Queen Badoura might have imagined by the example of her son Amgiad, that prince Assad, who was not less virtuous, would not receive more favourably a declaration of love like that which had been made to his brother. Yet that did not hinder her persisting in so abominable a design; she the next day wrote him a billet, which she trusted to an old woman who had access to the palace, to convey to him.
The old woman watched her opportunity to give it him as he was coming from the council-chamber, where he presided that day in his turn; the prince took it, and reading it, fell into such a rage, that, without giving himself time to finish it, he drew his sabre, and punished the old woman as she deserved. He ran presently to his mother queen Haiatalnefous’ apartment with the billet in his hand; he would have shown it to her, but she did not give him time, crying out, I know what you mean; you are as impertinent as your brother Amgiad; begone! and never come into my presence again.
Assad stood as one thunderstruck at these words, which he never expected. He was so transported with rage, that he had like to have given very fatal demonstrations of his anger; but he contained himself, and withdrew without making any reply, fearing, if he staid, he might say something unworthy the greatness of his soul. Amgiad had not mentioned to him the billet which he received the preceding day, and finding by what his mother had said to him that she was altogether as criminal as queen Haiatalnefous, he went to his brother, to chide him for not communicating the hated secret to him, and to mingle his sorrow with his.
The two queens, rendered desperate by finding in the two princes so much virtue, which should have had an influence on them, renounced all sentiments of nature and mothers, and conspired together to destroy them: they made their women believe the two princes had attempted their virtue: they counterfeited the matter to the life by their tears, cries, and curses; and lay in the same bed, as if the resistance they pretended to have made had reduced them almost to death’s door.
When Camaralzaman returned to the palace from hunting, he was very much surprised to find them in bed together, all in tears, acting despondency so well, that he was touched with compassion. He asked them with earnestness what had happened to them.
At this question the dissembling queens wept and gobbed more bitterly than before; and after he had pressed them again and again to tell him, queen Badoura, at last answered him: Sir, our grief is so well founded, that we ought not to see the light of the sun, nor live a day, after the violence that has been offered us by the unparalleled brutality of the princes your sons. They formed a horrid design, encouraged by your absence, and had the boldness and insolence to attempt our honour. Your majesty will excuse us from saying any more; you may guess the rest by our affliction.
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PRINCE AMGIAD AND PRINCE ASSAD.
The king sent for the two princes, and had killed them both with his own hand, if old king Armanos, his father-in-law, who was by, had not held his hand. Son, said he, what are you going to do? Will you stain your hands and your palace with your own blood? There are other ways of punishing them, if they are really guilty.
He endeavoured thus to appease him, and desired him to examine whether they did indeed commit the crime of which they were accused.
It was no hard thing for Camaralzaman to be so much master of himself as not to butcher his own children: he ordered them to be put under arrest, and sent for an emir called Giondar, whom he commanded to carry them out of the city, and put them to death, at a great distance, and in what place he pleased, but not to see him again, unless he brought their clothes with him, as a token of his having executed his orders.
Giondar travelled with them all night, and early next morning made them alight, telling them, with tears in his eyes, the commands he had received. Believe me, princes, said he, it is a trying duty imposed on me by your father, to execute this cruel order: would to Heaven I could avoid it! The princes replied, Do your duty; we know well you are not the cause of our deaths, and forgive you with all our hearts.
Then they embraced, and bade each other the last adieu with so much tenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one another’s arms. Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself for the fatal stroke. Begin with me, Giondar, said he, that I may not have the trouble to see my dear brother Amgiad die. Amgiad opposed it; and Giondar could not, without weeping more than before, be witness of this dispute between them; which showed how perfect and sincere their friendship was.
At last they thus determined the contest, desiring Giondar to tie them together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him to give them the fatal stroke at one blow. Do not refuse the comfort of dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth have shared every thing, even their innocence, said the generous princes.
Giondar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to breast; and when he had placed them so as he thought he might strike the blow with more surety, and cut off their heads at once, he asked them if they had any thing to command him before they died.
We have only one thing to desire of you, replied the princes; which is, to assure the king our father, at your return, that we are innocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he is not well informed of the truth of the crime with which we are accused.
Giondar promised to do what they would have him, and drew his sabre: his horse being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the sabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran away with all speed into the country.
He was a very valuable good horse, and so richly harnessed, that the emir could not bear the loss of him. This accident so troubled him, that instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre, and ran after his horse to catch him again.
The horse gallopped on before him, and led him several miles out of his way into a wood. Giondar followed him, and the horse’s neighing roused a lion that was asleep. The lion started up, and instead of running after the horse, made directly towards Giondar, who thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life and avoid the lion. He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him in view, pursuing him among the trees. In this extremity he said to himself, Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to show the innocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and now, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself.
While Giondar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent thirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble resolution to submit to the king their father’s cruel order.
Prince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far off. Ah! brother, said Assad, we have so little time to live, what need have we to quench our thirst? We can bear it a few minutes longer.
Amgiad, taking no notice of his brother’s remonstrance, unbound himself, and unbound the prince his brother whether he would or no. They went to the spring, and having refreshed themselves, heard the roaring of the lion. They also heard Giondar’s dreadful cries in the wood, where he and the horse were. Amgiad took up Giondar’s sabre which lay on the ground, saying to Assad, Come, brother, let us go and help poor Giondar; perhaps we may arrive soon enough to deliver him from the danger in which he now is.
The two princes ran to the wood, and entered it just as the lion was going to fall on Giondar. The beast, seeing prince Amgiad, advancing towards him with a sabre in his hand, left his prey, and came against him with fury. The prince met him intrepidly, and gave him a blow so forcibly and dexterously, that it felled him to the ground.
When Giondar saw that he owed his life to the two princes, he threw himself at their feet, and thanked them, for the great obligation he had to them, in words which sufficiently showed his gratitude. Princes, said he, rising up and kissing their hands, with tears in his eyes, God forbid that ever I should attempt any thing against your lives, after you have so kindly and bravely saved mine. It shall never be said, that the emir Giondar was guilty of such ingratitude.
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The service we have done you, answered the princes, ought not to hinder you from executing the orders you have received; let us first catch your horse again, and then return to the place where you left us. They were at no great trouble to take the horse, whose mettle was abated with running. When they had restored him to Giondar, and were near the fountain, they begged of him, and argued with him to do as their father had commanded him; but all to no purpose. I only take liberty to desire you, said Giondar, and I pray you not to deny me, that you will divide my clothes between you, and give me yours, and go to such a distance, that the king your father may never hear of you more.
The princes were forced to comply with his request. Each of them gave him his clothes, and covered themselves with what he could spare them of his. He also gave them all the money he had about him, and took leave of them.
When the emir Giondar parted from the princes, he passed through the wood, where Amgiad had killed the lion, in whose blood he dipped their clothes; which having done, he proceeded on his way to the capital city of the isle of Ebene.
At his arrival there, king Camaralzaman asked if he had done what he ordered him. Giondar replied, See, sir, the proofs of my obedience; giving him, at the same time, the princes’ clothes.
How did they take the punishment I commanded to be executed on them? Giondar answered, With wonderful constancy, sir, and resignation to the decrees of Heaven; which showed how sincerely they made profession of their religion: but particularly with great respect towards your majesty, and an inconceivable submission to the sentence of death. We die innocent, said they; but we do not murmur; we take our death from the hand of Heaven, and forgive our father; for we know very well he has not been rightly informed of the truth.
Camaralzaman, sensibly touched at emir Giondar’s relation, bethought himself of putting his hand in their pockets: he began with prince Amgiad’s, where he found a billet open, which he read. He no sooner knew that queen Haiatalnefous writ it, as well by a lock of her hair which was in it, and by the hand-writing, but he was chilled with horror. He then trembling put his hand into that of Assad; and finding there queen Badoura’s billet, his surprise was so great and sudden, that he fainted.
Never was grief equal to Camaralzaman’s, when he was recovered from his fit. Barbarous father, cried he, what hast thou done? Thou hast murdered thy own children, thy innocent children! Did not their wisdom, their modesty, their obedience, their submission to thy will in all things, their virtue, all plead in their behalf? Blind and insensible father! dost thou deserve to live after the execrable crime thou hast committed? I have brought this abomination on my own head; and Heaven chastises me for not persevering in that aversion to women in which I was born. And oh, ye detestable wives! I will not, no I will not, as ye deserve, wash off the guilt of your sins with your blood; ye are unworthy of my rage; but perdition seize me if ever I see you more!
King Camaralzaman was a man of too much religion to break his vow: he commanded the two queens to be lodged in separate apartments that very day, where they were kept under strong guards, and he never saw them again as long as he lived.
While the king of the isle of Ebene afflicted himself for the loss of the princes his sons, whose death he thought he had been the author of, by his too rashly condemning them, the royal youths wandered through deserts, endeavouring to avoid all places that were inhabited, and to meet any human creature. They lived on herbs and wild fruits and drank only foul rain-water, which they found in the crevices of the rocks. They slept, and watched by turns at night, for fear of wild beasts.
When they had travelled about a month, they came to the foot of a frightful mountain, of black stones, and to all appearance inaccessible. They at last espied a sort of path, but so narrow and difficult, that they durst not venture up it. This obliged them to go along by the foot of the mountain, in hopes to find a more easy way to reach the top of it. They went about it five days, but could see nothing like a path, so they were forced to return to that which they had neglected. They still thought it would be in vain for them to attempt going up by it; they deliberated what they should do, a long time; and at last, encouraging one another, resolved to ascend the hill.
The more they advanced, they thought it was the higher and the more steep, which made them think several times of giving over their enterprise. When the one was weary, the other stopt, and they took breath together; sometimes they were both so tired, that they wanted strength to go farther: then, despairing of being able to reach the top, they thought they must lie down and die of fatigue and weariness. A few minutes after, when they found they recovered strength, they animated each other, and went on.
Notwithstanding all their endeavours, and their courage and perseverance, they could not get to the top that day: night came on, and prince Assad was so tired and spent, that he stopt, and said to prince Amgiad, Brother, I can go no farther: I am just dying. —Let us rest ourselves, replied prince Amgiad, as long as you will, and have a good heart; it is but a little way to the top, and the moon befriends us.
They rested themselves about half an hour, and then Assad made a new effort, and once more ascended what remained of the way to the mountain’s summit, where they both at last arrived, and lay down. Amgiad rose first, and advancing, saw a tree at a little distance: he went to it, and found it was a pomegranate tree with large fruit upon it, and a spring at the foot of it: he ran to his brother Assad to tell him the good news, and conduct him to the tree by the fountain side. They refreshed themselves there by eating each a pomegranate, after which they fell asleep.
When they awoke next morning, Come, brother, said Amgiad to Assad, let us go on: I see the mountain is easier to be travelled over on this side than the other; all our way now is down hill; but Assad was so tired with the last day’s fatigue, that he wanted three days repose to recover himself.
They spent them as they had done many before, in discoursing on their mothers’ inordinate passion, which had reduced them to such a deplorable state: But, said they, since Heaven has so visibly declared itself in our favour, we ought to bear it with patience, and comfort ourselves with hopes that we shall see an end of it.
After having rested three days, the two brothers continued their travels. As the mountain on that side was composed of several stages of extensive fields, they were five days in descending it, before they came into the plain. They then discovered a great city, at which they rejoiced. Brother, said Amgiad to Assad, are not you of my opinion, that you should stay in some place out of the city, where I may find you again, while I go and learn the language, and inform myself what is the name of the city? in what country we are? and when I come back, I will bring provisions with me. It may not be safe for us to go there together.
Brother, replied Assad, your advice is both safe and prudent, and I approve of what you say; but if one of us must part from the other on that account, I will not suffer it to be you; you must allow me to go, for what shall I suffer, if any ill accident should happen to you?
But, brother, answered Amgiad, the same ill accident you fear for me, I have as much reason to be afraid of for you; I entreat you to let me go, and do you stay here with patience. I will never yield to it, said Assad; if any ill happen to me, it will be some comfort to think you are safe. Amgiad was forced to submit, and Assad going towards the city, he stayed under the trees at the foot of the mountain.
Prince Assad took the purse of money which Amgiad had in charge, and went forwards towards the city. He had not gone far in the first street, before he met with a reverend old man with a cane in his hand: he was neatly dressed, and the prince took him for a man of note in the place, who would not put a trick upon him, so he accosted him thus: Pray, my lord, which is the way to the market-place? The old man looked on prince Assad, smiling: Child, said he, it is plain you are a stranger, or you would not have asked that question of me.
