That's what I am, Basha, and have long been, shame upon me! And while I am down yonder in the streets among your people--hated, reviled, despised, spat upon, cut off--you are up here in the Kasbah above them, in honour and comfort and wealth, and the mistaken love of all men." While Israel said this, Ben Aboo in his fury came down upon him from the opposite side of the patio with a look of a beast of prey.

His swarthy cheeks were drawn hard, his little bleared eyes flashed, his heavy nose and thick lips and massive jaw quivered visibly, and from under his turban two locks of iron-grey fell like a shaggy mane over his ears.
But Israel did not flinch.

With a look of quiet majesty, standing face to face with the tyrant, not a foot's length between them, he spoke again and said, "Basha, I do not envy you, but neither will I share your business nor your rewards.

I mean to be your scapegoat no more.

Here is your seal.