Chapter XXII: Part 22

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 made him forget all his former troubles. 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 them, and at last brought him to the house, where they conversed together until Schemselnihar came.

They did not stay long for this passionate lover; she came after evening prayer with her confidant and two other slaves. It is impossible to express the excess of joy that seized those two lovers when they saw one another: they sat down together upon a sofa, looking upon one another for some time, without being able to speak, they were so much overjoyed, but when their speech returned, they soon made up for their silence. They said to each other so many tender things, as made the jeweller, the confidant, and the two other slaves weep. The jeweller, however, restrained his tears, to attend to the collation, which he brought in himself. The lovers ate and drank little, after which they sat down again upon the sofa. Schemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other instrument. --The jeweller, who took care to provide all that could please her, brought her a lute; she spent some time in tuning it, and then sung.

While Schemselnihar was 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 had brought with him, came in a great fright, to tell him, that some people were breaking in at the gate, that he asked who it was, but instead of any 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. No sooner was he got into the court, than he saw, notwithstanding the darkness of the night, a company of men, armed with bayonets and scimitars, who had broken the gate, and came directly towards him. He stood close to a wall for fear of his life, and saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them. Finding he could give no great assistance to the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he contented himself with lamenting their fate, and fled for refuge to a neighbour’s house, who was not yet gone to bed. He did not doubt but this unexpected violence was by the caliph’s order, who, he thought, had been informed of his favourite’s meeting the prince of Persia there. He heard a great noise in his own house, which continued till midnight; and when all was quiet, as he thought, he desired 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 did you manage, 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 so soon as I heard the noise. But it was not the watch who broke into your house; they were robbers, who, within these few days, robbed another house in the neighbourhood; they, doubtless, had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and had that in view.

The jeweller thought his slave’s conjecture probable enough; he visited the house, and saw that the robbers had taken all the furniture out of the chamber where he received Schemselnihar and her lover; that they had also carried off the gold and silver plate, 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 shall tell them that the robbers have broken into my house, and robbed me of all they had 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 will be 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 was very much attached to him, endeavoured to comfort him. As to Schemselnihar, said he, the robbers probably would content themselves with stripping 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 the caliph will never know this adventure. As for the loss your friends have sustained, that is a misfortune that you could not avoid. They know very well the robbers are 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 been yet 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 will have enough left.

Waiting till day, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the street door, which was broken, as well as he could; after which he returned to his usual residence with his slave, making melancholy reflections upon what had happened. 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 will, perhaps, cost me my life!

It was scarce day when the report of the robbery spread through the city, and a great many of his friends and neighbours came to his house to express their concern for his misfortune, but were curious to know the particulars. He thanked them for their affection, and had at least the consolation, that he heard nobody mention 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 eat a bit. About noon one of his slaves came to tell him there was a man at the gate, whom he knew not, that desired to speak with him. The jeweller, not choosing to receive a stranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak with him. Though you do not know me, said the man, yet I know you, and I am come to talk to you about an important affair. The jeweller desired him to come 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 very well, answered the stranger; follow me, and 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, said he to the jeweller, I see you have told me the truth; I will carry you to a place where we shall be better accommodated. --When he had said this, he went on, and walked all the rest of the day without stopping. The jeweller being weary with walking, vexed to see night approach, and that the stranger went on without telling him where he was going, began to lose his patience, when they came to a path which led to the Tigris; and as soon as they came to the river, they embarked in a little boat, and went over. The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he had never been before in his life: and after he had brought him through I know not how many by-streets, he stopped at a gate, which he opened. He caused the jeweller to go in: then he shut and bolted the gate with a huge iron bolt, and conducted him to a chamber, where there were ten other men, all of them as great strangers to the jeweller as he that brought him hither.

These ten men received the jeweller without any compliments. They bade him sit down, of which he had great need: for he was not only out of breath with walking so far, but the fear he was in, to find himself with people whom he thought he had reason to be afraid of, would have disabled him from standing. They waited for their leader to go to supper, and as soon as he came it was served up. They washed their hands, obliged the jeweller to do the like, and to sit at table with them. After supper, the men asked him if he knew whom he spoke to? He answered, No, and that he knew not the place he was in. Tell us your last night’s 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 yester-night, told it us; but we would know it from your own mouth. The jeweller needed no more to inform him that he spoke to the robbers who had broken into and plundered his house. Gentlemen, said he, I am much troubled for that young man and lady; can you give me any tidings of them?

