Chapter VIII: Part 8

Soon Sia-Manto started suddenly;
Warm tears had fallen from Guje-Zare's eyes
Upon his face, and wakened him from sleep.
"What is it, dear?" he said. "What hast thou seen?
Tell me, why dost thou weep and tremble so?"
"In this wild place a wonder I have seen.
Forty wild bulls there were that came to drink
At yonder spring, and with them was one cow.
Then raged a fearful fight among the bulls;
And the gray bull, victorious o'er the rest,
Took him the cow. The thing reminded me
Of our own case--the forty horsemen slain--
And I was so excited that I wept."
He rose and took his arrow and his bow,
Chased the gray bull, and shot it, and it fell,
And rolled upon the ground. He rushed on it,
And with his dagger strove to cut its throat;
But the bull, bellowing madly, tossed its horns,
And threw him down the precipice profound.
And Sia-Manto fell upon his back
Upon a sharp oak trunk, that pierced his chest
Four spans and further. There he hung transfixed.

Then Guje-Zare, following him afar,
Came to the precipice, and gazed around;
Saw the wild bull in its last agony,
And heard her Sia-Manto's mournful groans.
She found his bow and arrow, picked them up,
And bent her o'er the precipice's edge
Until she saw where Sia-Manto hung.
She tore her hair, and wailed this loud lament:

"O Sia-Manto, dost thou lie so low?
Thy bow and arrow of pure silver are.
Thou hadst no need to follow the wild bull.
Oh, groan not, Sia-Manto, groan not so!"
"My Guje-Zare," from below he called,
"Weep not! Thy wailing causes me more pain
Than this curst oak trunk."

"But thou groanest there,
My Sia-Manto, and shall I not weep?
Thy groans, that pierce my heart, call forth my tears.
There is a great storm on Mount Ararat.
Here are thy bow and arrow, O my love.
Thou didst not heed me when I prayed to thee.
'Nay, lay thy bow and arrow down,' I said;
'Chase not the wild bull, he too has his mate;
Nay, let them live, like us, and love, like us.'
O thou wild bull, thou fearful, cruel bull,
Thy horns are steel, thou huge and dreadful bull
That didst part lovers on Mount Ararat.
The top of Ararat is wrapt in mist;
And Sia-Manto's bow and arrow gleam
Like pearls. Alas! who ever heard before
Of game that killed its hunter? O my love,
I told thee, 'Sia-Manto, do not go;
Let the wild bull go after his own love.
Dost thou need game, I am enough for thee.
Oh, do not, do not go!' Yet who can tell?
Perchance 'twas Heaven that had ordained it thus.
The Will above cannot be changed below.
Rocky and bushy is Mount Ararat,
And cold and deadly are its winds and storms.
O Sia-Manto! show me now a way
To reach thee where thou art, that I once more
May hold thee in my arms, and die with thee.
Oh, hither come with shovels and with spades
To turn the earth and rocks, and bury here
Both Sia-Manto and his love with him!"
She shut her eyes, and casting herself down,
Fell on her lover, uttering but one word--
"My Sia-Manto!" and he echoed it--
"My Guje-Zare!" with his latest breath.
Then silence! In each other's arms they died.
There in the Spring men still may see two flowers
Bud forth, twin blossoms, like as like can be:
Two butterflies come there to light on them.
They represent the hapless lovers twain
Who lost their lives upon Mount Ararat.

NOTES

[1] "Bedik" means in Armenian,--"little Prince."

[2] Navasard is the Armenian New Year, which falls on the 23rd of August.

[3] The Armenian mother tells this tale to her child when she puts it to bed. Its effect upon the little one is very quieting, so that the child often goes to sleep before the tale is finished.