Amiga CD32/Amiga CD32 1994 - Brilliant PD Games.iso/literature/50.arab.6

Text File | 1994-05-11 | 100KB | 2,496 lines

The Enchanted Horse


It was the Feast of the New Year, the oldest and
most splendid of all the feasts in the Kingdom of
Persia, and the day had been spent by the king in
the city of Schiraz, taking part in the
magnificent spectacles prepared by his subjects to
do honour to the festival.  The sun was setting,
and the monarch was about to give his court the
signal to retire, when suddenly an Indian appeared
before his throne, leading a horse richly
harnessed, and looking in every respect exactly
like a real one.

"Sire," said he, prostrating himself as he spoke,
"although I make my appearance so late before your
Highness, I can confidently assure you that none
of the wonders you have seen during the day can be
compared to this horse, if you will deign to cast
your eyes upon him."

"I see nothing in it," replied the king, "except a
clever imitation of a real one; and any skilled
workman might do as much."

"Sire," returned the Indian, "it is not of his
outward form that I would speak, but of the use
that I can make of him.  I have only to mount him,
and to wish myself in some special place, and no
matter how distant it may be, in a very few
moments I shall find myself there.  It is this,
Sire, that makes the horse so marvellous, and if
your Highness will allow me, you can prove it for
yourself."

The King of Persia, who was interested in every
thing out of the common, and had never before come
across a horse with such qualities, bade the
Indian mount tho animal, and show what he could
do.  In an instant the man had vaulted on his
back, and inquired where the monarch wished to
send him.

"Do you see that mountain?" asked the king,
pointing to a huge mass that towered into the sky
about three leagues from Schiraz; "go and bring me
the leaf of a palm that grows at the foot."

The words were hardly out of the king's mouth when
the Indian turned a screw placed in the horse's
neck, close to the saddle, and the animal bounded
like lightning up into the air, and was soon
beyond the sight even of the sharpest eyes.  In a
quarter of an hour the Indian was seen returning,
bearing in his hand the palm, and, guiding his
horse to the foot of the throne, he dismounted,
and laid the leaf before the king.

Now the monarch had no sooner proved the
astonishing speed of which the horse was capable
than he longed to possess it himself, and indeed,
so sure was he that the Indian would be quite
ready to sell it, that he looked upon it as his
own already.

"I never guessed from his mere outside how
valuable an animal he was," he remarked to the
Indian, "and I am grateful to you for having shown
me my error," said he.  "If you will sell it, name
your own price."

"Sire," replied the Indian, "I never doubted that
a sovereign so wise and accomplished as your
Highness would do justice to my horse, when he
once knew its power; and I even went so far as to
think it probable that you might wish to possess
it.  Greatly as I prize it, I will yield it up to
your Highness on one condition.  The horse was not
constructed by me, but it was given me by the
inventor, in exchange for my only daughter, who
made me take a solemn oath that I would never part
with it, except for some object of equal value."

"Name anything you like," cried the monarch,
interrupting him.  "My kingdom is large, and
filled with fair cities.  You have only to choose
which you would prefer, to become its ruler to the
end of your life."

"Sire," answered the Indian, to whom the proposal
did not seem nearly so generous as it appeared to
the king, "I am most grateful to your Highness for
your princely offer, and beseech you not to be
offended with me if I say that I can only deliver
up my horse in exchange for the hand of the
princess your daughter."

A shout of laughter burst from the courtiers as
they heard these words, and Prince Firouz Schah,
the heir apparent, was filled with anger at the
Indian's presumption.  The king, however, thought
that it would not cost him much to part from the
princess in order to gain such a delightful toy,
and while he was hesitating as to his answer the
prince broke in.

"Sire," he said, "it is not possible that you can
doubt for an instant what reply you should give to
such an insolent bargain.  Consider what you owe
to yourself, and to the blood of your ancestors."

"My son," replied the king, "you speak nobly, but
you do not realise either the value of the horse,
or the fact that if I reject the proposal of the
Indian, he will only make the same to some other
monarch, and I should be filled with despair at
the thought that anyone but myself should own this
Seventh Wonder of the World.  Of course I do not
say that I shall accept his conditions, and
perhaps he may be brought to reason, but meanwhile
I should like you to examine the horse, and, with
the owner's permission, to make trial of its
powers."

The Indian, who had overheard the king's speech,
thought that he saw in it signs of yielding to his
proposal, so he joyfully agreed to the monarch's
wishes, and came forward to help the prince to
mount the horse, and show him how to guide it:
but, before he had finished, the young man turned
the screw, and was soon out of sight.

They waited some time, expecting that every moment
he might be seen returning in the distance, but at
length the Indian grew frightened, and prostrating
himself before the throne, he said to the king,
"Sire, your Highness must have noticed that the
prince, in his impatience, did not allow me to
tell him what it was necessary to do in order to
return to the place from which he started.  I
implore you not to punish me for what was not my
fault, and not to visit on me any misfortune that
may occur."

"But why," cried the king in a burst of fear and
anger, "why did you not call him back when you saw
him disappearing?"

"Sire," replied the Indian, "the rapidity of his
movements took me so by surprise that he was out
of hearing before I recovered my speech.  But we
must hope that he will perceive and turn a second
screw, which will have the effect of bringing the
horse back to earth."

"But supposing he does!" answered the king, "what
is to hinder the horse from descending straight
into the sea, or dashing him to pieces on the
rocks?"

"Have no fears, your Highness," said the Indian;
"the horse has the gift of passing over seas, and
of carrying his rider wherever he wishes to go."

"Well, your head shall answer for it," returned
the monarch, "and if in three months he is not
safe back with me, or at any rate does not send me
news of his safety, your life shall pay the
penalty." So saying, he ordered his guards to
seize the Indian and throw him into prison.

Meanwhile, Prince Firouz Schah had gone gaily up
into the air, and for the space of an hour
continued to ascend higher and higher, till the
very mountains were not distinguishable from the
plains.  Then he began to think it was time to
come down, and took for granted that, in order to
do this, it was only needful to turn the screw the
reverse way; but, to his surprise and horror, he
found that, turn as he might, he did not make the
smallest impression.  He then remembered that he
had never waited to ask how he was to get back to
earth again, and understood the danger in which he
stood.  Luckily, he did not lose his head, and set
about examining the horse's neck with great care,
till at last, to his intense joy, he discovered a
tiny little peg, much smaller than the other,
close to the right ear.  This he turned, and found
him-self dropping to the earth, though more slowly
than he had left it.

It was now dark, and as the prince could see
nothing, he was obliged, not without some feeling
of disquiet, to allow the horse to direct his own
course, and midnight was already passed before
Prince Firouz Schah again touched the ground,
faint and weary from his long ride, and from the
fact that he had eaten nothing since early
morning.

The first thing he did on dismounting was to try
to find out where he was, and, as far as he could
discover in the thick darkness, he found himself
on the terraced roof of a huge palace, with a
balustrade of marble running round.  In one corner
of the terrace stood a small door, opening on to a
staircase which led down into the palace.

Some people might have hesitated before exploring
further, but not so the prince.  "I am doing no
harm," he said, "and whoever the owner may be, he
will not touch me when he sees I am unarmed," and
in dread of making a false step, he went
cautiously down the staircase.  On a landing, he
noticed an open door, beyond which was a faintly
lighted hall.

Before entering, the prince paused and listened,
but he heard nothing except the sound of men
snoring.  By the light of a lantern suspended from
the roof, he perceived a row of black guards
sleeping, each with a naked sword lying by him,
and he understood that the hall must form the
ante-room to the chamber of some queen or
princess.

Standing quite still, Prince Firouz Schah looked
about him, till his eyes grew accustomed to the
gloom, and he noticed a bright light shining
through a curtain in one corner.  He then made his
way softly towards it, and, drawing aside its
folds, passed into a magnificent chamber full of
sleeping women, all lying on low couches, except
one, who was on a sofa; and this one, he knew,
must be the princess.

Gently stealing up to the side of her bed he
looked at her, and saw that she was more beautiful
than any woman he had ever beheld.  But,
fascinated though he was, he was well aware of the
danger of his position, as one cry of surprise
would awake the guards, and cause his certain
death.

So sinking quietly on his knees, he took hold of
the sleeve of the princess and drew her arm
lightly towards him.  The princess opened her
eyes, and seeing before her a handsome
well-dressed man, she remained speechless with
astonishment.

This favourable moment was seized by the prince,
who bowing low while he knelt, thus addressed her:

"You behold, madame, a prince in distress, son to
the King of Persia, who, owing to an adventure so
strange that you will scarcely believe it, finds
himself here, a suppliant for your protection.
But yesterday, I was in my father's court, engaged
in the celebration of our most solemn festival;
to-day, I am in an unknown land, in danger of my
life."

Now the princess whose mercy Prince Firouz Schah
implored was the eldest daughter of the King of
Bengal, who was enjoying rest and change in the
palace her father had built her, at a little
distance from the capital.  She listened kindly to
what he had to say, and then answered:

"Prince, be not uneasy; hospitality and humanity
are practised as widely in Bengal as they are in
Persia.  The protection you ask will be given you
by all.  You have my word for it." And as the
prince was about to thank her for her goodness,
she added quickly, "However great may be my
curiosity to learn by what means you have
travelled here so speedily, I know that you must
be faint for want of food, so I shall give orders
to my women to take you to one of my chambers,
where you will be provided with supper, and left
to repose."

By this time the princess's attendants were all
awake, and listening to the conversation.  At a
sign from their mistress they rose, dressed
themselves hastily, and snatching up some of the
tapers which lighted the room, conducted the
prince to a large and lofty room, where two of the
number prepared his bed, and the rest went down to
the kitchen, from which they soon returned with
all sorts of dishes.  Then, showing him cupboards
filled with dresses and linen, they quitted the
room.

During their absence the Princess of Bengal, who
had been greatly struck by the beauty of the
prince, tried in vain to go to sleep again.  It
was of no use:  she felt broad awake, and when her
women entered the room, she inquired eagerly if
the prince had all he wanted, and what they
thought of him.

"Madame," they replied, "it is of course
impossible for us to tell what impression this
young man has made on you.  For ourselves, we
think you would be fortunate if the king your
father should allow you to marry anyone so
amiable.  Certainly there is no one in the Court
of Bengal who can be compared with him."

