to speak to her in public, for fear of giving cause to suspect
that he was connected with Schemselnihar. It was known to every
body in Bagdad, that this woman belonged to her, and executed all
her little commissions. He continued the same pace, and at length
reached a mosque, where he knew but few people came. He entered,
and she followed him, and they had a long conversation together,
without any body overhearing them.
Both the jeweller and confidant expressed much joy at seeing each
other, after the strange adventure of the robbers, and their
reciprocal apprehension for each other, without regarding their
own particular persons.
The jeweller wished her to relate to him how she escaped with the
two slaves, and what she knew of Schemselnihar from the time he
lost sight of her; but so great was her eagerness to know what
had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation,
that he found himself obliged to satisfy her. "Having given you
the detail you desired," said he, "oblige me in your turn," which
she did in the following manner.
"When I first saw the robbers, I hastily imagined that they were
soldiers of the caliph's guard, and that the caliph being
informed of Schemselnihar's going out, had sent them to put her,
the prince, and all of us to death. Under this impression I
immediately got up to the terrace of your house, when the thieves
entered the apartment where the prince and Schemselnihar were,
and I was soon after followed by that lady's two slaves. From
terrace to terrace, we came at last to a house of very honest
people, who received us with much civility, and with whom we
lodged that night.
"Next morning, after thanking the master of the house for our
good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar's palace, where we
entered in great disorder and distress, because we could not
learn the fate of the two unfortunate lovers. The other women of
Schemselnihar were astonished to see me return without their
lady. We told them, we had left her at the house of one of her
female friends, and that she would send for us when she wished to
come home; with which excuse they seemed well satisfied.
"For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness, and when night
arrived, opening a small private gate, I espied a little boat on
the canal which seemed driven by the stream. I called to the
waterman, and desired him to row up each side of the river, and
look if he could not see a lady; and if he found her, to bring
her along with him. The two slaves and I waited impatiently for
his return, and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming
down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern.
When the boat was come up, the two men helped the woman to rise,
and then it was I knew her to be Schemselnihar. I cannot express
my joy at seeing her.
"I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat; she
had great need of my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When
she was landed, she whispered me in a tone expressive of her
affliction, and bade me go and take a purse of one thousand
pieces of gold and give it to the two soldiers that had
accompanied her. I left her to the care of the two slaves to
support her, and having ordered the two soldiers to wait for me a
moment, I took the purse, and returned instantly; I gave it to
them, and having paid the waterman, shut the door.
"I then followed my lady, and overtook her before she had reached
her chamber. We immediately undressed her, and put her to bed,
where she had not long been, before she became so ill that for
the whole of the night we almost despaired of her life. The day
following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her;
but I told them she had been greatly fatigued, and wanted rest.
The other two women and I gave her all the assistance in our
power; but we should have given over every hope of her recovery,
had I not at last perceived that the wine which we every now and
then gave her had a sensible effect in recruiting her strength.
By importunity we at length prevailed with her to eat.
"When she recovered the use of her speech, for she had hitherto
only wept, groaned, and sighed, I begged of her to tell me how
she had escaped out of the hands of the robbers. Why would you
require of me,' said she, with a profound sigh, to renew my
grief? Would to God the robbers had taken away my life, rather
than have preserved it; my misfortunes would then have had an
end, whereas I live but to increase my sufferings.'
"Madam,' I replied, I beg you would not refuse me this favour.
You cannot but know that the wretched feel a consolation in
relating their greatest misfortunes; what I ask would alleviate
yours, if you would have the goodness to gratify me.'
"Hear then,' said she, the most afflicting adventure that could
possibly have happened to one so deeply in love as myself, who
considered myself as at the utmost point of my wishes. You must
know, when I first saw the robbers enter, sword in hand, I
considered it as the last moment of our lives. But death was not
an object of regret, since I thought I was to die with the prince
of Persia. However, instead of murdering us, as I expected, two
of the robbers were ordered to take care of us, whilst their
companions were busied in packing up the goods they found in the
house. When they had done, and got their bundles upon their
backs, they went out, and took us with them.
