Behram had furnished Assad with pen, ink, and paper, as a token of his office, that the queen might take him for what he designed she should.

The prince stepped a little aside, and wrote as follows, suitable to his miserable circumstances.

The blind man avoids the ditch into which the clear-sighted falls.  Fools advance themselves to honours by discourses which signify nothing; while men of sense and eloquence live in poverty and contempt.  The Mussulman, with all his riches, is miserable.  The infidel triumphs, and we cannot hope things will be otherwise; the Almighty has decreed it should be so, and his will is not to be altered.

Assad presented the paper to queen Margiana, who admired alike the sententiousness of the thoughts, and the goodness of the writing.  She needed no more to have her heart set on fire, and to feel a sincere concern for his misfortunes.  She had no sooner read it, than she addressed herself to Behram, saying, Do which you will; either sell me this slave, or make a present of him to me:  perhaps it will turn most to your account to do the latter.

Behram answered insolently, that he could neither give nor sell him; that he wanted his slave, and would keep him.

Queen Margiana, provoked at his boldness, would not talk to him about it any more.  She took the prince by the arm, and turned him before her into the palace; sending Behram word, that if he staid a night in her port, she would confiscate his goods, and burn his ship.  So he was forced to go back to his vessel, and prepare to put to sea again, notwithstanding the tempest was not yet subsided.

Queen Margiana commanded supper to be got ready; and, while it was providing, she ordered Assad to be brought into her apartment, where she bade him sit down.  Assad would have excused himself:  It does not belong to a slave, said he, to presume to this honour.

To a slave! replied the queen; you shall not be so long:  henceforward you are no more a slave.  Sit down near me, and tell the story of your life; for, by what you wrote, and the insolence of that slave merchant, I guess there is something extraordinary in it.

Prince Assad obeyed her; and, sitting down, began thus:  Mighty queen, your majesty is not mistaken in thinking there is something extraordinary in the story of my life; it is indeed more so than you can imagine.  The ills, the incredible torments, I have suffered, and the death to which I was devoted, and from which I am delivered by your generosity, will show, when I have related them, that my obligation to you is infinite.  But, before I enter into the particulars of my miseries, which will strike horror into the hearts of all who hear them related, to explain the occasion of them, I must trace the matter a little higher, and begin with the source of my misfortunes.

This preamble increased queen Margiana’s curiosity.

The prince then told her of his royal birth; of his brother Amgrad, and their mutual friendship; of their mother’s criminal passion, which in a night turned into inveterate hatred, the cause of all their sufferings; of the king’s rage; how miraculously they saved their lives; how he lost his brother; how he had been imprisoned, tortured, and was only sent there to be sacrificed on the Fiery Mountain.