“My friend, Damat Zade, expressed the warmest gratitude to me.  ’You formerly saved my fortune; you have now saved my life, and a life yet dearer than my own:  that of my daughter Fatima.’

“At the sound of that name I could not, I believe, avoid showing some emotion.  I had accidentally seen this lady, and I had been captivated by her beauty and by the sweetness of her countenance; but as I knew she was destined to be the wife of another, I suppressed my feeling, and determined to banish the recollection of the fair Fatima for ever from my imagination.  Her father, however, at this instant threw into my way a temptation which it required all my fortitude to resist.  ‘Saladin,’ continued he, ’it is but just that you, who have saved our lives, should share our festivity.  Come here on the birthday of my Fatima; I will place you in a balcony which overlooks the garden, and you shall see the whole spectacle.  We shall have a feast of tulips, in imitation of that which, as you know, is held in the grand seignior’s gardens.  I assure you the sight will be worth seeing; and besides, you will have a chance of beholding my Fatima, for a moment, without her veil.’

“‘That,’ interrupted I, ’is the thing I most wish to avoid.  I dare not indulge myself in a pleasure which might cost me the happiness of my life.  I will conceal nothing from you, who treat me with so much confidence.  I have already beheld the charming countenance of your Fatima, but I know that she is destined to be the wife of a happier man.’

“Damat Zade seemed much pleased by the frankness with which I explained myself; but he would not give up the idea of my sitting with him in the balcony on the day of the feast of tulips; and I, on my part, could not consent to expose myself to another view of the charming Fatima.  My friend used every argument, or rather every sort of persuasion, he could imagine to prevail upon me; he then tried to laugh me out of my resolution; and, when all failed, he said, in a voice of anger, ’Go, then, Saladin:  I am sure you are deceiving me; you have a passion for some other woman, and you would conceal it from me, and persuade me you refuse the favour I offer you from prudence, when, in fact, it is from indifference and contempt.  Why could you not speak the truth of your heart to me with that frankness with which one friend should treat another?’

“Astonished at this unexpected charge, and at the anger which flashed from the eyes of Damat Zade, who till this moment had always appeared to me a man of a mild and reasonable temper, I was for an instant tempted to fly into a passion and leave him; but friends, once lost, are not easily regained.  This consideration had power sufficient to make me command my temper.  ‘My friend,’ replied I, ’we will talk over this affair to-morrow.  You are now angry, and cannot do me justice, but to-morrow you will be cool; you will then be convinced that I have not deceived you, and that I have no design but to secure my own happiness, by the most prudent means in my power, by avoiding the sight of the dangerous Fatima.  I have no passion for any other woman.’