Part 17

The jeweller was much pleased at finding it, as it afforded him an excellent method of justifying himself in the mind of the confidant, and bringing the matter to the point he wished. As he finished reading it, he perceived the slave herself, who was looking about with great distress and anxiety to recover it. He directly folded it up, and put it in his bosom, but the confidant, having observed his motions, ran up to him; “Sir,” said she, “I have dropped the letter, which you had just now in your hand; I beg you to have the goodness to return it me.” The jeweller pretended not to hear her, and continued walking on, till he got home, without answering a word: he did not shut the door after him, that the confidant, who still followed him, might, if she pleased, come in. This she did not fail to do, and when she had reached his apartment, she said to him, “Sir, you can make no use of the letter you have found, and you would have no difficulty in giving it me again, if you knew from whom it came, and to whom it is addressed. Give me leave to tell you also, that you do not act justly by detaining it.”

Before he returned any answer to the slave, the jeweller made her sit down; he then said to her, “Is it not true, that the letter in question is from Schemselnihar, and that it is addressed to the prince of Persia?” The slave, who did not expect this question, changed colour; “This inquiry seems to embarrass you,” continued he, “but understand that indiscreet curiosity is not my motive for asking this; I could have given you the letter in the street, but I wished to induce you to follow me here, because I am desirous of explaining my motives to you. Tell me, is it just to impute a disastrous event to any one who has not in the most distant manner contributed to it. This, however, is exactly what you did, when you told the prince of Persia, that I advised Ebn Thaher to leave Bagdad for his own security. I will not, however, lose time in justifying myself to you; it is enough that the prince of Persia is fully persuaded of my innocence in this point. I will only say, that instead of having aided Ebn Thaher in his departure, I am extremely mortified at it; not so much through my friendship for him, as through compassion for the situation in which he left the prince, whose intercourse with Schemselnihar he made me acquainted with. As soon as I was certain that Ebn Thaher was no longer in Bagdad, I ran and presented myself to the prince, with whom you found me; I informed him of this news, and, at the same time, offered him the same services which Ebn Thaher had afforded him. I have succeeded in my design, and provided you place as much confidence in me as you did in Ebn Thaher, it will be your own fault if I am not equally useful. Give an account to your mistress of what I have now said to you, and assure her, that though I may lose my life by engaging in so dangerous an enterprise, I shall never repent having sacrificed myself for two lovers so worthy of each other.”

The confidential slave listened to what the jeweller said with great satisfaction. She requested him to pardon her for the bad opinion she had entertained of him, which arose merely from the zeal she felt for Schemselnihar’s interests. “I much rejoice,” added she, “that the Favorite and the prince of Persia have been so fortunate as to find in you so proper a person to supply the place of Ebn Thaher: and I will not fail to give my mistress a favorable account of the strong inclination you have to serve her.

After the confidant had thus expressed the pleasure it afforded her to find the jeweller so disposed to be useful to Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia, he took the letter out of his bosom and gave it her. “Take it,” he cried, “and carry it immediately to the prince; and then come back this way, that I may see the answer which he sends. And do not also forget to give him an account of our conversation.” The slave took the letter, and carried it to the prince of Persia, who answered it without any delay. She then returned to the jeweller’s, to show him the answer, which contained these words:

“THE PRINCE OF PERSIA TO SCHEMSELNIHAR.

“Your dear letter has produced a great effect upon me: but yet not so great as I could wish. You endeavour to console me for the loss of Ebn Thaher. Alas! however sensible I may be of it, this is only the least part of the evils I endure. You know these evils; and you know, that your presence can alone cure them. When, alas, will the period arrive, in which I can enjoy that dear leisure without the dread of being again deprived of it? How distant does it appear to me! Rather, perhaps, we ought not to flatter ourselves, that we shall ever meet again. You tell me to take care of myself. I will obey you, since I have made every inclination of my heart subservient to you. Farewell.”

