Part 15

The prince of Persia continued extremely weak: Ebn Thaher said all he could to console him, and exhort him to take courage. “Remember,” said he, “that when we disembark, we shall still have a long way to go before we arrive at my house; for to conduct you to yours, which is so much farther, at this hour, and in the state you now are, would, I think, be very imprudent. We might also run a risk of meeting the watch-guard.” They at length got out of the boat, but the prince was so feeble, that he could not walk, which very much increased Ebn Thaher’s embarrassment. He recollected, that he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and he, with great difficulty, dragged the prince thither. His friend received them very cordially, and when he had made them sit down, he asked them from whence they came at that late hour. Ebn Thaher replied, “I learned this evening that a man, who owes me a considerable sum of money, intended to set out on a very long journey; I lost no time, but went in search of him, and in my way I met this young lord, whom you see, and to whom I am under a thousand obligations; as he knows my debtor, he did me the favor to accompany me. We had some difficulty to accomplish our purpose, and bring our gentleman to a right understanding of the business. However, at last we succeeded, and this is the reason of our having staid so late with him. As we were returning, at a few steps from hence, this young lord, for whom I have the utmost regard, felt himself suddenly seized with illness, which induced me to take the liberty of knocking at your door. I flattered myself, that you would have the goodness to do us the favor of giving us a lodging for this night.”

The friend of Ebn Thaher easily swallowed this fable, told them they were welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he did not know, every assistance in his power. But Ebn Thaher, taking upon himself to answer for the prince, said, that his illness was of a nature only to require repose. His friend, also, understood by this speech, that they both wanted rest. He, therefore, conducted them to an apartment, where he left them at liberty to lie down.

The prince of Persia no sooner dropt asleep, than his repose was so disturbed by the most distressing dreams, representing Schemselnihar fainting at the feet of the caliph, that his affliction did not at all subside. Ebn Thaher, who was excessively impatient to get to his own house, not doubting that his family were in the utmost distress, because he made it a rule never to sleep from home, got up and departed very early, after taking leave of his friend, who had risen by day-break to go to early prayers. They at length arrived at Ebn Thaher’s house, when the prince of Persia, who had exerted himself very much to walk so far, threw himself upon a sofa; feeling as much fatigued as if he had been a long journey. As he was not in a state to go home, Ebn Thaher ordered an apartment to be prepared for him: and that none of his people might be uneasy about him, he sent to inform them where he was. In the mean time, he begged the prince to endeavor to make his mind easy; and order every thing about him as he pleased. “I accept, with pleasure,” replied the prince of Persia, “the obliging offers you make; but that I may not be any embarrassment to you, I entreat you to do every thing as if I were not with you. I cannot think of staying here a moment if my presence is to be any restraint upon you.”

As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he informed his family of every thing that had passed in the palace of Schemselnihar, and finished this recital, by returning thanks to God for having delivered him from the danger he had escaped. The principal domestics belonging to the prince of Persia came to receive their orders from him at Ebn Thaher’s, and soon after several of his friends arrived, who had become acquainted with his indisposition. His friends passed the greatest part of the day with him; and, although their conversation could not entirely banish the sorrowful reflections which occasioned his illness, yet at least it was thus far of advantage, that it gave him some relaxation.

Towards the close of the day he wished to take his leave of Ebn Thaher, but this faithful friend found him still so weak, that he made him remain till the following day. In the mean time, to dissipate his gloom, he gave him, in the evening, a concert of vocal and instrumental music; but this only served to recall to the prince’s memory the one he had enjoyed the preceding night, and only increased his grief instead of assuaging it, so that the next day his indisposition seemed to be augmented. Finding this to be the case, Ebn Thaher no longer opposed the prince’s wish of returning to his own house. He undertook the care of having him conveyed there, and also accompanied him; when he found himself alone with him in his apartment, he represented to him, in strong terms, the necessity of making one great effort to overcome a passion which could not terminate happily either for him or the Favorite. “Ah! dear Ebn Thaher,” cried the prince, “it is easy for you to give this advice: but how difficult is the task for me to follow it! I see, and confess the importance of it, without being able to profit from it. I have already said it; the love I have for Schemselnihar will accompany me to the grave.” When Ebn Thaher perceived that he could make no impression on the mind of the prince, he took his leave, with the intention of retiring, but the prince prevented him. “Obliging Ebn Thaher,” said he to him, “if I have declared to you, that it is not in my power to follow your prudent counsel, I entreat you not to be angry with me, and desist, on that account, from giving me proofs of your friendship. You could not give me a stronger one than to inform me of the fate of my beloved Schemselnihar, if you should hear any tidings of her. The uncertainty I am under respecting her situation, and the dreadful apprehensions I feel on account of her fainting, make me continue in the languid state you so much reproach me for.”--“My lord,” replied Ebn Thaher, “you may surely hope that her fainting has not been productive of any bad consequences, and that her confidential slave will shortly come to acquaint me how the affair terminated. As soon as I know the detail, I will not fail to come and communicate it to you.”

Ebn Thaher left the prince with this hope, and returned home, where he expected all the rest of the day to see the confidant of Schemselnihar arrive, but in vain. She did not make her appearance even on the morrow. The uneasiness he felt to learn the state of the prince’s health, did not allow him to remain any longer without seeing him; and he went to him with the design of exhorting him to have patience. He found him on the bed, and quite as ill as ever; he was also surrounded by his friend, and several physicians, who were exerting all their professional skill to endeavor to discover the cause of his disease. As soon as he perceived Ebn Thaher, he cast a smiling look on him, which denoted two things; one, that he was rejoiced to see him; the other, how deceived his physicians were in their conjectures on his disease, the cause of which they could not guess.

The physicians and the friends retired, one after the other, so that Ebn Thaher remained alone with the patient. He approached his bed, to inquire how he had been since he last saw him. “I must own to you,” replied the prince of Persia, “that my love, which every day acquires increased strength, and the uncertainty of the destiny of the lovely Schemselnihar, heighten my disease every moment; and reduce me to a state which afflicts my relations and friends, and baffles the skill of the physicians, who cannot understand it. You little imagine,” added he, “how much I suffer at seeing so many people, who constantly importune me, and whom I cannot dismiss without incivility. You are the only one whose company affords me any comfort; but do not disguise any thing from me, I conjure you. What news do you bring of Schemselnihar? Have you seen her confidant? What did she say to you?” Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not seen her: and he had no sooner communicated this sorrowful intelligence to the prince, than the tears came in his eyes; he could make no reply, for his heart was full. “Prince,” then resumed Ebn Thaher, “allow me to say, that you are too ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of God, dry your tears; some of your people might come in at this moment, and you are well aware how cautious you ought to be to conceal your sentiments, which might be discovered by that means.” Whatever this judicious counsellor might urge, was ineffectual to stop the prince’s tears, which he could not restrain. “Wise Ebn Thaher,” cried he, when he had regained the power of speech, “I can prevent my tongue from revealing the secret of my heart, but I have no power over my tears, while I have so much reason to fear for Schemselnihar. If this adorable and only object of my desires were no longer in this world, I should not survive her one moment.”--“Do not harbour so afflicting a thought,” replied Ebn Thaher, “Schemselnihar still lives; you must not doubt it. If she has not sent you any account of herself, it is probably because she has not been able to find an opportunity, and I hope this day will not pass without your hearing of her.” He added many other consoling speeches, and then he took his leave.

Ebn Thaher was scarcely returned to his house, when the confidant of Schemselnihar arrived. She had a sorrowful air, from which he conceived an unfavorable presage. He inquired after her mistress. “First,” said she, “give me some intelligence of yourselves, for I was in great anxiety on your account, seeing you depart with the prince of Persia in such a state as he appeared to be.” Ebn Thaher related to her all she wished to know; and when he had concluded his narrative, the slave began hers: “If the prince of Persia,” said she, “suffers on my mistress’s account, she does not endure less pain for him. After I had quitted you,” continued she, “I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar, who had not yet recovered from her fainting fit, notwithstanding all the remedies that had been applied. The caliph was seated next to her, showing every symptom of real grief. He inquired of all the women, and of me in particular, if we had any knowledge of the cause of her indisposition; but we all kept the secret, and we replied quite contrary to what we knew to be the fact. We were, however, all in tears to see her suffer so long, and we omitted nothing that we thought might relieve her. It was full midnight when she came to herself. The caliph, who had had the patience to wait for this moment, showed great joy, and asked Schemselnihar what could have occasioned this illness. As soon as she heard his voice, she made an effort to sit up; and having kissed his feet, before he had time to prevent her, “Sire,” said she, “I ought to complain of Heaven for not suffering me to expire at the feet of your majesty, to convince you by that, how sincerely I am penetrated by the sense of all your goodness to me.”

“I am well persuaded that you love me,” replied the caliph, “but I command you to take care of yourself for my sake; you have probably made some exertion to-day, which has been the cause of this indisposition; you must be more careful, and I beg you to avoid a repetition of any thing that may be injurious. I am happy to see you in a better state, and I advise you to pass the night here, instead of returning to your apartment, lest the motion should be hurtful to you.” He then ordered some wine to be brought, of which he made her take a small quantity, to give her strength, after which he took his leave of her, and retired to his chamber.

