“Far from me be such a thought,” replies Abdul-asis, colouring. “No one thinks better of you than I. But, my cousin, permit me now to depart. Another time we will pursue the subject.”
“Bear with me now awhile rather,” cries Ayub, detaining him by the folds of his embroidered robe. “O Abdul-asis, remember the words of your father: ‘Beware, my son, of the seductions of love. It renders the mighty weak and makes slaves of princes.’ ”
The colour on the face of the Emir deepened into a flush of wrath. He was weary of hearing these words ever repeated—yet he kept silence.
“Time was, my cousin,” continues the discreet Ayub, “when you listened to my words, and all went well. Now, for the sake of a strange woman, a slave, a captive, you are bartering your kingdom.”
At this coarse allusion to the royal Egilona
