‘You would soon be tired of that,’ replied the physician.
‘I suppose common people are never tired.’ said the Princess.
‘Except with labour;’ said the physician; ‘care keeps them alive.’
‘What is care?’ asked the Princess, with a smile.
‘It is a god,’ replied the physician, ‘invisible, but omnipotent. It steals the bloom from the cheek and lightness from the pulse; it takes away the appetite, and turns the hair grey.’
‘It is no true divinity, then,’ replied the Princess, ‘but an idol we make ourselves. I am a sincere Moslem, and will not worship it. Tell me some news, Honain.’
‘The young King of Karasmé——’
‘Again! the barbarian! You are in his pay. I’ll none of him. To leave one prison, and to be shut up in another,—why do you remind me of it? No, my dear Hakim, if I marry at all, I will marry to be free.’
‘An impossibility,’ said Honain.
‘My mother was free till she was a queen and a slave. I intend to end as she began. You know what she was.’