The man of the bath proceeded onward, and Hatim followed till they had gone nearly a farasang, when a splendid structure surmounted by a lofty dome appeared before them. Arrived at the door, the guide entered the building, and motioned to Hatim to follow. Hatim entered and the attendant having conducted him to a marble cistern brimful of pure water, said to him, “Do you stand up to the middle in the water while I pour some of it over your head.” “Let me first,” said Hatim, “put off part of my clothes, for how can I enter the bath dressed as I am.” The man accordingly assisted Hatim in undressing; after which he led him into the water, and poured three jars full of the liquid over his head. On the appli­cation of the third jar of water, Hatim heard a tremendous sound, while thickest darkness enveloped the bath. As soon as the objects became visible, he looked around him, and to his utter dismay beheld the large dome converted into a solid mass of rock transparent as christal and firm as ada­mant. The floor was covered with water, which gushed from the earth, and had by that time reached the middle of his legs. The bath was every moment filling; and when the water became knee-deep, Hatim, in the utmost conster­nation, searched round and round for an outlet from his prison. His effort were fruitless, for no trace of the door remained; all around him was the same solid, smooth and transparent rock. Now the water rose to his breast while he like a maniac rushed backwards and forwards in search of a door. At length the depth of the water was such that his feet no longer reached the bottom. He then kept himself afloat the best way he could by swimming. While in this state, he could not refrain from saying to himself, “O Hatim, thy friends have uniformly dissuaded thee from this rash undertaking; but thou hast disregarded their admonitions, and hast cast thyself into calamity in spite of every warning to the contrary. Well, what will be, will be; if in the service of thy Creator thou shouldst loose a thousand lives, it is nothing.”

At length Hatim was borne up by the water to the very pinnacle of the dome. As his strength had become exhausted, he eagerly grasped the top of the dome, that he might rest a little from his toil. The moment he touched the top a deafening noise like the loudest thunder burst upon his ears, and in an instant he found himself standing in the midst of a desert. He looked all around him, but nothing met his sight except the bare earth and the silent skies. He advanced in one direction, for it seemed a matter of no moment which way he went, and he was congratulating himself on his escape from his late dangers, and considering himself clear of the enchantment. For three days and nights he thus proceeded, when he beheld at a distance a palace of lofty structure. He advanced towards it, expect­ing to find it inhabited; and on his nearer approach, he saw that the palace was surrounded by a beautiful garden. As the door was opened he entered; but he had not ven­tured far ere he thought it safe to remain without: he therefore made for the gate by which he had entered, but no trace of it could he find. He was now convinced that he had not yet got clear of the enchantment of Badgard.

Hatim, thus helpless, wandered in every direction through the garden, which abounded with flowers of every hue, and trees bearing fruit of every sort. As his hunger was extreme, he began to eat of the fruit; but his appetite was not in the least diminished. At last he ventured within the precincts of the palace, which was completely surrounded by statues of marble. The statues stood in straight lines, and the lower half of them seemed fixed in the solid rock which supported them.

Hatim stood wrapt in wonder at what he saw, and much he desired to know the secrets of that mysterious mansion. Meanwhile a bird like a parrot cried out to him from within the palace, “O Hatim, why stand you there? Why have you washed your hands of life in journeying hither?” Hatim listened to the voice of the parrot, and was about to enter the house, when he happened to cast his eyes at the inscription over the door, which ran thus: “Know, O mortal, that thou canst not escape hence with life. This is the enchanted palace of the renowned Kaiumarath, who, when hunting these regions, found a diamond weighing three hundred miskals.* He shewed this supurb diamond to his courtiers and attendants, and asked them if they could produce another to match it. They unanimously declared that the world did not contain its equal. Kaiumarath then resolved to preserve it in a place of safety, so that no one might rob him of it. For this purpose he built the bath of Badgard, the enchantment of which is all powerful. The diamond is preserved in the body of the parrot, and whosoever enters this garden shall never return, unless he get possession of the diamond. On the chair within the hall is laid a bow with arrows; let the visitor take it up and shoot three arrows at the parrot, and if he hit it right through the head, he will be able to break the enchantment; if he miss, he instantly becomes a statue of marble.”

Hatim read the inscription, and having cast a look of despair around the lifeless statues, exclaimed, “Alas Hatim! thou too art likely to remain here till the last day. Thou hast rashly perilled thy life, and thou shalt soon add one to the number of these victims. Well, thy troubles shall cease, and the silence of death is preferable to the miseries of life. But if the Almighty hath decreed that thou shouldst succeed, and that thy friend should be made happy, assuredly thou mayest yet escape.”

