“Your plan,” said Sutlememe, “is a good one, if it can but be effected.  I have remarked that Nouronihar is well able to support the glances of the Caliph, and that he is far from being sparing of them to her; be assured, therefore, notwithstanding her fondness for Gulchenrouz, she will never remain quiet while she knows him to be here, unless we can persuade her that both herself and Gulchenrouz are really dead, and that they were conveyed to those rocks for a limited season to expiate the little faults of which their love was the cause; we will add that we killed ourselves in despair, and that your dwarfs, whom they never yet saw, will preach to them delectable sermons.  I will engage that everything shall succeed to the bent of your wishes.”

“Be it so!” said Fakreddin.  “I approve your proposal; let us lose not a moment to give it effect.”

They forthwith hastened to seek for the powder, which, being mixed in a sherbet, was immediately drank by Gulchenrouz and Nouronihar.  Within the space of an hour both were seized with violent palpitations, and a general numbness gradually ensued; they arose from the floor, where they had remained ever since the Caliph’s departure, and, ascending to the sofa, reclined themselves at full length upon it, clasped in each other’s embraces.

“Cherish me, my dear Nouronihar!” said Gulchenrouz; “put thy hand upon my heart, for it feels as if it were frozen.  Alas! thou art as cold as myself!  Hath the Caliph murdered us both with his terrible look?”

“I am dying!” cried she in a faltering voice; “press me closer; I am ready to expire!”

“Let us die then together,” answered the little Gulchenrouz, whilst his breast laboured with a convulsive sigh; “let me at least breathe forth my soul on thy lips!” They spoke no more, and became as dead.

Immediately the most piercing cries were heard through the harem, whilst Shaban and Sutlememe personated with great adroitness the parts of persons in despair.  The Emir, who was sufficiently mortified to be forced into such untoward expedients, and had now for the first time made a trial of his powder, was under no necessity of counterfeiting grief.  The slaves, who had flocked together from all quarters, stood motionless at the spectacle before them; all lights were extinguished save two lamps, which shed a wan glimmering over the faces of these lovely flowers, that seemed to be faded in the spring-time of life; funeral vestments were prepared, their bodies were washed with rose-water, their beautiful tresses were braided and incensed, and they were wrapped in simars whiter than alabaster.  At the moment that their attendants were placing two wreaths of their favourite jasmines on their brows, the Caliph, who had just heard of the tragical catastrophe, arrived; he looked not less pale and haggard than the Gouls, that wander at night among graves; forgetful of himself and every one else, he broke through the