Yes, my lord, I am a stranger, replied Assad. The old man answered, You are welcome then; our country will be honoured by the presence of so handsome a young man as you are: tell me what business you have at the market-place.
My lord, replied Assad, it is near two months since my brother and I set out from our own country, which is a great way from hence: we have not ceased travelling, and we arrived here but to-day. My brother, tired with such a long journey, stays at the foot of the mountain, and I am come to buy some provision for him and me.
Son, said the old man, you could not have come in a better time, and I am glad of it, for your and your brother’s sake: I made a feast to-day for some friends of mine, and there is a great deal of victuals left untouched: come along with me; you shall eat as much as you please, and when you have done, I will give you enough to last your brother and you several days: do not spend your money, when there is no occasion for it; travellers are always in want of it. While you are eating, I will give you an account of our city, which nobody can do better than myself, who have borne all the honourable offices in it. It is well for you that you happened to light upon me; for I must tell you, all our citizens cannot so well help and inform you as I can: I can assure you some of them are very wicked. Come along, you shall see the difference between a real honest man, as I am, and such as boast of being so, and are not.
I am infinitely obliged to you, replied Assad, for your good will towards me; I put myself entirely into your hands, and am ready to go with you where you please.
The old man laughed in his sleeve to think he had got the prince in his clutches; and as he walked by the side of him, all the way, lest he should perceive it, talked of various subjects, to preserve the favourable opinion Assad had of him. Among other things, said he, it must be confessed you were very fortunate to meet with me, rather than with any other man. I thank God I met with you: you will know why I say it when you come to my house.
Thither they came ere it was long, and the old man introduced Assad into a hall, where were forty such old fellows as himself, who made a circle round a flaming fire, which they adored. The prince was not more seized with horror at the sight of so many men mistakingly adoring the creature for the Creator, than with fear of finding himself betrayed and in such an abominable place.
While Assad stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat saluted the forty grey-headed men. Devout adorers of fire, said he to them, this is a happy day for us. Where is Gazban? call him.
He spake these words aloud, and a negro, who waited at the lower end of the hall, presently came up to him. This black was Gazban; who, as soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what he was called. He ran to him immediately, knocked him down, and bound his hands with wonderful activity. When he had done, Carry him down, said the old man, and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to give him every day a good bastinado, with a loaf morning and night for his subsistence: this is enough to keep him alive till the next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain. He shall be offered up an agreeable sacrifice to our divinity.
As soon as the old man had given this cruel order to Gazban, than the slave hurried prince Assad out of the hall, through several doors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps; there he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness, fastened to his feet. When he had done, he went to give the old man’s daughters notice of it; but their father had before sent for them, and given them their instructions himself. Daughters, said he to them, go down and give the Mussulman I just now brought in the bastinado, as you know how to do it: do not spare him; you cannot better show your zeal for the worship of the fire.
Bostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to Mussulmen, received this order with joy. They descended into the dungeon that very moment, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till the blood issued out of his wounds, and he was almost dead. After this cruel infliction, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water by him, and retired.
Assad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he did, he broke out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery. His comfort however was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother Amgiad.
That prince waited for his brother till evening with impatience: when it was two, three, or four of the clock in the morning, and Assad did not return, he was like one in despair. He spent the night in that dismal condition; and as soon as it was day, went to the city, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmen. He accosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place. He was told it was the city of the Magicians; so called, from the great number of magicians, who adored the fire, and that there were but very few Mussulmen. Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle of Ebene. He was answered, four months voyage by sea, and a year’s journey by land. The man he talked to left him hastily, having satisfied him as to those two questions, and went about his business.
Amgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene with his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they reached this city in so little time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the way across the mountain was much shorter, but not frequented, because of its difficulty.
Going farther in the town, he stopped at a tailor’s shop, whom he knew to be a Mussulman by his dress, as he had known the man he had talked to before. Having saluted him, he sat down, and told the occasion of the trouble he was in.
When prince Amgiad had done talking, the tailor replied, If your brother has fallen into the hands of some magician, depend upon it you will never see him more: he is lost past all recovery; and I advise you to comfort yourself as well as you can, and to beware of falling into the same misfortune. To which end, if you will hearken to me, you shall stay at my house, and I will tell you all the tricks of these magicians, that you may take care of yourself when you go out. Amgiad, afflicted for the loss of his brother, accepted the tailor’s offer, and thanked him a thousand times for his kindness to him.
The Story of Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the Magicians.
Prince Amgiad did not go out of the tailor’s house for a whole month, except his host went with him. At last he ventured to go alone to the bath. As he was returning home through a street where there was nobody, he met a lady coming to him. Seeing a handsome young man, fresh come out of the bath, she lifted up her veil, and asked him, with a smiling air, whither he was going; and ogled him all the while so amorously, that Amgiad could not resist her charms. Madam, said he, I am going to my own house, or yours, as you please.
My lord, replied the lady, with an agreeable smile, ladies of my quality never carry men to their own houses; they always go to the men’s.
Amgiad was very much confounded at this answer, which he did not expect: he durst not venture to take her home to his landlord’s house, fearing the good man would be scandalized by it, and he should have lost his protection, of which he stood in great need, considering he was in a city where it was so necessary for him to be always upon his guard: he knew so little of the town, that he could not tell where to carry her, and he could not resolve to lose this lucky adventure. In this uncertainty, he determined to throw himself upon chance; and without making any answer, he went before, and the lady followed him. Amgiad led her from street to street, from square to square, till they were both weary with walking: at last they came to a street, at the end of which was a great gate, shut up, opening to a handsome house, and having a seat on each side of it. Amgiad sat down on one of them, as if to take breath; and the lady, more weary than he, seated herself on the other.
When she had taken her seat, she asked him whether that was his house. You see it, madam, said Amgiad. Why do you not open the gate then? replied the lady; what do you wait for? Fair lady, answered Amgiad, I have not the key; I left it with my slave when I sent him on an errand, and he cannot be come back yet: besides, I ordered him afterwards to get something good for dinner; so that I am afraid we shall wait a long time for him.
The prince met with so many difficulties in satisfying his passion, that he began to repent of it. He therefore contrived this answer, in hopes that the lady would take the hint, and out of resentment leave him, and seek elsewhere for a lover; but he was mistaken.
