accident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but instead of
finding him standing, and looking through the window as before,
he was extremely amazed to discover him Iying at his feet
motionless. This convinced him of the violence of the prince's
passion for Schemselnihar, and he admired that strange effect of
sympathy, which put him into a mortal fear on account of the
place they were in. He did all he could to recover the prince,
but in vain. Ebn Thaher was in this perplexity, when
Schemselnihar's confidant opened the gallery door, and entered
out of breath, as one who knew not where she was. "Come
speedily," cried she "that I may let you out; all is in confusion
here; and I fear this will be the last of our days." "Alas! how
would you have us go?" replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice;
"approach, and see what a condition the prince of Persia is in."
When the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran for water, and
returned in an instant.
At last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his
face, recovered. "Prince," said Ebn Thaher to him, "we run the
risk of perishing if we stay here any longer; exert yourself,
therefore, let us endeavour to save our lives." He was so feeble,
that he could not rise alone; Ebn Thaher and the confidant lent
him their hands, and supported him on each side. They reached a
little iron gate which opened towards the Tigris, went out at it,
and came to the side of a little canal which communicated with
the river. The confidant clapped her hands, and immediately a
little boat appeared, and came towards them with one rower. Ali
Ebn Becar and his comrade went aboard, and the confidant remained
at the side of the canal. As soon as the prince was seated in the
boat, he stretched out one hand towards the palace, and laying
the other on his heart, exclaimed with a feeble voice, "Dear
object of my soul, receive my faith with this hand, while I
assure you with the other, that my heart shall for ever preserve
the fire with which it burns for you."
In the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might, and
Schemselnihar's confidant accompanied the prince of Persia and
Ebn Thaher walking along the side of the canal, until they came
to the Tigris, and when she could go no farther she took leave of
them and returned.
The prince of Persia continued very feeble. Ebn Thaher comforted
him, and exhorted him to take courage. "Consider," said he, "that
when we are landed, we have a great way to walk before we reach
my house, and I would not advise you to go to your palace, which
is a great deal farther, at this hour and in this condition." At
last they went out of the boat, but the prince had so little
strength that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great
perplexity. He recollected he had a friend in the neighbourhood,
and carried the prince thither with great difficulty. His friend
received him very cheerfully, and when he had made them sit down,
he asked them where they had been so late. Ebn Thaher answered,
"I heard this evening that a man who owed me a considerable sum
of money was setting out on a long voyage. I lost no time to find
him, and by the way I met with this young nobleman, to whom I am
under a thousand obligations; for knowing my debtor, he did me
the favour to go along with me. We had a great deal of trouble to
bring the man to reason. We have at length succeeded, and that is
the cause of our being so late. In our return home, this good
lord, to whom I am for ever bound to shew all possible respect,
was attacked by a sudden illness, which made me take the liberty
to knock at your door, flattering myself that you would be
pleased to lodge us this night."
Ebn Thaher's friend took all this for truth, told them they were
welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all
the assistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the
prince, and said, that his distemper was of such a nature as to
require nothing but rest. His friend understood by this that they
desired to go to bed. Upon which he conducted them to an
apartment, where he left them.
Though the prince of Persia slept, he was interrupted by
troublesome dreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at
the caliph's feet, and increased his affliction. Ebn Thaher was
very impatient to be at home, and doubted not but his family was
under great apprehension, because he never used to sleep out. He
arose and departed early in the morning, after he had taken leave
of his friend, who rose at break of day to prayers At last he
reached his house, and the first thing the prince of Persia did,
who had walked so far with much trouble, was to lie down upon a
sofa, as weary as if he had been a long journey. Not being in a
state to go to his own palace, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be
prepared for him, and sent to acquaint his friends with his
condition, and where he was. In the mean time he begged him to
compose himself, to command in his house, and to dispose of all
things as he pleased. "I thank you heartily for your obliging
offers," said the prince; "but that I may not be any ways
troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal with me as if I were
not at your house. I would not stay one moment, if I thought my
presence would incommode you in the least."