When he had read this letter, the jeweller returned it to the confidant, who, as she was departing, said to him; “I am going, sir, to induce my mistress to place the same confidence in you which she did in Ebn Thaher. To-morrow you will have some intelligence from me.” And he saw her, in fact, arrive the very next day with great satisfaction marked in her countenance. “The sight of you alone,” said he, “proves to me, that you found Schemselnihar in the disposition of mind you wished.”--“It is true,” she answered, “and you shall hear the manner in which I brought it about. I found her yesterday,” continued the confidant, “waiting for me with the greatest impatience. I put the letter of the prince into her hand, and she read it, while her eyes were bathed in tears. As I perceived she was going to give herself up to her accustomed grief, ‘Madam,’ said I, ‘it is, without doubt, the departure of Ebn Thaher which so much afflicts you: but permit me to conjure you, in the name of God, not to alarm yourself any more on that subject. We have found another like himself, who has offered to engage in your service with equal zeal, and what is of more consequence, with greater courage!’ I then mentioned you to her,” continued the slave, “and told her the motives which induced you to go to the prince of Persia. In short, I assured her, that you would ever preserve the secret intercourse between her and the prince inviolable, and that you were determined to aid their attachment with all your power. She appeared greatly consoled at this speech, ‘What obligation,’ she exclaimed, ‘ought we to feel ourselves under to the excellent man you have mentioned! I wish to know him, to see him, to hear from his own lips what you have now told me; and to thank him for his almost unheard-of generosity towards persons who have not the slightest reason to expect him to interest himself in so fervent a manner. His sight will afford me pleasure; and I will omit nothing that I think will confirm him in his good opinions and intentions. Do not neglect to go to him to-morrow morning and bring him here.’ You must therefore, sir, if you please, take the trouble to go with me to her palace.”

This speech of the confidant’s very much embarrassed the jeweller. “Your mistress,” he replied, “must permit me to say, that she has not thought sufficiently of what she has required of me. The free access which Ebn Thaher had to the caliph, gave him admission every where; and the officers and attendants, who knew him, suffered him to go backwards and forwards to the palace of Schemselnihar without molestation. But how dare I enter it! You must yourself see that the thing is impossible. I entreat you, therefore, to explain to Schemselnihar the reasons which ought to prevent me from giving her this satisfaction, and represent to her all the unpleasant consequences that might happen from it. And if she will consider the matter again in the slightest degree, she will easily see, that she exposes me to a very great danger without the least use.”

The confidential slave endeavoured to encourage the jeweller. “Do you suppose,” she said, “that Schemselnihar is so regardless as to expose you, from whom she expects a continuance of the most important services, to the least danger, in ordering you to come to her? Recollect yourself; and you will find, there is not even the appearance of danger. Both my lady and myself are too much interested in this affair to engage you in it without due consideration. You may, therefore, very safely trust me to conduct you: and after it is all finished, you will readily enough acknowledge, that your alarms are without any foundation.”

The jeweller yielded to the arguments of the confidant; and got up to follow her. In spite, however, of all the courage he piqued himself upon possessing, his fears so far got the better of him, that he trembled from head to foot. “From the state which I perceive you are in,” cried she, “I am sure you had better remain at home, and Schemselnihar pursue some other mode of seeing you: and I have no doubt, from the great desire she feels, that she will come and find you out herself. This being the case, sir, do not go out; for I am convinced it will not be long before you will see her arrive.” The confidant was not wrong in her conjectures; for she had no sooner informed Schemselnihar of the fright of the jeweller, than the latter instantly made preparations to go to his house.

He received her with every mark of the most profound respect. As soon as she had sat down, for she was a little fatigued with her walk, she took off her veil, and discovered so much beauty to the eyes of the jeweller, that he instantly confessed, in his own mind, how excusable it was in the prince of Persia to have devoted his heart to the Favorite of the caliph. She then accosted the jeweller in the kindest manner, and said to him, “I could not possibly become acquainted with the great interest you take in the welfare of the prince of Persia and myself, without instantly forming the design of thanking you in person; and I am truly grateful to Heaven for having so soon, and so well, supplied the great loss we suffered in Ebn Thaher.”

Schemselnihar added many other obliging things in her speech to the jeweller; and then returned to her palace. The jeweller himself instantly went, and gave the prince of Persia an account of this visit; who, when he saw him arrive, called out, “I have been waiting for you with the greatest impatience. The confidential slave has brought me a letter from her mistress: but this letter has afforded me no comfort. Although the amiable Schemselnihar may endeavour to give me every encouragement, yet I dare not indulge my hopes, and my patience is quite exhausted. I know not what plan to follow. The departure of Ebn Thaher has thrown me into despair. He was my support; and, in losing him, I have lost every thing; for in the free access he had to Schemselnihar, I did flatter myself with some hopes.”

At these words, which the prince uttered in a very expressive manner, and so rapidly that the jeweller had no opportunity of putting in a word before, he said, “No one, prince, can take a greater interest in your misfortunes than I do; and if you will have the patience to listen to me, you will find, that I can afford you some comfort. At this speech the prince held his tongue, and was attentive, “I very clearly see,” added the jeweller, “that the only means of satisfying you, is to enable you to converse with and see Schemselnihar without any restraint. This is a satisfaction I wish to procure you; and I will set about it to-morrow. It will not, I trust, be necessary to expose you to the risk of going to the palace of Schemselnihar? you know, from experience, how dangerous a plan that is. I am acquainted with a much more proper place for this interview; and where you will both be in safety.” When the jeweller had finished this speech, the prince embraced him with the greatest transport.

