Lord of the Pass and beat the outer door. Say that the great lady herself would see him. The great lady, Miss Clement, the white
traveller’s heiress.
DAOUD
Yes, master.
JOHN BEAL
Hasten.
[Exit DAOUD.]
I have sent him for Hussein.
MIRALDA
I don’t know their language.
JOHN BEAL
You will see him, and I’ll tell you what he says.
MIRALDA [to ARCHIE]
Have you been here long?
ARCHIE BEAL
No. I think he wrote to me by the same mail as he wrote to you (if they have mails here). I came at once.
MIRALDA
So did I; but you weren’t on the Empress of Switzerland.
ARCHIE BEAL
No, I came round more by land.
JOHN BEAL
You know, I hardly like bringing Hussein in here to see you. He’s such a–he’s rather a . . .
MIRALDA
What’s the matter with him?
JOHN BEAL
Well, he’s rather of the brigand type, and one doesn’t know what he’ll do.
MIRALDA
Well, we must see him first and hear what he has to say before we take any steps.
JOHN BEAL
But what do you propose to do?
MIRALDA
Why, if he pays me everything he owes, or gives up the security . . .
JOHN BEAL
The security is the pass.
MIRALDA
Yes. If he gives up that or pays . . .
JOHN BEAL
You know he’s practically king of the whole country. It seems rather cheek almost my sending for him like this.
MIRALDA
He must come.
JOHN BEAL
But what are you going to do?
MIRALDA
If he gives up the pass . . .
JOHN BEAL
Why, if he gives up the pass you’d be you’d be a kind of queen of it all.
MIRALDA
Well, if he does that, all right. . .
JOHN BEAL
But what if he doesn’t?
MIRALDA
Why, if he doesn’t pay . . .
HUSSEIN [off]
I am here.
JOHN BEAL
Be seen.
[Enter HUSSEIN.]
HUSSEIN
Greeting once more.
JOHN BEAL
Again greeting…. The great lady,
Miss Clement, is here.
[HUSSEIN and MIRALDA look at each
other.]
You will pay to Miss Clement and not to your god of bronze. On the word of an
Englishman, your god of bronze shall not have one gold piece that belongs to the great lady!
HUSSEIN [looking contemptuous]
On the word of the Lord of the Pass, I only pay to Hinnard.
[He stands smiling while MIRALDA
regards him. Exit.]
ARCHIE BEAL
Well?
JOHN BEAL
He won’t pay.
ARCHIE BEAL
What are we to do now?
JOHN BEAL [to MIRALDA]
I’m afraid he’s rather an ugly customer to introduce you to like that. I’m sorry he came now.
MIRALDA
O, I like him, I think he looks splendid.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what are we to do?
JOHN BEAL
Yes.
ARCHIE BEAL
What do you say, Miss Clement?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, what do you feel we ought to do?
MIRALDA
Well, perhaps I ought to leave all that to you.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, no.
JOHN BEAL
No, it’s your money. What do you think we really ought to do?
MIRALDA
Well, of course, I think you ought to kill Hussein.
[JOHN BEAL and ARCHIE BEAL look
at each other a little startled.]
JOHN BEAL
But wouldn’t that–wouldn’t that
be–murder?
MIRALDA
O, yes, according to the English law.
JOHN BEAL
I see; you mean–you mean we’re not–but we are English.
MIRALDA
I mean it wouldn’t be murder–by your law, unless you made it so.
JOHN BEAL
By my law?
MIRALDA
Yes, if you can interfere with their religion like this, and none of them say a word,
why–you can make any laws you like.
JOHN BEAL
But Hussein is king here; he is Lord of the Pass, and that’s everything here. I’m nobody.
MIRALDA
O, if you like to be nobody, of course that’s different.
ARCHIE BEAL
I think she means that if Hussein weren’t there there’d be only you. Of course, I don’t know. I’ve only just come.
JOHN BEAL
But we can’t kill Hussein!
[MIRALDA begins to cry.]
O Lord! Good heavens! Please, Miss
Clement! I’m awfully sorry if I’ve said anything you didn’t like. I wouldn’t do that for worlds. I’m awfully sorry. It’s a beastly country, I know. I’m really sorry you came. I feel it’s all my fault. I’m really awfully sorry. . .
