Kismet : $b An "Arabian night" in three acts

MORNING

SCENE I. _A Street before the Mosque of the Carpenters._

(_Right and left from the point of view of the actor._)

_In the centre, steps lead up to the Mosque, which is on the right. Only the lower part of the minaret is visible. A large stone to the left of the steps forms a rough seat._

_It is just before dawn, which rises rapidly, so that it is daylight by the end of the scene._

_Asleep, on the stone, wrapped in his beggar’s cloak of a hundred rags and patches, sits HAJJ, reclining against the angle of the wall. He is a man of about fifty, still in the full vigour of his manhood. His beard is thin and unkempt; but his face is keen, shrewd and full of humour. At a glance he shows himself to be a man of the people, who lives by his wits, untroubled by what the morrow may bring him. At present he is sleeping the sleep of the just to the tune of a hearty snore._

_After a few moments of peace, steps are heard in the alley left, and the MUEZZIN, an old man of seventy, appears with a lanthorn and a large key. He goes to the door of the Mosque and unlocks it._

_Cocks begin to crow far and near._

_The “brush” of the dawn appears in the sky._

(_HAJJ, disturbed by the clatter, turns and yawns prodigiously—stretching himself._)

Hajj. In the name of Allah,—Day?

THE MUEZZIN. (_Coming towards him._) Peace be on thee, O Hajj.

Hajj. And on thee, peace and blessing, O my friend. (_The MUEZZIN enters the Mosque._)

(_IMAM MAHMUD, a venerable white bearded sage, appears. HAJJ stifles a yawn, sits up, and assumes his beggar’s attitude—the right hand out, the head dejectedly on one side._)

Hajj. (_As the IMAM comes to him in a whining sing-song._) Alms, for the love of Allah! For the love of Allah, alms!

Mahmud. (_Handing HAJJ a small round loaf._) Take! The Giver giveth thee this. (_He crosses in front of HAJJ and goes up the steps._)

Hajj. (_Taking the bread._) Verily, thy good deeds shall witness for thee on the day of judgment, O Mahmud.

Mahmud. (_Stopping._) The peace upon thee and a full harvest of tears and pity for thy poverty.

Hajj. Nay, sooner pray it be a full hand of silver and gold.

Mahmud. That shall be even as Allah foredooms. Naught befalls us but what His pen hath written.

Hajj. Praise be to Allah, the One, the Omnipotent.

Mahmud. And to Mohammed his Prophet, whom Allah bless and preserve. (_He goes into the Mosque._)

(_HAJJ looks after him, grunts, and then turns and fumbles behind the stone, pulling out a chipped, earthen jug of water. He then mumbles “In the name of Allah,” drinks from the jug and munches his bread, smacking his lips loudly._)

(_Meanwhile, from the minaret the voice of the MUEZZIN is heard calling to prayer, and other distant calls to prayer may be heard from various quarters._)

Allah is Almighty, Allah is Almighty! There is no God but Allah! There is no God but Allah! Come ye to prayer! Come ye to salvation! Prayer is better than sleep! Prayer is better than sleep! No God is there but Allah!

(_Steps resound in the streets. HAJJ quickly conceals his bread and jug behind the stone. Men now come at intervals by the two alleys and enter the Mosque. At the threshold they take off their slippers with their left hand, entering with the right foot, ejaculating, “In the name of Allah.”_)

Hajj. Alms for a starving brother. Bind a body and soul together!—O master! Thy large brow proclaims an open heart. A danik! A fils! (_The MAN gives a coin and passes on._) Heaven hath seen this, O my master. In the name of the Compassionating, the Compassionate! A blessing on thy white beard. Thou art nearing thy grave! Buy thy salvation from thy slave. (_The MAN passes on murmuring “Allah will give it thee.”_) Nothing. May’st thou burn for it, O thou dog! (_To another._) O brother, mine eyes have failed me! (_He rolls up his eyes._) Hast thou a blind father or one dearest to thee groping in darkness? (_The MAN gives a coin and passes on._) A dirham! The Bestower requite it thee, O my lord. (_To another._) O Azir, my master, I see thee well, though it scarce be day. Is he better, thy son, the light of thy house? Be his fever abated? (_The MAN passes on muttering “Allah will provide.”_) Nought? May the Ghuls suck away thy bastard’s breath. (_To another._) O stranger! Not so quickly. Haste is from Hell; Heaven will wait for thee. (_To a young man._) O fair youth, a trifle. On my knees have I lain here these endless years. (_The MAN gives him a coin._) The Protector increase thy weal. (_To the MUFTI, an old man._) O Mufti—a word. Thou knowest the bitterness of a long life and a weary. I am young, alas. All my sad days stretch before me.

The Mufti. Please Allah to-morrow——

Hajj. (_Getting between the MUFTI and the steps of the Mosque._) Thou dost ever say to-morrow.

The Mufti. (_Laughing._) And is not to-morrow ever to-morrow?

Hajj. True. The stench of thy soul lessens not from dawn to dawn.

The Mufti. Out of my way. (_He pushes past HAJJ into the Mosque._)

Hajj. With joy and gladness—for thy way leads to damnation. (_Several men enter singly and by twos as HAJJ continues in a sing-song tone._) Glory be to Allah! Upon Allah dependeth daily bread. Thy wealth is not thine own, O rich man. Thou art as poor as the poorest. Allah alone giveth, and what he giveth belongeth not to thee. Thy gold is but a blessing to become a blessing. Then open thy purse and let the afflicted bend to the holy House of Meccah for thee, and every danik out of thy hand will return to thee a thousandfold through the prayers of the poor.

(_Men have gone into the Mosque, some giving coin, others passing on. From the street on the left the guide NASIR enters conducting the SHEIKH JAWAN, an old man, who is leaning on two black slaves and followed by two others. He is clothed completely in white, his face veiled by a “Taylasan,” a scarf hiding his beard. He is over sixty and paralysed in his legs, but his eyes are still full of fire. TWO SLAVES retire. Slowly the SHEIKH mounts the steps supported by the other TWO SLAVES._)

(_HAJJ catches hold of the hem of his cloak._)

Hajj. Alms, for the love of Allah! For the love of Allah, alms!

Jawan. (_Turning._) O Hajj, thou?

Hajj. (_Surprised, rising and following him._) Thou knowest me?

Jawan. Thou still here mumbling for crusts? (_He laughs, a nasal laugh, mockingly._) He, he, he!

(_NASIR takes off JAWAN’S slippers._)

Hajj. (_On the Mosque steps._) Who art thou?

Jawan. Who am I? He, he! Who am I? He, he, he!

(_He turns with his slaves and goes off into the Mosque followed by the guide NASIR._)

(_HAJJ looks after him mystified and riveted by a haunting memory; then slowly regains his seat, counting his profits as he does so. “One, two, three—five.”_)

(_Meanwhile KASIM, a young, ragged, one-eyed beggar, has come and sat down on HAJJ’S seat. He is busy tying some strips round one of his legs, quite unconscious of usurping anyone’s rights. HAJJ is about to sit, when he turns, and, seeing KASIM, exclaims an amazed “Yehh!” He comes slowly up to the intruder and touches him provokingly on the arm._)

Hajj. (_Squatting._) And what may thy business be?

Kasim. Canst thou not see? I am a beggar even as thou.

Hajj. Thou—even as I? Thou? Knowest thou what thou say’st?

Kasim. My ears can hear my tongue.

Hajj. O monstrous piece of impudence! A beggar even as I? ’Tis plain thou art a stranger to Baghdad.

Kasim. Thou hast said it. I come from afar. My name’s Kasim. And thou?

Hajj. I? I? Ha! ha! (_Patronisingly._) O thou poor fool. But there, thou art a stranger. I? I am Hajj—Hajj, the beggar.

Kasim. Hajj? A pilgrim? Then thou hast been to Holy Meccah?

Hajj. Not I! Never a foot have I stirred beyond our city walls. My parents called me Hajj at my birth, so that the sacred title might win me added pity from the passer-by. Not a child in the quarter but calleth me thus by name. I have sat upon that stone these fifty summers and winters, drinking the sun, and more oft than not the moon too, scorning the pent-up sleep of a bed.

Kasim. (_Sneeringly._) These fifty summers? Say’st thou so?

Hajj. (_Excitedly._) Yea! And before me my father sat there, superb in rags, and before him, his; and so on to the beginning without beginning. That stone, O Kasim, is my legacy, my right, my stronghold. Not till this hour hath man dared what thou darest.

Kasim. Then this hour endeth thy kingdom. I am come to conquer.

Hajj. I pray thee, O maggotty head, bandy no words. Go get thee to yon corner (_He points to the corner left_) if it like thee. Other swine have grovelled there in their time. My vilest enemy sat there once, these many weary years since. Take his place.

Kasim. I’ll not budge from here.

Hajj. How sayst thou? Not budge? A scum like thou? A nail-pairing? A goat’s cheese at noon-tide? Not budge? We shall see, by Allah! We shall see!

(_He seizes him and pushes him towards the corner._)

Kasim. Let go! Let go, I say! Ho, Moslems, come ye to my help! Let go!

Hajj. (_Holding KASIM at arm’s length and kicking him._) Let go? There! How’s that to thy taste? Swallow that, an thou art an-hungered. A dainty dish of foot, and more to follow. One—two—three! Another mouthful?

(_NASIR, the Guide of the Sheikh, has come out of the Mosque and stands on the steps._)

Nasir. O Hajj! By the All-knowing, what’s this?

Hajj. He’d take my seat—this nothing from nowhere.

