You
cannot but know that unhappy people have a certain consolation in
venting their misfortunes; and if you be pleased to relate yours,
I doubt not that you will find some relief in so doing.
Why then, said she, lend your ear to a story the most afflicting
that can be imagined. You must know, when I first saw the thieves
entering with sword in hand, I believed it the last moment of my
life: but dying did not then seem so shocking to me, since I
thought I was to die with the prince of Persia. However, instead
of murdering, two of the thieves were ordered to take care of us,
whilst their companions were busied in packing up the goods which
they found in the house. When they had done, and had got their
bundles upon their backs, they went away, carrying us along with
them.
As we went along one of those who had the charge of us demanded
of me briskly who I was: I answered, I was a dancer. He put the
same question to the prince, who replied that he was a
shopkeeper.
When they were come to the place whither they were going, I had
new fears to alarm me; for they gathered about us, and, after
considering well my habit, and the rich jewels I was adorned
with, they seemed to think that I had disguised my quality.
Dancers, said they, do not use to be dressed as you are; pray
tell us truly who you are.
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