Chapter 6Act II, Scene 1

Act II Bassora. Scene 1 Ibn Sawy’s house. An upper chamber in the women’s apartments. Doonya, Anice-aljalice. DOONYA You living sweet romance, you come from Persia. ’Tis there, I think, they fall in love at sight? ANICE But will you help me, Doonya, will you help me? To him, to him, not to that grizzled King! I am near Heaven with Hell that’s waiting for me. DOONYA I know, I know! you feel as I would, child, If told that in ten days I had to marry My cruel boisterous cousin. I will help you. But strange! to see him merely pass and love him! Did he look back at you? ANICE While he could see me. DOONYA Yes, that was Nureddene.

The Viziers of Bassora ANICE You’ll help me? DOONYA Yes, With all my heart and soul and brains and body. But how? My uncle’s orders are so strict! ANICE And do you always heed your uncle’s orders, You dutiful niece? DOONYA Rigidly, when they suit me. It shall be done although my punishment Were even to wed Fareed. But who can say When he’ll come home? ANICE Comes he not daily then? DOONYA When he’s not hawking. Questing, child, for doves, White doves. ANICE I’ll stop all that when he is mine. DOONYA Will you? and yet I think you will, nor find it A task at all. You can do it? ANICE I will. DOONYA You have relieved my conscience of a load.

Act II, Scene 1 Who blames me? I do this to reform my cousin, Gravely, deliberately, with serious thought, And am quite virtuously disobedient. I almost feel a long white beard upon my chin, The thing’s so wise and sober. Gravely, gravely! She marches out, solemnly stroking an imaginary beard. ANICE My heart beats reassuringly within. The destined Prince will come and all bad spells Be broken; then — You angels up in Heaven Who guard sweet shame and woman’s modesty, Hide deep your searching eyes with those bright wings. It is not wantonness, though in a slave Permitted, spurs me forward. O tonight Let sleep your pens, in your rebuking volumes Record not this. I am on such a brink, A hound of horror baying at my heels, I cannot pause to think what fire of blushes I choose to flee through, nor how safe cold eyes May censure me. I pass though I should burn. You cannot bid me pick my careful steps! Oh, no, the danger is too near. I run By the one road that’s left me, to escape, To escape, into the very arms I love. Curtain