Chapter 41

Ebn Thaher was scarcely at his own house, when Schemselnihar's confident arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a bad omen. He asked concerning her mistress. Tell me yours first, said the confident; for I was in great trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition. Ebn Thaher told her all that she desired to know, and when he had done, the slave began her discourse: If the prince of Persia, said she, has suffered, and does still suffer, for my mistress, she suffers no less for him. After I departed from you, continued she, I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the help they endeavoured to give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of real grief; he asked the women, and me in particular, if we knew the cause of her distemper; but we all kept secret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean time, we wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any ways help her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she recovered. The caliph, who had the patience to wait, was truly glad at her recovery, and asked Schemselmhar the cause of her distemper. As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to resume her seat; and, after she had kissed his feet before he could hinder her, Sir, said she, I have reason to complain of Heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your majesty's feet, to testify thereby how sensible I am of your favours!

I am persuaded you love me, said the caliph to her, and I command you to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded in something today, which has occasioned this indisposition; take heed, I pray you, abstain from it for the future. I am glad to see you better; and I advise you to stay here tonight, and not to return to your chamber, lest the motion disturb you. Upon this he commanded a little wine to be brought her, in order to strengthen her; and then taking his leave, returned to his apartment.

As soon as the caliph was gone, my mistress gave me a sign to come near her. She asked me earnestly concerning you: I assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her easy as to that matter. I took care not to speak of the prince of Persia's fainting, lest it should make her fall into the same condition from which we had so much trouble to recover her; my precautions were all in vain, as you shall hear. Prince, said she, I henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of a sight of you. If I have understood your heart right, I only follow your example. Thou wilt not cease to weep until thou seest me again; it is but just, then, that I weep and mourn till I see you! At these words, which she uttered in such a manner as expressed the violence of her passion, she fainted in my arms a second time.

My comrades and I, said she, were long in recovering her; at last she came to herself; and then I said to her, Madam, are you resolved to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you? I beg of you to be persuaded, in the name of the prince of Persia, for whom it is your interest to live, to save yourself, as you love yourself, as you love the prince, and for our sakes, who are so faithful to you! I am very much obliged to you, replied she, for your care, zeal, and advice; but alas! these are useless to me! You are not to flatter us with hopes; for we can expect no end of our torment but in the grave! One of my companions would have diverted those sad ideas by playing on her lute; but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night with her. O heavens! what a night was it! She passed it in tears and groans, always naming the prince of Persia; lamented her lot, which had destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not to him she loved so dearly.

Next morning, because she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon, I helped her to her chamber, where she no sooner arrived, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her by order of the caliph, who was not long in coming himself. The medicines which the physicians prescribed for Schemselnihar were to no purpose, because they were ignorant of the cause of her distemper, and the presence of the caliph augmented it. She got a little rest, however, this night; and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you to hear concerning the prince of Persia. I have already informed you of his case, said Ebn Thaher; so return to your mistress, and assure her that the prince of Persia waits to hear from her with the like impatience that she does from him; besides, exhort her to moderation, and to overcome herself, lest she drop some words before the caliph, which may prove fatal to us all. As for me, replied the confident, I confess I dread her transport; I have taken the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take it ill that I tell her this from you.

Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia's lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect his own important affairs, and therefore went not till the evening. The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning. Ebn Thaher, said he, you have doubtless many friends; but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me by the zeal, care, and trouble, you give yourself to oblige me in my condition. I am confounded with all that you do for me with so great affection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my gratitude! Prince, answered Ebn Thaher, do not speak so, I entreat you; I am ready not only to give one of my own eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But this is not the present business; I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confident to ask me about you, and at the same time to inform me of her condition. You may assure yourself that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love her. Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him. The prince listened with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and compassion, with which this discourse could inspire him, making, upon every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.

Their conversation continued so long, that the night was far advanced, so that the prince of Persia obliged Ebn Thaher to stay with him. Next morning, as this trusty friend was returning home, there came to him a woman, whom he knew to be Schemselnihar's confident, who eagerly addressed him thus: My mistress salutes you; and I am come to entreat you, in her home, to deliver this letter to the prince of Persia. The zealous Ebn Thaher took the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confident.

When Ebn Thaher entered the prince of Persia's house with Schemselnihar's confident, he prayed her to stay one moment in the drawing room. As soon as the prince of Persia saw him, he earnestly asked what news he had. The best you can expect, answered Ebn Thaher; you are as dearly beloved as you love; Schemselnihar's confident is in your drawing room; she has brought you a letter from her mistress, and waits for your orders to come in. Let her come in! cried the prince, with a transport of joy; and, speaking thus, sat down to receive her.

