SCENE II. _The Suk (Bazaar Street) of the Tailors.

_A narrow street, arched over, with shops on both sides. Arches left and right. A large centre arch at the back leads off to other parts of the bazaar._

(NOTE.—_Much of the following action and dialogue occurs simultaneously, so as to produce a harmonious picture rather than separate impressions._)

_In a shop left sits ZAYD, a thin, conceited man of forty; he has with him a tiny little apprentice, who is here, there and everywhere. In the shop right (AMRU’S shop), a somewhat older apprentice is unpacking bales of stuff._

_It is early morning. The life of the street is awakening to the business of the day. As the curtain rises the shopkeepers are spreading out their wares. A SWEETMEAT-SELLER enters through the centre arch. He bows to a shopkeeper and passes on, squatting in the right corner, his back to the audience. His cry is_, “Ho! Ho! Swee-ts.” _FRUIT-GIRLS enter from the right and settle down in the left corner opposite him. Their cry is_ “Omani peaches, Osmani quinces! Sultani citrons! Li-mes!”

_TWO BEDOUINS appear and walk solemnly down the street. A CHINAMAN enters, followed by a little boy carrying fowls. The CHINAMAN goes to the SWEETMEAT-SELLER and points to the sweets with his fan._

CHINAMAN. (In a squeaky voice.) _This! This! This! How much?_

SWEETSELLER. _Three daniks._

CHINAMAN. _One! One! One!_

SWEETSELLER. _Two._

CHINAMAN. (Turning away to the left.) _One!_

SWEETSELLER. (Rises and goes after him.) _One and a half._

(_The CHINAMAN refuses to listen to him._)

SWEETSELLER. (Sitting down again.) _Hell swallow all foreign dogs!_

(_JAWAN enters at the central arch supported by his TWO SLAVES and passes down the street._)

(_The CHINAMAN goes to ZAYD’S shop._)

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. _Allah enlarge thee, O traveller from the land of China._

CHINAMAN. _Silk! Silk! Silk!_

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. _Here’s Persian silk, O my master! Rich, soft silk._

CHINAMAN. (Pulling it about). _No! China silk! China silk! This bad! Bad!_ (He walks away.)

ZAYD’S APPRENTICE. (Shouts after him). _Out on thee, thou cat-faced infidel!_

(_A BOY with flowers comes and squats down near the fruit-girls. His cry is_:

“Jasmine and violets fine, Pomegranate bloom and eglantine.”)

(_AN OLD MAN with a donkey appears laden with jars of olive oil, stops at ZAYD’S shop and turns to the apprentice._)

THE OLD MAN (to the apprentice). _Here’s olive oil for thy master._

BOY. _Is the jar full?_

THE OLD MAN. _Full as the number of my years._

BOY. _Allah make them a thousand in number._

(_THE CAPTAIN OF THE GUARD struts majestically through the Suk. NASIR, the guide, enters, goes to ZAYD’S shop and bargains for a sash; tries it on, rolling himself into it and out of it as ZAYD holds one end of it._)

(_TWO COURTESANS appear in flimsy veils and gorgeous draperies. A YOUTH approaches them with a flower he has bought from the flower-boy._)

THE FIRST COURTESAN (to the Youth). _Fair befall thee, O Youth! Art thou from Baghdad? Art thou a stranger?_

THE YOUTH. _I am yours from wherever I am; a captive to the moon of your faces._

THE OTHER COURTESAN. _Thy glance is bright as the blade of a sword._

THE YOUTH. _And thy tongue sharper, no doubt!_

THE PORTER (with an immense bale on his head, to one of the Courtesans). _Must thou trip my heels, thou stinking armful?_

THE COURTESAN. _Out of my way, thou son of a burnt father._

AN OLD MAN (to a Young One). _Come out of this babel; I am sick from eating too much of the world._

THE YOUNG MAN. _Nay, I have only begun the feast—I am an-hungered. Look at this shop, O my father!_

A MERCHANT. _What wilt thou buy, O my brother? Silks? Kerchiefs? Girdles? Here’s all the earth gives birth to._

AN EGYPTIAN (with a little girl, to a boy selling beads.) _What manner of beads are these, O my son?_

THE BEAD-BOY. _Beads from Damascus! Beads of polished steel! Glass beads from Rhodes! Beads clear as crystal from the land of China, whiter than sea-pearls!_

THE EGYPTIAN (to his little girl.) _What shall I buy thee, O my Pigeon? These beads? Or those? Speak, O my Lotus!_

A MAN (to one of the fruit-sellers.) _Is thy fruit sweet, O my sister?_ (He takes up some fruit.)

THE FRUIT-SELLER. _Pay first and taste after._

A MAN. _Thy fruit is over-ripe._

THE FRUIT-SELLER. _’Tis fresh as the dawn-breeze._

THE MAN. _O my little tulip, how should I believe thee? Dost thou not belong to the universal sisterhood of woman?_

THE FRUIT-SELLER. _All women are not alike; nor are the fingers of the hand alike._

THE SWEETMEAT-SELLER (crying.) _Swee-ts! Swee-ts! No better sweets in Baghdad. No better sweets in Baghdad. They are made by my cousin. He’s pastry-cook at the palace._

A BUYER. _Allah increase thee for a smooth-tongued liar!_

THE SWEETSELLER. _Taste my wares and ask my pardon!_

(_And so it goes. Cries and movement everywhere. The shopkeeper’s call to the passer-by is, “What dost thou want? Dost thou lack kerchiefs, shawls?” Greetings are heard such as, “I salute thee with my salaam! Allah increase thee, O my brother! A blessed day! Allah gladden thee with good news! The Bestower increase thee ever!” Porters plough their way through the crowd calling out, “Have patience, o ye people, have patience.” Compliments are heard such as, “Thou art like the moon on a fourteenth night! Thy body sways like a thirsting gazelle! Gifted by the Giver art thou! Thy beauty would make a palace dance!” And words of anger and impatience such as, “Begone and none of thine impudence! Be off! By Allah, this is not allowed! May Allah never bless thee! No friendly welcome to thee! Fie upon thee, ill-omened fellow!” The hubbub reaches its climax as a WATER-CARRIER enters, shouting loudly_, “Water! Water, coo-l and clea-r!” _He is stopped by two negro slaves, who buy cups of water from him. Then the WATER-CARRIER turns, as AMRU, a stout imposing merchant with a huge beard, comes down the street and approaches him. AMRU takes a cup. As he does so, ZAYD looks up from his shop in surprise and hurries out of it._)

ZAYD. (_Surprised._) By mine eyes, Amru!

AMRU. (_Delighted._) By mine eyes, Zayd!

(_They embrace, one arm being thrown round the shoulder, the other round the side, placing the chin first upon the left then upon the right collar bone and repeating this several times. As they embrace the crowd gradually disperses, leaving the street comparatively empty. But there is always a sense of life in the suk, and the hum of the bazaar is heard dimly throughout the scene._)

ZAYD. Welcome and well come and good cheer to my friend, the dearly-beloved. So thou art home from Egypt? (_He motions him over to his shop._)

AMRU. Yesternight in the first watch I caused my camels to kneel at my door.

ZAYD. By Allah and his Apostle, it swells my heart to hear thy voice once more! Thou hast tarried many moons. Has thy business prospered?

(_The little apprentice has spread out cushions: they both sit._)

AMRU. Fortune hath blessed me indeed. And thou? How is’t with thee?

ZAYD. Alas! Traffic has grown dull with the new Caliph.

AMRU. So soon? He hath been in power but seven days they tell me.

ZAYD. He is very young—scarce sixteen,—and so devout! He was schooled in a monastery in the mountains. ’Tis said his harim is empty. Not a woman,—not as much as a wife.

