SCENE IV

ISHMAEL. The foregoing.

ISHMAEL (Enters weeping from the city). Oh, my friend! Now he is dead. My Prince is dead! Accursed headsman's axe, Why hast thou severed not this neck of mine? (Breaks out into despairing weeping.) BARAK. But why didst thou not hinder him in time, My friend? ISHMAEL. Dost thou on all my misery Heap reprimands, Hassan! I have done my duty To the uttermost. I might, indeed, have summoned His father hither, if there had been time; But there was not. BARAK. Be calm, my friend, be calm. ISHMAEL. Calm? I be calm? Like arrows stinging sharp The last words that he spoke stick in my breast: "Weep not," he said, "for I am glad to die, Since I may not possess her. Bear my greeting Unto my father. May he pardon me That when I fared I took no leave of him. Tell him it was for fear lest his denial Should force my disobedience. And show him This picture. (Draws a picture from the folds of his robe.) When he sees such loveliness, He will forgive, and weep my fate with thee." Thus speaking, my dear Prince a hundred times Kissed the accursed picture, and then bowed His neck to the stroke. Blood spurts on high. The trunk Quivers, and falls. High in the headsman's hands The head I love. Blind, dazed with pain I flee.... (Hurls the picture to the ground and tramples on it.) Thou devilish, accursed witchery! I tread thee in the dust, thou spawn of Hell! And O that I could trample with these feet The witch herself! Haha! I was to take thee Unto his father, unto Samarkand? I fancy That Samarkand will never see me more. (Exit in desperation.)