LIBRARV OF THE University of California. GIFT OF Class CopprifiWeb ^ril 26, 1907 Cbening ISuOttin. IBaialla tsa^lla. ^iiHastington U' ?= £X1 i> Homo sum et nullum Inu- xnanuxn a me repudio -te:re:ncei &= ^£: ^ J Jforetuorlr The tragedy of ^^Giafae" is not a creature of the imagination. It is based upon a strictly historical plot. The cruelty which Haroun Al Easchid dis- played toward his Grand Vizier and the beautiful Abassa are perhaps the only stain upon the character of the other- wise noble-minded Khalif of Bagdad. Stage adaptation has not been pri- marily considered in the writing of the play. It has been the aim of the writer to present, upon an Oriental background of years agone, the unageing problem of the conflict between soul and sense in the evolution of Love. 196108 ©ramatisi ^ersionae HAKOUJS- AL EASCHID, Khalif of Bagdad. GIAFAK, Grand Vizier. ABASSA, the Khalif s Sister. H ASF AN A, Abassa's Companion. O^FAR, Chief of Saracen Army. YAHIA, Giafar's Father. FADHEL, Giafar's Brother. OBEIDAH) Counsellors to the Khalif. KHALED I ABU NUWAS, a Court Poet. ZIILEIKA, an Old Sooth-Sayer of the Harem. ^.■^.■^.•^•^^•^•^.^. Slaves, Eunuchs, Guards, Officers of State, Women of the Harem. SCENE: Bagdad. TIME: Beginning of the Ninth Century. SCENE — Magnificent apartments of Abassa, richly decorated with tapestry. A fountain in the center. The female train of the harem reclining on embroidered cushions on both sides of a high couch on which Abassa is seated; Hasfana at her feet holding a zither; on the other side of the couch, Zuleika. Two eunuchs stationed at the entrance of the apartment. The scene is illuminated by the crimson lights of the sunset which through a columned open- ing in the rear reveals the towers of Bagdad. ABASSA, I'm tired, Hasfana, with these gilded follies ! Our roses, hardly plucked, begin to wither ; Our jewels cease to charm, and e'en the music Of waters, falling in melodious rhythm. At last grows dulL My heart, the des- ert pilgrim. Finds its oasis fading as mirage. And as the cooling breeze that wooes at twilight The burning plains, will die, ere stars appear. There's naught that lasts. HASFANA. Save love, my fair Abassa ! ABA88A. Love's but a pleasing phrase, its mean- ing vague. Once, when young Omar dared to raise my veil, And sent his fiery glance into my soul. There was a flash, soon lost amid the clouds. HASFANA, Why then took'st pain to keep the fatal secret From Haroun's knowledge ? ABA88A. Little would I gain By making skulls to season dreams withal. HA8FANA. Alas, I tremble for the life of Omar. Should Haroun know the truth. The mighty Khalif Is kind and generous; but where Abassa Is lightly treated, he shows claws and teeth. ABA88A, Thou would'st not fear for Omar, were he not Close allied to thy heart. HA8FANA. Oh, mock me not! Thou art the sun of beauty, all the stars Must pay thee homage, but the humble light That flickers in my heart burns out un- noticed. ABA8SA. I pity thee, yet, though unloved, thou lovest. Two deep emotions never known to me, And therefore envied. HASFANA, Here's a song, Abassa, That fits thy life. Two verses only: Listen. (Singing to the accompaniment of the zither.) The flowers, so fragrant and so fair. Soon with their bloom must part; To perfume turned, enrich the air AVhere thou, Beloved, art. The dreamers who behold thy charms, In love for thee have blushed, And fain would linger in thy arms — To honor thee, are crushed. ABA8SA. Thinl^'st thou of Abdul ? HASFANA, Aje, of Osman, Hossein And hosts of others who, by passion spurred, Have crossed thy path ; thy beauty took them captive, Until the headsman's sword gave free- dom. ABA88A, (Pensively.) Love? From all thou sayest I perceive most clearly That 'tis a two-edged sword; it cuts as well As conquers. HASFANA. And whose blade's a shining mirror, Wlierein the quality of hearts is tested. ABASSA, Love left thee shipwrecked, yet upon the rock That crushed thy ill-starred boat, thou seekest refuge ! Ere thou met'st Omar, life to thee was pleasing, A gentle breath astir in myrtle groves; Xow tears are hidden 'neath thy sweet- est smiles. And sighs, unnatural to thy tender years, Make discord in thy speech. HA8FANA. Extract the thorn, Alas, the rose goes too ! The thought of Omar Is yet the vital spark of all my days; Without it there is naught. If he did love me The hope of Paradise would never tempt me To leave this earth; and now the hope of earth. The fond illusion that through chance or change His heart may yet be won, makes Para- dise E'en of my lonely hours. ABAS8A, This must be love ! For such a dream of bliss I glad would give My pearls and palaces, my rank and riches. What would'st thou think, Hasfana, should I choose To love thy Omar who, thou say'st, loves me ? EASFANA. Love is no slave that comes at beck and call; She is the mistress of all hearts ; may'st open The windows of the soul, yet can'st not hasten The coming of the sun. ABAS8A. Speak thou, Zuleika! ZULEIKA, Would'st learn of withered flesh, how to embrace ? Would'st ask this toothless mouth, what is a kiss ? I'll answer: Love is not a butterfly That dances blithely from bud to blos- som; It is a flame, of hell and passion born. That lights a fever in the dizzy brain And rages madly till it spreads con- tagion Upon another. When the fire is quenched, A vampire sucks the essence of the soul, Until the darling dream becomes a nightmare ! Love is a snake — 10 (Enter) A SLAVE, The Kuler of the Faithful! ABASSA, I am prepared to meet my noble brother ; Admit the Khalif . AL BA8CHID. Allah and his prophet Bless thee, my fair Abassa ! How I love To enter here, where dreams and music float Like gentle spirits in the perfumed air ! Indeed, there's naught in all my vast domain Which to my heart can give such bound- less rapture As to behold thy beauty. ABASSA. Surely none ? AL BASCHID. One other only of this world's rare pleasures I ask besides Abassa's charms, the thoughts Of my Giafar; take these two com- bined 11 And I would give my realm from far- thest shores, E^en to the gates of Bagdad, in ex- change. ABASSA. When every tongue, wherever the cres- cent rules, Proclaims Oiafar's name with fond de- votion ; Tell me, my brother, why Abassa's eye Shall ne'er behold him. AL BA8CHID. 'Tis against the laws Of thy great ancestors. The royal blood That flows within thy veins will e'er stand guard Against the lesser grade. I love Giafar, Yet higher mountains rise ^twixt thee and him Than jnortal foot has ever dared to climb. ABASSA, Thou art omnipotent. I pray thee, brother. Relieve thy lonely sister's idle hours By the companionship of some great mind, 12 To cheer the day, to fill with dreams the night, To give a soul to this love-longing form. AL BA8CEID, How could' st thou read my thought, ere yet I mentioned Aught that pertained to thee and to Giaf ar ? 'Tis woman's intuition which to reason. Like sun to moon, appears the greater light.^ Listen, fair sister, Llaroun has decided To merge two pleasures into one grand dream Of happiness ; thy beauty and the brain Of our Vizier shall now provide the pillars O'er which the temple of supremest bliss Will rise all-glorious ; in this very hour I will unite you to be man and wife. ABAS8A, Enthrilling thought! ^ew worlds un- fold before me. AL RA80HID. Aye, sweet Abassa, heretofore hast been A lily white adrift on golden streams, But now hast reached the sea; a fair- winged swan 13 Upon the shoreless ocean of true love May'st glide unfettered. ABASSA, Would ray throbbing heart Could move apace with thy fleet-footed •word! AL BA8CHID. Soon night will fold her wings before the dawn ; Have patience! Meanwhile I demand of thee A certain promise. ABA8SA, Granted, ere thou speakest! AL BASCHID. That you will never meet, when I am absent. ABASSA, Was ever mortal marriage thus re- stricted ? AL BASCHID. A marriage of two minds, that lasting union, Which, like the tree, survives the falling leaves. The bubbles of the blood. 14 ABAS8A, In love the changes Of ebb and tide, the dream and the awaking, The longing and the loss are !N'atnre's self. AL BA8CHID. Here is no argument, but my decree: Wilt thou obey it ? ABAS8A. Aye, it were not well, If the young flower that wooes the south- wind's kiss And ripens 'neath the sun, would show ill humor When the same elements that gave it bloom Cause it to droop. Whatever thou hast granted, Kind brother, though a favor limited, Is yet surpassing all I e'er dared hope. Accept Abassa's thanks! AL RASCHID. (To the three slave-p^irls who have entered with him.) Proceed, fair maidens, To crown our queen on love's enthrill- ing throne! 