My dear, Griffith has gone out; she has gone to the Rue
Hillerin-Bertin; she had handed in this little love-letter for my
slave, who returned to me in an envelope my sweet portrait, stained
with tears. He has obeyed. Oh! my sweet, it must have been dear to
him! Another man would have refused to send it in a letter full of
flattery; but the Saracen has fulfilled his promises. He has obeyed.
It moves me to tears.