These flattering observations were by no means
displeasing to the princess, but as she did not
wish to betray her own feelings she merely said,
"You are all a set of chatterboxes; go back to
bed, and let me sleep."

When she dressed the following morning, her maids
noticed that, contrary to her usual habit, the
princess was very particular about her toilette,
and insisted on her hair being dressed two or
three times over.  "For," she said to herself, "if
my appearance was not displeasing to the prince
when he saw me in the condition I was, how much
more will he be struck with me when he beholds me
with all my charms."

Then she placed in her hair the largest and most
brilliant diamonds she could find, with a
necklace, bracelets and girdle, all of precious
stones.  And over her shoulders her ladies put a
robe of the richest stuff in all the Indies, that
no one was allowed to wear except members of the
royal family.  When she was fully dressed
according to her wishes, she sent to know if the
Prince of Persia was awake and ready to receive
her, as she desired to present herself before him.

When the princess's messenger entered his room,
Prince Firouz Schah was in the act of leaving it,
to inquire if he might be allowed to pay his
homage to her mistress:  but on hearing the
princess's wishes, he at once gave way.  "Her will
is my law," he said, "I am only here to obey her
orders."

In a few moments the princess herself appeared,
and after the usual compliments had passed between
them, the princess sat down on a sofa, and began
to explain to the prince her reasons for not
giving him an audience in her own apartments.
"Had I done so," she said, "we might have been
interrupted at any hour by the chief of the
eunuchs, who has the right to enter whenever it
pleases him, whereas this is forbidden ground.  I
am all impatience to learn the wonderful accident
which has procured the pleasure of your arrival,
and that is why I have come to you here, where no
one can intrude upon us.  Begin then, I entreat
you, without delay."

So the prince began at the beginning, and told all
the story of the festival of Nedrouz held yearly
in Persia, and of the splendid spectacles
celebrated in its honour.  But when he came to the
enchanted horse, the princess declared that she
could never have imagined anything half so
surprising.  "Well then," continued the prince,
"you can easily understand how the King my father,
who has a passion for all curious things, was
seized with a violent desire to possess this
horse, and asked the Indian what sum he would take
for it.

"The man's answer was absolutely absurd, as you
will agree, when I tell you that it was nothing
less than the hand of the princess my sister; but
though all the bystanders laughed and mocked, and
I was beside myself with rage, I saw to my despair
that my father could not make up his mind to treat
the insolent proposal as it deserved.  I tried to
argue with him, but in vain.  He only begged me to
examine the horse with a view (as I quite
understood) of making me more sensible of its
value."

"To please my father, I mounted the horse, and,
without waiting for any instructions from the
Indian, turned the peg as I had seen him do.  In
an instant I was soaring upwards, much quicker
than an arrow could fly, and I felt as if I must
be getting so near the sky that I should soon hit
my head against it!  I could see nothing beneath
me, and for some time was so confused that I did
not even know in what direction I was travelling.
At last, when it was growing dark, I found another
screw, and on turning it, the horse began slowly
to sink towards the earth.  I was forced to trust
to chance, and to see what fate had in store, and
it was already past midnight when I found myself
on the roof of this palace.  I crept down the
little staircase, and made directly for a light
which I perceived through an open door--I peeped
cautiously in, and saw, as you will guess, the
eunuchs lying asleep on the floor.  I knew the
risks I ran, but my need was so great that I paid
no attention to them, and stole safely past your
guards, to the curtain which concealed your
doorway.

"The rest, Princess, you know; and it only remains
for me to thank you for the kindness you have
shown me, and to assure you of my gratitude.  By
the law of nations, I am already your slave, and I
have only my heart, that is my own, to offer you.
But what am I saying?  My own?  Alas, madame, it
was yours from the first moment I beheld you!"

The air with which he said these words could have
left no doubt on the mind of the princess as to
the effect of her charms, and the blush which
mounted to her face only increased her beauty.

"Prince," returned she as soon as her confusion
permitted her to speak, "you have given me the
greatest pleasure, and I have followed you closely
in all your adventures, and though you are
positively sitting before me, I even trembled at
your danger in the upper regions of the air!  Let
me say what a debt I owe to the chance that has
led you to my house; you could have entered none
which would have given you a warmer welcome.  As
to your being a slave, of course that is merely a
joke, and my reception must itself have assured
you that you are as free here as at your father's
court.  As to your heart," continued she in tones
of encouragement, "I am quite sure that must have
been disposed of long ago, to some princess who is
well worthy of it, and I could not think of being
the cause of your unfaithfulness to her."

Prince Firouz Schah was about to protest that
there was no lady with any prior claims, but he
was stopped by the entrance of one of the
princess's attendants, who announced that dinner
was served, and, after all, neither was sorry for
the interruption.

Dinner was laid in a magnificent apartment, and
the table was covered with delicious fruits; while
during the repast richly dressed girls sang softly
and sweetly to stringed instruments.  After the
prince and princess had finished, they passed into
a small room hung with blue and gold, looking out
into a garden stocked with flowers and arbutus
trees, quite different from any that were to be
found in Persia.

"Princess," observed the young man, "till now I
had always believed that Persia could boast finer
palaces and more lovely gardens than any kingdom
upon earth.  But my eyes have been opened, and I
begin to perceive that, wherever there is a great
king he will surround himself with buildings
worthy of him."

"Prince," replied the Princess of Bengal, "I have
no idea what a Persian palace is like, so I am
unable to make comparisons.  I do not wish to
depreciate my own palace, but I can assure you
that it is very poor beside that of the King my
father, as you will agree when you have been there
to greet him, as I hope you will shortly do."

Now the princess hoped that, by bringing about a
meeting between the prince and her father, the
King would be so struck with the young man's
distinguished air and fine manners, that he would
offer him his daughter to wife.  But the reply of
the Prince of Persia to her suggestion was not
quite what she wished.

"Madame," he said, "by taking advantage of your
proposal to visit the palace of the King of
Bengal, I should satisfy not merely my curiosity,
but also the sentiments of respect with which I
regard him.  But, Princess, I am persuaded that
you will feel with me, that I cannot possibly
present myself before so great a sovereign without
the attendants suitable to my rank.  He would
think me an adventurer."

"If that is all," she answered, "you can get as
many attendants here as you please.  There are
plenty of Persian merchants, and as for money, my
treasury is always open to you.  Take what you
please."

Prince Firouz Schah guessed what prompted so much
kindness on the part of the princess, and was much
touched by it.  Still his passion, which increased
every moment, did not make him forget his duty.
So he replied without hesitation:

"I do not know, Princess, how to express my
gratitude for your obliging offer, which I would
accept at once if it were not for the recollection
of all the uneasiness the King my father must be
suffering on my account.  I should be unworthy
indeed of all the love he showers upon me, if I
did not return to him at the first possible
moment.  For, while I am enjoying the society of
the most amiable of all princesses, he is, I am
quite convinced, plunged in the deepest grief,
having lost all hope of seeing me again.  I am
sure you will understand my position, and will
feel that to remain away one instant longer than
is necessary would not only be ungrateful on my
part, but perhaps even a crime, for how do I know
if my absence may not break his heart?

"But," continued the prince, "having obeyed the
voice of my conscience, I shall count the moments
when, with your gracious permission, I may present
myself before the King of Bengal, not as a
wanderer, but as a prince, to implore the favour
of your hand.  My father has always informed me
that in my marriage I shall be left quite free,
but I am persuaded that I have only to describe
your generosity, for my wishes to become his own."

The Princess of Bengal was too reasonable not ta
accept the explanation offered by Prince Firouz
Schah, but she was much disturbed at his intention
of departing at once, for she feared that, no
sooner had he left her, than the impression she
had made on him would fade away.  So she made one
more effort to keep him, and after assuring him
that she entirely approved of his anxiety to see
his father, begged him to give her a day or two
more of his company.

In common politeness the prince could hardly
refuse this request, and the princess set about
inventing every kind of amusement for him, and
succeeded so well that two months slipped by
almost unnoticed, in balls, spectacles and in
hunting, of which, when unattended by danger, the
princess was passionately fond.  But at last, one
day, he declared seriously that he could neglect
his duty no longer, and entreated her to put no
further obstacles in his way, promising at the
same time to return, as soon as he could, with all
the magnificence due both to her and to himself.

"Princess," he added, "it may be that in your
heart you class me with those false lovers whose
devotion cannot stand the test of absence.  If you
do, you wrong me; and were it not for fear of
offending you, I would beseech you to come with
me, for my life can only be happy when passed with
you.  As for your reception at the Persian Court,
it will be as warm as your merits deserve; and as
for what concerns the King of Bengal, he must be
much more indifferent to your welfare than you
have led me to believe if he does not give his
consent to our marriage."

The princess could not find words in which to
reply to the arguments of the Prince of Persia,
but her silence and her downcast eyes spoke for
her, and declared that she had no objection to
accompanying him on his travels.

The only difficulty that occurred to her was that
Prince Firouz Schah did not know how to manage the
horse, and she dreaded lest they might find
themselves in the same plight as before.  But the
prince soothed her fears so successfully, that she
soon had no other thought than to arrange for
their flight so secretly, that no one in the
palace should suspect it.

This was done, and early the following morning,
when the whole palace was wrapped in sleep, she
stole up on to the roof, where the prince was
already awaiting her, with his horse's head
towards Persia.  He mounted first and helped the
princess up behind; then, when she was firmly
seated, with her hands holding tightly to his
belt, he touched the screw, and the horse began to
leave the earth quickly behind him.

He travelled with his accustomed speed, and Prince
Firouz Schah guided him so well that in two hours
and a half from the time of starting, he saw the
capital of Persia lying beneath him.  He
determined to alight neither in the great square
from which he had started, nor in the Sultan's
palace, but in a country house at a little
distance from the town.  Here he showed the
princess a beautiful suite of rooms, and begged
her to rest, while he informed his father of their
arrival, and prepared a public reception worthy of
her rank.  Then he ordered a horse to be saddled,
and set out.

