Eng | Рус

If

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

JOHN BEAL

MARY BEAL

LIZA

ALI

BERT, BILL: two railway porters

THE MAN IN THE CORNER

MIRALDA CLEMENT

HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN

DAOUD

ARCHIE BEAL

BAZZALOL, THOOTHOOBABA: two Nubian door-keepers

BEN HUSSEIN, Lord of the Pass

ZABNOOL, SHABEESH: two conjurers

OMAR, a singer

ZAGBOOLA, mother of Hafiz

THE SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS

Notables, soldiers, Bishareens, dancers, etc.

ACT I

SCENE I

A small railway station near London.

Time: Ten years ago.

BERT
'Ow goes it, Bill?
BILL
Goes it? 'Ow d'yer think it goes?
BERT
I don't know, Bill. 'Ow is it?
BILL
Bloody.
BERT
Why? What's wrong?
BILL
Wrong? Nothing ain't wrong.
BERT
What's up then?
BILL
Nothing ain't right.
BERT
Why, wot's the worry?
BILL
Wot's the worry? They don't give youbetter wages nor a dog, and then they thinksthey can talk at yer and talk at yer, and saywot they likes, like.
BERT
Why? You been on the carpet, Bill?
BILL
Ain't I! Proper.
BERT
Why, wot about, Bill?
BILL
Wot about? I'll tell yer. Just coz I leta lidy get into a train. That's wot about.Said I ought to 'av stopped 'er. Thought thetrain was moving. Thought it was dangerous.Thought I tried to murder 'er, I suppose.
BERT
Wot? The other day?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Tuesday?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Why. The one that dropped her bag?
BILL
Yes. Drops 'er bag. Writes to the com-pany. They writes back she shouldn't 'avgot in. She writes back she should. Thenthey gets on to me. Any more of it andI'll...
BERT
I wouldn't, Bill; don't you.
BILL
I will.
BERT
Don't you, Bill. You've got your familyto consider.
BILL
Well, anyway, I won't let any more ofthem passengers go jumping into trains anymore, not when they're moving, I won't.When the train gets in, doors shut. That'sthe rule. And they'll 'ave to abide by it.
BERT
Well, I wouldn't stop one, not if...
BILL
I don't care. They ain't going to 'ave meon the mat again and talk all that stuff tome. No, if someone 'as to suffer . . .'Ere she is.
[Noise of approaching train heard.]
BERT
Ay, that's her.
BILL
And shut goes the door.
[Enter JOHN BEAL.]
BERT
Wait a moment, Bill.
BILL
Not if he's . . . Not if he was ever so.
JOHN
[preparing to pass]
Good morning. . . .
BILL
Can't come through. Too late.
JOHN
Too late? Why, the train's only just in.
BILL
Don't care. It's the rule.
JOHN
0, nonsense.
[He carries on.]
BILL
It's too late. I tell you you can't come.
JOHN
But that's absurd. I want to catch mytrain.
BILL
It's too late.
BERT
Let him go, Bill.
BILL
I'm blowed if I let him go.
JOHN
I want to catch my train.
[JOHN is stopped by BILL and pushedback by the face. JOHN advances towardsBILL looking like fighting. The train hasgone.]
BILL
Only doing my duty.
[JOHN stops and reflects at this, decidingit isn't good enough. He shrugs hisshoulders, turns round and goes away.]
JOHN
I shouldn't be surprised if I didn't get evenwith you one of these days, you . . . . . andsome way you won't expect.

Curtain

SCENE 2

Yesterday evening.[Curtain rises on JOHN and MARY intheir suburban home.]

JOHN
I say, dear. Don't you think we ought toplant an acacia?
MARY
An acacia, what's that, John?
JOHN
O, it's one of those trees that they have.
MARY
But why, John?
JOHN
Well, you see the house is called The Aca-cias, and it seems rather silly not to have atleast one.
MARY
O, I don't think that matters. Lots ofplaces are called lots of things. Everyonedoes.
JOHN
Yes, but it might help the postman.
MARY
O, no, it wouldn't, dear. He wouldn'tknow an acacia if he saw it any more than Ishould.
JOHN
Quite right, Mary, you're always right.What a clever head you've got!
MARY
Have I, John? We'll plant an acacia ifyou like. 1'11 ask about it at the grocer's.
JOHN
You can't get one there.
MARY
No, but he's sure to know where it can begot.
JOHN
Where do they grow, Mary?
MARY
I don't know, John; but I am sure they do,somewhere.
JOHN
Somehow I wish sometimes, I almost wishI could have gone abroad for a week or so toplaces like where acacias grow naturally.
MARY
0, would you really, John?
JOHN
No, not really. But I just think of itsometimes.
MARY
Where would you have gone?
JOHN
0, I don't know. The East or some suchplace. I've often heard people speak of it,and somehow it seemed so. . .
MARY
The East, John? Not the East. I don'tthink the East somehow is quite respectable.
JOHN
O well, it's all right, I never went, andnever shall go now. It doesn't matter.
MARY
[the photographs catching her eye]
O, John, I meant to tell you. Such a dread-ful thing happened.
JOHN
What, Mary?
MARY
Well, Liza was dusting the photographs,and when she came to Jane's she says shehadn't really begun to dust it, only looked atit, and it fell down, and that bit of glass isbroken right out of it.
JOHN
Ask her not to look at it so hard anothertime.
MARY
0, what do you mean, John?
JOHN
Well, that's how she broke it; she said so,and as I know you believe in Liza . . .
MARY
Well, I can't think she'd tell a lie, John.
JOHN
No, of course not. But she mustn't lookso hard another time.
MARY
And it's poor little Jane's photograph.She will feel it so.
JOHN
0, that's all right, we'll get it mended.
MARY
Still, it's a dreadful thing to have happened.
JOHN
We'll get it mended, and if Jane is unhappyabout it she can have Alice's frame. Aliceis too young to notice it.
MARY
She isn't, John. She'd notice it quick.
Well, George, then.
JOHN

MARY
[looking at photo thoughtfully]
Well, perhaps George might give up hisframe.
JOHN
Yes, tell Liza to change it. Why not makeher do it now?
MARY
Not to-day, John. Not on a Sunday.She shall do it to-morrow by the time you getback from the office.
JOHN
All right. It might have been worse.
MARY
It's bad enough. I wish it hadn't happened.
JOHN
It might have been worse. It might havebeen Aunt Martha.
MARY
I'd sooner it had been her than poor littleJane.
JOHN
If it had been Aunt Martha's photographshe'd have walked in next day and seen it forcertain; I know Aunt Martha. Then there'dhave been trouble.
MARY
But, John, how could she have known?
JOHN
I don't know, but she would have; it's akind of devilish sense she has.
MARY
John!
JOHN
What's the matter?
MARY
John! What a dreadful word you used.And on a Sunday too! Really!
JOHN
0, I'm sorry. It slipped out somehow.I'm very sorry.
[Enter LIZA.]
LIZA
There's a gentleman to see you, sir, whichisn't, properly speaking, a gentleman at all.Not what I should call one, that is, like.
MARY
Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza!Whatever do you mean?
LIZA
He's black.
MARY
Black?
JOHN
[reassuring]
O . . . yes, that would be Ali. A queerold customer, Mary; perfectly harmless. Ourfirm gets hundreds of carpets through him;and then one day . . .
MARY
But what is he doing here, John?
JOHN
Well, one day he turned up in London;broke, he said; and wanted the firm to givehim a little cash. Well, old Briggs was forgiving him ten shillings. But I said "here'sa man that's helped us in making thousandsof pounds. Let's give him fifty."
MARY
Fifty pounds!
JOHN
Yes, it seems a lot; but it seemed only fair.Ten shillings would have been an insult tothe old fellow, and he'd have taken it as such.You don't know what he'd have done.
MARY
Well, he doesn't want more?
TOHN
No, I expect he's come to thank me. Heseemed pretty keen on getting some cash.Badly broke, you see. Don't know what he wasdoing in London. Never can tell with thesefellows. East is East, and there's an end of it.
MARY
How did he trace you here?
JOHN
0, got the address at the office. Briggsand Cater won't let theirs be known. Notgot such a smart little house, I expect.
MARY
I don't like letting people in that you don'tknow where they come from.
JOHN
0, he comes from the East.
MARY
Yes, I--I know. But the East doesn't seemquite to count, somehow, as the proper sort ofplace to come from, does it, dear?
JOHN
No.
MARY
It's not like Sydenham or Bromley, someplace you can put your finger on.
JOHN
Perhaps just for once, I don't think there'sany harm in him.
MARY
Well, just for once. But we can't make apractice of it. And you don't want to bethinking of business on a Sunday, your onlyday off.
JOHN
0, it isn't business, you know. He onlywants to say thank you.
MARY
I hope he won't say it in some queerEastern way. You don't know what thesepeople. . .
JOHN
0, no. Show him up, Liza.
LIZA
As you like, mum.
[Exit.]
MARY
And you gave him fifty pounds?
JOHN
Well, old Briggs agreed to it. So I supposethat's what he got. Cater paid him.
MARY
It seems a lot of money. But I think, asthe man is actually coming up the stairs,I'm glad he's got something to be gratefulfor.
[Enter ALI, shown in by LIZA.]
ALI
Protector of the Just.
JOHN
0, er--yes. Good evening.
ALI
My soul was parched and you bathed itin rivers of gold.
JOHN
O, ah, yes.
ALI
Wherefore the name Briggs, Cater, and Bealshall be magnified and called blessed.
JOHN
Ha, yes. Very good of you.
ALI
[advancing, handing trinket]
Protector of the Just, my offering.
JOHN
Your offering?
ALI
Hush. It is beyond price. I am notbidden to sell it. I was in my extremity, butI was not bidden to sell it. It is a token ofgratitude, a gift, as it came to me.
JOHN
AS it came to you?
ALI
Yes, it was given me.
JOHN
I see. Then you had given somebody whatyou call rivers of gold?
ALI
Not gold; it was in Sahara.
JOHN
0, and what do you give in the Saharainstead of gold?
ALI
Water.
JOHN
I see. You got it for a glass of water, like.
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
And--and what happened?
MARY
I wouldn't take his only crystal, dear.It's a nice little thing, but [to ALI], but youthink a lot of it, don't you?
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
But look here, what does it do?
ALI
Much.
JOHN
Well, what?
ALI
He that taketh this crystal, so, in his hand,at night, and wishes, saying "At a certainhour let it be"; the hour comes and he willgo back eight, ten, even twelve years if hewill, into the past, and do a thing again, oract otherwise than he did. The day passes;the ten years are accomplished once again; heis here once more; but he is what he mighthave become had he done that one thingotherwise.
MARY
John!
JOHN
I--I don't understand.
ALI
To-night you wish. All to-morrow youlive the last ten years; a new way, master, anew way, how you please. To-morrow nightyou are here, what those years have made you.
JOHN
By Jove!
MARY
Have nothing to do with it, John.
JOHN
All right, Mary, I'm not going to. But,do you mean one could go back ten years?
ALI
Even so.
JOHN
Well, it seems odd, but I'll take your wordfor it. But look here, you can't live ten yearsin a day, you know.
ALI
My master has power over time.
MARY
John, don't have anything to do with him.
JOHN
All right, Mary. But who is your master?
ALI
He is carved of one piece of jade, a god inthe greenest mountains. The years are hisdreams. This crystal is his treasure. Guardit safely, for his power is in this more thanin all the peaks of his native hills. See whatI give you, master.
JOHN
Well, really, it's very good of you.
MARY
Good night, Mr. Ali. We are very muchobliged for your kind offer, which we are sosorry we can't avail ourselves of.
JOHN
One moment, Mary. Do you mean thatI can go back ten years, and live till--till nowagain, and only be away a day?
ALI
Start early and you will be here beforemidnight.
JOHN
Would eight o'clock do!
ALI
You could be back by eleven that evening.
JOHN
I don't quite see how ten years could goin a single day.
ALI
They will go as dreams go.
JOHN
Even so, it seems rather unusual, doesn'tit?
ALI
Time is the slave of my master
MARY
John!
JOHN
All right, Mary.
[In a lower voice.]
I'm only trying to see what he'll say.
MARY
All right, John, only . . .
ALI
Is there no step that you would wish un-trodden, nor stride that you would makewhere once you faltered?
JOHN
I say, why don't you use it yourself?
ALI
I? I am afraid of the past. But youEngleesh, and the great firm of Briggs, Cater,and Beal; you are afraid of nothing.
JOHN
Ha, ha. Well--I wouldn't go quite as faras that, but--well, give me the crystal.
MARY
Don't take it, John! Don't take it.
JOHN
Why, Mary? It won't hurt me.
MARY
If it can do all that--if it can do all that . . .
JOHN
Well?
MARY
Why, you might never have met me.
JOHN
Never have met you? I never thought ofthat.
MARY
Leave the past alone, John.
JOHN
All right, Mary. I needn't use it. But Iwant to hear about it, it's so odd, it's sowhat-you-might-call queer; I don't think Iever-----
[To ALI.]
You mean if I workhard for ten years, which will only be allto-morrow, I may be Governor of the Bankof England to-morrow night.
ALI
Even so.
MARY
0, don't do it, John.
JOHN
But you said--I'll be back here beforemidnight to-morrow.
ALI
It is so.
JOHN
But the Governor of the Bank of Englandwould live in the City, and he'd have a muchbigger house anyway. He wouldn't live inLewisham.
ALI
The crystal will bring you to this housewhen the hour is accomplished, even to-morrow night. If you be the great bankeryou will perhaps come to chastise one of yourslaves who will dwell in this house. If yoube head of Briggs and Cater you will come togive an edict to one of your firm. Perchancethis street will be yours and you will come toshow your power unto it. But you will come.
JOHN
And if the house is not mine?
MARY
John! John! Don't.
ALI
Still you will come.
JOHN
Shall I remember?
ALI
No.
JOHN
If I want to do anything different to whatI did, how shall I remember when I get backthere?
MARY
Don't. Don't do anything different, John.
JOHN
All right.
ALI
Choose just before the hour of the stepyou desire to change. Memory lingers a littleat first, and fades away slowly.
JOHN
Five minutes?
ALI
Even ten.
JOHN
Then I can change one thing. After that Iforget.
ALI
Even so. One thing. And the rest follows.
JOHN
Well, it's very good of you to make me thisnice present, I'm sure.
ALI
Sell it not. Give it, as I gave it, if the heartimpels. So shall it come back one day to thehills that are brighter than grass, made richerby the gratitude of many men. And mymaster shall smile thereat and the vale shallbe glad.
JOHN
It's very good of you, I'm sure.
MARY
I don't like it, John. I don't like tamperingwith what's gone.
ALI
My master's power is in your hands.Farewell.
[Exit.]
JOHN
I say, he's gone.
MARY
O, he's a dreadful man.
JOHN
I never really meant to take it.
MARY
0, John, I wish you hadn't
JOHN
Why? I'm not going to use it.
MARY
Not going to use it, John?
JOHN
No, no. Not if you don't want me to.
MARY
O, I'm so glad.
JOHN
And besides, I don't want things different.I've got fond of this little house. And Briggsis a good old sort, you know. Cater's a bitof an ass, but there's no harm in him. Infact, I'm contented, Mary. I wouldn't evenchange Aunt Martha now.
[Points at frowning framed photographcentrally hung.]
You remember when she first came andyou said "Where shall we hang her?" I saidthe cellar. You said we couldn't. So she hadto go there. But I wouldn't change her now.I suppose there are old watch-dogs like her inevery family. I wouldn't change anything.
MARY
0, John, wouldn't you really?
JOHN
No, I'm contented. Grim old soul, Iwouldn't even change Aunt Martha.
MARY
I'm glad of that, John. I was frightened.I couldn't bear to tamper with the past.You don't know what it is, it's what's gone.But if it really isn't gone at all, if it can be dugup like that, why you don't know whatmightn't happen! I don't mind the future,but if the past can come back like that....O, don't, don't, John. Don't think of it.It isn't canny. There's the children, John.
JOHN
Yes, yes, that's all right. It's only a littleornament. I won't use it. And I tell youI'm content.
[Happily]
It's no use to me.
MARY
I'm so glad you're content, John. Are youreally? Is there nothing that you'd have haddifferent? I sometimes thought you'd ratherthat Jane had been a boy.
JOHN
Not a bit of it. Well, I may have at thetime, but Arthur's good enough for me.
MARY
I'm so glad. And there's nothing you everregret at all?
JOHN
Nothing. And you? Is there nothing youregret, Mary?
MARY
Me? Oh, no. I still think that sofa wouldhave been better green, but you would haveit red.
JOHN
Yes, so I would. No, there's nothing Iregret.
MARY
I don't suppose there's many men can saythat.
JOHN
No, I don't suppose they can. They'renot all married to you. I don't supposemany of them can.
[MARY smiles.]
MARY
I should think that very few could saythat they regretted nothing . . . very fewin the whole world.
JOHN
Well, I won't say nothing.
MARY
What is it you regret, John?
JOHN
Well, there is one thing.
MARY
And what is that?
JOHN
One thing has rankled a bit.
MARY
Yes, John?
JOHN
O, it's nothing, it's nothing worth mention-ing. But it rankled for years.
MARY
What was it, John?
JOHN
O, it seems silly to mention it. It wasnothing.
MARY
But what?
JOHN
O, well, if you want to know, it was oncewhen I missed a train. I don't mind missinga train, but it was the way the porter pushedme out of the way. He pushed me by theface. I couldn't hit back, because, well, youknow what lawyers make of it; I might havebeen ruined. So it just rankled. It was yearsago before we married.
MARY
Pushed you by the face. Good gracious!
JOHN
Yes, I'd like to have caught that train inspite of him. I sometimes think of it still.Silly of me, isn't it?
MARY
What a brute of a man.
JOHN
0, I suppose he was doing his silly duty.But it rankled.
MARY
He'd no right to do any such thing! He'dno right to touch you!
JOHN
0, well, never mind.
MARY
I should like to have been there. . .
I'd have . . .
JOHN
0, well, it can't be helped now; but I'dlike to have caught it in sp . . .
[An idea seizes him.]
MARY
What is it?
JOHN
Can't be helped, I said. It's the very thingthat can be helped.
MARY
Can be helped, John? Whatever do youmean?
JOHN
I mean he'd no right to stop me catchingthat train. I've got the crystal, and I'llcatch it yet!
MARY
0, John, that's what you said you wouldn'tdo.
JOHN
No. I said I'd do nothing to alter the past.And I won't. I'm too content, Mary. Butthis can't alter it. This is nothing.
MARY
What were you going to catch the trainfor, John?
JOHN
For London. I wasn't at the office then.It was a business appointment. There was aman who had promised to get me a job, andI was going up to . . .
MARY
John, it may alter your whole life!
JOHN
Now do listen, Mary, do listen. He neverturned up. I got a letter from him apologis-ing to me before I posted mine to him. Itturned out he never meant to help me, meremeaningless affabilities. He never came toLondon that day at all. I should have takenthe next train back. That can't affect thefuture.
MARY
N-no, John. Still, I don't like it.
JOHN
What difference could it make?
MARY
N-n-no.
JOHN
Think how we met. We met at ARCHIE'swedding. I take it one has to go to one'sbrother's wedding. It would take a prettybig change to alter that. And. you were herbridesmaid. We were bound to meet. Andhaving once met, well, there you are. If we'dmet by chance, in a train, or anything likethat, well, then I admit some little changemight alter it. But when wee met at ARCHIE'swedding and you were her bridesmaid, why,Mary, it's a cert. Besides, I believe in pre-destination. It was our fate; we couldn'thave missed it.
MARY
No, I suppose not; still . .
JOHN
Well, what?
MARY
I don't like it.
JOHN
0, Mary, I have so longed to catch thatinfernal train. Just think of it, annoyed onand off for ten years by the eight-fifteen.
MARY
I'd rather you didn't, John.
JOHN
But why?
MARY
O, John, suppose there's a railway acci-dent? You might be killed, and we shouldnever meet.
JOHN
There wasn't.
MARY
There wasn't, John? What do you mean?
JOHN
There wasn't an accident to the eight-fif-teen. It got safely to London just ten years ago.
MARY
Why, nor there was.
JOHN
You see how groundless your fears are.I shall catch that train, and all the rest willhappen the same as before. Just thinkMary, all those old days again. I wish Icould take you with me. But you soon willbe. But just think of the old days comingback again. Hampton Court again and Kew,and Richmond Park again with all the May.And that bun you bought, and the corkedginger-beer, and those birds singing and the'bus past Isleworth. O, Mary, you wouldn'tgrudge me that?
MARY
Well, well then all right, John.
JOHN
And you will remember there wasn't anaccident, won't you?
MARY
[resignedly, sadly]
O, yes, John. And you won't try to getrich or do anything silly, will you?
JOHN
No, Mary. I only want to catch thattrain. I'm content with the rest. The samethings must happen, and they must lead methe same way, to you, Mary. Good night,now, dear.
MARY
Good night?
JOHN
I shall stay here on the sofa holding thecrystal and thinking. Then I'll have a bis-cuit and start at seven.
MARY
Thinking, John? What about?
JOHN
Getting it clear in my mind what I wantto do. That one thing and the rest the same.There must be no mistakes.
MARY
[sadly]
Good night, John.
JOHN
Have supper ready at eleven.
MARY
Very well, John.
[Exit.]
JOHN
[on the sofa, after a moment or two]
I'll catch that infernal train in spite of him.
[He takes the crystal and closes it up inthe palm of his left hand.]
I wish to go back ten years, two weeks anda day, at, at--8.IO a.m. to-morrow; 8.IO a.m.to-morrow, 8.IO.
[Re-enter MARY in doorway.]
MARY
John! John! You are sure he did gethis fifty pounds?
JOHN
Yes. Didn't he come to thank me for themoney?
MARY
You are sure it wasn't ten shillings?
JOHN
Cater paid him, I didn't.
MARY
Are you sure that Cater didn't give himten shillings?
JOHN
It's the sort of silly thing Cater would havedone!
MARY
O, John!
JOHN
Hmm.