This is a most impertinent slave, said the lady, to make us wait so long. I will chastise him myself as he deserves, if you do not, when he comes back: it is not decent that I should sit here alone with a man at a gate. Saying this, she arose and took up a stone to break the lock, which was only of wood, and weak, according to the fashion of the country.
Amgiad did all he could to hinder her. What are you doing, madam? said the prince. For Heaven’s sake stay a little! What are you afraid of? replied the lady; is it not your house? It is no great matter to break a wooden lock; a new one will not cost much. The lock she accordingly broke; and as soon as the door was open, entered the house, and walked before him.
Amgiad gave himself over for a lost man, when he saw the door forced open; he paused upon it, whether he should go into the house or not, or make off as fast as he could, to avoid the danger which he believed was inevitable; and he was going to fly, when the lady returned.
Seeing he did not enter, Why do not you come into your house? said she. The prince answered, I am looking to see if my slave is coming, fearing we have nothing ready. Come in, come in, said madam; we had better wait for him within doors than without.
Amgiad, much against his will, followed her into the house. Passing through a spacious court, neatly paved, they mounted by several steps into a grand vestibule, which led to a large open hall, very well furnished, where he and the lady saw a table ready spread with all sorts of delicacies, another heaped with fruit, and a sideboard full of bottles of wine.
When Amgiad saw these preparations, he gave himself up for lost. Poor Amgiad, said he to himself, thou wilt soon follow thy dear brother Assad!
The lady, on the contrary, transported at the sight, cried out, How, my lord, did you fear there was nothing ready? You see your slave has done more than you expected; but if I am not mistaken, these preparations were made for some other lady, and not for me: no matter, let her come; I promise you I will not be jealous; I only beg the favour of you that you will permit me to wait on her and you.
Amgiad, as much as he was troubled at this accident, could not help laughing at the lady’s pleasantry. Madam, said he, thinking of something else that tormented his mind, there is nothing in what you fancy; this is my common dinner, and no extraordinary preparation, I assure you. As he could not bring himself to sit down at a table which was not prepared for him, he would have taken his seat on a sofa, but the lady would not let him. Come, sir, said she, you must be hungry after bathing, let us eat and enjoy ourselves.
Amgiad was forced to do what the lady would have him: they both sat down and fell to. The lady, having eat a bit, took a bottle and glass, poured out some wine, and drank to Amgiad: and when she had drank herself, she filled another glass, and gave it to Amgiad, who pledged her. The more the prince thought of this adventure, the more he was amazed that the master of the house did not appear, and that so rich a house, and so well provided, should be left without a servant. It will be lucky, said he to himself, if the master of the house does not come till I am got clear of this intrigue. While he was occupied with these thoughts, and others more troublesome, she eat and drank heartily, and obliged him to do the same. They were almost come to the fruit, when the master of the house arrived.
It happened to be Bahader, master of the horse to the king of the magicians: this house belonged to him, but he commonly dwelt in another; and he seldom came here, unless to regale himself with two or three chosen friends. He always sent provisions from his other house on such occasions, and had done so this day by some of his servants, who were just gone as the lady and Amgiad entered it.
Bahader came as he used to do, in disguise, and without attendants, and a little before the time appointed for his friends coming: he was not a little surprised to see the door of his house broken open. He entered, making no noise, and hearing some persons talking and making merry in the hall, he stole along under the wall, and put his head half-way within the door to see who they were.
Perceiving a young man and a young lady eating at his table the victuals that had been provided for his friends and himself, and that there was no great harm done, he resolved to divert himself with the adventure.
The lady’s back was a little turned from him, and she did not see the master of the horse, but Amgiad saw him immediately: he had then the glass in his hand, and was going to drink it off; he changed colour at the sight of Bahader, who made a sign to him not to say a word, but to come and speak with him.
Amgiad drank and rose. Where are you going? said the lady. The prince answered, Pray, madam, stay here a little; I shall be back again in a minute; a small affair obliges me to go out at present. Bahader waited for him in the vestibule, and led him into the court to talk to him without being heard by the lady.
When Bahader and Amgiad were in the court, Bahader demanded of the prince how the lady came into his house, and why they broke open his door. My lord, replied Amgiad, you may very reasonably think me guilty of a very unwarrantable action; but if you will have patience to hear me, I hope my innocence will appear. He then told him, in a few words, what had happened to him, without disguising any part of the truth; and to convince him that he was not capable of committing such an action as to break into a house, he told him plainly he was a prince, and what was the reason of his coming to the city of the magicians.
Bahader, who naturally loved strangers, was transported with an opportunity of obliging one of Amgiad’s rank and quality; for by his air, his actions, and his well-turned discourse, he did not in the least doubt of the truth of what he said. Prince, said Bahader, I am very glad I can oblige you in so pleasant an adventure as this: far from disturbing the feast, it will be a pleasure to me to contribute to your satisfaction in any thing. Before I say any more on this subject, I am happy to inform you my name is Bahader; I am master of the horse to the king of the magicians: I commonly dwell in another house which I have in this city, and come here sometimes to have the more liberty with my friends. You have made this lady believe you have a slave, though you have none: I will be your slave; and that this may not disturb you, and to spare your excuses, I repeat again, that I will positively be so; you will soon know my reason for it. Go to your place, and continue to divert yourself: when I return again, and come before you in a slave’s habit, chide me for staying so long; do not be afraid even to strike me. I will wait upon you all the while you are at table, till night; you shall sleep here, and so shall the lady, and to-morrow morning you may send her home with honour. I shall afterwards endeavour to do you more important services: go, and lose no time. Amgiad would have made him an answer, but the master of the horse would not let him, forcing him to go to the lady. He had scarce got into the hall before Bahader’s friends, whom he had invited, arrived. Bahader excused himself for not entertaining them that day, telling them they would approve of the reason of it when they knew it, which should be in due time. When they were gone, he went forth and dressed himself in a slave’s habit.
Prince Amgiad came to the lady much better pleased at finding the house belonged to a man of quality, who had received him so courteously. When he sat down to the table again, he said, Madam, I beg a thousand pardons for my rudeness: I was vexed that my slave should tarry so long; the rascal shall pay for it, when he comes: I will teach him to make me stay so for him.
Let not that trouble you, said the lady; so much the worse for him; if he is guilty of any faults, let him pay for it: do not let us think of him; we will enjoy ourselves without him.
