The prince, extremely mortified at having taken so much useless trouble, deliberated whether he should return to his camp. “But,” thought he, “how shall I return? Shall I climb the hills and traverse the valleys over which I came? Shall I not lose my way in the dusk of the evening, and will my strength hold out? And even if I could, should I venture to present myself before the princess without her talisman?” Absorbed by these disconsolate reflections, and overcome with fatigue, with hunger, thirst, and sleep, he laid down and passed the night at the foot of the tree.
The next morning Camaralzaman was awake before the bird had quitted the tree, and he no sooner saw him take his flight than he got up to pursue him, and followed him the whole of that day with as little success as he had done on the preceding one, eating occasionally of the herbs and fruits he met with in his way. He did the same till the tenth day, always keeping his eye on the bird, and sleeping at night at the foot of the tree where it perched on its highest branches.
On the eleventh day, the bird constantly flying on, and Camaralzaman as constantly pursuing, they arrived at a large city. When the bird was near the walls, he rose very high above them, and bending his flight to the other side, the prince entirely lost sight of him, and with him the hope of ever recovering the talisman of the princess Badoura.
Afflicted as he was in so many ways, and hopeless of procuring relief to his sorrows, he entered the city, which was built on the sea-shore, with a very fine harbour. He walked for a considerable time along the streets, not knowing either where he was, or where to go; at length he arrived at the harbour. Still more uncertain what to do, he walked along the shore, till he came to the gate of a garden, which was open, when he stopped. The gardener, who was a good old man, engaged with his labour, happened to raise his head at the same moment; he had scarcely perceived him, and known him to be a stranger and a mussulman, before he invited him to go in quickly and shut the gate. Camaralzaman did as he desired, and going up to the gardener, asked him why he had made him take this precaution. “It is,” replied the gardener, “because I see that you are a stranger just arrived, and a mussulman; and this city is inhabited for the most part by idolaters, who have a mortal aversion against mussulmen, and treat even the few that are here very ill, who profess the religion of our prophet. You, I suppose, are ignorant of this circumstance, and I look on it as a miracle, that you should have proceeded so far as this without meeting with any disagreeable adventure. In fact, these idolaters are above all things attentive to observe mussulmen strangers who arrive; and to make them fall into some snare, if they are not aware of their wickedness. I praise God, that he has conducted you into a place of safety.”
Camaralzaman thanked this good man very gratefully for the retreat he so generously offered to shelter him from insult. He was going to say more, but the gardener interrupted him: “Let us have no more compliments,” said he, “you are fatigued, and you must want food; come and rest yourself. He took him into his little house, and after the prince had eaten a sufficiency of what the gardener had set before him, with a cordiality that quite won his heart, he begged of him to have the goodness to tell him the reason of his coming.
Camaralzaman satisfied his curiosity, and when he had finished his story, in which he disguised nothing, he asked, in his turn, by what means he might get back to the dominions of the king, his father; “For,” added he, “were I to attempt to rejoin the princess, how should I find her, after eleven days, that I have been separated from her by so extraordinary an adventure. How do I know even that she still exists?” At this sorrowful reflection he could not avoid bursting into tears.
In answer to what the prince had asked, the gardener told him, that the city he was then in, was a whole year’s journey distant from those countries where mussulmen lived, and which were governed by princes of their religion; but that by sea he might reach the isle of Ebony in a much shorter time; and that from thence it would be more easy to pass to the Islands of the Children of Khaledan: that every year a merchant ship sailed to the Isle of Ebony, and that he might avail himself of that opportunity to return from thence to the Islands of the Children of Khaledan. “If you had arrived some days sooner,” continued he, “you might have embarked in that which sailed this year. But if you will wait till that of next year sails, and like to live with me, I offer you my house, such as it is, with all my heart.”
Prince Camaralzaman esteemed himself very fortunate in having thus met with an asylum, in a place where he neither knew any one, nor had any interest to form acquaintances. He accepted the offer, and remained with the gardener; and while he waited the departure of a merchant vessel for the Isle of Ebony, he employed himself in working in the garden during the day; and the nights, when nothing prevented his thoughts from fixing on his dear princess Badoura, he passed in sighs, tears, and lamentations. We will leave him in this place to return to the princess Badoura, whom we left sleeping in her tent.
This princess slept for some time, and on waking was surprised that prince Camaralzaman was not with her. She called her women, and asked them if they knew where he was. Whilst they were assuring her that they had seen him go into the tent, but had not observed his quitting it, she perceived, on taking up her girdle, that the little bag was open, and that the talisman was no longer in it. She did not doubt that the prince had taken it out to examine it, and that he would bring it back. She expected him till night with the greatest impatience, and could not comprehend what could oblige him to be absent from her so long. When she perceived that night was come on, and that it was already quite dark, and yet he did not return, she gave herself up to the deepest affliction. She uttered a thousand curses, both on the talisman and on him who made it; and if respect had not restrained her tongue, she would even have indulged in imprecations against the queen, her mother, for having made her so fatal a present. Although she was distracted at this event, so much the more afflicting, as she could form no conception why the talisman should be the cause of the prince’s departure, she did not lose her presence of mind, but, on the contrary, formed a courageous design, not common with people of her sex.
None, but the princess and her women, knew of Camaralzaman’s disappearance; for at that time his people had all retired, and were sleeping in their tents. As she feared they might betray her if his absence came to their knowledge, she endeavoured to subdue her grief, and commanded her women not to say or do any thing that might create the slightest suspicion. She then changed her dress for one of Camaralzaman’s, whom she resembled so strongly, that his people supposed it to be him on the following morning, when she made her appearance, and commanded them to pack up the baggage, and proceed on their journey. When all was ready, she made one of her women take her place in the litter, and she herself mounted her horse, and they set off.
After a journey of several months by land, as well as by sea, the princess, who had continued the disguise of prince Camaralzaman, in order to reach the Islands of the Children of Khaledan, arrived at the capital of the Isle of Ebony, the reigning king of which was named Armanos. As those of her people, who disembarked the first to seek a lodging for her, had published in the town, that the vessel which was just arrived bore prince Camaralzaman, who was returning from a long voyage, and whom bad weather had obliged to make for this port, the intelligence soon reached the palace of the king.
King Armanos, accompanied by the greatest part of his court, immediately set out to receive the princess, and met her just as she had left the vessel, and was going to the lodging that was engaged for her. He received her as the son of a king who was his friend and ally, with whom he had always lived on terms of amity, and conducted her to his palace, where he lodged her and her whole suit, notwithstanding her earnest entreaties to be permitted to have a lodging to herself. He conferred upon her all the honors imaginable, besides regaling her for three days with extraordinary magnificence.