15 Adorn with flowers her brow, her neck with pearls, And o'er her lovely eyes place with de- votion The virgin-veil, her vow's unchanging symbol! FIRST SLAVE. (Placing a wreath of roses on Abassa's fore- head.) Many a sweet flower, Cursed in the earth, By the rays of the sunshine Is kissed into birth. Yet it leaves soil and sunlight, To circle thy brow. For the sweetest of flowers. Fair maiden, art thou ! SECOND SLAVE (Placing the necklace.) Many a rich pearl Lies deep in the sea And delights in eternal Tranquility. Yet it leaves its fond dreams On the ocean's breast. For it longs, queen of pearls, Xear thy bosom to rest. 16 THIRD SLAVE, (Covering Abassa's face with a veil.) Many a rare jewel Is hid in the mine, That it may in the darkness The brighter shine. But the veil that will cover Thy beautiful eyes, Conceals of all jewels The loveliest prize ! AL BASCHID, And ye, fair creatures of these festive halls. Dance, sing and pass the time in merri- ment. While I proceed to ask our good Giaf ar To enter here. Let rapture fill the air, When the divinest mind unites with Bagdad's Divinest form ; here E'ature reached her goal. (Exit Al Raschid.) (The women form a group and dance to the accompaniments of stringed instruments.) ABASSA, Sing me another song, thou dear Has- fana. My soul is greatly moved and naught save music Can calm the storm. 17 HASFANA. I'll sing a riddle ; liston ! (Sings) A light shone brightly through the night A wandering moth in lonely flight For warmth and refuge yearned; And, when it saw the dazzling flame, Too near the deadly fire it came — The hapless wings were burned. ABASSA. Ka! I divine thy meaning. HASFANA. Ah, I tremble For promises that are at war with 'Nsi- ture. ZULEIKA. (Aside.) At last the fates have shown a way to me; I'll be revenged for my captivity! ABASSA. My heart is thrilling with a thousand raptures To meet Giafar. Know'st thou him, Ilasf ana ? HASFANA. Only his songs, which, like the dew of heaven Drop on the fairest blossoms of the soul. 18 ,Q^[^^^^^^< ABASSA. His wisdom has no equal, even Haroiin Bows to its mandates and the mighty empire Awaits his judgment in the crucial hour. Hast ever seen him ^ Is he young and handsome ? HASFANA. Much older he than thou; sooie silver threads, like winter's heralds, 'neath his lieavy locks Eeveal at times that summer is past passing. ABASSA. Still he is tall and handsome? HASFANA. 'Not like Omar ; In whose impassioned eye are subtly mingled The daring soldier and the languid lover, A mid-day sun. But ev'ning's restful twilight, The noble harmony of thought and sad- ness. Adorn Giafar's brow. 19 ABASSA, Husli, here he comes. (Enter Al Raschid and Giafar.) AL RASCHID. I give to thee, loved minister and friend, The sweetest flower, fresh from Nature's bosom. My ovm Abassa. GIAFAB, Oh, most gracious Khalif, Too deep for thought thy kindness ! AL RASCHID. Yet thy merit Excels it. ABASSA. (Aside.) Throbs and thrills overwhelm me. (Loud.) My love to thee, Giafar ; and to thee. Most noble brother, lasting gratitude! AL RASCHID. This bond, like Sirius and Aldebaran Sliines in our heav'n, a constellation fair. Oh, may it never fade ! The Christians fancy,^ The deity is triune and, though mystic 2Q The thought, yet do I clearly now per- ceive That as in man, who but reflects his Maker, The body, mind and soul are linked in one. So harmony is triune. Thou, Abassa, The form most perfect, while Giafar's mind Is wedded to it ; and the soul myself Who thus completes the circle. ABA8SA. Sacred Union, Which Allah may protect ! GIAFAB. And guide the feeble steps Which Haroun's will leads on to 'Na,- ture's brink And calls a sudden halt ; 'twixt soul and sense. Contending billows, may our ship be firm. True to its chart! AL BASCHID. Thou dost not doubt, Giaf ar. That thou wilt keep the oath? GIAFAB. I pledged my life! 21 ALBASCHID, I hav^e thy word, Abassa ? ABAS8A. Aye, my honor! AL RASCHID, Raise then the veil, Hasfana, that love's ray May fall undimmed upon Giafar's way ! HASFANA. The flowers seek the sunshine, The rivers the sea, The birds hasten southward. The heart moves to thee. A palm in the desert, A star on night's brow, A dream in the darkness, Beloved, art thou! The night-clouds that vanish Make way for the dawn — (Lifting the veil.) The sun is arising. The veil is withdrawn. GIAFAB, Oh wondrous vision! Here's a world undreamed of! 22 AL BASCHID, Thine to admire, yet never to possess; At fair Abassa^s side be hence thv «> throne, Keep it unstained 'gainst others and — thyself! And now in discourse, undisturbed, but brief. Give wing to love, while on the sunset's gold My soul will rise to Allah, and to Him Commend your purpose. (Stepping toward the balcony in the rear of the apartment, where he remains standing with folded arms, his eyes toward the city.) ABASSA. Art thou truly mine? GIAFAB. More than I reckoned. Many a lovely maiden IVe met, yet none like thee. In poems only Ideals, such as thou, have their abode. ABASSA. And thou, the great Giafar, to whose will The world bows in submission — 23 GIAFAB, Captive, aye, AYithin tlij arms! ABAS8A. Would thou wert wholly mine ! My heart — a snow-flushed rivulet, o'er- flomng Its narrow bed — expands into a sea Of boundless bliss. GIAFAR. Oh, beautiful Abassa ! I who amid a life, with laurels laden, Have longed for sounds beyond sweet music's plea. For stars that fade not and for fragrant flowers. Untouched by autumn; in thy lovely presence Do grasp the depth unfathomed of the soul For bliss eterne. 'Tis nature's tender promise Of worlds to come. ABA8SA, Oh, could I linger ever Close by thy side ! 24 GIAFAB. Alas, my hasty pledge Receives a troubled message from the heart ; Would we had never met ! ABASSA, How's this, Giaf ar ? ^ GIAFAB. Think of our vows ! ABASSA. Alas! AL RA8CHID. (Coming toward them.) ^Tis time to part. The twilight waits impatient for the night And wooes the evening-star. It gives me grief To mar your pleasures, but I must be firm. (Draws his scimitar.) Thus resting side by side two envied mortals Do symbolize to me the truth divine That on her throne, unshaken by the senses The soul can reign supreme. And here, between you 25 I place this sword, the emblem of my will. The line is sharply drawn and by this weapon I swear that whosoever dares to shift it, Is doomed to die ! GIAFAR, Thou hast Giafar's oath; Whene'er my purpose falters, I'm pre- pared For AzrieFs realm. (Taking Abassa's hand and kissing it rev- erently.) This little hand shall guide me ! ABASSA. To light and love ! Sing us a song, Ilasfana. Thy voice, like the melodious bird of Ajjem, Gives balsam to the soul and calls us gently To dreamland's shore, where memory and hope. Two changeless stars, illuminate the night. HASFANA, (Singing.) The stars with thousand golden eyes Keep silent watch o'er thee; A gentle night-wind softly sighs Its languid melody. The flowers exhale their amorous balm; The birds dream in their nest; The trees are still and moonlight calm Enfolds the earth in rest. My heart alone doth wildly move Mid silence, wide and deep, It seeks its rest, where thou, sweet Love, \^niere thou, sweet Lov^e, dost sleep. ALBASCHID, Farewell, Abassa ! ABASSA. Brother, fare thee wellt And thou, Giafar, who like lightning brightened My sad horizon, passest all too soon Into the clouds, but in the aftershine Of memory remainest ever mine. GIAFAB. Farewell! And by those love-lit eyes I'll measure Henceforth the rise and fall of pain and pleasure ! (Sinking on his knee, and kissing Abassa's hand, remains motionless.) 27 AL BASCHID. (Impatiently.) Enough ! (As Al Raschid and Giafar reach the doorway, Giafar casts a parting look upon Abassa and disappears slowly.) ZULEIKA, Tell me, Abassa ? ABASSA, What would' st know, Zuleika ? ZULEIKA. If ripened fruit hangs o'er a starving What is his impulse ? ABASSA, Why, he'll eat, Zuleika. ZULEIKA. If thou put'st parched lips to a cooling stream, What wiU they do ? ABASSA, They probably will drink. ZULEIKA, If pitch and flame are thrown into the straw. What dost expect? 