"Oh, we are lost--all lost! Tell me, Nefysseh, must I die?"
"No, you shall not die; you shall live, Youssouf, live for me."
"For thee? Oh, tell me, Nefysseh, do you, then, love me?"
She bends over him, clasps him in her arms, and lays her cheek
against his.
"You ask, Youssouf? Do you not know? I have long loved, perhaps I
loved you even while Mourad still lived! But I wished to know
nothing of it, and I knew nothing of it. I refused to listen to the
voices that whispered in my heart. And yet so blissful, so heavenly,
to look at you, Youssouf, and read in your eyes the secret of your
love. Yet my lips were silent, for, as Mourad's wife, I wished to
remain unblamable. You loved me, and I wished to remain free from
blame for your sake, too."
The tears that pour from her eyes fall upon his face--a heavenly dew
that gives him new strength, new happiness.
"Speak on, Sitta Nefysseh, oh, speak on! What I hear is music! Let
me hear this music and be happy! Oh, speak on, Nefysseh!"
"What shall I say, Youssouf? The whole meaning of my words is still,
I love you, and have long loved you! When Mourad, my husband, died,
I vowed over his dead body that I would remain true to him beyond
the grave. Do you know why I wished to raise this barrier between
us? I could not allow the youth to sacrifice his life for me in the
blossom of his age. And, moreover, oh, fool that I was, I fancied
the wide abyss that separated Mourad Bey's widow from his kachef
Youssouf could never be crossed! I was proud, Youssouf, and proud
for you, also! I did not wish to give any one occasion to say:
'Kachef Youssouf marries Mourad's widow for her possessions--for her
wealth.
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