صفحة 233 من 1116

When she heard my words she sprang to her feet crying.-Fie upon

thee, thou cur! all this is of thy doings; thou hast wounded my

heart s darling and thereby worked me sore woe and thou hast

wasted his youth so that these three years he hath lain abed more

dead than alive! In my wrath I cried:-O thou foulest of harlots

and filthiest of whores ever futtered by negro slaves who are

hired to have at thee![FN#129] Yes indeed it was I who did this

good deed; and snatching up my sword I drew it and made at her to

cut her down. But she laughed my words and mine intent to scorn

crying: To heel, hound that thou art! Alas[FN#130] for the past

which shall no more come to pass nor shall any one avail the dead

to raise. Allah hath indeed now given into my hand him who did to

me this thing, a deed that hath burned my heart with a fire which

died not and a flame which might not be quenched!