for the service he has done you?  But why should I complain of your brothers, unfortunate Codadad!  I alone am to blame for your death.  You would join your fate with mine, and all the ill fortune that has attended me since I left my father’s palace has fallen upon you.  O Heaven! which has condemned me to lead a life of calamities, if you will not permit me to have a consort, why did you permit me to find one?  Behold you have now robbed me of two, just as I began to be attached to them.”

By these and other moving expressions, the afflicted princess of Deryabar vented her sorrow, fixing her eyes on the unfortunate Codadad, who could not hear her; but he was not dead, and his consort observing that he still breathed, ran to a large town she espied in the plain, to inquire for a surgeon.  She was directed to one, who went immediately with her; but when they came to the tent, they could not find Codadad, which made them conclude he had been dragged away by some wild beast to be devoured.  The princess renewed her complaints and lamentations in a most affecting manner.  The surgeon was moved and being unwilling to leave her in so distressed a condition, proposed to her to return to the town offering her his house and service.

She suffered herself to be prevailed on.  The surgeon conducted her to his house, and without knowing, as yet, who she was, treated her with all imaginable courtesy and respect.  He used all his endeavours to comfort her, but it was vain to think of removing her sorrow, which was rather heightened than diminished.  “Madam,” said he to her one day, “be pleased to recount to me your misfortunes; tell me your country and your condition.  Perhaps I may give you some good advice, when I am acquainted with all the circumstances of your calamity.  You do nothing but afflict yourself, without considering that remedies may be found for the most desperate diseases.”

The surgeon’s words were so efficacious, that they wrought on the princess, who recounted to him all her adventures:  and when she had done, the surgeon directed his discourse to her; “Madam,” said he, “you ought not thus to give way to your sorrow; you ought rather to arm yourself with resolution, and perform what the name and the duty of a wife require of you.  You are bound to avenge your husband.  If you please, I will wait on you as your attendant.  Let us go to the sultan of Harran’s court; he is a good and a just prince.  You need only represent to him in lively colours, how prince Codadad has been treated by his brothers.  I am persuaded he will do you justice.”  “I submit to your reasons,” answered the princess; “it is my duty to endeavour to avenge Codadad; and since you are so generous as to offer to attend me, I am ready to set out.”  No sooner had she fixed this resolution, than the surgeon ordered two camels to be made ready, on which the princess and he mounted, and repaired to Harran.