CHAPTER III.

On the following morning the third Vizier presented himself before the

King, and, having paid his respects, expressed many apprehensions that

the indulgence shown to Bakhtyār might prove of dangerous consequences,

by encouraging other criminals, and strongly advised his speedy

execution. The King, having sent for Bakhtyār, the executioner prepared

to blindfold him; but he petitioned for mercy, and said: “The

imprisonment of suspected persons is certainly a just measure, as the

guilt or innocence of the prisoner will probably be ascertained in the

course of time; but if a King will not have patience, but punish without

due investigation of the offence, what can result from such precipitancy

but affliction and repentance? Thus it happened to a son of the King of

Aleppo, whose impatience occasioned the loss of that kingdom, and

infinite misery.”

The King’s curiosity being excited, he desired Bakhtyār to relate the

story of the Impatient Prince of Aleppo; and Bakhtyār, having kissed the

ground of obedience, thus began:

STORY OF THE IMPATIENT PRINCE OF ALEPPO.

The King of Aleppo was an upright and generous monarch, who protected

strangers and permitted not any person to oppress or insult another; and

he had a son named Bihzād, a young man of excellent genius, polite

accomplishments, and many good qualities; but so very impatient, that he

would not admit a moment’s delay in the gratification of any desire,

whatsoever might be the consequences of his rash haste.

It happened once, that, being seated with several of his companions, he

desired one of them to relate his adventures. The young man accordingly

began his story in the following words:

“About two years ago, being in possession of considerable wealth, I

purchased several beasts of burthen, and, having loaded them with

various commodities, I undertook a journey, but on the way was attacked

by robbers, who plundered me of all my property, and I proceeded with a

disconsolate heart until night came on, and I found myself in a place

without any vestige of inhabitants. I took shelter beneath a great tree,

and had remained there for some time, when I perceived a light, and

several persons who passed by with much festivity and mirth. After them

came some who held vessels full of burning incense, so very fragrant,

that the desert was perfumed by its delightful odour. When they had

passed on, a magnificent litter appeared, before which walked several

damsels holding torches, scented with ambergris. In this litter was

seated a fair one, of such exquisite beauty, that the radiance of her

charms far exceeded the light of the torches, and quite dazzled my

fascinated eyes.”

When the young man had advanced thus far in his narrative, Bihzād began

to show symptoms of impatience, having fallen in love with the lady,

though unseen. The young man continued his story, and said:

“The next morning I proceeded on my journey, and arrived at the city of

Rūm, the capital and residence of the Kaisar, or Greek Emperor; and

having made inquiries, I was informed that the beautiful damsel whom I

had seen was the Princess Nigārīn, daughter of the Kaisar, who had a

villa at a little distance from the city, to which she sometimes went

for recreation.”

Here the young man concluded his narrative, and Prince Bihzād

immediately arose and hastened to the house of the vizier, and said:

“You must go this moment to my father, and tell him that if he is

solicitous about my happiness, he will provide me a wife without delay.”

The vizier accordingly went to the palace and informed the King of

Bihzād’s wishes. The King desired the vizier to assure the Prince that

he only waited to find a suitable match for him; but that, if he had

fixed his affections on any fair object, he would do everything in his

power to obtain her for him.

This being reported to Bihzād, he sent back the vizier with another

message to the King, informing him that the object of his choice was the

Princess Nigārīn, the lovely daughter of the Kaisar of Rūm, and

requesting that ambassadors might be sent to ask her in marriage for

him. The King replied to this message, and said: “Tell Bihzād that it

were in vain for me to send ambassadors on such an errand to the Kaisar:

he is the powerful Emperor of Rūm, and I am only a petty sovereign of

Aleppo; we are of different religions and of different manners; and

there is not any probability that he would comply with our demand.”

The vizier returned to Bihzād, and delivered him this message from his

father. The impatient Prince immediately declared that, if the King

would not send ambassadors to solicit the Kaisar’s daughter in marriage

for him, he would set out on that errand himself.

The King, being informed of his son’s resolution, sent for the Prince,

whom he loved with a tender affection, and at last consented that

ambassadors should be despatched to Rūm. The Kaisar received with due

respect the ambassadors from the King of Aleppo; but when they disclosed

the object of their mission, he replied, with great indignation, and

informed them, that no one should obtain his daughter without paying the

sum of one hundred lacs of dīnars (or pieces of gold); and that whoever

should consent to pay that sum might become her husband.

The ambassadors returned to Aleppo, and related to the King all that the

Kaisar had said. “Did I not tell you,” said the King to Bihzād, “that

the Greek Emperor would refuse his consent to so unequal a match?”—“He

has not refused his consent,” replied Bihzād; “but he requires money,

which must be immediately sent.”—The King declared that he could not

make up so considerable a sum; but, at Bihzād’s request, having

collected all his wealth, he found he possessed thirty lacs. Bihzād then

urged him to sell his male and female slaves, and all his household

goods. Having done so, he found that they produced twenty lacs.

