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Mustapha’s White Rose of Allah, we honour you with Wives dances to express our happiness. Please enjoy. Mustapha And these old walls – which are as dull and el Kéébir gloomy as Spanish roumis – will brighten instantly.

Laïïleh That mountain’s proud Moudjardjo isn’t it – there – opposite – crowned with a huge fortress? Mustapha Which was the tiara of their warrior-priest. Laïïleh But now our Crescent has replaced their Cross. Mustapha Glory to Allah! The mountain they called Santa el Kéébir Cruz has reclaimed its rightful name Moudjardjo. Laïïleh And the tiara’s now your turban of glory. Mustapha’s If our lord permits it, Fatimeh – Wives our sweetest voice – will tell the age-old story of a saint who lived there moons and moons ago. Fatimeh My sisters make fun of me. I don’t know how I must speak to tell a convincing tale. Mustapha But Shahrazad will light her lamp to show el Kéébir you and she’ll help you to convey it well.

Fatimeh Long ago there lived a saint who in previous times had been a great sultan like our Bey. He preferred that rock to his luxurious palace and asked for miracles: the rock obeyed. For the thirsty it sprang the waters of life; it gave forgiveness to the man who cried in his remorse; a child to the sterile wife. He was so happy he never wanted to die! And then, well, he died for even so he wasn’t Allah. But he comes each day to bless us and of course we never know him since he’s horse, pilgrim, bird of prey . . . Laïïleh O Fatimeh, you have the lamp and voice. Thank you for telling the lovely legend to us.

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