Has at her sole expense maintained thy state.
SALADIN (embracing her).
My sister—ah!
SITTAH.
And who but you, my brother,
Could make me rich enough to have the power?
HAFI.
And in a little time again will leave thee
Poor as himself.
SALADIN.
I, poor—her brother, poor?
When had I more, when less than at this instant?
A cloak, a horse, a sabre, and a God!—
What need I else? With them what can be wanting?
And yet, Al-Hafi, I could quarrel with thee
For this.
SITTAH.