morning the sultan got up before day, and, in order to execute his design, he hid in a corner his upper garment, that would have been cumbersome to him, and went to the Palace of Tears. He found it illuminated with an infinite number of flambeaux of white wax, and a delicious scent issued from several boxes of fine gold, of admirable workmanship, all ranged in excellent order. As soon as he saw the bed where the black lay, lie drew his scimitar, killed the wretch without resistance, dragged his corpse into the court of the castle, and threw it into a well. After this he went and lay down in the black's bed, took his scimitar with him under the counterpane, and lay there to execute what he had designed.
The magician arrived in a little time; she first went into the chamber where her husband, the king of the Black Islands, was; stripped him, and beat him with bull pizzles in a most barbarous manner. The poor prince filled the palace with his lamentations to no purpose; and conjured her, in the most affecting manner that could be, to take pity on him; but the cruel woman would not give over till she had given him an hundred blows. You had no compassion on my lover, said she, and you are to expect none from me. Scheherazade, perceiving day, stopped, and could go no further.
O heaven! says Dinarzade, sister, this was a barbarous enchantress indeed. But must we stop here? Will you not tell us whether she received the chastisement she deserved? My dear sister, says the sultaness, I desire nothing more than to acquaint you with it to-morrow; but you know that depends on the sultan's pleasure. After what Schahriar had heard, he was far from any design to put Scheherazade to death; on the contrary, says he to himself, I will not take away her life till she has finished this surprising story, though it should last for two months. It shall always be in my power to keep the oath I have made.
The Twenty-sixth Night.
As soon as Dinarzade thought it was time to call the sultaness, she says to her, How much should I be obliged to you, dear sister, if you would tell us what passed in the Palace of Tears. Schahriar having signified that he was as curious to know it as Dinarzade, the sultaness resumed the story of the young enchanted prince as follows:
Sir, after the enchantress had given the king her husband an hundred blows with bull pizzles, she put on again his covering of goat hair, and his brocade gown over all; she went afterwards to the Palace of Tears, and, as she entered the same, she renewed her tears and lamentations; then approaching the bed, where she thought her gallant was, What cruelty, cries she, was it to disturb the contentment of so tender and passionate a lover as I am! O thou who reproachest me that I am too inhuman, when I make thee feel the effects of my resentment! cruel prince! does not thy barbarity surpass my vengeance? Ah, traitor! in attempting the life of the object whom I adore, hast thou not robbed me of mine? Alas! says she, addressing herself to the sultan, while she thought she spoke to the black, my soul, my life, will you always be silent? Are you resolved to let me die, without giving me so much comfort as to tell me that you love me? My soul! speak one word to me at least, I conjure you.
The sultan, making as if he had awakened out of a deep sleep, and counterfeiting the language of the blacks, answers the queen with a grave tone, 'There is no force nor power but in God alone, who is almighty.' At these words, the enchantress, who did not expect them, gave a great shout, to signify her excessive joy. My dear lord, says she, do not I deceive myself? is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me? Unhappy wretch, said the sultan, art thou worthy that I should answer thy discourse? Alas! replies the queen, why do you reproach me thus? The cries, replied he, the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, hinder me to sleep night and day. I should have been cured long ago, and have recovered the use of my speech, hadst thou disenchanted him. This is the cause of my silence, which you complain of. Very well, says the enchantress, to pacify you, I am ready to do what you will command me; would you that I restore him as he was? Yes, replies the sultan, make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no more disturbed with his cries.
The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she took a cup of water, and pronounced words over it, which caused it to boil as if it had been on the fire. She went afterwards to the hall to the young king her husband, and threw the water upon him, saying, 'If the Creator of all things did form thee so as thou art at present, or if he be angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou wast before.' She had scarcely spoken these words, when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up freely with all imaginable joy, and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, Get thee gone from this castle, and never return here on pain of death. The young king, yielding to necessity, went away from the enchantress without replying a word, and retired to a remote place, where he immediately expected the success of the design which the sultan had begun so happily. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears, and, supposing that she still spoke to the black, says, Dear lover, I have done what you ordered; let nothing now hinder you to give me that satisfaction of which I have been deprived so long.
The sultan continued to counterfeit the language of the blacks. That which you have just now done, said he, signifies nothing to my cure; you have only eased me of part of my disease; you must cut it up by the roots. My lovely black, replies she, what do you mean by the roots? Unfortunate woman, replies the sultan, do you not understand that I mean the town and its inhabitants, and the four islands, which thou hast destroyed by thy enchantments?
The fishes, every night at midnight, raise their heads out of the pond, and cry for vengeance against thee and me. This is the true cause of the delay of my cure. Go speedily, restore things as they were, and at thy return I will give thee my hand, and thou shalt help me to rise.
The enchantress, filled with hopes from these words, cried out in a transport of joy, My heart, my soul, you shall soon be restored to your health; for I will immediately do what you command me. Accordingly she went that moment, and when she came to the brink of the pond, she took a little water in her hand, and sprinkling it—Here Scheherazade saw day, and stopped.
Dinarzade says to the sultaness, Sister, I am much rejoiced to hear that the young king of the Black Islands was disenchanted, and I already consider the town and the inhabitants as restored to their former state; but I long to know what will become of the enchantress. Have a little patience, replies the sultaness, and you shall have the satisfaction you desire to-morrow, if the sultan, my lord, will consent to it. Schahriar, having resolved on it already, as was said before, rose up, and went about his business.
The Twenty-seventh Night.
At the usual hour Dinarzade called upon the sultaness thus: Dear sister, pray tell us what was the fate of the magician queen, as you promised us; upon which Scheherazade went on thus: The enchantress had no sooner sprinkled the water, and pronounced some words over the fishes and the pond, than the city was restored that very minute. The fishes became men, women, and children; Mahometans, Christians, Persians, or Jews, freemen or slaves, ns they were before; every one having recovered their natural form. The houses and shops were immediately filled with their inhabitants, who found all things as they were before the enchantment. The sultan's numerous retinue, who found themselves encamped in the largest square, were astonished to see themselves, in an instant, in the middle of a large, fine, and well-peopled city.
To return to the enchantress: As soon as she had made this wonderful change, she returned with all diligence to the Palace of Tears, that she might reap the fruits of it. My dear lord, cries she, as she entered, I come to rejoice with you for the return of your health; I have done all that you required of me; then pray rise, and give me your hand. Come near, says the sultan, still counterfeiting the language of the blacks. She did so. You are not near enough, replies he; come nearer. She obeyed. Then he rose up, and seized her by the arm so suddenly, that she had not time to know who it was, and with a blow of his scimitar cut her in two, so that the one half fell one way, and the other another. This being done, he left the carcase upon the place, and, going out of the Palace of Tears, he went to seek the young king of the Black Isles, who waited for him with a great deal of impatience;
