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作者: Machado de Assis

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Then another thought came into her mind--Hermo. He had begun to
teach her the mysteries of his science of Astrology. Hermo, for
whom she had a pure sisterly regard and who was so proud of her
swift proficiency in his favorite study. And then she recalled
the vision of the previous night when Hermo had shown to her
clairvoyant eye his agitation at her impending doom.
"But if I become Nu-nah and Nu-nah becomes Sarthia, Hermo will
never know the difference and thus be spared the pain of loving
his young sister. And furthermore, Nu-nah has a lover to whom she
is betrothed and would have married, ere this, but for her
lingering malady, the superb young Prince Rathunor, whom I have
never seen."
Ah! here was indeed a most dire complication. Love was a most
mysterious and unknown emotion to her. She might hate Prince
Rathunor and "then we would both wish I had died," and she half
laughed to herself at the domestic comedy thus presented to her
mind.

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