XVII. GAMES…

XVII. GAMES

Most of the games of the Egyptians are of kinds which suit their sedate dispositions. They take great pleasure in chess (which they call “satreng”), draughts (“dámeh”), and trictrac or backgammon (“táwulah”). Their chess-men are of very simple forms; as the Muslim is forbidden, by his religion, to make an image of anything that has life. The Muslims of Egypt in general are, however, less scrupulous with regard to the prohibition of games of hazard: though some of them consider even chess and draughts as forbidden, games partly or wholly hazardous are very common among all ranks of this people: and scarcely less so is that of cards, which, being almost always played for money, or for some other stake, is particularly called, by way of distinction, “leab el-kumár,” “the game of hazard, or of gain.” Persons of the lower orders in the towns of Egypt are often seen playing at these and other games at the coffee-shops; but frequently for no greater stake than that of a few cups of coffee.

One of the games most common among the Egyptians is that of the “mankal′ah.” Two persons play at this, with a board (or two boards joined by hinges), in which are twelve hemispherical holes, called “buyoot,” or “beyts,” in two equal rows; and with seventy-two small shells, of the kind called cowries; or as many pebbles: these, whether shells or pebbles, are termed the “hasa” (in the singular, “hasweh”). To explain the game of the mankal′ah, I must distinguish the beyts of the board by letters, thus:—

The beyts marked A, B, C, D, E, F, belong to one party; and the opposite six beyts to the other. One of the parties, when they are about to play the game in the most simple manner (for there are two modes of playing it), distributes all the hasa unequally into the beyts; generally putting at least four into each beyt. If they were distributed equally, there would be six in each beyt; but this is seldom done: for, in this case, he who plays first is sure to lose. The act of distributing the hasa is called “tebweez.” When one party is dissatisfied with the other’s distribution of the hasa, he may turn the board round; and then his adversary begins the game; which is not the case otherwise. Supposing the party to whom belong the beyts A, B, C, D, E, F, commences the game, he takes the hasa from beyt F, and distributes them to the beyts a, b, c, etc., one to each beyt; and if there be enough to put in each of his adversary’s six beyts, and more remain in his hand, he proceeds in the same manner to distribute them to his own beyts, in the order A, B, C, etc.; and then, if he have still one or more remaining, to his adversary’s beyts, as before, and so on. If the last beyt into which he has put a hasweh contain but one (having been empty before he put that in; for it may have been left empty at the first), he ceases; and his adversary plays: but if it contain two or four, he takes its contents, with those of the beyt opposite; and if the last beyt contain two or four, and one or more of the preceding beyts also contain either of these numbers, no beyt with any other number intervening, he takes the contents of these preceding beyts also, with the contents of those opposite. If the last beyt into which he has put a hasweh contain (with this hasweh) three, or five, or more, he takes these out, and goes on distributing them in the same manner as before: for instance, if, in this case, the last beyt into which he has put a hasweh be D, he puts one from its contents into E, another into F, a third into a, and so on; and thus he continues, until making the last beyt to contain but one stops him, or making it to contain two or four brings him gain, and makes it his adversary’s turn to play. He always plays from beyt F, or, if that be empty, from the nearest beyt to it in his own row containing one or more haswehs. When one party has more than a single hasweh in one or more of his beyts, and the other has none, the former is obliged to put one of his into the first of his adversary’s beyts. If only one hasweh remain on one side, and none on the other, that one is the property of the person on whose side it is. When the board is completely cleared, each party counts the number of the hasa he has taken; and the one who has most reckons the excess of his above his adversary’s number as his gain. The gainer in one board begins to play the next board; his adversary having first distributed the hasa. When either party has made his successive gains amount to sixty, he has won the game.—In this manner, the game of the mankal′ah is played by young persons; and hence this mode of playing it is called “the game of the ignorant” (“leab el-ghasheem”): others generally play in a different manner, which is termed “the game of the wise, or intelligent” (“leab el-’ákil”), and which must now be described.

The hasa are distributed in one or more beyts on one side, and in the corresponding beyt or beyts on the other side; commonly in four beyts on each side, leaving the two extreme beyts of each side vacant: or they are distributed in any other conventional manner; as, for instance, about half into beyt A, and the remainder in beyt a. The person who distributes the hasa does not count how many he places in a beyt; and it is at his option whether he places them only in one beyt on each side, or in all the beyts. Should the other person object to his distribution, he may turn the board round; but in that case forfeits his right of playing first. The person who plays first may begin from any one of his beyts; judging by his eye which will bring him the best fortune. He proceeds in the same manner as before described; putting one hasweh in each beyt; and taking in the same cases as in the former mode; and then the other plays. After the first gain, he counts the hasa in each of his beyts; and plays from that which will bring him the greatest advantage. One of the parties may stop the other to count the hasa which he takes out of a beyt to distribute, in order to insure his distributing them correctly. The gain of one party after finishing one board is counted, as in the former mode, by the excess of the number he has taken above the number acquired by the other; and the first who makes his successive gains to amount to sixty, wins the game.—This game is of use in practising the players in calculation. It is very commonly played at the coffee-shops; and the players generally agree, though it is unlawful to do so, that the loser shall pay for the coffee drunk by himself and his adversary and the spectators, or for a certain number of cups.

