(Conducted by the Chamberlain, who crosses to them, they withdraw.)
Caliph. (To the dancers and musicians.) As for ye, O damsels, this hour I grant you freedom and a purse of ten thousand dirhams to each of you. (To an attendant.) Conduct them in all honour from the palace.
(The Attendant leads the Maidens off by the terrace, the Almah following them with a final appealing gesture to the Caliph.)
Abu Bakr. (Kneeling before the Caliph.) O King of the Earth, may thy tutor speak to his charge of many years?
Caliph. Speak, O my father.
Abu Bakr. Of a truth, thou committest a wrong, O my lord, in despising thus hourly the gifts of fair women. Hath Allah not created thee a man in thy manhood?
Caliph. Seest thou this rose? ’Tis holier to me than the red rose of the Prophet! Now by its holiness do I swear to thee, to-night shall put an end to my singleness.
Abu Bakr. Thou hast found what thou seekest?
Caliph. The while thou didst ponder over the revenues of the kingdom, I took my pleasure in thy garden. And lo! The Bestower sent what I prayed for—a sweet maid of a thousand wonders. After sundown I will ride forth to bring her home in full pomp, as she were a princess from a kingdom afar.
Abu Bakr. And who might this Chosen of the chosen be, O my lord?
Caliph. Who? (Smelling of the rose.) The partner of my dreams, the half of my heart, my first love and my last. (He takes a golden bead and throws it into a cup on the table: it rings like a gong.)
(A Herald with a trumpet enters from the terrace.)
Caliph. Let the diwan begin!
(The Herald bows, and goes out onto the terrace again.)
(Abu Bakr moves to the left of the throne, and sits on the golden cushion.)
Herald. (Blows his trumpet, then speaks.) Whoso hath authority, let him come to the Caliph’s Carpet of Justice!
(Slaves unroll a gorgeous carpet before the throne.)
(Stately music begins.)
(The Chamberlain enters with a volume of the law which he brings to the throne, he then retires below the throne to the furthest left corner, behind Abu Bakr.)
(After him follow Six Dignitaries of the Household, who bow to the Caliph, and seat themselves near the columns leading to the terrace.)
(Crowds gather outside on the terrace behind the arches.)
(Ten Wazirs and Kazis enter, making their obeisance and going to their seats at the right.)
(Finally Mansur arrives, followed by Kafur and Afife. Mansur crosses and bows to the Caliph, remaining before the throne.)
(Four Negro Archers follow and place themselves between the columns at the back, drawing their scymitars and so forming a barrier to keep the crowd from entering the hall.)
(The music ceases.)
(The Caliph signs and all the Wazirs sit.)
Mansur. O Commander of the Faithful! Would heaven thou hadst not wearied thyself by honouring thy slave with a letter. The accountings of my treasuries are ready and in full tale. They shall be at thy feet to-morrow before noon-prayer.
Caliph. It is well.
(Mansur bows and goes to his seat right, in front of the other Wazirs.)
(There is a murmur of conversation among the Wazirs.)
(The Caliph throws the bead into the cup a second time.)
Herald. (Blows his trumpet again.) Whoso hath grievance, let him come to the Caliph’s Carpet of Justice!
Chamberlain. (At the foot of the throne, left, stepping forward and unrolling a roll.) In the name of the Judge of Judges, peace and silence. (The crowd ceases murmuring.) The first case: Jawan the highwayman. By command of the Wazir Mansur.
Mansur. (Rising.) O Gracious Sovereign! The mighty Monarch that forewent thee, did banish all robbers from Baghdad both by writ and proclamation. Yet this one is come to flaunt it in the white sunlight as though the word of our beloved lord had been vain as a rain-shower in the sea. Hence ordered I the outlaw before thee.
(Jawan approaches from the terrace, right, supported by Two Archers.)
Caliph. Canst thou not walk without aid?
Jawan. (Kneeling and bowing.) O Commander of the Faithful, Allah hath smitten my limbs with a curse. Thou seest my hours are numbered. I came not to Baghdad with evil intent. I came to pray for salvation at the tombs of the saints, hoping that my gift of alms would somewhat wipe out mine offending.
Caliph. Thou hast given money to the poor?
Jawan. Send to the high priest of the cathedral-mosque. I seek refuge in him and his knowledge of my charities.
Caliph. By all the laws of the realm thy life is forfeit. Yet ’tis written “Better a generous sinner than a stingy saint.” Go one of you to the high priest. (To one of the Kazis.) Kazi Shimas, thou. Inquire into this. (To Jawan.) An thou sayest sooth, repentance and alms have won for thee the kerchief of pardon. (Gesture with handkerchief.)
(One of the Wazirs rises, bows, and goes off through the arch right.)
Jawan. Thy sentence is just as the scales of judgment day!
Caliph. Nay, hear me out. Till word be brought, thou shalt to prison.
Jawan. Prison?
Caliph. A short penance for thy long list of sins. Take him away.
Jawan. Allah preserve and prosper His regent on earth! (Jawan bows to the Caliph and is led off into the prison-tower.)
Caliph. What is there to follow?
Chamberlain. (Consulting his list.) The case of a Moorish juggler. By command of the Wazir Mansur.
Mansur. (Rising.) O Prince of True Believers. This Moorman is a most marvellous wizard. Yet by his very excellence has he roused the jealousy of our native fellows of his craft, who would drive him out of the city. Hence doth he come to kneel to thee for protection.
Caliph. Baghdad never yet grudged hospitality to the stranger of worth. Bring hither the Moor.
Chamberlain. The Moor!
(An Attendant echoes the Chamberlain’s call and voices are heard without repeating: “The Moor! The Moor!”)
(Hajj enters from the right through the columns. On his shoulders like a pair of scales, he balances a pole, the two bird cages at either end,—his magic cloth in his hand.)
Hajj. (Coming forward and kneeling.) O Light of Islam—here lies thy slave between thy hands!
Caliph. Art thou this famous Moorish magician?
Hajj. O King, I am as famous as I am Moorish, as Moorish as I am magician.
Caliph. An thou prove thy repute, thou shalt remain unmolested within our walls.
Hajj. Try me and be thy judgment my doom.
Caliph. Allah granteth thee this. Begin.
(Hajj bows to the Caliph, slips off his cloak and waves his magic cloth in a circle.)
Hajj.
(Throwing the cloth over his shoulder mysteriously.)
(He produces a bowl of flaming fire from his cloth.)
Caliph. (Coming down the steps a little.) Allah! Good.
(Hajj sets the bowl on the floor.)
(The Crowd murmurs approval.)
Hajj. (Pointing to the bird-cages.) O King of glorious degree and never ending! Look thou next on these two cages; one harbouring a fair bird of maiden whiteness; the other a bird black as the royal banner of thy house. Now even as yon flame of fire, so doth the flame of longing scorch the hearts of these hapless lovers, caged apart. Say me then, shall I invoke a kindlier lot upon the two, bringing them breast to breast?
Caliph. (Who during the speech has come down from his throne; eagerly.) Is’t easily done?
Hajj. Most easily. (He waves his magic cloth with his left hand and quickly draws his dagger with his right.) As easily, O my lord, as this! (He gives the Caliph a violent thrust.)
Caliph. (Sinking backwards on the steps of the throne.) Awah!
Abu Bakr. (Throwing himself between Hajj and the Caliph.) O villain! O hound! Seize him! Pinion him!
(Hajj is surrounded in an instant by the Guard. Indescribable confusion ensues. The Wazirs start from their seats. The crowd breaks through the guards. All shout and try to get at Hajj. Cries such as these are heard: “Tear out his eyes!” “Rip out his heart!” “O son of Satan!” “Crucify him over the city gate!” “Scorch his eyes to blindness!” “Chop off his accursed fingers!” “Cut out his tongue!” “Into the flames with him!” “O dog!” “O hell hound!” “O son of perdition!” “Down with him!” “Down!”)
Abu Bakr. (Bending over the Caliph.) How is’t with thee?
Caliph. (Recovering himself and mounting the throne.) Silence! Silence! (He throws the bead into the cup.)
Caliph. Silence! (Comparative silence.) Touch not the man. Touch him not, I say.—I am safe! Allah hath shielded me by the grace of my coat of mail. (He displays it.)
(Gradually absolute silence is restored.)
Mansur. (With unction.) Praise Eternal to the Preserver of our King.
All. “Praise to the Preserver!” “Amin!” “A thousand years to the Caliph!” “Life forever to Abdallah” etc.
(The cup is struck again. All regain their respective places.)
(Hajj is brought forward, held by Four Black Archers. His whole appearance is dishevelled. He looks deathly pale.)
(Outside the day begins to wane.)
Caliph. Why didst thou this?
Hajj. (After a moment.) I know not. The crime was foredoomed me by Fate.
Caliph. Before the whole world, in the place of places, in front of my palace, there shall thy soul be stripped from thee, shred by shred. Into the Prison of Wrath with him.
Hajj. Nay, hear me! Hear me! I was tempted beyond measure.
Caliph. How’s this? Who tempted thee?
Hajj. I have sworn silence.
Caliph. By my holy office of Imam, I absolve thee of thine oath. Speak.
Hajj. (Half looking round at Mansur.) I—cannot.
Caliph. The key of torture shall soon unlock thy lips.
Hajj. Torture! Nay, by the Pardoner, since thou dost absolve me, there sits he who tempted me! The Wazir Mansur.
All. (In amazement.) “Mansur?” “The Wazir?” “He?” “What says he?”
Caliph. Mansur?
Mansur. (Rises, glibly.) The man’s be-devilled, O my lord. Bewitched by fiends. I know him not.
Hajj. Know me not? I have shared my salt with him. He swore to make my daughter his bride, would I but end thy days. Kafur, Afife! Bear ye witness!
Caliph. (With surprise to Mansur.) How’s this? He calls thy men by name?
Mansur. What of that? Mayhap the villain has frequented my halls in search of some favour. Nay, now I look on him—true. I’ve done the dog a kindness. He came indeed to offer me his daughter, and I accepted of her. Yet not for myself, O King, but to serve my scavenger blackamoors.
Hajj. (With a cry of horror, trying to throw himself on Mansur.) Ah!
(The Archers restrain him, he struggles madly.)
Caliph. (Calling out at once.) Silence him!
(One of the Archers from behind slips a black cloth over Hajj’s mouth.)
(The sky is lighted with the blaze of sunset.)
Mansur. Yet though the drab be now in my harim, by the Koran I swear, O King, even as this day ends red so shall she end red this day.
Caliph. This matter is too full for the crowded course of the Diwan. I shall examine into it apart—after sundown. No! (He takes up the rose half unconsciously.) Not after sundown. To-morrow. (With a significant look.) O Mansur, fail thou me not. Thy words do far from hush my doubts in thee.
Mansur. Hearkening and obedience.
Caliph. I shall sit in my scarlet of anger. Let the executioner be notified. Off with the wretch. Not a crust, not a drop to him. No hospitality shall bind us. He shall be made a warning to all, the blackest death in Islam! Away!
(Hajj is dragged off through the prison-door, impotent and bound.)
(A general murmur among the crowd.)
(The Caliph puts down the rose and throws the bead into the cup.)
(Silence.)
Caliph. What case have we to come?
Chamberlain. (Taking up the list.) The case of Kabirah, the widow.
(The little old woman of the Bazaar appears and totters forward, kneeling before the throne.)
[Curtain]
Scene IV. The Prison of the Palace.
The place is dark except for a small barred window in the right wall, high up. Through this come the red rays of the setting sun, which fall on the wall, left—a brilliant patch creeping slowly higher and higher.
Under the window in the shadow lies Jawan, the highwayman, an unrecognisable heap.
A moment of silence. Then the door is unlocked and unbolted and creaking loudly, to the rattle of keys, it admits Kutayt, the Gaoler, a huge, dark-skinned man of brute force. He pushes open the door, and crosses to some chains fixed to an angle that juts out, left, under the patch of sunlight.
Outside is heard the shuffle of feet and blows. Hajj appears directly, pushed and driven by the Four Black Archers. His mouth is still covered with the black bandage. The Archers drag him to the wall, left, where Kutayt stands ready to clap the chains on his wrists.
Kutayt. (Turning Hajj round.) What outlandish garments have we here? Not Arabian. How? (Hajj gives a muffled reply.) (Kutayt pulling the bandage from his mouth.) How?
Hajj. (Breathless.) Moorish, O my master.
Kutayt. Moorish! Hoo! Hoo! Wilt thou buy straw from me?
Hajj. I have no money.
Kutayt. No money?
Hajj. Not a danik.
Kutayt. (Shouting.) Nothing? Shall I waste my breath sucking of an empty bottle? Here with thy paws, O misery! (He claps the chains on Hajj.) Yehh, what a life is mine, crushing lice! (He throws Hajj down on the ground.) Lie there, thou vermin. Moorish! (He spits on Hajj, then follows the others banging the door to behind him, bolting and locking it from without.)
(A moment of silence.)
Hajj. (Groaning.) There is no majesty nor might save Allah! Is it this I have come to? (Rattling the chains, he sinks down beating palm on palm in despair.) O thou purse! Thou little purse flung me at sunrise! Thou hast been mine undoing! Thou wast from Satan! From him, mine enemy. O Jawan! Jawan! As Allah is my witness, may thy soul be cast down into the fires of hell to burn and boil to infinity without end.
(Out of the gloom of the opposite wall comes Jawan’s sharp voice, half mockingly.)
Jawan. Who calls me? Can it be thou, O Hajj?
Hajj. (Amazed.) Allah! (He sits up.) Art thou an Ifrit speaking?
Jawan. No Ifrit, O brother. No spirit of air or fire. But thy flesh-and-bones enemy, whom thou dost curse so sweetly.
Hajj. Jawan—thyself—here?
Jawan. Even as thou, O my friend of long ago.
Hajj. (He laughs.) Ha! Ha! By Allah! Thou here! And through me! For ’twas I who told Mansur of thee! My prayer is answered. We shall end side by side. ’Tis well. I die content.
Jawan. Why art thou here?
Hajj. For attempting the Caliph’s days.
Jawan. The Caliph’s? Thou? Then art thou indeed dead.
Hajj. Even as thou art.
Jawan. Nay, I shall be free. I tell thee I shall live, live to see my son. Yehh! As clearly as I see him now with the eyes of the heart. As clearly as I saw him last with the eyes of the head. (In an exalted strain.) There he stood, my Yusuf, in the wold and wild, by my tent, the dust-cloud of the coming foe walling the horizon. I made him kneel before me and blessed and kissed him. And as I did so an amulet hung forth from my breast. I broke it in half—a hand of Fatimah. (He taps his chest.) Half I kept for myself, here. The other I fixed on the chain round his neck. By that broken half shall I find him again. I know it.
Hajj. (Laughing derisively.) Ha! Ha! After twenty-five years? Thou art in thy dotage.
Jawan. Allah will give him back to me. I have gone to Mecca thrice. All my moneys have I spent in charity.
Hajj. Charity? Will charity quicken my little son, whom thou didst slaughter? Charity restore the wife thou didst rob me of? I tell thee thou shalt surely die to-morrow. Thy blood and mine shall mingle together on the thirsty ground. That is my sole consolation, the honey in this my bitterness.
(The lock is heard to turn and the door is unbolted. Kutayt reappears with a document in his hand.)
(The sunlight begins to fade.)
Kutayt. (Going to Jawan, holding out the document.) The Commander of the Faithful has lent ear to the pleadings of the High Priest. Thou art pardoned and released.
Jawan. Allah prolong the Caliph’s days of Glory!
Kutayt. Canst thou climb the stairs unaided?
Jawan. Where are my slaves?
Kutayt. Thy slaves? Alas! When they saw thee prisoner they turned and fled!
Jawan. Whoreson knaves! How shall I get me from here? (Chinking a purse.) This purse of fifty dinars, an thou canst find me a litter.
Kutayt. (Obsequiously.) O my lord, there is a stretcher above to carry away the dead. Will that suffice thy graciousness?
Jawan. Anything, so I need no longer weary thine hospitality. He! He! He!
Kutayt. (Laughing politely.) Hoo, Hoo! Hearing is obeying.
Hajj. (Eagerly.) Am I pardoned too? Am I free?
Kutayt. Hoo! Hoo! Pardoned? Free? Wait till thy tongue’s torn out, thine eyes scorched to blindness, thy body nailed to the dome over the Gate of Destruction. Then wilt thou be free—indeed—at last! Hoo! Hoo!
Hajj. (Tugging at his chains.) Allah damn thee for thy mocking!
Kutayt. Hoo? Curse me, O thou? That for thee, thou offal, thou stench. (He strikes Hajj over the head with the huge door-key. Hajj with a cry totters, then sinks on his knees and faints.) How? Fainted? Hoo! Hoo! Fainted. Rose-water for the Princess! Rose-water and fumes and ambergris! Fainted! (Turning and bowing obsequiously to Jawan.) O my lord, thy litter shall be with thee on the instant.
(He goes off and slams the door, bolts and locks it.)
(Silence.)
Hajj. (After some groans, slowly returning to consciousness, in the whining tone of the beggar, not realising where he is.) Alms for the love of Allah! For the love of—— (He awakes slowly to his surroundings; with a cry of horror.) Ah! I am here! I am here. ’Tis over—is it? Is it over?
Jawan. He! He! He! ’Tis not yet begun.
Hajj. ’Tis not? (Coming to the full realisation of things.) Thou! Now I know. Thou! Oh! The sun is setting! Red! Red! (With a sudden cry.) Mansur!—Thou fiend of lowest hell! “Even as the day ends red, so shall she end red this day!” O Marsinah! O Marsinah! And I in prison—in chains!
Jawan. He! He! He!
