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rubaiyaat
, stimulated, we must believe, by the outstanding quality of
Merv’s vineyards.
For all that, there was evidently a negative side. Omar was obliged to be
present at endless palace ceremonies and to pay homage solemnly to the
sovereign at each feast, whenever a prince was circumcised, upon the
sovereign’s return from the hunt or the country, and to be in frequent attendance
at the 
diwan
, ready to utter a witticism, a quotation or a fitting verse. These

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sessions exhausted Omar. As well as the impression of having put on the skin of
a performing bear, he was always aware of losing precious time at the palace
which he could have turned to better use at his work table, not to mention the
risk of unpleasant encounters.
Like the one which took place that cold February day, when someone picked
a memorable quarrel with him over a youthful quatrain which had fallen into
jealous ears. That day the 
diwan
was packed with beturbaned intellectuals and
the monarch was overjoyed as he blissfully contemplated his court.
When Omar arrived, debate was already raging on a subject which fascinated
the men of religion: ‘Could the universe have been created better?’ Those who
replied ‘yes’ laid themselves open to accusation of impiety since they implied
that God had not taken sufficient care over his work.
Those who replied ‘no’ were also open to accusation of impiety, as they were
giving to understand that the Almighty was incapable of doing better.
They were in hot discussion, with much gesticulating. Khayyam was happy
absent-mindedly to watch everyone’s expressions. However a speaker called
him, heaped praise upon his erudition and asked for his opinion. Omar cleared
his throat. He had not yet uttered a single syllable when the grand 
qadi
of Merv,
who had never appreciated Khayyam’s presence in his city, nor the
considerations constantly shown to him, jumped up from his place and pointed
an accusing finger at him.
‘I did not know that an atheist could express opinions on the questions of our
faith!’
Omar gave a tired but worried smile.
‘Who gives you permission to treat me as an atheist? At least wait until you
have heard me out!’
‘I have no need to hear you. Is it not to you that this verse has been attributed:
“If You punish with evil the evil I have done, tell, what is the difference between
You and me?” Is not the man who puts forward such words an atheist?’
Omar shrugged.
‘If I did not believe that God existed, I would not address Him!’
‘But you would address him in that tone?’ sniggered the 
qadi
.
‘It is to sultans and 
qadis
that one must speak with circumlocution – not to
the Creator. God is great, he has nothing to do with our airs and graces. He made
me a thinker and so I think, and I give over to him the undiluted fruits of my
thought.’
To murmurs of approval from those present, the 
qadi
withdrew, uttering dire

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threats. When he had stopped laughing, the sovereign was beset with worry,
fearing the consequences in certain quarters. As his expression became gloomy
his visitors hurried to take their leave.
As he returned home accompanied by Vartan, Omar inveighed against court
life with its snares and time-wasting, promising himself that he would leave
Merv as soon as possible; his disciple was not too concerned as it was the
seventh time that his master had threatened to leave; as a rule, he was much
calmer the next day having taken up his research again, and that was the
appropriate time to console him.
That evening, back in his room, Omar wrote in his book a vexed quatrain
which ended as follows: