by Edward Plunkett

“ They shall grind him into the earth and trample him under, as though he had not been. The uttermost parts have feared the gods of the English. They reach out, they destroy, there is no escape from them. Be warned; for I do not permit any to stand against me. The laws that I have given you, you shall keep; there shall be no other laws. Whoso murmurs shall know my wrath and the wrath of my gods. Take heed, I speak not twice. I spoke once to Hussein. Hussein heard not; and Hussein is dead, his ears are closed for ever. Hear, O people.
HAFIZ
O Shereef, we murmur not against you. ”

“ 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? ”

“ When I sleep in my inner chamber my ear is in the market, while I sit at meat I hear men whisper far hence and know their innermost thoughts. Hope not to overcome me by your plans nor by any manner of craftiness. My gods are gods of brass; none have escaped them. They cannot be overthrown. Of all men they favour my people. Their hands reach out to the uttermost ends of the earth. Take heed, for my gods are terrible. I am the Shereef ”

“ Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, Birds sing thy praises night and day; The nightingale in every wood, Blackbirds in fields profound with may; Birds sing of thee by every way. Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, My heart is ringing with thee still Though far away, O fairy fields, My soul flies low by every hill And misses not one daffodil. Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, O mother of my roving dreams Blue is the night above thy spires And blue by myriads of streams Paradise through thy gateway gleams. ”

“ Death is the punishment for what you do, Hafiz. You have dared while I spoke. Hafiz, your contempt is death. Go to Hussein. I, the king . . . say it.
[DAOUD has entered R., bearing two oars. DAOUD walks across, not looking at JOHN. Exit by small door in L. near back.
JOHN gives one look at the banqueters, then he follows DAOUD. Exit.
All look astonished. Some rise and peer. HAFIZ draws his knife.]
OMAR [singing]
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir, The nightingales that guard thy ways Cease not to give thee, after God And after Paradise, all praise,
CRIES [off]
Kill the unbeliever. Kill the dog. ”

“ He coming, master! Coming!
ZABNOOL
Poolyana, Poolyana, Poolyana. Stay down, stay down, Poolyana. Stay down in nice warm hell, Poolyana. The Shereef want no devil to-day.
[ZABNOOL before speaking returns to centre and pats air over ground where handkerchief lies.
Then SHABEESH and ZABNOOL come together side by side and bow and smile together toward the SHEREEF. Gold is thrown to them, which ZABNOOL gathers and hands to SHABEESH, who gives a share back to ZABNOOL.]
A NOTABLE
The Shereef is silent. ”

“ 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. ”

“ You laugh at poor conjuring man. You send him lil rabbit to eat big crocodile. Bad Poolyana. Bad Poolyana.
[Whacks ground with stick.]
You plenty bad devil, Poolyana.
[Whacking it again. Handkerchief has been thrown on ground again. Handkerchief stirs slightly.]
No, no, Poolyana. You not bad devil. You not bad devil. You plenty good devil, Poolyana. No, no, no! Poor conjuring man quite happy on muddy earth. No, Poolyana, no! O, no, no, devil. O, no, no! Hell plenty nice place for devil. Master! He not my devil! He other man's devil! ”

“ 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 ”

“ Very bad man go away. Go away, bad man: go away, bad man. Poolyana not want bad man: Poolyana only work for good man. He mighty fine devil. Poolyana, Poolyana. Big, black, fine, furry devil. Poolyana, Poolyana, Poolyana. ”