At the three days’ end, the fair slave, gloriously dressed and set off, was alone in her chamber, sitting upon a sofa, and leaning against one of the windows that faced the sea, when the king, being informed that he might visit her, came in. The slave hearing somebody walk in the room, with an air quite different from that of the women slaves who had hitherto attended her, immediately turned her head about to see who it was. She knew him to be the king; but without discovering the least surprise, or so much as rising from her seat to salute or receive him, as if he had been the meanest person in the world, she put herself in the same posture again. The king of Persia was extremely surprised to see a slave of so beauteous a form so ignorant of the world. He attributed this piece of ill breeding to the narrowness of her education, and the little care that was taken of instructing her at first in the rules of civility and good manners. He went to her at the window, where, notwithstanding the coldness and indifferency with which she had just now received him, she suffered herself to be admired, caressed, and embraced, as much as he pleased. In the midst of these amorous embraces and tender endearments, this monarch paused a while to gaze upon, or rather to devour her with his eyes: My goddess! my angel! my charmer! cried the king; whence came you? and where do those happy parents live that brought into the world so surprising a masterpiece of nature as you are? Ah! how I adore you! and my passion shall continue the same. Never did I feel for a woman what I now suffer for you: and though I have seen, and do see every day, a vast number of beauties, yet never did my eyes behold so many charms in one single person, which have so transported me out of myself, that I am no longer at my own, but entirely at your disposal. My dearest life, continued he, you neither answer me, nor by any visible token give me the least reason to believe that you are sensible of the many demonstrations I have given you of the violence of my passion; neither will you turn your eyes on me, to afford mine the pleasure of meeting them with an amorous glance, and to convince you that it is impossible to love more than I do you. Why will you still keep this obstinate silence, which freezes me to death? and whence proceeds the seriousness, or rather sorrow, that torments me to the soul? Do you mourn for your country, your friends, or your relations? Alas! is not the king of Persia, who loves and adores you, capable of comforting and making you amends for the loss of every thing in the world? What protestations of love soever the king of Persia made the fair slave to oblige her to speak to him, she continued her astonishing reservedness, and keeping her eyes still fixed on the ground, would not so much as open her lips.