The prince's attendants retired as soon as they saw Ebn Thaher, and left him alone with their master. Ebn Thaher went and opened the door, and brought in the confident. The prince knew her, and received her very civilly. My lord, said she to him, I am sensible of the afflictions you have endured since I had the honour to conduct you to the boat which waited to bring you back; but I hope this letter I have brought will contribute to your cure. Upon this, she presented him the letter. He took it, and, after kissing it several times, opened it, and read as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to Ali Ebn Becar, Prince of Persia.

The person who carries this letter will give you a better account concerning me than I can do, for I have not been myself since I saw you: deprived of your presence, I sought to divert myself by entertaining you with these ill-written lines, as if I had the good fortune to speak to you.

It is said that patience is a cure for all distempers; but it sours mine instead of sweetening it. Although your picture be deeply engraven in my heart, my eyes desire constantly to see the original; and their sight will vanish if they are much longer deprived of that pleasure. May I flatter myself that yours have the same impatience to see me? Yes I can; their tender glances discovered it to me. How happy, prince, should you and Schemselnihar both be, if our agreeable desires were not crossed by invincible obstacles, which afflict me as sensibly as they do you!

Those thoughts which my fingers write, and which I express with incredible pleasure, and repeat again and again, speak from the bottom of my heart, and from the incurable wound which you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding the cruel torments I endure for your absence. I would reckon all that opposes our love nothing, were I only allowed to see you sometimes with freedom; I would then enjoy you, and what more could I desire?

Do not imagine that I say more than I think. Alas! whatever expressions I am able to use, I am sensible that I think more than I can tell you. My eyes, which are continually watching and weeping for your return; my afflicted heart, which desires nothing but you alone; the sighs that escape me as often as I think on you, that is, every moment; my imagination, which represents no other object than my dear prince; the complaints that I make to Heaven for the rigour of my destiny; in a word, my grief, my trouble, my torments, which give me no ease ever since I lost the sight of you, are witnesses of what I write.

Am not I unhappy to be born to love, without hope of enjoying him whom I love? This doleful thought oppresses me so much, that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me: but this sweet comfort balances my despair, and preserves my life. Tell me that you love me always; I will keep your letter carefully, and read it a thousand times a day; I will endure my afflictions with less impatience. I pray Heaven may cease to be angry at us, and grant us an opportunity to say that we love one another without fear; and that we may never cease to love! Adieu. I salute Ebn Thaher, who has so much obliged us.

The prince of Persia was not satisfied to read the letter once; he thought he had read it with too little attention, and therefore read it again with more leisure; and as he read, sometimes he uttered sighs, sometimes he wept, and sometimes he discovered transports of joy and affection, as one who was touched with what he read. In a word, he could not keep his eyes off those characters drawn by so lovely a hand, and therefore began to read it a third time. Then Ebn Thaher told him that the confident could not stay, and he ought to think of giving an answer. Alas! cried the prince, how would you have me answer so kind a letter? In what terms shall I express the trouble that I am in? My spirit is tossed with a thousand tormenting things, and my thoughts destroy one another the same momunt they are conceived, to make way for more; and so long as my body suffers by the impressions of my mind, how shall I be able to hold paper, or a reed [Footnote The Arabians, Persians, and Turks, when they write, hold the paper ordinarily upon their knees with their left hands, and write with their right, with a little reed or cane cut like our pens; this cane is hollow, and resembles our reeds, but is harder.], to write? Having spoken thus, he took out of a little desk paper, cane, and ink.

The prince of Persia, before he began to write, gave Schemselnihar's letter to Ebn Thaher, and prayed him to hold it open while he wrote, that, by casting his eyes upon it, he might see the better what to answer. He began to write; but the tears that fell from his eyes upon the paper obliged him several times to stop, that they might trickle down the more freely. At last he finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, Read it, I pray, said he, do me the favour to see if the disorder of my mind has allowed me to give a reasonable answer. Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselnihar's Letter.