Then Bihzād advised the King to make up the requisite sum, by compelling

his subjects to contribute their money; but the King was not willing to

distress his people. However, by the persuasion of Bihzād, he extorted

from them an additional sum of twenty lacs. Having thus collected

seventy lacs of dīnars, Bihzād proposed that they should be immediately

transmitted to the Kaisar of Rūm. Letters were accordingly written, and

messengers despatched with the money, who were instructed to say, that

the remaining sum of thirty lacs should speedily be sent after. When

these messengers arrived at Rūm, they presented the letters and gifts to

the Kaisar, with the money. He treated the messengers with great

respect, accepted the money, and agreed to the proposed conditions;

after which they returned to Aleppo, and reported their success. Bihzād

then urged his father to collect by any means the thirty lacs of dīnars

still deficient, either by a forced loan from the merchants, or by

taxing the peasants of the country; but the King advised him to be

patient, and wait until they should recover from the effects of the late

exactions; and said: “You have already rendered me poor, and now you

wish to complete my ruin, and occasion the loss of my kingdom.”

Bihzād desired his father to keep his kingdom, and declared his

intention of setting out immediately. The King, much afflicted at the

thought of his son’s departure, entreated him to wait one year, that the

people might forget the sums they had already paid; but Bihzād would not

consent. The King then begged that he would be patient for six months;

this also he refused.—“Wait even three months,” said his father.—“I

cannot wait three days,” said the impatient youth. On which the King,

disgusted with such obstinacy, desired his son to go wherever he

pleased. Bihzād immediately retired; and, having clothed himself in

armour, with two confidential servants set out upon his journey.

It happened that one morning they overtook a caravan, consisting of a

hundred camels loaded with valuable commodities, proceeding on the way

to Rūm. The chief of this caravan was a man of considerable wealth, with

a numerous train of attendants, and he was held in great esteem by the

Kaisar. When Bihzād and his two companions espied the caravan, they

rushed forward with loud shouts, but were instantly seized, and their

hands and feet bound: they were then brought before the chief, who

ordered that they should be flung upon a camel. When they arrived at

Rūm, the chief took Bihzād to his own house, and kept him confined for

three days.

On the third day, having looked attentively at his prisoner, he

discovered in his air and manner something that bespoke his princely

origin and education. He inquired into the circumstances of his

adventure, but Bihzād answered only with tears. The chief then said: “If

you tell me the truth of this affair, I will set you free; and if you do

not, I shall inform the Kaisar of your offence, and he will cause you to

be hanged.”

Bihzād, not knowing what else to do, related his whole history to the

chief of the caravan, who, moved with compassion, desired him not to

despair, for he would lend him the thirty lacs of dīnars, and procure

him the Kaisar’s daughter, on condition of his being repaid whenever

Bihzād should become king.

To this Bihzād gladly consented; and the chief, having unloosed his

fetters, clothed him in royal garments, and dressed his servants also in

splendid attire; and having given him thirty lacs of dīnars, he led him

to the palace: then he left Bihzād at the door, whilst he himself went

in and informed the Kaisar that the Prince of Aleppo was waiting for the

honour of presenting to his Majesty the thirty lacs of dīnars, which he

had brought sealed up.

The Kaisar consented to receive Bihzād, who, on being introduced, paid

due homage, and was treated with great kindness, and placed by the

Kaisar’s side. After much conversation, the Kaisar desired him to

declare the object of his wishes, and promised that, whatever it might

be, he would endeavour to procure it for him. Bihzād replied, that his

only desire in this world was to obtain the Princess for his wife. The

Kaisar begged that he would wait ten days; but to this delay he would

not consent. The Kaisar then entreated that he would be patient for five

days; and this also he refused to do.—“At least,” said the Kaisar, “wait

three days, that the women may have time to make the necessary

preparations.” But Bihzād would not consent.—“This one day, however,”

then said the Kaisar, “you must be patient, and to-morrow you shall

espouse my daughter.”—“Since it must be so,” replied Bihzād, “I’ll wait

this day, but no longer.”

The Kaisar gave orders that the Princess should be brought to the garden

of the palace, and all the nobles assembled, and banquets provided for

the entertainment of Bihzād. When night came, Bihzād, having indulged in

wine, became impatient to behold the Princess, and, going to the

summer-house, in which she was, he discovered an aperture in the wall,

to which he applied his eye. The Princess at that moment happened to

perceive the aperture, and found that some person was looking at her

through it. She immediately ordered her attendants to burn out his eyes

with red-hot irons.

This order was put in execution without delay. The unhappy Bihzād,

crying aloud, fell on the ground, deprived of sight. His voice being at

length recognised, the servants ran out and beheld him rolling in agony

on the ground. They exclaimed, and tore their hair, but all in vain. The

news was brought to the Kaisar, who said: “What can be done? This silly

youth has brought the evil on himself by his own impatience, and has

occasioned the loss of his own eyes.” He then directed that Bihzād

should be sent back to Aleppo, as he could not give his daughter to a

person deprived of sight.

When the unhappy youth returned to Aleppo, his father and mother, and

the inhabitants of the city, all wept at his misfortunes; but their

compassion was of no avail. After some time the King died; but the

people introduced a stranger, and placed him on the throne, saying that

a blind man was not capable of governing. And the remainder of Bihzād’s

life passed away in misery, and in repentance for his rashness and

impatience.

“Now,” added Bakhtyār, “had that unfortunate young man waited until

night, the Princess Nigārīn would have been his, and he would have saved

his eyes and his kingdom, and not have had occasion to repent of

impatience. If the King will send me back to prison, he will not be

sorry for the delay, as my innocence will hereafter appear; and if he

hasten my execution, any future repentance will not avail.”

The King ordered Bakhtyār to go back to prison for that day.