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"He is welcome. Conduct him to me. Come nearer, ye slaves, and seat yourselves behind that clump of rose-bushes. You can sing and play while I am receiving my visitor, for Osman Bey loves music. Do me honor, my slaves, and sing the love-songs of Djumeil and his Lubna."
And, though this earth were heaven, and it contained my Lubna not, I'd wander rather through the gates of hell if I but knew my Lubna there!" "If I but knew my Lubna there!" repeated Osman Bey, in low, tremulous tones. "You wish to know when I first heard this song? I will tell you. It was on the evening of a bloody day of battle; I had ridden at the side of our great chieftain, Mourad Bey.
"I remained standing in the tent and listened to your song, Sitta Nefysseh. You sang to your husband of love and happiness sang in sweet words what Djumeil says to his Lubna: `Nature breathes love. The bird in the air sings of love; the spring which bubbles at your feet murmurs of love; the rose that blossoms in the garden sheds love's fragrance all is love and bliss.
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