“The wretched Hilas, cried down in his native country, resolved to travel, and seek a remedy for his disease in remote climes. He set out alone, and arrived incognito at the court of the Abyssinian emperor. The young stranger was singled out by the ladies, and the contest was, who should have him: but Hilas prudently avoided all engagements, in which he had apprehensions of not finding his account, proportionable to his certainty that the women who pursued him would not find theirs in him. But observe and admire the penetration of the sex: ‘a man so young, so comely, and so modest,’ said they, ‘is quite a prodigy:’ and the union of these qualities in him had almost made them suspect his real defect; so as, for fear of allowing him what an accomplished man should have, to refuse him the very thing which he wanted.
“After having for some time studied the chart of the country, Hilas linked an acquaintance with a young woman, who, by some unknown caprice, had passed from refined gallantry to the highest devotion. He gradually insinuated himself into her confidence, espoused her notions, copied her practices, handed her in and out of the temples, and conversed with her so frequently on the vanity of worldly pleasures, that he insensibly revived her taste, as well as remembrance of them. They had now, for above a month, frequented the mosques, assisted at sermons, and visited the sick together, when he prepared himself for a thorough cure; but all in vain. His devote friend, though intimately acquainted with all the transactions of heaven, knew as well as others, how a man should be made on earth: and the poor lad lost in a moment all the fruits of his good works. If anything consoled him, it was, that his secret was inviolably kept. One word would have rendered his disease incurable; but this word was not uttered, and Hilas linked in with some other pious women, whom he took, one after another, for the specific ordained by the oracle, and who did not break his enchantment, because they loved him only for what he was not. The habit, they had acquired of spiritualizing all objects, was of no service to him. They required sense, but it was of that sort which springs from pleasure. Hilas complained that they did not love him. But their answer was, ‘pray, sir, are you ignorant, that people should know each other, before they love; nay, you must acknowledge, that, disgraced as you are, you are not lovely even when you are known.’
“ ‘Alas!’ said he retiring, ‘this pure love, so much talked of, is nowhere to be found; this delicacy of sentiments, upon which both sexes value themselves, is a mere chimaera. The oracle has deceived me, and my disease is for life.’
“In his way, he met some of those women, who allow no other commerce with man, but that of the heart, and who hate a forward spark like a toad. They so seriously recommended to him to let nothing gross and terrestrial enter into his views, that he conceived great hopes of his cure. He complied heartily, and was quite astonished, after the amorous conversations, which they held with him, that he still remained as he was. ‘I must certainly be cured,’ said he to himself, ‘but perhaps otherwise than by words:’ and he sought an occasion of placing himself according to the intentions of the oracle. Thus it soon offered. A young female platonic, who was excessively fond of walking, led him into a lonesome wood and when they had penetrated far from the reach of any impertinent eye, the fair one was seized with a fainting fit. Hilas threw himself on her, and neglected nothing in his power to relieve her; but all his endeavours were fruitless: of which she soon became as sensible as himself.
“ ‘Ah! Sir,’ cried she, disengaging herself from his arms, ‘what sort of man are you? I shall be very cautious of ever venturing thus into lonesome places, where I have been taken so ill, and may die a hundred times for want of help.’
“Others knew his condition, pitied him, protested to him, that the tenderness they had conceived for him, should not change; and never saw him more.
“The miserable Hilas, with his graceful figure, and the most refined sentiments, gave great dissatisfaction to many ladies.”
“Then he was a fool,” interrupted the Sultan. “Why did he not address some of the vestals, of which our monasteries are full? They would be charmed with him, and he would infallibly receive his cure through a grate.”
“Prince,” replied Selim, “chronicles assure us, that he tried that method, and found by experience, that the sex of all conditions do not care to love to their certain loss.”
“If that be the case,” said the Sultan, “I take his distemper to be incurable.”
“So did he himself as well as your highness,” continued Selim; “and tired out with unsuccessful trials, he plunged himself into solitude, on the word of an infinite number of women, who had expresly declared to him, that he was useless in society.
“He had already been several days rambling in a desert, when he heard some sighs issuing from a lonely place. He listened, the sighs began again, he drew near, and saw a young maiden, fair as the morn, her head leaning on her hand, her eyes bathed in tears, and the rest of her body in a pensive and mournful posture.
“ ‘What seek you here, madam?’ said he to her. ‘And are these deserts made
