A few days after that moonlit fishing party, I went early to Yusuf's house.
It was raining, so I could not go to the garden. I entered the dining room, a place in which I had never yet seen anyone.
The moment I stepped inside, a charming female form rose, covering her features with a thick veil which fell to the feet.
Near the window sat a slave, busy with tambour-work, but she did not rise.
I bowed and made my apology.
"I beg pardon. I thought the room empty."
I turned to withdraw, but the veiled lady stopped me.
"Do not go," she said.
Her voice was soft and clear.
"Yusuf commanded me to entertain you until his return."
She pointed to a rich cushion placed upon two larger ones.
"Be seated."
I obeyed.
She crossed her legs and sat opposite me on another cushion.
I thought I was looking upon Zelmi, and fancied that Yusuf had made up his mind to show me that he was not less courageous than Ismail.
Yet I was surprised, for, by such a proceeding, he strongly contradicted his maxims, and ran the risk of impairing the unbiased purity of my consent by throwing love in the balance. But I had no fear of that, because, to become enamored, I should have required to see her face.
The veiled beauty spoke first.
"I suppose that you do not know who I am."
"I could not guess, if I tried."
"I have been for the last five years the wife of your friend, and I am a native of Scio. I was thirteen years of age when I became his wife."
I was astonished.
Yusuf, my Mussulman philosopher, who spoke so gravely of order, modesty, and the danger of the senses, had allowed me to converse alone with his wife. Yet the knowledge that she was not Zelmi made me more at ease.
I looked at her.
The dress was rich, the posture graceful, the voice agreeable. But the veil denied me the true person.
I felt a desire to carry the adventure further, but the first condition was to see her face, for a finely-dressed body, the head of which is not seen, excites but feeble desires.
The fire lighted by amorous desires is like a fire of straw; the moment it burns up it is near its end. I had before me a magnificent appearance, but I could not see the soul of the image, for a thick gauze concealed it from my hungry gaze.
I could see arms as white as alabaster, and hands like those of Alcina, and my active imagination fancied that all the rest was in harmony with those beautiful specimens
The graceful folds of the muslin, leaving the outline all its perfection, hid from me only the living satin of the surface; there was no doubt that everything was lovely, but I wanted to see, in the expression of her eyes, that all that my imagination created had life and was endowed with feeling.
The Oriental costume is a beautiful varnish placed upon a porcelain vase to protect from the touch the colours of the flowers and of the design, without lessening the pleasure of the eyes.
Yusuf's wife was not dressed like a sultana; she wore the costume of Scio, with a short skirt which concealed neither the perfection of the leg nor the round form of the thigh, nor the voluptuous plump fall of the hips, nor the slender, well-made waist encompassed in a splendid band embroidered in silver and covered with arabesques.
Above all those beauties, I could see the shape of two globes which Apelles would have taken for the model of those of his lovely Venus, and the rapid, inequal movement of which proved to me that those ravishing hillocks were animated.
The small valley left between them, and which my eyes greedily feasted upon, seemed to me a lake of nectar, in which my burning lips longed to quench their thirst with more ardour than they would have drunk from the cup of the gods.
Enraptured, and no longer quite master of myself, I stretched out my hand boldly.
It was done almost before I knew I had moved. My fingers were already near the hateful veil, when she rose swiftly on tiptoe.
Her whole figure changed. Her eyes gazed at me with indignation.
"Dost thou deserve," she said in a commanding voice, "Yusuf's friendship, when thou abusest the sacred laws of hospitality by insulting his wife?"
The words struck me cold.
"Madam, you must kindly forgive me, for I never had any intention to insult you. In my country the lowest of men may fix his eyes upon the face of a queen."
"Yes," she answered, "but he cannot tear off her veil, if she chooses to wear it. Yusuf shall avenge me."
The threat, and the tone in which it was pronounced, frightened me.
I threw myself at her feet, and at last succeeded in calming her anger.
"Take a seat," she said.
And she sat down herself, crossing her legs with so much freedom that I caught a glimpse of charms which would have caused me to lose all control over myself if the delightful sight had remained one moment longer exposed to my eyes.
I then saw that I had gone the wrong way to work, and I felt vexed with myself; but it was too late.
She looked at me through the veil.
"Art thou excited?" she said.
"How could I be otherwise," I answered, "when thou art scorching me with an ardent fire?"
This time I was more prudent. I seized her hand without thinking any more of her face.
She let me keep it.
"Here is my husband," she said, and Yusuf came into the room.
We rose.
Yusuf embraced me with his usual affection. I paid him the compliments due to his house, while the slave gathered her work and left the room.
"My dear," Yusuf said to his wife, "I thank you for having entertained our guest."
He offered her his arm to lead her back to her apartment.
She took it.
At the door, she lifted her veil to kiss her husband.
The movement seemed accidental. It was not. In that brief instant she allowed me to see her lovely face.
