For my part, I spent the day in great uneasiness; and when night came, opening a little back gate, I espied a boat driven along by the stream.  Calling to the waterman, I desired him to row up the river, to see if he could not meet a lady, and, if he found her, to bring her along with him.  The two slaves and I waited impatiently for his return; and at length, about midnight, we saw the boat coming down with two men in it, and a woman lying along in the stern.  When the boat came up, the two men helped the woman to rise; and then it was that I knew her to be Schemselnihar.  I rejoiced so greatly to see her, that I cannot sufficiently express myself.

I gave my hand to Schemselnihar to help her out of the boat.  She had no small occasion for my assistance, for she could hardly stand.  When she was ashore, she whispered me in the ear in an afflicted tone, bidding me go and take a purse of a thousand pieces of gold, and give to the soldiers who had waited on her.  I obeyed, leaving her to be supported by the two slaves; and, having paid the waterman, shut the back door.

I then followed my lady, who was hardly got to her chamber before I overtook her.  We undressed her, and put her to bed, where she had not long been before she was ready to give up the ghost; in which condition she continued the remainder of the night.  The day following, her other women expressed a great desire to see her; but I told them she had been much fatigued, and wanted rest to restore her.  The other women and I, nevertheless, gave her all the assistance we possibly could.  She persisted in swallowing nothing which we offered; and we must have despaired of her life, had I not persuaded her to take a spoonful or two of wine, which had a sensible effect on her.  By mere importunity, we at length prevailed upon her to eat also.

When she came to the use of her speech, for she had hitherto only mourned, groaned, and sighed, I begged her to tell me how she escaped out of the hands of the thieves.  Why should you require of me, said she, with a profound sigh, what will but renew my grief?  Would to God the thieves had taken away my life, rather than preserved it, as in that case my misfortunes would have had an end; whereas I now live but to increase my torment.

Madam, replied I, I beg you will not refuse me this favour.  You cannot but know that unhappy people have a certain consolation in venting their misfortunes; and if you be pleased to relate yours, I doubt not that you will find some relief in so doing.

Why then, said she, lend your ear to a story the most afflicting that can be imagined.  You must know, when I first saw the thieves entering with sword in hand, I believed it the last moment of my life:  but dying did not then seem so shocking to me, since I thought I was to die with the prince of Persia.  However, instead of murdering, two of the thieves were ordered to take care of us, whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods which they found in the house.  When they had done, and had got their bundles upon their backs, they went away, carrying us along with them.