SIDI (timidly touching her hand). Now this is a wonderful thing,
and worthy to be chronicled with the story of Solomon and the
Queen of Sheba. Is it not so, Osman Ali?
OSMAN. Allah upon thee, master! it is so.
SIDI. Brassbound Ali: the oath of a just man fulfils itself
without many words. The infidel Cadi, thy captive, falls to my
share.
BRASSBOUND (firmly). It cannot be, Sidi el Assif. (Sidi's brows
contract gravely.) The price of his blood will be required of our
lord the Sultan. I will take him to Morocco and deliver him up
there.
SIDI (impressively). Brassbound: I am in mine own house and amid
mine own people. I am the Sultan here. Consider what you say; for
when my word goes forth for life or death, it may not be recalled.
BRASSBOUND. Sidi el Assif: I will buy the man from you at what
price you choose to name; and if I do not pay faithfully, you
shall take my head for his.
SIDI. It is well. You shall keep the man, and give me the woman in
payment.
SIR HOWARD AND BRASSBOUND (with the same impulse). No, no.
LADY CICELY (eagerly). Yes, yes. Certainly, Mr. Sidi. Certainly.
Sidi smiles gravely.
SIR HOWARD. Impossible.
BRASSBOUND. You don't know what you're doing.
LADY CICELY. Oh, don't I? I've not crossed Africa and stayed with
six cannibal chiefs for nothing. (To the Sheikh) It's all right,
Mr. Sidi: I shall be delighted.
SIR HOWARD. You are mad. Do you suppose this man will treat you as
a European gentleman would?
LADY CICELY.
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