Another game very general among the lower classes in Egypt is called “táb.” In other countries of the East this is called “táb wa-dukk;” but I never hear this name given to it in Egypt. In this country it is played in the following manner:—Four small pieces of stick, of a flat form, about a span (or eight inches) in length, and two-thirds of an inch in breadth, are first prepared: they are generally formed of a piece of palm-branch; one side of which, being cut flat and smooth, is white; the other, green, or, if not fresh, of a dull yellow colour; the former side is commonly called white, and the other black. These are called the “táb.” Next, it is necessary to be provided with a “seega.” This is a board, divided into four rows of squares, called “beyts” or “dárs,” each about two inches wide; or it consists of similar rows of holes made in the ground, or in a flat stone: the beyts are usually seven, nine, eleven, thirteen, or fifteen, in each row. To show the mode of playing the game, I shall here represent a seega of nine beyts in each row; and distinguish the beyts by letters.

┌───┬───┬───┬───┬───┬───┬───┬───┬───┐ │i│h│g│f│e│d│c│b│a│ ├───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┤ │k│l│m│n│o│p│q│r│s│ ├───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┤ │ S │ R │ Q │ P │ O │ N │ M │ L │ K │ ├───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┼───┤ │ A │ B │ C │ D │ E │ F │ G │ H │ I │ └───┴───┴───┴───┴───┴───┴───┴───┴───┘

In each beyt of one exterior row is usually placed a little piece of stone, or dingy brick, about the size of a walnut; and in each beyt of the other exterior row, a piece of red brick or tile. Or, sometimes, pieces are placed only in a certain number of beyts in those rows; as, for instance, in the first four. The pieces of one row must be distinguished from those in the other. They are called “kiláb” (or dogs); in the singular, “kelb.” The game is generally played by two persons. The four little sticks are thrown, all together, against a stick thrust into the ground or held in the hand with one end resting on the ground, or against a wall, or against a stick inclined against a wall. If they fall so that one only has its white side upwards, the player is said to have thrown, or brought, “táb” (plural “teeb”), or a “weled” (or child, plural “wilád”), and counts one: if there be two white, and the other two black, he counts two (“itneyn”): if there be three white, and one black, he counts three (“teláteh”): if all four be white, four (“arba’′ah”): if all four black, six (“sitteh”). When one throws táb, or four, or six, he throws again; but when he has thrown two, or three, it is then the turn of the other. To one of the players belongs the row of beyts A, B, C, etc.: to the other, that of a, b, c, etc. They first throw alternately until one has thrown táb; and he who has done this then throws again until he has brought two, or three. Supposing him, at the beginning of the game, to have thrown táb and four and two, he removes the kelb from beyt I, and places it in the seventh beyt from I, which is Q. He must always commence with the kelb in beyt I. The other party, in like manner, commences from beyt i. Neither party can remove a kelb from its original place but by throwing táb before each such removal. The kelbs before removal from their original places are called “Nasára” (or Christians, in the singular “Nasránee”); and after removal, when they are privileged to commence the contest, “Muslimeen” (or “Muslims”): when a person has made a kelb a Muslim, it is said of him “sellem kelb;” and of the kelb, “aslam.” Each time that a player throws táb, he generally makes a kelb Muslim, until he has made them all so, and thus prepared them to circulate in the beyts. Each player may have two or more kelbs in circulation at the same time. Let us suppose (to make the description more simple) that the person to whom belongs the row of beyts A, B, C, etc., is circulating a single kelb: he moves it through the two middle rows of beyts in the order of the letters by which I have distinguished them, from K to S, and from k to s; and may then either repeat the same round or enter his adversary’s row, as long as there is any kelb remaining in that row; but in the latter case, he does not continue to circulate the same kelb, excepting under circumstances which will be mentioned hereafter. Whenever a throw, or any of two or more throws, which the player has made enables him to move his kelb into a beyt occupied by one of his opponent’s kelbs, he takes the latter. For instance, if one party has a kelb in the beyt m, and the other has one in o, and another in s, and the former has thrown táb (or one) and then four, and then two, he may take the kelb in o by the throw of two; then, by the throw of four, take that in s; and, by the throw of táb, pass into a, and take a third kelb if it contain one. A player may, by means of a suitable throw, or two or more throws, move one of his kelbs into a beyt occupied by another of his own; and these two together, in like manner, he may add to a third, or he may add a third to them: thus he may unite any number of his own kelbs, and circulate them together, as if they were but one; but he cannot divide them again, and play with them separately, unless he throw táb. If he avail himself of a throw which he has made to bring them back into a row through which they have already passed (either separately or together), they become reduced to a single kelb: but he need not avail himself of such a throw: he may wait until he throws táb. Two or more kelbs thus united are called an “’eggeh.” The object of so uniting them is to place them as soon as possible in a situation of safety, as will be seen by what immediately follows. If either party pass one of his kelbs into his adversary’s row, he may leave it there in safety as long as he does not want to continue to play with it, because the latter cannot bring back a kelb into his own row. The former, however, cannot continue to circulate the kelb which has entered that row until he has no kelb remaining in his own row; or unless he have only an ’eggeh in his row, and does not throw táb, which alone enables him to divide the ’eggeh. In circulating through his adversary’s beyts, he proceeds in the order of the letters by which I have marked them. He cannot pass the same kelb again into his adversary’s row: after it has passed through that row, he circulates it through the two middle rows only, in the same manner as at first.—This game is often played by four or more persons, and without the seega. When one person throws four, he is called the Sultán. He holds a makra’′ah, which is a piece of the thick end of a palm-stick, with two or three splits made in the thicker part of it. When a player throws six, he is called the Wezeer, and holds the stick against which the táb are thrown. Whenever a person throws two, the Sultán gives him a blow, or two or more blows (as many as the Wezeer may order), on the sole of his foot, or the soles of both feet, with the makra’′ah. When a player throws twice six, he is both Sultán and Wezeer.

