with the talisman in its mouth. The prince drew near it, hoping
it would drop it; but as he approached, the bird took wing, and
settled again on the ground further off. Kummir al Zummaun
followed, and the bird took a further flight: the prince being
very dexterous at a mark, thought to kill it with a stone, and
still pursued; the further it flew, the more eager he grew in
pursuing, keeping it always in view. Thus the bird drew him along
from hill to valley, and valley to hill, all the day, every step
leading him out of the way from the plain where he had left his
camp and the princess Badoura: and instead of perching at night
on a bush, where he might probably have taken it, roosted on a
high tree, safe from his pursuit. The prince, vexed to the heart
at having taken so much pains to no purpose, thought of
returning; "But," said he to himself, "which way shall I return?
Shall I go down the hills and valleys which I have passed overt'
Shall I wander in darkness? and will my strength bear me out? How
shall I dare appear before my princess without her talisman?"
Overwhelmed with such thoughts, and tired with the pursuit, sleep
came upon him, and he lay down under a tree, where he passed the
night.
He awoke the next morning before the bird had left the tree, and
as soon as he saw it on the wing, followed it again the whole of
that day, with no better success than he had done the last,
eating nothing but herbs and fruits as he went. He did the same
for ten days together, pursuing the bird, and keeping it in view
from morning to night, lying always under the tree where it
roosted. On the eleventh day, the bird continued flying, and
Kummir al Zummaun pursuing it, came near a great city. When the
bird had reached the walls, it flew over them, and the prince saw
no more of it; so that he despaired of ever recovering the
princess Badoura's talisman.
The prince, whose grief was beyond expression, went into the
city, which was built on the seaside, and had a fine port; he
walked up and down the streets without knowing where he was, or
where to stop. At last he came to the port, in as great
uncertainty as ever what he should do. Walking along the shore,
he perceived the gate of a garden open, and an old gardener at
work in it; the good man looking up, saw he was a stranger and a
Moosulmaun, and asked him to come in, and shut the door after
him.
Kummir al Zummaun entered, and demanded of the gardener why he
was so cautious? "Because," replied the old man, "I see you are a
stranger newly arrived; and this city is inhabited for the most
part by idolaters, who have a mortal aversion to us Moosulmauns,
and treat a few of us that are here with great barbarity. I
suppose you did not know this, and it is a miracle that you have
escaped as you have thus far: these idolaters being very apt to
fall upon strangers, or draw them into a snare. I bless God, who
has brought you into a place of safety."
Kummir al Zummaun thanked the honest gardener for his advice, and
the security he offered him in his house; he would have said
more, but the good man interrupted him, saying, "Let us leave
complimenting; you are weary, and must want to refresh yourself.
Come in, and rest." He conducted him into his little hut; and
after the prince had eaten heartily of what he set before him,
with a cordiality that charmed him, he requested him to relate
how he had come there.
The prince complied; and when he had finished his story, without
concealing any part of it, asked him which was the nearest route
to his father's territories; saying, "It is in vain for me to
think of finding my princess where I left her, after wandering
eleven days from the spot by so extraordinary an adventure. Ah!"
continued he, "how do I know she is alive?" and saying this, he
burst into tears. The gardener replied, "There was no possibility
of his going thither by land, the ways were so difficult, and the
journey so long; besides, there was no accommodation for his
subsistence; or, if there were, he must necessarily pass through
the countries of so many barbarous nations, that he would never
reach his father's. It was a year's journey from the city where
he then was to any country inhabited only by Moosulmauns; that
the quickest passage for him would be to go to the isle of Ebene,
whence he might easily transport himself to the isles of the
children of Khaledan; that a ship sailed from the port every year
to Ebene, and he might take that opportunity of returning to
those islands. "The ship departed," said he, "but a few days ago;
if you had come a little sooner, you might have taken your
passage in it. You must wait till it makes the voyage again, and
if you will stay with me and accept of my house, such as it is,
you shall be as welcome to it as to your own."
