-07_The Viziers of Bassora Act-2 Sc-2.htm

Ibn Sawy's house. A room in the women's apartments.
Ameena, Doonya.

AMEENA

Has he come in ?

DOONYA

He has.

AMEENA

For three long days!
I will reprove him — call him to me, Doonya.
I will be stern.

DOONYA

That's right. Lips closer there!
And just try hard to frown. That's mildly grim
And ought to shake him. Now you spoil all by laughing.

AMEENA

Away, you madcap! Call him here.

DOONYA

The culprit
Presents himself unsummoned.

Enter Nureddene.

NUREDDENE (at the door)

Ayoob, Ayoob!
A bowl of sherbet in my chamber.

(entering)

Well, mother,
Here I am back, your errant gadabout,
Your vagabond scapegrace, tired of truancy
And very hungry for my mother's arms.

Page – 595

It's good to see you smile!

AMEENA

My dearest son!

NUREDDENE

Why, Doonya, cousin, what wild face is this ?

DOONYA

This is a frown, a frown, upon my forehead.

Do you not tremble when you see it? No?

To tell you the plain truth, my wandering brother,

We both were practising a careful grimness

And meant to wither you with darting flames

From basilisk eyes and words more sharp than swords,

Burn you and frizzle into simmering cinders.

Oh, you'ld have been a dolorous spectacle

Before we had finished with you! Ask her else.

AMEENA

Heed her not, Nureddene. But tell me, child,
Is this well done to wander vagrant-like
Leaving your mother to anxieties
And such alarms ? Oh, we will have to take
Some measure with you! „

DOONYA

Oh, now, now, we are stern!

NUREDDENE

Mother, I only range abroad and learn
Of manners and of men to fit myself
For the after-time.

DOONYA

True, true, and of the taste
Of different wines and qualities of girls;

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What eyes Damascus sends, the Cairene sort,

Bagdad's red lips and Yemen's willowy figures,

Who has the smallest waist in Bassora,

Or who the shapeliest little foot moon-bright

Beneath her anklets. These are sciences

And should be learned by sober masculine graduates.

Should they not, cousin?

NUREDDENE

These too are not amiss,
Doonya, for world-wise men. And do you think,
Dear Mother, I could learn the busy world
Here, in your lap, within the shadowy calm
Of women's chambers?

AMEENA

No, child, no. You see,
Doonya, it is not all so bad, this wandering.
And I am sure they much o'erstate his faults
Who tell of them.

DOONYA

Oh, this is very grim!

AMEENA

But, Nureddene, you must not be so wild;

Or when we are gone, what will you do, if now
You learn no prudence ? All your patrimony
You'll waste, — and then ?

NUREDDENE

Then, mother, life begins.
I shall go forth, a daring errant-knight,
To my true country out in Faeryland;

Wander among the Moors, see Granada,
The delicate city made of faery stone,
Cairo, Tangier, Aleppo, Trebizond;

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Or in the East, where old enchantment dwells,

Find Pekin of the wooden piles, Delhi

Of the idolaters, its brazen pillar

And huge seven-storied temples sculpture-fretted,

And o'er romantic regions quite unknown

Preach Islam, sword in hand; sell bales of spice

From Bassora to Java and Japan;

Then on through undiscovered islands, seas

And Oceans yet unnamed; yes, everywhere

Catch Danger by the throat where I can find him, —

DOONYA

Butcher blood-belching dragons with my blade,
Cut ogres, chop giants, tickle cormorants, —

NUREDDENE

Then in some land, I have not settled which, —

DOONYA

Call it Cumcatchia or Nonsensicum.

NUREDDENE

Marry a Soldan's daughter, sweet of eye .'
And crowned with gracious hair, deserving her
By deeds impossible: conduct her armies
Against her foemen, enter iron-walled
Cities besieged with the loud clang of war,
Rescue imperilled kingdoms, 'mid the smoke
Of desperate cities slay victorious kings,
And so extend my lady's empire wide —

DOONYA

From Bassora to the quite distant moon.

NUREDDENE

There I shall reign with beauty and splendour round

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In a great palace built of porphyry,
Marble and jasper, with strange columns made
Of coral and fair walls bright-arabesqued
On which the Koran shall be written out
In sapphires and in rubies. I will sit
Drinking from, cups of gold delightful wine,
Watching slow dances, while the immortal strain
Of music wanders to its silent home.
And I shall have bright concubines and slaves
Around me crowding all my glorious home
With beautiful faces, thick as stars in heaven.
My wealth shall be so great that I can spend
Millions each day nor feel the want. I'll give
Till there shall be no poor in all my realms,
Nor any grieved; for I shall every night,
Like Haroun al Rasheed, the mighty Caliph,
Wander disguised with Jaafar and Mesrour
Redressing wrongs, repressing Almuenes,
And set up noble men like my dear father
In lofty places, giving priceless boons,
An unseen Providence to all mankind.

DOONYA

And you will marry me, dear Nureddene

To Jaafar, your great Vizier, so that we

Shall never part, but every blessed night

Drink and be merry in your halls, and live

Felicitously for ever and for aye,

So long as full moons shine and brains go wrong

And wine is drunk. I make my suit to you from now,

Caliph of Faeryland.

NUREDDENE

Your suit is granted.
And meanwhile, Doonya, I amuse myself
With nearer kingdoms, Miriam's wavy locks
And Shazarath-al-Durr's sweet voice of song.

Page – 599

DOONYA

And meanwhile, brother, till you get your kingdom,
We shall be grim, quite grim.

AMEENA

Your father's angry.
I have not known him yet so moved. My child,
Do not force us to punish you.

NUREDDENE

With kisses?
Look, Doonya, at these two dear hypocrites,
She with her gentle honey-worded threats,
He with his stormings. Pooh! I care not for you.

AMEENA

Not care!

NUREDDENE

No, not a jot for him or you,
My little mother, or only just so much
As a small kiss is worth.

AMEENA  

I told you, Doonya,
He was the dearest boy in all the world,
The best, the kindest.

DOONYA

Oh yes, you told me that.
And was the dearest boy in all the world
Rummaging the regions for the dearest girl,
While the admiring sun danced round the welkin
A triple circuit?

NUREDDENE

I have found her, Doonya.

Page – 600

DOONYA

The backward glance ?

AMEENA

Your father!

Enter Ibn Sawy.

IBN SAWY

Ameena,
I'm called to the palace; something is afoot.
Ah, rascal! ah, you villain! you have come?

NUREDDENE

Sir, a long hour.

IBN SAWY

Rogue! scamp! what do you mean?
Knave, is my house a caravanserai
For you to lodge in when it is your pleasure ?

NUREDDENE

It is the happiest home in Bassora,

Where the two kindest parents in the world

Excuse their vagabond son.

IBN SAWY

Hum! well! What, fellow,
You will buy trinkets ? You will have me dunned ?
And fleeced ?

NUREDDENE

Did he dun you ? I hope he asked
A fitting price; I told him to.

IBN SAWY

Sir, sir,
What game is this to buy your hussies trinkets

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And send your father in the bill ? Who taught you
This rule of conduct ?

NUREDDENE

You, sir.

IBN SAWY

I, rascal?

NUREDDENE

You told me
That debt must be avoided like a sin.
What other way could I avoid it, sir,
Yet give the trinket?

IBN SAWY

Logic of impudence ?
Tell me, you curled wine-bibbing Aristotle,
Did I tell you also to have mistresses
And buy them trinkets ?

NUREDDENE

Not in so many words.

IBN SAWY

So many devils!

NUREDDENE

But since you did not marry me
Nor buy a beautiful slave for home delight,
I thought you'ld have me range outside for pleasures
To get experience of the busy world.
If 'twas an oversight, it may be mended.

IBN SAWY

I'm dumb!

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NUREDDENE

There is a Persian Muazzim sells,
Whom buy for me, — her rate's ten thousand pieces —

IBN SAWY

A Persian! Muazzim sells! ten thousand pieces!

(to himself)

Where grows this tangle ? I become afraid.

NUREDDENE

Whom buy for me, I swear I'll be at home,
Quite four days out of seven.

IBN SAWY

Hear me, young villain!
I'm called to the palace, but when I return,
Look to be bastinadoed, look to be curried
In boiling water, (aside) I must blind him well.
Ten days I shall be busy with affairs,
Then for your slave-girl. Bid the broker keep her.
Oh, I forgot! I swore to pull your curls
For your offences.

NUREDDENE

I must not let you, sir;

They are no longer my own property.
There's not a lock that has not been bespoken
For a memento.

IBN SAWY

What! What! Impudent rascal!

(aside)

You handsome laughing rogue! Hear, Ameena,
Let Doonya sleep with Anice every night.
No, come, hear farther.

Exit with Ameena.

Page – 603

NUREDDENE

O Doonya, Doonya, tall, sweet, laughing Doonya!
I am in love, — drowned, strangled, dead with longing.

DOONYA

For the world's .Persian? But she's sold by now.

NUREDDENE

I asked Muazzim.

DOONYA

A quite absolute liar.

NUREDDENE

O if she is, I'll leave all other cares
And only seek her through an empty world.

DOONYA

What, could one backward glance sweep you so forward ?

NUREDDENE

Why, Doonya!

DOONYA

Brother, I know a thing I know
You do not know. A sweet bird sang it to me
In an upper chamber.

NUREDDENE

Doonya, you're full of something,
And I must hear it. .

DOONYA

What will you give me for it?
None of your night-hawk kisses, cousin mine!
But a mild loving kind fraternal pledge
I'll not refuse.

Page – 604

NUREDDENE

You are the wickedest, dearest girl
In all the world, the maddest sweetest sister
A sighing lover ever had. Now tell me.

DOONYA

 More, more! I must be flattered.

NUREDDENE

No more. Come, mischief,
You'll keep me in suspense ?

Pulls her ears.

DOONYA

Enough, enough!
The Persian — listen and perpend, O lover!
Lend ear while I unfold my wondrous tale,
A tale long, curled and with a tip, — Oh Lord!
I'll clip my tale. The Persian's bought for you
And in the upper chambers.

NUREDDENE

Doonya, Doonya!
But those two loving hypocrites, —

DOONYA

All's meant

To be surprise.

NUREDDENE

Surprise me no surprises.
I am on fire, Doonya, I am on fire.
The upper chambers ?

DOONYA

Stop, stop! You do not know;

There is an ogre at her door, a black

Page – 605

White-tusked huge-muscled hideous grinning giant,
Of mood uproarious, horrible of limb,
An Ethiopian fell yelped Harkoos.

NUREDDENE

The eunuch!

DOONYA

Stop, stop, stop. He has a sword,
A fearful, forceful, formidable blade.

NUREDDENE

Your eunuch and his sword! I mount to heaven
And who shall stop me ?

Exit.

DOONYA

Stop, stop! yet stop! He's off
Like bolt from bowstring. Now the game's afoot
And Bassora's Sultan, Mahomed Alzayni,
May whistle for his slave-girl. I am Fate,
For I upset the plans of Viziers and of Kings.

Exit.

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