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迪文小说>我的名字是红色 > 第67部分(第1页)

第67部分(第1页)

Even so; we were able to maintain a persistent excitement in the face of the

weariness  and  melancholy  that  descended  upon  us:  A  couple  of  times  we

forgot about the horse and lost ourselves to the beauty of a picture; to colors

that  forced  a  momentary  surrender。  Master  Osman  always  looked  at  the

pictures—most of which he himself had created; supervised or ornamented—

more out of nostalgic enthusiasm than wonder。 “These are by Kas?m from the

Kas?m  Pasha  district!”  he  said  once;  pointing  out  the  little  purple  flowers  at

the base of the red war tent of Our Sultan’s grandfather Sultan Süleyman。 “He

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was  by  no  means  a  master;  but  for  forty  years  he  filled  the  dead  space  of

pictures  with  these  five…leaf;  single…blossom  flowers;  before  he  unexpectedly

died two years ago。 I always assigned him to draw this small flower because he

could do it better than anyone。” He fell silent for a moment; then exclaimed;

“It’s a pity; a pity!” With all my soul; I sensed that these words signified the

end of an era。

Darkness  had  nearly  overtaken  us;  when  a  light  flooded  the  room。  There

was  a  motion。  My  heart;  which  had  begun  to  beat  like  a  drum;

prehended  immediately:  The  Ruler  of  the  World;  His  Excellency  Our

Sultan had abruptly entered。 I threw myself at His feet。 I kissed the hem of His

robe。 My head spun。 I couldn’t look Him in the eye。

He’d  long  since  begun  speaking  with  Head  Illuminator  Master  Osman

anyway。  It  filled  me  with  fiery  pride  to  witness  Him  speak  to  the  man  with

whom  I’d  only  moments  ago  been  sitting  knee  to  knee  looking  at  pictures。

Unbelievable; His Excellency Our Sultan was now sitting where I’d been earlier

and He was listening attentively to what my master was explaining; as I had

done。 The Head Treasurer; who was at his side and the Agha of the Falconers

and  a  few  others  whose  identities  I  couldn’t  make  out  were  keeping  close

guard over Him and gazing at the open pages of books with rapt attention。 I

gathered  all  my  courage  and  looked  at  length  at  the  face  and  eyes  of  the

Sovereign Ruler of the World; albeit with a sidelong glance。 How handsome He

was!  How  upright  and  proper!  My  heart  no  longer  beat  excitedly。  At  that

moment; our eyes met。

“How  much  I  loved  your  Enishte;  may  he  rest  in  peace;”  He  said。  Yes;  He

was speaking to me。 In my excitement; I missed some of what He was saying。

“…I was quite aggrieved。 Hofort to see that each of

these pictures he made is a masterpiece。 When the Veian giaour sees these;

he will be stunned and fear my wisdom。 You shall determine who the accursed

miniaturist  is  by  this  horse’s  nose。  Otherwise;  however  merciless;  it’ll  be

necessary to torture all the master miniaturists。”

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