The Vizier's Son

"Last night, in a dream, I beheld the most enchanting princess,' the Prince confided to the Vizier's son. They were inseparable companions, and neither had a secret he would not instantly share with the other. "She was strolling about in a garden where the breeze was laden with the perfume of sweet flowers," the prince went on. "Her loveliness took my breath away. She cast one lingering glance at my face, but not a word would she utter. My whole being longs for her, my friend. Whatever shall I do?"

Young as he was, the Vizier's son was full of wise stratagems. Was he not descended from a long line of Viziers, whose exploits were the theme of legend and song?

In what direction lay this garden of your dream? " he enquired.

"O, that's easy," replied the Prince, "I can recall every inch of road I took to get into that garden."

"Set your mind at rest then," said the Vizier's son. "At day break, tomorrow, we set forth along this same road. And we shall see what we shall see!"

On the morrow, the two friends rode out of the city, the Prince leading the way. When the sun hung low in the western sky, they reached a strange city. Marvelling greatly at the wide avenues and the handsome mansions on either side, they ambled on until they gained the entrance to the royal gardens.

Here they dismounted and crept inside, unnoticed by the sentries.

The very first person on whom the Prince's eyes alighted was the Princess of his dream. She was even more ravishing than the apparition of the night before. Her lips, bent demurely over a sweet-smelling flower, were like rose buds. When she flashed a dazzling smile at the intruders from under her long, silken eye-lashes, the Prince quite lost his wits. But, even as in the dream, she would say naught. She only flung the flower in the direction of the moon-struck youth, tossed her golden curls, and daintily tripped out of sight.

With words of comfort and reassurance, the Vizier's son led the reluctant Prince out of the garden and found lodgings for the two of them in an ancient inn. "Take heart, my friend, I promise to fetch the Princess to you;" he said.

Early next morning, the lad went out into the qty and sought employment with the baker to the royal household. He worked diligently and fashioned delicious cakes of curious and bewitching patterns, especially for the Princess. No sooner did the Princess set eyes on the delicacies spread out before her than she sent for the baker. "These aren't your handiwork, surely!" she exclaimed.

'No, Your Highness; the good man confessed. "A stranger and a stripling begged to work for me. It was his cunning hand that wrought these. These were for your special delectation, he kept on saying,.'"

"Send him to me, quick!" the Princess ordered, almost forgetting herself in her excitement.

Presently, the Vizier's son, baker's apron and all, was ushered into her chamber. The Princess's questions came tumbling one upon another. The youth, smiling inwardly at her impetuous nature, told her all about the Prince, how he had been smitten by her beauty and how he lay pining for love in a squalid inn not a stone` s throw from the palace.

"I despair for his life, sweet Princess," he lied stoutly, "Me thinks" it is a sickness of the heart that only a smile from your compassionate eyes can heal."

The Princess, being of a tender disposition, was prevailed upon to visit this ardent youth. Though she would not admit it, she had taken a fancy to the Prince who had stared at her with the bulging eyes of a lovesick swain. "I'll be at the inn at the hour of midnight," she promised the Vizier's son.

When the Prince heard the glad tidings he was beside himself with happiness. In truth, the poor lad was so overwrought that when the hour of the Princess's visit struck, he was fast asleep in bed.

The early rays of the sun slanting into his apartment woke him up. As he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, he suddenly recollected the, midnight assignation. He tumbled out of bed and ran to his friend's, side, weeping: "The Princess …………………oh!………oh!……she broke her word after all!"

The Vizier's son was not to be taken in. However, he comforted the poor youth with kind, soothing words, and with deft fingers, mean-while, fumed out his pockets. Five glittering marbles and a dainty silk handkerchief with the Princess's crest embroidered upon it dropped out. His own handkerchief was missing. "Ha!" exclaimed the Vizier s son, wagging a finger,' she was here right enough! Confess now ...."

Here, the poor lad burst into a fit of sobbing. He was the biggest fool you could think of -lying asleep like an ox while his dream princess had come a-visiting'

"But, why these marbles?" he shot at his friend between two choking sobs.

Ha, to remand you that you are still a baby" ventured the Vizier's son with a hint of unkind mockery. "They are for you to play with!"

But his heart melted with pity as the Prince yielded to a fresh outburst of grief. He gently patted his friend on the shoulder, whispered words of courage and sallied forth again.

The baker's apprentice was soon face to face with a somewhat indignant Princess. How, indeed, could he make excuses for his friend? How could he mollify this lovely creature? She was stamping about the room, her silver anklets beating out an angry tune.