28 ABASSA. I think there'd be a fire. ZULEIKA. If two young bodies on a silk-soft couch Can coo and woo, what thinkest thou, Abassa ? ABAS8A. On this, Zuleika, I have never thought. ZULEIKA. Aye, do not think, for: Thinking would be doing, And doing would be lying. And lying would be dying — Thus ends the sorrv wooing! Ha! Ha! ABA88A. For shame ! Out of my sight ; Zuleika ! ZULEIKA, Ah, proud Abassa, think'st thou thus to humble The priestess of the fates ! I must obey ; But all thy haughty dreams are doomed to crumble Thy ill-starred pledges destined to de- cay; I've been thy slave, thy pastime and thy nurse ; Beware ! Zuleika may yet be thy curse ! 29 ABA8SA, Ha! Dost defy me? I, the Kbalifs sister, Will tolerate no scorn ; slaves, lead her hence. ZULEIKA. (To the slaves.) Back, cowards, or I'll scorch your sex- less shanks ! (The eunuchs stand horrified. Zuleika moves slowly toward the exit; she raises a cur- tain with one hand and remains standing, her eyes on Abassa.) Thou art Abassa; I the devil's bride; Henceforth to humble thee, shall be my pride ! Dare to oppose me ! (All stand spell-bound.) END OF FIRST ACT. 30 Act II. SCENE — Sarazen army camping. It is dawn. Omar's tent in the center. Two guards in the foreground. Enter Abu Nuwas. FIB8T GUARD. Stand and make known thyself, ere thou go'st on. ABU NUWAS. I am the laureled bard of Haroun's court. SECOND GUARD. Then thou art also barred from Omar's camp. FIRST GUARD. Give us the password. ABU NUWAS. (Raising his lyre.) Tut ! The lyre admits me. FIRST GUARD. I am no liar, nor willing to admit thee. ABU NUWAS. Hush, friends! Here comes a lady. Better guard 31 Against a tapering limb and love-lit eyes, Than draw your swords upon a harmless poet, Who battles but in words. (Enter Khaled and Obeidah; two black slaves carry a litter.) OBEIDAH, Put down the litter ! (Seeing Nuwas.) How's this, friend Nuwas, why art not in Bagdad ? ABU NUWAS. I skim the universe and fly at random Upon my Pegasus from hell to heaven — The two antipodes of pompous nothing ! KHALED. Dost mean to say that heav'n is made of naught ? ABU NUWAS. Or its equivalent ; thy pious dreams. OBEIDAH. Thou'lt soon find out that hell's of dif- ferent stuff. ABU NUWAS. When thou get'st there, there will be real devils. 32 K HALED. Tis time thou mak'st a pilgrimage to Mecca. ABU NUWAS. Would I'd been born a dog instead of man! I should have hidden on the sacred steps And bit the solemn calves of kneeling pilgrims — A canine pastime which no gods resent. OBEIDAH. Enough of this ! (To the guards.) Where is Prince Omar's tent? FIB8T GUABD. (Pointing to the tent.) 'Tis this one; but the chief is resting still. ABU NUWAS, (Approaching the litter.) What soft-eyed beauty hid'st thou in this litter ? KEALED, Keep hands oif, I^^uwas! This is not for thee. ABU NUWA8. Thou art a statesman, Khaled, but kuow^st little Of poets' rights. KHALED. ^ Assert thy rights then, ISTuwas! If thou can'st conquer this our hidden beauty By song or eulogy, she shall be thine. ABU NUWA8. So fair a prize is worth a song; I'll try it (Sings.) The poet is the king of kings, He rules the world alone; Where'er he roams on fancy's wings, He builds himself a throne. Tlie stars serve as his coronet, His scepter is the lyre, And for a pastime he can set A million hearts afire. But, Love, I'd give this realm of bliss To thy all-ruling grace, If thou would'st grant me but one kiss. Or one sweet night's embrace. OBEIDAH, Thou coo'st in vain. 34 ABU NUWA8. Oh sweet divinity, Thy beauty's heavenly light disclose to me! (The curtain is withdrawn; Zuleika's face becomes visible.) ZULEIKA, Whose untamed tongue is wagging? ABU NUWAS. Oh ye gods ! IVe asked the devil for one night^s em- brace. For friendship's sake, Obeidah, take mv place. (Exit.) ZULEIKA. (Leaving the Litter.) Dismiss these witnesses ! OBEIDAH. (To the »uards and slaves.) Watch at some distance: Remove the litter hence ! (Exeunt guards and slaves.) ZULEIKA. (Holding out her hand to Obeidah.) First tlie reward. 35 OBEIDAH. (Giving her a bag of gold.) When all is done, I'll pay thee thrice I promised. ZULEIKA. Zuleika never fails ; you dig the pit And I will close the tomb upon the vic- tims; I'll hide beyond yon palm, where I can watch The origin and progress of the plot — Fate ever finds Zuleika on the spot. (Steps behind the palm and crouches down.) KHALED. This is the den, where the young lion sleeps ; Ere morning he will roar. OBEIDAH. His angry paw AVill find the prey well fed. These Barmecides Usurp each place of power in the em- pire. Yahia first, and then this sprout Giaf ar ; Aye, Fadhel will be next. The Persian witchcraft Unbrains the Sultan, words ; Let's act. I am tired of 36 KHALED, Quite true. The camel cliews the cud, But man should act upon one good di- gestion. OBEIDAH. The trick is simple; watch the word ^^Abassa'' Encrims'ning Omar's cheek ; then name Giafar And place the two upon a soft-downed couch — Ha ! Ha ! 'Tis quite enough ! KHALED, Thou claim'st the melon And mak'st me feed on peels ; would'st be Vizier; 'Tis likely thou'lt succeed. But where's the profit For me of this most dubious adventure ? OBEIDAH. The onion first and afterwards the date ! Trust thou to me. KHALED. Is there some cause to fear, That Omar, learning that the Khalif managed The whole affair without Giaf ar's wish, Might prove forgiving? 37 OBEIDAH, Omar likes Giafar, But loves Abassa; note the difference. KHALED, And if he's told that thds portentous marriage Is merely of the mind ? OBEIDAH. He'll ne'er believe it ! Think'st thou that man, three-quarters animal, Can please his palate w^ith a pale-faced promise Near Bagdad's ripened fruit? Thou art a wit! KHALED. Yet Haroun thinks it. OBEIDAH. 'Tis because Giafar Has singed his sense with laagic flames of Balkh. For years the Barmecides controlled as priests The ancient Bactria. This witchcraft, Khaled Sustains their treachery. Oh^ how I hate them ! KHALED. We're trifling with these flames ! OBEIDAH. Have courage, Khaled ! Place ostrich-like the eggs into the sand ; The sun will hatch them. Omar must be told That the event is still kept in suspense ; This will arouse the demons; for a fact, Though bitter, weighs much lighter on the mind Than happ'nings still within the reach of action. OMAR. (Stepping out of his tent) Who jars the balmy stillness of the night With irksome babble? Speak! What brings vou hither ? OBEIDAH. Our friendship. KHALED. And a weighty mission ! OMAR. Ah! Old friends, indeed ! Pray how is life in Bagdad ? 39 In these love-longing nights, when moonlight showers Its tender rajs upon the sleeping plains, Mv sonl takes wing and soars o'er time and space Back to its lofty domes and mirarets. Fond recollections! KHALED. Wilt thou soon return ? OMAB, iSTot till I come as victor. I^icopherus, The Roman rebel, twice has been de- feated. But rallying his forces, on the morrow Will make a final stand. Then with the laurels Of conquest on my brow I'll come tri- umphant To meet the Khalif . OBEIDAH. And thy fair Abassa. OMAR. Speak not of her; too rapturous the thought ! KHALED. Thou would'st do well to hurry. 40 OMAR. Why thy urging? OBEIDAH. The Sim gone down, the moon soon takes his place. OMAB. You make me curious; speak no more in riddles. OBEIDAH, Our lips would fain conceal the sorry secret. OMAR, This grim suspense is torture ; give me facts. KHALED, A friend betrayed thee. OMAR, Ha ! A friend, a traitor ? The paradox is striking, yet unmeaning. I have but one friend, Khaled, many others Whose presence I may cherish and whose favors I know to value. But they gently pass From off the narrow stage of my exist- ence. 41 And leave no mark behind. But this my friend, The only friend I ku:»w in all the world Could no more be a traitor than the sun, Abandoning his luster, turn to ashes. Fear not, then, Khaled, to make known the snake Which strikes me unawares^ and I will crush it. OBEIDAH. Hast spoken like a man. ^ame then thy friend And I will name thy traitor. OMAR. Daring challenge ! I have no friend besides — Giafar ! Ha! OBEIDAH. OMAR. KHALED. Prepare to hear the worst. He is the traitor. OMAR. May Allah burn thy tongue! Thou liest. 