The poetical works of Leigh Hunt :: :: University of Virginia Library

There came a man, making his hasty moan
Before the Sultan Mahmoud on his throne,
And crying out—“My sorrow is my right,
And I will see the Sultan, and to-night.”
“Sorrow,” said Mahmoud, “is a reverend thing:
I recognise its right, as king with king;
Speak on.” “A fiend has got into my house,”
Exclaim'd the staring man, “and tortures us:
One of thine officers;—he comes, the abhorr'd,
And takes possession of my house, my board,
My bed:—I have two daughters and a wife,
And the wild villain comes, and makes me mad with life.”

“Is he there now?” said Mahmoud:—“No; he left
The house when I did, of my wits bereft;
And laugh'd me down the street, because I vow'd
I'd bring the prince himself to lay him in his shroud,

I'm mad with want, I'm mad with misery,
And oh, thou Sultan Mahmoud, God cries out for thee!”

The Sultan comforted the man, and said,
“Go home, and I will send thee wine and bread,”
(For he was poor), “and other comforts. Go;
And should the wretch return, let Sultan Mahmoud know.”

In two days' time, with haggard eyes and beard,
And shaken voice, the suitor reappear'd,
And said “He's come.”—Mahmoud said not a word,
But rose, and took four slaves, each with a sword,
And went with the vex'd man. They reach the place,
And hear a voice, and see a female face,
That to the window flutter'd in affright.
“Go in,” said Mahmoud, “and put out the light;
But tell the females first to leave the room;
And when the drunkard follows them, we come.”

The man went in. There was a cry, and hark!
A table falls, the window is struck dark;
Forth rush the breathless women; and behind
With curses comes the fiend in desperate mind.
In vain: the sabres soon cut short the strife,
And chop the shrieking wretch, and drink his bloody life.

“Now light the light,” the Sultan cried aloud.
'Twas done; he took it in his hand, and bow'd
Over the corpse, and look'd upon the face;
Then turn'd and knelt beside it in the place,
And said a prayer, and from his lips there crept
Some gentle words of pleasure, and he wept.

In reverent silence the spectators wait,
Then bring him at his call both wine and meat;
And when he had refresh'd his noble heart,
He bade his host be blest, and rose up to depart.

The man amaz'd, all mildness now, and tears,
Fell at the Sultan's feet, with many prayers,

And begg'd him to vouchsafe to tell his slave,
The reason first of that command he gave
About the light; then when he saw the face,
Why he knelt down; and lastly, how it was,
That fare so poor as his detain'd him in the place.

The Sultan said, with much humanity,
“Since first I saw thee come, and heard thy cry,
I could not rid me of a dread, that one
By whom such daring villanies were done,
Must be some lord of mine, perhaps a lawless son.
Whoe'er he was, I knew my task, but fear'd
A father's heart, in case the worst appear'd.
For this I had the light put out. But when
I saw the face, and found a stranger slain,
I knelt and thank'd the sovereign arbiter,
Whose work I had perform'd through pain and fear;
And then I rose, and was refresh'd with food,
The first time since thou cam'st, and marr'dst my solitude.”