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_ ACT II - SCENE I
A great room. To the left three arches lead out onto the balcony where the personages CALIPH, JAFAR and HOST are collected. The interior of the room is blazing with lights, but empty. The architecture of the room is curious on account of the wide, low arches which cut off a square in the centre. The furniture of the room is in rich, rather vulgar Oriental taste.
CALIPH.
Ishak, Ishak, we are waiting and waiting.
JAFAR.
Ishak! Ishak! Perhaps he is faint.
CALIPH.
Faint!
JAFAR.
Let me go down and see what he is doing. I think I hear him talking.
CALIPH.
He is talking to shadows. He has one of his evil fits
tonight. Do not trouble your head or mine about him.
He presumes on our friendship, and forgets the respect
due to us. Am I to be kept waiting like a Jew
in a court of justice, I the Master...
JAFAR.
(Quickly)
We are not in Basra, Sir. But see, the rope has tightened.
(To MASRUR.)
Haul, thou whose soul is white.
RAFI.
(Helping with ropes to CALIPH who stands idle)
God restore to you the use of your
arms, my brother from Basra.
(HASSAN rolls out of the basket, filthy and the inanimate.)
Yallah, Yallah, on what dunghill did this fowl die?
Is this your man of honour?
JAFAR.
(Astonished)
Host of the house, this is not our companion,
and we have never set eyes on him before.
RAFI.
Then what is this?
CALIPH.
Our friend has played a trick on us--may Allah separate him
from salvation!--and sent up this body in place of himself.
Come let us tip it out into the street.
RAFI.
(Feeling HASSAN'S pulse)
Wait; this man is by no means dead,
and the mill of his heart still grinds the flour of life.
Ho, Alder!
(Enter ALDER, a young and pretty page.)
ALDER.
At his master's service.
RAFI.
Ho, Willow!
WILLOW.
(Younger still)
At his lord's order.
RAFI.
Juniper!
JUNIPER.
At his Pasha's command.
RAFI.
Tamarisk!
TAMARISK.
(A little boy a with a squeaky voice)
At his Sublimity's feet.
CALIPH.
(Aside to JAFAR)
Truly, this is charming:
an illustrious example of decorum and good taste.
RAFI.
Transform this into a man, my slaves.
Revive him, bathe, soap, scent, comb him,
clothe him with a ceremonial coat
and bring him back to us.
ALDER.
We hear,
WILLOW.
We honour,
JUNIPER.
We tremble,
TAMARISK.
and obey.
CALIPH.
(Entering the great room of the house)
Thy house is of grand proportions and eccentric
architecture, my Host; it is astonishing that
such a house should look out on to so mean a street.
RAFI.
It is an old house where the Manichees
(the devil roast all heretics!)
once held their meetings before they were
all flayed alive. It is called the house
of the moving walls.
CALIPH.
Why such a name?
RAFI.
I do not know at all.
CALIPH.
The merry noise of music that we heard is silent.
RAFI.
I waited for your permission, my guests, before continuing
my meagre entertainment. Ho, music! Ho, dancers!
(Claps his hands.)
(Music plays. The HOST enters the room and motions
his GUESTS to be seated in silence.)
CALIPH.
Verily, after this prelude, and in this splendid palace,
we shall see dancing women worthy of Paradise.
JAFAR.
God grant it, Master.
CALIPH.
(To JAFAR)
Hush, I hear the pattering of feet.
The wine of anticipation is dancing through my veins.
O Jafar, what incomparable houris will charm our eyes to-night?
What rosy breasts, what silver shoulders, what shapely legs,
what jasmine arms!
(In good order, marching to the music, there enter the most
awful selection of Eastern BEGGARS the eye could imagine,
or the tongue describe. They are headed by their CHIEF, a
rather fine fellow, in indescribable tatters. He leads the
CHORUS with a song, half intoned in the Oriental style.)
Fathers of two feet, advance,
Dot and go ones, hop along,
Two feet missing need not dance,
But will join us in the song.
CHORUS OF CULS-DE-JATTE.
But will join you in the song.
Show your most revolting scar;
People never weary of it.
The more nauseous you are--
More the pity and your profit.
CHORUS
And your profit, profit, profit.
Cracked of lip and gapped of tooth,
Apoplectic, maim or mad,
Blind of one eye, blind of both,
Up, the beggars of Bagdad.
CHORUS
Up, the beggars of Baghdad.
There is a cellar, I am told,
Where a little lamp is lit,
And that cellar's full of gold,
Sacks and sacks and sacks of it.
CHORUS
(Hoarsely)
Sacks and sacks and sacks of it,
Stacks and stacks and stacks of it.
