where she would continue, she told me, to the end of her days. I agreed to it, and she built a stately palace, with a cupola, that may be seen here, and she called it the Palace of Tears. When it was finished, she caused her gallant to be brought thither from the place that she made him to be carried the same night that I wounded him; she had hindered his dying by the drink she gave him, and carried to him herself every day after he came to the Palace of Tears.
Yet, with all her enchantments, she could not cure the wretch; he was not only unable to walk, and to help himself, but had also lost the use of his speech, and gave no sign of life but only by his looks. Though the queen had no other consolation but to see him, and to say to him all that her foolish passion could inspire her with, yet every day she made him two long visits; I was very well informed of all this, but pretended to know nothing of it.
One day I went out of curiosity to the Palace of Tears to see how the princess employed herself, and, going to a place where she could not see me, I heard her speak thus to her gallant: I am afflicted to the highest degree to see you in this condition; I am as sensible as you are yourself of the tormenting grief you endure; but, dear soul, I always speak to you, and you do not answer me. How long will you be silent? speak only one word: Alas! the sweetest moments of my life are those I spend here in partaking of your grief. I cannot live at a distance from you, and would prefer the pleasure of always seeing you to the empire of the universe.
At these words, which were several times interrupted by her sighs and sobs, I lost all patience; and, discovering myself, came up to her, and said, Madam, you have mourned enough, it is time to give over this sorrow which dishonours us both; you have too much forgotten what you owe to me and to yourself. Sir, says she, if you have any kindness or complaisance left for me, I beseech you to put no force upon me; allow me to give myself up to mortal grief; it is impossible for time to lessen it.
When I saw that my discourse, instead of bringing her to her duty, served only to increase her rage, I gave over and retired. She continued every day to visit her gallant, and for two long years gave herself up to excessive grief.
I went a second time to the Palace of Tears while she was there; I hid myself again, and heard her speak thus to her gallant: It is now three years since you spoke one word to me; you return no answer to the marks of love I give you by my discourse and groans. Is it from want of sense, or out of contempt? O tomb! have you abated that excessive love he had for me? Have you shut those eyes that showed me so much love, and were all my joy? No, no, I believe nothing of it. Tell me rather by what miracle you became intrusted with the rarest treasure that ever was in the world?
I must confess, my lord, I was enraged at these words; for, in short, this gallant so much doted upon, this adored mortal, was not such a one as you would imagine him to have been; he was a black Indian, a native of that country. I say, I was so enraged at this discourse, that I discovered myself all of a sudden, and addressing the tomb in my turn, O tomb! cried I, why do you not swallow up that monster in nature, or rather why do you not swallow up the gallant and his mistress?
I had scarcely finished these words, when the queen, who sat by the black, rose up like a fury. Ah, cruel man! says she, thou art the cause of my grief; do not you think but I know it. I have dissembled it but too long; it is thy barbarous hand which hath brought the object of my love to this lamentable condition; and you are so hard-hearted as to come and insult a despairing lover. Yes, said I, in a rage, it is I who chastized that monster according to his desert; I ought to have treated thee in the same manner; I repent now that I did not do it; thou hast abused my goodness too long. As I spoke these words, I drew out my scimitar, and lifted up my hand to punish her; but she, steadfastly beholding me, said, with a jeering smile, Moderate thy anger. At the same time she pronounced words I did not understand, and afterwards added, By virtue of my enchantments, I command thee immediately to become half marble and half man. Immediately, my lord, I became such as you see me, already a dead man among the living, and a living man among the dead. Here Scheherazade, perceiving day, broke off her story.
Upon which Dinarzade says, Dear sister, I am exceedingly obligated to the sultan, for it is to his goodness I owe the extraordinary pleasure I have in your stories. My sister, replies the sultaness, if the sultan will be so good as to suffer me to live till to-morrow, I shall tell you a thing that will afford as much satisfaction as any thing you have yet heard. Though Schahriar had not resolved to defer the death of Scheherazade a month longer, he could not have ordered her to be put to death that day.
The Twenty-fifth Night.
Towards the end of the night, Dinarzade cried, Sister, if I do not trespass too much upon your complaisance, I would pray you to finish the history of the king of the Black Islands. Scheherazade, having awaked upon her sister's call, prepared to give the satisfaction she required, and began thus:
The king, half marble half man, continued his history to the sultan thus: After this cruel magician, unworthy of the name of a queen, had metamorphosed me thus, and brought me into this hall by another enchantment, she destroyed my capital, which was very flourishing and full of people; she abolished the houses, the public places, and markets, and made a pond and desert field of it, which you may have seen; the fishes of four colours in the pond are the four sorts of people, of different religions, that inhabited the place. The white are the Mussulmen; the red, the Persians, who worshipped the fire; the blue, the Christians; and the yellow, the Jews. The four little hills were the four islands that gave name to this kingdom. I learned all this from the magician, who, to add to my affliction, told me with her own mouth these effects of her rage. But this is not all; her revenge was not satisfied with the destruction of my dominions, and the metamorphosis of my person; she comes every day, and gives me, over my naked shoulders, an hundred blows with ox pizzles, which makes me all over blood; and, when she has done so, covers me with a coarse stuff of goats hair, and throws over it this robe of brocade that you see, not to do me honour, but to mock me.
At this part of the discourse, the king could not withhold his tears; and the sultan's heart was so pierced with the relation, that he could not speak one word to comfort him. A little time after, the young king, lifting up his ryes to heaven, cried out, Mighty Creator of all things, I submit myself to your judgments, and to the decrees of your providence; I endure my calamities with patience, since it is your will it should be so; but I hope your infinite goodness will reward me for it.
The sultan, being much moved by the recital of so strange a story, and animated to avenge this unfortunate prince, says to him, Tell me whither this perfidious magician retires, and where her unworthy gallant may be, who is buried before his death? My lord, replies the prince, her gallant, as I have already told you, is in the Palace of Tears, in a tomb in form of a dome, and that palace joins to this castle on the side of the gate. As to the magician, I cannot precisely tell whither she retires; but every day at sun-rising she goes to see her gallant, after having executed her bloody vengeance upon me, as I have told you: and you see I am not in a condition to defend myself against so great cruelty. She carries him the drink with which she has hitherto prevented his dying, and always complains of his never speaking to her since he was wounded.
Oh, unfortunate prince, says the sultan, you can never enough be bewailed! Nobody can be more sensibly touched with your condition than I am; never did such an extraordinary misfortune befal any man; and those who write your history will have the advantage to relate a passage that surpasses all that has ever yet been recorded. There is nothing wanting but one thing, the revenge which is due to you, and I will omit nothing that can be done to procure it.
While the sultan discoursed upon this subject with the young prince, he told him who he was, and for what end he entered the castle, and thought on a plan of revenge, which he communicated to him. They agreed upon the measures they were to take for effecting their design, but deferred the execution of it till the next day. In the mean time, the night being far spent, the sultan took some rest, but the poor young prince passed the night without sleep as usual, having never slept since he was enchanted; but he conceived some hopes of being speedily delivered from his misery.
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