Curtain

SCENE 3

Scene: As in Act I, Scene I. Time. Ten years ago.

BERT
'Ow goes it, Bill?
BILL
Goes it? 'Ow d'yer think it goes?
BERT
I don't know, Bill. 'Ow is it?
BILL
Bloody.
BERT
Why, what's wrong?
BILL
Wrong? Nothing ain't wrong.
BERT
What's up, then?
BILL
Nothing ain't right.
BERT
Why, wot's the worry?
BILL
Wot's the worry? They don't give youbetter wages nor a dog, and then they thinksthey can talk at yer and talk at yer, and saywot they likes, like.
BERT
Why? You been on the carpet, Bill?
BILL
Ain't I ! Proper.
BERT
Why? Wot about, Bill?
BILL
Wot about? I'll tell yer. Just coz I leta lidy get into a train. That's wot about.Said I ought to 'av stopped 'er. Thought thetrain was moving. Thought it was danger-ous. Thought I tried to murder 'er, I suppose.
BERT
Wot? The other day?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Tuesday?
BILL
Yes.
BERT
Why? The one that dropped her bag?
BILL
Yes. Drops 'er bag. Writes to the com-pany. They writes back she shouldn't 'avgot in. She writes back she should. Thenthey gets on to me. Any more of it and I'll. . .
BERT
I wouldn't, Bill; don't you.
BILL
I will.
BERT
Don't you, Bill. You've got your familyto consider.
BILL
Well, anyway, I won't let any more ofthem passengers go jumping into trains anymore, not when they're moving, I won't.When the train gets in, doors shut. That'sthe rule, and they'll have to abide by it.
[Enter JOHN BEAL.]
BILL
[touching his hat]
Good morning, sir.
[JOHN does not answer, but walks to thedoor between them.]
Carry your bag, sir?
JOHN
Go to hell!
[Exit through door.]
BILL
Ullo.
BERT
Somebody's been getting at 'im.
BILL
Well, I never did. Why, I knows the youngfeller.
BERT
Pleasant spoken, ain't 'e, as a rule?
BILL
Never knew 'im like this.
BERT
You ain't bin sayin' nothing to 'im, 'aveyer?
BILL
Never in my life.
BERT
Well, I never.
BILL
'Ad some trouble o' some kind.
BERT
Must 'ave.
[Train is heard.]
BILL
Ah, 'ere she is. Well, as I was saying . . .

Curtain

SCENE 4

In a second-class railway carriage.Time: Same morning as Scene I, Act I.

Noise, and a scene drawn past thewindows. The scene, showing a momen-tary glimpse of fair English hills, is al-most entirely placards, "GIVE HERBOVRIL," "GIVE HER OXO," alter-nately, for ever.

Occupants, JOHN BEAL, a girl, a man.

All sit in stoical silence like the twoimages near Luxor. The man has thewindow seat, and therefore the right ofcontrol over the window.

MIRALDA CLEMENT
Would you mind having the window open?

THE MAN IN THE CORNER
[shrugging hisshoulders in a shivery way]
Er--certainly.
[Meaning he does not mind.He opens the window.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
Thank you so much.
MAN IN THE CORNER
Not at all.
[He does not mean to contradicther. Stoical silence again.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
Would you mind having it shut now? Ithink it is rather cold.
MAN IN THE CORNER
Certainly.
[He shuts it. Silence again.]
MIRALDA CLEMENT
I think I'd like the window open again nowfor a bit. It is rather stuffy, isn't it?
MAN IN THE CORNER
Well, I think it's very cold.
MIRALDA CLEMENT
0, do you? But would you mind openingit for me?
MAN IN THE CORNER
I'd much rather it was shut, if you don'tmind.
[She sighs, moves her hands slightly, andher pretty face expresses the resignation ofthe Christian martyr in the presence oflions. This for the benefit of John.]
JOHN
Allow me, madam.
[He leans across the window's rightfulowner, a bigger man than he, and opens hiswindow.
MAN IN THE CORNER shrugs his shoul-ders and, quite sensibly, turns to his paper.]
MIRALDA
0, thank you so much.
JOHN
Don't mention it.
[Silence again.]
VOICES OF PORTERS
[Off]
Fan Kar, Fan Kar.
[MAN IN THE CORNER gets out.]
MIRALDA
Could you tell me where this is?
JOHN
Yes. Elephant and Castle.
MIRALDA
Thank you so much. It was kind of you toprotect me from that horrid man. He wantedto suffocate me.
JOHN
O, very glad to assist you, I'm sure. Veryglad.
MIRALDA
I should have been afraid to have done it inspite of him. It was splendid of you.
JOHN
O, that was nothing.
MIRALDA
O, it was, really.
JOHN
Only too glad to help you in any little way.
MIRALDA
It was so kind of you.
JOHN
O, not at all.
[Silence for a bit.]
MIRALDA
I've nobody to help me.
JOHN
Er, er, haven't you really?
MIRALDA
No, nobody.
JOHN
I'd be very glad to help you in any littleway.
MIRALDA
I wonder if you could advise me.
JOHN
I--I'd do my best.
MIRALDA
You see, I have nobody to advise me.
JOHN
No, of course not.
MIRALDA
I live with my aunt, and she doesn't under-stand. I've no father or mother.
JOHN
O, er, er, really?
MIRALDA
No. And an uncle died and he left me ahundred thousand pounds.
JOHN
Really?
MIRALDA
Yes. He didn't like me. I think he did itout of contrariness as much as anything.He was always like that to me.
JOHN
Was he? Was he really?
MIRALDA
Yes. It was invested at twenty-five percent. He never liked me. Thought I wastoo--I don't know what.
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
That was five years ago, and I've never gota penny of it.
JOHN
Really. But, but that's not right.
MIRALDA
[sadly]
No.
JOHN
Where's it invested?
MIRALDA
In Al Shaldomir.
JOHN
Where's that?
MIRALDA
I don't quite know. I never was good atgeography. I never quite knew where Persiaends.
JOHN
And what kind of an investment was it?
MIRALDA
There's a pass in some mountains that theycan get camels over, and a huge toll is leviedon everything that goes by; that is the customof the tribe that lives there, and I believethe toll is regularly collected.
JOHN
And who gets it?
MIRALDA
The chief of the tribe. He is called BenHussein. But my uncle lent him all thismoney, and the toll on the camels was whatthey call the security. They always carrygold and turquoise, you know.
JOHN
Do they?
MIRALDA
Yes, they get it from the rivers.
JOHN
I see.
MIRALDA
It does seem a shame his not paying,doesn't it?
JOHN
A shame? I should think it is. An awfulshame. Why, it's a crying shame. He oughtto go to prison.
MIRALDA
Yes, he ought. But you see it's so hardto find him. It isn't as if it was this side ofPersia. It's being on the other side that issuch a pity. If only it was in a country like,like . . .
JOHN
I'd soon find him. I'd . . . Why, a manlike that deserves anything.
MIRALDA
It is good of you to say that.
JOHN
Why, I'd . . . And you say you never got a penny?
MIRALDA
No.
JOHN
Well, that is a shame. I call that a down-right shame.
MIRALDA
Now, what ought I to do?
JOHN
Do? Well, now, you know in businessthere's nothing like being on the spot. Whenyou're on the spot you can--but then, ofcourse, it's so far.
MIRALDA
It is, isn't it?
JOHN
Still, I think you should go if you could.If only I could offer to help you in any way,I would gladly, but of course . . .
MIRALDA
What would you do?
JOHN
I'd go and find that Hussein fellow; andthen . . .
MIRALDA
Yes?
JOHN
Why, I'd tell him a bit about the law, andmake him see that you didn't keep all thatmoney that belonged to someone else.
MIRALDA
Would you really?
JOHN
Nothing would please me better.
MIRALDA
Would you really? Would you go all thatway?
JOHN
It's just the sort of thing that I should like,apart from the crying shame. The manought to be . . .
MIRALDA
We're getting into Holborn. Would youcome and lunch somewhere with me and talkit over?
JOHN
Gladly. I'd be glad to help. I've got tosee a man on business first. I've come up tosee him. And then after that, after thatthere was something I wanted to do after that.I can't think what it was. But something Iwanted to do after that. O, heavens, whatwas it?
[Pause.]
MIRALDA
Can't you think?
JOHN
No. O, well, it can't have been so veryimportant. And yet . . . Well, where shallwe lunch?
MIRALDA
Gratzenheim's.
JOHN
Right. What time?
MIRALDA
One-thirty. Would that suit?
JOHN
Perfectly. I'd like to get a man like Hus-sein in prison. I'd like . . . O, I beg yourpardon.
[He hurries to open the door. ExitMIRALDA.]
Now what was it I wanted to do after-wards?
[Throws hand to forehead.]
O, never mind.

