“Abdallah, thou hast lived, no doubt, twenty years longer in the world than I have done. What I now learn, being a man past middle age, and beginning to turn old, must have been to thee long since clear and well understood. Dost thou not perceive, in the wars which every year increase,--in the countless battles among Mussulmans, Heathens, and Christians, that God and our holy prophet have decreed, that the whole vault of heaven is to be converted into a fiery furnace, wherein the nations of the earth are to be melted like ore in the hands of the refiner?--Truly almost every nation has in itself life and spirit; but should not we, who are the noblest among them, feel that we are chosen to feed the flames; for, should the work advance so slowly as it now seems to do, all will perish in smoke; nor will the great Alchemist find at last aught but a mass of lifeless dross instead of pure metal remaining.” “Prince!” said Abdallah confounded, “methinks you would banish peace from this whole earth, and with it all national laws and rights. What then would be left to us?” “Rights of man!--rights of chivalry!--rights of women!” cried the emir with vehemence. “Each one should be held by his neighbour in due respect, and the masses should be mixed and shaken together, till they are fully melted, and thereafter assume of themselves finer forms than before.” “But, may it please your highness,” said Abdallah, “who has revealed to you this mystery? or by whom have you been chosen for such a duty as that which you would now take upon your shoulders?” “Are not the flames that burn here,” said the emir, beating on his breast, “enough to inform me, that I am chosen to assist like a firebrand in this mighty work?”--Suddenly pausing, however, he fixed a long, steadfast look on Abdallah, then added,--“Thou truly art no firebrand; neither heat nor light will come from thy heart; so let us talk no more of such matters, but get thee gone.” Abdallah rose proudly from the sofa, and bowed in order to take leave. Then Nurreddin held out his hand kindly to the old man, and said,--“Well, though thou art not a flaming firebrand, yet art thou not the less a brave soldier. I shall not deal with thee as I have done with the broken lute that lies yonder; nor indeed had it been so treated, had it been fit for any other service,--even, for example, as a shield. But a mere lute must answer to our thoughts or be destroyed. For the rest, old man, it is better that thou should’st forget what I have said; or think, if thou wilt, that I have for once broken the laws of our prophet, and confused my senses with wine. Good night.”--Thereupon the soldier retreated, and the emir threw himself back on the couch, grinning with wrath and vexation. He had not long been left thus alone, when there arose a great noise of music, clarionets, and cymbals, as if for some grand rejoicing, which rang and echoed through the castle. The emir started up in a rage, and called for his slaves.