Dinarzade was actually as good as her word; she called the
sultaness very early, saying, Dear sister, if you be not asleep,
pray make an end of the agreeable history of the king of the
Black Isles; I am ready to die with impatience to know how he
came to be changed into marble. You shall hear it, replies
Scheherazade, if the sultan will give me leave.
I found the queen lying by me, then, says the king of the Black
Islands; I cannot tell you whether she slept or not; but I got up
without making any noise, and went to my closet, where I made an
end of dressing myself. I afterwards went and held my council,
and, at my return, the queen was clad in mourning, her hair
hanging about her eyes, and part of it pulled off. She presented
herself before me, and said, Sir, I come to beg your majesty not
to be surprised to see me in this condition; three afflicting
pieces of news that I have just now received all at once are the
cause of my heavy grief, of which the tokens you see are but very
faint resemblances. Alas! what is that news, madam, said I? The
death of the queen, my dear mother, said she; that of the king my
father killed in battle; and that of one of my brothers, who is
fallen headlong into it.
I was not ill pleased that she made use of this pretext to hide
the true cause of her grief, and I thought she had not suspected
me to have killed her gallant.
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