Mangogul, who had suspended the energy of his ring, turn’d it on, and the antiquated Toy, uttering a deep, sigh, fell to jabbering, and said: “Alas! how I am grieved for the death of my large greyhound; she was the best little wife, the most caressing creature: she never ceased giving amusement. She was so sensible, so genteel. Ye are but beasts in comparison of her. That naughty master of mine killed her.⁠—Poor Zinzolina, I never think of her, without watering my plants. I thought it would have been the death of my mistress. She neither eat nor drank for two days, and narrowly escaped losing her senses. Judge of her sorrow: her director, her friends, nay her very pug-dogs were kept from me. Orders were issued to her women to refuse the door of her apartment to my master, under the penalty of being turn’d off.⁠—‘That monster has robb’d me of my dear Zinzolina,’ cried she; ‘let him not appear before me, I am resolved never to see him more.’ ”