Many of the felláheen of Egypt also frequently amuse themselves with a game called that of the “seega,” which may be described in a few words. The seega employed in this game is different from that of the táb: it consists of a number of holes, generally made in the ground; most commonly, of five rows of five holes in each, or seven rows of seven in each, or nine rows of nine in each: the first kind is called the “khamsáwee seega;” the second, the “seb’áwee;” and the third, the “tis’áwee.” A khamsáwee seega is here represented.

The holes are called “’oyoon” (or eyes, in the singular “’eyn”). In this seega, they are twenty-five in number. The players have each twelve “kelbs,” similar to those used in the game of the táb.[447] One of them places two of his kelbs in the ’eyns marked a, a: the other puts two of his in those marked b, b: they then alternately place two kelbs in any of the ’eyns that they may choose, excepting the central ’eyn of the seega. All the ’eyns but the central one being thus occupied (most of the kelbs placed at random), the game is commenced. The party who begins moves one of his kelbs from a contiguous ’eyn into the central. The other party, if the ’eyn now made vacant be not next to any one of those occupied by his kelbs, desires his adversary to give him, or open to him, a way; and the latter must do so, by removing, and thus losing, one of his own kelbs. This is also done on subsequent occasions, when required by similar circumstances. The aim of each party, after the first disposal of the kelbs, is to place any one of his kelbs in such a situation that there shall be, between it and another of his, one of his adversary’s kelbs. This, by so doing, he takes; and as long as he can immediately make another capture by such means, he does so, without allowing his adversary to move.—These are the only rules of the game. It will be remarked that, though most of the kelbs are placed at random, foresight is requisite in the disposal of the remainder.—Several seegas have been cut upon the stones on the summit of the great pyramid, by Arabs who have served as guides to travellers.

Gymnastic games, or such diversions as require much bodily exertion, are very uncommon among the Egyptians. Sometimes two peasants contend with each other, for mere amusement, or for a trifling wager or reward, with “nebboots,” which are thick staves, five or six feet long: the object of each is to strike his adversary on the head. The nebboot is a formidable weapon, and is often seen in the hand of an Egyptian peasant: he often carries it when on a journey; particularly when he travels by night; which, however, is seldom the case. Wrestling-matches are also sometimes witnessed in Egypt: the combatants (who are called “musáre’een,” in the singular “musáre’”) strip themselves of all their clothing excepting their drawers, and generally oil their bodies; but their exercises are not remarkable, and are seldom performed but for remuneration, on the occasions of festivals, processions, etc.—On such occasions, too, mock combats between two men, usually clad only in their drawers, and each armed with a sabre and a small shield, are not unfrequently witnessed: neither attempts to wound his adversary: every blow is received on the shield.

The game of the “gereed,” as played by the Memlooks and Turkish soldiers, has often been described; but the manner in which it is practised by many of the peasants of Upper Egypt is much more worthy of description. It is often played by the latter on the occasion of the marriage of a person of influence, such as the sheykh of a tribe or village; or on that of a circumcision; or when a votive calf or ox or bull, which has been let loose to pasture where it will, by common consent, is about to be sacrificed at the tomb of a saint, and a public feast made with its meat. The combatants usually consist of two parties, of different villages, or of different tribes or branches of a tribe; each party about twelve or twenty or more in number; and each person mounted on a horse or mare. The two parties station themselves about five hundred feet or more apart. A person from one party gallops towards the other party, and challenges them: one of the latter, taking, in his left hand, four, five, six, or more gereeds, each six feet, or an inch or two more or less, in length, but generally equal in length to the height of a tall man, and very heavy (being the lower part of the palm-stick, freshly cut, and full of sap), pursues the challenger at full gallop: he approaches him as near as possible—often within arm’s length; and throws, at his head or back, one gereed after another, until he has none left. The gereed is blunt at both ends. It is thrown with the small end foremost, and with uplifted arm; and sometimes inflicts terrible, and even fatal, wounds.[448] The person against whom the gereeds are thrown endeavours to catch them, or to ward them off with his arm or with a sheathed sword; or he escapes them by the superior speed of his horse. Having sustained the attack, and arrived at the station of his party, he tries his skill against the person by whom he has been pursued, in the same manner as the latter did against him.—This sport, which reminds us of the tournaments of old, and which was a game of the early Bedawees, continues for several hours. It is common only among those tribes who have not been many years, or not more than a few centuries, settled on the banks of the Nile; and who have consequently retained many Bedawee customs and habits. About the close of the period of my former visit to this country, three men and a mare were killed at this game within an hour, in the western plain of Thebes. It is seldom, however, that a man loses his life in this exercise: at least, of late, I have heard of no such occurrence taking place.—In Lower Egypt, a gereed only half the length of those above described, or little more, is used in playing this game.

Other exercises, which are less frequently performed, and only at festivals for the amusement of the spectators, will be described in subsequent pages.

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Footnote 447:

The larger seegas, in like manner, require a sufficient number of kelbs to occupy all the ’eyns excepting one.

Footnote 448:

During my last residence at Thebes, a fine athletic man, the best gereed-player of the place, whom I had taken into my service as a nightly guard, received a very severe wound at this game; and I had some difficulty to effect a cure: he was delirious for many hours in consequence of it, and had nearly lost his life. The gereed struck him a little before his ear, and penetrated downwards into his neck.

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XVIII. MUSIC

The Egyptians in general are excessively fond of music; and yet they regard the study of this fascinating art (like dancing) as unworthy to employ any portion of the time of a man of sense; and as exercising too powerful an effect upon the passions, and leading a man into gaiety and dissipation and vice. Hence it was condemned by the Prophet: but it is used, notwithstanding, even in religious ceremonies; especially by the darweeshes. The Egyptians have very few books on music; and these are not understood by their modern musicians. The natural liking of the Egyptians for music is shown by their habit of regulating their motions, and relieving the dulness of their occupations, in various labours, by songs or chants. Thus do the boatmen, in rowing, etc.; the peasants in raising water; the porters in carrying heavy weights with poles; men, boys, and girls, in assisting builders, by bringing bricks, stones, and mortar, and removing rubbish: so also, the sawyers, reapers, and many other labourers. Though the music of the Egyptians is of a style very difficult for foreigners to acquire or imitate, the children very easily and early attain it. The practice of chanting the Kur-án, which is taught in all their schools, contributes to increase their natural fondness for music.

How science was cherished by the Arabs when all the nations of Europe were involved in the grossest ignorance, and how much the former profited by the works of ancient Greek writers, is well known. It appears that they formed the system of music which has prevailed among them for many centuries partly from Greek, and partly from Persian and Indian treatises. From the Greek language are derived the most general Arabic term for music, namely, “mooseeka,” and the names of some of the Arab musical instruments; but most of the technical terms used by the Arab musicians are borrowed from the Persian and Indian languages. There is a striking degree of similarity between many of the airs which I have heard in Egypt and some of the popular melodies of Spain;[449] and it is not surprising that this is the case: for music was much cultivated among the Arabs of Spain; and the library of the Escurial contains many Arabic treatises on this art.

The most remarkable peculiarity in the Arab system of music is the division of tones into thirds. Hence I have heard Egyptian musicians urge against the European systems of music that they are deficient in the number of sounds. These small and delicate gradations of sound give a peculiar softness to the performances of the Arab musicians, which are generally of a plaintive character: but they are difficult to discriminate with exactness, and are therefore seldom observed in the vocal and instrumental music of those persons who have not made a regular study of the art. Most of the popular airs of the Egyptians, though of a similar character, in most respects, to the music of their professional performers, are very simple; consisting of only a few notes, which serve for every one or two lines of a song, and which are therefore repeated many times. I must confess that I generally take great delight in the more refined kind of music which I occasionally hear in Egypt; and the more I become habituated to the style, the more I am pleased with it; though, at the same time, I must state that I have not met with many Europeans who enjoy it in the same degree as myself. The natives of Egypt are generally enraptured with the performances of their vocal and instrumental musicians: they applaud with frequent exclamations of “Allah!”[450] and “God approve thee!” “God preserve thy voice!” and similar expressions.

The male professional musicians are called “A′láteeyeh;” in the singular, “A′látee,” which properly signifies “a player upon an instrument;” but they are generally both instrumental and vocal performers. They are people of very dissolute habits; and are regarded as scarcely less disreputable characters than the public dancers. They are, however, hired at most grand entertainments, to amuse the company; and on these occasions they are usually supplied with brandy, or other spirituous liquors, which they sometimes drink until they can neither sing nor strike a chord. The sum commonly paid to each of them for one night’s performance is equal to about two or three shillings; but they often receive considerably more. The guests generally contribute the sum.

There are also female professional singers. These are called “’Awálim;” in the singular, “’A′l’meh,” or “’A′limeh;” an appellation literally signifying “a learned female.” The ’Awálim are often hired on the occasion of a fête in the hareem of a person of wealth. There is generally a small, elevated apartment, called a “tukeyseh,” or “mughanna,” adjoining the principal saloon of the hareem, from which it is separated only by a screen of wooden lattice-work; or there is some other convenient place in which the female singers may be concealed from the sight of the master of the house, should he be present with his women. But when there is a party of male guests, they generally sit in the court, or in a lower apartment, to hear the songs of the ’Awálim, who, in this case, usually sit at a window of the hareem, concealed by the lattice-work. Some of them are also instrumental performers. I have heard the most celebrated ’Awálim in Cairo, and have been more charmed with their songs than with the best performances of the A′láteeyeh, and more so, I think I may truly add, than with any other music that I have ever enjoyed. They are often very highly paid. I have known instances of sums equal to more than fifty guineas being collected for a single ’A’l’meh from the guests at an entertainment in the house of a merchant, where none of the contributors were persons of much wealth. So powerful is the effect of the singing of a very accomplished ’A′l’meh, that her audience, in the height of their excitement, often lavish upon her sums which they can ill afford to lose. There are, among the ’Awálim in Cairo, a few who are not altogether unworthy of the appellation of “learned females;” having some literary accomplishments. There are also many of an inferior class, who sometimes dance in the hareem: hence, travellers have often misapplied the name of “almé,” meaning “’ál’meh,” to the common dancing-girls, of whom an account will be given in another chapter of this work.

The Egyptians have a great variety of musical instruments. Those which are generally used at private concerts are the “kemengeh,” “kánoon,” “’ood,” and “náy.”

