Complete Fictional Works of Washington Irving (Illustrated)
Page 225
Faith, you move even me! Well, and what answer made she?
Fatima
Why — after a long pause of silent sympathy the Sultana tried all she could to console me for my loss.
Abu Hassan
Ah! You see what a treasure you have in me. — How others know my value, though you don’t! Well, the good Sultana, bless her soul, did her best to console thee.
Fatima
She did indeed. My own Fatima, said she, thou hast lost one of the merriest of men.
Abu Hassan
Ah! dear, good Sultana!
Fatima
But then, added she, his jokes were growing sadly stale.
Abu Hassan
Hm! — hm!
Fatima
No man could be more generous than he!
Abu Hassan
The good Zobeide!
Fatima
For he squandered away even more than belonged to him.
Abu Hassan
Pshaw!
Fatima
He was of a loving disposition.
Abu Hassan
Did I not tell thee so?
Fatima
For, said she, he made love to every woman he met with!
Abu Hassan
Nay, nay — that’s scandal!
Fatima
Take him for all in all, my dear Fatima, said she, he was such a man as thou wilt not readily meet with again.
Abu Hassan
By the prophet, but the Sultana was in the right after all!
Fatima
But, said she, thou mayst meet with a better man any day in the week!
Abu Hassan
Out upon thee! — baggage! This is all thy own joking. The Sultana is a woman of too great discernment to make such a speech. But come, it is my turn to play the mourner, though I doubt whether the Caliph will think my loss worthy of such a heavy purse-full of consolation as the Sultana has given thee.
Fatima
Perhaps not, though thy loss is ten times heavier than mine. But thou wilt display so little grief on the event that the Caliph will be more apt to censure thy indifference than to console thy affliction.
Abu Hassan
Let me alone for weeping and whining. — Where’s the widower who could not weep to some tune, when he were to win by it a heavy purse and a piece of brocade? It is thy business therefore to die, and mine to cry — so have at it.
Fatima
Well, well — this is all well enough in jest, but Allah preserve us, dear Hassan, from shedding any tears in earnest.
Abu Hassan
Never, my dearest little wife; our griefs shall all be imaginary — our pleasures only real — I have a stock of loving good-humour in my heart that shall bear us up, let times go as they may. If thou dost shed a tear, my girl, it shall only be for a moment to give a brighter gleam to thy eye and freshen the roses on thy cheek.
Fatima
Truly, you are a tender husband! And I wish that I had back again all the tears that I have shed; so little were they caused by grief, and so well have they been paid.
DUETTO
Abu Hassan
Never shalt thou sigh and languish,
Thou belov’d and faithful heart,
But this breast shall share thy anguish,
Seeking comfort to impart.
Fatima
Tears, love, are like dew from heaven
Under which affection blooms,
And the guardians of the flowers —
Faithfulness and constancy.
But come, don’t let us waste any more time with singing and toying. The Caliph must hear the news of my death from you before he learns of yours from Zobeide.
Abu Hassan
Well, I’m off; but I must take care not to appear too miserable, that I may act my part naturally.
Fatima
Away, you, with your saucy jokes!
(Exeunt severally)
ACT II, SCENE I
Fatima
(Alone)
I would that Hassan were returned — I am impatient to learn what success he had with the Caliph. Well, heaven be praised that the man is not really dead. They call it gaining one’s liberty to lose one’s husband, and yet a widow is expected to shed whole rivers of tears.
ARIA
The nightingale ne’er grieves her
When from her cage set free
Once more among the blossoms
She sports from tree to tree.
One glance towards the window
Where her late prison hangs,
Then loud she pours her rapture
And fills the grove with joy.
She flaps her little pinions
And far aloft doth soar
Through heav’n’s unclouded regions,
Glad to be free once more.
But, Abu Hassan, without thee
No pleasure have I ever;
Thou dearest, thou inspirest me;
From thee I’d never sever.
I feel myself most blest and free
When in thy gentle power,
And in this tender slavery
I’d spend my latest hour.
Omar
(Enters through the centre door — looks cautiously round and advances when he finds Fatima is alone)
Excuse me, beautiful Fatima — I am looking for your husband.
Fatima
He’s gone to the Caliph.
Omar
Ah well, I’ll take some other opportunity to speak with him. — (Pretending to be going).
Fatima
As you please.
Omar
(Turning back)
I would not wish to disturb you.
