The Arabian Nights Entertainments - Volume 01

Chapter 43

Chapter 434,413 wordsPublic domain

The jeweller thought his slave's conjecture probable: he entered the house, and saw that the highwaymen had taken all the furniture out of the chamber where he received Schemselnihar and her lover; that they had also carried off the vessels of gold and silver, and, in a word, had left nothing. Being in this condition, O Heaven! cried he, I am irrecoverably undone! What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make, when I tell them that highwaymen have broken into my house, and robbed me of all that they generously lent me? I shall never be able to make up their loss. Besides, what is become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia? This business will be so public, that it is impossible but it must reach the caliph's ears. He will get notice of this meeting, and I shall fall a sacrifice to his fury. The slave, who loved him, endeavoured to comfort him thus: As to Schemselnihar, said he, the highwaymen probably would content themselves to strip her; and you have reason to think that she is retired to her palace with her slaves. The prince of Persia is probably in the same condition; so that you have reason to hope that the caliph will never know of this adventure. As for the loss your friends have sustained, that is a misfortune which you could not avoid. They know very well the highwaymen to be so numerous, that they have not only pillaged the house I have already spoken of, but many other houses of the principal noblemen of the court; and they are not ignorant that, notwithstanding the orders given to apprehend them, nobody has yet been able to seize any of them. You will be acquitted by restoring your friends the value of the things that are stolen; and, blessed be God, you have enough left.

Waiting till day, the jeweller ordered the slave to mend the gate of the house, which was broken up, as well as he could: after which he returned to his ordinary house with his slave, making sad reflections on what had befallen him. Ebn Thaher, said he to himself, has been wiser than I; he foresaw the misfortune into which I have blindly thrown myself: would to God I had never meddled in this intrigue, which I fear will cost me my life!

It was scarcely day, when the report of the robbery had spread through the city, and there came to the house a great many of the jeweller's friends and neighbours, to testify their grief for this misfortune, but were curious to know the particulars. He thanked them for their affection, and was so much the better satisfied, that he heard nobody speak of Schemselnihar or the prince of Persia, which made him believe they were at their houses. or in some secure place.

When the jeweller was alone, his servants brought him something to eat, but he could not taste a bit. About noon one of his slaves came to tell him that a man was at the gate, whom he knew not, and desired to speak with him. The jeweller, not willing to receive a stranger into his house, rose up, and went to speak with him. Though you do not know me, said the man, I know you, and am come to discourse with you on an important affair. The jeweller prayed him to step in. No, answered the stranger; if you please, rather take the trouble to go with me to your other house. How know you, replied the jeweller, that I have another house? I know well enough, answered the stranger: follow me, do not fear any thing; I have something to communicate to you which will please you. The jeweller went immediately with him; and after he had considered by the way how the house they were going to was robbed, he said to him that it was not fit to receive him.

When they were before the house, and the stranger saw the gate half broken down, he said to the jeweller, I see you have told me the truth; I will carry you to a place which will be more convenient. He went on when he had spoken thus, and walked all the rest of the day without stopping. The jeweller being weary with walking, vexed to see night approach, and the stranger having walked all day without acquainting him where he was going, began to lose patience. Then they came to a path which led them to the Tigris; and as soon as they came to the river, they crossed in a little boat. The stranger led the jeweller through a long street, where he had never been before, and, after taking him through several streets, stopped at a gate, which he opened. He caused the jeweller to go in, shut the gate, bolted it with a huge iron bolt, and then conducted, him to a chamber, where there were ten other men, all as great strangers to the jeweller as his conductor.

The ten men received the jeweller without any compliments. They bid him sit down; of which he had great need, for he was not only weak with walking so far, but the fear be was in, on finding himself with people whom he thought he had reason to dread, would have disabled him from standing. They waited for their leader to supper, and, as soon as he came, it was served up. They washed their hands, obliging the jeweller to do the like, and to sit at table with them. After supper, the men asked him if he knew to whom he spoke. He answered, No, and that he knew not the place he was in. Tell us your last nights adventure, said they to him, and conceal nothing from us. The jeweller, being astonished at this discourse, answered, Gentlemen, it is probable you know it already. That is true, replied they, the young man and the young lady, who were at your house yesternight, told it us; but we would know it from your own mouth. The jeweller needed no more to be informed that they were the highwaymen who had broken up and plundered his house. Gentlemen, said he, I am much troubled for that young man and the lady; can you tell me any thing of them?

