Part 52

Assad stood as one thunderstruck at these words, which he never expected. He was so transported with rage, that he had like to have given very fatal demonstrations of his anger; but he contained himself, and withdrew without making any reply, fearing, if he staid, he might say something unworthy the greatness of his soul. Amgiad had not mentioned to him the billet which he received the preceding day, and finding by what his mother had said to him that she was altogether as criminal as queen Haiatalnefous, he went to his brother, to chide him for not communicating the hated secret to him, and to mingle his sorrow with his.

The two queens, rendered desperate by finding in the two princes so much virtue, which should have had an influence on them, renounced all sentiments of nature and mothers, and conspired together to destroy them: they made their women believe the two princes had attempted their virtue: they counterfeited the matter to the life by their tears, cries, and curses; and lay in the same bed, as if the resistance they pretended to have made had reduced them almost to death’s door.

When Camaralzaman returned to the palace from hunting, he was very much surprised to find them in bed together, all in tears, acting despondency so well, that he was touched with compassion. He asked them with earnestness what had happened to them.

At this question the dissembling queens wept and gobbed more bitterly than before; and after he had pressed them again and again to tell him, queen Badoura, at last answered him: Sir, our grief is so well founded, that we ought not to see the light of the sun, nor live a day, after the violence that has been offered us by the unparalleled brutality of the princes your sons. They formed a horrid design, encouraged by your absence, and had the boldness and insolence to attempt our honour. Your majesty will excuse us from saying any more; you may guess the rest by our affliction.

The king sent for the two princes, and had killed them both with his own hand, if old king Armanos, his father-in-law, who was by, had not held his hand. Son, said he, what are you going to do? Will you stain your hands and your palace with your own blood? There are other ways of punishing them, if they are really guilty.

He endeavoured thus to appease him, and desired him to examine whether they did indeed commit the crime of which they were accused.

It was no hard thing for Camaralzaman to be so much master of himself as not to butcher his own children: he ordered them to be put under arrest, and sent for an emir called Giondar, whom he commanded to carry them out of the city, and put them to death, at a great distance, and in what place he pleased, but not to see him again, unless he brought their clothes with him, as a token of his having executed his orders.

Giondar travelled with them all night, and early next morning made them alight, telling them, with tears in his eyes, the commands he had received. Believe me, princes, said he, it is a trying duty imposed on me by your father, to execute this cruel order: would to Heaven I could avoid it! The princes replied, Do your duty; we know well you are not the cause of our deaths, and forgive you with all our hearts.

Then they embraced, and bade each other the last adieu with so much tenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one another’s arms. Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself for the fatal stroke. Begin with me, Giondar, said he, that I may not have the trouble to see my dear brother Amgiad die. Amgiad opposed it; and Giondar could not, without weeping more than before, be witness of this dispute between them; which showed how perfect and sincere their friendship was.

At last they thus determined the contest, desiring Giondar to tie them together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him to give them the fatal stroke at one blow. Do not refuse the comfort of dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth have shared every thing, even their innocence, said the generous princes.

Giondar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to breast; and when he had placed them so as he thought he might strike the blow with more surety, and cut off their heads at once, he asked them if they had any thing to command him before they died.

We have only one thing to desire of you, replied the princes; which is, to assure the king our father, at your return, that we are innocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he is not well informed of the truth of the crime with which we are accused.

Giondar promised to do what they would have him, and drew his sabre: his horse being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the sabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran away with all speed into the country.

He was a very valuable good horse, and so richly harnessed, that the emir could not bear the loss of him. This accident so troubled him, that instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre, and ran after his horse to catch him again.

The horse gallopped on before him, and led him several miles out of his way into a wood. Giondar followed him, and the horse’s neighing roused a lion that was asleep. The lion started up, and instead of running after the horse, made directly towards Giondar, who thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life and avoid the lion. He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him in view, pursuing him among the trees. In this extremity he said to himself, Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to show the innocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and now, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself.

While Giondar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent thirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble resolution to submit to the king their father’s cruel order.

Prince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far off. Ah! brother, said Assad, we have so little time to live, what need have we to quench our thirst? We can bear it a few minutes longer.

Amgiad, taking no notice of his brother’s remonstrance, unbound himself, and unbound the prince his brother whether he would or no. They went to the spring, and having refreshed themselves, heard the roaring of the lion. They also heard Giondar’s dreadful cries in the wood, where he and the horse were. Amgiad took up Giondar’s sabre which lay on the ground, saying to Assad, Come, brother, let us go and help poor Giondar; perhaps we may arrive soon enough to deliver him from the danger in which he now is.