When the three days were expired, king Armanos finding that the princess, whom he still supposed to be prince Camaralzaman, talked of re-embarking, and continuing her voyage, and being quite charmed with a prince who appeared to him so handsome and well-made, and possessed of so much wit and knowledge, spoke to her in private. “Prince,” said he, “at the advanced age to which you see I am arrived, with little hope of living much longer, I endure the mortification of not having a son, to whom I can bequeath my kingdom. Heaven has bestowed on me one only daughter, who is possessed of such beauty as cannot be matched but with a prince of such high birth and such mental as well as personal accomplishments as distinguish you. Instead, therefore, of preparing to return to your own country, accept her from my hands, together with my crown, which I from this moment resign in your favor, and remain with us. It is now time for me to repose, after having borne the weight of it for so many years; I cannot do it with more satisfaction to myself, than at a period when I am likely to see my state governed by so worthy a successor.”
This generous offer of the king of the Island of Ebony, to give his only daughter in marriage to the princess Badoura, who, being a woman, could not accept her, and of giving up to her all his dominions, occasioned her a degree of embarrassment which she little expected. After having told the king that she was Camaralzaman, and having supported the character with so much plausibility, she thought it would be unworthy of a princess of her rank to undeceive him, and to declare, that instead of being the prince himself, she was only his wife. But if she refused him, she had just reason to fear, from the extreme desire he had evinced for the completion of the marriage, that he might change his friendship and good-will towards her into enmity and hatred, and might even attempt her life. Besides which, she could not be certain that she should find Camaralzaman at the court of king Schahzaman, his father.
These considerations, together with that of acquiring a kingdom for the prince, her husband, in case she should ever rejoin him, determined Badoura to accept the proposals of king Armanos. Having, therefore, remained for some minutes without speaking, she thus replied, her face being at the same time overspread with blushes, which the king attributed to her modesty, “Sire, I am under infinite obligations to your majesty, for the good opinion you have conceived of my person, and for the honor you do me, by conferring on me so great a favor, which I am by no means deserving of, yet dare not refuse. But, Sire,” added she, “I cannot accept so great an alliance, except on condition, that your majesty will assist me with your counsels; and that I undertake nothing that you shall not previously have approved of.”
The marriage being thus agreed on and concluded, the ceremony of the nuptials was postponed to the following day; and the princess Badoura took that opportunity of acquainting her officers, who still supposed her to be prince Camaralzaman, of what was to take place, that they might not be astonished at it; and she assured them, that the princess Badoura had given her consent. She spoke of it to her women also, charging them to continue faithful to the secret.
The king of the Island of Ebony, overjoyed at having acquired a son-in-law, with whom he was so well satisfied, assembled his council on the morrow, and declared, that he bestowed the princess, his daughter, in marriage, on prince Camaralzaman, whom he had taken with him, and seated next him; that he resigned his crown to him, and enjoined them to accept him as their king, and to pay him homage. When he had concluded, he descended from the throne, and made the princess Badoura ascend and take his place, where she received the oaths of fidelity and allegiance from the principal nobles, who were present.
At the conclusion of the council, the new king was solemnly proclaimed throughout the city; rejoicings for several days were ordered, and couriers dispatched to all parts of the kingdom, that the same ceremonies and the same demonstrations of joy might be observed.
In the evening, the whole palace was in festivity, and the princess Haiatalnefous, for this was the name of the daughter of the king of the Island of Ebony, was conducted to the princess Badoura, whom every one supposed to be a man, with a magnificence truly royal. The ceremonies being completed, they were left alone, and retired to rest.
The next morning, while the princess Badoura received the compliments of a large assembly of courtiers on her marriage and accession to the throne, king Armanos and his queen repaired to the apartment of the new queen, their daughter, to inquire how she passed the night. Instead of making any reply, she fixed her eyes on the ground, and by the expression of sorrow which overspread her countenance, plainly showed, that she was dissatisfied.
In order to console the princess Haiatalnefous, the king said to her, “My dear daughter, let not this afflict you; when prince Camaralzaman landed here, he only sought to return, as soon as possible, to king Schahzaman, his father. Although we have prevented him from putting his design in execution, by means, with which he must be well satisfied, we must nevertheless conclude, that he feels much disappointment at being so suddenly deprived even of the hope of ever seeing him again, or any one belonging to his family. You may, therefore, expect, when these emotions of filial tenderness are a little subsided, that he will behave towards you as a good husband.”
The princess Badoura, under the assumed name of Camaralzaman, and king of the island of Ebony, passed the whole of that day, not only in receiving the compliments of her court, but also in reviewing the regular troops belonging to the household, and in several other royal functions, with a dignity and ability which acquired her the approbation of all those who witnessed it.
The night was advanced, when she entered the apartment of queen Haiatalnefous, and she soon perceived, by the restraint with which the latter received her, that she recollected the preceding night. She endeavoured to dissipate her sadness by a long conversation, that she held with her, and in which she employed all her eloquence, of which she had a considerable share, to persuade her that she loved her excessively. She at last gave her time to go to bed, and during this interval, she began to say a prayer; but she remained so long thus employed, that Haiatalnefous fell asleep. She then ceased from praying, and lay down by her side, without waking her, as much afflicted at the necessity she was under of acting a character which did not become her, as the loss of her beloved Camaralzaman, whom she unceasingly lamented. She arose the next morning at break of day, before Haiatalnefous awoke, and went to the council, dressed in the royal robes.
King Armanos did not fail to see the queen, his daughter, again on that day, and he found her in tears. He required no further proof, to be satisfied of the cause of her affliction. Quite indignant at this affront, for such he conceived it, the cause of which he could not comprehend; “Daughter,” said he, “have patience for one night more; I have elevated your husband to my throne, but I shall find the means of abasing him, and of banishing him from hence with shame and ignominy, if he does not behave to you properly. In my present anger, at seeing you treated with such neglect, I do not know whether I shall be satisfied with so moderate a punishment. It is not to you, but to my person that he offers so unpardonable an affront.”
The princess Badoura returned to the chamber of Haiatalnefous as late that evening as on the preceding one. She conversed with her in the same manner, and was then going to say her prayer, while she went to bed; but Haiatalnefous prevented her, and obliged her to sit down again. “What!” said she, “I see you intend to treat me this night as you did the two former ones. Tell me, I entreat you, in what I can have displeased you; I, who not only love, but adore you, and esteem myself the happiest of all the princesses of my rank, for having so amiable a prince as you are for my husband? Any other besides me would have a good opportunity of revenge by abandoning you to your luckless fate for so indignant an affront to my person; but even did I not love you as I do, I am too compassionate for the misfortunes even of those who are totally indifferent to me, not to warn you, that the king, my father, is extremely irritated with your mode of proceeding; and that he only suspends his anger till to-morrow, when you will feel its just effects, if you continue this usage of me. I conjure you not to drive a princess to despair, who cannot avoid loving you.”