The “kemengeh”[451] is a kind of viol. Its name, which is Persian, and more properly written “kemángeh,” signifies “a bow-instrument.” This instrument, and all the others of which I insert engravings, I have drawn with the camera-lucida. The total length of the kemengeh which is here represented is thirty-eight inches. The sounding-body is a cocoa-nut, of which about a fourth part has been cut off. It is pierced with many small holes. Over the front of it is strained a piece of the skin of a fish of the genus “silurus,” called “bayád;” and upon this rests the bridge. The neck is of ebony inlaid with ivory; and of a cylindrical form. At the bottom of it is a piece of ivory; and the head, in which the pegs are inserted, is also of ivory. The pegs are of beech; and their heads, of ivory. The foot is of iron: it passes through the sounding-body, and is inserted into the neck, to the depth of four or five inches. Each of the two chords consists of about sixty horse-hairs: at the lower end, they are attached to an iron ring, just below the sounding-body: towards the other extremity, each is lengthened with a piece of lamb’s gut, by which it is attached to its peg. Over the chords, a little below their junction with the gut-strings, a double band of leather is tied, passing round the neck of the instrument. The bow is thirty-four inches and a half in length. Its form is shown by the engraving. The stick is generally of ash. The horse-hairs, passed through a hole at the head of the bow-stick and secured by a knot, and attached at the other end to an iron ring, are tightened or slackened by a band of leather which passes through the ring just mentioned and through another ring at the foot of the bow. A performer on the kemengeh, in passing the bow from one chord to the other, turns the kemengeh about sixty degrees round. The sketches introduced, are from drawings which I have made with the camera-lucida. Together, they represent an ordinary Egyptian band, such as is generally seen at a private entertainment. The performer on the kemengeh usually sits on the right hand of him who performs on the kánoon, or opposite (that is, facing) the latter, on the left hand of whom sits the performer on the ’ood; and next to this last is the performer on the náy. Sometimes there are other musicians, whose instruments will be mentioned hereafter; and often two singers.

The “kánoon” is a kind of dulcimer. Its name is from the Greek κανὼν, or from the same origin; and has the same signification; that is, “rule,” “law,” “custom.” The instrument from which the engraving here given was taken is, perhaps, an inch or two longer than some others which I have seen. Its greatest length is thirty-nine inches and three-quarters; and its breadth, sixteen inches: its depth is two inches and one-tenth. The kánoon is sometimes made entirely of walnut-wood, with the exception of some ornamental parts. In the instrument which I have drawn, the face and the back are of a fine kind of deal: the sides are of beech. The piece in which the pegs are inserted is of beech: and so also is the ridge along its interior edge, through which the cords are passed. The pegs are of poplar-wood. The bridge is of fine deal. In the central part of the face of the instrument is a circular piece of wood of a reddish colour, pierced with holes; and towards the acute angle of the face is another piece of similar wood, likewise pierced with holes. In that part of the face upon which the bridge rests are five oblong apertures, corresponding with the five feet of the bridge. A piece of fishes’ skin nine inches wide is glued over this part; and the five feet of the bridge rest upon those parts of the skin which cover the five apertures above mentioned; slightly depressing the skin. The chords are of lamb’s gut. There are three chords to each note; and, altogether, twenty-four treble chords. The shortest side of the instrument is veneered with walnut-wood, inlaid with mother-of-pearl. The instrument is played with two plectra; one plectrum attached to the fore-finger of each hand. Each plectrum is a small, thin piece of buffalo’s horn; and is placed between the finger and a ring, or thimble, formed of a flat piece of brass or silver, in the manner represented in the sketch.—The instrument is placed on the knees of the performer. Under the hands of a skilful player, the kánoon pleases me more than any other Egyptian instrument without an accompaniment; and to a band it is an important accession.

The “’ood” is a lute, which is played with a plectrum. This has been for many centuries the instrument most commonly used by the best Arab musicians, and is celebrated by numerous poets. Its name (the original signification of which is “wood”), with the article el prefixed to it, is the source whence are derived the terms liuto in Italian, luth in French, lute in English, etc. The length of the ’ood, as represented in the middle of the accompanying engraving, measuring from the button, or angle of the neck, is twenty-five inches and a half. The body of it is composed of fine deal, with edges, etc., of ebony: the neck of ebony, faced with box and an ebony edge. On the face of the body of the instrument, in which are one large and two small shemsehs of ebony, is glued a piece of fishes’ skin, under that part of the chords to which the plectrum is applied, to prevent the wood from being worn away by the plectrum. The instrument has seven double strings; two to each note. They are of lamb’s gut. The order of these double chords is singular: the double chord of the lowest note is that which corresponds to the chord of the highest note in our violins, etc.: next in the scale above this is the fifth (that is, counting the former as the first): then the seventh, second, fourth, sixth, and third. The plectrum is a slip of a vulture’s feather.

The “náy,” which is the fourth and last of the instruments which I have mentioned as most commonly used at private concerts, is a kind of flute. There are several kinds of náy, differing from each other in dimensions, but in little else. The most common is that here represented. It has been called the darweesh’s flute; because often used at the zikrs of darweeshes to accompany the songs of the “munshids.” It is a simple reed, about eighteen inches in length, seven-eighths of an inch in diameter at the upper extremity, and three-quarters of an inch at the lower. It is pierced with six holes in front, and generally with another hole at the back. The sounds are produced by blowing, through a very small aperture of the lips, against the edge of the orifice of the tube, and directing the wind chiefly within the tube. By blowing with more or less force, sounds are produced an octave higher or lower. In the hands of a good performer, the náy yields fine, mellow tones; but it requires much practice to sound it well. A náy is sometimes made of a portion of a gun-barrel.

Another instrument often used at private concerts is a small tambourine called “rikk,” similar to one of which an engraving will be found in this chapter, page 330, but rather smaller.

