Sultan Mangogul and the Favourite.
[CHAP. XLIX.]
Twenty-ninth Trial of the Ring.
Zuleiman and Zaide.
Mangogul, without answering the favorite's joke, departed instantly, and went to Zaide's house. He found her retired in a closet, at a small table, on which he observed some letters, a portrait, and some trifles scatter'd here and there, which came from a cherished lover, as it was easy to presume, by the fondness she expressed for them. She was writing; tears ran down her cheeks, and wetted the paper. Every now and then she kiss'd the portrait with transport opened the letters, wrote some words, returned to the portrait, snatched up the above mentioned trifles, and pressed them to her breast.
The Sultan's astonishment was incredible; he had never seen any tender woman, but the favorite and Zaide. He thought himself beloved by Mirzoza: but did not Zaide love Zuleiman better still? And were not this pair the only true lovers of Congo.
The tears, which Zaide shed in writing, were not tears of sorrow. 'Twas love that made them flow. And in that moment, a delicious sentiment, which arose from a certainty of possessing the heart of Zuleiman, was the only one that affected her. "Dear Zuleiman," cry'd she, "how I love thee! how dear thou art to me! How agreeably thou employest me! In those instants, when Zaide has not the happiness of seeing thee, she writes to thee how much she is thine: separated from Zuleiman, his love is the only conversation which gives her pleasure."
Zaide was thus far advanced in her amorous meditation, when Mangogul pointed his ring at her. Immediately he heard her Toy send forth a sigh and repeat the first words of her mistress's monology. "Dear Zuleiman, how I love thee! how dear thou art to me! how agreeably thou employest me!" Zaide's heart and Toy were too well agreed, to vary in their discourse. Zaide was surprized at first; but she was so sure that her Toy would say nothing, but what Zuleiman might hear with pleasure, that she wish'd him present.
Mangogul repeated his trial, and Zaide's Toy repeated with a soft tender voice: "Zuleiman, dear Zuleiman, how I love thee! how dear thou art to me!" "Zuleiman," says the Sultan, "is the happiest mortal of my empire. Let us abandon this place, where the image of a happiness greater than mine is presented to my sight, and afflicts me." Accordingly he withdrew, and went to his favorite with an air of inquietude and pensiveness. "Prince," says she, "what ails you, you say nothing to me of Zaide?"——"Zaide is an adorable woman, madam," replied Mangogul. "She loves beyond any thing that ever loved"—"So much the worse for her," says Mirzoza. "What do you say?" replied the Sultan.——"I say," answers the favorite, "that Kermades is one of the most disagreeable persons of Congo; that interest and the authority of the parents made that match; and that there never was a couple worse sorted than Kermades and Zaide."