Kasim. (_Rubbing himself._) I want not his seat.

Hajj. Not now,—now that I have made thee feel the value of thine own.

(_KASIM crawls down to the stone left, nursing his kicks._)

Hajj. (_Sits in his seat._) A joyous day indeed and a well begun! What with this one-eyed dog, and thy miserly stranger—(_breaking off._) Allah! Who is he, O Nasir?

Nasir. (_Evasively._) A man of the men. I know not.

Hajj. O brother of truth, thou knowest full well. Thou art guiding him, he lodges at thy Khan. He called me by name. Who is he?

Nasir. (_After a moment of hesitating._) Harkee, O Hajj. I have a plan to offer thee. An thou wilt fall in with my plotting, ’twill mean money to both of us.

Hajj. Money? No harm in that. Speak.

Nasir. This old man of mine has been a famous highwayman in his hour. The White Sheikh they were used to call him.

Hajj. The White Sheikh—he?

Nasir. Our Caliph deceased set his troops upon him oft and oftener. In one of his attacks, he captured most of the robber’s band—his little son amongst them, a mere stripling at the time.

Hajj. Say on.

Nasir. The boy was spared for his beauty. If he still be of the living, his age must reach nigh on thirty summers. Yet all these endless years whilst the last Caliph ruled, the Sheikh dared not enter Baghdad. Not till now, that the young monarch hath mounted the throne, hath the father ventured at last in search of his son.

Hajj. A touching tale! And how forsooth are we to coin wealth of this?

Nasir. Did’st thou not mark how broken, how stricken, the old man is? Never was there such a repentant sinner. All his moneys are spent in charities; all his hopes in the finding of his beloved son, Yusuf. The smallest word, the faintest promise from priest or soothsayer, and his hand darts into his purse. Now dost thou see dawn?

Hajj. I am to cast myself into his path. What thou hast revealed, is to flow unto me as in a vision.

Nasir. Thou hast it. And it is agreed, whate’er he bestows on thee, we share by halves, like honest Moslems that we are.

Hajj. So it please the Protector. Leave it to me.

Nasir. But harkee, O clever one, thou’lt do it carefully? Draw from all the deepest wells: a father’s longing, a father’s mad despair. Such like and more, if thou canst.

Hajj. If I can? If I can? Did I not too have a son—many years gone to-day,—a babe fair as the moon! Was he not foully murdered? His throat cut across? And my wife, the balm of mine eyes, stolen away by mine enemy? Yea, sat he not where yon dog sits now—the slaughterer of my race? Doth not yon stone make my soul ever cry aloud for blood revenge?

Nasir. So thou, too, hast felt its fire—a father’s love?

Hajj. Felt it? Hearken to this, O Nasir—and Allah pardon me for unveiling the veiled sex. I have a daughter now of fourteen summers, the child of a late spring by another wife, who is dead, alas! The maid is all that is left me on earth; dear to me above the promises of Paradise. Yet the day will come when she will be wed and wived. And she will bear the burden of another’s posterity. But mine own race, the blood of my fathers, once I am called to rest, where will it be? O brother, I am like unto a date-palm that groweth aslant the pool, and whose fruit hath fallen into the waters.

(_Men begin to come out of the Mosque and wander off by the two alleys._)

(_Dawn is giving place to daylight._)

Nasir. Prayer is over. We must not be found together.

(_NASIR retires to the alley left, and beckons to the TWO BLACK SLAVES, who join him._)

(_Meanwhile, other men are passing HAJJ, who begins in a sing-song tone, but has left his seat so as to intercept the Sheikh._)

Hajj. Alms for the love of——

Kasim. (_Whining._) Alms for the love of Allah!

Hajj. (_To KASIM._) Silence, thou dog!—(_continuing_) For the love of Allah, alms. The grave is darkness. Charity its lamp. Learn to love poverty. Be good and enter Paradise. Alms, for the love of Allah! For the love of Allah, alms!

(_The SHEIKH JAWAN reappears from the Mosque, pausing on the steps, supported by his TWO SLAVES. JAWAN conceals his face from HAJJ with his scarf._)

Hajj. (_Rising._) O Sheikh of sheikhs, the Peace upon thee. When thou spokest before, the eyes of my memory were closed. Now they are open and recall thy bounty of other days.

Jawan. Dost thou know me, indeed?

Hajj. I see thy soul clear as in crystal. Thou art come from afar in search of some one long lost. ’Tis him thou seekest, thy son.

Jawan. Yehh! This is strange. Shall I reach my desire?

Hajj. Thou shalt see thy son this day.

Jawan. Even though the curses of my foes stand between me and Allah?

Hajj. Thy prayers have killed their curses.

Jawan. Wilt thou swear to that?

Hajj. By Him, the All-seeing, the All-hearing, the All-knowing I swear it to thee.

Jawan. Will thy ragged saintliness bless me?

Hajj. Allah’s blessing upon thee and thy enterprise. May thy foes be confounded, and thy hopes rounded.

(_A slight pause—then JAWAN bursts into uncontrollable laughter—“he, he, he, he, he!”_)

Jawan. O Hajj! Dost guess what thou hast done? See! (_He withdraws the scarf from his face._) Thou hast blest thine enemy. I am he who has sat at yon corner in the long ago.

Hajj. (_Hoarsely._) Jawan!

Jawan. Yes, Jawan! He that stole thy wife and stabbed thy squealing brat and fled the city at night.

Hajj. Jawan,—the beggar,—thou?

Jawan. Jawan, the beggar, no longer Jawan the beggar. Nay, look not so amazed. My wild life hath oldened me more than thy tame life thee.

Hajj. Jawan!

Jawan. Dost thou doubt me? Hearken, then, and learn. Thy wife and I, that night of the nights, we rode out into the desert. A band of robbers found us. Time and lot made me their leader. Twenty-five years I was their chief. Twenty-five years the Caliph made war on me as on a king—his equal. And I was his equal in power, in prowess, in all—yea, even though he captured my son, the son of thy wife, thy beautiful Gulnar.

Hajj. O hog, hog-fathered! Allah ruin thee for ever.

Jawan. (_Sneeringly._) Thou dost forget thy blessings of a moment since. (_He crosses to NASIR and the other slaves._)

Hajj. I blessed thee not. I blessed an unknown.

Jawan. No, no, _me_ by the Most High, the Glorious—me. And ’tis thus through thee, that I shall find my son again. Thou hast recalled thy curses. The spell is broken at last.

Hajj. Thou shalt not live to find him. (_He springs towards Jawan._)

(_The other TWO SLAVES draw ugly looking dirks and ward off HAJJ._)

(_HAJJ stands impotent and panting—“Wah!”_)

Jawan. Said I not I was King? Allah send thee a long life, Hajj, and a happy.

Hajj. Allah send thee the foul fiend and a thousand fires.

Jawan. Too late, O brother. Thou hast stopped Heaven’s ears with thy blessings! Thy curses fall on deafness.—Behold! A poor return for thy bounty! (_He throws a purse at HAJJ._) Up and away!

(_The SLAVES turn with JAWAN and move away by the alley left, NASIR preceding them._)

Hajj. (_Desperately._) Take back thy blood money. I’ll not swallow my son’s blood! Take it back, O thou grey-beard of hell! Take it!

(_JAWAN has disappeared; his laughter, “He, he, he!” is heard dying away in the distance. KASIM crawls from his seat toward the purse._)

Hajj. Laugh! Laugh to split thy spleen! But by the Decreer, thy day shall set! For I have found thee! Thou art alive and here,—and I too—I am alive. (_Going up to KASIM._) Dost thou hear? Dost thou?—I have found him! He is back in Baghdad, he who sat where thou sittest, the butcher of my race! I shall meet him at last—hold him by the throat, the dog of dogs, and (_taking KASIM by the throat._) I shall strangle him with (_choking KASIM._) These—two—thumbs of mine.

Kasim. (_Choking._) Brother—protection!

Hajj. (_Still continuing, in his fury._) What though he be guarded by slaves with swords naked, and I, defenceless——

Kasim. (_Gasping._) Awah!

Hajj. I shall find a way to him. Buy it, if need be!—Buy? Yehh. (_He throws KASIM aside and turns to the purse._) And with his gold. His! it smelleth of blood. Every coin a crime, every chink a cry for vengeance. Allah, be thou my witness! Only for this do I touch his accursed charity. Only for this!

Kasim. Look!

(_Several men come out of the Mosque._)

Hajj. (_Quickly thrusting the purse in his bosom, returns to his stone, beginning his sing-song without looking up._) Alms for the love of Allah! For the love of Allah——

Kasim. Alms for the love of Allah! For the love of All——

Hajj. (_To KASIM._) Silence, thou louse-trap!

(_NASIR re-enters rapidly._)

Nasir. I’ve left him for an instant. He’s praying at a tomb. The purse. How much is mine?

Hajj. The purse?

Nasir. The purse he threw thee.

Hajj. (_Innocently._) I saw no purse.

Nasir. Saw no purse? Thou art jesting. Out with it. Share.

Hajj. Share? Purse? Know I what he threw or not? Sit I here to count the droppings of the street? A pretty patron thou didst serve me. Get thee gone! Thou art a rouge, a thief!

Nasir. I, a rogue? I, a thief? (_To KASIM._) Thou sawest him take the purse. (_HAJJ secretly drops the purse into his water-jug._) I call thee to witness.

Kasim. I saw him spit on it and turn from it and curse it.

Nasir. (_Catching hold of KASIM._) _Thou_ hast it. Thou hast taken it for him.

Kasim. Alas, O brother, not I.