"As we went along, one of those that had charge of us demanded
of me who I was? I answered, I was a dancer. He put the same
question to the prince, who replied, he was a citizen.
"When we had reached the place of our destination, a new alarm
seized us. They gathered about us, and after having considered my
dress, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to
suspect I had disguised my quality. "Dancers," said they, "do not
use to be dressed as you are. Tell us truly who you are?"
"When they saw I made no reply, they asked the prince once more
who he was, for they told him they plainly perceived he was not
the person he pretended to be. He did not satisfy them much more
than I had done; he only told them he came to see the jeweller,
naming him, who was the owner of the house where they found us.
"I know this jeweller," replied one of the rogues, who seemed to
have some authority over the rest: "I owe him some obligations,
which he knows nothing of, and I take upon me to bring him hither
to-morrow morning; but you must not expect," continued he, "to be
released till he arrives and tells us who you are; in the mean
time, I promise you there shall be no injury offered to you."
" The jeweller was brought next morning, who thinking to oblige
us, as he really did, declared to the robbers the whole truth.
They immediately came and asked my pardon, and I believe did the
like to the prince, who was shut up in another room. They
protested to me, they would not have broken open the house where
we were, had they known it was the jeweller's. They soon after
took us (the prince, the jeweller, and myself), carried us to the
river side, put us aboard a boat, and rowed us across the water;
but we were no sooner landed, than a party of horse-patrol came
up to us.
"The robbers fled; I took the commander aside, and told him my
name, and that the night before I had been seized by robbers, who
forced me along with them; but having been told who I was,
released me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account.
He alighted out of respect to me; and expressing great joy at
being able to oblige me, caused two boats to be brought: putting
me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, he
escorted me hither: but what is become of the prince and his
friend I cannot tell.
"I trust,' added she, melting into tears, no harm has befallen
them since our separation; and I do not doubt but the prince's
concern for me is equal to mine for him. The jeweller, to whom we
have been so much obliged, ought to be recompensed for the loss
he has sustained on our account. Fail not, therefore, to take two
purses of a thousand pieces of gold in each, and carry them to
him to-morrow morning in my name, and be sure to inquire after
the prince's welfare.'
"When my good mistress had done speaking, I endeavoured, as to
the last article of inquiring into the prince's welfare, to
persuade her to endeavour to triumph over her passion, after the
danger she had so lately escaped almost by miracle. Make me no
answer,' said she, but do what I require.'
"I was obliged to be silent, and am come hither to obey her
commands. I have been at your house, but not finding you at home,
and uncertain as I was of where you might be found, was about
going to the prince of Persia; but not daring to attempt the
journey, I have left the two purses with a particular friend, and
if you will wait here, I will go and fetch them immediately."
The confidant soon returned to the jeweller in the mosque, where
she had left him, and giving him the two purses, bade him out of
them satisfy his friends. "They are much more than is necessary,"
said he, "but I dare not refuse the present from so good and
generous a lady to her most humble servant; I beseech you to
assure her from me, that I shall preserve an eternal remembrance
of her goodness." He then agreed with the confidant, that she
should find him at the house where she had first seen him,
whenever she had occasion to impart any thing from Schemselnihar,
or to hear any tidings of the prince of Persia: and so they
parted.
The jeweller returned home well pleased, not only that he had got
wherewithal so fully to satisfy his friends, but also to think
that no person in Bagdad could possibly know that the prince and
Schemselnihar had been in his other house when it was robbed. It
is true, he had acquainted the thieves with it, but on their
secrecy he thought he might very well depend. Next morning he
visited the friends who had obliged him, and found no difficulty
in satisfying them. He had money in hand to furnish his other
house, in which he placed servants. Thus he forgot all his past
danger, and the next evening waited on the prince of Persia.
