One Thousand and One Nights

by Richard Burton

  When the caliph had seated himself, he looked round him, and beheld with great satisfaction the garden illuminated with many other lights, besides those flambeaux which the young eunuchs held; but taking notice that the saloon was shut, expressed his surprise, and demanded the reason. It was done on purpose to surprise him; for he had no sooner spoken, than all the windows flew open at once, and he saw it illuminated within and without, in a much better manner than ever he had beheld it before. “Charming Schemselnihar,” cried he, at this sight, “I understand you; you would have me know there are as fine nights as days. After what I have seen, I cannot deny this.”

  Let us return to the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher, whom we left in the gallery. Ebn Thaher could not enough admire all that he saw: “I am not young,” said he, “and I have seen great entertainments in my time; but I do not think any thing can be seen so surprising and magnificent! All that is said of enchanted palaces does not come up to the prodigious spectacle we now behold. What riches and magnificence united!”

  The prince of Persia was not at all interested by the objects which so delighted Ebn Thaher; he could look on nothing but Schemselnihar, and the presence of the caliph threw him into inconceivable grief. “Dear Ebn Thaher,” he exclaimed, “would to God I had my mind as much at liberty to attend to those objects of admiration as you! But alas! I am in a quite different situation, all these things serve only to increase my torment. Can I see the caliph familiar with the objets of my love, and not die of grief? Must so ardent a passion as mine be disturbed with so potent a rival? O heavens! How cruel and strange is my destiny! It is but a moment since I esteemed myself the most fortunate lover in the world, and at this instant I feel a death stroke to my heart. I cannot resist it, my dear Ebn Thaher; my patience is exhausted, my disorder overwhelms me, and my courage fails.” While he was speaking, he saw something pass in the garden, which obliged him to be silent and to turn all his attention that way.

  The caliph had ordered one of the women, who was near him, to play upon her lute, and she began to sing. The words she sung were very passionate, and the caliph, persuaded that she sung thus by order of Schemselnihar, who had frequently entertained him with the like testimonies of her affection, interpreted them in his own favour. But this was not now Schemselnihar’s meaning; she applied them to her dear Ali Ebn Becar, and was so sensibly touched with grief, to have before her an object whose presence she could no longer enjoy, that she fainted and fell backwards upon her seat, which having no arms to support her, she must have fallen, had not some of the women given her timely assistance, taken her up, and carried her into the saloon.

  Ebn Thaher, who was in the gallery, being surprised at this accident, turned towards the prince of Persia; but instead of finding him standing, and looking through the window as before, he was extremely amazed to discover him lying at his feet motionless. This convinced him of the violence of the prince’s passion for Schemselnihar, and he admired that strange effect of sympathy, which put him into a mortal fear on account of the place they were in. He did all he could to recover the prince, but in vain. Ebn Thaher was in this perplexity, when Schemselnihar’s confidant opened the gallery door, and entered out of breath, as one who knew not where she was. “Come speedily,” cried she “that I may let you out; all is in confusion here; and I fear this will be the last of our days.” “Alas! how would you have us go?” replied Ebn Thaher, with a mournful voice; “approach, and see what a condition the prince of Persia is in.” When the slave saw him in a swoon, she ran for water, and returned in an instant.

  At last the prince of Persia, after they had thrown water on his face, recovered. “Prince,” said Ebn Thaher to him, “we run the risk of perishing if we stay here any longer; exert yourself, therefore, let us endeavour to save our lives.” He was so feeble, that he could not rise alone; Ebn Thaher and the confidant lent him their hands, and supported him on each side. They reached a little iron gate which opened towards the Tigris, went out at it, and came to the side of a little canal which communicated with the river. The confidant clapped her hands, and immediately a little boat appeared, and came towards them with one rower. Ali Ebn Becar and his comrade went aboard, and the confidant remained at the side of the canal. As soon as the prince was seated in the boat, he stretched out one hand towards the palace, and laying the other on his heart, exclaimed with a feeble voice, “Dear object of my soul, receive my faith with this hand, while I assure you with the other, that my heart shall for ever preserve the fire with which it burns for you.”