Open eyes and stiffen backs,
There are sacks and sacks and sacks;
And gold for him who lacks of it.
(The HOST lifts his hand. The BEGGARS
all fall flat on their faces.
Dance music.)
(Enter right, a BAND of fair,
left, a BAND of dusky beauties.)
THE DANCING GIRLS.
Daughters of delight, advance,
Petals, petals, drift along;
Cypress, tremble! Firefly, dance!
Nightingale, your song, your song!
THE FAIR.
We are pale
THE DARK.
as dawn, with roses,
O the roses, O desire!
We are dark,
THE FAIR.
(Curtsying)
but as the twilight
Shooting all the sky with fire.
CHORUS.
Daughters of delight, advance,
Petals, petals, drift along,
Cypress, tremble! Firefly, dance!
Nightingale, your song, your song!
(They surround the BEGGARS, dancing, and point at them.)
LEADER OF THE FAIR.
From what base tavern, of what street
Were dragged these dogs, that foul our feet?
LEADER OF THE DARK.
O sisters, fly, we shall be hurt:
(The LEADER OF THE BEGGARS catches her.)
Leave go my ankle, son of dirt.
LEADER OF THE BEGGARS.
Lady, if the dirt should gleam,
Feel, but do not show surprise:
Things that happen here would seem
(Rises to his feet, his rags drop off, and he shines in gold.)
Paradox in Paradise.
(The infirmities and rags of the
whole BAND disappear as if by magic,
as they rise and shout in CHORUS.)
CHORUS.
Paradox in Paradise
(RAFI raises his hand. ALL stand at attention.)
VOICES.
Hush, the King speaks.
The King of the Beggars.
The King.
LEADER OF THE BEGGARS
The King of the Beggars, the Caliph of the Faithless.
The Peacock of the Silver Path, the Master of Bagdad!
(The BALLET line the room behind the arches.)
JAFAR.
(Aside, astonished)
King of the Beggars?
MASRUR.
(Aside, astonished)
Master of Bagdad?
CALIPH.
(Aside, astonished)
Caliph of the Faithless? Allah kerim,
this is a jest indeed!
RAFI.
(Throwing off his outer garment and discovering
himself superbly dressed in a golden armour)
Subjects and guests. Now that the night before our day is ending, and the Wolf's Tail is already brushing the eastern sky; now that our plot is ready, our conspiracy established, our victory imminent, what is there left for me to tell you, O faithful band? Shall I say, be brave? You are lions. Be cunning? You are serpents. Be bloody? You are wolves.
See now, Bagdad is still in dreams that in a few minutes shall be full of fire, and that fire redder than the dawn. You have begged--you shall buy: you have fawned--you shall fight: you have plotted--you shall plunder: you have cringed: you shall kill.
How loud they snore, those swine whose nostrils we shall slit to-day! Copper they flung to us, and steel we shall give them back; good steel of Damascus, that digs a narrow hole and deep.
But as for the Peacock of Peacocks, that sack of debauch, that Caliph, alive in his coffin, I and none other will nail him down, with his eyes staring into mine. His gardens, fountains, summer houses, and palaces; his horses, mules, camels, and elephants, his statues of Yoonistan, and his wines of Ferangistan, his eunuchs of Egypt, and his carpets of Bokhara, and his great sealed boxes bursting with unbeaten gold, and his beads of amethyst, and his bracelets of sapphire, all this and all his women, his chosen flower-like women, are yours for lust and loot and lechery, my children--all save her of whom I warned you--a woman who was mine, and who shall sit unveiled with me on the throne of all the Caliphs... and when you see us sitting on that throne together, then you shall cry...
THE BEGGARS
(Taking up with a shout)
The Caliph is dead! The Caliphate is over!
Long live the King!
JAFAR.
(In indignation)
These words are not holy, even in jest.
RAFI.
O guests of an hour, I pray you put the tongue
of discretion into the cheek of propriety.
JAFAR.
Propriety! The host's obligations are greater than the guests.
It is not good taste to speak thus before the invited.
We pray you only that we may withdraw at once.
RAFI.
Then who will withdraw me, my masters, from the
vengeance of the Caliph, once you have talked a
talk with the Captain of his Guard?
JAFAR.
We give you our promise: we are men of honour.
RAFI.
If you were thieves, as we are, I might trust you.
But, if, as you say, you are men of honour, honour
will drive you panting to the Caliph's gate, and
honour will swiftly break a promise made to a this
and a rebel, under compulsion.
JAFAR.
Sir, I pray you, no more of this, be it jest or earnest.
