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| <!DOCTYPE html> | ||
| <html lang="en"> | ||
| <head> | ||
| <meta charset="UTF-8"> | ||
| <meta http-equiv="X-UA-Compatible" content="IE=edge"> | ||
| <meta name="viewport" content="width=device-width, initial-scale=1.0"> | ||
| <title>the alchemist</title> | ||
| <link rel="stylesheet" href="style.css"> | ||
| </head> | ||
| <body> | ||
| <div class="container" > | ||
| <div id="myHeader" class="header"> | ||
| <a href="index.html"><button class="home-button">Home</button></a> | ||
| <button class="bookmark-button">Bookmark</button> | ||
| <div class="wrapper"> | ||
| <input type="text" id="text-to-search" placeholder="Enter text to search..."> | ||
| <button onclick="search()">Search</button> | ||
| </div> | ||
| </div> | ||
| <h6>Author</h6> | ||
| <h1>Paulo Coelho</h1> | ||
| <h6>Brazilian lyricist</h6> | ||
| <p id="paragraph"> | ||
| “‘Well, there is only one piece of advice I can give you,’ said the | ||
| wisest of wise men. ‘The secret of happiness is to see all the marvels | ||
| of the world, and never to forget the drops of oil on the spoon.’” | ||
| The shepherd said nothing. He had understood the story the old | ||
| king had told him. A shepherd may like to travel, but he should | ||
| never forget about his sheep. | ||
| The old man looked at the boy and, with his hands held together, | ||
| made several strange gestures over the boy’s head. Then, taking his | ||
| sheep, he walked away. | ||
| AT THE HIGHEST POINT IN TARIFA THERE IS AN OLD FORT, built by the | ||
| Moors. From atop its walls, one can catch a glimpse of Africa. | ||
| Melchizedek, the king of Salem, sat on the wall of the fort that | ||
| afternoon, and felt the levanter blowing in his face. The sheep | ||
| fidgeted nearby, uneasy with their new owner and excited by so | ||
| much change. All they wanted was food and water. | ||
| Melchizedek watched a small ship that was plowing its way out | ||
| of the port. He would never again see the boy, just as he had never | ||
| seen Abraham again after having charged him his one-tenth fee. | ||
| That was his work. | ||
| The gods should not have desires, because they don’t have | ||
| Personal Legends. But the king of Salem hoped desperately that the | ||
| boy would be successful. | ||
| It’s too bad that he’s quickly going to forget my name, he | ||
| thought. I should have repeated it for him. Then when he spoke | ||
| about me he would say that I am Melchizedek, the king of Salem. | ||
| He looked to the skies, feeling a bit abashed, and said, “I know | ||
| it’s the vanity of vanities, as you said, my Lord. But an old king | ||
| sometimes has to take some pride in himself.” | ||
| HOW STRANGE AFRICA IS, THOUGHT THE BOY. | ||
| He was sitting in a bar very much like the other bars he had seen | ||
| along the narrow streets of Tangier. Some men were smoking from | ||
| a gigantic pipe that they passed from one to the other. In just a few | ||
| hours he had seen men walking hand in hand, women with their | ||
| faces covered, and priests that climbed to the tops of towers and | ||
| chanted—as everyone about him went to their knees and placed | ||
| their foreheads on the ground. | ||
| “A practice of infidels,” he said to himself. As a child in church, he | ||
| had always looked at the image of Saint Santiago Matamoros on his | ||
| white horse, his sword unsheathed, and figures such as these | ||
| kneeling at his feet. The boy felt ill and terribly alone. The infidels | ||
| had an evil look about them. | ||
| Besides this, in the rush of his travels he had forgotten a detail, | ||
| just one detail, which could keep him from his treasure for a long | ||
| time: only Arabic was spoken in this country. | ||
| The owner of the bar approached him, and the boy pointed to a | ||
| drink that had been served at the next table. It turned out to be a | ||
| bitter tea. The boy preferred wine. | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 14</h5> | ||
| <a href="alchemist13.html" class="previous">« Previous</a> | ||
| <a href="alchemist15.html" class="next">Next »</a> | ||
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