Part 42

‘I was plunged in the deepest grief when I received your letter, at the sight of which, I was transported with unspeakable joy; and at sight of the characters written by your lovely hand, my eyes were enlightened by a stronger light than they lost, when yours were closed on a sudden at the feet of my rival. These words contained in your kind letter are so many rays of light, which have dispelled the darkness wherewith my soul was obscured; they show me how much you suffer for love of me, and that you are not ignorant of what I endure for you, and thereby comfort me in my afflictions. On the one hand, they make me shed tears in abundance; and on the other, they inflame my heart with a fire which supports it, and prevents my dying of grief. I have not had one moment’s rest since our cruel separation. Your letter alone gave me some ease. I kept a mournful silence till the moment I received it, and then it restored my speech. I was buried in profound melancholy, but it inspired me with joy, which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance. But my surprise at receiving a favour which I had not yet deserved was so great, that I knew not how to begin to testify my thankfulness for it. In a word, after having kissed it several times as a precious pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune. You would have me signify to you, that I always love you. Ah! though I did not love you so perfectly as I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you have given me of a love so uncommon; yes, I love you my dear soul, and shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet fire you have kindled in my heart. I will never complain of that ardour with which I feel it consumes me: and how rigorous soever the evils be which I suffer, I will bear them with fortitude, in hopes to see you some time or other. Would to heaven it were to-day, and that, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come and assure you, that I die for love of you! My tears hinder me from saying any more. Adieu.’

Ebn Thaher could not read those last lines without weeping. He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction. The prince closed it, and when he had sealed it, he desired the trusty slave to come near, and said to her, This is my answer to your dear mistress’s letter. I conjure you to carry it to her, and to salute her in my name. The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.

After Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her, and went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue into which he found himself unhappily engaged. He considered, that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, conducted themselves with so little discretion, that it could not be long a secret. He drew all the consequences from it, which a man of good sense ought to do. Were Schemselnihar, said he to himself, a lady of common rank, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her lover happy; but she is the caliph’s favourite, and no man can without danger attempt to engage the affections of the object of his choice. His anger would fall in the first instance on Schemselnihar; it will next cost the prince of Persia his life, and I shall be involved in his misfortune. --In the mean time, I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve. I must, while I can, extricate myself out of such a risk.

These thoughts occupied his mind all that day; next morning, he went to the prince of Persia, with a design to make one more effort to oblige him to conquer his passion. He represented to him what he had before represented in vain; that it would be much better for him to call up all his resolution, to overcome his inclination for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be hurried away by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was powerful. In short, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your love; otherwise, you run the risk of destroying yourself with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this advice as a friend, for which you will some time or other thank me.

The prince heard Ebn Thaher with great impatience, but suffered him to speak his mind, and then replied to him thus: Ebn Thaher, said he, do you think I can cease to love Schemselnihar, who loves me so tenderly? She is not afraid to expose her life for me, and would you have me regard mine? No; whatever misfortunes befall me, I will love Schemselnihar to my last breath.

Ebn Thaher, shocked at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left him hastily, and going to his own house, recalled to his mind his former reflections, and began to think seriously what he should do. In the mean time, a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to see him. The jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar’s confidant came oftener to Ebn Thaher than usual, and that he was constantly with the prince of Persia, whose sickness was known to every one, though not the cause of it. This had awakened the jeweller’s suspicions, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, he presently judged that he was perplexed with some important affair, and fancying that he knew the cause, he asked, what Schemselnihar’s confidant wanted with him? Ebn Thaher being struck with this question, would have dissembled, and told him, that it was for a trifle she came so frequently to him. You do not tell me the truth, said the jeweller, and you think to persuade me, by your dissimulation, that this trifle is a more important affair than at first I thought it to be. Ebn Thaher perceiving that his friend pressed him so much, said to him, it is true, that it is an affair of the greatest consequence! I had resolved to keep it secret, but since I know how much you are my friend, I choose rather to make you my confidant, than to suffer you to be under a mistake about it. --I do not recommend to you secrecy, for you will easily judge by what I am going to tell you, how important it is to keep it. After this preamble, he told him the amour between Schemselnihar, and the prince of Persia. You know, continued he, in what esteem I am at court, in the city, and with lords and ladies of the greatest quality; what a disgrace it would be for me, should this rash amour come to be discovered? But what do I say; should not I and my family be completely ruined? That is what perplexes my mind; but I have just formed my resolution: I will go immediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts, and when I have secured my property, will retire to Balsora, and stay till the storm that I foresee is blown over. My friendship for Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to what dangers they are exposed. I pray heaven to convince them of it, and to preserve them; but if their evil destiny should bring their amours to the knowledge of the caliph, I shall, at least, be out of the reach of his resentment; for I do not think them so wicked as to design to involve me in their misfortunes. It would be the height of ingratitude, and a bad reward for the service I have done them, and the good advice I have given them, particularly to the prince of Persia, who may save both himself and his mistress from this precipice, if he pleases: he may as easily leave Bagdad as I; and absence will insensibly disengage him from a passion, which will only increase whilst he continues in this place.