All the way through the streets he was welcomed
with shouts of joy by the people, who had long
lost all hope of seeing him again.  On reaching
the palace, he found the Sultan surrounded by his
ministers, all clad in the deepest mourning, and
his father almost went out of his mind with
surprise and delight at the mere sound of his
son's voice.  When he had calmed down a little, he
begged the prince to relate his adventures.

The prince at once seized the opening thus given
him, and told the whole story of his treatment by
the Princess of Bengal, not even concealing the
fact that she had fallen in love with him.  "And,
Sire," ended the prince, "having given my royal
word that you would not refuse your consent to our
marriage, I persuaded her to return with me on the
Indian's horse.  I have left her in one of your
Highness's country houses, where she is waiting
anxiously to be assured that I have not promised
in vain."

As he said this the prince was about to throw
himself at the feet of the Sultan, but his father
prevented him, and embracing him again, said
eagerly:

"My son, not only do I gladly consent to your
marriage with the Princess of Bengal, but I will
hasten to pay my respects to her, and to thank her
in my own person for the benefits she has
conferred on you.  I will then bring her back with
me, and make all arrangements for the wedding to
be celebrated to-day."

So the Sultan gave orders that the habits of
mourning worn by the people should be thrown off
and that there should be a concert of drums,
trumpets and cymbals.  Also that the Indian should
be taken from prison, and brought before him.

His commands were obeyed, and the Indian was led
into his presence, surrounded by guards.  "I have
kept you locked up," said the Sultan, "so that in
case my son was lost, your life should pay the
penalty.  He has now returned; so take your horse,
and begone for ever."

The Indian hastily quitted the presence of the
Sultan, and when he was outside, he inquired of
the man who had taken him out of prison where the
prince had really been all this time, and what he
had been doing.  They told him the whole story,
and how the Princess of Bengal was even then
awaiting in the country palace the consent of the
Sultan, which at once put into the Indian's head a
plan of revenge for the treatment he had
experienced.  Going straight to the country house,
he informed the doorkeeper who was left in charge
that he had been sent by the Sultan and by the
Prince of Persia to fetch the princess on the
enchanted horse, and to bring her to the palace.

The doorkeeper knew the Indian by sight, and was
of course aware that nearly three months before he
had been thrown into prison by the Sultan; and
seeing him at liberty, the man took for granted
that he was speaking the truth, and made no
difficulty about leading him before the Princess
of Bengal; while on her side, hearing that he had
come from the prince, the lady gladly consented to
do what he wished.

The Indian, delighted with the success of his
scheme, mounted the horse, assisted the princess
to mount behind him, and turned the peg at the
very moment that the prince was leaving the palace
in Schiraz for the country house, followed closely
by the Sultan and all the court.  Knowing this,
the Indian deliberately steered the horse right
above the city, in order that his revenge for his
unjust imprisonment might be all the quicker and
sweeter.

When the Sultan of Persia saw the horse and its
riders, he stopped short with astonishment and
horror, and broke out into oaths and curses, which
the Indian heard quite unmoved, knowing that he
was perfectly safe from pursuit.  But mortified
and furious as the Sultan was, his feelings were
nothing to those of Prince Firouz Schah, when he
saw the object of his passionate devotion being
borne rapidly away.  And while he was struck
speechless with grief and remorse at not having
guarded her better, she vanished swiftly out of
his sight.  What was he to do?  Should he follow
his father into the palace, and there give reins
to his despair?  Both his love and his courage
alike forbade it; and he continued his way to the
palace.

The sight of the prince showed the doorkeeper of
what folly he had been guilty, and flinging
himself at his master's feet, implored his pardon.
"Rise," said the prince, "I am the cause of this
misfortune, and not you.  Go and find me the dress
of a dervish, but beware of saying it is for me."

At a short distance from the country house, a
convent of dervishes was situated, and the
superior, or scheih, was the doorkeeper's friend.
So by means of a false story made up on the spur
of the moment, it was easy enough to get hold of a
dervish's dress, which the prince at once put on,
instead of his own.  Disguised like this and
concealing about him a box of pearls and diamonds
he had intended as a present to the princess, he
left the house at nightfall, uncertain where he
should go, but firmly resolved not to return
without her.

Meanwhile the Indian had turned the horse in such
a direction that, before many hours had passed, it
had entered a wood close to the capital of the
kingdom of Cashmere.  Feeling very hungry, and
supposing that the princess also might be in want
of food, he brought his steed down to the earth,
and left the princess in a shady place, on the
banks of a clear stream.

At first, when the princess had found herself
alone, the idea had occurred to her of trying to
escape and hide herself.  But as she had eaten
scarcely anything since she had left Bengal, she
felt she was too weak to venture far, and was
obliged to abandon her design.  On the return of
the Indian with meats of various kinds, she began
to eat voraciously, and soon had regained
sufficient courage to reply with spirit to his
insolent remarks.  Goaded by his threats she
sprang to her feet, calling loudly for help, and
luckily her cries were heard by a troop of
horsemen, who rode up to inquire what was the
matter.

Now the leader of these horsemen was the Sultan of
Cashmere, returning from the chase, and he
instantly turned to the Indian to inquire who he
was, and whom he had with him.  The Indian rudely
answered that it was his wife, and there was no
occasion for anyone else to interfere between
them.

The princess, who, of course, was ignorant of the
rank of her deliverer, denied altogether the
Indian's story.  "My lord," she cried, "whoever
you may be, put no faith in this impostor.  He is
an abominable magician, who has this day torn me
from the Prince of Persia, my destined husband,
and has brought me here on this enchanted horse."
She would have continued, but her tears choked
her, and the Sultan of Cashmere, convinced by her
beauty and her distinguished air of the truth of
her tale, ordered his followers to cut off the
Indian's head, which was done immediately.

But rescued though she was from one peril, it
seemed as if she had only fallen into another.
The Sultan commanded a horse to be given her, and
conducted her to his own palace, where he led her
to a beautiful apartment, and selected female
slaves to wait on her, and eunuchs to be her
guard.  Then, without allowing her time to thank
him for all he had done, he bade her repose,
saying she should tell him her adventures on the
following day.

The princess fell asleep, flattering herself that
she had only to relate her story for the Sultan to
be touched by compassion, and to restore her to
the prince without delay.  But a few hours were to
undeceive her.

When the King of Cashmere had quitted her presence
the evening before, he had resolved that the sun
should not set again without the princess becoming
his wife, and at daybreak proclamation of his
intention was made throughout the town, by the
sound of drums, trumpets, cymbals, and other
instruments calculated to fill the heart with joy.
The Princess of Bengal was early awakened by the
noise, but she did not for one moment imagine that
it had anything to do with her, till the Sultan,
arriving as soon as she was dressed to inquire
after her health, informed her that the trumpet
blasts she heard were part of the solemn marriage
ceremonies, for which he begged her to prepare.
This unexpected announcement caused the princess
such terror that she sank down in a dead faint.

The slaves that were in waiting ran to her aid,
and the Sultan himself did his best to bring her
back to consciousness, but for a long while it was
all to no purpose.  At length her senses began
slowly to come back to her, and then, rather than
break faith with the Prince of Persia by
consenting to such a marriage, she determined to
feign madness.  So she began by saying all sorts
of absurdities, and using all kinds of strange
gestures, while the Sultan stood watching her with
sorrow and surprise.  But as this sudden seizure
showed no sign of abating, he left her to her
women, ordering them to take the greatest care of
her.  Still, as the day went on, the malady seemed
to become worse, and by night it was almost
violent.

Days passed in this manner, till at last the
Sultan of Cashmere decided to summon all the
doctors of his court to consult together over her
sad state.  Their answer was that madness is of so
many different kinds that it was impossible to
give an opinion on the case without seeing the
princess, so the Sultan gave orders that they were
to be introduced into her chamber, one by one,
every man according to his rank.

This decision had been foreseen by the princess,
who knew quite well that if once she allowed the
physicians to feel her pulse, the most ignorant of
them would discover that she was in perfectly good
health, and that her madness was feigned, so as
each man approached, she broke out into such
violent paroxysms, that not one dared to lay a
finger on her.  A few, who pretended to be
cleverer than the rest, declared that they could
diagnose sick people only from sight, ordered her
certain potions, which she made no difficulty
about taking, as she was persuaded they were all
harmless.

When the Sultan of Cashmere saw that the court
doctors could do nothing towards curing the
princess, he called in those of the city, who
fared no better.  Then he had recourse to the most
celebrated physicians in the other large towns,
but finding that the task was beyond their
science, he finally sent messengers into the other
neighbouring states, with a memorandum containing
full particulars of the princess's madness,
offering at the same time to pay the expenses of
any physician who would come and see for himself,
and a handsome reward to the one who should cure
her.  In answer to this proclamation many foreign
professors flocked into Cashmere, but they
naturally were not more successful than the rest
had been, as the cure depended neither on them nor
their skill, but only on the princess herself.

It was during this time that Prince Firouz Schah,
wandering sadly and hopelessly from place to
place, arrived in a large city of India, where he
heard a great deal of talk about the Princess of
Bengal who had gone out of her senses, on the very
day that she was to have been married to the
Sultan of Cashmere.  This was quite enough to
induce him to take the road to Cashmere, and to
inquire at the first inn at which he lodged in the
capital the full particulars of the story.  When
he knew that he had at last found the princess
whom he had so long lost, he set about devising a
plan for her rescue.

The first thing he did was to procure a doctor's
robe, so that his dress, added to the long beard
he had allowed to grow on his travels, might
unmistakably proclaim his profession.  He then
lost no time in going to the palace, where he
obtained an audience of the chief usher, and while
apologising for his boldness in presuming to think
that he could cure the princess, where so many
others had failed, declared that he had the secret
of certain remedies, which had hitherto never
failed of their effect.

The chief usher assured him that he was heartily
welcome, and that the Sultan would receive him
with pleasure; and in case of success, he would
gain a magnificent reward.

When the Prince of Persia, in the disguise of a
physician, was brought before him, the Sultan
wasted no time in talking, beyond remarking that
the mere sight of a doctor threw the princess into
transports of rage.  He then led the prince up to
a room under the roof, which had an opening
through which he might observe the princess,
without himself being seen.

The prince looked, and beheld the princess
reclining on a sofa with tears in her eyes,
singing softly to herself a song bewailing her sad
destiny, which had deprived her, perhaps for ever,
of a being she so tenderly loved.  The young man's
heart beat fast as he listened, for he needed no
further proof that her madness was feigned, and
that it was love of him which had caused her to
resort to this species of trick.  He softly left
his hiding-place, and returned to the Sultan, to
whom he reported that he was sure from certain
signs that the princess's malady was not
incurable, but that he must see her and speak with
her alone.

The Sultan made no difficulty in consenting to
this, and commanded that he should be ushered in
to the princess's apartment.  The moment she
caught sight of his physician's robe, she sprang
from her seat in a fury, and heaped insults upon
him.  The prince took no notice of her behaviour,
and approaching quite close, so that his words
might be heard by her alone, he said in a low
whisper, "Look at me, princess, and you will see
that I am no doctor, but the Prince of Persia, who
has come to set you free."

At the sound of his voice, the Princess of Bengal
suddenly grew calm, and an expression of joy
overspread her face, such as only comes when what
we wish for most and expect the least suddenly
happens to us.  For some time she was too
enchanted to speak, and Prince Firouz Schah took
advantage of her silence to explain to her all
that had occurred, his despair at watching her
disappear before his very eyes, the oath he had
sworn to follow her over the world, and his
rapture at finally discovering her in the palace
at Cashmere.  When he had finished, he begged in
his turn that the princess would tell him how she
had come there, so that he might the better devise
some means of rescuing her from the tyranny of the
Sultan.

It needed but a few words from the princess to
make him acquainted with the whole situation, and
how she had been forced to play the part of a mad
woman in order to escape from a marriage with the
Sultan, who had not had sufficient politeness even
to ask her consent.  If necessary, she added, she
had resolved to die sooner than permit herself to
be forced into such a union, and break faith with
a prince whom she loved.

The prince then inquired if she knew what had
become of the enchanted horse since the Indian's
death, but the princess could only reply that she
had heard nothing about it.  Still she did not
suppose that the horse could have been forgotten
by the Sultan, after all she had told him of its
value.

To this the prince agreed, and they consulted
together over a plan by which she might be able to
make her escape and return with him into Persia.
And as the first step, she was to dress herself
with care, and receive the Sultan with civility
when he visited her next morning.

The Sultan was transported with delight on
learning the result of the interview, and his
opinion of the doctor's skill was raised still
higher when, on the following day, the princess
behaved towards him in such a way as to persuade
him that her complete cure would not be long
delayed.  However he contented himself with
assuring her how happy he was to see her health so
much improved, and exhorted her to make every use
of so clever a physician, and to repose entire
confidence in him.  Then he retired, without
awaiting any reply from the princess.

The Prince of Persia left the room at the same
time, and asked if he might be allowed humbly to
inquire by what means the Princess of Bengal had
reached Cashmere, which was so far distant from
her father's kingdom, and how she came to be there
alone.  The Sultan thought the question very
natural, and told him the same story that the
Princess of Bengal had done, adding that he had
ordered the enchanted horse to be taken to his
treasury as a curiosity, though he was quite
ignorant how it could be used.

"Sire," replied the physician, "your Highness's
tale has supplied me with the clue I needed to
complete the recovery of the princess.  During her
voyage hither on an enchanted horse, a portion of
its enchantment has by some means been
communicated to her person, and it can only be
dissipated by certain perfumes of which I possess
the secret.  If your Highness will deign to
consent, and to give the court and the people one
of the most astonishing spectacles they have ever
witnessed, command the horse to be brought into
the big square outside the palace, and leave the
rest to me.  I promise that in a very few moments,
in presence of all the assembled multitude, you
shall see the princess as healthy both in mind and
body as ever she was in her life.  And in order to
make the spectacle as impressive as possible, I
would suggest that she should be richly dressed
and covered with the noblest jewels of the crown."

The Sultan readily agreed to all that the prince
proposed, and the following morning he desired
that the enchanted horse should be taken from the
treasury, and brought into the great square of the
palace.  Soon the rumour began to spread through
the town, that something extraordinary was about
to happen, and such a crowd began to collect that
the guards had to be called out to keep order, and
to make a way for the enchanted horse.

When all was ready, the Sultan appeared, and took
his place on a platform, surrounded by the chief
nobles and officers of his court.  When they were
seated, the Princess of Bengal was seen leaving
the palace, accompanied by the ladies who had been
assigned to her by the Sultan.  She slowly
approached the enchanted horse, and with the help
of her ladies, she mounted on its back.  Directly
she was in the saddle, with her feet in the
stirrups and the bridle in her hand, the physician
placed around the horse some large braziers full
of burning coals, into each of which he threw a
perfume composed of all sorts of delicious scents.
Then he crossed his hands over his breast, and
with lowered eyes walked three times round the
horse, muttering the while certain words.  Soon
there arose from the burning braziers a thick
smoke which almost concealed both the horse and
princess, and this was the moment for which he had
been waiting.  Springing lightly up behind the
lady, he leaned forward and turned the peg, and as
the horse darted up into the air, he cried aloud
so that his words were heard by all present,
"Sultan of Cashmere, when you wish to marry
princesses who have sought your protection, learn
first to gain their consent."

It was in this way that the Prince of Persia
rescued the Princess of Bengal, and returned with
her to Persia, where they descended this time
before the palace of the King himself.  The
marriage was only delayed just long enough to make
the ceremony as brilliant as possible, and, as
soon as the rejoicings were over, an ambassador
was sent to the King of Bengal, to inform him of
what had passed, and to ask his approbation of the
alliance between the two countries, which he
heartily gave.



The Story of Two Sisters Who Were Jealous of Their
Younger Sister


Once upon a time there reigned over Persia a
Sultan named Kosrouschah, who from his boyhood had
been fond of putting on a disguise and seeking
adventures in all parts of the city, accompanied
by one of his officers, disguised like himself.
And no sooner was his father buried and the
ceremonies over that marked his accession to the
throne, than the young man hastened to throw off
his robes of state, and calling to his vizir to
make ready likewise, stole out in the simple dress
of a private citizen into the less known streets
of the capital.

Passing down a lonely street, the Sultan heard
women's voices in loud discussion; and peeping
through a crack in the door, he saw three sisters,
sitting on a sofa in a large hall, talking in a
very lively and earnest manner.  Judging from the
few words that reached his ear, they were each
explaining what sort of men they wished to marry.

"I ask nothing better," cried the eldest, "than to
have the Sultan's baker for a husband.  Think of
being able to eat as much as one wanted, of that
delicious bread that is baked for his Highness
alone!  Let us see if your wish is as good as
mine."

"I," replied the second sister, "should be quite
content with the Sultan's head cook.  What
delicate stews I should feast upon!  And, as I am
persuaded that the Sultan's bread is used all
through the palace, I should have that into the
bargain.  You see, my dear sister, my taste is as
good as yours."

It was now the turn of the youngest sister, who
was by far the most beautiful of the three, and
had, besides, more sense than the other two.  "As
for me," she said, "I should take a higher flight;
and if we are to wish for husbands, nothing less
than the Sultan himself will do for me."

The Sultan was so much amused by the conversation
he had overheard, that he made up his mind to
gratify their wishes, and turning to the
grand-vizir, he bade him note the house, and on
the following morning to bring the ladies into his
presence.

The grand-vizir fulfilled his commission, and
hardly giving them time to change their dresses,
desired the three sisters to follow him to the
palace.  Here they were presented one by one, and
when they had bowed before the Sultan, the
sovereign abruptly put the question to them:

"Tell me, do you remember what you wished for last
night, when you were making merry?  Fear nothing,
but answer me the truth."

These words, which were so unexpected, threw the
sisters into great confusion, their eyes fell, and
the blushes of the youngest did not fail to make
an impression on the heart of the Sultan.  All
three remained silent, and he hastened to
continue:  "Do not be afraid, I have not the
slightest intention of giving you pain, and let me
tell you at once, that I know the wishes formed by
each one.  You," he said, turning to the youngest,
"who desired to have me for an husband, shall be
satisfied this very day.  And you," he added,
addressing himself to the other two, "shall be
married at the same moment to my baker and to my
chief cook."

When the Sultan had finished speaking the three
sisters flung themselves at his feet, and the
youngest faltered out, "Oh, sire, since you know
my foolish words, believe, I pray you, that they
were only said in joke.  I am unworthy of the
honour you propose to do me, and I can only ask
pardon for my boldness."

The other sisters also tried to excuse themselves,
but the Sultan would hear nothing.

"No, no," he said, "my mind is made up.  Your
wishes shall be accomplished."

So the three weddings were celebrated that same
day, but with a great difference.  That of the
youngest was marked by all the magnificence that
was customary at the marriage of the Shah of
Persia, while the festivities attending the
nuptials of the Sultan's baker and his chief cook
were only such as were suitable to their
conditions.

This, though quite natural, was highly displeasing
to the elder sisters, who fell into a passion of
jealousy, which in the end caused a great deal of
trouble and pain to several people.  And the first
time that they had the opportunity of speaking to
each other, which was not till several days later
at a public bath, they did not attempt to disguise
their feelings.

"Can you possibly understand what the Sultan saw
in that little cat," said one to the other, "for
him to be so fascinated by her?"

"He must be quite blind," returned the wife of the
chief cook.  "As for her looking a little younger
than we do, what does that matter?  You would have
made a far better Sultana than she."

"Oh, I say nothing of myself," replied the elder,
"and if the Sultan had chosen you it would have
been all very well; but it really grieves me that
he should have selected a wretched little creature
like that.  However, I will be revenged on her
somehow, and I beg you will give me your help in
the matter, and to tell me anything that you can
think of that is likely to mortify her."

In order to carry out their wicked scheme the two
sisters met constantly to talk over their ideas,
though all the while they pretended to be as
friendly as ever towards the Sultana, who, on her
part, invariably treated them with kindness.  For
a long time no plan occurred to the two plotters
that seemed in the least likely to meet with
success, but at length the expected birth of an
heir gave them the chance for which they had been
hoping.