As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his
family all that had passed at Schemselnihar's palace, and
concluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger
he had been in. The prince of Persia's principal domestics came
to receive his orders at Ebn Thaher's house, and in a little time
there arrived several of his friends, who had notice of his
indisposition. Those friends passed the greatest part of the day
with him; and though their conversation could not extinguish
those melancholy ideas which were the cause of his trouble, yet
it afforded him some relief. He would have taken his leave of Ebn
Thaher towards the evening; but this faithful friend found him
still so weak, that he obliged him to stay till next day, and in
the mean time, to divert him, gave a concert of vocal and
instrumental music in the evening; but this concert served only
to remind him of the preceding night, and renewed his trouble,
instead of assuaging it; so that next day his distemper seemed to
increase. Upon this Ebn Thaher did not oppose his going home, but
took care to accompany him; and when he was with him alone in his
chamber, he represented to him all those arguments which might
influence him to a generous effort to overcome his passion, which
in the end would neither prove fortunate to himself nor to the
favourite. "Ah! dear Ebn Thaher," exclaimed the prince, "how easy
is it for you to give this advice, but how hard for me to follow
it! I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to profit by
it. I have said already, that I shall carry to the grave the love
I bear to Schemselnihar." When Ebn Thaher saw that he could gain
nothing upon the prince, he took his leave, and would have
retired.
The prince of Persia interrupted him, and said, "Kind Ebn Thaher,
since I have declared to you that it is not in my power to follow
your wise counsels, I beg you would not charge it on me as a
crime, nor forbear to give me the usual testimonies of your
friendship. You cannot do me a greater favour than to inform me
of the destiny of my dear Schemselnihar, when you hear of her.
The uncertainty I am in concerning her fate, and the
apprehensions her fainting have occasioned in me, keep me in this
languishing condition you reproach me with." "My lord," answered
Ebn Thaher, "you have reason to hope that her fainting was not
attended with any bad consequences: her confidant will quickly
come and inform me of the issue; and as soon as I know the
particulars, I will not fail to impart them."
Ebn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home, where
he expected Schemselnihar's confidant all the rest of the day,
but in vain, nor did she come on the following. His uneasiness to
know the state of the prince of Persia's health would not suffer
him to wait any longer without seeing him. He went to his palace
to exhort him to patience, and found him lying on his bed as ill
as ever, surrounded by a great many of his friends, and several
physicians, who used all their art to discover the cause of his
disorder. As soon as he saw Ebn Thaher, he looked at him with a
smile, to signify that he had two things to tell him; the one,
that he was glad to see him; the other how much the physicians,
who could not discover the cause of his illness, were out in
their reasonings.
His friends and physicians retired one after another, so that Ebn
Thaher being alone with him, approached his bed to ask him how he
had been since he had last seen him. "I must tell you," answered
the prince, "that my passion, which continually gathers new
strength, and the uncertainty of the lovely Schemselnihar's fate,
augment my disorder every moment, and cast me into such a state
as afflicts my kindred and friends, and breaks the measures of my
physicians, who do not understand it. You cannot think," he
added, "how much I suffer by seeing so many people about me, who
importune me, and whom I cannot in civility put away. Your
company alone relieves me; but I conjure you not to dissemble
with me: what news do you bring of Schemselnihar? Have you seen
her confidant? What says she to you?" Ebn Thaher answered, that
he had not seen her yet. No sooner had he communicated to the
prince of Persia this sad intelligence, than the tears came into
his eyes; he could not answer one word, his heart was so
oppressed. "Prince," added Ebn Thaher, "suffer me to tell you,
that you are too ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of
God, wipe away your tears: if any of your people should come in,
they would discover you by this, notwithstanding the care you
ought to take to conceal your thoughts." Whatever his judicious
adviser could say, it was not possible for the prince to refrain
from weeping. "Wise Ebn Thaher," said he, when he had recovered
his speech, "I may indeed hinder my tongue from revealing the
secrets of my heart, but I have no power over my tears, upon such
an alarming subject as Schemselnihar's danger. If that adorable
and only objets of my desires be no longer in the world, I shall
not survive her a moment." "Reject so afflicting a thought,"
replied Ebn Thaher; "Schemselnihar is yet alive, you need not
doubt it: if you have heard no news of her, it is because she
could find no opportunity to send to you, and I hope you will
hear from her to-day." To this he added several other consoling
arguments, and then withdrew.
Ebn Thaher had scarcely reached his own house, when
Schemselnihar's confidant arrived with a melancholy countenance,
which he reckoned a bad omen. He asked news of her mistress.
"Tell me yours first," said the confidant, "for I was in great
trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition."
