The Princess of Ponthieu: (in) The New-York Weekly Magazine or Miscellaneous RepositoryUnknown
General
The Princess of Ponthieu: (in) The New-York Weekly Magazine or Miscellaneous Repository
Unknown
Princesses -- Fiction
inspire your heart with those sentiments, that will be conducive to my
felicity, and your repose.' I could not refrain from tears at this
discourse of the Sultan:---the choice appeared terrible to me; 'Is it
possible, my lord!' replied I, 'that among the number of beauties who
would be proud of the honour you offer me, you cannot find one more
worthy than myself? If you had not distinguished me, your subjects would
have thought nothing of me.---Consider, my lord, what glory you might
gain by subduing your passion, and suffering me to return to my native
country.---What felicity can it be, to live with a woman obtained but by
fear and force, who will always be regretting her parents and liberty.'
"The Sultan smiled at these words; 'I see, madam,' said he, 'that you
are ignorant of your own condition---you are in this place for
life---when once a woman has entered within these walls, there is no
hope of ever getting out again, law and custom have decreed it so.
Therefore you are more obliged to me than you imagined, for the respect
I have paid you, being from the first moment the master of your
destiny.' I then intreated he would give me three days to answer him;
he granted my request, and I spent them in prayers: but at length seeing
myself without any hope of relief, or ever returning to my country, that
my death there was thought certain, and that I had no means of letting
you know I was living, or if I had, could not promise myself, that,
since you had consented to my death, the news would find a welcome:
I looked on myself as utterly abandoned; and the facility of following
in private my own devotions, determined me, in submitting to the
Sultan's persuasions. The three days being expired, he came to me again,
and I then told him, that if he would swear never to force me to alter
my religion, I was ready to give him my hand. His joy at my consent was
inconceiveable; and though he saw plainly that what I did was out of
necessity, he assured me he thought himself the happiest man on earth,
and bound himself by an oath sacred in their law, to suffer me to
exercise my own religion, provided I took care not to be discovered.
* * * * *
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Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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