dissipate those sad ideas which were the cause of his trouble, yet it gave him some relief. He would have taken his leave of Ebn Thaher towards the evening; but this faithful friend found him still so weak, that he obliged him to stay till next day, and in the mean time, to divert him, gave him a concert of vocal and instrumental music in the evening; but this concert served only to put him in mind of the preceding night, and renewed his trouble, instead of assuaging it; so that next day his distemper seempd to increase. Upon this, Ebn Thaher did not oppose his going home, but took care to accompany him thither; and, when alone with him in his chamber, he represented to him all those arguments which might influence him to a generous endeavour to overcome that passion, which in the end would neither prove lucky to himself nor to the favourite. Ah, dear Ebn Thaher! cried the prince, how easy is it for you to give this advice, but how hard is it for me to follow it! I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to profit by it, I have said already, that I shall carry with me to the grave the love that I bear to Schemselnihar. When Ebn Thaher saw that lie could not prevail on the prince, he took his leave of him, and would have retired.

The prince of Persia detained him, and said, Kind Ebn Thaher, since I have declared to you that it is not in my power to follow your wise counsels, I beg you will not charge it on me as a crime, nor forbear to give me the usual testimonies of your friendship; you cannot do me a greater favour than to inform me of the destiny of my dear Schemselnihar, when you hear any news of it. The uncertainty I am in concerning her fate, and the apprehensions which her fainting occasioned me, keep me in this languishing condition you reproach me with. My lord, answered Ebn Thaher, you have reason to hope that her fainting was not attended with any serious consequences; her confident, will soon come and inform me of the issue, and as soon as I know the particulars, I shall not fail to impart them.

Ebn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home where he expected Schemselnihar's confident all day, but in vain, nor did she come next day. His uneasiness to know the state of the prince of Persia's health would not suffer him to stay any longer without seeing him; he went to his lodgings to exhort him to patience, and found him lying in bed as sick as ever, surrounded by many of his friends, and several physicians, who used all their art to discover the cause of his distemper. As soon as he saw Ebn Thaher, he looked upon him smiling, to signify that he had two things to tell him; the one, that he was glad to see him; the other, how much the physicians, who could not discover the cause of his distemper, were mistaken in their reasonings.

His friends and physicians retired one after another; so that Ebn Thaher, being alone with him, came near his bed, to ask how he did since he saw him. I must tell you, answered the prince, that my passion, which continually gathers new strength, and the uncertainty of the lovely Schemselnihar's destiny, augment my distemper every moment, and throw me into such a condition as afflicts my kindred and friends, and breaks the measures of my physicians, who do not understand it. You cannot think, added he, how much I suffer to see so many importunate people about me, and whom I cannot in civility put away. It is your company alone that is comfortable to me: but, in a word, I conjure you not to dissemble with me; what news do you bring of Schemselnihar? Have you seen her confident? What said she to you? Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not yet seen her; and no sooner had he told the prince of Persia this sad news, than tears came from his eyes, and his heart was so oppressed that he could not answer him one word. Prince, added Ebn Thaher, suffer me to tell you, that you are very ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of God, wipe away your tears: If any of your people should come in just now, they would discover you by this, notwithstanding the care you ought to take to conceal your thoughts. Whatever this judicious confident could say, it was impossible for the prince to refrain from weeping. Wise Ebn Thaher, said he, when he had recovered his speech, I may well hinder my tongue from revealing the secrets of my heart, but I have no power over my tears upon such a direful subject as Schemselnihar's danger! If that adorable and only object of my desires be no longer in the world. I shall not be one moment after! Reject so afflicting an idea, replied Ebn Thaher; Schemselnihar is yet alive; you need not doubt the certainty of it. If you have heard nothing of her, it is because she could find no occasion to send to you; and I hope you will hear from her to-day. To this he added several other comfortable things, and then retired.

Ebn Thaher was scarcely at his own house, when Schemselnihar's confident arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a bad omen. He asked concerning her mistress. Tell me yours first, said the confident; for I was in great trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition. Ebn Thaher told her all that she desired to know, and when he had done, the slave began her discourse: If the prince of Persia, said she, has suffered, and does still suffer, for my mistress, she suffers no less for him. After I departed from you, continued she, I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the help they endeavoured to give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of real grief; he asked the women, and me in particular, if we knew the cause of her distemper; but we all kept secret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean time, we wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any ways help her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she recovered. The caliph, who had the patience to wait, was truly glad at her recovery, and asked Schemselmhar the cause of her distemper. As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to resume her seat; and, after she had kissed his feet before he could hinder her, Sir, said she, I have reason to complain of Heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your majesty's feet, to testify thereby how sensible I am of your favours!

