While his twelve companions conversed with them,
Alexander uttered not a word. Soredamors took note of this,
seated as she was close by his side. Her head resting upon her
hand, it was plain that she was lost in thought. (18) Thus they
sat a long time, until Soredamors saw on his sleeve and about his
neck the hair which she had stitched into the shirt. Then she
drew a little closer thinking now to find an excuse for speaking
a word to him. She considers how she can address him first, and
what the first word is to be--whether she should address him by
his name; and thus she takes counsel with herself: "What shall I
say first?" she says; "shall I address him by his name, or shall
I call him `friend'? Friend? Not I. How then? Shall I call
him by his name? God! The name of `friend' is fair and sweet to
take upon the lips. If I should dare to call him `friend.!
Should I dare? What forbids me to do so? The fact that that
implies a lie. A lie? I know not what the result will be, but I
shall be sorry if I do not speak the truth. Therefore, it is
best to admit that I should not like to speak a lie. God! yet
he would not speak a lie were he to call me his sweet friend!
And should I lie in thus addressing him? We ought both to tell
the truth.
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