called me back, influxo malo del clima! y tuve luego la resolucion de irme a una tierra donde pudiese gozar mis fueros, sin partir los con un usurpador. I travelled into old Castille, where I was brought back to my simple functions: but this did not gratify my revenge. Le impuse la tarea de batter el compas en los bayles que celebraba de dia y de noche; and he performed so well, that we were reconciled. We appear’d at the court of Madrid as good friends. Al entrar de la ciudad, I link’d con un Pape venerable por sus canas: happily for me: for he had compassion for my youth, and gave me a secret, the fruit of sixty years experience, para guardar me del mal de que merecieron los Franceses ser padrinos, por haber sido sus primeros pregones. With this receipt, and a relish for cleanliness, which I vainly endeavoured to introduce in Spain, I preserved myself from all accidents at Madrid, where my vanity alone was mortified. My mistress, you know, has a very little foot. Esta prenda es el incentivo mas poderoso de una imaginación Castellana. A little foot, serves for a pasport at Madrid to a girl, que tiene la mas dilatada fima entre las piernas. I resolved to quit a country, where I owed the greatest part of my triumphs to a foreign merit; y me arrimé a un definidor muy virtuoso que pasaba a las Indias. Under the wings of his reverence I saw the land of promise, that country where the happy mortal without scandal carries gold in his purse, a poniard under his girdle, and his mistress behind him. How delightful a life is spent there! What nights! Gods, what nights! Hay de mi! al recordarme de tantos gustos me méo⁠—Algo mas⁠—Ya, ya⁠—Pierdo el sentido⁠—Me muero⁠—

“After spending a year at Madrid, and in America, I embarked for Constantinople. There I could not relish the customs of a people, by whom Toys are lock’d up; and I soon quitted a country, in which my liberty was in danger. However, I practised sufficiently with the Mussulmans, to perceive that they are much improved by their commerce with the Europeans: and I found in them the levity of the French, the ardor of the English, the strength of the Germans, the longanimity of the Spaniards, together with strong tinctures of the Italian refinements: in a word, a single Aga is worth a cardinal, four dukes, a lord, three grandees of Spain, and two German princes.

“From Constantinople I came, as you know, gentlemen, to the court of the great Erguebzed, where I formed the most amiable of our nobility: and when at length I became good for nought, I threw myself on that odd figure there,” says the Toy, singling out Cypria’s husband by a certain familiar gesture. “Gods, what a fall!”

The African author closes this chapter with an advertisement to the ladies, who might be tempted to order a translation of those parts of the narrative, where Cypria’s Toy expressed itself in foreign languages. “I should be wanting,” says he, “to the duty of an historian, by suppressing them; and to the respect which I bear the sex, by preserving them in my work; without acquainting virtuous ladies, that Cypria’s Toy had excessively spoil’d its speech in travelling, and that its narratives are infinitely more free than any of the clandestine lectures which it ever made.”

XLV

Cydalisa

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

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