Chapter 20Scene 4

Inside the Pavilion. Nureddene, Anice, Shaikh Ibrahim. NUREDDENE Shaikh Ibrahim, verily, thou art drunk. IBRAHIM Alas, alas, my dear son, my own young friend! I am damned, verily, verily, I am damned. Ah, my sweet lovely young father! Ah, my pious learned white-bearded mother! That they could see their son now, their pretty little son! But they are in their graves; they are in their cold, cold, cold graves. NUREDDENE Oh, thou art most pathetically drunk. Sing, Anice. OUTSIDE Fish! fish! sweet fried fish! ANICE Fish! Shaikh Ibrahim, Shaikh Ibrahim! hearest thou? We have a craving for fish. IBRAHIM ’Tis Satan in thy little stomach who calleth hungrily for sweet fried fish. Silence, thou preposterous devil! ANICE Fie, Shaikh, is my stomach outside me, under the window? Call him in.

The Viziers of Bassora IBRAHIM Ho! ho! come in, Satan! come in, thou brimstone fisherman. Let us see thy long tail. Enter Haroun. ANICE What fish have you, good fisherman? HAROUN I have very honest good fish, my sweet lady, and I have fried them for you with my own hand. These fish, — why, all I can say of them is, they are fish. But they are well fried. NUREDDENE Set them on a plate. What wilt thou have for them? HAROUN Why, for such faces as you have, I will honestly ask nothing. NUREDDENE Then wilt thou dishonestly ask for a trifle more than they are worth. Swallow me these denars. HAROUN Now Allah give thee a beard! for thou art a generous youth. ANICE Fie, fisherman, what a losing blessing is this, to kill the thing for which thou blessest him! If Allah give him a beard, he will be no longer a youth, and for the generosity, it will be Allah’s. HAROUN Art thou as witty as beautiful? ANICE By Allah, that am I. I tell thee very modestly that there is not my equal from China to Frangistan.

Act IV, Scene 4 HAROUN Thou sayest no more than truth. NUREDDENE What is your name, fisherman? HAROUN I call myself Kareem and, in all honesty, when I fish, ’tis for the Caliph. IBRAHIM Who talks of the Caliph? Dost thou speak of the Caliph Haroun or the Caliph Ibrahim? HAROUN I speak of the Caliph, Haroun the Just, the great and only Caliph. IBRAHIM Oh, Haroun? He is fit only to be a gardener, a poor witless fellow without brains to dress himself with, yet Allah hath made him Caliph. While there are others — but ’tis no use talking. A very profligate tyrant, this Haroun! He has debauched half the women in Bagdad and will debauch the other half, if they let him live. Besides, he cuts off a man’s head when the nose on it does not please him. A very pestilence of a tyrant! HAROUN Now Allah save him! IBRAHIM Nay, let Allah save his soul if He will and if ’tis worth saving; but I fear me ’twill be a tough job for Allah. If it were not for my constant rebukes and admonitions and predications and pestrigiddi — prestigidgidi — what the plague! pestidigitations; and some slaps and cuffs, of which I pray you speak very low, he

The Viziers of Bassora would be worse even than he is. Well, well, even Allah blunders; verily, verily! ANICE Wilt thou be Caliph, Shaikh Ibrahim? IBRAHIM Yes, my jewel, and thou shalt be my Zobeidah. And we will tipple, beauty, we will tipple. HAROUN And Haroun? IBRAHIM I will be generous and make him my under-kitchen-gardener’s second vice-sub-under-assistant. I would gladly give him a higher post, but, verily, he is not fit. HAROUN (laughing) What an old treasonous rogue art thou, Shaikh Ibrahim! IBRAHIM What? who? Thou art not Satan, but Kareem the fisherman? Didst thou say I was drunk, thou supplier of naughty houses? Verily, I will tug thee by the beard, for thou liest. Verily, verily! NUREDDENE Shaikh Ibrahim! Shaikh Ibrahim! IBRAHIM Nay, if thou art the angel Gabriel and forbiddest me, let be; but I hate lying and liars. NUREDDENE Fisherman, is thy need here over?

Act IV, Scene 4 HAROUN I pray you, let me hear this young lady sing; for indeed ’twas the sweet voice of her made me fry fish for you. NUREDDENE Oblige the good fellow, Anice; he has a royal face for his fishing. IBRAHIM Sing! ’tis I will sing: there is no voice like mine in Bagdad. (sings) When I was a young man, I’d a very good plan; Every maid that I met, In my lap I would set, What mattered her age or her colour? But now I am old And the girls, they grow cold And my heartstrings, they ache At the faces they make, And my dancing is turned into dolour. A very sweet song! a very sad song! Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. ’Tis just, ’tis just. Ah me! well-a-day! Verily, verily! ANICE I pray you, Shaikh Ibrahim, be quiet. I would sing. IBRAHIM Sing, my jewel, sing, my gazelle, sing, my lady of kisses. Verily, I would rise up and buss thee, could I but find my legs. I know not why they have taken them from me. ANICE (sings) Song Heart of mine, O heart impatient, Thou must learn to wait and weep.

The Viziers of Bassora Wherefore wouldst thou go on beating When I bade thee hush and sleep? Thou who wert of life so fain, Didst thou know not, life was pain? HAROUN O voice of angels! Who art thou, young man, And who this sweet-voiced wonder? Let me hear; Tell me thy story. NUREDDENE I am a man chastised For my own errors, yet unjustly. Justice I seek from the great Caliph. Leave us, fisherman. HAROUN Tell me thy story. Walk apart with me. It may be I can help thee. NUREDDENE Leave us, I pray thee. Thou, a poor fisherman! HAROUN I vow I’ll help thee. NUREDDENE Art thou the Caliph? HAROUN If I were, by chance? NUREDDENE If thou art as pressing with the fish as me, There’s a good angler. Exit with Haroun.