Curtain

ACT II

SCENE I

JOHN'S tent in Al Shaldomir. Thereare two heaps of idols, left and right, lyingupon the ground inside the tent. DAOUDcarries another idol in his arms. JOHNlooks at its face.

Six months have elapsed since the scenein the second-class railway carriage.

JOHN BEAL
This god is holy.
[He points to the left heap. DAOUDcarries it there and lays it on the heap.]
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
You are in no wise to call me great master.Have not I said so? I am not your master.I am helping you people. I know better thanyou what you ought to do, because I am Eng-lish. But that's all. I'm not your master,See?
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
0, go and get some more idols. Hurry.
DAOUD
Great master, I go.
[Exit.]
JOHN BEAL
I can't make these people out.
DAOUD
[returning]
I have three gods.
JOHN BEAL
[looking at their faces, pointing tothe two smaller idols first]
These two are holy. This one is unholy.
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
Put them on the heap.
[DAOUD does so, two left, one right.]
Get some more.
[DAOUD salaams. Exit.]
[Looking at right heap.]
What a--what afilthy people
[Enter DAOUD with two idols.]
JOHN BEAL
[after scrutiny]
This god is holy, this is unholy.
[Enter ARCHIE BEAL, wearing a "Bow-ler" hat.]
Why, ARCHIE, this is splendid of you!You've come! Why, that's splendid! Allthat way!
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I've come. Whatever are you doing?
JOHN BEAL
ARCHIE, it's grand of you to come! I neverought to have asked it of you, only . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
0, that's all right. But what in the worldare you doing?
JOHN BEAL
ARCHIE, it's splendid of you.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, cut it. That's all right. But what's allthis?
JOHN BEAL
0, this. Well, well they're the very oddestpeople here. It's a long story. But I wantedto tell you first how enormously grateful Iam to you for coming.
ARCHIE BEAL
0, that's all right. But I want to knowwhat you're doing with all these genuineantiques.
JOHN BEAL
Well, ARCHIE, the fact of it is they're a realodd lot of people here. I've learnt their lan-guage, more or less, but I don't think I quiteunderstand them yet. A lot of them areMahommedans; they worship Mahommed,you know. He's dead. But a lot of themworship these things, and . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what have you got 'em all in herefor?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that's just it. I hate interfering withthem, but, well, I simply had to. You seethere's two sorts of idols here; they offerfruit and rats to some of them; they lay themon their hands or their laps.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why do they offer them rats?
JOHN BEAL
0, I don't know. They don't know either.It's the right thing to do out here, it's beenthe right thing for hundreds of years; nobodyexactly knows why. It's like the bows wehave on evening shoes, or anything else.But it's all right.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what are you putting them in heapsfor?
JOHN BEAL
Because there's the other kind, the oneswith wide mouths and rust round them.
ARCHIE BEAL
Rust? Yes, so there is. What do theydo?
JOHN BEAL
They offer blood to them, ARCHIE. Theypour it down their throats. Sometimes theykill people, sometimes they only bleed them.It depends how much blood the idol wants.
ARCHIE BEAL
How much blood it wants? Good Lord!
How do they know?
JOHN BEAL
The priests tell them. Sometimes theyfill them up to their necks--they're all hollow,you know. In spring it's awful.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why are they worse in spring?
JOHN BEAL
I don't know. The priests ask for moreblood then. Much more. They say it alwayswas so.
ARCHIE BEAL
And you're stopping it?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, I'm stopping these. One must. I'mletting them worship those. Of course, it'sidolatry and all that kind of thing, but Idon't like interfering short of actual murder.
ARCHIE BEAL
And they're obeying you?
JOHN BEAL
'M, y-yes. I think so.
ARCHIE BEAL
You must have got a great hold over them.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I don't know about that. It's thepass that counts.
ARCHIE BEAL
The pass?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that place you came over. It's theonly way anyone can get here.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I suppose it is. But how does the passaffect these idols?
JOHN BEAL
It affects everything here. If that passwere closed no living man would ever enteror leave, or even hear of, this country. It'sabsolutely cut off except for that one pass.Why, ARCHIE, it isn't even on the map.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I know.
JOHN BEAL
Well, whoever owns that pass is everybody.No one else counts.
ARCHIE BEAL
And who does own it?
JOHN BEAL
Well, it's actually owned by a fellow calledHussein, but Miss Clement's uncle, a mancalled Hinnard, a kind of lonely explorer,seems to have come this way; and I think heunderstood what this pass is worth. Any-how, he lent Hussein a big sum of money andgot an acknowledgment from Hussein. OldHinnard must have been a wonderfullyshrewd man. For that acknowledgment isno more legal than an I.O.U., and Husseinis simply a brigand.
ARCHIE BEAL
Not very good security.
JOHN BEAL
Well, you're wrong there. Hussein himselfrespects that piece of parchment he signed.There's the name of some god or other writtenon it Hussein is frightened of. Now yousee how things are. That pass is as holy asall the gods that there are in Al Shaldomir.Hussein possesses it. But he owes an enor-mous sum to Miss Miralda Clement, and I amhere as her agent; and you've come to helpme like a great sportsman.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, never mind that. Well, it all seemspretty simple.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I don't know, ARCHIE. Husseinadmits the debt, but . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
But what?
JOHN BEAL
I don't know what he'll do.
ARCHIE BEAL
Wants watching, does he?
JOHN BEAL
Yes. And meanwhile I feel sort of re-sponsible for all these silly people. Some-body's got to look after them. Daoud!
DAOUD
[off]
Great master.
JOHN BEAL
Bring in some more gods.
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
I can't get them to stop calling me absurdtitles. They're so infernally Oriental.
[Enter DAOUD.]
ARCHIE BEAL
He's got two big ones this time.
JOHN BEAL
[to ARCHIE]
You see, there is rust about their mouths.
[To DAOUD]
They are both unholy.
[He points to R. heap, and DAOUDputs them there. To DAOUD.]
Bring in some more.
DAOUD
Great master, there are no more gods inAl Shaldomir.
JOHN BEAL
It is well.
DAOUD
What orders, great master.
JOHN BEAL
Listen. At night you shall come and takethese gods away. These shall be worshippedagain in their own place, these you shall castinto the great river and tell no man where youcast them.
DAOUD
Yes, great master.
JOHN BEAL
You will do this, Daoud?
DAOUD
Even so, great master.
JOHN BEAL
I am sorry to make you do it. You aresad that you have to do it. Yet it must bedone.
DAOUD
Yes, I am sad, great master.
JOHN BEAL
But why are you sad, Daoud?
DAOUD
Great master, in times you do not knowthese gods were holy. In times you have notguessed. In old centuries, master, perhapsbefore the pass. Men have prayed to them,sorrowed before them, given offerings tothem. The light of old hearths has shone onthem, flames from old battles. The shadowof the mountains has fallen on them, somany times, master, so many times. Dawnand sunset have shone on them, master, likefirelight flickering; dawn and sunset, dawnand sunset, flicker, flicker, flicker for centuryafter century. They have sat there watchingthe dawns like old men by the fire. They areso old, master, so old. And some day dawnand sunset will die away and shine on theworld no more, and they would have stillsat on in the cold. And now they go. . .They are our history, master, they are our oldtimes. Though they be bad times they areour times, master; and now they go. I amsad, master, when the old gods go.
JOHN BEAL
But they are bad gods, Daoud.
DAOUD
I am sad when the bad gods go.
JOHN BEAL
They must go, Daoud. See, there is noone watching. Take them now.
RESCAN 66-67
sible. If Hussein's lot turn nasty you don'tknow what he'd do, with all those idols andall.
ARCHIE BEAL
He'll give 'em a drink, you mean.
JOHN BEAL
Don't, ARCHIE. There's no saying. And Ifeel responsible for you.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, they can have my hat. It lookssilly, somehow. I don't know why. Whatare we going to do?
JOHN BEAL
Well, now that you've come we can goahead.
ARCHIE BEAL
Righto. What at?
JOHN BEAL
We've got to see Hussein's accounts, andget everything clear in black and white, andsee just what he owes to Miss MiraldaClement.
ARCHIE BEAL
But they don't keep accounts here.
JOHN BEAL
How do you know?
ARCHIE BEAL
Why, of course they don't. One can seethat.
JOHN BEAL
But they must.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, you haven't changed a bit for yoursix months here.
JOHN BEAL
Haven't changed?
ARCHIE BEAL
No. Just quietly thinking of business.You'll be a great business man, Johnny.
JOHN BEAL
But we must do business; that's what Icame here for.
ARCHIE BEAL
You'll never make these people do it.
JOHN BEAL
Well, what do you suggest?
ARCHIE BEAL
Let's have a look at old Hussein.
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that's what I have been waiting for.Daoud!
DAOUD
[off]
Master.
[Enters.]
JOHN BEAL
Go to the palace of the Lord of the passand beat on the outer door. Say that I de-sire to see him. Pray him to come to mytent.
[DAOUD bows and Exit.]
[To ARCHIE.]
I've sent him to the palaceto ask Hussein to come.
ARCHIE BEAL
Lives in a palace, does he?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, it's a palace, it's a wonderful place.It's bigger than the Mansion House, much.
ARCHIE BEAL
And you're going to teach him to keepaccounts.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I must. I hate doing it. It seemsalmost like being rude to the Lord Mayor.But there's two things I can't stand--cheat-ing in business is one and murder's another.I've got to interfere. You see, if one happensto know the right from wrong as we do, we'vesimply got to tell people who don't. Butit isn't pleasant. I almost wish I'd nevercome.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why, it's the greatest sport in the world.It's splendid.
JOHN BEAL
I don't see it that way. To me those idolsare just horrid murder. And this man owesmoney to this girl with no one to look afterher, and he's got to pay. But I hate beingrude to a man in a place like the MansionHouse, even if he is black. Why, good Lord,who am I? It seems such cheek.
ARCHIE BEAL
I say, Johnny, tell me about the lady. Isshe pretty?
JOHN BEAL
What, Miss Miralda? Yes.
ARCHIE BEAL
But what I mean is--what's she like?
JOHN BEAL
Oh, I don't know. It's very hard to say.She's, she's tall and she's fair and she's gotblue eyes.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, but I mean what kind of a person isshe? How does she strike you?
JOHN BEAL
Well, she's pretty hard up until she getsthis money, and she hasn't got any job that'sany good, and no real prospects bar this,and nobody particular by birth, and doesn'tknow anybody who is, and lives in the leastfashionable suburb and can only just afforda second-class fare and . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, yes, go on.
JOHN BEAL
And yet somehow she sort of seems like a--like a queen.
ARCHIE BEAL
Lord above us! And what kind of a queen?
JOHN BEAL
0, I don't know. Well, look here, ARCHIE,it's only my impression. I don't know herwell yet. It's only my impression. I onlytell you in absolute confidence. You won'tpass it on to anybody, of course.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, no. Go on.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I don't know, only she seemed morelike well, a kind of autocrat, you know,who'd stop at nothing. Well, no, I don'tmean that, only . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