AMRU. Not so much as—and seven days! By the glories of Paradise to come! An I were Caliph for seven days!

ZAYD. An I were Caliph for seven hours! But they say that he is waiting to find the woman of his dream, a maid of beauty all in all. Be she of noblest blood or poorest of the poor, he hath taken oath, until Allah reveal the chosen one, he will live alone,—unwed,—unwived.

(_Kettledrums are heard in the distance to the left.)_

(_AMRU returns to his shop at the right._)

(_The crowd hurries in from all sides. Men and women all kneel, bending low. As the CALIPH enters they touch their foreheads to the ground._)

(_Through the centre arch comes the Caliph’s procession, turning down and disappearing through the arch right. First come SIX ARCHERS OF THE GUARD with lances. Next follow FOUR MEN with KETTLEDRUMS (like tom-toms) and a pair of TRUMPETERS: then SIX ARCHERS with scymitars drawn, walking two and two. After that, DIGNITARIES of the royal household. Some singly, others in twos. These are: the Caliph’s slipper-bearer; his cloak-bearer; his cup-bearer; his ewer and basin-bearer; his bow-bearer; and his carpet-spreader. Next the two head EUNUCHS of his harim, both tall blackamoors clothed in yellow._)

(_After this, at an interval of five paces, on a white mule, the CALIPH himself, robed in the black of the Abbaside dynasty. His face is very youthful, full of spiritual beauty and weary pride. On his left cheek he has a mole. By his left side walks ABU BAKR, an old, white-bearded man, clothed in green and white, with a very large turband, holding his master’s left stirrup._)

(_As the CALIPH reaches the centre of the street, an old woman, KABIRAH, throws herself at his feet; the procession halts._)

KABIRAH. O King of the age—justice! Justice to an ancient widow and a sore oppressed! (_She holds out a petition._)

CALIPH. (_Waving to ABU BAKR who takes the petition._) Come thou to my Diwan this mid-afternoon. None shall suffer wrong under this my sovereignty. The Judge of Judges be my witness. The Peace!

(_KABIRAH withdraws muttering “Heaven increase thee ever, O King.”_)

(_The procession moves on; the people in the street remaining crouched and motionless as the CALIPH passes them._)

(_A COURT DIGNITARY follows, scattering coin._)

(_SIX ARCHERS, with scymitars drawn, conclude the procession._)

(_Directly the CALIPH’S guard is out of sight there is a wild scramble for the royal largesse. The rabble then follows the procession._)

ZAYD. (_To AMRU, shouting across to his shop._) Didst note the mole on his cheek? Is he not beautiful?

AMRU. Allah bless him! And the old man?

ZAYD. Abu Bakr, his tutor—a far famed grammarian. He entered the city with countless camel-loads of dictionaries. ’Tis he who ruleth the ruler.

AMRU. Where’s Mansur—the old Caliph’s favourite? He was wont to ride by his master’s side. Hath he fallen from power?

ZAYD. Nay, he’s still Chief of the Guards of the City and Wazir of the Police. But at the Palace they begin to whisper—(_Seeing MANSUR; in a low voice._) The Peace!—Mansur!

(_MANSUR appears, a tall, slim, sinister figure of about eight and twenty. His face shows traces of beauty ruined by debauchery; his manner is that of an expert in the sensualism of cruelty; his robes are of deep blue and steel. He is evidently nursing his rage, and strides along ominously. Behind him comes KAFUR, his sworder, a snake-like Ethiopian, by whose side hobbles a small hunchback scribe, AFIFE, who looks more like a pelican than a man._)

(_As MANSUR enters, a BLIND MAN crosses his path._)

THE BLIND MAN. Blind! Blind! Buy a blessing from the blind!

(_MANSUR annoyed at the BLIND MAN’S fumbling, strikes him down and passes on. The BLIND MAN gets up again, helped by two of the courtesans. ZAYD gives him a coin or two, and he goes on his way._)

ZAYD. (_To AMRU._) Didst mark his rage? He, the favourite of yesterday, to-day must walk second to the grammarian. The splitter of lives bow to the splitter of syllables. Ha! Ha!

(_HAJJ appears in the centre archway. He is still in rags. He comes down to ZAYD._)

ZAYD. (_Putting him off as he would a beggar._) Heaven will provide, O brother.

(_HAJJ crosses to AMRU._)

AMRU. (_In the same tone as ZAYD._) Allah will provide.

HAJJ. Nay, I am no beggar.

ZAYD and AMRU. What art thou then?

HAJJ. I am a religious mendicant. My vow of poverty has been accomplished in the hour. I am on my way to the hammam to re-enter daily life.

ZAYD. O father of rags, thou art strangely like to a beggar before the Carpenter’s Mosque.

HAJJ. So I have been told. The sooner therefore I strip me of his likeness, the better for both of us. What hast thou in the manner of cloaks and shirts and turband-cloths? (_He clinks the purse ominously._)

(_ZAYD and AMRU hurry forward, each bringing a cushion for HAJJ to sit on. They spread a big square of stuff before him on which they display their goods._)

(_HAJJ sits down with great satisfaction._)

ZAYD. All colours, O my master.

AMRU. All kinds, O my master.

HAJJ. (_With a delighted smile, pleased at the epithet._) Master! (_He chinks his purse._)

ZAYD. Why dost thou smile?

HAJJ. ’Tis nought! A memory! Show me thy wares.

AMRU. Thou’lt see mine too, O my lord?

HAJJ. (_Turning to AMRU, as above._) Lord!—Thine too,—O my—my tailor. (_Pointing to some veils in AMRU’S hands._) What’s this?

ZAYD. (_Spreading out a cloak eagerly._) Thy cloak, O my master.

HAJJ. (_To ZAYD, putting him off._) A moment. (_To AMRU._) Face veils?

AMRU. (_Spreading out a veil._) After the fashion of Egypt. Woven air!

HAJJ. (_Taking up the veil._) A veil! Hast thou anklets?

AMRU. Here are jewels none hath set eyes on in Baghdad. (_He opens a little casket._)

ZAYD. (_Jealously, calling across._) O my lord,—thy cloak.

AMRU. (_To ZAYD, annoyed._) Trouble not my master.

HAJJ. (_Taking up the anklets and veil._) How much?

AMRU. Seven dinars.

HAJJ. Thou art mad! (_He turns to ZAYD._) Thy cloak!

AMRU. (_Eagerly._) How much wilt thou offer?

HAJJ. (_Ignoring AMRU._) Allah, this is workmanship!

AMRU. (_As above._) Six dinars and a half.

HAJJ. (_To ZAYD._) Who’s the designer of this?

ZAYD. ’Tis I.

AMRU. (_Quickly to HAJJ, waving the scarf and anklets._) Six.

HAJJ. (_Turning to AMRU._) Three! And ’tis more than paid.

AMRU. The anklets alone cost me four.

ZAYD. (_To HAJJ._) Thou’lt have the cloak?

HAJJ. How much?

ZAYD. Twenty-five dinars.

HAJJ. Twenty-five! (_He turns abruptly to AMRU._) Three dinars.

ZAYD. Twenty-four and a half!

AMRU. Four dinars and I lose. By the life of my father, I swear it.

HAJJ. Four an thou wrappest them up in one of thy kerchiefs.

AMRU. ’Tis beyond my yielding. (_He takes his veils away._)

HAJJ. (_Turning to ZAYD._) Hast thou veils? (_AMRU eyes HAJJ eagerly._)

ZAYD. The best in Baghdad. Thou’lt have the cloak?

HAJJ. I’ll see others first. Put it there. (_He points to the kerchief spread out before him._) Thy veils!

