Part 30

Assad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who did not bestow less commendation on the morality of the sentences, than on the beauty of the writing; in short, nothing more was requisite to inflame her heart and make her feel unfeigned compassion for the unfortunate youth. She had no sooner finished reading it, than she addressed herself to Behram; “Choose which you will do,” said she, “either sell me this slave or give him to me; perhaps you may find it most to your advantage to do the latter.” Behram replied, in a very insolent manner, that he had no choice to make, for that he wanted his slave and should therefore keep him.

Margiana, irritated by this behaviour, said no more to Behram, but taking Assad by the arm, made him walk before her, till they reached the palace, when she sent to acquaint Behram, that she should confiscate all his property, and set fire to his vessel in the middle of the harbour if he attempted to pass the night there. He was obliged to return to his vessel truly mortified; and, to prepare with the utmost diligence for sailing, although the tempest had not entirely subsided.

The queen having, on her return to the palace, ordered supper to be instantly served, conducted prince Assad to her apartment, where she made him sit next her. Assad wished to decline it, saying that so great an honor was not to be conferred on a slave. “On a slave!” exclaimed the queen, “a moment since and you were one, but you are now no longer a slave. Sit down next me, I tell you, and relate your history to me; for I am certain, by what you wrote just now, as well as by the insolence of that merchant, that it must be very extraordinary.”

Prince Assad obeyed; and when he was seated, “Most powerful queen,” said he, “your majesty is not mistaken; my history is indeed extraordinary, and more so perhaps than you can imagine. The grief, the almost inconceivable torments I have undergone, and the cruel species of death to which I was destined, and from which you have delivered me with truly royal generosity, will convince you of the magnitude of your kind office, which will be indelibly impressed on my memory. But before I enter on this detail, which can only excite horror, you must permit me to begin from the earliest date of my misfortunes.”

After this preface, which very much increased the curiosity of Margiana, Assad began by acquainting her of his royal birth, together with that of his brother, prince Amgiad, of their reciprocal friendship, of the odious passion conceived for them by their mothers-in-law, which so suddenly changed into an implacable hatred, and thus became the origin of their singular adventures. He then told her of the anger of the king, his father, of the almost miraculous manner in which their lives had been preserved, and lastly, of the irreparable loss he had sustained in his brother, and the long and cruel imprisonment he was but just relieved from, only to be immolated on the fiery mountain.

When Assad had finished his relation, Margiana, more than ever irritated against the idolaters of fire, said to him, “Prince, notwithstanding the aversion I have always felt against the worshippers of fire, I have nevertheless conducted myself with great humanity towards them; but after the barbarous treatment you have experienced from them, and their execrable design of sacrificing you as a victim to the object of their idolatory, I henceforth declare implacable war against them.” She would have indulged her invectives still further on this subject, had not supper been served; and she sat down to table with prince Assad, charmed with his presence, and delighted to hear him; being already prejudiced in his favor by a rising flame, which she purposed to take an early opportunity of disclosing to him. “Prince,” said she, “you must now make up for all the fasting and bad meals which the pitiless worshippers of fire obliged you to endure. You want nourishment after so many sufferings.” Saying these and other words of the same nature, she helped him repeatedly both to eat and drink; the repast lasted a considerable time, and Assad drank some glasses more than he could well bear. When the table was cleared, Assad wished to breathe the fresh air, and took the opportunity of going out when the queen did not perceive him. He went down into the court, and seeing the gate of the garden open he entered it. Attracted by the various beauties of the spot, he walked about for some time. He at length went towards a fountain, which formed one of the principal ornaments of the garden, and washed his hands and face in it to refresh himself; then sitting down to rest himself on the lawn which bordered it, he insensibly fell asleep.

Night was approaching, and Behram, who did not wish to afford Margiana an opportunity of executing her menaces, had already weighed anchor, not a little vexed at having lost Assad, and being thus frustrated in his hope of sacrificing his victim. He endeavoured, however, to console himself with the reflection that the storm had ceased, and that a land-breeze favored his departure. As soon as he had got out of the harbour with the assistance of his boat, before he drew it up into the ship, “My lads,” said he to the sailors who were in it, “Stay a little and don’t come up yet; I am going to give you the casks to fetch water, and I will wait for you just off the shore.” The sailors, who did not know where they should be able to procure any, excused themselves from going; but Behram, while he was speaking with the queen in the garden, had remarked the fountain: “Go ashore at the garden of the palace,” said he, “get over the wall, which is not breast high, and you will find plenty of water in the bason that is in the middle of the garden.”

