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 God alone, who is almighty.” At these words the enchantress, who did not expect them, uttered a loud exclamation of joy. “My dear lord,” cried she, ‘‘do I not deceive myself; is it certain that I hear you, and that you speak to me?” “Unhappy woman,” said the sultan, ‘‘art thou worthy that I should answer thee?” “Alas!” replied the queen, “why do you reproach me thus?” “The cries,” returned the sultan, “the groans and tears of thy husband, whom thou treatest every day with so much indignity and barbarity, prevent my sleeping night or day. Hadst thou disenchanted him, I should long since have been cured, and have recovered the use of my speech. This is the cause of my silence, of which you complain.” ‘‘Well,” said the enchantress, “to pacify you, I am ready to execute your commands; would you have me restore him?” “Yes,” replied the sultan; “make haste to set him at liberty, that I be no longer disturbed by his lamentations.” The enchantress went immediately out of the Palace of Tears; she took a cup of water, and pronounced some words over it, which caused it to boil, as if it had been on the fire. She afterward proceeded to the young king, and threw the water upon him, saying: “If the Creator of all things did form thee as thou art at present, or if He be angry with thee, do not change; but if thou art in that condition merely by virtue of my enchantments, resume thy natural shape, and become what thou wast before.” She had scarcely spoken these words when the prince, finding himself restored to his former condition, rose up and returned thanks to God. The enchantress then said to him, “Get thee from this castle, and never return on pain of death.” The young king, yielding to necessity, went away without replying a word, and retired to a remote place, where he patiently awaited the event of the design which the sultan had so happily begun. Meanwhile the enchantress returned to the Palace of Tears, and