I am persuaded you love me, said the caliph to her, and I command you to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded in something today, which has occasioned this indisposition; take heed, I pray you, abstain from it for the future. I am glad to see you better; and I advise you to stay here tonight, and not to return to your chamber, lest the motion disturb you. Upon this he commanded a little wine to be brought her, in order to strengthen her; and then taking his leave, returned to his apartment.

As soon as the caliph was gone, my mistress gave me a sign to come near her. She asked me earnestly concerning you: I assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her easy as to that matter. I took care not to speak of the prince of Persia's fainting, lest it should make her fall into the same condition from which we had so much trouble to recover her; my precautions were all in vain, as you shall hear. Prince, said she, I henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of a sight of you. If I have understood your heart right, I only follow your example. Thou wilt not cease to weep until thou seest me again; it is but just, then, that I weep and mourn till I see you! At these words, which she uttered in such a manner as expressed the violence of her passion, she fainted in my arms a second time.

My comrades and I, said she, were long in recovering her; at last she came to herself; and then I said to her, Madam, are you resolved to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you? I beg of you to be persuaded, in the name of the prince of Persia, for whom it is your interest to live, to save yourself, as you love yourself, as you love the prince, and for our sakes, who are so faithful to you! I am very much obliged to you, replied she, for your care, zeal, and advice; but alas! these are useless to me! You are not to flatter us with hopes; for we can expect no end of our torment but in the grave! One of my companions would have diverted those sad ideas by playing on her lute; but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night with her. O heavens! what a night was it! She passed it in tears and groans, always naming the prince of Persia; lamented her lot, which had destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not to him she loved so dearly.

Next morning, because she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon, I helped her to her chamber, where she no sooner arrived, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her by order of the caliph, who was not long in coming himself. The medicines which the physicians prescribed for Schemselnihar were to no purpose, because they were ignorant of the cause of her distemper, and the presence of the caliph augmented it. She got a little rest, however, this night; and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you to hear concerning the prince of Persia. I have already informed you of his case, said Ebn Thaher; so return to your mistress, and assure her that the prince of Persia waits to hear from her with the like impatience that she does from him; besides, exhort her to moderation, and to overcome herself, lest she drop some words before the caliph, which may prove fatal to us all. As for me, replied the confident, I confess I dread her transport; I have taken the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take it ill that I tell her this from you.

Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia's lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect his own important affairs, and therefore went not till the evening. The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning. Ebn Thaher, said he, you have doubtless many friends; but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me by the zeal, care, and trouble, you give yourself to oblige me in my condition. I am confounded with all that you do for me with so great affection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my gratitude! Prince, answered Ebn Thaher, do not speak so, I entreat you; I am ready not only to give one of my own eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But this is not the present business; I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confident to ask me about you, and at the same time to inform me of her condition. You may assure yourself that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love her. Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him. The prince listened with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and compassion, with which this discourse could inspire him, making, upon every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.

Their conversation continued so long, that the night was far advanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay with him. Next morning, as this trusty friend was returning home, there came to him a woman, whom he knew to be Schemselnihar's confident, who eagerly addressed him thus: My mistress salutes you; and I am come to entreat you, in her home, to deliver this letter to the prince of Persia. The zealous Ebn Thaher took the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confident.

When Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia's house with Schemselnihar's confident, he prayed her to stay one moment in the drawing room. As soon as the prince of Persia saw him, he earnestly asked what news he had. The best you can expect, answered Ebn Thaher; you are as dearly beloved as you love; Schemselnihar's confident is in your drawing room; she has brought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders to come in. Let her come in! cried the prince, with a transport of joy; and, speaking thus, sat down to receive her.

The prince's attendants retired as soon as they saw Ebn Thaher, and left him alone with their master. Ebn Thaher went and opened the door, and brought in the confident. The prince knew her, and received her very civilly. My lord, said she to him, I am sensible of the afflictions you have endured since I had the honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you back; but I hope this letter I have brought will contribute to your cure. Upon this, she presented him the letter. He took it, and, after kissing it several times, opened it, and read as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to Ali Ebn Becar, Prince of Persia.