The two princes ran to the wood, and entered it just as the lion was going to fall on Giondar. The beast, seeing prince Amgiad, advancing towards him with a sabre in his hand, left his prey, and came against him with fury. The prince met him intrepidly, and gave him a blow so forcibly and dexterously, that it felled him to the ground.

When Giondar saw that he owed his life to the two princes, he threw himself at their feet, and thanked them, for the great obligation he had to them, in words which sufficiently showed his gratitude. Princes, said he, rising up and kissing their hands, with tears in his eyes, God forbid that ever I should attempt any thing against your lives, after you have so kindly and bravely saved mine. It shall never be said, that the emir Giondar was guilty of such ingratitude.

The service we have done you, answered the princes, ought not to hinder you from executing the orders you have received; let us first catch your horse again, and then return to the place where you left us. They were at no great trouble to take the horse, whose mettle was abated with running. When they had restored him to Giondar, and were near the fountain, they begged of him, and argued with him to do as their father had commanded him; but all to no purpose. I only take liberty to desire you, said Giondar, and I pray you not to deny me, that you will divide my clothes between you, and give me yours, and go to such a distance, that the king your father may never hear of you more.

The princes were forced to comply with his request. Each of them gave him his clothes, and covered themselves with what he could spare them of his. He also gave them all the money he had about him, and took leave of them.

When the emir Giondar parted from the princes, he passed through the wood, where Amgiad had killed the lion, in whose blood he dipped their clothes; which having done, he proceeded on his way to the capital city of the isle of Ebene.

At his arrival there, king Camaralzaman asked if he had done what he ordered him. Giondar replied, See, sir, the proofs of my obedience; giving him, at the same time, the princes’ clothes.

How did they take the punishment I commanded to be executed on them? Giondar answered, With wonderful constancy, sir, and resignation to the decrees of Heaven; which showed how sincerely they made profession of their religion: but particularly with great respect towards your majesty, and an inconceivable submission to the sentence of death. We die innocent, said they; but we do not murmur; we take our death from the hand of Heaven, and forgive our father; for we know very well he has not been rightly informed of the truth.

Camaralzaman, sensibly touched at emir Giondar’s relation, bethought himself of putting his hand in their pockets: he began with prince Amgiad’s, where he found a billet open, which he read. He no sooner knew that queen Haiatalnefous writ it, as well by a lock of her hair which was in it, and by the hand-writing, but he was chilled with horror. He then trembling put his hand into that of Assad; and finding there queen Badoura’s billet, his surprise was so great and sudden, that he fainted.

Never was grief equal to Camaralzaman’s, when he was recovered from his fit. Barbarous father, cried he, what hast thou done? Thou hast murdered thy own children, thy innocent children! Did not their wisdom, their modesty, their obedience, their submission to thy will in all things, their virtue, all plead in their behalf? Blind and insensible father! dost thou deserve to live after the execrable crime thou hast committed? I have brought this abomination on my own head; and Heaven chastises me for not persevering in that aversion to women in which I was born. And oh, ye detestable wives! I will not, no I will not, as ye deserve, wash off the guilt of your sins with your blood; ye are unworthy of my rage; but perdition seize me if ever I see you more!

King Camaralzaman was a man of too much religion to break his vow: he commanded the two queens to be lodged in separate apartments that very day, where they were kept under strong guards, and he never saw them again as long as he lived.

While the king of the isle of Ebene afflicted himself for the loss of the princes his sons, whose death he thought he had been the author of, by his too rashly condemning them, the royal youths wandered through deserts, endeavouring to avoid all places that were inhabited, and to meet any human creature. They lived on herbs and wild fruits and drank only foul rain-water, which they found in the crevices of the rocks. They slept, and watched by turns at night, for fear of wild beasts.

When they had travelled about a month, they came to the foot of a frightful mountain, of black stones, and to all appearance inaccessible. They at last espied a sort of path, but so narrow and difficult, that they durst not venture up it. This obliged them to go along by the foot of the mountain, in hopes to find a more easy way to reach the top of it. They went about it five days, but could see nothing like a path, so they were forced to return to that which they had neglected. They still thought it would be in vain for them to attempt going up by it; they deliberated what they should do, a long time; and at last, encouraging one another, resolved to ascend the hill.

