Part 45

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 that we make a difficulty 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; and they were no sooner got to the house, but he brought forth a very handsome suit for each of them. As he thought they must be hungry, and 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 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 just 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. She will undoubtedly not be a little grieved that she could not close my eyes, and bury me with her own hands. Let her know how much I was concerned at this, and pray her in my name to have my body transported 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 soon after 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 the choicest of his blessings upon you. You cannot be ignorant that he alone disposes of us at his pleasure.

The princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas! you bring me the news of my son’s death. She and her women, at the same time, set up such a hideous cry as brought fresh tears into the jeweller’s eyes. She tormented and grieved herself a long while, before she would suffer him to resume his story. 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 the greatest concern to him, that he must die so far distant from his dear mother; and that the only thing he wished was, that she would be pleased to 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 kept with her, saw she was gone, 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 in mourning, drowned in tears, standing before him: on lifting up his eyes, he presently knew 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.

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar’s death, and had not observed the confidant was in mourning, suffered fresh grief at hearing this news. Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he. She is dead, replied the confidant, weeping afresh; and it is for her I wear these weeds. The circumstances of her death were extraordinary, continued she, and deserve to be known to you; but before I give you an account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of Persia, whom, with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.

The jeweller then gave the confidant that satisfaction she desired; and after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince’s mother, to bring her son’s body to Bagdad, she began and said, You have not forgot that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace; and it is true, as we had all the reason in the world to believe, he had been informed of the amour betwixt her and the prince, by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart. You will imagine, he would be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar, and express great tokens of jealousy and revenge against the prince: but this was by no means the case. He pitied Schemselnihar, and in some measure blamed himself for what had happened, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without being attended by his eunuchs. This is the only conclusion that could be drawn from his extraordinary behaviour towards her, as you will hear.

He received her with an open countenance; and when he observed that the melancholy which oppressed her did not lessen her beauty, (for she appeared thus before him without surprise or fear,) with a goodness worthy himself, he said, Schemselnihar, I cannot bear your appearing before me thus, with an air which gives me infinite pain. You must needs be sensible how much I have always loved you, and be convinced of the sincerity of my passion by the continued demonstrations I have given you of it. I can never change my mind, for I love you more than ever. You have enemies, Schemselnihar, proceeded he, and those enemies have insinuated things against your conduct; but all they have said against you has not made the least impression upon me. Shake off then this melancholy, and prepare to entertain me with some diverting and amusing conversation this night, after your accustomed manner. He said many other obliging things to hen and then desired her to step into a magnificent apartment near her own, and wait for him.

The afflicted Schemselnihar was very sensible of the kindness the caliph had for her; but the more she thought herself obliged to him, the more she was concerned that she was so far removed, perhaps for ever, from her prince, without whom she could not live.

This interview between the caliph and Schemselnihar, continued the confidant, was whilst I was come to speak with you, and I learned the particulars of it from my companions who were present. But I had no sooner left you, proceeded she, than I went to my dear mistress again, and was eye-witness to what happened in the evening. I found her in the apartment I told you of; and as she thought I came from you, she came up to me, and, whispering me in the ear, said, I am much obliged to you for the service you have done me, but feel it will be the last. She said no more; but I was not in a place proper to offer any thing to comfort her.

The caliph was introduced at night with the sound of instruments, which her women played upon, and the collation was immediately served up. He took his mistress by the hand, and made her sit down with him on the sofa. She put such a force upon herself to please him, that she expired a few minutes after. In short, she was hardly set down, but she fell backwards: the caliph believed she had only fainted, and so we all thought; but she never recovered, and in this manner we lost her.

The caliph did her the honour to weep over her, not being able to refrain from tears; and before he left the room, ordered all the musical instruments to be broken, which was immediately executed. I stayed with her corpse all night, and next morning washed and dressed her for her funeral, bathing her with my tears. The caliph had her interred next morning in a magnificent tomb he had erected for her in her lifetime, in a place she had desired to be buried in. Now, since you tell me, said she, the prince of Persia’s body is to be brought to Bagdad, I will use my best endeavours that he shall be interred in the same tomb.

