Naguib Mahfouz - Midaq Alley (Chapter 32) lyrics

Chapter 32 Unthinkingly, she cried, "Abbas!" The young man, who had run after the carriage all the way from Opera Square, was panting and out of breath. He had sprinted off, paying attention to nothing, barging into clusters of people, not letting himself be held up by the shoves he received or turned from his course by the insults and curses. Before doing so, he had been walking arm in arm with Hussein Kersha, wandering aimlessly after leaving Vita's Bar, their peregrinations having brought them in the end to Opera Square. Hussein's eyes had happened to fall on the cab in which Hamida was riding. He'd seen the woman sitting in it, hadn't recognized her, and had raised his eyebrows in appreciation as he called his friend's attention to her. Abbas had looked at the car­ riage coming toward them as it made its way around the square. ***** He wasn't listening to her, however. He was saying, as though talking to himself, "It's not right that we should suffer without some­ one paying the price. Hamida's done for. Abbas is done for. So why should that pimp get off scot-free to laugh at our misery? I am going to break his neck and strangle him." Then, raising his voice and addressing her, he said, "And you, Hamida. What will you do with your life when I've got that devil out of your way?" Fearing what that question might lead to and apprehensive that his old weakness might return, she said decisively but calmly, "All ties to my former life are broken. However, I shall sell what j**elry I have and find respectable work in some far-off place." He said nothing for a long while, as he pondered sadly. Then he said in an almost inaudible voice, "My heart cannot forgive. ... It cannot forgive.... It cannot forgive.... But don't be in a hurry to disappear again until we see where this ends." She could hear in his tone something that warned of magnanim­ity; compa**ion, and surrender, and her eyes brightened with anxiety and wariness. In the pa**ionate depths of her heart, she would have preferred that he and her foe perish together rather than he return to her, opening his arms in forgiveness. While she could not speak frankly to him of her plans, it would not be at all difficult for her to disappear if she wished. Once the revenge for which she yearned had been taken, there could be nothing easier for her than to up stakes and go to Alexandria, of which Farag Ibrahim had spoken to her often and where she could enjoy a carefree life and limitless freedom safe from inquisitive eyes. She felt no compunction, therefore, about telling him, in the voice of a slave, "Whatever you wish, Abbas." While his heart felt the bitter pangs of misery, despair, and eager­ness for revenge, yet still it throbbed with confusion and sympathy.