MIRALDA
Never mind. Never mind. I was so
helpless, and I asked you to help me. I never ought to have done it. I oughtn’t to have spoken to you at all in that train without being introduced; but I was so helpless. And now, and now, I haven’t a penny in the world, and, O, I don’t know what to do.
ARCHIE BEAL
We’ll do anything for you, Miss Clement.
JOHN BEAL
Anything in the wide world. Please, please don’t cry. We’ll do anything.
MIRALDA
I . . . I only, I only wanted to–to kill Hussein. But never mind, it doesn’t matter now.
JOHN BEAL
We’ll do it, Miss Clement, won’t we,
Archie? Only don’t cry. We’ll do it. I–I suppose he deserves it, doesn’t he?
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I suppose he does.
JOHN BEAL
Well, all right, Miss Clement, that’s settled. My brother and I will talk it over.
MIRALDA [still sniping]
And–and–don’t hang him or anything–he looks so fine…. I–I wouldn’t like
him treated like that. He has such a grand beard. He ought to die fighting.
JOHN BEAL
We’ll see what we can do, Miss Clement.
MIRALDA
It is sweet of you. It’s really sweet. It’s sweet of both of you. I don’t know what I d have done without you. I seemed to know
it that day the moment I saw you.
JOHN BEAL
O, it’s nothing, Miss Clement, nothing at all.
ARCHIE BEAL
That’s all right.
MIRALDA
Well, now I’ll have to look for an hotel.
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that’s the trouble, that really is the trouble. That’s what I’ve been thinking of
MIRALDA
Why, isn’t there . . .
JOHN BEAL
No, I’m afraid there isn’t. What are we to do, Archie.
ARCHIE BEAL
I–I can’t think. Perhaps Miss Clement would have a scheme.
MIRALDA [to JOHN BEAL]
I rely on you, Mr. Beal.
JOHN BEAL
I–I; but what can I . . . You see,
you’re all alone. If you’d anyone with you, you could have . . .
MIRALDA
I did think of bringing a rather nice aunt. But on the whole I thought it better not to tell anyone.
JOHN BEAL
Not to tell . . .
MIRALDA
No, on the whole I didn’t.
JOHN BEAL
I say, Archie, what are we to do?
ARCHIE BEAL
Here’s Daoud.
[Enter DAOUD.]
JOHN BEAL
The one man I trust in Al Shaldomir!
DAOUD
I have brought two watchers of the
doorstep to guard the noble lady.
JOHN BEAL
He says he’s brought two watchers of the doorstep to look after Miss Clement.
ARCHIE BEAL
Two chaperons! Splendid! She can go
anywhere now.
JOHN BEAL
Well, really, that is better. Yes that will be all right. We can find a room for you now. The trouble was your being alone. I hope you’ll like them. [To DAOUD.] Tell them
to enter here.
DAOUD [beckoning in the doorway]
Ho! Enter!
JOHN BEAL
That’s all right, ARCHIE, isn’t it?
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, that’s all right. A chaperon’s a chaperon, black or white.
JOHN BEAL
You won’t mind their being black, will you, Miss Clement?
MIRALDA
No, I shan’t mind. They can’t be worse than white ones.
[Enter BAZZALOL and THOOTHOOBABA
two enormous Nubians, bearing peacock fans and wearing scimitars. All stare at them. They begin to fan slightly.]
DAOUD
The watchers of the doorstep.
JOHN BEAL
Idiot, Daoud! Fools! Dolts! Men may
not guard a lady’s door.
[BAZZALOL and THOOTHOOBABA smile
ingratiatingly.]
We are not men.
BAZZALOL [bowing]
Curtain
Six and a half years elapse
THE SONG OF THE IRIS MARSHES
When morn is bright on the mountains olden Till dawn is lost in the blaze of day,
When morn is bright and the marshes golden, Where shall the lost lights fade away?
And where, my love, shall we dream to-day?
Dawn is fled to the marshy hollows
Where ghosts of stars in the dimness stray, And the water is streaked with the flash of swallows
And all through summer the iris sway. But where, my love, shall we dream to-day?
When night is black in the iris marshes.
ACT III
SCENE 1
Six and a half years later.
Al Shaldomir.
A room in the palace.
MIRALDA reclines on a heap of cushions, JOHN beside her.
Bazzalol and Thoothoobaba fan them.
OMAR [declaiming to a zither]
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise.
Thou art the theme of all their lays. Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir. . . .
MIRALDA
Go now, Omar.
OMAR
O lady, I depart.