After this soliloquy, Hatim entered the hall, and lifted the bow and arrows from off the chair. He then took his station, applied one of the arrows to the string, and care­fully examined his distance. He drew the arrow to his shoulder and shot, but the parrot instantly leaped from the spot where he stood, and clung to the roof of his cage. The arrow missed, and straightway Hatim’s feet became a mass of marble, even up to the knees.

The parrot again resumed his former station, and said to Hatim, “Desist, rash man, ere worse befall thee.” Hatim, in the utmost despair, began to consider his dismal situa­tion, and while the tears filled his eyes, he said, “Now indeed is my life ended; but what then, is it not better to die at once, than to live in disgrace? ’Tis true my arrow has missed its aim and I am partly transformed into a block of marble. Let me try another: if I succeed, good; if not, I shall be at rest from the pangs of disappointment.” He seized a second arrow, shot and missed, for the parrot had quickly changed its place as formerly.

The parrot again called out to Hatim, “Desist, rash man, thy enterprise is beyond thy might.” Hatim had now become a lifeless statue up to the middle; but he resolved to persevere while life remained. “Now,” said he, “my hope of life is indeed small; may God preserve his creature from a similar fate. My death is near, but happen what may, I will discharge the third arrow. Whatever the Great Creator hath decreed, must come to pass.”

Hatim now placed his whole reliance upon God. He looked in the direction of the parrot, took his aim, then shut his eyes, and left fly the third arrow. In the hour of despair the hand of heaven saved him. The arrow pierced the brain of the parrot, which fell lifeless from the cage. Instantly a fearful storm of whirlwinds, thunder and lightning, burst with tremendous noise around him, while heaven and earth seemed involved in impenetrable darkness. Hatim was ter­rified, and knew not whether he was still in this world, or had entered the awful state of futurity. When the noise and disorder had ceased, he opened his eyes and looked in every direction. He no longer beheld the garden, nor the place, nor the parrot. At his feet lay the bow and arrows, and beside them a diamond of extreme brilliancy like the sun.

He rose up and seized the diamond, when instantly all the marble statutes started into life. When they saw Hatim they asked him, “Tell us who you are and how have been able to break the enchantment in which we were held?” He told them the whole occurrence; and when they heard him, they prostrated themselves at his feet, and vowed to serve him while they lived. Hatim took the rescued captives with him, and returned to the capital of Katan. On his way he met four or five of the aftendants of the bath, who, on hearing the result of his adventure, hastened before him to give the intelligence to their king. At length Hatim reached the city, and had an interview with the ruler, to whom he shewed the diamond, saying, “Sire, this jewel I present to you; but it will be necessary for me first to shew it to Husn Banu, after which it shall be returned to you. The people who accompany me are poor and destitute; be pleased, then, to furnish them with the means of subsistence till they reach their own country.” The request was liberally complied with, and the people joyfully departed. Shortly after, Hatim took leave of the king, who appointed a splendid retinue to accompany him home, and sent with him every thing requisite for the journey. Hatim accordingly set off, and without any interruption, arrived safe in Shahabad. The people rejoiced when they saw him, and forthwith con­ducted him to the gate of Husn Banu’s palace. The lady gave orders for his immediate admission, and asked of him all the occurrences of his journey.

Hatim related minutely what he had seen and suffered; and in conclusion, produced the diamond as proof. He then addressed Husn Banu, saying, “Now I have accomplished all your tasks, may I request that you will perform your promise to me.”— “I am entirely yours,” replied the lady; “dispose of me as you think proper.” Hatim gave orders for princely feast, and Husn Banu was forthwith married to the Assyrian prince Munir, and thus the two lovers reached the summit of their happiness.

After the celebration of the marriage, Hatim took leave of Munir and Husn Banu; having, agreeably to his promise, set the diamond to the prince of Katan, he took the road to Yemen. When he entered the bondaries of his native land, the whole country was one scene of joy. “Hatim,” said the people, “after long absence, has returned to his own country.” At length Hatim reached the capital of Yemen, and was affectionately received by his father and mother. His arrival was hailed with universal joy, and every house resounded with music and mirth.

Shortly after, Tai resigned the reins of government into the hands of Hatim, and lived in retirement for the remain­der of his life, which amounted to twelve years, seven months, and nine days. Hatim reigned long over Yemen; and blessed with the affection of the beautiful Zarinpash, his life passed in uninterrupted happiness.

Thus ended the seven adventures of Hatim Tai. May this defective narrative in some degree perpetuate his memory, and may his virtues be imitated by future generations.