Then, on no less important a day than the anniversary of their father's death, Shahrayar conceived a great desire to see his brother. He had missed him dearly for they had never been parted until now.

Therefore, he sent for the vizier and commanded him to make the journey to Samarkand and bring Shazaman to his side.

The vizier made preparations without delay. He mustered a great caravan. On the day it was to depart, the streets of the city thronged with people, all loudly proclaiming their good wishes to the vizier, and their love for King Shahrayar. The king himself stood on the palace steps to wish his vizier godspeed. Dinarzad stood with the young queen and her ladies, waving a silk handkerchief in farewell. But of Shahrazad, there was no sign.

The vizier's caravan traveled for many days. When it reached Samarkand, Shazaman gave the vizier a warm welcome. When he learned the reason for the journey, he was overjoyed at the prospect of being reunited with his brother. Because the city was full of traders, Shazaman bade the vizier make camp outside the city gates. Then he set about making preparations for his own departure. It took several days, but at last the evening came when he kissed his wife farewell, and she presented him with a skin of his favorite wine.

"Tonight as you sit in your tent, drink this, and think of me," she said. "It will ease the sorrow of this parting."

"My beloved," Shazaman answered, "gladly will I do as you desire."

Then Shazaman went to the caravan of the vizier. There, he would spend the night so that they could depart early the next day in the cool of the morning.

But late that night, as he sat in his tent, a cup of the wine she had given him in his hands, Shazaman's thoughts circled back to his wife. Much as he longed to see his brother again, Shazaman's heart was sad, for he and his wife were newly married and he loved her dearly. Deciding he did not wish to part without one more sweet farewell, Shazaman set down the wine untouched, rose from his couch, and made his way back to the palace.

When Shazaman reached his chambers, his wife was nowhere to be found! Great was his dismay and alarm! He had just opened his mouth to give a cry when he heard the barest thread of sound. This was enough for him to recognize his wife's voice, so great was his love. Wary now, for he feared that something was amiss, Shazaman followed the sound. Soon he found himself on a balcony overlooking his wife's favorite garden. In the light of the moon he saw her—wrapped in another man's arms.

"What a fool is this Shazaman," he heard his wife proclaim. "For I have played him false before he has even departed. But he will never know it, for the wine I gave him at our parting is poisoned."

When Shazaman heard these words his blood ran cold as newly melted snow. The love he felt for his wife fled from his heart, never to return.

At Shazaman's wife's words, her lover pulled back. "By the love of God!" he cried. "What have you done?"

But Shazaman's wife merely laughed, a sound like tinkling bells which, as though the feeling belonged to another life or another man, Shazaman remembered had once greatly charmed him.

"Calm yourself, my beloved," spoke his wife to her lover. "For the poison is as a thief in the night. So cunningly made that no one will be able to detect its coming and going. Now let us go in and repose ourselves, for we must be ready to rule in Samarkand on the morrow."

So saying, Shazaman's wife and her lover prepared to go in. But before they could, a great rage swept Shazaman. He drew his sword and leaped down into the garden. With the first stroke, he severed his wife's lover's head from his body. The second stroke deprived his wife of her head as well. Thus did he dispatch those who would have destroyed him.

After these deeds were done Shazaman summoned his most trusted councilors and made known to them all that had taken place. They pronounced his actions true and just. Though they begged him to remain within the city lest there be other conspirators, Shazaman would not delay his visit to his brother.

For he discovered that he had no wish to remain in Samarkand where everything he looked upon reminded him of the treachery of the woman he had loved.

And so, as silently as he had left it, Shazaman returned to the caravan and departed with the vizier the following morning without ever revealing to the vizier what had transpired. They traveled together for many miles until at last they reached Shahrayar's palace. Ah! How joyful was the reunion of the brothers!

But it did not take long for Shahrayar to realize that a profound melancholy had settled upon his brother. Though he would converse on any topic Shahrayar wished, Shazaman neither laughed nor smiled.

Nothing seemed to delight him. But when Shahrayar pressed to know what was wrong, his brother begged him to change the subject.

In this manner many weeks went by until the time drew near for Shazaman's departure. Still trying to shake his brother from his melancholy, Shahrayar arranged a great hunt, a thing that Shazaman had always enjoyed above all others. But when the time came for the hunt to begin, Shazaman begged his brother to go without him. No words Shahrayar could say altered his brother's decision to stay behind, and so at last, he obeyed Shazaman's wishes and set forth without him.

Now, since the night he had discovered his wife's treachery, Shazaman had not slept. For it was in the night that he had discovered there was more to his life than his eyes had been able to perceive, and so he feared to close them.

And so, on a night much like the one on which Shazaman had uncovered the plot aimed at his own heart, he discovered one aimed at his brother's. For Shahrayar's wife, too, did conspire against him, to deprive him of his life and set another in his place— both in his bed and on his throne.

Shazaman was filled with anger when he heard his brother's wife plotting against him, yet his heart was also strangely filled with joy. For now he understood that it was not he, alone, who could be deceived.

All men could be blinded by their faith in the women they loved. Thus reasoned Shazaman. And so he cast off his melancholy and waited for his brother's return. But he kept a close eye on Shahrayar's wife and her lover.

Great was the rejoicing in the city at the king's safe return! And great was the change Shahrayar beheld in his brother. Before, Shazaman's countenance had been dull and downcast. Now it shone so brightly it dazzled all who looked upon him. At dinner that evening as they sat at their ease, Shahrayar said to his brother, "When I departed, you were as the ray of a lamp shielded by a hand—Shuttered and shrouded.

Now, no brightness can outshine you. What has brought about so great a transformation? I pray you, tell me."

At Shahrayar's words, Shazaman's expression dimmed. "Ask me anything but that, my brother. For my answer will bring you a grief as great as that which I have lately known—a thing I cannot wish upon you.

Therefore, let us find another topic."

But Shahrayar was not to be dissuaded. Over and over he urged his brother to unburden his heart. And so at last, Shazaman related all that had lately befallen him: How he discovered the treachery of his wife, and what he had done about it. Great was Shahrayar's sympathy when he heard his brother's story.

"Now I understand your unhappiness!" he cried. "But this story does not explain why you have lately set aside your grief. Surely some other tale must follow."

"It does," replied Shazaman.'! know you have the ears to hear it, but have you the stomach and the heart, Shahrayar?"