The jeweller was extremely surprised at what Ebn Thaher told him. What you say to me, says he, is of so great importance, that I cannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince could have abandoned themselves to such a violent passion; what inclination soever they may have for one another, instead of yielding to it, they ought to resist it, and make a better use of their reason. Is it possible they can be insensible of the dangerous consequence of their correspondence? How deplorable is their blindness! I perceive all the consequences of it as well as you; but you are wise and prudent, and I approve your resolution; the only way to deliver yourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear. After this conversation, the jeweller rose up, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher.

Before the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him by the friendship betwixt them, to say nothing of this to any body. Fear not, said the jeweller; I will keep this secret on peril of my life.

Two days after, the jeweller went to Ebn Thaher’s shop, and seeing it shut, he doubted not but he had executed the design he spoke of; but, to be more sure, he asked a neighbour, if he knew why it was shut? The neighbour answered that he knew not, unless Ebn Thaher was gone a journey. There was no need of his inquiring farther, and he immediately thought of the prince of Persia: Unhappy prince, said he to himself, what will be your grief when you hear this news? How will you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar? I fear you will die of despair. I pity you, and must make up your loss of a too timid confidant.

The business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence, so that he neglected it: and though he had no knowledge of the prince of Persia, but only by having sold him some jewels, he went to his house; he addressed himself to one of his servants, and prayed him to tell his master, that he desired to speak with him about business of very great importance. The servant returned immediately to the jeweller, and introduced him to the prince’s chamber, who was leaning on a sofa, with his head upon a cushion. As soon as the prince saw him, he rose up to receive and welcome him, and intreated him to sit down; asked if he could serve him in any thing, or if he came to tell him any thing interesting concerning himself. Prince, answered the jeweller, though I have not the honour to be particularly acquainted with you, yet the desire of testifying my zeal has made me take the liberty to come to your house, to impart to you a piece of news that concerns you. I hope you will pardon my boldness for my good intention.

After this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and continued thus: Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it is a long time since the conformity of disposition, and some business we have had together, united Ebn Thaher and me in strict friendship. I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has employed himself in obliging you to his utmost; I have learnt this from himself for he keeps nothing secret from me, nor I from him. I went just now to his shop, and was surprised to find it shut: I addressed myself to one of his neighbours, to ask the reason; he answered me, that two days ago Ebn Thaher took leave of him, and other neighbours, offering them his service at Balsora, whither he is gone, said he, about an affair of great importance. Not being satisfied with this answer, my concern for his welfare determined me to come and ask if you knew any thing particularly concerning this his sudden departure.

At this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject, the better to compass his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked at the jeweller in a manner which convinced him how much he was disconcerted with the news. I am surprised at what you inform me, said he; a greater misfortune could not befal me. Ah! said he, with tears in his eyes, if what you tell me be true, I am undone! Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, in whom I put all my confidence, left me? I cannot think of living after so cruel a blow.

The jeweller needed no more to convince him fully of the prince of Persia’s violent passion, which Ebn Thaher told him of: mere friendship would not make him speak so; nothing but love could produce such lively sensations.

The prince continued some moments absorbed in those melancholy thoughts; at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his servants, Go, said he, to Ebn Thaher’s house, and ask some of his domestics if he be gone to Balsora: run, and come back quickly, and tell me what you hear. While the servant was gone, the jeweller endeavoured to entertain the prince of Persia with indifferent subjects; but the prince gave little heed to him: he was a prey to fatal grief. Sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher was gone, and at other times he did not doubt of it, when he reflected upon the conversation he had with him the last time he saw him, and the abrupt manner in which he left him.

