The gardens of the Caliph's Palace outside the Pavilion of Pleasure.
Anice-Aljalice, Nureddene.

ANICE-ALJALICE

This is Bagdad!

NUREDDENE

Bagdad the beautiful,
The city of delight. How green these gardens!
What a sweet clamour pipes among the trees!

ANICE-ALJALICE

And flowers! the flowers! Look at these violets
Dark blue like burning sulphur! Oh, rose and myrtle
And gillyflower and lavender; anemones
As red as blood! All spring walks here in blossoms
And strews the pictured ground.

NUREDDENE

Do you see the fruit,
Anice? Camphor and almond-apricots,
Green, white and purple figs and these huge grapes,
Round rubies or quite purple-black, that ramp
O'er wall and terrace; plums almost as smooth
As your own damask cheek. These balls of gold
Are lemons, Anice, do you think? Look, cherries,
And mid these fair pink-budded orange-blossoms
Rare glints of fruit.

ANICE-ALJALICE

That was a blackbird whistled.

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How the doves moan! It's full of cooing turtles.
Oh see, the tawny bulbuls calling sweetly
And winging! What a nutter of scarlet tails!
If it were dark, a thousand nightingales
Would surely sing together. How glad I am
That we were driven out of Bassora!

NUREDDENE

And this pavilion with its crowd of windows!
Are there not quite a hundred ?

ANICE-ALJALICE

Do you see
The candelabrum pendent from the ceiling ?
A blaze of gold!

NUREDDENE

Each window has a lamp.
Night in these gardens must be bright as day.
To find the master now! Here we could rest
And ask our way to the great Caliph, Anice.

Enter Shaikh Ibrahim from behind.

IBRAHIM

So, so! So, so! Cavalier sirvente with your bona roba! You do
not know then of the Caliph's order forbidding entry into his
gardens? No? I will proclaim it then with a palmstick about
your pretty back quarters. Will I not? Hoh!

He advances stealthily with stick raised.
Nureddene and Anice turn towards him, he drops
the stick and remains with arm lifted.

NUREDDENE
Here is a Shaikh of the gardens. Whose garden is this, friend ?

ANICE-ALJALICE

Is the poor man out of the use of his wits? He stares open-mouthed.

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IBRAHIM

Glory to Allah who made you! Glory to the angel who brought you down on earth! Glory to myself who am permitted to look upon you! I give glory to Allah for your beauty, O people of Paradise!

NUREDDENE (smiling)

Rather give glory to Him because he has given thee a fine old age and this long silvery beard. But are we permitted in this garden? The gate was not bolted.

IBRAHIM

This garden? My garden? Yes, my son; yes, my daughter. It is the fairer for your feet; never before did such flowers bloom there.

NUREDDENE

What, is it thine? And this pavilion?

IBRAHIM

All mine, my son. By the grace of Allah to a poor sinful old man. 'Tis by his election, my son, and divine ordination and sanctification, and a little by the power of my prostrations and lustrations which I neglect not, neither morning nor noon nor evening nor at any of the intervals by the law commanded.

NUREDDENE

When did you buy or lay it out, old father?

IBRAHIM

A grand-aunt left it to me. Wonder not, for she was indeed aunt's grandmother to a cousin of the sister-in-law of the Caliph.

NUREDDENE

Oh then indeed! She had the right divine to be wealthy. But I

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trust thou hast good doctrinal justification for inheriting after
her?

IBRAHIM

I would not accept the Caliphate by any other. Oh my son, hanker not unlawfully after perishable earthly goods; for, verily, they are a snare and verily, verily, they entrap the feet of the soul as it toileth over the straight rough road to Heaven. 

ANICE-ALJALICE

But, old father, are you rich and go so poorly robed? Were I mistress of such a garden, I would float about it in damask and crimson and velvet; silk and satin should be my meanest apparel. 

IBRAHIM (aside)

She has a voice like a blackbird's! O angel Gabriel, increase this unto me. I will not quarrel with thee though all Houridom break loose on my garden; for their gates thou hast a little opened. (aloud) Fie, my daughter! I take refuge with Allah. I am a poor sinful old man on the brink of the grave, what should I do with robes and coloured raiment ? But they would hang well on thee. Praise the Lord who has given thee hips like the moon and a waist indeed! a small, seizable waist, Allah forgive me!

ANICE-ALJALICE

We are weary, old father; we hunger and thirst.

IBRAHIM

Oh, my son! Oh, my daughter! You put me to shame. Come in, come in; this my pavilion is yours and there is within it plenty of food and drink, — such innocent things now as sherbet and pure kind water. But as for wine, that accursed thing, it is for- bidden by the Prophet, whose name is a benediction. Come in, come in. Allah curse him that giveth not to the guest and the stranger.

NUREDDENE

It is indeed thine ? we may enter ?

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IBRAHIM

Allah, Allah! its floor yearns for thy beauty and for the fair feet of thy sister. If there were youth now instead of poor venerable me, would one not kiss the marble wherever her fair small feet Will touch it ? But I praise Allah that I am an old man with my thoughts turned to chastity and holiness. 

NUREDDENE

Come, Anice.

IBRAHIM (walking behind them)

Allah! Allah! She is a gazelle that springeth. Allah! Allah! the swan in my lake waddleth less perfectly. She is as a willow when the wind swayeth it. Allah! Allah!

Exeunt to the pavilion.

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