The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1884-02-23
THE ORIGINAL SHYLOCK.

Il S0COHtc
Translated from the Scribe language by Louis Leger
and from the French by Prof. lie Gendre.
The father of Omer upbraded him every day
for his idleness and his love to the streets of
Saraiero, playing on the tambourica.
You are young my son, said he to him; we
are old: cannot work. Who will feed us if
you do notf"
Omer paid no attention to his fathers counsels
and refused to work. He was known at Saraiero
as the chief of all the idlers. To go from house
to house. from window to window-such was his
occupation. Everybody saw that Omer was not
yet ripe for marriage, and marriage was forbid
den to him, both on account of his youth and his
empty purse. Everybody was convinced that
duct reflected upon his poor parents The sor-
row which they experienced abridged their lives
They died.
Omer remained the chief of an empty house
with three orphans For a long time he had
been DESTROYS to live in freedom without having
to incur his fathers reproaches and to be able
to satisfy all his caprices; but he felt how
hard it to live without parents, and how
heavy was the house upon his shoulders.
''Who will spin now, who will weave, who will
sweep the house? This is serious business
Having thus reflected, Omer said to himself:
by my tambourica, nothing remains but to
marry"
And he hung his tamboulica on his shoulder
and proceeded under the windows of the beaut-
full Meira He arrived there at the hour when
the Turks pray A light was burning, and
voices were heard in the chamber 0mer
knocked at the window; silence ensued. He
sang! The light was put out. No one paid any
attention to him.
For three evenings in succession he came I'M
der the window, and each time returned home sad
and desoate Mera had not shown herself
He went back a fourth time.
Here will | sing again tonight and will
come back no more under her windows
He tuned his tambourca, and with sad voice
sang:
Bow, sweet Joy;
Long enough hast thou fed my hunger
And quenched my thirst
Tambourica my pastme.
Bow, my sweet joy;
Alas! I've lost whole year
Singing under Meira's window;
Meila will not even look at me-
At those words, the light WAS eXtngushed the
window suddenly opened Omer was mad with
Joy, but Meira said to him:
II think you have become crazy, Omer | am
astonished at your whims. What do you seek
under my window? All that is quite useless, let
me tell you"
Omeris Joy vanished away, and behold him now
more desolate than ever.
Meira. seeing his great agitation, resumed:
MY friend, you wish, perhaps, to marry me.
Is it So Omer!
YES" he replied.
Take care" she continued. 'that cannot be.
You have not morsel of bread at home and you
dream of marriage! | know what you are going
to say, Birds of a feather flock together My
parents poor, istrue. but there is prettier
Girl than in Saraero; | can get a rich husband
But listen, Omer, neither gold nor silver can
make one happy; they do not satisfy the hearts
craving. AS for me- l would prefer you to all
Saraiero; but | love and respect my parents.
will only marry one who is willing to make
them happy and is capable to maintain them
until death
Omer having heard that reflected a little
"Ah, if l only knew how much would be
qnired!'
trader. l shall be satisfied if you can only pro
cure food and raiment for my parents and your
orphans.
''Adieu. Meira," said Omer, 81 comprehend
all, and if anything can result from all that to
morrow we shall see another again"
Full of joy ana sadness at thesame time, Omel
left Meira.
''Ahm said he. to himself; 'if can borrow
money somewhere, who would be happier than
p If I cannot, who will he more unhappy!"
That idea pursued him the whole night in his
dreams. When lie aWokc he no longer l;ncf
what he was about so joyful was he. He had