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Raimbaut was bitterly perturbed, though he did not know for what reason, as Makrisi led him through dark corridors to the dull-gleaming arras of Prince Guillaume's apartments. In this corridor was an iron lamp swung from the ceiling, and now, as this lamp swayed slightly and burned low, the tiny flame leaped clear of the wick and was extinguished, and darkness rose about them.
Another curious point I may mention in connection with these tombs is that the Arab historian, Yaqut, in his 'Mu'gam, tells us of a god in the Hadhramout, called Al Galsad, who was a gigantic man; perhaps this god may have some connection with the giant tombs of Saleh and Eber. Also Makrisi, who wrote in the tenth century, a.d., speaks of a giant's grave he saw near Shabwa.
Long, long ago, since I derived no benefit from love, I cried farewell to it." "Ay," said Makrisi. "Love makes a demi-god of all just for an hour. Such hours as follow we devote to the concoction of sleeping-draughts." He laughed, and very harshly. And Raimbaut did not sleep that night because this life of ours seemed such a piece of tangle-work as he had not the skill to unravel.
Early Arabian authors are far more explicit, and we gather from Makrisi, Ibn Khaldun, and others, something more definite about Dhofar and the frankincense trade, and of the prince of this district who had the monopoly of the trade, and punished its infringement with death. These writers, when compared with the classical ones, assist us greatly in identifying localities.
Philibert was drunk, and half the men-at-arms were snoring among the rushes, when at the height of their festivity Makrisi came. He plucked his master by the sleeve. A swarthy, bearded Angevin was singing. His song was one of old Sire Raimbaut's famous canzons in honor of Belhs Cavaliers.
Then on the walls were tapestries which depicted Merlin's Dream, so that everywhere recoiling women smiled with bold eyes; and here their wantonness seemed out of place. "Listen," Makrisi was saying; "listen, for the hour strikes. At last, at last!" he cried, with a shrill whine of malice. Raimbaut said, dully: "Oh, I do not understand "
"It is like Prince Guillaume, I think. What man will sorrow when dawn comes?" Raimbaut de Vaquieras replied: "Always dawn comes at last, Makrisi." "It comes the more quickly, messire, when it is prompted." The troubadour only smiled at words which seemed so meaningless. He did not smile when later in the night Makrisi brought Mahi de Vernoil, disguised as a mendicant friar.
Raimbaut foresaw what he must do. He clutched the dagger which Makrisi fondled. "Belhs Cavaliers, this fellow speaks the truth. Look now, the moon is old is it not strange to know it will outlive us?" And Biatritz came close to Sire Raimbaut and said: "I understand.
The freebooter growled curses as he went. On a sudden he whistled, like a person considering, and he began to chuckle. Raimbaut said, more lately: "Zoraida left no wholesome legacy in you, Makrisi."
He waited thus, with both hands pressed before his eyes. He waited thus for a long while, because he was not used to find chance dealing kindlily with him. Later he saw that Makrisi had vanished in the tumult, and that many people awaited his speaking. The lord of Venaissin began: "You have done me a great service, Messire de Vemoil. As recompense, I give you what I may.
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