42 KHALED. (Laying his hand on the hilt of his sword.) Beware ! OBEIDAH. Peace, friends! Reserve your swords for better purpose. The truth should not offend. While thou in battle Fought'st for the crescent's glory, this Giafar, Lured by Al Raschid's favor, boldly asked Abassa's hand. OMAR. (Drawing his scimitar.) Obeidah, see this blade ; Thou i?:now'st it well, for many a time we fought In battle side by side. Would thou had'st thrust it Into this heart, ere thou had'st thus used strangely Giaf ar's name ! l^ow mark me ; if thou liest This self-same blade will pierce thy in- most soul And cut thy body into thousand atoms And smite the very ground to dust in- visible Where thou hast bled. 43 OBEIDAH, Waste not tliy strength on words; I'll furnish proof. OMAR. Then hurry. For my heart Craves sudden truth. Giafar! Who'd believe it ? KEALED, Hide not thy noble brow in agony, Deaf to our words. The time is short and precious; Prompt action is required, if thou wilt yet Ketard Giafar's plans. The Khalif lingers In doubt between his friendship and the pride Which, as an Abasside, he owes his sister. Come thou to Bagdad, for thyself alone Can change the treacherous current— OMAR. May it drag Me downward to a lightless destiny ! (Rising.) See ye the Eastern Star in the horizon ? It issues in the bloody day of battle; Today I'll spur my Arab o'er the corpses 44 Of thousands and my scimitar will carve Its grim designs upon my pallid foes — Tomorrow ope the gates of Bagdad wide For Omar comes triumphant and as victor Demands the prize ! 'Tis death or fair And now, farewell ; the sadness of this hour O'erwhelms my heart! Forgive scant courtesy — My soul seeks solace in its solitude! (Re-enters tent.) OBEIDAH. The scheme is excellent; that wild young lion, With passion roused, will tear Giafar's heart To thousand shreds, when he will learn, 'tis done. KHALED, Yet thou wert wise to keep the whole truth from him. His all too generous heart might hesi- tate To sacrifice the friends whom thus he loves E'en to Ahassa. 45 OBEIDAE, Khaled, think it not. Blood is peculiar stuff; it nurses rea- son And strangles it as well. Men are but animals Where woman is concerned. A pretty skin Turns friends to deadly rivals. Omar raised The veil of Bagdad's beauty ; saw those eyes Black as the night and deeper than the sea Those eyes which, flaming, could set worlds afire With violent passion, till a heap of ashes Would substitute this globe. I say he's doomed. KHALED, 'Tis strange he uttered not a single word About Giaf ar, save that he did love him. OBEIDAH. Oh, scent no nightmares ! He's the per- fect " tool To do us service, w^iile, the storm blown over, 46 We court the calm and bargain for the spoils. (Exeunt.) OMAR. (Leaving the tent and seating himself under a palm tree in the foreground.) I am alone — and yet I'm not alone. Despair, which shadow-like e'er dogs my footsteps, Has now a cloven tongue, proclaiming grimly, A twofold curse ; Abassa and Giaf ar ! She who amid the din of battle lured me To rise or ruin and whose conquest only Sustained my struggling self — she's lost to me! And he, the friend whose handgrasp meant new life, Who ruled my thought, my will, my in- most self. Takes smiling now the pearl for whose possession I've fathomed oceans and defied the stars ! 47 Yet is thy grief with reason wedded, Omar? There is no breach of promise, save the crumbling Of pleasant dreams, born of thine own conceit. And still HE knew, SHE knew that their embrace Would crush this heart between them — Oh, my passion ! (Enter.) A MESSENGER. The Khalif sends to Omar Allah's blessing ! OMAR. What is thy mission? MESSENGER. Emp'ror Nicopherus Has sued for peace. The fury of thy sword Has filled with terror the retreatino; army. And ere thy scimitar, once more un- sheathed, Will deal a deathblow to thy bleeding foe. He seeks submission's chance. 48 OMAR. And was it granted? MESSENGER, The Khalif argued with his counsellors And counting on thy bravery, con- tended That IS^icopherus should be wholly crushed. But, listening to Giafar, who for peace Plead long and earnestly, he chose to grant The enemy's prayer. Thou hast been ordered To Bagdad to accept the Khalifas favors. OMAR. Assure the Khalif of my loyalty. His word my law ! (Exit Messenger.) OMAR. (Alone.) Alas! My dream of fame Thus crumbles into naught; return Ere yet the wreath is won. ZULEIKA, (Stepping forward.) But just in time To keep the ripened fruit from burst- ing. 49 OMAR. Thou art the voice of fate that breaks like thunder Upon the sultry stillness of my thought. ZULEIKA. I will make known the pathway of the stars, If thou wilt listen. OMAR. To thy words, Zuleika, Inspired by magic lore, I bow with reverence. ZULEIKA. Abassa shall be thine, the fates have willed it ! OMAR. Oh messenger of bliss ! Guide thou my footsteps ! ZULEIKA. But ere thou boldest her lovely form embraced. Thou must fulfill the will of destiny By one brave act. OMAR. Whate'er it be, Zuleika, It shall be done. 50 ZULEIKA, Exterminate the snake Which, in thy absence, poisoned Har- oun's heart Against thy rightful claims. Kill thou Giafar. OMAR. It cannot be. ZULEIKA. If thou resistest fate, The hand suspended will with double force Fall on thine own head; Allah is not mocked ! OMAR. What proof hast thou to justify this act? ZULEIKA. Vainglorious mortal, can'st thou fathom dreams ? Can'st read the mystic fiber of the hand, Can'st find a meaning in the book of stars, Or hear the noiseless treading: of the fates ? Bend thou thy haughty knee to Allah's mandate! OMAR. Prove thou to me Giafar's treachery And I will be the tool of destinv. 51 ZULEIKA. Zuleika^s vision far transcends all rea son. As heaven o'ertowers the earth. Yet to thj blindness I'll condescend. The guileless messen- ger Betrayed the secret in his simple speech : Who calls thee slyly from the field of glory ? It is Oiafar who thus quenched thy star, Lest his might fade before the brighter light! OMAR. Ah ! I begin to see ; it was Giaf ar, This loving friend of mine, who want- ed peace. Lest Omar's laurels might yet win the prize, Abassa's couch. The spider-web is rent And all the anxious insects of revenge Have open passage. Be on guard, Gia- far, While thou preparest Omar's Love to wed. His sword is flashing o'er thy bridal bed. END OF SECOND ACT. Act III. SCENE— A hall in Giafar's palace. YAHIA. I greatly fear this love will be Ms ruin. E'er since he met Abassa, he seems al- tered In thought and mien. Unsteady is his eye, His cheeks are hollow and with falter- ing step He goes about his work. FADHEL. The Khalif, thinking That this effect was caused by weight of duty, Relieved him of the office of Vizier And giving me this place, reserved Giafar To be his private counsellor and friend. YAHIA. Ah, 'tis not work that blasts his brilliant brain. 'Tis love, which, like a storm, has raged most furious 63 Through the soft fabric of his tender soul. Alas! Cursed be the day when ITar- oun's favor Gave birth to schemes that war with ^Nature's law. To love and not to love, to breathe the fragrance Of sweetest flower, yet never to desire it, To see the ripened fruit and not to taste it, To hold Abassa's form and not possess it— This is a task too strenuous for the gods ! (Enter Giafar.) GIAFAR. My noble father and thou, loyal Fadhel, Be welcome. Much I crave your kindly presence More now than ever! For my former self Lies buried at the gates of the Seraglio. FADHEL, Would thou had'st never passed the fatal threshold! GIAFAR. Oh, Fadhel, had I known that a volcano Lies slumbering 'neath the fragile crust of reason 54 Which, bursting forth in flames, will turn to ashes The crumbling structures of our higli resolves — If I had known this, I should ne'er have ventured On dangerous seas, but in the placid harbor Of stainless thought remained securely anchored. YAHIA. How deeply I do feel thine agony ! The promises of life are still before thee, Giafar, while my hair, grown gray in service To Haroun and the State, foretells the evening. The coming sunset. ^N'ot for me I fear. The aged palm in vain longs for the spring. To find its strength renewed. But thou, Giafar, Upon whose mighty thought this realm is founded. And whom the future ever beckons on- ward To greater heights, hast chosen Phae- ton-like 55 A dangerous plaything. If thy purpose wavers No power, my son, can check the hand of fate. GIAFAB, Thy words I hear, oh. Father, but while reason, A willing listener, would glad consent, My heart points like a needle to the magnet, To her alone! FADHEL Must, then, a pretty cheek, A curl of hair, a soft-skinned little hand Eoot up the ancient tree of Barmecides, That, seasoned with the royal blood of Persia, Sprang from the soil ere yet the pro- phet rose Proclaiming Allah's will? YAHIA. The Magian priesthood. Which in the sacred Bactria held coun- cil With the Eternal and above the earth Rose on the wing of prayer — their blood, Giafar, 56 Flows in thy veins. Oh, may the thought inspire thee To check the baser self; their spirit guide thee Upon the slippery path 'twixt soul and sense To final triumph! OIAFAB. (Taking Yahia's hand.) Allah bless this hand Which led me safely through the gold- en years Of youth and childhood, when the thoughtless heart Can treasure nothing save its own de- sires. I grew to manhood and the cares of office. The jealousies of men, their scorn and envy. Infesting ev'ry hour; the loneliness which islands Each heart upon the shoreless sea of chance — All this has taught me how to value love. And of such love the purest, most un- selfish. The parent's. Father, place once more This hand, now trembling not with age alone. 