'Sorcerer!' exclaimed Alp Arslan, 'insolent sorcerer! base son of a base
mother! dog of dogs! dost thou defy us? Does thy master Eblis whisper
hope? Dost thou laugh at our punishments? Wilt thou fly into the
air? wilt thou sink into the earth? eh, eh? Is it so, is it so?' The
breathless monarch ceased, from the exhaustion of passion. He tore his
beard out by the roots, he stamped with uncontrollable rage.
'Thou art wiser than thy councillors, royal Arslan; I do defy thee.
My master, although not Eblis, has not deserted me. I laugh at thy
punishments. Thy tortures I despise. I shall both sink into the earth
and mount into the air. Art thou answered?'
'By my beard,' exclaimed the enraged Arslan, 'I am answered. Let Eblis
save thee if he can;' and the King of Karasme, the most famous master
of the sabre in Asia, drew his blade like lightning from its sheath,
and took off the head of Alroy at a stroke. It fell, and, as it fell, a
smile of triumphant derision seemed to play upon the dying features
of the hero, and to ask of his enemies, 'Where now are all your
tortures?'[82]
NOTES TO ALROY.
[Footnote 1: page 4.--_We shall yet see an ass mount a ladder_.--Hebrew
proverb.]
[Footnote 2: page 12.
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