But the Vizier's son was as resourceful as he was determined. He pleased and cajoled as never before. By slow degrees, the princess was won over. The Cloud of anger vanished from her brows. Her cheeks dimpling with smiles, she was promising to visit the Prince again at the hour of midnight.

You may be sure that this time the Prince was very wide awake when the fateful hour struck. The Princess looked more adorable than ever before. She bubbled over with laughter and kept up a continuous chatter about sweet nothings. And the prince, who couldn't take his eyes off her lovely countenance for a moment, bethought himself in very heaven.

But the Fates (alas!) were unkind to the poor innocent lovers. Jealous of their happiness, perhaps, they sent the Vizier of the kingdom prowling about that very quarter of the city. As he stood in the cobbled alleyway beside the inn, the tinkle of girlish laughter fell upon his ears. One hand astride his waist and the other stroking his moustache, he looked up. The voice that was wafted down to him - yes, it was not unfamiliar. "Ah, our naughty little Princess!" he exclaimed with a malicious flick of his fingers. Next moment, he broke in upon the lovers. "Here's a pretty kettle of fish!" he bellowed. At a signal from him, the city guards rushed in and hauled the two tender creatures away to prison.

The Vizier's son wrung his hands in despair when they brought him news of the tragedy. Bit his nimble wits were racing ahead with schemes. In the first flush of dawn he was hobbling along in the guise of an old woman, bent over a gnarled stick and carrying a basket of wheaten cakes on his head. At the prison gates the guards at first laughed at granny's importunity. She whined that she was on an errand of mercy. But presently they relented. If the kindly old soul must fetch food for the unfortunate creatures in their cell, who were they to say 'no'?

No sooner was the old woman inside than she sprang to life. It took her only two winks to gain the cell where his friends were confined. Between tears and laughter, the Princess quickly slipped on the disguise and then, bent double, hobbled past the gates under the very noses of the guards.

Two hours later, the Vizier dragged an incredulous Icing to this
same prison-cell. "Your daughter, Sire!" he cried out triumphantly, pointing a finger at the lad swathed in the Princess's pheran. The king lifted the covered head-dress, scanned the face underneath and discovered that he had been put upon. What a stupid prank, and what a wicked slander against the child he so dearly cherished! Eyes blazing with fury, he turned on the Vizier with drawn sword, and before the wretch could bring out a single word of explanation, his head was rolling on the prison floor.

The Prince and the Vizier's son were set free, it is true. But of what avail was freedom when the whole city was ringing with the news that the Princess was soon to wed the king of neighbouring country? There was little our Viziers son could do about that. For the Princess, notwithstanding all her protestations, had been betrothed long since. Today, the city was all aflutter.

Floral arches, banners and gay festoons seemed to have sprung up wherever one cast one's eyes.

Again, with a sinking heart, perhaps, the Vizier's son set about laying his plans. As baker's apprentice, he contrived to gain the ear of the Princess. His tongue had lost nothing of its cunning, his wits none of their sharpness. But could he accomplish a miracle in the little time left before the wedding day?

When the royal bridegroom arrived, our Princess was outwardly composed. On the day of the wedding, she was all that a bashful bride should be. A proper veil hid the glint of resolution in her eyes. The women of the palace fussed over her. There was music everywhere, and peal upon peal of merry laughter. Then came the priests and their tiresome ceremonial.

At last the time came for her to leave her parental home with her bridegroom. To the playing of pipes and the beating of drums, the gay procession made its way out of the city. The bride, in silk and brocade, was borne in a golden palanquin. Who could guess at the flutter in her little heart?

At the hour of dusk, they halted in a forest glade for the evening's repast. It all happened then in less time than it takes to tell. The Vizier's son, veiled from head to foot, slipped into the palanquin. The Princess stole away to where the lovelorn prince kept impatient vigil, to be caught up into his saddle and whisked off.

The Vizier's son, as you may imagine, did not enjoy being couped up in the palanquin. Soon, however, the bridegroom' sister clambered in beside him. She, unsuspecting girl, had come out of pure kindness to keep the lonely bride company. The lad, as you know, was endowed with a tongue that could melt a stone; and when he found the maiden as lovely as she was intelligent, he laid siege to her heart. Before the party set up camp for the night he had scattered all her defences. She was willing, she confessed demurely, to follow him to the ends of the earth. So, under cover of darkness, he stole away with his prize to join the waiting Prince.

Early next day, the friends journeyed back to their own kingdom. O what a joyous welcome they received, for the parents, poor distracted souls, had almost given them up for lost!

And how much more was their gladness when they discovered that they had both fetched for themselves brides more beautiful than they could ever think of.