"If you try to go away, and leave us here, we will set the palace on fire, and, holding you in our arms, we will all be burned together." The majority of the rebels seemed to be delighted with such an idea, for they screamed out louder than ever: "Yes, yes, let us take the good Frank in our arms, and all perish with him in the flames of his palace." I observed a trait that was worthy of La Bruyère. The gentle Anathasia was one of the most ferocious of the incendiary party. Although this threatened mode of death was worthy of Sardanapalus, I preferred to live as I was, and being now quite convinced that I was adored by my household, I told them that I renounced my projects of departure. My modesty forbids me saying with what effusion, what transports of joy, my decision was welcomed by those good girls. The whole twelve of them took hold of each other's hands, and formed a circle. Noémi, as the antique theorist, improvised these simple words, which her companions repeated to the air of their national hymn, "The Swallows." "At Khios we remain, Dance, sisters, dance, At Khios we remain, We stay with the good Frank. "He never beats us, he treats us well, Dance, sisters, dance, We will always have beautiful fezzes, Beautiful embroidered yellaks, Beautiful silk sashes. "We will eat tender roasted kids, Fat partridges and quails, Honey from Hymettus, wine from Scyros. Dance, sisters, dance, The good Frank lets us stay. "Dance, sisters, dance, We till the soil no more, No more we mend the roads, Dance, sisters, dance. "We will bathe beneath the sycamores, We will not work at all, Only pluck fruit and flowers for him, The good Frank who keeps us." If I had been blinded by any conceit, I should have had my self-respect somewhat wounded on learning that the roast kid, fat partridges, Scyros wine, beautiful clothes, and idleness, were prominent features in the intense affection these simple creatures bore me. But, fortunately, I am wiser than that, and can see through their devotion. Formerly I had some doubts as to my powers of attraction, but now, how can I help believing in the charm with which I was invested if it can attach these slaves to me so devotedly? My charms are easily understood, they are the fat partridges, the roasted kids, the golden belts, and embroidered yellaks. Oh, happy future! As long as there are any embroiderers and silk weavers in the Isle of Khios, I will be sure of admiration. I, who until now could never believe in disinterested affection, am obliged to have blind faith in the love I inspire. It is surely easy to believe these truthful creatures, when they tell me that they love to be elegantly clothed, well fed, and not beaten. I cannot accuse them of duplicity when they say that they like to do nothing harder than pick fruit and flowers, or bathe in the marble pool, in the shade of the plane-trees.