Egypt -- History -- Mohammed Ali, 1805-1849 -- Fiction; Muhammad Ali Basha, Governor of Egypt, 1769-1849 -- Fiction
"You do not know her, but she perhaps knows you," said the merchant,
smiling. "She is very beautiful, it is said. She is married, as you
are aware, to my rival, the merchant across the street, I have
observed that this fair lady opens her shutters, to peep out at
Mohammed, whenever he passes by. The neighbors say this is why her
husband has become jealous, and threatens to drive her away, if she
continues to look after the young men. You now perceive, Mohammed,
that Marina, the tschorbadji's niece, has an eye on you, and perhaps
even two, and that her husband knows it. The peace of the house has
thus been broken on your account, and the people say the tschorbadji
will now take his niece home again, and that you are to marry her
afterward. It is a good match, Mohammed, a very good match. I shall
be disappointed if you do not marry this lady. She is rich, very
rich; and are you aware that, with your epaulets, your uniform, and
your handsome sword, you must have money. Moreover, my son, he who
intends to rise in the world must have a great deal of money! It is
not through his own merit that a man is advanced. If he is poor, he
remains in the dust. You know I have offered to assist you, but you
refused me because you did not wish to accept benefits, and you were
right. My advice you can, however, accept; and my advice is, marry
the beautiful, the rich Marina, when her husband divorces her, and
sufficient time has elapsed. She is very young, younger than you; my
young friend Mohammed numbers eighteen years, and the tschorbadji's
young niece only fifteen. Take my advice, and preserve your heart
until it is time to let its wings grow, and then stretch out your
hand after the fair Marina."
"Thanks for your advice," cried Mohammed, laughing.
Never before had the merchant heard him laugh so heartily; never
before had he seen him make such a display of his white teeth. Until
to-day, Mohammed had been a remarkably grave youth. What can it be
that makes him look so joyous and laugh so heartily all of a sudden?
"Let us, however, hear no more about this fair Marina. I do not know
her, and have never seen her. That is to say, I may have seen her
once or twice, with Osman, when we happened to pass the veiled woman
and her husband on the street, and I believe she did stand still and
look after us. I thought, at the time, it was on Osman's account,
and probably it was. How could the rich lady have turned to look at
the poor lad Mohammed Ali? And now to other matters. Show me goods,
show me carpets, and I want the best and the handsomest. The carpet
is to lie where my mother's mat once lay, and on which she died; and
this spot cannot be too handsomely adorned. Therefore, give me a
costly carpet."
"Let it be just as you say," said the merchant, smiling. He then
called his servants, and ordered them to bring down his handsomest
carpets, and spread them out before the young captain, in order that
he might select one.
"You want nothing else, only a carpet?"
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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