As soon as Dinarzade thought it time to call the sultaness, she said
to her, How much should I be obliged to you, dear sister, if you
would tell us what passed in the Palace of Tears. Schahriar having
signified that he was as curious to know it as Dinarzade, the
sultaness resumed the story of the young enchanted prince as follows:
Sir, after the enchantress had given the king, her husband, a
hundred blows with the ox-pizzle, she put on again his covering of
goat’s hair, and his brocade gown over all. She went afterwards to
the Palace of Tears, and as she entered the same, she renewed her
tears and lamentations; then approaching the bed where she thought
her gallant was, What cruelty, cries she, was it to disturb the
satisfaction of so tender and passionate a lover as I am? O, thou
who reproachest me that I am too inhuman, when I make thee feel the
effects of my resentment! Cruel prince! Does not thy barbarity
surpass my vengeance? Ah, traitor! in attempting the life of the
object which I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas! says
she, addressing herself to the sultan, while she thought she spoke
to the black, my sun, my life! will you always be silent? Are you
resolved to let me die, without giving me the comfort of telling me
that you love me? My soul, speak one word to me, at least, I conjure
you.
The sultan, making as if he had awaked out of a deep sleep, and
counterfeiting the language or the blacks, answered the queen with a
grave tone, “There is no strength or power but in God alone, who
is almighty.” At these words the enchantress, who did not expect
them, gave a great shout, to signify her excessive joy. My dear
lord, cried she, do not I deceive myself? Is it certain that I hear
you, and that you speak to me? Unhappy wretch! said the sultan, art
thou worthy that I should answer thy discourse? Alas! replies the
queen, why do you reproach me thus? The cries, replied he, the
groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with
so much indignity and barbarity, hinder me from sleeping night and
day. I should have been cured long ago, and have recovered the use
of my speech, hadst thou disenchanted him. That is the cause of my
silence, which you complain of. Very well, says the enchantress; to
pacify you, I am ready to do what you will command me: would you
have me restore him as he was? Yes, replies the sultan; make haste
to set him at liberty, that I be no more disturbed with his cries.
The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears: she
took a cup of water, and pronounced words over it, which caused it
to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She went afterwards to the
hall to the young king, her husband, and threw the water upon him,
saying, “If the Creator of all things did form thee so as thou art
at present, or if he be angry with thee, do not change: but if thou
art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume
thy natural shape, and become what thou wast before.” She had
scarce spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored
to his former condition, rose up freely, with all imaginable joy,
and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, Get
thee gone from this castle, and never return here on pain of death!
The young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the
enchantress, without replying a word, and retired to a remote place,
where he patiently awaited the success of the design which the
sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to
the Palace of Tears; and, supposing that she still spoke to the
black, says, Dear lover, I have done what you ordered; let nothing
now hinder you from giving me that satisfaction of which I have been
deprived so long.
The sultan continued to counterfeit the language of the blacks: That
which you have just now done, said he, is not sufficient to my cure.
You have only eased me of part of my disease; you must cut it up by
the roots. My lovely black, replies she, what do you mean by the
roots? Unfortunate woman, replies the sultan, do not you understand
that I mean the town, and its inhabitants, and the four islands,
which thou hast destroyed by thy enchantments? The fishes every
night at midnight raise their heads out of the pond, and cry for
vengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay
of my cure. Go speedily, restore things as they were, and at thy
return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to rise.
The enchantress, filled with hopes from these words, cried out in a
transport of joy, My heart! my soul! you shall soon be restored to
your health, for I will immediately do what you command me.
Accordingly she went that moment; and when she came to the brink of
the pond, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it
--Here Scheherazade saw day, and stopped.
Dinarzade says to the sultaness, Sister, I am much rejoiced to hear
that the young king of the four Black Islands was disenchanted, and
I already consider the town and the inhabitants as restored to their
former state; but I long to know what will become of the
enchantress. Have a little patience, replies the sultaness; you
shall have the satisfaction you desire tomorrow, if the sultan, my
lord, will consent to it. Schahriar, having resolved on this
already, as was said before, rose up, and went about his business.