This speech occasioned inexpressible embarrassment to the princess Badoura. She could not doubt the sincerity of Haiatalnefous; the coolness which king Armanos had shown her on that day, fully proved his displeasure. The only method that occurred to her of justifying her conduct, was to confess her sex to Haiatalnefous. But although she had foreseen that she should be obliged to make this declaration, yet the uncertainty, whether this princess would take it in good part made her tremble. But at last, when she reflected that if prince Camaralzaman was still alive, he must necessarily stop at the Isle of Ebony, in his way to the dominions of Schahzaman, that she ought to preserve herself for him, and that she could only do it by discovering herself to the princess Haiatalnefous, she hazarded this confession.
As Badoura had remained silent and confused, Haiatalnefous, becoming impatient, was going to continue, when she prevented her by these words: “Too amiable and charming princess,” said she, “I confess I am in fault; and I freely condemn myself: but I hope you will pardon me; and that you will not violate the secret I am going to entrust you with for my justification.” At the same moment Badoura uncovered her bosom: “See, princess,” continued she, “if a woman and a princess, such as you are yourself, does not deserve your pardon; I am persuaded you will grant it with good-will when I shall have related to you my history; and above all, when you are made acquainted with the misfortune which has obliged me to act a deceitful part.”
When the princess Badoura had concluded her narration, and made herself known to the princess of the Isle of Ebony, she entreated her a second time not to betray her secret, and to agree to continue the deceit, and pretend, that she was really her husband, until the arrival of prince Camaralzaman, whom she hoped shortly to see again.
“Princess,” replied Haiatalnefous, “it would indeed be a singular destiny, if so happy an union as yours has been, should be of such short duration, after a mutual affection, conceived and preserved with so many miraculous adventures. I join my wishes to yours, that Heaven may soon re-unite you. Be assured, in the mean time, that I will most religiously preserve the secret you have entrusted me with. I shall feel the greatest pleasure at being the only person in the great kingdom of the Isle of Ebony, who really knows you, while you govern it with the wisdom you have displayed at the commencement of your reign. I asked you to love me, but now I declare to you that I shall be fully satisfied, if you do not refuse me your friendship.” After this conversation, the two princesses tenderly embraced, and with a thousand demonstrations of reciprocal friendship, they lay down to rest.
It was a custom in this island, that the consummation of royal marriages should be made known to the public. The princesses, however, found some means of overcoming this difficulty; and not only the female attendants of the princess Haiatalnefous were the next morning deceived, but also king Armanos, the queen, his consort, and his whole court. And from this time the princess Badoura continued to govern the kingdom in great tranquillity, to the complete satisfaction of the king and all his subjects.
While these things were in this situation in the Isle of Ebony between the princess Badoura and Haiatalnefous, king Armanos, the queen, the court, and the rest of the people in the kingdom, prince Camaralzaman was still in the city of idolaters, with the gardener, who had offered him a retreat.
One morning very early, while the prince was preparing to work in the garden, as was his usual custom, the good old gardener prevented him. “The idolaters,” said he to him, “have a grand festival to-day, and as they abstain from all kinds of labour, to pass it in public assemblies and rejoicings, they will not suffer mussulmen either to work; and the latter, to preserve peace and amity with them, enter into their amusements, and are present at the various spectacles, which are well worthy of notice: so you may allow yourself a little rest to-day. I shall leave you here, and as the time approaches for the merchant vessel, which I mentioned to you, to sail for the Island of Ebony; I am going to see some friends, and will inquire of them what day it is to set sail, and at the same time I will arrange matters for your embarking on it.” The gardener put on his best dress and went out.
When prince Camaralzaman found himself alone, instead of partaking of the public rejoicings which enlivened the whole city, the state of inactivity he remained in brought to his mind in stronger colours the sad recollection of his ever beloved princess. Absorbed by his melancholy reflections, he sighed and moaned as he walked along the garden; when the noise made by two birds, who had perched on a tree near him, attracting his attention, inclined him to lift up his head and stop.
Camaralzaman observed that these birds were fighting desperately, pecking each other with their beaks, and in a few minutes he saw one of them fall dead at the foot of a tree. The bird who remained conqueror resumed his flight, and soon disappeared.
At the same moment, two other birds of a larger size, who had seen the combat from a distance, arrived from a different quarter, and alighted, one at the head, the other at the feet of the deceased, looked at him for a considerable time, shaking their heads in a way which showed their grief, and then dug a grave for him with their claws, in which they buried him.
As soon as the birds had again filled the grave with the earth, they flew away, and a short time after returned, holding in their beaks, one by the wing and the other by a claw, the criminal bird, who uttered dreadful screams, and made violent efforts to escape. They brought him to the grave of the bird he had in his rage destroyed, and there, sacrificing him to the just punishment he merited for the cruel murder he had committed, they deprived him of life by pecking him with their beaks. They then tore open his body, drew out the entrails, and leaving the corpse on the ground, flew away.
Camaralzaman remained in silent admiration the whole time this surprising spectacle continued. He approached the tree where the scene had taken place, and casting his eyes on the entrails, which lay scattered on the ground, he perceived something red appearing out of the stomach of the bird that had been torn to pieces. He took up the mangled remains of the body, and taking out the red substance which had attracted his notice, he found it to be the talisman of the princess Badoura, his dear and tenderly beloved princess, which had cost him so much anxiety, pain, and regret, since this bird had flown away with it. “Cruel bird,” cried he, looking at it, “you delighted in evil actions, and I have no little cause to complain of the grief you have occasioned me. But in proportion to what I have suffered through you, so much do I wish well to those who have revenged my injuries by revenging the death of their companion.”
It is not possible to express the joy of prince Camaralzaman at this adventure. “Dearest princess,” he exclaimed again, “this fortunate moment, in which I thus redeem what is so valuable to you, is no doubt a happy presage that announces my meeting with you in the same unexpected manner, and perhaps even sooner than I dare to hope. Blessed be the day in which I taste such happiness, and which, at the same time, flatters me with the delightful prospect of the greatest pleasure I can enjoy.”
As he finished these words Camaralzaman kissed the talisman, and, wrapping it up carefully, tied it round his arm. During his extreme affliction he had passed almost every night without closing his eyes, and in the midst of tormenting reflections. He slept very tranquilly the whole of that which succeeded this happy event; and the next morning at break of day, putting on his working dress, he went to the gardener for his orders, who begged him to cut and root up a particular tree, which he pointed out to him, as being old and no longer bearing fruit.
