"Gamaheh!" she went on, speaking in a state of somnambulism, "Gamaheh, do you say? Gamaheh, the daughter of King Sekakis? Yes, I recollect, in Famagusta!--I was indeed a beautiful tulip--Yet no, even then I felt desire and love in my breast.--Still, still on that point!"
She was silent, and seemed to be falling into a perfect slumber. Peregrine undertook the perilous enterprise of placing her in a more convenient position, but, as he gently embraced her, a concealed pin prickled him sharply in the finger. According to his custom he snapt his fingers, and Master Flea, taking it for the concerted signal, immediately placed the microscopic glass in his eye.
Now, as usual, Peregrine saw behind the tunicle of the eyes the strange interweaving of nerves and veins, which pierced deep into the brain. But with these were twined bright silver threads, a hundred times thinner than the thinnest spider's web, and it was these very threads that confused him, for they seemed to be endless, branching out into a something, indistinguishable even by the microscopic eye; perhaps they were thoughts of a sublimer kind, the others of a sort more easily comprehended. Then he observed flowers, strangely blended, which took the shape of men, then again men, who dissolved as it were into the earth, and peeped forth again as stones and metals. Amongst these all manner of beasts were in motion, who underwent innumerable changes, and spoke strange languages. No one appearance answered to the other, and in the plaintive sounds of sorrow that filled the air, there was a dissonance, corresponding with that of the images. But it was this very dissonance that ennobled still more the deep fundamental harmony, which broke out triumphantly, and united all that seemed irreconcileable.
"Do not puzzle yourself," whispered Master Flea, "do not puzzle yourself, my good Peregrine; those which you see, are the images of a dream. Even if any thing more should lurk behind them, now is not the time for farther inquiry. Only call the little deceiver by her real name, and then sift her as much as you please."
As the lady had many names, it must have been difficult, one would have thought, for Peregrine to hit upon the right, but, without the least reflection, he exclaimed, "Dörtje Elverdink! dear, charming girl; was it no deceit? Is it possible that you can love me?"
Immediately the little one awoke from her dreamy state, opened her eye, and said with burning glance, "What a doubt, my Peregrine! Could a maiden do as I have done, unless her breast were filled with the most glowing passion? Peregrine, I love you more than any one, and, if you will be mine, I am yours with my whole soul, and remain with you because I cannot leave you, and not merely to escape from the tyranny of my uncle."
The silver threads had disappeared, and the thoughts, properly arranged, ran thus:--"How is this? At first I feigned a passion for him only to regain Master Flea for myself and Leuwenhock; and now I actually am fond of him. I have caught myself in my own snares. I think no more of Master Flea, and would like to be his, who seems lovelier to me than any man I have ever seen."
It may be easily supposed what effect these thoughts produced in Peregrine's breast. He fell on his knees before the fair one, covered her hand with a thousand burning kisses, called her his joy, his heaven, his whole happiness.
"Well!" lisped the maiden, drawing him gently to her side, "well, my love, you certainly will not deny a request, on the fulfilment of which depends the repose, nay, the very existence of your beloved."
"Demand," replied Peregrine, tenderly embracing her, "demand any thing, my life,--any thing you will; your slightest wish is my command. Nothing in the world is so dear to me that I would not with pleasure sacrifice it to you and your affection."