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SCENE V
Bagdad.
A room in the Caliph’s harem.
ANICE-ALJALICE Girls, is he passing ?
A SLAVE-GIRL He is passing.
ANICE-ALJALICE Quick, my lute! Song The Emperor of Roum is great; The Caliph has a mighty State; But One is greater, to Whom all prayers take wing; And I, a poor and weeping slave, When the world rises from its grave, Shall stand up the accuser of my King.
Girls, is he coming up ?
A SLAVE-GIRL The Caliph enters. Enter Haroun and Jaafar.
HAROUN AL RASHEED
Thou art the slave-girl, Anice-Aljalice ?
ANICE-ALJALICE Caliph, for thee. Where is my lord ? Page – 721
HAROUN AL RASHEED A king in Bassora.
ANICE-ALJALICE Who told thee?
HAROUN AL RASHEED So it must be.
ANICE-ALJALICE Is there news ?
HAROUN AL RASHEED No, strange! Seven days gone by nor yet a letter!
ANICE-ALJALICE Caliph, high sovereign, Haroun al Rasheed, Men call thee Just, Great Abbasside! I am A poor and helpless slave-girl, but my grief Is greater than a King. Lord, I demand My soul’s dear husband at thy hand, who sent him Alone, unfollowed, without guard or friend To a tyrant Sultan and more tyrant Vizier, His potent enemies. Oh, they have killed him! Give back my husband to my arms unhurt Or I will rise upon the judgment day Against thee. Caliph Haroun al Rasheed, Demanding him at that eternal throne Where names are not received, nor earthly pomps Considered. Then my frail and woman’s voice Shall ring more dreadful in thy mighty hearing Than doom’s own trumpet. Answer my demand.
HAROUN AL RASHEED Anice, I do believe thy lord is well. And yet — No, by my great forefathers, no! My seal and signature were on the script, Page – 722 And they are mightier than a thousand armies. If he has disobeyed, for him ’twere better He were a beggar’s unrespected child Than Haroun’s kin; —the Arabian simoom Shall be less devastating than my wrath. Out, Jaafar, out to Bassora, behind thee Sweeping embattled war; nor night nor tempest Delay thy march. I follow in thy steps. Take too this damsel and these fifty slave-girls, With robes and gifts for Bassora’s youthful king. I give thee power o’er Kings and Emperors To threaten, smite and seize. Go, friend, I follow As swift as thunder presses on the lightning. Exit.
JAAFAR (to the slave-girls) Make ready; for we march within the hour. Exit. Page – 723 |