"She told you that?"
"Yes; and pretends that you swore to it. For my part, I do not want to be loved like a slave. I have learnt from your books that women in your country die when they are no longer loved. So if you have ceased to love me, I wish to die! You have told me that I have a heart, a soul, and an intellect, as they have, and that a woman's love makes her the equal of her master. Do you mean to tell me, ungrateful man, that I do not love you? Have I ever been jealous of Zouhra, or of Nazli? Why should this Hadidjé be everything in your eyes? If you do not want me any more," she added, in a transport of grief, "say so, then; crop my hair, shave off my eyebrows, and place me among the servants!"
As she said these words, she threw herself down at my feet, which she hugged in a delirium of passion. Her tears coursed down her cheeks, and upon my hands, which she covered with kisses. In her intense emotion her voice betokened such bitter distress, that in spite of my determination to punish her, I felt softened towards her. In presence of these transports of a passion, which admitted no other motive but that of her jealous rage, I saw that it was in vain for me to attempt to awaken her conscience to the sense of her guilty conduct. She could neither hear nor feel anything but the echo of her own grief. I loved her no longer, and I loved Hadidjé! These words returned to her lips over and over again, amid sobs so heart-rending that, overcome by pity, and forgetting my resolution, I could not help uttering a word of protestation. I had hardly spoken, when she exclaimed—
"Is that true? Do you really love me? Will you swear it?"
I then understood the imprudence I had committed, but it was too late. Kondjé-Gul, passing at once from affliction to joy, had clasped me in her arms. I wanted to remain stern; but how could I contend by any arguments with such outbursts of mad jealousy? She would not listen to me: she implored me with all the frenzied entreaties and reproaches of which an unreasoning nature is capable. At one moment I believed that I had at last brought her mind to realise the actual situation between us, and the justice of my complaints against her conduct.
"Well, yes!" she said, "I have been very foolish. I ought to have thrown myself at your feet three days ago! Ah, if you only knew how wretched your coldness made me! Listen: when you came in just now, thinking that I had lost your love for ever, I was considering how I could kill myself. But you have forgiven me, have you not?—No, no! don't speak to me about them!" she continued, sharply, seeing that I was about to answer. "You know very well that I am no longer like them; you have formed my heart for a different love to that of the harem. I no longer love you just as they do. No! As for you, you shall love me just as you please—as your servant, if such is your will. Imprison me, if you like, as a punishment; all I want is to see you, and to love you. Yes, I was wrong in striking that Hadidjé. You know very well that I am still a savage, for you have often told me so. Well, then, teach me your own ideas, your religion. Tell me what you wish me to be?" she added finally, in tones so soft and tender that I was quite overcome by her.
I was astounded by this language, by this impassioned eloquence which I had never suspected in her, and which I now heard from her lips for the first time. The butterfly of love had spread out its wings. Psyche was born for love! No longer for that passive and vague love which was but the awakening of the senses and of pleasure, but for that love of the heart which is life itself, with its sorrows, its joys, and its ecstacies. I contemplated it full of surprise, experiencing the fascination of some new enchantment.
Louis, how can I describe it? Within an hour after I had entered Kondjé-Gul's room; our quarrel, her jealousies, her offence, and the punishment I had resolved upon, were all forgotten!
Nevertheless, appreciating more completely now the defeat to which I had submitted, I could not fail to perceive the embarrassment which such strange conduct would cause me. It would, at any rate, be remarkably awkward for my wives to learn that the violent scene which had passed, and poor Hadidjé's dagger-wound, had actually become the occasion for a reconciliation with Kondjé-Gul. How could I show my face before the victim to whom it was my duty to grant justice? It was really impossible for me to show such contempt for fas and nefas as I should do were I to reward her assault upon Hadidjé in such an extraordinary fashion as by pardoning her. What in the world would Zouhra and Nazli say? It would be all over with my authority and my reputation.
At any cost, therefore, it was necessary for me to conceal my very imprudent weakness until their passions had calmed down, or until some conciliatory advances on the part of Kondjé-Gul to Hadidjé had led to the forgiveness of this deplorable folly. But directly I attempted to appeal to her reason, Kondjé-Gul, full of pride at having won me back, and even making use of my desertion as a weapon in her hands, would not hear of humiliating herself before a rival. In vain I represented to her that my own dignity, "the proprieties," and justice were at stake; she held fast to her victory, and would not forego any of its advantages.