They obtained permission of the Sultan to take up
their abode in the palace for some weeks, and
never left their sister night or day.  When at
last a little boy, beautiful as the sun, was born,
they laid him in his cradle and carried it down to
a canal which passed through the grounds of the
palace.  Then, leaving it to its fate, they
informed the Sultan that instead of the son he had
so fondly desired the Sultana had given birth to a
puppy.  At this dreadful news the Sultan was so
overcome with rage and grief that it was with
great difficulty that the grand-vizir managed to
save the Sultana from his wrath.

Meanwhile the cradle continued to float peacefully
along the canal till, on the outskirts of the
royal gardens, it was suddenly perceived by the
intendant, one of the highest and most respected
officials in the kingdom.

"Go," he said to a gardener who was working near,
"and get that cradle out for me."

The gardener did as he was bid, and soon placed
the cradle in the hands of the intendant.

The official was much astonished to see that the
cradle, which he had supposed to be empty,
contained a baby, which, young though it was,
already gave promise of great beauty.  Having no
children himself, although he had been married
some years, it at once occurred to him that here
was a child which he could take and bring up as
his own.  And, bidding the man pick up the cradle
and follow him, he turned towards home.

"My wife," he exclaimed as he entered the room,
"heaven has denied us any children, but here is
one that has been sent in their place.  Send for a
nurse, and I will do what is needful publicly to
recognise it as my son."

The wife accepted the baby with joy, and though
the intendant saw quite well that it must have
come from the royal palace, he did not think it
was his business to inquire further into the
mystery.

The following year another prince was born and
sent adrift, but happily for the baby, the
intendant of the gardens again was walking by the
canal, and carried it home as before.

The Sultan, naturally enough, was still more
furious the second time than the first, but when
the same curious accident was repeated in the
third year he could control himself no longer,
and, to the great joy of the jealous sisters,
commanded that the Sultana should be executed.
But the poor lady was so much beloved at Court
that not even the dread of sharing her fate could
prevent the grand-vizir and the courtiers from
throwing themselves at the Sultan's feet and
imploring him not to inflict so cruel a punishment
for what, after all, was not her fault.

"Let her live," entreated the grand-vizir, "and
banish her from your presence for the rest of her
days.  That in itself will be punishment enough."

His first passion spent, the Sultan had regained
his self-command.  "Let her live then," he said,
"since you have it so much at heart.  But if I
grant her life it shall only be on one condition,
which shall make her daily pray for death.  Let a
box be built for her at the door of the principal
mosque, and let the window of the box be always
open.  There she shall sit, in the coarsest
clothes, and every Mussulman who enters the mosque
shall spit in her face in passing.  Anyone that
refuses to obey shall be exposed to the same
punishment himself.  You, vizir, will see that my
orders are carried out."

The grand-vizir saw that it was useless to say
more, and, full of triumph, the sisters watched
the building of the box, and then listened to the
jeers of the people at the helpless Sultana
sitting inside.  But the poor lady bore herself
with so much dignity and meekness that it was not
long before she had won the sympathy of those that
were best among the crowd.

But it is now time to return to the fate of the
third baby, this time a princess.  Like its
brothers, it was found by the intendant of the
gardens, and adopted by him and his wife, and all
three were brought up with the greatest care and
tenderness.

As the children grew older their beauty and air of
distinction became more and more marked, and their
manners had all the grace and ease that is proper
to people of high birth.  The princes had been
named by their foster-father Bahman and Perviz,
after two of the ancient kings of Persia, while
the princess was called Parizade, or the child of
the genii.

The intendant was careful to bring them up as
befitted their real rank, and soon appointed a
tutor to teach the young princes how to read and
write.  And the princess, determined not to be
left behind, showed herself so anxious to learn
with her brothers, that the intendant consented to
her joining in their lessons, and it was not long
before she knew as much as they did.

From that time all their studies were done in
common.  They had the best masters for the fine
arts, geography, poetry, history and science, and
even for sciences which are learned by few, and
every branch seemed so easy to them, that their
teachers were astonished at the progress they
made.  The princess had a passion for music, and
could sing and play upon all sorts of instruments
she could also ride and drive as well as her
brothers, shoot with a bow and arrow, and throw a
javelin with the same skill as they, and sometimes
even better.

In order to set off these accomplishments, the
intendant resolved that his foster children should
not be pent up any longer in the narrow borders of
the palace gardens, where he had always lived, so
he bought a splendid country house a few miles
from the capital, surrounded by an immense park.
This park he filled with wild beasts of various
sorts, so that the princes and princess might hunt
as much as they pleased.

When everything was ready, the intendant threw
himself at the Sultan's feet, and after referring
to his age and his long services, begged his
Highness's permission to resign his post.  This
was granted by the Sultan in a few gracious words,
and he then inquired what reward he could give to
his faithful servant.  But the intendant declared
that he wished for nothing except the continuance
of his Highness's favour, and prostrating himself
once more, he retired from the Sultan's presence.

Five or six months passed away in the pleasures of
the country, when death attacked the intendant so
suddenly that he had no time to reveal the secret
of their birth to his adopted children, and as his
wife had long been dead also, it seemed as if the
princes and the princess would never know that
they had been born to a higher station than the
one they filled.  Their sorrow for their father
was very deep, and they lived quietly on in their
new home, without feeling any desire to leave it
for court gaieties or intrigues.

One day the princes as usual went out to hunt, but
their sister remained alone in her apartments.
While they were gone an old Mussulman devotee
appeared at the door, and asked leave to enter, as
it was the hour of prayer.  The princess sent
orders at once that the old woman was to be taken
to the private oratory in the grounds, and when
she had finished her prayers was to be shown the
house and gardens, and then to be brought before
her.

Although the old woman was very pious, she was not
at all indifferent to the magnificence of all
around her, which she seemed to understand as well
as to admire, and when she had seen it all she was
led by the servants before the princess, who was
seated in a room which surpassed in splendour all
the rest.

"My good woman," said the princess pointing to a
sofa, "come and sit beside me.  I am delighted at
the opportunity of speaking for a few moments with
so holy a person." The old woman made some
objections to so much honour being done her, but
the princess refused to listen, and insisted that
her guest should take the best seat, and as she
thought she must be tired ordered refreshments.

While the old woman was eating, the princess put
several questions to her as to her mode of life,
and the pious exercises she practiced, and then
inquired what she thought of the house now that
she had seen it.

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "one must be hard
indeed to please to find any fault.  It is
beautiful, comfortable and well ordered, and it is
impossible to imagine anything more lovely than
the garden.  But since you ask me, I must confess
that it lacks three things to make it absolutely
perfect."

"And what can they be?" cried the princess.  "Only
tell me, and I will lose no time in getting them."

"The three things, madam," replied the old woman,
"are, first, the Talking Bird, whose voice draws
all other singing birds to it, to join in chorus.
And second, the Singing Tree, where every leaf is
a song that is never silent.  And lastly the
Golden Water, of which it is only needful to pour
a single drop into a basin for it to shoot up into
a fountain, which will never be exhausted, nor
will the basin ever overflow."

"Oh, how can I thank you," cried the princess,
"for telling me of such treasures!  But add, I
pray you.  to your goodness by further informing
me where I can find them."

"Madam," replied the pilgrim, "I should ill repay
the hospitality you have shown me if I refused to
answer your question.  The three things of which I
have spoken are all to be found in one place, on
the borders of this kingdom, towards India.  Your
messenger has only to follow the road that passes
by your house, for twenty days, and at the end of
that time, he is to ask the first person he meets
for the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the
Golden Water." She then rose, and bidding farewell
to the princess, went her way.

The old woman had taken her departure so abruptly
that the Princess Parizade did not perceive till
she was really gone that the directions were
hardly clear enough to enable the search to be
successful.  And she was still thinking of the
subject, and how delightful it would be to possess
such rarities, when the princes, her brothers,
returned from the chase.

"What is the matter, my sister?" asked Prince
Bahman; "why are you so grave?  Are you ill?  or
has anything happened?"

Princess Parizade did not answer directly, but at
length she raised her eyes, and replied that there
was nothing wrong.

"But there must be something," persisted Prince
Bahman, "for you to have changed so much during
the short time we have been absent.  Hide nothing
from us, I beseech you, unless you wish us to
believe that the confidence we have always had in
one another is now to cease."

"When I said that it was nothing," said the
princess, moved by his words, "I meant that it was
nothing that affected you, although I admit that
it is certainly of some importance to me.  Like
myself, you have always thought this house that
our father built for us was perfect in every
respect, but only to-day I have learned that three
things are still lacking to complete it.  These
are the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree, and the
Golden Water." After explaining the peculiar
qualities of each, the princess continued:  "It
was a Mussulman devotee who told me all this, and
where they might all be found.  Perhaps you will
think that the house is beautiful enough as it is,
and that we can do quite well without them; but in
this I cannot agree with you, and I shall never be
content until I have got them.  So counsel me, I
pray, whom to send on the undertaking."

"My dear sister," replied Prince Bahman, "that you
should care about the matter is quite enough, even
if we took no interest in it ourselves.  But we
both feel with you, and I claim, as the elder, the
right to make the first attempt, if you will tell
me where I am to go, and what steps I am to take."

Prince Perviz at first objected that, being the
head of the family, his brother ought not to be
allowed to expose himself to danger; but Prince
Bahman would hear nothing, and retired to make the
needful preparations for his journey.

The next morning Prince Bahman got up very early,
and after bidding farewell to his brother and
sister, mounted his horse.  But just as he was
about to touch it with his whip, he was stopped by
a cry from the princess.

"Oh, perhaps after all you may never come back;
one never can tell what accidents may happen.
Give it up, I implore you, for I would a thousand
times rather lose the Talking Bird, and the
Singing Tree and the Golden Water, than that you
should run into danger."

"My dear sister," answered the prince, "accidents
only happen to unlucky people, and I hope that I
am not one of them.  But as everything is
uncertain, I promise you to be very careful.  Take
this knife," he continued, handing her one that
hung sheathed from his belt, "and every now and
then draw it out and look at it.  As long as it
keeps bright and clean as it is to-day, you will
know that I am living; but if the blade is spotted
with blood, it will be a sign that I am dead, and
you shall weep for me."

