They took, indeed, but little notice of the phœnix, as they reckoned his feathers would not fetch nearly so good a price as those of their own ducks and other water-fowl. The princess of Babylon hired two vessels to carry herself and her retinue to that happy island which was soon to possess the only object of her desires, the soul of her life, and the god of her idolatry.
An unpropitious wind from the west suddenly arose, just as the faithful and unhappy Amazan landed on Albion's sea-girt shore, and detained the ships of the Babylonian princess just as they were on the point of sailing. Seized with a deep melancholy, she went to her room, determined to remain there till the wind should change; but it blew for the space of eight days with an unremitting violence. The princess, during this tedious period, employed her maid of honor, Irla, in reading romances; which were not indeed written by the Batavians; but as they are the factors of the universe they traffic in the wit as well as commodities of other nations. The princess purchased of Mark Michael Rey, the book-seller, all the novels which had been written by the Ausonians and the Welsh, the sale of which had been wisely prohibited among those nations to enrich their neighbors, the Batavians. She expected to find in those histories some adventures similar to her own, which might alleviate her grief. The maid of honor read, the phœnix made comments, and the princess,
