Chapter 42

At this discourse, which the jeweller accommodated to the subject, that he might come the better to his design, the prince of Persia changed colour, and looked so as made the jeweller sensible that he was afflicted with the news. I am surprised at what you inform me, said he; there could not befal me a greater misfortune. Ah! said he, with tears in his eyes, I am undone if what you tell me be true! Has Ebn Thaher, who was all my comfort, and 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 had told him: mere friendship would not let him speak so; nothing but love could produce such feeling expressions.

The prince continued some moments swallowed up with these melancholy thoughts: at last he lifted up his head, and calling one of his servants, Go, said he, to Ebn Timber's house, and ask any 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, for he was a prey to fatal grief. Sometimes he could not persuade himself that Ebn Thaher was gone; at other times he did not doubt the truth of it, when he reflected upon the discourse he had the last time he saw him, and the angry countenance with which he left him.

At last the prince's servant returned, and reported that he had spoken to one of Ebn Thaher servants, who assured him that he was gone two days before to Balsora. As I came from Ebn Thaher's house, added the servant, a slave well arrayed came to me, and, asking if I had the honour to belong to you, she told me she wanted to speak with you, begging, at the same time, that she might come along with me: she is now in the house, and I believe has a letter to give you from some person of note. The prince commanded him to bring her in immediately: he doubted not but it was Schemselnihar's confident 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 at a better time to hinder the prince from despair.

She saluted him, and the prince of Persia did likewise salute Schemselnihar's confident. The jeweller rose as soon as he saw her appear, and stepped aside, to leave them at liberty to speak together. The confident, after conversing some time with the prince, took leave, and departed. She left him quite another thing than before; his eyes appeared brighter, and his countenance more gay; which made the jeweller know that the good slave came to tell him some news that favoured his amour.

The jeweller having taken his place again near the prince, said to him, smiling, I see, prince, you have important affairs at the caliph's palace. The prince of Persia was astonished and alarmed at this discourse, and answered the jeweller, why do you judge that I have affairs at the caliph's palace? I judge, replied the jeweller, by the slave that is gone forth. To whom, think you, belongs this slave? said the prince. To Schemselnihar, the caliph's favourite, answered the jeweller. I know, continued he, both the slave and her mistress, who have 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, very much troubled, which made me imagine that it was upon 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 know, my secret. He remained silent for some time, not knowing what to answer. At length he said to the jeweller, You have told me those things which make me believe that you know yet more than you have acquainted me with. It will tend much to my quiet if I be perfectly informed; I conjure you, therefore, not to dissemble.

Then the jeweller, who desired no better, gave him a particular account of what had passed between Ebn Thaher and himself; so that he let him know that he was informed of his correspondence with Schemselnihar; and forgot not to tell him that Ebn Thaher was afraid of the danger of being his confident in the matter, which was partly the occasion of his retiring to Balsora, to stay till the storm which he feared should he over. This he has done, added the jeweller; and I am surprised how he could determine 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 constant, I am ready to sacrifice my honour and life for you; and, in fine, that you may not doubt my sincerity, I swear, by all that is sacred in our religion, to keep your secret inviolable! Be persuaded, then, that you will find in me the friend that 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 it, continued he, that Schemselnihar's confident 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 had almost persuaded me of it. But do not resent it; for I doubt not but she is deceived, after what you have told me. 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 would return to Balsora, I did not oppose his design, but said he was a wise and prudent man; and, that this may not hinder you from putting confidence in me, I am ready to serve you with all imaginable zeal; which though you do otherwise, this shall not hinder me from keeping your secret religiously according to my oath. I have already told you, replied the prince, that I would not believe what the confident said; it is her zeal that 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 of convenient means to continue the prince's correspondence with Schemselnihar: they agreed to begin by disabusing the confident, who was so unjustly prepossessed against the jeweller. The prince engaged to undeceive her the first time she returned, and to entreat her to engage herself to the jeweller, that she might bring the letters, or any other information, from her mistress to him. In fine, they agreed that she ought not to come so frequently to the prince's house, because she might thereby give occasion to discover that which was of so great importance to conceal. At last the jeweller rose, and, after having again prayed the prince of Persia to have an entire confidence in him, retired.

The jeweller, returning to his house, perceived before him a letter which somebody had dropped in the street; he took it up; and, not being sealed, he opened it, and found that it contained as follows:

Letter from Schemselnihar to the Prince of Persia.

I am informed by my confident of a piece of news which troubles me no less than it does you: By losing Ebn Thaher, we have indeed lost much; but let this not hinder you, dear prince, thinking to preserve yourself. If our confident has abandoned us through a slavish 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 need him most; but let us fortify ourselves by patience against this unlooked-for accident, and let us not forbear to love one another constantly. Fortify your heart against this misfortune. Nobody can obtain what they desire without trouble. Let us not discourage ourselves, but hope that Heaven will favour us; and that, after so many afflictions, we shall come to a happy accomplishment of our desires. Adieu.

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

The jeweller was glad to find it; for it was a good way to set him right with the confident, and bring him to the point he desired. When he had read it, he perceived the slave, who sought it with a great deal of uneasiness, looking about every where. He closed it again quickly, and put it into his bosom; but the slave took notice of it, and ran to him. Sir, said she, I have dropped a letter which you had just now in your hand; I beseech you be pleased 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 behind him, that the confident, who followed him, might come in. She accordingly did so; and when she came to his chamber, Sir, said she to him, you can make no use of the letter you have found; and you would make no difficulty in returning it to me, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is directed. Besides, let me tell you, you cannot honestly keep it.

Before the jeweller answered the confident, he made her sit down, and said to her, Is not this letter from Schemselnihar, and directed to the prince of Persia? The slave, who expected no such question, blushed. The question puzzles you, replied he, but I assure you I do not propose it rashly: I could have given you the letter in the street, but I suffered you to follow me, on purpose that I might discourse with you. Tell me, is it just 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 counselled 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 for my friendship to him, as out of compassion for the condition in which he left the prince of Persia, whose correspondence with Schemselnihar he has acknowledged to me. As soon as I knew certainly that Ebn Thaher was gone from Bagdad, I 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, you may serve yourself by my assistance. Inform your mistress of what I have told you, and assure her, that if I should die for engaging in so dangerous an intrigue, I will rejoice to have sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of each other.

The confident, after having heard the jeweller with great satisfaction, begged him to pardon her the ill opinion she had conceived of him, out of the zeal she had for her mistress. I am extremely glad, added she, that Schemselnihar and the prince have found you, who are a man fit to supply Ebn Thaher's place, and I shall not fail to signify to my mistress the good-will you bear her. After the confident 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 confident 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 this:

The Prince of Persia's Answer to Schemselniliar.

Your precious letter had a great effect upon me, but not so great as I could wish. You endeavour to comfort me for the loss of Ebn Thaher; but, alas! sensible as I am of this, it is the least of my troubles! You know my malady, and that your presence only can cure me. When will the time come that I shall enjoy it without fear of being ever deprived of it? O how long does it seem to me! But shall we rather flatter ourselves that we may see one another? You command me to preserve myself; I will obey, since I have renounced my own will to follow yours. Adieu.

