IT is recorded in the chronicles of the Sassanians, [1] those ancient monarchs of Persia who extended their empire over the continent and islands of India, beyond the Ganges, and almost to China, that there was an illustrious prince of that powerful house, who was as much beloved by his subjects for his wisdom and prudence, as he was feared by the surrounding states, from the report of his bravery, and the reputation of his hardy and well-disciplined army. He had two sons: the elder, called Schahriar, was endowed with all the virtues of his father, nor was Schahzenan, the younger, less deserving of praise.

This king, after a reign as glorious as it was long, sunk into the tomb of his ancestors, and Schahriar ascended the throne. Although his brother was excluded by the laws of the empire from all power, and became nothing more than a subject, yet the exalted and magnificent situation of Schahriar gave rise to no envious or discontented thoughts: his whole endeavor was to please and make Schahriar happy. This was by no means difficult. The sultan, who was always fond of his brother, was delighted with his attention; and wishing that he should partake of his own power and wealth, he bestowed on him the kingdom of Great Tartary. Schahzenan went immediately and took possession of his empire, and fixed his residence at Samarcand, the chief city.

These two kings had been separated about ten years, when Schahriar, ardently wishing to see his brother, determined to send an ambassador to him, with an invitation to his court. For this purpose he fixed on his first vizier, who went with a splendid and appropriate retinue. When he approached Samarcand, Schahzenan, being acquainted with his arrival, immediately went out to meet him, with all his court most magnificently dressed for the occasion; so great was the honor paid to the minister of the sultan. The king of Tartary received him with signs of great joy; and instantly inquired after the sultan, his brother. Having satisfied his curiosity, the vizier unfolded the purpose of his embassy. Schahzenan, who was much affected at the kindness and recollection of his brother, then addressed the vizier in these words:

“Sage vizier, the sultan, my brother, does me too much honor; he could not propose any thing more agreeable to me. It is impossible that his wish to see me can exceed my anxious desire of again beholding him; time has not weakened my regard any more than his. My kingdom is tranquil, and I require only ten days to prepare for my departure: for this short time you need not have the trouble of entering the city: pitch your tents, and remain in this place: I will take care and order every refreshment and accommodation for you and your whole train,” This was immediately done; and the king had scarcely returned to his palace, when the vizier saw an immense quantity of all sorts of provisions arrive, accompanied with rare and valuable presents.

In the mean time Schahzenan made every preparation for his journey. He dispatched with celerity his most pressing business: he established a regency to govern the kingdom during his absence, and put a minister, on whose abilities and fidelity he had the firmest reliance, at the head of it. At the end of ten days every thing was ready; he took a tender leave of the queen, his consort, and accompanied by such officers as he had appointed to attend him, left Samarcand in the evening. He proceeded directly to a royal pavilion, which had been erected near the vizier’s tent. Schahzenan remained in conversation with the ambassador till about midnight; but wishing once again to embrace his queen, whom he tenderly loved, he returned privately to the palace, and went directly to her apartment, who not expecting his return, had received into her chamber one of the lowest officers of the household. They had been in bed some time, and were both in the deepest sleep.

The king, thinking how agreeably the queen, of whose affection he had no doubt, would be surprised at his unexpected return, entered the chamber without making any noise. Conceive, then, his astonishment at seeing, by the lights which are always hung in the royal apartments, another man in her arms. He stood for an instant motionless, almost doubting his own eyes. Being, however, too certain of the truth. “Have I then,” said he to himself, “scarcely left my palace, or gone from under the walls of Samarcand, before they dare thus to disgrace me? Wretch! your crime shall not go unrequited. As king, it is my duty to punish the crimes that are committed within my states; as an offended husband, I ought to sacrifice you to my just resentment.” The unfortunate monarch, yielding to his first fury, drew his scimitar, and approaching the bed, with one stroke changed their sleep into death: then taking them up one after the other, he threw them from the window into the foss that surrounded the palace.

Having thus satisfied his revenge, he went from the city as he entered, and retired to his pavilion. On his arrival, without relating what had passed to any one, he ordered the tents to be struck, and began his journey. Every thing was soon ready, and it was scarcely day-light when they commenced their march to the sound of drums and other instruments. The whole train were filled with joy, except the king, who could think of nothing but his queen’s infidelity, and he became a prey to the deepest grief and melancholy during the whole journey.

