Towards the end of the night, Dinarzade cried, Sister, if I do not
trespass too much upon your complaisance, I would pray you to finish
the history of the king of the Black Islands. Scheherazade having
awaked upon her sister’s call, prepared to give her the
satisfaction she required, and began thus:
The king, half marble and half man, continued his history to the
sultan thus: After this cruel magician, unworthy of the name of a
queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall, by
another enchantment she destroyed my capital, which was very
flourishing, and full of people; she abolished the houses, the
public places and markets, and reduced it to the pond and desert
field, which you may have seen: the fishes of four colours in the
pond are the four sorts of people, of different religions, who
inhabited the place. The white are the Mussulmen; the red, the
Persians, who worshipped the fire; the blue, the Christians; and the
yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that
gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the magician,
who, to add to my affliction, told me with her own mouth those
effects of her rage. But this is not all: her revenge was not
satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the
metamorphosis of my person; she comes every day, and gives me over
my naked shoulders a hundred blows with an ox-pizzle, which makes me
all over blood: and when she has done, covers me with a coarse stuff
of goat’s hair, and throws over it this robe of brocade that you
see, not to do me honour, but to mock me.
After this part of the discourse, the young king could not withhold
his tears; and the sultan’s heart was so pierced with the
relation, that he could not speak one word to comfort him. A little
time after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, cried
out, “Mighty Creator of all things, I submit myself to thy
judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence: I endure my
calamities with patience, since it is thy will it should be so; but
I hope thy infinite goodness will reward me for it.”
The sultan being much moved by the recital of so strange a story,
and animated to avenge this unfortunate prince, says to him, Tell me
whither this perfidious magician retires, and where may be her
unworthy gallant, who is buried before his death. My lord, replies
the prince, her gallant, as I have already told you, is in the
Palace of Tears, in a handsome tomb in form of a dome, and that
palace joins to this castle on the side of the gate. As to the
magician, I cannot precisely tell whither she retires, but every day
at sun-rising she goes to see her gallant, after having executed her
bloody vengeance upon me, as I have told you; and you see I am not
in a condition to defend myself against so great a cruelty. She
carries him the drink with which she has hitherto prevented his
dying, and always complains of his never speaking to her since he
was wounded.
Unfortunate prince, says the sultan, you can never enough be
lamented! Nobody can be more sensibly touched with your condition
than I am; never did such an extraordinary misfortune befal any man,
and those who write your history will have the advantage to relate
something that surpasses all that has ever yet been written. There
wants but the vengeance which is due to you, and I will omit nothing
that can be done to procure it.
While the sultan discoursed upon the subject with the young prince,
he told him who he was, and for what end he entered the castle, and
thought on a way to avenge him, which he communicated to him. They
agreed upon the measures they were to take for effecting their
design, but deferred the execution of it till the next day. In the
mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but
the poor young prince passed the night without sleep, as usual,
having never slept since he was enchanted; but conceived some hopes
of being speedily delivered from his misery.
Next morning the sultan got up before day, and, in order to execute
his design, he hid in a corner his upper garment, which would have
encumbered him, and went to the Palace of Tears. He found it
enlightened with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and a
delicious scent issued from several boxes of fine gold of admirable
workmanship, all ranged in excellent order. As soon as he saw the
bed where the black lay, he drew his scimitar, killed the wretch
without resistance, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle,
and threw it into a well. After this he went and lay down in the
black’s bed, took his scimitar with him under the counterpane, and
waited there to execute his design.
The magician arrived in a little time. She first went into the
chamber where her husband, the king of the Black Islands, was,
stripped him, and beat him with the ox-pizzle in the most barbarous
manner. The poor prince filled the palace with his lamentations to
no purpose, and conjured her in the most affecting manner to take
pity on him; but the cruel woman would not give over till she had
given him a hundred blows. You had no compassion on my lover, said
she, and you are to expect none from me. Scheherazade, perceiving
day, stopped, and could go no further.
O, heavens! says Dinarzade, sister, this was a barbarous enchantress
indeed! but must we stop here? Will you not tell us whether she
received the chastisement she deserved? My dear sister, says the
sultaness, I desire nothing more than to acquaint you with it
to-morrow; but you know that depends on the sultan’s pleasure.
After what Schahriar had heard, he was far from any design to put
Scheherazade to death; on the contrary, he said to himself, I will
not take away her life until she has finished the surprising story,
though it should last for two months. It will always be in my power
to keep the oath I have made.