THERE was once a rich Persian, named Bolamah, whose father had left him in possession of such vast amounts of treasure that he exceeded even the greatest Princes of the country in wealth. Bolamah had a splendid palace, full of all that could delight the senses, and furnish food for the mind; such statuary and rich paintings was never before seen; such magnificent gardens, grottoes and fountains; beside this, he was exceedingly handsome in person and accomplished in mind and manners. Of course, he was surrounded by flatterers, who paid court to him, because, in return, he heaped benefits upon them, and, so accustomed was he to praise, that insensibly it became necessary to his happiness, and those who were most fulsome in their adulation were the surest of gaining his favor.

He had, however, one true friend, who esteemed Bolamah next to himself; and if any make profession of greater friendship than that, we ought to suspect their sincerity. This friend, called Cobez, was poor but honest, and much attached to Bolamah, who was fond of him also. For a long time after his father’s death, Bolamah found plenty of employment in perfecting and adorning his palace, and Cobez was always appointed to oversee the execution of the plans that the fine taste of his patron suggested. By their joint efforts the palace of Bolamah was so noted for its elegance that many came from afar to see it, and were enchanted, and did homage to the fortunate owner, who was the proudest of men. When he reached his thirtieth year he felt that his happiness would be more complete if he had a wife, to be with him constantly, and to share the grandeur and luxury that surrounded him. He opened, as usual, his mind to Cobez, and promised to bestow on him a magnificent reward, if he would procure him a suitable companion. Cobez readily enough accepted the commission, first revolving in his mind what sort of woman would be most likely to please Bolamah. In regard to her beauty, that matter was settled at once—it was indispensable; and in Persia, where the women have a world-wide reputation for personal attractions, it was no hard matter to find plenty which would charm the eye. “But,” thought he, “Bolamah, who is so learned and accomplished himself, will require that his wife also, in the same manner, excel all others; and to find beauty and talent combined would be a difficult task.” Nevertheless, he determined to undertake it, and gain the reward if he was able, for Cobez was in love, and would have asked no one to choose a wife for him while pretty little black-eyed Manilla lived with her old father, by the side of the same river that passed through the splendid grounds of Bolamah, yet did not disdain to make its gladdest music in rushing by their little cot, that stood in the humblest vale.

Cobez knew if he could gain the reward that Bolamah offered it would make him rich as he desired for the rest of his life; he could then marry his little Manilla, and make sure that she was his own; and he felt that he could never rest easy till this was done, for she was beset by all the neighboring swains; and, though she had given him her troth, he could not help feeling anxious and uneasy when others, richer than himself, were pressing their suits with such ardor. Cobez, therefore, sought earnestly to find out some woman to present to Bolamah, and one fine morning, setting out on a journey, he resolved not to come back till he had accomplished his object. After having been gone for a long time, and hearing of many whom he thought would be likely to please, but, on searching them out, finding himself always disappointed, he one day heard of a very beautiful woman, of whose voice such wonders were told that he determined to hear her for himself; accordingly he travelled to the place where this singing bird (whose name was Natinga), resided. He found her with a crowd about her, who were listening breathlessly while she poured forth from her swelling throat such a melody that poor Cobez sat down overpowered and listened, forgetting for the time his errand, Bolamah, Manilla, everything, so completely was his soul ravished from him. When she had ceased he recovered himself enough to perceive that she was as finely formed and handsome a woman as one could wish to see, and he felt sure, if Bolamah could only hear her sing, he would marry her at once, and thus have her where he could always be listening to the music of her voice.