  In the mean time the boatman rowed with all his might, and Schemselnihar’s confidant accompanied the prince of Persia and Ebn Thaher walking along the side of the canal, until they came to the Tigris, and when she could go no farther she took leave of them and returned.

  The prince of Persia continued very feeble. Ebn Thaher comforted him, and exhorted him to take courage. “Consider,” said he, “that when we are landed, we have a great way to walk before we reach my house, and I would not advise you to go to your palace, which is a great deal farther, at this hour and in this condition.” At last they went out of the boat, but the prince had so little strength that he could not walk, which put Ebn Thaher into great perplexity. He recollected he had a friend in the neighbourhood, and carried the prince thither with great difficulty. His friend received him very cheerfully, and when he had made them sit down, he asked them where they had been so late. Ebn Thaher answered, “I heard this evening that a man who owed me a considerable sum of money was setting out on a long voyage. I lost no time to find him, and by the way I met with this young nobleman, to whom I am under a thousand obligations; for knowing my debtor, he did me the favour to go along with me. We had a great deal of trouble to bring the man to reason. We have at length succeeded, and that is the cause of our being so late. In our return home, this good lord, to whom I am for ever bound to shew all possible respect, was attacked by a sudden illness, which made me take the liberty to knock at your door, flattering myself that you would be pleased to lodge us this night.”

  Ebn Thaher’s friend took all this for truth, told them they were welcome, and offered the prince of Persia, whom he knew not, all the assistance he could desire; but Ebn Thaher spoke for the prince, and said, that his distemper was of such a nature as to require nothing but rest. His friend understood by this that they desired to go to bed. Upon which he conducted them to an apartment, where he left them.

  Though the prince of Persia slept, he was interrupted by troublesome dreams, which represented Schemselnihar in a swoon at the caliph’s feet, and increased his affliction. Ebn Thaher was very impatient to be at home, and doubted not but his family was under great apprehension, because he never used to sleep out. He arose and departed early in the morning, after he had taken leave of his friend, who rose at break of day to prayers At last he reached his house, and the first thing the prince of Persia did, who had walked so far with much trouble, was to lie down upon a sofa, as weary as if he had been a long journey. Not being in a state to go to his own palace, Ebn Thaher ordered a chamber to be prepared for him, and sent to acquaint his friends with his condition, and where he was. In the mean time he begged him to compose himself, to command in his house, and to dispose of all things as he pleased. “I thank you heartily for your obliging offers,” said the prince; “but that I may not be any ways troublesome to you, I conjure you to deal with me as if I were not at your house. I would not stay one moment, if I thought my presence would incommode you in the least.”

  As soon as Ebn Thaher had time to recollect himself, he told his family all that had passed at Schemselnihar’s palace, and concluded by thanking God, who had delivered him from the danger he had been in. The prince of Persia’s principal domestics came to receive his orders at Ebn Thaher’s house, and in a little time there arrived several of his friends, who had notice of his indisposition. Those friends passed the greatest part of the day with him; and though their conversation could not extinguish those melancholy ideas which
were the cause of his trouble, yet it afforded him some relief. He would have taken his leave of Ebn Thaher towards the evening; but this faithful friend found him still so weak, that he obliged him to stay till next day, and in the mean time, to divert him, gave a concert of vocal and instrumental music in the evening; but this concert served only to remind him of the preceding night, and renewed his trouble, instead of assuaging it; so that next day his distemper seemed to increase. Upon this Ebn Thaher did not oppose his going home, but took care to accompany him; and when he was with him alone in his chamber, he represented to him all those arguments which might influence him to a generous effort to overcome his passion, which in the end would neither prove fortunate to himself nor to the favourite. “Ah! dear Ebn Thaher,” exclaimed the prince, “how easy is it for you to give this advice, but how hard for me to follow it! I am sensible of its importance, but am not able to profit by it. I have said already, that I shall carry to the grave the love I bear to Schemselnihar.” When Ebn Thaher saw that he could gain nothing upon the prince, he took his leave, and would have retired.