Upon the jeweller's inquiry if they knew any thing of the young man and the young lady, the thieves answered, Be not concerned for them; they are safe enough, and in good health: which saying, they showed him two closets, where they assured him they were separately shut up. They added, We are informed you only know what relates to them; which we no sooner came to understand, than we showed them all imaginable respect, and were so far from doing them any injury, that we treated them with all the kindness we were capable of on your account. You may secure yourself the like favour, proceeded they, in regard to your own person, and put all manner of confidence in us without the least reserve.

The jeweller, being heartened at this, and overjoyed to hear that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar were safe, resolved to engage the thieves yet further in their interest. For this purpose he commended them, flattered them, and gave them a thousand benedictions. Gentlemen, said he, I must confess I have not the honour of knowing you; yet it is no small happiness to me that I am not wholly unknown to you; and I can never be sufficiently grateful for the favours which that knowledge has procured me at your hands. Without mentioning so great an act of humanity as that I lately received from you, I must needs say, I am fully persuaded that no persons in the world can be so proper to be trusted with a secret, and none more fit to undertake a great enterprise, which you can best bring to a good issue by your zeal, courage, and intrepidity. In confidence of these great and good qualities, which are so much your due, I will not scruple to relate to you my whole history, with that of the two persons you found in my house.

After the jeweller had thus secured, as he thought, the thieves to secrecy, he made no scruple to relate to them the whole amour of the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, from the beginning of it to the time he received them into his house.

The thieves were greatly astonished at the surprising particulars they heard, and could not forbear crying out, How! is it possible that the young man should be the illustrious Ali Elm Becar, prince of Persia; and the young lady the fair and celebrated Schemselnihar! The jeweller assured them nothing was more certain, and that they needed not to think it strange that persons of so distinguished a character should not care to be known.

Upon this assurance of their quality, the thieves went immediately, one after the other, and threw themselves at their feet, imploring pardon, and begging them to believe they would never have offered any violence to their persons, had they known who they were; but, seeing they did not, they would by their future conduct do their best endeavours to make some recompence at least for the crime they had thus ignorantly committed. Having made profound reverences, they returned to the jeweller, and told him they were heartily sorry they could not restore all that had been taken from him, some part of it being out of their possession; but as for what remained, if he would content himself with his plate, it should be forthwith put into his hands.

The jeweller was overjoyed at the favour; and after the thieves had delivered the plate, they required the prince, Schemselnihar, and him, to promise upon oath that they would not betray them, and they would carry them to a place whence they might easily go to their respective homes. The prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, replied, that they might rely on their words; but since they desired an oath of them, they solemnly swore not to discover them so long as they were with them. With this the thieves were satisfied, and immediately set out to perform their promise.

By the way, the jeweller, being concerned that he could not see the confident and the two slaves, came up to Schemselnihar and begged her to inform him what was become of them. She answered, she knew nothing of them, and that all she could tell him was, that she was carried away from his house, ferried over a river, and brought to the place from whence they were just now come.

Schemselnihar and the jeweller had no further discourse; they found themselves at the brink of a river, whence the thieves immediately took boat, and carried them to the other side.

Whilst the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, were landing, they heard a noise as of horse-guards that were coming towards them. The thieves no sooner perceived the danger, but they took to their oars, and got over to the other side of the river in an instant.

The commander of the brigade demanded of the prince, Schemselnihar, and the jeweller, who they were, and whence they came so late. This frightened them at first so much that they could not speak; but at length the jeweller found his tongue, and said, Sir, I can assure you, we are very honest people; but those persons who have just landed us, and are got to the other side of the water, are thieves, who, having last night broken open the house that we were in, pillaged it, and afterwards carried us to an obscure inn, where, by some entreaty and good management, we prevailed on them to let us have our liberty; to which end they brought us hither. They have restored us part of the booty they had taken from us. At these words he showed the plate he had recovered.

The commander, not being satisfied with what the jeweller told him, came up to him and the prince of Persia, and, looking steadfastly at them, said, Tell me truly who is this lady? how came you to know her? and whereabouts do you live?

This demand surprised them strangely, and tied their tongues, insomuch that neither of them could answer; till at length Schemselnihar, taking the commander aside, told him frankly who she was; which he no sooner came to know, than he alighted, paid both her and the company great respect, and caused two boats to be got ready for their service.

