The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - CompleteParker, Gilbert
General
The Weavers: a tale of England and Egypt of fifty years ago - Complete
Parker, Gilbert
Society of Friends -- Fiction
Three times, with slow and stately steps, the procession wound in a
circle in the great square, before it approached the pavilion where the
Effendina sat, the splendid camels carrying the embroidered tent wherein
the Carpet rested, and that which bore the Emir of the pilgrims, moving
gracefully like ships at sea. Naked swordsmen, with upright and shining
blades, were followed by men on camels bearing kettle-drums. After them
came Arab riders with fresh green branches fastened to the saddles like
plumes, while others carried flags and banners emblazoned with texts
and symbols. Troops of horsemen in white woollen cloaks, sheikhs and
Bedouins with flowing robes and huge turbans, religious chiefs of the
great sects, imperturbable and statuesque, were in strange contrast to
the shouting dervishes and camel-drivers and eager pilgrims.
At last the great camel with its sacred burden stopped in front of
Kaid for his prayer and blessing. As he held the tassels, lifted the
gold-fringed curtain, and invoked Allah’s blessing, a half-naked sheikh
ran forward, and, raising his hand high above his head, cried shrilly:
“Kaid, Kaid, hearken!”
Rough hands caught him away, but Kaid commanded them to desist; and the
man called a blessing on him; and cried aloud:
“Listen, O Kaid, son of the stars and the light of day. God hath exalted
thee. Thou art the Egyptian of all the Egyptians. In thy hand is power.
But thou art mortal even as I. Behold, O Kaid, in the hour that I was
born thou wast born, I in the dust without thy Palace wall, thou amid
the splendid things. But thy star is my star. Behold, as God ordains,
the Tree of Life was shaken on the night when all men pray and cry aloud
to God--even the Night of the Falling Leaves. And I watched the falling
leaves; and I saw my leaf, and it was withered, but only a little
withered, and so I live yet a little. But I looked for thy leaf, thou
who wert born in that moment when I waked to the world. I looked long,
but I found no leaf, neither green nor withered. But I looked again upon
my leaf, and then I saw that thy name now was also upon my leaf, and
that it was neither green nor withered; but was a leaf that drooped as
when an evil wind has passed and drunk its life. Listen, O Kaid! Upon
the tomb of Mahomet I will set my lips, and it may be that the leaf of
my life will come fresh and green again. But thou--wilt thou not
come also to the lord Mahomet’s tomb? Or”--he paused and raised his
voice--“or wilt thou stay and lay thy lips upon the cross of the
infidel? Wilt thou--”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account