‘I, like others, thought that my associates might be the cause of this tragic event, and I felt so grieved at it that I fell ill. I passed languishing days at Bagdad. I then sold my house and I went to live at Moussul with all the wealth I had. I took this course because I had a relation whom I loved very much, and who was attached to the first vizir of the King of Moussul. This relation received me very well, and in a little time I was known to the minister, who, thinking to perceive in me a talent for business, gave me occupation. I endeavoured to do the things he entrusted to me well, and I had the good fortune to succeed. He became day by day more pleased with me; I gained his con­fidence little by little, and I insensibly entered into the most secret affairs of State. I soon helped him to even support its weight. Some years after, this minister died, and the king, too well favoured towards me perhaps, gave me his place. I filled it for two years to the satisfaction of the king and his people. And this monarch, to show me how satisfied he was with me as a minister, called me Atalmulc. I soon saw envy armed against me. Several great lords became my secret enemies and resolved to destroy me. To better succeed, they made me an object of suspicion to the Prince of Moussul, who, allowing himself to be influenced by their bad insinuations, asked my deposition of his father. The king did not wish to consent at first, but he could not resist the pressure put upon him by his son. I left Moussul and came to Damascus, where I soon had the honour of being presented to your majesty.

‘This, sire, is the cause of the profound sadness in which I appear wrapped. The disappearance of Zelica is always present in my thoughts, and makes me insensible to pleasure. If I learnt that this princess were dead, I should perhaps lose remembrance of her, but the uncertainty of her fate makes her ever present in my memory and nourishes my grief.’

When the vizir Atalmulc had finished the story of his adventures, the king said to him: ‘I am no longer surprised that you are sad. You have just cause to be so, but everyone has not, like you, lost a princess, and you are wrong in thinking that there is not a man to be found who is perfectly content. You are greatly mistaken, and without mentioning thousands of others, I am persuaded that the Prince Seyf el Mulouk, my favourite, enjoys perfect happiness.’

‘I do not know, my lord,’ replied Atalmulc. ‘Although he appears very happy, I would not dare say he is really so.’

‘That is a point,’ cried the king, ‘on which I wish to be assured immediately.’ Saying these words, he called the captain of his guard and ordered him to go and fetch the Prince Seyf el Mulouk. The captain of the guard did so immediately. The favourite came to the apartment of the king his master, who said to him: ‘Prince, I wish to know whether you are contented with your lot?’

‘Ah! my lord,’ replied the favourite, ‘how can your majesty put that question to me? Although a stranger, I am respected in the town of Damascus; the great lords seek to please me, others pay court to me; I am the channel through which flow all your favours. In a word, you love me; what more could be wanting to my happiness?’

‘I want you to tell me the truth,’ replied the king. ‘Atalmulc maintains that there is no such thing as a happy man. I think to the contrary, I think you to be one; tell me whether I am mistaken and whether any secret sorrow taints with its bitterness the sweetness of the lot I prescribe for you. Speak, reveal your secret feeling to me here?’

‘My lord,’ then said Seyf el Mulouk, ‘since your majesty orders me to reveal my soul to you, I will tell you that, in spite of all your kindness to me, in spite of the pleasures which follow upon my steps here, I experience an uneasiness which disturbs the peace of my life. I have in my heart an undying worm, and to crown my misfortunes my trouble is without remedy.’

The King of Damascus was somewhat astonished to hear his favourite speak thus, and he imagined some princess had been taken from him too. ‘Re­late your history to me,’ he said; ‘some lady is doubtless involved in it, and I am much mistaken if your troubles are not of the same nature as those of Atalmulc.’ The favourite of Bedreddin began the recital of his adventures thus: