Page:The poetical works of Matthew Arnold, 1897.djvu/126

88 THE SICK KING IN BOKHARA.

HUSSEIN.

just vizier, send away

The cloth-merchants, and let them be,

Them and their dues, this day! the king

Is ill at ease, and calls for thee.

THE VIZIER.

O merchants, tarry yet a day

Here in Bokhara! but at noon

To-morrow come, and ye shall pay

Each fortieth web of cloth to me,

As the law is, and go your way.

O Hussein, lead me to the king!

Thou teller of sweet tales, thine own,

Ferdousi's, and the others', lead!

How is it with my lord?

HUSSEIN.

Alone,

Ever since prayer-time, he doth wait,

O vizier! without lying down,

In the great window of the gate,

Looking into the Registàn,

Where through the sellers' booths the slaves

Are this way bringing the dead man

O vizier, here is the king's door!