‘Couloufe, henceforth have peace of mind, and do not fear ill fortune. You will never experience its rigours, you shall not be separated from Dilara, you shall live with her at my court, and you will hold the place with me which you occupied at Caracoram with the King Mirgehan. When, on the report made to me of your fidelity to your wife, I went to see you out of curiosity, you pleased me, and the confidence you had in me finally determined me to save your life, and to leave you united for ever with the object of your love, which I wished to do in the way you have seen. The forty camels you have are taken from my stables. I have had the stuffs bought which they carried, and this Gisher who conducted them is a eunuch who rarely leaves the seraglio. I had the letter which you have received written by my own private secretary, and for fear lest the courier of Mouzaffer should come and give it the lie, I sent yesterday to meet him, on the road to Khokand, one of my officers, who ordered him from me to make to his master such a report as I wished. It is a pleasure I wished to give myself, and I have enjoyed it completely.’

As soon as the king had finished speaking Couloufe prostrated himself at the feet of the prince, thanked him for his kindness, and promised to be keenly grateful for it all his life. That very day the young man took Dilara to the palace. Usbec Kan gave them a magnificent apartment, with a considerable pension, and had the story of their loves told by the best poet in Samarcand.

The nurse of Farrukhnaz, after having thus related the story of Couloufe, stopped to hear what would be said of it by her mistress, who, always prejudiced against men, was not yet of the opinion of her women, who maintained that Abdallah had been a perfect lover.

‘No, no,’ said the princess, ‘when he was banished from the court of the King Mirgehan he left Caracoram without saying farewell to Dilara, without even trying to have speech of her. I admit the king ordered him to leave the town very abruptly, but love is ingenious and should have furnished him with means of speaking to the daughter of Boyruc if he had been very enamoured of her. And that is not the only reproach that I have to make him. Some days after his arrival at Samarcand, had he been so devoted to his lady, he would not so willingly have wedded himself to another. Moreover, as soon as he had recognised his mistress, did he not wish to repudiate her? Was he not prepared to keep his oath, and would he not have done so, if, to turn him from it, she had not had recourse to tears? A very ardent lover is not so scrupulous.’

‘Madam,’ said Sutlumemé, ‘it is true that Couloufe’s first thought was his honour, and I can­not reproach him for it. I admire, on the contrary, a young man who shows horror for perjury even in the midst of his pleasures. I think a lover of such character more estimable than another, and one can rely on his oaths. But, madam,’ she added, ‘since you are so delicate, I must relate you another story, which may put your pride at fault, and which you will perhaps find more interesting than those of Couloufe and Aboulcasem.’

At these words of the nurse, all the princess’s women uttered cries of joy, and appeared very curious to hear this new story.

Sutlumemé began it in these terms as soon as Farrukhnaz had given her permission: