hers, and that one asked the other, 'Of all
the deeds thou hast done, which was the most wicked?' And his brother
replied, 'This. As I passed a hen-roost one day, I stretched out my
arm and I seized a chicken and strangled it, and then flung it back
into the roost. That is the wickedest deed of my life. And thou, O my
brother, what is thy wickedest action?' And he answered, 'That I
prayed to Allah one day to demand a favour of him. For it is only when
the soul is simply uplifted on high that prayer can be beautiful.'"

And one of her companions, captive and slave like herself, also speaks
to the king: "Learn to know thyself," she says. "Learn to know
thyself! And do thou not act till then. And do thou then only act in
accordance with all thy desires, but having great care always that thou
do not injure thy neighbour."

To this last formula our morality of today has nothing to add; nor can
we conceive a precept that shall be more complete. At most we could
widen somewhat the meaning of the word "neighbour," and raise, render
somewhat more subtle and more elastic, that of the word "injure." And
the book in which these words are found is a monument of horror,
notwithstanding all its flowers and all its wisdom a monument of
horror and blood and tears, of despotism and slavery. And they who
pronounce these words are slaves. A merchant buys them I know not
where, and sells them to some old hag who teaches them, or causes them
to be taught, philosophy, poetry, all Eastern sciences, in order that
one day they may become gifts worthy of a king. And when their
education is finished, and their beauty and wisdom call forth the
admiration of all who approach them, the industrious, prudent old woman
does indeed offer them to a very wise, very just king. And when this
very wise, very just king has taken their virginity from them, and
seeks other loves, he will probably bestow them (I have forgotten the
end of this particular story, but it is the invariable destiny of all
the heroines of these marvellous legends) on his viziers. And these
viziers will give them away in exchange for a vase of perfume or a belt
studded with jewels; or perhaps despatch them to a distant country,
there to conciliate a powerful protector, or a hideous, but dreaded,
rival. And these women, so fully conscious of themselves, whose gaze
can penetrate so deeply into the consciousness of others--these women
who forever are pondering the lofties