SCENE IV
A room in the women’s apartments of Ibn Sawy’s house.
Ameena, Doonya.
AMEENA
Call, Doonya, to the eunuch once again
And ask if Nureddene has come.
DOONYA
Mother,
What is the use ? You know he has not come.
Why do you fret your heart, sweet mother, for
him?
Bad coins are never lost.
AMEENA
Fie, Doonya! bad?
He is not bad, but wild, a trifle wild;
And the one little fault’s like a stray curl
Among his clustering golden qualities,
That graces more than it disfigures him.
Bad coin! Oh, Doonya, even the purest gold
Has some alloy, so do not call him bad.
DOONYA
Sweet, silly mother! why, I called him that
Just to hear you defend him.
AMEENA
You laugh at me, —
Oh, you all laugh. And yet I will maintain
My Nureddene’s the dearest lad in Bassora, —
Let him disprove’t who can, — in all this realm
The beautifullest and kindest.
DOONYA
So the girls think
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Through all our city. Oh, I laugh at you
And at myself. I’m sure I am as bad
A sister to him as you are a mother.
AMEENA
I a bad mother, Doonya ?
DOONYA
The worst possible.
You spoil him; so do I; so does his father;
So does all Bassora, — especially the girls!
AMEENA
Why, who could be unkind to him or see
His merry eyes grow clouded with remorse ?
DOONYA
Is it he who comes ?
She goes out and returns.
It is my uncle, mother,
And there’s a girl with him, —-1 think she is
A copy of Nureddene in white and red.
Why, as I looked downstairs, she smiled up at me
And took the heart out of my body with the smile.
Are you going to have a rival at your years,
Poor mother ? ‘Tis late for uncle to go wooing.
AMEENA
A rival, you mad girl!
Enter Ibn Sawy and Anice-Aljalice.
IBN
SAWY
Come forward, child.
Here is a slave-girl, Ameena, I’ve bought
For our great Sultan. Keep her from your son,
Your scapegrace son. My life upon it, dame!
If he touches her, I’m gone.
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AMEENA
I’ll see to it.
IBN
SAWY
Let a strong eunuch with a naked sword
Stand at her door. Bathe her and feed her daintily.
Your son! see that he does not wheedle you.
You’ve spoilt him so, there is no trusting you,
You tender, foolish heart.
AMEENA
I spoil him, husband!
IBN
SAWY
Most damnably. Whenever I would turn
Wholesomely harsh to him, you come between
And coax my anger. Therefore he is spoilt.
DOONYA
Oh, uncle mine, when you are harsh, the world
Grows darker with your frown. See, how I tremble!
IBN
SAWY
Oh, are you there, my little satirist?
When were you whipped last ?
DOONYA
When you last were harsh.
IBN
SAWY
You shall be married off. I will not have you
Mocking an old and reverend man like me.
Whom will you marry, chit?
DOONYA
An old, old man,
Just such a smiling harsh old man as you,
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None else.
IBN
SAWY
And not a boy like young Fareed ?
His father wishes it; he too, I think.
DOONYA
Throw me from this high window to the court
Or tell me ere the day and I will leap.
IBN
SAWY
Is he so bad ? I thought it. No, my niece,
You marry not with Khakan’s evil stock,
Although there were no other bridegroom living.
I’ll leave you, Ameena. Anice, I have a son,
Handsome and wanton. Let him not behold you!
You are wise and spirited beyond your years,
Above your sex; I trust in your discretion.
ANICE-ALJALICE
I will be careful, sir. Yet trust in bars
And portals, not in me. If he should find me,
I am his slave and born to do his will.
IBN
SAWY
Be careful, dame.
Exit.
AMEENA
How fair you are, small lady!
Tis better truly he should see you not.
Doonya, be careful of her. I’ll go before
And make your casket ready for you, gem.
Bring her behind me, Doonya.
Exit.
DOONYA
(leaping on Anice)
What’s your name,
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You smiling wonder, what’s your name? Your name?
ANICE-ALJALICE
If you will let me a little breathe, I’ll tell you.
DOONYA
Tell it me without breathing.
ANICE-ALJALICE
It’s too long.
DOONYA
Let’s hear it.
ANICE-ALJALICE
Anice-Aljalice.
DOONYA
Anice,
There is a sea of laughter in your body;
I find it billowing there beneath the calm
And rippling sweetly out in smiles. You beauty!
And I love laughers. Wherefore for the King?
Why not for me ? Does the King ever laugh,
I wonder?
She runs out.
ANICE-ALJALICE
My King is here. But they would give me
To some thick-bearded swart and grizzled Sultan
Who’d see me once a week and keep me penned
For service, not for mirth and love. My prince
Is like our Persian boys, fair-faced and merry,
Fronting the world with glad and open looks
That make the heart rejoice. Ten days! ’tis much.
Kingdoms have toppled in ten days.
Doonya returns.
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DOONYA
Come, Anice.
I wish my cousin Nureddene had come
And caught you here. What fun it would have been!
Exeunt.
Curtain
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