The Alchemist | Page 4

in a field with my sheep, when a child
appeared and began to play with the animals. I don't like people to do that, because the sheep are afraid
of strangers. But children always seem to be able to play with them without frightening them. I don't
know why. I don't know how animals know the age of human beings."
"Tell me more about your dream," said the woman. "I have to get back to my cooking, and, since you
don't have much money, I can't give you a lot of time."
"The child went on playing with my sheep for quite a while," continued the boy, a bit upset. "And
suddenly, the child took me by both hands and transported me to the Egyptian pyramids."
He paused for a moment to see if the woman knew what the Egyptian pyramids were. But she said
nothing.
"Then, at the Egyptian pyramids,"—he said the last three words slowly, so that the old woman would
understand—"the child said to me, If you come here, you will find a hidden treasure.' And, just as she
was about to show me the exact location, I woke up. Both times."
The woman was silent for some time. Then she again took his hands and studied them carefully.
"I'm not going to charge you anything now," she said. "But I want one-tenth of the treasure, if you find it."
The boy laughed—out of happiness. He was going to be able to save the little money he had because of

a dream about hidden treasure!
"Well, interpret the dream," he said.
"First, swear to me. Swear that you will give me one-tenth of your treasure in exchange for what I am
going to tell you."
The shepherd swore that he would. The old woman asked him to swear again while looking at the image
of the Sacred Heart of Jesus.
"It's a dream in the language of the world," she said. "I can interpret it, but the interpretation is very
difficult. That's why I feel that I deserve a part of what you find.
"And this is my interpretation: you must go to the Pyramids in Egypt. I have never heard of them, but, if it
was a child who showed them to you, they exist. There you will find a treasure that will make you a rich
man."
The boy was surprised, and then irritated. He didn't need to seek out the old woman for this! But then
he remembered that he wasn't going to have to pay anything.
"I didn't need to waste my time just for this," he said.
"I told you that your dream was a difficult one. It's the simple things in life that are the most
extraordinary; only wise men are able to understand them. And since I am not wise, I have had to learn
other arts, such as the reading of palms."
"Well, how am I going to get to Egypt?"
"I only interpret dreams. I don't know how to turn them into reality. That's why I have to live off what my
daughters provide me with."
"And what if I never get to Egypt?"
"Then I don't get paid. It wouldn't be the first time."
And the woman told the boy to leave, saying she had already wasted too much time with him.
So the boy was disappointed; he decided that he would never again believe in dreams. He remembered
that he had a number of things he had to take care of: he went to the market for something to eat, he
traded his book for one that was thicker, and he found a bench in the plaza where he could sample the
new wine he had bought. The day was hot, and the wine was refreshing. The sheep were at the gates of
the city, in a stable that belonged to a friend. The boy knew a lot of people in the city. That was what
made traveling appeal to him—he always made new friends, and he didn't need to spend all of his time
with them. When someone sees the same people every day, as had happened with him at the seminary,
they wind up becoming a part of that person's life. And then they want the person to change. If someone
isn't what others want them to be, the others become angry. Everyone seems to have a clear idea of how
other people should lead their lives, but none about his or her own.
He decided to wait until the sun had sunk a bit lower in the sky before following his flock back through
the fields. Three days from now, he would be with the merchant's daughter.

He started to read the book he had bought. On the very first page it described a burial ceremony. And
the names of the people involved were very difficult to pronounce. If he ever wrote a book, he thought,
he would present one person at a time,