So you're not going to marry her?
JOHN BEAL
Marry her! Good Lord, no. Why, you'dnever dare ask her. She's not that sort. Itell you she's a sort of queen. And (GoodLord!) she'd be a queen if it wasn't for Hus-sein, or something very like one. We can'tgo marrying queens. Anyhow, not one likeher.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why not one like her?
JOHN BEAL
I tell you--she's a--well, a kind of goddess.You couldn't ask her if she loved you. Itwould be such, such . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
Such what?
JOHN BEAL
Such infernal cheek.
ARCHIE BEAL
I see. Well, I see you aren't in love withher. But it seems to me you'll be seeing agood deal of her some day if we pull this off.And then, my boy-o, you'll be going andgetting in love with her.
JOHN BEAL
I tell you I daren't. I'd as soon propose tothe Queen of Sheba.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, Johnny, I'm going to protect youfrom her all I can.
JOHN BEAL
Protect me from her? Why?
ARCHIE BEAL
Why, because there's lots of other girlsand it seems to me you might be happier withsome of them.
JOHN BEAL
But you haven't even seen her.
ARCHIE BEAL
Nor I have. Still, if I'm here to protectyou I somehow think I will. And if I'm not
JOHN BEAL
Well, and what then?
ARCHIE BEAL
What nonsense I'm talking. Fate doeseverything. I can't protect you.
JOHN BEAL
Yes, it's nonsense all right, ARCHIE, but . . .
HUSSEIN
[off]
I am here.
JOHN BEAL
Be seen.
[HUSSEIN enters. He is not unlikeBluebeard.]
JOHN BEAL
[pointing to ARCHIE]
My brother.
[ARCHIE shakes hands with HUSSEIN.HUSSEIN looks at his hand when it isover in a puzzled way. JOHN BEAL andHussein then bow to each other.]
HUSSEIN
You desired my presence.
JOHN BEAL
I am honoured.
HUSSEIN
And I.
JOHN BEAL
The white traveller, whom we call Hinnard,lent you one thousand greater gold pieces,which in our money is one hundred thousandpounds, as you acknowledge.
[Husseinnods his head.]
And every year you were topay him for this two hundred and fifty of yourgreater gold pieces--as you acknowledge also.
HUSSEIN
Even so.
JOHN BEAL
And this you have not yet had chance topay, but owe it still.
HUSSEIN
I do.
JOHN BEAL
And now Hinnard is dead.
HUSSEIN
Peace be with him.
JOHN BEAL
His heiress is Miss Miralda Clement, whoinstructs me to be her agent. What have youto say?
HUSSEIN
Peace be with Hinnard.
JOHN BEAL
You acknowledge your debt to this lady,Miss Miralda Clement?
HUSSEIN
I know her not.
JOHN BEAL
You will not pay your debt?
HUSSEIN
I will pay.
JOHN BEAL
If you bring the gold to my tent, mybrother will take it to Miss Clement.
HUSSEIN
I do not pay to Miss Clement.
JOHN BEAL
To whom do you pay?
HUSSEIN
I pay to Hinnard.
JOHN BEAL
Hinnard is dead.
HUSSEIN
I pay to Hinnard.
JOHN BEAL
How will you pay to Hinnard?
HUSSEIN
If he be buried in the sea . . .
JOHN BEAL
He is not buried at sea.
HUSSEIN
If he be buried by any river I go to the godof rivers.
JOHN BEAL
He is buried on land near no river.
HUSSEIN
Therefore I will go to a bronze god ofearth, very holy, having the soil in his careand the things of earth. I will take unto himthe greater pieces of gold due up to the yearwhen the white traveller died, and will meltthem in fire at his feet by night on the moun-tains, saying, " O, Lruru-onn (this is hisname) take this by the way of earth to thegrave of Hinnard." And so I shall be freeof my debt before all gods.
JOHN BEAL
But not before me. I am English. Andwe are greater than gods.
ARCHIE BEAL
What's that, Johnny?
JOHN BEAL
He won't pay, but I told him we're Englishand that they're greater than all his bronzegods.
ARCHIE BEAL
That's right, Johnny.
[HUSSEIN looks fiercely at ARCHIE.He sees ARCHIE'S hat lying before a bigidol. He points at the hat and looks inthe face of the idol.]
HUSSEIN
[to the idol]
Drink! Drink!
[He bows. Exit.]
ARCHIE BEAL
What's that he's saying?
JOHN BEAL
[meditatively]
O, nothing--nothing.
ARCHIE BEAL
He won't pay, oh?
JOHN BEAL
No, not to Miss Miralda.
ARCHIE BEAL
Who to?
JOHN BEAL
To one of his gods.
ARCHIE BEAL
That won't do.
JOHN BEAL
No.
ARCHIE BEAL
What'll we do?
JOHN BEAL
I don't quite know. It isn't as if we were inEngland.
ARCHIE BEAL
No, it isn't.
JOHN BEAL
If we were in England . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
I know; if we were in England you could call a policeman. I tell you what it is,Johnny.
JOHN BEAL
Yes?
ARCHIE BEAL
I tell you what; you want to see more ofMiss Clement.
JOHN BEAL
Why?
ARCHIE BEAL
Why, because at the present moment ourfriend Hussein is a craftier fellow than you,and looks like getting the best of it.
JOHN BEAL
How will seeing more of Miss Miralda helpus?
ARCHIE BEAL
Why, because you want to be a bit craftierthan Hussein, and I fancy she might makeyou.
JOHN BEAL
She? How?
ARCHIE BEAL
We're mostly made what we are by somewoman or other. We think it's our owncleverness, but we're wrong. As things areyou're no match for Hussein, but if youaltered . . .
JOHN BEAL
Why, ARCHIE; where did you get all thoseideas from?
ARCHIE BEAL
O, I don't know.
JOHN BEAL
You never used to talk like that.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, well.
JOHN BEAL
You haven't been getting in love, ARCHIE,have you?
ARCHIE BEAL
What are we to do about Hussein?
JOHN BEAL
It's funny your mentioning Miss Miralda.I got a letter from her the same day I gotyours.
ARCHIE BEAL
What does she say?
JOHN BEAL
I couldn't make it out.
ARCHIE BEAL
What were her words?
JOHN BEAL
She said she was going into it closer. Sheunderlined closer. What could she mean bythat? How could she get closer?
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, the same way as I did.
JOHN BEAL
How do you mean? I don't understand.
ARCHIE BEAL
By coming here.
JOHN BEAL
By coming here? But she can't come here.
ARCHIE BEAL
Why not?
JOHN BEAL
Because it's impossible. Absolutely im-possible. Why--good Lord--she couldn'tcome here. Why, she'd want a chaperon anda house and--and--everything. Good Lord,she couldn't come here. It would be--wellit would be impossible--it couldn't be done.
ARCHIE BEAL
0, all right. Then I don't know what shemeant.
JOHN BEAL
ARCHIE! You don't really think she'd comehere? You don't really think it, do you?
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, it's the sort of thing that that sort ofgirl might do, but of course I can't say . . .
JOHN BEAL
Good Lord, ARCHIE! That would be awful.
ARCHIE BEAL
But why?
JOHN BEAL
Why? But what would I do? Wherewould she go? Where would her chaperongo? The chaperon would be some elderlylady. Why, it would kill her.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, if it did you've never met her, so vouneedn't go into mourning for an elderly ladythat you don't know; not yet, anyway.
JOHN BEAL
No, of course not. You're laughing at me,ARCHIE. But for the moment I took youseriously. Of course, she won't come. Onecan go into a thing closely without doing it absolutely literally. But, good Lord, wouldn'tit be an awful situation if she did.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, I don't know.
JOHN BEAL
All alone with me here? No, impossible.And the country isn't civilised.
ARCHIE BEAL.
Women aren't civilised.
JOHN BEAL
Women aren't . . .? Good Lord, ARCHIE,what an awful remark. What do you mean?
ARCHIE BEAL
We're tame, they're wild. We like all thedull things and the quiet things, they likeall the romantic things and the dangerousthings.
JOHN BEAL
Why, ARCHIE, it's just the other way about.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, yes; we do all the romantic things, andall the dangerous things. But why?
JOHN BEAL
Why? Because we like them, I suppose.I can't think of any other reason.
ARCHIE BEAL
I hate danger. Don't you?
JOHN BEAL
Er--well, yes, I suppose I do, really.
ARCHIE BEAL
Of course you do. We all do. It's thewomen that put us up to it. She's puttingyou up to this. And the more she puts youup to the more likely is Hussein to get it in hisfat neck.
JOHN BEAL
But--but you don't mean you'd hurtHussein? Not--not badly, I mean.
ARCHIE BEAL
We're under her orders, Johnny. See whatshe says.
JOHN BEAL
You, you don't really think she'll comehere?
ARCHIE BEAL
Of course I do, and the best thing too.It's her show; she ought to come.
JOHN BEAL
But, but you don't understand. She'sjust a young girl, A girl like Miss Miralda couldn't come out here over the pass anddown these mountains, she'd never stand it, and as for the chaperon . . . You'venever met Miss Miralda.
ARCHIE BEAL
No, Johnny. But the girl that was able toget you to go from Bromley to this place canlook after herself.
JOHN BEAL
I don't see what that's got to do with it.She was in trouble and I had to help her.
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, and she'll be in trouble all the wayhere from Blackheath, and everyone will haveto help her.
JOHN BEAL
What beats me is how you can have thevery faintest inkling of what she's like with-out ever having seen her and without myhaving spoken of her to you for more than aminute.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, Johnny, you're not a romantic bird,you're not a traveller by nature, barring yourone trip to Eastbourne, and it was I that tookyou there. And contrariwise, as they say ina book you've never read, you're a level-headed business man and a hardworkingrespectable stay-at-home. You meet a girlin a train, and the next time I see you you'rein a place that isn't marked on the map andtelling it what gods it ought to worship andwhat gods it ought to have agnosticism about.Well, I say some girl.
JOHN BEAL
Well, I must say you make the most extra-ordinary deductions, but it was awfully goodof you to come, and I ought to be grateful;and I am, too, I'm awfully grateful; and Iought to let you talk all the rot you like. Goahead. You shall say what you like and dowhat you like. It isn't many brothers thatwould do what you've done.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, that's nothing. I like this country.I'm glad I came. And if I can help you withHussein, why all the better.
JOHN BEAL
It's an awful country, Archie, but we'vegot to see this through.
ARCHIE BEAL
Does she know all about Hussein?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, everything. I've written fully.
OMAR
[Off]
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,The nightingales that guard thy ways . . .
JOHN BEAL
[shouting]
O, go away, go away.
[To ARCHIE.]
I saidit was an awful country. They sit down out-side one's tent and do that kind of thing forno earthly reason.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, I'd let them sing.
JOHN BEAL
0, you can't have people doing that kind ofthing.
OMAR
[in doorway]
Master, I go.
JOHN BEAL
But why do you come?
OMAR
I came to sing a joyous song to you, master.
JOHN BEAL
Why did you want to sing me a joyoussong?
OMAR
Because a lady is riding out of the West.
[Exit.]
JOHN BEAL
A lady out of . . . Good Lord!
ARCHIE BEAL
She's coming, Johnny.
JOHN BEAL
Coming? Good Lord, no, Archie. He saida lady; there'd be the chaperon too. There'dbe two of them if it was Miss Miralda. Buthe said a lady. One lady. It can't be her.A girl like that alone in Al Shaldomir. Cleanoff the map. Oh, no, it isn't possible.
ARCHIE BEAL
I wouldn't worry.
JOHN BEAL
Wouldn't worry? But, good Lord, thesituation's impossible. People would talk.Don't you see what people would say? Andwhere could they go? Who would look afterthem? Do try and understand how awfulit is. But it isn't. It's impossible. It can'tbe them. For heaven's sake run out and seeif it is; and (good Lord!) I haven't brushedmy hair all day, and, and--oh, look at me.
[He rushes to camp mirror. ExitARCHIE.JOHN BEAL tidies up desperately.Enter ARCHIE.]
ARCHIE BEAL
It's what you call THEM.
JOHN BEAL
What I call THEM? Whatever do youmean?
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, it's her. She's just like what you said.
JOHN BEAL
But it can't be. She doesn't ride. She cannever have been able to afford a horse.