Fatima
You are too good!
Omar
Then I have nothing to expect from your lips but cruelties?
Fatima
You know me but little, Omar — I would not intentionally grieve anyone.
Omar
Did I not say so to myself, when Zebia brought back your answer to me. — No, said I to myself, she can’t mean that in earnest. The expression about the old goat and about complaining to Zobeide, then, were only figurative. He-he-he! Egad, I guessed as much!
Fatima
You have read my very soul.
Omar
Aye, aye, I can read.
Fatima
(Significantly )
And write.
Omar
And reckon.
Fatima
But have you never reckoned without your host?
Omar
No! No! I examine and re-examine all carefully.
Fatima
My husband, unluckily, has not so much forethought.
Omar
Ah! I have often pitied you in silence on that account.
Fatima
He squanders everything away.
Omar
Blindly.
Fatima
If he has any money —
Omar
Away it must go!
Fatima
If he has none —
Omar
He borrows.
Fatima
He eats!
Omar
Drinks!
Fatima
Gives away!
Omar
Squanders!
Fatima
What is left to me at last?
Omar
Nothing!
Fatima
Debts! It makes my heart ache when I think of the crowd of our creditors.
Omar
The crowd is dispersed, fair Fatima. — One only remains — but not a hostile, hard-hearted one.
Fatima
Explain yourself more clearly.
Omar
(Draws a pacquet of papers out of his bosom) Mark this mighty mass of papers —
Bills of tailors, butchers, bakers, Pastry cooks and mantau-makers, —
All these papers now are mine.
; Fatima
Ah, thou givest me the vapours!
Will our fate then never brighten, — Seek no more my soul to frighten, Saying all these bills are thine.
Omar
Pluck up heart!
Fatima
I will endeavour!
Omar
Do you love me?
Fatima
I’ll hate thee never!
Omar
Speak out, pray!
Fatima
Trust not to show —
Omar
Speak thy mind!
Fatima
(Pretending embarrassment)
No — yes — no! — no!
(Aside) — See how joy his visage flushes - Sure he thinks I am his prize.
(To Omar) — Ah, kind Sir, pray spare my blushes —
Read my answer in my eyes.
Omar
(Aside) — Zounds! how joy my visage flushes!
Sure the ninny is my prize.
(To Fatima) — Ah, how lovely are thy blushes; Thou’rt the idol of mine eyes.
Thou
lov’st me! Thou lov’st me! You love me, you love me, my treasure!
Fatima
I love thee? I love thee? Nay! Nay! Omar Oh give me a foretaste of pleasure, A morsel of pleasure today.
Fatima
I know not — I am so embarrassed.
I cannot —
Omar
Oh take my advice —
A kiss when with love one is harassed Puts all things to rights in a trice.
Fatima
And think’st thou I then would be better?
Omar
Very surely thou couldst not be worse. — Thy cash and thy credit all gone, How canst thou these papers manage?
Fatima
These papers?
Omar
(Lays them on the table)
They are all discharged.
Fatima
and Omar Fatima (aside) — Oh how joy his visage flushes! Omar (aside) — Oh how joy my visage flushes! Fatima (aside) — Sure he thinks I am his prey. Omar (aside) — Sure the ninny is my prey. Fatima (aside) — Doting fool! — these scornful blushes Speak how much I thee despise!
Omar
Pretty dear, how sweet thy blushes, — Thou’rt the idol of these eyes.
Fatima
(Looking through the window to the left) Oh dreadful!
Omar
What is it?
Fatima
We are both ruined!
Omar
Say, what is it?
Fatima
My husband!
Omar
Help! Allah! — Oh get me off!
Fatima
For flying ’tis now too late —
Quick — in this cabinet!
(Omar hurries into the cabinet, right hand. — Fatima locks the door on him and takes out the key)
Fatima
Stay you there, you good-for-nothing old wretch! Thy flame of love shall have a little damping before I’ve done with thee. (Enter Abu Hassan
through the centre door). What! Are you already back, most distressed of widowers? Let us see if your tears are as productive of a golden stream as mine. (Speaks low to him). — The bird is caught.
Abu Hassan
What bird?
Fatima
(Softly, and pointing to the cabinet) Omar. (Then loud) — Where is the piece of brocade, and where the purse? (Softly) — There lie your accounts!
