The Beggar by Naguib Mahfouz

Author:Naguib Mahfouz [Mahfouz, Naguib]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2016-06-15T00:00:00+00:00

ELEVEN

He kissed her with fervent gratitude. “I know it’s a great sacrifice to quit your job.”

Her wide eyes shone with tears. “For your sake.”

The Oriental room exuded the breath of love. He’d never dreamed he would love her so intensely. She withdrew a dark blue box from the pocket of her robe and handed it to him shyly—a gift of golden cuff links.

He exclaimed, as though he’d never owned gold before, “Sweetheart!”

“The cuff links, you can see, have two hearts.”

“Because your heart is made of gold, as I told you.”

Running her fingers through his thick black hair, she asked, “Why did you bring all your clothes with you today?”

His face clouded, and he said in a voice devoid of tenderness, “I’ve left home for good.”

She exclaimed in astonishment, “No!”

“It’s the only solution.”

“But I told you, I don’t want to cause you any trouble.”

“Let’s not talk about it.”

The room’s atmosphere in the silence of dawn was electric. She looked at him with angry and desperate eyes, her makeup smudged with all the tears she’d shed. How ravaged by anger is a face which had remained placid for twenty years.

“You should train yourself to accept the facts.”

“While you stain your honor with a prostitute.”

“Your voice will wake everyone up.”

“Look at the lipstick on your handkerchief. How disgusting!”

Overcome by anger, he shouted, “What of it?”

“Your daughter is of marriageable age.”

“I’m ridding myself of death.”

“Aren’t you ashamed? I’m ashamed for you.”

His anger increasing, he replied, “Accepting death is even more shameful.”

Her head dropped as she wept. “Twenty years without knowing your filth,” she said in a choked voice.

He said insanely, “So, let it be the end.”

“I’ll wander around aimlessly.”

“No, this is your home; so stay. I’ll go.”

You threw yourself on a chair in the living room, your eyes closed with pain. Hearing a noise, you raised your head and found Buthayna standing before you, pale-faced and still drowsy-eyed with sleep.

The atmosphere was charged with guilt and reproach as you gazed at each other in silence. You remembered the disgraceful lie, and in all your life had never felt so ashamed.

“I’m sorry, Buthayna, for upsetting you.”

The compressed lips revealed her wounded pride. “There’s no use in talking,” she said, then reverted to silence, succumbing to the burden which had fallen upon her.

“Your mother will remain in the house, provided with every comfort.”

He prayed to God that she wouldn’t cry. “It’s distressing,” he murmured, “but I’m ridding my soul of something more serious.”

She looked sadly into his eyes. “But you told me there was nothing.”

His face burning, he sighed. “The truth was inappropriate.”

“Why?”

“Let’s preserve what love there is between us.”

You left, unable to meet her glance again until she pardons you.

Warda commented, “You’ll regret your decision.”

“No, I can’t stand the hypocrisy anymore.”

She said anxiously, “I’m so afraid that I’ll fail to make you happy.”

“But I am happy, really.”

And so he applied himself to happiness and shunned all disturbing thoughts. Anticipating resistance from Mustapha, he accosted him. “I’m happy. Does that displease you? I even feel some poetic stirrings.

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