“You reanimate, by this delightful promise,” he exclaimed, “an unfortunate lover, who felt himself already condemned to death. From what I already hear, I am sure I have fully repaired the loss of Ebn Thaher. Whatever you undertake will, I know, be done well; and I give myself entirely up to your direction.”

After the prince had thanked the jeweller for the zeal he had shown in his service, the latter returned home; where the confidential slave of Schemselnihar came the next morning to seek him. He informed her, that he had given the prince of Persia some hopes of seeing Schemselnihar very soon. “I am come expressly,” she cried, “to concert some measures with you for that purpose. It appears to me,” she added, “that this very house is well adapted for their meeting.”--“I should not have the least objection to their coming here,” replied the jeweller, “but I think they will be much more at liberty in another house which I have, and which is inhabited by no one. I will immediately have it handsomely furnished to receive them.”--“This being the case,” rejoined the slave, “nothing more remains to be done, but to get the Favorite to agree to it. I will go and speak to her on the subject, and will return in a very short time, and give you her answer.”

It was not long before she came back; and she told the jeweller, that Schemselnihar would not fail to be at the appointed place towards the close of the day. She at the same time put a purse into his hands, and told him, it was to procure an excellent collation. The jeweller directly carried the slave to the house where the lovers were to meet, that she might know where it was, and be able to conduct her mistress thither: and, as soon as they parted, he went to borrow from his friends some gold and silver plate, some carpets, some very rich cushions, and other furniture, with which he ornamented the house in the most magnificent manner. When he had got every thing in readiness, he went to the prince of Persia.

Imagine to yourself the joy of the prince, when the jeweller informed him, that he was come for the purpose of conducting him to a house which was prepared on purpose for his and Schemselnihar’s reception. This intelligence made him forget all his vexations, all his disappointments, and all his sufferings. He put on a most magnificent dress, and went out, without even one attendant, with the jeweller, who led him through many unfrequented streets to his house, in order that no one might observe them, where he introduced him, and where they remained in conversation till the arrival of Schemselnihar.

They did not wait a great while for this too doting fair-one. She arrived directly after prayers at sun-set, accompanied by her confidential and two other slaves. It would be useless to attempt to express to you the excess of joy these two lovers evinced at the sight of each other; the delineation is almost impossible. They sat down upon a sofa, and at first looked at each other without being able to utter a single word, so much were their minds absorbed in mutual contemplation. But the use of their speech was no sooner returned, than they made ample amends for their former silence. They expressed themselves in so tender and affecting a manner, that even the jeweller, the confidant, and the two slaves, could not refrain from shedding tears. It was necessary, however, for the jeweller to dry his tears, and to think about the collation, which he set before them with his own hands. The lovers eat and drank but very slightly; after which they returned to the sofa, and Schemselnihar asked the jeweller, if he happened to have a lute, or any other instrument. The jeweller, who took care to provide every thing which he thought might afford them pleasure, immediately brought a lute. The Favorite spent a few moments in tuning it, and then began to sing.

While Schemselnihar was thus delighting the prince of Persia, by expressing her love for him in words which she composed at the moment, they suddenly heard a great noise; and a slave, whom the jeweller had brought with him, instantly rushed in, frightened to death, and said, that some people were forcing the door; that he had demanded of them who it was, when, instead of returning any answer, they redoubled their blows. The jeweller, greatly alarmed, left Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia to go and inform himself of the truth of this bad news. He went as far as the court, when, through the obscurity of the place, he observed a troop of men, armed with scimitars, who had already forced the door, and were coming directly towards him. The jeweller got up close to the wall, as quickly as possible, and, without being observed, he saw them pass by, to the number of ten.

As he thought he could be of no use in assisting the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, he contented himself with lamenting their sad situation, and took flight as fast as possible. He ran out of his own house, and went for safety to that of a neighbour, who was not yet retired for the night; not doubting, that this unforeseen and violent attack was made by order of the caliph, who had by some means been informed of the place of appointment between the Favorite and the prince of Persia. The house, to which he fled for safety, was not so far distant, but that he heard the noise they made at his own; and this noise continued till midnight. Then, as every thing appeared to him to be silent, he requested his neighbour to lend him a sabre, and, armed in this manner, he sallied forth. He went to the door of his own house; and, entering the court, perceived, with great alarm, a man, who demanded who he was. He instantly recognised the voice of his slave. “How have you been able,” cried the jeweller, “to escape being taken by the guard?”--“Sir,” replied the slave, “I concealed myself in the corner of the court, and I came out as soon as the noise had ceased. But it was not the guard that broke in your house; they were robbers, who, for some days past, have infested this quarter of the city, and pillaged almost every one. They have, without doubt, remarked, that some rich furniture has been brought here; and this was certainly their object.”

