When the festivities were over and the bridegroom had a moment in which to withdraw from everyone, he summoned the little bird, whose services the third dervish had promised, but of which he had not felt the need before, and asked if his wife would love him.
The little creature hopped close to his ear and chirped into it, “How is it possible for her to love you, when she already is in love with her own cousin?”
This answer decided the youth to abandon his new relations and return to the coffeehouse; which he accordingly did. [[177]]
The rich man and his family asked each other, “What manner of man is this, who leaves his wife upon the very day of their marriage?”
But all their questioning would not induce the return of the bridegroom. “It were better to consult your daughter before giving her in marriage to a stranger,” was all he would vouchsafe in explanation.
Shortly after, another rich man came and made the same proposal, allowing no time for serious thought or for consultation with the small oracle.
“There can be hardly such another case,” said the youth to himself, as the rich man pressed his suit; so the matter was accepted and carried out as was the other. But when the small bird was summoned, it answered that the father had married his daughter to the coffee-maker, well knowing that her heart had been given to a son of their neighbor.
So the second time the bridegroom left the house of his father-in-law and returned again to his own place.
One day, not long after, as he was walking by the seashore, meditating upon the strange way in which life was leading him, he came upon a shepherd accompanied by his daughter. The shepherd’s lassie was young and very winsome. It was not strange that the lonely young coffee-maker should [[178]]look at her a second and even a third time, or that he should address the father with:
“Ai, good shepherd, is this your daughter?”