The ship set sail, and after a long though fortunate voyage, we landed at Balsora, from whence I returned to Bagdad. The first thing I did after my arrival, was to execute the commission I had been intrusted with. I took the letter of the king of Serendid, and presented myself at the gate of the Commander of the Faithful, followed by the beautiful slave, and some of my family, who carried the presents which had been committed to my care. I mentioned the reason of my appearance there, and I was immediately conducted before the throne of the caliph. I prostrated myself at his feet, and having made a short speech, gave him the letter and the present. When he had read the contents, he inquired of me whether it was true that the king of Serendid was as rich and powerful as he reported himself to be in his letter. I prostrated myself a second time, and when I arose, “Commander of the Faithful,” said I, “I can assure your majesty, that he does not exaggerate his riches and grandeur; I have been witness to it. Nothing can excite greater admiration than the magnificence of his palace. When this prince wishes to appear in public, a throne is prepared for him on the back of an elephant; on this he sits and proceeds between two files, composed of his ministers, favourites, and others belonging to the court. Before him, on the same elephant, sits an officer with a golden lance in his hand, and behind the throne another stands with a pillar of gold, on the top of which is placed an emerald about half a foot long and an inch thick. He is preceded by a guard of a thousand men, habited in silk and gold stuffs, and mounted on elephants richly caparisoned.
“While the king is on his march, the officer, who sits before him on the elephant, from time to time cries with a loud voice, ‘This is the great monarch, the powerful and tremendous sultan of the Indies, whose palace is covered with a hundred thousand rubies, and who possesses twenty thousand diamond crowns. This is the crowned monarch, greater than ever was Solima, or the great Mihragè.’
“After he has pronounced these words, the officer, who is behind the throne, cries, in his turn, ‘This monarch, who is so great and powerful, must die, must die, must die.’ The first officer then replies, ‘Hail to him who lives and dies not.’