57 But with emotion, on Giafar's brow Conferring strength ! (Kneeling.) YAHIA. (Blessing Giafar.) May heaven grant thee peace!. Whate'er betide thee, hapless son, thy father Will share thy downfall, as he shared thy glory. And as thy life has ever been the sun- shine Of davs agone, so when the shadows fall, A star on midnight's sky, in fadeless luster Will shine thy father's love. Farewell, Oiafar! GIAFAR. (Arising.) Father, fare thee well! And thou, my Fadhel, Rest in assurance that, if mortal will Can turn the tide of blood in reason's channel, It shall be done! 58 FADHEL. I judge thee not ; I warn thee. Yet from my heart of hearts I curse the thought, Which, severing Nature's self, made thee the martyr In the unequal struggle! Fare thee well! (Exeunt Fadliel and Yahia.) GIAFAR, (Alone.) I must not yield to it. I must be firm. I gave my word ; my honor is at stake. My father's life, my brother's, aye, Abassa's, Will be made subject to the Khalif's wrath ; I must be firm. Base demons of the blood Obey Giafar's will. I, ruler of the empire, Ruled by the flesh ? If I could but deny it. But, oh, the truth undoes my boasting speech — Abassa ! (Sinks upon a divan and buries his head in his hands.) (Rising.) Ha! I've found the clew; I will not See her again; will shun her lovely presence ; Will starve imagination, till the flame Will die for want of fuel; I am re- solved To make this sacrifice. I must. I will. (Enter.) AL BASCHID. May Allah's sunshine scatter o'er thy path The rays of peace ! GIAFAB, And make thy love Unchangeable ! AL BASCHID. Love without loyalty Can profit little. GIAFAB. Thou hast given both In amplest measure to thy lowly ser- vant. AL BASCHID. Xot that I raised thee to a dizzy height And laid our mighty empire at thy feet, Proved my affection as did my resolve To cast aside all barriers of tradition And lift the veil for thee of fair Abassa. 60 GIAFAB. Kor anything this mind has e'er de- signed In solving weighty questions and in guiding The ship of state proved such complete devotion As did my oath to call Abassa mine Yet ne'er to own her. AL BA8CHID. 'Not of flesh and blood I could have asked thus boldly to re- nounce Life's sweetest dreams. But thou, di- vine Giafar, Whose breath is thought, whose very soul a poem, Leav'st in the spirit's eagle-flight be- hind The common clay. OIAFAR. A eulogy which lauds The hero, yet omits the man, is painful. AL RASCHID. Thy modesty would e'en excel thy merit. If that were possible. Ere I depart 61 I would remind thee that this very night We are to see Abassa. After sunset Meet at my palace and the moonlight hours Will pass in sweetest concourse. How I love This green oasis midst the desert's dust, Where I recuperate and gather strength For life's stern duties. Till tonight, farewell ! (Exit.) GIAFAR. (Alone.) Fate is against me, vainly I rebel. I would not see Abassa, yet the will Of Haroun reigns supreme. I see the cliffs Which threaten shipwreck to my drift- ing bark And in this crucial hour this arm, by Nature Unnerved, lets go the rudder. Nay, I will Defy the Sultan's wish, plead illness, Fadhel, Thy pride inspires me, ere the Barme- cides Accept defeat, all hell must come to battle. 62 (Enter.) ABU NUWAS. I come to have you solve for me a prob- lem. GIAFAE. Pertaining to the State? ABU NUWAS. Aye, to the man That made it, to — the great Giafar. OIAFAB. Xo longer great. ABU NUWAS. This is the very problem. Thy lyre which, unexcelled for many years, Has thrilled the hearts of men, is strangely mute ! Thy eloquence, a memory! And the wisdom, Which guided Haroun and his realm alike, o'To longer stirs the council of the great. Why is't that Bagdad's favorite never smiles ? GIAFAR. All this is natural. Life's empty plaud- its Will tempt but him whose brow was never wreathed ! And as regards mj songs, they ceased to be When dreams came true, just as the mountain stream Merged in the sea, no longer plays with pebbles. ABU NU WAS. Thou art in love — this is the common talk! But such a love! Ye gods! A whiiT of ether ! An evanescent glance and then — fare- well! A kiss uDon the eyelash, then — keep off! ' A shiver thj'ough the spine, and then — beware ! A glimpse of pretty limbs and then — enough ! This farce of Haroun starts a roar of laughter From Allah's throne to Satan's boiling- pots ; It makes the merry world wheel 'round with humor — And thou, the hero of the comedy, AVear'st such a sorry mien! This is too much ! (Bursts out laughing.) 64 GIAFAR, 1 know, thee, !N"iiwas, and thy reckless mocking To me is but a wave that laves a cliff. I have some honor and Giafar's pledge Must ne'er be broken ! ABU NUWAS. Words disarm me not. What are such promises ? Happiness comes first! If my poor arguments cannot convince thee, ni quote the Koran; be thou like the prophet Who, whensoe'er a new skin roused his passion. Had heaven provide for him a special vision : Great was Mohamet — piety and plea- sure. Opposing elements, he merged in one. GIAFAR. Tramp thou not like a hog on beds of flowers ; Thou livest for thy passing whims, but I Still aim to do on earth the will of Allah ! 65 ABU NUWAS. The will of Allah ? What a crutch for cant! Thou art not blind, Giafar, like the masses That wet with contrite tears the pro- phet's beard! The mosque contains not God, nor can the Koran Set boundaries to His word. He is the soul Of every throbbing life ; the flower that blushes Beneath the rising sun reflects His Being As much as does the star-eyed dome of heaven ! The soul of Allah quickens every stream. And moves the mother-bird to build her nest ; It vibrates in the song of nightingales And cools us in the balm of cypress groves. The soul of Allah wakes tlie poet's thoughts And to the lover whispers words of v/ooing, Until, overcome, he holds the glorious form 66 In his embrace. Believe me, oh Giaf ar, Such fond embrace is Allah's will as much As penitential prayers! GIAFAR. Thou art a poet, And I dwelled mid the Muses long enough, To know how to discern 'twixt words and facts, AMiere rhyme and rhythm rule. True to thy light Live on! But do not cloud my star of faith AA^ith philosophic mist. ABU NUWAS. It would not pain thee. Were not the voice familiar to thy heart. GIAFAR. Thy argument is echoed in my soul. Yet I oppose to it my claim to man- hood. I cannot lie. ABU NUWA8. Thou liest to thyself. If thou art true to Haroun; if to him Thou liest, thou art true to Allah's will. 67 Since thou must lie, Friend, follow my advice ; And live the lie that has in it some spice (Exit.) OIAFAR. (Alone.) Who sent this tempter here ? This mix- ture strange Of truth and error, loftiness and lust? He feels for me, he says, and I have reason To trust his word. Ave, I^uwas, could I fling Aside each scruple of my inner self, I should not suffer thus. I'd claim the body Of my fair spouse, as I have claimed her soul ! But to thy scof&ng nature I will prove. That o'er the flesh, held captive, rises Love! (Enter Omar.) GIAFAR. Praised be the Prophet! Is it thou, my Omar? ( As Omar enters Giaf ar rushes forward to greet him, but Omar assumes an attitude of haughty reserve.) 