Hassan: The Story of Hassan of Baghdad and How He Came to Make the Golden Journey to Samarkand Part 23

2nd GUARD (In deep, lugubrious and respectful tones) Oh, sir, he is bitterly disappointed.

ISHAK Well, it is your fault, my fine fellows, if you leave daggers and ropes lying about in your prisoners' cells.

Ist GUARD Ah, you do not know the artfulness of prisoners, my masters.

They will bang their heads against the wall, or they will eat their straw.

(To 2nd GUARD) Do they not eat their straw, Mohamed?

2nd GUARD (To ISHAK) Oh sir, they frequently eat their straw.

ISHAK Chain them, chain them.

Ist GUARD We do, my masters, but even then they strangle themselves in their fetters.

ISHAK Strangle themselves in their fetters?

Ist GUARD Do they not strangle themselves in their fetters, Mohamed.

2nd GUARD (To ISHAK) I have known them, sir, to strangle themselves in their fetters.

ISHAK But, as you know, these two have a choice between a life with separation and a death with torment. Now surely they will choose life, and will hardly need a sentry to spear them away from the doorstep of eternity.

Ist GUARD I should think so indeed, sir. But you never can tell with prisoners.

Prisoners are very obstinate, especially women, are they not Mohamed?

2nd GUARD (To ISHAK) Female prisoners are very obstinate, sir.

ISHAK (With a.s.sumed heartiness) Well, none of us would require till sunset to make our choice, would we?

Ist GUARD No, sir, not those of us who have ever seen Masrur at work.

ISHAK But if they do choose their day of love, will they still not be free according to the Caliph's promise? Will you still guard them in their cell, O sons of impropriety, lest they eat their straw?

Ist GUARD (With a leer) Nay, we shall stand outside the door and listen at the grill.

ISHAK And that is precisely what we intend to do now if you will show us the door.

Ist GUARD I don't know whether I could quite do that, sir.

ISHAK (Giving him money) You are valiant fellows and, I am convinced, considerably underpaid.

Ist GUARD Ours is a most disagreeable profession. your Excellency.

2nd GUARD (Accepting money) And the emoluments are infinitesimal.

Ist GUARD This way, gentlemen.

(Shews them to the door.)

SCENE II

A cell. A grating through which streams the sunlight. A heavy door with a narrow spyhole. RAFI is fettered to the wall, but PERVANEH has not been bound. TWO GUARDS stand immobile on either side of the door,

RAFI They have changed our guard for the last time, it will be sunset in an hour.

PERVANEH Still a long hour before your hands are freed to make me a belt of love.

O idle sun, I am weary of thy pattern on the wall. Still a long hour!

RAFI And still a night and a day before our doom.

PERVANEH Why is your voice so sorrowful? Your words do not keep step with your decision nor march like standard-bearers of your great resolve.

PERVANEH What have I decided? What have I resolved? You came near.

I saw the wings of your spirit beating the air around you.

You locked the silver fetters around my neck and I forgot these manacles of iron: you perfumed me with your hair till this cell became a meadow: you turned toward me eyes in whose night the seven deep oceans flashed their drowned stars, and all your body asked without speech, "Wilt thou die for love?"

PERVANEH Do you repent? Do you unsay the golden words?

RAFI Put but your lips on mine and seal my words against unsaying.

PERVANEH I did wrong to make you pa.s.sionate. I see that in your heart you do repent.

I would not have you bound by a moment's madness but wish with all your reason and with all your soul.

RAFI Ah, stand apart and veil your face, you who call in the name of reason!

You are all afire for martyrdom: can you hear reason calling from her snows?

Oh, you woman, Allah curse you for blinding my eyes with love!

PERVANEH Ah, Rafi!

RAFI Be silent--be silent! Your voice is the voice of a garden at daybreak, when all the birds are singing at the sun. Forget your whirling dreams, your fires, your lightnings, your splendours of the soul, and answer the pa.s.sionless voice that asks you--why should your lover die, and such a death?

PERVANEH I am listening.

RAFI I am very young. Shall I forget to laugh if I continue to live?

Shall I spend all my hours regretting you? Shall I not return to my country and comfort the hearts of those that gave me birth?

Have I not my white-walled house, my books, my old friends, my garden of flowers and trees? Has the stream forgotten to sing at the end of my garden because Pervaneh comes no more?

"Love fades," saith Reason, with a gentler voice.

"Love fades but doth not fall. Love fadeth not to yellow like the rose but to gold like the leaves upon the poplar by the stream." And when my poplars are all gold, I shall sit beneath their shade beside the stream to read my book.

When I am tired of my book I will lie on my back and watch the clouds.

There in the clouds I shall see your face, and remember you with a wistful remembrance as if you had always been a dream and the silver torment of your arms had never been more than the white mists circling the round mountain snows.

PERVANEH (With growing anger) And so, wrapped in pleasant fancies, you will forget the woman you have sold to a tyrant. And so, while I, far from my country and my home, am dying of shame and confinement, you will dream and you will dream!