When the boats were come, he put Schemselnihar into one, and the prince of Persia and the jeweller into the other, with two of his people in each: they had orders to accompany them whithersoever they were bound. Being abroad, the two boats took different routes; but we shall at present speak only of that wherein were the prince and the jeweller.

The prince, to save his guides trouble, bid them land the jeweller with him, and named the place whither he would go. The guides, mistaking his orders, stopped just before the caliph's palace, which put both him and the jeweller into a fright, though he durst discover nothing of the matter; for though they had heard the commander's orders to his men, they could not help imagining they were to be delivered up to the guard, and brought before the caliph next morning.

This, nevertheless, was not the intention of the guides; for, after they had landed them, they, by their master's command, recommended them to an officer of the guard, who next morning assigned them soldiers to conduct them by land to the prince's chateau, which was at some distance from the river.

The prince being come home, what with the fatigue of his journey, and the affliction he conceived at being never likely again to see Schemselnihar, fell into a swoon on his sofa; and while the greater part of his servants was endeavouring to recover him, the other part gathered about the jeweller, and begged of him to tell them what had happened to the prince their lord, whose absence had occasioned inexpressible disquiet.

The jeweller, who would discover nothing to them that was not prudent to be repealed, told them it was not a proper time for such a relation, and that they would do better to go and assist the prince, than require anything of him, especially at that juncture. The prince fortunately came to himself that very moment; when those that but just before required his history with so much earnestness, began now to get at a distance, and pay that respect which was due from them. Although the prince had in some measure recovered himself, yet he continued so weak, that he could not open his mouth. He answered only by signs, and that even to his nearest relations who spoke to him. He remained in the same condition till next morning, when the jeweller came to take leave of him. His answer was only with a wink, holding forth his right hand; but when he saw he was loaded with the bundle of plate the thieves had taken from him, he made a sign to his servants that they should take and carry it along with him to his house.

The jeweller had been expected home with great impatience by his family the day he went forth with the man that came to ask for him, and whom he did not know; but no who was quite given over, and it was no longer doubted that some disaster had befallen him. His wife, children, and servants, were in continual grief, and lamented him night and day; but at length, when they saw him again, their joy was so great, they could hardly contain themselves; yet they were troubled to find that his countenance was greatly altered from what it had been before, insomuch that he was hardly to be known. This was thought to have been occasioned by his great fatigue, and the fears he had undergone, which would not let him sleep. Finding himself something out of order, he continued within doors for two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends to visit him.

The third day, perceiving himself better, he thought he might regain strength by going abroad, and therefore went to the shop of a rich friend of his, with whom he continued long in discourse. As he was rising to go home, he observed a woman make a sign to him, whom he presently knew to be the confident of Schemselnihar. Partly out of fear, and partly through joy, he made what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she followed him, as he very well knew she would, the place in which they saw each other being by no means proper for an interview. As he walked a little faster than usual, she could not overtake him, and therefore every now and then called out to stop. He heard her, it is true; but, after what had happened, he did not think fit to take notice of her in public, for fear of giving cause to believe that he had been with Schemselnihar. In short, it was known to every body in Bagdad that this woman belonged to her, and therefore he thought it prudent to conceal his having any knowledge of her. He continued the same pace, and at last came to a mosque, where he knew but few people resorted; there he entered, and she after him, wherein they had a long converse together, without any body overhearing them.

Both the jeweller and the confident expressed a great deal of joy at seeing each other after the strange adventure occasioned by the thieves, and their reciprocal concern for each other's welfare, without mentioning a word of what related to their own particular persons.

The jeweller would needs have her relate to him how she escaped with the two slaves, and what she knew of Sehemselnihar from the time he had left her; but so great were her importunities to be informed of what had happened to him from the time of their unexpected separation, that he found himself obliged to comply. Having finished what she desired, he told her that he expected she would oblige him in her turn; which she did in the following manner.

When I first saw the thieves, said she, I imagined, rightly considered, that they were of the caliph's guard, who, being informed of the escape of Schemselnihar, had sent them to take away the lives of the prince and us all; but, being convinced of the error of that thought, I immediately got upon the leads of your house, at the same time that the thieves entered the chamber where the prince and Schemselnihar were, and was soon after followed by that lady's two slaves. From lead to lead, we came at last to a house of very honest people, who received us with a great deal of civility, and with whom we lodged that night.