It will soon be morning: we must away: we have pressing business:
our clients await us.
RAFI.
And give me their names, O my guests, and tonight I will fling
their gold and their carcasses together at your feet.
JAFAR.
We insist that you let us go.
RAFI.
O merchants, tell me but this one thing:
Do you dwell in fine houses in the port of Basra?
JAFAR.
We have no mean abodes.
RAFI.
Are your apartment spacious and well furnished?
JAFAR.
Well enough.
RAFI.
Then tell me further, have you soft carpets
on the floors of those rooms?
JAFAR.
There are carpets.
RAFI.
Great, rich, soft carpets from Persia and Afghanistan?
JAFAR.
Yes.
RAFI.
It is a pity. Soft carpets make soft the sole of
the foot. And they who have soft feet should ever
keep them on the road of meekness.
MASRUR.
(Drawing his sword)
Dost thou dare threaten us, bismillah!
RAFI.
Truly, O most disgusting negro, comprehension and thou have been separated since your youth. Shall I then drop needle of insinuation and pick up the club of statement? Shall I tell you three guests of mine, with the plainness of plainness and the openness of plainness, that if you offer one threat more, propose one evasion more, or ask one question more, I will thrash your lives head downwards from your feet.
(Enter HASSAN finely dressed, and ushered in
by the FOUR BOYS through the rows of DANCERS.)
HASSAN.
(Lamenting)
Eywallah, eywallah, eywah, eywah, Mashallah! Istagfurallah!
RAFI.
Why, here is the fourth guest!
ALDER.
We have washed him: he needed it.
WILLOW.
Combed him: it was necessary.
JUNIPER.
Scented him: it was our duty.
TAMARISK.
Clothed him: it was our delight.
HASSAN.
(As before)
Eywallah! Yallah Akbar! Y'allah kerim! Istagfurallah!
Eywallah! Hassan is ended! Hassan is no more! He is dead!
He is buried! He is a bone! Y'allah kerim!
RAFI.
Eyyah Hassan, if that is your name, have my boys not treated you well?
If they have hurt you with their tricks, by the Great Name, I will...
HASSAN.
I pray you, I pray you. Thrash no one's life out downwards
from their feet, O master, and above all, not mine.
RAFI.
Ah, you heard me! Take courage. All that I require of
my guests, good Hassan, is genteel behaviour.
HASSAN.
Ah! Who are all these terrible men?
RAFI.
Beggars of Bagdad! Ten thousand more await my signal on the streets.
In a few minutes they will surprise the drowsy Palace Guards,
sack Bagdad, kill the Caliph and make me King.
HASSAN.
(Stupefied)
What has become of me this night! Just now
I was in Hell, with all the fountains raining fire and blood.
RAFI.
Come, Hassan, you are only just in time; the cold dawn which ends
the revellers' dark day will soon be uncurtaining the blue.
One bowl to pledge me victory, O guests, for I must away and win it,
and you shall lie here to sleep away the destruction of Bagdad.
At least you shall say this of your host--he gave us splendid wine.
(The FOUR SLAVES hand round the bowl; the CALIPH refuses.)
(To CALIPH)
Sir, you do not drink.
CALIPH.
I obey the Prophet.
RAFI.
What wine do they grow in the desert of Meccah, or on the sandhills
of Medina? Ah, had the Prophet tasted wine of Syria or the islands,
the book would have been shorter by that uncomfortable verse.
JAFAR.
Come, host! I at all events will pledge you. There is
ever fellowship between those who have drunk wine together,
be they murderers or thieves or Christians.
MASRUR.
Host, on the day when I shall spill your blood, I shall
drink a little in remembrance of this bowl of wine.
Till then your health!
(Drinks.)
RAFI.
(Sarcastically)
Ye are three jolly fellows of amiable disposition.
(Drinks.)
I thank you, negro, I drink to yours.
HASSAN.
I drink to forget a woman, but will this little cup suffice?
RAFI.
Nor ten, nor ten thousand little cups like these, if you have loved.
Tonight I shall fill my bowl of the oblivion with the blood
of the Caliph of Bagdad. Brother, will that great cup suffice?
HASSAN.
(In terror)
Call me not brother, thou savage man, who dost talk
of shedding the holiest blood in Islam!
RAFI.
When high office is polluted, when the holy is unholy,
when justice is a lie, when the people are starved,
and the great fools of the world are in high office,
then dares a man talk of shedding the holiest blood
in Islam?
CALIPH.
Also when one has a vengeance to wreak on the Caliph
and a claim on a lady of his household.
MASRUR.
