The princess would not give him leave to go on, but cried out, Alas, you bring me the deplorable news of my son’s death!  At which words she and her women set up such a hideous outcry, as soon brought fresh tears into the jeweller’s eyes.  She thus tormented and grieved herself a long while before the unfortunate messenger was allowed to go on.  At length, however, she gave a truce to her sighs and groans, and begged of him to continue the fatal relation, without concealing from her the least circumstance.  He did as she commanded; and, when he had done, she further demanded of him, if her son the prince had not given him in charge something more particular.  He assured her his last words were, that it was the greatest concern to him that he must die so far distant from his dear mother, and that he earnestly entreated she would be pleased to have his corpse transported to Bagdad.  Accordingly, next morning at day-break, the princess set out, with her women and great part of her slaves, to bring her son’s body to her own palace.

The jeweller, having taken leave of her, returned home very sad and melancholy, to think he had lost so good a friend, and so accomplished a prince, in the flower of his age.

As he came near his house, dejected and musing, on a sudden lifting up his eyes, he saw a woman in mourning and tears standing before him.  He presently knew her to be the confident, who had stood there grieving for some time that she could not see him.  At the sight of her, his tears began to flow afresh, but he said nothing to her; and, going into his own house, she followed him.

They sat down, when the jeweller, beginning the dismal discourse, asked the confident, with a deep sigh, if she had heard nothing of the death of the prince of Persia, or if it was on his account that she grieved?  Alas! answered she; what! is that charming prince then, dead?  He has not lived long after his dear Schemselnihar.  Beauteous souls! continued she, in whatsoever place ye now are, ye ought to be pleased that your loves will no more be interrupted.  Your bodies were before an obstacle to your wishes; but now, being delivered from them, you may unite as closely as you please.

The jeweller, who had heard nothing of Schemselnihar’s death, and had not observed that the confident was in mourning, through the excessive grief that blinded him, was now afflicted anew.  Is Schemselnihar then dead? cried he, in great astonishment.  She is dead, replied the confident, weeping afresh; and it is for her that I wear these weeds.  The circumstances of her death are extraordinary, continued she; therefore it is but requisite you should know them; but, before I give you an account of them, I beg you to let me know those of the prince of Persia, whom, in conjunction with my dearest friend and mistress, I shall lament as long as I live.