Hassan: The Story of Hassan of Baghdad and How He Came to Make the Golden Journey to Samarkand Part 17

(Ha.s.sAN whirls sword round.)

You dare not do it, looking at my eyes!

(Ha.s.sAN flings the sword across the room and falls across the divan, his face in his hands.)

Ha.s.sAN O Ha.s.san the Confectioner, thou art nothing but an old man and a fool!

(YASMIN comes up to Ha.s.sAN. The BOYS silently disappear.

He draws her toward him.)

(With infinite tenderness) Yasmin!

SCENE III

The Great Hall of the Palace. The room is plain, white marble.

ISHAK alone, in his robes of Court Chamberlain.

(Enter SOLDIERS with the CAPTAIN OF THE MILITARY and the CHIEF OF POLICE.) (The SOLDIERS intone "The War Song of the Saracens.")

SOLDIERS sing

We are they who come faster than fate: we are they who ride early or late: We storm at your ivory gate: Pale Kings of the sunset beware!

Not on silk nor on samet we lie, nor in curtained solemnity die Among women who chatter and cry and children who mumble a prayer.

But we sleep by the ropes of the camp, and we rise with a shout and we tramp With the sun or the moon for a lamp, and the spray of the wind in our hair.

From the lands where the elephant are to the forts of Merou and Balghar, Our steel we have brought and our star to s.h.i.+ne on the ruins of Rum.

We have marched from the Indies to Spain, and by G.o.d we will go there again; We have stood on the sh.o.r.e of the plain where the Waters of Destiny boom.

A mart of destruction we made at Yalula where men were afraid, For death was a difficult trade, and the sword was a broker of doom; And the Spear was a Desert Physician, who cured not a few of ambition, And drave not a few to perdition with medicine bitter and strong.

And the s.h.i.+eld was a grief to the fool and as bright as a desolate pool, And as straight as the rock of Stamboul when our cavalry thundered along: For the coward was drowned with the brave when our battle sheered up like a wave, And our dead to the desert we gave, and the glory to G.o.d in our song.

THE SOLDIERS (Cheering) Allah Akbar! (etc.)

CHIEF OF POLICE That is a splendid song your soldiers sing, O breaker of infidel bones.

Permit an inglorious policeman to inquire what flaming victory you celebrate today. Such is my loathly ignorance, I knew not the Caliph's army (may it be ever plosh in seas of hostile blood!) had even left Baghdad.

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY It is true we have not left Baghdad, But perchance we have saved it from destruction. For when the Caliph's Police have allowed a conspiracy to ripen undetected, It is our duty to mow down the conspirators.

It is true we did but vanquish beggars--but they were beggars to fight.

Half of them we slew and one-half we captured, and, since the police believe no clue but the ocular, here they are.

A victory is well worth a song.

CHIEF OF POLICE Allah, such a song! I thought: "At the least they have captured Cairo."

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY To save Bagdad is better than to capture Cairo.

CHIEF OF POLICE (Pointing to the captive BEGGARS) Behold only the chain-mail of the vanquished!

CHIEF OF MILITARY It is an old song, a glorious great battle song, and in mocking it thou has displayed on an absence of education, thou dragger of dead dogs from obscure gutters.

ISHAK Is this talk for the high divan, Captain? Ye have saved Bagdad?

Bagdad is no longer worth saving. You rose-petal-bellied parasites of the palace, how dare you sing that song?

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY Allah, these poets talk in rhyme.

(Enter the Herald announcing various personages, who enter as he announces them and are motioned to their place by ISHAK.)

HERALD Abu Said, Prince of Basra, to do homage. Fahraddin, Prince of Damascus, to do homage. Al Mustansir, Prince of Koniah, to do homage.

Tahir Dhu'l Yaminayn, governor of Khorasan, to do homage.

The great calligraphist, Afiq of Diarbekir, master of the riqa and the s.h.i.+kasta hands: also of the Peac.o.c.k style, and of painting in miniature.

ISHAK (Aside) Episodes of considerable obscenity.

HERALD The celebrated Turkoman wrestler, Yurghiz Khan, whose thighs are three cubits in circ.u.mference.

ISHAK (Aside) As fat as a woman's, but not as nice.

HERALD Abu Nouwas, the Caliph's jester. The Rajah of the Upper Ganges, come hither to do homage with a present of 800 bales of indigo.

ISHAK (Aside) And never dyed his beard.

HERALD Hang Wung, the wisest philosopher in China, come hither to study the excellence of the habits of true believers. He is a hundred and ten years old....

ISHAK (Aside) And perfectly blind.

HERALD Anastasius Johannes Georgius, amba.s.sador of the infidel Empress Irene, mistress till G.o.d wills of Constaniniyeh and the lands of Rum, come here on a vain errand....

ISHAK He understands no word, and believes we do honour to his name.

But the jest is thin, my Herald.

HERALD Abul Asal, the wandering dervish, come hither to remind kings that they are but dust.

ISHAK "Where lies Nus.h.i.+ravan the Just?"

DERVISH The rhyme helps reason. In the dust.

ISHAK The plat.i.tudes of dervishes do not much disturb the beat.i.tudes of kings.

HERALD Masrur, the Executioner, come hither to make several beggars the dusty equivalents of monarchs.

ISHAK Ah, you may well s.h.i.+ver, poor captives: it is draughty among your rags.