"
"Oh, bitterness and anguish!" cried Youssouf, in tones of despair.
"She drives me from her like a miserable dog whom she will not
tolerate on the threshold of her door."
"No, Youssouf," replied Sitta Nefysseh, sadly. "No! His mistress
only points out to Youssouf the road he must pursue in order to
become one day a hero, and the first and foremost of all the
Mameluke beys. There is a higher bliss than domestic happiness, and
that is the pursuit of glory. Let glory be your aim. You shall be
called a hero, and the scha-er shall proclaim your deeds to the
listening people. And this, O Youssouf," she added in lower tones,
"this is my consolation in parting with you--you," she quickly
resumed, as if feeling that there had been something in the tone of
her voice that required an explanation, "you whom I esteem as my
husband's devoted friend! And now go, Youssouf, and let this be my
farewell greeting! Think of me when you go out to battle, think that
your glory is my pride!"
"I am going," said he, in a choking voice. "I am going, and to die,
Sitta Nefysseh!"
"To die? No, Youssouf," cried she. "No, not to die."
"I must, for you drive me from you; you send me to confront the
death-dealing bullets. Do not think that it is base fear that drives
me to despair. When going with my master to battle, I have never
known fear. I am going away to die; I shall seek the enemy's bullets
in the hope that they graciously relieve me of my miserable
existence.
Pages:
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538