"
"Oh, Achmed! when anyone's star falls from Heaven, does the world ever
ask, wert thou young? wert thou beautiful? didst thou enjoy life?
Mashallah! such a one is dead already. My star shone upon thy face, and
if thou dost turn thy face from me, then must I droop and wither."
"And who told thee that I had turned my face from thee?"
"Oh, Achmed! the Wind does not say, I am cold, and yet we feel it. Thy
heart is far, far away from me even when thou art nigh. But my heart is
with thee even when thou art far away from me, even then I am near to
thee; but thou art far away even when thou art sitting close beside me.
It is not Achmed who is talking to me. It is only Achmed's body.
Achmed's soul is wandering elsewhere; it is wandering on the bloody
field of battle amidst the clash of cold steel. He imagines that those
banners, those weapons, those cannons love him more than his poor
abandoned, forgotten Adsalis."
The salvo of a whole row of cannons was heard in front of the Seraglio.
"Hearken how they call to thee! Their words are more potent than the
words of Adsalis. Go then! follow their invitation! Go the way they
point out to thee! The voice of Adsalis will not venture to compete with
them. What indeed is my voice?--what but a gentle, feeble sound! Go!
there also I will be with thee. And when the long manes of thy
horse-tail standards flutter before thee on the field of battle, fancy
that thou dost see before thee the waving tresses of thy Adsalis who has
freed her soul from the incubus of her body in order that it might be
able to follow thee.
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