The person who carries this letter will give you a better account concerning me than I can do, for I have not been myself since I saw you: deprived of your presence, I sought to divert myself by entertaining you with these ill-written lines, as if I had the good fortune to speak to you.

It is said that patience is a cure for all distempers; but it sours mine instead of sweetening it. Although your picture be deeply engraven in my heart, my eyes desire constantly to see the original; and their sight will vanish if they are much longer deprived of that pleasure. May I flatter myself that yours have the same impatience to see me? Yes I can; their tender glances discovered it to me. How happy, prince, should you and Schemselnihar both be, if our agreeable desires were not crossed by invincible obstacles, which afflict me as sensibly as they do you!

Those thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with incredible pleasure, and repeat again and again, speak from the bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding the cruel torments I endure for your absence. I would reckon all that opposes our love nothing, were I only allowed to see you sometimes with freedom; I would then enjoy you, and what more could I desire?

Do not imagine that I say more than I think. Alas! whatever expressions I am able to use, I am sensible that I think more than I can tell you. My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your return; my afflicted heart, which desires nothing but you alone; the sighs that escape me as often as I think on you, that is, every moment; my imagination, which represents no other object than my dear prince; the complaints that I make to Heaven for the rigour of my destiny; in a word, my grief, my trouble, my torments, which give me no ease ever since I lost the sight of you, are witnesses of what I write.

Am not I unhappy to be born to love, without hope of enjoying him whom I love? This doleful thought oppresses me so much, that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me: but this sweet comfort balances my despair, and preserves my life. Tell me that you love me always; I will keep your letter carefully, and read it a thousand times a day; I will endure my afflictions with less impatience. I pray Heaven may cease to be angry at us, and grant us an opportunity to say that we love one another without fear; and that we may never cease to love! Adieu. I salute Ebn Thaher, who has so much obliged us.

The prince of Persia was not satisfied to read the letter once; he thought he had read it with too little attention, and therefore read it again with more leisure; and as he read, sometimes he uttered sighs, sometimes he wept, and sometimes he discovered transports of joy and affection, as one who was touched with what he read. In a word, he could not keep his eyes off those characters drawn by so lovely a hand, and therefore began to read it a third time. Then Ebn Thaher told him that the confident could not stay, and he ought to think of giving an answer. Alas! cried the prince, how would you have me answer so kind a letter? In what terms shall I express the trouble that I am in? My spirit is tossed with a thousand tormenting things, and my thoughts destroy one another the same momunt they are conceived, to make way for more; and so long as my body suffers by the impressions of my mind, how shall I be able to hold paper, or a reed [Footnote The Arabians, Persians, and Turks, when they write, hold the paper ordinarily upon their knees with their left hands, and write with their right, with a little reed or cane cut like our pens; this cane is hollow, and resembles our reeds, but is harder.], to write? Having spoken thus, he took out of a little desk paper, cane, and ink.

The prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave Schemselnihar's letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it open while he wrote, that, by casting his eyes upon it, he might see the better what to answer. He began to write; but the tears that fell from his eyes upon the paper obliged him several times to stop, that they might trickle down the more freely. At last he finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, Read it, I pray, said he, do me the favour to see if the disorder of my mind has allowed me to give a reasonable answer. Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselnihar's Letter.

I was swallowed up with mortal grief before I received your letter, at the sight of which I was transported with unspeakable joy; and the view of the characters written by your lovely hand enlightened my eyes more sensibly than they were darkened when yours were closed on a sudden at the feet of my rival. Those words which your courteous letter contains, are so many rays of light, which have dispelled the darkness with which my soul was obscured; they show me how much you suffer by your love to me, and that you are not ignorant of what I endure for you, and thereby comfort me in my afflictions. On the one hand, they make me shed tears in abundance; and, on the other, they inflame my heart—with a fire which supports it, and hinders my dying of grief. I have not had one moment's rest since our cruel separation. Your letter only gave me some ease. I kept a sorrowful silence till the moment I received it, and then it restored me to speech. I was buried in a profound melancholy, but it inspired me with joy, which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance. But my surprise at receiving a favour which I had not deserved was so great, that I knew not which way to begin to testify my thankfulness for it. In a word, after having kissed it as a valuable pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune. You would have me to signify to you that I always love you. Ah! though I did not love you so perfectly as I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you have given me of a love so uncommon: yes, I love you, my dear soul, and shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet fire you have kindled in my heart. I will never complain of the brisk ardour with which I find it consumes me; and how rigorous soever the grief be which I suffer, I will bear it corageously, in hopes to see you some time or other. Would to Heaven it were today; and that, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come and assure you that I die for love of you! My tears hinder me from saying any more. Adieu.