Nasir. Give it me! Give it me! ’Tis not thine to keep.

Kasim. Strip every rag from me—thou’lt not find it.

Hajj. (_Gleefully._) Strip him! Strip him!

Kasim. (_Turning with fury to HAJJ._) _Thou_ hast it.

Hajj. Aye, strip me too. Both of us, so it give thee pleasure. Thou shalt behold rare sights. Strip us—thy slave entreats thee.

(_One of JAWAN’S NEGROES appears from the alley._)

NEGRO. O Nasir.

Hajj. (_Pointing to the negro._) Thy master calls!

Nasir. O thou villain! I go to take my charge back to the inn. But after, as thou lovest life, look to thyself and thy safety.

(_He hurries off after the NEGRO._)

Hajj. (_Shouting after him._) The Peace upon thee! Ha, ha, ha! (_He takes the purse out of the water-jug, putting it into his breast._)

Kasim. (_Laughing obsequiously._) Ha! Ha! Ha!

(_A slight pause._)

Kasim. (_Crawling over to HAJJ, cringing._) O my master, and what is my share of the spoils?

Hajj. (_Imitating KASIM._) “What is my share of the spoils?” By Solomon’s seal ring! This purse—whether it be from Heaven or from Hell,—this hath been sent by Fate to me, and me alone. There is a purpose in this purse. The scroll of destiny unrolleth itself to mine eyes. I see the writing as in flames.

Kasim. The scroll?

Hajj. Lookee, all of us have an allotted hour. This is mine. Here’s the talisman I have prayed for, many a year of waiting. The weapon to my revenge—Gold!

Kasim. What wilt thou do?

Hajj. I shall arise from the seat of dejection. (_Rises._) My days of mourning are over. I shall get me to the hammam-bath. (_Walking about._) These rags will I rip from me; the waters shall wash away my weariness. Robes of ease and decency shall broaden my breast. No more the whining voice and bent brow, and trembling palm of poverty, but head back as a fighter of the faith, shoulders free, stride bold and commanding as a king’s, yea, as he said, even as a king’s.

(_He walks excitedly up and down and throws his beggar’s cloak on his stone._)

(_The IMAM MAHMUD has come out of the Mosque and stands amazed on the steps._)

Mahmud. O HAJJ. Are thy wits fled? What means this?

Hajj. I am casting my beggardom from me.

Mahmud. Thou?

Hajj. Allah hath opened the Gate of Action to me. (_Chinking his purse._) With a golden key!

Mahmud. O my son, I fear for thee the chances and changes of time.

Hajj. Hath not the Prophet enjoined blood vengeance? I am resolved, O my father. Voyage is victory. Yet ere I go, thou who didst ever remember my misery,—take this voluntary for the poor. (_He gives MAHMUD some coin._)

Mahmud. May the Protector protect thee against all woe, may He forefend thee ever against thy foe.

Kasim. (_Going to HAJJ, still on his knees._) And I—am I to have naught?

Hajj. Thou? (_Pushing him to the stone._) Take thou my stone, my ancestral throne! Wrapped in my royal robes, hold it thine own! As for me, life calls. The day is mine to joy! And when the night falleth, Allah allowing, I shall hold mine enemy in the hollow of my hand! (_He strides off to the left, his purse on high, full daylight upon him._)

[CURTAIN]

Scene Ii. _The Suk (Bazaar Street) of the Tailors._

_A narrow street, arched over, with shops on both sides. Arches left and right. A large centre arch at the back leads off to other parts of the bazaar._

(NOTE.—_Much of the following action and dialogue occurs simultaneously, so as to produce a harmonious picture rather than separate impressions._)

_In a shop left sits ZAYD, a thin, conceited man of forty; he has with him a tiny little apprentice, who is here, there and everywhere. In the shop right (AMRU’S shop), a somewhat older apprentice is unpacking bales of stuff._

_It is early morning. The life of the street is awakening to the business of the day. As the curtain rises the shopkeepers are spreading out their wares. A SWEETMEAT-SELLER enters through the centre arch. He bows to a shopkeeper and passes on, squatting in the right corner, his back to the audience. His cry is_, “Ho! Ho! Swee-ts.” _FRUIT-GIRLS enter from the right and settle down in the left corner opposite him. Their cry is_ “Omani peaches, Osmani quinces! Sultani citrons! Li-mes!”

_TWO BEDOUINS appear and walk solemnly down the street. A CHINAMAN enters, followed by a little boy carrying fowls. The CHINAMAN goes to the SWEETMEAT-SELLER and points to the sweets with his fan._

Chinaman. (In a squeaky voice.) _This! This! This! How much?_

Sweetseller. _Three daniks._

Chinaman. _One! One! One!_

Sweetseller. _Two._

Chinaman. (Turning away to the left.) _One!_

Sweetseller. (Rises and goes after him.) _One and a half._

(_The CHINAMAN refuses to listen to him._)

Sweetseller. (Sitting down again.) _Hell swallow all foreign dogs!_

(_JAWAN enters at the central arch supported by his TWO SLAVES and passes down the street._)

(_The CHINAMAN goes to ZAYD’S shop._)

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. _Allah enlarge thee, O traveller from the land of China._

Chinaman. _Silk! Silk! Silk!_

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. _Here’s Persian silk, O my master! Rich, soft silk._

Chinaman. (Pulling it about). _No! China silk! China silk! This bad! Bad!_ (He walks away.)

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. (Shouts after him). _Out on thee, thou cat-faced infidel!_

(_A BOY with flowers comes and squats down near the fruit-girls. His cry is_:

“Jasmine and violets fine, Pomegranate bloom and eglantine.”)

(_AN OLD MAN with a donkey appears laden with jars of olive oil, stops at ZAYD’S shop and turns to the apprentice._)

THE OLD MAN (to the apprentice). _Here’s olive oil for thy master._

BOY. _Is the jar full?_

THE OLD MAN. _Full as the number of my years._

BOY. _Allah make them a thousand in number._

(_THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD struts majestically through the Suk. NASIR, the guide, enters, goes to ZAYD’S shop and bargains for a sash; tries it on, rolling himself into it and out of it as ZAYD holds one end of it._)

(_TWO COURTESANS appear in flimsy veils and gorgeous draperies. A YOUTH approaches them with a flower he has bought from the flower-boy._)

THE FIRST COURTESAN (to the Youth). _Fair befall thee, O Youth! Art thou from Baghdad? Art thou a stranger?_

THE YOUTH. _I am yours from wherever I am; a captive to the moon of your faces._

THE OTHER COURTESAN. _Thy glance is bright as the blade of a sword._

THE YOUTH. _And thy tongue sharper, no doubt!_

THE PORTER (with an immense bale on his head, to one of the Courtesans). _Must thou trip my heels, thou stinking armful?_

THE COURTESAN. _Out of my way, thou son of a burnt father._

AN OLD MAN (to a Young One). _Come out of this babel; I am sick from eating too much of the world._

THE YOUNG MAN. _Nay, I have only begun the feast—I am an-hungered. Look at this shop, O my father!_

A MERCHANT. _What wilt thou buy, O my brother? Silks? Kerchiefs? Girdles? Here’s all the earth gives birth to._

AN EGYPTIAN (with a little girl, to a boy selling beads.) _What manner of beads are these, O my son?_

THE BEAD-BOY. _Beads from Damascus! Beads of polished steel! Glass beads from Rhodes! Beads clear as crystal from the land of China, whiter than sea-pearls!_

THE EGYPTIAN (to his little girl.) _What shall I buy thee, O my Pigeon? These beads? Or those? Speak, O my Lotus!_

A MAN (to one of the fruit-sellers.) _Is thy fruit sweet, O my sister?_ (He takes up some fruit.)

The Fruit-Seller. _Pay first and taste after._

A MAN. _Thy fruit is over-ripe._

The Fruit-Seller. _’Tis fresh as the dawn-breeze._

THE MAN. _O my little tulip, how should I believe thee? Dost thou not belong to the universal sisterhood of woman?_

The Fruit-Seller. _All women are not alike; nor are the fingers of the hand alike._

THE SWEETMEAT-SELLER (crying.) _Swee-ts! Swee-ts! No better sweets in Baghdad. No better sweets in Baghdad. They are made by my cousin. He’s pastry-cook at the palace._

A BUYER. _Allah increase thee for a smooth-tongued liar!_

THE SWEETSELLER. _Taste my wares and ask my pardon!_

(_And so it goes. Cries and movement everywhere. The shopkeeper’s call to the passer-by is, “What dost thou want? Dost thou lack kerchiefs, shawls?” Greetings are heard such as, “I salute thee with my salaam! Allah increase thee, O my brother! A blessed day! Allah gladden thee with good news! The Bestower increase thee ever!” Porters plough their way through the crowd calling out, “Have patience, o ye people, have patience.” Compliments are heard such as, “Thou art like the moon on a fourteenth night! Thy body sways like a thirsting gazelle! Gifted by the Giver art thou! Thy beauty would make a palace dance!” And words of anger and impatience such as, “Begone and none of thine impudence! Be off! By Allah, this is not allowed! May Allah never bless thee! No friendly welcome to thee! Fie upon thee, ill-omened fellow!” The hubbub reaches its climax as a WATER-CARRIER enters, shouting loudly_, “Water! Water, coo-l and clea-r!” _He is stopped by two negro slaves, who buy cups of water from him. Then the WATER-CARRIER turns, as AMRU, a stout imposing merchant with a huge beard, comes down the street and approaches him. AMRU takes a cup. As he does so, ZAYD looks up from his shop in surprise and hurries out of it._)

Zayd. (_Surprised._) By mine eyes, Amru!