After the jeweller had read this letter, he gave it again to the confident, who said, when she was going away, I will tell my mistress to put the same confidence in you that she did in Ebn Thaher, and you shall hear of me to-morrow. Accordingly, next day she returned with a pleasant countenance. Your very look, said he to her, informs me that you have brought Schemselnihar to what you wished. That is true, said the confident, sand you shall hear how I effected it. Yesterday, continued she, I found Schemselnihar expecting me with impatience; I gave her the prince of Persia's letter, which she read with tears in her eyes; and when she had done, I observed she had abandoned herself to her usual sorrow. Madam, said I, it is doubtless Ebn Thaher's removal that troubles you; but suffer me to conjure you, in the name of God, not to concern yourself any further about that matter. We have found another who offers to oblige you with as much zeal, and, what is yet more important, with greater courage. Then I mentioned you, continued the slave, and acquainted her with the motive which made you go to the prince of Persia's house. In short, I assured her that you would inviolably keep the secret betwixt her and the prince of Persia, and that you was* resolved to favour their amours with all your might. She seemed to me much relieved by my discourse. Ah! what obligations, said she, are the prince of Persia and I under to that honest man you speak of? I must see him, that I may hear from his own mouth what you tell me, and thank him for such an unheard-of piece of generosity towards persons with whom he is no way obliged to concern himself. A sight of him will please me; and I will not omit any thing to confirm him in those good sentiments. Do not fail to bring him to-morrow. Therefore, pray, sir, go with me lo the palace.

The confident's discourse perplexed the jeweller. Your mistress, replied he, must allow me to say, that she has not thought well of what she requires. Ebn Thaher's access to the caliph gave him admission every where; and the officers, who knew him, suffered him to go and come freely to Schemselnihar's palace; but, as for me, how dare I enter? You see well enough that it is not possible. I entreat you to represent those reasons to Schemselnihar which hinder me giving her that satisfaction, and acquaint her with all the ill consequences that would result from it. If she considers it ever so little, she will find that it would expose me needlessly to very great danger.

The confident endeavoured to encourage the jeweller: Believe me, said he, that Schemselnihar is not so unreasonable as to expose you to the least danger, from whom she expects such considerable services. Consider with yourself that there is not the least appearance of hazard: my mistress and I are too much interested in this affair to involve you in any danger. You may depend upon me, and leave yourself to my conduct. After the affair is over, you will confess to me that your fear was groundless.

The jeweller hearkened to the confident's discourse, and got up to follow her; but, notwithstanding his natural courage, he was seized with such terror that his whole body trembled. In the condition you are in, said she, I perceive it will be better for you to stay at home, and that Schemselnihar take other measures to see you. It is not to be doubted but that, to satisfy her desire, she will come hither herself. The case being so, sir, I would not have you to go, as I am persuaded it will not be long before she comes to you. The confident foresaw this very well; for she no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the jeweller's fear, than she made ready to go to his house.

He received her with all the marks of profound respect. When she sat down, being a little fatigued with walking, she unveiled herself, and discovered to the jeweller such beauty as made him acknowledge that the prince of Persia was excusable in giving his heart to her. Then she saluted the jeweller with a graceful countenance, and said to him, I am informed with what zeal you have engaged in the prince of Persia's concerns and mine; but, without immediately forming a design to express my gratitude, I thank Heaven, which has so soon made up Ebn Thaher's loss.

Schemselnihar said several other obliging things to the jeweller, after which she returned to her palace. The jeweller went immediately to give an account of this visit to the prince of Persia, who said to him, as soon as he saw him, I have expected you impatiently. The trusty slave has brought me a letter from her mistress, but she does not comfort me: whatever the lovely Schemselnihar says, I dare not hope for any thing; my patience is at an end; I know not now what measures to take. Ebn Thaher's departure makes me despair; he was my only support; I lost all by losing him, for I flattered myself with some hopes by reason of his access to Schemselnihar.

After these words, which the prince pronounced with so much eagerness that he gave the jeweller no time to interrupt him, he said to the prince, No man can bear a greater share of your affliction than I do; and if you will have patience to hear me, you will perceive that I am capable of giving you ease. Upon this the prince became silent, and hearkened to him. I see very well, said the jeweller, that the only thing to give you satisfaction is to fall upon a way that you may converse freely with Schemselnihar. This I will procure you, and to-morrow will set about it. You must by no means expose yourself to enter Schemselnihar's palace; you know by experience the danger of that: I know a very fit place for this interview, where you shall be safe. When the jeweller had spoken thus, the prince embraced him with a transport of joy. You revive, said he, by this charming promise, an unhappy lover who was resolved to die; I see that you have fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher: whatever you do will be well done; I leave myself entirely to you.