Upon the jeweller’s inquiry of the thieves, if they knew any thing of the young man and the young lady, they answered, Be not concerned for them --they are safe and well. So saying, they showed him two closets, where they assured him they were separately shut up. They added, We are informed you alone know what relates to them, which we no sooner came to understand, but we showed them all imaginable respect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated them with all possible kindness on your account. We answer for the same, proceeded they, for your own person; you may put unlimited confidence in us.

The jeweller being encouraged at this, and overjoyed to hear that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage the robbers yet farther in their interest. He commended them, flattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions. --Gentlemen, said he, I must confess I have not the honour to know 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. Not to mention your great humanity, I am fully persuaded now that persons of your character are capable of keeping a secret faithfully; and none are so fit to undertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good issue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity. Confiding in these qualities, which are so much your due, I hesitate not to tell you my whole history, with that of those two persons you found in my house, with all the fidelity you desire me.

After the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the confidence of the robbers, 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 robbers were greatly astonished at all the particulars they heard, and could not forbear crying out, How! is it possible that the young man should be the illustrious Ali Ebn Becar, prince of Persia, and the young lady the fair and celebrated beauty 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 wish not to be known.

Upon this assurance of their quality, the robbers went immediately, one after another, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring their pardon, and protesting that nothing of the kind would have happened to them, had they been informed of the quality of their persons before they broke into the house; and that they would by their future conduct endeavour to make amends for the crime they had thus ignorantly committed. Then turning to the jeweller, they told him, they were heartily sorry they could not restore to him all that had been taken from him, part of it being no longer in their possession; but as for what remained, if he would content himself with his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hand.

The jeweller was overjoyed at the favour done him, and after the robbers had delivered to him the plate, they required of the prince, Schemselnihar, and him, to promise them 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. The thieves, satisfied with this, immediately went out with them.

By the way, the jeweller, uneasy at not seeing the confidant 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 the river, and brought to the place from whence they were just now come.

Schemselnihar and the jeweller had no farther discourse: they let the robbers conduct them with the prince to the river’s side, when the robbers immediately took boat, and carried them over to the other side.

While the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, were landing, they heard the noise of the horse-patrol coming towards them, just as the boat arrived, and had conveyed the robbers back by dint of rowing.

The commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, who they were, and whence they came so late. Frightened as they were, and apprehensive of saying any thing that might prejudice them, they could not speak; but at length it was necessary they should: the jeweller found his tongue, his mind being freer, and said, Sir, I can assure you, we are very honest people of the city, and that those people who have just landed us, and are got back to the other side of the water, are thieves, who having last night broken open the house where we were, pillaged it, and afterwards carried us to their quarters, where, by fair words, we prevailed on them to let us have our liberty; and they brought us hither. They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from us. At which words he showed the parcel of plate he had recovered.

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

This question embarrassed them so much, that neither of them could answer; till at length Schemselnihar extricated them from their difficulty, and taking the commander aside, told him who she was; which he no sooner knew, but he alighted with great expressions of respect and politeness, and ordered his men to bring two boats.

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 boat; with orders to accompany each of them whithersoever they were bound. The two boats took different routes; but we shall at present speak only of that wherein was the prince and jeweller.

The prince, to save his guides trouble, bid them land the jeweller at his house, naming the place. The guide, by this direction, stopped just before the caliph’s palace, which put both him and the jeweller into a mortal fright, though he durst not show it: although they had heard the commander’s orders to his men, they could not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard, to be 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 caliph’s guard, who assigned them two soldiers to conduct them by land to the prince’s house, which was at some distance from the river. They arrived there, but so tired and weary that they could hardly move.

The prince being come home, with the fatigue of his journey, and this misadventure to himself and Schemselnihar, which deprived him of all hope of ever seeing her more, fell into a swoon on his sofa. While the greatest part of his servants were endeavouring to recover him, the rest gathered about the jeweller, and begged him to tell them what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had occasioned them such inexpressible uneasiness.

