“Oh, Ghandûr, where hast thou been?”—“I have a new tarbûsh.”—“The bitch beneath our windows has five puppies—blind, by Allah’s mercy! Come and see!”—“My doll! Like a daughter of Adam—a bride arrayed—a virgin—almost a sin for thee to look on! Come and see!”
Half weeping as he was, Ghandûr responded; and, unaware of his preoccupation, the children led him towards the women’s doorway.
“Go in as far as to the second screen—no farther!” said the eunuch there on guard.
Ghandûr was careful to obey; but his attendant imps, regarding all authority as ground for sport, banded together suddenly and dragged him on. He shook them off and drew back quickly; the eunuch came and scattered them with swishing cane; and then the children, tumbling over one another, began to fight among themselves with fearful insults.
“By my maidenhood, I swear to kill thee and devour thy liver!” screamed out a girl of eight to a small boy who pushed against her.
“I will ravish thee, abandoned one, and then eject thee on a dunghill!”
The lady Fitnah from behind the screen cried out for order, naming Hamdi, her own son, as probably the cause of tumult. The eunuch fell upon that wayward, dreamy adolescent, whom Ghandûr did his utmost to protect, for he was Yûsuf’s brother; while Fitnah Khânum asked what sin she had committed to be punished with a boy so lazy and so mischievous. She cared for Hamdi, but without indulgence. Her love was made a whip-lash for his good. At last came silence, and Ghandûr poured forth his grief.
“O Lord, have mercy! Woe upon us all! O most gracious lady, rare pearl of beauty and refinement, companion of my dearest lord and brother! Behold the glory of our house is in the dust.”
“By Allah, in the dust! Thou sayest truly!” scoffed the lady Fitnah. “It is of that very business that I wish to speak with thee. What is the truth about her walking in the dust, thou who wast with her? Is it true that she had been alone with Frankish men? Was no man following—didst thou look well?—when she walked off alone, rejecting thee? Was not her chin upon her shoulder, and her gaze behind her, ogling? Did I not well to rail against that marriage? Now it is clearly proven that she has no modesty.”
“O my despair! O evil day! The fault is mine!” cried out Ghandûr, beside himself. “Blame not her Grace; she is the noblest lady—as innocent as is a babe; she thinks no evil. O bitter grief! O Allah! O calamity!”