The prince's domestics told the jeweller, that he came very
opportunely, as the prince, since he had parted with him, was
reduced to such a state that his life was in danger. They
introduced him softly into his chamber, and he found him in a
condition that excited his pity. He was lying on his bed, with
his eyes closed; but when the jeweller saluted him, and exhorted
him to take courage, he recollected him, opened his eyes, and
gave him a look that sufficiently declared the greatness of his
affliction, infinitely beyond what he felt after he first saw
Schemselnihar. He grasped him by the hand, to testify his
friendship, and told him, in a feeble voice, that he was
extremely obliged to him for coming so far to visit one so
unhappy and wretched.
"Prince," replied the jeweller, "mention not, I beseech you, any
obligations you owe to me. I wish the good offices I have
endeavoured to do you had had a better effect; but at present,
let us talk only of your health; which, in the state I see you, I
fear you greatly injure by unreasonably abstaining from proper
nourishment."
The prince's servants took this opportunity to tell him, it was
with the greatest difficulty they had prevailed on their master
to take the smallest refreshment, and that for some time he had
taken nothing. This obliged the jeweller to entreat the prince to
let his servants bring him something to eat.
After the prince had, through the persuasion of the jeweller,
eaten more than he had hitherto done, he commanded the servants
to leave him alone with his friend. When the room was clear, he
said, "Besides the misfortune that distracts me, I have been
exceedingly concerned to think what a loss you have sustained on
my account; and it is but just I should make you some recompence.
But before I do this, after begging your pardon a thousand times,
I conjure you to tell me whether you have learnt any tidings of
Schemselnihar, since I had the misfortune to be parted from her."
Here the jeweller, instructed by the confidant, related to him
all that he knew of Schemselnihar's arrival at her palace, her
state of health from that time till she recovered, and how she
had sent her confidant to him to inquire after his welfare.
To all this the prince replied only by sighs and tears. He made
an effort to get up, and calling his servants, went himself to
his wardrobe, and having caused several bundles of rich furniture
and plate to be packed up, he ordered them to be carried to the
jeweller's house.
The jeweller would fain have declined this kind offer; but
although he represented that Schemselnihar had already made him
more than sufficient amends for what he had lost, the prince
would be obeyed. The jeweller was therefore obliged to make all
possible acknowledgments, and protested how much he was
confounded at his highness's liberality. He would then have taken
his leave, but the prince desired him to stay, and they passed
good part of the night in conversation.
Next morning the jeweller waited again on the prince, who made
him sit down by him. "You know," said he, "there is an end
proposed in all things: that which the lover proposes, is to
enjoy the beloved object in spite of all opposition. If once he
loses that hope, he must not think to live. Such is my hard case;
for twice when I have been at the very point of fulfilling my
desires, I have suddenly been torn from her I loved in the most
cruell manner imaginable. It remains for me only to think of
death, and I had sought it, but that our holy religion forbids
suicide; but I need not anticipate it; I need not wait long."
Here he stopped, and vented his passion in groans, sighs, sobs,
and tears, which flowed abundantly.
The jeweller, who knew no better way of diverting him from his
despair than by bringing Schemselnihar into his mind, and giving
him some shadow of hope, told him, he feared the confidant might
be come from her lady, and therefore it would not be proper to
stay any longer from home. "I will let you go," said the prince,
"but conjure you, that if you see her, you recommend to her to
assure Schemselnihar, that if I die, as I expect to do shortly, I
shall love her to the last moment, even in the grave."
The jeweller returned home, and waited in expectation of seeing
the confidant, who came some hours after, but all in tears, and
in great affliction. The jeweller alarmed, asked her what was the
matter? She answered, that Schemselnihar, the prince, herself,
and he, were all ruined. "Hear the sad news," said she, "as it
was told me just upon my entering the palace after I had left you
"Schemselnihar had for some fault chastised one of the slaves you
saw with her when you met in your other house. The slave, enraged
at the ill treatment, ran immediately away, and finding the gate
open, went out; so that we have just reason to believe she has
discovered all to an eunuch of the guard, who gave her
protection.