The jeweller was much surprised at this resolution of the confidant, and said, Certainly you do not consider that the caliph will never suffer this. You think the thing impossible, replied she; it is not: you will alter your opinion when I tell you that the caliph has given liberty to all her slaves, with a pension to each for their maintenance, and has committed to me the care and keeping of my mistress’s tomb, and allotted me an annual income for that purpose, and for my maintenance. Besides, the caliph, who was not ignorant of the amour between Schemselnihar and the prince, as I have already told you, without being offended at it, will not be sorry if after her death he be buried with her. To all this the jeweller had not a word to say, yet earnestly entreated the confidant to conduct him to her mistress’s tomb, that he might say his prayers over her. When he came in sight of it, he was not a little surprised to find a vast concourse of people of both sexes, that were come thither from all parts of Bagdad. As he could not come near the tomb, he said his prayers at a distance; and then going to the confidant, who was waiting hard by, he said to her, Now I am so far from thinking that what you properly proposed cannot be put in execution, that you and I need only publish abroad what we know of the amour of this unfortunate couple, and how the prince died much about the same time with his mistress. Before his corpse arrives, all Bagdad will concur to desire that two such faithful lovers should not be separated when dead, whom nothing could divide in affection whilst they lived. As he said, so it came to pass; for as soon as it came to be known that the corpse was within a day’s journey of the city, an infinite number of people went out to meet it above twenty miles off, and afterwards walked before it till it came to the city gate; where the confidant, waiting for that purpose, presented herself before the prince’s mother, and begged of her, in the name of the whole city, who earnestly desired it, that she would be pleased to consent that the bodies of the two lovers, who had but one heart whilst they lived, from the time their mutual passion commenced, might be buried in the same tomb now they were dead. The princess immediately consented; and the corpse of the prince, instead of being deposited in his own burying-place, was laid by Schemselnihar’s side, after it had been carried along in procession at the head of an infinite number of people of all ranks. From that time all the inhabitants of Bagdad, and even strangers from all parts of the world where the Mahometan religion prevails, cease not to hold in the highest veneration that tomb, and pay their devotion at it.

The Story of the Amours of Carmaralzaman, Prince of the Isles of the Children of Khaledan, and of Badoura, Princess of China.

About twenty days’ sail on the coast of Persia, there are islands in the main ocean called the Islands of the Children of Khaledan. These islands are divided into four great provinces, which have all of them very flourishing and populous cities, forming together a powerful kingdom. It was formerly governed by a king named Schahzaman, [83] who had four lawful wives, all daughters of kings, and sixty concubines.

Schahzaman thought himself the most happy monarch of the world, on account of his peaceful and prosperous reign. One thing only disturbed his happiness; which was, that he was advanced in years, and had no children, though he had so many wives. He knew not to what to attribute this barrenness; and what increased his affliction was, that he was likely to leave his kingdom without a successor. He dissembled his discontent a long while; and this dissimulation only heightened his uneasiness. At length he broke silence; and one day, after he had complained bitterly of his misfortunes to his grand vizier, he asked him if he knew any remedy for it.

That wise minister replied, If what your majesty requires of me had depended on the ordinary rules of human wisdom, you had soon had an answer to your satisfaction; but my experience and knowledge fall far short of your question. The Divine Power alone, who, in the midst of our prosperities, which often tempt us to forget him, is pleased to mortify us in some instance, that we may address our thoughts to him, acknowledge his omnipotence, and ask of him what we can expect from him alone. Your majesty has subjects, proceeded he, who make a profession of honouring and serving God, and suffering great hardships for his sake; to them I would advise you to have recourse, and engage them, by alms, to join their prayers with yours: it may be, some one among them may be so pure and pleasing to God as to obtain a hearing from your prayers.

King Schahzaman approved this advice, and thanked his vizier for it. He immediately caused rich alms to be given to every community of these holy men in his dominions; and having sent for the superiors, and treated them with a frugal feast, declared to them his intention, and desired them to acquaint their devout men with it.

The king obtained of heaven what he requested; for in nine months’ time he had a son by one of his wives. To express his gratitude to heaven, he sent new alms to the communities of devout Mussulmen, and the prince’s birth-day was celebrated not only in his capital, but throughout his dominions for a whole week. The prince was brought to him as soon as born, and he found him so beautiful, that he gave him the name of Camaralzaman, or Moon of the Age.

He was brought up with all imaginable care; and when he came to a proper age, his father appointed him an experienced governor, and able preceptors. These persons, distinguished by their capacity, found in him a ready wit, capable of receiving all the instructions that were proper to be given him, as well in relation to morals as other knowledge which a prince ought to possess. As he grew up, he learned all his exercises, and acquitted himself with such grace and wonderful address, as charmed all that saw him, and particularly the sultan his father.

Having attained the age of fifteen years, the sultan, who loved him so tenderly, and gave him every day new marks of his affection, had thoughts of giving him a still greater, by resigning his throne to him, and acquainted his grand vizier with his intentions. I fear, said he, lest my son should lose in the inactivity of youth those advantages which nature and my education have given him: therefore, since I am advanced in age, and ought to think of retirement, I have thoughts of resigning the government to him, and passing the remainder of my days in the satisfaction of seeing him reign. I have undergone the fatigue of a crown a long while, and think it now proper for me to retire.

The grand vizier declined offering all the reasons he could have alleged to dissuade the sultan from such a proceeding; on the contrary, he agreed with him in opinion. Sir, replied he, the prince is yet but young, and it would not be, in my humble opinion, advisable to burthen him with the weight of a crown so soon. Your majesty fears, with great reason, his youth may be corrupted in indolence; but to remedy that, do not you think it would be proper to marry him? Marriage forms attachment, and prevents dissipation. Your majesty might then admit him of your council, where he would learn by degrees the art of reigning, and so be qualified to receive your authority, whenever, by your own experience, you shall think him qualified.