[Exit.]
MIRALDA [languidly]
John, John. I wish you’d marry me.
JOHN
Miralda, you’re thinking of those old customs again that we left behind us seven years ago. What’s the good of it?
MIRALDA
I had a fancy that I wished you would.
JOHN
What’s the good of it? You know you are my beloved. There are none of those
clergymen within hundreds of miles. What’s the good of it?
MIRALDA
We could find one, John.
JOHN
O, yes, I suppose we could, but . . .
MIRALDA
Why won’t you?
JOHN
I told you why.
MIRALDA
O, yes, that instinct that you must not marry. That’s not your reason, John.
JOHN
Yes, it is.
MIRALDA
It’s a silly reason. It’s a crazy reason. It’s no reason at all. There’s some other reason.
JOHN
No, there isn’t. But I feel that in my bones. I don’t know why. You know that
I love none else but you. Besides, we’re never going back, and it doesn’t matter. This isn’t Blackheath.
MIRALDA
So I must live as your slave.
JOHN
No, no, Miralda. My dear, you are not my slave. Did not the singer compare our love to the desire of the nightingale for the evening star? All know that you are my queen.
MIRALDA
They do not know at home.
JOHN
Home? Home? How could they know?
What have we in common with home? Rows and rows of little houses; and if they hear a nightingale there they write to the papers. And–and if they saw this they’d think they were drunk. Miralda, don’t be absurd.
What has set you thinking of home?
MIRALDA
I want to be crowned queen.
JOHN
But I am not a king. I am only Shereef.
MIRALDA
You are all-powerful here, John, you can do what you please, if you wish to. You don’t love me at all.
JOHN
Miralda, you know I love you. Didn’t
I kill Hussein for you?
MIRALDA
Yes, but you don’t love me now.
JOHN
And Hussein’s people killed ARCHIE. That was for you too. I brought my brother out here to help you. He was engaged to be
married, too.
MIRALDA
But you don’t love me now.
JOHN
Yes, I do. I love you as the dawn loves the iris marshes. You know the song they sing. (footnote: poem just before Act III)
MIRALDA
Then why won’t you marry me?
JOHN
I told you, I told you. I had a dream about the future. I forgot the dream, but I know I was not to marry. I will not wrong the future.
MIRALDA
Don’t be crazy.
JOHN
I will have what fancies I please, crazy or sane. Am I not Shereef of Shaldomir? Who dare stop me if I would be mad as Herod?
MIRALDA
I will be crowned queen.
JOHN
It is not my wish.
MIRALDA
I will, I will, I will.
JOHN
Drive me not to anger. If I have you cast into a well and take twenty of the fairest daughters of Al Shaldomir in your place, who can gainsay me?
MIRALDA
I will be crowned queen.
JOHN
O, do not be tiresome.
MIRALDA
Was it not my money that brought you
here? Was it not I who said ” Kill Hussein”? What power could you have had, had
Hussein lived? What would you have been doing now, but for me?
JOHN
I don’t know, Miralda.
MIRALDA
Catching some silly train to the City. Working for some dull firm. Living in some small suburban house. It is I, I, that brought you from all that, and you won’t make me a queen.
JOHN
Is it not enough that you are my beloved? You know there is none other but you. Is it not enough, Miralda?
MIRALDA
It is not enough. I will be queen.
JOHN
Tchah! . . . Miralda, I know you are a wonderful woman, the most wonderful in the East; how you ever came to be in the West I don’t know, and a train of all places; but, Miralda, you must not have petty whims,
they don’t become you.
MIRALDA
Is it a petty whim to wish to be a queen?
JOHN
Yes, when it is only the name you want. You are a queen. You have all you wish for. Are you not my beloved? And have I not
power here over all men? Could I not close the pass?
MIRALDA
I want to be queen.
JOHN
Oh-h! I will leave you. I have more to do than to sit and hear your whims. When I
come back you will have some other whim. Miralda, you have too many whims.
[He rises.]
MIRALDA
Will you be back soon?
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
When will you come back, John?
[She is reclining, looking fair, fanning slightly.]
JOHN
In half an hour.
MIRALDA
In half an hour?
JOHN
Yes.
[Exit.]
MIRALDA
Half an hour.
[Her fan is laid down. She clutches
it with sudden resolve. She goes to the wall, fanning herself slowly. She leans
against it. She fans herself now with obvious deliberation. Three times the
great fan goes pat against the window, and then again separately three times; and
then she puts it against the window once with a smile of ecstasy. She has signalled. She returns to the cushions and reclines with beautiful care, fanning herself softly.
Enter the Vizier, HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN]
HAFIZ
Lady! You bade me come.
MIRALDA
Did I, Hafiz?
HAFIZ
Lady, your fan.
MIRALDA
Ah, I was fanning myself.
HAFIZ
Seven times, lady.
MIRALDA
Ah, was it? Well, now you’re here.
HAFIZ
Lady, O star of these times. O light over lonely marshes. [He kneels by her and
embraces her.] Is the Shereef gone, lady?
MIRALDA
For half an hour, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
How know you for half an hour?
MIRALDA
He said so.
HAFIZ
He said so? Then is the time to fear, if a man say so.
MIRALDA
I know him.
HAFIZ
In our country who knows any man so
much? None.
MIRALDA
He’ll be away for half an hour.
HAFIZ [embracing]
O, exquisite lily of unattainable mountains.
MIRALDA
Ah, Hafiz, would you do a little thing for me?
HAFIZ
I would do all things, lady, O evening star.
MIRANDA
Would you make me a queen, Hafiz?
HAFIZ
If–if the Shereef were gathered?
MIRALDA
Even so, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Lady, I would make you queen of all that lies west of the passes.
MIRANDA
You would make me queen?
HAFIZ
Indeed, before all my wives, before all women, over all Shaldomir, named the elect.
MIRALDA
O, well, Hafiz; then you may kiss me. [HAFIZ does so ad lib.]
Hafiz, the Shereef has irked me.
HAFIZ
Lady, O singing star, to all men is the hour.
MIRALDA
The appointed hour?
HAFIZ
Even the appointed hour, the last, leading to darkness.
MIRALDA
Is it written, think you, that the Shereef’s hour is soon?
HAFIZ
Lady, O dawn’s delight, let there be a banquet. Let the great ones of Shaldomir be bidden there.
MIRALDA
There shall be a banquet, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Soon, O lady. Let it be soon, sole lily of the garden.
MIRALDA
It shall be soon, Hafiz.
[More embraces.]
HAFIZ
And above all, O lady, bid Daoud, the son of the baker.
MIRALDA
He shall be bidden, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
O lady, it is well.
MIRALDA
Go now, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Lady, I go [giving a bag of gold to BAZZALOL]. Silence. Silence. Silence.
BAZZALOL [kneeling]
O, master!
HAFIZ
Let the tomb speak; let the stars cry out; but do you be silent.
BAZZALOL
Aye, master.
HAFIZ [to THOOTHOOBABA]
And you. Though this one speak, yet be silent, or dread the shadow of Hafiz el
Alcolahn.
[He drops a bag of gold.
THOOTHOOBABA goes down and grabs at the gold; his eyes gloat over it.]
THOOTHOOBABA
Master, I speak not. Oh-h-h.
[Exit HAFIZ.
MIRALDA arranges herself on the
cushions. She looks idly at each Nubian. The Nubians put each a finger over his lips and go on fanning with one hand.]
MIRALDA
A queen. I shall look sweet as a queen.
[Enter JOHN. She rises to greet him
caressingly.
Enter DAOUD.]
Oh, you have brought Daoud with you.
JOHN
Why not?
MIRALDA
You know that I don’t like Daoud.
JOHN
I wish to speak with him.
[MIRALDA looks straight at JOHN and
moves away in silence. Exit L.]
JOHN
Daoud.
DAOUD
Great master.
JOHN
Daoud, one day in spring, in the cemetery of those called Blessed, beyond the city’s gates, you swore to me by the graves of both your parents . . . .
DAOUD
Great master, even so I swore.
JOHN
. . . . to be true to me always.
DAOUD
There is no Shereef but my master.
JOHN
Daoud, you have kept your word.
DAOUD
I have sought to, master.
JOHN
You have helped me often, Daoud, warned me and helped me often. Through you I
knew those currents that run through the deeps of the market, in silence and all men feel them, but a ruler never. You told me of them, and when I knew–then I could look after myself, Daoud. They could do nothing against me then. Well, now I hold this
people. I hold them at last, Daoud, and now –well, I can rest a little.
DAOUD
Not in the East, master.
JOHN
Not in the East, Daoud?
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
Why? What do you mean?