The jeweller thought the conjecture of his slave too probable. He examined the house, and found, in fact, that the robbers had taken away the beautiful furniture of the apartment in which he had received Schemselnihar and her lover; and had carried off all the gold and silver plate, not leaving an individual thing behind them. At this sight he was quite in despair. “Oh, heavens!” he exclaimed, “I am undone, without the chance of redress or recovery. What will my friends say, and what excuse can I make them, when I shall inform them the thieves have broken open my house, and robbed me of every thing they had so generously lent me? How can I ever compensate them for the loss they have suffered through me? Besides, what can have become of Schemselnihar and the prince of Persia? This affair will make a great noise, and it infallibly must reach the ears of the caliph. He will be informed of this assignation, and I shall be the victim of his rage.” The slave, who was very much attached to his master, tried to console him. With regard to Schemselnihar,” he said, “there is no doubt but that the robbers would be contented with despoiling her of her valuables, and you may be assured she will return to her palace with her slaves: and the same will probably be the fate of the prince of Persia. You have every reason, therefore, to hope, that the caliph will remain in total ignorance of this adventure. As for the loss which your friends have suffered, it is a misfortune you cannot help, nor were able to avoid. They very well know, that the robbers are here in great numbers, and that they have had the boldness to pillage, not only the houses I have mentioned to you, but many others belonging to the principal noblemen of the court; and they are not ignorant, that in spite of the orders which have been issued, to seize them, not one of them has hitherto been taken, notwithstanding all the exertions and diligence that have been used. You will make them every recompense in returning to your friends the full value of the things you have been robbed of, and you will then still have, God be praised, a tolerable fortune remaining.”

While they were waiting till it was day-light, the jeweller made the slave mend the door of the house that had been forced, as well as he could. After this, he went back with his slave to that he commonly lived in; making the most melancholy reflections all the way he walked along. “Ebn Thaher,” said he to himself, “has been wiser than I have: he has foreseen this misfortune, into which I have blindly run headlong. I wish to God I had never taken any part in an intrigue which may perhaps cost me my life.”

It was hardly day when the report of this house having been broken open and pillaged spread itself through the city, and was the cause of a great number of the jeweller’s friends and neighbours assembling at his habitation; the most part of whom, under the pretext of expressing their sorrow for this accident, only came to hear the account more at large. He did not omit to thank them for the kindness of their inquiries: and he had, at least, the consolation of finding, that no one mentioned either the prince of Persia or Schemselnihar, which led him to hope, that they were returned home, or had retired to some place of safety.

When the jeweller was again alone, his people served up a repast; but he could not eat any thing. It was now about mid-day; when one of his slaves came and informed him, there was a man at the door, whom he did not know, who said, he wanted to speak with him. As the jeweller did not wish to admit an entire stranger into his house, he got up and went to speak to him at the door. “Although you do not know me,” said the man, “I am not unacquainted with you, and I am come to you upon a most important affair.” At these words the jeweller requested him to come into the house. “By no means,” replied the stranger, “you must, if you please, take the trouble to go with me to your other house.”--“How came you to know,” answered the jeweller, “that I have any other house besides this?”--“I am very well acquainted with that,” said the stranger; “and therefore you have only to follow me, and fear nothing; I have something to communicate to you that will give you pleasure.” The jeweller then went with him, but informed him, by the way, in what manner his house had been robbed, and that it was not in a state in which to receive any one.

When they had arrived opposite to the house, and the stranger saw that the door was half broken, he said to the jeweller, “I see, indeed, that you have spoken the truth; I will conduct you, then, to a place where we shall be better accommodated.” Having said this, they continued walking on, nor did they stop during the remainder of the day. Fatigued with the distance they had come, vexed at seeing night so near at hand, and wondering at the silence which the stranger kept respecting the place they were going to, the jeweller began to lose all his patience, when they arrived at an open place, which led down to the Tigris. As soon as they were on the banks of that river they embarked in a small boat, and passed over to the other side. The stranger then conducted the jeweller down a long street, where he had never before been; and, after passing through I know not how many unfrequented lanes, he stopped at a door, which he opened. He desired the jeweller to go in, shut the door after him, and fastened it with a large iron bar. He then conducted him into an apartment, where there were ten other men, who were not less strangers to the jeweller than the one who had brought him there.