beg; I am not only ready to lose one of my eyes to preserve one of
yours, but even to sacrifice my life for you; but this is not the
business I am come upon; I come to tell you, that Schemselnihar sent
her confidential slave to me, to inquire how you are, and at the
same time to give you some information respecting her. You may
imagine, that I did not say any thing but what must confirm her
belief of the excess of your love for her mistress, and of the
constancy with which you adore her.” Ebn Thaher then gave him an
exact detail of every thing the slave had told him. The prince heard
it with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, tenderness,
and compassion, which such a relation was likely to inspire; and
made on each circumstance such reflections, either of an afflicting
or consoling nature, as so passionate a lover could be capable of.
The conversation lasted so long, that the night being far advanced,
the prince of Persia made Ebn Thaher remain at his house. The next
morning, as this faithful friend was returning home, he saw a woman
coming towards him, whom he soon recognised to be the confidential
slave of Schemselnihar: when she came up to him, “My mistress,”
said she, “salutes you, and I come from her to beg you to deliver
this letter to the prince of Persia.” The friendly Ebn Thaher took
the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confidant.
When they had got there, he begged her to remain a few minutes in
the anti-chamber, and wait for him. As soon as the prince saw him,
he anxiously inquired what news he had to announce. “The best you
can possibly wish,” replied Ebn Thaher, “you are beloved as
tenderly as you love. The confidant of Schemselnihar is in your
anti-chamber; she brings you a letter from your mistress, and only
waits your orders to present herself before you.”--“Let her come
in,” cried the prince, in a transport of joy; and saying this he
raised himself in his bed to receive her.
As the attendants of the prince had left the room when Ebn Thaher
entered it, that he might be alone with their master, Ebn Thaher
went to open the door himself, and desire the confidant to come in.
The prince recollected her, and received her in a very obliging
manner. “My lord,” said she, “I know all the pains you have
suffered, since I had the honour of conducting you to the boat,
which waited to take you back; but I hope, that the letter I bring
you will contribute to your recovery.” She then presented to him
the letter; he took it, and after having kissed it several times, he
opened it, and read the following words:
“SCHEMSELNIHAR TO ALI EBN BECAR, PRINCE OF PERSIA.
“The person who will deliver this letter to you, will give you an
account of me better than I can myself; for I know nothing, since I
ceased beholding you. Deprived of your presence, I seek to continue
the illusion, and converse with you by means of these ill-formed
lines, which afford me some pleasure, while I am prevented the
happiness of speaking to you.
“Patience, they say, is the remedy for all evils: yet those I
suffer are increased instead of relieved by it. Although your image
is indelibly engraven on my heart, my eyes nevertheless wish again
to behold the original; and their sight will forsake them, if they
remain deprived of that gratification for any length of time. Dare I
flatter myself, that yours experience the same impatience to see me?
Yes, I may; they have sufficiently proved it to me by their tender
glances. Happy would Schemselnihar be, happy would you be, prince,
if my wishes, which are conformable to yours, were not opposed by
insurmountable obstacles! These obstacles occasion me an affliction
so much the more poignant, as they are the cause of sorrow to you.
“These sentiments, which my fingers trace, and in expressing of
which I feel such inconceivable pleasure, that I cannot repeat them
too often, proceed from the bottom of my heart; from that incurable
wound you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times,
notwithstanding the cruel sufferings I endure in your absence. I
should little heed all that opposes our love, were I only permitted
to see you occasionally without restraint. You would then be mine;
and what more could I desire?
“Do not imagine that my words convey more than I feel. Alas!
whatever expressions I may use, I shall still think much more than I
can ever say. My eyes, which never cease looking for you, and
incessantly weep till they shall behold you again; my afflicted
heart which seeks but you; my sighs which escape my lips, whenever I
think on you, and that is continually; my imagination which never
reflects any object but my beloved prince; the complaints I utter to
Heaven of the rigour of my fate; in short, my melancholy, my
uneasiness, my sufferings from which I have had no respite since I
lost sight of you, are all sufficient pledges of the truth of what I
write.