So saying, Prince Bahman bade them farewell once
more, and started on the high road, well mounted
and fully armed.  For twenty days he rode straight
on, turning neither to the right hand nor to the
left, till he found himself drawing near the
frontiers of Persia.  Seated under a tree by the
wayside he noticed a hideous old man, with a long
white moustache, and beard that almost fell to his
feet.  His nails had grown to an enormous length,
and on his head he wore a huge hat, which served
him for an umbrella.

Prince Bahman, who, remembering the directions of
the old woman, had been since sunrise on the
look-out for some one, recognised the old man at
once to be a dervish.  He dismounted from his
horse, and bowed low before the holy man, saying
by way of greeting, "My father, may your days be
long in the land, and may all your wishes be
fulfilled!"

The dervish did his best to reply, but his
moustache was so thick that his words were hardly
intelligible, and the prince, perceiving what was
the matter, took a pair of scissors from his
saddle pockets, and requested permission to cut
off some of the moustache, as he had a question of
great importance to ask the dervish.  The dervish
made a sign that he might do as he liked, and when
a few inches of his hair and beard had been pruned
all round the prince assured the holy man that he
would hardly believe how much younger he looked.
The dervish smiled at his compliments, and thanked
him for what he had done.

"Let me," he said, "show you my gratitude for
making me more comfortable by telling me what I
can do for you."

"Gentle dervish," replied Prince Bahman, "I come
from far, and I seek the Talking Bird, the Singing
Tree, and the Golden Water.  I know that they are
to be found somewhere in these parts, but I am
ignorant of the exact spot.  Tell me, I pray you,
if you can, so that I may not have travelled on a
useless quest." While he was speaking, the prince
observed a change in the countenance of the
dervish, who waited for some time before he made
reply.

"My lord," he said at last, "I do know the road
for which you ask, but your kindness and the
friendship I have conceived for you make me loth
to point it out."

"But why not?" inquired the prince.  "What danger
can there be?"

"The very greatest danger," answered the dervish.
"Other men, as brave as you, have ridden down this
road, and have put me that question.  I did my
best to turn them also from their purpose, but it
was of no use.  Not one of them would listen to my
words, and not one of them came back.  Be warned
in time, and seek to go no further."

"I am grateful to you for your interest in me,"
said Prince Bahman, "and for the advice you have
given, though I cannot follow it.  But what
dangers can there be in the adventure which
courage and a good sword cannot meet?"

"And suppose," answered the dervish, "that your
enemies are invisible, how then?"

"Nothing will make me give it up," replied the
prince, "and for the last time I ask you to tell
me where I am to go."

When the dervish saw that the prince's mind was
made up, he drew a ball from a bag that lay near
him, and held it out.  "If it must be so," he
said, with a sigh, "take this, and when you have
mounted your horse throw the ball in front of you.
It will roll on till it reaches the foot of a
mountain, and when it stops you will stop also.
You will then throw the bridle on your horse's
neck without any fear of his straying, and will
dismount.  On each side you will see vast heaps of
big black stones, and will hear a multitude of
insulting voices, but pay no heed to them, and,
above all, beware of ever turning your head.  If
you do, you will instantly become a black stone
like the rest.  For those stones are in reality
men like yourself, who have been on the same
quest, and have failed, as I fear that you may
fail also.  If you manage to avoid this pitfall,
and to reach the top of the mountain, you will
find there the Talking Bird in a splendid cage,
and you can ask of him where you are to seek the
Singing Tree and the Golden Water.  That is all I
have to say.  You know what you have to do, and
what to avoid, but if you are wise you will think
of it no more, but return whence you have come."

The prince smilingly shook his head, and thanking
the dervish once more, he sprang on his horse and
threw the ball before him.

The ball rolled along the road so fast that Prince
Bahman had much difficulty in keeping up with it,
and it never relaxed its speed till the foot of
the mountain was reached.  Then it came to a
sudden halt, and the prince at once got down and
flung the bridle on his horse's neck.  He paused
for a moment and looked round him at the masses of
black stones with which the sides of the mountain
were covered, and then began resolutely to ascend.
He had hardly gone four steps when he heard the
sound of voices around him, although not another
creature was in sight.

"Who is this imbecile?" cried some, "stop him at
once." "Kill him," shrieked others, "Help!
robbers!  murderers!  help!  help!" "Oh, let him
alone," sneered another, and this was the most
trying of all, "he is such a beautiful young man;
I am sure the bird and the cage must have been
kept for him."

At first the prince took no heed to all this
clamour, but continued to press forward on his
way.  Unfortunately this conduct, instead of
silencing the voices, only seemed to irritate them
the more, and they arose with redoubled fury, in
front as well as behind.  After some time he grew
bewildered, his knees began to tremble, and
finding himself in the act of falling, he forgot
altogether the advice of the dervish.  He turned
to fly down the mountain, and in one moment became
a black stone.

As may be imagined, Prince Perviz and his sister
were all this time in the greatest anxiety, and
consulted the magic knife, not once but many times
a day.  Hitherto the blade had remained bright and
spotless, but on the fatal hour on which Prince
Bahman and his horse were changed into black
stones, large drops of blood appeared on the
surface.  "Ah!  my beloved brother," cried the
princess in horror, throwing the knife from her,
"I shall never see you again, and it is I who have
killed you.  Fool that I was to listen to the
voice of that temptress, who probably was not
speaking the truth.  What are the Talking Bird and
the Singing Tree to me in comparison with you,
passionately though I long for them!"

Prince Perviz's grief at his brother's loss was
not less than that of Princess Parizade, but he
did not waste his time on useless lamentations.

"My sister," he said, "why should you think the
old woman was deceiving you about these treasures,
and what would have been her object in doing so!
No, no, our brother must have met his death by
some accident, or want of precaution, and
to-morrow I will start on the same quest."

Terrified at the thought that she might lose her
only remaining brother, the princess entreated him
to give up his project, but he remained firm.
Before setting out, however, he gave her a chaplet
of a hundred pearls, and said, "When I am absent,
tell this over daily for me.  But if you should
find that the beads stick, so that they will not
slip one after the other, you will know that my
brother's fate has befallen me.  Still, we must
hope for better luck."

Then he departed, and on the twentieth day of his
journey fell in with the dervish on the same spot
as Prince Bahman had met him, and began to
question him as to the place where the Talking
Bird, the Singing Tree and the Golden Water were
to be found.  As in the case of his brother, the
dervish tried to make him give up his project, and
even told him that only a few weeks since a young
man, bearing a strong resemblance to himself, had
passed that way, but had never come back again.

"That, holy dervish," replied Prince Perviz, "was
my elder brother, who is now dead, though how he
died I cannot say."

"He is changed into a black stone," answered the
dervish, "like all the rest who have gone on the
same errand, and you will become one likewise if
you are not more careful in following my
directions." Then he charged the prince, as he
valued his life, to take no heed of the clamour of
voices that would pursue him up the mountain, and
handing him a ball from the bag, which still
seemed to be half full, he sent him on his way.

When Prince Perviz reached the foot of the
mountain he jumped from his horse, and paused for
a moment to recall the instructions the dervish
had given him.  Then he strode boldly on, but had
scarcely gone five or six paces when he was
startled by a man's voice that seemed close to his
ear, exclaiming:  "Stop, rash fellow, and let me
punish your audacity." This outrage entirely put
the dervish's advice out of the prince's head.  He
drew his sword, and turned to avenge himself, but
almost before he had realised that there was
nobody there, he and his horse were two black
stones.

Not a morning had passed since Prince Perviz had
ridden away without Princess Parizade telling her
beads, and at night she even hung them round her
neck, so that if she woke she could assure herself
at once of her brother's safety.  She was in the
very act of moving them through her fingers at the
moment that the prince fell a victim to his
impatience, and her heart sank when the first
pearl remained fixed in its place.  However she
had long made up her mind what she would do in
such a case, and the following morning the
princess, disguised as a man, set out for the
mountain.

As she had been accustomed to riding from her
childhood, she managed to travel as many miles
daily as her brothers had done, and it was, as
before, on the twentieth day that she arrived at
the place where the dervish was sitting.  "Good
dervish," she said politely, "will you allow me to
rest by you for a few moments, and perhaps you
will be so kind as to tell me if you have ever
heard of a Talking Bird, a Singing Tree, and some
Golden Water that are to be found somewhere near
this?"

"Madam," replied the dervish, "for in spite of
your manly dress your voice betrays you, I shall
be proud to serve you in any way I can.  But may I
ask the purpose of your question?"

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I have
heard such glowing descriptions of these three
things, that I cannot rest till I possess them."

"Madam," said the dervish, "they are far more
beautiful than any description, but you seem
ignorant of all the difficulties that stand in
your way, or you would hardly have undertaken such
an adventure.  Give it up, I pray you, and return
home, and do not ask me to help you to a cruel
death."

"Holy father," answered the princess, "I come from
far, and I should be in despair if I turned back
without having attained my object.  You have
spoken of difficulties; tell me, I entreat you,
what they are, so that I may know if I can
overcome them, or see if they are beyond my
strength."

So the dervish repeated his tale, and dwelt more
firmly than before on the clamour of the voices,
the horrors of the black stones, which were once
living men, and the difficulties of climbing the
mountain; and pointed out that the chief means of
success was never to look behind till you had the
cage in your grasp.

"As far as I can see," said the princess, "the
first thing is not to mind the tumult of the
voices that follow you till you reach the cage,
and then never to look behind.  As to this, I
think I have enough self-control to look straight
before me; but as it is quite possible that I
might be frightened by the voices, as even the
boldest men have been, I will stop up my ears with
cotton, so that, let them make as much noise as
they like, I shall hear nothing."

"Madam," cried the dervish, "out of all the number
who have asked me the way to the mountain, you are
the first who has ever suggested such a means of
escaping the danger!  It is possible that you may
succeed, but all the same, the risk is great."

"Good dervish," answered the princess, "I feel in
my heart that I shall succeed, and it only remains
for me to ask you the way I am to go."

Then the dervish said that it was useless to say
more, and he gave her the ball, which she flung
before her.

The first thing the princess did on arriving at
the mountain was to stop her ears with cotton, and
then, making up her mind which was the best way to
go, she began her ascent.  In spite of the cotton,
some echoes of the voices reached her ears, but
not so as to trouble her.  Indeed, though they
grew louder and more insulting the higher she
climbed, the princess only laughed, and said to
herself that she certainly would not let a few
rough words stand between her and the goal.  At
last she perceived in the distance the cage and
the bird, whose voice joined itself in tones of
thunder to those of the rest:  "Return, return!
never dare to come near me."