  The prince of Persia interrupted him, and said, “Kind Ebn Thaher, since I have declared to you that it is not in my power to follow your wise counsels, I beg you would not charge it on me as a crime, nor forbear to give me the usual testimonies of your friendship. You cannot do me a greater favour than to inform me of the destiny of my dear Schemselnihar, when you hear of her. The uncertainty I am in concerning her fate, and the apprehensions her fainting have occasioned in me, keep me in this languishing condition you reproach me with.” “My lord,” answered Ebn Thaher, “you have reason to hope that her fainting was not attended with any bad consequences: her confidant will quickly come and inform me of the issue; and as soon as I know the particulars, I will not fail to impart them.”

  Ebn Thaher left the prince in this hope, and returned home, where he expected Schemselnihar’s confidant all the rest of the day, but in vain, nor did she come on the following. His uneasiness to know the state of the prince of Persia’s health would not suffer him to wait any longer without seeing him. He went to his palace to exhort him to patience, and found him lying on his bed as ill as ever, surrounded by a great many of his friends, and several physicians, who used all their art to discover the cause of his disorder. As soon as he saw Ebn Thaher, he looked at him with a smile, to signify that he had two things to tell him; the one, that he was glad to see him; the other how much the physicians, who could not discover the cause of his illness, were out in their reasonings.

  His friends and physicians retired one after another, so that Ebn Thaher being alone with him, approached his bed to ask him how he had been since he had last seen him. “I must tell you,” answered the prince, “that my passion, which continually gathers new strength, and the uncertainty of the lovely Schemselnihar’s fate, augment my disorder every moment, and cast me into such a state as afflicts my kindred and friends, and breaks the measures of my physicians, who do not understand it. You cannot think,” he added, “how much I suffer by seeing so many people about me, who importune me, and whom I cannot in civility put away. Your company alone relieves me; but I conjure you not to dissemble with me: what news do you bring of Schemselnihar? Have you seen her confidant? What says she to you?” Ebn Thaher answered, that he had not seen her yet. No sooner had he communicated to the prince of Persia this sad intelligence, than the tears came into his eyes; he could not answer one word, his heart was so oppressed. “Prince,” added Ebn Thaher, “suffer me to tell you, that you are too ingenious in tormenting yourself. In the name of God, wipe away your tears: if any of your people should come in, they would discover you by this, notwithstanding the care you ought to take to conceal your thoughts.” Whatever his judicious adviser could say, it was not possible for the prince to refrain from weeping. “Wise Ebn Thaher,” said he, when he had recovered his speech, “I may indeed hinder my tongue from revealing the secrets of my heart, but I have no power over my tears, upon such an alarming subject as Schemselnihar’s danger. If that adorable and only objets of my desires be no longer in the world, I shall not survive her a moment.” “Reject so afflicting a thought,” replied Ebn Thaher; “Schemselnihar is yet alive, you need not doubt it: if you have heard no news of her, it is because she could find no opportunity to send to you, and I hope you will hear from her to-day.” To this he added several other consoling arguments, and then withdrew.

  Ebn Thaher had scarcely reached his own house, when Schemselnihar’s confidant arrived with a melancholy countenance, which he reckoned a bad omen. He asked news of her mistress. “Tell me yours first,” said the confidant, “for I was in great trouble to see the prince of Persia go away in that condition.” Ebn Thaher told her all that she wished to know, and when he had done, the slave began thus: “If the prince of Persia has suffered, and does still suffer for my mistress, she suffers no less for him. After I departed from you, I returned to the saloon, where I found Schemselnihar not yet recovered from her swoon, notwithstanding all the assistance they endeavoured to give her. The caliph was sitting near her with all the signs of real grief. He asked all the women, and me in particular, if we knew the cause of her disorder; but we kept all secret, and told him we were altogether ignorant of it. In the mean time we all wept to see her suffer so long, and forgot nothing that might any ways relieve her. In a word, it was almost midnight before she came to herself. The caliph, who had the patience to wait the event, was rejoiced at her recovery, and asked Schemselnihar the cause of her illness. As soon as she heard him speak, she endeavoured to recover her seat; and after she had kissed his feet, before he could hinder her, ‘Sir,’ said she, ‘I have reason to complain of heaven, that it did not allow me to expire at your majesty’s feet to testify thereby how sensible I am of your favours.’