The prince was glad he had met with such an asylum, in a place
where he had no acquaintance. He accepted the offer, and lived
with the gardener till the time arrived that the ship was to sail
to the isle of Ebene. He spent the interval in working by day in
the garden, and passing the night in sighs, tears, and
complaints, thinking of his dear princess Badoura. We must leave
him in this place, to return to the princess, whom we left asleep
in her tent.
The princess slept a long time, and when she awoke, wondered that
the prince was not with her; she called her women, and asked if
they knew where he was. They told her they saw him enter the
tent, but did not see him go out. While they were talking to her,
she took up her girdle, found her little purse open, and that the
talisman was gone. She did not doubt but that the prince had
taken it to see what it was, and that he would bring it back with
him. She waited for him impatiently till night, and could not
imagine what made him stay away from her so long.
When it was quite dark, and she could hear no tidings of him, she
fell into violent grief: she cursed the talisman, and him that
made it; and, had not she been restrained by duty, would have
cursed the queen her mother, who had given her such a fatal
present. She was the more troubled, because she could not imagine
how her talisman should have caused the prince's separation from
her; she did not however lose her judgment, and came to a
courageous resolution, not common with persons of her sex.
Only herself and her women knew of the prince's absence; for his
men were reposing or asleep in their tents. The princess, fearing
they would betray her, if they had any knowledge of this
circumstance, moderated her grief, and forbade her women to say
or do any thing that might create the least suspicion. She then
laid aside her own habit, and put on one of Kummir al Zummaun's.
She was so much like him, that the next day, when she came
abroad, the male attendants took her for the prince.
She commanded them to pack up their baggage and begin their
march; and when all things were ready, she ordered one of her
women to go into her litter, she herself mounting on horseback,
and riding by her side.
She travelled several months by land and sea; the princess
continuing the journey under the name of Kummir al Zummaun. They
touched at Ebene in their way to the isles of the children of
Khaledan, and went to the capital of the island, where a king
reigned, whose name was Armanos. The persons who first landed,
giving out that the ship carried prince Kummir al Zummaun, who
was returning from a long voyage, and was forced in by a storm,
the news of his arrival was soon carried to court.
King Armanos, accompanied by his courtiers' went immediately to
wait on the prince, and met the princess just as she was landing,
and going to the palace that had been prepared for her. He
received her as the son of a king, who was his friend, and with
whom he always kept up a good understanding: he conducted her to
the palace, where an apartment was prepared for her and all her
attendants; though she would fain have excused herself. He shewed
her all possible honour, and entertained her three days together
with extraordinary magnificence. At the end of this time king
Armanos understanding that the princess intended proceeding on
her voyage, charmed with the air and qualities of such an
accomplished prince, as he supposed her, took an opportunity when
she was alone, and spoke to her in this manner: "You see, prince,
that I am old, and to my great mortification have not a son to
whom I may leave my crown. Heaven has only blest me with one
daughter, whose beauty cannot be better matched than with a
prince of your rank and accomplishments. Instead of going home,
stay and accept my crown, which I will resign in your favour. It
is time for me to rest, and nothing could be a greater pleasure
to me in my retirement, than to see my people ruled by so worthy
a successor to my throne."
The king's offer to bestow his only daughter in marriage, and
with her his kingdom, on the princess Badoura, put her into
unexpected perplexity. She thought it would not become a princess
of her rank to undeceive the king, and to own that she was not
prince Kummir al Zummaun, whose part she had hitherto acted so
well. She was also afraid to decline the honour he offered her,
lest, being so much bent upon the conclusion of the marriage, his
kindness might turn to aversion, and he might attempt something
even against her life.
These considerations, added to the prospect of obtaining a
kingdom for the prince her husband, in case she found him again,
determined her to accept the proposal of king Armanos, and marry
his daughter. After having stood silent for some minutes, she
with blushes, which the king took for a sign of modesty,
answered, "I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for your good
opinion of me, for the honour you do me, and the great favour you
offer, which I cannot pretend to merit, and dare not refuse."
"But," continued she, "I cannot accept this great alliance on any
other condition, than that your majesty will assist me with your
counsels, and that I do nothing without having first obtained
your approbation."
