Egypt -- History -- Fiction; German fiction -- Translations into English
"To be sure. He was Susannah's husband and must have been a man of fifty
when he first wooed her. The little girl is their only child and the
richest heiress in the whole province; but she is not altogether grown up
though she is sixteen years old--an old man's child, you understand, but
a pretty, merry creature, a laughing dove in human form, and so quick and
lively. Her own people call her the little water-wagtail."
"Good!--Good and very appropriate," said the merchant well pleased.
"She is small too, a child rather than a maiden; but the graceful,
gladsome creature takes my fancy. And the governor's son--what is his
name?"
"Orion, Sir," replied the guide.
"And by my beard," said the old man smiling. "You have not over-praised
him, man! Such a youth as this Orion is not to be seen every day. What
a tall fellow, and how becoming are those brown curls. Such as he are
spoilt to begin with by their mothers, and then all the other women
follow suit. And he has a frank, shrewd face with something behind it.
If only he had left his purple coat and gold frippery in Constantinople!
Such finery is out of place in this dismal ruinous city."
While he was yet speaking the Memphite urged his ass forward, but the
Arab held him back, for his attention was riveted by what was taking
place within the enclosure. He saw handsome Orion place a small white
dog, a silky creature of great beauty that evidently belonged to him--in
the little maiden's arms saw her kiss it and then put a blade of grass
round its neck as if to measure its size. The old man watched them as,
both laughing gaily, they looked into each other's eyes and presently bid
each other farewell. The girl stood on tiptoe in front of some rare
shrub to reach two exquisite purple flowers that blossomed at the top,
hastily plucked them and offered them to him with a deep blush; she
pushed away the hand he had put out to support her as she stretched up
for the flowers with a saucy slap; and a bright glance of happiness
lighted up her sweet face as the young man kissed the place her fingers
had hit, and then pressed the flowers to his lips. The old man looked on
with sympathetic pleasure, as though it roused the sweetest memories in
his mind; and his kind eyes shone as Orion, no less mischievously happy
than the young girl, whispered something in her ear; she drew the long
stem of grass out of her waist-belt to administer immediate and condign
punishment withal, struck it across his face, and then fled over grass-
plot and flower-bed, as swift as a roe, without heeding his repeated
shouts of "Katharina! bewitching, big damsel, Katharina!" till she
reached the house.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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