AMRU. Hold! Thou shalt have thy veil and kerchief. But I swear——

HAJJ. (_Turning to AMRU._) Swear not! (_Counts out the money._) Four! Thou hast begun the day too well. What shirt is this? (_He takes it up._) And yon trousers and girdle? (_Pointing to some trousers and a girdle ZAYD’S apprentice is holding up._)

(_The GUIDE NASIR enters at the back, sees HAJJ and watches him unobserved, with cat-like glances, leaning against ZAYD’S shop. ZAYD hands HAJJ the trousers and girdle._)

AMRU. (_Shouting._) First see this girdle of mine.

HAJJ. Now which of ye twain hath a turband-cloth to my heart?

ZAYD. (_Unrolling one._) O master, ’tis I.

AMRU. (_Unrolling another._) O master, ’tis me.

ZAYD. I!

AMRU. Me!

HAJJ. The master asked both. (_Pointing to AMRU’S cloth, squinting at ZAYD out of the corner of his eye._) His cloth far excelleth thine.

ZAYD. (_Furious._) His cloth excel mine? Yon meagre tracery crawling along the edge as a dying dog to a puddle,—that excel my glorious branching and bowing of pomegranates?

AMRU. Dying dog, indeed! Dying dog thyself.

ZAYD. By Allah, hold thy peace, O brother.

HAJJ. (_To ZAYD inciting him._) How? Let him call thee dog?

ZAYD. (_Springing up._) Called he me dog? Didst thou call me dog, O dog?

AMRU. (_Conciliating him, still on his knees._) Enough, O Zayd. Words poison.

HAJJ. (_To AMRU, in a whisper._) What? Kneel to a slave, dost thou?

AMRU. Yehh! Thou art right. (_Rising and facing ZAYD._) Yes, I—I call thee dog.

ZAYD. Thou shall eat thy words. (_He crosses to AMRU._)

AMRU. And thou thy pomegranates. (_They fall to blows._)

(_HAJJ quickly gathers the clothes he picked out, wraps the large cloth about them and hurries off by the arch, left. NASIR has watched HAJJ and follows him off. THE MERCHANTS AND APPRENTICES hurry out of the shops._)

VARIOUS MEN. Ho, Masters! Ho, masters! Help! They’re fighting! They’ll have their swords out. Ho, Moslems! Ho Captain! Help!

(_Several of the shopmen and passers-by crowd round, chattering and screaming, trying to separate the two men. Different ones shout: “O AMRU! O Brothers! Where’s the Syndic? O ZAYD! For the love of Allah! Are ye not sons of Islam both?” etc._)

(_The CAPTAIN OF THE WATCH hurries in by the centre arch. The two men are separated by him._)

CAPTAIN. O Zayd! O Amru! Shame upon ye! How now? Are ye donkey-boys?

AMRU. O Captain! Heaven knoweth we were ever the best of friends.

ZAYD. Ever till this hour.

CAPTAIN. Who began it?

ZAYD. ’Twas my lord here who said—(_He points to HAJJ’S empty cushion; stops and stares amazed._) Where is my lord? (_He looks about bewildered._) Yehh! Gone! Gone and the clothes with him.

AMRU. O, the bazaar devil! ’Twas _he_ that set us on.

ZAYD. After him. Which way went he?

A MAN. This way. (_He points to the arch left._)

(_The crowd, headed by ZAYD, starts to run off to the left._)

ANOTHER MAN. (_Pointing up to the centre arch._) This way!

(_The crowd veers and starts off to the back._)

STILL ANOTHER MAN. (_Pointing to the right._) This way! (_They all swing to the right._)

(_NASIR re-enters from the left arch eagerly._)

NASIR. (_At the top of his voice._) No, that way. I know the dog well. ’Tis Hajj—the beggar!

(_General hubbub as ALL run off to the left, shouting and gesticulating._)

THE SWEETMEAT-SELLER. (_Rising and putting his tray of sweets on his head goes slowly down the street, shouting._) Ho! Ho! Swee—ts!

[CURTAIN]