roasting an ox he had newly killed. Sometimes he drank out of
the pitcher, and sometimes cut slices off the ox and greedily
devoured them. But what most attracted my father's attention was
a beautiful woman whom he saw in the hut. She seemed overwhelmed
with grief; her hands were bound, and at her feet was a little
child about two or three years old, who, as if he was sensible of
his mother's misfortunes, wept without ceasing, and rent the air
with his cries.

My father, moved with this pitiable object, thought at first to
enter the hut and attack the giant; but considering how unequal
the combat would be, he stopped, and resolved, since he had not
strength enough to prevail by open force, to use art. In the
mean time, the giant having emptied the pitcher, and devoured
above half the ox, turned to the woman and said, "Beautiful
princess, why do you oblige me by your obstinacy to treat you
with severity? It is in your own power to be happy. You need
only resolve to love, and be true to me, and I shall treat you
with more mildness." "Thou hideous satyr," answered the lady,
"never expect that time should wear away my abhorrence of thee.
Thou wilt ever be a monster in my eyes." To these words she
added so many reproaches, that the giant grew enraged. "This is
too much," cried he, in a furious tone; "my love despised is
turned into rage. Your hatred has at last excited mine; I find
it triumphs over my desires, and that I now wish your death more
ardently than your enjoyment." Having spoken these words, he
took the wretched lady by the hair, held her up with one hand in
the air, and drawing his scimitar with the other, was just going
to strike off her head, when the sultan my father let fly an
arrow which pierced the giant's breast, so that he staggered, and