Let us suppose, then, Madam, continued he, that I had a mind to marry, as the sultan my father so earnestly desires I should; what wife, think you, would he be likely to provide for me?  Probably a princess, whom he would demand of some neighbouring prince, and who would think it an honour done him to send her to him.  Fair or ugly, good or ill-humoured, she must be accepted; nay, suppose no other princess excelled her in beauty, yet who can be certain that her temper would be of equal goodness; that she would be affable, complaisant, entertaining, obliging, and the like; that her discourse would generally run on solid matters, and not on trifles, such as dress, adjustments, ornaments, and the like fooleries, which would disgust any man of sense?  In a word, that she would not be haughty, proud, arrogant, impertinent, scornful, and waste a man’s estate in frivolous expences, such as gaudy clothes, unnecessary jewels, toys, and the like long train of magnificent follies.

Thus you see, madam, continued he, how many reasons a man may have to be disgusted at marriage.  Well, but to go further:  let this princess be ever so perfect, accomplished, and irreproachable, I have yet a great many more reasons not to desist from my sentiment, or depart from my resolution.

What, son, replied Fatima; have you then more reasons than those you have already advanced?  I do not doubt but that I shall find wherewithal to answer them, and stop your mouth with a word.  Very well, madam, replied the prince; and perhaps I may find wherewithal to reply to your answer.

I mean, son, said Fatima, that it is easy for a prince, who has had the misfortune to marry such a wife as you describe, to get rid of her, and take such care that she may not prejudice his estate.  Ah, but, madam, replied the prince, you do not consider what a mortification it would be to a person of so great quality to be obliged to come to an extremity of that nature.  Would it not have been better, think you, and much more for his honour and quiet, that he had never run such a risk?

But, son, said Fatima once more, after the manner you understand things, I apprehend you have a mind to be the last king of your race, who have nevertheless reigned so long and gloriously in the isles of the Children of Khaledan.

Madam, replied the prince, for my part I do not desire to survive the king my father; and if I should die before him, it would be no great matter of wonder, since so many children have died before their parents.  But as for my leaving no successor, I am of opinion it is much better to be the last of one’s race, than father to a bad prince, or husband to a bad wife.

From that time Fatima had frequent conferences with her son the prince on the same subject, and omitted no opportunity or argument to endeavour rooting out his aversion to the fair sex; but he eluded all her reasonings by such as she could not well answer, and continued in the same mind.