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 ill.u.s.trious 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 G.o.d grant it, Master.

CALIPH (To JAFAR) Hush, I hear the pattering of feet.

The wine of antic.i.p.ation is dancing through my veins.

O Jafar, what incomparable houris will charm our eyes to-night?

What rosy b.r.e.a.s.t.s, 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 (Hoa.r.s.ely) 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.