not, and from his royal goodness would not, take from any man his
wedded wife; so she believed she should be the occasion of making
him commit a great sin if she did not reveal her state and
condition, and tell him she was another's, and could not be so happy
to be his.

  The king, enraged at this delay, hastily demanded the name of the
bold man that had married a woman of her degree without his consent.
Imoinda, seeing his eyes fierce, and his hands tremble (whether with
age or anger, I know not, but she fancied the last), almost repented
she had said so much, for now she feared the storm would fall on the
prince; she therefore said a thousand things to appease the raging
of his flame, and to prepare him to hear who it was with calmness: but
before she spoke, he imagined who she meant, but would not seem to
do so, but commanded her to lay aside her mantle, and suffer herself
to receive his caresses, or, by his gods he swore, that happy man whom
she was going to name should die, though it were even Oroonoko
himself. "Therefore," said he, "deny this marriage, and swear
thyself a maid." "That," replied Imoinda, "by all our powers I do; for
I am not yet known to my husband." "'Tis enough," said the king, "'tis
enough both to satisfy my conscience and my heart." And rising from
his seat, he went and led her into the bath; it being in vain for
her to resist.

  In this time, the prince, who was returned from hunting, went to
visit his Imoinda, but found her gone; and not only so, but heard
she had received the royal veil. This raised him to a storm; and in
his madness, they had much ado to save him from laying violent hands
on himself. Force first prevailed, and then reason: they urged all
to him that might oppose his rage; but nothing weighed so greatly with
him as the king's old age, uncapable of injuring him with Imoinda.
He would give way to that hope, because it pleased him most, and
flattered best his heart. Yet this served not altogether to make him
cease his different passions, which sometimes raged within him, and
softened into showers. 'Twas not enough to appease him, to tell him
his grandfather was old, and could not that way injure him, while he
retained that awful duty which the young men are used there to pay
to their grave relations. He could not be convinced he had no cause to
sigh and mourn for the loss of a mistress he could not with all his
strength and courage retrieve. And he would often cry, "O, my friends!
were she in walled cities, or confined from me in fortifications of
the greatest strength; did enchantments or monsters detain her from
me; I would venture through any hazard to free her: but here, in the
arms of a feeble old man, my youth, my violent love, my trade in arms,
and all my vast desire of glory, avail me nothing. Imoinda is as
irrecoverably lost to me as if she were snatched by the cold arms of
death. Oh! she is never to be retrieved. If I would wait tedious
years, till fate should bow the old king to his grave, even that would
not leave me Imoinda free; but still that custom that makes it so vile
a crime for a son to marry his father's wives or mistresses would
hinder my happiness; unless I would either ignobly set an ill
precedent to my successors, or abandon my country, and fly with her to
some unknown world who never heard our story."

  But it was objected to him that his case was not the same; for
Imoinda being his lawful wife by solemn contract, 'twas he was the
injured man, and might, if he so pleased take Imoinda back, the breach
of the law being on his grandfather's side; and that if he could
circumvent him, and redeem her from the otan, which is the palace of
the king's women, a sort of seraglio, it was both just and lawful
for him so to do.

  This reasoning had some force upon him, and he should have been
entirely comforted, but for the thought that she was possessed by
his grandfather. However, he loved so well that he was resolved to
believe what most favored his hope, and to endeavor to learn from
Imoinda's own mouth, what only she could satisfy him in, whether she
was robbed of that blessing which was only due to his faith and
love. But as it was very hard to get a sight of the women (for no
men ever entered into the otan but when the king went to entertain
himself with some one of his wives or mistresses; and 'twas death,
at any other time, for any other to go in), so he knew not how to
contrive to get a sight of her.

  While Oroonoko felt all the agonies of love, and suffered under a
torment the most painful in the world, the old king was not exempted
from his share of affliction. He was troubled for having been
forced, by an irresistible passion, to rob his son of a treasure, he
knew, could not but be extremely dear to him; since she was the most
beautiful that ever had been seen, and had besides all the sweetness
and innocence of youth and modesty, with a charm of wit surpassing
all. He found that, however she was forced to expose her lovely person
to his withered arms, she could only sigh and weep there, and think of
Oroonoko; and oftentimes could not forbear speaking of him, though her
life were, by custom, forfeited by owning her passion. But she spoke
not of a lover only, but of a prince dear to him to whom she spoke;
and of the praises of a man who, till now, filled the old man's soul
with joy at every recital of his bravery, or even his name. And
'twas this dotage on our young hero that gave Imoinda a thousand
privileges to speak of him, without offending; and this
condescension in the old king, that made her take the satisfaction
of speaking of him so very often.

  Besides, he many times inquired how the prince bore himself: and
those of whom he asked, being entirely slaves to the merits and
virtues of the prince, still answered what they thought conduced
best to his service; which was, to make the old king fancy that the
prince had no more interest in Imoinda, and had resigned her willingly
to the pleasure of the king; that he diverted himself with his
mathematicians, his fortifications, his officers, and his hunting.