On the fatal day that prince Bahman was transformed into a stone, as prince Perviz and the princess were talking together in the evening, as usual, the prince desired his sister to pull out the knife to know how their brother did.  The princess readily complied, and seeing the blood run down the point was seized with so much horror that she threw it down.  “Ah! my dear brother,” cried she, “I have been the cause of your death, and shall never see you more!  Why did I tell you of the speaking bird, singing tree, and yellow water; or rather, of what importance was it to me to know whether the devout woman thought this house ugly or handsome, or complete or not?  I wish to Heaven she had never addressed herself to me?  Deceitful hypocrite!” added she, “is this the return you have made for the kind reception I gave you?  Why did you tell me of a bird, a tree, and a water, which, imaginary as I am persuaded they are, by my dear brother’s death, yet disturb me by your enchantment?”

Prince Perviz was as much afflicted at the death of prince Bahman as the princess; but not to waste time in needless regret, as he knew that she still passionately desired possession of the speaking bird, the singing tree, and the golden water, he interrupted her, saying, “Sister, our regret for our brother is vain and useless; our grief and lamentations cannot restore him to life; it is the will of God, we must submit to it, and adore the decrees of the Almighty without searching into them.  Why should you now doubt of the truth of what the holy woman told you? do you think she spoke to you of three things that were not in being? and that she invented them on purpose to deceive you, who had given her no cause to do so, but received her with so much goodness and civility?  Let us rather believe that our brother’s death is owing to some error on his part, or some accident which we cannot conceive.  It ought not therefore to prevent us from pursuing our object.  I offered to go this journey, and am now more resolved than ever; his example has no effect upon my resolution; to-morrow I will depart.”

The princess did all she could to dissuade prince Perviz, conjuring him not to expose her to the danger of losing two brothers; but he was obstinate, and all the remonstrances she could urge had no effeft upon him.  Before he went, that she might know what success he had, he left her a string of a hundred pearls, telling her, that if they would not run when she should count them upon the string, but remain fixed, that would be a certain sign he had undergone the same fate as his brother; but at the same time told her he hoped it would never happen, but that he should have the happiness to see her again to their mutual satisfaction.