Why do you want to nail him in his coffin alive? Tell us the tale.
JAFAR.
Tell us, if would not have us think you a mad man or a buffoon.
CALIPH.
Tell us about the woman; what harm can do you
since we are in your power?
RAFI.
(After hesitation)
Yes, what harm can it do, if for my own sake,
to relieve the heaviness of my heart,
I tell you something of my story?
My name is Rafi. I come from the hills beyond Mosul, where the men walk free and the women go unveiled. There I was betrothed to Pervaneh, a woman beautiful and wise. But the very day before our marriage the Governor of Mosul remembered my country and invaded it with a thousand men. And little enough plunder they got from our village, but they caught Pervaneh walking alone among the pine woods and carried her away. When I heard this I leapt on my horse and galloped to Mosul, prepared to slay the Governor and all the inhabitants thereof single-handed, if evil had come to Pervaneh. But there I found she had already been sent with a raft full of slaves down the Tigris to Bagdad. Whereupon I hired six men with shining muscles to row me there. We arrived at Bagdad at the end of the third night's rowing at the grey of dawn. I sprang out of the raft like a tiger, and ran like a madman through the streets, crying "The Slave Market! Tell me the way, O ye citizens! The Slave Market, O the Slave Market!"
And suddenly turning a corner I came upon the market, which was like a garden full of girls in splendid clothes grouped in groups like flowers in garden beds and some like lilies, naked. I ran around the market to find Pervaneh and all the women laughed at me aloud, and behold there she stood; she who had never worn a veil before, the only veiled woman in all the market, for she had sworn to bite off her lips if her master would not veil her: but I knew her by the beauty of her hands, and I cried: "O dealer, the veiled woman for a thousand dinars!" And the dealer laughed in the way of dealers at the presumption of my offer and demanded two thousand, and so I purchased for gold the blood of my own heart, and she lifted her veil and sang for joy and hung upon my neck, and all the slave girls clapped their hands.
But at that moment there entered into the market a negro eunuch, so tall and so disgusting that the sun was darkened and the birds whistled for terror in the trees. And all the dealers and the slaves bowed low before him. Coming to my dealer, he cried: "Why dost thou sell slaves before the Caliph has made his choice?"
Then turning to to Pervaneh, he said, "Go back to thy place." And I cried, "She is my purchase." But the eunuch said, "Hold thy peace; I take her for the Caliph."
And suddenly two guards seized Pervaneh, and I drawing my sword was about to hew the eunuch into a thousand pieces, Pervaneh made a sign to me, and looking up I saw I was surrounded by men at arms. And Pervaneh cried in the speech of my country, as they carried her way: "I will die, but I will not be defiled: rescue me alive or dead, soon or late, and avenge me on this Caliph, may the ravens eat his entrails!"
That is my story, and for this reason I will nail the Caliph down in his coffin, bound and living and with open eyes.
CALIPH.
(In horror)
Bound and living, with open eyes! Thou devil!
MASRUR.
Is that all the story?
JAFAR.
Will you tear up the Empire for the honour of a girl?
CALIPH.
(In fury)
And set your worthless passion in scale against
the splendour of Islam!
RAFI.
Is this Haroun the splendour of Islam? Is the prosperity
of these people, a rosy slave in his serai, or their happiness,
a fish in his silver fountain?
JAFAR.
God will frustrate thee.
RAFI.
If he will. Farewell, my guests. I go to avenge Pervaneh,
and to wash Bagdad in blood.
JAFAR.
And what of us?
RAFI.
It is well be used that you are my guests, for you are rich and proud,
and eminently deserve destruction. But you are safe in his room
as in an iron cage; you will only hear, as in a dream, the crash
of the fall of the statue of tyranny.
CALIPH.
(Rushing to intercept him)
By the thick smoke of Hell's Pit and the Ghouls
that eat man's flesh, you shall not go,
and we shall not stay.
RAFI.
Look twice before you touch me!
(He leaps behind the archway. The BEGGARS and the WOMEN are now
lined close to the wall of the room and the GUESTS are isolated
in the centre. From behind every pillar appears an ARCHER
with bow drawn taut directed on the startled GUESTS.)
CHORUS OF BEGGARS AND DANCING GIRLS.
Today the fools who catch a cold in summer
Will fly for winter in the windy moon.
To-day the little rills of shining water
Will catch the fire of morning oversoon.
To-day the state musicians and court poets
Will set new verses to a special tune.
Today Haroun, the much-detested Caliph
Will find his Caliphate inopportune.
RAFI.