They continued at the table with the more pleasure, as Amgiad was under no apprehensions of the consequence of the lady’s indiscretion, who ought not to have broken open the door, though it had been Amgiad’s own house. The prince was now as merry as the lady: they said a thousand pleasant things, and drank more than they ate, till Bahader arrived, disguised like a slave.
Bahader entered like a slave who feared his master’s displeasure for staying out when he had company with him: he fell down at his feet, and kissed the ground, to implore his clemency; and when he had done, stood behind him with his hands across, in expectation of his commands.
Sirrah, said Amgiad, with a fierce tone and angry look, is there such a slave as you in all the world? Where have you been? What have you been doing, that you came no sooner?
My lord, replied Bahader, I ask your pardon; I was executing your orders, and did not think you would come home so early.
You are a rascal, said Amgiad, and I shall break your bones, to teach you to lie and to disappoint me. He then rose up, took a stick, and gave him two or three slight blows with it; after which he sat down to table again.
The lady was not satisfied with the chastisement he bestowed on him. She also rose, took the stick, and fell upon Bahader so unmercifully, that the tears came into his eyes. Amgiad, offended to the last degree at the freedom she took, and that she should use one of the king’s chief officers so ill, cried out to her in vain, Enough. She continued striking him. Let me alone, said she, I will give him enough, and teach him to be absent so long another time. She continued beating him with great fury, till Amgiad rose from the table, and forced the stick out of her hand; which she did not part with without much struggling. When she found she could beat Bahader no longer, she sat down and railed at and cursed him.
Bahader wiped his eyes, and stood up to fill out wine. When he saw they had done eating and drinking, he took away the cloth, cleared the hall, put every thing in its place; and, night coming on, lighted up the lamps. Every time he came in, or went out, the lady muttered and threatened him, and gave him abusive language, to Amgiad’s great disliking, who would have hindered her, but could not. When it was time for them to go to bed, Bahader prepared one for them on the sofa, and withdrew into a chamber, where he laid himself down, and it was not long before he fell asleep, having been fatigued with his beating. Amgiad and the lady entertained one another a good half hour afterwards, and the lady wanted to go forth before she went to bed. Passing through the vestibule, she heard Bahader snore; and having seen a sabre hanging up in the hall, she turned back again, and said to prince Amgiad, My lord, as you love me, do one thing for me. In what can I serve you? replied the prince. The lady answered, Oblige me so far as to take down this sabre, and cut off your slave’s head with it. Amgiad was astonished at such a proposal from a lady, not doubting but it was the wine she had drank that prompted it. Madam, said he, let my slave alone; he is not worthy of your notice; I have beat him, and you have beat him: it is sufficient: besides, I am very well satisfied with him; he does not use to be guilty of such faults.
That shall not do, replied the lady, in violent fury; the rogue shall die: if not by your hands, by mine. Saying this, she took down the sabre from the place where it hung, drew it out of the scabbard, and was going to execute her wicked design.
Amgiad met her in the vestibule, saying, You shall be satisfied, madam, since you will have it so; but I should be sorry that any one, beside myself, should kill my slave. When she had given him the sabre, Come, follow me, said he; make no noise, for fear we wake him. They went into Bahader’s chamber, where Amgiad, instead of striking him, struck at the lady, and cut off her head, which fell upon Bahader.
If the noise of the blow which Amgiad gave the lady, in cutting off her head, had not waked Bahader, her head falling upon him would have done it; he was amazed to see Amgiad with a sabre all bloody, and the body of the lady lying headless on the ground. The prince told him what had passed, and ending his discourse, said, I had no other way to hinder this furious woman from killing you, but to take away her life. My lord, replied Bahader, full of gratitude, persons of your rank and generosity are not capable of doing such a wicked action as she desired of you. You are my deliverer, and I cannot enough thank you. After he had embraced him, to show him what sense he had of his obligations to him, he said, We must carry this corpse out before it is quite day, leave it to me, I will do it. Amgaid would not agree to that, saying, he would carry it away himself, since he had struck the blow. Bahader replied, You are a stranger in this city, and cannot do it so well as one who is acquainted here; I must do it, if for no other reason, yet for both our safeties, to prevent our being questioned for her death: stay you here, and if I do not come back before day, you may be sure the watch has seized me; and for fear of the worst, I will by writing give this house and furniture for your habitation; you have nothing to do but to live in it.
When he had written, signed, and delivered the paper to prince Amgiad, he put the lady’s body in a bag, head and all, laid it on his shoulder, and went out with it from one street to another, taking the way to the sea-side. He had not gone far before he met with one of the judges of the city, who was going the rounds in person. Bahader was stopped by the judge’s followers, who, opening the bag, found the body of a murdered lady, bundled up with the head. The judge, who knew the master of the horse, notwithstanding his disguise, took him home to his house, and not daring to put him to death without telling the king of it, because of his quality, he carried him to court as soon as it was day. When the king had heard from the judge, what a foul action he had been guilty of, as he believed from the circumstances, he addressed the master of the horse in these words: It is thus then that thou murderest my subjects, to rob them, and then thou wouldst throw their dead bodies into the sea, to hide thy villany; let us rid them of you; go, hang him up immediately.
Innocent as Bahader was, he took his sentence of death with all imaginable resignation, and said not a word to justify himself. The judge carried him to his house, and, while the gallows was preparing, he sent a crier to publish throughout the city, that at noon the master of the horse was to be hanged for a murder committed by him.
Prince Amgiad, who had in vain expected Bahader’s return, was struck with terrible consternation when he heard the crier publish the approaching execution of the master of the horse. If, said he to himself, somebody must die for the death of such a wicked woman, it is I, and not Bahader; I will never suffer an innocent man to be punished for the guilty; and without deliberating any more about it, he hastened to the place of execution, whither the people were running from all parts.
When Amgiad saw the judge bringing Bahader to the gibbet, he went up to him, and said, I am come to tell you, and to assure you, that the master of the horse whom you are leading to execution is wholly innocent of the lady’s death: I am guilty of the crime, if it is one, to have killed a detestable woman, who would have murdered Bahader; and then he told him all as it happened.
The prince having informed the judge how he met her coming out of the bath; how she was the cause of going into the master of the horse’s pleasure-house, and all that had passed to the moment in which he was forced to cut off her head, to save Bahader’s life; the judge ordered execution to be stopped, and conducted Amgiad to the king, taking the master of the horse with him.
