from his swoon, others of them got
about the jeweller, desiring to know what had happened to their
lord. The jeweller, who took care to discover nothing that was
not proper for them to know, told them that it was an
extraordinary case, but that it was not a time to relate it, and
that they would do better to go and assist the prince. By good
fortune the prince came to himself that moment, and those that
but just before required his history with so much earnestness
retreated to a respectful distance.

Although the prince had in some measure recovered his
recollection, he continued so weak that he could not open his
mouth to speak. He answered only by signs, even to his nearest
relations, when they spoke to him. He remained in this condition
till next morning, when the jeweller came to take leave of him.
He could answer only by a movement of his eyes, and holding out
his right hand; but when he saw he was laden with a bundle of
plate, which the thieves had returned to him, he made a sign to
his servants that they should take it and carry it to his house.

The jeweller had been expected with great impatience by his
family the day he departed with the stranger; but now he was
quite given over, and it was no longer doubted but some disaster
had befallen him. His wife, children, and servants, were in the
greatest alarm, and lamenting him. When he arrived, their joy was
excessive; yet they were troubled to see that he was so much
altered in the short interval, that he was hardly to be known.
This was occasioned by the great fatigue of the preceding day,
and the fears he had undergone all night, which would not permit
him to sleep. Finding himself much indisposed, he continued at
home two days, and would admit only one of his intimate friends
to visit him.

The third day, finding himself something better, he thought he
might recover strength by going abroad to take the air; and
therefore went to the shop of a rich merchant of his
acquaintance, with whom he continued long in conversation. As he
was rising to take leave of his friend to return home, he
observed a woman making a sign to him, whom he presently knew to
be the confidant of Schemselnihar. Between fear and joy, he made
what haste he could away, without looking at her; but she
followed him, as he feared she would, the place they were in
being by no means proper to converse in. As he quickened his
pace, she, not being able to overtake him, every now and then
call