68 OMAR, Xo longer thine; high mountains have arisen 'Twixt thee and me, since last we met as friends. GIAFAR. Thy speech is dark ; I do not grasp thy meaning. OMAR, Thou art a diplomat and subtle speeches Familiar to thy lips; but I, a soldier, Prefer the simpler way, the way of truth. GIAFAR, When shadows fall up( a a sorrowing Ijeart It craves a ray of love, just as the bird By tempests frightened, seeks the shel- tering tree. I never dreamed the deadly day w^ould dawn When thou would'st hesitate to grasp this hand. OMAR. Xor I. Amid the shifting race of men Thou wast to me the rock immovable Where love could cast its anchor and remain Secure forever. But, the fog dissolved, Truth finds the trap where fancy saw the drawbridge. GIAFAR, Speak'st thou of treachery? OMAB. Thou knew'st, Giaf ar, That I did love Abassa. Fatal flames Blazed from her eye into my inmost soul. I raised her veil bv force, I risked niv life, And since that day have oft in daring fight Sought sweet repose in death. But e'er victorious I rose from bloodiest strife. The Khalif honored My reckless courage and at last agreed That, if I crushed the rebel Mcopherus, He would accede to whatsoe'er I wished. I now return, by feverish longini"; spurred. To clasp Abassa's form in burning arms, And find that thou, of all my friends the dearest. Hast robbed the victor of his well-earned spoils. 70 Would I had never loA^ed thee, glad I^d plunge This oft-tried scimitar into thine heart — Oh, such revenge were sw^eet ! GIAFAR. Yet of the evils That trouble man, death, friend, is not the greatest. Thou dost me wrong. Abassa is my wife, Yet she is not ; the Khalif 's gift to me A star to be admired, yet not a form To be embraced. I speak sincerely, Omar: Take thou this gift, its raptures or its tortures ; I want it not. OMAR. Oh, let deception cease. There is no living man in earth or heaven, Who, near Abassa, could command the flood Of passion. Thou its subject art, Gia- far. As well as I, and ill becomes the role Of abstinence to one whose amorous ditties 71 Have filled the empire with voluptuous thought. GIAFAR. The day will come when every syllable Thus lightly uttered, like a dart of fire Will pierce thy memory. By all the stars Which shine in Allah's heav'n, I give my oath That all thy charges, based on love's delusion, Are void of ev'ry element of truth. OMAR. I did not come to argue ; not in words. In deeds I have excelled. Farewell, Giafar, Thou bid'st me trust in the impossible. Here is my hand, I will. If thou prove false, My sky is black ; meanwhile thou find'st in me An open friend or open enemy. (Exit.) GIAFAR. (Alone.) This seals my fate. 'Tis now for me to prove That friendship's true; that reason reigns supreme. 72 E'en in the blood's domain. I thank thee, Omar, With calmer eye I'll gaze in the abyss ; Thou judgest me, but judgest me amiss. (Enter Zuleika.) GIAFAR. What brings you here, Zuleika? What's thy mission? ZULEIKA. I come, a messenger. GIAFAR. Sent by Abassa? ZULEIKA. Come close to me (Whispers in his ear.) GIAFAR. Tomorrow night ! Ye gods ! ZULEIKA. The eunuchs have been bribed; the gates are open, A boat will take thee to the eastern side Of the Seraglio ; a slave will lead thee Hence to the chamber where Abassa sleeps. The moon is full tomorrow. After mid- night Thou art expected. 73 ZULEIKA. Thy heart, Abassa. GIAFAR, Does she expect me in her private cham- ZULEIKA. E'en on her conch — a paradise on earth ! GIAFAR. Hush, temptress, for thy words do frighten me ; I must not go. ZULEIKA. Is this thy final word ? Farewell ! (Makes ready to go.) GIAFAR. ; struggling with himself; when Zuleika reach- es the door.) Tell fair Abassa I will come ! So be it! ZULEIKA, (Leaving.) (Exit Zuleika.] 74 GIAFAR. (Alone.) All is lost ! The rock of reason, The thought of father, brother, friend and honor Hurled in this hungry grave! My storm-tried bark Bows to the winds. If I need pardon, mercy, May Allah grant it ! If defiance, bold- ness, I pray for that ! If treachery be better. Be that my fortune! Prayers are hol- low sounds In this grim hour. Shout and rejoice, Giafar, Tomorrow night will end this farce of thought ! 'Tis destined all, and as the river, reaching The ocean's edge, lists vainly to the wooing Of native springs, so I must hasten on ! (In the rear of the apartment is seen in dim outline the vision of xA.bassa.) My brain's aflame! Is that Abassa's form? Graceful and white, born of the dew of morn? Sweet image ! I embrace, I clasp thee ! Hence 75 Naught shall retard me. Cursed be suspense ! (Sinks fainting upon his couch; tlie vision vanishes.) (Enter Obeidah and Khaled, who have been concealed.) KEALED. He struggled obstinately. OBEIDAH, Yet I knew That blood would triumph, and Zulei- ka's message Served as a final blow. Our sweet Abassa Will be quite unprepared for bridal pastimes. Ere some new scruple calls Giaf ar back, Make haste and get young Omar on his track. END OF THIRD ACT. 76 Act IV. SCENE— The Seraglio. A part of the in- terior of the apartment is seen and a balcony revealing Hasfana dreamily gazing out on the starry heaven. The light of the full moon illumines the terrace and in the back- ground the outlines of the city. The interior shows Abassa asleep on a couch, Obeidah and Khaled stand near the entrance, but remain unseen by Hasfana. The apartment is illu- mined by hanging lamps, perforated with Oriental designs; a chafing-dish in the center, whence emanate the fumes of powdered myrrh and benzoin, HASFANA. How still the night ! It wafts its moon- lit dreams Upon the foliage of the cypress grove. Oh, blessed peace, come to this lonely heart ! (Singing.) Hast loved and longed and lost. Sad Heart, what would'st thou more? The spar by the tempest tossed Is drifting at last ashore. Art weary of tear and smile? Of the wreath of rose and thorn? Of the dream that pleases awhile, And passes as soon as bom? Like a child in an unknown land Dost wonder and worry and weep, Till Death with a mother's hand Kocks all thy sorrow^s to sleep. 77 OBEIDAH. Is all arranged ? KHALED, All, but the haughty Omar Declined to play his part; scorned my advice And asked me scoffing if I knew the difference Between a dagger and a scimitar. OBEIDAH, That devil wants a hell-fire of his own To roast in. Is he apt to come tonight ? KHALED. I told him all ; but he in senseless fury Paced up and down, a lion in his cage, And swore revenge. OBEIDAH. This simply means two nets To catch our bird in. Hark, here comes Giafar. 78 SCENE 2. (Omar leaps over the balustrade, is heard but not seen by Obeidah and Khaled.) HASFANA, (In greatest agitation.] Celestial vision! Oh, my heart! thou! (Hasfana has dropped the zither, and throws herself with head bowed, at the feet of Omar.) OMAR. The full-orbed moon has marked the hour ; surprise Is out of place. OBEIDAH. (Still thinking Omar to be Giafar.) The mouse is safely trapped Thou'rt caught, Giafar! Guard the hallway, Khaled, The Sultan's waiting at the eastern gate, I'll bring him hither. (Leaving.) KHALED. (Stopping him.) Stop! If he should leave Ere thou returnest. OBEIDAH. Then apply the poniard. 79 KHALED. Be quick. I need thee in this bloody hour. OBEIDAH. Fear nothing ! Come. (They disappear behind the drapery.) OMAB. (Who ])as looked silently and with folded arms upon the form of Hasfana.) Arise, the moonlight shadows Thy treach'rous eye. (Leading her into the center of the room.) Can'st look on me and blush not For the deceptive part thou play'st 'gainst me In this most complex plot? HA8FANA, So help me Allah! I know not, noble Omar, what thou meanest. OMAR. Ha! Calloused villain! Innocence becomes thee ! Thou knowest nothing of the full-orbed moon; Know'st nothing of the bridal night; know'st nothing Of this appointment ; aye, it were most strange 80 If thou had^st ever heard Giaf ar's name, Or of Abassa's love — HASFANA. Enough, Prince Omar! Crush not with iron heel the fragile flowers Of my sad love for thee ; I fain would take it With me, a stainless mem'ry, unto death. OMAR. Thou speak'st of sorrow, greater is mine own; I loved Abassa, and the end — HASFANA. 'Tis fate That rules the destiny of hearts, not choice. Abassa loves another — loves Giafar. OMAR. Dar^st thou thus name the truth with bold affront? HA8FANA. The Omar whom I knew would e'er demand it. 81 OMAR. Quite right; Hasfana, I am mad, for- give me; If thou dost love me, thou wilt pity me ; Thou know'st that there are hearts with single purpose; All else to them is naught. Thus did I cherish The picture of Abassa in my heart. HASFANA. And thus in mine, I ever dreamed of Omar! OMAR. Would that our love were better placed ; the fates Have willed it otherwise. Tell me, Hasfana, If ever love for me burned in thy heart, Know^st nothing of the meaning of this night ? HASFANA. I swear by all the stars, thou doubtest falsely. OMAR. Know'st nothing of Abassa's secret mes- sage, Know'st — HASFANA. oSTothing. 