“As soon as the caliph was gone, my mistress made signs to me to draw near. She anxiously inquired after you. I assured her, that you had long since quitted the palace, and I set her mind at ease on that subject. I took care not to mention the fainting of the prince of Persia, for fear she should relapse into the same state, from which we had with so much difficulty recovered her. But my precaution was useless, as you will shortly hear. ‘O, prince,’ cried she, ‘then, from this time I renounce all pleasures, so long as my eyes shall be deprived of the gratification of beholding you; if I understand your heart, I only follow your example. You will not cease your tears, until you have rejoined me; and it is but just, that I should weep and lament, until you are restored to my prayers.’ On concluding these words, which she pronounced in a manner that denoted the violence of her love, she fainted a second time in my arms.

“My companions and I were a long while in restoring her to her senses again; at length, life returned; I then said to her, ‘Are you resolved, madam, to suffer yourself to die, and to make us die with you? I conjure you, in the name of the prince of Persia, for whom you are so interested, to endeavour to preserve your life. Pray be persuaded, and make those efforts, which you owe to yourself, to your love for the prince, and to our attachment to you.’--‘I am much obliged to you,’ returned she, ‘for your care, your attention, and your advice. But, alas! how can they be serviceable to me? We are not permitted to flatter ourselves with any hope; and it is only in the bosom of the grave, that we may expect a period to our torments.’

“One of my companions wished to give a turn to these melancholy ideas, by singing a little air to her lute; but she desired her to be silent, and ordered her with the rest to quit the room. She detained only me, to spend the night with her. Heavens! what a night it was; she passed it in tears and lamentations, and calling continually on the name of the prince of Persia, she complained of the cruelty of her fate, which had destined her for the caliph, whom she could not love; and not to be united to the prince of Persia, of whom she was so passionately enamoured.

“The next day, as it was not convenient for her to remain in the saloon, I assisted to remove her into her own apartment, where she was no sooner arrived, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her, by order of the caliph; and it was not long before he himself made his appearance. The remedies prescribed by the physicians for Schemselnihar, had no effect; for they were ignorant of the cause of her illness; and the restraint she felt in the presence of the caliph, only increased the disease. She has, however, enjoyed a little rest this night, and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come in search of you, to obtain some intelligence of the prince of Persia.”--“I have already informed you of the state he is in,” replied Ebn Thaher, “so return to your mistress, and assure her that the prince of Persia expected to hear from her with as much impatience as she could feel on his account. Exhort her, above all, to moderate and conquer her feelings, lest some word should escape her lips before the caliph, which might prove the destruction of us all.”--“As for me,” resumed the slave, “I am in constant apprehension, from the little command she has over herself; I took the liberty of telling her what I thought on that subject, and I am persuaded she will not take it amiss if I speak to her on your part also.”

Ebn Thaher, who had but just left the prince of Persia, did not judge it proper to return again so soon, and neglect some important business, which he found would engage him at home; he did not go till the close of day. The prince was alone, and was not better than in the morning. “Ebn Thaher,” said he, when he saw him enter the room, “you have, no doubt, many friends; but these friends do not know your worth, which I am better acquainted with, by witnessing the zeal, the care, and the pains you take, when an opportunity offers of obliging them. I am quite confused at all you do for me, and it is done with so much friendship and affection, that I shall never be able to acquit myself towards you.”

“Prince,” replied Ebn Thaher, “let us drop that subject, I beg; I am not only ready to lose one of my eyes to preserve one of yours, but even to sacrifice my life for you; but this is not the business I am come upon; I come to tell you, that Schemselnihar sent her confidential slave to me, to inquire how you are, and at the same time to give you some information respecting her. You may imagine, that I did not say any thing but what must confirm her belief of the excess of your love for her mistress, and of the constancy with which you adore her.” Ebn Thaher then gave him an exact detail of every thing the slave had told him. The prince heard it with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, tenderness, and compassion, which such a relation was likely to inspire; and made on each circumstance such reflections, either of an afflicting or consoling nature, as so passionate a lover could be capable of.

The conversation lasted so long, that the night being far advanced, the prince of Persia made Ebn Thaher remain at his house. The next morning, as this faithful friend was returning home, he saw a woman coming towards him, whom he soon recognised to be the confidential slave of Schemselnihar: when she came up to him, “My mistress,” said she, “salutes you, and I come from her to beg you to deliver this letter to the prince of Persia.” The friendly Ebn Thaher took the letter, and returned to the prince, accompanied by the confidant.

When they had got there, he begged her to remain a few minutes in the anti-chamber, and wait for him. As soon as the prince saw him, he anxiously inquired what news he had to announce. “The best you can possibly wish,” replied Ebn Thaher, “you are beloved as tenderly as you love. The confidant of Schemselnihar is in your anti-chamber; she brings you a letter from your mistress, and only waits your orders to present herself before you.”--“Let her come in,” cried the prince, in a transport of joy; and saying this he raised himself in his bed to receive her.

