“Sire,” replied the vizier Saouy, “I am infinitely obliged to your majesty for the justice you do me; but since Noor ad Deen has publicly affronted me, I humbly beg the favour, that his execution may be performed before the palace; and that the criers may publish it in every quarter of the city, so that every body may be satisfied he has made a sufficient reparation for the affront.”  The king granted his request; and the criers in performing their office diffused universal sorrow through the whole city.  The memory of his father’s virtues being yet fresh among them, no one could hear, without horror and indignation, that the son was going to suffer an ignominious death.

Saouy went in person to the prison, accompanied by twenty slaves, ministers of his cruelty, who took Noor ad Deen out of the dungeon, and put him upon a shabby horse without a saddle.  When Noor ad Deen saw himself in the hands of his enemy, “Thou triumphest now,” said he, “and abusest thy power; but I trust in the truth of what is written in our scripture, ‘You judge unjustly, and in a little time you shall be judged yourself.’” The vizier Saouy triumphed in his heart.  “What! insolent,” said he, “darest thou insult me yet? but I care not what may happen to me, so I have the pleasure of seeing thee lose thy head in the public view of all Bussorah.  Thou oughtest also to remember what another of our books says, ‘What signifies if one dies the next day after the death of his enemy?’”

The vizier, implacable in his hatred and enmity, surrounded by his slaves in arms, conducted Noor ad Deen towards the palace.  The people were ready to fall upon him as he passed; and if any one had set the example, would certainly have stoned him to death.  When he had brought him to the place of suffering, which was to be in sight of the king’s apartment, he left him in the executioner’s hands, and went straight to the king, who was in his closet, ready to glut his eyes with the bloody spectacle he had prepared.

The king’s guard and the vizier’s slaves, who made a circle round Noor ad Deen, had much trouble to withstand the people, who made all possible efforts to break through, and carry him off by force.  The executioner coming up to him, said, “I hope you will forgive me, I am but a slave, and cannot help doing my duty.  If you have no occasion for any thing more, I beseech you to prepare yourself; for the king is just going to give me orders to strike the blow.”

The unfortunate Noor ad Deen, at that moment, looking round upon the people, “Will no charitable body,” cried he, “bring me a little water to quench my thirst?” Which immediately they did, and handed it up to him upon the scaffold.  The vizier Saouy perceiving this delay, called out to the executioner from the king’s closet window, where he had planted himself, “Strike, what dost thou stay for?” At these inhuman words the whole place echoed with loud imprecations against him; and the king, jealous of his authority, made it appear, by