The king had a mind to hear the story from Amgiad himself; and the prince, the better to prove his own innocence and the master of the horse’s, took that opportunity to discover who he was, and what had driven him and his brother Assad to that city, with all the accidents that had befallen them, from their departure from the capital city of the isle of Ebene, to the time in which he talked to him.
The prince having done speaking, the king said to him, I rejoice that I have by this means come to the knowledge of you; I not only give you your own and my master of the horse’s life, whom I commend for his kindness to you, but I restore him to his office; and as for you, prince, I declare you my grand vizier, to make amends for your father’s unjust usage of you, though it is also excusable, and I permit you to employ all the authority I now give you to find out prince Assad.
Prince Amgiad having thanked the king of the city and country of magicians for the honour he had done him, and taking possession of his office of grand vizier, he took every possible means to find out the prince his brother. He ordered the common criers to promise a great reward to any one who should bring forth prince Assad, or tell any tidings of him. He sent men up and down the country to the same purpose; but notwithstanding all his diligence, he could hear no news of him.
The Sequel of the Story of Prince Assad.
Assad in the meanwhile continued in the dungeon in chains; Bostama and Cavama, the cunning old conjuror’s daughters, treating him daily with the same cruelty and inhumanity as at first.
The solemn festival of the adorers of fire approached; and a ship was fitted out for the fiery mountain as usual; the captain’s name was Behram, a great bigot to that religion. He loaded it with proper merchandise; and when it was ready to sail, he put Assad in a chest, which was half full of goods, a few crevices being left between the boards for him to breathe, enough to keep life in him. This chest was stowed in the bottom of the hold, for the greater security.
Before the ship sailed, the grand vizier Amgiad, Assad’s brother, who had been told that the adorers of fire used to sacrifice a Mussulman every year on the fiery mountain, suspected that Assad might have fallen into their hands, and be designed a victim at that bloody sacrifice; wherefore he resolved to search the ship in person. He ordered all the passengers and seamen to be brought upon deck, and commanded his men to search all over the ship, which they did, yet Assad could not be found, he was so well concealed.
When the grand vizier had done searching the vessel, she sailed, and as soon as Behram was got out to sea, he ordered prince Assad to be taken out of the chest, and fettered, to secure him, fearing least he should fling himself into the sea in despair, since he knew he was going to be sacrificed.
The wind was very favourable two or three days, and then it turned contrary, after which there arose a furious storm; and the vessel was not only driven out of her course, but neither Behram nor his pilot knew where they were. They were afraid of splitting against the rocks, for in the violence of the storm they discovered land, and a dreadful shore before them. Behram saw he was driven into the port and capital of queen Margiana, which was a great mortification to him.
This queen Margiana was a devout professor of the Mahometan religion, and a mortal enemy to the adorers of fire. She banished all of them out of her dominions, and would not let any of their ships touch at her ports.
It was no longer in the power of Behram now to help putting into the port of this queen’s capital city, or else he had been dashed to pieces against the frightful rocks that lay off the shore. In this extremity he held a council with his pilot and seamen. My lads, said he, you see to what a necessity we are reduced; we must choose one of these two things; either resolve to be swallowed up by the waves, or put into queen Margiana’s port, whose hatred to all persons of our religion you very well know. She will certainly seize our vessel and put us all to death, without mercy. I see but one likely way to escape her, which is, to take off the fetters from the Mussulman we have aboard, and dress him like a slave. When queen Margiana commands me to come before her, and asks what trade I use, I will tell her I deal in slaves; that I have sold all I had, but one, whom I keep to be my clerk, because he can read and write. She will see him, to be sure, and he being handsome, and of her own religion, will have pity on him. No doubt she will then ask to buy him of me, and on this condition will let us stay in the port till the weather is fair. If any of you have any thing else to propose, that will be of more advantage to us, I am ready to hearken to it. The pilot and seamen applauded his judgment, and agreed to follow his advice.
Behram commanded prince Assad’s chains to be taken off, and had him dressed like a slave very neatly, as became one who was to pass for his clerk before the queen of the country. They had scarce time to do this, before the ship drove into the port, and dropped anchor.
Queen Margiana’s palace was so near the sea-side, that her garden extended down to the sea-shore. She saw the ship anchor, and sent to the captain to come to her, and the sooner to satisfy her curiosity, waited for him in her garden.
Behram, who expected to be sent for, landed with prince Assad; whom he required to confirm what he had said of his being a slave, and his clerk. When he was introduced to the queen, he threw himself at her feet, and informed her of the necessity he was in to put into her port; that he dealt in slaves, and had sold all he had but one, which was Assad there present, whom he kept for his clerk.
The queen was taken with Assad from the minute she first saw him, and was extremely glad to hear that he was a slave; resolving to buy him, cost what it would. She asked Assad what was his name.
Great queen, replied Assad, with tears in his eyes, does your majesty ask what my name was formerly, or what it is now? The queen answered, Have you two names then? Alas! it is but too true, said Assad: I was once called Assad (most happy); and now my name is Motar (devoted to be sacrificed.)
Margiana, not being able to find out the true meaning of this answer, understood it of his condition of a slave; for she perceived he had a great deal of wit. Since you are clerk to the captain, said she, no doubt you can write well: let me see your hand.
Behram had furnished Assad with pen, ink and paper, as a token of his office, that the queen might take him for what he designed she should.
The prince stepped a little aside, and wrote as follows, suitable to his wretched circumstances:
‘The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted falls. Fools advance themselves to honours by discourses which signify nothing, while men of sense and eloquence live in poverty and contempt. The Mussulman with all his riches is miserable. The infidel triumphs. We cannot hope things will be otherwise. The Almighty has decreed it should be so.’
Assad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who admired alike the moral of the sentences and the goodness of the writing. She needed no more to have her heart inflamed, and to feel a sincere concern for his misfortunes. She had no sooner read it, but she addressed herself to Behram, saying, Do which you will, either sell me this slave, or make a present of him to me; perhaps it will turn most to your account to do the latter.
Behram answered insolently, that he could neither give nor sell him; that he wanted his slave, and would keep him.
Queen Margiana, provoked at his boldness, would not talk to him any more about it. She took the prince by the arm, and turned him before her to the palace, sending Behram word, that if he stayed the night in her port, she would confiscate his goods, and burn his ship. So he was forced to go back to his vessel, and prepare to put to sea again, notwithstanding the tempest was not yet over.
