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Updated: May 4, 2025
"Don't, Zuleika! Miss Dobson, don't! Pull yourself together! Reflect! I implore you... You will repent..." Slowly she closed the postern on him. "You will repent. I shall wait here, under your window..." He heard a bolt rasped into its socket. He heard the retreat of a light tread on the paven hall. And he hadn't even kissed her! That was his first thought. He ground his heel in the gravel.
"No, indeed, dear papa," answered she, nestling closer to him. "Will you always love me as you do now, Zuleika?" asked the father, looking down into the liquid depths of her eyes. "Oh! papa, what a question, what a singular question!" said the girl, springing to her feet, throwing her arms around his neck, and kissing him again and again.
I chanced once, a long while afterwards, to be in a country town where her troupe was giving exhibitions; I even read the gaudily illumined show-bill, setting forth the accomplishments of Zuleika, the famed Arabian Trick Pony but I failed to recognize my dear little Mustang girl behind those high-sounding titles, and so, alas, did not attend the performance!
I know the extent of your love for Giovanni Massetti; I also feel confident that I am not deceived in him, and that he will be amply able to prove himself entirely worthy of your hand. I have seen too much of men, Zuleika, and studied them too deeply, to be deceived in reading character." "Oh! thank you, thank you ever so much, papa, both for your promise, and your kind, encouraging words.
Morrel's touch and influence to do their work. Suddenly Zuleika removed her hands from her tear-bathed visage, straightened herself up in the fauteuil and, fixing her glance on Monte-Cristo, said, in a low, faint and gasping tone that betrayed the depth, the intensity, of her emotion: "Father, you spoke of finding Giovanni! Has he disappeared?" The Count compressed his lips, hesitating to reply.
Amazed by this strange speech, which the Count uttered in a voice tremulous with emotion, as much as by any of the inexplicable wonders she had seen, Zuleika replied, in a tone full of agitation: "I promise, solemnly promise, father, to fulfil your injunctions in this matter to the very letter!
"'Listen, my brother, for fate points that to thee should I give my fullest confidence. Zuleika is a maid of the Turkmans, betrothed to me. But a year ago, when gathering flowers in our valley, she was stolen by roving freebooters. And, true to my love, I have followed her here, to the home of the zemindar, your master, who purchased her from the marauders.
Joseph: "Lovely and pleasant are my words when I proclaim the praise of my God." Zuleika: "How beautiful is thy hair! Take my golden comb, and comb it." Joseph: "How long wilt thou continue to speak thus to me? Leave off! It were better for thee to care for thy household." Zuleika: "There is nothing in my house that I care for, save thee alone." But Joseph's virtue was unshaken.
His own life was his to lose: others he must not squander. Besides, he had reckoned to die alone, unique; aloft and apart... "There is something something I had forgotten," he said to Zuleika, "something that will be a great shock to you"; and he gave her an outline of what had passed at the Junta. "And you are sure they really MEANT it?" she asked in a voice that trembled. "I fear so.
You bewilder me," said the Duke. "Explain yourself!" he commanded. "Isn't that rather much for a man to ask of a woman?" "I don't know. I have no experience of women. In the abstract, it seems to me that every man has a right to some explanation from the woman who has ruined his life." "You are frightfully sorry for yourself," said Zuleika, with a bitter laugh.
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