"From whence do you come, fair sir? We should know your name,—POETS are not so common!" This with an accent of irony.
Taken aback by the question, Theos stood irresolute, and uncertain what to say. For he was afflicted with a strange and terrible malady such as he dimly remembered having heard of, but never expected to suffer from,—a malady in which his memory had become almost a blank as regarded the past events of his life—though every now and then shadowy images of by-gone things flitted across his brain, like the transient reflections of wind-swept clouds on still, translucent water. Presently in the midst of his painful indecision, an answer suggested itself like a whispered hint from some invisible prompter:
"Poets like Sah-luma are no doubt as rare as nightingales in snow!" he said with a soft deference, and an increasing sense of tenderness for his haughty, handsome interlocutor—"As for me, I am a singer of sad songs that are not worth the hearing! My name is Theos,—I come from far beyond the seas, and am a stranger in Al-Kyris,—therefore if I have erred in aught, I must be blamed for ignorance, not malice!"
As he spoke Sah-luma regarded him intently,—Theos met his gaze frankly and unflinchingly. Surely there was some singular power of attraction between the two! … for as their flashing eyes again dwelt earnestly on one another, they both smiled, and Sah-luma, advancing, proffered his hand. Theos at once accepted it, a curious sensation of pleasure tingling through his frame, as he pressed those slender blown fingers in his own cordial clasp.
"A stranger in Al-Kyris?—and from beyond the seas? Then by my life and honor, I insure thy safety and bid thee welcome! A singer of sad songs? … Sad or merry, that thou are a singer at all makes thee the guest of the King's Laureate!" A look of conscious vanity illumined his face as he thus announced with proud emphasis his own title and claim to distinction. "The brotherhood of poets," he continued laughingly—"is a mystic and doubtful tie that hath oft been questioned,—but provided they do not, like ill-conditioned wolves, fight each other out of the arena, there should be joy in the relationship". Here, turning full upon the crowd, he lifted his rich, melodious voice to higher and more ringing tones:
"It is like you, O hasty and misjudging Kyrisians, that finding a harmless wanderer from far off lands, present at the pageant of the Midsummer Benediction, ye should pounce upon him, even as kites on a straying sea-bird, and maul him with your ruthless talons! Has he broken the law of worship! Ye have broken the law of hospitality! Has he failed to kneel to the passing Ship of the Sun? So have ye failed to handle him with due courtesy! What report shall he bear hence of your gentleness and culture to those dim and unjoyous shores beyond the gray green wall of ocean-billows, where the very name of Al-Kyris serves as a symbol for all that is great and wise and wondrous in the whole round circle of the world? Moreover ye know full well that foreigners and sojourners in the city are exempt from worship,—and the King's command is that all such should be well and nobly entertained, to the end that when they depart they may carry with them a full store of pleasant memories. Hence, scatterbrains, to your homes!—No festival can ye enjoy without a gust of contention!—ye are ill-made instruments all, whose jarring strings even I, crowned Minstrel of the King, can scarce keep one day in happy tune! Look you now! … this stranger is my guest!—. Is there a man in Al-Kyris who will treat as an enemy one whom Sah-luma calls friend?"
A storm of applause followed this little extempore speech,—applause accompanied by an odorous rain of flowers. There were many women in the crowd, and these had pressed eagerly forward to catch every word that dropped from the Poet-Laureate's mellifluous lips,—now, moved by one common impulse, they hastily snatched off their posies and garlands, and flung them in lavish abundance at his feet. Some of the blossoms chancing to fall on Theos and cling to his garments, he quickly shook them off, and gathering them together, presented them to the personage for whom they were intended. He, however, gayly rejected them, moving his small sandalled foot playfully among the thick wealth of red and white roses that lay waiting to be crushed beneath his tread.
"Keep thy share!" he said, with an amused flash of his glorious eyes. "Such offerings are my daily lot! … I can spare thee one handful from the overflowing harvest of my song!"
It was impossible to be offended with such charming self-complacency,—the naive conceit of the man was as harmless as the delight of a fair girl who has made her first conquest, and Theos smiling, kept the flowers. By this time the surrounding throng had broken up into little knots and groups,—all ill-humor on the part of the populace had completely vanished,—and large numbers were now leaving the embankment and dispersing in different directions to their several homes. All those who had been within hearing distance of Sah-luma's voice appeared highly elated, as though they had enjoyed some special privilege and pleasure, … to be reproved by the Laureate was evidently considered better than being praised by any one else. Many persons pressed up to Theos, and shaking hands with him, offered their eager excuses and apologies for the misunderstanding that had lately taken place, explaining with much animation both of look and gesture, that the fact of his wearing the same style of dress as themselves had induced them to take it for granted that he must be one of their fellow-citizens, and therefore subject to the laws of the realm. Theos was just beginning to feel somewhat embarrassed by the excessive politeness and cordiality, of his recent antagonists, when Sah-luma, again interposing, cut all explanations short.
"Come, come! cease this useless prating!" he said imperatively yet good-naturedly—"In everything ye showed your dullard ignorance and lack of discernment. For, concerning the matter of attire, are not the fashions of Al-Kyris copied more or less badly in every quarter of the habitable globe?—even as our language and literature form the chief study and delight of all scholars and educated gentlemen? A truce to your discussions!—Let us get hence and home;" here he turned to Theos with a graceful salutation—"You, my good friend, will doubtless be glad to rest and recover from my countrymen's ungentle treatment of your person."