My son’s discourse afflicted me beyond all measure. I then found myself guilty of an enormous crime, and repented too late of having so easily believed the calumnies of a wretched slave, who, from what he had learnt of my son, invented that fatal lie. My uncle here present, came just at the time to see his daughter; but instead of finding her alive, understood from me that she was dead, for I concealed nothing from him; and without staying for his censure, declared myself the greatest criminal in the world. Upon this, instead of reproaching me, he joined his tears with mine, and we wept three days together, without intermission; he for the loss of a daughter whom he always loved tenderly, and I for the loss of a dear wife, of whom I had deprived myself after so cruel a manner, by giving too easy credit to the report of a lying slave. This, commander of the faithful, is the sincere confession your majesty commanded from me. You have heard now all the circumstances of my crime, and I most humbly beg of you to order the punishment due for it; how severe soever it may be, I shall not in the least complain, but esteem it too easy and gentle. The caliph was very much astonished at the young man’s relation. But this just prince, finding that he was rather to be pitied than condemned, began to speak in his favour: This young man’s crime, said he, is pardonable before God, and excusable with men. The wicked slave is the sole cause of this murder --it is he alone that must be punished; wherefore, said he, looking upon the grand vizier, I give you three day’s time to find him out; if you do not bring him within that space, you shall die in his stead. The unfortunate Giafar, who thought himself now out of danger, was terribly perplexed at this new order of the caliph; but as he durst not return any answer to this prince, whose hasty temper he knew too well, he departed from his presence, and retired to his house with tears in his eyes, persuading himself he had but three days to live; for he was so fully persuaded that he should not find the slave, that he made not the least inquiry about him. Is it possible, said he, that in such a city as Bagdad, where there is an infinite number of negro slaves, I should be able to find him out that is guilty? So that unless God be pleased to bring it about, as he hath already detected the murderer, nothing can save my life.