Madam, I am the son of a sultan. My father had a brother, who reigned over a neighboring kingdom. His son, my cousin, and I were nearly of the same age. I went regularly every year to see my uncle, at whose court I amused myself for a month or two, and then returned home. On one occasion I arrived at my father’s capital, where, contrary to custom, I found a numerous guard at the gate of the palace. They surrounded me as I entered. The commanding officer said, “Prince, the army has proclaimed the grand vizier sultan, instead of your father, who is dead, and I take you prisoner in the name of the new sultan.”
This rebel vizier had long entertained a mortal hatred against me. When I was a boy I loved to shoot with a cross bow; and being one day upon the terrace of the palace, a bird happening to come by, I shot at but missed him, and the bolt by misfortune hit the vizier, who was taking the air upon the terrace of his own house, and put out one of his eyes. He never forgave me, and, as opportunity offered,
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