ought to believe me. Take my life, my lord, and
I will bless you; for I have lost you, and with you I have lost more
than life."

"Not so, Zara," replied the sultan; "I love you more than ever."

"I am glad to hear you say so, my lord, although it is now of no avail.
I am no longer yours, and never will be. I am unfit to be yours; my
person has been contaminated by the touch of Ethiopian slaves--it has
been polluted by the hand of the executioner--it has been degraded by a
chastisement due only to felons. Oblige me, as a last proof of your
kindness, by taking a life which is a burden to me."

Despot as he was, the sultan was much moved; he was mortified at having
yielded to his temper, and his passionate affection for me had returned.
He entreated my pardon, and shed tears over me, kissed my swelled feet,
and humiliated himself so much, that my heart relented--for I loved him
dearly still.

"Zara," exclaimed he, at last, "will you not forgive me?"

"When, my lord, have I ever shown myself jealous? True love is above
jealousy. This evening, to please you, although I have lately been
neglected, did I not request your new favourite to meet you? In return,
I was grossly insulted by neglect, and studied attentions to her. I was
piqued, and revenged myself--for I am but a woman. I was wrong in so
doing, but having told the truth, I was right in not retracting what I
had said. Now that you have degraded me--now that you have rendered me
unworthy of you, you ask me to forgive you."

"And again I implore it, my dearest Zara!"

"There are my jewels, my lord. I have no other property but what I have
received, and cherished as presents from you. Your treasurer well knows
that. Take my jewels, my lord, and present them to her, they will make
her more beautiful in your sight--to me they are now worthless. Go to
her, and in a few days you will forget that ever there was such a person
as the unhappy, the neglected, the disgraced, and polluted Zara." And I
burst into tears; for even with all his ill-usage, I was miserable at
the idea of parting with him; for what will not a woman forgive a man
who has obtained her favour and her love?

"What can I do to prove that I repent?" cried the sultan. "Tell me,
Zara. I have supplicated for pardon, what more can I do?"

"Let my lord efface all traces and memory of my degradation. Was not I
struck by two vile slaves, who will babble through the city? Was not I
held down by an executione