Ebn Thaher could not read these last lines without weeping. He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction. The prince shut it, and when he had sealed it, desired the trusty slave to come near, and told her, This is my answer to your dear mistress; I conjure you to carry it to her, and to salute her in my name. The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.

After Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her, went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue in which he found himself unhappily engaged. He considered that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, managed with so little discretion, that it could not be long a secret. He drew all the consequences from it which a man of good sense ought to do. Were Schemselnihar, said he to himself, an ordinary lady, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her sweetheart happy; but she is the caliph's favourite, and no man can without danger undertake to displease him. His anger will fall at first upon Schemselnihar; it will cost the prince of Persia his life; and I shall be embarked in his misfortune. In the mean time, I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve; I must then, while I can, deliver myself out of so great a danger.

He was taken up with these thoughts all the day; next morning he went to the prince of Persia, with a design to use his utmost endeavors to oblige him to conquer his passion. He actually represented to him what he had formerly done in vain; that it would be much better to make use of all his courage to overcome his inclinations for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be conquered by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was the more potent. In a word, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your amour, otherwise you run a risk of destroying yourself, with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this counsel as a friend, for which you will thank me some time or other.

The prince heard Ebn Thaher with a great deal of impatience, but suffered him, however, to speak out his mind; and then replied to him thus: Ebn Thaher, said he, do you think I can forbear to love Schemselnihar, who loves me so tenderly? She is not afraid to expose her life for me, and would you have me to regard mine? No; whatever misfortune befal me, I will love Schemselnihar to my last breath.

Ebn Thaher, being offended at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left him hastily; and, going to his own house, recalled to mind what he thought on the other day, and began to think in earnest what he should do. At the same time a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to see him: this jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar's confident came oftener to Ebn Thaher than usual, and that he was constantly with the prince of Persia, whose sickness was known to every one, though not the cause of it. The jeweller began to be suspicious, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, judged presently that he was perplexed with some important affair; and fancying that he knew the cause, he asked what Schemselniliar's confident wanted with him. Ebn Thaher, being struck with this question, dissembled, and told him, that it was a mere trifle that brought her so frequently to him. You do not tell me the truth, said the jeweller, and give me ground to think, by your dissimulation, that this trifle is an affair of more importance than at first I thought. Ebn Thaher, perceiving that his friend pressed him so much, said to him, It is true that it is an affair of the greatest consequence: I had resolved to keep it secret; but since I know how much you are my friend, I choose rather to make you my confident, than to suffer you to be in a mistake about it. I do not recommend it to you to keep the secret, for you will easily judge, by what I am going to tell you, how important it is to keep it. After this preamble, he told him the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia. You know, continued he, in what esteem I am at court, in the city, and with lords and ladies of the greatest quality; what a disgrace would it be for me, should this rash intrigue come to be discovered? But what do I say? Should not I and my family be quite destroyed? That is the thing perplexes my mind. But I have just now come to such a resolution as I ought to make: I will go immediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts; when I have secured my estate, I will retire to Balsora, and stay till the tempest I foresee blows over. The friendship I have for Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to what danger they are exposed. I pray Heaven to discover it to themselves, and to preserve them; but if their ill destiny will have their amours come to the knowledge of the caliph, I shall at least be out of the reach of his resentment; for I do not think them so wicked as to design to draw me into their misfortunes. It would be extreme ingratitude in them to do so, and a sorry reward for the good service I have done them, particularly to the prince of Persia, who may save himself and his mistress from this precipice, if he pleases: he may as easily leave Bagdad as I; absence would insensibly disengage him from a passion which will only increase whilst he continues in this place.

The jeweller was extremely surprised at what Ebn Thaher told him. What you say to me, said he, is of so great importance, that I cannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince have been capable of abandoning themselves to such a violent amour. What inclination soever they may have for one another, instead of yielding to it, they ought to resist it, and make a better use of their reason. Is it possible they can be insensible of the dangerous consequences of their correspondence? How deplorable is their blindness! I perceive all the consequences of it as well as you; but you are wise and prudent, and I approve your resolution; that is the only way to deliver yourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear. The jeweller then rose, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher.