The prince, after thanking the jeweller for his zeal, returned home, and next morning Schemselnihar's confident came to him. He told her that he had put the prince of Persia in hopes that he should see Schemselnihar speedily. I am come purposely, answered she, to take measures with you for that end. I think, continued she, this house will be convenient enough for their interview. I could receive them very well here, replied he; but I think they will have more liberty in another house of mine, where nobody lives at present; I will quickly furnish it for receiving them. Since the matter is so, replied the confident, there remains nothing for me to do but to make Sehemselnihar consent to it. I will go tell her, and return speedily with an answer.

She was as diligent as her promise; and, returning to the jeweller, told him that her mistress would not fail to keep the appointment in the evening. In the mean time she gave him a purse of money to prepare a collation. He sent her immediately to the house where the lovers were to meet, that she might know whither to bring her mistress; and when she was gone, he went to borrow from his friends vessels of gold and silver, tapestry, rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he furnished the house very magnificently; and, when he had put all things in order, went to the prince of Persia.

You may easily conceive the prince of Persia's joy, when the jeweller told him that he came to conduct him to the house he had prepared to receive him and Schemselnihar. This news obliterated all his former trouble. He put on a magnificent robe, and went without his retinue along with the jeweller, who led him through several by-streets, that nobody might observe him, and at last brought him to the house, where they discoursed together until Schemselnihar came.

They did not stay long for this passionate lover. She came after evening-prayers, with her confident and two other slaves. The excess of joy that seized those two lovers, when they saw one another, it is altogether impossible to express. They sat down together upon the sofa for some time, without being able to speak, they were so much overjoyed; but, when speech returned to them, they soon made up for their silence. They expressed themselves with so much tenderness, as made the jeweller, the confident, and the two other slaves, weep. The jeweller, however, restrained his tears to think upon the collation, which he brought. The lovers ate and drank a little, after which they again sat down on the sofa. Schemselnihar asked the jeweller if he had a lute, or any other instrument. The jeweller, who took care to provide all that might please them, brought her a lute, which she took some time to tune, and then played.

While Schemselnihar was thus charming the prince of Persia, and expressing her passion by words composed extempore, a great noise was heard, and immediately the slave whom the jeweller brought with him appeared in a terrible fright, to tell him that some people were breaking up the gate; that he asked who it was, but, instead of an answer, the blows were redoubled. The jeweller, being alarmed, left Schemselnihar and the prince, to go and inform himself of the truth of this bad news. There was already got into the court a company of men armed with bayonets and scimitars, who had entered privately, and, having broken up the gate, came straight towards him: he stood close to a wall for fear of his life, and saw ten of them pass without being perceived by them; and, finding that he could give no help to the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he satisfied himself with bewailing them, and fled for refuge to a neighbour's house, who was not yet gone to bed. He did not doubt that this unexpected violence was by the caliph's order, who, he thought, had been informed of his favourite's meeting with the prince of Persia. He heard a great noise in his own house, which continued till midnight; and when all was quiet, as he thought, he prayed his neighbour to lend him a scimitar, and, being thus armed, went on till he came to the gate of his own house. He entered the court full of fear, and perceived a man, who asked him who he was? He knew by his voice that it was his own slave. How didst thou do, said he, to avoid being taken by the watch? Sir, answered the slave, I hid myself in a corner of the court, and I went out as soon as I heard the noise. But it was not the watch who broke your house; they were highwaymen, who within these few days robbed another in this neighbourhood: they have doubtless had notice of the rich furniture you brought hither, and had that in their view.