82 OMAR. Have they ever met alone? BASF AN A. They have — OMAR. And on licentious conch — HA8FANA, ^o, never! OMAR, Thou liest, maiden! ' HASFANA, Shame! Prince Omar, listen! They parted as they met, no carnal con- tact Has ever stained their vows. Giafar, firm, Though suffering; while Abassa, sweet- ly dreaming, Looked lovingly on him, who never ut- tered The fatal word. I am their witness, Omar — OMAR. Hark! There are footsteps. I must not be seen In these apartments. Let us be con- cealed Behind this drapery. (Hasfana and Omar behind tlie drapery, which partly obscures the terrace from the gen- eral view.) GIAFAB. (Stepping slowly into the room, and perceiving no one, approaches the divan where Abassa lies sleeping.) Thou dreamest, yet a maiden unpolluted By sensual embrace. Repose of inno- cence ! Nature in thee has formed her fairest image And stops perplexed. Would that my soul could fathom The meaning of this hour, much sought, much dreaded, 'Gainst which I prayed and wept and strove and struggled Until at last, a feather in the wind, I drifted hither ! I^Tow, may come what will. Death has no terrors after life has giv'n Its choicest fruit. Let fate prepare the worst ! (He stands musingly at the foot of the divan.) 84 ^ OF THE UNIVERSITY .OP OMAB. (Partly concealed.) Thou did'st not wholly lie, Hasfana; hatred Within me wars with pity. GIAFAR. (Kneeling and kissing Abassa.) With this kiss I wake thee, loved one, for this hour of bliss. OMAB. (Aside.) Oh, agony of rage! ABAS8A. (Awaking.) What sweet delusion! (Recognizing Giafar.) Thou here, beloved? Thou did'st send no word To tell me of it. GIAFAB. I received thy message; That was enough! OMAB. (Aside.) 85 bQ^c^SS^^ ABASSA. Thoughts invisible Thou must have turned to ministering angels. QIAFAB, (Agitated.) Did'st thou not send me word to meet thee Eight after midnight? ABASSA. Ever I do long For thy dear presence, and if heav'n were starred With million luminaries 'twere but dark While thou art absent. (Embracing him.) Many a night I craved To rest within thy arms, but pitying Thy soul's vast struggle and our dread- ed fate I kept the word a prisoner on my lips. GIAFAB. Be it no longer thus. The fates implac- able Have fully planned the pathway of our love. Dost thou remember — ABASSA, All we ever dreamed Since first we met. '' GIAFAB, But thou had'st loved another. ABAS8A. When I saw Omar, my young heart ex- panded In wondrous ecstasy. I loved his dar- His haughty mien and manners; like a flower, Which, long kept shaded, struggles to the sun, I nursed the thought of him in love- thrilled soul. OMAR. (Aside.) * This torture kills me. GIAFAR. Enviable Mortal ! Who witnessed love, the word surpass- ing sweet. Between thy lips, first bursting into bloom ! 87 ABA8SA, 'Twas passion, yet not love. Before met thee I had no soul ; I lived for beauty only Of form and face; it was my happiest moment To rise rejuvenated from the spray Of marble fountains, while the black, long curls Were streaming downward o'er my snowy form, A brilliant contrast. I would stand for hours Before the mirror as if fascinated By my own image. It was this Abassa Whom Omar loved and who in turn loved Omar! OMAB. (Aside.) Oh, flames of hell ! ABASSA. Then thou did'st come, Giafar, A palm at noontide. Why I loved thee ? Vainly I would express it. First I loved thy thoughts. Which, like great stars, arose in my hor- izon. Kevealing worlds unknown; then 'twas thy presence, Thy winged and wondrous words, which came like music To all my soul. And when sad longing hovered, A darkening cloud upon thy lofty brow, My very self would melt into a balsam To give relief. Take thou this heart, this life; 'Tis thine alone. OMAR, (Aside.) Damliation ! I am raving ! GIAFAR. To linger in the twilight of our dreams, 'Twere bliss indeed ! But, ah, the dusk o'ertakes us. Together, Love, we're journeying toward the night; I am deceived ; here is some treachery. If 'tis not thou who led my frail step hither. Some villain plans my downfall. Let's be quick! Abassa, thou art mine; prove then to me This fondest truth. The entrance may be guarded; We ne'er again may see the day-star's rise. Yet, ere the wing of Azriel enfolds us, Press me in Love's embrace unto thine heart ; And doubly sweet will be the night's brief raptures. Death waiting at the door. ABA8SA. Giafar, frightened I do behold thy face. Desist ; 'tis mad- ness! Flee, if thou art betrayed! Too dear thy life Thus to be flung aside! GIAFAR. (Embracing her violently.) It may be madness. But, Love, each minute counts. Thy hesitation May rob me of the conquest which I merit By all the agonies of sleepless nights; By all the tempests of this blasted brain ; By all I risked and ruined, loved and lost In this unequal strife ! On to the bridal couch ! Tomorrow — to the grave! 90 ABASSA. The sword of Haroun — GIAFAB. Aye, I fear it not. I'd rather clasp thee in my arms and die In this embrace, than see thy virgin form Deflowered by the ravishes of time. ABAS8A. But think of thy renown — GIAFAB, The cheap applause Of gaping throngs has been as naught to me, Since first I loved thee ; oh, my blood's afire! I cast my name and fame into this cauldron Of boiling passions. ABASSA. Do but think, Giafar, Thou may'st regret — 91 GIAFAB. For this I'll have no time ; I'll die tomorrow. But this one sweet hour The envious gods shall not withhold from me; I want to feel these sno^vy arms around me, And fall asleep upon thy billowed breast ; Aye, when thy black and burning eyes will close, I know that from my life the last star vanished And naught is left but death ! ABASSA, I'll go with thee ! GIAFAB. I feel a fever creeping through my brain. ABASSA. Ah, 'tis Zuleika's curse! Love is a flame. She said, of hell and passion born; it seeks Relief by spreading its contagious spell Upon another; when the fire is quenched, 92 A vampire sucks the essence of the soul And turns the darling dream into a nightmare. Desist — GIAFAB, It is too late. The wild volcano Is bursting forth, and its destructive lava Creeps through my veins ; be mine, thou tempting form, Or I must die of longing — ABASSA. (Rising, very serious.) Whatever thou askest Is thine. IVe planned in many love- lorn hours For this sweet moment. On the eastern side, Whence thou can'st see the dawn climb o'er the hills, Aud watch the glimmer of the morning star; I've set apart a room for thee and me. There we'll repair for this enthrilling night. Half star, half cloud! 93 (Pushing aside a heavy curtain which reveals a broad starway. Abassa leads the way and reaches the first landing. Looking back at Giafar, who stands hesitatingly at the foot of the stairway.) Ascend, it is thy wish ! GIAFAB. I now can say my creed in one short breath. Two things are certain only : Love and Death! (He reaches the landing and lingers there in an intense embrace. They disappear slowly.) OMAR. (Stepping into the foreground.) Thou told'st the truth, Hasf ana, yet the truth Will hardly aid thy cause. It is enough That even now the oath is being broken, So gravely pledged. EA8FANA. Yet did'st not hear him say He was betrayed, and that he bravely struggled Until some messenger lured him to ruin? OMAR. Yet both confessed that often they had planned Upon this feast of love. 94 HA8FANA. Thy flaming eye Bodes ill for all; think of the fair Abassa. OMAB, It is this very thought that drives me mad. HASFANA. Giaf ar was thy friend. OMAR. The very reason Why I now hate him as I once did love him. (Drawing his scimitar.) Show me the way. HASFANA. By Allah, thou art mad. OMAR. Where is this couch of lust; show me the way. HA8FANA. (Throwing herself at his feet.) IVe plead for fair Abassa, whom thy love Should e'er protect ; and for the doomed Giafar, ^Vho's been a friend to thee in storm and calm. 95 It profits little. Would a spark could fly From the consuming flame that burns for thee In this, my hapless heart, into thine own — Then might I add; for thy Hasf ana's Eefrain from violence; alas, the plea is vain ! OMAR. (Impatient.) I pity thee, but by the gods, Pm raving With wild revenge; think, Hasfana, e'en now He clasps her in his arms — (Dragging Hasfana by the arm.) Show me the way! HASFANA, Woe to the man who crawls that he might rise! Is this Prince Omar, whom the world admires As the great champion of dauntless courage ? He turns assassin and on helpless women Lets out his violence. (Aside.) 