On my arrival at my father's capital, I was astonished to find a large
detachment of guards drawn up before the gate of the palace; they
surrounded me directly I entered. I asked the officers in command the
reason of this strange behaviour, and was horrified to learn that the
army had mutinied and put to death the king, my father, and had placed
the grand-vizir on the throne. Further, that by his orders I was
placed under arrest.
Now this rebel vizir had hated me from my boy-hood, because once, when
shooting at a bird with a bow, I had shot out his eye by accident. Of
course I not only sent a servant at once to offer him my regrets and
apologies, but I made them in person. It was all of no use. He
cherished an undying hatred towards me, and lost no occasion of showing
it. Having once got me in his power I felt he could show no mercy, and
I was right. Mad with triumph and fury he came to me in my prison and
tore out my right eye. That is how I lost it.
My persecutor, however, did not stop here. He shut me up in a large
case and ordered his executioner to carry me into a desert place, to
cut off my head, and then to abandon my body to the birds of prey. The
case, with me inside it, was accordingly placed on a horse, and the
executioner, accompanied by another man, rode into the country until
they found a spot suitable for the purpose. But their hearts were not
so hard as they seemed, and my tears and prayers made them waver.
"Forsake the kingdom instantly," said the executioner at last, "and
take care never to come back, for you will not only lose your head, but
make us lose ours." I thanked him gratefully, and tried to console
myself for the loss of my eye by thinking of the other misfortunes I
had escaped.