The more they advanced, they thought it was the higher and the more steep, which made them think several times of giving over their enterprise. When the one was weary, the other stopt, and they took breath together; sometimes they were both so tired, that they wanted strength to go farther: then, despairing of being able to reach the top, they thought they must lie down and die of fatigue and weariness. A few minutes after, when they found they recovered strength, they animated each other, and went on.

Notwithstanding all their endeavours, and their courage and perseverance, they could not get to the top that day: night came on, and prince Assad was so tired and spent, that he stopt, and said to prince Amgiad, Brother, I can go no farther: I am just dying. --Let us rest ourselves, replied prince Amgiad, as long as you will, and have a good heart; it is but a little way to the top, and the moon befriends us.

They rested themselves about half an hour, and then Assad made a new effort, and once more ascended what remained of the way to the mountain’s summit, where they both at last arrived, and lay down. Amgiad rose first, and advancing, saw a tree at a little distance: he went to it, and found it was a pomegranate tree with large fruit upon it, and a spring at the foot of it: he ran to his brother Assad to tell him the good news, and conduct him to the tree by the fountain side. They refreshed themselves there by eating each a pomegranate, after which they fell asleep.

When they awoke next morning, Come, brother, said Amgiad to Assad, let us go on: I see the mountain is easier to be travelled over on this side than the other; all our way now is down hill; but Assad was so tired with the last day’s fatigue, that he wanted three days repose to recover himself.

They spent them as they had done many before, in discoursing on their mothers’ inordinate passion, which had reduced them to such a deplorable state: But, said they, since Heaven has so visibly declared itself in our favour, we ought to bear it with patience, and comfort ourselves with hopes that we shall see an end of it.

After having rested three days, the two brothers continued their travels. As the mountain on that side was composed of several stages of extensive fields, they were five days in descending it, before they came into the plain. They then discovered a great city, at which they rejoiced. Brother, said Amgiad to Assad, are not you of my opinion, that you should stay in some place out of the city, where I may find you again, while I go and learn the language, and inform myself what is the name of the city? in what country we are? and when I come back, I will bring provisions with me. It may not be safe for us to go there together.

Brother, replied Assad, your advice is both safe and prudent, and I approve of what you say; but if one of us must part from the other on that account, I will not suffer it to be you; you must allow me to go, for what shall I suffer, if any ill accident should happen to you?

But, brother, answered Amgiad, the same ill accident you fear for me, I have as much reason to be afraid of for you; I entreat you to let me go, and do you stay here with patience. I will never yield to it, said Assad; if any ill happen to me, it will be some comfort to think you are safe. Amgiad was forced to submit, and Assad going towards the city, he stayed under the trees at the foot of the mountain.

Prince Assad took the purse of money which Amgiad had in charge, and went forwards towards the city. He had not gone far in the first street, before he met with a reverend old man with a cane in his hand: he was neatly dressed, and the prince took him for a man of note in the place, who would not put a trick upon him, so he accosted him thus: Pray, my lord, which is the way to the market-place? The old man looked on prince Assad, smiling: Child, said he, it is plain you are a stranger, or you would not have asked that question of me.

Yes, my lord, I am a stranger, replied Assad. The old man answered, You are welcome then; our country will be honoured by the presence of so handsome a young man as you are: tell me what business you have at the market-place.

My lord, replied Assad, it is near two months since my brother and I set out from our own country, which is a great way from hence: we have not ceased travelling, and we arrived here but to-day. My brother, tired with such a long journey, stays at the foot of the mountain, and I am come to buy some provision for him and me.

Son, said the old man, you could not have come in a better time, and I am glad of it, for your and your brother’s sake: I made a feast to-day for some friends of mine, and there is a great deal of victuals left untouched: come along with me; you shall eat as much as you please, and when you have done, I will give you enough to last your brother and you several days: do not spend your money, when there is no occasion for it; travellers are always in want of it. While you are eating, I will give you an account of our city, which nobody can do better than myself, who have borne all the honourable offices in it. It is well for you that you happened to light upon me; for I must tell you, all our citizens cannot so well help and inform you as I can: I can assure you some of them are very wicked. Come along, you shall see the difference between a real honest man, as I am, and such as boast of being so, and are not.

I am infinitely obliged to you, replied Assad, for your good will towards me; I put myself entirely into your hands, and am ready to go with you where you please.

