Honain knew well, but he was too politic not to affect ignorance.
‘The daughter of a bandit,’ continued the Princess, ‘who fought by the side of her father. That is existence! I must be a robber. ‘Tis in the blood. I want my fate foretold, Honain. You are an astrologer; do it.’
‘I have already cast your nativity. Your star is à comet.’
‘That augurs well; brilliant confusion and erratic splendour. I wish I were a star,’ added the Princess in a deep rich voice, and with a pensive air; ‘a star in the clear blue sky, beautiful and free. Honain, Honain, the gazelle has broken her chain, and is eating my roses.’
Alroy rushed forward and seized the graceful truant. Honain shot him an anxious look; the Princess received the chain from the hand of Alroy, and cast at him a scrutinising glance.
‘What splendid eyes the poor beast has got!’ exclaimed the Princess.
‘The gazelle?’ inquired the physician.
‘No, your slave,’ replied the Princess. ‘Why, he blushes. Were he not deaf as well as dumb, I could almost believe he understood me.’
‘He is modest,’ replied Honain, rather alarmed; ‘and is frightened at the liberty he has taken.’
‘I like modesty,’ said the Princess; ‘it is interesting. I am modest; you think so?’