Selim raised his eyes and thought awhile. The moon lighted clearly his
handsome profile. After a time he began to speak in a quivering,
sympathetic, and lowered voice:--
"Beyond forests, beyond mountains, lived in the Crimea a certain kind
woman named Lala, who could soothsay. Once the Sultan was passing her
cottage. This Sultan, who was called Harun, was very rich; he had a
palace of coral with columns of diamonds; the roof of that palace was of
pearls. The palace was so large that it took a year to go from one end
of it to the other. The Sultan himself wore genuine stars in his turban.
The turban was of sun-rays, and on top of it was a crescent, which a
certain enchanter had cut from the moon and bestowed on the Sultan. That
Sultan was passing near Lala's cottage, and weeping; he was weeping so,
and weeping, that his tears fell on the road, and wherever a tear fell a
white lily sprang up right away.
"'Why art thou weeping, O Sultan Harun?' asked Lala.
"'Why should I not weep,' replied Sultan Harun, 'when I have only one
daughter, beautiful as the morning dawn, and I must give her to a black
Div with fiery eyes, who every ye--'"
Selim stopped suddenly and was silent.
"Is Hania asleep?" whispered he to me.
"No; she is not asleep," answered the girl, with drowsy voice.
"'How should I not weep,' said Harun the Sultan to her [continued
Selim], when I have only one daughter, and I must give her to the Div?'
"'Do not weep, O Sultan,' says Lala; 'sit on the winged horse and ride
to the grotto of Borah. Evil clouds will chase thee on the road, but
throw thou these poppy seeds at them and directly the clouds will fall
asleep.'"
And so Selim went on, and then he stopped a second time and looked at
Hania. The child was now asleep really. She was very tired and pained,
and was sleeping soundly. Selim and I scarcely dared to breathe lest we
might waken her. Her breathing was even, peaceful, interrupted only at
times by deep sighs. Selim rested his forehead on his hand and fell into
serious thought. I raised my eyes toward the sky, and it seemed to me
that I was flying away on the wings of angels into heavenly space. I
cannot tell the sweetness which penetrated me, for I felt that that dear
little being was sleeping calmly and with all confidence on my breast.
Some kind of quiver passed through my whole body,--something not of
earth; new and unknown voices of happiness were born in my soul, and
began to sing and to play like an orchestra. Oh, how I loved Hania! How
I loved her, as a brother and a guardian yet, but beyond bound and
measure.
I approached my lips to Hania's hair and kissed it. There was nothing
earthly in that, for I and the kiss were yet equally innocent.
Selim shivered all at once and woke up from his pensiveness.
"How happy thou art, Henryk!" whispered he.
"Yes, Selim."
But we could not stay there in that way.
"Let us not wake her, but carry her to her room," said Selim.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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