Whilst the greatest part of the prince’s domestics were endeavouring to recover him from his swoon, others of them were got about the jeweller, desiring to know what had happened to their lord. The jeweller, who took care to discover nothing to them that was not proper for them to know, told them it was an extraordinary case, but that it was not a time to relate it, and that they would do better to go and assist the prince. By good fortune the prince came to himself that moment, and those that had but just before required his history with so much earnestness, began to keep a respectful distance, and pay that respect which was due from them.

Although the prince had in some measure recovered his senses, he continued so weak, that he could not open his mouth to speak. He answered only by signs, even to his nearest relations, when they 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, and holding forth his right hand; but when he saw he was laden with the bundle of plate which the thieves had returned to him, he made a sign to his servants that they should take it and carry it to his house.

The jeweller had been expected with great impatience by his family the day he went forth with a man who came to ask for him, and whom he did not know; but now he was quite given over, and it was no longer doubted but some disaster had befallen him. His wife, children, and servants, were in the greatest alarm, and were lamenting him. When he arrived, their joy was very great; yet they were troubled to see that he was so much altered in the short interval, that he was hardly to be known. This was occasioned by the great fatigue of the preceding day, and the fears he had undergone all night, which would not let him sleep. Finding himself much disordered, he continued at home two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends to visit him.

The third day, finding himself something better, he thought he might recover strength by going abroad to take the air; and therefore went to the shop of a rich merchant his acquaintance, with whom he continued long in discourse. As he was rising to take leave of his friend and go home, he observed a woman making a sign to him, whom he presently knew to be the confidant of Schemselnihar. Between fear and joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she followed him, as he feared she would, the place they were in being by no means proper to hold a conversation. As he walked a little faster than ordinary, she not being able to overtake him, every now and then she called out to him to stay.

He heard her; but after what had happened, he did not think fit to speak to her in public, for fear of giving cause to suspect that he was connected with Schemselnihar. It was known to every body in Bagdad that this woman belonged to her, and executed all her little commissions. He continued the same pace, and at length came to a mosque, where he knew but few people came. He entered it, and she followed him, and they had a long conversation together, without any body overhearing them.

Both the jeweller and confidant expressed mutual joy at seeing each other, after the strange adventure of the robbers, and their reciprocal apprehension for each other, without regarding their own particular persons.

The jeweller wished her to relate to him how she escaped with the two slaves, and what she knew of Schemselnihar from the time he lost sight of her; but so great was her eagerness to know what had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that he found himself obliged to satisfy her. Having given you the detail you desired, said he, oblige me in your turn, which she did in the following manner:

When I first saw the robbers, said she, I hastily imagined that they were soldiers of the caliph’s guard, and that the caliph being informed of Schemselnihar’s going out, had sent them to take away her life, the life of the prince, and of us all. Under this impression I immediately got up to the leads of your house, when the thieves entered the chamber where the prince and Schemselnihar were, and I was soon after followed by that lady’s two slaves. From leads to leads, we came at last to a house of very honest people, who received us with much civility, and with whom we lodged that night.

Next morning, after thanking the master of the house for our good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar’s palace, where we entered in great disorder and distress, because 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 one of her female 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 small private gate, I espied a little boat on the canal which seemed driven by the stream. I called to the waterman and desired him to row up each side of the river, and look if he could see a lady; 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 was come up, the two men helped the woman to rise, and then it was I knew her to be Schemselnihar. I cannot express my joy at seeing her.

I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat; she had great need of my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When she was landed, she whispered to me in a tone expressive of her affliction, and bid me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of gold and give to the two soldiers that had accompanied her. I committed her to the two slaves to support her, and having ordered the two soldiers to wait for me a moment, I took the purse, and returned instantly: I gave it to the soldiers, and having paid the waterman, shut the door.

I then followed my lady, and overtook her before she was got up to her chamber. We immediately undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been, before she seemed ready to give up the ghost all the rest of the night. The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been greatly fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her strength. The other two women and I gave her all the assistance in our power, and that she could expect from our attention. She persisted in taking nothing that we offered her: and we should have despaired of her life, if I had not at last perceived that the wine which we gave her every now and then had a sensible effect in restoring her strength. By importunity we overcame her obstinacy, and at length prevailed with her to eat.