At the sight of the bird, the princess hastened
her steps, and without vexing herself at the noise
which by this time had grown deafening, she walked
straight up to the cage, and seizing it, she said:
"Now, my bird, I have got you, and I shall take
good care that you do not escape." As she spoke
she took the cotton from her ears, for it was
needed no longer.

"Brave lady," answered the bird, "do not blame me
for having joined my voice to those who did their
best to preserve my freedom.  Although confined in
a cage, I was content with my lot, but if I must
become a slave, I could not wish for a nobler
mistress than one who has shown so much constancy,
and from this moment I swear to serve you
faithfully.  Some day you will put me to the
proof, for I know who you are better than you do
yourself.  Meanwhile, tell me what I can do, and I
will obey you."

"Bird," replied the princess, who was filled with
a joy that seemed strange to herself when she
thought that the bird had cost her the lives of
both her brothers.  "bird, let me first thank you
for your good will, and then let me ask you where
the Golden Water is to be found."

The bird described the place, which was not far
distant, and the princess filled a small silver
flask that she had brought with her for the
purpose.  She then returned to the cage, and said:
"Bird, there is still something else, where shall
I find the Singing Tree?"

"Behind you, in that wood," replied the bird, and
the princess wandered through the wood, till a
sound of the sweetest voices told her she had
found what she sought.  But the tree was tall and
strong, and it was hopeless to think of uprooting
it.

"You need not do that," said the bird, when she
had returned to ask counsel.  "Break off a twig,
and plant it in your garden, and it will take
root, and grow into a magnificent tree."

When the Princess Parizade held in her hands the
three wonders promised her by the old woman, she
said to the bird:  "All that is not enough.  It
was owing to you that my brothers became black
stones.  I cannot tell them from the mass of
others, but you must know, and point them out to
me, I beg you, for I wish to carry them away."

For some reason that the princess could not guess
these words seemed to displease the bird, and he
did not answer.  The princess waited a moment, and
then continued in severe tones, "Have you
forgotten that you yourself said that you are my
slave to do my bidding, and also that your life is
in my power?"

"No, I have not forgotten," replied the bird, "but
what you ask is very difficult.  However, I will
do my best.  If you look round," he went on, "you
will see a pitcher standing near.  Take it, and,
as you go down the mountain, scatter a little of
the water it contains over every black stone and
you will soon find your two brothers."

Princess Parizade took the pitcher, and, carrying
with her besides the cage the twig and the flask,
returned down the mountain side.  At every black
stone she stopped and sprinkled it with water, and
as the water touched it the stone instantly became
a man.  When she suddenly saw her brothers before
her her delight was mixed with astonishment.

"Why, what are you doing here?" she cried.

"We have been asleep," they said.

"Yes," returned the princess, "but without me your
sleep would probably have lasted till the day of
judgment.  Have you forgotten that you came here
in search of the Talking Bird, the Singing Tree,
and the Golden Water, and the black stones that
were heaped up along the road?  Look round and see
if there is one left.  These gentlemen, and
yourselves, and all your horses were changed into
these stones, and I have delivered you by
sprinkling you with the water from this pitcher.
As I could not return home without you, even
though I had gained the prizes on which I had set
my heart, I forced the Talking Bird to tell me how
to break the spell."

On hearing these words Prince Bahman and Prince
Perviz understood all they owed their sister, and
the knights who stood by declared themselves her
slaves and ready to carry out her wishes.  But the
princess, while thanking them for their
politeness, explained that she wished for no
company but that of her brothers, and that the
rest were free to go where they would.

So saying the princess mounted her horse, and,
declining to allow even Prince Bahman to carry the
cage with the Talking Bird, she entrusted him with
the branch of the Singing Tree, while Prince
Perviz took care of the flask containing the
Golden Water.

Then they rode away, followed by the knights and
gentlemen, who begged to be permitted to escort
them.

It had been the intention of the party to stop and
tell their adventures to the dervish, but they
found to their sorrow that he was dead, whether
from old age, or whether from the feeling that his
task was done, they never knew.

As they continued their road their numbers grew
daily smaller, for the knights turned off one by
one to their own homes, and only the brothers and
sister finally drew up at the gate of the palace.

The princess carried the cage straight into the
garden, and, as soon as the bird began to sing,
nightingales, larks, thrushes, finches, and all
sorts of other birds mingled their voices in
chorus.  The branch she planted in a corner near
the house, and in a few days it had grown into a
great tree.  As for the Golden Water it was poured
into a great marble basin specially prepared for
it, and it swelled and bubbled and then shot up
into the air in a fountain twenty feet high.

The fame of these wonders soon spread abroad, and
people came from far and near to see and admire.

After a few days Prince Bahman and Prince Perviz
fell back into their ordinary way of life, and
passed most of their time hunting.  One day it
happened that the Sultan of Persia was also
hunting in the same direction, and, not wishing to
interfere with his sport, the young men, on
hearing the noise of the hunt approaching,
prepared to retire, but, as luck would have it,
they turned into the very path down which the
Sultan was coming.  They threw themselves from
their horses and prostrated themselves to the
earth, but the Sultan was curious to see their
faces, and commanded them to rise.

The princes stood up respectfully, but quite at
their ease, and the Sultan looked at them for a
few moments without speaking, then he asked who
they were and where they lived.

"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "we are sons of
your Highness's late intendant of the gardens, and
we live in a house that he built a short time
before his death, waiting till an occasion should
offer itself to serve your Highness."

"You seem fond of hunting," answered the Sultan.

"Sire," replied Prince Bahman, "it is our usual
exercise, and one that should be neglected by no
man who expects to comply with the ancient customs
of the kingdom and bear arms."

The Sultan was delighted with this remark, and
said at once, "In that case I shall take great
pleasure in watching you.  Come, choose what sort
of beasts you would like to hunt."

The princes jumped on their horses and followed
the Sultan at a little distance.  They had not
gone very far before they saw a number of wild
animals appear at once, and Prince Bahman started
to give chase to a lion and Prince Perviz to a
bear.  Both used their javelins with such skill
that, directly they arrived within striking range,
the lion and the bear fell, pierced through and
through.  Then Prince Perviz pursued a lion and
Prince Bahman a bear, and in a very few minutes
they, too, lay dead.  As they were making ready
for a third assault the Sultan interfered, and,
sending one of his officials to summon them, he
said smiling, "If I let you go on, there will soon
be no beasts left to hunt.  Besides, your courage
and manners have so won my heart that I will not
have you expose yourselves to further danger.  I
am convinced that some day or other I shall find
you useful as well a agreeable."

He then gave them a warm invitation to stay with
him altogether, but with many thanks for the
honour done them, they begged to be excused, and
to be suffered to remain at home.

The Sultan who was not accustomed to see his
offers rejected inquired their reasons, and Prince
Bahman explained that they did not wish to leave
their sister, and were accustomed to do nothing
without consulting all three together.

"Ask her advice, then," replied the Sultan, "and
to-morrow come and hunt with me, and give me your
answer."

The two princes returned home, but their adventure
made so little impression on them that they quite
forgot to speak to their sister on the subject.
The next morning when they went to hunt they met
the Sultan in the same place, and he inquired what
advice their sister had given.  The young men
looked at each other and blushed.  At last Prince
Bahman said, "Sire, we must throw ourselves on
your Highness's mercy.  Neither my brother nor
myself remembered anything about it."

"Then be sure you do not forget to-day," answered
the Sultan, "and bring me back your reply
to-morrow."

When, however, the same thing happened a second
time, they feared that the Sultan might be angry
with them for their carelessness.  But he took it
in good part, and, drawing three little golden
balls from his purse, he held them out to Prince
Bahman, saying, "Put these in your bosom and you
will not forget a third time, for when you remove
your girdle to-night the noise they will make in
falling will remind you of my wishes."

It all happened as the Sultan had foreseen, and
the two brothers appeared in their sister's
apartments just as she was in the act of stepping
into bed, and told their tale.

The Princess Parizade was much disturbed at the
news, and did not conceal her feelings.  "Your
meeting with the Sultan is very honourable to
you," she said, "and will, I dare say, be of
service to you, but it places me in a very awkward
position.  It is on my account, I know, that you
have resisted the Sultan's wishes, and I am very
grateful to you for it.  But kings do not like to
have their offers refused, and in time he would
bear a grudge against you, which would render me
very unhappy.  Consult the Talking Bird, who is
wise and far-seeing, and let me hear what he
says."

So the bird was sent for and the case laid before
him.

"The princes must on no account refuse the
Sultan's proposal," said he, "and they must even
invite him to come and see your house."

"But, bird," objected the princess, "you know how
dearly we love each other; will not all this spoil
our friendship?"

"Not at all," replied the bird, "it will make it
all the closer."

"Then the Sultan will have to see me," said the
princess.

The bird answered that it was necessary that he
should see her, and everything would turn out for
the best.

The following morning, when the Sultan inquired if
they had spoken to their sister and what advice
she had given them, Prince Bahman replied that
they were ready to agree to his Highness's wishes,
and that their sister had reproved them for their
hesitation about the matter.  The Sultan received
their excuses with great kindness, and told them
that he was sure they would be equally faithful to
him, and kept them by his side for the rest of the
day, to the vexation of the grand-vizir and the
rest of the court.

When the procession entered in this order the
gates of the capital, the eyes of the people who
crowded the streets were fixed on the two young
men, strangers to every one.

"Oh, if only the Sultan had had sons like that!"
they murmured, "they look so distinguished and are
about the same age that his sons would have been!"

The Sultan commanded that splendid apartments
should be prepared for the two brothers, and even
insisted that they should sit at table with him.
During dinner he led the conversation to various
scientific subjects, and also to history, of which
he was especially fond, but whatever topic they
might be discussing he found that the views of the
young men were always worth listening to.  "If
they were my own sons," he said to himself, "they
could not be better educated!" and aloud he
complimented them on their learning and taste for
knowledge.

