he face of Truth
Of all that made him instant of his death,
Waited with eyes indifferent, equal breath.

The palace reached, "Bring in the prisoner
Before the Khalif," and he came as were
He in no wise concerned: unquestioning went
Chin bowed on breast, and on his feet a bent
Dark gaze of scornful freedom unafraid,
Till at the Khalif's throne his steps were staid;
And unsaluting, standing head held down,
An armed attendant blazed him with a frown,
"Dog of the Bedouins! thy eyes rot out!
Insulter! must the whole big world needs shout
'Commander of the Faithful,' so thou see?"

To him the Arab sneering, "Verily,
Packsaddle of an ass."

The Khalif's rage
Exceeded now, and, "By my realm and rage!
Arab, thy hour is come, thy very last;
Thy hope is vanished and thy life is past."
The shepherd answered, "Aye?--by Allah, then,
O Hisham, if my time be stretched again,
Unscissored of what Destiny ordain,
Little or great, thy words give little pain."

Then the chief Chamberlain, "O vilest one
Of all the Arabs! wilt thou not be done
Bandying thy baseness with the Ruler of
The Faithful?" spat upon his face. A scoff
Fiery made answer:

"There be some have heard
The nonsense of our God, the text absurd,
'One day each soul whatever shall be prompt
To bow before me and to give accompt.'"

Then wroth indeed was Hisham; hotly said,
"He braves us!--headsman, ho! his peevish head!
See; canst thou medicine its speech anew,
Doctor its multiplying words to few;
Divorce them well." So, where the Arab stood,
Bound him; made kneel upon the cloth of blood:
With curving sword the headsman leaned at pause,
And, even as 'tis custom made of laws,
To the descendant of the Prophet quoth,
"O Khalif, shall I strike?"

"By Iblis' oath!
Strike!" answered Hisham; but again the slave
Questioned; and yet again the Khalif gave
His nodded "yea"; and for the third time then
He asked--and knowing neither men nor Jinn
Might save him if the Khalif spake assent,
Signalled the sword, the youth with body bent
Laughed--till the wang-teeth of each jaw appeared,
Laughed--as with scorn the King of kings he 'd beard,
Insulting death. So, with redoubled spleen
Roared Hisham risin