Egypt -- History -- 30 B.C.-640 A.D. -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
All this seemed to Dada perfectly delightful, and she was on the point
of giving her hand to Medius in token of agreement, when her eye caught
the anxious gaze of the young Christian girl who stood before her with
a deep flush on her face. Agne seemed to be blushing for her. The color
rushed to her own cheeks, and shortly saying: “No--after all, I think
not,” she turned her back on the old man and threw herself on the
cushions close to where the wine-jug was standing. Medius now began to
besiege Karnis and Herse with arguments, but they refused all his
offers as they intended quitting Alexandria in a few days, so he had
no alternative but to submit. Still, he did not altogether throw up the
game, and to win Dada’s consent, at any rate, he made her laugh with
a variety of comical pranks and showed her some ingenious conjuring
tricks, and ere long their floating home echoed with merriment, with the
clinking of wine-cups and with songs, in which even Agne was obliged to
take part. Medius did not leave till near midnight and Herse then sent
them all to bed.
As soon as the slave had undressed her young mistress and left the girls
alone, Dada threw herself into the arms of Agne who was on the point
of getting into bed, and kissed her vehemently, exclaiming: “You are
much--so much better than I! How is that you always know what is right?”
Then she lay down; but before she fell asleep she once more spoke to
Agne: “Marcus will find us out, I am certain,” she said, “and I should
really like to know what he has to say to me.”
In a few minutes sleep had sealed her eyes, but the Christian girl lay
awake; her thoughts would not rest, and Sleep, who the night before had
taken her to his heart, to-night would not come near her pillow; so much
to agitate and disturb her soul had taken place during the day.
She had often before now been a silent spectator of the wild rejoicings
of the musician’s family, and she had always thought of these
light-hearted creatures as spendthrifts who waste all their substance
in a few days to linger afterwards through years of privation and
repentance. Troubled, as she could not fail to be, as to the eternal
salvation of these lost souls, though happy in her own faith, she had
constantly turned for peace to her Saviour and always found it; but
to-night it was not so, for a new and unexpected temptation had sprung
up for her in the house of Porphyrius.
She had heard Gorgo sing again, and joined her own voice with hers.
Dirges, yearning hymns, passionate outpourings in praise of the mighty
and beautiful divinity had filled her ear and stirred her soul with an
ecstatic thrill, although she knew that they, were the composition
of heathen poets and had first been sung to the harmony of lutes by
reprobate idolaters. And yet, and yet they had touched her heart, and
moved her soul to rapture, and filled her eyes with tears.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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