The veil fell again, and she passed through the door.
I followed her with my eyes as long as I could.
Yusuf returned to me laughing.
"My wife has offered to dine with us."
"I thought," I said, still affected by the apparition, "that I had Zelmi before me."
"That would have been too much against our established rules. What I have done is not much, but I do not know an honest man who would be bold enough to bring his daughter into the presence of a stranger."
"I think your wife must be handsome; is she more beautiful than Zelmi?"
He reflected a moment.
"My daughter's beauty is cheerful, sweet, and gentle; that of Sophia is proud and haughty."
"She will be happy after my death," he added.
The phrase surprised me.
"After your death?"
"Yes. The man who will marry her will find her a virgin."
I gave an account of my adventure to M. de Bonneval, somewhat exaggerating the danger I had run in trying to raise the veil of the handsome daughter of Scio.
He heard me out and began to laugh.
"She was laughing at you," said the count, "and you ran no danger."
"You think not?"
He answered, "I am certain of it. She must have felt very sorry, believe me, to have to deal with a novice like you. You have been playing the comedy in the French fashion, when you ought to have gone straight to the point. What on earth did you want to see her nose for? She knew very well that she would have gained nothing by allowing you to see her. You ought to have secured the essential point."
He shook his head and continued, "If I were young I would perhaps manage to give her a revenge, and to punish my friend Yusuf. You have given that lovely woman a poor opinion of Italian valour. The most reserved of Turkish women has no modesty except on her face, and, with her veil over it, she knows to a certainty that she will not blush at anything. I am certain that your beauty keeps her face covered whenever our friend Yusuf wishes to joke with her."
"She is yet a virgin," I said.
He looked at me with amused incredulity.
"Rather a difficult thing to admit, my good friend; but I know the daughters of Scio; they have a talent for counterfeiting virginity."
Yusuf never paid me a similar compliment again, and he was quite right.
A few days later, I was in the shop of an Armenian merchant, examining some beautiful goods.
There were filigrees of gold and silver from Damascus, portfolios, scarves, belts, handkerchiefs, and pipes of excellent workmanship. I admired many things and bought nothing.
While I was still looking, Yusuf entered.
He smiled when he saw the objects before me.
"You have good taste," he said.
"You are very kind, my dear Yusuf, but I think they are too dear."
"You think them dear?"
"Very dear."
He examined the goods then smiled.
"On the contrary," he said, "they are cheap."
Then, without another word, he bought them all.
We left the shop together, and at the door we parted.
The next morning, all the beautiful things arrived at my lodging.
With them came a note from Yusuf. He wrote that, when I reached Corfu, he would tell me to whom the goods were to be delivered.
It was a delicate attention of my friend aimed to prevent my refusal of such a splendid present.
The whole was worth four or five hundred piasters.
When I called to thank him, I compelled him to confess that it was a present offered by his friendship.
The day before my departure from Constantinople, I went to take leave of Yusuf.
The excellent man embraced me and burst into tears. Mine answered his. I had known him only a few months, yet I felt as if I were leaving a father whom fortune had lent me for a season.
"You have refused the offer of my daughter's hand," he said, "and by that refusal you have captivated my esteem so completely that my feelings for you could not have been any warmer if you had become my son."
His words moved me deeply.
When I went on board with the Bailo Jean Dona, I found a new case from him waiting for me. It contained two quintals of the best Mocha coffee, one hundred pounds of tobacco leaves, two large flagons, one filled with Zabandi tobacco, the other with camussa, and a magnificent pipe tube of jessamine wood covered with gold filigree.
I had not it in my power to give my generous Turk any mark of my gratitude until I reached Corfu, but there I did not fail to do so.
I sold all his beautiful presents, which made me the possessor of a small fortune.
Ismail also gave me a letter for the Chevalier de Lezze, but I had unfortunately lost it and could not forward it to him. He added a barrel of hydromel, which followed the same destiny as Yusuf's presents and was turned to money.
de Bonneval gave me a letter for Cardinal Acquaviva. I sent it to Rome with an account of my journey. His eminence did not think fit to acknowledge the receipt of either.
Bonneval made me a present of twelve bottles of malmsey from Ragusa and twelve bottles of genuine scopolo, a great rarity. The latter served me well at Corfu, where I made a present of it which proved useful to me, as the reader will soon discover.
The only foreign minister I saw often in Constantinople was the Lord Marshal of Scotland, the celebrated Keith, then representing the King of Prussia. Six years later, in Paris, he rendered me a service of real importance.
We sailed from Constantinople at the beginning of September, in the same man-of-war which had brought us there.
The passage to Corfu took fourteen days.
The Bailo Dona did not go ashore. He had with him eight magnificent Turkish horses, animals of such beauty that even those who knew nothing of horses were forced to admire them. Two of them I saw still alive at Gorizia in 1773.