And Abubekr got a spiteful pat. “While as for you,” the dervish cried— Here Abdul’s ears were opened wide— “Oh, prophet, you at least did _know_, Why didn’t you avert the blow? In highest heaven you sat and saw; But didn’t help your son-in-law.” Down came the club with heavy thud, The prophet was but flattened mud. The dervish turned him, bowing low, “Allah,” he cried, “from you I’ll know Why _you_ did nothing; like the rest, You were a lazy God at best. When all mankind are in Thy hand Why not despatch an angel band? Or bid the earth to open wide And swallow Omar in his pride? What, silent too! ah, senseless clod!”— The dervish raised his club to God. Here Abdul screamed, and shouted, “Hold! Ah, had you smashed _Him_—over-bold And brainless dervish—as before, Chaos would come again once more.” The dervish heard—“Azraël!”[30] he cried, Stared, and sunk back, and, shuddering, died, And gave up his reluctant breath, Thinking he heard the voice of Death. Then cautious Abdul reached the ground, Looked on the dervish, gazed around, And softly to himself did cry, “’Tis certain there is no one by.” He searched the corpse, a purse appears, And Abdul dries his frightened tears, Hies to his smiling wife, says, “See! From Allah, love, for you and me.” “Husband,” quoth she, “God helps us all, Both prince and beggar, great and small.” Abdul replied, “But, girl, you see, _God would have perished but for me!_” [Illustration: FACSIMILE OF RUDE PERSIAN WOODCUT.] The reading of poetry is much in vogue among the upper classes to _promote sleep_! and even the most ignorant can rattle off long recitations. So common is the habit of introducing poetry, that Europeans are looked on as very ignorant, because their conversation is prosaic; and one of the staff obtained quite a reputation as a well-read man in a curious manner. He was acquainted with one (_and only one_) verse of Persian poetry, a very well-known one. It was this:— “For the mole on the cheek of that girl of Shiraz I would give away Samarkand and Bokhara.” Now the gentleman, on the mention of the word mole, cheek, girl, Shiraz, Samarkand, or Bokhara, would instantly introduce the quotation; and as Shiraz was the town we lived in, and Central Asian affairs are continually on the tapis, Samarkand and Bokhara, unlikely words as they were for general conversation, were invariably introduced, and the inevitable quotation made. Unfortunately another member of the staff, jealous of his rival’s reputation, betrayed him, and Othello’s occupation went.