" Arrived, Hussein is desired to relate the
cause of the king's sickness; and he tells how, three days since, a
certain Moollah came before the king's path, calling for justice on
himself, whom, deemed a fool or a drunkard, the guards pricked off
with their spears, while the king passed on into the mosque: and how
the man came on the morrow with yesterday's blood-spots on him, and
cried out for right. What follows is told with great singleness and
truth: "Thou knowest," the man says,
"'How fierce
In these last day the sun hath burned;
That the green water in the tanks
Is to a putrid puddle turned;
And the canal that from the stream
Of Samarcand is brought this way
Wastes and runs thinner every day.
"'Now I at nightfall had gone forth
Alone; and, in a darksome place
Under some mulberry-trees, I found
A little pool; and, in brief space,
With all the water that was there
I filled my pitcher, and stole home
Unseen; and, having drink to spare,
I hid the can behind the door,
And went up on the roof to sleep.
"'But, in the night, which was with wind
And burning dust, again I creep
Down, having fever, for a drink.
"'Now, meanwhile, had my brethren found
The water-pitcher, where it stood
Behind the door upon the ground,
And called my mother: and they all,
As they were thirsty and the night
Most sultry, drained the pitcher there;
That they sat with it in my sight,
Their lips still wet, when I came down.
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