When he approached the capital of the Indies, he perceived the sultan Schahriar and all his court coming out to greet him. What joyful sensations arose in their breasts at this fraternal meeting! They alighted and ran into each other’s arms: after a thousand expressions of regard, they remounted, and entered the city amidst the acclamations of the surrounding multitude. The sultan conducted the king, his brother, to a palace, which had been prepared for him. It communicated by a garden with his own; and was even more magnificent, as it was the spot where all the fÊtes and splendid entertainments of the court were given; and it was now even increased in splendour by new and brilliant ornaments.

Schahriar immediately left the king of Tartary, in order that he might have time to bathe and change his dress; on his return from the bath he went immediately to him again. They seated themselves on a sofa, and as the courtiers, through respect, stood at a considerable distance, these two brothers conversed with each other at their ease, after so long an absence; and seemed even more united by affection than blood. They ate together at supper, and after their repast they again conversed, till Schahriar, perceiving the night far advanced, left his brother to repose.

The unfortunate Schahzenan retired to his couch; but if the presence of the sultan had for a while suspended his grief, it now returned with redoubled force. Instead of enjoying that rest he was so much in want of, the most agonizing reflection dwelt upon his mind. Every circumstance of his queen’s infidelity presented itself to his imagination with such violence, that it almost deprived him of his reason. Not being able to sleep, he arose, and giving way to these afflicting thoughts, they made such a deep impression of sorrow on his countenance, that the sultan could not fail of remarking it. “What cause of complaint,” thought he, “can the king of Tartary have? He cannot object the reception I have given him. I have received him as a brother whom I tenderly love; and I cannot reproach myself with any thing. Perhaps he feels a regret at the distance he is from his kingdom and his consort? If that indeed afflicts him, I must hasten the presents I am preparing for him, that he may set out, whenever he pleases, on his return to Samarcand.” This he immediately set about; and sent a part of the presents even the next day. These were composed of every thing rare, singular, and valuable, that India could produce. In the mean time the sultan endeavoured to amuse his brother by every species of pleasure; but the most splendid entertainments and gayest fÊtes only served to increase his melancholy.

Schahriar having one morning given orders for a grand hunting party, at the distance of two days journey from the city, in a part of the country where there were plenty of stags, Schahzenan requested permission to remain in his palace, excusing himself on account of a slight indisposition. The sultan wishing to please him, gave him his choice, and went with all his court to partake of the sport. The king of Tartary was no sooner alone, than he shut himself up in his apartment. He seated himself at a window that looked over the garden; the view from thence, and the melody of the multitudes of birds, which had chosen that beautiful spot for their retreat, must have excited pleasant sensations in his breast, if he had been capable of feeling them: but totally absorbed and overwhelmed with the dreadful recollection of the queen’s infamous conduct, he more frequently lifted his eyes to heaven, complaining of his wretched fate, than fixed them on the beauties of the spot.

He remained thus occupied with his own melancholy thoughts, when his attention was roused by the following event. A secret door of the sultan’s palace suddenly opened, and out came twenty females; in the midst of whom were the sultana, who was easily distinguished by her superior manner. This princess, supposing the king of Tartary was engaged in the chase, approached without fear, even to the very windows of his apartments. The prince wishing, through curiosity, to observe them, placed himself at the window so as to see every thing that passed, without being at all seen. They who accompanied the sultana immediately threw off the long robes which they had first appeared in, and which entirely hid their faces. How great was his astonishment, when he saw, in this party, which he supposed to consist only of women, ten blacks, who each selected a mistress. Nor did the sultana, on her part, remain long without her lover. Clapping her hands, she called out, “Masoud, Masoud!” and another black instantly descended from a tree, and ran towards her.

Decency forbids us to enter into a detail of their conduct, nor is it at all necessary. Schahzenan saw enough to convince him that his brother had not less reason to complain than himself. The amusements of this amorous party lasted till midnight: they then bathed altogether in a large piece of water, and having put on their habits, they returned to the palace by the same secret door; and Masoud, who had come over the wall of the garden, escaped in the same way.