DAOUD
In Western countries, master, whose tales I have read, in a wonderful book named the “Good Child’s History of England,” in the West a man hath power over a land, and lo! the power is his and descends to his son’s son after him.
JOHN
Well, doesn’t it in the East?
DAOUD
Not if he does not watch, master; in the night and the day, and in the twilight
between the day and the night, and in the dawn between the night and the day.
JOHN
I thought you had pretty long dynasties in these parts, and pretty lazy ones.
DAOUD
Master, he that was mightiest of those that were kings in Babylon had a secret door
prepared in an inner chamber, which led to a little room, the smallest in the palace, whose back door opened secretly to the river, even to great Euphrates, where a small boat waited all the days of his reign.
JOHN
Did he really now? Well, he was taking no chances. Did he have to use it?
DAOUD
No, master. Such boats are never used. Those that watch like that do not need to seek them, and the others, they would never be able to reach the river in time, even though the boat were there.
JOHN
I shouldn’t like to have to live like that. Why, a river runs by the back of this palace. I suppose palaces usually are on rivers. I’m glad I don’t have to keep a boat there.
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
Well, what is it you are worrying about? Who is it you are afraid of?
DAOUD
Hafiz el Alcolahn.
JOHN
O, Hafiz. I have no fears of Hafiz. Lately I ordered my spies to watch him no longer. Why does he hate me?
DAOUD
Because, most excellent master, you slew Hussein.
JOHN
Slew Hussein? What is that to do with him? May I not slay whom I please?
DAOUD
Even so, master. Even so. But he was
Hussein’s enemy.
JOHN
His enemy, eh?
DAOUD
For years he had dreamed of the joy of killing Hussein.
JOHN
Well, he should have done it before I came. We don’t hang over things and brood over them for years where I come from. If a
thing’s to be done, it’s done.
DAOUD
Even so, master. Hafiz had laid his plans for years. He would have killed him and got his substance; and then, when the hour drew near, you came, and Hussein died, swiftly, not as Hafiz would have had him die; and lo! thou art the lord of the pass, and Hafiz is no more than a beetle that runs about in the dirt.
JOHN
Well, so you fear Hafiz?
DAOUD
Not for himself, master. Nay, I fear not Hafiz. But, master, hast thou seen when the thunder is coming, but no rumble is heard and the sky is scarce yet black, how little winds run in the grass and sigh and die; and the flower beckons a moment with its head; all the world full of whispers, master, all saying nothing; then the lightning, master, and the anger of God; and men say it came
without warning? [Simply.] I hear those things coming, master.
JOHN
Well?
DAOUD
Master, it is all silent in the market. Once, when the price of turquoises was high, men abused the Shereef. When the merchant men could not sell their pomegranates for silver they abused the Shereef. It is men’s way, master, men’s way. Now it is all silent in the market. It is like the grasses with the idle winds, that whisper and sigh and die away; like the flowers beckoning to nothing. And so, master, and so . . . .
JOHN
I see, you fear some danger.
DAOUD
I fear it, master.
JOHN
What danger, Daoud?
DAOUD
Master, I know not.
JOHN
From what quarter, Daoud?
DAOUD
O master, O sole Lord of Al Shaldomir, named the elect, from that quarter.
JOHN
That quarter? Why, that is the gracious lady’s innermost chamber.
DAOUD
From that quarter, great master, O Lord of the Pass.
JOHN
Daoud, I have cast men into prison for saying less than this. Men have been flogged on the feet for less than this.
DAOUD
Slay me, master, but hear my words.
JOHN
I will not slay you. You are mistaken, Daoud. You have made a great mistake.
The thing is absurd. Why, the gracious lady has scarcely seen Hafiz. She knows nothing of the talk of the market. Who could tell her? No one comes here. It is absurd. Only the other day she said to me . . . But it is absurd, it is absurd, Daoud. Besides, the people would never rebel against me. Do I not govern them well?
DAOUD
Even so, master.
JOHN
Why should they rebel, then?
DAOUD
They think of the old times, master.
JOHN
The old times? Why, their lives weren’t safe. The robbers came down from the
mountains and robbed the market whenever they had a mind.
DAOUD
Master, men were content in the old times.
JOHN
But were the merchants content?
DAOUD
Those that loved merchandise were
content, master. Those that loved it not went into the mountains.
JOHN
But were they content when they were robbed?
