On the Friday following this scene, when the prayers were done, Othmân ascended the pulpit. He first appealed to the better sense of the citizens, who (he knew), however cowed by the threats of the rebels, condemned their lawless attitude. Then turning to the conspirators themselves, who had been taking part in the service, he continued, ‘Ye are aware that the men of Medîna hold you to be accursed at the mouth of the Prophet, for that ye have risen up against his Caliph and Vicegerent. Wherefore wipe out now your evil deeds by repentance, and by good deeds atone for the same.’ One and another of the loyal citizens arose earnestly to confirm the Caliph’s words and plead his cause; but they were silenced and violently set down.[481] A tumult arose. The men of Medîna were driven from the Mosque and its court, by showers of stones. One of these struck Othmân, who fell from the pulpit to the ground, and was carried to his house adjoining in a swoon. He soon recovered, and for some days was still able to preside at the daily prayers. But at last the insolence and violence of the insurgents, rising beyond bounds, forced him to keep to his house, and a virtual blockade ensued. But a body-guard of armed retainers, supported by certain of the citizens, succeeded for the present in keeping the entrance safe. [Sidenote: Attitude of Aly, Zobeir, and Talha.] From the day of the first tumult, Aly, Zobeir, and Talha (the three named by the rebels as candidates for the Caliphate) each sent a son to join the loyal and gallant band planted at the palace door. But they did little more; and, in fact, throughout the painful episode, they kept themselves altogether in the background. After the uproar and Othmân’s swoon, they came along with others to inquire how he fared. But no sooner did they enter, than Merwân and other kinsmen tending the Caliph, cried out against Aly as the prime author of the disaster, which would recoil, they said (and said truly) upon his own head. Thereupon Aly arose in wrath, and, with the rest, retired home. It was, in truth, a cruel and dastardly desertion, and in the end bore bitter fruit for one and all. It was not only a crime, but a fatal mistake. Alarm at the defiant rising against constituted authority, and loyalty to the throne, equally demanded bold and uncompromising measures. The truth was outspoken by one of the Companions at the time. ‘Ye Coreish,’ he said, ‘there hath been till now a strong and fenced door betwixt you and the Arabs; wherefore do ye now break down the same?’[482] [Sidenote: Othmân closely besieged, holds parley with Aly, Zobeir, and Talha.]