Act IV, Scene 4 ANICE Will you not have some of this fish, Shaikh Ibrahim? ’Tis a sweet fish. IBRAHIM Indeed thou art a sweet fish, but somewhat overdone. Thou hast four lovely eyes and two noses wonderfully fine with just the right little curve at the end; ’tis a hook to hang my heart upon. But, verily, there are two of them and I know not what to do with the other; I have only one heart, beauty. O Allah, Thou hast darkened my brain with wine, and wilt Thou damn me afterwards? ANICE Nay, if thou wilt misuse my nose for a peg, I have done with thee. My heart misgives me strangely. Enter Nureddene. NUREDDENE He’s writing out a letter. ANICE Surely, my lord, This is no ordinary fisherman. If ’twere the Caliph? NUREDDENE The old drunkard knew him For Kareem and a fisherman. Dear Anice, Let not our dreams delude us. Life is harsh, Dull-tinted, not so kindly as our wishes, Nor half so beautiful. Enter Haroun. HAROUN He is not fit To be a King.

The Viziers of Bassora NUREDDENE Nor ever was. ’Tis late. HAROUN Giv’st thou no gift at parting? NUREDDENE You’re a fisher! (opens his purse) HAROUN Nothing more valuable? ANICE Wilt take this ring? HAROUN No; give me what I ask. NUREDDENE Yes, by the Prophet, Because thou hast a face. HAROUN Give me thy slavegirl. There is a silence. NUREDDENE Thou hast entrapped me, fisherman. ANICE Is it a jest? HAROUN Thou sworest by the Prophet, youth. NUREDDENE Tell me,

Act IV, Scene 4 Is it for ransom? I have nothing left In all the world but her and these few pieces. HAROUN She pleases me. ANICE O wretch! NUREDDENE Another time I would have slain thee. But now I feel ’tis God Has snared my feet with dire calamities, And have no courage. HAROUN Dost thou give her to me? NUREDDENE Take her, if Heaven will let thee. Angel of God, Avenging angel, wert thou lying in wait for me In Bagdad? ANICE Leave me not, O leave me not. It is a jest, it must, it shall be a jest. God will not suffer it. HAROUN I mean thee well. ANICE Thy doing’s damnable. O man, O man, Art thou a devil straight from Hell, or art thou A tool of Almuene’s to torture us? Will you leave me, my lord, and never kiss?

The Viziers of Bassora NUREDDENE Thou art his; I cannot touch thee. HAROUN Kiss her once. NUREDDENE Tempt me not; if my lips grow near to hers, Thou canst not live. Farewell. HAROUN Where art thou bound? NUREDDENE To Bassora. HAROUN That is, to death? NUREDDENE Even so. HAROUN Yet take this letter with thee to the Sultan. NUREDDENE Man, what have I to do with thee or letters? HAROUN Hear me, fair youth. Thy love is sacred to me And will be safe as in her father’s house. Take thou this letter. Though I seem a fisherman, I was the Caliph’s friend and schoolfellow, His cousin of Bassora’s too, and it may help thee. NUREDDENE I know not who thou art, nor if this scrap

Act IV, Scene 4 Of paper has the power thou babblest of, And do not greatly care. Life without her Is not to be thought of. Yet thou giv’st me something I’ld once have dared call hope. She will be safe? HAROUN As my own child, or as the Caliph’s. NUREDDENE I’ll go play At pitch and toss with death in Bassora. Exit. IBRAHIM Kareem, thou evil fisherman, thou unjust seller, thou dishonest dicer, thou beastly womanizer! hast thou given me stinking fish not worth a dirham and thinkest to take away my slavegirl? Verily, I will tug thy beard for her. He seizes Haroun by the beard. HAROUN (throwing him off) Out! Hither to me, Vizier Jaafar. (Enter Jaafar.) Hast thou my robe? He changes his dress. JAAFAR How dost thou, Shaikh Ibrahim? Fie, thou smellest of that evil thing, even the accurs`ed creature, wine. IBRAHIM O Satan, Satan, dost thou come to me in the guise of Jaafar, the Persian, the Shiah, the accurs`ed favourer of Gnosticism and heresies, the evil and bibulous Vizier? Avaunt, and return not save with a less damnable face. O thou inconsiderate fiend! HAROUN Damsel, lift up thy head. I am the Caliph.

The Viziers of Bassora ANICE What does it matter who you are? My heart, my heart! HAROUN Thou art bewildered. Rise! I am the Caliph Men call the Just. Thou art as safe with me As my own daughter. I have sent thy lord To be a king in Bassora, and thee I will send after him with precious robes, Fair slavegirls, noble gifts. Possess thy heart Once more, be glad. ANICE O just and mighty Caliph! HAROUN Shaikh Ibrahim. IBRAHIM Verily, I think thou art the Caliph, and, verily, I think I am drunk. HAROUN Verily, thou hast told the truth twice, and it is a wonder. But verily, verily, thou shalt be punished. Thou hast been kind to the boy and his sweetheart, therefore I will not take from thee thy life or thy post in the gardens, and I will forgive thee for tugging the beard of the Lord’s anointed. But thy hypocrisies and blasphemies are too rank to be forgiven. Jaafar, have a man with him constantly and wine before his eyes; but if he drink so much as a thimbleful, let it be poured by gallons into his stomach. Have in beautiful women constantly before him and if he once raise his eyes above their anklets, shave him clean and sell him into the most severe and Puritan house in Bagdad. Nay, I will reform thee, old sinner.

Act IV, Scene 4 IBRAHIM Oh, her lips! her sweet lips! JAAFAR You speak to a drunken man, my lord. HAROUN Tomorrow bring him before me when he’s sober. Exeunt.