At last the prince’s servant returned, and reported that he had spoken with one of Ebn Thaher’s servants, who assured him that he had been gone two days to Balsora. As I came from Ebn Thaher’s house, added the servant, a slave well dressed met me; and after she had asked me if I had the honour to belong to you, she told me she wanted to speak with you, and begged at the same time that she might come along with me: she is in the outer room, and I believe she has a letter to give you from some person of consequence. The prince commanded her to be immediately introduced, not doubting but it was Schemselnihar’s confidant slave, as indeed it was. The jeweller knew who she was, having seen her several times at Ebn Thaher’s house. She could not have come in a better time to save the prince from despair. She saluted him.

The prince of Persia returned the salute of Schemselnihar’s confidant. The jeweller arose as soon as he saw her appear, and retired, to leave them at liberty to converse together. The confidant, after she had conversed some time with the prince, took her leave and departed. She left him quite another person from what he was before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more gay; which satisfied the jeweller that the good slave came to tell him something favourable to his amour.

The jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to him, smiling, I see, prince, you have business of importance at the caliph’s palace. The prince of Persia, astonished and alarmed at this discourse, answered the jeweller, What leads you to suppose that I have business at the caliph’s palace? --I judge so, replied the jeweller, by the slave that is gone forth. And to whom, think you, belongs this slave? replied the prince. --To Schemselnihar, the caliph’s favourite, answered the jeweller. I know, continued he, both the slave and her mistress, who has several times done me the honour to come to my house and buy jewels. Besides, I know that Schemselnihar keeps nothing secret from this slave; and I have seen her go and come for several days along the streets, as I thought, very much troubled: I imagined that it was for some affair of consequence concerning her mistress.

The jeweller’s words did much trouble the prince of Persia. He would not say so, said he to himself, if he did not suspect, or rather was not acquainted with my secret. He remained silent for some time, not knowing what course to take. At last he began, and said to the jeweller, You have told me things which make me believe that you know yet more than you have acquainted me with; it concerns my repose, that I be perfectly informed; I conjure you, therefore, not to conceal any thing from me.

Then the jeweller, who desired nothing more, gave him a particular account of what had passed betwixt Ebn Thaher and himself: he let him know that he was informed of his correspondence with Schemselnihar, and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher, alarmed at the danger of being his confidant in the matter, had communicated to him his intention of retiring to Balsora, to stay there until the storm which he dreaded should be blown over. This he has executed, added the jeweller; and I am surprised how he could determine himself to abandon you, in the condition he informed me you was in. As for me, prince, I confess I am moved with compassion towards you, and am come to offer you my service; and if you do me the favour to accept of it, I engage myself to be as faithful to you as Ebn Thaher; besides, I promise to be more resolute. I am ready to sacrifice my honour and life for you; and, that you may not doubt of my sincerity, I swear by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep your secret inviolable. Be persuaded then, prince, that you will find in me the friend whom you have lost. This discourse encouraged the prince, and comforted him under Ebn Thaher’s absence. I am very glad, said he to the jeweller, to find in you a reparation of my loss: I want words to express the obligations I am under to you. I pray God to recompense your generosity, and I accept your obliging offer with all my heart. Believe me, continued he, Schemselnihar’s confidant came to speak to me concerning you: she told me that it was you who advised Ebn Thaher to go from Bagdad: these were the last words she spoke to me when she went away, and she seemed persuaded of what she said; but they do not do you justice. I doubt not, after what you have told me, she is deceived. Prince, replied the jeweller, I have had the honour to give you a faithful account of my conversation with Ebn Thaher. It is true, when he told me he meant to retire to Balsora, I did not oppose his design, but said he was a wise and prudent man; but let not this prevent your putting confidence in me. I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal. If you do not make any use of my service, this shall not hinder me from keeping your secret religiously, according to my oath. --I have already told you, replied the prince, that I did not believe what the confidant said: it is her zeal which inspired her with this groundless suspicion, and you ought to excuse it, as I do.

They continued their conversation for some time, and consulted together about the most convenient means to keep up the prince’s correspondence with Schemselnihar. They agreed to begin by undeceiving the confidant, who was so unjustly prepossessed against the jeweller. The prince engaged to remove her mistake the first time he saw her again, and to entreat her to address herself to the jeweller whenever she might bring letters, or any other information, from her mistress to him. In short, they agreed that she ought not to come so frequently to the prince’s house, because thereby she might lead to the discovery of what it was of so great importance to conceal. At last the jeweller arose, and after having again entreated the prince of Persia to place an unreserved confidence in him, he withdrew.

The jeweller returning to his house, perceived before him a letter, which somebody had dropped in the street. He took it up, and as it was not sealed, he opened it, and found it conceived in these terms:

A Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

‘I learn from my confidant a piece of news, which gives me no less concern than it must give you. By losing Ebn Thaher, we have indeed suffered a great loss; but let not this hinder you, dear prince, from thinking to preserve yourself. If our confidant has abandoned us through a panic fear, let us consider that it is a misfortune which we could not avoid. I confess Ebn Thaher has left us at a time when we most needed his assistance; but let us fortify ourselves by patience against the unexpected stroke, and let us not forbear to love one another constantly. Fortify your heart against this misfortune. The object of our wishes is not to be obtained without trouble. Let us not be discouraged, but hope that heaven will favour us: and that, after so many afflictions, we shall see a happy accomplishment of our desires. Adieu.’

While the jeweller was conversing with the prince of Persia, the confidant had time to return to the palace, and communicate to her mistress the ill news of Ebn Thaher’s departure. Schemselnihar immediately wrote this letter, and sent back her confidant with it to the prince of Persia, but she negligently dropped it.

The jeweller was glad to find it, for it furnished him with an opportunity of justifying himself to the confidant, and bringing her to the point he desired. When he had read it, he perceived the slave seeking for it with the greatest anxiety, and looking about every where. He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but the slave observed him, and running to him, --Sir, said she, I have dropped a letter, which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you to restore it. The jeweller, taking no notice that he heard her, continued his way till he came to his house. He did not shut the door after him, that the confidant, who followed him, might come in. She did so; and when she came to his chamber, Sir, said she to him, you can make no use of that letter you have found; and you would not hesitate to return it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is directed. Besides, allow me to tell you, you cannot honestly keep it.

Before the jeweller answered the confidant, he made her sit down, and then he said to her, Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and is it not directed to the prince of Persia? The slave, who expected no such question, blushed. The question embarrasses you, replied he; but I assure you I do not put it rashly. I could have given you the letter in the street, but I wished you to follow me, on purpose that I might come to some explanation with you. Is it just, tell me, to impute an unhappy accident to people who no ways contributed towards it? Yet this you have done, in telling the prince of Persia that it was I who advised Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own safety. I do not intend to lose time in justifying myself to you; it is enough that the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence in this matter: I will only tell you, that instead of contributing to Ebn Thaher’s departure, I have been extremely afflicted at it; not so much from my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the condition he left the prince of Persia in, whose correspondence with Schemselnihar he has discovered to me. As soon as I knew certainly that Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I went and presented myself to the prince, in whose house you found me, to inform him of this news, and to offer him the same service which he did him; and provided you put the same confidence in me that you did in Ebn Thaher, it will be your own fault if you do not make my assistance of use to you. Inform your mistress of what I have told you; and assure her that though I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I should not repent of having sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of one another.

The confidant, after having heard the jeweller with great satisfaction, begged him to pardon the ill opinion she had conceived of him, for the zeal she had for her mistress’s interest. I am beyond measure glad, added she, that Schemselnihar and the prince have found in you a person so fit to supply Ebn Thaher’s place. I will not fail to convince my mistress of the good will you bear her.

After the confidant had testified to the jeweller her joy to see him so well disposed to serve Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, the jeweller took the letter out of his bosom, and restored it to her, saying, Go, carry it quickly to the prince of Persia, and come back this way, that I may see the answer. Forget not to give him an account of our conversation.

The confidant took the letter and carried it to the prince, who answered it immediately. She returned to the jeweller’s house to show him the answer, which was in these words:

The Prince of Persia’s Answer to Schemselnihar.