A kind of mandoline, called “tamboor,” is also used at concerts in Egypt; but mostly by Greeks and other foreigners. These musicians likewise use a dulcimer, called “santeer,” which resembles the kánoon, excepting that it has two sides oblique, instead of one (the two opposite sides equally inclining together), has double chords of wire, instead of treble chords of lamb’s gut, and is beaten with two sticks instead of the little plectra.

A curious kind of viol, called “rabáb,” is much used by poor singers, as an accompaniment to the voice. There are two kinds of viol which bear this name; the “rabáb el-mughannee” (or singers’ viol), and the “rabáb esh-shá’er” (or poet’s viol); which differ from each other only in this, that the former has two chords, and the latter but one. The latter is that of which I give an engraving; but it will be observed that it is convertible into the former kind, having two pegs. It is thirty-two inches in length. The body of it is a frame of wood, of which the front is covered with parchment, and the back uncovered. The foot is of iron: the chord of horse-hairs, like those of the kemengeh. The bow, which is twenty-eight inches long, is similar to that of the kemengeh. This instrument is always used by the public reciters of the romance of Aboo-Zeyd, in chanting the poetry. The reciter of this romance is called “Shá’er” (or poet); and hence the instrument is called “the poet’s viol,” and “the Aboo-Zeydee viol.” The Shá’er himself uses this instrument; and another performer on the same kind of rabáb generally accompanies him.

The instruments used in wedding-processions, and the processions of darweeshes, etc., are chiefly a hautboy, called “zemr,” and several kinds of drums, of which the most common kinds are the “tabl beledee” (or country drum, that is Egyptian drum), and the “tabl Shámee” (or Syrian drum). The former is of a similar kind to our common military drum; but not so deep. It is hung obliquely. The latter is a kind of kettle-drum, of tin-copper, with a parchment face. It is generally about sixteen inches in diameter, and not more than four in depth in the centre; and is beaten with two slender sticks. The performer suspends it to his neck, by a string attached to two rings fixed to the edge of the instrument. I have represented these drums in the sketch of a bridal procession, and in another engraving opposite page 48.

A pair of large kettle-drums, called “nakákeer” (in the singular, “nakkárah”), are generally seen in most of the great religious processions connected with the pilgrimage, etc., in Cairo. They are both of copper, and similar in form; each about two-thirds of a sphere; but are of unequal dimensions: the flat surface, or face, of the larger is about two feet, or more, in diameter; and that of the latter, nearly a foot and a half. They are placed upon a camel, attached to the fore part of the saddle, upon which the person who beats them rides. The larger is placed on the right.

Darweeshes, in religious processions, etc., and in begging, often make use of a little tabl, or kettle-drum, called “báz,” six or seven inches in diameter; which is held in the left hand, by a little projection in the centre of the back; and beaten by the right hand, with a short leather strap, or a stick. They also use cymbals, which are called “kás,” on similar occasions. The báz is used by the Musahhir, to attract attention to his cry in the nights of Ramadán. Castanets of brass, called “ságát,” are used by the public female and male dancers. Each dancer has two pairs of these instruments. They are attached, each by a loop of string, to the thumb and second finger; and have a more pleasing sound than castanets of wood or ivory.

There are two instruments which are generally found in the hareem of a person of moderate wealth, and which the women often use for their diversion. One of these is a tambourine, called “tár,” of which I insert an engraving. It is eleven inches in diameter. The hoop is overlaid with mother-of-pearl, tortoise-shell, and white bone, or ivory, both without and within; and has ten double circular plates of brass attached to it; each two pairs having a wire passing through their centres. The tár is held by the left or right hand, and beaten with the fingers of that hand, and by the other hand. The fingers of the hand which holds the instrument, striking only near the hoop, produce higher sounds than the other hand, which strikes in the centre.—A tambourine of a larger and more simple kind than that here described, without the metal plates, is often used by the lower orders.—The other instrument alluded to in the commencement of this paragraph is a kind of drum, called “darabukkeh.” The best kind is made of wood, covered with mother-of-pearl and tortoise-shell, etc. One of this description is here represented with the tár. It is fifteen inches in length; covered with a piece of fishes’ skin at the larger extremity, and open at the smaller. It is placed under the left arm; generally suspended by a string that passes over the left shoulder; and is beaten with both hands. Like the tár, it yields different sounds when beaten near the edge and in the middle. A more common kind of darabukkeh is made of earth, and differs a little in form from that just described. An engraving of it is here given.

1 AND 2. EARTHEN DARABUKKEH. 5. MOUTH-PIECE OF THE LATTER.

3 AND 4. ZUMMÁRAH. 6. ARGHOOL.

The Zummárah is 14 inches long; the Arghool, 3 feet 2½ inches.

The boatmen of the Nile very often use an earthen darabukkeh; but of a larger size than that used in hareems: generally from a foot and a half to two feet in length. This is also used by some low story-tellers and others. The boatmen employ, as an accompaniment to their earthen drum, a double reed pipe, called “zummárah.”[452] There is also another kind of double reed pipe, called “arghool;” of which one of the reeds is much longer than the other, and serves as a drone, or continuous bass.[453] This, likewise, is used by boatmen; and sometimes it is employed, instead of the náy, at zikrs. Both of these reed pipes produce harsh sounds; and those of the latter much resemble the sounds of the bag-pipe. A rude kind of bag-pipe (“zummárah bi-soan”) is sometimes, but rarely, seen in Egypt: its bag is a small goat’s-skin.