Hajj. Laugh! Thou canst laugh? Thou the beginning—thou the end of my sufferings! (Tugging at the chains.) O Allah! Give me strength. Make these strong arms doubly, trebly strong! Put all the power of a lifetime into these sinews; only for once, O Allah, that I may snap these maddening chains in twain!
Jawan. Never! Never! (He laughs jeeringly.) He! He! He!
Hajj. Once! Only once! (He tugs, he twists, then with a wild cry of delight he has broken himself free.) Free! Free! The Granter hath granted!
Jawan. (With terror—breathless.) Wah——
Hajj. (Sitting up, very quietly.) At last!
Jawan. (Trembling.) What—what art thou thinking?
Hajj. (Rises.) What—what? (He crouches slightly and slowly, step by step, like a wild beast, creeps over to Jawan’s corner.)
Jawan. No nearer! I have a knife.
Hajj. A knife—hast thou?
Jawan. ’T has served me a thousand times. Luck’s written on the blade.
Hajj. Luck? I take my luck. (With a cry.) Allah is all great! (He springs into the dark at Jawan.)
(A fierce struggle as of two panthers fighting. Groans, hisses, heavings and cries. After a minute—silence. Then Hajj emerges from the dark.)
Hajj. (Breathless and fervently.) O Allah mine, thou hast given me this hour. Behold my sacrifice to thee. At last, at last, I am avenged! Avenged! (Laughing bitterly.) But my Marsinah!—Oh spare her, O Lord of justice, spare her from Mansur and the horror of his harim. (A thought striking him.) The harim! Kut-al-Kulub! The Wife of wives! Even now she is waiting for me! If I could reach her! She’d help me to save Marsinah! She’d— (He goes to the door pounding on it desperately.) Free! Free! Free!—(He stops and turns hopelessly.) Madness! (Looking at Jawan’s body.) They’ll find him the moment the litter comes, and then—(With sudden inspiration.) The litter! Allah! Dost Thou open the door of escape? Dost Thou? (Wildly.) Ha! Ha! Ha! If it succeed! If it succeed! (He goes into the corner to the body.) The cloak! The turband! The purse! In his sleeve,—his breast? (He comes across the chain on his breast.) The chain! The broken hand of Fatimah! (Imitating Jawan.) “I shall see my son again! I shall find him!” Wilt thou? (He takes off the chain.) Wilt thou? (Putting it over his own neck.) Hang thou here on my neck now thou broken hand of Fatimah! I shall find him, so Allah will it. I shall! Ha! (He finds the purse and chinks it.) Fifty dinars! For the gaoler! Good! Now off with thy cloak. What? (He stops and listens.) Nothing. Nothing. Keep thine eyes cool and clear, O Hajj. Cool and clear. (He returns to the body.) So! So! Thou shalt play the Moorman now, O my king. Dead. Ha! Ha! Thou art dead, dost thou hear? And yet, O dead one, ’tis thou shalt draw me out of my grave—me thy slayer! (He drags the body to where he lay fainting when the gaoler went out and covers it with his own cloak.) So! Lie thou there! Quiet! Budge not, I pray thee. Faint! (He turns to Jawan’s cloak and turband.) Now for mine own beautifying! (As he picks up the garments he sees the knife which he discarded.) The knife! Luck’s written on the blade. (He puts the knife into his belt.) Luck! So be it. Luck shall carry me into the street. Luck let me leap from the litter! Luck bring me to the harim and to thee, O my Marsinah, O my——(The door outside is unlocked.)
(Hajj throwing the cloak over himself, hurries into Jawan’s dark corner and lies down. Kutayt reappears with a lanthorn, followed by two men with a rough stretcher.)
Kutayt. The stretcher, O my lord.
Hajj. (Coughing and imitating Jawan’s voice.) Here! (He throws the purse.)
Kutayt. (Picking it up and examining it by the light of the lanthorn.) Allah bless thy journey. (To the men as they lift up Hajj.) Carefully. Lift the Sheikh of sheikhs carefully. (He chinks the purse and turns to the dead body.) How? Still fainted! Hoo! Hoo! Look, O my lord—(He goes to the body and raises up an arm.) Still fainted!
Hajj. (As the litter is lifted up and carried out, imitating Jawan’s laugh.) He! He! He! (He is carried through the door.)
Kutayt. (Dropping the arm.) Rose water! (Kicking the body.) Rose water! Hoo! Hoo!
Hajj. (From the staircase, without.) He! He! He!
(Kutayt turns slowly and follows the litter, slamming the door behind him.)
[Curtain]
End of Act II