This relation from my son plunged me in the deepest affliction. I then saw the enormity of my crime, and repented, though too late, of having given credit to the imposture of the wicked slave, who, from what he had collected from my son, had composed the diabolical fable, which I received as a truth. My uncle, who is now present, arrived at that moment; he came to see his daughter, but instead of finding her alive, he learnt from my lips that she was no more, for I disguised nothing from him, and without waiting for his condemnation, I accused myself as the most criminal of men. Nevertheless, instead of pouring forth the reproaches I so justly deserved, this good man mingled his tears with mine, and we wept together three whole days; he for the loss of a daughter he had always tenderly loved, I for that of a wife, who was dear to me; and of whom I had deprived myself in so cruel a manner, by giving credit to the false testimony of a lying slave. This, Sovereign of the Faithful, is the sincere confession which your majesty required of me; you know the extent of my crime, and I humbly supplicate you to give orders for my punishment; however rigorous it may be, I shall not murmur at it, but esteem it too light.” At this the caliph was in great astonishment; but this equitable prince, finding that the youth was more to be pitied than blamed, began to take his part. “The action of this young man,” said he, “is excusable in the sight of God, and may be pardoned by man. The wicked slave is the sole cause of this murder; he is the only one who ought to be punished; therefore,” continued he, addressing the vizier, “I give you three days to find him: if you do not produce him by that time, your life shall be the forfeit instead of his.” The unhappy Giafar, who had congratulated himself on his safety, was again overwhelmed with despair on hearing this new decree of the caliph; but as he did not dare to reply to his sovereign, whose disposition he was well acquainted with, he went out of his presence, and returned to his house with his eyes bathed in tears; and persuaded, that he had only three days to live. He was so convinced that it was impossible to find the slave, that he did not even seek him. “It is not possible,” cried he, “that in such a city as Bagdad, where there is such an infinity of black slaves, I should ever be able to discover him in question. If God does not reveal him to me, as he did the assassin, nothing can possibly save me.”