The sailors went on shore in the place described to them by Behram, and each having taken a cask on his shoulders, they easily got over the wall. As they approached the bason, they perceived a man lying asleep on the bank; and when they drew nearer they discovered him to be Assad. They divided into two parties; and whilst one set was filling the casks as quietly, and with the greatest dispatch possible, the other had surrounded Assad, and watched to secure him in case he should wake. He did not, however, disturb them, and when the casks were filled, and hoisted on the shoulders of those who were to carry them, the others seized him and took him away before he had time to recollect himself; they conveyed him over the wall, put him in the boat along with their casks, and rowed with all their strength to the ship. When they had nearly reached it, they cried out, with repeated bursts of joy, “Captain, order your hautboys and your drums, we bring you back your slave.”

Behram, who could not conceive how his seamen had been able to find and retake Assad, and who could not discern him in the boat, owing to the darkness of the night, waited with impatience for their coming on board to inquire what they meant; but when he saw the prince before him, he could not contain himself for joy; and without staying to be informed how they had managed to succeed in so valuable a capture, he put on his irons again, and ordering his boat to be hauled up as quickly as possible, he bent his course full sail towards the mountain of fire.

Margiana, in the mean time, was in the greatest alarm; she did not feel uneasy at first, when she perceived the absence of prince Assad, as she did not doubt he would soon return, she waited patiently for him; but finding that after a considerable time had elapsed, he did not make his appearance, she began to be very uneasy. She commanded her women to search for him, which they did, but to no purpose, and they could bring her no intelligence of him. Night came on, and she had him sought for with lights, but still as ineffectually.

In the state of impatience and alarm which Margiana experienced, she went herself to look for the prince by the light of flambeaux, and as she observed that the garden gate was open, she went in with her women, supposing he might be there. Passing near the fountain, she observed a slipper on the bank, which, when examined, she, as well as her women, knew to be one of those worn by the prince. This circumstance, added to the quantity of water spilt on the edge of the bason, led her to conclude that Behram might have taken him away by force. She immediately sent to inquire if his ship was still in the harbour; and as she was informed that he had sailed just before the night came on, that he had stopped for some time off the shore, and that his boat had been to fetch water from her garden, she instantly dispatched a messenger to the commander of ten ships of war, which were always kept in port fully equipped and ready to sail on the shortest notice, to acquaint him, that she intended to embark the following day, about an hour after sun-rise.

The commander was diligent in obeying her orders; she assembled the captains and other officers, the sailors and soldiers; and every thing was ready by the appointed hour. She embarked, and when her squadron got out to sea and was in full sail, she declared her intention to the commander, “You must use all expedition,” said she, “and pursue the merchant vessel which sailed from the harbour yesterday evening. I give it up as your prize, if you take it; but if you do not succeed, your life shall be the forfeit.”

The ten ships chased Behram’s vessel for two whole days, without being able to get within sight of it. On the third they discovered it at break of day; and by noon they had surrounded it so that it could not escape. The cruel Behram had no sooner perceived the ten vessels than he concluded it must be the squadron of queen Margiana in pursuit of him, and he immediately inflicted the bastinado on prince Assad; for he had continued that practice daily, from the time he had left the city of the Magi; and he now repeated his chastisement with more violence than usual. He was extremely embarrassed, when he found he was on the point of being surrounded on all sides. If he kept Assad, he proved himself culpable. If he deprived him of life, he was fearful that some mark might remain to discover his guilt. He had him unchained, and the prince was then made to go up from the hold of the ship, where he was confined, and appear before him. “It is thou,” said he, “who art the cause of our being pursued,” and, on saying this, he threw him into the sea.

Prince Assad could swim very well, and made use of his hands and feet with so much success, that, assisted by the waves, which bore him towards the shore, he had sufficient strength to hold out till he reached land. When he was in safety, the first thing he did was to return thanks to God for having delivered him from so great a peril, and again favoured his escape from the hands of the idolaters of fire. He then undressed himself, and having wrung the water from his clothes, he spread them on a rock to dry. This was soon effected, as well from the heat of the sun, as from that of the rock, which had received considerable warmth from the power of its rays.

He laid down for some time, deploring his miserable fate, ignorant of the country in which he was, and uncertain which way to go. He then took up his clothes, put them on, and without leaving the coast he began to proceed, and continued walking till he came to a road, which he followed. He pursued this path or road, for ten days, through a country that seemed to be without inhabitants: and in which he found nothing but wild fruits, and a few plants along the banks of the rivulets, on which he lived. He at last arrived at a town, which he immediately knew to be the city of the Magi, where he had been so ill used, and where his brother Amgiad was grand vizier. At this he was much rejoiced; but was determined to address himself to no one, whom he knew to be a worshipper of fire, but only to speak to mussulmen; for he remembered to have remarked a few of the latter as he came into the city the first time. As it was late, and he knew very well that all the shops were shut up, and that few people were abroad at that hour, he resolved to go into a burial-place, which was close to the town, and pass the night there, as there were many tombs in it that were built like mausoleums. In looking about he discovered one, of which the door was open. He went in, and determined to remain there.

We will now return to the vessel of Behram. It was not a great while after he had thrown Assad into the sea, before it was surrounded on all sides by the fleet of Margiana. He was first boarded by the ship in which the queen herself was; and as he was not able to make any resistance, Behram at her approach hauled down his sails as a mark of having surrendered.

Margiana immediately went on board the vessel, and asked Behram where the secretary was whom he had the audacity either to take away, or to make others carry him from her palace. “Queen,” replied Behram, “I swear to your majesty, that he is not on board my vessel: if you will order it to be searched you will then know my innocence.”

Margiana commanded the vessel to be searched with the greatest possible strictness; but he whom she was so desirous of finding, as much for the love she had for him, as from her natural goodness of disposition, could not be found. She was even on the point of killing Behram with her own hand; but she restrained herself, and was satisfied with confiscating the vessel and all its cargo, and putting him and all the sailors afloat in their open boat, with the chance of reaching the shore. Having landed, Behram and his crew went on, and happened to arrive at the city of the Magi on the very same night in which Assad had taken refuge in the burial-ground, and retired to the tomb. As the gate of the city was shut, he was also obliged to have recourse to the cemetery, and to find some tomb to wait in, till day appeared, and the gate was again open.

Unfortunately for Assad, Behram came to that in which he was. He went in, and saw a man asleep, with his head wrapped in his clothes. The prince awoke at the noise, and lifting up his head, demanded who was there. Behram immediately recognised him: “Ah, ah,” said he, “is it then you, who are the cause of my being ruined for the rest of my life. You have escaped being sacrificed this year, but you shall not evade it again on the following.” Having said this, he threw himself upon him, put his handkerchief into his mouth, to prevent his calling out, and then made his sailors bind him.

The next morning, as soon as the gate of the city was open, it was very easy for Behram to carry Assad back to the old man’s house, who had so completely deceived him by his cunning tricks; and by taking him through unfrequented streets, as few people were yet risen, he was sure of not being discovered. As soon as he arrived there, he took him into the same dungeon from whence he had before been brought, and then went and informed the old man of the unfortunate cause of his return, and the bad success of his voyage. The wicked wretch did not forget to impress his two daughters very strongly with the necessity of ill-treating the unfortunate prince in a still worse manner, if possible, than before.

Assad was extremely surprised at finding himself again in the same place where he had already suffered so much; and in expectation of the same tortures, from which he thought himself delivered for ever. He wept, and was lamenting the hardness of his destiny, when he saw Bostana enter the dungeon with a stick in her hand, a piece of bread, and a pitcher of water. He trembled at the sight of this merciless creature, and groaned aloud when he reflected upon the daily torments he was again to endure for another whole year, before he was to be led to his most horrible kind of death.

Bostana, however, did not treat the unfortunate Assad in so cruel a manner as she had done, when he was in this prison the former time. The lamentations, the complaints, and the continual prayers of the prince to spare him, joined to his tears, were at length so powerful, that Bostana could not avoid being softened by them, and even to mingle her tears with his. “Sir,” she said to Assad, as she again covered his shoulders, “I ask you a thousand pardons for the cruelty with which I have before treated you, and of which I have again made you feel the ill effects. Hitherto I have been afraid of disobeying my father, who is so unjustly enraged against you, and who is determined upon your destruction. But I now detest and abhor his barbarity. Console yourself, therefore, for your evils are at an end; and I am going to repair all my crimes, the enormity of which I am well aware of, by better treatment. You have hitherto looked upon me as an infidel; you must for the future regard me as a mussulman. I have already received much instruction from a female slave, who attends me; I hope that you will complete what she has begun. To prove to you my good intentions, I ask pardon of the true God for all my offences against, and ill treatment of, you; and I have full confidence, that he will discover to me the means of restoring you to your full liberty.”

