which immediately appeared in my eyes and countenance.  But my surprise at receiving a favour which I had not deserved was so great, that I knew not which way to begin to testify my thankfulness for it.  In a word, after having kissed it as a valuable pledge of your goodness, I read it over and over, and was confounded at the excess of my good fortune.  You would have me to signify to you that I always love you.  Ah! though I did not love you so perfectly as I do, I could not forbear adoring you, after all the marks you have given me of a love so uncommon:  yes, I love you, my dear soul, and shall account it my glory to burn all my days with that sweet fire you have kindled in my heart.  I will never complain of the brisk ardour with which I find it consumes me; and how rigorous soever the grief be which I suffer, I will bear it corageously, in hopes to see you some time or other.  Would to Heaven it were today; and that, instead of sending you my letter, I might be allowed to come and assure you that I die for love of you!  My tears hinder me from saying any more.  Adieu.

Ebn Thaher could not read these last lines without weeping.  He returned the letter to the prince of Persia, and assured him it wanted no correction.  The prince shut it, and when he had sealed it, desired the trusty slave to come near, and told her, This is my answer to your dear mistress; I conjure you to carry it to her, and to salute her in my name.  The slave took the letter, and retired with Ebn Thaher.

After Ebn Thaher had walked some way with the slave, he left her, went to his house, and began to think in earnest upon the amorous intrigue in which he found himself unhappily engaged.  He considered that the prince of Persia and Schemselnihar, notwithstanding their interest to conceal their correspondence, managed with so little discretion, that it could not be long a secret.  He drew all the consequences from it which a man of good sense ought to do.  Were Schemselnihar, said he to himself, an ordinary lady, I would contribute all in my power to make her and her sweetheart happy; but she is the caliph’s favourite, and no man can without danger undertake to displease him.  His anger will fall at first upon Schemselnihar; it will cost the prince of Persia his life; and I shall be embarked in his misfortune.  In the mean time, I have my honour, my quiet, my family, and my estate to preserve; I must then, while I can, deliver myself out of so great a danger.

He was taken up with these thoughts all the day; next morning he went to the prince of Persia, with a design to use his utmost endeavors to oblige him to conquer his passion.  He actually represented to him what he had formerly done in vain; that it would be much better to make use of all his courage to overcome his inclinations for Schemselnihar, than to suffer himself to be conquered by it; and that his passion was so much the more dangerous, as his rival was the more potent.  In a word, sir, added he, if you will hearken to me, you ought to think of nothing but to triumph over your amour, otherwise you run a risk of destroying yourself, with Schemselnihar, whose life ought to be dearer to you than your own.  I give you this counsel as a friend, for which you will thank me some time or other.