Mangogul returned to the favorite, where Selim was come before him. “Well, prince,” said Mirzoza, “has the account of Cypria’s travels done you any good?”

“Neither good nor harm,” answered the Sultan: “I understood it not.”

“Why so?” replied the favorite.

“Because,” says the Sultan, “her Toy speaks like a Polyglot, all languages but mine. It is an impertinent Storyteller, but would make a excellent interpreter.”

“What!” replied Mirzoza, “did you gather nothing at all from her narrative?”

“But one thing, madam,” answered Mangogul, “and that is, that travelling is more pernicious, if possible, to the modesty of the women, than to the religion of the men; and that there is very little merit in knowing many languages. For one may be master of Greek, Latin, Italian, French, Spanish, and the language of Congo, and yet have no more sense than a Toy. Is this your opinion, madam? and what is Selim’s? Now let him begin his story: but above all, no more travels. They fatigue me to death.” Selim promised the Sultan, that the scene should be confined to one place, and spoke thus.

“I was about thirty years of age when I lost my father: I married to keep up my family, and I lived with my wife as becomes a husband; regards, attentions, politeness, decent behavior without much familiarity. The prince Erguebzed came to the throne: I had been in his good graces long before his reign: he continued me in them to his death, and I endeavour’d to do justice to this mark of distinction by my zeal and fidelity. The place of inspector general of his armies became vacant: I obtained it, and this post obliged me to take frequent journies to the frontiers.”

“Frequent journies?” cried the Sultan. “A single one is sufficient to make me sleep till tomorrow. Think of that.”

“Prince,” continued Selim, “it was in one of these tours that I became acquainted with the wife of a colonel of the Spahis, whose name was Ostaluk, a man of bravery, and a good officer, but by no means an agreeable husband, jealous as a tyger, and his person was a sufficient warrant to justify that madness: for he was horribly ugly.

“He had lately espoused Cydalisa, young, lively, handsome; one of those uncommon women, for whom, at the first interview, one feels somewhat more than politeness, from whom one parts with regret, and who return a hundred times to your thoughts, till you see them again.

“Cydalisa had a just way of thinking, expressed herself with grace: her conversation was engaging, and if a person was never tired of seeing her, he was still less so of hearing her. With these qualities she had a right to make strong impressions on every heart, and I felt their effects. I esteemed her much; from esteem I soon ran into tenderness, and all my proceedings immediately assumed the true colour of a strong passion. The ease with which I obtained my former triumphs, had somewhat spoiled me: when I attacked Cydalisa, I imagined she would not hold out long; and that being very much honoured by the pursuit of Mr. Inspector General, she would only make a decent defence. Judge then at the surprise I was thrown into by the answer which she made to my declaration. ‘My lord,’ said she, ‘although I had the presumption to believe that you are touched with some charms, which I am thought to have; yet I should be a fool to listen seriously to those same discourses with which you have deceived thousands, before you addressed them to me. Without esteem, what is love? A trifle, and you do not know me sufficiently to esteem me. Whatever judgment and penetration a person may have, he cannot in two days time enter deep enough into the character of a woman, to say that she deserves to be adored. Mr. Inspector General seeks an amusement; he is in the right; and so is Cydalisa too, in amusing nobody.’

“In vain did I swear to the sincerity of my passion, that my happiness was in her hands, and that her indifference would poison the rest of my life. ‘Jargon,’ said she, ‘pure jargon. Either think no more of me, or do not believe me stupid enough to be catch’d by those trite protestations. What you have just said to me, everybody says without thinking of it, and everybody hears without believing it.’

“If I had had but a bare liking to Cydalisa, her severity would have mortified me: but as I loved her, it afflicted me. I set out for the court: her image followed me thither; and absence, far from weakening the passion which I had conceived for her, did but augment it.

“Cydalisa had so far taken possession of me, that I thought a hundred times to make a sacrifice to her of the employments and rank which bound me to the court: but the uncertainty of success always withheld me.

“In the impossibility of flying to the place where I left her, I formed a project to bring her where I was. I took advantage of the confidence with which Erguebzed honoured me, by extolling the merit and valor of Ostaluk. He was named lieutenant of the Spahis of his guard, an office which fixed him near the prince; and Ostaluk appeared at court, and with him Cydalisa, who instantly became the beauty of the day.”

