'My own,' exclaimed the Princess, as she ran up to the Caliph. 'I have
heard all. Be not alarmed for me. I dare look upon a corpse. You know I
am a soldier's bride. I am used to blood.'
'Alas!'
'Why so pale? Thou dost not kiss me! Has this unhinged thee so? 'Tis a
sad deed; and yet tomorrow's dawn may light up thousands to as grim a
fate. Why? thou tremblest! Alas! kind soul! The single death of this
fond, faithful heart hath quite upset my love. Yet art thou used to
battle. Why! this is foolishness. Art not glad to see me? What, not one
smile! And I have come to fight for thee! I will be kissed!'
She flung herself upon his neck. Alroy faintly returned her embrace, and
bore her to a couch. He clapped his hands, and two soldiers entered and
bore away the corpse.
'The pavilion, Schirene, is now fitter for thy presence. Rest thyself; I
shall soon return.' Thus speaking, he quitted her.
He quitted her; but her humbled look of sorrowful mortification pierced
to his heart. He thought of all her love and all her loveliness, he
called to mind all the marvellous story of their united fortunes. He
felt that for her and her alone he cared to live, that without her quick
sympathy, even success seemed unendurable.
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