I shall now close this chapter with a few specimens of Egyptian music; chiefly popular songs. These I note in accordance with the manner in which they are commonly sung; without any of the embellishments which are added to them by the A′láteeyeh. The airs of these are not always sung to the same words; but the words are generally similar in style to those which I insert, or at least as silly; though often abounding with indecent metaphors, or with plain ribaldry.—It should be added, that distinct enunciation, and a quavering voice, are characteristics of the Egyptian mode of singing.

SONGS.

No. 1.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Doos yá lel - lee Doos yá le - l - lee. Doos yá lel - lee Doos yá le - - - - l- lee. ’Eshkë mah - boo - bee fe - te - n - nee.

“Doos[454] yá lellee. Doos yá lellee (three times). ’Eshkë[455] mahboobee fetennee.”

Tread![456] O my joy![457] Tread! O my joy! (three times). Ardent desire of my beloved hath involved me in trouble.

(The preceding lines are repeated after each of the following stanzas, sometimes as a chorus.)

“Má[458] kullu men námet ’oyoonuh Yahsib el-’áshik yenám.[459] Wa-lláh ana mughram sabábeh. Lem ’ala-l-’áshik melám.”

Let not every one whose eyes sleep Imagine that the lover sleepeth. By Allah! I am inflamed with intense love. The lover is not obnoxious to blame.

“Yá Sheykh el-’Arab: Yá Seyyid: Tegmaanee ’a-l-khilli leyleh. Wa-n gánee habeebë kalbee La-amal lu-l Kashmeer dulleyleh.”

O Sheykh of the Arabs! O Seyyid![460] Unite me to the true love one night! And if the beloved of my heart come to me I will make the Kashmeer shawl her canopy.

“Kámil el-owsáf fetennee Wa-l-’oyoon es-sood ramoonee Min häwáhum sirt aghannee Wa-l-häwa zowwad gunoonee.”

The perfect in attributes hath involved me in trouble, And the black eyes have o’erthrown me. From love of them I began to sing, And the air[461] increased my madness.

“Gema’om gem’ al-’awázil ’An habeebee yemna’oonee. Wa-lláh ana má afoot háwáhum Bi-s-suyoof low katta’oonee.”

The crew of reproachers leagued together To debar me from my beloved. By Allah! I will not relinquish the love of them,[462] Though they should cut me in pieces with swords.

“Kum bi-në yá khillë neskar Tahta dill el-yásameeneh: Nektuf el-khókh min ’ala ummuh Wa-l-’awázil gháfileenë.”

Up with us! O true love! Let us intoxicate ourselves[463] Under the shade of the jasmine: We will pluck the peach from its mother [tree] While the reproachers are unconscious.

“Yá benát goowa-l-medeeneh ’Andakum ashya temeeneh: Telbisu-sh-sháteh bi-loolee Wa-l-kiládeh ’a-n-nehdi zeeneh.”

O ye damsels in the city![464] Ye have things of value: Ye wear the sháteh[465] with pearls, And the kiládeh,[466] an ornament over the bosom.

“Yá benát Iskendereeyeh Meshyukum ’a-l-farshi gheeyeh: Telbisu-l-Kashmeer bi-tellee Wa-sh-shefáif sukkareeyeh.”

O ye damsels of Alexandria! Your walk over the furniture[467] is alluring: Ye wear the Kashmeer shawl, with lama, And your lips are sweet as sugar.

“Yá miláh kháfoo min Allah Wa-rhamu-l-’áshik li-llah. Hobbukum mektoob min Allah: Kaddaru-l-Mowla ’aleiya.”

O ye beauties! fear God, And have mercy on the lover for the sake of God. The love of you is ordained by God: The Lord hath decreed it against me.

No. 2.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Ya - bu - - l - ge - - l - - fee. Ya- bu - l - ge l fee. Ráh e - l - mah- boo - b má ’ád wi - l - fee.

“Ya-bu-l-gelfee. Ya-bu-l-gelfee. Ráh el-mahboob: má ’ád wilfee.”

O thou in the long-sleeved yelek! O thou in the long-sleeved yelek! The beloved is gone: my companion has not returned.

“Ráh el-mirsál wa-lem gáshee: Wa-’eyn el-hobb bi-teráshee. Ya-bu-l-gálif. Ya-bu-l-gelfee. Yá reyt’në ma-nshebeknáshee. Ya-bu-l-gelfee, etc.”

The messenger went, and has not returned: And the eye of love is glancing. O thou with the side-lock![468] O thou in the long-sleeved yelek! Would that we had not been ensnared! O thou in the long-sleeved yelek, etc.

“Wa-ley yá ’eyn shebekteenë Wa-bi-l-alház garahteenë. Ya-bu-l-gálif. Ya-bu-l-gelfee. Bi-lláhi rikk wa-shfeenë. Ya-bu-l-gelfee, etc.”

And why, O eye! hast thou ensnared us? And with glances wounded us? O thou with the side-lock! O thou in the long-sleeved yelek! By Allah! have compassion, and heal us. O thou in the long-sleeved yelek! etc.

“Askamten′ee yá habeebee: Wa-má kasdee illa tibbak. ’Asák yá bedrë terhamnee: Fa-inna kalbee yehebbak. Ya-bu-l-wardee. Ya-bu-l-wardee. Habeebë kalbee khaleek ’andee.”

Thou hast made me ill, O my beloved! And my desire is for nothing but thy medicine. Perhaps, O full moon! thou wilt have mercy upon me: For verily my heart loveth thee. O thou in the rose-coloured dress! O thou in the rose-coloured dress! Beloved of my heart! remain with me.

