"'Tis pretty well," said Mangogul within himself; but still he urged afresh. "Lud, how teizing you are," resumed the Toy: "As if one had nothing better to do than to prate. Come then, since it must be so, let us prate on: perhaps when I have told all, I shall be permitted to do something else. "My Mistress Fannia," continued the Toy, "thro' an inconceivable spirit of retirement, quitted the court, to shut her self up in her house at Banza. It was then the beginning of autumn, and every body was out of town. And if you ask me what she did there; Faith, I can't tell. But Fannia never did but one thing; and if she had been employ'd that way, I should have known it. Probably she was out of work: true, I now recollect, we spent a day and a half in perfect idleness, which threw us into a cruel fit of the vapors. "I was heart-sick of this sort of life, when Amisadar was so good to relieve us from it.---'Ah! you are there, my poor Amisadar, indeed you give me great pleasure. You come to me very opportunely.'----'And who knew that you were at Banza?' replied Amisadar.--'No body truly; and neither you nor any one else will ever imagine what brought me hither. Don't you guess at the cause?'----'No, really, I cannot comprehend it.'--'Not at all?'--'No, not at all.'--'Well then know, my dear, that I resolved to be converted'--'You, to be converted?'----'Yes, I'----'Look on me a little: but you are as charming as ever, and I see nothing in that countenance that bespeaks conversion. This is all pleasantry'----'No, faith, I am serious. I am determined to renounce the world. I am tired of it'----'This is a whim, that will soon fly off. Let me die, if ever you run into devotion'----'I will, I tell you: there is no sincerity in man'----'Pray has Mazul fail'd you?'----'I have not seen him this age.'----'Then it must be Zumpholo?'----'Less still, I have ceased seeing him, I can't tell how, without thinking about it.'----'Ah! I have it, 'tis young Imola?'--'Good, who can fix such fribbles?'--'What is it then?'----'I can't tell, I am angry with the whole earth?'----'Ah! Madam, you are in the wrong; for this earth, at which you are angry, might furnish you wherewithal to repair your losses.'----'Then, Amisadar, you sincerely believe that there are still some good souls, who have escaped from the corruption of the age, and are capable of love?'----'How, love! Is it possible that you give into those pitiful notions? you expect to be loved, you?'----'And why not?'----'But reflect, madam, that a man who loves, pretends to be loved, and alone too. You have too much good sense, to enslave your self to the jealousies and caprices of a tender and faithful lover. Nothing so fatiguing as these folks. To see but them, to love but them, to dream of none but them, to have no wit, humour, or charms but for them; all this most certainly does not suit you. It would be pleasant to see you stive yourself up in, what is called, the noble passion, and give your self all the awkward