"But this is not all; the other slave her companion has fled too,
and has taken refuge in the caliph's palace. So that we may well
fear she has borne her part in this discovery: for just as I came
away, the caliph had sent twenty of his eunuchs for
Schemselnihar, who have carried her to the palace. I just found
means to come and tell you this. I know not what has passed, yet
I fear no good; but above all, I recommend to you to keep the
secret inviolate."
The confidant added to what she had related before to the
jeweller, that it was proper he should go immediately and
acquaint the prince with the whole affair, that he might be
prepared for every event, and keep faithful to the common cause.
She went away in haste, without staying for any answer.
What answer could the jeweller have made in the condition he was
in? He stood motionless as if thunderstruck. He found, however,
that there was no time to be lost, and immediately went to give
the prince information. He addressed him with an air, that
sufficiently shewed the bad news he brought. "Prince," said he,
"arm yourself with courage and patience, and prepare to receive
the most terrible shock that ever you had to encounter."
"Tell me in a few words," replied the prince, "what is the
matter, without keeping me in suspense; I am, if necessary,
prepared to die."
Then the jeweller repeated all that he had learnt from the
confidant. "You see," continued he, "your destruction is
inevitable. Rise, save yourself by flight, for the time is
precious. You, of all men, must not expose yourself to the anger
of the caliph, and, less than any, confess in the midst of
torture."
At these words the prince was ready to expire through grief,
affliction, and fear. However, he recovered himself, and asked
the jeweller what resolution he would advise him to take in this
conjuncture, every moment of which ought to be employed. The
jeweller told him, he thought nothing remained, but that he
should immediately take horse, and hasten away towards Anbar,
that he might get thither before day. "Take what servants and
swift horses you think necessary," continued he, "and suffer me
to escape with you."
The prince, seeing nothing more to be done, immediately gave
orders to prepare such an equipage as would be least troublesome;
took money and jewels, and having taken leave of his mother,
departed with the jeweller and such servants as he had chosen.
They travelled all night without stopping, till at length, both
their horses and themselves being spent with so long a journey,
they halted to rest themselves.
They had hardly alighted before they found themselves surrounded
and assaulted by a band of robbers. They defended their lives for
some time courageously; but at length the prince's servants being
all killed, both he and the jeweller were obliged to yield at
discretion. The robbers, however, spared their dives, but after
they had seized the horses and baggage, they took away their
clothes and left them naked.
When the thieves were gone, the prince said to the jeweller,
"What think you of our adventure and condition? Had I not better
have tarried in Bagdad, and awaited my death?" "Prince," replied
the jeweller, "it is the decree of Heaven that we should thus
suffer. It has pleased God to add affliction to affliction. and
we must not murmur, but receive his chastisements with
submission. Let us stay no longer here, but seek for some retreat
where we may perhaps be relieved."
"Let me die," said the prince; "for what signifies it whether I
die here or elsewhere. Perhaps while we are talking,
Schemselnihar is no more, and why should I endeavour to live
after she is dead!" The jeweller, by his entreaty, at length
prevailed on him, and they had not gone far before they came to a
mosque, which was open; they entered it, and passed there the
remainder of the night.
At day-break a man came into the mosque. When he had ended his
prayer, as he turned about to go away, he perceived the prince
and jeweller, who were sitting in a corner. He came up to them,
and after having saluted them with a great deal of civility,
said, "I perceive you are strangers."
The jeweller answered, "You are not deceived. We have been robbed
to-night in coming from Bagdad, as you may see, and have retired
hither for shelter, but we know not to whom to apply." "If you
think fit to accompany me to my house," answered the man, "I will
give you all the assistance in my power."
