Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and PalaceHauff, Wilhelm
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Tales of the Caravan, Inn, and Palace
Hauff, Wilhelm
Short stories, German -- Translations into English
But the Franks did not keep faith with him; for the ship sailed on for
many days, and when it finally reached land, it was not the Egyptian,
but the Frankish coast. During the long voyage, and in their camp too,
Almansor had learned to understand and to speak the language of the
Franks; and this was of great service to him now, in a country where
nobody knew his own language. He was taken a long journey through the
country, and everywhere the people turned out in crowds to see him; for
his conductors announced that he was the son of the King of Egypt, who
was sending him to their country to be educated. The soldiers told this
story to make the people believe that they had conquered Egypt, and had
concluded a peace with that country. After his journey had continued
several days, they came to a large city, the end of their journey.
There he was handed over to a physician, who took him into his home and
instructed him in all the customs and manners of the Franks.
First of all, he was required to put on Frankish clothes, which he
found very tight, and not nearly as beautiful as his Egyptian costume.
Then he had to abstain from making an obeisance with crossed arms, but
when he wished to greet any one politely, he must, with one hand,
lift from his head the monstrous black felt hat that had been given
him to wear, let the other hand hang at his side, and give a scrape
with his right foot. He could no longer sit down on his crossed
legs, as is the proper custom in the Levant, but he had to seat
himself on a high-legged chair, and let his feet hang down to the
floor. Eating also caused him not a little difficulty; for every thing
that he wished to put in his mouth he had to first stick on a metal
fork.
The doctor was a very harsh, wicked man, given to teasing the boy; for
when the lad would forget himself and say to an acquaintance, "_Salem
aleicum!_" the doctor would beat him with his cane telling him he
should have said, "_Votre serviteur!_" Nor was he allowed to think, or
speak, or write in his native tongue; at the very most, he could only
dream in it; and he would doubtless have entirely forgotten his own
language, had it not been for a man living in that city, who was of the
greatest service to him.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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