Amru. (_Delighted._) By mine eyes, Zayd!

(_They embrace, one arm being thrown round the shoulder, the other round the side, placing the chin first upon the left then upon the right collar bone and repeating this several times. As they embrace the crowd gradually disperses, leaving the street comparatively empty. But there is always a sense of life in the suk, and the hum of the bazaar is heard dimly throughout the scene._)

Zayd. Welcome and well come and good cheer to my friend, the dearly-beloved. So thou art home from Egypt? (_He motions him over to his shop._)

Amru. Yesternight in the first watch I caused my camels to kneel at my door.

Zayd. By Allah and his Apostle, it swells my heart to hear thy voice once more! Thou hast tarried many moons. Has thy business prospered?

(_The little apprentice has spread out cushions: they both sit._)

Amru. Fortune hath blessed me indeed. And thou? How is’t with thee?

Zayd. Alas! Traffic has grown dull with the new Caliph.

Amru. So soon? He hath been in power but seven days they tell me.

Zayd. He is very young—scarce sixteen,—and so devout! He was schooled in a monastery in the mountains. ’Tis said his harim is empty. Not a woman,—not as much as a wife.

Amru. Not so much as—and seven days! By the glories of Paradise to come! An I were Caliph for seven days!

Zayd. An I were Caliph for seven hours! But they say that he is waiting to find the woman of his dream, a maid of beauty all in all. Be she of noblest blood or poorest of the poor, he hath taken oath, until Allah reveal the chosen one, he will live alone,—unwed,—unwived.

(_Kettledrums are heard in the distance to the left.)_

(_AMRU returns to his shop at the right._)

(_The crowd hurries in from all sides. Men and women all kneel, bending low. As the CALIPH enters they touch their foreheads to the ground._)

(_Through the centre arch comes the Caliph’s procession, turning down and disappearing through the arch right. First come SIX ARCHERS OF THE GUARD with lances. Next follow FOUR MEN with KETTLEDRUMS (like tom-toms) and a pair of TRUMPETERS: then SIX ARCHERS with scymitars drawn, walking two and two. After that, DIGNITARIES of the royal household. Some singly, others in twos. These are: the Caliph’s slipper-bearer; his cloak-bearer; his cup-bearer; his ewer and basin-bearer; his bow-bearer; and his carpet-spreader. Next the two head EUNUCHS of his harim, both tall blackamoors clothed in yellow._)

(_After this, at an interval of five paces, on a white mule, the CALIPH himself, robed in the black of the Abbaside dynasty. His face is very youthful, full of spiritual beauty and weary pride. On his left cheek he has a mole. By his left side walks ABU BAKR, an old, white-bearded man, clothed in green and white, with a very large turband, holding his master’s left stirrup._)

(_As the CALIPH reaches the centre of the street, an old woman, KABIRAH, throws herself at his feet; the procession halts._)

KABIRAH. O King of the age—justice! Justice to an ancient widow and a sore oppressed! (_She holds out a petition._)

Caliph. (_Waving to ABU BAKR who takes the petition._) Come thou to my Diwan this mid-afternoon. None shall suffer wrong under this my sovereignty. The Judge of Judges be my witness. The Peace!

(_KABIRAH withdraws muttering “Heaven increase thee ever, O King.”_)

(_The procession moves on; the people in the street remaining crouched and motionless as the CALIPH passes them._)

(_A COURT DIGNITARY follows, scattering coin._)

(_SIX ARCHERS, with scymitars drawn, conclude the procession._)

(_Directly the CALIPH’S guard is out of sight there is a wild scramble for the royal largesse. The rabble then follows the procession._)

Zayd. (_To AMRU, shouting across to his shop._) Didst note the mole on his cheek? Is he not beautiful?

Amru. Allah bless him! And the old man?

Zayd. Abu Bakr, his tutor—a far famed grammarian. He entered the city with countless camel-loads of dictionaries. ’Tis he who ruleth the ruler.

Amru. Where’s Mansur—the old Caliph’s favourite? He was wont to ride by his master’s side. Hath he fallen from power?

Zayd. Nay, he’s still Chief of the Guards of the City and Wazir of the Police. But at the Palace they begin to whisper—(_Seeing MANSUR; in a low voice._) The Peace!—Mansur!

(_MANSUR appears, a tall, slim, sinister figure of about eight and twenty. His face shows traces of beauty ruined by debauchery; his manner is that of an expert in the sensualism of cruelty; his robes are of deep blue and steel. He is evidently nursing his rage, and strides along ominously. Behind him comes KAFUR, his sworder, a snake-like Ethiopian, by whose side hobbles a small hunchback scribe, AFIFE, who looks more like a pelican than a man._)

(_As MANSUR enters, a BLIND MAN crosses his path._)

THE BLIND MAN. Blind! Blind! Buy a blessing from the blind!

(_MANSUR annoyed at the BLIND MAN’S fumbling, strikes him down and passes on. The BLIND MAN gets up again, helped by two of the courtesans. ZAYD gives him a coin or two, and he goes on his way._)

Zayd. (_To AMRU._) Didst mark his rage? He, the favourite of yesterday, to-day must walk second to the grammarian. The splitter of lives bow to the splitter of syllables. Ha! Ha!

(_HAJJ appears in the centre archway. He is still in rags. He comes down to ZAYD._)

Zayd. (_Putting him off as he would a beggar._) Heaven will provide, O brother.

(_HAJJ crosses to AMRU._)

Amru. (_In the same tone as ZAYD._) Allah will provide.

Hajj. Nay, I am no beggar.

ZAYD and AMRU. What art thou then?

Hajj. I am a religious mendicant. My vow of poverty has been accomplished in the hour. I am on my way to the hammam to re-enter daily life.

Zayd. O father of rags, thou art strangely like to a beggar before the Carpenter’s Mosque.

Hajj. So I have been told. The sooner therefore I strip me of his likeness, the better for both of us. What hast thou in the manner of cloaks and shirts and turband-cloths? (_He clinks the purse ominously._)

(_ZAYD and AMRU hurry forward, each bringing a cushion for HAJJ to sit on. They spread a big square of stuff before him on which they display their goods._)

(_HAJJ sits down with great satisfaction._)

Zayd. All colours, O my master.

Amru. All kinds, O my master.

Hajj. (_With a delighted smile, pleased at the epithet._) Master! (_He chinks his purse._)

Zayd. Why dost thou smile?

Hajj. ’Tis nought! A memory! Show me thy wares.

Amru. Thou’lt see mine too, O my lord?

Hajj. (_Turning to AMRU, as above._) Lord!—Thine too,—O my—my tailor. (_Pointing to some veils in AMRU’S hands._) What’s this?

Zayd. (_Spreading out a cloak eagerly._) Thy cloak, O my master.

Hajj. (_To ZAYD, putting him off._) A moment. (_To AMRU._) Face veils?

Amru. (_Spreading out a veil._) After the fashion of Egypt. Woven air!

Hajj. (_Taking up the veil._) A veil! Hast thou anklets?

Amru. Here are jewels none hath set eyes on in Baghdad. (_He opens a little casket._)

Zayd. (_Jealously, calling across._) O my lord,—thy cloak.

Amru. (_To ZAYD, annoyed._) Trouble not my master.

Hajj. (_Taking up the anklets and veil._) How much?

Amru. Seven dinars.

Hajj. Thou art mad! (_He turns to ZAYD._) Thy cloak!

Amru. (_Eagerly._) How much wilt thou offer?

Hajj. (_Ignoring AMRU._) Allah, this is workmanship!

Amru. (_As above._) Six dinars and a half.

Hajj. (_To ZAYD._) Who’s the designer of this?

Zayd. ’Tis I.

Amru. (_Quickly to HAJJ, waving the scarf and anklets._) Six.

Hajj. (_Turning to AMRU._) Three! And ’tis more than paid.

Amru. The anklets alone cost me four.

Zayd. (_To HAJJ._) Thou’lt have the cloak?

Hajj. How much?

Zayd. Twenty-five dinars.

Hajj. Twenty-five! (_He turns abruptly to AMRU._) Three dinars.

Zayd. Twenty-four and a half!

Amru. Four dinars and I lose. By the life of my father, I swear it.

Hajj. Four an thou wrappest them up in one of thy kerchiefs.

Amru. ’Tis beyond my yielding. (_He takes his veils away._)

Hajj. (_Turning to ZAYD._) Hast thou veils? (_AMRU eyes HAJJ eagerly._)

Zayd. The best in Baghdad. Thou’lt have the cloak?

Hajj. I’ll see others first. Put it there. (_He points to the kerchief spread out before him._) Thy veils!

Amru. Hold! Thou shalt have thy veil and kerchief. But I swear——

Hajj. (_Turning to AMRU._) Swear not! (_Counts out the money._) Four! Thou hast begun the day too well. What shirt is this? (_He takes it up._) And yon trousers and girdle? (_Pointing to some trousers and a girdle ZAYD’S apprentice is holding up._)

(_The GUIDE NASIR enters at the back, sees HAJJ and watches him unobserved, with cat-like glances, leaning against ZAYD’S shop. ZAYD hands HAJJ the trousers and girdle._)

Amru. (_Shouting._) First see this girdle of mine.

Hajj. Now which of ye twain hath a turband-cloth to my heart?

Zayd. (_Unrolling one._) O master, ’tis I.

Amru. (_Unrolling another._) O master, ’tis me.

Zayd. I!

Amru. Me!