Camaralzaman took an axe, and set to work. As he was cutting a part of the root, he struck something, which seemed to resist, and made a loud noise. He removed the earth and discovered a large plate of brass, under which he found a stair-case with ten steps. He immediately descended, and when he had reached the bottom, he saw himself in a sort of cave, or vault, about fifteen feet square, in which he counted fifty large bronze jars, ranged round it, each with a cover. He uncovered them all, one after the other, and found them filled with gold dust. He then left the vault, quite overjoyed at having discovered so rich a treasure; he replaced the plate over the staircase, and continued to root up the tree, while he waited for the gardener’s return.
The gardener had been informed on the preceding day, that the vessel, which sailed annually to the Isle of Ebony, was to depart in a very few days; but those who had given him this intelligence, could not acquaint him with the precise day; they promised, however, to do so on the morrow. He had been to gain the information he wanted, and returned with a countenance which displayed the joy he felt at being the bearer of such good news to Camaralzaman.” “My son,” said he to him, for by his great age he claimed the privilege of addressing the prince in such familiar terms, “rejoice, and hold yourself in readiness to embark in three days; the vessel will sail on that day without fail, and I have agreed with the captain about your passage and departure.”
“In my present situation,” replied Camaralzaman, “you could not announce to me any thing of so agreeable a nature. But, in return, I have to communicate to you also a piece of news, which will give you great pleasure. Take the trouble of following me, and you will see the good fortune that Heaven sends you.” Camaralzaman conducted the gardener to the spot, where he had rooted up the tree, and made him go down into the vault; when he had shown him the number of jars it contained, all filled with gold dust, he expressed his joy, that God had thus recompensed his virtue, and all the fatigue and pain he had undergone for so many years.
“What do you mean?” replied the gardener. “Do you suppose, then, that I will possess myself of all this treasure? No, it is all your own; I have no pretensions to any part of it. During eighty years that I have worked in this garden since my father’s death, I have never chanced to discover it. It is a sign that it was destined for you alone, since God permitted you to find it; it is more appropriate to a prince, like you, than to me, who am on the brink of the grave, and want nothing more. God sends it you very opportunely, at the time that you are about to return to the states which are to belong to you, and where you will make a good use of it.”
Prince Camaralzaman would not give up to the gardener in generosity, and they had a great contest on this point. He, at length, solemnly protested that he would not touch any of the gold, unless the gardener retained half for his share, to which he with some difficulty consented; and they divided the jars, twenty-five to each.
The division being made, “My son,” said the gardener, “this is not enough; we must now devise some plan for embarking these riches on the vessel, and taking them with you so secretly as not to give any suspicion of them, otherwise you might run a risk of losing them. There are no olives in the Isle of Ebony, and those, which are taken from here, are in great request. As you know I have a good provision of those I have gathered from my own garden, you must take the fifty jars, and fill them half way with the gold dust, and the other half with olives up to the top, and we will have them taken to the ship, when you yourself embark.
Camaralzaman adopted this advice, and employed himself the rest of the day in filling and arranging the fifty jars; and as he feared that he might lose the talisman of the princess Badoura by wearing it constantly on his arm, he had the precaution to put it in one of these jars, on which he set a mark to know it again. When he had completed his work, and the jars were ready for removal, as night was approaching, he went home with the gardener, and entering into conversation with him, related the battle of the two birds, and the circumstances attending this adventure, by which he had recovered the talisman of the princess Badoura; the gardener was not less surprised than rejoiced at this account, for his sake.
Whether it was on account of his great age, or that he had taken too much exercise on that day, the gardener passed a bad night; his illness increased on the following day, and on the third morning he found himself still worse. As soon as it was day, the captain of the vessel himself, together with some of his seamen, came and knocked at the garden gate. Camaralzaman opened it, and they inquired for the passenger who was to embark on board their vessel. “I am he,” replied the prince: “the gardener, who took my passage, is ill and cannot speak to you; however, pray come in and take away these jars of olives, together with my baggage, and I will follow you as soon as I have taken my leave of him.”
The seamen carried away his jars and baggage, and on leaving Camaralzaman desired him to follow them immediately; “The wind is fair,” added the captain, “and I only wait for you to set sail.”
As soon as the captain and seamen were gone, Camaralzaman returned to the gardener to bid him farewell, and thank him for all the good offices he had received from him; but he found him at the point of death, and he had scarcely obtained from him the profession of his faith, according to the custom of good mussulmen, on the article of death, than he saw him expire.
The prince being under the necessity of embarking immediately, used the utmost diligence in performing the last duties to the deceased. He washed the body, wrapped it in the sepulchral clothes, and having dug a grave in the garden, for as Mahometans were barely tolerated in the city of idolaters, they had no public cemetery, and buried it himself, which employed him till the close of the day. He then set out, without losing any more time, to embark; and to use great dispatch, he took the key of the garden with him, intending to deliver it to the proprietor; or, if he could not accomplish that, to give it to some trusty person, in the presence of witnesses, to remit it to him. But when he arrived at the harbour, he was informed that the ship had weighed anchor some time, and it was already out of sight. They added, that it had waited for him three full hours before it set sail.
As you may suppose, Sire, Camaralzaman was vexed and distressed to the utmost degree, at finding himself obliged to remain in a country, where he had no motive for wishing to form any acquaintance, and to wait another year before the opportunity he had just lost, would again present itself. What mortified him still more was, that he had parted with the talisman of the princess Badoura, which he now gave up for lost. He had no other method to pursue, but to return to the garden he had left, to rent it of the landlord to whom it belonged, and to continue the cultivation of it, while he deplored his misfortune. As he could not support the fatigue of all the labour it required, he hired a boy to assist him; and that he might not lose the other share of the treasure, which came to him by the death of the gardener, who had died without heirs, he put the gold dust into fifty other jars, and covered them with olives as he had done before, that he might take them with him, when the time came for him to embark.
While prince Camaralzaman was beginning another year of pain, sorrow, and impatience, the vessel continued its voyage with a favorable wind, and arrived without any misfortune al the capital of the Isle of Ebony.
As the palace was on the sea-shore, the new king, or rather the princess Badoura, who perceived the vessel, while sailing into port, with all its flags flying, inquired what ship it was, and was told, that it came every year from the city of idolaters at that season, and that it was in general laden with very rich merchandize.
The princess, who in the midst of all the state and splendor that surrounded her, had her mind constantly occupied with the idea of Camaralzaman, conceived, that he might have embarked on board that vessel, and the thought occurred to her of going to meet him when he landed, not intending to make herself known to him, for she was convinced he would not recognise her, but to observe him, and take the measures she thought most proper for their mutual discovery. Under pretence therefore of inspecting the merchandize, and even of being the first to see and to choose the most valuable for herself, she ordered a horse to be brought her. She went to the harbour, accompanied by several officers, who happened to be with her, and she arrived at the moment that the captain came on shore. She desired him to come to her, and inquired of him from whence he had sailed, how long he had been at sea, what good or unfortunate incidents he had met with during his voyage, if he had amongst his passengers any stranger of distinction, and above all with what his vessel was laden.
