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Updated: May 11, 2025
Czipra suddenly mixed the cards together: "Let us try once more. Cut three times in succession. That is right." She placed the cards out again in packs. Lorand noticed that as the cards came side by side, Czipra's face suddenly flushed; her eyes began to blaze with unwonted fire. "See, the queen of melancholy is just beside you, on the far side the murderer.
But sleep did not return again: the trembling did not pass: and the singing bird in the bushes did not hold his peace. It had come right under the window; it sang, "Come, come." Sometimes it seemed as if the song of the nightingale contained the words "Czipra, Czipra, Czipra!" The warm mist of passion swept away the maiden's reason.
They have long loved each other, and deserve each other's love: give them the blessing of faith, father. Do you agree, Czipra?" The poor girl covered her burning face with her two hands, and, when Lorand stepped towards her and took her hand, began to sob violently. "Don't you love me? Will you not be my wife?" Czipra turned her head on one side. "Ah, you are merely jesting with me.
"Cursed bird," they muttered, "it too has turned to whistling." Czipra was sleeping peacefully. That invisible hand, which she had sought, had closed her eyes and sent sweet dreams to her heart. Perhaps, had she been able to sleep that sleep through undisturbed, she would have awakened to a happy day. The nightingale was warbling under her window. The nightingale! The song-bird of love!
The girls laughed loudly at the gypsy woman's enchantment. The woman held her hand out before Czipra in cringing supplication. "Dear, beautiful young lady, scorn not to reward me with something for the blessing of God." Czipra's pocket was always full of all kinds of small coins, of all values, according to the custom of those days when one man had to be paid in coppers, another in silver.
But Czipra was not glad to see her. She was annoyed at the idea that the woman might recognize her by her red-brown complexion, and her burning black eyes, and might betray her origin before the servants. She tried to escape notice. But the gypsy woman did remark the beautiful girl and addressed her as "my lady." "I kiss your dear little feet, my lady." "My lady?
If from this moment you ever see me sad, ask me 'What is the matter? and I shall confess to you. But that pale face shall never be among those for which I mourn." Czipra was rejoiced at these words. "Let us show cheerful faces before my uncle and brother. Let us be good-humored. No one shall see the sting within us."
"... God intercede between our hearts. "Your loving son, "LORAND." As the minister read, Czipra at each sentence pressed Lorand's hand closer to her heart. She could neither speak nor weep: it was more than her spirit could bear.
I desired to see before me a person as happy as it was my ideal to be; a person free from those distressing tortures, which the civilized world has discovered for the persecution of man by man. Well, I have begun by telling you why I did not teach Czipra her alphabet." "And God?" Topándy took his eyes off the telescope, with which he had just been gazing at the starry sky.
Well, then I can take this letter myself into the town." "Will Mr. Áronffy remain here?" "No. He will take his dead love home to the country. I have asked the doctor to embalm her, and I have a lead casket which I prepared for myself with the intention of continuing my opposition to the ordinance of God within it: now I have no need of it. I will lend it to Czipra. That is her dowry."
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