THE sultana seemed in a very good humour, and talked to me with the utmost civility.  I did not omit this opportunity of learning all that I possibly could of the seraglio, which is so entirely unknown amongst us.  She assured me, that the story of the sultan’s throwing a handkerchief, is altogether fabulous; and the manner, upon that occasion, no other than this:  He sends the kyslir aga, to signify to the lady the honour he intends her.  She is immediately complimented upon it, by the others, and led to the bath, where she is perfumed and dressed in the most magnificent and becoming manner.  The emperor precedes his visit by a royal present, and then comes into her apartment:  neither is there any such thing as her creeping in at the bed’s foot.  She said, that the first he made choice of was always after the first in rank, and not the mother of the eldest son, as other writers would make us believe.  Sometimes the sultan diverts himself in the company of all his ladies, who stand in a circle round him.  And she confessed, they were ready to die with envy and jealousy of the happy she that he distinguished by any appearance of preference.  But this seemed to me neither better nor worse than the circles in most courts, where the glance of the monarch is watched, and every smile is waited for with impatience, and envied by those who cannot obtain it.

SHE never mentioned the sultan without tears in her eyes, yet she seemed very fond of the discourse.  “My past happiness, said she, “appears a dream to me.  Yet I cannot forget, that I was beloved by “the greatest and most lovely of mankind.  I was chosen from all the “rest, to make all his campaigns with him; and I would not survive “him, if I was not passionately fond of the princess my daughter.  “Yet all my tenderness for her was hardly enough to make me preserve “my life.  When I left him, I passed a whole twelvemonth without “seeing the light.  Time has softened my despair; yet I now pass some “days every week in tears, devoted to the memory of my sultan.”  There was no affectation in these words.  It was easy to see she was in a deep melancholy, though her good humour made her willing to divert me.

SHE asked me to walk in her garden, and one of her slaves immediately brought her a pellice of rich brocade lined with sables.  I waited on her into the garden, which had nothing in it remarkable but the fountains; and from thence she shewed me all her apartments.  In her bed-chamber, her toilet was displayed, consisting of two looking-glasses, the frames covered With pearls, and her night talpoche set with bodkins of jewels, and near it three vests of fine sables, every one of which is, at least, worth a thousand dollars, (two hundred pounds English money.) I don’t doubt but these rich habits were purposely placed in sight, though they seemed negligently thrown on the sofa.  When I took my leave of her, I was complimented with perfumes, as at the grand vizier’s,