ARCHIE BEAL
She's on a camel. She'll be here in a mo-ment.
[He goes to door.]
Hurry up with thathair; she's dismounted.
JOHN BEAL
O, Lord! What's the chaperon like?
ARCHIE BEAL
O, she's attending to that herself.
JOHN BEAL
Attending to it herself? What do youmean?
ARCHIE BEAL
I expect she'll attend to most things.
[Enter HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN in door-way of tent, pulling back flap a little.]
JOHN BEAL
Who are you?
HAFIZ
I show the gracious lady to your tent.
[Enter MIRALDA CLEMENT, throwinga smile to HAFIZ.]
MIRALDA
Hullo, Mr. Beal.
JOHN BEAL
Er--er--how do you do?
[She looks at ARCHIE.]
O, this is my brother--Miss Clement.
MIRANDA and ARCHIE BEAL
How do you do?
MIRALDA
I like this country.
JOHN BEAL
I'm afraid I hardly expected you.
MIRALDA
Didn't you?
JOHN BEAL
No. You see er--it's such a long way.
And wasn't it very expensive?
MIRALDA
Well, the captain of the ship was very kindto me.
JOHN BEAL
O! But what did you do when you landed?
MIRALDA
0, there were some Arabs coming this wayin a caravan. They were really very good tome too.
JOHN BEAL
But the camel?
MIRALDA
0, there were some people the other side ofthe mountains. Everybody has been verykind about it. And then there was the manwho showed me here. He's called Hafiz elAlcolahn. It's a nice name, don't you think?
JOHN BEAL
But, you know, this country, Miss Cle-ment, I'm half afraid it's hardly--isn't it,Archie? Er--how long did you think ofstaying?
MIRALDA
O, a week or so.
JOHN BEAL
I don't know what you'll think of Al Shal-domir. I'm afraid you'll find it . . .
MIRALDA
Oh, I like it. Just that hollow in the moun-tains, and the one pass, and no record of itanywhere. I like that. I think it's lovely.
JOHN BEAL
You see, I'm afraid--what I mean is I'mafraid the place isn't even on the map!
MIRALDA
O, that's lovely of it.
JOHN BEAL
All decent places are.
MIRALDA
You mean if a place is on the map we'vegot to behave accordingly. But if not, why . . .
JOHN BEAL
Hussein won't pay.
MIRALDA
Let's see Hussein.
JOHN BEAL
I'm afraid he's rather, he's rather a savage-looking brigand.
MIRALDA
Never mind.
[ARCHIE is quietly listening and smilingsometimes.Enter DAOUD. He goes up to the un-holy heap and takes away two large idols,one under each arm. Exit.]
What's that, Mr. Beal?
JOHN BEAL
O, that. I'm afraid it's rather horrible.I told you it was an awful country. Theypray to these idols here, and some are allright, though of course it's terribly blasphe-mous, but that heap, well, I'm afraid, wellthat heap is very bad indeed.
MIRALDA
What do they do?
JOHN BEAL
They kill people.
MIRALDA
Do they? How?
JOHN BEAL
I'm afraid they pour their blood down thosehorrible throats.
MIRALDA
Do they? How do you know?
JOHN BEAL
I've seen them do it, and those mouthsare all rusty. But it's all right now. Itwon't happen any more.
MIRALDA
Won't it? Why not?
JOHN BEAL
Well, I . . .
ARCHIE BEAL
He's stopped them, Miss Clement. They'reall going to be thrown into the river.
MIRALDA
Have you?
JOHN BEAL
Well, yes. I had to. So it's all right now.They won't do it any more.
MIRALDA
H'm.
JOHN BEAL
What, what is it? I promise you that's allright. They won't do that any more.
MIRALDA
H'm. I've never known anyone that triedto govern a country or anything of that sort,but . . .
JOHN BEAL
Of course, I'm just doing what I can to putthem right.. . . I'd be very glad of youradvice. . . Of course, I'm only here inyour name.
MIRALDA
What I mean is that I'd always thoughtthat the one thing you shouldn't do, if youdon't mind my saying so. . .
JOHN BEAL
No, certainly.
MIRALDA
Was to interfere in people's re-ligious beliefs.
JOHN BEAL
But, but I don't think you quite under-stand. The priests knife these people in thethroat, boys and girls, and then acolyteslift them up and the blood runs down. I'veseen them.
MIRALDA
I think it's best to leave religion to thepriests. They understand that kind of thing.
[JOHN BEAL opens his mouth in horrorand looks at ARCHIE. ARCHIE returnsthe glance; there is very nearly a twinkle inARCHIE's eyes.]
MIRALDA
Let's see Hussein.
JOHN BEAL
What do you think, Archie?
ARCHIE BEAL
Poor fellow. We'd better send for him.
MIRALDA
Why do you say "poor fellow"?
ARCHIE BEAL
Oh, because he's so much in debt. It'sawful to be in debt. I'd sooner almost any-thing happened to me than to owe a lot ofmoney.
MIRALDA
Your remark didn't sound very compli-mentary.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, I only meant that I'd hate to be in debt.And I should hate owing money to you,Because . . .
MIRALDA
Why?
ARCHIE BEAL
Because I should so awfully want to pay it.
MIRALDA
I see.
ARCHIE BEAL
That's all I meant.
MIRALDA
Does Hussein awfully want to pay it?
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, no. But he hasn't seen you yet. Hewill then, of course.
[Enter DAOUD. He goes to the unholyheap.]
JOHN BEAL
Daoud, for the present these gods muststay. Aho-oomlah's gone, but the rest muststay for the present.
DAOUD
Even so, great master.
JOHN BEAL
Daoud, go once more to the palace of theLord of the Pass and beat the outer door.Say that the great lady herself would see him.The great lady, Miss Clement, the whitetraveller's heiress.
DAOUD
Yes, master.
JOHN BEAL
Hasten.
[Exit DAOUD.]
I have sent him for Hussein.
MIRALDA
I don't know their language.
JOHN BEAL
You will see him, and I'll tell you what hesays.
MIRALDA
[to ARCHIE]
Have you been here long?
ARCHIE BEAL
No. I think he wrote to me by the samemail as he wrote to you (if they have mailshere). I came at once.
MIRALDA
So did I; but you weren't on the Empressof Switzerland.
ARCHIE BEAL
No, I came round more by land.
JOHN BEAL
You know, I hardly like bringing Husseinin here to see you. He's such a--he's rathera . . .
MIRALDA
What's the matter with him?
JOHN BEAL
Well, he's rather of the brigand type, andone doesn't know what he'll do.
MIRALDA
Well, we must see him first and hear whathe has to say before we take any steps.
JOHN BEAL
But what do you propose to do?
MIRALDA
Why, if he pays me everything he owes, orgives up the security . . .
JOHN BEAL
The security is the pass.
MIRALDA
Yes. If he gives up that or pays . . .
JOHN BEAL
You know he's practically king of thewhole country. It seems rather cheek almostmy sending for him like this.
MIRALDA
He must come.
JOHN BEAL
But what are you going to do?
MIRALDA
If he gives up the pass . . .
JOHN BEAL
Why, if he gives up the pass you'd beyou'd be a kind of queen of it all.
MIRALDA
Well, if he does that, all right. . .
JOHN BEAL
But what if he doesn't?
MIRALDA
Why, if he doesn't pay . . .
HUSSEIN
[off]
I am here.
JOHN BEAL
Be seen.
[Enter HUSSEIN.]
HUSSEIN
Greeting once more.
JOHN BEAL
Again greeting.... The great lady,Miss Clement, is here.
[HUSSEIN and MIRALDA look at eachother.]
You will pay to Miss Clement and not toyour god of bronze. On the word of an Eng-lishman, your god of bronze shall not haveone gold piece that belongs to the great lady!
HUSSEIN
[looking contemptuous]
On the word of the Lord of the Pass, I onlypay to Hinnard.
[He stands smiling while MIRALDAregards him. Exit.]
ARCHIE BEAL
Well?
JOHN BEAL
He won't pay.
ARCHIE BEAL
What are we to do now?
JOHN BEAL
[to MIRALDA]
I'm afraid he's rather an ugly customer tointroduce you to like that. I'm sorry he camenow.
MIRALDA
0, I like him, I think he looks splendid.
ARCHIE BEAL
Well, what are we to do?
JOHN BEAL
Yes.
ARCHIE BEAL
What do you say, Miss Clement?
JOHN BEAL
Yes, what do you feel we ought to do?
MIRALDA
Well, perhaps I ought to leave all that to you.
ARCHIE BEAL
O, no.
JOHN BEAL
No, it's your money. What do you thinkwe really ought to do?
MIRALDA
Well, of course, I think you ought to killHussein.
[JOHN BEAL and ARCHIE BEAL lookat each other a little startled.]
JOHN BEAL
But wouldn't that--wouldn't that be--murder?
MIRALDA
0, yes, according to the English law.
JOHN BEAL
I see; you mean--you mean we're not--butwe are English.
MIRALDA
I mean it wouldn't be murder--by yourlaw, unless you made it so.
JOHN BEAL
By my law?
MIRALDA
Yes, if you can interfere with their religionlike this, and none of them say a word, why--you can make any laws you like.
JOHN BEAL
But Hussein is king here; he is Lord of thePass, and that's everything here. I'm nobody.
MIRALDA
0, if you like to be nobody, of course that'sdifferent.
ARCHIE BEAL
I think she means that if Hussein weren'tthere there'd be only you. Of course, I don'tknow. I've only just come.
JOHN BEAL
But we can't kill Hussein!
[MIRALDA begins to cry.]
O Lord! Good heavens! Please, MissClement! I'm awfully sorry if I've said any-thing you didn't like. I wouldn't do that forworlds. I'm awfully sorry. It's a beastlycountry, I know. I'm really sorry you came.I feel it's all my fault. I'm really awfullysorry. . .
MIRALDA
Never mind. Never mind. I was so help-less, and I asked you to help me. I neverought to have done it. I oughtn't to havespoken to you at all in that train withoutbeing introduced; but I was so helpless. Andnow, and now, I haven't a penny in the world,and, O, I don't know what to do.
ARCHIE BEAL
We'll do anything for you, Miss Clement.
JOHN BEAL
Anything in the wide world. Please, pleasedon't cry. We'll do anything.
MIRALDA
I . . . I only, I only wanted to--to killHussein. But never mind, it doesn't matternow.
JOHN BEAL
We'll do it, Miss Clement, won't we,Archie? Only don't cry. We'll do it. I--Isuppose he deserves it, doesn't he?
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, I suppose he does.
JOHN BEAL
Well, all right, Miss Clement, that's settled.My brother and I will talk it over.
MIRALDA
[still sniping]
And--and--don't hang him or anything--he looks so fine.... I--I wouldn't likehim treated like that. He has such a grandbeard. He ought to die fighting.
JOHN BEAL
We'll see what we can do, Miss Clement.
MIRALDA
It is sweet of you. It's really sweet. It'ssweet of both of you. I don't know what I dhave done without you. I seemed to knowit that day the moment I saw you.
JOHN BEAL
0, it's nothing, Miss Clement, nothing atall.
ARCHIE BEAL
That's all right.
MIRALDA
Well, now I'll have to look for an hotel.
JOHN BEAL
Yes, that's the trouble, that really is thetrouble. That's what I've been thinking of
MIRALDA
Why, isn't there . . .
JOHN BEAL
No, I'm afraid there isn't. What are we todo, Archie.
ARCHIE BEAL
I--I can't think. Perhaps Miss Clementwould have a scheme.
MIRALDA
[to JOHN BEAL]
I rely on you, Mr. Beal.
JOHN BEAL
I--I; but what can I . . . You see,you're all alone. If you'd anyone with you,you could have . . .
MIRALDA
I did think of bringing a rather nice aunt.But on the whole I thought it better not totell anyone.
JOHN BEAL
Not to tell . . .
MIRALDA
No, on the whole I didn't.
JOHN BEAL
I say, Archie, what are we to do?
ARCHIE BEAL
Here's Daoud.
[Enter DAOUD.]
JOHN BEAL
The one man I trust in Al Shaldomir!
DAOUD
I have brought two watchers of the door-step to guard the noble lady.
JOHN BEAL
He says he's brought two watchers of thedoorstep to look after Miss Clement.
ARCHIE BEAL
Two chaperons! Splendid! She can goanywhere now.
JOHN BEAL
Well, really, that is better. Yes that willbe all right. We can find a room for you now.The trouble was your being alone. I hopeyou'll like them.
[To DAOUD.]
Tell themto enter here.
DAOUD
[beckoning in the doorway]
Ho! Enter!
JOHN BEAL
That's all right, ARCHIE, isn't it?
ARCHIE BEAL
Yes, that's all right. A chaperon's achaperon, black or white.
JOHN BEAL
You won't mind their being black, will you,Miss Clement?
MIRALDA
No, I shan't mind. They can't be worsethan white ones.
[Enter BAzzAroL and THOOTHOOBABAtwo enormous Nubians, bearing peacockfans and wearing scimitars. All stare atthem. They begin to fan slightly.]
DAOUD
The watchers of the doorstep.
JOHN BEAL
Idiot, Daoud! Fools! Dolts! Men maynot guard a lady's door.
[BAZZALOL and THOOTHOOBABA smileingratiatingly.]
We are not men.
BAZZALOL
[bowing]CurtainSix and a half years elapse
THE SONG OF THE IRIS MARSHES
When morn is bright on the mountains olden
Till dawn is lost in the blaze of day,
When morn is bright and the marshes golden,
Where shall the lost lights fade away?
And where, my love, shall we dream to-day?

