Hassan: The Story of Hassan of Baghdad and How He Came to Make the Golden Journey to Samarkand Part 2

SCENE II

Moonlight. The Street of Felicity by the Fountain of the Two Pigeons.

A house with a balcony on either side of the street.

In front of one of the houses, Ha.s.sAN, cloaked: a PORTER.

Ha.s.sAN Has she received the box, O guardian of the door of separation?

PORTER From my hands, O dispenser of bounty.

Ha.s.sAN What did thy mistress say?

PORTER Sir, the hands of mediation are empty.

Ha.s.sAN (Giving a dinar) I have filled them.

What honey dropped from that golden mouth?

PORTER She said--may thy servant find grace--"Curses on that fat sugar cook and his love-sick eyes. Allah be praised, his confectionery is better than his countenance!"

Ha.s.sAN (Aside) If she likes the confectionery, all may be well.

And what didst thou reply?

PORTER: I said: "His sweets sparkle like diamonds and rubies in the crown of OUR Caliph, and his sugar is as pure as his intentions."

And she answered--the protection on thy slave--"his intentions may be pure, but his coat is greasy."

Ha.s.sAN And did she eat the confectionery?

PORTER I do not know. But within the hour I removed the box, and it was empty.

Ha.s.sAN Ah! Salaam and thanks.

PORTER And to thee the Salaam.

Ha.s.sAN But tell me what is the name of thy mistress?

PORTER Yasmin is her name, Sir.

Ha.s.sAN A sweet name for a moonlight night. Salaam aleik.u.m.

PORTER Ya Hawaja, v'aleik.u.m a.s.salam!

(The PORTER returns and shuts the gate.)

Ha.s.sAN (To himself) What if the Jews are an older race than we and know old forgotten secrets? Alas, I believe no more in these Israelitish sweets. Could those drops of purple liquid command the spirit of love? And yet, who can say? the young men of the market-place laugh at all enchantments--but do they know how to spin the sun? On a night like this, does not the very fountain sing in tune and enchant the dropping stones? Ah, Yasmin?

(Taking a lute from beneath his cloak and a tuning it.) Yasmin...Yasmin...Yasmin...Yasmin.

(Intones to the accompaniment of the lute.)

How splendid in the morning glows the lily; with what grace he throws His supplication to the rose: do roses nod the head, Yasmin?

But when the silver dove descends I find the little flower of friends, Whose very name that sweetly ends, I say when I have said, Yasmin.

The morning light is clear and cold; I dare not in that light behold A whiter light, a deeper gold, a glory too far shed, Yasmin.

But when the deep red eye of day is level with for the lone highway, And some to Mecca turn to pray, and I toward thy bed, Yasmin, Or when the wind beneath the moon is drifting like a soul aswoon, And harping planets talk love's tune with milky wings outspread, Yasmin, Shower down thy love, O burning bright! for one night or the other night Will come the Gardener in white, and gathered flower are dead, Yasmin!

(As Ha.s.sAN intones the last "Yasmin" with pa.s.sion the shutters open, and YASMIN, veiled, looks out.)

YASMIN Alas, Minstrel, Yasmin is my name also, but it was for a fairer Yasmin than me, I fear, you have strung these pearls.

Ha.s.sAN There is no Yasmin but Yasmin, and you are Yasmin.

YASMIN Can this be Ha.s.san, the Confectioner?

Ha.s.sAN I am Ha.s.san, and I am a confectioner.

YASMIN Mashallah, Ha.s.san, your words are sweeter than your sweets.

Ha.s.sAN Gracious lady, your eyes look down through your veil like angels through a cloud. Dare I ask to see your face, O bright perfection?

YASMIN (Roguishly) Do you take me for a Christian, father of impertinence?

And since when do the daughters of Islam unveil before strangers?

Ha.s.sAN It is said: he who speaks to the heart is no stranger.

YASMIN (Unveiling her eyes) Are you satisfied, O importunate!

Ha.s.sAN Never, till I have seen perfection to perfection.

YASMIN You would shrivel, my poet. What about "the glory too far shed, Yasmin"?

Ha.s.sAN Let me see you unveiled, Yasmin.

YASMIN Anything to close the portal of your face.

(Unveiling.) There. Do I please thee, my Sultan?

Ha.s.sAN (Rapturously) Oh, you are beautiful!

YASMIN Prince of poets, is that all you have to say! Not a stanza, not a trope, not a turn, not a twist, not even a hint that the heavens are opened, or that there are two moons in the sky together?

Ha.s.sAN There is but one.

YASMIN Well confectioned, my confectioner! And now, Good-night.

Ha.s.sAN O stay, Yasmin, you are too beautiful, and I too bold.

I am nothing, and you are the Queen of the Stars of Night.

But the thought of you is twisted in the strings of my heart; I burn with love of you, Yasmin. Put me to the proof, my lady; there was nothing I could not do for your bright eyes.

I would cross the salt desert and wrest a cup of the water of life from the Jinn that guards it; I would walk to the barriers of the world and steal the roc's egg from its diamond nest. I would swim the seven oceans, and cross the five islands to rob Solomon ben Dawud of his ring in the palace where he lies sleeping in the silence and majesty of uncorrupting death. And I would slip the ring on your finger and make you mistress of the spirits of the air-- but would you love me? Could you love me, do you love me, Yasmin?