Queen Margiana, on entering her palace, commanded supper to be got ready; and while it was providing, she ordered Assad to be brought into her apartment, where she bade him sit down. Assad would have excused himself: It does not belong to a slave, said he, to presume to this honour.
To a slave! replied the queen; you were so a moment ago; henceforward you are no more a slave. Sit down near me, and tell me the story of your life; for by what you wrote, and the insolence of that slave-merchant, I guess there is something extraordinary in it.
Prince Assad obeyed her; and, sitting down, began thus: Mighty queen, your majesty is not mistaken in thinking there is something extraordinary in the story of my life: it is indeed more so than you can imagine. The ills, the incredible torments, I have suffered, and the death to which I was devoted, and from which I am delivered by your royal generosity, will show the greatness of my obligation to you, never to be forgotten. But before I enter into particulars of my miseries, which will strike horror into the hearts of all that hear it, I must trace the origin of them to its source.
This preamble increased queen Margiana’s curiosity. The prince then told her of his royal birth; of his brother Amgiad, and their mutual friendship; of their mothers’ criminal passion, which in a night turned into inveterate hatred, the cause of all their sufferings; of the king his father’s rage; how miraculously their lives were saved; how he lost his brother; how he had been long imprisoned and tortured, and was only discharged then to be sacrificed on the fiery mountain.
When Assad had finished his discourse, the queen was more than ever enraged at the adorers of fire. Prince, said she, though I have always had an aversion to the adorers of fire, yet hitherto I have had some humanity for them; but after their barbarous usage of you, and their execrable design to sacrifice you, I will henceforth declare perpetual war against them.
She would have said more, but supper being served up, she made prince Assad sit down at table with her, being charmed with his beauty and eloquence, and touched with a passion which she hoped soon to have an opportunity of letting him see. Prince, said she, we must make you amends for so many fasts and wretched meals, which the pitiless adorers of fire forced you to make; you will want nourishment after such sufferings. With these and such like words she helped him at supper; and ordered the prince to drink a good deal of wine to recover his spirits; by which means he drank more than he could well bear.
The cloth being taken away, Assad wanting to go out, took an opportunity when the queen did not see him. He descended into the court, and seeing the garden door open, went into it. Being tempted by the pleasantness of the place, he walked there a while. At last he came to a fountain, where he washed his face and hands to refresh himself, and lying down on the turf round the fountain, fell asleep.
It was almost night, and Behram, determined to prevent the queen from executing her threats, had weighed anchor, troubled at the loss of Assad, by which he was disappointed of a most acceptable sacrifice. He comforted himself as well as he could with the thoughts that the storm was over, and that a land breeze favoured his getting off from that coast. As soon as he was towed out of the port by the help of his boat, before it was hoisted up into the ship again, Stop, my lads, said he to the seamen in it, do not come on board again; I will give you some casks to fill with water, and will wait for you. The sailors excused themselves, for that they did not know where to get water. Behram had observed, while he was talking to the queen in the garden, that there was a fountain at the end of it, near the port. Go, said he, land before the palace-garden; the wall is not above breast high; you may easily get over; there is a basin in the middle of the garden, where you may fill all your barrels, and hand them aboard without difficulty.
The sailors went ashore at the place he directed them to, and laying their casks on their shoulders, easily got over the wall.
As they drew near the basin, they perceived a man sleeping on the grass, and knew him to be Assad. They immediately divided themselves; and while some of the crew filled their barren with as little noise as possible, others surrounded Assad, and watched to stop him if he should awake.
He was fast, and slept on, giving them time to fill all their casks: which, as soon as they had filled, they handed over the wall to others of their crew who waited there to carry them aboard.
They next seized Assad, and bore him away, without giving him time to recollect himself. They got him over the wall into their boat with the casks, and rowed to the ship. When they came near her they cried out for joy, Captain, sound your trumpets, beat your drums; we have brought you your slave again.
Behram, who could not imagine how the seamen could find and take him again, and did not see Assad in the boat, it being night, waited their coming on board with impatience, to ask what they meant; but when he had seen him, he could not contain himself, so great was his joy. He commanded him to be chained down again, without staying to inquire how they came by him; and having hoisted the boat on board, set sail for the fiery mountain.
In the meanwhile queen Margiana was in a dreadful fright: she did not much concern herself at first, when she found prince Assad was gone out, because she did not doubt but he would return in a little time. When some time had passed without his appearing, she began to be uneasy, and commanded her women to look for him. They searched all about without finding him; and night coming on, she ordered them to search again with torches, which they did to as little purpose.
Queen Margiana was so impatient and alarmed, that she went with lights, and finding the garden-door open, went into it, and walked all over it with her women, to seek for him herself; and passing by the fountain and basin, she espied a slipper, which she took up, and knew it to be prince Assad’s: her women also said it was his. The water being spilt about the basin, made her believe that Behram had carried him off again. She sent immediately to see if he was still in the port; and hearing he had set sail a little before it was dark, that he lay to some time off the shore, while he sent his boat for water from the fountain, she doubted no longer of the prince’s ill fortune; so she sent word to the commander of ten ships of war, which lay always ready in the port, to sail on the shortest notice, that she would embark herself next morning as soon as it was day. The commander lost no time; ordered the captains and subalterns, seamen and soldiers aboard, and was ready to sail at the time appointed. She embarked; and when the squadron was at sea, told the commander her intention: Make all the sail you can, said she, and give chase to the merchant-man that sailed yesterday evening out of this port: I give it to you to be plundered, if you take it; if not, your life shall answer it.
The ten ships chased Behram’s two whole days without seeing her. The third day in the morning they discovered her, and at noon had so surrounded her, that she could not escape.
As soon as cruel Behram espied the ten ships of war, he doubted not it was queen Margiana’s squadron in pursuit of him; and upon that he ordered Assad to be bastinadoed, which he did every day, and had not missed once treating him so barbarously since he left the port of the city of magicians. On sight of these ships, he used him more cruelly than before. He was much perplexed what to do, when he found he was going to be surrounded. To keep Assad, was to declare himself guilty; to kill him was as dangerous, for he feared some tokens or other of it might be seen. He therefore commanded him to be unfettered and brought from the bottom of the hold where he lay. When he came before him, It is thou, said he, that art the cause of my being pursued; and so saying, he flung him into the sea.