“You did well,” says the Sultan, “to keep your employments, and call your Cydalisa to court: for I swear to you by Brama, that I should have suffered you to set out alone for the province she was in.”

“She was ogled, surveyed, beset, but all in vain,” continued Selim. “I enjoyed the sole privilege of seeing her every day. The more I visited her, the more graces and good qualities I perceived in her, and the more desperately I became enamoured. I fancied that possibly the remembrance of my numerous adventures might injure me in her mind; in order to efface it, and convince her of the sincerity of my love, I banished myself from company, and I saw no women but those which chance threw in my way at her house. It seemed to me as if this conduct had some effect on her, and that she relaxed somewhat of her former severity. I doubled my diligence, I asked for love, and she granted me esteem. Cydalisa began to treat me with distinction. I had some share in her confidence: she often consulted me on her family affairs, but was quite silent on those of her heart. If I expressed myself in tender sentiments, she answered me in maxims, which made me mad. This painful state had lasted a long time, when I took up the resolution to get out of it, and to know positively once for all, what I might depend on.”

“How did you set about it?” said Mirzoza.

“Madam, you will soon be informed,” answered Mangogul: and Selim continued.

“I have told you, madam, that I saw Cydalisa every day: I began by seeing her less frequently, I went on by slackening my visits more and more, till infine I scarce saw her at all. Whenever I happened to converse with her tête à tête, I spoke as little of love as if I had never felt the least spark of it. This change astonished her: she suspected me of some secret engagement, and one day, as I was making her a narrative of the galantries of the court, ‘Selim,’ said she to me with an air of confusion, ‘you tell me nothing concerning yourself: you relate the good fortune of others charmingly, but you are very discreet with regard to your own.’

“ ‘Madam,’ answered I, ‘ ’tis probably because I have none, or that I think it is proper to conceal it.’

“ ‘To be true,’ interrupted she, ‘ ’tis of vast consequence to conceal those things today, which all the world will know tomorrow.’

“ ‘Be that as it will, madam,’ replied I, ‘yet at least nobody shall have them from me.’

“ ‘Indeed,’ said she, ‘you are quite marvellous with your reserves; but pray who does not know that you have designs upon the fair Misis, the little Zibelina, and the nut-brown Sephera?’

“ ‘And on whom you please besides, madam,’ added I coldly.

“ ‘Truly,’ replied she, ‘I can easily believe that these are not all: these two months past, that the sight of you is a favour, you have not been idle, and business goes on fast with those ladies.’

“ ‘I, to remain idle,’ answered I; ‘I should never forgive myself. My heart is made to love, and somewhat to be beloved too; and I will go so far as to own that it is: but ask me no farther questions on this head, perhaps I have already said too much.’

“ ‘Selim,’ replied she seriously, ‘I have no secret for you, and you shall have none for me, if you please. How far are you advanced?’

“ ‘Almost to the end of the novel.’

“ ‘And with whom?’ said she earnestly.

“ ‘You know Marteza.’

“ ‘Yes, sure; she is a very amiable woman.’

“ ‘Well then, after having in vain tried all means to please you, I turned to that side. I was wished for above half a year; two interviews levell’d the outworks, a third will complete my happiness; and this very night Marteza expects me to supper. Her conversation is amusing, light, and a little caustic; but, that excepted, she is the best creature in the world. A person transacts his little affairs better with those giggling women, than with those lofty dames, who⁠—’

“ ‘But, my Lord,’ interrupted Cydalisa with a downcast look, ‘in complimenting you on your choice, may one observe to you, that Marteza is not new, and that before you, she has reckoned lovers?’

“ ‘What is that to me, madam?’ replied I. ‘If Marteza loves me sincerely, I look on myself as her first. But the hour of my appointment draws near, permit me.’

“ ‘One word more, my Lord. Is it really true that Marteza loves you?’

“ ‘I believe it.’

“ ‘And you love her?’ added Cydalisa.

“ ‘Madam,’ answered I, ‘ ’tis you that have thrown me into the arms of Marteza: I need say no more to you.’⁠—I was departing, but Cydalisa pull’d me by my Doliman, and turned back in a hurry.

“ ‘Does madam want to speak with me? Has she any commands for me?’

“ ‘No, Sir, how, are you there still? I thought you were a good way off by this time.’

“ ‘Madam, I will double my pace.’

“ ‘Selim.’

“ ‘Cydalisa.’

“ ‘Then you are going?’

“ ‘Yes, madam.’

“ ‘Ah! Selim, to whom do you sacrifice me? Was not Cydalisa’s esteem of greater value than the favors of a Marteza?’

“ ‘Without doubt, madam,’ replied I, ‘if I had nothing more than esteem for you. But I loved you.’

“ ‘It is not so,’ cried she with transport: ‘if you had loved me, you would have distinguished my real sentiments; you would have been prepossessed with them, you would have flattered yourself, that your perseverance would in time get the better of my pride: but you grew tired, you have abandoned me, and perhaps in the very moment⁠—’ At this word Cydalisa stopped short, a sigh slipt from her, and her eyes were wet.

“ ‘Speak, madam,’ said I, ‘make an end. If my tenderness lasted still, notwithstanding your rigorous treatment, could you⁠—’

“ ‘I can do nothing, you do no longer love me, and Marteza waits for you.’

“ ‘If Marteza was indifferent to me; if Cydalisa was dearer to me than ever, what would you do?’

“ ‘It would be folly to explain myself on suppositions.’

“ ‘Cydalisa, I beseech you to answer me, as if I had supposed nothing. If Cydalisa was constantly the most lovely of her sex in my eyes; and if I never had the least design on Marteza; once again what would you do?’

“ ‘What I have always done, ingrateful man,’ answered at length Cydalisa: ‘I would love you.’

“ ‘And Selim adores you,’ said I, falling on my knees, and kissing her hands which I water’d with my tears. Cydalisa was struck dumb, this unexpected change threw her into the utmost confusion: I took advantage of her disorder, and our reconciliation was sealed by certain marks of tenderness, which she had not power to refuse.”

“And what did the good natured Ostaluk say to this?” interrupted Mangogul. “Doubtless he allowed his dear half to be generous to a man, to whom he was indebted for his lieutenancy of the Spahis.”

“Prince,” replied Selim, “Ostaluk showed great gratitude, whilst I was not listened to; but no sooner was I made happy, but he became troublesome, ill-humour’d, insupportable to me, and brutal to his wife. Not content with disturbing us in person, he caused us to be watched, we were betrayed, and Ostaluk, convinced of his pretended dishonour, had the impudence to challenge me to a duel. We fought in the great park of the Seraglio: I gave him two wounds, and obliged him to own himself indebted to me for his life.

“While he was under cure of his wounds, I never quitted his wife: but the first use that he made of his recovery, was to part us and ill-use Cydalisa. She sent me a pathetic account of her unhappy situation: I proposed carrying her off, to which she consented, and our jealous pate, returning from the chase, wherein he attended the Sultan, was vastly surprised to find himself a widower. Ostaluk, instead of giving vent to his passion in useless complaints against the author of the rape, instantly meditated revenge.

“I had Cydalisa in a country house, two leagues from Banza; and every other night I stole out of town, and went to Cisara. Meanwhile Ostaluk set a price on the head of his false one, bribed my servants, and was let into my park. That evening I was enjoying the refreshing breeze there with Cydalisa; we were got to the remoter end of a dark walk, and I was on the point of lavishing the most tender caresses on her, when an invisible hand pierced her breast with a poniard before my eyes. It was the hand of cruel Ostaluk. The same fate hung over my head: but I prevented Ostaluk, I drew my dagger, and Cydalisa was revenged. I ran to the dear woman: her heart still panted: I hastened to carry her to the house, but before I reached it she expired, her mouth closely pressing on mine.

“When I perceived Cydalisa’s limbs to grow stiff in my arms, I cried out with vehemence: my people ran to me, and forced me away from this place of horror. I returned to Banza, and shut myself up in my palace, excessively grieved at Cydalisa’s death, and loading myself with the most cruel reproaches. I loved Cydalisa sincerely, and was passionately beloved by her; and I was at full leisure to consider the greatness of the loss, which I had sustained, and to mourn for her.”

“But at length,” said the favorite, “you comforted yourself?”

“Alas! madam,” replied Selim, “I thought I never should; but this one thing I have learnt by it, that there is no grief eternal.”