The marriage treaty being thus concluded, the ceremony was put
off till the next day. In the mean time princess Badoura gave
notice to her officers, who still took her for their prince, of
what she was about to do, that they might not be surprised,
assuring them the princess Badoura consented. She talked also to
her women, and charged them to continue to keep the secret she
had entrusted to them.
The king of the isle of Ebene, rejoicing that he had found a son-
in-law so much to his satisfaction, next morning summoned his
council, and acquainted them with his design of marrying his
daughter to prince Kummir al Zummaun, whom he introduced to them,
and told them he resigned the crown to him, and required them to
acknowledge him for their king, and swear fealty to him. Having
said this, he descended from his throne, and the princess
Badoura, by his order, ascended it. As soon as the council broke
up, the new king was proclaimed through the city, rejoicings were
appointed for several days, and couriers despatched over all the
kingdom, to see the same ceremonies observed with the usual
demonstrations of joy.
At night there were extraordinary feastings at the palace, and
the princess Haiatalnefous was conducted to the princess Badoura,
whom every body took for a man, dressed like a royal bride: the
wedding was solemnized with the utmost splendour: they were left
together, and retired to bed. In the morning, while the princess
Badoura went to receive the compliments of the nobility in the
hall of audience, where they congratulated her on her marriage
and accession to the throne, king Armanos and his queen went to
the apartment of their daughter to inquire after her health.
Instead of answering, she held down her head, and by her looks
they saw plainly enough that she was disappointed.
King Armanos, to comfort the princess Haiatalnefous, bade her not
be troubled. "Prince Kummir al Zummaun," said he, "when he landed
here might think only of going to his father's court. Though we
have engaged him to stay by arguments, with which he ought to be
well satisfied, yet it is probable he grieves at being so
suddenly deprived of the hopes of seeing either his father or any
of his family. You must wait till those first emotions of filial
love are over; he will then conduct himself towards you as a good
husband ought to do."
The princess Badoura, under the name and character of Kummir al
Zummaun, the king of Ebene, spent the whole day in receiving the
compliments of the courtiers and the nobility of the. kingdom who
were in and about the city, and in reviewing the regular troops
of her household; and entered on the administration of affairs
with so much dignity and judgment, that she gained the general
applause of all who were witnesses of her conduct.
It was evening before she returned to queen Haiatalnefous's
apartment, and she perceived by the reception she gave her, that
the bride was not at all pleased with the preceding night. She
endeavoured to dissipate her grief by a long conversation, in
which she employed all the wit she had (and she possessed a good
share), to persuade her she loved her entirely. She then gave her
time to go to bed, and while she was undressing she went to her
devotions; her prayers were so long, that queen Haiatalnefous was
asleep before they were ended. She then left off, and lay down
softly by the new queen, without waking her, and was as much
afflicted at being forced to act a part which did not belong to
her, as in the loss of her dear Kummir al Zummaun, for whom she:
ceased not to sigh. She rose as soon as it was day, before
Haiatalnefous was awake; and, being dressed in her royal robes as
king, went to council.
King Armanos, as he had done the day before, came early to visit
the queen his daughter, whom he found in tears; he wanted nothing
more to be informed of the cause of her trouble. Provoked at the
contempt, as he thought, put upon his daughter, of which he could
not imagine the reason: "Daughter," said he, "have patience for
another night. I raised your husband to the throne, and can pull
him down again, and drive him thence with shame, unless he shews
you proper regard. His treatment of you has provoked me so much,
I cannot tell to what my resentment may transport me; the affront
is as great to me as to you."
It was late again before the princess Badoura came to queen
Haiatalnefous. She talked to her as she had done the night
before, and after the same manner went to her devotions, desiring
the queen to go to bed. But Haiatalnefous would not be so served;
she held her back, and obliged her to sit down. "Tell me, I
beseech you," said she, "what can you dislike in a princess of my
youth and beauty, who not only loves but adores you, and thinks
herself the happiest of women in having so amiable a prince for
her husband. Any body but me would be not merely offended but
shocked by the slight, or rather the unpardonable affront you
have put upon me, and abandon you to your evil destiny. However,
though I did not love you so well as I do, yet out of pure good-
nature and humanity, which makes me pity the misfortunes of
persons for whom I am less concerned, I cannot forbear telling
you, that the king my father is enraged against you for your
behaviour towards me, and to-morrow will make you feel the weight
of his just anger, if you continue to neglect me as you have
hitherto done. Do not therefore drive to despair a princess, who,
notwithstanding all your ill usage, cannot help loving you."
This address embarrassed the princess Badoura inexpressibly. She
did not doubt the truth of what Haiatalnefous had said. King
Armanos's coldness to her the day before had given her but too
much reason to see he was highly dissatisfied with her. The only
way to justify her conduit was, to communicate her sex to the
princess Haiatalnefous. But though she had foreseen she should be
under a necessity of making such a discovery to her, yet her
uncertainty as to the manner in which she would receive it, made
her tremble; but, considering that if Kummir al Zummaun was
alive, he must necessarily touch at the isle of Ebene in his way
to his father's kingdom, she ought to preserve herself for his
sake; and that it was impossible to do this, if she did not let
the princess Haiatalnefous know who and what she was, she
resolved to venture the experiment.
The princess Badoura stood as one who had been struck dumb, and
Haiatalnefous being impatient to hear what she could say, was
about to speak to her again, when she prevented her by these
words: "Lovely and too charming princess! I own I have been in
the wrong, and I condemn myself for it; but I hope you will
pardon me, and keep the secret I am going to reveal to you for my
justification."
She then opened her bosom, and proceeded thus: "See, princess, if
a woman like yourself does not deserve to be forgiven. I believe
you will be so generous, at least when you know my story, and the
afflicting circumstance that forced me to act the part I have
done."
The princess Badoura having discovered her sex to the princess of
the isle of Ebene, she again prayed her to keep the secret, and
to pretend to be satisfied with her as a husband, till the
prince's arrival, which she hoped would be in a little time.
"Princess," replied Haiatalnefous, "your fortune is indeed
strange, that a marriage, so happy as yours, should be shortened
by so unaccountable an accident, after a passion so reciprocal
and full of wonders. Pray heaven you may soon meet with your
husband again, and assure yourself I will keep religiously the
secret committed to me. It will be to me the greatest pleasure in
the world to be the only person in the great kingdom of the isle
of Ebene who knows what and who you are, while you go on
governing the people as happily as you have begun. I only ask of
you at present to be your friend." Then the two princesses
tenderly embraced each other, and after a thousand expressions of
mutual friendship lay down to rest.
The two princesses having decided on a way to make belief that
the marriage had been consummated: queen Haiatalnefous's women
were deceived themselves next morning, and it deceived Armanos,
his queen, and the whole court. From this time the princess
Badoura rose in the king's esteem and affection, governing the
kingdom peaceably and prosperously.
While things passed as already mentioned in the court of the isle
of Ebene, prince Kummir al Zummaun remained in the city of
idolaters with the gardener, who had offered him his house for a
retreat till the ship should sail to convey him away.
One morning early, when the prince was as usual preparing to work
in the garden, the gardener prevented him, saying, "This day is a
great festival among the idolaters, and because they abstain from
all work themselves, to spend the time in their assemblies and
public rejoicings, they will not let the Moosulmauns labour; who,
to gain their favour, generally attend their shows, which are
worth seeing. You will therefore have nothing to do to-day: I
leave you here. As the time approaches, at which it is usual for
the ship to sail for the isle of Ebene, I will call on some of my
friends to know when it will depart, and secure you a passage."
The gardener put on his best apparel, and went out.
When the prince was alone, instead of going out to share in the
public joy of the city, his solitude brought to his mind, with
more than usual violence, the loss of his dear princess. He
walked up and down the garden sighing and lamenting, till the
noise which two birds made on a neighbouring tree led him to lift
up his head, to see what was the matter.
Kummir al Zummaun was surprised to observe that the birds were
fighting furiously: in a very little while, one of them fell down
dead at the foot of the tree; the victorious bird took wing
again, and flew away.
In an instant, two other large birds, that had beheld the battle
at a distance, came from the other side of the garden, and
pitched on the ground, one at the feet, and the other at the head
of the dead bird: they looked at it for some time, shaking their
heads in token of grief; after which they dug a grave with their
talons, and buried it.
