HERALD Ha.s.san ben Ha.s.san al Bagdadi, the Caliph's friend.

SOLDIERS Long live Ha.s.san and the shadow of Ha.s.san and the friend of Ha.s.san ben Ha.s.san al Bagdadi!

ISHAK (Drawing Ha.s.sAN aside) Come hither, friend of the Caliph; do not forget that you are the man with the broken lute.

Ha.s.sAN What is a friend?

ISHAK Are you not in favour? Has not the Caliph taught you?

You have a royal friend.

Ha.s.sAN He is generous: he is gracious: he is intimate. He has leant on my arm, he has embraced me, he has called me by that name "friend".

But I tremble before his eyes.

ISHAK You have found out. No man can ever be his friend.

Ha.s.sAN Alas, that is because he is exalted far above mankind!

ISHAK Alas, no: but because he uses that supremacy to play the artist with the lives of men.

Ha.s.sAN What do you mean, Ishak?

ISHAK Have you not seen the designer of carpets, O Ha.s.san of Bagdad, put here the blue and here the gold, here the orange here the green?

So have I seen the Caliph take the life of some helpless man-- who was contented in his little house and garden, enjoying the blue of happy days--and colour his life with the purple of power, and streak it with the crimson of l.u.s.t: then whelm it all with the gloom-greys of abas.e.m.e.nt, touched with the glaring reds of pain, and edge the whole with the black border of annihilation.

Ha.s.sAN He has been so generous. Do not say he is a tyrant!

Do not say he delights in the agony of men!

ISHAK Agony is a fine colour, and he delights therein as a painter in vermilion new brought from Kurdistan. But shall so great an artist not love contrast? To clasp a silver belt round the loins of a filthy beggar while a slave darkens the soles of his late vizier, is for him but a jest touched with a sense of the appropriate: and I have seen it enacted in this very room.

Ha.s.sAN But you are his friend.

ISHAK As you are. It is elegant for a monarch to condescend: it is refreshing for a monarch to talk as man to man. It is artistic for a monarch to enjoy the pleasures of contrast and escape the formalities of Court....

But here comes the preceder of the Caliph, the penultimate splendour of the divan, a man n.o.ble without pa.s.sion, sagacious without inspiration, and weak as a miser's coffee.

HERALD The Tulip of the Parterre of Government, the Shadow of the Cypress Tree, the Sun's Moon, Jafar the Barmecide.

SOLDIERS Long live the great Vizier!

HERALD Let all mouths close but mine. (Lifting his staff.) The Holy, the Just, the High-born, the Omnipotent; the Gardener of the Vale of Islam, the Lion of the Imperial Forests, the Rider on the Spotless Horse, the Cyprus on the Golden Hill, the Master of Spears, the Redresser of Wrong, the Drinker of Blood, the Peac.o.c.k of the World, the Shadow of G.o.d on Earth, the Commander of the Faithful, Haroun ar Raschid ben Mohammed, Ibn Abdullah Ibn Mohammed Ibn Ali ben Abdullah, Ibn 'Abbas, the Caliph.

SOLDIERS The Holy, the High-born, the Just One, the Caliph!

The Cypress, the Peac.o.c.k, the Lion, the Caliph!

From Rum to Bokhara one monarch, the Caliph!

DERVISH (Gloomily) A clay thing, a plaything, a shadow, the Caliph!

CALIPH The Divan is open. Let all mouths close but mine. Our justice today will be swift as a blow of the sword. In the Book of the Wisdom of Rulers I read: "Be sudden to uproot the tree of conspiracy for it scatters far its seed." Are you the Beggars?

BEGGARS We are the beggars of Bagdad.

CALIPH Thou, spokesman, come hither! Wherefore didst thou plot against my throne and the safety of all Islam?

Didst thou not fear not only for thy life but for thy salvation?

BEGGAR Master and Lord of the World, hast thou been poor, hast thou been hungry?

Dost thou know what dreams enter the gaunt heads of starving men as they lie against the back of thy garden wall, and moan: "Bread in G.o.d's name, bread in the name of G.o.d?"

CALIPH Dost thou deny conspiracy?

BEGGAR I conspired.

CALIPH Is there one of you denieth conspiracy?

(Silence.)

Masrur, lead out the conspirators to death.

(MASRUR executes the order.)

CALIPH Let those whose duty it is fetch him who is called the King of the Beggars from his cell, and let him who did us the great service of capturing alive that dangerous man, step forth into the midst.

CHIEF OF POLICE (Stepping forward) Lord of the World--but I am dirt.

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY (Simultaneously advancing) Lord of the World--but I am dung.

CALIPH Where you both concerned in his capture? My favour is doubled upon you.

Let two robes of honour be brought before my throne.

CHIEF OF POLICE Sir, I fail to comprehend the presence of this military man.

He was but a spectator when I dragged out the King of Beggars from the gutter of his roof.

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY O thou civilian, I caught a valiant hold of his legs, despite his heavy and continuous kicks, whilst thou didst but timidly pluck at his sleeve.

CHIEF OF POLICE Pluck at his sleeve, tin-coated murderer! Summon the twenty drops of blood that trickle round thy lank and withered frame and let them mount to thy mendacious cheek!

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY Thou dropsical elephant!

CALIPH Enough! I love to hear the speech of heroes, but enough. It is clear the glory is divided. Give me one of those robes of honour, and summon the tailor of the court.

COURT TAILOR (Very prostrate) O Master of the World, O Master!

CALIPH Slit me this robe in twain.

COURT TAILOR (Moaning as he does so) Allah is great, Allah is great.

Such a well-cut robe: such excellent silk!

CALIPH Come hither both.

CAPTAIN OF MILITARY (Hanging back) The glory is all to the police.