him, if her son the prince had not given him in charge something more particular in his last moments?  He assured her his last words were, that it was to him the most afflicting circumstance that he must die so far distant from his dear mother, and that the only thing he wished was, that she would have his corpse transported to Bagdad.  Accordingly early next morning the princess set out with her women and great part of her slaves, to bring her son’s body to her own palace.

When the jeweller, whom she had detained, had seen her depart, he returned home very sad and melancholy, at the reflection that so accomplished and amiable a prince was thus cut off in the flower of his age.

As he walked towards his house, dejected and musing, he saw a woman standing before him.  He recognized her to be Schemselnihar’s confidant.  At the sight of her, his tears began to flow afresh but he said nothing to her; and going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down; when the jeweller beginning the conversation, asked the confidant, with a deep sigh, if she had heard of the death of the prince of Persia, and if it was on his account that she grieved.  “Alas!” answered she, “What! is that charming prince then dead?  He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar.  Beauteous souls,” continued she, “in whatsoever place ye now are, ye must be happy that your loves will no more be interrupted.  Your bodies were an obstacle to your wishes; but Heaven has delivered you from them; ye may now form the closest union.”

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar’s death, and had not reflected that the confidant was in mourning, suffered fresh grief at this intelligence.  “Is Schemselnihar then dead?” cried he.  “She is,” replied the confidant, weeping afresh, “and it is for her I wear these weeds.  The circumstances of her death were extraordinary,” continued she, “and deserve to be known to you:  but before I give you an account of them, I beg you to acquaint me with those of the prince of Persia, whom, with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.”

The jeweller then gave the confidant the information she desired; and after he had told her all, even to the departure of the prince’s mother to bring her son’s body to Bagdad, she began and said, “You have not forgotten that I told you the caliph had sent for Schemselnihar to his palace.  He had, as we had every reason to believe, been informed of the amour betwixt her and the prince by the two slaves, whom he had examined apart.  You may imagine, he would be exceedingly enraged at Schemselnihar’s conduct, and give striking proofs of his jealousy and of his impending vengeance against the prince.  But this was by no means the case.  He pitied Schemselnihar, and in some measure blamed himself for what had happened, in giving her so much freedom to walk about the city without being attended by his eunuchs.  This is the only conclusion that could be drawn from his extraordinary behavior towards her, as you will hear.