As soon as Balkis appeared, Aboulcasem rose to receive her. He made her a profound reverence, put out his hand to her with a respectful air and having obliged her to seat herself on the sofa he asked her why she had done him the honour of coming to see him. She replied, that from his reputation of being a very gallant young man, the fancy had taken her to join in a revel with him. At the same time she removed her veil and dazzled his eyes with a beauty which surprised him. In spite of his indifference to women he could not with impunity look upon so much charm. He was affected by it.

‘Beautiful lady,’ he said, ‘I thank my lucky star for having procured me so agreeable an adventure. I cannot enough rejoice in my happi­ness.’

After some minutes’ conversation the supper-hour arrived. They both went and seated them­selves at a table on which were several different dishes. A great number of pages and officers were there; but Aboulcasem made them retire, so that the lady might not be exposed to their glances. He proceeded to wait on her; he offered her everything of the best and poured out for her excellent wine in a cup enriched with rubies and emeralds. He drank too to keep her in counte­nance, and the more he looked at Balkis the more beautiful he found her. He made gallant speeches to her, and as the lady was not less witty than beautiful, she replied so brilliantly that he was charmed by her. He threw himself at her knees at the end of the repast. He took one of her hands, and pressing it between his, ‘Lady,’ he said, ‘if your beautiful eyes dazzled me at first, your conversation has completely enchanted me. You kindle in me a fire which will never die. I wish henceforth to be your slave, and to consecrate to you all the moments of my life.’

Saying these words, he kissed the hand of Balkis with such ardour, that the lady, frightened at the pressing danger which threatened her, changed countenance suddenly. She became paler than death; and losing all control, she assumed a melancholy air and her eyes were soon bathed in tears.

‘What is the matter, madam?’ said the young man, very surprised. ‘Whence this sudden grief? What do these tears mean which penetrate my very soul? Is it I who make them flow? Am I unhappy enough to have said or done something which has displeased you? Speak! do not leave me, I beg, any longer in ignorance of the cause of this sad change in you.’

‘My lord,’ replied Balkis, ‘I can dissimulate no longer. Modesty, fear, grief, and perfidy are warring within me, so that I can endure it no longer: I am going to break silence. I am deceiving you, Aboulcasem. I am a maiden of quality. My father, who knows that you have a hidden treasure, wishes to make use of me to dis­cover the place where it is hidden. He has ordered me to come to you, and to spare nothing to get you to show it me. I wished to rebel, but he swore to me that he would take my life if I returned without having seen it. What a cruel command for me! Had I not as a lover a prince whom I love devotedly, and who is soon to marry me, the step which my father makes me take would not appear the less terrible to me. Thus, my lord, if I come to you, it is with a repugnance that the fear of death alone can surmount.’

After the daughter of Aboulfatah had thus spoken, Aboulcasem said to her: ‘Lady, I am glad that you have made known your sentiments to me. You shall not repent of this noble frank­ness. You shall see my treasure, and you shall be treated with all the respect you desire. However beautiful you are, whatever impression you have made on me, you have nothing to fear, you are here in safety. I renounce the hope I had formed of winning your love, and you can without blushing see again the happy lover, the tender interest in whom redoubles your charms. Cease, then, to shed tears and to afflict your­self.’

‘Ah, my lord!’ cried Balkis at this speech, ‘it is not without reason that you are esteemed the most generous of men. I am charmed at your noble conduct, and I shall not rest satisfied till I have found some occasion of showing my gratitude to you for it.’

After this conversation the son of Abdelaziz conducted the lady into the same room where the caliph had slept, and remained alone with her there until all was silent amongst his servants. Then, placing a bandage on the eyes of Balkis: ‘Lady,’ he said to her, ‘pardon me for treating you thus, but I can only show you my treasure on this condition.’

‘Do everything you wish, my lord,’ she replied; ‘I have so much confidence in your generosity that I will follow you wherever you wish. I have no other fear than that of not being able to suffi­ciently recognise your kindnesses.’

Aboulcasem took her by the hand, and, having descended into the garden by the hidden stairway, he led her into the underground place, where he removed her bandage. If the caliph had been surprised at seeing so many gold pieces and precious stones, Balkis was much more so. Every­thing she saw caused her extreme astonishment. Nevertheless, what most attracted her attention, and what she could not tire of looking at, were the first possessors of the treasure. She read the inscription to be seen at their feet. As the queen had a necklace of pearls as large as pigeons’ eggs, Balkis could not help exclaiming at it. Where­upon Aboulcasem detached it from the neck of the princess, and put it on that of the young lady, saying that her father would judge by that that she had seen the treasure, and so, that he might be the better persuaded of it, he begged her to take some of the finest jewels. She took a good quantity of them, which he chose himself.

However, the young man fearing that the day would break whilst she was amusing herself with looking at all the subterranean marvels, which could not tire her curiosity, he replaced the bandage on her eyes, led her out and conducted her to a room where they conversed together till sunrise. Then the lady, after having repeated to the son of Abdelaziz that she would never forget his kindness and his generosity, took leave of him, returned home, and went to give an account to her father of what had passed.

The vizir, solely absorbed in his avarice, impatiently awaited his daughter. He feared she would not be charming enough to captivate Aboulcasem.

He was in an inconceivable state of agitation. But when he saw her return with the necklace, and she showed him the jewels which the young man had given her, he was transported with joy.

‘Well, my daughter,’ he said, ‘have you seen the treasure?’

‘Yes, my lord,’ replied Balkis, ‘and to give you a just idea of it, I will tell you, that were all the kings of the earth together to unite their riches, they would not be comparable with those of Aboul­casem, but, however great may be the wealth of the young man, I am less charmed by it than by his politeness and generosity.’

At the same time she related the whole adven­ture to him. He was indifferent to the nobility of the son of Abdelaziz, and he would have preferred his daughter’s sorrow to not knowing where the treasure was which he wished to discover.

During this time Haroun-al-Raschid advanced towards Bagdad. As soon as this prince had returned to his palace he set his grand vizir at liberty, he restored him to confidence, and, after having detailed the journey to him:

‘Giafar,’ he said, ‘what shall I do? You know that the gratitude of caliphs ought to surpass the pleasure that has been given them. If I content myself by sending to the magnificent Aboulcasem what I have that is rarest and most precious in my treasury, that would be very little to him. How, then, can I outdo him in generosity?’

‘My lord,’ said the vizir, ‘if your majesty will believe me, you will write this very day to the King of Bassora to order him to remit the government of his state to the young Aboulcasem. We will imme­diately send off the courier, and in a few days I will go myself to bear the patents to the new king.’

The caliph approved of this suggestion. ‘You are right,’ he said to his minister: ‘that will be the way to acquit myself towards Aboulcasem, and to revenge myself upon the King of Bassora and his vizir, who have concealed from me that they receive considerable sums from this young man. It is even just to punish them for the violence they have done him, and they are not worthy of the places they occupy. He wrote immediately to the King of Bassora and sent off the courier. He took himself to the apartment of Zobeide to relate to her also the success of his journey, and to present to her the little page, the tree, and the peacock. He also made her a present of the maiden.

Zobeide found her so charming that, smiling, she told the emperor that she accepted this beau­tiful slave with much more pleasure than the other presents. The prince kept only the cup for himself: the vizir Giafar had all the rest, and this minister, according to his resolve, arranged everything for his departure a few days after.

The courier of the caliph was no sooner arrived in the town of Bassora than he hastened to remit his despatch to the king, who could not read it without feeling deeply pained. He showed it to his vizir: