“Pardon me, madam,” replied the old courtier. “They have scarcely any other word in their mouths. But the French women are no more slaves to the thing than their neighbors.”
“What neighbors?” says Mirzoza. “The English women,” replied Selim, “who are cold and scornful in appearance, but passionate, voluptuous, vindictive; less witty and more rational than the French women. These love the jargon of sentiment, those prefer the expression of pleasure. But at London as at Paris, people love, separate, rejoin to separate again. From the daughter of a lord bishop (these are a sort of Bramins who do not keep celibacy) I passed to a baronet’s wife. While he was warmly supporting the interest of the nation in the house of commons, against the attempts of the court; his wife and I had quite different debates in his house. But the session was closed, and madam was obliged to attend her knight to his manor. I then light upon a colonel’s wife, whose regiment was quartered along the seacoast: I afterwards belong’d to the lady mayoress. Ah, what a woman! I should never have seen Congo again, if the prudence of my governor, who saw me wasting away, had not redeemed me from this galley. He counterfeited letters from my family, which recalled me with all possible expedition, and we embarked for Holland: our design was to travel through Germany into Italy, where we expected frequent opportunities of vessels to carry us to Afric.
“We saw Holland only in riding post; and did not tarry much longer in Germany. All the women of rank there resemble important citadels, which must be besieged in form. They are to be reduced, but the approaches require so many measures, there are so many ifs and buts, when the articles of capitulation are to be settled, that those conquests soon tired me.
“I shall never forget the expression of a German lady of the first quality, on the subject of granting me what she had not refused to several others. ‘Alas!’ cried she mournfully, ‘what would my father the great Alkizi say, if he knew that I abandon myself to such a low creature as a Congese.’
“ ‘He shall say nothing, madam,’ replied I: ‘so much grandeur affrights me, and I withdraw.’ It was wisely done of me; for if my mediocrity had compromised with her highness, I might have repented it. Brama, who protects the wholesome climes, which we inhabit, inspired me without doubt in this critical moment.
“The Italian ladies, whom we frequented afterwards, are not mounted on so high a pin. It was with them that I learned the modes of pleasure. There is indeed much caprice and whim in those refinements; but you will pardon me, ladies, if I say, that sometimes there is no pleasing you without them. From Venice and Rome I brought some merry receipts before my time unknown in our barbarous country. But I restore all the glory of them to the Italian women, who communicated them to me.
“I spent about four years in Europe, and returned through Egypt into this empire, modelled as you see, and stock’d with the rare secrets of Italy, which I soon divulged.”
Here, says the African author, Selim perceiving that the commonplace language, which he held to the favorite on his adventures in Europe, and on the characters of the women of the countries through which he passed, had plunged Mangogul into a deep sleep, was afraid of awaking him; and therefore drew near to the favorite, and continued in a lower voice.
“Madam,” said he, “were I not apprehensive that I have tired you by a narrative, which has perhaps been already too long; I would relate you the adventure, by which I commenced my operations on my arrival at Paris: I cannot think how it has escaped me.”
“Tell it, my good friend,” answered the favorite; “I will double my attention, and make amends, as much as I am able, for the Sultan’s inattention, who sleeps.”
“At Madrid,” continued Selim, “we had taken recommendations for some lords of the court of France, and at our setting foot in Paris we found ourselves loaded with protestations of friendship. It was then the pleasant season of the year, and in the evenings my governor and I went to walk in the gardens of the Palais Royal. One day we were joined there by some Petits-Maîtres, who showed us the most celebrated beauties, and gave us their history, true, or false, not forgetting themselves on every occasion, as you may well imagine. The garden was already stock’d by a great number of women; but there arrived a considerable reinforcement about eight o’clock. By the quantity of their jewels, the magnificence of their dress, and the crowd of their attendants, I took them for dutchesses at least. I spoke my thoughts to one of the young lords of the company, whose answer was, that he found I was a connoisseur; and if I was inclined, I should have the pleasure of supping that very night with some of the most lovely of them. I accepted his offer, and in an instant he slipt a word into the ears of two or three of his friends, who dispersed themselves into different parts of the walks, and in less than a quarter of an hour returned to give us an account of their negotiation. ‘Gentlemen,’ said they to us, ‘you are expected this night to supper at the dutchess Asteria’s.’ Those who were not of the party, congratulated us on our good fortune: and after some turns in the gardens, they left us, and we went into our coach, in order to reap the benefit of it.
“We alight at a little door, at the foot of a very narrow pair of stairs, where we climbed up to a second floor; and I found the apartments more spacious and better furnished than they would appear to me at present. I was presented to the mistress of the house, to whom
