Dinarzade was actually as good as her word. She called the sultaness
very early, saying, Dear sister, if you be not asleep, pray finish
the agreeable history of the king of the Black Isles; I am ready to
die with impatience to know how he came to be changed into marble.
You shall hear it, replies Scheherazade, if the sultan will give me
leave.
I found the queen lying by me, says the king of the Black Islands: I
cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I got up without
making any noise, and went to my closet, where I made an end of
dressing myself. I afterwards went and held my council, and at my
return, the queen, clad in mourning, her hair hanging about her
eyes, and part of it torn off, presented herself before me, and
said: Sir, I come to beg your majesty not to be surprised to see me
in this condition; three afflicting pieces of news, I have just now
received all at once, are the cause of my heavy grief, of which the
tokens you see are but very faint expressions. Alas! what is that
news, madam, said I. The death of the queen, my dear mother,
answered she; that of the king, my father, killed in battle; and
that of one of my brothers, who is also fallen down a precipice.
I was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide the
true cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected me of
having killed her gallant. Madam, says I, I am so far from blaming
your grief, that I assure you, I take my share in it. I should very
much wonder if you were insensible of so great a loss: mourn on;
your tears are so many proofs of your good nature; I hope, however,
that time and reason will moderate your grief.
She retired into her apartment, where giving herself wholly up to
sorrow, she spent a whole year in mourning, and afflicting herself.
At the end of that time, she begged leave of me to build a burying
place for herself, within the bounds of the palace, where she would
continue, she told me, to the end of her days; I agreed to it, and
she built a stately palace, with a cupola, that may be seen from
hence, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished,
she caused her gallant to be brought thither, from the place whither
she had caused him to be carried the same night that I wounded him;
she had hindered his dying, by a drink she gave him, and carried to
him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.
Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he
was not only unable to walk and to help himself, but had also lost
the use of his speech, and gave no sign of life, but by his looks.
Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say
to him all that her foolish passion could inspire, yet every day she
made him two long visits. I was very well informed of all this, but
pretended to know nothing of it.
One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears, to see how
the princess employed herself; and going to a place where she could
not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am afflicted to
the highest degree to see you in this condition; I am as sensible as
yourself of the tormenting pain you endure; but, dear soul, I always
speak to you, and you do not answer me; How long will you be silent.
Speak only one word: Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are these
I spend here in partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance
from you, and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you, to the
empire of the universe.
At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs
and sobs, I lost all patience; and discovering myself, came up to
her and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to give
over this sorrow, which dishonours us both; you have too much
forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, said she, if you
have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you to put
no restraint upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal grief,
which it is impossible for time to lessen.
When I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her duty,
served only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired. She
continued every day to visit her gallant, and for two whole years
gave herself up to excessive grief.
I went a second time to the Palace of Tears, while she was there. I
hid myself again, and heard her speak thus to her gallant: It is now
three years since you spoke one word to me; you return no answer to
the expressions of love I give you by my discourse and groans. Is it
from insensibility, or contempt? O, tomb! hast thou abated that
excessive love he had for me? Hast thou shut those eyes that showed
me so much love, and were all my joy? No, no, I believe nothing of
it. Tell me rather, by what miracle thou becamest the depository of
the rarest treasure that ever was in the world.
I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these words; for, in
short, this gallant so much doted upon, this adored mortal, was not
such a one as you would imagine him to have been. He was a black
Indian, a native of that country. I say, I was so enraged at that
discourse, that I discovered myself all of a sudden, and addressing
the tomb in my turn: O, tomb! cried I, why dost not thou swallow up
that monster in nature, or rather, why dost not thou swallow up the
gallant and his mistress?
I had scarce finished these words, when the queen, who sat by the
black, rose up like a fury. Cruel man! said she, thou art the cause
of my grief; do not you think that I know it? I have dissembled it
but too long; it is thy barbarous hand which hath brought the object
of my love into this lamentable condition; and you are so
hard-hearted as to come and insult a despairing lover. Yes, said I,
in a rage, it was I who chastised that monster, according to his
desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I repent
now that I did not do it; thou hast abused my goodness too long. As
I spoke these words, I drew out my scimitar, and lifted up my hand
to punish her; but she, steadfastly beholding me, said, with a
jeering smile, Moderate thy anger. At the same time, she pronounced
words I did not understand; and afterwards added, By virtue of my
enchantments, I command thee immediately to become half marble and
half man. Immediately, my lord, I became such as you see me already,
a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead. Here
Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.
Upon which Dinarzade says, Dear sister, I am extremely obliged to
the sultan: it is to his goodness I owe the extraordinary pleasure I
have in your stories. My sister, replies the sultaness, if the
sultan will be so good as to suffer me to live till to-morrow, I
shall tell you a thing that will afford as much satisfaction as any
thing you have yet heard. Though Schahriar had not resolved to defer
the death of Scheherazade a month longer, he could not have ordered
her to be put to death that day.