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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> | ||
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| <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"> | ||
| “There’s gold here,” he said. | ||
| The moon shone on the face of the Arab who had seized him, and | ||
| in the man’s eyes the boy saw death. | ||
| “He’s probably got more gold hidden in the ground.” | ||
| They made the boy continue digging, but he found nothing. As | ||
| the sun rose, the men began to beat the boy. He was bruised and | ||
| bleeding, his clothing was torn to shreds, and he felt that death was | ||
| near. | ||
| “What good is money to you if you’re going to die? It’s not often | ||
| that money can save someone’s life,” the alchemist had said. Finally, | ||
| the boy screamed at the men, “I’m digging for treasure!” And, | ||
| although his mouth was bleeding and swollen, he told his attackers | ||
| that he had twice dreamed of a treasure hidden near the Pyramids | ||
| of Egypt. | ||
| The man who appeared to be the leader of the group spoke to | ||
| one of the others: “Leave him. He doesn’t have anything else. He | ||
| must have stolen this gold.” | ||
| The boy fell to the sand, nearly unconscious. The leader shook | ||
| him and said, “We’re leaving.” | ||
| But before they left, he came back to the boy and said, “You’re | ||
| not going to die. You’ll live, and you’ll learn that a man shouldn’t be | ||
| so stupid. Two years ago, right here on this spot, I had a recurrent | ||
| dream, too. I dreamed that I should travel to the fields of Spain and | ||
| look for a ruined church where shepherds and their sheep slept. In | ||
| my dream, there was a sycamore growing out of the ruins of the | ||
| sacristy, and I was told that, if I dug at the roots of the sycamore, I | ||
| would find a hidden treasure. But I’m not so stupid as to cross an | ||
| entire desert just because of a recurrent dream.” | ||
| And they disappeared. | ||
| The boy stood up shakily, and looked once more at the | ||
| Pyramids. They seemed to laugh at him, and he laughed back, his | ||
| heart bursting with joy. | ||
| Because now he knew where his treasure was. | ||
| EPILOGUE | ||
| THE BOY REACHED THE SMALL, ABANDONED CHURCH JUST as night was | ||
| falling. The sycamore was still there in the sacristy, and the stars | ||
| could still be seen through the half-destroyed roof. He remembered | ||
| the time he had been there with his sheep; it had been a peaceful | ||
| night…except for the dream. | ||
| Now he was here not with his flock, but with a shovel. | ||
| He sat looking at the sky for a long time. Then he took from his | ||
| knapsack a bottle of wine, and drank some. He remembered the | ||
| night in the desert when he had sat with the alchemist, as they | ||
| looked at the stars and drank wine together. He thought of the many | ||
| roads he had traveled, and of the strange way God had chosen to | ||
| show him his treasure. If he hadn’t believed in the significance of | ||
| recurrent dreams, he would not have met the Gypsy woman, the | ||
| king, the thief, or…“Well, it’s a long list. But the path was written in | ||
| the omens, and there was no way I could go wrong,” he said to | ||
| himself. | ||
| </p> | ||
| <div> | ||
| <h5 class="pageNumber">Page 61</h5> | ||
| <a href="alchemist60.html" class="previous">« Previous</a> | ||
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