“Am I not truly unfortunate to be born to love, love, without
indulging the hope of possessing the object of my affections? This
distracting reflection overpowers me to such a degree, that I should
die, were I not persuaded that you love me. But this sweet
consolation counteracts my despair, and attaches me to life. Tell me
that you love me still. I will preserve your letter with precious
care; I will read it a thousand times a-day; and I shall then bear
my sorrows with less impatience. I pray that heaven may no longer be
irritated against us, and may grant us an opportunity of telling
each other, without restraint, the tender affection we feel, and
that we will never cease to love. Farewell.
“I salute Ebn Thaher, to whom we each have so many obligations.”
The prince of Persia was not satisfied with reading this letter only
once; he thought he had not bestowed sufficient attention on it; he
read it again more deliberately, and while thus engaged he
alternately uttered deep sighs and wept; he then would burst into
transports of joy and tenderness, according to the different
emotions he experienced from the contents of the letter. In short,
he could not withdraw his eyes from the characters, traced by so
dear a hand, and he was going to read it a third time, when Ebn
Thaher represented to him, that the slave had no time to lose, and
that he must prepare an answer. “Alas!” cried the prince, “how
can I reply to so obliging and kind a letter? In what terms shall I
describe the state of my soul? My mind is agitated by a thousand
distressing thoughts, and my sentiments are destroyed, before I have
time to express them by others, which in their turn are erased as
soon as formed. While my body is so much in unison with the
situation of my mind, how shall I be able to hold the paper and
guide the cane to form the letters?”
Saying this, he drew from a little writing-case, which was near him,
some paper, a cut cane, and an ink-horn; but before he began to
write, he gave the letter of Schemselnihar to Ebn Thaher, and begged
him to hold it open whilst he wrote, that by occasionally casting
his eyes over it, he might be better enabled to answer it. He took
up the writing-cane to begin; but the tears, which flowed from his
eyes on the paper, frequently obliged him to stop to allow them a
free current. He at length finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn
Thaher, “Do me the favor to read it,” said he, “and see, if
the agitation my spirits are in, has allowed me to write a proper
answer.” Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:
“THE PRINCE OF PERSIA TO SCHEMSELNIHAR.
“I was plunged in the deepest affliction, when your letter was
delivered into my hands. At the sight of it alone I was transported
with a joy I cannot express; but on reading the lines, which your
beautiful hand had traced, my eyes were sensible of greater pleasure
than that which they lost when yours so suddenly closed on the
evening you fell senseless at my rival’s feet. The words contained
in your obliging letter, are so many luminous rays that enliven the
obscurity in which my soul was enveloped. They convince me how much
you suffer for me, and also prove, that you are not ignorant of what
I endure for you, and thus console me in my pain. At one moment they
cause my tears to flow in abundant streams; at another, they inflame
my heart with an unextinguishable fire, which supports it, and
prevents my expiring with grief. I have not tasted one instant’s
repose since our too cruel separation. Your letter alone procured me
some relief from my misery. I preserved an uninterrupted silence
till it was placed in my hands; but that has restored speech to me.
I was wrapped in the most profound melancholy; but that has inspired
me with a joy, which instantly proclaimed itself in my eyes and
countenance. My surprise at receiving a favor so unmerited on my
part, was so great, that I knew not how to express myself to testify
my gratitude. In short, after having kissed it many times, as the
precious pledge of your goodness, I perused and re-perused it till I
was quite lost in the excess of my happiness. You tell me to say,
that I love you still; ah! had my love for you been less passionate,
less tender than that which occupies my whole soul, could I have
done otherwise than adore you after all the proofs you give me of so
uncommon an affection? Yes, I love you, my dearest life; and shall,
to the end of my existence, glory in the pure flame which you have
kindled in my heart. I will never complain of the vivid fire which
consumes it; and, however rigorous the pains which your absence
occasions may be, I will support them with constancy and firmness,
encouraged by the hope of beholding you again. Would to God it were
to-day, and that, instead of sending you this letter, I might be
permitted to present myself before you, and assure you that I die
for love of you. My tears prevent me from adding any more.