Dawn is fled to the marshy hollows

Where ghosts of stars in the dimness stray,
And the water is streaked with the flash of swallows
And all through summer the iris sway.
But where, my love, shall we dream to-day?

When night is black in the iris marshes.

ACT III

SCENE I

Six and a half years later.

Al Shaldomir.

A room in the palace.

MIRALDA reclines on a heap of cushions,JOHN beside her.

Bazzalol and Thoothoobaba fan them.

OMAR
[declaiming to a zither]
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways
Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise.
Thou art the theme of all their lays.
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir. . . .
MIRALDA
Go now, Omar.
OMAR
O lady, I depart.
[Exit.]
MIRALDA
[languidly]
John, John. I wish you'd marry me.
JOHN
Miralda, you're thinking of those old cus-toms again that we left behind us seven yearsago. What's the good of it?
MIRALDA
I had a fancy that I wished you would.
JOHN
What's the good of it? You know you aremy beloved. There are none of those clergy-men within hundreds of miles. What's thegood of it?
MIRALDA
We could find one, John.
JOHN
O, yes, I suppose we could, but . . .
MIRALDA
Why won't you?
JOHN
I told you why.
MIRALDA
O, yes, that instinct that you must notmarry. That's not your reason, John.
JOHN
Yes, it is.
MIRALDA
It's a silly reason. It's a crazy reason.It's no reason at all. There's some otherreason.
JOHN
No, there isn't. But I feel that in mybones. I don't know why. You know thatI love none else but you. Besides, we'renever going back, and it doesn't matter.This isn't Blackheath.
MIRALDA
So I must live as your slave.
JOHN
No, no, Miralda. My dear, you are not myslave. Did not the singer compare our loveto the desire of the nightingale for the even-ing star? All know that you are my queen.
MIRALDA
They do not know at home.
JOHN
Home? Home? How could they know?What have we in common with home? Rowsand rows of little houses; and if they hear anightingale there they write to the papers.And--and if they saw this they'd think theywere drunk. Miralda, don't be absurd.What has set you thinking of home?
MIRALDA
I want to be crowned queen.
JOHN
But I am not a king. I am only Shereef.
MIRALDA
You are all-powerful here, John, you can dowhat you please, if you wish to. You don'tlove me at all.
JOHN
Miralda, you know I love you. Didn'tI kill Hussein for you?
MIRALDA
Yes, but you don't love me now.
JOHN
And Hussein's people killed ARCHIE. Thatwas for you too. I brought my brother outhere to help you. He was engaged to bemarried, too.
MIRALDA
But you don't love me now.
JOHN
Yes, I do. I love you as the dawn lovesthe iris marshes. You know the song theysing. (footnote: poem just before Act III)
MIRALDA
Then why won't you marry me?
JOHN
I told you, I told you. I had a dream aboutthe future. I forgot the dream, but I knowI was not to marry. I will not wrong thefuture.
MIRALDA
Don't be crazy.
JOHN
I will have what fancies I please, crazy orsane. Am I not Shereef of Shaldomir? Whodare stop me if I would be mad as Herod?
MIRALDA
I will be crowned queen.
JOHN
It is not my wish.
MIRALDA
I will, I will, I will.
JOHN
Drive me not to anger. If I have you castinto a well and take twenty of the fairestdaughters of A1 Shaldomir in your place, whocan gainsay me?
MIRALDA
I will be crowned queen.
JOHN
O, do not be tiresome.
MIRALDA
Was it not my money that brought youhere? Was it not I who said " Kill Hussein"?What power could you have had, had Hus-sein lived? What would you have been doingnow, but for me?
JOHN
I don't know, Miralda.
MIRALDA
Catching some silly train to the City.Working for some dull firm. Living in somesmall suburban house. It is I, I, that broughtyou from all that, and you won't make me aqueen.
JOHN
Is it not enough that you are my beloved?You know there is none other but you. Isit not enough, Miralda?
MIRALDA
It is not enough. I will be queen.
JOHN
Tchah! . . . Miralda, I know you are awonderful woman, the most wonderful in theEast; how you ever came to be in the WestI don't know, and a train of all places; but,Miralda, you must not have petty whims,they don't become you.
MIRALDA
Is it a petty whim to wish to be a queen?
JOHN
Yes, when it is only the name you want.You are a queen. You have all you wish for.Are you not my beloved? And have I notpower here over all men? Could I not closethe pass?
MIRALDA
I want to be queen.
JOHN
Oh-h! I will leave you. I have more to dothan to sit and hear your whims. When Icome back you will have some other whim.Miralda, you have too many whims.
[He rises.]
MIRALDA
Will you be back soon?
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
When will you come back, John?
[She is reclining, looking fair, fanningslightly.]
JOHN
In half an hour.
MIRALDA
In half an hour?
JOHN
Yes.
[Exit.]
MIRALDA
Half an hour.
[Her fan is laid down. She clutchesit with sudden resolve. She goes to thewall, fanning herself slowly. She leansagainst it. She fans herself now withobvious deliberation. Three times thegreat fan goes pat against the window, andthen again separately three times; andthen she puts it against the window oncewith a smile of ecstasy. She has signalled.She returns to the cushions and reclineswith beautiful care, fanning herself softly.
Enter the Vizier, HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN]
HAFIZ
Lady! You bade me come.
MIRALDA
Did I, Hafiz?
HAFIZ
Lady, your fan.
MIRALDA
Ah, I was fanning myself.
HAFIZ
Seven times, lady.
MIRALDA
Ah, was it? Well, now you're here.
HAFIZ
Lady, O star of these times. O light overlonely marshes.
[He kneels by her and em-braces her.]
Is the Shereef gone, lady?
MIRALDA
For half an hour, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
How know you for half an hour?
MIRALDA
He said so.
HAFIZ
He said so? Then is the time to fear, if aman say so.
MIRALDA
I know him.
HAFIZ
In our country who knows any man somuch? None.
MIRALDA
He'll be away for half an hour.
HAFIZ
[embracing]
O, exquisite lily of unattainable mountains.
MIRALDA
Ah, Hafiz, would you do a little thing forme?
HAFIZ
I would do all things, lady, O eveningstar.
MIRANDA
Would you make me a queen, Hafiz?
HAFIZ
If--if the Shereef were gathered?
MIRALDA
Even so, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Lady, I would make you queen of all thatlies west of the passes.
MIRANDA
You would make me queen?
HAFIZ
Indeed, before all my wives, before allwomen, over all Shaldomir, named the elect.
MIRALDA
0, well, Hafiz; then you may kiss me.
[HAFIZ does so ad lib.]
Hafiz, the Shereef has irked me.
HAFIZ
Lady, O singing star, to all men is the hour.
MIRALDA
The appointed hour?
HAFIZ
Even the appointed hour, the last, leadingto darkness.
MIRALDA
Is it written, think you, that the Shereef'shour is soon?
HAFIZ
Lady, O dawn's delight, let there be a ban-quet. Let the great ones of Shaldomir bebidden there.
MIRALDA
There shall be a banquet, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Soon, O lady. Let it be soon, sole lily ofthe garden.
MIRALDA
It shall be soon, Hafiz.
[More embraces.]
HAFIZ
And above all, O lady, bid Daoud, the sonof the baker.
MIRALDA
He shall be bidden, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
O lady, it is well.
MIRALDA
Go now, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
Lady, I go
[giving a bag of gold to BAZZALOL].
Silence. Silence. Silence.
BAZZALOL
[kneeling]
O, master!
HAFIZ
Let the tomb speak; let the stars cry out;but do you be silent.
BAZZALOL
Aye, master.
HAFIZ
[to THOOTHOOBABA]
And you. Though this one speak, yet besilent, or dread the shadow of Hafiz el A1-colahn.
[He drops a bag of gold. THOOTHOO-BABA goes down and grabs at the gold;his eyes gloat over it.]
THOOTHOOBABA
Master, I speak not. Oh-h-h.
[Exit HAFIZ.
MIRALDA arranges herself on the cush-ions. She looks idly at each Nubian. TheNubians put each a finger over his lips andgo on fanning with one hand.]
MIRALDA
A queen. I shall look sweet as a queen.
[Enter JOHN. She rises to greet himcaressingly.
Enter DAOUD.]
Oh, you have brought Daoud with you.
JOHN
Why not?
MIRALDA
You know that I don't like Daoud.
JOHN
I wish to speak with him.
[MIRALDA looks straight at JOHN andmoves away in silence. Exit L.]
JOHN
Daoud.
DAOUD
Great master.
JOHN
Daoud, one day in spring, in the cemeteryof those called Blessed, beyond the city'sgates, you swore to me by the graves of bothyour parents . . . .
DAOUD
Great master, even so I swore.
JOHN
....to be true to me always.
DAOUD
There is no Shereef but my master.
JOHN
Daoud, you have kept your word.
DAOUD
I have sought to, master.
JOHN
You have helped me often, Daoud, warnedme and helped me often. Through you Iknew those currents that run through thedeeps of the market, in silence and all menfeel them, but a ruler never. You told me ofthem, and when I knew--then I could lookafter myself, Daoud. They could do nothingagainst me then. Well, now I hold thispeople. I hold them at last, Daoud, and now--well, I can rest a little.
DAOUD
Not in the East, master.
JOHN
Not in the East, Daoud?
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
Why? What do you mean?
DAOUD
In Western countries, master, whose talesI have read, in a wonderful book named the"Good Child's History of England," in theWest a man hath power over a land, and lo!the power is his and descends to his son's sonafter him.
JOHN
Well, doesn't it in the East?
DAOUD
Not if he does not watch, master; in thenight and the day, and in the twilight be-tween the day and the night, and in the dawnbetween the night and the day.
JOHN
I thought you had pretty long dynastiesin these parts, and pretty lazy ones.
DAOUD
Master, he that was mightiest of those thatwere kings in Babylon had a secret door pre-pared in an inner chamber, which led to alittle room, the smallest in the palace, whoseback door opened secretly to the river, evento great Euphrates, where a small boat waitedall the days of his reign.
JOHN
Did he really now? Well, he was taking nochances. Did he have to use it?
DAOUD
No, master. Such boats are never used.Those that watch like that do not need toseek them, and the others, they would neverbe able to reach the river in time, even thoughthe boat were there.
JOHN
I shouldn't like to have to live like that.Why, a river runs by the back of this palace.I suppose palaces usually are on rivers. I'mglad I don't have to keep a boat there.
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
Well, what is it you are worrying about?Who is it you are afraid of?
DAOUD
Hafiz el Alcolahn.
JOHN
O, Hafiz. I have no fears of Hafiz. LatelyI ordered my spies to watch him no longer.Why does he hate me?
DAOUD
Because, most excellent master, you slewHussein.
JOHN
Slew Hussein? What is that to do withhim? May I not slay whom I please?
DAOUD
Even so, master. Even so. But he wasHussein's enemy.
JOHN
His enemy, eh?
DAOUD
For years he had dreamed of the joy ofkilling Hussein.
JOHN
Well, he should have done it before I came.We don't hang over things and brood overthem for years where I come from. If athing's to be done, it's done.
DAOUD
Even so, master. Hafiz had laid his plansfor years. He would have killed him and gothis substance; and then, when the hour drewnear, you came, and Hussein died, swiftly,not as Hafiz would have had him die; andlo! thou art the lord of the pass, and Hafiz isno more than a beetle that runs about in thedirt.
JOHN
Well, so you fear Hafiz?
DAOUD
Not for himself, master. Nay, I fear notHafiz. But, master, hast thou seen when thethunder is coming, but no rumble is heardand the sky is scarce yet black, how littlewinds run in the grass and sigh and die; andthe flower beckons a moment with its head;all the world full of whispers, master, all say-ing nothing; then the lightning, master, andthe anger of God; and men say it came with-out warning?
[Simply.]
I hear those thingscoming, master.
JOHN
Well?
DAOUD
Master, it is all silent in the market. Once,when the price of turquoises was high, menabused the Shereef. When the merchant mencould not sell their pomegranates for silverthey abused the Shereef. It is men's way,master, men's way. Now it is all silent in themarket. It is like the grasses with the idlewinds, that whisper and sigh and die away;like the flowers beckoning to nothing. Andso, master, and so . . . .
JOHN
I see, you fear some danger.
DAOUD
I fear it, master.
JOHN
What danger, Daoud?
DAOUD
Master, I know not.
JOHN
From what quarter, Daoud?
DAOUD
O master, O sole Lord of Al Shaldomir,named the elect, from that quarter.
JOHN
That quarter? Why, that is the graciouslady's innermost chamber.
DAOUD
From that quarter, great master, O Lordof the Pass.
JOHN
Daoud, I have cast men into prison forsaying less than this. Men have been floggedon the feet for less than this.
DAOUD
Slay me, master, but hear my words.
JOHN
I will not slay you. You are mistaken,Daoud. You have made a great mistake.The thing is absurd. Why, the gracious ladyhas scarcely seen Hafiz. She knows nothingof the talk of the market. Who could tellher? No one comes here. It is absurd. Onlythe other day she said to me . . . But itis absurd, it is absurd, Daoud. Besides, thepeople would never rebel against me. Do Inot govern them well?
DAOUD
Even so, master.
JOHN
Why should they rebel, then?
DAOUD
They think of the old times, master.
JOHN
The old times? Why, their lives weren'tsafe. The robbers came down from the moun-tains and robbed the market whenever theyhad a mind.
DAOUD
Master, men were content in the old times.
JOHN
But were the merchants content?
DAOUD
Those that loved merchandise were con-tent, master. Those that loved it not wentinto the mountains.
JOHN
But were they content when they wererobbed?
DAOUD
They soon recovered their losses, master.Their prices were unjust and they loved usury.
JOHN
And were the people content with unjustprices?
DAOUD
Some were, master, as men have to be inall countries. The others went into the moun-tains and robbed the merchants.
JOHN
I see.
DAOUD
But now, master, a man robs a merchantand he is cast into prison. Now a man isslain in the market and his son, his own son,master, may not follow after the aggressorand slay him and burn his house. They areill-content, master. No man robs the mer-chants, no man slays them, and the mer-chants' hearts are hardened and they oppressall men.
JOHN
I see. They don't like good government?
DAOUD
They sigh for the old times, master.
JOHN
I see; I see. In spite of all I have done forthem, they want their old bad governmentback again.
DAOUD
It is the old way, master.
JOHN
Yes, yes. And so they would rebel. Well,we must watch. You have warned me onceagain, Daoud, and I am grateful. But youare wrong, Daoud, about the gracious lady.You are mistaken. It is impossible. You aremistaken, Daoud. I know it could not be.
DAOUD
I am mistaken, master. Indeed, I am mis-taken. Yet, watch. Watch, master.
JOHN
Well, I will watch.
DAOUD
And, master, if ever I come to you bearingoars, then watch no longer, master, but followme through the banquet chamber and throughthe room beyond it. Move as the wild deermove when there is danger, without pausing,without wondering, without turning round;for in that hour, master, in that hour . . . .
JOHN
Through the room beyond the banquetchamber, Daoud?
DAOUD
Aye, master, following me.
JOHN
But there is no door beyond, Daoud.
DAOUD
Master, I have prepared a door.
JOHN
A door, Daoud?
DAOUD
A door none wots of, master.
JOHN
Whither does it lead?
DAOUD
To a room that you know not of, a littleroom; you must stoop, master.
JOHN
O, and then?
DAOUD
To the river, master.
JOHN
The river! But there's no boat there.
DAOUD
Under the golden willow, master.
JOHN
A boat?
DAOUD
Even so, under the branches.
JOHN
Is it come to that? . . . No, Daoud, allthis is unnecessary. It can't come to that.
DAOUD
If ever I come before you bearing two oars,in that hour, master, it is necessary.
JOHN
But you will not come. It will never cometo that.
DAOUD
No, master.
JOHN
A wise man can stop things before theyget as far as that.
DAOUD
They that were kings in Babylon were wisemen, master.
JOHN
Babylon! But that was thousands ofyears ago.
DAOUD
Man changes not, master.
JOHN
Well, Daoud, I will trust you, and if itever comes to that . . .
[Enter MIRALDA.]
MIRALDA
I thought Daoud was gone.
DAOUD
Even now I go, gracious lady.
[Exit DAOUD. Rather strained silencewith JOHN and MIRALDA till he goes.She goes and retakes herself comfortableon the cushions. He is not entirely at ease.]
MIRALDA
You had a long talk with Daoud.
JOHN
Yes, he came and talked a good deal.
MIRALDA
What about?
JOHN
0, just talk; you know these Easternpeople.
MIRALDA
I thought it was something you were dis-cussing with him.
JOHN
O, no.
MIRALDA
Some important secret.
JOHN
No, not at all.
MIRALDA
You often talk with Daoud.
JOHN
Yes, he is useful to me. When he talkssense I listen, but to-day . . .
MIRALDA
What did he come for to-day?
JOHN
O, nothing.
MIRALDA
You have a secret with Daoud that youwill not share with me.
JOHN
No, I have not.
MIRALDA
What was it he said?
JOHN
He said there was a king in Babylon who . . .
[DAOUD slips into the room.]
MIRALDA
In Babylon? What has that to do withus?
JOHN
Nothing. I told you he was not talkingsense.
MIRALDA
Well, what did he say?
JOHN
He said that in Babylon . . .
DAOUD
Hist!
JOHN
O, well . . .
[MIRALDA glares, but calms herselfand says nothing.
Exit DAOUD.]
MIRALDA
What did Daoud say of Babylon?
JOHN
O, well, as you say, it had nothing to dowith us.
MIRALDA
But I wish to hear it.
JOHN
I forget.
[For a moment there is silence.]
MIRALDA
John, John. Will you do a little thing forme?
JOHN
What is it?
MIRALDA
Say you will do it, John. I should love tohave one of my little wishes granted.
JOHN
What is it?
MIRALDA
Kill Daoud, John. I want you to kill Daoud.
JOHN
I will not.
[He walks up and down in front of thetwo Nubians in silence. She plucks petu-lantly at a pillow. She suddenly calmsherself. A light comes into her eyes. TheNubians go on fanning. JOHN goes onpacing.]
MIRALDA
John, John, I have forgotten my foolishfancies.
JOHN
I am glad of it.
MIRALDA
I do not really wish you to kill Daoud.
JOHN
[same voice]
I'm glad you don't.
MIRALDA
I have only one fancy now, John.
JOHN
Well, what is it?
MIRALDA
Give a banquet, John. I want you to givea banquet.
JOHN
A banquet? Why?
MIRALDA
Is there any harm in my fancy?
JOHN
No.
MIRALDA
Then if I may not be a queen, and if youwill not kill Daoud for me, give a banquet,John. There is no harm in a banquet.
JOHN
Very well. When do you want it?
MIRALDA
To-morrow, John. Bid all the great onesto it, all the illustrious ones in Al Shaldomir.
JOHN
Very well.
MIRALDA
And bid Daoud come.
JOHN
Daoud? You asked me to kill him.
MIRALDA
I do not wish that any longer, John.
JOHN
You have queer moods, Miralda.
MIRALDA
May I not change my moods, John?
JOHN
I don't know. I don't understand them.
MIRALDA
And ask Hafiz el Alcolahn, John.
JOHN
Hafiz? Why?
MIRALDA
I don't know, John. It was just my fancy.
JOHN
Your fancy, eh?
MIRALDA
That was all.
JOHN
Then I will ask him. Have you any otherfancy?
MIRALDA
Not now, John.
JOHN
Then go, Miralda.
MIRALDA
Go?
JOHN
Yes.
MIRALDA
Why?
JOHN
Because I command it.
MIRALDA
Because you command it?
JOHN
Yes, I, the Shereef Al Shaldomir.
MIRALDA
Very well.
[Exit L.He walks to the door to see that she isreally gone. He comes back to centre andstands with back to audience, pulling acord quietly from his pocket and arrangingit.
He moves half left and comes up behindBAZZALOL. Suddenly he slips the cordover BAZZALOL'S head, and tightens itround his neck.]
[BAZZALOL flops on his knees.
THOOTHOOBABA goes on fanning.]
JOHN
Speak!
[BAZZALOL is silent.
JOHN tightens it more. THOOTHOOBABAgoes on quietly fanning.]
BAZZALOL
I cannot.
JOHN
If you would speak, raise your left hand.If you raise your left hand and do not speakyou shall die.
[BAZZALOL is silent. JOHN tightensmore. BAZZALOL raises his great flabbyleft hand high. JOHN releases the cord.BAZZALOL blinks and moves his mouth.]
BAZZALOL
Gracious Shereef, one visited the greatlady and gave us gold, saying, "Speak not."
JOHN
When?
BAZZALOL
Great master, one hour since.
JOHN
[a little viciously]
Who?
BAZZALOL
O heaven-sent, he was Hafiz el Alcolahn.
JOHN
Give me the gold.
[BAZZALOL gives it.]
[To THOOTHOOBABA.] Give me thegold.
THOOTHOOBABA
Master, none gave me gold.
[John touches his dagger, and looks likeusing it.
THOOTHOOBABA gives it.]
JOHN
Take back your gold. Be silent about this.You too.
[He throws gold to BAZZALOL.]
Gold does not make you silent, but there isa thing that does. What is that thing?Speak. What thing makes you silent?
BAZZALOL
O, great master, it is death.
JOHN
Death, eh? And how will you die if you speak? You know how you will die?
BAZZALOL
Yes, heaven-sent.
JOHN
Tell your comrade, then.
BAZZALOL
We shall be eaten, great master.
JOHN
You know by what?
BAZZALOL
Small things, great master, small things.Oh-h-h-h. Oh-h-h.
[THOOTHOOBABA S knees scarcely holdhim.]
JOHN
It is well.

