Early in my reign, whilst one day walking near the sea-shore, I was struck by the appearance of a little girl who was attending a flock of goats.  A kid had fallen over a rock into the sea.  The child was a lovely creature, with a beautiful complexion, handsome and expressive eyes, small hands and feet, and silken hair flowing over her shoulders.  Her beauty was heightened by the expression of tenderness and grief at the loss of the kid.  I was greatly interested, and watched her movements unperceived.  She showed great intelligence and presence of mind.

Near the sea grows a peculiar kind of stringy reed, very strong and pliable.  She tied several of these reeds together, made a noose at one end, and with the other end tied herself to a rock near the edge of the precipice, that she might not overbalance herself, and be dragged down in her endeavours to recover her kid.  She then threw down the noose at the other end of the line, and after one or two attempts succeeded with great dexterity in getting it round the body of the kid, which she gradually hauled up to the rock where she stood.  Her movements were most graceful, and her address and dexterity truly astonishing.  As soon as her success was complete she fondled and embraced the kid as though it had been a favourite sister whom she had saved.

In straining over the precipice she had drawn the knot that secured her to the rock so tight that she could not liberate herself until I came to her assistance and set her free.  I then talked with her, and found that she had remarkable capacity, tenderness, and sweetness of nature, but was altogether uninstructed.  I said to myself, it is impossible that a creature could be found so beautiful and intelligent unless Providence had intended her for something better than her present occupation.

By my orders she was thoroughly educated and cared for.  She showed great aptitude for her appointed studies, and having passed one ordeal after another with great honour, she was ultimately, thanks to our institutions, deemed worthy of a superior rank, and became one of our great ladies.  In mind, form, and feature, she was a remarkable person, and her manners were most sweet and fascinating.  She was a frequent guest at my palace.  I delighted in her discourse on the rare occasions when my occupations gave me the opportunity of conversation.

Gratitude to her benefactor had given rise to a deep affection.  Observing this I told her that the peculiarity of my position, and the necessity for completing my great work, had decided me not to marry, and that the affection of a friend was all that I could give her.  Marry, I said, and I will always watch over you.  Had I married, she would have been my choice.  In obedience to my wishes, she allowed the “marriage choice meeting” to be called.  She was so beautiful and engaging that the number of competitors was far beyond that required to complete the meeting.  The suitors selected were the most promising young men in the city, and held the highest positions, but all the three several marriage meetings remained without result, except to confirm her resolution not to marry.