Stars of the Desert/Devotion of Aziz to Mir Khan
Devotion of Aziz to Mir Khan
Mir Khan
"And now, Aziz, I take my leave of thee."
Aziz
"Farewell, Mir Khan."
Mir Khan
"Hast thou no more to say?"
Aziz
"I, saying farewell to thee, take leave of all."
Mir Khan
"Thou knowest, Aziz, I shall return to thee.
I do but leave thee now, at thy command."
Aziz
"Ay, at my prayer."
Mir Khan
"Indeed I shall return
Ere the fifth sunset gild these barren hills.
I would have stayed with thee; have stayed alone,
Did I not feel the truth of all thy words,
How that my name entails a greater risk
Than thine my foster-brother, yet I go
Somewhat in doubt"
Aziz
"I have no doubt at all
Only go quickly, lest my heart should break!"
Mir Khan
"See, now, Aziz, it is but as thou sayest,
If I should stay, they will imprison me,
And hold me long, knowing my father's name
Makes me a hostage, worthy to be held,
Whilst thee they will not"
Aziz
"Me they will not hold."
Mir Khan
"What dost thou murmur?"
Aziz
"Nothing. Go, Mir Khan.
The last faint light has left the lilac hills,
And thou shouldst start. Even disguised as now
In the disfiguring raiment of a slave,
Thy beauty shines like evening stars, ablaze
Through dusky mists that but enhance their glow
Walk warily, Mir Khan, and hide thine eyes,
Lest women see, and passion shipwreck thee
Ere thou hast reached thy fort"
Mir Khan
"Whence I return
With a picked squadron to deliver thee."
Aziz
"Why dost thou hesitate?"
Mir Khan
"Farewells are sad,
And—there is something in thine eyes, Aziz,
Dost thou?—thou canst not—doubt of my return?"
Aziz
"I doubt thee not, Mir Khan. Another star
Has risen above the purple mountain crest,
Thou shouldst be gone."
Mir Khan
"Believe me"
Aziz
"I believe.
Indeed I know. Thine inmost secret thoughts
Are mine, were always mine. Ah, try me not,
Leave me, whilst I can bid thee leave me. Go,
Lest I implore thee, 'Stay and die with me!'"
Mir Khan
"Die? But thou diest not! I had not changed
My state and garments with thee, had a thought
Of death to thee, or even the chance of death,
Glanced on my mind. Nay, then, I stay, Aziz."
Aziz
"There is no risk. Thou art so much to me
Even a five days' parting moves me so,—
Breaks up my courage, till I hardly heed
What words I say. Go now. Thou art Aziz,
Aziz, the slave, remember, not Mir Khan,
Beloved of women, and ever in their snares,
Even as now."
Mir Khan
"Take thou my opium."
Aziz
"Nay, thou willst need it in the mountain pass;
I have my own."
Mir Khan
"Thine own was given to me
Long since thou knowest."
Aziz
"I tell thee I want it not!"
Mir Khan
"Well, as thou willst, Aziz, farewell."
Aziz
"Farewell."
•••••
Aziz
"Ah, thou art gone indeed. Mir Khan, Mir Khan,
Return to me, return! I am lost! I am dead!
Is that the sound of his returning feet?
Nay, it is but a stone, his horse's hoof
Sets leaping down the hillside. Oh, Mir Khan,
Thou art gone from me, and my life is gone with thee!
"Ay, thou hast gone, and left me to my fate,
Knowing I knew thou knewest. For thou didst know.
Last midnight, when Sher Afzul came to me
And told me the Shah-Zada had decreed
That thou shouldst die, for that light love of thine
Amongst his women, also he made known
Thou hadst arranged to change with me, to say
'Stay thou Aziz, while I, Mir Khan, return
To bring thee speedy succour from the fort.
And if they find that thou art but Aziz,
Aziz, the slave, and not the lord Mir Khan,
They will not wrong thee, will not torture thee
As they would torture me, the son of kings.'
"Further, Sher Afzul said thou, smiling, spak'st
Saying, 'He loves me so, he will remain,
Even with certain death confronting him.'
"Ay, but thou knew'st me well. He will remain!
There was no need of any speech of thine
To bid me stay. Am I not thine indeed
For life or death? Oh, I am glad, Mir Khan!
Glad that thou givest me this exquisite gift
Even the gift of death,—death for thy sake.
"Thy beauty was ever a perfect thing to me,
Gracious and free; to see thy luminous eyes
Lit with the longing of thine ardent soul,
Ablaze, like golden suns, in love or war,
To touch thy feet, setting thy stirrup-irons,
Or rest my lips upon thy drinking-cup,
These were the joys of Aziz, serving thee,
Living unnoticed with thee, in thy tents.
"Women have loved me, even me, Mir Khan,
Not with the adoration given to thee,
But with kind words, and gentle ways, that fell
On my worn heart as rain on dusty flowers,—
Perhaps it was pity, not love; I do not know.
But this devotion that I have for thee,
This is another thing; I have no words
To tell thee what thou knewest and didst not heed.
Why shouldst thou heed? What could I do for thee,
To whom the whole world is willing to give its all
Holding that all less than the sight of thee?
"When at to-morrow's dawn they torture me,
Burning my eyes, I shall remember thine,
The luminous circles of light I so adored.
And when they crush my limbs, I shall find peace
Knowing that thine, safe in the distant fort,
Amongst thy household rest in licit love.
"How I have envied them the things they did!
The women who loved thee, and were loved by thee.
Envied their jewelled hands the right to play
In that soft hair of thine, their little teeth
The law they allowed themselves to cling and bite
Thy rounded shoulder, I, who was naught to thee,
Set to prepare the couch, to smooth the quilt
"Once I remember, crouched against thy tent,
I sought for warmth (thou wouldst have pardoned me
So cold it was that night) and heard her speak,—
Her, who beside thee, tranced in pleasure, lay,
Saying, 'It is not for thy beauty's sake
That I desire thee so, but for thy fame,
Sweeping aside thine enemies, as leaves
Are blown by autumn gusts,' and thy reply
Was 'Ah, Delight, art thou so sure of this?
Wouldst thou have sought and loved me had I been
Ill-favoured, say, as my poor slave, Aziz?'
"Ah, poor indeed! I heard nor cared no more,
Shivering in my furs upon the snow,
Not from the cold, but from the icy pangs
Of pain that will be with me till I die.
Truly, to-morrow's torments will not be
Crueller than these memories of mine.
The heated irons, the flesh-dividing steel,
Are they not gifts from thee, my well-beloved?
"Ah, when they lead me out, beyond the walls,
I shall look forth, across the rosy hills
Knowing that far beyond their lilac rims
Thou wilt awake, in all thy beauty's pride,
Safe and beloved, already forgetful of me,
Whose lonely and smouldering life has broken at last
Into this passionate flame of death. Mir—Khan"