Curtain

SCENE 2

A small street. Al Shaldomir.

Time: Next day.

[Enter L. the SHEIK OF THE BISHAR-EENS. He goes to an old green door, pointed ofcourse in the Arabic way.]

SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS
Ho, Bishareens!
[The BISHAREENS run on.]
SHEIK
It is the place and the hour.
BISHAREENS
Ah, ah!
SHEIK
[to FIRST BISHAREEN]
Watch.
[FIRST BISHAREEN goes to right andwatches up sunny street.]
FIRST BISHAREEN
He comes.
[Enter HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN. He goesstraight up to the SHEIK and whispers.]
SHEIK
[turning]
Hear, O Bishareens.
[HAFIZ places flute to his lips.]
A BISHAREEN
And the gold, master?
SHEIK
Silence! It is the signal.
[HAFIZ plays a weird, strange tune onhis flute.]
HAFIZ
So.
SHEIK
Master, once more.
[HAFIZ raises the flute again to his lips.]
SHEIK
Hear, O Bishareens!
[He plays the brief tune again.]
HAFIZ
[to SHEIK]
Like that.
SHEIK
We have heard, O master.
[He walks away L. Hands move inthe direction of knife-hilts.]
THE BISHAREENS
Ah, ah!
[Exit HAFIZ.
He plays a merry little tune on hisflute as he walks away.]

Curtain

SCENE 3

The banqueting hall. A table along theback. JOHN and MIRALDA seated withnotables of Al Shaldomir.

JOHN sits in the centre, with MIRALDAon his right and, next to her, HAFIZ EL ALCOLAHN.

MIRALDA
[to JOHN]
You bade Daoud be present?
JOHN
Yes.
MIRALDA
He is not here.
JOHN
Daoud not here?
MIRALDA
No.
JOHN
Why?
MIRALDA
We all obey you, but not Daoud.
JOHN
I do not understand it.
A NOTABLE
The Shereef has frowned.
[Enter R. an OFFICER-AT-ARMS. Hehalts at once and salutes with his sword,then takes a side pace to his left, standingagainst the wall, sword at the carry.
JOHN acknowledges salute by touchinghis forehead with the inner tips of hisfingers.]
OFFICER-AT-ARMS
Soldiers of Al Shaldomir; with the dance-step; march.
[Enter R. some men in single file;uniform, pale green silks; swords at carry.They advance in single file, in a slightlyserpentine way, deviating to their left alittle out of the straight and returning to it,stepping neatly on the tips of their toes.Their march is fantastic and odd withoutbeing exactly funny.
The OFFICER-AT-ARMS falls in on their left flank and marches about level with the third or fourth man. When he reaches the centre he gives another word of command.]
OFFICER-AT-ARMS
With reverence: Salute.
[The actor who takes this part shouldhave been an officer or N. C. O.
JOHN stands up and acknowledges theirsalute by touching his forehead with thefingers of the right hand, palm turnedinwards.
Exeunt soldiers L. JOHN sits down.]
A NOTABLE
He does not smile this evening.
A WOMAN
The Shereef?
NOTABLE
He has not smiled.
[Enter R. ZABNOOL, a CONJURER, withbrass bowl. He bows. He walks to centreopposite JOHN. He exhibits his bowl.]
ZABNOOL
Behold. The bowl is empty.
[ZABNOOL produces a snake.]
ZABNOOL
Ah, little servant of Death.
[He produces flowers.]
Flowers, master, flowers. All the way fromNowhere.
[He produces birds.]
Birds, master. Birds from Nowhere.Sing, sing to the Shereef. Sing the littleempty songs of the land of Nowhere.
[He seats himself on the ground facingJOHN. He puts the bowl on the ground.He places a piece of silk, with queer de-signs on it over the bowl. He partlydraws the silk away with his left hand andputs in his right. He brings out a youngcrocodile and holds it by the neck.]
CONJURER
Behold, O Shereef; O people, behold; acrocodile.
[He arises and bows to JOHN and wrapsup the crocodile in some drapery and walksaway. As he goes he addresses his croco-dile.]
O eater of lambs, O troubler of the rivers,you sought to evade me in an empty bowl.O thief, O appetite, you sought to evade theShereef. The Shereef has seen you, O vexerof swimmers, O pig in armour, O . . .
[Exit.SHABEESH, another CONJURER, rusheson.]
SHABEESH
Bad man, master; he very, very bad man.
[He pushes ZABNOOL away roughly, im-petus of which carries ZABNOOL to thewings.]
Very, very bad man, master.
MIRALDA
[reprovingly]
Zabnool has amused us.
SHABEESH
He very, very bad man, lily lady. He getcrocodile from devil. From devil Poolyana,lily lady. Very, very bad.
MIRALDA
He may call on devils if he amuse us,Shabeesh.
SHABEESH
But Poolyana, my devil. He call on mydevil, lily lady. Very, very, very bad. Mydevil Poolyana.
MIRALDA
Call on him yourself, Shabeesh. Amuseus.
SHABEESH
Shall one devil serve two masters?
MIRALDA
Why not?
SHABEESH
[beginning to wave priestly conjurer'shands]
Very bad man go away. Go away, badman: go away, bad man. Poolyana not wantbad man: Poolyana only work for good man.He mighty fine devil. Poolyana, Poolyana.Big, black, fine, furry devil. Poolyana, Pool-yana, Poolyana. O fine, fat devil with bigangry tail. Poolyana, Poolyana, Poolyana.Send me up fine young pig for the Shereef.Poolyana, Poolyana. Lil yellow pig withcurly tail.
[Small pig appears.]
O Pooly-ana, great Poolyana. Fine black fur andgrey fur underneath. Fine ferocious devilyou my devil, Poolyana. O, Poolyana, Pooly-ana, Poolyana. Send me a big beast whatchew bad man's crocodile. Big beast withbig teeth, eat him like a worm.
[He has spread large silk handkerchiefon floor and is edging back from it inalarm.]
Long nails in him toes, big like lion,Poolyana. Send great smelly big beast--eatup bad man's crocodile.
[At first stir of handkerchief SHABEESHleaps in alarm.]
He come, he come. I see his teeth andhorns.
[Enter small live rabbit from trapdoorunder handkerchief.]
O, Poolyana, you big devil have your liddlejoke. You laugh at poor conjuring man.You send him lil rabbit to eat big crocodile.Bad Poolyana. Bad Poolyana.
[Whacks ground with stick.]
You plenty bad devil, Poolyana.
[Whacking it again. Handkerchief hasbeen thrown on ground again. Handker-chief stirs slightly.]
No, no, Poolyana. You not bad devil.You not bad devil. You plenty good devil,Poolyana. No, no, no! Poor conjuring manquite happy on muddy earth. NO, Poolyana,no! O. no, no, devil. O. no, no! Hell plentynice place for devil. Master! He not mydevil! He other man's devil!
JOHN
What's this noise? What's it about?
What's the matter?
SHABEESH
[in utmost terror]
He coming, master! Coming!
ZABNOOL
Poolyana, Poolyana, Poolyana. Staydown, stay down, Poolyana. Stay down innice warm hell, Poolyana. The Shereef wantno devil to-day.
[ZABNOOL before speaking returns tocentre and pats air over ground wherehandkerchief lies.
Then SHABEESH and ZABNOOE cometogether side by side and bow and smiletogether toward the SHEREEF. Gold isthrown to them, which ZABNOOL gathersand hands to SHABEESH, who gives a shareback to ZABNOOL.]
A NOTABLE
The Shereef is silent.
[Enter three women R. in single file,dancing, and carrying baskets full of pinkrose-leaves. They dance across, throwingdown rose-leaves, leaving a path of thembehind them. Exeunt L.]
A NOTABLE
Still he is silent.
MIRALDA
Why do you not speak?
JOHN
I do not wish to speak.
MIRALDA
Why?
[Enter OMAR with his zither.]
OMAR
[singing]
A1 Shaldomir, A1 Shaldomir,
Birds sing thy praises night and day;
The nightingale in every wood,
Blackbirds in fields profound with may;
Birds sing of thee by every way.

A1 Shaldomir, A1 Shaldomir,

My heart is ringing with thee still
Though far away, O fairy fields,
My soul flies low by every hill
And misses not one daffodil.

A1 Shaldomir, A1 Shaldomir,

O mother of my roving dreams
Blue is the night above thy spires
And blue by myriads of streams
Paradise through thy gateway gleams.

