He went home, and shut himself up for some days, less grieved for his loss, than for his long error. Not his heart, but his vanity suffered. He dreaded the reproches of the favorite, and the jokes of the Sultan; and he shun’d the one and the other.

He was upon the point of resolving to renounce the court, to go into retirement, and turn philosopher for the remaining part of a life, of which he had thrown away a great part in quality of a courtier; when Mirzoza, who guess’d his thoughts, undertook to comfort him, sent for him to the Seraglio, and made him this speech. “Well, my poor Selim, then you abandon me? ’Tis not Fulvia, it is me that you punish for her infidelity. We are all concerned for your adventure, we agree that it is vexatious: but if you set any value on the Sultan’s protection and my esteem, you will continue to enliven our company, and you will forget that Fulvia, who never was worthy of a man like you.”