96 Ha, I'll mislead him ! (Pushing aside the curtain which leads to the exit where Khaled lies concealed.) Proceed then — here's the way — the door is open 1 (Omar rushes into the hallway with sword un- sheathed.) OMAB, (Behind the curtain.) AVho is this snake which thus from ambush strikes ? Stand; coward! (Fighting behind the scene. Khaled, pushed backward, becomes visible, then falls.) KHALED. Vm undone! A fatal error! I took thee for Giafar. (Voice grows faint.) All is lost! Obeidah left me in the lurch. I'm dy- ing! (Becomes unconscious.) H ASF AN A, The fight has roused the eunuchs, many voices Are drawing near. Flee, ere thou art discovered ; Who enters here, is lost; e'en thou, Prince Omar. 97 OMAR. '- A timely council ! (Rushes to the terrace, but halts suddenly.) Ha ! They watch the garden ! Must I who've sought a thousand deaths in battle Now perish like a rat on burning ship ? HASFANA, I'll save thee, Omar. OMAR. Nay, I'd rather die ! Our ways are parting and to owe my life To thy too gen'rous hand which to pos- sess The fates declined to me; this, proud Hasfana, Is more than Omar's honor will permit. HASFANA. Thou can'st repay my aid, not with thy heart, For 'tis not thine to give, but with an off' ring More gen'rous and in keeping with thy kind. Escape and soften Haroun's angry mood Towards the lovers who in death- thrilled transports E'en noAY make ready for a cruel fate. OMAR Abassa and Giaf ar — ah, within me They rouse all hell ! HA8FANA. The Sultan is to blame. He forced this union on Giaf ar's heart. OMAR. Did not Giafar ask Abassa's hand? HASFANA. He merely bowed to Haroun's will, not thinking That there was woman who could melt his heart As did Abassa. OMAR. 'Twas a grave mistake ! HASFANA. We must not dally longer ; I hear foot- steps Approaching fast. Take thou this ring and show it To him who guards the outer entrance, whither This hallway leads. (Pushing aside a curtain.) Upon its recognition He'll let thee pass. Begone ! 99 OMAB, Come thou with me ! HAS FAN A. If thou did'st love me, to the brink of death ; !N'ow — never ! OMAB. Maiden brave, how can I thank thee ! HASFANA. Protect my hapless mistress and her lover. OMAB. Thou shalt excel me not in generous deeds ; I'll save them, though the heart within me bleeds! (Exit.) OBEIDAH. (Entering with guards.) Who desecrates these sacred halls with bloodshed HASFANA. (Pointing to Khaled.) A spy who paid the final penalty. 100 OBEIDAE, (Recognizing Khaled.) He's stirring still; (Stabbing him.) Thus perish infamy ! : KHALED. Obeidah — traitor ! (Dies.) OBEIDAH. Where's the hand that slew This wretch contemptible? HASFANA. He offered insult And when he dared, I struck him with my dirk. OBEIDAH. A sword has wounded him. I want the truth. HASFANA. It was thine own sword then, there was no other. OBEIDAH. Stand thou aside; hey, eunuchs search the house, The Khalif does command it; stop at nothing. Abassa's room demands your special care. 101 EASFANA. (Defiantly.) Thou darest not; I am my mistress' guard And I permit no insult — OBEIDAH. (Pushing her aside.) Place the chains Around this pretty hand. HA8FANA. (Drawing a dagger.) The first who dares — Attack a hungry lion with a reed; 'Twere wiser than to show a weaponed front To one prepared to die. VOICES. Peace, here's the Sultan ! (Enter Al Raschid.) AL RASCHID. What's this disturbance ? house been searched? Has the OBEIDAH. We were about to do so, when this slave Dared to oppose us. 102 AL RA8CHID, Put lier into prison. Will all my realm rebel and every up- start Defy the mighty Euler of the Faithful ? On with the search! (A curtain is pushed aside; Giafar steps for- ward, calm and with dignity.) Alas ! 'Tis thou, Giafar ! GIAFAR. Great Khalif , trouble not the innocent ; I am thy prisoner. END OF FOURTH ACT. >S^X^^^^))(g^^^)9^^^%Q^[^^^S 103 Act V. SCENE— Interior of the Sultan's Palace. Al Raschid in the center, Obeidah at his side. Officials of State assembled. AL BASCHID. The ship of State demands a steady hand Amid the treacherous cliffs that threaten it. We've warred with foreign foes and e'er victorious The crescent rises o'er a wondering world. The emp'ror Nicopherus seeks, defeated At Omar's hand, humiliating peace. This has been granted. When our foes are crushed It does behoove us to be merciful. With greater care we view the inner storm Which has swept o'er us. Grand Vizier Giafar Has proved himself unworthy of the height Where I had placed him ; he has hurled himself 104 Into a vast abyss. The love I showed him Has been the dirk with which he stabbed his Master; Much have I loved him; I now hate him more. Bring in the prisoner. (Enter Giafar with guards.) It is but justice That thou shoukVst speak ere yet thy doom is sealed. GIAFAB. I, shipwrecked on a desert isle, in vain Look for the leafy grove of sympathy. The sun of justice sends its scorching ray Upon my heart, laid bare, yet it shall lighten As well as burn. The vow I broke, I gave 'Not knowing that there is a Power Su- preme Which rules the Sultan and his slaves alike — A power that tosses us from dust to dust And lights the interval with passion's ray !N'ot minding our intents. If any mercy 105 Is granted me, I pray for her whose life To mine is sadly linked. AL RASCHID. To tliee, Obeidah, I leave his punishment. Let justice rule ! Lead off the prisoner; his presence pains us. (Obeidah follows the guards, leading Giafar away to the door, and gives some private instnictions.) (Enter Omar.) Here comes the glory of the Moslem host, A sunbeam bright to cheer this cloudy day, Prince Omar. OMAR, Haroun, what I've done is little Compared with what I'd do, if chance permitted. AL RASCHID. We know this, Omar, and to show how well We treasure thy proud deeds, ask for a favor And whatsoe'er it be, we'll gladly grant it, 106 E'en to the very limits of our realm. OMAR, Too great thy kindness. AL RASCEID. Name whatever thou wilt. OMAR. Great Khalif, I could ask the fairest pearls Which slumber in the deep of all the oceans ; Could ask for kingdoms, crowns and palaces. I want them not. Much simpler my re- quest : 1 ask thee, Haroun, for Abassa's free- dom. AL RASCEID. A strange demand from thee ; yet, be it granted ! OBEIDAE. It is too late ; Abassa is no more. OMAR. Dead, tyrant? OBEIDAE. Aye, the law demanded it. 107 AL BASCHID. Ask something we can grant. We can- not raise The dead from out their tomb. OMAR, Still there is time To save Giafar, who e^en now has left This hall. OBEIDAH, Thev stabbed him in the anteroom, Lest his glib tongue might reach the tender heart Of his too gen'rous master. AL BASCHID. Thou art quick, Obeidah. Be thou wise as well. Prince Omar, Ask something not exceeding human powers. OBEIDAH, I see a singular flame in Omar's eye ^Mlich doth reveal to me his inner thought ; rU aid his cause. Guards ! Hither lead the slave. (TTasfana is led into the center. She is veiled.) Great Khalif, Omar loves this soft- skinned female. 108 And, though her actions rash deserve thy anger, Thou might'st, considering the chiefs renown. Give for a pastime him this pleasing toy. OMAR. Sagacious as a fox thou art, Obeidah, And as the pelican, most generous — Thy kindly counsel's given ere 'tis sought ; But in this matter suffer me to balance Thy judgment 'gainst my own. (Addressing Hasfana.) Hear me, Hasfana, Abassa's dead; Giafar is no more; Wilt thou be Omar's slave ? Then take this hand In token that this be thy heart's first wish ; If not, raise up thine arm and thus as- sure me That thou will'st otherwise. OBEIDAH, Why thus consult her? OMAR. Because I'd have it so. (Hasfana lifts her arm and keeps it raised.) 109 Courageous maiden! I grasp thy thought and bow to thy de- cree! (To the Sultan) I now can ask the favor? AL BASCHID, Speak; 'tis granted. OMAR, Am I quite certified that this be so ? AL BASCHID. Thou hast my word; I never break a promise. OMAB, And I am sure this favor can be granted ! AL BASCHID, Then it is thine! OMAB. Hear then, oh mighty Khalif, And all ye ministers who are in council Assembled here; bear witness that I have The Sultan's word. (Pointing his finger toward the Grand Vizier.) I want Obeidah's head ! END OF FIFTH ACT. OF THE UNIVERSITY UNIVERSITY DF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW 30m-6,'14 rs 4 -7 H f 196108