Hajj. The master asked both. (_Pointing to AMRU’S cloth, squinting at ZAYD out of the corner of his eye._) His cloth far excelleth thine.

Zayd. (_Furious._) His cloth excel mine? Yon meagre tracery crawling along the edge as a dying dog to a puddle,—that excel my glorious branching and bowing of pomegranates?

Amru. Dying dog, indeed! Dying dog thyself.

Zayd. By Allah, hold thy peace, O brother.

Hajj. (_To ZAYD inciting him._) How? Let him call thee dog?

Zayd. (_Springing up._) Called he me dog? Didst thou call me dog, O dog?

Amru. (_Conciliating him, still on his knees._) Enough, O Zayd. Words poison.

Hajj. (_To AMRU, in a whisper._) What? Kneel to a slave, dost thou?

Amru. Yehh! Thou art right. (_Rising and facing ZAYD._) Yes, I—I call thee dog.

Zayd. Thou shall eat thy words. (_He crosses to AMRU._)

Amru. And thou thy pomegranates. (_They fall to blows._)

(_HAJJ quickly gathers the clothes he picked out, wraps the large cloth about them and hurries off by the arch, left. NASIR has watched HAJJ and follows him off. THE MERCHANTS AND APPRENTICES hurry out of the shops._)

VARIOUS MEN. Ho, Masters! Ho, masters! Help! They’re fighting! They’ll have their swords out. Ho, Moslems! Ho Captain! Help!

(_Several of the shopmen and passers-by crowd round, chattering and screaming, trying to separate the two men. Different ones shout: “O AMRU! O Brothers! Where’s the Syndic? O ZAYD! For the love of Allah! Are ye not sons of Islam both?” etc._)

(_The CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH hurries in by the centre arch. The two men are separated by him._)

Captain. O Zayd! O Amru! Shame upon ye! How now? Are ye donkey-boys?

Amru. O Captain! Heaven knoweth we were ever the best of friends.

Zayd. Ever till this hour.

Captain. Who began it?

Zayd. ’Twas my lord here who said—(_He points to HAJJ’S empty cushion; stops and stares amazed._) Where is my lord? (_He looks about bewildered._) Yehh! Gone! Gone and the clothes with him.

Amru. O, the bazaar devil! ’Twas _he_ that set us on.

Zayd. After him. Which way went he?

A MAN. This way. (_He points to the arch left._)

(_The crowd, headed by ZAYD, starts to run off to the left._)

ANOTHER MAN. (_Pointing up to the centre arch._) This way!

(_The crowd veers and starts off to the back._)

STILL ANOTHER MAN. (_Pointing to the right._) This way! (_They all swing to the right._)

(_NASIR re-enters from the left arch eagerly._)

Nasir. (_At the top of his voice._) No, that way. I know the dog well. ’Tis Hajj—the beggar!

(_General hubbub as ALL run off to the left, shouting and gesticulating._)

THE SWEETMEAT-SELLER. (_Rising and putting his tray of sweets on his head goes slowly down the street, shouting._) Ho! Ho! Swee—ts!

[CURTAIN]

SCENE III. _The Courtyard of a poor House._

_In the right wall a large double door leads out to the street. An arch, which supports the upper part of the house, runs parallel to the wall at the right, thus screening the court from the street. At the back, a door leads into the inner house. Two cages with a bird in each, are hanging on the wall right. The left side of the court is taken up by a wall about seven feet high, a niche in its centre containing a well with ropes, buckets and a large jar or two. Over the wall can be seen some cypresses of a garden. In the shadow of this wall, a rose tree grows in a rim of masonry. An awning is stretched across the Court. A tom-tom stands in one corner._

_The full morning sun over everything._

_MARSINAH, a beautiful girl of fourteen summers (which would correspond to a girl of eighteen in the west) is seated on some rough matting, in the centre of the court. She is clad in the simplest fashion, like the poorest Arabian women. She is busy with some needlework on a large embroidery frame, which rests on four legs like a low table._

_Near her, idly fanning away the flies, sits NARJIS, a stout, old Duenna, with a full-blown face. About them on the matting lie strands of different coloured wools._

Marsinah. (_Looking up to the garden wall._) The sun grows hot.

Narjis. How’s thy border? Will it be done by noon-prayer? I promised it the merchant.

Marsinah. (_Impatiently sighing._) I hear, O Narjis, I hear. Hast thou any yellow wool?

Narjis. (_Turns away from Marsinah to look for it._) Yellow? Yellow? Did I not give it thee erstwhile?

Marsinah. (_Quickly takes the yellow wool and hides it under the folds of her dress._) ’Twas red thou gavest me.

Narjis. By the life of thy youth, O Marsinah, ’twas yellow. (_She rises and searches._)

Marsinah. Look thyself. Thou seest I lack it to finish the pattern.

Narjis. Alas! (_Sighs._) What’s to be done? What’s to be done?

(_She sits despondently on the rim of the well._)

Marsinah. Run to the wool market, O good Narjis.

Narjis. All the way to the wool market?

Marsinah. ’Tis none so far for one so sprightly as thou, O sweet Narjis. Thou didst promise it the merchant—remember!

Narjis. I could have laid an oath with the All-seeing there was yet another strand of yellow.

Marsinah. (_Tucking away a tell-tale thread._) Couldst thou in sooth?

Narjis. Well-a-day! There’s nought for me but to go. We must finish the work or the money’s lost.

(_She crosses to the large double door and takes down a huge iron door key, which hangs on the wall beside the door._)

And O Marsinah! No looking out of windows or peeping over walls.

Marsinah. By Lady Fatimah’s life of light! What dost thou suppose?

Narjis. Think of thy father. Thou knowest how he fears for thy safety. Was not his first wife stolen? His son slaughtered? Art thou not the last of his race? Is not thine own mother in the tomb of eternity? I tell thee, should one folly on thy part reach thy father’s ears, ’twere the undoing of us both.

Marsinah. Fear nought, O dear Narjis.

(_NARJIS has let herself out and locked the door outside._)

(_MARSINAH rises, and listens at the door. Then she hurries to the rim of the masonry by the well, gets up on it and peers over the wall. With a little cry of delight she exclaims “Waiting! Waiting!” Then claps her left palm with her right hand twice. She listens,—then claps again. Some one answers the signal in the same manner. She draws her veil across her face instinctively and stands expectant._)

(_A youth appears over the masonry. In a moment he is down and in her arms. By his mole he is seen to be the young CALIPH ABDALLAH,—but he is now dressed in the simple clothes of an artisan._)

Caliph. O my beloved! At last!

Marsinah. Dost thou still love me, O my master.

Caliph. Still?

(_He draws away her veil and kisses her between the eyes._)

All my soul lieth between thine eyes! All my longing on thine untouched lips. Still love thee?

Marsinah. How can man love maid who unveileth her face as I have to thee?

Caliph. How can man not love?

Marsinah. (_Veiling herself again._) I am ashamed at my shamelessness.

Caliph. Sooner be thou ashamed of mine. ’Twas I that climbed the wall, broke in on thee to tear the cloud from the new moon.

(_He raises the veil from her face._)

Marsinah. I swear were to-day three days agone, and thou imploring me now, by thine eyes, I’d not betray my secrecy again.

Caliph. What! Is thy love grown faint so soon?

Marsinah. Allah help me, strong so soon. I am become a thousand times more watchful, more jealous of myself, and all because of thee. Alas! How must honour like thine judge of frailty like mine?

Caliph. (_Passionately._) Mine honour judges as it judged the first moment of seeing thee: that thou art my love, that I hold thy little hands in mine, and that thou shalt be my wife—none other before thee.

(_Drawing her towards him._)

Marsinah. (_Sinking at his feet._) O my loved one; this is a dream of thine. Think of thy parents. What will they say? What wilt thou tell them?

Caliph. (_He sits by her on the ground._) What? That I looked out from my father’s pavilion one blessed evening and saw thee feeding thy little birds at yon window. That I gazed on thy white wrists long—long. What more need I say. (_He is about to kiss her wrists._)

Marsinah. (_Withdrawing them playfully._) My wrists! Hath my face no say in thy loving?

Caliph. Thy face! The Forgiver forgive thee. Since I beheld its light, my nights are sleepless; my days burning sands. This stolen moment alone my shade, thy hair my breeze, thy voice my fountain.

Marsinah. (_Drawing away._) O my love, leave me; forget me utterly. Thy mother will never choose me thy bride. Is thy father not far, far above my father? Did’st thou not say he was the Caliph’s gardener?

Caliph. Is the Caliph’s gardener such a mighty man?

Marsinah. Narjis says he is.

Caliph. (_Secretly annoyed._) Narjis—the old woman?

Marsinah. Yea, and she says more. I asked her in a light way—O very lightly—had she e’er heard spoken of the gardener’s son. And she—the fool—she swears he never had a son; that his only wife is dead these many years; that the garden next door hath been leased by a grammarian, the new Caliph’s tutor; that once even the Caliph himself came to walk there in the cool of the day.

Caliph. (_Curtly._) Narjis is an old gossip. She knows not what she chatters.

Marsinah. So I told her. But she said, “On with thy work, O thou daughter of ignorance.” Then I began to laugh, thinking of thee, and flung out a line of a song, till her forehead swelled with rage and she beat me.

Caliph. (_Furiously._) She beat thee?

Marsinah. O ’tis naught. She does so often.

Caliph. The sister of Satan!

Marsinah. What would’st thou! She’s not my mother.

Caliph. (_Tenderly._) O my Marsinah! Has this been thy life? Is thy mother gone long?

