destroy it. He knew not what
step to take. How should he take vengeance on the guilty? How could he
discern if they were both equally so? How could he know which of the
two he ought to spare? How could he strike two objects who were so
dear to him? Harassed by these painful and afflicting considerations,
he lost his repose and his health, and his nurse, who still remained
in the seraglio, was alarmed at this change. This woman, whom age and
experience had rendered prudent, having deserved the confidence of her
masters, had acquired the right of approaching them whenever she
thought proper, and accordingly she went to the Sultan.

"What is the matter with you, my son?" said she to him. "You are not
as you used to be. You shun the amusements which, till now, appeared
agreeable to your inclinations. Riding, walking, and hunting, please
you no more. You do not now assemble your Court, nor give feasts and
entertainments. I well know that you scarcely take food. What secret
grief consumes you? Open to me your heart, my son. You know my tender
attachment, and you ought to fear nothing from my indiscretion. We
often allow ourselves to be prepossessed by phantoms, and perhaps I
may be able to dissipate, in a moment, those which disturb your
imagination. Trust me with your affliction, my son, and I hope to
soothe it."

Whatever confidence this Prince had in his good nurse, and
notwithstanding the great estimation in which he held her excellent
qualities, he did not think it proper to disclose his grief to her. He
must speak against Chamsada, and this remembrance would make the wound
bleed afresh which she had made in his heart. The sage old woman was
not discouraged by the ill success of her first attempt: she watched
every opportunity of being seen by her master; and the tender looks
which she cast upon him seemed to say, "O my dear son! speak to me,
unfold your heart to your good nurse." But all her cares were
fruitless.

Finding that she could not succeed by this method, and presuming that
Chamsada must have been informed of the Sultan's grief, and
conjecturing, moreover, that a woman would more easily reveal the
secret which she wished to know, she flew to the Queen, whom she found
plunged in sorrow apparently as deep as that which consumed the
Sultan. She employed every method which address and experience could
furnish her, in order to deserve the confidence of Chamsada.

"But why this cruel reserve with me?" said the g