HUSSEIN.
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hree days since, at the time of prayer,A certain Moollah, with his robeAll rent, and dust upon his hair,Watched my lord’s coming forth, and pushedThe golden mace-bearers aside,And fell at the king’s feet, and cried,-- “Justice, O king, and on myself!On this great sinner, who did breakThe law, and by the law must die!Vengeance, O king!” But the king spake:“What fool is this, that hurts our earsWith folly? or what drunken slave?My guards, what! prick him with your spears!Prick me the fellow from the path!” As the king said, so was it done,And to the mosque my lord passed on. But on the morrow, when the kingWent forth again, the holy bookCarried before him, as is right,And through the square his way he took; My man comes running, flecked with bloodFrom yesterday, and falling downCries out most earnestly, “O king,My lord, O king, do right, I pray! “How canst thou, ere thou hear, discernIf I speak folly? but a king,Whether a thing be great or small,Like Allah, hears and judges all. “Wherefore hear thou! Thou know’st, how fierceIn these last days the sun hath burned;That the green water in the tanksIs to a putrid puddle turned;And the canal, that from the streamOf Samarcand is brought this way,Wastes and runs thinner every day. ‘Now I at nightfall had gone forthAlone, and in a darksome placeUnder some mulberry-trees I foundA little pool; and in short spaceWith all the water that was thereI filled my pitcher, and stole homeUnseen; and having drink to spare,I hid the can behind the door,And went up on the roof to sleep. “But in the night, which was with windAnd burning dust, again I creepDown, having fever, for a drink. “Now, meanwhile had my brethren foundThe water-pitcher, where it stoodBehind the door upon the ground,And called my mother; and they all,As they were thirsty, and the nightMost sultry, drained the pitcher there;That they sate with it, in my sight,Their lips still wet, when I came down. “Now mark! I, being fevered, sick,(Most unblest also), at that sightBrake forth, and cursed them--dost thou hear?--One was my mother.---- Now do right!” But my lord mused a space, and said,--“Send him away, sirs, and make on!It is some madman,” the king said.As the king bade, so was it done. The morrow, at the self-same hour,In the king’s path, behold, the man,Not kneeling, sternly fixed! He stoodRight opposite, and thus began,Frowning grim down: “Thou wicked king,Most deaf where thou shouldst most give ear!What! must I howl in the next world,Because thou wilt not listen here? “What! wilt thou pray, and get thee grace,And all grace shall to me be grudged?Nay, but I swear, from this thy pathI will not stir till I be judged!” Then they who stood about the kingDrew close together, and conferred;Till that the king stood forth, and said,“Before the priests thou shalt be heard.” But when the Ulemas were met,And the thing heard, they doubted not;But sentenced him, as the law is,To die by stoning on the spot. Now the king charged us secretly:“Stoned must he be, the law stands so.Yet, if he seek to fly, give way:Hinder him not, but let him go.” So saying, the king took a stone,And cast it softly; but the man,With a great joy upon his face,Kneeled down, and cried not, neither ran. So they, whose lot it was, cast stones,That they flew thick, and bruised him sore.But he praised Allah with loud voice,And remained kneeling as before. My lord had covered up his face;But when one told him, “He is dead,”Turning him quickly to go in,“Bring thou to me his corpse,” he said. And truly, while I speak, O king,I hear the bearers on the stair:Wilt thou they straightway bring him in?--Ho! enter ye who tarry there!
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