Marsinah. Three years ’tis now since she entered into the mercy of Allah! Alas! Those were different days. What I did for my mother I did in delight. What I learnt from her, I learnt with a dancing heart. All her songs, the plucking of the lute she taught me—as ’twere so much laughter. In her hour, ere my father took her to wife, she had been the slave of a rich merchant. The cunningest teachers in Baghdad had taught her. When the merchant gave her her freedom, she was besought to sing at all the rarest feasts. Then Allah took her voice and evil nights fell upon her. Thus my father found her, outcast and starving. Such was my mother.

(_A short silence._)

Caliph. Thou did’st not tell me that thou could’st play, that thou could’st sing! What fresh perfection do I find in thee every moment!

Marsinah. ’Tis all my mother in me.

Caliph. ’Tis all thyself in thee. Blessed be He that fashioned thee in thy splendour of beauty. Thy face is fairer than health; thine eyes are the eyes of a gazelle; thy lips a cluster of coral; like a silver column is thy neck: and thy breasts, pomegranates in their glory. O, my beloved, when will come the hour that I shall hold thee close to my heart, while the night hangeth her silver lamp over our silence.

Marsinah. (_In a whisper._) When Allah willeth—and Allah will it soon.

(_Their lips meet in a kiss._)

Caliph. (_Rises to his knees with sudden passion._) It shall be this night.

Marsinah. O, sweet my lord, I have told thee before, it cannot be. Not at night. Narjis is ever here, and ofttimes my father. My only freedom is a morn like to-day’s.

Caliph. (_Drawing close to her._) Thou shalt have other freedom undreamt of by thee.

Marsinah. What wilt thou do?

Caliph. Can’st thou trust me?

Marsinah. With all my soul, an thou put not thy life in danger.

Caliph. Dost thou love me so?

Marsinah. (_Hanging her head._) Sooner would I lose thee for ever.

Caliph. (_After a pause, with a smile she does not observe._) Fear naught.

Marsinah. What is’t? Nothing to harm thee?

Caliph. (_Cheek to cheek._) Thou’lt see! When the evening prayer hath locked the door of the day, then will I come to open the eyes of thy heart.

This joy must yield to deeper joy its power; As bud still rends its veil, to blush as flower.

Marsinah. (_Improvising._)

Ah me! How oft the foolish petal’s haste Is scattered to the skies by fatal shower.

Caliph. (_Turning surprised—joyously._) Yehh! Can’st cap verses too? By Allah! What is this Wonder of wonders, that the Giver of all things good——

Marsinah. (_Rises, interrupting him._) Awah!

Caliph. Nothing.

Marsinah. It is. Fly, O my beloved.

Caliph. (_Rises._) How can I leave my soul behind and not die? (_He goes up to the rim of the well._)

Marsinah. Go, I implore thee! By all that’s holy! Here! (_She plucks a rose from the bush, kisses it, and hands it to him._) Go!

(_The CALIPH presses the rose to his lips, then slips it into his breast and climbs over the wall._)

Caliph. (_From the top of the wall._) After set of sun! (_He disappears over the wall._)

Narjis. (_Outside._) Marsinah! Marsinah!

(_MARSINAH hurries to her work, sits and stitches furiously._)

Narjis. (_Entering the courtyard._) A gift of good news, O my roe. Thy father is coming.

Marsinah. My father? Never yet came he home during the day.

Narjis. Never yet. But to-day he cometh. I saw him leaving the hammam-bath, unlike himself—in robes of splendour, his locks combed, his beard trimmed, and (_imitating him_) striding along as proud and calm as a camel! I hasted ahead through the alleys. Had he found thee alone—— (_There is a knock on the door._) By the Prophet! None too soon. (_Calling out._) I come! I come! (_Goes to the door and calls through it._) Who art thou? What seekest thou? (_She winks at MARSINAH and feigns surprise._) Allah! ’tis my master. O Marsinah! Thy father, as I am awake! (_She unlocks the door._)

(_MARSINAH has risen; drawing her veil about the back of her head._)

(_HAJJ enters as described, wearing all his stolen robes, his beard neatly trimmed, his whole being refreshed by the bath. His manner is far more self-assured. He carries his little bundle of presents for his daughter, which he flings to the ground._)

Marsinah. Salam, O my father.

Narjis. Salam, O my master.

Hajj. Salam.

(_All sit, HAJJ between the two women._)

Marsinah. Thou smellest so sweet; is it musk?

Hajj. I have lain in the hammam all morning.

Marsinah. May thy bath profit thee, O my father. What blessed coming is thine?

Hajj. Thou mayst indeed call it blessed. For verily the Dispeller of woe hath turned the murk of my night into a day of light and delight. What say ye to this. (_He takes out his purse._) Gold! Gold! Gold! What a sound it is! It chinks straight into the blood and sets the heart a-beating, so the temples throb and reason flies from the head. Dost thou mark it, O Marsinah. O Narjis, dost thou?

Marsinah. (_Clapping her hands._) Yehh!

Narjis. (_Suspicious._) Whence hadst thou this?

Hajj. Whence? (_His brow clouds._) Whence? From a fool in his folly! An accursed for whom it shall weave the rope round his neck. But that’s for later. (_Chinking the purse._) This for now. (_He slips the purse in his breast._) Ha! Ha! Ha! O eyes of me! Ye should have beheld them in the hammam—the bath-keeper and his slaveboys. How they bowed before me—one and all. “O my master” here, and “O my lord” there. And such rinsings, and rubbings, and clappings, till my limbs rang aloud with smoothness! Then they laid me adown on silken sheets, the while censers fumed me sweetly from head to heel. And the bath-keeper knelt at my feet, and sung to the tom-tom a song. (_He sings, imitating the playing of a tom-tom with his hands._)

A bowl of wine! Two bowls of wine! And three more bowls and that makes nine!

(_He draws out the purse and flings it in the air with a shout, catching it again._)

Marsinah. (_Clapping her hands gleefully and rising to her knees._) O my father! Thou art magnificent!

Hajj. (_Delighted._) Magnificent—am I?

Marsinah. Yea! Even as a prince in one of the tales thou tellest.

Hajj. A Prince! (_He strokes his moustachios._) A King?

Marsinah. A King, in truth, a King! Is he not, O Narjis?

Narjis. (_Ironically._) A King, in very sooth.

Marsinah. Never beheld I thee thus. Never till this hour. White as milk is this day of mine.

Hajj. It shall be whiter still, O my dainty. Give me the bundle, O Narjis. Thou shalt bless the day indeed, O my rose. (_Opening the bundle._) Ah! Now thine eyes glisten. Now!

Marsinah. Thou didst remember me?

Hajj. Remember thee? What doth thy soul most desire in this world? Speak.

Marsinah. Most? (_She glances unconsciously up over the garden wall, but looks down again quickly._)

Hajj. Ah, now thou blushest. What is it?

Marsinah. (_Confused._) I—know—not.

Hajj. (_Imitating._) “I know not.” O Narjis, was ever maid such maid. She knows not. By Allah, thou hast guarded her well. She is as simple as the hour she was born. “I know not.” (_He fondles MARSINAH’S cheek._)

Marsinah. (_Hanging her head._) What should I know?

(_HAJJ and NARJIS look at each other smiling knowingly._)

Hajj. Thou shouldest know that thy father loves thee! (_He kisses her on both eyes._) And that he has brought thee these. (_He produces the anklets from the bundle._)

Marsinah. Anklets! (_She flings off her slippers laughing gleefully and puts on the anklets._) O Narjis! O Narjis! At last! Now! What girl in our street can laugh at me now? (_Rises and circles about the two._) Look, O Narjis, look! Jamilah, or Mubarakah, or any of them. O my master, I kiss thy feet. (_She kneels before HAJJ and bows down._)

Hajj. (_Laying his hand on her head._) Thou art content?

Marsinah. (_Blissfully._) Content? Content?

Hajj. Then what sayst thou to a veil? (_He unfolds the veil._)

Marsinah. (_Springs up, then bashfully—overcome._) For me—too? (_HAJJ hands it to her smilingly._) (_In rapture, holding it up; unconsciously looking up to the garden wall._) Oh! would I had had it this morn!

Hajj. This morn! What dost thou mean?

Marsinah. (_Realising her self-betrayal._) I mean—I know not. My heart is so happy. La Yayhá! Do I fill thine eyes, O my father? (_She drapes the veil about her._)

Hajj. (_Smiling proudly._) Fill mine eyes! Go! Fetch thy lute! We will have music. This day shall be a day of rejoicing.

Marsinah. (_Going._) I hear and I obey. (_She hurries off across the courtyard into the house._)

Hajj. (_Looking after her._) By Allah! How she glides swimmingly as she were a lily floating down the Tigris. Blessed indeed is he that taketh her to wife.

Narjis. Aye, and she’s ripe to wed, too.

Hajj. Fourteen! The pick of years! I must seek her a husband.

Narjis. (_Huddles up to him._) What sayst thou to the basket-weaver’s son at the corner?

Hajj. The basket-weaver’s son? O thou hag! (_Slaps her cheek with the back of his hand._) Why not a bean-seller? (_Slap._) Or a camel-boy? (_Slap._) Yea, or best and rarest, some blear-eyed mangy beggar? (_Slap._)

(_MARSINAH appears with a lute._)

Hajj. (_To NARJIS._) Behold her now! I swear the very movement of her limbs maketh melody.

Marsinah. What shall I sing thee, O my father? (_She stands tuning her instrument._)

Hajj. How many modes canst thou play in?

Marsinah. One-and-twenty.

Hajj. One-and-twenty. (_To NARJIS._) Are one-and-twenty modes for the basket-weaver’s son? (_He slaps NARJIS again. To MARSINAH._) And sing how many?

Marsinah. The like number.

Hajj. And dance? How many steps did thy mother teach thee?

Marsinah. Far beyond counting.

Hajj. (_To NARJIS._) Thou hearest! Are they, the countless, for the basket-weaver’s son? (_A final slap._) I tell thee, Marsinah is rare as a houri in Paradise. Wouldst thou know what secret the future hideth for Marsinah?

Narjis. (_Rubbing her poor cheek._) What secret, O master?

Hajj. Sit thee down here, O my flower. And here thou, O my cactus. Mark me close, ye both. (_MARSINAH sits on the ground by HAJJ._)

Hajj. (_Drawing the purse from his breast._) This money in my bosom will I take and buy merchandise withal. (_Tossing the purse from hand to hand; his voice in lyrical exaltation._) And I will trade and sell; and buy and trade; till it is doubled and trebled a hundred times hundredfold. Then shall I turn from toil and trouble, to clothe my Marsinah in a rope of pearls serene; with the crown of a queen on her forehead clear; two jewels of shine and sheen, pending o’er each ear,—here and there; on her breast will I set a ruby amulet of flash and fret; and stuffed within a priceless piece of ambergris.

Marsinah. (_In wonder._) O my father!

Hajj. And the name of thy beauty shall be blown abroad, beyond Arabia, through Sind, into China, even as far as the islands of Wak. And suitors shall venture across deserts and sea, by caravel and camel, and fall on their knee in suppliance for thee.

Marsinah. Yehh!

Hajj. But I—thy sire, (_leaning on NARJIS lazily as though she were a feather bed._)—shall lie back on pillows of ostrich plumes, propping mine elbow thus, nor turning to right nor to left. And there shall be wailings and gnashings of teeth amongst thy lovers; the while thou, behind many lintels, in a court of marble with a roof of molten gold, dancest merrily, airily, to the sound of smitten strings.

Marsinah. (_Laughing joyfully and clapping her hands._) Ya ha! Ya ha!

Hajj. (_Triumphantly._) Ha! Ha! (_Eagerly._) Dance now, O dawn-breeze, now! O Narjis, pluck a tune with thy talons. (_Hands her the lute._) Up, O Marsinah, up! My tom-tom, O Narjis! My tom-tom!

(_MARSINAH springs up. She begins to dance slowly, then faster and faster. NARJIS, after handing HAJJ his tom-tom, plays and occasionally sings as well._)

Hajj. (_Beating the tom-tom, shrilly._) Yehh! Allah! La Yayhá! La Yayhá! So shalt thou dance! So! And the kings of the earth shall send their sons! La Yayhá! By thy youth, thou art as a branch swaying! La Yayhá! But I shall laugh them to scorn, all and one—“Ye swine,” shall I say— “Ye——”

(_There is a knock at the door._)

(_MARSINAH stops; so does NARJIS._)

Hajj. Nought. Neighbours. On! (_They begin again._)

Hajj. “Ye swine—who are ye to——”

(_Another knock._)

A VOICE. (_Outside._) Open in the name of justice.

Hajj. (_Instinctively looks at his garments._) Wah! Go indoors, O my delight, go! (_He throws the bundle to MARSINAH._)

(_MARSINAH, taking the bundle, goes into the house wondering._)

Hajj. (_To NARJIS._) Open! Open! Open! (_NARJIS opens the house door._)

(_HAJJ sits expectant, tracing figures in the sand with his finger-tips._)

(_The CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH enters—behind him come ZAYD and AMRU and FOUR ARCHERS. THE ARCHERS fling open the double doors to the street and guard them. NASIR enters as well._)

Captain. Is this the house of Hajj, the beggar?

Hajj. What would ye?

Zayd. I knew ’twas he! Seize the dog!

Hajj. Seize me? (_He rises abruptly._)

Zayd. Those are the very garments.

Captain. Thou must come before the Wazir Mansur.

Hajj. (_Terrified at the name._) Mansur? I paid in part—I meant to pay in full.

Amru. Thou liest, O split of tongue.

Hajj. Lie? I? (_He goes for AMRU._)

(_TWO ARCHERS secure HAJJ between them._)

Captain. No words! Off with him.

(_THE ARCHERS march HAJJ to the door._)

Nasir. (_Darting forward and grinning into HAJJ’S face._) Ha! Ha!

Hajj. (_Stopping as he sees NASIR._) Oh! Thou!

Nasir. (_Mockingly imitating HAJJ’S voice._) I saw no purse.

Hajj. (_Spitting in NASIR’S face._) Thou filth! Thou son of filth.

(_He is led off, the other men following._)

Narjis. (_Wringing her hands._) Allah! Allah! Allah!

[CURTAIN]

SCENE IV. _A Hall in the Wazir Mansur’s Mansion._

_The room is a large oblong one, with a colonnade running along the back, looking out on a colonnaded courtyard beyond. A large double door to the left leads to the entrance hall. Opposite it, in the right wall, a niche with a diwan, raised a step or two. The tiles and carvings are of the richest._

_MANSUR is seated on the diwan, before him a chessboard._

_AFIFE is crouching to the right on the steps, his partner in the game._

_KAFUR stands behind them watching._

_MANSUR is in a sullen humour, his mind not on the game._

Afife. (_Making a move, in a high squeaky voice._) Move, O master.

Mansur. (_Moving a chess-man._) Now match me this move, O thou bundle of misery.

Afife. Match it? (_He moves._) Thy turn, O my master.

Mansur. (_Moving again._) So!

Afife. Check!

Mansur. Check? Now cursed be Satan the Stoned! What Ifrit is at thine elbow? This is the third game thou dost beat me.

Afife. Thy thoughts wander, O my Lord.

Mansur. Dost thou wonder they wander, o thou misbegotten lump of dough?—Wander? They gallop, they fly! Even though I myself must crawl at other men’s heels these days.

Kafur. (_To MANSUR._) There’s yet one more move for thee.

Mansur. (_Studying the board._) One more?

Kafur. So! (_He sweeps the chessboard clear with his sword._)

(_The door opens and an ATTENDANT enters._)

Attendant. A Chamberlain from the Caliph, O my lord.

Mansur. Admit him.

(_The ATTENDANT ushers in the CHAMBERLAIN from the CALIPH who enters with a sealed scroll. He comes up to MANSUR and bows._)

Chamberlain. From the Commander of the Faithful to his Wazir Mansur.

(_KAFUR turns and takes the letter from the CHAMBERLAIN and hands it to MANSUR. MANSUR rises and takes the letter, touches the top of his head with it, then breaks the seals and scans the contents. His lips contract. After a moment’s pause he says to the CHAMBERLAIN._)

Mansur. Harkening and obedience to the Prince of True Believers.

(_The CHAMBERLAIN bows and retires as he came._)

Mansur. (_Springing up with great rage._) Hear! Hear! (_Reading from right to left._) “In the name of Allah, the Compassionating the Compassionate. From Abdallah, Caliph and King of Mankind to his Wazir of Police. But after. We find all the moneys of our various departments of state, complete and in account, saving those under thy control. Report thou to us accordingly at our diwan this day. Though mine uncle the King be dead, justice and order have not died with him.” (_He tears the letter to bits, stuffs strips into his mouth, chews them and spits them out again._) Wah! Now Allah damn the grammarian for this! This is _his_ handiwork, big-turban’d, bean-fed son of a sow! So I’m to end through _him_? I who sat in his seat, hard by the side of the throne. By all devils that kneel round hell, I swear this shall never be—do ye hear me?—no, never! (_He strikes at AFIFE in his rage._)

Kafur. What wilt thou do, O my lord?

Mansur. I would I had him between my feet to rip the tongue from his teeth.

Afife. A hundred grammatical tongues will not bring back one danik of the moneys thou hast squandered.

Mansur. Justice and order! (_He spits out a piece of the letter._) Pah! Show me the Wazir of Police who hath crushed with a heavier hand, whose sword made the execution ground as slippery. Recall ye not the merry summer’s night when with mine own hand, in ten waves of the scymitar, I carved my old jester into as many pieces?

Afife. The old jester! Ha! Ha! ’Twas his last quirk!

Kafur. How we laughed!

(_THEY all laugh._)

Mansur. Alas for the glorious drunken nights of passion and power. The feasts of beauty and blood! Awah, awah, awah!

(_THEY all sigh._)

Afife. What’s to be done?

Kafur. Were Prince Omar Caliph, never wouldst thou have lost thy seat of honour.

Afife. Higher titles would have been thine. He loves thee as a brother.

Kafur. He would have created thee Grand Wazir.

Afife. Yea, Grand Wazir of all the kingdom!

Mansur. Were! Would! Had! The Caliph’s the Is! His letter the thing alive! The spent moneys must be accounted for. ’Tis my death. Awah! Awah!

Kafur. The guards are yet under thy orders.

Mansur. For the moment. But to-night——

Afife. Use to-day.

Kafur. (_Pointing to the chessboard._) One move—and the game is thine.

Mansur. (_Realising KAFUR’S intention._) Yehh! Kill the Caliph? (_He rises in thought._)

(_KAFUR and AFIFE nod and follow him, standing on either side of him._)

Kafur. ’Tis he——

Afife. Or thou.

Mansur. (_Looking from AFIFE to KAFUR._) Yehh! But how? When? Who? (_Turning to AFIFE._) Thou?

Afife. (_Grovelling at MANSUR’S feet._) Alas! I lack the strength.

Mansur. (_Turning to KAFUR._) Thou?

Kafur. (_Falling on his knees._) Am I not known by every servant in the palace?

Mansur. Then where shall I find him? This fellow strong enough, unknown enough, to stab and stab to the soul?

Kafur. Fear not. Fate hath written the deed in the lines of someone’s forehead. And when the hour comes he will be ready.

Mansur. Yehh!

(_The door opens and the ATTENDANT enters and bows. Outside voices can be heard._)

Mansur. What noise is that?

Attendant. Some merchants in the hall, O my lord. They have caught a thief and come for justice.

Mansur. Justice—do they? Justice! By Allah! I’ll dispense them justice. Have them enter. (_He goes back to the diwan and sits._)

(_KAFUR and AFIFE take their wonted positions by his side._)

(_The two shopkeepers, AMRU and ZAYD, enter, after them NASIR, the CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH and FOUR ARCHERS. A crowd of loiterers (six or eight) follow, who kneel or stand in the background. AMRU and ZAYD approach and kneel. TWO NEGRO EUNUCHS enter and stand at the back._)

Amru. O Wazir of the Age, we come for protection against the roguery of mankind.

Zayd. O eye of uprightness! Let thy light shed judgment.

Mansur. Speak your grievance.

Amru. There came a man to my shop——

Zayd. And mine——

Amru. And he fanned a quarrel ’twixt me and my fondest friend.

Zayd. And meantime off he stole with garments of both of us.

Mansur. Where’s the thief?

(_HAJJ is brought through the door by TWO ARCHERS and prostrates himself before MANSUR, the ARCHERS retiring._)

Hajj. (_With great saintliness, on his knees._) O Wazir of wazirs, O Wisdom of wisdom, O Clemency of clemencies! I seek refuge in thy sanctity from these my foul-mouthed defamers. A thief—I? Allah forfend. I am a man of religion and peace. They fell to fisticuffs and curses before me, these two,—till mine ears were stung with their ungodliness and mine eyes wounded. So I laid my moneys on the carpet of the shop and went my silent ways.

ZAYD and AMRU. (_Together._) Liar!

Amru. We’d not so much as fixed on a price.

Hajj. Wilt thou swear I paid thee no earnest money?

Amru. A miserable dinar or two to blind me.

Hajj. Blind thee? What cause had I to blind thee?

Zayd. Thou art a well-known beggar.

Hajj. A beggar? Showed I thee not a swollen purse?

Zayd. A stolen purse—thou meanest.

Hajj. He lies, O my lord. ’Twas given me in charity.

Mansur. Given thee? By whom?

Hajj. By one Jawan—a highwayman.

Mansur. A highwayman do charity? Now Allah pardon thee. Tell the truth.

Hajj. May doomsday break if I lie.

Mansur. How? A highwayman here in Baghdad? An exile with a price on his neck? Thou art mad.

Hajj. By mine honesty! There stands his guide Nasir. Ask him.

Mansur. (_To NASIR._) O thou! Is this so?

Nasir. (_Coming forward and kneeling between HAJJ and the merchants._) ’Tis true such an one lodges at my Khan, O my lord. But he is come to the city in repentance, to pray at the tombs of saints.

Mansur. (_Furious._) Saints and repentance! His coming spits at the law! (_To the CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH._) Go with yon fellow. Find the highwayman. Take him to the royal diwan this mid-afternoon. The Caliph shall note how I uphold justice and order.

(_The CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH moves to the door with TWO ARCHERS._)

Hajj. (_Interrupting._) O my lord, a word! (_To NASIR._) Tell the Lord Wazir, thou sawest the Sheikh throw me a purse.

Nasir. (_Copying HAJJ’S manner in the first scene._) I?—I saw no purse.

Hajj. (_Producing the purse; pleading to him._) Nasir! Here it is.

Nasir. I saw no purse.

Mansur. ’Tis well. Off!

(_NASIR goes with the CAPTAIN and ARCHERS._)

Mansur. (_To HAJJ._) As for thee—Give me the purse!

Hajj. Awah! (_He hands the purse to KAFUR, who hands it to MANSUR._)

Mansur. (_Pocketing the purse in his sleeve._) Thou art a liar and a thief. (_To KAFUR._) The sword and the cauldron of oil. (_KAFUR bows and motions to the NEGROES who go off into the courtyard._)

Mansur. Thy right hand is forfeit to the merchants.

Hajj. (_Looking at his hand._) My hand?

Mansur. (_To the shopkeepers, smilingly._) Two fingers to each. I pray you quarrel not over the thumb. (_AMRU and ZAYD smile politely in response._)

Hajj. My hand! My hand! Thou’lt cut off my hand?

Mansur. Says not Allah in His Holy Koran: “If a man steal, cut off his hand”?

Hajj. Alas, O poor hand! Thou couldst have served the Wazir of Wazirs, a courtier to his whims, a slave to his desires. (_The TWO EUNUCHS re-enter from the courtyard bearing a boiling cauldron._)

Mansur. Now by the dog, thy father, of what service to me were a rogue’s hand like thine?

(_THE EUNUCHS place the boiling cauldron under HAJJ’S wrist._)

Hajj. What service? There’s not a stronger—a prompter—a bolder in Baghdad! Ready to plunder and pillage, to slash and stab, at thy least command.

Mansur. (_Starting at the word “stab”._) Stab?

Kafur. (_To HAJJ._) Cease thy talk, bare thy wrist. (_He unsheathes the sword._)

Hajj. (_Turns and sees the sword, then says in a resigned voice._) There is no majesty nor might save in Allah! The Causer of Causes! The Ordainer of Fate and Fortune!

Kafur. (_About to raise the sword._) Art thou prepared?

Hajj. Even as the Fox for the Wolf. Strike!

(_KAFUR raises the sword._)

Mansur. Hold!—The Fox and the Wolf?—What story is that?

Hajj. O Wazir of the Age, ’twere too long to recount— (_looking round slyly_) with yon sword in the air.

Mansur. Then shall it first sever thy wrist.

Hajj. (_With an eloquent gesture._) Who can tell a tale without his two hands?

Mansur. Knowest thou many histories?

Hajj. Ask the beggars of my quarter. The teller of night-tales they call me—one and all.

Mansur. Away with the cauldron! (_To KAFUR._) Hither with the sword.

(_KAFUR hands MANSUR the sword; the EUNUCHS take the cauldron into the courtyard._)

Mansur. What is thy name?

Hajj. (_Creeps nearer, on his knees._) Hajj, O my lord.

Mansur. Thou shalt serve me, O Hajj. Thy wit shall shorten the weary watches of my sleeplessness. Take this sword, the badge of thy new dignity. (_He offers him the sword._)

Hajj. O fountain of grace! My hand blesses thee for its salvation, my lowly self for its elevation. (_He takes the sword and raises it to his forehead._) I am thy mameluke, thy chattel. (_He touches the ground with his head._)

Mansur. Rise! Mansur’s servants do not kneel.

Hajj. (_Rising proudly._) Is it thy pleasure that my first act should be an act of clemency?

Mansur. Do as thou wilt.

Hajj. (_Turning ferociously on the shopkeepers._) Then down, O ye calamities! Down, I say, and cry my mercy for lying as ye did, ye false-of-faces!

(_The SHOPKEEPERS sink down in terror. HAJJ approaches them flourishing his sword before them._)

Hajj. Confess ye lied! Confess ye lied!

AMRU and ZAYD. (_Scarcely audible._) We lied! We lied!

Hajj. Louder, by your garlic breaths, louder!

AMRU and ZAYD. We lied! Pardon! Pardon!

Hajj. Pardon?—So ye send not my lord rich gifts of atonement none shall answer for your lives. Up! Turn your faces and show the breadth of your shoulder.

(_The SHOPKEEPERS rise and hurry out by the door, more dead than alive. HAJJ prods their backs with his sword as they vanish._)

Hajj. (_Turning to MANSUR with a flourish._) Is it well, O my master?

Mansur. ’Tis a beginning. Go now! Get thee to thy new quarters. (_To the ATTENDANT._) Ho, Fazil! See Hajj be lodged and robed fittingly. Garb him in the Persian garments of our jester deceased. Alas, poor fellow! He died most sudden of a summer evening. (_With a reassuring smile._) Thou shalt be his successor.

Hajj. I am a tree thy bounty hath planted. May the fruit of my endeavour be to thy taste ever. (_He bows._)

Mansur. Thou shalt give us a smack of thy quality after the mid-day meal. Go! Whoso loveth me let him show honour to Hajj! (_He waves his handkerchief in sign of dismissal._)

Hajj. (_Turns and with a heroic gesture motions the curious aside._) Room for the Wazir’s Jester, O ye dogs!

(_The CROWD falls back before him._)

(_The ATTENDANT leads the way to the left._)

(_HAJJ struts out conducted by the ATTENDANT._)

Mansur. (_To KAFUR and AFIFE._) Think ye I’ve pardoned this mountebank to listen to foolish fables? (_With great emphasis._) He is the man.

Kafur. What man?

Mansur. The man to kill the Caliph.

(_Through the colonnade at the back HAJJ is seen to enter the courtyard from the left and cross over to the right, preceded by the ATTENDANT, MANSUR’S SERVANTS and TWO EUNUCHS, bending low, the crowd following. HAJJ turns to the hall and seeing MANSUR, bows again to him. MANSUR acknowledges his bow with a grim smile. HAJJ, delighted, turns, twirling his moustachios and with enormous swagger moves to the colonnade, right, the ATTENDANT cringing to the new favourite._)

[CURTAIN]

_End of Act I_