“Madam,” answered Selim, “age admonishes me that it is high time for me to retire. I have sufficiently seen the world; and four days ago I would have boasted that I knew it. But Fulvia’s stroke confounds me. Women are indefinable, and I should hate them all, if you had not been included in the sex, of which you have all the charms. May Brama grant, that you never imbibe their perverseness. Farewell, madam, I am going to give myself up to useful reflections in solitude. The remembrance of the favours, with which you and the Sultan have honoured me, will follow me thither; and if my heart forms any vows henceforth, they will be for your happiness and his glory.”

“Selim,” replied the favorite, “your chagrin is your adviser. You are afraid of mockery, which you will less avoid by withdrawing from court, than by remaining at it. Have as much philosophy as you will, this is not the time to put it in practice; your retreat will be attributed to peevishness and melancholy. You are not framed to confine yourself in a desert; and the Sultan⁠—”