Adieu, my dear Sylvia, a long adieu. The boat waits to convey us on board at the Momerbank, as the captain calls it Farewell, Sylvia, comfort poor Henry, when I think of him I feel what it is impossible to describe.

Your unhappy friend,

Emily Barlow

LETTER 2

Ali, Dey of Algiers, to Muzra, Bey of Tunis 20 September 1814.

Muzra, thy friend greets thee, with thanks for thy late present I allude to the Grecian maid (for so she was) you sent me with the treasure. The bearer of this dispatch has (be care of a pair of beautiful stallions which I lately captured from a tribe of Askulites; they made an inroad into a part of my territories from the desert, but I came upon them by surprise, and properly chastised their presumption: not more than a hundred escaped out of two thousand; indeed I was in no humour to spare them, they having disturbed me in a scene of pleasure, for which mere could be no pardon, but more of this hereafter. The Grecian slave, I rejoice to say again, I found a pure maid; her virginity I sacrificed on the Beiram feast of our Holy Prophet To cull her sweet flower, I was obliged to infuse an opiate in her coffee. Again, and again, I thank you for the present-her beauties are indeed luxurious; in her soft embraces I find a sure solace from my anxieties of state, but how strange it is, Muzra, that these slaves, whose destinies depend on our will, rarely give that fervent return to our pleasure so absolutely necessary to the full voluptuous energy of enjoyment It is true nature will always exert its power over the softer sex, and they frequently give way to its excitement, but the pleasure they experience is merely animal. Thus it is with Zena (so I have named your present): even in the height of our ecstasies, a cloud seems to hang on her beauteous countenance, clearly indicating that it is nature, not love, that creates her transport. This knowledge considerably diminishes the enjoyment her beauties afford me, yet still she has become extremely necessary to my pleasures.



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