Abu Hassan
(Softly) — Excellent! (Loud) — Here are both — a heavy purse of a hundred gold pieces —— and see what a piece of brocade! Now say whether I have not outdone you in the art wherein the strength of your sex consists — the art of crying!
Fatima
A hundred gold pieces! A very pretty sum. Ah, you see how the Caliph valued me — he knew that so heavy a loss needed great consolation.
Abu Hassan
Yes, truly, and there was another consolation he offered me — which dried my tears in a twinkling.
Fatima
Ah! And pray what was that?
Abu Hassan
Six beautiful slaves! Abu Hassan, said he —— loving tender Abu Hassan — thy heart is too kind and fond to be suffered to wither in loneliness. Thou hast given a proof, in thy fidelity to thy wife, what a vast stock of affection thou hast in thy disposition. Take now to comfort thee a score of the fairest of those slaves just brought to my harem!
Fatima
A score of beautiful slaves!
Abu Hassan
Do not alarm thyself my dear. No, said I, Commander of the Faithful, with a mighty potentate like thee it is meet to have hundreds of wives. I am a philosopher — I have learnt to moderate my desires. — Once indeed I should have thought a score of wives a score of blessings, but now I am fain to content myself with half a dozen! Oh Nature, Nature, how easily art thou satisfied!
Fatima
Half a dozen wives! Let them not come here though, or you’ll find one wife too many for you! Ah rogue, rogue! I see by that twinkle of the eye, you are at your jokes again. (Softly) — By this time our prisoner must be in a comfortable plight!
Abu Hassan
(Softly) — True, I had almost forgotten him.
(He goes towards the cabinet). (Loud)- Where is the key of this cabinet?
Fatima
(In a tone of embarrassment)
The — the key?
Abu Hassan
Aye — the key! Open this door for me!
Fatima
I seek and seek the room all over. Where, where is the provoking key?
Abu Hassan
Who knows but that some hidden lover
May here in snug concealment be!
Omar
(Appearing at the grated opening over the door)
Oh dear! now will he soon discover
That I am here, then woe to me!
Abu Hassan
Yes, were I e’er so cold of spirit
Yet would I feel suspicion here.
Fatima
Trust me, your doubts I do not merit.
I feel a conscience pure and clear.
Omar
Oh dear! — I’ve lost all heart and spirit;
My knees together knock through fear.
Fatimaand Abu Hassan
The rogue is now with terror quaking
And sees of hope no flutt’ring ray.
He’ll never here again come raking
If he this once can get away.
Omar
My limbs are all with terror quaking;
I see of hope no flutt’ring ray;
Oh Allah! I give up all raking, —
Let me but this once get away.
Abu Hassan
In yonder closet There is a rival
From me concealed; Give me the key then
That I may seize him,
That I may squeeze him
Soon as his cowardly
Face is revealed.
Fatima
(After a pause)
Sudden reflection
Is in my bosom
Just now awak’d.
You have the key, love,
From out the key hole
With you, I’ll wager,
Taken away.
Abu Hassan
If thou dost linger I will break open
Bar, bolt and door.
Fatima
Every corner Have I examin’d,
But the vile key, dear,
On word and honour
Can I —
(She lets the key fall to the floor as if through fear)
Abu Hassan
See here!
Omar
Oh dear!
Fatima and Abu Hassan
Thou art —— — done over
He is Should he thee
Should I him —— — find
He has thee I have him — to death given over —
Abu Hassan
An
d naught shall change my mind.
Omar
I am done over Should he me find.
He has me to death given over —
Oh what a murderous mind!
Fatima
(Looking out of the window, speaks quick and anxiously)
See! the Upper Chamberlain, Mesrour, is hurrying hither! — You can imagine on what errand he comes.
Abu Hassan
(Hastens from the cabinet door, which he was on the point of opening) Quick! quick! Stretch yourself on this divan — your feet towards Mecca. Now let me cover you with the brocade. So! Now he may come as soon as he pleases!
(Abu Hassan sits himself down with a sorrowful countenance by Fatima’s head — and from time to time wipes his eyes with a handkerchief. Mesrour enters through centre door —— stops at the threshold and after a pause) By the great prophet, the Caliph has won the wager!
Abu Hassan
(Rises and approaches him)
I kiss thy hand in all humility — Ah! (Sighs heavily).
Mesrour
(With sympathy) — Poor Abu Hassan!
Abu Hassan