Ebn Thaher told her all that she wished to know, and when he had
done, the slave began thus: "If the prince of Persia has
suffered, and does still suffer for my mistress, she suffers no
less for him. After I departed from you, I returned to the
saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her
swoon, notwithstanding all the assistance they endeavoured to
give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of
real grief. He asked all the women, and me in particular, if we
knew the cause of her disorder; but we kept all secret, and told
him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean time we all
wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any
ways relieve her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she
came to herself. The caliph, who had the patience to wait the
event, was rejoiced at her recovery, and asked Schemselnihar the
cause of her illness. As soon as she heard him speak, she
endeavoured to recover her seat; and after she had kissed his
feet, before he could hinder her, Sir,' said she, I have reason
to complain of heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your
majesty's feet to testify thereby how sensible I am of your
favours.'
"I am persuaded you love me,' replied the caliph, and I command
you to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded
in something to-day, which has occasioned this indisposition;
take care, I entreat you; abstain from it for the future. I am
glad to see you better, and advise you to stay here to-night, and
not return to your chamber, for fear the motion should affect
you.' He then commanded a little wine to be brought to strengthen
her; and taking leave of her, returned to his apartment.
"As soon as the caliph had departed, my mistress gave me a sign
to come near her. She asked me earnestly concerning you: I
assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her
easy on that head. I took care not to speak of the prince of
Persia's fainting, lest she should fall into the same state, from
which we had so much trouble to recover her: but my precautions
were in vain, as you shall hear. Prince,' exclaimed she, I
henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of the
sight of you. If I have understood your heart right, I only
follow your example. You will not cease to weep and mourn until I
see you.' At these words, which she uttered in a manner
expressive of the violence of her passion, she fainted a second
time in my arms.
"My companions and I were a long time recovering her; at last she
came to herself; and then I said to her, Madam, are you resolved
to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you? I entreat
you, in the name of the prince of Persia, who is so deeply
interested in your life, to preserve it.' I am much obliged to
you,' replied she, for your care, your zeal, and your advice;
but alas! they are useless to me: you are not to flatter us with
any hopes, for we can expect no end of our torment but in the
grave'
"One of my companions would have diverted these sad thoughts by
playing on the lute, but she commanded her to be silent, and
ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night
with her. O heavens! what a night it was! she passed it in tears
and groans, and incessantly naming the prince of Persia. She
lamented her lot, that had destined her to the caliph, whom she
could not love, and not for him whom she loved so dearly.
"Next morning, as she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon,
I helped her to her chamber, which she had no sooner reached,
than all the physicians of the palace came to see her, by order
of the caliph, who was not long before he arrived himself. The
medicines which the physicians prescribed to Schemselnihar were
ineffectual, because they were ignorant of the cause of her
malady, which was augmented by the presence of the caliph. She
got a little rest however this night, and as soon as she awoke,
she charged me to come to you, to learn some news of the prince
of Persia." "I have already informed you of his case," said Ebn
Thaher; "so return to your mistress, and assure her, that the
prince of Persia waits for some account of her with an impatience
equal to her own. Above all, exhort her to moderation, and to
overcome her feelings, for fear she should drop before the caliph
some word, which may prove fatal to us all." "As for me," replied
the confidant, "I confess I dread her transports. I have taken
the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will
not take it ill that I tell her this from you."
Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia's
lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and
neglect his own important affairs; he therefore went not till the
evening. The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning.
"Ebn Thaher," said he to him, as soon as he saw him, "you have
doubtless many friends, but they do not know your worth, which
you discover to me by your zeal, your care, and the trouble you
give yourself to oblige me. I am confounded with all that you do
for me with so much affection, and I know not how I shall be able
to express my gratitude." "Prince," answered Ebn Thaher, "do not
speak thus, I entreat you. I am ready, not only to give one of my
eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But
this is not the present business. I come to tell you that
Schemselnihar sent her confidant to ask me about you, and at the
same time to inform me of her condition. You may assure yourself
that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your
passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love
her." Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that
had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him. The prince listened
with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and
compassion, which this conversation could inspire, making, upon
every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting
reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.
Their conversation continued so long that the night was far
advanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay
with him. The next morning, as this trusty friend returned home,
there came a woman to him whom he knew to be Schemselnihar's
confidant, and immediately she spoke to him thus: "My mistress
salutes you, and I am come to entreat you in her name to deliver
this letter to the prince of Persia." The zealous Ebn Thaher took
the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the
confidant slave.
When Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia's house with
Schemselnihar's confidant, he prayed her to stay, and wait for
him a moment in the ante-room. As soon as the prince saw him, he
asked earnestly what news he had to communicate? "The best you
can expect," answered Ebn Thaher: "you are as dearly beloved as
you love; Schemselnihar's confidant is in your anteroom; she has
brought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders
to come in." "Let her enter," cried the prince, with a transport
of joy; and so saying, sat up to receive her.
The prince's attendants retired as soon as they saw Ebn Thaher,
and left him alone with their master. Ebn Thaher opened the door
himself, and brought in the confidant. The prince knew her, and
received her with great politeness. "My lord," said she to him,
"I am sensible of the affliction you have endured since I had the
honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you back;
but I hope the letter I have brought will contribute to your
cure." So saying, she presented him the letter. He took it, and
after he had kissed it several times, opened it, and read as
follows:
Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.
"The person who will deliver to you this letter will give you
more correct information concerning me than I can, for I have not
been myself since I saw you. Deprived of your presence, I
endeavour to deceive myself by conversing with you by these ill-
written lines, with the same pleasure as if I had the happiness
of speaking to you in person.
"It is said that patience is a cure for all evils, but instead of
relieving it heightens my sufferings. Although your picture is
deeply engraver in my heart, my eyes desire to have the original
continually before them; and they will lose all their light, if
they be any considerable time deprived of this felicity. May I
flatter myself that yours have the same impatience to see me?
Yes, I can; their tender glances have sufficiently assured me of
this. How happy, prince, would it be for you, how happy for
Schemselnihar, if our united desires were not thwarted by
invincible obstacles; obstacles which afflict me the more
sensibly as they affect you.
"These thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with
incredible pleasure, repeating them again and again, proceed from
the bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you
have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times,
notwithstanding the cruel torments I endure through your absence.
I would reckon all that opposes our love nothing, were I only
allowed to see you sometimes with freedom; I should then enjoy
your company, and what could I desire more?
"Do not imagine that I say more than I think. Alas! whatever
expressions I use, I feel that I think more than I can tell you.
My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your
return; my afflicted heart, which desires you alone; the sighs
that escape me as often as I think on you, and that is every
moment; my imagination, which represents no other object to me
than my dear prince; the complaints that I make to heaven for the
rigour of my destiny; m a word, my grief, my distress, my
torments, which have allowed me no ease since I was deprived of
your presence, will vouch for what I write.
"Am not I unhappy to be born to dove, without hope of enjoying
the object of my passion? This afflicting thought oppresses me so
that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me: but
this sweet comfort balances my despair, and preserves my life.
Tell me that you love me always. I will keep your letter
carefully, and read it a thousand times a-day: I shall endure my
afflictions with less impatience: I pray heaven may cease to be
angry at us, and grant us an opportunity to say that we love one
another without fear; and that we shall never cease thus to love.
Adieu. I salute Ebn Thaher, to whom we are so much obliged."
The prince of Persia was not satisfied with reading the letter
once; he thought he had perused it with too little attention, and
therefore read it again with more leisure; and while so doing,
sometimes heaved deep sighs, sometimes shed tears, and sometimes
broke out into transports of joy and tenderness as the contents
affected him. In short, he could not keep his eyes off those
characters drawn by so beloved a hand, and was beginning to read
it a third time, when Ebn Thaher observed to him that the
confidant had no time to lose, and that he ought to think of
giving an answer. "Alas!" cried the prince, "how would you have
me reply to so kind a letter! In what terms shall I express
myself in my present disturbed state! My mind is tossed with a
thousand tormenting thoughts, which are lost the moment they are
conceived, to make way for others. So long as my body is
influenced by the impressions of my mind, how shall I be able to
hold the paper, or guide a reed to write."
So saying, he took out of a little desk which was near him,
paper, a cane ready cut, and an inkhorn.
The prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave
Schemselnihar's letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it
open while he wrote, that by casting his eyes upon it he might
the better see what to answer. He began to write; but the tears
that fell from his eyes upon the paper obliged him several times
to stop, that they might fall the more freely. At last he
finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, "Read it, I
pray," said he, "and do me the favour to see if the disorder of
my mind has allowed me to give a favourable answer." Ebn Thaher
took it, and read as follows:
The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselnihar's Letter.