Before the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him, by the friendship betwixt them, to speak nothing of this to any person. Be not afraid, said the jeweller; I will keep this secret on peril of my life.

Two days after, the jeweller went to Ebn Thaher's shop; and, seeing it shut, doubted not that he had executed the design he had spoken of; but, to be certain, he asked a neighbour if he knew why it was shut? The neighbour answered, that he knew not, unless Ebn Thaher was gone a journey. There was no need of his inquiring further, and immediately he thought upon the prince of Persia: Unhappy prince, said he to himself, what grief will you suffer when you hear this news? By what means will you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar? I fear you will die of despair. I have compassion on you; I must make up the loss that you have of a too timid confident.

The business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence, so that he neglected it; and though he did not know the prince of Persia, but only by having sold him some jewels, he went strait to his house, addressed himself to one of his servants, and prayed him to tell his master that he desired to speak with him about business of very great importance. The servant returned immediately to the jeweller, and introduced him to the chamber of the prince, who was leaning on a sofa, with his head upon a cushion. As soon as the prince saw him, he rose to receive him, said he was welcome, entreated him to sit down, and asked if he could serve him in any thing, or if he came to tell him any matter concerning himself. Prince, answered the jeweller, though I have not the honour to be particularly acquainted with you, yet the desire of testifying my zeal has made me take the liberty to come to your house, to impart to you some news that concerns you. I hope you will pardon my boldness, because of my good intention.

After this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and pursued it thus: Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it is a long time since the conformity of humour, and several affairs we had together, united Ebn Thaher and myself in strict friendship. I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has been employed in obliging you in all that he could. I am informed of this from himself; for he keeps nothing secret from me, nor I from him. I went just now to his shop, and was surprised to find it shut. I addressed myself to one of his neighbours, to ask the reason; he answered me, that, two days ago, Ebn Thater took his leave of him and other neighbours, offering them his service at Balsora, whither he was gone, he said, about an affair of great importance. Not being satisfied with this answer, the concern that I have for whatever belongs to him, determined me to come and ask you if you knew any thing particularly concerning his sudden departure.

At this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject, that he might come the better to his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked so as made the jeweller sensible that he was afflicted with the news. I am surprised at what you inform me, said he; there could not befal me a greater misfortune. Ah! said he, with tears in his eyes, I am undone if what you tell me be true! Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, and in whom I put all my confidence, left me! I cannot think of living after so cruel a blow.

The jeweller needed no more to convince him fully of the prince of Persia's violent passion, which Ebn Thaher had told him: mere friendship would not let him speak so; nothing but love could produce such feeling expressions.

The prince continued some moments swallowed up with these melancholy thoughts: at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his servants, Go, said he, to Ebn Timber's house, and ask any of his domestics if he be gone to Balsora; run and come back quickly, and tell me what you hear. While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to entertain the prince of Persia with indifferent subjects; but the prince gave little heed to him, for he was a prey to fatal grief. Sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher was gone; at other times he did not doubt the truth of it, when he reflected upon the discourse he had the last time he saw him, and the angry countenance with which he left him.

At last the prince's servant returned, and reported that he had spoken to one of Ebn Thaher servants, who assured him that he was gone two days before to Balsora. As I came from Ebn Thaher's house, added the servant, a slave well arrayed came to me, and, asking if I had the honour to belong to you, she told me she wanted to speak with you, begging, at the same time, that she might come along with me: she is now in the house, and I believe has a letter to give you from some person of note. The prince commanded him to bring her in immediately: he doubted not but it was Schemselnihar's confident slave, as indeed it was. The jeweller knew who she was, having seen her several times at Ebn Thaher's house. She could not have come at a better time to hinder the prince from despair.

She saluted him, and the prince of Persia did likewise salute Schemselnihar's confident. The jeweller rose as soon as he saw her appear, and stepped aside, to leave them at liberty to speak together. The confident, after conversing some time with the prince, took leave, and departed. She left him quite another thing than before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more gay; which made the jeweller know that the good slave came to tell him some news that favoured his amour.

The jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to him, smiling, I see, prince, you have important affairs at the caliph's palace. The prince of Persia was astonished and alarmed at this discourse, and answered the jeweller, why do you judge that I have affairs at the caliph's palace? I judge, replied the jeweller, by the slave that is gone forth. To whom, think you, belongs this slave? said the prince. To Schemselnihar, the caliph's favourite, answered the jeweller. I know, continued he, both the slave and her mistress, who have several times done me the honour to come to my house, and buy jewels. Besides, I know that Schemselnihar keeps nothing secret from this slave; and I have seen her go and come for several days along the streets, very much troubled, which made me imagine that it was upon some affair of consequence concerning her mistress.

The jeweller's words did much trouble the prince of Persia. He would not say so, said he to himself, if he did not suspect, or rather know, my secret. He remained silent for some time, not knowing what to answer. At length he said to the jeweller, You have told me those things which make me believe that you know yet more than you have acquainted me with. It will tend much to my quiet if I be perfectly informed; I conjure you, therefore, not to dissemble.

Then the jeweller, who desired no better, gave him a particular account of what had passed between Ebn Thaher and himself; so that he let him know that he was informed of his correspondence with Schemselnihar; and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher was afraid of the danger of being his confident in the matter, which was partly the occasion of his retiring to Balsora, to stay till the storm which he feared should he over. This he has done, added the jeweller; and I am surprised how he could determine to abandon you in the condition he informed me you was in. As for me, prince, I confess I am moved with compassion towards you, and am come to offer you my service; and if you do me the favour to accept of it, I engage myself to be as faithful to you as Ebn Thaher; besides, I promise to be more constant, I am ready to sacrifice my honour and life for you; and, in fine, that you may not doubt my sincerity, I swear, by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep your secret inviolable! Be persuaded, then, that you will find in me the friend that you have lost. This discourse encouraged the prince, and comforted him under Ebn Thaher's absence. I am very glad, said he to the jeweller, to find in you a reparation of my loss: I want words to express the obligations I am under to you. I pray God to recompense your generosity; and I accept your obliging offer with all my heart. Believe it, continued he, that Schemselnihar's confident came to speak to me concerning you; she told me that it was you who advised Ebn Thaher to go from Bagdad; these were the last words she spoke to me when she went away, and had almost persuaded me of it. But do not resent it; for I doubt not but she is deceived, after what you have told me. Prince, replied the jeweller, I have had the honour to give you a faithful account of my conversation with Ebn Thaher. It is true, when he told me he would return to Balsora, I did not oppose his design, but said he was a wise and prudent man; and, that this may not hinder you from putting confidence in me, I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal; which though you do otherwise, this shall not hinder me from keeping your secret religiously according to my oath. I have already told you, replied the prince, that I would not believe what the confident said; it is her zeal that inspired her with this groundless suspicion, and you ought to excuse it, as I do.

They continued their conversation for some time, and consulted together of convenient means to continue the prince's correspondence with Schemselnihar: they agreed to begin by disabusing the confident, who was so unjustly prepossessed against the jeweller. The prince engaged to undeceive her the first time she returned, and to entreat her to engage herself to the jeweller, that she might bring the letters, or any other information, from her mistress to him. In fine, they agreed that she ought not to come so frequently to the prince's house, because she might thereby give occasion to discover that which was of so great importance to conceal. At last the jeweller rose, and, after having again prayed the prince of Persia to have an entire confidence in him, retired.

The jeweller, returning to his house, perceived before him a letter which somebody had dropped in the street; he took it up; and, not being sealed, he opened it, and found that it contained as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

I am informed by my confident of a piece of news which troubles me no less than it does you: By losing Ebn Thaher, we have indeed lost much; but let this not hinder you, dear prince, thinking to preserve yourself. If our confident has abandoned us through a slavish fear, let us consider that it is a misfortune which we could not avoid. I confess Ebn Thaher has left us at a time when we need him most; but let us fortify ourselves by patience against this unlooked-for accident, and let us not forbear to love one another constantly. Fortify your heart against this misfortune. Nobody can obtain what they desire without trouble. Let us not discourage ourselves, but hope that Heaven will favour us; and that, after so many afflictions, we shall come to a happy accomplishment of our desires. Adieu.

While the jeweller was conversing with the prince of Persia, the confident had time to return to the palace, and tell her mistress the ill news of Ebn Thaher's departure. Schemselniliar immediately wrote this letter, and sent back her confident with it to the prince of Persia; but she negligently dropped it.

