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for ‘he’—her memory then； went back through all the events of her past life without encountering any obstacle。 Some slight haziness there may have been； as if a few dark drops had fallen into the clear pool of memory； certain things had bee a little dimmed； but that was all。 The change seemed to have been acplished painlessly and pletely and in such a way that Orlando herself showed no surprise at it。 Many people； taking this into account； and holding that such a change of sex is against nature； have been at great pains to prove （1） that Orlando had always been a woman； （2） that Orlando is at this moment a man。 Let biologists and psychologists determine。 It is enough for us to state the simple fact； Orlando was a man till the age of thirty； when he became a woman and has remained so ever since。
But let other pens treat of sex and sexuality； we quit such odious subjects as soon as we can。 Orlando had now washed； and dressed herself in those Turkish coats and trousers which can be worn indifferently by either sex； and was forced to consider her position。 That it was precarious and embarrassing in the extreme must be the first thought of every reader who has followed her story with sympathy。 Young； noble； beautiful； she had woken to find herself in a position than which we can conceive none more delicate for a young lady of rank。 We should not have blamed her had she rung the bell； screamed； or fainted。 But Orlando showed no such signs of perturbation。 All her actions were deliberate in the extreme； and might indeed have been thought to show tokens of premeditation。 First； she carefully examined the papers on the table； took such as seemed to be written in poetry； and secreted them in her bosom； next she called her Seleuchi hound； which had never left her bed all these days； though half famished with hunger； fed and bed him； then stuck a pair of pistols in her belt； finally wound about her person several strings of emeralds and pearls of the finest orient which had formed part of her Ambassadorial wardrobe。 This done； she leant out of the window； gave one low whistle； and descended the shattered and bloodstained staircase； now strewn with the litter of waste–paper baskets； treaties； despatches； seals； sealing wax； etc。； and so entered the courtyard。 There； in the shadow of a giant fig tree； waited an old gipsy on a donkey。 He led another by the bridle。 Orlando swung her leg over it； and thus； attended by a lean dog； riding a donkey； in pany of a gipsy； the Ambassador of Great Britain at the Court of the Sultan left Constantinople。
They rode for several days and nights and met with a variety of adventures； some at the hands of men； some at the hands of nature； in all of which Orlando acquitted herself with courage。 Within a week they reached the high ground outside Broussa； which was then the chief camping ground of the gipsy tribe to which Orlando had allied herself。 Often she had looked at those mountains from her balcony at the Embassy； often had longed to be there； and to find oneself where one has longed to be always； to a reflective mind； gives food for thought。 For some time； however； she was too well pleased with the change to spoil it by thinking。 The pleasure of having no documents to seal or sign； no flourishes to make； no calls to pay； was enough。 The gipsies followed the grass； when it was grazed down； on they moved again。 She washed in streams if she washed at all； no boxes； red； blue； or green； were presented to her； there was not a key； let alone a golden key； in the whole camp； as for ‘visiting’； the word was unknown。 She milked the goats； she collected brushwood； she stole a hen’s egg now and then； but always put a coin or a pearl in place of it； she herded cattle； she stripped vines； she trod the grape； she filled the goat–skin and drank from it； and when she remembered how； at about this time of day； she should have been making the motions of drinking and smoking over an empty coffee–cup and a pipe which lacked tobacco； she laughed aloud； cut herself another hunch of bread； and begged for a puff from old Rustum’s pipe； filled though it was with cow dung。
The gipsies； with whom it is obvious that she must have been in secret munication before the revolution； seem to have looked upon her as one of themselves （which is always the highest pliment a people can pay）； and her dark hair and dark plexion bore out the belief that she was； by birth； one of them and had been snatched by an English Duke from a nut tree when she was a baby and taken to that barbarous land where people live in houses because they are too feeble and diseased to stand the open air。 Thus； though in many ways inferior to them； they were willing to help her to bee more like them； taught her their arts of cheese–making and basket–weaving； their science of stealing and bird–snaring； and were even prepared to consider letting her marry among them。
But Orlando had contracted in England some of the customs or diseases （whatever you choose to consider them） which cannot； it seems； be expelled。 One evening； when they were all sitting round the camp fire and the sunset was blazing over the Thessalian hills； Orlando exclaimed：
‘How good to eat！’
（The gipsies have no word for ‘beautiful’。 This is the nearest。）
All the young men and women burst out laughing uproariously。 The sky good to eat； indeed！ The elders； however； who had seen more of foreigners than they had； became suspicious。 They noticed that Orlando often sat for whole hours doing nothing whatever； except look here and then there； they would e upon her on some hill–top staring straight in front of her； no matter whether the goats were grazing or straying。 They began to suspect that she had other beliefs than their own； and the older men and women thought it probable that she had fallen into the clutches of the vilest and cruellest among all the Gods； which is Nature。 Nor were they far wrong。 The English disease； a love of Nature； was inborn in her； and here； where Nature was so much larger and more powerful than in England； she fell into its hands as she had never done before。 The malady is too well known； and has been； alas； too often described to need descr