Prairie Gold Part 17

_King Nasrulla (slowly, after a pause)._ It is the way of the world, Nourmahal. What the world is, it is, and that is forever and ever, unless it should be the will of G.o.d to make a new world.

_Nourmahal._ A new world! (_She pauses dreamily._) Yes, that is what I want, a new world. That is what men are making somewhere, I know it.

That is what is in my heart, and the same thing must be in the hearts of other men and women. A new world! What would it be to wake up every morning with a fresh wonder, not knowing what the day would bring?

What would it be every morning to take the saddle and follow a new road ahead of the sun?

_King Nasrulla._ If I could go with you----

_Nourmahal._ You have horses.

_King Nasrulla._ It is not so decreed. My place is here.

_Nourmahal._ Your place is here, and it is your place to have three or four queens as your ministers decide for you. One queen is to keep peace with the King of the South, another is to keep peace with the King of the West, and the third is to keep peace with the King of the East. The fourth queen you may choose for yourself from your own people--if you choose before some other king offers a daughter. You may make slaves of your queens so that your neighbor kings may make a slave of you.

_King Nasrulla._ Yes, if I would be king--and you would be queen.

_Nourmahal._ Queen!--in a world where the flowers that bloom to-day died centuries ago! Queen--in a world where queens may look out of grated windows and never walk the streets! Queen--in a world where My Lord the King may not come to my door too often lest the daughter of the King of the South put poison in the nectar that her slaves offer him to-morrow!

_King Nasrulla._ The world is the world, and its enduring is forever and ever. We are but shadows that change and break on the surface of running water. We may stand for a moment in the sun, but we cannot stop the rain that fills the stream. We cannot fix our images for a moment on the drops that are rushing out to the sea.

_Nourmahal (looking away from him dreamily)._ "Ah Love! could you and I with Him conspire To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things Entire, Would we not shatter it to bits--and then Remould it nearer to the Heart's desire?"

He looks at her steadily, but she does not turn her head, and, while they are so silent a woman comes from the left with a water jar, fills it from the well, puts it on her head, and pa.s.ses off again. The sun is now warming the tops of the mountains to a soft pink.

_King Nasrulla._ We must find the water where it flows--or go thirsty.

_Nourmahal (more pa.s.sionately)._ But somewhere the women do not carry water. The poet only thought of doing what somewhere men have done.

Here a thousand years are but as yesterday and ten thousand as a watch in the night. I am not I, but an echo of the mad desires of dead men whose dust has been blown across the desert for countless centuries.

Why should I not think of my own desires before my dust, too, flies forgotten before the pa.s.sing caravans?

_King Nasrulla._ But you are to be my queen. Nothing more can anyone give you in Saranazett.

_Nourmahal._ And to-morrow or next week your amba.s.sador to the King of the East comes back with letters and pledges of friendship. Perhaps he brings with him the King's daughter.

_King Nasrulla._ But she is only the official seal of a bond, only a hostage. She is not the rose that I pin over my heart. She is not the nightingale that I love to hear singing in my garden. She is not the face behind the lattice that draws my eager feet. She is not the fountain that will make me drink and drink again.

_Nourmahal._ But I shall not ride with you into the distance and leave the kings' daughters behind?

_King Nasrulla._ The King of the East----

_Nourmahal._ I know. The King of the East has a great army. I must stay in my garden, or I shall have to spend my life talking about the things he likes or dislikes, his angers and his fondnesses, with the women of his harem.

She puts her foot out for his hand, ready to be taken down from the horse.

_King Nasrulla._ Nourmahal!

_Nourmahal._ Yes, I must keep my veil before my face and stay within my garden.

He helps her down, and she turns the horse's head back to the right in the direction from which they came.

_King Nasrulla._ I shall take you, Nourmahal, and make you queen.

_Nourmahal._ Take me! Take the others and let them be queens. They will be happy enough, after the way of their mothers, but you cannot take the wind.

_King Nasrulla._ Being your lover is not ceasing to be king. May not the king ask of his subjects what he will? What is it to be king?

_Nourmahal (turning as she is pa.s.sing toward the gate)._ Sometimes it is making a fresher and happier world for those who come to kneel before the throne. Kings are not often so wise.

_King Nasrulla._ And when they are not so wise they think of their own happiness. They let love come into the palace, and the favorite queen has the riches of the earth heaped in jewels before her. The tenderness of the moon shines in the clasp of her girdle, and the splendor of the sun glitters in a circlet for her forehead.

_Nourmahal._ And sometimes, seeking their own pleasure, kings make the killing of those who are not kings their joy. They teach all men to be soldiers and all soldiers to be ruthless. Their women learn to delight in the echoes of battle, and the man who is not scarred by the marks of many fights they pity and despise. So women forget to be gentle, and the lords and masters of earth no longer watch over them and care for them, no longer shelter the weak and the defenseless, no longer think of right and justice, because they carry in their hands the javelins of might and they have learned to fling them far.

_King Nasrulla._ But I shall watch over you as the cloud watches over the garden where the roses are waiting for the rain.

_Nourmahal._ No, I shall not have a king to watch over me.

Somewhere they have no kings. A queen dies daily with loneliness, or lives hourly in the burning hate of all her sister queens. To breathe the air where there are no queens would be an ecstasy. I will not be a king's first queen or his last queen or his concubine or any other creature whom he may cast aside for a new fancy whenever the fancy comes.

A messenger enters from the right, preceded by two attendants carrying each one of the long, melon-shaped lanterns that accompany royalty. The messenger bows before Nasrulla, dropping on one knee.

_Messenger._ Your Royal Highness, I am sent to beg that you will hear me.

_King Nasrulla._ It is my pleasure to listen to your message. Speak!

_Messenger._ It is not I speaking, Your Majesty, but your minister, Huseyn.

_King Nasrulla._ I listen to the words of Huseyn.

_Messenger._ Know, O Mighty Lord of the Great Center of Earth--the amba.s.sador to the King of the East is reported returning by the long highway.

Nourmahal's father, Mehrab, comes out from the gate in the wall and stands listening.

_King Nasrulla._ Say to Huseyn that I will see him and make arrangements for his reception before nightfall.

_Messenger._ He brings very important tidings, Your Majesty. Pardon me, O Lord of the Lives of Your Servants. I speak but the words of Huseyn.

_King Nasrulla._ I hear the words of Huseyn.

_Messenger._ The amba.s.sador should be received a early as may be, is the word of Huseyn. He knows the will of the King of the East, and the King of the East would know your will, O Mightiest of the Mighty.

_Nourmahal (bowing to her knees before him)._ Let me beg of you also, King Nasrulla, that you give audience at once to the amba.s.sador who comes with word from the King of the East.

_King Nasrulla._ I listen to the words of Nourmahal with the words of Huseyn.

_Messenger._ And I shall say to the Prime Minister Huseyn that His Majesty, the Lord of Everlasting Effulgence, will graciously consent to speak with him before the sun looks in at his image in the water jars.

_Nourmahal._ O King Nasrulla, for the sake of the rule that is thine from thy fathers, for the maintaining of peace in all thy borders, for the security of thy people, who harvest their hopes in fear, permit the approach of the amba.s.sador who returns from the King of the East.

_King Nasrulla._ The wish of Nourmahal is a command. I go to make ready for the amba.s.sador who comes with word from the King of the East.