When she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only wept, groaned, and sighed, I begged of her to tell me how she had escaped out of the hands of the robbers. Why would you require of me, said she, with a profound sigh, to renew my grief? Would to God the robbers had taken away my life, rather than preserved it; my misfortunes would then have had an end, whereas I live but to increase my sufferings.

Madam, replied I, I beg you would not refuse me this favour. You cannot but know that the wretched feel a consolation in relating their greatest misfortunes; what I ask would alleviate yours, if you will have the goodness to gratify me.

Hear then, said she, the most afflicting adventure that could possibly have happened to one so deeply in love as myself, who considered myself as at the utmost point of my wishes. You must know, when I first saw the robbers enter, sword in hand, I considered it as the last moment of our lives; but death was not an object of regret, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia. However, instead of murdering us, as I expected, two of the robbers were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods they found in the house. When they had done, and got their bundles upon their backs, they went out, and carried us along with them.

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

When we were come to the place whither they were going, a new alarm seized us. They gathered about us, and after having considered my dress, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to doubt that I disguised my quality. Dancers, said they, do not use to be dressed as you are. Tell us truly who you are.

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

The jeweller was brought next morning, who thinking to oblige us, as he really did, declared to the robbers the whole truth. They immediately came and asked my pardon, and I believe did the like to the prince, who was shut up in another room. They protested to me they would not have broken open the house where we were, had they known it was the jeweller’s. They soon after took us, (the prince, the jeweller, and myself,) carried us to the river side, put us aboard the boat, and rowed us across the water: but we were no sooner landed, than a party of horse patrol came up to us.

The robbers fled: I took the commander aside, and told him my name, and that the night before I had been seized by robbers, who forced me along with them; but having been told who I was, released me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account. He alighted out of respect to me, and, expressing great joy for being able to oblige me, he caused two boats to be brought, putting me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, escorted me hither, and the prince and jeweller, with two others, in another, to conduct them home in safety. My guides have conducted me hither; but what is become of the prince and his friend I cannot tell.

I trust, added she, melting into tears, no harm has happened to them since our separation; and I do not doubt, but the prince’s concern for me is equal to mine for him. The jeweller, to whom we have been so much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss he has sustained on our account. Fail not, therefore, to take two purses of a thousand pieces of gold in each, and carry them to him to-morrow morning in my name, and be sure to inquire after the prince’s welfare.

When my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to the last article of inquiring into the prince’s welfare, to persuade her to endeavour to triumph over her passion, after the danger she had so lately escaped almost by miracle. --Make no answer to me, said she, but do what I command you.

I was obliged to be silent, and am come hither to obey her commands. I have been at your house, and not finding you at home, and uncertain as I was of finding where you were said to be, was about going to the prince of Persia; but not daring to attempt the journey, I have left the two purses with a particular friend of mine, and if you will wait here, I will go and fetch them immediately.

The confidant returned quickly to the jeweller in the mosque, where she had left him, and giving him the two purses, bid him out of them satisfy his friends. They are much more than is necessary, said the jeweller, but I dare not refuse the present from so good and generous a lady to her very humble servant; but I beseech you to assure her from me, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance of her goodness. He then agreed with the confidant, that she should find him at the house where she had first seen him, whenever she had occasion to impart any thing from Schemselnihar, or to hear any tidings of the prince of Persia: and so they parted.

The jeweller returned home very well satisfied, not only that he had got wherewithal so fully to satisfy his friends, but also to think that no person in Bagdad could possibly know that the prince and Schemselnihar had been in his house when it was robbed. It is true, he had acquainted the thieves with it, but their secresy he thought he might very well depend on: they, he imagined, had not sufficient communication with the world to fear any danger from their divulging it. Next morning he visited the friends who had obliged him, and found no difficulty in satisfying them. He had money in hand to furnish his other house, in which he placed servants. Thus he forgot all his past danger, and the next evening waited on the prince of Persia.