Next morning, after we had returned thanks to the master of the house for our good usage, we returned to Schemselnihar's hotel, which we entered in great disorder, and the more so as we could not learn the fate of the two unfortunate lovers. The other women of Schemselnihar were astonished to see me return without their lady. We told them we had left her at the house of a lady, one of her friends, and that she would send for us when she had a mind to come home; with which excuse they seemed well satisfied.

For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness; and when night came, opening a little back gate, I espied a boat driven along by the stream. Calling to the waterman, I desired him to row up the river, to see if he could not meet a lady, and, if he found her, to bring her along with him. The two slaves and I waited impatiently for his return; and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern. When the boat came up, the two men helped the woman to rise; and then it was that I knew her to be Schemselnihar. I rejoiced so greatly to see her, that I cannot sufficiently express myself.

I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat. She had no small occasion for my assistance, for she could hardly stand. When she was ashore, she whispered me in the ear in an afflicted tone, bidding me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and give to the soldiers who had waited on her. I obeyed, leaving her to be supported by the two slaves; and, having paid the waterman, shut the back door.

I then followed my lady, who was hardly got to her chamber before I overtook her. We undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been before she was ready to give up the ghost; in which condition she continued the remainder of the night. The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been much fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her. The other women and I, nevertheless, gave her all the assistance we possibly could. She persisted in swallowing nothing which we offered; and we must have despaired of her life, had I not persuaded her to take a spoonful or two of wine, which had a sensible effect on her. By mere importunity, we at length prevailed upon her to eat also.

When she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only mourned, groaned, and sighed, I begged her to tell me how she escaped out of the hands of the thieves. Why should you require of me, said she, with a profound sigh, what will but renew my grief? Would to God the thieves had taken away my life, rather than preserved it, as in that case my misfortunes would have had an end; whereas I now live but to increase my torment.

Madam, replied I, I beg you will not refuse me this favour. You cannot but know that unhappy people have a certain consolation in venting their misfortunes; and if you be pleased to relate yours, I doubt not that you will find some relief in so doing.

Why then, said she, lend your ear to a story the most afflicting that can be imagined. You must know, when I first saw the thieves entering with sword in hand, I believed it the last moment of my life: but dying did not then seem so shocking to me, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia. However, instead of murdering, two of the thieves were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods which they found in the house. When they had done, and had got their bundles upon their backs, they went away, carrying us along with them.

As we went along one of those who had the charge of us demanded of me briskly who I was: I answered, I was a dancer. He put the same question to the prince, who replied that he was a shopkeeper.

When they were come to the place whither they were going, I had new fears to alarm me; for they gathered about us, and, after considering well my habit, and the rich jewels I was adorned with, they seemed to think that I had disguised my quality. Dancers, said they, do not use to be dressed as you are; pray tell us truly who you are.

When they saw I answered nothing, they asked the prince once more who he was; for they told him they perceived he was not the person he pretended. He did not satisfy them any more than I had done; but only told them he came to see the jeweller, who was the owner of the house where they found us. I know this jeweller, said one of the rogues, who seemed to have some authority over the rest; I have some obligations to him, of which he yet knows nothing; and I take upon me to bring him hither to-morrow morning from another house he has; but you must not expect to stir till he come and tell us who you are; though, in the mean time, I promise there shall be no manner of injury offered to you.

The jeweller was brought next morning, as he said; who, thinking to oblige us, as he really did, declared to the rogues the whole truth of the matter. The thieves no sooner knew who we were, but they came and asked my pardon; and I believe did the like to the prince, who was shut up in another room. They protested to me, they would not have broken open the jeweller's house, had they known whose it was. They soon after took us, (the prince, the jeweller, and myself), and carried us to the river-side, where, having put us on board the boat, they rowed us across the water; but we were no sooner landed, than a party of the horse-guards came up to us.

The rogues fled. I took the commander aside, and told him my name, informing him withal, that the night before I had be seized by robbers who forced me along with them; but having been told who I was, they had re*aleased me, and the two persons he saw with me, on my account. He alighted and paid his respects to me; and expressing a great deal of joy for being able to oblige me, he caused two boats to be brought, putting me and two of his soldiers, whom you have seen, into one, and the prince, and jeweller, with two more, into the other. My guides have conducted me hither; but what is become of the prince and his friend, I cannot tell.