Farewell.”
Ebn Thaher could not read the last lines without shedding tears
himself. He returned the letter to the prince, assuring him it
needed no correction. The prince folded it up, and when he had
sealed it: “I beg you to approach,” said he to the confidential
slave, who had retired a little; “this is the answer I have
written to the letter of your dear mistress. I entreat you to take
it to her, and to salute her from me.” The slave took the letter,
and retired with Ebn Thaher, who, after he had walked with her some
way, left her and returned to his house, where he began to make some
serious reflections on the love intrigue in which he found himself
so unfortunately and deeply engaged. He considered that the prince
of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding the strong interest
they had in concealing their connection, behaved with so little
discretion, that it could not long remain a secret. He drew from
thence all the unfavorable conclusions which must naturally suggest
themselves to a man of good sense. “If Schemselnihar,” thought
he, “was not a lady of such high rank, I would exert myself to the
utmost of my abilities to make her and her lover happy; but as she
is the favorite of the caliph, no one can aspire to obtain her with
impunity who has gained his affections. His anger will first fall on
Schemselnihar; the prince will not escape with life; and I shall be
involved in his misfortune. But I have my honor, my peace of mind,
my family, and my property to take care of; I must then, while it is
in my power, endeavour to extricate myself from so perilous a
situation.”
His mind was occupied with thoughts of this nature for the whole of
that day. The following morning he went to the prince of Persia,
with the intention of making one last effort to induce him to
conquer his unfortunate passion. In fact, he represented to him what
he had before mentioned, to no effect; that he would do much better
to exert all his courage to overcome this attachment to
Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be led away to destruction
by its means; that his love for her was of a more dangerous nature
to himself, as his rival was so powerful. “In short, my lord,”
added he, “if you will take my advice, you will endeavour to
overcome your affection; otherwise you run the risk of causing the
destruction of Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you
than your own. I give you this counsel as a friend; and some day you
will thank me for it.”
The prince listened to Ebn Thaher with evident impatience;
nevertheless he allowed him to finish what he wished to say; but
when he had concluded, he said, “Ebn Thaher, do you suppose that I
can cease loving Schemselnihar, who returns my affection with so
much tenderness? She does not hesitate to expose her life for me,
and can you imagine, that the care of preserving mine should occupy
me a single moment? No; whatever misfortunes may be the consequence,
I will love Schemselnihar to my latest breath.”
Ebn Thaher, offended with the obstinacy of the prince, left him
abruptly, and returned home: where, recollecting his reflections on
the preceding day, he began to consider very seriously what course
he should pursue.
While he was thus occupied, a jeweller, an intimate friend of his,
came to see him. This jeweller had observed, that the confidential
slave of Schemselnihar had been with Ebn Thaher more frequently than
usual: and that he had been almost incessantly with the prince of
Persia, whose indisposition was known to every one, although the
cause was not; all this had created some suspicions in the
jeweller’s mind. As Ebn Thaher appeared to be absorbed in thought,
he supposed that some important affair occasioned it; and thinking
he had hit on it, he asked him what business the slave of
Schemselnihar had with him. Ebn Thaher was a little confused at this
question; but not choosing to confess the truth, he replied, that it
was only for some trifling thing that she came to him so often.
“You do not speak sincerely,” resumed the jeweller, “and by
your dissimulation you will make me suspect, that this trifle is of
a nature more important than I had at first supposed it.”
Ebn Thaher, finding that his friend pressed him so closely, said,
“It is true; this affair is of the utmost importance. I had
determined to keep it a secret; but as I know you take a lively
interest in every thing that concerns me, I will entrust you with
the truth, rather than suffer you to make conclusions for which
there is no foundation. I do not enjoin you to secrecy, for you will
be sensible, from what I am going to relate, how impossible it would
be to keep such a promise.” After this preface, he related to him
the amours of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia. “You are
aware,” added he, at the conclusion, “in what estimation I am
held by the nobles and ladies of highest rank both in the court and
city. What a disgrace for me, if this story becomes known! But what
do I say? It would be absolute destruction to my whole family as
well as to myself; this consideration embarrasses me the most: but I
have resolved how to act: I owe it to my safety, and I must be firm.
I am going with the greatest diligence to call in my debts, and
satisfy those who are my creditors; and after I have secured all my
property, I will retire to Balsora, where I will remain till the
storm I see gathering over my head is passed. The friendship I feel
for Schemselnihar, and for the prince of Persia, makes me very
anxious on their account; I pray God to make them sensible of the
danger to which they expose themselves, and to preserve them. But if
their luckless destiny condemns their attachment to be known to the
caliph, I at least shall be sheltered from his resentment; for I do
not suspect them of sufficient malice to entangle me in their
misfortune. Their ingratitude would be of the blackest die, if they
acted thus; they would then repay with baseness the services I have
done them, and the good advice I have given, particularly to the
prince of Persia, who might still withdraw them from the precipice,
if he were willing, and save his mistress as well as himself. It
would be easy for him to leave Bagdad, as I shall; and absence would
insensibly eradicate a passion which will only increase while he
remains in this city.”
The jeweller heard this recital from Ebn Thaher with very great
astonishment. “What you have now told me,” said he, “is of so
much consequence, that I cannot comprehend how Schemselnihar and the
prince of Persia could be so imprudent as to give way to such a
violent passion. Whatever inclination they might feel for each
other, instead of yielding to its influence, they ought to have
resisted it with firmness, and made a better use of their reason.
Could they be blind to the dreadful consequences of their
connection? How sadly are they mistaken, if they suppose it can
remain secret! I foresee, as well as yourself, the fatal termination
of this affair. But you are prudent and wise, and I entirely approve
the resolution you have formed; it is only by putting it in
execution, that you can escape the direful events you so justly
fear.” After this conversation, the jeweller arose, and took his
leave of Ebn Thaher; but before he left him, the latter entreated
him by the friendship which united them, not to reveal to any one
what he had related to him. “Be easy on that score,” replied the
jeweller, “I will keep the secret at the peril of my life.”
Two days after this, the jeweller happened to pass by the shop of
Ebn Thaher, and observing that it was shut up, he concluded he had
put in execution the design he had communicated to him. To be quite
sure, however, he inquired of a neighbour, if he knew why it was not
open. The neighbour replied, that he knew no more than that Ebn
Thaher had set off on a journey. This was all the jeweller required;
and the first person he thought of, was the prince of Persia.
“Unhappy prince,” thought he, “how grieved you will be to
learn this intelligence! By what means will you now be able to hold
any intercourse with Schemselnihar? I fear despair will put a period
to your existence. I feel compassion for you; and must endeavour to
replace the loss of so timid a friend.”
The business which had led him out was not of immediate consequence;
he therefore neglected that, and although he only knew the prince
from having sold him some jewellery, he nevertheless went to his
house. He requested one of the servants he met at the door, to tell
his master that he wanted to speak to him on an affair of the
greatest importance. The servant soon returned to the jeweller, and
introduced him into the apartment of the prince, whom he found
reclining on a sofa, with his head on the cushion. The prince,
recollecting that he had seen him before, got up to receive him and
give him welcome; and, after having begged him to sit down, he asked
him, if he could render him any service; or if he came on business
which related to him. “Prince,” replied the jeweller,
“although I have not the honor to be much known to you, yet the
zealous desire I have of serving you, has made me take the liberty
of coming to acquaint you of a circumstance which concerns you; I
hope you will pardon this freedom, as it proceeds from a good
intention.”
After this preface, the jeweller began his story, and proceeded
thus: “Prince, you will allow me the honor of telling you, that
the conformity of our minds, together with some affairs we had to
transact with each other, has given rise to a firm friendship which
exists between Ebn Thaher and myself. I know his acquaintance with
you, and that he has, till now, exerted himself to serve you to the
utmost of his ability; this I learned from his own lips, for we
never practise concealment with each other. I just now passed by his
shop, and was surprised to find it shut up. I inquired the reason of
one of his neighbours, who told me, that Ebn Thaher had taken his
leave of him, and of the other neighbours, two days since; at the
same time offering them his services at Balsora, whither he said he
was going on an affair of considerable importance. I was not
thoroughly satisfied with this answer; and the interest I feel in
whatever concerns him, induced me to come to ask you, if you knew
any thing particular about this sudden departure.”
