Narrative of the residence of Fatalla Sayeghir among the wandering Arabs of the great desertLamartine, Alphonse de
History
Narrative of the residence of Fatalla Sayeghir among the wandering Arabs of the great desert
Lamartine, Alphonse de
Arabian Peninsula -- Description and travel
I swore to him a thousand times that I would be silent: I offered to
give him a bill for whatever sum he should fix;--nothing could move him
from his fearful project. At length, tired by my resistance, he placed
his arms against the wall and darted upon me like an enraged lion, to
undress me before killing me. I entreated him again--“What harm have I
done you?” said I,--“what enmity is there between us? You do not know,
then, that the day of judgment is at hand--that God will demand the
blood of the innocent?”--But his hardened heart listened to nothing.
I thought of my brother, my parents, my friends; all that was dear
to me came to my mind;--desperate, I no longer prayed for protection
but from my Creator. “O God! protector of the innocent! help me! give
me strength to resist!” My assassin, impatient, snatched my clothes:
although he was much bigger than I, God gave me strength to struggle
with him for more than half an hour: the blood flowed abundantly from
my face--my clothes were torn to rags. The villain, seeing me in this
state, endeavoured to strangle me, and raised his arm to grasp my neck.
I took advantage of the liberty this movement allowed me, to give him
with both fists a violent blow in the stomach: I knocked him backwards,
and seizing his arms, I darted out of the grotto, running with all my
might. I could scarcely believe the happiness of being saved. Some
moments afterwards I heard a running after me: it was the assassin. He
called to me, begging me to wait in the most conciliating tone. Having
all his arms, I no longer feared to stop, and turning towards him,
“Wretch,” said I, “what is it you ask?--you would have assassinated
me in secret; but it is you who will be strangled in public.” He
answered me by affirming with an oath, that it had all been a jest on
his part; that he had wanted to try my courage, and see how I would
defend myself. “But I see,” added he, “that you are but a child, since
you take it so.”--I answered, raising the gun, that if he came a step
nearer I would shoot him. Seeing that I was determined to do it, he
fled across the desert, and I returned to the village.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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