The captain gave satisfactory answers to all these questions; as for the passengers, he assured her there were none besides the merchants, who were accustomed to trade thither, and that they brought very rich stuffs from different countries, linens of the finest texture, painted as well as plain, precious stones, musk, ambergris, camphor, civet, spices, medicinal drugs, olives, and several other articles.
The princess Badoura happened to be passionately fond of olives. She had no sooner heard them mentioned, than she said to the captain, “I will take all you have on board; order them to be unladen immediately, that I may make the bargain for them. As for the other merchandize, you will inform the owners to bring me the most beautiful and valuable of their goods, before they show them to any one.”
“Sire,” replied the captain, who took her for the king of the Isle of Ebony, which in fact she was, in her feigned character, “there are fifty large jars of olives, but they belong to a merchant, who remained behind. I had informed him of my departure, and even waited for him some time. But as I found he did not come, and that his delay prevented my profiting by a favorable wind, I lost all patience, and set sail.”—“Let them be put ashore nevertheless,” replied the princess, “this shall not prevent our making the bargain.”
The captain sent his boat to the ship, and it soon returned, bringing the jars of olives. The princess inquired what the value of the fifty jars might be in the Isle of Ebony; “Sire,” replied the captain, “the merchant is very poor; your majesty will confer a great obligation on him by giving him a thousand pieces of silver.”—“That he may be perfectly satisfied,” said the princess, “and in consideration of his great poverty, you shall have a thousand pieces of gold counted out to you, which you will take care to give him.” She gave orders for the payment of this sum, and after she had desired the jars to be taken away, she returned to the palace.
As night approached, the princess Badoura retired to the interior palace, and went to the apartment of the princess Haiatalnefous, where she had the fifty jars of olives brought to her. She had opened one to taste them, and to eat of them herself; and poured some into a dish, when, conceive her astonishment, at finding the olives mixed with gold dust. “What a wonderful adventure!” exclaimed she. She immediately ordered the other jars to be opened, and emptied in her presence by the women of Haiatalnefous, and her surprise increased, as she perceived that the olives in each jar were mixed with the gold dust. But when that was emptied in which Camaralzaman had deposited the talisman, her emotions on seeing it were so strong, that she was quite overcome, and fainted away.
The princess Haiatalnefous and her women ran to her assistance, and by throwing water on her face, at length brought her to herself. When she had recovered her senses, she took up the talisman, and kissed it several times; but as she did not choose to say any thing before the princess’s women, who were ignorant of her disguise, and as it was time to retire to rest, she dismissed them. “Princess,” said she to Haiatalnefous, as soon as they were alone, “after what I have related to you of my adventures you no doubt guessed, that it was on beholding this talisman that I fainted. It is mine, and the fatal cause of the separation that has taken place between my beloved husband, prince Camaralzaman, and myself. It was the occasion of an event so painful for both, and I am certain it will be the means of our speedy re-union.”
The next morning, as soon as day had appeared, the princess Badoura sent for the captain of the vessel. When he was come, she said to him, “I beg you to give me a more satisfactory account of the merchant, to whom the olives belonged, that I bought yesterday. I think you told me, that you left him behind in the city of idolaters; can you inform me what was his occupation there?”
“Sire,” replied the captain, “I can acquaint your majesty with it, as I know it for certain. I had agreed about his passage with a gardener, who was extremely old, and he told me that I should find him in his garden, the situation of which he pointed out to me, where he worked under him; this made me say to your majesty, that he was poor. I went to this very garden to seek him, and tell him that I was going to embark, and spoke to him myself.”
“If this be the case,” said the princess, “you must set sail again to-day, and return to the city of idolaters, to search for this young gardener, and bring him here, for he is my debtor; if you refuse, I declare that I will confiscate not only all the goods which belong to you, and those of the merchants you have on board, but will also make your life and that of the merchants responsible for it. At this moment, they are going by my command to place the seal on the magazines where they are deposited, and which shall not be taken off until you have delivered into my hands the young man I require. This is what I had to say to you. Go, and obey my orders.”
The captain had nothing to reply to this command, the non-execution of which was to involve him and the merchants in so severe a punishment. He imparted it to them, and they were no less anxious than himself for the immediate departure of the vessel: he stored it with water and provisions for the voyage, which was done with so much expedition, that he set sail on that very day.
The ship had a very good voyage, and the captain managed so well, as to arrive by night at the city of idolaters. When he was as near land as he thought necessary, he did not cast anchor, but while the vessel lay to, he got into his boat, and rowed to shore at a spot a little distance from the harbour, from whence he went to the garden of Camaralzaman, accompanied by six of his most resolute seamen.
The prince was not asleep; his separation from the beautiful princess of China overwhelmed him as usual with affliction, and he detested and cursed the moment when he had suffered himself to be tempted by curiosity even to touch, much more to examine her girdle. He passed, in this manner, the hours which should have been dedicated to repose, when he heard a knocking at the gate of the garden. He went half dressed to open it, and he had scarcely presented himself, when the captain and sailors, without speaking a word, seized and conducted him by main force to the boat, and took him to the ship, which set sail again as soon as they had re-embarked.
Camaralzaman, who had till then preserved a profound silence, as well as the captain and seamen, now asked the captain, whose features he recollected, what reason he had for dragging him away with so much violence. “Are you not a debtor to the king of the Island of Ebony?” inquired the captain in his turn. “I a debtor to the king of the Island of Ebony!” exclaimed Camaralzaman, with amazement, “I do not know him, I never had any dealings with him, nor even ever set my foot in his dominions.”—“You must know that matter better than I can,” replied the captain, “but you will speak to him yourself; however, remain here quietly, and have patience.”
The vessel had as successful a voyage in conducting Camaralzaman to the Isle of Ebony, as it had experienced in going for him to the city of idolaters. Although night had closed when they got into port, the captain nevertheless did not delay going on shore to take prince Camaralzaman to the palace, where he requested to be presented to the king.
The princess Badoura, who had already retired into the inner palace, was no sooner informed of his return, and of the arrival of Camaralzaman, than she went out to speak to him. As soon as she had cast her eyes on her beloved prince, for whom she had shed so many tears since their separation, she instantly recognised him, even in his labourer’s dress. As for the prince, who trembled in the presence of a king, as he believed him to be, to whom he was to answer for an imaginary debt; he had not the least idea that he was then in her presence, whom he desired so ardently to rejoin. Had the princess followed her inclinations, she would have run to him, and discovered herself by her tender embraces; but she restrained her emotions, as she thought it for the interest of both that she should continue to sustain the character of king for some time longer, before she made herself known. She contented herself with recommending him particularly to the care of an officer, who was present, charging him to be attentive, and treat him well until the following day.