At the end of the evening the princes once more
prostrated themselves before the throne and asked
leave to return home; and then, encouraged by the
gracious words of farewell uttered by the Sultan,
Prince Bahman said:  "Sire, may we dare to take
the liberty of asking whether you would do us and
our sister the honour of resting for a few minutes
at our house the first time the hunt passes that
way?"

"With the utmost pleasure," replied the Sultan;
"and as I am all impatience to see the sister of
such accomplished young men you may expect me the
day after to-morrow."

The princess was of course most anxious to
entertain the Sultan in a fitting way, but as she
had no experience in court customs she ran to the
Talking Bird, and begged he would advise her as to
what dishes should be served.

"My dear mistress," replied the bird, "your cooks
are very good and you can safely leave all to
them, except that you must be careful to have a
dish of cucumbers, stuffed with pearl sauce,
served with the first course."

"Cucumbers stuffed with pearls!" exclaimed the
princess.  "Why, bird, who ever heard of such a
dish?  The Sultan will expect a dinner he can eat,
and not one he can only admire!  Besides, if I
were to use all the pearls I possess, they would
not be half enough."

"Mistress," replied the bird, "do what I tell you
and nothing but good will come of it.  And as to
the pearls, if you go at dawn to-morrow and dig at
the foot of the first tree in the park, on the
right hand, you will find as many as you want."

The princess had faith in the bird, who generally
proved to be right, and taking the gardener with
her early next morning followed out his directions
carefully.  After digging for some time they came
upon a golden box fastened with little clasps.

These were easily undone, and the box was found to
be full of pearls, not very large ones, but
well-shaped and of a good colour.  So leaving the
gardener to fill up the hole he had made under the
tree, the princess took up the box and returned to
the house.

The two princes had seen her go out, and had
wondered what could have made her rise so early.
Full of curiosity they got up and dressed, and met
their sister as she was returning with the box
under her arm.

"What have you been doing?" they asked, "and did
the gardener come to tell you he had found a
treasure?"

"On the contrary," replied the princess, "it is I
who have found one," and opening the box she
showed her astonished brothers the pearls inside.
Then, on the way back to the palace, she told them
of her consultation with the bird, and the advice
it had given her.  All three tried to guess the
meaning of the singular counsel, but they were
forced at last to admit the explanation was beyond
them, and they must be content blindly to obey.

The first thing the princess did on entering the
palace was to send for the head cook and to order
the repast for the Sultan When she had finished
she suddenly added, "Besides the dishes I have
mentioned there is one that you must prepare
expressly for the Sultan, and that no one must
touch but yourself.  It consists of a stuffed
cucumber, and the stuffing is to be made of these
pearls."

The head cook, who had never in all his experience
heard of such a dish, stepped back in amazement.

"You think I am mad," answered the princess, who
perceived what was in his mind.  "But I know quite
well what I am doing.  Go, and do your best, and
take the pearls with you."

The next morning the princes started for the
forest, and were soon joined by the Sultan.  The
hunt began and continued till mid-day, when the
heat became so great that they were obliged to
leave off.  Then, as arranged, they turned their
horses' heads towards the palace, and while Prince
Bahman remained by the side of the Sultan, Prince
Perviz rode on to warn his sister of their
approach.

The moment his Highness entered the courtyard, the
princess flung herself at his feet, but he bent
and raised her, and gazed at her for some time,
struck with her grace and beauty, and also with
the indefinable air of courts that seemed to hang
round this country girl.  "They are all worthy one
of the other," he said to himself, "and I am not
surprised that they think so much of her opinions.
I must know more of them."

By this time the princess had recovered from the
first embarrassment of meeting, and proceeded to
make her speech of welcome.

"This is only a simple country house, sire," she
said, "suitable to people like ourselves, who live
a quiet life.  It cannot compare with the great
city mansions, much less, of course, with the
smallest of the Sultan's palaces."

"I cannot quite agree with you," he replied; "even
the little that I have seen I admire greatly, and
I will reserve my judgment until you have shown me
the whole."

The princess then led the way from room to room,
and the Sultan examined everything carefully.  "Do
you call this a simple country house?" he said at
last.  "Why, if every country house was like this,
the towns would soon be deserted.  I am no longer
astonished that you do not wish to leave it.  Let
us go into the gardens, which I am sure are no
less beautiful than the rooms."

A small door opened straight into the garden, and
the first object that met the Sultan's eyes was
the Golden Water.

"What lovely coloured water!" he exclaimed; "where
is the spring, and how do you make the fountain
rise so high?  I do not believe there is anything
like it in the world." He went forward to examine
it, and when he had satisfied his curiosity, the
princess conducted him towards the Singing Tree.

As they drew near, the Sultan was startled by the
sound of strange voices, but could see nothing.
"Where have you hidden your musicians?" he asked
the princess; "are they up in the air, or under
the earth?  Surely the owners of such charming
voices ought not to conceal themselves!"

"Sire," answered the princess, "the voices all
come from the tree which is straight in front of
us; and if you will deign to advance a few steps,
you will see that they become clearer."

The Sultan did as he was told, and was so wrapt in
delight at what he heard that he stood some time
in silence.

"Tell me, madam, I pray you," he said at last,
"how this marvellous tree came into your garden?
It must have been brought from a great distance,
or else, fond as I am of all curiosities, I could
not have missed hearing of it!  What is its name?"

"The only name it has, sire," replied she, "is the
Singing Tree, and it is not a native of this
country.  Its history is mixed up with those of
the Golden Water and the Talking Bird, which you
have not yet seen.  If your Highness wishes I will
tell you the whole story, when you have recovered
from your fatigue."

"Indeed, madam," returned he, "you show me so many
wonders that it is impossible to feel any fatigue.
Let us go once more and look at the Golden Water;
and I am dying to see the Talking Bird."

The Sultan could hardly tear himself away from the
Golden Water, which puzzled him more and more.
"You say," he observed to the princess, "that this
water does not come from any spring, neither is
brought by pipes.  All I understand is, that
neither it nor the Singing Tree is a native of
this country."

"It is as you say, sire," answered the princess,
"and if you examine the basin, you will see that
it is all in one piece, and therefore the water
could not have been brought through it.  What is
more astonishing is, that I only emptied a small
flaskful into the basin, and it increased to the
quantity you now see."

"Well, I will look at it no more to-day," said the
Sultan.  "Take me to the Talking Bird."

On approaching the house, the Sultan noticed a
vast quantity of birds, whose voices filled the
air, and he inquired why they were so much more
numerous here than in any other part of the
garden.

"Sire," answered the princess, "do you see that
cage hanging in one of the windows of the saloon?
that is the Talking Bird, whose voice you can hear
above them all, even above that of the
nightingale.  And the birds crowd to this spot, to
add their songs to his."

The Sultan stepped through the window, but the
bird took no notice, continuing his song as
before.

"My slave," said the princess, "this is the
Sultan; make him a pretty speech."

The bird stopped singing at once, and all the
other birds stopped too.

"The Sultan is welcome," he said.  "I wish him
long life and all prosperity."

"I thank you, good bird," answered the Sultan,
seating himself before the repast, which was
spread at a table near the window, "and I am
enchanted to see in you the Sultan and King of the
Birds."

The Sultan, noticing that his favourite dish of
cucumber was placed before him, proceeded to help
himself to it, and was amazed to and that the
stuffing was of pearls.  "A novelty, indeed!"
cried he, "but I do not understand the reason of
it; one cannot eat pearls!"

"Sire," replied the bird, before either the
princes or the princess could speak, "surely your
Highness cannot be so surprised at beholding a
cucumber stuffed with pearls, when you believed
without any difficulty that the Sultana had
presented you, instead of children, with a dog, a
cat, and a log of wood."

"I believed it," answered the Sultan, "because the
women attending on her told me so."

"The women, sire," said the bird, "were the
sisters of the Sultana, who were devoured with
jealousy at the honour you had done her, and in
order to revenge themselves invented this story.
Have them examined, and they will confess their
crime.  These are your children, who were saved
from death by the intendant of your gardens, and
brought up by him as if they were his own."

Like a flash the truth came to the mind of the
Sultan.  "Bird," he cried, "my heart tells me that
what you say is true.  My children," he added,
"let me embrace you, and embrace each other, not
only as brothers and sister, but as having in you
the blood royal of Persia which could flow in no
nobler veins."

When the first moments of emotion were over, the
Sultan hastened to finish his repast, and then
turning to his children he exclaimed:  "To-day you
have made acquaintance with your father.
To-morrow I will bring you the Sultana your
mother.  Be ready to receive her."

The Sultan then mounted his horse and rode quickly
back to the capital.  Without an instant's delay
he sent for the grand-vizir, and ordered him to
seize and question the Sultana's sisters that very
day.  This was done.  They were confronted with
each other and proved guilty, and were executed in
less than an hour.

But the Sultan did not wait to hear that his
orders had been carried out before going on foot,
followed by his whole court to the door of the
great mosque, and drawing the Sultana with his own
hand out of the narrow prison where she had spent
so many years, "Madam," he cried, embracing her
with tears in his eyes, "I have come to ask your
pardon for the injustice I have done you, and to
repair it as far as I may.  I have already begun
by punishing the authors of this abominable crime,
and I hope you will forgive me when I introduce
you to our children, who are the most charming and
accomplished creatures in the whole world.  Come
with me, and take back your position and all the
honour that is due to you."

This speech was delivered in the presence of a
vast multitude of people, who had gathered from
all parts on the first hint of what was happening,
and the news was passed from mouth to mouth in a
few seconds.

Early next day the Sultan and Sultana, dressed in
robes of state and followed by all the court, set
out for the country house of their children.  Here
the Sultan presented them to the Sultana one by
one, and for some time there was nothing but
embraces and tears and tender words.  Then they
ate of the magnificent dinner which had been
prepared for them, and after they were all
refreshed they went into the garden, where the
Sultan pointed out to his wife the Golden Water
and the Singing Tree.  As to the Talking Bird, she
had already made acquaintance with him.

In the evening they rode together back to the
capital, the princes on each side of their father,
and the princess with her mother.  Long before
they reached the gates the way was lined with
people, and the air filled with shouts of welcome,
with which were mingled the songs of the Talking
Bird, sitting in its cage on the lap of the
princess, and of the birds who followed it.

And in this manner they came back to their
father's palace.