Explore "The Return of the Druses" by Robert Browning on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
_The uninitiated_ Druses, _filling the hall tumultuously, and speaking together._
Here flock we, obeying the summons. Lo, / Hakeem hath appeared, and the Prefect is / dead, and we return to Lebanon! My manufacture / of goats' fleece must, I doubt, soon fall / away there. Come, old Nasif -- link thine arm / in mine -- we fight, if needs be. Come, what / is a great fight-word? -- "Lebanon? " (My / daughter -- my daughter! ) -- But is Khalil to / have the office of Hamza? -- Nay, rather, if he / be wise, the monopoly of henna and cloves. / Where is Hakeem? -- The only prophet I ever / saw, prophesied at Cairo once, in my youth: a / little black Copht, dressed all in black too, / with a great stripe of yellow cloth flapping / down behind him like the back-fin of a water-serpent. / Is this he? Biamrallah! Biamreh! / HAKEEM!