He found no great trouble in persuading Natinga to go with him. She was poor, and, like her sex, fond of luxury and splendor, and Cobez had not been behindhand in picturing the brilliant future that lay before her, if she would leave her home and follow him. She bade adieu to her parents and friends, and set off with Cobez, but in parting felt sorrowful enough, as she remembered how proud they all had been of her; but when, after three days, she came in sight of a stately palace, and Cobez told her that, in all probability, it would be her future home, she banished her regrets, and bore herself through the gateway, on her camel, with as proud an air as a queen about to receive the homage of her subjects. Bolamah met them at the door, and conducted them to the apartments that he had appropriated to the use of his future wife. “Here,” thought Natinga, “one can but be happy.” And no wonder she thought so, for everything a woman could fancy or desire was there; the softest carpets, in which the feet sank as into mossy turf; couches of velvet and down; fountains, with gay birds dipping their tiny beaks into the spray; flowers, whose odors almost palled on the senses by their richness. Poor Natinga was at first bewildered, and Cobez feared she would not be collected enough to do her best before Bolamah at night, which he had appointed as the time when he should first listen to her music. But at evening, seated on a balcony overlooking a scene of beauty, made visible by the moonlight, she was so excited and inspired that she poured forth, as if from her very soul, such notes as Cobez had never heard from her before. Bolamah, completely ravished, declared passionately that this was the woman of all others to be his chosen companion; and the hearts of the three that evening were full of joy: Bolamah, at having such a lovely and accomplished being for his bride, Natinga, with her new-found splendor, and Cobez, that he had gained the reward that was to do so much for him. Bolamah was so proud of Natinga and her genius that he sent invitations to all the wealthy gentlemen of distinction, with their families, to come to a great feast that he was preparing, and which was to last for a whole month, and terminate with his marriage. He caused a sort of throne to be erected for himself and Natinga at the end of a splendid hall, or court, where, with a harp of gold in her hand, she performed and sang before the assembly, who were in raptures. Their applause at first pleased Bolamah, but he soon found that he was cast into the shade by the superiority of Natinga; that when he took the harp his own performance did not please even himself, and only called forth such meager applause as the politeness of his guests forced from them. And, day by day, as they became more charmed with Natinga’s music, and poured forth the flattery at her shrine that he had been wont to receive himself, he grew more disquieted, and laid the consequences of his own vanity to the account of poor Natinga. He began to fancy that her music was harsh and discordant, that it grated upon his ear, and he grew sullen and ill-humored towards her, while she, poor thing, never imagining the cause of his unhappiness, went on trying to please him by even outdoing herself, which, of course, only rendered her the more odious to him.

At last his distaste became so evident that Cobez perceived something was wrong, and shortly after, Bolamah told him that he must take her out of his sight, and endeavor to procure for him a wife whose tastes should better accord with his own. Cobez was very sorry to hear this, indeed much more grieved than Natinga herself, when she came to be told of it, for her life had latterly been made so unpleasant, by Bolamah’s harshness, she was only too glad to be permitted to go back again to the kind friends who had been so proud of her, more especially so, as Bolamah in his anxiety to get rid of her, had to make amends to her for her disappointment, by loading her with valuable presents, and graciously bidding her farewell.

Cobez conducted her again to her native place, where the whole town, when they heard that she was returning to them, came out to receive her, and carried her triumphantly to her own little home—to her parents, where her song was soon heard “ringing up the sky,” as would a wild bird’s, who had been confined in a golden cage, when it felt itself free, and again in the little nest of its infancy.

While Cobez was rather sadly returning, leading the gaily housed animal which had borne Natinga to her home, all his fine schemes having fallen to the ground by this sudden change in the mind of Bolamah, he saw before him a company of ladies and gentlemen to whom he wished to join himself, as the road was infested with robbers, who were apt to molest single travellers; he rode up, and asked to go along with them, to which they gladly gave their consent. He found that they were going to look at some paintings in a town not far off, which were said to be the most beautiful in the world. Cobez resolved to go with them, and secure the choicest for Bolamah’s palace. They entered a gallery where they were on exhibition, and Cobez felt sure that they surpassed anything that he had ever seen, although he had made a collection in the palace of all that were the most celebrated; and on asking to see the artist, he was very much astonished when a female presented herself, a lovely woman, with a pure Grecian face and form, mild brown eyes and hair, whose smooth braids were folded classically around her forehead. Krayona had a gentleness of manner, that indicated a pliable disposition. Cobez instantly said to himself, What if I should induce this lady to accompany me home; Bolamah, who paints so well himself, would surely enjoy having his wife in possession of the same talent. Dear me, were I like Bolamah, able to marry, I should not be so long in making a choice; but such a poor ignorant thing as Manilla would not suit Bolamah. She cannot sing or paint, or do anything clever, but her laugh is music enough for me, and her little fingers twirl the thread she spins so prettily, and her small feet go dancing along with such a graceful lightness, that she is more charming to me than the most accomplished lady in the land. But if I do not succeed in getting the reward, what will all her prettiness avail me; I shall be too poor to marry her; so at a venture I will take Krayona, and see if she will not please Bolamah better than Natinga has done. Krayona did not refuse the honor of becoming a candidate, as the wife of the wealthiest gentleman in Persia, when Cobez represented to her that he was in favor of her accompanying him. So one morning saw her on the camel, that had borne Natinga in a contrary direction, and with her choicest paintings in a caravan behind, journeying over a delightful country, toward the palace of Bolamah. They reached it as sunset was gilding its walls with its gorgeous floods of light. They entered the palace quietly, and Krayona, without being announced, was conducted by Cobez to his own apartments, and the next day, when he and Bolamah were alone together, he told him of Krayona, and caused the finest of her works to be shown to him, which Bolamah so admired that he greatly desired to see the artist. Her modest address and mild beauty so charmed him, that he directly desired that she should be made mistress of the apartments that Natinga had formerly occupied, and have free access to his galleries of painting and statuary, to gratify her favorite tastes. She was almost beside herself in the midst of these works of art, and with Bolamah, spent most of her time there, copying from the old masters, or out amid the beautiful works of nature, sketching beside him. Now, Cobez thought his patron would be satisfied, and all would go well again; but he found that it was not so. Bolamah had caused Krayona’s paintings to be hung beside his own, and on first seeing them together, was excessively mortified, to behold what a sorry appearance his own made beside them; and when he saw that all eyes, after glancing at his, instantly returned to those of Krayona, he began to be as jealous of her as he before had been of Natinga, and to wish her as heartily out of his sight. Krayona was too much occupied with her art to notice the change in Bolamah; but Cobez, who watched him closely, soon detected it, and made up his mind that as Bolamah was so fickle, it would be almost impossible to fix him in his choice, and he felt no surprise when Bolamah instructed him to make presents to Krayona, as he had done to Natinga, and convey her away in the same manner. All which he did; and Krayona, without a word of complaint, left her grandeur, and returned to her former station, happy and contented.