Schahzaman found this advice of his prime minister’s highly reasonable, therefore summoned the prince to appear before him at the same time that he dismissed the grand vizier.

The prince, who had been accustomed to see his father only at certain times, without being sent for, was a little startled at this summons; when, therefore, he came before him, he saluted him with great respect, and stood with his eyes fixed on the ground.

The sultan perceiving his constraint, said to him in a mild way, Do you know, son, for what reason I have sent for you? The prince modestly replied, God alone knows the heart; I shall hear it from your majesty with pleasure. I sent for you, said the sultan, to inform you I have an intention of providing a proper marriage for you; what do you think of it?

Prince Camaralzaman heard this with great uneasiness; it so surprised him, that he paused and knew not what answer to make. After a few moments’ silence, he replied, Sir, I beseech you to pardon me, if I seem surprised at the declaration you have made to me. I did not expect such proposals to one so young as I am; and I know not whether I could ever prevail on myself to marry, on account of the trouble incident to a married life, and the many treacheries of women, which I have read of. I may not be always of the same mind; yet I perceive it requires time to determine on what your majesty requires of me.

Prince Camaralzaman’s answer extremely afflicted his father. He was not a little grieved to see what an aversion he had to marriage; yet would not charge him with disobedience, nor exert his paternal authority. He contented himself with telling him he would not force his inclinations, but give him time to consider of the proposal, and reflect, that a prince like him, destined to govern a great kingdom, ought to take some care to leave a successor; and that, in giving himself that satisfaction, he communicated it to his father, who would be glad to see himself revive in his son and his issue.

Schahzaman said no more to the prince: he admitted him into his council, and gave him every reason to be satisfied. At the end of the year, he took him aside, and said to him, My son, have you thoroughly considered of what I proposed to you about marrying last year? Will you still refuse me that pleasure I expect from your obedience, and suffer me to die without giving me that satisfaction?

The prince seemed less disconcerted than before, and was not long answering his father to this effect: Sir, I have not neglected to consider of your proposal; but after the maturest reflection, find myself more confirmed in my resolution to continue as I am without engaging in marriage. In short, the infinite mischief I have read in histories caused in the world by women, and the continual mischiefs I still hear done by them, are powerful motives for me to have nothing to do with them: so that I hope your majesty will pardon me if I presume to tell you it will be in vain to solicit me any farther about marriage. He stopt here, and went out, without staying to hear what the sultan would answer.

Any monarch but Schahzaman would have been very angry at such freedom in a son, and would have made him repent it; but he loved him, and preferred gentle methods before he proceeded to compulsion. He communicated this new cause of discontent to his prime minister. I have followed your advice, said he, but Camaralzaman is farther than ever from complying with my desires. He delivered his resolution in such free terms, that it required all my reason and moderation to keep my temper. Fathers, who so earnestly desire children as I did this son, are fools who seek to deprive themselves of that rest which it is in their own power to enjoy without control. Tell me, I beseech you, how I shall reclaim a disposition so rebellious to my will.

Sir, answered the grand vizier, patience brings many things about that before seemed impracticable; but it may be this affair is of a nature not likely to succeed that way. Your majesty will have no cause to reproach yourself for precipitation, if you would give the prince another year to consider of the matter. If in this interval, he return to his duty, you will have the greater satisfaction, as you will have employed only paternal love to induce him; and if he still continue averse to your proposal when this is expired, your majesty may propose it to him in full council, that it is highly necessary for the good of the state that he should marry; and it is not likely he will refuse to comply with you before so grave an assembly, which you honour with your presence.

The sultan, who so passionately desired to see his son married, thought this long delay an age; however, though with much difficulty, he yielded to his grand vizier’s reasons, which he could not disapprove.

After the grand vizier was gone, sultan Schahzaman went to the apartment of the mother of prince Camaralzaman, to whom he had often expressed his desire to see the prince married. When he had told her, with grief, how his son had refused to comply with his wishes a second time, and the indulgence, which by the advice of his grand vizier, he was inclined to show him, he said, Madam, I know he has more confidence in, and will hearken more to you than me; therefore, I desire you would take an opportunity to talk to him seriously about it, and convince him, that if he persists in his obstinacy, he will oblige me to have recourse to extremities, which I should be sorry for, and which may give him cause to repent having disobeyed me.

Fatima, for so was the lady called, acquainted the prince the first time she saw him, that she had been informed of his second refusal to marry, and how much chagrin he had occasioned his father on that account. Madam, said the prince, I beseech you not to renew my grief upon that head. I fear, in my present uneasiness, something may escape me, which may not altogether correspond with the respect I owe you. Fatima knew by this answer that this was not a proper time to speak to him, and therefore deferred what she had to say to another opportunity.