As the prince bent with
grief over this gentle martyr to fidelity, he beheld a chain of pearls
round his neck, attached to which, beneath his wing, was a small
enamelled picture. It represented a lovely princess in the very flower
of her years. It was doubtless the unknown beauty of the garden; but
who and where was she- how had she received his letter, and was this
picture sent as a token of her approval of his passion?
Unfortunately the death of the faithful dove left every thing in
mystery and doubt.
The prince gazed on the picture till his eyes swam with tears. He
pressed it to his lips and to his heart; he sat for hours
contemplating it almost in an agony of tenderness. "Beautiful
image!" said he, "alas, thou art but an image! Yet thy dewy eyes
beam tenderly upon me; those rosy lips look as though they would speak
encouragement: vain fancies! Have they not looked the same on some
more happy rival? But where in this wide world shall I hope to find
the original? Who knows what mountains, what realms may separate us;
what adverse chances may intervene? Perhaps now, even now, lovers
may be crowding around her, while I sit here a prisoner in a tower,
wasting my time in adoration of a painted shadow."
The resolution of Prince Ahmed was taken. "I will fly from this
palace," said he, "which has become an odious prison; and, a pilgrim
of love, will seek this unknown princess throughout the world.
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