Eugène Sue,
The Knight of Malta
“ This guzla, it once belonged to the emir; he gave it to me. Thanks to it the last moments of my mother were peaceful,—poor mother!” A tear glittered a moment in the black eye of the Bohemian; then, as if he wished to drive away these painful memories, he took up his guzla quickly and recited these other stanzas in a proud and excited voice, as he made his sonorous instrument resound: “The name of the emir is sacred in his tribe; let him but speak and we will die. “Not one is more brave; not one is more beautiful; not one is more noble. ”