The whole of these transactions, which passed under his own eyes, caused many reflections in the king’s mind. “How absurd,” said he, “to think, that my misfortune is singular and uncommon! It is the inevitable destiny of all husbands, since even the sultan, my brother, the sovereign of so many states, the greatest monarch in the world, cannot avoid it. What weakness then in me to be thus affected at my own lot, and remain a prey to melancholy: it shall be so no longer. The recollection of a misfortune so common to all men, shall vex me no more, nor disturb my repose.” In short, from this moment, he ceased to repine. He had delayed going to supper till the whole of this extraordinary scene was over; he then ordered it to be brought, and eat with a better appetite than he had before done since his departure from Samarcand, and even enjoyed a fine concert that was performed during the repast.

From this time he resumed his former good humour, and when he heard of the sultan’s return, he went and paid his respects to him, with an air of gaiety and satisfaction. Schahriar, at first, took no notice of this change. He thought only of hinting at the refusal of his brother to accompany him to the chase; and without allowing him time to reply, he gave him an account of the great number of stags and other animals they had hunted, and the pleasure it had afforded. Schahzenan, having listened with great attention, took his turn to speak. As melancholy or chagrin no longer clouded his mind, his natural vivacity and wit became apparent in a thousand lively sallies.

The sultan, who expected to find him in the same state in which he left him, was delighted with his gaiety. “I thank heaven, my brother,” he cried, “for the happy change which has taken place during my absence. I am indeed truly rejoiced at it; but I have one favor to request, that I trust you will not refuse me.”—“What can I refuse you,” replied Schahzenan, “you may command me in every thing. Speak; I am impatient to know what you wish of me.”—“Since you have been at my court,” resumed the sultan, “I have only seen you a prey to the most gloomy melancholy, which I have tried, but in vain, to dissipate by every species of amusement in my power. I thought that your grief might arise from the distance you were from your kingdom; I imagined, also, that love might have its share, and that the queen of Samarcand, whom you had selected for her incomparable beauty, was partly the cause. I know not whether my conjectures were right or wrong, and it was for this very reason, and from the fear of displeasing you, that I did not importune you. Soon after, without my having in the least contributed to it, I find you, on my return from a hunting party, in the highest spirits; your mind quite free from that dark cloud which hung over it, and prevented all enjoyment. Tell me then, I intreat you, why you were so melancholy, and why you are so no longer?”

At this speech the king of Tartary mused for some time, meditating what to answer. At length he said, “you are my sultan and my master, yet do not, I beg of you, compel me to give you the satisfaction you demand.”—“Yes, yes, my brother,” cried the sultan, “you must comply; I wish it, do not therefore refuse me.”—Schahzenan could no longer resist his intreaties. “Well then, my brother,” said he, “since you command it, you shall be satisfied.” He then related the infidelity of the queen of Samarcand; and when he had finished his recital, “This,” continued he, “was the cause of my melancholy, was it not a sufficient one?”—“Oh, my brother,” cried the sultan, in a voice that shewed how much he sympathised with him, “what a dreadful tale have you unfolded to me! with what impatience have I listened to you. I praise you for having punished the wretches; and no one can reproach you for it; as it is only just. And I own, had I been in your place, I should perhaps have been less easily satisfied. I should not have been contented with taking away the life of one woman, but should have sacrificed a thousand to my resentment. I am not astonished at your melancholy; the cause was too powerful and acute not to yield to it. Heavens! what an adventure: your fate surely is most singular, nor can have ever happened to any one besides. Since, however, it has pleased God to afford you consolation, and as I am sure that it is equally as well founded as was the cause of your grief, inform me, I beg, of that also, and make me acquainted with the whole.”