The prince’s domestics told the jeweller, that he came in very luckily, for that the prince ever since he saw him was reduced to such a state that his life was in danger, and they had not been able to get a word out of him. They introduced him softly into his chamber, and he found him in a condition that excited his pity. He was lying upon his bed, with his eyes shut; but when the jeweller saluted him, and exhorted him to take courage, he recollected him, and opened his eyes, and gave him a look that sufficiently declared the greatness of his affliction, infinitely beyond what he felt after he first saw Schemselnihar. He took and grasped him by the hand, to testify his friendship, and told him in a feeble voice, that he was extremely obliged to him, for coming so far to seek one so unhappy and wretched.

Prince, replied the jeweller, mention not, I beseech you, any obligations you have to me: I wish the good offices I have endeavoured to do you had had a better effect: but at present, let us talk only of your health; which, in the state I see you, I fear you greatly injure, by unreasonably abstaining from proper nourishment.

The prince’s servants took this opportunity to tell him, it was with the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on their master to take the smallest refreshment, and that for some time he had taken nothing at all. This obliged the jeweller to entreat the prince to let his servants bring him something to eat; which he obtained after much importunity.

After the prince had eaten more than he had hitherto done, through the persuasion of the jeweller, he commanded the servants to leave him alone with his friend. When the room was clear, he said, Besides my misfortune that distracts me, I have been exceedingly concerned to think what a loss you have suffered on my account; and it is but just I should make you some recompense; but before I do this, after begging your pardon a thousand times, I conjure you to tell me whether you have learnt any thing of Schemselnihar, since I had the misfortune to be parted from her.

Here the jeweller, instructed by the confidant, related to him all that he knew of Schemselnihar’s arrival at her palace, her state of health from that time till she recovered, and how she had sent her confidant to him to inquire after his welfare.

To all this the prince replied only by sighs and tears; he made an effort to get up, and calling his servants, went himself to his wardrobe, and having caused several bundles of rich furniture and plate to be packed up, he ordered them to be carried to the jeweller’s house.

The jeweller would fain have declined this kind offer: but although he represented that Schemselnihar had already made him more than sufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince would be obeyed. The jeweller was therefore obliged to make all possible acknowledgments, and protested how much he was confounded at his highness’s liberality. He would then have taken his leave, but the prince desired him to stay, and so they passed a good part of the night in talking together.

Next morning, the jeweller waited again on the prince, who made him sit down by him. You know, said he, there is an end proposed in all things: the end the lover proposes, is, to enjoy the beloved object in spite of all opposition. If once he loses that hope, he must not think to live. Such is my hard case; for when I had been twice at the very point of fulfilling my desires, I was on a sudden torn from her I loved in the most cruel manner imaginable. It remains for me only to think of death, and I had sought it, but that our holy religion forbids suicide; but I need not anticipate it; I need not wait long. Here he stopped, and vented his passion in groans, signs, sobs, and tears, which flowed plentifully.

The jeweller, who knew no better way of diverting him from his despair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving him some shadow of hope, told him, he feared the confidant might be come from her lady, and therefore it would not be proper to stay any longer from home. I will let you go, said the prince, but conjure you that if you see her, you recommend to her, to assure Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do shortly, I shall love her to the last moment, even in the grave.

The jeweller returned home, and waited in expectation of seeing the confidant, who came some hours after, but all in tears, and in great affliction. The jeweller, alarmed, asked her what was the matter. She answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself and he were all ruined. Hear the sad news, said she, as it was told me just upon my entering the palace after I had left you.

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

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

The confidant added to what she had said before to the jeweller, that it was proper he should go immediately and acquaint the prince with the whole affair, that he might be prepared for every event, and keep faithful to the common cause. She went away in haste, without staying for any answer.

What answer could the jeweller have made in the condition he was in? He stood motionless as if thunderstruck. He found, however, that there was no time to be lost, and immediately went to give the prince an account. He addressed himself to him with an air that sufficiently showed the bad news he brought him. Prince, said he, arm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive the most terrible shock that ever you had to encounter.

Tell me in a few words, said the prince, what is the matter, without keeping me in suspense: I am prepared to die if necessary. Then the jeweller told him all that he had learnt from the confidant. You see, continued he, your destruction is inevitable. Up, rise, save yourself by flight, for the time is precious. You, of all men, must not expose yourself to the anger of the caliph, and should much less confess any thing in the midst of torments.

