They then embraced, and bade each other a last adieu with so much tenderness, that it was a long time before they could leave one another’s arms.  Prince Assad was the first who prepared himself for the fatal stroke.  “Begin with me,” said he “that I may not have the affliction to see my dear brother Amgiad die.”  To this Amgiad objected; and Jehaun-dar could not, without weeping more than before, be witness of this dispute between them; which shewed how perfect and sincere was their affection.

At last they determined the contest, by desiring Jehaun-dar to tie them together, and put them in the most convenient posture for him to give them the fatal stroke at one blow.  “Do not refuse the comfort of dying together to two unfortunate brothers, who from their birth have shared every thing, even their innocence,” said the generous princes.

Jehaun-dar granted their request; he tied them to each other, breast to breast; and when he had placed them so that he thought he might strike the blow with more certainty, asked them if they had any thing to command him before they died.

“We have only one thing to desire of you,” replied the princes, “which is, to assure the king our father on your return, that we are innocent; but that we do not charge him with our deaths, knowing he is not well informed of the truth of the crime of which we are accused.”

Jehaun-dar promised to do what they desired and drew his sabre, when his horse, being tied to a tree just by, started at the sight of the sabre, which glittered against the sun, broke his bridle, and ran away into the country.

He was a very valuable horse, and so richly caparisoned, that the emir could not bear the loss of him.  This accident so vexed him, that instead of beheading the two princes, he threw away his sabre, and ran after his horse.

The horse galloped on before him, and led him several miles into a wood.  Jehaun-dar followed him, and the horse’s neighing roused a lion that was asleep.  The lion started up, and instead of running after the horse, made directly towards Jehaun-dar, who thought no more of his horse, but how to save his life.  He ran into the thickest of the wood, the lion keeping him in view, pursuing him among the trees.  In this extremity he said to himself, “Heaven had not punished me in this manner, but to shew the innocence of the princes whom I was commanded to put to death; and now, to my misfortune, I have not my sabre to defend myself.”

While Jehaun-dar was gone, the two princes were seized with a violent thirst, occasioned by the fear of death, notwithstanding their noble resolution to submit to the king their father’s cruel order.

Prince Amgiad told the prince his brother there was a spring not far off.  “Ah! brother,” said Assad, “we have so little time to live, what need have we to quench our thirst?  We can bear it a few minutes longer.”