Khacan readily consented to this stratagem.  Accordingly, when Noor ad Deen came at the usual hour, before the door was opened, he placed himself behind it:  as soon as he entered, he rushed suddenly upon him, and got him down under his feet.  Noor ad Deen, lifting up his head, saw his father with a dagger in his hand, ready to stab him.

At that instant his mother arrived, and catching hold of the vizier’s arm, cried, “Sir, what are you doing?” “Let me alone,” replied the vizier, “that I may kill this base, unworthy son.”  “You shall kill me first,” returned the mother; “never will I suffer you to imbue your hands in your own blood.”  Noor ad Deen improved this moment.  “My father,” cried he with tears in his eyes, “I implore your clemency and compassion; nor must you deny me pardon, since I ask it in his name before whom we must all appear at the last day.”

Khacan suffered the dagger to be taken out of his hand; and as soon as Noor ad Deen was released, he threw himself at his father’s feet and kissed them, to shew how sincerely he repented of having offended him.  “Son,” said the vizier, “return thanks to your mother, since it is for her sake I pardon you.  I propose also to give you the fair Persian, on condition that you will bind yourself by an oath not to regard her any longer as a slave, but as your wife; that you will not sell her, nor ever be divorced from her.  As she possesses an excellent understanding, and abundantly more wit and prudence than yourself, I doubt not but that she will be able to moderate those rash sallies of youth, which are otherwise so likely to effect your ruin.”

Noor ad Deen, who little expected such indulgent treatment, returned his father a thousand thanks, and the fair Persian and he were well pleased with being united to each other.

The vizier Khacan, without waiting for the king’s inquiries about the success of the commission he had given him, took particular care to mention the subject often, representing to his majesty the many difficulties he met, and how fearful he was of not acquitting himself to his majesty’s satisfaction.  In short, he managed the business with so much address, that the king insensibly forgot it.  Though Saouy had gained some intimation of the transaction, yet Khacan was so much in the king’s favour, that he was afraid to divulge what he had heard.

This delicate affair had now been kept rather more than a year with greater secrecy than the vizier at first expected, when being one day in the bath, and some important business obliging him to leave it, warm as he was, the air, which was then cold, struck to his breast, caused a defluxion to fall upon his lungs, which threw him into a violent fever, and confined him to his bed.  His illness increasing every day, and perceiving he had not long to live, he thus addressed himself to his son, who never quitted him during the whole of his illness:  “My son,” said he, “I know not whether I have well employed the riches heaven has blessed me with, but you see they are not able to save me from the hands of death.  The last thing I desire of you with my dying breath is, that you would be mindful of the promise you made me concerning the fair Persian, and in this assurance I shall die content.”