At this speech, to which the jeweller had given that turn he thought
most likely to forward his design, the prince of Persia changed
colour, and looked al the jeweller with an air which evidently
proved how much he was afflicted at this intelligence. “What you
tell me,” said he, “astonishes me; I could not have met with a
more mortifying occurrence. Yes,” cried he, the tears flowing from
his eyes, “I have no hope left, if what you tell me is true! Ebn
Thaher, who was my only consolation and support, forsakes me! I no
longer seek to live after so cruel a blow!”
The jeweller had heard enough to be fully convinced of the violence
of the prince’s love, with which Ebn Thaher had already acquainted
him. Simple friendship does not express itself in such strong
language; love, alone, is capable of inspiring sentiments so
animated.
The prince remained for some minutes absorbed in the most
distracting reflections. He at length raised his head, and
addressing one of his attendants, “Go,” said he, “to Ebn
Thaher’s house; speak to some of his servants, and inquire if it
be true, that he is set off for Balsora. Run there instantly; and
return as quickly as possible, that I may learn what you have
heard.” While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to
converse with the prince on indifferent subjects, but he seemed
totally inattentive; his mind was lost in thought. Sometimes he
could not persuade himself, that Ebn Thaher was really gone; then he
felt convinced of it, when he recollected the conversation he had
held with his friend the last time he had seen him, and the abrupt
manner in which he left him.
At length, the servant of the prince returned, and said, that he had
spoken with one of the people belonging to Ebn Thaher, who assured
him, that he was no longer in Bagdad, and that he had set off two
days since for Balsora. “As I was coming out of the house of Ebn
Thaher,” continued the servant, “a well dressed female slave
accosted me; and having asked me, if I had not the honor of being
one of your attendants, she said, that she wanted to speak to you,
and begged me at the same time to allow her to come with me. She is
in the antichamber, and, I believe, has a letter to deliver from
some person of consequence.” The prince immediately desired that
she might be admitted; not doubting that it was the confidential
slave of Schemselnihar, whom, in fact, she proved to be.
The jeweller knew her again from having met her sometimes at Ebn
Thaher’s, who told him who she was. She could not have arrived at
a more seasonable time, to prevent the prince from giving way to
despair. She saluted him, as he did in return. The jeweller had
risen as soon as she entered, and had withdrawn a little to leave
them at liberty to converse together. The slave, after having
remained some time with the prince, took her leave, and went away.
She left him quite different from what he was before, his eyes
appeared more sparkling, and his countenance more cheerful, which
led the jeweller to suppose, that the good slave had been saying
something favorable to his attachment.
The jeweller, having resumed his place near the prince, said to him
smiling, “I see, prince, you have some important affairs at the
palace of the caliph.” The prince, surprised and alarmed at this
speech, replied, “What induces you to think, that I have any
affairs at the palace of the caliph?”--“I conclude so,”
resumed the jeweller, “from the slave who has just left
you.”--“And to whom do you suppose this slave belongs?”
inquired the prince.--“To Schemselnihar, the Favorite of the
caliph,” replied the jeweller. “I know this slave,” continued
he, “and her mistress also, who has sometimes done me the honor of
coming to my shop to buy jewellery. I know, moreover, that this
slave is admitted into all the secrets of Schemselnihar; I have seen
her for some days past, continually walking about the streets with a
pensive air, from which, I imagine, she is now concerned in
something of consequence, which relates to her mistress.”
These words of the jeweller confused the prince of Persia. He would
not talk to me thus, thought he, if he did not suspect, or rather if
he did not know, my secret. He remained silent for some minutes, not
knowing how to act. At length he spoke, and said to the jeweller,
“You tell me some things, which lead me to think you know still
more than you say. It is very necessary to my peace of mind, that I
should know the whole; I entreat you, therefore, to conceal nothing
from me.”