“You shall have tidings of this affair within an hour,” replied Mangogul. “Do you not remember the properties of my ring?”⁠—At these words, he went into the garden, turn’d his ring, and in less than fifteen minutes was in the park of the castle wherein Egle dwelt.

There he espied Egle alone and overwhelm’d with sorrow: her head was leaning on her hand, she was tenderly repeating her husband’s name, and with her tears she was watering the green turf, on which she sat. Mangogul drawing near turn’d his ring on her, and Egle’s Toy said in a mournful strain: “I love Celebi.” The Sultan waited for the sequel; but as it came not, he had recourse to his ring, which he rubb’d two or three times against his hat, before he levell’d it on Egle: but his labour was vain. The Toy repeated: “I love Celebi,” and stop’d short. “There is a very discreet Toy,” said the Sultan. “Let us try once more, and ply it closer.” Whereupon he gave to his ring all the energy, which it was capable of receiving, and turn’d it nimbly on Egle: but her Toy continued mute. It either constantly kept silence, or broke it only by repeating these plaintive words: “I love Celebi, and have never loved any other man.”