When he came to this part of the narrative, the young king could not restrain his tears; and the sultan was himself so affected by the relation, that he could not find utterance for any words of consolation.  Shortly after, the young king, lifting up his eyes to heaven, exclaimed, “Mighty creator of all things, I submit myself to thy judgments, and to the decrees of thy providence:  I endure my calamities with patience, since it is thy will things should be as they are; but I hope thy infinite goodness will ultimately reward me.”

The sultan, greatly moved by the recital of this affecting story, and anxious to avenge the sufferings of the unfortunate prince, said to him, “Inform me whither this perfidious sorceress retires, and where may be found her vile paramour, who is entombed before his death.”  “My lord,” replied the prince, “her lover, as I have already told you, is lodged in the Palace of Tears, in a superb tomb constructed in the form of a dome:  this palace joins the castle on the side in which the gate is placed.  As to the queen, I cannot tell you precisely whither she retires, but every day at sun-rise she goes to visit her paramour, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me; and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself.  She carries to him the potion with which she had hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never having spoken to her since he was wounded.”

“Prince,” said the sultan, “your condition can never be sufficiently deplored:  no one can be more sensibly affected by your misfortunes than I am.  Never did any thing so extraordinary befall any man, and those who write your history will have the advantage of relating what surpasses all that has hitherto been recorded.  One thing only is wanting; the revenge to which you are entitled, and I will omit nothing in my power to effect it.”

In his subsequent conversation with the young prince, the sultan told him who he was, and for what purpose he had entered the castle; and afterwards informed him of a mode of revenge which he had devised.  They agreed upon the measures they were to take for accomplishing their design, but deferred the execution of it till the following day.  In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest; but the young prince passed the night as usual, without sleep, having never slept since he was enchanted, still indulging some hopes of being speedily delivered from his misery.

Next morning the sultan arose with the dawn, and prepared to execute his design, hiding his upper garment, which might encumber him; he then proceeded to the Palace of Tears.  He found it lighted up with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and perfumed by a delicious scent issuing from several censers of fine gold of admirable workmanship.  As soon as he perceived the bed where the black lay, he drew his cimeter, and without resistance deprived him of his wretched life, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well.  After this, he went and lay down in the black’s bed, placed his cimeter under the covering, and waited to complete his design.