Egypt -- History -- Mohammed Ali, 1805-1849 -- Fiction; Muhammad Ali Basha, Governor of Egypt, 1769-1849 -- Fiction
Overwhelmed with his agony, he sank to the ground, and kissed again
and again the place where she had stood, and wept aloud.
"Mohammed!" suddenly exclaimed a voice behind him. "Mohammed Ali!
The man who weeps has no manly courage, and it would be vain to call
on him for assistance!"
Is another evil spirit beside him? What woman is this who suddenly
appears at his side, closely shrouded in a black veil? Is it another
ghin come up from the deep?
"You are right," murmured he, "no one need longer hope for
assistance from me; I will give vengeance and destruction to those
who call on me for help!"
He springs to his feet and stares fiercely at the woman. "Away from
me! Allah is Allah, the only one in heaven, and Mohammed is his
prophet. Away from me, evil spirit!"
He exorcises this creature with the oath with which evil spirits are
driven out. But it seems this spirit is not to be exorcised. The
veiled woman remains quietly standing, regarding him sorrowfully.
"Mohammed, there are many who suffer, and yet do not break out into
loud lamentations. Many a woman wails in the silence of her chamber;
the lamentation of many a young girl resounds, unheard and unheeded,
through the harem. I know a girl, Mohammed Ali, who weeps and
laments, because she well knows that one whom she looked upon and
greeted in the holy stillness of the morning as though he were her
lord, entering the harem for the first time--that this one
wrongfully accuses her, calls her faithless; yes, perhaps at this
very moment, appeals to Allah for vengeance for a crime which she
has not committed; for a wrong that does not burden her soul!"
"You know such a girl?" he cries, with loud, mocking laughter. "You
are fortunate in knowing her. I do not know such a girl; I only know
that they are all deceitful and traitorous."
"Then you assuredly do not know this one! She is as pure as an
angel, and her name is Masa."
"Masa!" he exclaims, in loud and joyous tones. Then his countenance
darkens, and, raising his clinched fists threateningly, he cries:
"Masa! you deceive yourself. Of all deceitful women she is the
worst. Do not say that I deceive myself with regard to her; I saw,
with my own eyes, that which gives me death; that which will forever
gnaw at my heart. Away from me, and announce to her who sent you
that no woman shall ever deceive Mohammed again."
He turns to descend from the rock, but the woman holds him fast,
regarding him with an anxious, entreating look.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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