Now about this time, travelers from the eastern part of Persia came through the country where Bolamah dwelt, and gave their testimony to the genius of a bright star in poetry that had arisen in that land; her fame was so noised abroad as to rivet the ears of Cobez and Bolamah, who, from time to time conversed upon the various reports of her that came to them, and at last, so much was he interested, Cobez was directed to find her out, and if possible, to bring her to the palace. After much seeking, he obtained an entrance into her presence, where she was surrounded with auditors, before whom she was reciting her stanzas. He thought her a glorious creature, with her black hair streaming wildly, and her eyes of fire, her low broad brow, and cheek pale, excepting as it was lit by the flash of genius. She needed the most glowing descriptions from Cobez of Bolamah’s riches and power, to induce her to consent to go with him; but he succeeded at last; and after a journey, the most trying to Cobez, they came to a point where a cavalcade, sent out by Bolamah, to welcome his chosen bride to her home, was waiting to meet them. Bolamah himself came many miles in state, to receive one so distinguished, and they conducted her with ceremony into the palace, where everything had been put in order to welcome her. It took her several days to recover the fatigues of her journey, and all the while Bolamah was waiting impatiently to converse with her, and to hear her poetry. At last she gave out that she would meet him with his friends in the great hall, and recite to him her poetry. In the evening she was inducted into the seat that Natinga had occupied, when she sang before them, and with Bolamah beside her, she commenced a wild rhapsody, then swelling to a lofty strain, she told of the battle raging high, till the warriors would place their hands upon their swords, and breathe forth fire; then her voice and words would soothe, till they sank back and listened, while she poured a tale of love; then she would melt them to tears with her pathetic lay, till they hushed their very breaths to hear her. Bolamah was at first carried along with the tide, and praised and admired as well as others; but the next day, alone with Hersala, when he commenced repeating to her some of his own poetry, he found first that she was yawning wearily, and then, that she was fast asleep. He discovered, too, that one who had been so constantly flattered as Hersala, like himself, needed the excitement of praise, and that after these fits of inspiration, she was more than usually dull; that her temper was not as mild as that of Natinga, or Krayona, and that the wild passion she expressed, sometimes moved her own bosom to a storm.

If he had been jealous of Natinga and Krayona, he might well be of Hersala, for she so wrought upon the minds of all, the very scullions in the kitchen were repeating her words or singing her songs; and so greatly was she adored, that a crowd followed her footsteps, and Bolamah, of so much importance before, sank into insignificance beside her. He became at last so mad with jealousy, that he dismissed her suddenly, and she, in a rage at his treatment, wrote verses on Bolamah, and placed his foibles in such a ludicrous light, that he was so mortified at the time as to declare he would no more allow a female to become a candidate for the honor of being his wife, and that he would remain unmarried to the end of his days.