When the princess Badoura had ordered every thing that related to prince Camaralzaman, she turned towards the captain, to recompence him for the important service he had rendered her, by desiring another officer to go immediately and take off the seal which had been placed on his merchandise, as well as that of the merchants, and dismissed him with a present of a rich and precious diamond, which fully repaid him the expence of the second voyage. She told him also, that he might keep the thousand pieces of gold, which had been paid for the jars of olives, and that she should know how to settle the matter with the merchant he had just brought her.
She at length returned to the apartment of the princess of the Isle of Ebony, to whom she related the subject of her joy; begging her nevertheless not to disclose the secret, and entrusting her with the measures she thought it necessary to adopt, before she discovered herself to prince Camaralzaman, or acknowledged who he himself was. “There is,” added she, “so great a distance between the rank of a great prince as he is, and that of a gardener, that there might be some danger attending his passing from one of the lowest degrees of the people to the very highest, however justice might demand such an act.” Far from being faithless to her promise, the princess of the Isle of Ebony concurred with her in the design she had formed. She even assured her, that she would contribute all in her power to forward it, if she would inform her of what she wished her to do.
The next day the princess of China, under the name, habit, and authority of king of the Isle of Ebony, after taking care to have prince Camaralzaman conducted to the bath very early in the morning, and dressed in the robe of an emir, or governor of a province, introduced him into the council, where he attracted the attention of all the nobles, who were present, by his elegant and majestic air, and well-formed person.
The princess Badoura herself was charmed to see him again, as amiable as he had so often appeared to her; and she felt additional interest in extolling him to the council. After he had taken his place in the rank of emirs, according to her directions: “My lords,” said she, addressing the other emirs, “Camaralzaman, whom I this day present to you as your colleague, is not unworthy of the situation he occupies amongst you. I have had sufficient experience of his worth in my travels, to be able to answer for him; and I can assure you, that he will make himself known to, and admired by you, as much for his valour, and a thousand other good and amiable qualities, as by the superior greatness of his mind.
Camaralzaman was extremely surprised, when he heard the king of the Isle of Ebony, whom he little suspected to be a woman, much less his adored princess, call him by his name; and assure the assembly that he knew him, when he was himself convinced, that he had never met him in any place: he was still more astonished at the unexpected praise the king bestowed on him.
This praise, however, although pronounced by royal lips, did not disconcert him; he received it with a modesty that proved he deserved it, but that it did not excite his vanity. He prostrated himself before the throne of the king, and when he arose, he said, “Sire, I cannot find words to express my thanks to your majesty for the great honor you have conferred on me, much less for all your kindness. I will exert myself, to the utmost of my abilities, to deserve both the one and the other.”
When he left the council, the prince was conducted by an officer to a large mansion, which the princess Badoura had already ordered to be furnished, and prepared for his reception. He there found officers and servants ready to receive his commands, and a stable filled with very fine horses; the whole suited to the dignity of an emir, which had just been conferred on him; and when he went into his closet, his steward presented him with a coffer full of gold for his expenses. The less he was able to guess from what quarter this good fortune came, the greater was his surprise and admiration: but he never entertained the least suspicion that it was his own princess who was the cause of the whole.
At the end of two or three days, the princess Badoura, to afford Camaralzaman more frequent access to her person, as well as to raise him to higher distinction, bestowed on him the office of grand treasurer, which had become vacant. He acquitted himself in this new office with so much integrity, at the same time conferring obligations on every one, that he acquired not only the friendship of all the nobles about the court, but also won the hearts of the common people by his rectitude and generosity.
Camaralzaman would have been the happiest of men, to find himself in such high favour with a king, who, as he supposed, was an entire stranger to him, and thus to obtain the esteem of every one, which daily increased, had he possessed his princess also. But in the midst of all his splendour he never ceased lamenting her loss, and that he could gain no information respecting her in a country, where he concluded she must have passed some time, since he had been separated from her by an accident, so unfortunate for both. He might have suspected something, if the princess Badoura had retained the name of Camaralzaman, which she assumed with his dress. But when she ascended the throne, she changed it for that of Armanos, in compliment to the former king, her father-in-law. So that she was now known only by the name of King Armanos the younger, and there were only a few courtiers who remembered the name of Camaralzaman, which she bore on her first arrival at the Island of Ebony. Camaralzaman had not yet had sufficient intercourse with them to learn this circumstance; but he might in the end have been informed of it.
As the princess Badoura feared that it might so happen; and as she wished Camaralzaman to be indebted to her only for the discovery, she resolved at length to put an end to her own torments, and to those she well knew he suffered. In fact, she had remarked, that whenever she conversed with him on the affairs relating to his office, he frequently heaved deep sighs, which could only be silent addresses to her. She herself lived in a state of constant restraint, which she was determined to put a period to without further delay. Besides which, the friendship of the nobles, the zeal and affection of the people, every thing contributed to persuade her that the crown of the Island of Ebony might be placed on his head without any obstacle.
The princess Badoura had no sooner formed this resolution, in concert with the princess Haiatalnefous, than she spoke to prince Camaralzaman, in private, on the same day: “Camaralzaman,” said she, “I wish to converse with you on an affair, which will require some discussion, and on which I want your advice. As I think I cannot do it more conveniently than at night, come to me this evening; tell your people not to wait for you, and I will provide you with a bed.”
Camaralzaman did not fail to repair to the palace at the hour appointed by the princess. She took him with her into the inner palace, and having told the chief of the eunuchs, who was preparing to follow her, that she did not require his attendance, and that he had only to keep the door fastened, she conducted him into a different apartment from that of the princess Haiatalnefous, in which she was accustomed to sleep.
When the prince and princess were in a chamber, which contained a bed, and had fastened the door, the princess took the talisman out of a little box, and presented it to Camaralzaman: “It is not long since an astrologer gave me this talisman,” said she, “and as I know you to be well informed in every science, you perhaps can tell me its peculiar properties.” Camaralzaman took the talisman, and approached a light, to examine it. He no sooner recognised it, than, with a degree of surprise which delighted the princess, he exclaimed, “Ah, sire, your majesty asks me the properties of this talisman? Alas! its properties are such, as to make me die with grief and sadness, if I do not shortly find the most charming and amiable princess that was ever beheld under heaven, to whom this talisman belonged, and which was the cause of my losing her. The adventure was of so singular a nature, that the recital of it would excite your majesty’s compassion for a husband and a lover so unfortunate as I am, if you would have the patience to listen to it.”
“You will relate it to me some other time,” replied the princess, “but I am very happy,” added she, “to tell you, that I know something concerning it: wait for me here, I will return in a moment.”
