he chamber of audience, were he stood so
transported with admiration, that, as he afterwards said, he had
scarcely power to open his lips. At length, however, he took courage,
and made his speech wonderfully well; wherein he prayed the princess not
to let him be so unfortunate as to return without her. "Gentle Avenant,"
said she, "all the reasons you have laid before me, are very good, and I
assure you, I would rather favour you than any other; but you must know,
about a month since, I went to take the air by the side of a river, with
my maids of honour; as I was pulling off my glove, I pulled a ring from
my finger, which by accident fell into the river. This ring I valued
more than my whole kingdom; whence you may judge how much I am afflicted
by the loss of it. And I have made a vow never to hearken to any
proposals of marriage, unless the ambassador who makes them shall also
bring my ring. This is the present which you have to make me; otherwise
you may talk your heart out, for months and even years shall never
change my resolution." When he returned to his lodgings, he went to bed
supperless; and his little dog, who was called Cabriole, made a fasting
night of it too, and went and lay down by his master; who did nothing
all night but sigh and lament, saying, "How can I find a ring that fell
into a great river a month ago? It would be folly to attempt it. The
princess enjoined me this task, merely because she knew it was
impossible," he continued, greatly afflicted; which Cabriole observing,
said, "My dear master, pray do not despair of your good fortune; for you
are too good to be unhappy. Therefore, when it is day, let us go to the
river side." Avenant made no answer, but gave his dog two little cuffs
with his hand, and being overwhelmed with grief, fell asleep.

But when Cabriole perceived it was broad day, he fell a barking so loud
that he waked his master. "Rise, sir," said he, "put on your clothes,
and let us go and try our fortune." Avenant took his little dog's
advice; got up, and dressed himself, went down into the garden, and out
of the garden he walked insensibly to the river side, with his hat over
his eyes, and his arms across, thinking of nothing but taking his leave;
when all on a sudden he heard a voice call, "Avenant, Avenant!" upon
which he looked around him, but seeing nothing, he concluded it was an
illusion, and was proceeding in his walk; but he presently heard himself
called again. "Who calls me