Upon this obliging offer, the jeweller turned to the prince, and
whispered, "This man, as you perceive, sir, does not know us, and
we have reason to fear that somebody else may come who does. We
cannot, I think, refuse his offer." "Do as you please," said the
prince; "I am willing to be guided by your discretion."
The man observing the prince and jeweller consulting together,
and thinking they made some difficulty to accept his offer, asked
them if they were resolved what to do? The jeweller answered "We
are ready to follow you; all we hesitate about is that we are
ashamed to appear thus naked."
Fortunately the man had it in his power to cover them
sufficiently till they could get to his house. As soon as they
had entered, he brought a very handsome suit for each of them. As
he thought they must be hungry, and might wish to be alone, he
had several dishes brought to them by a slave; but they ate
little, especially the prince who was so dejected and dispirited,
that he gave the jeweller cause to fear he would die. Their host
visited them several times in the course of the day, and in the
evening, as he knew they wanted rest, he left them early. But he
was no sooner in bed, than the jeweller was forced to call him
again to assist at the death of the prince of Persia. He found
him breathe short, and with difficulty, which gave him reason to
fear he had but few minutes to live. Coming near him, the prince
said, "It is all over, and I am glad you are witness of my last
words. I quit life with a great deal of satisfaction; I need not
tell you the reason, for you know it already. All my concern is,
that I cannot die in the arms of my dear mother, who has always
loved me tenderly, and for whom I had a reciprocal affection. Let
her know how much I was concerned at this, and request her in my
name to have my body removed to Bagdad, that she may have an
opportunity to bedew my tomb with her tears, and assist my
departed soul with her prayers." He then took notice of the
master of the house, and thanked him for his kindness in taking
him in; and after desiring him to let his body rest with him till
it should be conveyed to Bagdad, he expired.
The day after the prince's death, the jeweller took the
opportunity of a numerous caravan that was going to Bagdad, and
arrived there in safety. He first went home to change his
clothes, and then hastened to the prince's palace, where every
body was alarmed at not seeing the prince with him. He desired
them to acquaint the prince's mother that he wished to speak with
her, and it was not long before he was introduced to her in a
hall, with several of her women about her. "Madam," said he to
her, with an air that sufficiently denoted the ill news he
brought, "God preserve you, and shower down upon you the choicest
of his blessings. You cannot be ignorant that he alone disposes
of us at his pleasure."
The princess would not permit him to proceed, but exclaimed,
"Alas! you bring me the news of my son's death?" She and her
women at the same time wept and sobbed loudly. At length she
checked her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue
without concealing from her the least circumstance of such a
melancholy separation. He satisfied her, and when he had done,
she farther demanded of him, if her son the prince had not given
him in charge something more particular in his last moments? He
assured her his last words were, that it was to him the most
afflicting circumstance that he must die so far distant from his
dear mother, and that the only thing he wished was, that she
would have his corpse transported to Bagdad. Accordingly early
next morning the princess set out with her women and great part
of her slaves, to bring her son's body to her own palace.
When the jeweller, whom she had detained, had seen her depart, he
returned home very sad and melancholy, at the reflection that so
accomplished and amiable a prince was thus cut off in the flower
of his age.
As he walked towards his house, dejected and musing, he saw a
woman standing before him. He recognized her to be
Schemselnihar's confidant. At the sight of her, his tears began
to flow afresh but he said nothing to her; and going into his own
house, she followed him.
They sat down; when the jeweller beginning the conversation,
asked the confidant, with a deep sigh, if she had heard of the
death of the prince of Persia, and if it was on his account that
she grieved. "Alas!" answered she, "What! is that charming prince
then dead? He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar.
Beauteous souls," continued she, "in whatsoever place ye now are,
ye must be happy that your loves will no more be interrupted.
Your bodies were an obstacle to your wishes; but Heaven has
delivered you from them; ye may now form the closest union."