Cobez, who had been near getting into disgrace himself by his repeated failures, began now to have an inkling of the true state of the case. He now understood that Bolamah would not be satisfied with a wife who was constantly casting him, her lord, into the shade by her superiority; that a companion, to please him, must be content to be his humble admirer, and that, if he ever obtained the reward, it must be by the greatest caution and skillfulness on his own part. Now Cobez had an intimate friend called Meldon, a cunning sculptor, who carried his art to the highest degree of perfection. In his perplexity to Meldon Cobez went, and told him all about Bolamah, and of his unsuccessful attempts to satisfy him, and of his own desire to make Menilla his wife, and then promised him half the reward, if he would devise and assist him in carrying out some plan to fulfill his wishes. This Meldon consented to do, and on putting their heads together, concocted a scheme so much to their satisfaction that they proceeded at once to execute it. Meldon set himself to work, and made the perfect image of a woman; it was tall, and of the most symmetrical proportions. He moulded the features so perfectly, they had the form and the very expression of life; the eyes were of the darkest hazel, soft and varying in their light; the hair, silken, glossy, and black as the wing of a raven, fell over shoulders of marble whiteness, round and polished; her bosom was made to rise and fall with the breath that he breathed from his own lips into hers; her arms dazzled one to look upon them, and the taper fingers of the slender hand were taught to move gracefully over the strings of a harp; her brows were black, and arched like a bow, her lashes long and dark. It could move its limbs, and walk about with grace and dignity, unclose the lips, smile sweetly, and softly murmur, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” When it was completed, they arrayed it in queenly robes. When Cobez saw it finished, he was so delighted with the beautiful image, he was tempted to forget Menilla forever, and throw himself at its feet; but he presently thought of the little warm heart that was beating beneath her bosom, and felt that she was ten times dearer to him than this stately, cold beauty. They gave the image the name of Fauna, and set to work to plan how to bring her to the notice of Bolamah. So they contrived at last that Cobez should represent to him that a great lady had come from far to view his splendid palace; and having obtained Bolamah’s consent to its being exhibited to her by them, they timed their visit so well as to meet Bolamah at the door as they were alighting from their chariot. Bolamah, who had so long been distinguished for his high breeding, could not allow such a magnificent lady, like a queen in her mien and dress, to pass him without the ordinary expressions of politeness. He therefore returned her graceful salutation, and gave her his arm, and with a step as calm and measured as her own, traversed with her the walks and apartments of the grounds and of the palace. Everything met her approbation. Did he show her his gardens, his paintings, or take up his lute and sing, still the sweet smile hovered around her mouth, and the words, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” were murmured from her lips, till at last Bolamah, who could no longer resist her beauty, her grace, and, above all, her appreciation of himself, fell at her feet, telling her that she of all should be the chosen one who was to share his palace and his heart; and Fauna only drooped her proud head a little lower, and still murmured softly, “Beautiful! Beautiful!” till Bolamah was quite overcome with her dignity and sweet compliance to his wishes. Cobez was in transports when he found his plan had worked so admirably. Fauna was now the constant and approved companion of Bolamah; he never was willing to have her away from him a moment, and preparations for the marriage were put forward with haste, to the great joy of Cobez, who was convinced that Bolamah was now in earnest. At last all was in readiness, and the marriage took place, at which Fauna comported herself with such dignity as to win the approbation of Bolamah and the admiration of all that looked upon her; and when she was installed as mistress of the palace, her bearing toward the guests was so queenly, yet condescending, that even the ladies, who are apt to be jealous of their own sex, declared her the most fascinating woman in the universe.

So pleased was Bolamah with Fauna, that he doubled the reward that he had offered to Cobez, because he had been the means of bringing to his notice one who was so charming, and of procuring him so much happiness. This money Cobez divided with his friend Meldon, through whose skill he had been able to obtain it, and with part of their money they purchased two cottages; and when Cobez had married Menilla, and had a family about him, Meldon was godfather to his children, and his favorite, called after him, bade fair to equal him in skill in the art which Meldon loved.

Cobez and Menilla lived very happily together—(not quite as calmly, perhaps, as Bolamah and his spouse, whose domestic peace was a proverb in the country); but when Menilla was a little capricious and wayward, Cobez only said to Meldon, “There, she shows her flesh and blood, and her warm heart,” and he never thought of envying Bolamah and Fauna in the unvarying calmness of their life.