[Flinging him one from the divan.
Fakrash.
[Squatting on cushion.] Hearken! During my wanderings I have learnt that, beyond all doubt, Suleymán, the son of Dáood, sleeps with his fathers!
Horace.
As a matter of fact, he's been doing that for about three thousand years.
Fakrash.
Sayest thou so? Then—[cunningly]—tell me. Doth there still remain any one of Suleymán's seed that exerciseth his authority over them of the Jinn?
Horace.
No. As soon as you've made things right for me, you can go off to your own country and settle down comfortably—there's no power on earth that can interfere with you.
Fakrash.