Chapter 3Scene 2

A room in Almuene’s house. Almuene, Khatoon. KHATOON You have indulged the boy till he has lost The likeness even of manhood. God’s great stamp And heavenly image on his mint’s defaced, Rubbed out, and only the brute metal left Which never shall find currency again Among his angels. ALMUENE Oh always clamour, clamour! I had been happier bedded with a slave Whom I could beat to sense when she was froward. KHATOON Oh, you’ld have done no less by me, I know, Although my rank’s as far above your birth As some white star in heaven o’erpeers the muck Of foulest stables, had I not great kin And swords in the background to avenge me. ALMUENE Termagant, Some day I’ll have you stripped and soundly caned By your own women, if you grow not gentler. KHATOON I shall be glad some day to find your courage. Enter Fareed, jumping and gyrating.

The Viziers of Bassora FAREED Oh father, father, father, father, father! KHATOON What means this idiot clamour? Senseless child, Can you not walk like some more human thing Or talk like one at least? ALMUENE Dame, check once more My gallant boy, try once again to break His fine and natural spirit with your chidings, I’ll drive your teeth in, lady or no lady. FAREED Do, father, break her teeth! She’s always scolding. Sometimes she beats me when you’re out. Do break them, I shall so laugh! ALMUENE My gamesome goblin! KHATOON You prompt him To hate his mother; but do not lightly think The devil you strive to raise up from that hell Which lurks within us all, sealed commonly By human shame and Allah’s supreme grace, — But you! you scrape away the seal, would take The full flame of the inferno, not the gusts Of smoke jet out in ordinary men; — Think not this imp will limit with his mother Unnatural revolt! You will repent this. Exit. FAREED Girl, father! such a girl! a girl of girls!

Act I, Scene 2 Buy me my girl! ALMUENE What girl, you leaping madcap? FAREED In the slave-market for ten thousand pieces. Such hands! such eyes! such hips! such legs! I am Impatient till my elbows meet around her. ALMUENE My amorous wagtail! What, my pretty hunchback, You have your trophies too among the girls No less than the straight dainty Nureddene, Our Vizier’s pride? Ay, you have broken seals? You have picked locks, my burglar? FAREED You have given me, You and my mother, such a wicked hump To walk about with, the girls jeer at me. I have only a chance with blind ones. ’Tis a shame. ALMUENE How will you make your slavegirl love you, hunch? FAREED She’ll be my slavegirl and she’ll have to love me. ALMUENE Whom would you marry, hunchback, for a wager? Will the King’s daughter tempt you? FAREED Pooh! I’ve got My eye upon my uncle’s pretty niece. I like her.

The Viziers of Bassora ALMUENE The Vizier, my peculiar hatred! Wagtail, you must not marry there. FAREED I hate him too And partly for that cause will marry her, To beat her twice a day and let him know it. He will be grieved to the heart. ALMUENE You’re my own lad. FAREED And then she’s such a nice tame pretty thing, Will sob and tremble, kiss me when she’s told, Not like my mother, frown, scold, nag all day. But, dad, my girl! buy me my girl! ALMUENE Come, wagtail. Ten thousand pieces! ’tis exorbitant. Two thousand, not a dirham more. The seller Does wisely if he takes it, glad to get A piastre for her. Call the slaves, Fareed. FAREED Hooray! hoop! what a time I’ll have! Cafoor! Exit, calling. ALMUENE ’Tis thus a boy should be trained up, not checked, Rebuked and punished till the natural man Is killed in him and a tame virtuous block Replace the lusty pattern Nature made. I do not value at a brazen coin The man who has no vices in his blood,

Act I, Scene 2 Never took toll of women’s lips in youth Nor warmed his nights with wine. Your moralists Teach one thing, Nature quite another; which of these Is likely to be right? Yes, cultivate, But on the plan that she has mapped. Give way, Give way to the inspired blood of youth And you shall have a man, no scrupulous fool, No ethical malingerer in the fray; A man to lord it over other men, Soldier or Vizier or adventurous merchant, The breed of Samson. Man with such youth your armies. Of such is an imperial people made Who send their colonists and conquerors Across the world, till the wide earth contains One language only and a single rule. Yes, Nature is your grand imperialist, No moral sermonizer. Rude, hardy stocks Transplant themselves, expand, outlast the storms And heat and cold, not slips too gently nurtured Or lapped in hothouse warmth. Who conquered earth For Islam? Arabs trained in robbery, Heroes, robust in body and desire. I’ll get this slavegirl for Fareed to help His education on. Be lusty, son, And breed me grandsons like you for my stock. Exit.