Volume I Part 42 (1/2)
”Comes this way one a friend Of mine, and leaves his slippers at my door, Why then, 'tis his.”
”And whose the hills that look Upon the plain?”
”My flocks go there at morn, And thence they come at night--I take my right Of Allah.”
”No,” the stranger mildly said, ”'Twas Allah made them mine.”
Frowned Ertoghrul, While darkened all the air; but from his side Full pleasantly the stranger took a sword, Its carven hilt one royal emerald, Its blade both sides with legends overwrought, Some from the Koran, some from Solomon, All by the cunning Eastern maker burned Into the azure steel-his sword he took, And held it, belt, and scabbard too, in sign Of gift.
”The herds, the plain, the hills were mine; But take thou them, and with them this in proof Of t.i.tle.”
Lifted Ertoghrul his brows, And opened wide his eyes.
”Now who art thou?”
He asked in turn.
”Oh, I am Alaeddin-- Sometimes they call me Alaeddin the Great.”
”I take thy gifts--the herds, the plain, the hills,”
Said Ertoghrul; ”and so I take the sword; But none the less, if comes a need, 'tis thine.
Let others call thee Alaeddin the Great; To me and mine thou'rt Alaeddin the Good And Great.”
With that, he kissed the good King's hand; And making merry, to the Sheik's dowar They rode. And thus from nothing came the small; And now the lonely vale which erst ye knew, And scorned, because it nursed the mountain's feet, Doth cradle mornings on the mountain's top.
_Mishallah!_
The quiet which held the company through the recitation endured a s.p.a.ce afterwards, and--if the expression be allowed--was in itself a commentary upon the performance.
”Where is our worthy Professor of Rhetoric?” asked Constantine.
”Here, Your Majesty,” answered the man of learning, rising.
”Canst thou not give us a lecture upon the story with which thy Arabian brother hath favored us?”
”Nay, sire, criticism, to deal justly, waiteth until the blood is cool.
If the Sheik will honor me with a copy of his lines, I will scan and measure them by the rules descended to us from Homer, and his Attic successors.”
The eyes of the Emperor fell next upon the moody, discontented face of Duke Notaras.
”My lord Admiral, what sayest thou of the tale?”
”Of the tale, nothing; of the story-teller--I think him an insolent, and had I my way, Your Majesty, he should have a plunge in the Bosphorus.”
Presuming the Sheik unfamiliar with Latin, the Duke couched his reply in that tongue; yet the former raised his head, and looked at the speaker, his eyes glittering with intelligence--and the day came, and soon, when the utterance was relentlessly punished.
”I do not agree with you, my Lord,” Constantine said, in a melancholy tone. ”Our fathers, whether we look for them on the Roman or the Greek side, might have played the part of Ertoghrul. His was the spirit of conquest. Would we had enough of it left to get back our own!--Sheik,”
he added, ”what else hast thou in the same strain? I have yet a little time to spare--though it shall be as our hostess saith.”
”Nay,” she answered, with deference, ”there is but one will here.”
And taking a.s.sent from her, the Sheik began anew.