As the attendants of the prince had left the room when Ebn Thaher entered it, that he might be alone with their master, Ebn Thaher went to open the door himself, and desire the confidant to come in. The prince recollected her, and received her in a very obliging manner. “My lord,” said she, “I know all the pains you have suffered, since I had the honour of conducting you to the boat, which waited to take you back; but I hope, that the letter I bring you will contribute to your recovery.” She then presented to him the letter; he took it, and after having kissed it several times, he opened it, and read the following words:

“SCHEMSELNIHAR TO ALI EBN BECAR, PRINCE OF PERSIA.

“The person who will deliver this letter to you, will give you an account of me better than I can myself; for I know nothing, since I ceased beholding you. Deprived of your presence, I seek to continue the illusion, and converse with you by means of these ill-formed lines, which afford me some pleasure, while I am prevented the happiness of speaking to you.

“Patience, they say, is the remedy for all evils: yet those I suffer are increased instead of relieved by it. Although your image is indelibly engraven on my heart, my eyes nevertheless wish again to behold the original; and their sight will forsake them, if they remain deprived of that gratification for any length of time. Dare I flatter myself, that yours experience the same impatience to see me? Yes, I may; they have sufficiently proved it to me by their tender glances. Happy would Schemselnihar be, happy would you be, prince, if my wishes, which are conformable to yours, were not opposed by insurmountable obstacles! These obstacles occasion me an affliction so much the more poignant, as they are the cause of sorrow to you.

“These sentiments, which my fingers trace, and in expressing of which I feel such inconceivable pleasure, that I cannot repeat them too often, proceed from the bottom of my heart; from that incurable wound you have made in it; a wound which I bless a thousand times, notwithstanding the cruel sufferings I endure in your absence. I should little heed all that opposes our love, were I only permitted to see you occasionally without restraint. You would then be mine; and what more could I desire?

“Do not imagine that my words convey more than I feel. Alas! whatever expressions I may use, I shall still think much more than I can ever say. My eyes, which never cease looking for you, and incessantly weep till they shall behold you again; my afflicted heart which seeks but you; my sighs which escape my lips, whenever I think on you, and that is continually; my imagination which never reflects any object but my beloved prince; the complaints I utter to Heaven of the rigour of my fate; in short, my melancholy, my uneasiness, my sufferings from which I have had no respite since I lost sight of you, are all sufficient pledges of the truth of what I write.

“Am I not truly unfortunate to be born to love, love, without indulging the hope of possessing the object of my affections? This distracting reflection overpowers me to such a degree, that I should die, were I not persuaded that you love me. But this sweet consolation counteracts my despair, and attaches me to life. Tell me that you love me still. I will preserve your letter with precious care; I will read it a thousand times a-day; and I shall then bear my sorrows with less impatience. I pray that heaven may no longer be irritated against us, and may grant us an opportunity of telling each other, without restraint, the tender affection we feel, and that we will never cease to love. Farewell.

“I salute Ebn Thaher, to whom we each have so many obligations.”

The prince of Persia was not satisfied with reading this letter only once; he thought he had not bestowed sufficient attention on it; he read it again more deliberately, and while thus engaged he alternately uttered deep sighs and wept; he then would burst into transports of joy and tenderness, according to the different emotions he experienced from the contents of the letter. In short, he could not withdraw his eyes from the characters, traced by so dear a hand, and he was going to read it a third time, when Ebn Thaher represented to him, that the slave had no time to lose, and that he must prepare an answer. “Alas!” cried the prince, “how can I reply to so obliging and kind a letter? In what terms shall I describe the state of my soul? My mind is agitated by a thousand distressing thoughts, and my sentiments are destroyed, before I have time to express them by others, which in their turn are erased as soon as formed. While my body is so much in unison with the situation of my mind, how shall I be able to hold the paper and guide the cane to form the letters?”

Saying this, he drew from a little writing-case, which was near him, some paper, a cut cane, and an ink-horn; but before he began to write, he gave the letter of Schemselnihar to Ebn Thaher, and begged him to hold it open whilst he wrote, that by occasionally casting his eyes over it, he might be better enabled to answer it. He took up the writing-cane to begin; but the tears, which flowed from his eyes on the paper, frequently obliged him to stop to allow them a free current. He at length finished his letter, and giving it to Ebn Thaher, “Do me the favor to read it,” said he, “and see, if the agitation my spirits are in, has allowed me to write a proper answer.” Ebn Thaher took it, and read as follows:

“THE PRINCE OF PERSIA TO SCHEMSELNIHAR.