Upon this point Schahzenan was in more difficulty than before, from the interest his brother seemed to take in it; but he was obliged to comply with his earnest request: “I am going to obey you,” said he, “since you absolutely require it; yet I fear my compliance will cause you more pain than even I have felt; but you must attach the fault to yourself alone, since you compel me to reveal what I wished to remain buried in eternal oblivion.”—“What you tell me,” interrupted Schahriar, “only heightens my curiosity; hasten to discover this secret, whatever may be its nature.” The king of Tartary, being no longer able to prevent it, detailed the whole that he had seen; the disguises of the blacks, the conduct of the sultana and her women; nor was Masoud forgotten. “After having witnessed this infamous scene,” continued he, “I began to think that all women were naturally of this disposition, and were unable to resist their inclinations. I was no sooner of this opinion, than it appeared to me a great weakness in any man to suffer his happiness to rest on their fidelity. This reflection produced many others, and I was, at length, convinced, that it was best to think of it no more. It has cost me some trouble, but I have accomplished it; and if you are of my opinion, you will follow my example.”

Notwithstanding the excellence of this advice, the sultan was unable to follow it. “What,” said he, furiously, “is it possible that the sultana of the Indies is capable of such base prostitution? No, no, my brother, I cannot believe what you have told me, unless I were to see it myself. It is a deception; you have been imposed upon; and it is too important a matter not to require positive proof.”—“If,” replied Schahzenan, “you wish to be witness to the fact, it will not be difficult to accomplish it. You have only to give orders for another hunting party, and after we have both left the city, with the court in our train, we will remain in our pavilions during the day, and at night we will return alone into my apartment. I am too certain that you will, during the next day, observe what I have before seen.” The sultan approved of the plan, and immediately ordered the party, so that the pavilions were erected that very day in the appointed place.

The two princes set out on the following morning with all their train. They arrived at the camp, and remained there till night. Schahriar then called his grand vizier, and without discovering his intention, commanded him to take his place during his absence, and to suffer no person to leave the camp upon any account whatever. As soon as the sultan had given these orders, he and his brother got on their horses, passed unknown through the camp, entered the city, and went directly to the palace occupied by Schahzenan. They then retired to rest, but rose early in the morning, and took their station at the same window where the king of Tartary had observed the former scene with the blacks. They enjoyed the freshness of the morning, for the sun had not yet risen; and during their conversation they frequently cast their eyes towards the secret door. At length it was opened, and to sum up all in a few words, the sultana, with her women, and the ten disguised blacks, instantly appeared, and having called Masoud, the sultan was soon too fatally convinced of his disgraceful misfortune. “Oh God!” he cried, “what indignity, what horror! is it possible, that the wife of so powerful a sovereign as I am, can be capable of such infamy. What prince, after this, can dare to call himself happy. Ah, my brother,” added he, embracing him, “let us renounce the world; fidelity is banished from it, and if it flatters us one moment, it betrays us the next. Let us leave our dominions and all the pomp that surrounds us, and in foreign kingdoms pass an obscure life, and endeavour to conceal our disgrace.” Schahzenan did not approve of this plan; but seeing the agony which his brother was then in, he dared not oppose it. “I have no other will than yours, my brother,” replied he, “I am ready to follow you wherever you please; but promise me, that you will return whenever you meet with any one who shall be more unfortunate than we are.”—“I do promise you,” replied the sultan, “but I very much doubt whether we shall ever meet with such a one.”—“I am of a different opinion,” added the king of Tartary, “and our journey may be shorter than you expect.”—They then departed secretly from the palace, and took a different road from that by which they came. They travelled as long as it was light, and passed the first night under some trees. As soon as the morning broke, they got up and resumed their journey, till they came to a beautiful meadow near the sea-shore, along which, at certain distances, were some very large and thick trees. They seated themselves under one of them to rest and take some refreshment, during which the infidelity of their respective queens became the subject of their discourse.

They had not long conversed together, when they heard a most horrible noise very near them, towards the sea; and a sudden loud and lamentable cry that filled them with dread. The sea itself immediately opened, and they observed an immense black column rising out of it, whose top seemed lost in the clouds. This sight redoubled their fears; they instantly got up, and climbed to the top of a tree, which appeared likely to conceal them. They were scarcely got there, when looking towards the spot from whence the noise came, and where the sea had opened, they observed, that the black column unfolded itself, as it were, and approached the shore. For a moment, they could not conceive what it was, but it very soon became evident.

