I wish you a good appetite."—"Farewell!"
Replied the other; "though it grieves me sore:
When we next meet, we'll have a tale to tell:
We needs must follow when Fate puts from shore.
Keep your good name; though Eve herself once fell."
"Nay," quoth the maid, "the Sultan's self shan't carry me,
Unless his Highness promises to marry me."
LXXXV.
And thus they parted, each by separate doors;
Baba led Juan onward, room by room,