Page:Iracéma, the honey-lips (1886).djvu/98

upon the transparent blue the whiteness of a sail wandering over the seas. At a short distance from the cabin, at the edge of the ocean, was a dune of sand. The fishermen called it Jacarécanga,^[1] on account of its resemblance to a crocodile՚s head. From the bosom of the white sands scorched by the ardent sun flowed a pure fresh water; thus pain distils sweet tears of relief and consolation. To this hill the Christian would repair, and remain there meditating upon his destiny. Sometimes the idea of returning to his own country and people would cross his mind, but he knew that Iraçéma would accompany him, and this thought gnawed his heart. Each step that took Iraçéma farther from her native plains, now that she no longer could nestle in his heart, was to rob her of a portion of her life.

Poty knows that Martim desires to be alone, and discreetly withdraws. The warrior knows what afflicts his brother՚s soul, and hopes all things from time, which alone hardens the warrior՚s heart, like the core of the Jacarandá.

Iraçéma also avoids the eyes of her husband, because she already perceives that those eyes, so much loved, are troubled at her sight, and, instead of filling with delight at her beauty as formerly, now seem to turn wearily away. But her eyes never tire of following apart, and at a distance, her Lord and Warrior, who had made them captive.

Woe to her! . . . The blow had struck home to her heart, and, like the Copaiba,^[2] wounded in the core, she shed tears in one continuous stream.