I was swallowed up with mortal grief before I received your letter, at the sight of which I was transported with unspeakable joy; and the view of the characters written by your lovely hand enlightened my eyes more sensibly than they were darkened when yours were closed on a sudden at the feet of my rival. Those words which your courteous letter contains, are so many rays of light, which have dispelled the darkness with which my soul was obscured; they show me how much you suffer by your love to 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 hinders my dying of grief. I have not had one moment's rest since our cruel separation. Your letter only gave me some ease. I kept a sorrowful silence till the moment I received it, and then it restored me to speech. I was buried in a 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 deserved was so great, that I knew not which way to begin to testify my thankfulness for it. In a word, after having kissed it as a valuable pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune. You would have me to 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 the brisk ardour with which I find it consumes me; and how rigorous soever the grief be which I suffer, I will bear it corageously, in hopes to see you some time or other. Would to Heaven it were today; 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 these last lines without weeping. He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction. The prince shut it, and when he had sealed it, desired the trusty slave to come near, and told her, This is my answer to your dear mistress; 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, went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue in which he found himself unhappily engaged. He considered that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, managed 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, an ordinary lady, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her sweetheart happy; but she is the caliph's favourite, and no man can without danger undertake to displease him. His anger will fall at first upon Schemselnihar; it will cost the prince of Persia his life; and I shall be embarked in his misfortune. In the mean time, I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve; I must then, while I can, deliver myself out of so great a danger.

He was taken up with these thoughts all the day; next morning he went to the prince of Persia, with a design to use his utmost endeavors to oblige him to conquer his passion. He actually represented to him what he had formerly done in vain; that it would be much better to make use of all his courage to overcome his inclinations for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be conquered by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was the more potent. In a word, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your amour, otherwise you run a risk of destroying yourself, with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own. I give you this counsel as a friend, for which you will thank me some time or other.

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

Ebn Thaher, being offended at the obstinacy of the prince of Persia, left him hastily; and, going to his own house, recalled to mind what he thought on the other day, and began to think in earnest what he should do. At the same time a jeweller, one of his intimate friends, came to see him: this jeweller had perceived that Schemselnihar's confident 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. The jeweller began to be suspicious, and finding Ebn Thaher very pensive, judged presently that he was perplexed with some important affair; and fancying that he knew the cause, he asked what Schemselniliar's confident wanted with him. Ebn Thaher, being struck with this question, dissembled, and told him, that it was a mere trifle that brought her so frequently to him. You do not tell me the truth, said the jeweller, and give me ground to think, by your dissimulation, that this trifle is an affair of more importance than at first I thought. 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 confident, than to suffer you to be in a mistake about it. I do not recommend it to you to keep the secret, 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 would it be for me, should this rash intrigue come to be discovered? But what do I say? Should not I and my family be quite destroyed? That is the thing perplexes my mind. But I have just now come to such a resolution as I ought to make: I will go immediately and satisfy my creditors, and recover my debts; when I have secured my estate, I will retire to Balsora, and stay till the tempest I foresee blows over. The friendship I have for Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia makes me very sensible to what danger they are exposed. I pray Heaven to discover it to themselves, and to preserve them; but if their ill destiny will have their amours come 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 draw me into their misfortunes. It would be extreme ingratitude in them to do so, and a sorry reward for the good service I have done them, particularly to the prince of Persia, who may save himself and his mistress from this precipice, if he pleases: he may as easily leave Bagdad as I; absence would 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, said he, is of so great importance, that I cannot understand how Schemselnihar and the prince have been capable of abandoning themselves to such a violent amour. 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 consequences 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; that is the only way to deliver yourself from the fatal events which you have reason to fear. The jeweller then rose, and took his leave of Ebn Thaher.

Before the jeweller retired, Ebn Thaher conjured him, by the friendship betwixt them, to speak nothing of this to any person. Be not afraid, 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, doubted not that he had executed the design he had spoken of; but, to be certain, 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 further, and immediately he thought upon the prince of Persia: Unhappy prince, said he to himself, what grief will you suffer when you hear this news? By what means will you now carry on your correspondence with Schemselnihar? I fear you will die of despair. I have compassion on you; I must make up the loss that you have of a too timid confident.

The business that obliged him to come abroad was of no consequence, so that he neglected it; and though he did not know the prince of Persia, but only by having sold him some jewels, he went strait to his house, 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 chamber of the prince, who was leaning on a sofa, with his head upon a cushion. As soon as the prince saw him, he rose to receive him, said he was welcome, entreated him to sit down, and asked if he could serve him in any thing, or if he came to tell him any matter 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 some news that concerns you. I hope you will pardon my boldness, because of my good intention.

After this introduction, the jeweller entered upon the matter, and pursued it thus: Prince, I shall have the honour to tell you, that it is a long time since the conformity of humour, and several affairs we had together, united Ebn Thaher and myself in strict friendship. I know you are acquainted with him, and that he has been employed in obliging you in all that he could. I am informed of 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 Thater took his leave of him and other neighbours, offering them his service at Balsora, whither he was gone, he said, about an affair of great importance. Not being satisfied with this answer, the concern that I have for whatever belongs to him, determined me to come and ask you if you knew any thing particularly concerning his sudden departure.