“Well,” said Mirzoza, “let me hear no more of the men: there they are all. That is to say, Signor Selim, that this poor Cydalisa, whose history has moved us to compassion, and whom you have so much regretted, was a great fool to rely on your oath; and that, while Brama perhaps chastises her severely for her credulity, you pass your time pleasantly enough in the arms of another.”

“Pray, madam,” replied the Sultan, “calm yourself: Selim loves again, Cydalisa will be revenged.”

“Sir,” answered Selim, “your highness may possibly be misinformed. Ought I not to have learnt, once for my whole life, by my adventure with Cydalisa, that true love was too prejudicial to happiness?”

“Without doubt,” interrupted Mirzoza, “and yet I would lay a wager, notwithstanding your philosophical reflections, that you actually love another more ardently than⁠—”

“More ardently,” replied Selim, “I dare not assert: these five years past I am attached, but attached from my heart to a charming woman. It was not without difficulty, that I made her listen to me, for she had always been of a virtue!”

“Virtue!” cried the Sultan; “courage, my friend, I am charmed, when one talks to me of the virtue of a court lady.”

“Selim,” said the favorite, “continue your story.”

“And always believe, as a good mussulman, in the fidelity of your mistress,” added the Sultan.

“Ah! prince,” replied Selim with vivacity, “Fulvia is faithful to me.”

“Faithful, or not,” answered Mangogul, “what is that to your happiness? You believe it, and that is sufficient?”

“Oh then! ’tis Fulvia that you are now in love with,” said the favorite.

“Yes, madam,” answered Selim.

“So much the worse, my friend,” added Mangogul: “I have not a grain of faith in her. She is perpetually beset by Bramins, and these Bramins are terrible fellows: besides, I find she has little Chinese eyes, with a turn’d up nose; and an air thoroughly inclining to the side of pleasure. Between us, is this true?”

“Prince,” answered Selim, “I believe she has no aversion to it.”

“Well,” replied the Sultan, “everything gives way to that charm: which you ought to know better than I, or you are not⁠—”

“You are mistaken,” replied the favorite, “a man may have all the sense in the world, and not know that. I wager⁠—”

“Always wagers,” interrupted Mangogul: “I am out of all patience; those women are incorrigible. Pray, madam, win your castle, and lay wagers afterward.”

“Madam,” says Selim to the favorite, “might not Fulvia be of use to you in some station or other?”

“As how?” ask’d Mirzoza.

“I have observed,” answered the courtier, “that the Toys have seldom or never spoke, but in presence of his highness; and I have fancied, that the Genius Cucufa, who has done so many surprising things in favour of Kanaglou the Sultan’s grandfather, might have endowed his grandson with the gift of making them speak. But Fulvia’s Toy has not as yet opened its mouth, as far as I could ever learn: might it not be possible to interrogate it, in order to procure you the castle, and to convince me of the fidelity of my mistress?”

“Doubtless,” replied the Sultan; “what is your opinion, madam?”

“Oh! I shall not meddle in so ticklish an affair. Selim is too much my friend, to expose him, for the sake of a castle; to the risk of being made unhappy the rest of his days.”

“But you do not consider,” replied the Sultan: “Fulvia is virtuous: Selim would run his hand into the fire to prove it. He has said it, and he is not a man to flinch from his word.”

“No, Prince,” answered Selim, “and if your highness will give me a meeting at Fulvia’s house, I will certainly be there before you.”

“Be cautious of what you propose,” replied the favorite. “Selim, my poor Selim, you go very fast, and how worthy soever you are of being beloved⁠—”

“Fear not, madam; since the die is cast, I will hear Fulvia: the worst that can befall me, is to lose a faithless woman.”

“And to die of regret,” added the Sultana, “for having lost her.”

“What a romance,” says Mangogul. “You believe then that Selim is become very weak. He has lost the lovely Cydalisa, and yet there he is full of life; and you pretend, that if he happened to find Fulvia unfaithful to him, it would kill him. I’ll insure him to you as immortal, if he is never demolished but by that stroke. Selim, tomorrow at Fulvia’s, do you hear? you will have notice of the hour.” Selim bow’d, Mangogul quitted the company: the favorite continued to remonstrate to the old courtier, that he play’d a high game. Selim thank’d her for her tokens of good will, and each retired in expectation of the great event.