And now the picture was brought to the princess, who, finding the
resemblance exact, put it into Jemshíd's hand. Jemshíd, in secretly
recognizing his own likeness, was forcibly reminded of his past glory
and happiness, and he burst into tears.

The memory of the diadem and throne
No longer his, came o'er him, and his soul
Was rent with anguish.

The princess said to him: "Why at the commencement of our friendship
dost thou weep? Art thou discontented--dissatisfied, unhappy? and am I
the cause?" Jemshíd replied: "No, it is simply this; those who have
feeling, and pity the sufferings of others, weep involuntarily. I pity
the misfortunes of Jemshíd, driven as he is by adversity from the
splendor of a throne, and reduced to a state of destitution and ruin.
But he must now be dead; devoured, perhaps, by the wolves and lions of
the forest." The nurse and princess, however, were convinced, from the
sweetness of his voice and discourse, that he could be no other than
Jemshíd himself, and taking him aside, they said: "Speak truly, art thou
not Jemshíd?" But he denied himself. Again, they observed: "What says
this picture?" To this he replied; "It is not impossible that I may be
like Jemshíd in feature; for surely there may be in the world two men
like each other?" And notwithstanding all the efforts made by the damsel
and her nurse to induce Jemshíd to confess, he still resolutely denied
himself. Several times she assured him she would keep his secret, if he
had one, but that she was certain of his being Jemshíd. Still he denied
himself. "This nurse of mine, whom thou seest," said she, "has often
repeated to me the good tidings that I should be united to Jemshíd, and
bear him a son. My heart instinctively acknowledged thee at first sight: