"
The description was a spark of fire to the combustible heart of
Ahmed; all the latent amorousness of his temperament had at once found
an object, and he conceived an immeasurable passion for the
princess. He wrote a letter, couched in the most impassioned language,
breathing his fervent devotion, but bewailing the unhappy thraldom
of his person, which prevented him from seeking her out and throwing
himself at her feet. He added couplets of the most moving eloquence,
for he was a poet by nature, and inspired by love. He addressed his
letter- "To the unknown beauty, from the captive Prince Ahmed";
then, perfuming it with musk and roses, he gave it to the dove.
"Away, trustiest of messengers!" said he. "Fly over mountain and
valley, and river, and plain; rest not in bower, nor set foot on
earth, until thou hast given this letter to the mistress of my heart."
The dove soared high in air, and taking his course darted away in
one undeviating direction. The prince followed him with his eye
until he was a mere speck on a cloud, and gradually disappeared behind
a mountain.
Day after day he watched for the return of the messenger of love,
but he watched in vain. He began to accuse him of forgetfulness,
when towards sunset one evening the faithful bird fluttered into his
apartment, and falling at his feet expired. The arrow of some wanton
archer had pierced his breast, yet he had struggled with the
lingerings of life to execute his mission.
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