DAOUD
They soon recovered their losses, master. Their prices were unjust and they loved usury.
JOHN
And were the people content with unjust prices?
DAOUD
Some were, master, as men have to be in all countries. The others went into the
mountains and robbed the merchants.
JOHN
I see.
DAOUD
But now, master, a man robs a merchant and he is cast into prison. Now a man is slain in the market and his son, his own son, master, may not follow after the aggressor and slay him and burn his house. They are ill-content, master. No man robs the
merchants, no man slays them, and the merchants’ hearts are hardened and they oppress all men.
JOHN
I see. They don’t like good government?
DAOUD
They sigh for the old times, master.
JOHN
I see; I see. In spite of all I have done for them, they want their old bad government back again.
DAOUD
It is the old way, master.
JOHN
Yes, yes. And so they would rebel. Well, we must watch. You have warned me once
again, Daoud, and I am grateful. But you are wrong, Daoud, about the gracious lady. You are mistaken. It is impossible. You are mistaken, Daoud. I know it could not be.
DAOUD
I am mistaken, master. Indeed, I am
mistaken. Yet, watch. Watch, master.
JOHN
Well, I will watch.
DAOUD
And, master, if ever I come to you bearing oars, then watch no longer, master, but follow me through the banquet chamber and through the room beyond it. Move as the wild deer move when there is danger, without pausing, without wondering, without turning round; for in that hour, master, in that hour . . . .
JOHN
Through the room beyond the banquet
chamber, Daoud?
DAOUD
Aye, master, following me.
JOHN
But there is no door beyond, Daoud.
DAOUD
Master, I have prepared a door.
JOHN
A door, Daoud?
DAOUD
A door none wots of, master.
JOHN
Whither does it lead?
DAOUD
To a room that you know not of, a little room; you must stoop, master.
JOHN
O, and then?
DAOUD
To the river, master.
JOHN
The river! But there’s no boat there.
DAOUD
Under the golden willow, master.
JOHN
A boat?
DAOUD
Even so, under the branches.
JOHN
Is it come to that? . . . No, Daoud, all this is unnecessary. It can’t come to that.
DAOUD
If ever I come before you bearing two oars, in that hour, master, it is necessary.
JOHN
But you will not come. It will never come to that.
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
A wise man can stop things before they get as far as that.
DAOUD
They that were kings in Babylon were wise men, master.
JOHN
Babylon! But that was thousands of
years ago.
DAOUD
Man changes not, master.
JOHN
Well, Daoud, I will trust you, and if it ever comes to that . . .
[Enter MIRALDA.]
MIRALDA
I thought Daoud was gone.
DAOUD
Even now I go, gracious lady.
[Exit DAOUD. Rather strained silence
with JOHN and MIRALDA till he goes. She goes and retakes herself comfortable on the cushions. He is not entirely at ease.]
MIRALDA
You had a long talk with Daoud.
JOHN
Yes, he came and talked a good deal.
MIRALDA
What about?
JOHN
O, just talk; you know these Eastern
people.
MIRALDA
I thought it was something you were
discussing with him.
JOHN
O, no.
MIRALDA
Some important secret.
JOHN
No, not at all.
MIRALDA
You often talk with Daoud.
JOHN
Yes, he is useful to me. When he talks sense I listen, but to-day . . .
MIRALDA
What did he come for to-day?
JOHN
O, nothing.
MIRALDA
You have a secret with Daoud that you will not share with me.
JOHN
No, I have not.
MIRALDA
What was it he said?
JOHN
He said there was a king in Babylon who . . .
[DAOUD slips into the room.]
MIRALDA
In Babylon? What has that to do with
us?
JOHN
Nothing. I told you he was not talking sense.
MIRALDA
Well, what did he say?
JOHN
He said that in Babylon . . .
DAOUD
Hist!
JOHN
O, well . . .
[MIRALDA glares, but calms herself
and says nothing.
Exit DAOUD.]
MIRALDA
What did Daoud say of Babylon?
JOHN
O, well, as you say, it had nothing to do with us.
MIRALDA
But I wish to hear it.
JOHN
I forget.
[For a moment there is silence.]
MIRALDA
John, John. Will you do a little thing for me?
JOHN
What is it?
MIRALDA
Say you will do it, John. I should love to have one of my little wishes granted.
JOHN
What is it?
MIRALDA
Kill Daoud, John. I want you to kill Daoud.
JOHN
I will not.