MIRALDA
Why do you not wish to speak?
JOHN
You desire me to speak?
MIRALDA
No. They all wonder why you do notspeak; that is all.
JOHN
I will speak. They shall hear me.
MIRALDA
O, there is no need to.
JOHN
There is a need.
[He rises.]
People ofShaldomir, behold I know your plottings.I know the murmurings that you murmuragainst me. When I sleep in my inner cham-ber my ear is in the market, while I sit atmeat I hear men whisper far hence and knowtheir innermost thoughts. Hope not to over-come me by your plans nor by any manner ofcraftiness. My gods are gods of brass; nonehave escaped them. They cannot be over-thrown. Of all men they favour my people.Their hands reach out to the uttermost endsof the earth. Take heed, for my gods areterrible. I am the Shereef; if any dare with-stand me I will call on my gods and they shallcrush him utterly. They shall grind him intothe earth and trample him under, as thoughhe had not been. The uttermost parts havefeared the gods of the English. They reachout, they destroy, there is no escape fromthem. Be warned; for I do not permit anyto stand against me. The laws that I havegiven you, you shall keep; there shall be noother laws. Whoso murmurs shall know mywrath and the wrath of my gods. Take heed,I speak not twice. I spoke once to Hussein.Hussein heard not; and Hussein is dead, hisears are closed for ever. Hear, O people.
HAFIZ
O Shereef, we murmur not against you.
JOHN
I know thoughts and hear whispers. Ineed not instruction, Hafiz.
HAFIZ
You exalt yourself over us as none didaforetime.
JOHN
Yes. And I will exalt myself. I have beenShereef hitherto, but now I will be king. AlShaldomir is less than I desire. I have ruledtoo long over a little country. I will be theequal of Persia. I will be king; I proclaim it.The pass is mine; the mountains shall bemine also. And he that rules the mountainshas mastery over all the plains beyond. Ifthe men of the plains will not own it let themmake ready; for my wrath will fall on themin the hour when they think me afar, on anight when they think I dream. I proclaimmyself king over . . .
[HAFIZ pulls out his flute and plays theweird, strange tune. JOHN looks at him inhorrified anger.]
JOHN
The penalty is death! Death is the punish-ment for what you do, Hafiz. You havedared while I spoke. Hafiz, your contempt isdeath. Go to Hussein. I, the king . . .say it.
[DAOUD has entered R., bearing twooars. DAOUD walks across, not lookingat JOHN. Exit by small door in L. nearback.
JOHN gives one look at the banqueters,then he follows DAOUD. Exit.
All look astonished. Some rise andpeer. HAFIZ draws his knife.]
OMAR
[singing]
A1 Shaldomir, A1 Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways
Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise,
CRIES
[off]
Kill the unbeliever. Kill the dog. Kill theChristian.
[Enter the SHEIK OF THE BISHAREENS,followed by all his men.]
SHEIK
We are the Bishareens, master.
[MIRALDA standing up, right arm akim-bo, left arm pointing perfectly straight outtowards the small door, hand extended.]
MIRALDA
He is there.
[The BISHAREENS run off through thelittle door.]
A NOTABLE
Not to interfere with old ways is wisest.
ANOTHER
Indeed, it would have been well for him.
[The BISHAREENS begin to return look-ing all about them like disappointedhounds.]
A BISHAREEN
He is not there, master.
HAFIZ
Not there? Not there? Why, there is nodoor beyond. He must needs be there, andhis chief spy with him.
SHEIK
[off]
He is not here.
MIRALDA
[turning round and clawing the wall]
O, I was weary of him. I was weary of him.
HAFIZ
Be comforted, pearl of the morning; he isgone.
MIRALDA
When I am weary of a man he must die.
[He embraces her knees.]
ZAGBOOLA
[who has come on with a little crowdthat followed the BISHAREENS. She isblind.]
Lead me to Hafiz. I am the mother ofHafiz. Lead me to Hafiz.
[They lead hernear.]
Hafiz! Hafiz!
[She finds his shoulder and tries to draghim away.]
HAFIZ
Go! Go! I have found the sole pearl ofthe innermost deeps of the sea.
[He is kneeling and kissing MIRALDA'shand. ZAGBOOLA wails.]

Curtain

ACT IV

SCENE I

Three years elapse.

Scene: The street outside the Acacias.

Time: Evening.[Ali leans on a pillar-box watching.John shuffles on L. He is miserablydressed, an Englishman down on his luck.A nightingale sings far off.]

JOHN
A nightingale here. Well, I never.
Al Shaldomir, Al Shaldomir,
The nightingales that guard thy ways
Cease not to give thee, after God
And after Paradise, all praise. . .

The infernal place! I wish I had neverseen it! Wonder what set me thinking ofthat?

[The nightingale sings another bar.JOHN turns to his left and walks down thelittle path that leads to the door of theAcacias.]
I mustn't come here. Mustn't come to afine house like this. Mustn't. Mustn't.
[He draws near it reluctantly. He putshis hand to the bell and withdraws it.Then he rings and snatches his hand away.He prepares to run away. Finally he ringsit repeatedly, feverishly, violently.
Enter LIZA, opening the door.]
LIZA
Ullo, 'Oo's this!
JOHN
I oughtn't to have rung, miss, I know. Ioughtn't to have rung your bell; but I'veseen better days, and wondered if--I won-dered . . .
LIZA
I oughtn't to 'ave opened the door, that'swot I oughtn't. Now I look at you, Ioughtn't to 'ave opened it. Wot does youwant?
JOHN
O, don't turn me away now, miss. I mustcome here. I must.
LIZA
Must? Why?
JOHN
I don't know.
LIZA
Wot do you want?
JOHN
Who lives here?
LIZA
Mr. and Mrs. Cater; firm of Briggs, Cater,and Johnstone. What do you want?
JOHN
Could I see Mr. Cater?
LIZA
He's out. Dining at the Mansion House.
JOHN
Oh.
LIZA
He is.
JOHN
Could I see Mrs. Cater?
LIZA
See Mrs. Cater? No, of course youcouldn't.
[She prepares to shut the door.]
JOHN
Miss! Miss! Don't go, miss. Don't shutme out. If you knew what I'd suffered, ifyou knew what I'd suffered. Don't!
LIZA
[coming forward again]
Suffered? Why? Ain't you got enough toeat?
JOHN
No, I've had nothing all day.
LIZA
'Aven't you really now?
JOHN
No. And I get little enough at any time.
LIZA
[kindly]
You ought to work.
JOHN
I . . . I can't. I can't bring myself . . .
I've seen better times.
LIZA
Still, you could work.
JOHN
I--I can't grub for halfpennies when I've--when I've . . .
LIZA
When you've what?
JOHN
Lost millions.
LIZA
Millions?
JOHN
I've lost everything.
LIZA
'Ow did you lose it?
JOHN
Through being blind. But never mind,never mind. It's all gone now, and I'mhungry.
LIZA
'Ow long 'ave you been down on your luck?
JOHN
It's three years now.
LIZA
Couldn't get a regular job, like?
JOHN
Well, I suppose I might have. I supposeit's my fault, miss. But the heart was out ofme.
LIZA
Dear me, now.
JOHN
Miss.
LIZA
Yes?
JOHN
You've a kind face . . .
LIZA
'Ave I?
JOHN
Yes. Would you do me a kind turn?
LIZA
Well, I dunno. I might, as yer so downon yer luck--I don't like to see a man likeyou are, I must say.
JOHN
Would you let me come into the big houseand speak to the missus a moment?
LIZA
She'd row me awful if I did. This house isvery respectable.
JOHN
I feel, if you would, I feel, I feel my luckmight change.
LIZA
But I don't know what she'd say if I did.
JOHN
Miss, I must.
LIZA
I don't know wot she'd say.
JOHN
I must come in, miss, I must.
LIZA
I don't know what she'll say.
JOHN
I must. I can't help myself.
LIZA
I don't know what she'll . . .
[JOHN is in, door shuts.]
[ALI throws his head up and laughs,but quite silently.]

Curtain

SCENE 2

The drawing-room at the Acacias.

A moment later.

The scene is the same as in Act I, exceptthat the sofa which was red is now green,and the photograph of Aunt Martha isreplaced by that of a frowning old colonel.The ages of the four children in the photo-graphs are the same, but their sexes havechanged.

[MARY reading. Enter LIZA.]

LIZA
There's a gentleman to see you, mum,which is, properly speaking, not a gentlemanat all, but 'e would come in, mum.
MARY
Not a gentleman! Good gracious, Liza,vhatever do you mean?
LIZA
'E would come in, mum.
MARY
But what does he want?
LIZA
[over shoulder]
What does you want?
JOHN
[entering]
I am a beggar.
MARY
O, really? You've no right to be cominginto houses like this, you know.
JOHN
I know that, madam, I know that. Yetsomehow I couldn't help myself. I've beenbegging for nearly three years now, and I'venever done this before, yet somehow to-nightI felt impelled to come to this house. I begyour pardon, humbly. Hunger drove me toit.
MARY
Hunger?
JOHN
I'm very hungry, madam.
MARY
Unfortunately Mr. Cater has not yet re-turned, or perhaps he might . . .
JOHN
If you could give me a little to eat your-self, madam, a bit of stale bread, a crust,something that Mr. Cater would not want.
MARY
It's very unusual, coming into a house likethis and at such an hour--it's past eleveno'clock--and Mr. Cater not yet returned. Are you really hungry?
JOHN
I'm very, very hungry.
MARY
Well, it's very unusual; but perhaps Imight get you a little something.
[She picks up an empty plate from thesupper table.]
JOHN
Madam, I do not know how to thank you.
MARY
O, don't mention it.
JOHN
I have not met such kindness for threeyears. I . . . I'm starving. I've knownbetter times.
MARY
[kindly]
I'll get you something. You've knownbetter times, you say?
JOHN
I had been intended for work in the City.And then, then I travelled, and--and I gotvery much taken with foreign countries, andI thought--but it all went to pieces. I losteverything. Here I am, starving.
MARY
[as one might reply to the Mayoress whohad lost her gloves]
O, I'm so sorry.
[JOHN sighs deeply.]
MARY
I'll get a nice bit of something to eat.
JOHN
A thousand thanks to you, madam.
[Exit MARY with the plate.]
LIZA
[who has been standing near the door all thetime]
Well, she's going to get you something.
JOHN
Heaven reward her.
LIZA
Hungry as all that?
JOHN
I'm on my beam ends.
LIZA
Cheer up!
JOHN
That's all very well to say, living in a finehouse, as you are, dry and warm and well-fed.But what have I to cheer up about?
LIZA
Isn't there anything you could pop?
JOHN
What?
LIZA
Nothing you can take to the pawn-shop?I've tided over times I wanted a bit of cashthat way sometimes.
JOHN
What could I pawn?
LIZA
Well, well you've a watch-chain.
JOHN
A bit of old leather.
LIZA
But what about the watch?
JOHN
I've no watch.
LIZA
0, funny having a watch-chain then.
JOHN
0, that's only for this; it's a bit of crystal.
LIZA
Funny bit of a thing. What's it for?
JOHN
I don't know.
LIZA
Was it give to you?
JOHN
I don't know. I don't know how I got it.
LIZA
Don't know how you got it?
JOHN
No, I can't remember at all. But I've afeeling about it, I can't explain what I feel;but I don't part with it.
LIZA
Don't you? You might get something onit, likely and have a square meal.
JOHN
I won't part with it.
LIZA
Why?
JOHN
I feel I won't. I never have.
LIZA
Feel you won't?
JOHN
Yes, I have that feeling very strongly.I've kept it always. Everything else is gone.
LIZA
Had it long?
JOHN
Yes, yes. About ten years. I found I hadit one morning in a train. It's odd that Ican't remember.
LIZA
But wot d'yer keep it for?
JOHN
Just for luck.
[LIZA breaks into laughter.]
LIZA
Well, you are funny.
JOHN
I'm on my beam ends. I don't know if that is funny.
LIZA
You're as down in your luck as ever youcan be, and you go keeping a thing like thatfor luck. Why, you couldn't be funnier.
JOHN
Well, what would you do?
LIZA
Why, I 'ad a mascot once, all real gold; andI had rotten luck. Rotten luck I had.Rotten.
JOHN
And what did you do?
LIZA
Took it back to the shop.
JOHN
Yes?
LIZA
They was quite obliging about it. Gaveme a wooden one instead, what was guaran-teed. Luck changed very soon altogether.
JOHN
Could luck like mine change?
LIZA
Course it could.
JOHN
Look at me.
LIZA
You'll be all right one of these days. Giveme that mascot.
JOHN
I--I hardly like to. One has an awfullystrong feeling with it.
LIZA
Give it to me. It's no good.
JOHN
I--I don't like to.
LIZA
You just give it to me. I tell you it's doingyou no good. I know all about them mascots.Give it me.
JOHN
Well, I'll give it you. You're thefirst woman that's been kind to me since
. . . I'm on my beam ends.
[Face in hands--tears.]
LIZA
There, there. I'm going to smash it, I am.These mascots! One's better without 'em.Your luck'll turn, never fear. And you've anice supper coming.
[She puts it in a corner of the mantel-piece and hammers it. It smashes.
The photographs of the four childrenchange slightly. The Colonel gives placeto Aunt Martha. The green sofa turns red.JOHN'S clothes become neat and tidy. Thehammer in LIZA's hand turns to a featherduster. Nothing else changes.]
A VOICE
[off, in agony]
Allah! Allah ! Allah!
LIZA
Some foreign gentleman must have hurt himself.
JOHN
H'm. Sounds like it . . . Liza.
[LIZA, dusting the photographs on thewall, just behind the corner of the mantel-piece.]
LIZA
Funny. Thought I--thought I 'ad a ham-mer in my hand.
JOHN
Really, Liza, I often think you have. Youreally should be more careful. Only--onlyyesterday you broke the glass of Miss Jane'sphotograph.
LIZA
Thought it was a hammer.
JOHN
Really, I think it sometimes is. It's amistake you make too often, Liza. You--you must be more careful.
LIZA
Very well, sir. Funny my thinking I 'adan 'ammer in my 'and, though.
[She goes to tidy the little supper table.Enter MARY with food on a plate.]
MARY
I've brought you your supper, John.
JOHN
Thanks, Mary. I-I think I must havetaken a nap.
MARY
Did you, dear? Thanks, Liza. Run alongto bed now, Liza. Good gracious, it's half-past eleven.
[MARY makes final arrangements ofsupper table.]
LIZA
Thank you, mum.
[Exit ]
JOHN
Mary.
MARY
Yes, John.
JOHN
I--I thought I'd caught that train.

Curtain

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