  “‘I am persuaded you love me,’ replied the caliph, ‘and I command you to preserve yourself for my sake. You have probably exceeded in something to-day, which has occasioned this indisposition; take care, I entreat you; abstain from it for the future. I am glad to see you better, and advise you to stay here to-night, and not return to your chamber, for fear the motion should affect you.’ He then commanded a little wine to be brought to strengthen her; and taking leave of her, returned to his apartment.

  “As soon as the caliph had departed, my mistress gave me a sign to come near her. She asked me earnestly concerning you: I assured her that you had been gone a long time, which made her easy on that head. I took care not to speak of the prince of Persia’s fainting, lest she should fall into the same state, from which we had so much trouble to recover her: but my precautions were in vain, as you shall hear. ‘Prince,’ exclaimed she, ‘I henceforth renounce all pleasure as long as I am deprived of the sight of you. If I have understood your heart right, I only follow your example. You will not cease to weep and mourn until I see you.’ At these words, which she uttered in a manner expressive of the violence of her passion, she fainted a second time in my arms.

  “My companions and I were a long time recovering her; at last she came to herself; and then I said to her, ‘Madam, are you resolved to kill yourself, and to make us also die with you? I entreat you, in the name of the prince of Persia, who is so deeply interested in your life, to preserve it.’ ‘I am much obliged to you,’ replied she, ‘for your care, your zeal, and your advice; but alas! they are useless to me: you are not to flatter us with any hopes, for we can expect no end of our torment but in the grave.’

  “One of my companions would have diverted these sad thoughts by playing on the lute, but she commanded her to be silent, and ordered all of them to retire, except me, whom she kept all night with her. O heavens! what a night it was! she passed it in tears and groans, and incessantly naming the prince of Persia. She lamented her lot, that had destined her to the caliph, whom she could not love, and not for him whom she loved so dearly.

  “Next morning, as she was not commodiously lodged in the saloon, I helped her to her chamber, which she had no sooner reached
, than all the physicians of the palace came to see her, by order of the caliph, who was not long before he arrived himself. The medicines which the physicians prescribed to Schemselnihar were ineffectual, because they were ignorant of the cause of her malady, which was augmented by the presence of the caliph. She got a little rest however this night, and as soon as she awoke, she charged me to come to you, to learn some news of the prince of Persia.” “I have already informed you of his case,” said Ebn Thaher; “so return to your mistress, and assure her, that the prince of Persia waits for some account of her with an impatience equal to her own. Above all, exhort her to moderation, and to overcome her feelings, for fear she should drop before the caliph some word, which may prove fatal to us all.” “As for me,” replied the confidant, “I confess I dread her transports. I have taken the liberty to tell her my mind, and am persuaded that she will not take it ill that I tell her this from you.”

  Ebn Thaher, who had but just come from the prince of Persia’s lodgings, thought it not convenient to return so soon, and neglect his own important affairs; he therefore went not till the evening. The prince was alone, and no better than in the morning. “Ebn Thaher,” said he to him, as soon as he saw him, “you have doubtless many friends, but they do not know your worth, which you discover to me by your zeal, your care, and the trouble you give yourself to oblige me. I am confounded with all that you do for me with so much affection, and I know not how I shall be able to express my gratitude.” “Prince,” answered Ebn Thaher, “do not speak thus, I entreat you. I am ready, not only to give one of my eyes to save one of yours, but to sacrifice my life for you. But this is not the present business. I come to tell you that Schemselnihar sent her confidant to ask me about you, and at the same time to inform me of her condition. You may assure yourself that I said nothing but what might confirm the excess of your passion for her mistress, and the constancy with which you love her.” Then Ebn Thaher gave him a particular account of all that had passed betwixt the trusty slave and him. The prince listened with all the different emotions of fear, jealousy, affection, and compassion, which this conversation could inspire, making, upon every thing which he heard, all the afflicting or comforting reflections that so passionate a lover was capable of.