(Silencing the SINGERS with a wave of his hand;
to the GUESTS)
Did not someone ask me why this house
was called the House of the Moving Walls?
CALIPH.
I asked the question.
(Sheets of iron with a crash covering the apertures of
the arches. The four GUESTS are completely walled in.)
RAFI, BEGGARS AND WOMEN.
(From behind the iron partitions with a shout)
Answered!
JAFAR.
This is a disastrous situation!
(The BEGGARS Tramp out to martial music.)
VOICES OF THE BEGGARS
(Retreating)
Today Haroun, the much-detested Caliph,
Will find Caliphate inopportune!
JAFAR.
(Listening at the wall)
They have all left the room.
At least we are alone.
Let us shout, they may hear us from the street.
MASRUR.
(Banging on the wall)
Eyyah! Help, help, men of Bagdad!
The Caliph is in danger! The Caliph is in prison!...
Come up and save the Caliph, the Master of Men,
the Shaker of the World!...
(Silence.)
CALIPH.
There comes no answering cheer...
JAFAR.
I had forgotten the height of this room above the streets:
and on either side stretches the empty garden of this house!
(The CALIPH, JAFAR and MASRUR rush around as though trying
to find a way out of their prison, and banging on the iron walls.
HASSAN takes his seat on the carpet.)
CALIPH.
Allah! and this room is a box within a box like a Chinese toy.
And that man will surprise my soldiers in the chill of dawn,
and sack my palace and burn Baghdad. He will discover my identity
and bury me alive!
JAFAR.
Alas, Master! What shall we do?
CALIPH.
Thou dog! Thou dirt! Thou dunghill! Thou dustheap!
Did I make thee Vizier to ask counsel or to give it?
Find out what we shall do! Thou hast let me fall into a trap,
and now dost quiver and quake and shiver and shake like a tub of
whey on the back of a restive camel: my kingdom is reduced from
twelve provinces to twelve square cubits: my subjects from
thirty millions unto three, but Bismillah! one of my subjects
is the Executioner, and Mashallah! another one merits execution:
and Inshallah! if thy head doth not immediately devise
a practical scheme of escape it shall dive off my shoulders
and swim across the floor.
JAFAR.
What shall happen, shall happen. But here is one who is occupied
in meditation, and is aloof from the circumstances of the moment:
let us invite him to Council.
CALIPH.
Ho, thou Hassan! What occupies thy spirit?
HASSAN.
I am examining the square of carpet. It is of cheap manufacturer,
inferior dye and unpleasant pattern.
CALIPH.
Art thou a carpet dealer?
HASSAN.
No, sir, I am a confectioner,
CALIPH.
And I am the Caliph.
HASSAN.
As my heart surmised. O Commander of the Faithful!
(Performs the ceremonies prescribed.)
CALIPH.
Canst thou give me one gleam of hope of salvation,
Hassan the Confectioner? If not, Masrur shall cut
off all our heads, beginning with thine, I dare not
fall into that man's hands alive.
HASSAN.
But I dare! O spare me, spare me! What of the man who put me
in the basket? He will know where we are, and come to our rescue.
CALIPH.
No good--no good. I would rather depend on the mercy of Rafi
than on the whim of Ishak. Masrur, unsheathe. There is no hope.
HASSAN.
Thy pardon on thy servant: there is hope! Behold the light!
(Points to crack between bottom of the
iron wall and floor, towards the balcony.)
CALIPH.
By the seven lakes of Hell, we are not mice!
HASSAN.
A mouse could not pass. But what, O Master, of a message?
CALIPH.
A message?
HASSAN.
Written out black on paper, and dropped into the street.
CALIPH.
Ho, Jafar, thou art a fool to this man! Take out thy pen and write. Warn the Captain of the Soldiers. Warn the Police. Describe our position. Offer the the Government of Three Provinces to the man who picks up the paper. Write clearly, write quicker. Time's flying. Write, and we are saved. Write for the Salvation of Bagdad; write for the safety of Islam! O Hassan, the Confectioner, if we are rescued I will fill my mouth with gold!
(JAFAR having written on a long roll of paper,
they thrust it in the crack.)
HASSAN.
No: at the corner here, where there is no balcony
and the wall drops straight into the street.
(MASRUR pokes out the paper with his sword.)
CALIPH.
And now how shall we employ the time
of waiting for our deliverance?
JAFAR.
I shall meditate upon the mutability of human affairs.
MASRUR.
And I shall sharpen my sword upon my thigh.
HASSAN.
And I shall study the reasons of the excessive ugliness
of the pattern of this carpet.
CALIPH.
Hassan, I will join thee: thou art a man of taste. _
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