-09_The Viziers of Bassora Act-2 Sc-4.htm

A room in Ajebe’s house.

AJEBE

Balkis, do come, my heart.

Enter Balkis.

BALKIS

Your will?

AJEBE

My will!
When had I any will since you came here,
You rigorous tyrant?

BALKIS

Was it for abuse
You called me ?

AJEBE

Bring your lute and sing to me.

BALKIS

I am not in the mood.

AJEBE

Sing, I entreat you.
I am hungry for your voice of pure delight.

BALKIS

I am no kabob, nor my voice a curry.
Hungry, forsooth!

Exit.

AJEBE

Oh, Balkis, Balkis! hear me.

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Enter Mymoona.

MYMOONA

It’s useless calling; she is in her moods.

And there’s your Vizier getting down from horse

In the doorway.

AJEBE

I will go and bring him up.
Mymoona, coax her for me, will you, girl ?

Exit.

MYMOONA

It is as good to meet a mangy dog
As this same uncle of ours. He seldom comes.

She conceals herself behind a curtain.

Re-enter Ajebe with Almuene.

ALMUENE

He goes tomorrow? Well. And Nureddene

The scapegrace holds his wealth in hand ? Much better.

I always said he was a fool. (To himself) Easily

I might confound him with this flagrant lapse

About the slave-girl. But wait! wait! He gone,

His memory waned, his riches squandered quite,

I’ll ruin his son, ruin the insolent Turk

He has preferred to my Fareed. His Doonya

And Anice slave-girls to my lusty boy,

His wife — but she escapes. It is enough

They come back to a desolate house. Oh! let

Their forlorn wrinkles hug an empty nest

In life’s cold leafless winter! Meanwhile I set

My seal on every room in the King’s heart;

He finds no chamber open when he comes.

AJEBE

Uncle, you ponder things of weight?

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ALMUENE

No, Ajebe;

Trifles, mere trifles. You’re a friend, I think,
Of Ibn Sawy’s son?

AJEBE

We drink together.

ALMUENE

Right, right! Would you have place, power, honours, gold,
Or is your narrow soul content with ease ?

AJEBE

Why, uncle!

ALMUENE

Do you dread death? furious disgrace?
Or beggary that’s worse than either? Do you?

AJEBE

All men desire those blessings, fear these ills.

ALMUENE

They shall be yours in overflowing measure,
Good, if you serve me, ill, if you refuse.

AJEBE

What service ?

ALMUENE

Ruin wanton Nureddene.
Gorge him with riot and excess; rob him
Under a friendly guise; force him to spend
Till he’s a beggar. Most, delude him on
To prone extremity of drunken shame
Which he shall feel, yet have no power to check.
Drench all his senses in vile profligacy,  

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Nor mere light gallantries, but gutter filth,
Though you have to share it. Do this and you’re made;

But this undone, you are yourself undone.
Eight months I give you. No, attend me not.

Exit.

AJEBE

Mymoona! girl, where are you ?

MYMOONA

Here, here, behind you.

AJEBE

A Satan out of hell has come to me.

MYMOONA

A Satan, truly, and he’ld make you one,
Damning you down into the deepest hell of all.

AJEBE

What shall I do?

MYMOONA

Not what he tells you to.

AJEBE

Yet if I do not, I am gone. No man
In Bassora could bear his heavy wrath
On the other side —

MYMOONA

Leave the other side. ‘Tis true,
The dog will keep his word in evil; for good,
Tis brittle, brittle. But you cannot do it;

Our Balkis loves his Anice so completely.

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AJEBE

Girl, girl, my life and goods are on the die.

MYMOONA

Do one thing.

AJEBE

I will do what you shall bid me.

MYMOONA

He has some vile companions, has he not?

AJEBE

Cafoor and Ayoob and the rest; a gang
Of pleasant roisterers without heart or mind.

MYMOONA

Whisper the thing to them; yourself do nothing.

Check him at times. Whatever else you do,

Take not his gifts; they are the price of shame.

If he is ruined, as without their urging

Is likely, Satan’s satisfied, if not,

We’ll flee from Bassora when there’s no help.

AJEBE

You have a brain. Yet if I must be vile,
A bolder vileness best becomes a man.

MYMOONA

And Balkis?

AJEBE

True.

MYMOONA

Be safe, be safe. The rest
Is doubtful, but one truth is sadly sure,

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That dead men cannot love.

AJEBE

I’ll think of it.
Mymoona, leave me; send your sister here.

Exit Mymoona.

The thing’s too vile! and yet — honours and place,
And to set Balkis on a kingdom’s crest
Breaking and making men with her small hands
The lute’s too large for! But the way is foul.

Enter Balkis.

BALKIS

What’s your command?

AJEBE

Bring me your lute and sing.
I’m sad and troubled. Cross me not, my girl,
My temper’s wry.

BALKIS

Oh, threats?

AJEBE

Remember still
You are a slave, however by my love
Pampered, and sometimes think upon the scourge.

BALKIS

Do, do! yes, beat me! Or why beat me only?
Kill me, as you have killed my heart already
With your harsh words. I knew, I knew what all
Your love would end in. Oh! oh! oh! (Weeps).

AJEBE

Forgive me,
O sweetest heart. I swear I did not mean it.

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BALKIS

Because in play I sometimes speak a little —
O scourge me, kill me!

AJEBE

 ’Twas a jest, a jest!
Tear not my heart with sobs. Look, Balkis, love,
You shall have necklaces worth many thousands,
Pearls, rubies, if you only will not weep.

BALKIS

I am a slave and only fit for scourging,

Not pearls and rubies. Mymoona! Oh, Mymoona!

Bring him a scourge and me a cup of poison.

Exit.

AJEBE

She plays upon me as upon her lute,

I’m as inert, as helpless, as completely

Ruled by her moods, as dumbly pleasureless

By her light hands untouched. How to appease her?

Mymoona! oh, Mymoona!

Exit.

Curtain

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