The old man laughed in his sleeve to think he had got the prince in his clutches; and as he walked by the side of him, all the way, lest he should perceive it, talked of various subjects, to preserve the favourable opinion Assad had of him. Among other things, said he, it must be confessed you were very fortunate to meet with me, rather than with any other man. I thank God I met with you: you will know why I say it when you come to my house.

Thither they came ere it was long, and the old man introduced Assad into a hall, where were forty such old fellows as himself, who made a circle round a flaming fire, which they adored. The prince was not more seized with horror at the sight of so many men mistakingly adoring the creature for the Creator, than with fear of finding himself betrayed and in such an abominable place.

While Assad stood motionless with astonishment, the old cheat saluted the forty grey-headed men. Devout adorers of fire, said he to them, this is a happy day for us. Where is Gazban? call him.

He spake these words aloud, and a negro, who waited at the lower end of the hall, presently came up to him. This black was Gazban; who, as soon as he saw the disconsolate Assad, imagined for what he was called. He ran to him immediately, knocked him down, and bound his hands with wonderful activity. When he had done, Carry him down, said the old man, and fail not to order my daughters, Bostama and Cavama, to give him every day a good bastinado, with a loaf morning and night for his subsistence: this is enough to keep him alive till the next ship departs for the blue sea and the fiery mountain. He shall be offered up an agreeable sacrifice to our divinity.

As soon as the old man had given this cruel order to Gazban, than the slave hurried prince Assad out of the hall, through several doors, till they came to a dungeon, down to which led twenty steps; there he left him in chains of prodigious weight and bigness, fastened to his feet. When he had done, he went to give the old man’s daughters notice of it; but their father had before sent for them, and given them their instructions himself. Daughters, said he to them, go down and give the Mussulman I just now brought in the bastinado, as you know how to do it: do not spare him; you cannot better show your zeal for the worship of the fire.

Bostama and Cavama, who were bred up in their hatred to Mussulmen, received this order with joy. They descended into the dungeon that very moment, stripped Assad, and bastinadoed him unmercifully, till the blood issued out of his wounds, and he was almost dead. After this cruel infliction, they put a loaf of bread and a pot of water by him, and retired.

Assad did not come to himself again for a long time; when he did, he broke out into a flood of tears, deploring his misery. His comfort however was, that this misfortune had not happened to his brother Amgiad.

That prince waited for his brother till evening with impatience: when it was two, three, or four of the clock in the morning, and Assad did not return, he was like one in despair. He spent the night in that dismal condition; and as soon as it was day, went to the city, where he was surprised to see but very few Mussulmen. He accosted the first he met, and asked him the name of the place. He was told it was the city of the Magicians; so called, from the great number of magicians, who adored the fire, and that there were but very few Mussulmen. Amgiad then demanded how far it was to the isle of Ebene. He was answered, four months voyage by sea, and a year’s journey by land. The man he talked to left him hastily, having satisfied him as to those two questions, and went about his business.

Amgiad, who had been but six weeks coming from the isle of Ebene with his brother Assad, could not comprehend how they reached this city in so little time, unless it was by enchantment, or that the way across the mountain was much shorter, but not frequented, because of its difficulty.

Going farther in the town, he stopped at a tailor’s shop, whom he knew to be a Mussulman by his dress, as he had known the man he had talked to before. Having saluted him, he sat down, and told the occasion of the trouble he was in.

When prince Amgiad had done talking, the tailor replied, If your brother has fallen into the hands of some magician, depend upon it you will never see him more: he is lost past all recovery; and I advise you to comfort yourself as well as you can, and to beware of falling into the same misfortune. To which end, if you will hearken to me, you shall stay at my house, and I will tell you all the tricks of these magicians, that you may take care of yourself when you go out. Amgiad, afflicted for the loss of his brother, accepted the tailor’s offer, and thanked him a thousand times for his kindness to him.

The Story of Prince Amgiad and a Lady of the City of the Magicians.

Prince Amgiad did not go out of the tailor’s house for a whole month, except his host went with him. At last he ventured to go alone to the bath. As he was returning home through a street where there was nobody, he met a lady coming to him. Seeing a handsome young man, fresh come out of the bath, she lifted up her veil, and asked him, with a smiling air, whither he was going; and ogled him all the while so amorously, that Amgiad could not resist her charms. Madam, said he, I am going to my own house, or yours, as you please.

My lord, replied the lady, with an agreeable smile, ladies of my quality never carry men to their own houses; they always go to the men’s.