‘Farrukhschad, enchanted by this speech, embraced me, and I left him to go and give the king an account of this interview. I repeated to him word for word all that the prince had said to me. Then I added: “I did not combat the illusions which trouble him: I flattered them rather, and I perceived that my sympathy relieved him much. To complete his cure, your majesty must permit him and me to travel; it is the way to banish Farrukhschad’s melancholy, and make him forget the chimera which occupies him.” The king agreed with me, and ordered a magnificent equipage for the prince his son, who, followed by a large number of officers, soon left Shiraz with me.

‘After a somewhat long and uncertain journey we arrived at the town of Gazuine, where there reigns an old king who loves his subjects as much as they love him. This good old man sent the captain of his guards to meet Farrukhschad to testify to him the joy his happy arrival caused him, and to beg him to excuse him at the same time for not being able to leave his palace to go and receive him.

‘My prince received the captain very graciously, and asked him for news of the king’s health.

‘“My lord,” said the officer to him, “the king my master is sick with grief. He has recently lost his only son, who was a prince of great promise; he has not yet consoled himself for the loss.”

‘We were much touched, and we went to the king’s palace. He paid every imaginable honour to Farrukhschad, and, seeing in him some resemblance to his son, he could not help shedding tears.

‘“What do I see, my lord?” said my prince to him. “Does the sight of me draw tears from you? Am I unfortunate enough to recall a sad memory to you?”

‘“Yes, my prince,” replied the king; “the like­ness between you and my son renews my grief; but I look upon you as another child whom Heaven has sent me to console me for the loss of the other. I begin already to feel for you part of the love I had for him. Stay, I beg, with me; hold the rank he held at my court, and you shall be my heir.”

‘Farrukhschad thanked the king for his kind­ness, and resolved to make a long stay at Gazuine, more out of sympathy for the old monarch than to assure to himself the throne which he offered him.

Every day the grief of the old king was seen to diminish; he became every day insensibly more attached to the Prince of Persia, who could not live without him. One day, whilst they were both talking, Farrukhschad asked of what malady the Prince of Gazuine had died.

‘“Alas,” said the king, “the cause of his death is very extraordinary; it is love which laid him in the tomb. Listen. My son had heard tell of the Princess of Cashmere, and from the portrait given him of her he became enamoured of her.

‘“I immediately sent rich presents to the King Togrul Bey by an ambassador, who asked for the princess his daughter for my son. The King of Cashmere replied that he held my alliance in great honour, but he had sworn by Heaven that he would not marry his daughter against her will; that this princess hated men mortally, and that this aversion was the result of a dream; that one night she had dreamt that a doe, after having delivered a stag from a snare in which he was caught, had got herself caught, and that the stag had been ungrateful enough to refuse to help her; that since this dream she looked upon men as so many monsters whom women should avoid. My ambassador brought me back this answer, and my unhappy son, losing hope of marrying the Cashmerian princess, fell into a decline, which carried him off in spite of the remedies my doctors gave him.”

‘Farrukhschad did not hear this story without agitation. If he had the consolation of thinking that his dream was not a delusion, on the other hand the rigour of the princess made him fear the fate of the Prince of Gazuine. The king perceived his agitation. “O my son,” he said; “why are you troubled? You seem to me quite beside yourself.”

‘“My lord,” replied the prince, “I have left my country only because of this inhuman princess.”

‘Then he related his dream, and the king having listened said, sighing: “Just Heaven! why must my life be a tissue of troubles and annoyances? I brought up my son with extreme care; I lost him, and when I begin to console myself for his loss a new trouble comes to me. O strange fate! But, my dear Farrukhschad,” he continued, “take courage, do not give way to your melancholy; it is not impossible to conquer the aversion which the Princess of Cashmere has for men. Alas! my son’s trouble was not without remedy! If he had had the patience to await the result of the strata­gems which might have been employed he would not now be dead.”

‘The King of Gazuine, after having given some hope to the Prince of Persia, went to find his vizirs who awaited him in the council; and Farrukhschad, impatient to see me, sent for me, and related all he had just heard.

‘“Oh! my dear prince,” I then said, “your happiness is assured, since we know the name of the princess. If the king will permit me, I will go to the kingdom of Cashmere. I undertake to bring you the object of your desires. Do not ask me how I propose to succeed, for I do not know myself; I shall act as it seems best.”

‘The prince, enchanted to see with what con­fidence I promised to make him happy, embraced me, and we passed the rest of the day in rejoicing.

‘The following morning I took leave of my prince, and, with the permission of the King of Gazuine, I departed for the kingdom of Cash­mere, well-armed and mounted on a very fine horse. After several days’ march I found myself in this meadow, on the side from which one sees the palace whither I am soon going to conduct you. Charmed with the beauty of the place, I dismounted, I let my horse graze, and I sat down under a leafy tree, on the border of a fountain, the pure and transparent water of which invited refreshment. I could not help drinking it, and I then sat down on the grass and fell asleep.

‘On awaking I perceived five or six white does with saddle-cloths of blue satin and gold rings on their feet. They came to me; I began to caress them, but in doing so I noticed that they shed great tears. That surprised me, and I did not know what to think of it, when, turning my eyes towards the palace, I saw at a window a charming lady who made a sign to me to approach. I immediately left my horse in the field, and I advanced to join her, although the does seemed to wish to prevent me by biting the edge of my robe and even putting themselves in front of me.

‘Astonished by the action and tears of these animals, I reflected at the time that there was perhaps some underlying mystery, but the pleasur­able anticipation overruled my prudence and carried me away. I arrived at the palace gate, I entered. The lady, who seemed to me far more beautiful near than from afar off, received me with favour, took me by the hand, conducted me to a superb apartment, and made me sit down with her on a sofa. After the first compliments several slaves brought fruit in a porcelain basin. The lady took the finest, which she presented to me. But hardly had I tasted it than her face changed suddenly and she said to me: “Bold stranger, experience the punishment meted out to all those who like you are bold enough to enter the palace of Mehrefza. Leave your natural form and take that of a stag: lose the use of speech, but retain human understanding in order to feel your mis­fortune for ever.”

‘She had not finished these words before I found myself changed into a stag. At the same time a green satin saddle-cloth was brought which she herself placed on my back. Then I was led into a great park where there were more than two hundred other stags, or rather men whose mis­fortune it had been to be attracted to this spot and whom the cruel Mehrefza had also changed into stags.

‘I had leisure to reflect upon my misfortune which I felt less for my sake than because of Farrukhschad. “Alas!” I said to myself every moment, “what will become of my dear prince? How can he obtain the accomplishment of his desires? He is waiting for me to bring him the princess whom he adores, and he will never see me again.” I was continually absorbed in this reflection, which caused me great grief.

‘One day I saw eight or ten ladies enter the park, amongst whom was a perfectly beautiful young person, who, by the wealth of her attire, seemed to be the mistress of the others. She had with her a governess, to whom she said, on seeing all the stags: “Indeed I pity all these unfortunate creatures very much. How inhuman is the Princess Mehrefza, my sister! Heaven has given us both very different inclinations. Unceasingly engaged in tormenting the human species, she seems to have learnt magic only to make people miserable, and I, if I possess any secret powers, I have never put them to any bad use, I only employ them to secure the welfare of others. It pleases me to do charitable actions, and I feel inclined to do one to-day since my sister is absent. Go, my good mother,” she added, “and fetch me one of those stags and bring it to me in my apart­ment.” Saying these words, she re-entered the palace.