Behram and his seamen arrived at the city of the magicians the
same night that Assad did, and stopped at the same church yard,
the city gates being shut, intending to stay in some tomb till
next day, when they were opened again.
As Assad's ill luck would have it, Bahram lighted upon that in
which the prince was sleeping, with his head wrapped up in his
coat. Assad awoke at the noise he made, and asked, Who's there?
Behram knew him again presently. Hah, hah, said he, thou art the
man who hast been my ruin for ever; thou hast escaped being
sacrificed this year; but, depend upon it, thou shalt not escape
the next. Saying this, he flew upon him, clapped his handkerchief
in his mouth, to prevent his making noise, and by the help of his
seamen bound him.
Next morning, as soon as the city sates were open, Behram and his
men easily carried Assad to the old man's house where he had been
so inhumanly treated. It was so early that they met nobody in the
streets; and when he came to the old man's house, he was again
thrown into the dungeon. Behram acquainted the wizard with the
sad occasion of his return, and the ill success of his voyage.
The old rascal, upon this, commanded his two furies, Bostava and
Cavama, to treat him, if possible, more cruelly than before.
Assad was in a terrible surprise to find himself in the hands of
his old persecutors, from whom he had suffered so much, and hoped
that he had been delivered; he lamented the rigour of his
destiny, and trembled when he saw Bostava enter with a cudgel, a
loaf, and a pitcher of water; he was almost dead at the sight of
that unmerciful wretch, and the thoughts of the daily sufferings
he was to endure for another year, when he was to die the most
horrible of deaths.
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