The year expired, and, to the great regret of the sultan, prince Kummir al Zummaun gave not the least proof of having changed his sentiments.  One day, therefore, when there was a great council held, the prime vizier, the other viziers, the principal officers of the crown, and the generals of the army being present, the sultan thus addressed the prince:  “My son, it is now a long while since I expressed to you my earnest desire to see you married, and I imagined you would have had more complaisance for a father, who required nothing unreasonable of you, than to oppose him so long.  But after such a resistance on your part, which has almost worn out my patience, I have thought fit to propose the same thing once more to you in the presence of my council.  It is not merely to oblige a parent that you ought to have acceded to my wish, the well-being of my dominions requires your compliance, and this assembly join with me in expecting it:  declare yourself, then; that your answer may regulate my proceedings.”

The prince answered with so little reserve, or rather with so much warmth, that the sultan, enraged to see himself thwarted by him in full council, exclaimed, “How, unnatural son! have you the insolence to talk thus to your father and sultan?” He ordered the guards to take him away, and carry him to an old tower that had been long unoccupied; where he was shut up, with only a bed, a little furniture, some books, and one slave to attend him.

Kummir al Zummaun, thus deprived of liberty, was nevertheless pleased that he had the freedom to converse with his books, which made him regard his confinement with indifference.  In the evening he bathed and said his prayers; and after having read some chapters in the Koraun, with the same tranquillity of mind as if he had been in the sultan’s palace, he undressed himself and went to bed, leaving his lamp burning by him while he slept.

In this tower was a well, which served in the daytime for a retreat to a certain fairy, named Maimoune, daughter of Damriat, king or head of a legion of genies.  It was about midnight when Maimoune sprung lightly to the mouth of the well, to wander about the world after her wonted custom, where her curiosity led her.  She was surprised to see a light in the prince’s chamber.  She entered, and without stopping at the slave who lay at the door, approached the bed.

The prince had but half covered his face with the bed-clothes, which Maimoune lifted up, and perceived the finest young man she had ever seen in her rambles through the world.  “What beauty, or rather what prodigy of beauty,” said she within herself, “must this youth appear, when the eyes, concealed by such well-formed eyelids, shall be open?  What crime can he have committed, that a man of his high rank can deserve to be treated thus rigorously?” for she had already heard his story, and could hardly believe it.