At these words, the prince was almost ready to expire through grief, affliction, and fear; however, he recovered himself, and asked the jeweller, what resolution he would advise him to take in this conjuncture, every moment of which was to be made use of. The jeweller told him, he thought nothing remained but that he should immediately take horse, and haste away towards Anbar, [82] that he might get thither before day. Take what servants and swift horses you think necessary, continued he, and suffer me to escape with you.

The prince, seeing nothing more to be done, immediately gave orders to prepare such an equipage as would be least troublesome, took money and jewels, and having taken leave of his mother, he departed with the jeweller, and such servants as he had chosen.

They travelled all that day and the night following without stopping; till at length, about two or three hours before daybreak, both their horses and themselves being spent with so long a journey, they stopt to rest themselves.

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

When the thieves were gone from them, the prince said to the jeweller, What think you of our adventure and condition? Had I not better have tarried in Bagdad, and awaited my death? Prince, replied the jeweller, it is the decree of heaven that we should thus suffer. It has pleased God to add affliction to affliction, and we must not murmur at it, but receive his chastisements with submission. Let us stay no longer here, but seek for some retreat where we may perhaps be relieved.

Let me die, said the prince; for what signifies it whether I die here or elsewhere? perhaps, while we are talking, Schemselnihar is no more; and why should I endeavour to live after she is dead? The jeweller by his entreaty at length prevailed on him, and they had not gone far before they came to a mosque, which was open; they entered it, and passed there the remainder of the night.

At daybreak a man came into the mosque. When he had ended his prayer, as he turned about to go away, he perceived the prince and jeweller, who were sitting in a corner. He came up to them, and after having saluted them with a great deal of civility, said, I perceive you are strangers.

The jeweller answered, You are not deceived; we have been robbed to-night in coming from Bagdad, as you may see, and are retired hither for shelter, but we know not whom to apply to. If you think fit to come along with me to my house, answered the man, I will give you all the assistance in my power.

Upon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and whispered him, This man, as you perceive, sir, does not know us; and we have reason to fear, that somebody else may come who may know us. We cannot, I think, refuse his offer. Do as you please, said the prince; I am willing to be guided by your discretion.

The man observing the prince and jeweller consulting together, and thinking they made some difficulty to accept his offer, asked them if they were resolved what to do. The jeweller answered, We are ready to follow you; all that we make a difficulty about is, that we are ashamed to appear thus naked.

Fortunately the man had it in his power to cover them sufficiently till they could get to his house; and they were no sooner got to the house, but he brought forth a very handsome suit for each of them. As he thought they must be hungry, and wish to be alone, he had several dishes brought to them by a slave; but they ate little, especially the prince, who was so dejected and dispirited, that he gave the jeweller cause to fear he would die. Their host visited them several times in the day, and in the evening, as he knew they wanted rest, he left them early; but he was no sooner in bed, than the jeweller was forced to call him again to assist at the death of the prince of Persia. He found him breathe short, and with difficulty, which gave him just reason to fear he had but few minutes to live. Coming near him, the prince said, It is all over, and I am glad you are witness of my last words. I quit life with a great deal of satisfaction; I need not tell you the reason, for you know it already. All my concern is, that I cannot die in the arms of my dear mother, who has always loved me tenderly, and for whom I had a reciprocal affection. She will undoubtedly not be a little grieved that she could not close my eyes, and bury me with her own hands. Let her know how much I was concerned at this, and pray her in my name to have my body transported to Bagdad, that she may have an opportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my departed soul with her prayers. He then took notice of the master of the house, and thanked him for his kindness in taking him in; and after desiring him to let his body rest with him till it should be conveyed to Bagdad, he expired.

The day after the prince’s death, the jeweller took the opportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and arrived there soon after in safety. He first went home to change his clothes, and then hastened to the prince’s palace, where every body was alarmed at not seeing the prince with him. He desired them to acquaint the prince’s mother, that he wished to speak with her, and it was not long before he was introduced to her in a hall, with several of her women about her. Madam, said he to her, with an air that sufficiently denoted the ill news he brought, God preserve you, and shower down the choicest of his blessings upon you. You cannot be ignorant that he alone disposes of us at his pleasure.

The princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas! you bring me the news of my son’s death. She and her women, at the same time, set up such a hideous cry as brought fresh tears into the jeweller’s eyes. She tormented and grieved herself a long while, before she would suffer him to resume his story. At length, she checked her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue, without concealing from her the least circumstance of such a melancholy separation. He satisfied her, and when he had done, she farther demanded of him, if her son, the prince, had not given him in charge something more particular in his last moments. He assured her his last words were, that it was the greatest concern to him, that he must die so far distant from his dear mother; and that the only thing he wished was, that she would be pleased to have his corpse transported to Bagdad. Accordingly, early next morning the princess set out with her women, and great part of her slaves, to bring her son’s body to her own palace.

When the jeweller, whom she kept with her, saw she was gone, he returned home very sad and melancholy, at the reflection that so accomplished and amiable a prince was thus cut off in the flower of his age.

As he walked towards his house, dejected and musing, he saw a woman in mourning, drowned in tears, standing before him: on lifting up his eyes, he presently knew her to be Schemselnihar’s confidant. At the sight of her his tears began to flow afresh, but he said nothing to her; and going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down; when the jeweller beginning the conversation, asked the confidant, with a deep sigh, if she had heard of the death of the prince of Persia, and if it was on his account that she grieved. Alas! answered she, what, is that charming prince then dead? He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar. Beauteous souls! continued she, in whatsoever place ye now are, ye must be happy that your loves will no more be interrupted. Your bodies were an obstacle to your wishes, but heaven has delivered you from them; ye may now form the closest union.

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar’s death, and had not observed the confidant was in mourning, suffered fresh grief at hearing this news. Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he. She is dead, replied the confidant, weeping afresh; and it is for her I wear these weeds. The circumstances of her death were extraordinary, continued she, and deserve to be known to you; but before I give you an account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of Persia, whom, with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.

The jeweller then gave the confidant that satisfaction she desired; and after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince’s mother, to bring her son’s body to Bagdad, she began and said, You have not forgot that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace; and it is true, as we had all the reason in the world to believe, he had been informed of the amour betwixt her and the prince, by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart. You will imagine, he would be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar, and express great tokens of jealousy and revenge against the prince: but this was by no means the case. He pitied Schemselnihar, and in some measure blamed himself for what had happened, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without being attended by his eunuchs. This is the only conclusion that could be drawn from his extraordinary behaviour towards her, as you will hear.

He received her with an open countenance; and when he observed that the melancholy which oppressed her did not lessen her beauty, (for she appeared thus before him without surprise or fear,) with a goodness worthy himself, he said, Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your appearing before me thus, with an air which gives me infinite pain. You must needs be sensible how much I have always loved you, and be convinced of the sincerity of my passion by the continued demonstrations I have given you of it. I can never change my mind, for I love you more than ever. You have enemies, Schemselnihar, proceeded he, and those enemies have insinuated things against your conduct; but all they have said against you has not made the least impression upon me. Shake off then this melancholy, and prepare to entertain me with some diverting and amusing conversation this night, after your accustomed manner. He said many other obliging things to hen and then desired her to step into a magnificent apartment near her own, and wait for him.

The afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the kindness the caliph had for her; but the more she thought herself obliged to him, the more she was concerned that she was so far removed, perhaps for ever, from her prince, without whom she could not live.

This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar, continued the confidant, was whilst I was come to speak with you, and I learned the particulars of it from my companions who were present. But I had no sooner left you, proceeded she, than I went to my dear mistress again, and was eye-witness to what happened in the evening. I found her in the apartment I told you of; and as she thought I came from you, she came up to me, and, whispering me in the ear, said, I am much obliged to you for the service you have done me, but feel it will be the last. She said no more; but I was not in a place proper to offer any thing to comfort her.

The caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments, which her women played upon, and the collation was immediately served up. He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down with him on the sofa. She put such a force upon herself to please him, that she expired a few minutes after. In short, she was hardly set down, but she fell backwards: the caliph believed she had only fainted, and so we all thought; but she never recovered, and in this manner we lost her.