"I think you said the king was there, sister, didn't you?"
"No, madam," says she, "that was the second time, when they said the king had heard how finely the Turkish lady danced, and that he was there to see her; but the king, if his Majesty was there, came disguised."
"That is, what they call incog.," says my friend the Quaker; "thou canst not think the king would disguise himself." "Yes," says the girl, "it was so; he did not come in public with his guards, but we all knew which was the king well enough, that is to say, which they said was the king."
"Well," says the captain's wife, "about the Turkish dress; pray let us hear that." "Why," says she, "my lady sat in a fine little drawing-room, which opened into the great room, and where she received the compliments of the company; and when the dancing began, a great lord," says she, "I forget who they called him (but he was a very great lord or duke, I don't know which), took her out, and danced with her; but after a while, my lady on a sudden shut the drawing-room, and ran upstairs with her woman, Mrs. Amy; and though she did not stay long (for I suppose she had contrived it all beforehand), she came down dressed in the strangest figure that ever I saw in my life; but it was exceeding fine."
Here she went on to describe the dress, as I have done already; but did it so exactly, that I was surprised at the manner of her telling it; there was not a circumstance of it left out.
I was now under a new perplexity, for this young slut gave so complete an account of everything in the dress, that my friend the Quaker coloured at it, and looked two or three times at me, to see if I did not do so too; for (as she told me afterwards) she immediately perceived it was the same dress that she had seen me have on, as I have said before. However, as she saw I took no notice of it, she kept her thought private to herself; and I did so too, as well as I could.
I put in two or three times, that she had a good memory, that could be so particular in every part of such a thing.
"Oh, madam!" says she, "we that were servants, stood by ourselves in a corner, but so as we could see more than some strangers; besides," says she, "it was all our conversation for several days in the family, and what one did not observe another did." "Why," says I to her, "this was no Persian dress; only, I suppose your lady was some French comedian, that is to say, a stage Amazon, that put on a counterfeit dress to please the company, such as they used in the play of Tamerlane at Paris, or some such."
"No, indeed, madam," says she, "I assure you my lady was no actress; she was a fine modest lady, fit to be a princess; everybody said if she was a mistress, she was fit to be a mistress to none but the king; and they talked her up for the king as if it had really been so. Besides, madam," says she, "my lady danced a Turkish dance; all the lords and gentry said it was so; and one of them swore he had seen it danced in Turkey himself, so that it could not come from the theatre at Paris; and then the name Roxana," says she, "was a Turkish name."
"Well," said I, "but that was not your lady's name, I suppose?"