Saying this, the princess went into a closet, where she took off the royal turban, and having in a few minutes put on a woman’s dress, together with the girdle she wore on the day of their separation, she returned to the chamber where she had left the prince.
Camaralzaman instantly knew his dear princess. He ran to her, and embracing her with the utmost tenderness, “Ah,” cried he, “how much I am obliged to the king for having surprised me so agreeably.”—“Do not expect to see the king again,” replied the princess, embracing him in her turn, and with tears in her eyes, “in me you behold the king: sit down, that I may explain to you this enigma.”
They seated themselves, and the princess related to Camaralzaman the resolution she had formed in the plain, where they had encamped together for the last time, when she discovered that she waited for him in vain; in what manner she had executed it until her arrival at the Isle of Ebony, where she had been obliged to marry the princess Haiatalnefous, and to accept the crown, which king Armanos had offered her in consequence of the marriage; that the princess, whose merits she spoke of in the most exaggerated terms, had received the declaration she had made of her sex in a favourable manner; and at last acquainted him with the adventure of the talisman, found in one of the jars of olives and gold dust, which she had purchased, and which had induced her to send for him to the city of idolaters.
When the princess Badoura had concluded, she begged the prince to inform her by what accident the talisman had occasioned his departure; he satisfied her curiosity, and when he had finished, he complained to her, in an affectionate manner, of her cruelty in making him languish so long a time. She gave him the reasons we have already heard, after which, as the night was far advanced, they went to bed.
They arose the next morning, as soon as it was day; the princess no longer wore the royal robe, but resumed her own dress, and when she was ready, she dispatched the chief of the eunuchs, to request king Armanos, her father-in-law, to take the trouble of coming to her apartment.
When king Armanos arrived, he was very much surprised to see a lady, who was totally unknown to him; and the grand treasurer, who was not allowed to enter the inner palace, any more than the other nobles belonging to the court. When he had taken his seat, he inquired for the king.
“Sire,” replied the princess, “yesterday I was king; to-day I am nothing more than the princess of China, the wife of the true prince Camaralzaman, who is the true son of king Schahzaman. If your majesty will have the patience to listen to our separate histories, I flatter myself you will not condemn me for having conceived and continued a deceit of so innocent a nature.” King Armanos granted her an audience, and listened to her with the utmost astonishment, from beginning to end.
When she had concluded the history of their adventures, “Sire,” added she, “although the liberty, granted by our religion to men to have several wives, is not very agreeable to our sex, yet if your majesty will consent to give the princess Haiatalnefous, your daughter, in marriage to prince Camaralzaman, I will cheerfully resign the rank and quality of queen, which properly belongs to her, and will myself be content with the second rank. Even if this preference were not her due, I should have insisted on her accepting it, after the obligation I am under to her, for having so generously kept the secret with which I entrusted her. If your majesty’s determination depends upon her consent, I have already obtained that, and am certain she will be happy.”
King Armanos listened with every mark of admiration to this discourse of the princess Badoura; and when she had finished speaking, he turned to prince Camaralzaman, “My son,” said he to him, “since the princess Badoura, your wife, whom I had hitherto considered as my son-in-law, in consequence of a deception which I know not how to complain of, has offered to share your bed with my daughter, I have nothing to do but to inquire if you also are willing to marry her, and will accept the crown, which the princess Badoura would well deserve to wear for the rest of her life, if she did not prefer resigning it through her love for you.”—“Sire,” replied Camaralzaman, “however strong my desire of seeing the king, my father, may be, the obligations I owe to your majesty and to the princess Haiatalnefous are so great and powerful, that I cannot refuse you any thing.”
Camaralzaman was proclaimed king, and married the same day with the greatest magnificence; and he was thoroughly satisfied with the beauty, wit, and affection of the princess Haiatalnefous.
The two queens continued to live together in the same friendship and union which they had hitherto done, and were each well contented with the equality which king Camaralzaman observed in his conduct towards them, in sharing his bed with them alternately.
They each presented him with a son in the same year, and nearly at the same period, and the birth of the two princes was celebrated by public rejoicings. Camaralzaman gave the name of Amgiad, or “the most glorious,” to the first, whom the queen Badoura had borne, and that of Assad, or “the most happy,” to him whom the queen Haiatalnefous had brought into the world.
These two princes were brought up with great care. And when they were of a proper age, they had each the same governor, and the same masters in all those sciences and branches of the polite arts which king Camaralzaman wished them to be skilled in. The same person also taught them both the same personal exercises. The great regard they showed for each other, even from their infancy, produced a certain uniformity in all their thoughts and actions, which in itself tended still to augment their friendship.
When they were far enough advanced in years for each of them to have a separate house and establishment, they were so strongly attached to each other, that they requested their father to suffer them to have but one between them. They obtained their wishes; and in this manner they had the same officers appointed for each, the same attendants, the same equipage, the same apartment, and the same table. Camaralzaman indeed insensibly placed so implicit a confidence both in their ability and their ideas of rectitude, that, when they were about nineteen years old, he did not hesitate to appoint them alternately to preside at the council, whenever he was for a few days engaged in hunting.
As these two princes were of equal beauty, both in face and person, and had always been esteemed so from their infancy, the two queens felt an almost incredible attachment to them; yet it nevertheless happened, that the princess Badoura had a greater affection for Assad, the son of queen Haiatalnefous, than she had for Amgiad, her own son: and in the same manner queen Haiatalnefous was much fonder of Amgiad than she was of her own son Assad.
The queens each thought at first that this affection only proceeded from the great friendship they had for each other. But as the princes advanced in age, this regard, which commenced in friendship, changed to a more tender feeling, and at length became the most violent love. The princes, indeed, appeared in their eyes possessed of so many accomplishments, that they were absolutely blinded and led away by their charms. All the infamy of their passion was well known to them, and they made the greatest efforts to resist it: but the freedom and familiarity with which they saw the princes every day, and the continued habit they always had of admiring them from their earliest infancy, of praising them, and of caressing them, which it was scarcely in their power to break themselves of, inflamed their passions to such a degree, that they could get no rest, and lost all their appetite. To heighten their misfortune, as well as that of the princes, the latter had not, so much were they ever accustomed to their manners, the slightest suspicion of this hateful and horrid attachment.
As the two queens had not entrusted each other with the secret of their passion, and as neither of them had the audacity openly to make a declaration of it in person to the prince whom she loved, they both agreed, though unknown to each other, to explain it by letter. And in order to execute this fatal design, they took advantage of the absence of king Camaralzaman, who was gone for a few days on a hunting party.
The day after the king’s departure, prince Amgiad presided at the council, and was employed two or three hours in the afternoon in hearing complaints and administering justice. As he came out from the council, and was going back to the palace, an eunuch took him aside, and gave him a letter from queen Haiatalnefous. Amgiad immediately opened it, and read its contents with the greatest degree of horror. “What,” cried he to the eunuch, the moment he had perused it, and drawing his sabre, “is this the fidelity you owe to your king and master?” And, in saying this, he struck off his head.
He had no sooner done this, than Amgiad went in the greatest possible rage to find his mother, queen Badoura, and with an air that plainly showed his anger, held out the letter to her, and informed her of the contents; first telling her from whom it came. Instead, however, of listening to him, the queen herself began to be angry. “Be assured, my son,” she replied, “that what you tell me is nothing but a calumnious falsehood. Queen Haiatalnefous is both prudent and wise, and indeed I consider it a great act of boldness in you to speak against her with so much insolence.” To this speech of the queen, the prince said, “You are both equally wicked, and were it not for the respect I owe to the king, my father, this day should be the last which Haiatalnefous has to live.”
From the manner in which prince Amgiad conducted himself, queen Badoura might easily judge what she had to expect from prince Assad, who was equally virtuous, and who would not, therefore, receive the similar declaration more favorably, which she intended to make to him. This, however, did not prevent her from pursuing her detestable plan; the next day, therefore, she wrote a letter to him, which she entrusted to an old woman, who had free admission into the palace.
This old woman chose the moment that prince Assad left the council, where he went to preside in turn, as a proper opportunity to execute her commission. The prince took the letter, and without even giving himself time to finish the perusal of it, he was so transported with rage, that he drew his sabre, and punished the old woman as she deserved. He then ran to the apartment of queen Haiatalnefous, his mother, with the letter in his hand. He was going to show it her, but she did not give him time, either for that, or even to open his lips. “I know what you want of me,” she cried, “but you are equally as impertinent as your brother Amgiad. Go, retire; and never again appear in my presence.”
Assad was in the utmost astonishment at these words, which he was totally unprepared for: and they put him into so violent a rage, that he was upon the point of showing the most direful marks of it; he, however, had the resolution to restrain himself, and retired without reply, lest any thing should escape him, unworthy of his own greatness of soul. As prince Amgiad had not mentioned his having received a letter the day before, Assad went to his brother to chide him for his silence, and to mingle his own grief with his; for from what his own mother said, he easily conjectured she was not less criminal than queen Badoura.
The two queens were driven almost to desperation at finding the princes possessed of so much virtue, which, instead of bringing them back to a sense of their duty, made them, in fact, renounce every natural and maternal feeling. They consulted together how they should be able to destroy their sons. They made their women believe, that the princes had themselves endeavoured to violate their persons; and attempted to pass off this trick for a reality by the tears they shed, as well as the lamentations and invectives they uttered. They went and slept in the same bed, as if the resistance they thus pretended to have made, had driven them to the greatest distress.
When king Camaralzaman returned the next day from the chase, he was in so great astonishment at finding the two queens in bed together, bathed in tears, and in a condition they so well knew how to feign, that it excited his compassion. He eagerly inquired of them what had happened to them.
To this question the cunning queens only answered by redoubling their sighs and groans, when, at length, after the greatest entreaty, queen Badoura broke silence, and said, “Considering, sire, the deep yet proper grief with which we are afflicted, we ought not even to expose ourselves to the light of the sun, after the outrage which the princes, your sons, with a brutality almost without example, have attempted. By a conspiracy, altogether unworthy of their illustrious birth, they have had the boldness and insolence during your absence to attempt our honour. We entreat your majesty not to make any further inquiries, our grief is sufficient to explain the rest.”
The king then ordered the two princes to be called, and would absolutely have killed them with his own hand, if old king Armanos, his father-in-law, who happened to be present, had not prevented him. “What, my son,” he cried out, “are you going to do? Do you wish to embrue your hands, nay your very palace, with your own blood? There are other means of punishing them, if they are really guilty of any crime.” In this manner he endeavoured to appease him, and entreated him thoroughly to examine, whether it was quite certain they had committed the crime which was laid to their charge.
It was no difficult task for Camaralzaman so far to get the better of his rage as to refrain from being the executioner of his own children. Having, however, ordered them to be arrested, he desired an emir, called Giondar, to come in the evening to him; and he then commanded him to conduct the princes to the outside of the city, in what part, and to any distance he pleased, and there to take their lives. As a proof also of having executed the orders he thus received, Giondar was not to return without their clothes.
Giondar continued travelling the whole night; and the next morning, as he got off his horse, he informed the princes, with tears in his eyes, of the order he had received. “This command, princes,” said he to them, “is most cruel; and to me it is a mortification of the most painful kind, to have been chosen for the executioner. I wish to God that I could avoid it.”—“Do your duty,” replied they, “we know well enough that you are not the cause of our death; and sincerely pardon you.” In saying this they embraced and took an eternal farewell of each other with so much tenderness and affection, that it was a long time before they could separate. Prince Assad was then the first, who prepared himself to receive his death from the hands of Giondar. “Begin with me,” said he, “that I may not have the grief of seeing my dear brother Amgiad expire.” Amgiad opposed this plan, and Giondar was unable, without again renewing his tears, to witness their amiable contest, which so evidently proved the sincerity and strength of their mutual affection.
This interesting dispute was at last terminated by their entreating Giondar to bind them both together, and place them in such a way, that they might both, as nearly as possible, receive their death at the same moment. “Do not refuse,” they said to him, “to afford two unfortunate brothers the consolation of dying together, who have, not excepting even their innocence in this affair, from their earliest infancy, possessed every thing in common.” Giondar granted the two princes what they wished. He bound them, and having placed them, as he thought, in the most convenient manner to strike off both their heads at one blow, he asked them if they had any request to make to him before their death. “There is only one thing,” answered the princes, “which we wish you to do; and that is, to assure the king, our father, upon your return, that we die innocent: but that we nevertheless do not impute to him the crime of shedding our blood. We know, indeed, that he is not acquainted with the truth of what we are accused.” Giondar promised not to fail doing what they desired, and at the same instant drew out his scimitar; his horse, who was fastened to a tree, alarmed at this action, and also at the glittering of the blade, broke his bridle, and began to gallop over the country at full speed.
This horse was very valuable, and also very richly caparisoned, and Giondar did not at all like the thoughts of losing him. Vexed, therefore, at this accident, instead of cutting off the heads of the princes, he threw down his scimitar and ran after his horse, endeavouring to catch him. The horse, who was both vigorous and playful, galloped about for some time just before Giondar, and led him, by the pursuit, close to a wood, into which he ran. The emir followed him; when the neighing of the horse disturbed a lion, who was asleep. The lion instantly roused himself, but instead of pursuing the horse, he ran directly at Giondar, as soon as he perceived him.