This speech afforded prince Assad great consolation; he offered up his grateful thanks to God for instilling such kindness into the heart of Bostana, and converting her to the true religion. After first thanking her for the good opinion she had expressed for him, he neglected nothing that he thought would confirm her in her new opinions; not only by endeavoring to instruct her still further in the various doctrines of the mussulman religion, but even giving her a long and faithful account of himself, of all his misfortunes, and his illustrious descent. As soon as he was convinced of her firmness in the good resolutions she had taken, he asked her how she would be able to prevent her sister Cavama from becoming acquainted with this change; and also from using him so ill, when it should be her turn; “Let not that give you any pain,” replied Bostana, “I know very well how to manage, so that she shall give herself no further trouble about you.”

In fact, Bostana found some means of preventing Cavama, every time she expressed a wish to go into the dungeon. She herself, however, saw the prince very often; and instead of carrying only bread and water to him, as she was ordered, she brought him wine, and a variety of excellent food, which was prepared by twelve mussulman slaves, who attended on her. She frequently also partook of his repasts with him, and did every thing in her power to console him.

Some days after prince Assad’s return to the city of the Magi, Bostana happened to be at the door of her house, when she heard the public crier giving notice of something. As she could not understand what the crier said, because he was so far off, and as she observed him coming up towards the house, she went in, but left the door a little open and listened. She saw him walking on before the grand vizier, Amgiad, prince Assad’s brother, accompanied by several officers of state: and with a great multitude of people following them.

The crier had not gone many steps from the door before he made the following proclamation in a loud tone of voice; _The most excellent and illustrious grand vizier, who is now present, comes in person to inquire after, and seek for, his dear brother, who has been separated from him for more than a year. His person and description are as follows. If any person has given him a lodging at his house, or knows where he is, his Excellency commands them to bring him to him, or to give him some information concerning him, and he promises to reward them handsomely. But if any one shall conceal and detain him, and he shall afterwards be discovered, his Excellency declares that he will punish such persons with death, together with their wives, their children, and all their family; and will also raze their houses to the ground._

Bostana no sooner heard these words than she instantly shut the door, and went to the dungeon, where Assad was. “Prince,” cried she in a joyful manner, “your misfortunes are at length terminated, follow me as quickly as possible.” Assad, whom she had released from his chains on the very first day that he had been brought back to the dungeon, followed her into the street, and when there, she instantly cried out, “Behold him, behold him.” The grand vizier, who had not proceeded far, turned round. Assad instantly recognised his brother, ran towards him, and fell into his arms. Amgiad too knew him from the first moment, and embraced him. He then made him mount the horse of one of his officers, who returned on foot, and conducted him in triumph to the palace, where he presented him to the king, who appointed him one of his viziers.

Bostana, who after this event did not wish to return to her father’s, whose house was razed to the ground the very same day, and did not leave prince Assad till he arrived at the palace, was sent to an apartment belonging to the queen. The old man, her father, and Behram, as well as all their families, being brought the next day before the king, he ordered them all to lose their heads. On this, they threw themselves at his feet, and implored his mercy. “You shall have no mercy shown you,” replied the king, “unless you renounce the adoration of fire, and embrace the mussulman religion.” By adopting this conduct, they saved their lives; and so also did Cavama, the sister of Bostana, and all their families.

In consideration of Behram’s being converted to a mussulman, and in order to give him some recompense for the loss he had before suffered, Amgiad made him one of his principal officers, and lodged him at his own house. A few days after, when Behram was made acquainted with the adventures of his benefactor Amgiad and his brother Assad, he proposed to fit out a vessel, and to carry them back to their father Camaralzaman. “There is no doubt,” he said, “but that the king is by this time convinced of your innocence, and is impatient to see you again. Should, however, that not be the case, it is very easy to be informed of it before you land, and then, should he still continue in his unjust prepossession, you will find no difficulty in returning.”

The two brothers accepted Behram’s offer. They mentioned their design to the king, who not only approved of it, but gave orders for the immediate equipment of a vessel. Behram hastened the preparations as much as possible; and when he was ready to set sail, the princes went and took leave of the king on the morning before they embarked. While they were paying their compliments, and thanking the monarch for all his kindness to them, they heard a great bustle and tumult through the whole city; and at the same moment an officer came, and said, that a very large army was approaching, and that no one could tell to whom it belonged.

Observing the alarm that this bad news gave the king, Amgiad said to him, “Although, Sire, I am now come for the purpose of resigning the office of grand vizier, with which you have honored me, I am, notwithstanding, ready to take upon myself the charge of rendering you any service in my power; and I entreat you to suffer me to go and see who this enemy is, that comes thus to attack you, in your very capital, without having first declared war.” The king begged he would, and he instantly set out with very few attendants.