[He walks up and down in front of the two Nubians in silence. She plucks
petulantly at a pillow. She suddenly calms herself. A light comes into her eyes. The Nubians go on fanning. JOHN goes on
pacing.]
MIRALDA
John, John, I have forgotten my foolish fancies.
JOHN
I am glad of it.
MIRALDA
I do not really wish you to kill Daoud.
JOHN [same voice]
I’m glad you don’t.
MIRALDA
I have only one fancy now, John.
JOHN
Well, what is it?
MIRALDA
Give a banquet, John. I want you to give a banquet.
JOHN
A banquet? Why?
MIRALDA
Is there any harm in my fancy?
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
Then if I may not be a queen, and if you will not kill Daoud for me, give a banquet, John. There is no harm in a banquet.
JOHN
Very well. When do you want it?
MIRALDA
To-morrow, John. Bid all the great ones to it, all the illustrious ones in Al Shaldomir.
JOHN
Very well.
MIRALDA
And bid Daoud come.
JOHN
Daoud? You asked me to kill him.
MIRALDA
I do not wish that any longer, John.
JOHN
You have queer moods, Miralda.
MIRALDA
May I not change my moods, John?
JOHN
I don’t know. I don’t understand them.
MIRALDA
And ask Hafiz el Alcolahn, John.
JOHN
Hafiz? Why?
MIRALDA
I don’t know, John. It was just my fancy.
JOHN
Your fancy, eh?
MIRALDA
That was all.
JOHN
Then I will ask him. Have you any other fancy?
MIRALDA
Not now, John.
JOHN
Then go, Miralda.
MIRALDA
Go?
JOHN
Yes.
MIRALDA
Why?
JOHN
Because I command it.
MIRALDA
Because you command it?
JOHN
Yes, I, the Shereef Al Shaldomir.
MIRALDA
Very well.
[Exit L.
He walks to the door to see that she is really gone. He comes back to centre and stands with back to audience, pulling a
cord quietly from his pocket and arranging it.
He moves half left and comes up behind BAZZALOL. Suddenly he slips the cord
over BAZZALOL’s head, and tightens it round his neck.]
[BAZZALOL flops on his knees.
THOOTHOOBABA goes on fanning.]
JOHN
Speak!
[BAZZALOL is silent.
JOHN tightens it more. THOOTHOOBABA
goes on quietly fanning.]
BAZZALOL
I cannot.
JOHN
If you would speak, raise your left hand. If you raise your left hand and do not speak you shall die.
[BAZZALOL is silent. JOHN tightens
more. BAZZALOL raises his great flabby left hand high. JOHN releases the cord.
BAZZALOL blinks and moves his mouth.]
BAZZALOL
Gracious Shereef, one visited the great lady and gave us gold, saying, “Speak not.”
JOHN
When?
BAZZALOL
Great master, one hour since.
JOHN [a little viciously]
Who?
BAZZALOL
O heaven-sent, he was Hafiz el Alcolahn.
JOHN
Give me the gold.
[BAZZALOL gives it.]
[To THOOTHOOBABA.] Give me the
gold.
THOOTHOOBABA
Master, none gave me gold.
[John touches his dagger, and looks like using it.
THOOTHOOBABA gives it.]
JOHN
Take back your gold. Be silent about this. You too.
[He throws gold to BAZZALOL.]
Gold does not make you silent, but there is a thing that does. What is that thing?
Speak. What thing makes you silent?
BAZZALOL
O, great master, it is death.
JOHN
Death, eh? And how will you die if you speak? You know how you will die?
BAZZALOL
Yes, heaven-sent.
JOHN
Tell your comrade, then.
BAZZALOL
We shall be eaten, great master.
JOHN
You know by what?
BAZZALOL
Small things, great master, small things. Oh-h-h-h. Oh-h-h.
[THOOTHOOBABA’s knees scarcely hold
him.]
JOHN
It is well.
Curtain
SCENE 2
A small street. Al Shaldomir.
Time: Next day.
[Enter L. the SHEIK OF THE
BISHAREENS.
He goes to an old green door, pointed of course in the Arabic way.]
SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS
Ho, Bishareens!
[The BISHAREENS run on.]
SHEIK
It is the place and the hour.
BISHAREENS
Ah, ah!
SHEIK [to FIRST BISHAREEN]
Watch.
[FIRST BISHAREEN goes to right and
watches up sunny street.]