On receiving this information,ārNā the jewel-merchant and his wife resolved to set out and throw themselves at the feet of this King, and endeavour to obtain from him the pardon and liberty of their son. With heavy hearts they accordingly proceeded on their journey, and having arrived at the capital, presented themselves before the King, and said: “Be it known unto your exalted Majesty, that we are two wretched strangers, oppressed by the infirmities of age, and overwhelmed by misfortune. We were blessed with two sons, one named Bihrūz, the other Rūzbih; but it was the will of Heaven that they should fall into the sea, where one of them perished, but the other was restored to us. The fame of your Majesty’s generosity and greatness induced our son to visit this imperial court; and we are informed that, by your orders, he is now in prison. The object of our petition is, that your Majesty might take compassion on our helpless situation, and restore to us our long-lost son.”
The King on hearing this was astonished, and for a while imagined that it was all a dream. At length, when convinced that the old man and woman were his own parents, and that Rūzbih was his own brother, he sent for him to the prison, embraced them and wept, and placed them beside him on the throne; and for the sake of Rūzbih, set at liberty all those who had been confined with him. After this he divided the empire with his brother, and their time passed away in pleasure and tranquillity.
This story being concluded, Bakhtyār observed, that the jewel-merchant, by his precipitancy, had nearly occasioned the death of his two sons; and that Bihrūz, by deferring the execution of his brother, had prevented an infinity of distress to himself and his parents. This observation induced the King to grant Bakhtyār another day’s reprieve, and he was taken back to prison.
When the next morning came, the Ninth Vizier appeared before the King and said, that his extraordinary forbearance and lenity in respect to Bakhtyār had given occasion to much scandal; as every criminal, however heinous his offence, began to think that he might escape punishment by amusing the King with idle stories.
The King, on hearing this, sent to the prison for Bakhtyār, and desired the executioner to attend. When the unfortunate young man came before the King, he requested a respite only of two days, in the course of which he hoped his innocence might be proved; “although,” said he, “I know that the malice of one’s enemies is a flame from which it is almost impossible to escape: as appears from the story of Abū Temām, who, on the strength of a false accusation, was put to death by the King, and his innocence acknowledged when too late.”