It was one of those wicked genii who are the avowed enemies to mankind. He was black and hideous, and in form like an immense giant. He carried on his head a large glass case, secured by four locks of bright steel. With this he came into the meadow, and set it down at the foot of the very tree in which the princes were hidden. They, knowing the great danger they were in, gave themselves up for lost.

This wicked genius then sat down near the case, and having opened it with four keys, which were suspended from his girdle, a female, superbly dressed, of a fine figure and incomparable beauty, immediately came out. The monster made her sit by his side, and casting an amorous look at her, he said, “Lady, thou most accomplished of all that are admired for their beauty, whom I carried away on the very day of thy nuptials, and to whom I have been continually constant since, suffer me to repose a few moments near thee; feeling myself overcome with sleep, I sought this place to indulge in a little rest.” Having said this, he let his immense head fall on her lap; and stretching out his legs, which extended almost to the sea, he immediately fell asleep, and began to snore, till the very shore echoed with the noise.

The lady, raising her eyes by chance, perceived the princes in the tree, and immediately made a sign with her hand for them to come down without making any noise. When they found they were thus discovered, their fears became more violent. They entreated her, by signs, to permit them to remain where they were; but she, on the contrary, having gently lifted up the giant’s head, and placed it softly on the ground, got up, and said to them in a low but animated voice, “Descend; it is absolutely necessary that you should come down to me.” In vain did they endeavour, by various methods, to make her comprehend how much they dreaded her hideous companion:—“Come down,” continued she, in the same tone, “for if you hesitate, I will wake him, and request him to destroy you.”

These words so much alarmed them, that they began to descend, though with all possible precaution. When they were on the ground, the lady took them by the hand, and leading them among some trees, she directly made a proposal to them of a nature not the most modest. At first they refused her; but she obliged them by fresh threats to comply with her wishes. Having gratified her inclination, she observed, that they had each a ring on their fingers, which she requested of them. She had no sooner received them, than taking a small box out of a parcel, that contained her wardrobe, she drew from it a string of rings of various sorts, and shewing it to the princes, said, “Do you know what this means?”—“We do not,” they answered, “but it remains for you to inform us.”—“They are,” she replied, “the rings of all those on whom I have bestowed my favors. There are exactly ninety-eight, and yours, which I have requested for that purpose, will make a hundred, which I wished to accomplish. Observe,” continued she, “the hundred lovers that I have now had, in spite of all the precautions and vigilance of this wretch, who never quits me. Let him shut me up in his glass case, and conceal me at the bottom of the sea, if he pleases, I will not fail to make his caution useless. You may know by this, that when once a female has formed any scheme, neither husband nor lover can prevent its accomplishment. Men had better put no restraint upon women, and it would be the means of preserving them chaste.” The lady, having said this, added their rings to the list. She then seated herself as before, replaced the head of the genius upon her lap, and made a sign to the princes to depart.

They immediately retreated by the same road They came, and when they were out of sight of the lady and her formidable companion, Schahriar said to Schahzenan, “what think you, brother, of this adventure which hath happened to us? Has not this genius got a truly faithful mistress? Do you not agree, that nothing can equal the malice of women? “I do,” replied the king of Tartary, “and you must allow also, that the genius has much more to complain of, and is more unfortunate than we are. Since, therefore, we have found what we were in search of, let us return to our dominions, and not suffer this to prevent us from forming a fresh marriage. With respect to myself, I know by what method I expect to preserve inviolate the fidelity I think due to me. I will not now explain myself, but you shall one day learn; and I have no doubt but you will follow my example.” The sultan was of the same opinion as his brother, and pursuing their journey, they arrived, towards the end of the third night, at the camp.

The news of the sultan’s return being known, the courtiers hastened early in the morning to the royal pavilion. He received them in a more lively manner than usual, and gratified all of them by his gracious reception. He then declared, that he should proceed no further, and ordering them to mount, he immediately set out on his return.

