The Welcome

From the Persian by Edward Fitzgerald ONE night Shah Mahmúd, who had been of late Somewhat distempered with Affairs of State, Strolled through the Streets disguised, as wont to do— And coming to the Baths, there on the Flue Saw the poor Fellow who the Furnace fed Sitting beside his Water-jug and Bread. Mahmúd stept in—sat down—unasked took up And tasted of the untasted Loaf and Cup, Saying within himself, “Grudge but a bit, And, by the Lord, your Head shall pay for it!” So, having rested, warmed and satisfied Himself without a Word on either side, At last the wayward Sultan rose to go. And then at last his Host broke silence—“So?— Art satisfied? Well, Brother, and Day Or Night, remember, when you come this Way And want a bit of Provender—why, you Are welcome, and if not—why, welcome too.”— The Sultan was so tickled with the whim Of this quaint Entertainment and of him Who offered it, that many a Night again Stoker and Shah forgathered in that vein— Till, the poor Fellow having stood the Test Of true Good-fellowship, Mahmúd confessed One Night the Sultan that had been his Guest: And in requital of the scanty Dole The poor Man offered with so large a soul, Bid him ask any Largess that he would— A Throne—if he would have it, so he should. The Poor Man kissed the Dust, and “All,” said he, “I ask is what and where I am to be; If but the Shah from time to time will come As now, and see me in the lowly Home His presence makes a Palace, and my own Poor Flue more royal than another’s Throne.”