The jeweller was glad to find it; for it was a good way to set him right with the confident, and bring him to the point he desired. When he had read it, he perceived the slave, who sought it with a great deal of uneasiness, looking about every where. He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but the slave took notice of it, and ran to him. Sir, said she, I have dropped a letter which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you be pleased to restore it. The jeweller, taking no notice that he heard her, continued his way till he came to his house. He did not shut the door behind him, that the confident, who followed him, might come in. She accordingly did so; and when she came to his chamber, Sir, said she to him, you can make no use of the letter you have found; and you would make no difficulty in returning it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is directed. Besides, let me tell you, you cannot honestly keep it.

Before the jeweller answered the confident, he made her sit down, and said to her, Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and directed to the prince of Persia? The slave, who expected no such question, blushed. The question puzzles you, replied he, but I assure you I do not propose it rashly: I could have given you the letter in the street, but I suffered you to follow me, on purpose that I might discourse with you. Tell me, is it just to impute an unhappy accident to people who no ways contributed towards it? Yet this you have done, in telling the prince of Persia that it was I who counselled Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own safety. I do not intend to lose time in justifying myself to you; it is enough that the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence in this matter: I will only tell you, that instead of contributing to Ebn Thaher's departure, I have been extremely afflicted at it; not so much for my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the condition in which he left the prince of Persia, whose correspondence with Schemselnihar he has acknowledged to me. As soon as I knew certainly that Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I presented myself to the prince, in whose house you found me, to inform him of this news, and to offer him the same service which he did him; and, provided you put the same confidence in me that you did in Ebn Thaher, you may serve yourself by my assistance. Inform your mistress of what I have told you, and assure her, that if I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I will rejoice to have sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of each other.

The confident, after having heard the jeweller with great satisfaction, begged him to pardon her the ill opinion she had conceived of him, out of the zeal she had for her mistress. I am extremely glad, added she, that Schemselnihar and the prince have found you, who are a man fit to supply Ebn Thaher's place, and I shall not fail to signify to my mistress the good-will you bear her. After the confident had testified to the jeweller her joy to see him so well disposed to serve Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, the jeweller took the letter out of his bosom, and restored it to her, saying, Go, carry it quickly to the prince of Persia, and come back this way, that I may see the answer. Forget not to give him an account of our conversation.

The confident took the letter, and carried it to the prince, who answered it immediately. She returned to the jeweller's house to show him the answer, which was this:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselniliar.

Your precious letter had a great effect upon me, but not so great as I could wish. You endeavour to comfort me for the loss of Ebn Thaher; but, alas! sensible as I am of this, it is the least of my troubles! You know my malady, and that your presence only can cure me. When will the time come that I shall enjoy it without fear of being ever deprived of it? O how long does it seem to me! But shall we rather flatter ourselves that we may see one another? You command me to preserve myself; I will obey, since I have renounced my own will to follow yours. Adieu.

After the jeweller had read this letter, he gave it again to the confident, who said, when she was going away, I will tell my mistress to put the same confidence in you that she did in Ebn Thaher, and you shall hear of me to-morrow. Accordingly, next day she returned with a pleasant countenance. Your very look, said he to her, informs me that you have brought Schemselnihar to what you wished. That is true, said the confident, sand you shall hear how I effected it. Yesterday, continued she, I found Schemselnihar expecting me with impatience; I gave her the prince of Persia's letter, which she read with tears in her eyes; and when she had done, I observed she had abandoned herself to her usual sorrow. Madam, said I, it is doubtless Ebn Thaher's removal that troubles you; but suffer me to conjure you, in the name of God, not to concern yourself any further about that matter. We have found another who offers to oblige you with as much zeal, and, what is yet more important, with greater courage. Then I mentioned you, continued the slave, and acquainted her with the motive which made you go to the prince of Persia's house. In short, I assured her that you would inviolably keep the secret betwixt her and the prince of Persia, and that you was* resolved to favour their amours with all your might. She seemed to me much relieved by my discourse. Ah! what obligations, said she, are the prince of Persia and I under to that honest man you speak of? I must see him, that I may hear from his own mouth what you tell me, and thank him for such an unheard-of piece of generosity towards persons with whom he is no way obliged to concern himself. A sight of him will please me; and I will not omit any thing to confirm him in those good sentiments. Do not fail to bring him to-morrow. Therefore, pray, sir, go with me lo the palace.

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.