When they had filled up the grave with the earth they had turned
up, they flew away, but returned in a few minutes, bringing with
them the bird that had committed the murder, one holding one of
its wings in its beak, and the other one of its legs; the
criminal all the while crying out in a doleful manner, and
struggling to escape. They carried it to the grave of the bird
which it had lately sacrificed to its rage, and there killed it
in just revenge for the murder it had committed. They opened its
belly, tore out the entrails, left the body on the spot unburied,
and flew away.
The prince had remained in astonishment all the time that he
stood beholding this singular spectacle. He now drew near the
tree where this scene had passed, and casting his eyes on the
scattered entrails of the bird that had been last killed, spied
something red hanging out of the stomach. He took it up, and
found it was his beloved princess Badoura's talisman, which had
cost him so much pain and sorrow, and so many sighs, since the
bird had snatched it out of his hand. "Ah, cruel!" said he to
himself; still looking on the bird, "thou took'st delight in
doing mischief, so I have the less reason to complain of that
which thou didst to me: but the greater it was, the more do I
wish well to those that revenged my quarrel, punishing thee for
the murder of one of their own kind."
It is impossible to express the prince's joy: "Dear princess,"
continued he to himself, "this happy minute, which restores to me
a treasure so precious to thee, is, without doubt, a presage of
our meeting again, and perhaps sooner than I think of. Thank
heaven who sent me this good fortune, and gives me hope of the
greatest felicity that my heart can desire."
Saying this, he kissed the talisman, wrapped it up in a riband,
and tied it carefully about his arm. He had been almost every
night a stranger to rest, the recollection of his misfortunes
keeping him awake, but this night he enjoyed calm repose: he rose
somewhat later the next morning than he used to do, and went to
the gardener for orders. The good man bade him root up an old
tree which bore no fruit.
Kummir al Zummaun took an axe and began his work. In cutting off
a branch of the root, he found his axe struck against something
that resisted the blow. He removed the earth, and discovered a
broad plate of brass, under which was a staircase of ten steps.
He went down, and at the bottom saw a cavity about six yards
square with fifty brass urns placed in order, each with a cover
over it. He opened them all, one after another, and found they
were all of them full of gold-dust. He came out of the cave,
rejoicing that he had found such a vast treasure, put the brass
plate on the staircase, and had the tree rooted up by the
gardener's return.
The gardener had ascertained that the ship which was bound for
the isle of Ebene, would sail in a few days, but the exact time
was not yet fixed. His friend promised to let him know the day,
if he called upon him on the morrow; and while the prince was
rooting up the tree, he went to have his answer. He returned with
a joyful countenance, by which the prince guessed he brought him
good news. "Son," said the old man (so he always called him on
account of the difference of years between him and the prince)
"be joyful, and prepare to embark in three days; the ship will
then certainly sail; I have agreed with the captain for your
passage."
"In my present situation," replied Kummir al Zummaun, "you could
not bring me more agreeable intelligence; and in return, I have
also tidings that will be as welcome to you: come along with me,
and you shall see what good fortune heaven has in store for you."
The prince led the gardener to the place where he had rooted up
the tree, made him go down into the cave, shewed him what a
treasure he had discovered, thanking Providence for rewarding his
virtue, and the pains he had been at for so many years. "What do
you mean?" replied the gardener: "do you imagine I will take
these riches as mine? The property is yours: I have no right to
it. For fourscore years, since my father's death, I have done
nothing but dig in this garden, and could not discover this
treasure, which is a sign it was destined for you, since God has
permitted you to find it. It is better suited to a prince like
you than to me; I have one foot in the grave, and am in no want
of any thing. Providence has bestowed it upon you, just when you
are returning to that country, which will one day be your own,
where you will make good use of it."
Kummir al Zummaun would not be surpassed in generosity by the
gardener. They disputed for some time. At last the prince
solemnly protested, that he would have none of it, unless the
gardener would divide it with him. The good man, to please the
prince, consented; so they shared it between them, and each had
twenty-five urns.