The sultan was no sooner arrived, than he hastened to the apartment of the sultana. He ordered her to be bound, and having delivered her to his grand vizier, he commanded him to have her strangled. This sentence was executed by him without enquiring into the crime for which she suffered. The indignant prince did not stop here; he beheaded all the sultana’s women with his own hand. After this rigorous proceeding, being persuaded that a truly virtuous woman did not exist, he resolved, in order to prevent a possibility of infidelity for the future, to marry every night, and have his mistress strangled in the morning. Having imposed this cruel law upon himself, he swore to observe it immediately on the departure of the king, his brother; who soon after took his leave, and returned to his own kingdom, loaded with the most magnificent presents.

When Schahzenan was gone, the sultan failed not to order his grand vizier to bring him the daughter of one of his generals. The vizier obeyed; and the sultan, having passed the night with her, delivered her into the hands of the vizier for execution, and commanded him to procure another against the following night. However repugnant these commands might be to the vizier, he was obliged to submit. He then brought the sultan the daughter of a subaltern officer, who, as usual, suffered death the next morning. The next was the daughter of a citizen. And thus every day a maiden was married, and every day a wife was sacrificed.

The report of this unexampled inhumanity spread a universal consternation through the city. In one place a wretched father was in tears for the loss of his daughter; in another, the air resounded with the groans of tender mothers, who dreaded lest the same fate should attend their offspring. In this manner, instead of the praises and blessings with which, till now, they loaded their monarch, all his subjects poured out imprecations on his head.

The grand vizier, who, as has been mentioned, was the unwilling agent of this horrid injustice, had two daughters; the elder was called ScheherazadÈ, and the youngest DinarzadÈ. The latter was by no means deficient in merit; but ScheherazadÈ was possessed of a degree of courage beyond her sex, joined to an extent of knowledge and degree of penetration that was truly astonishing. She had read much, and was possessed of so great a memory, that she never forgot any thing she had once perused. She had applied also, with much success, to philosophy, to medicine, to history, and to the arts; and made better verses than the most celebrated poets of the time. Besides this, her beauty was incomparable; and her virtuous disposition crowned all those valuable qualities.

The vizier was passionately fond of so deserving a daughter. As they were conversing together one day, she addressed him in these words: “I have a favor to ask of you, my father; and I entreat you not to refuse me.”—“I will not refuse you,” replied he, “provided the request be just and reasonable.”—“It is impossible,” added ScheherazadÈ, “to be more just, as you will judge from the motives I have in making it. My design is to put a stop to this dreadful barbarity which the sultan exercises over the inhabitants of this city. I wish to dispel the just apprehension which all mothers entertain for the safety of their daughters.”—“Your intention, my child” said the vizier, “is very laudable; but the evil which you wish to cure seems to me without a remedy; how would you set about it?”—“Since, by your means,” replied ScheherazadÈ, “the sultan celebrates a fresh marriage every day, I conjure you, by the tender affection you have for me, to procure me the honor of his bed.” This speech filled the vizier with horror. “O God!” cried he eagerly, “have you lost your senses, my daughter, that you make me so dangerous a request? Do you know, that the sultan has solemnly sworn, he will receive no one to his bed but for one night; and that he regularly orders her to be carried to execution in the morning? Can you then think of being allied to him? Recollect to what your indiscreet zeal exposes you.”—“Yes, my father,” replied this virtuous damsel, “I am aware of the danger I run, but it does not deter me from my purpose. If I die, my death will be glorious; and, if I succeed, I shall render my country an important service.”—“No, no,” replied the vizier, “do not suppose, that any thing you can urge will induce me to comply with your wishes, and put you in so dreadful a situation. Can I, alas! obey the sultan, when he orders me to plunge a poniard into your bosom. What horrible employment for a father! If you do not yourself fear death, at least hesitate to inflict on me the pain of being the wretched instrument, and embruing my hand with your blood.”—“Still, my father,” said ScheherazadÈ, “I implore you to grant my request.”—“Your obstinacy,” replied he, “excites my anger; why can you wish thus to rush to your own destruction? They who do not look forward to the end of a dangerous enterprise, know not how to bring it to a fortunate conclusion. The same thing will, I fear, happen to you, which did to the ass, who was well off, yet could not keep so.”—“What happened to the ass?” replied ScheherazadÈ. “Listen to me,” answered the vizier, “and I will relate the story.”