Prince Assad knowing how to swim, made so good use of his feet and hands, that he got safe to shore; the waves seconding his bold exertions. The first thing he did after he got on shore was to thank God who had delivered him from so great danger, and once more rescued him out of the hands of the adorers of fire. He then stripped himself, and wringing the water out of his clothes, he spread them on a rock, where, by the heat of the sun, and the rock together, they soon dried. After which he lay down to rest himself, deploring his miserable condition, not knowing in what country he was, nor which way to turn himself. He dressed himself again and walked on, keeping as near the sea side as he could. At last he came to a sort of path which he followed, and travelled ten days through a country which was not inhabited, still living on herbs, plants, and wild fruits. At last he approached the banks of a rivulet near a city, which he knew to be that of the magicians, where he had been so ill used, and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier: he was very glad of it, resolving not to come near any of the adorers of fire, but only to converse with Mussulmen; for he remembered he had seen some the first time he entered the town. It being late, and he knowing the shops were already shut, and few people in the streets, resolved to stay in a burying-ground near the city, where there were several tombs built in the form of mausoleums. He found the door of one of them open; he entered it, and designed to pass the night there.
We must now return to Behram’s ship, which was soon surrounded on all sides by queen Margiana’s squadron, after he had thrown prince Assad overboard. The ship in which queen Margiana was in person first boarded him, and Behram, being in no condition of defence against so many, furled his sails in token of yielding.
The queen herself came aboard him, and demanded of him where the clerk was, whom he had the boldness to take or cause to be taken out of her very palace. Behram replied, O queen! I swear by your majesty, he is not in my ship; you will, by searching it, see my innocence.
Margiana ordered the ship to be searched as narrowly as possible, but she could not find the man whom she so passionately longed to recover, as well out of love to him, as out of that generosity which was her distinguishing character. She was going to kill Behram with her own hand, but refrained, contenting herself with seizing his ship and cargo, and turning him and his men on shore in their boat.
Behram and his seamen arrived at the city of the magicians the same night that Assad did, stopped at the same burying ground, the city gates being shut, intending to stay in some tomb till the next day, when they were opened again.
As Assad’s ill luck would have it, Behram passed before that in which the prince was sleeping, with his head wrapt up in his habit: Assad awoke at the noise he made, and asked, Who’s there?
Behram knew him again presently. Hah, hah! said he, thou art the man who hast ruined me for ever; thou hast escaped being sacrificed this year, but depend on it thou shalt not escape the next. Saying this, he flew upon him, clapped his handkerchief into his mouth to prevent his making a noise, and by the help of his seamen bound him.
The next morning, as soon as the city gates were open, Behram and his men easily carried Assad by a round-about way, through streets where nobody was up, to the old man’s house, where he had been so inhumanly treated. As soon as he got in, he was again thrown into the same dungeon. Behram acquainted the old fellow with the sad occasion of his return, and the ill success of his voyage. The old rascal, upon this, commanded his two daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to treat Assad more cruelly than before, if possible.
Assad was in a terrible surprise to find himself in the hands of his old persecutors, from whom he had suffered so much, and expected to undergo another time the torments from which he hoped that he had been delivered. He was bemoaning the rigour of his destiny, when he saw Bostama enter with a cudgel, a loaf, and a pitcher of water. He was almost dead at the sight of that unmerciful wretch, and the thoughts of the daily sufferings he was to endure for another year, after which he was to die the most horrible death.
Bostama dealt not so inhumanly by prince Assad as she had done the first time of his confinement. His cries, complaints, and earnest entreaties to her to spare him, joined with his tears, were so moving, that Bostama could not help being affected by them, and shedding tears with him. My lord, said she, covering his shoulders again, I ask a thousand pardons for my inhuman treatment of you formerly, and for making you now feel its effect. Till now I was afraid of disobeying a father, who is unjustly enraged against you, and resolved on your destruction; but at last I loathe and abhor this barbarity. Be comforted; your evil days are over. I will endeavour, by better treatment of you, to make amends for all my crimes, the enormity of which you will find I am convinced of. You have hitherto looked on me as an infidel; henceforth believe me one of your own religion; having been converted by a slave, who is a Mussulman. I hope your lessons will finish my conversion. To show my good intentions, I first beg pardon of the true God for all my sins, in dealing so cruelly by you, and I trust he will put it in my power to set you entirely at liberty.
The prince was much comforted to hear her talk thus: he thanked the Almighty for the change wrought in her heart He also thanked her for her good disposition towards him, and omitted no arguments which he thought would have any effect to confirm her in them, by instructing her in the Mussulman religion, and telling her his whole story, his high birth, and adventures, to that time. When he was convinced she was fixed in her good resolution, he asked her how she could hinder her sister Cavama knowing it, and treating him as barbarously as she used to do? Let not that trouble you, replied Bostama; I know how to order matters so that she shall never come near you.
And as she said, she every day prevented her coming down into the dungeon, where she often visited the prince, and instead of carrying him bread and water, she brought him the best wine and the choicest victuals she could get, which was prepared by her twelve Mahometan slaves. She eat with him herself from time to time, and did her utmost to make his confinement comfortable.
A few days afterwards, Bostama, as she stood at her father’s door, heard the public crier making proclamation; but she could not hear what it was about, being too far off.
As he came near her father’s house, she withdrew into it, holding the door half open, perceiving he went before the grand vizier Amgiad, brother to Assad; who was accompanied by several officers, and other attendants, walking before and behind him.
The crier, going a few steps from the house, repeated the proclamation with a loud voice, as follows: ‘The most excellent and illustrious grand vizier, is come in person to seek for his dear brother, from whom he was separated about a year ago; he is a young man of such a person; if any one has him in keeping, or knows where he is, his excellency commands that they bring him forth, or give him notice where he shall find him, promising a great reward to the person that shall so do: if any one conceals him, and he is found, his excellency declares he shall be punished with death, together with his wife, children, and all his family, and his house be razed to the ground.’ Bostama, as soon as she had heard this, shut the door as fast as she could, and ran to Assad in the dungeon. Prince, said she, with joy, your troubles are at an end, follow me immediately. She had taken off his fetters the first day he was brought in. So the prince followed her into the street, where she cried, There he is! there he is!