Act Five
Bassora and Bagdad.
SCENE I
A room in Almuene's house.
Almuene, Farced.
FAREED
You'll give me money, dad ?
ALMUENE
You spend too much.
We'll talk of it another time. Now leave me.
FAREED
You'll give me money ?
ALMUENE
Go; I'm out of temper.
FAREED
(dancing round him)
Give money, money, money, give me money.
ALMUENE
You boil, do you too grow upon me ? There,
(strikes him.)
FAREED
You have struck me!
ALMUENE
Why, you would have it. Go.
You shall have money.
FAREED
How much?
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ALMUENE
Quite half your asking.
Send me a cup of water.
FAREED
Oh yes, I'll send it.
You'll strike me then ?
Exit.
ALMUENE
Young Nureddene's evasion
Troubles me at the heart; it will not dislodge.
And Murad too walks closely with the King,
Who whispers to him, whispers, whispers. What?
Is't of my ruin ? No, he needs me yet.
And Ibn Sawy's coming soon. But there
I've triumphed. He will have a meagre profit
Of his long work in Roum, — the headsman's axe.
Enter a slave with a cup of water.
Here set it down and wait. 'Tis not so bad.
I'll have their Doonya yet for my Fareed.
Enter Khatoon, dragging in Fareed.
KHATOON
He has not drunk it yet.
FAREED
Why do you drag me,
You naughty woman ? I will bite your fingers.
KHATOON
O imp of Hell! Touch not the water, Vizier.
ALMUENE
What's this?
KHATOON
This brat whose soul you've disproportioned
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Out of all nature, turns upon you now.
There's poison in that cup.
ALMUENE
Unnatural mother,
What is this hatred that thou hast, to slander
The issue of thy womb ?
FAREED
She hates me, dad.
Drink off the cup to show her how you love me.
KHATOON
What, art thou weary of thy life ? Give rather
The water to a dog and see.
ALMUENE
Go, slave,
And make some negro drink it off. (Exit slave). Woman,
What I have promised often, thou shalt have, —
The scourge.
KHATOON
That were indeed my right reward
For saving such a life as thine. Oh, God
Will punish me for it.
ALMUENE
Thou tongue! I'll strike thee.
As he lifts his hand the slave returns.
SLAVE
Oh, sir, almost before it touched his throat,
He fell in fierce convulsions. He is dead.
ALMUENE
Fareed!
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FAREED
You'll strike me, will you ? You'll give half
My askings, no ? I wish you'd drunk it off;
I'ld have rare spendings!
He runs out.
ALMUENE
God!
KHATOON
Will you not scourge me ?
ALMUENE
Leave me.
Exit Khatoon.
What is this horrible surprise,
Beneath whose shock I stagger ? Is my term
Exhausted ? But I would have done as much,
Had I been struck. It is his gallant spirit,
His lusty blood that will not bear a blow.
I must appease him. If my own blood should end me!
He shall have money, all that he can ask.
Exit.
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