Chapter 21Act V, Scene 1

Act V

Bassora and Bagdad.

Scene 1 A room in Almuene’s house. Almuene, Fareed.

FAREED You’ll give me money, dad?

ALMUENE

You spend too much. We’ll talk of it another time. Now leave me.

FAREED You’ll give me money?

ALMUENE

Go; I’m out of temper.

FAREED (dancing round him) Give money, money, money, give me money.

ALMUENE You boil, do you too grow upon me? There. (strikes him)

FAREED You have struck me!

ALMUENE

Why, you would have it. Go. You shall have money.

FAREED

How much?

ALMUENE

Quite half your asking. Send me a cup of water.

FAREED

Oh yes, I’ll send it. You’ll strike me then?

Exit.

ALMUENE

Young Nureddene’s evasion Troubles me at the heart; ’twill not dislodge. And Murad too walks closely with the King, Who whispers to him, whispers, whispers. What? Is’t of my ruin? No, he needs me yet. And Ibn Sawy’s coming soon. But there I’ve triumphed. He will have a meagre profit Of his long work in Roum, — the headsman’s axe.

Enter a Slave with a cup of water. Here set it down and wait. ’Tis not so bad. I’ll have their Doonya yet for my Fareed.

Enter Khatoon, dragging in Fareed.

KHATOON He has not drunk it yet.

FAREED

Why do you drag me, You naughty woman? I will bite your fingers.

KHATOON O imp of Hell! Touch not the water, Vizier.

ALMUENE What’s this?

KHATOON

This brat whose soul you’ve disproportioned Out of all nature, turns upon you now. There’s poison in that cup.

ALMUENE

Unnatural mother, What is this hatred that thou hast, to slander The issue of thy womb?

FAREED

She hates me, dad. Drink off the cup to show her how you love me.

KHATOON What, art thou weary of thy life? Give rather The water to a dog, and see.

ALMUENE

Go, slave, And make some negro drink it off.

Exit Slave.

Woman, What I have promised often, thou shalt have, — The scourge.

KHATOON

That were indeed my right reward For saving such a life as thine. Oh, God Will punish me for it.

ALMUENE

Thou tongue! I’ll strike thee.

As he lifts his hand, the slave returns.

SLAVE Oh, sir, almost before it touched his throat, He fell in fierce convulsions. He is dead.

ALMUENE Fareed!

FAREED You’ll strike me, will you? You’ll give half My askings, no? I wish you’d drunk it off; I’ld have rare spendings!

He runs out.

ALMUENE

God!

KHATOON

Will you not scourge me?

ALMUENE Leave me.

Exit Khatoon.

What is this horrible surprise, Beneath whose shock I stagger? Is my term Exhausted? But I would have done as much, Had I been struck. It is his gallant spirit, His lusty blood that will not bear a blow. I must appease him. If my own blood should end me! He shall have money, all that he can ask.

Exit.