“De-l-hobbë gánee yet’máyal: Wa-sukrë hálee gufoonuh. Meddeyt eedee akhud el-kás: Sekirt ana min ’oyoonuh. Ya-bu-l-wardee, etc.”

The beloved came to me with a vacillating gait; And her eyelids were the cause of my intoxication. I extended my hand to take the cup; And was intoxicated by her eyes. O thou in the rose-coloured dress! etc.

No. 3.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Má marr wa - sa - ká - nee ha - bee - bee suk - kar. Nusf el - la - yá - lee ’a-l - mu - dá - meh ne - s - kar.

“Má marr wa-sakánee habeebee sukkar. Nusf el-läyálee ’a-l-mudámeh neskar. Nedren ’aleiya wa-n ata mahboobee La-amal ’amáyil má ’amilhásh ’Antar.”

My love passed not, but gave me sherbet of sugar to drink. For half the nights we will intoxicate ourselves with wine. I vow that, if my beloved come, I will do deeds that ’Antar did not.

“Yá bintë melesik dáb wa-bent[469] eedeyke[470] Wa-kháf ’aleykee min säwád ’eyneykee. Kasdee ana askar wa-boos khaddeykee Wa-amal ’amáyil mi ’amilhásh ’Antar.”

O damsel! thy silk shirt is worn out, and thine arms have become visible, And I fear for thee, on account of the blackness of thine eyes. I desire to intoxicate myself, and kiss thy cheeks, And do deeds that ’Antar did not.

“Fáïteh ’aleiya máliya-l-argeeleh: Wa-meiyet[471] el-má-wardë fi-l-argeeleh. Ata-bi-l-buneiyeh ’ámiláha heeleh. Meta tekul-lee ta’ál yá geda neskar.”

She is passing by me, and filling the argeeleh;[472] And there is rose-water in the argeeleh. It seems to me the little lass is framing to herself some artifice. When will she say to me, “O youth! come, and let us intoxicate ourselves”?

“Tool el-layálee lem yenkat′a’ noohee ’Ala ghazal mufrad wa-khad roohee. Nedren ’aleiya wa-n ata mahboobee La-amal ’amáyil má ’amilhásh ’Antar.”

Every night long my moaning ceaseth not For a solitary gazelle that hath taken away my soul. I vow that, if my beloved come, I will do deeds that ’Antar did not.

“Yá dema ’eynee ’a-l-khudeyd men hallak: Kal-lee bi-zeedak shok ’ala bo’ádi khillak. Irham muteiyam yá gemeel mashghul-bak. Taama ’oyoon ellee má yehebbak ya-smar.”

O tear of my eye! who drew thee forth over the cheek? It saith, “Thy desire increaseth on account of thy true-love’s absence.” Have mercy upon one enslaved, O beautiful! and intent upon thee: Blinded be the eyes of him who loves thee not, O dark complexioned!

“Asmar wa-háwi-l-wardeteyni-l-beedi. Hobbee takhallak fee läyáli-l-’eedi. Nedren ’aleiya wa-n atánee seedee La-amal ’amáyil má ’amilhásh ’Antar.”

Dark-complexioned, and with two white roses![473] My love hath perfumed herself on the nights of the festival. I vow that, if my mistress come to me, I will do deeds that ’Antar did not.

No. 4.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

A’ - shik ra - a mub - te - lee - - ka - - - l-lu - - - - - h enta rá - - - - - - - - -ye - h feyn.

“’A′shik ra-a mubtel′ee: kal-luh enta ráyeh feyn. Wakaf kara kissatuh: bekyum sawa-l-itneyn. Ráhom le-kádi-l-häwa-l-itneyn säwa yeshkum. Bekyu-t-teláteh wa-káloo hobbena ráh feyn. El-leyl. El-leyl. Yá helw el-ayádee: háwi-l-khókh en-nádee. Entum min eyn wa-hna min eyn lemma shebektoonë.”

A lover saw another afflicted [in like manner]: he said to him, “Whither art thou going?” He stopped and told his story: they both wept together. They went to the kádee of love, both together to complain. The three wept, and said, “Whither is our love gone?” The night! The night! O thou with sweet hands! Gatherer[474] of the dewy peach! Whence were ye, and whence were we, when ye ensnared us?

“A’shik yekul li-l-hamám hát lee genáhak yóm. Kál el-hamám amrak bátil: kultu gheyr el-yóm: Hatta ateer fi-l-gó wa-nzur wegh el-mahboob; A′khud widád ’am wa-rga’ yá hamám fee yóm. El-leyl. El-leyl, etc.”

A lover says to the dove, “Lend me your wings for a day.” The dove replied, “Thy affair is vain:” I said, “Some other day: That I may soar through the sky, and see the face of the beloved: I shall obtain love enough for a year, and will return, O dove, in a day.” The night! The night! etc.

-------

THE CALL TO PRAYER.

The call to prayer, repeated from the mád’nehs (or menarets) of the mosques, I have already mentioned.[475] I have often heard this call, in Cairo, chanted in the following manner; and in a style more or less similar, it is chanted by most of the muëddins of this city.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Al _ lá _ hu ak _bar. Al- lá _ hu ak _ bar. Al _ lá _ hu ak - bar. Al _ lá - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - hu ak - bar. Ash - hadu an lá i - lá - ha il-la- l - láh. Ash-hadu an lá i - lá. ha il - la - l-lá - - - - - - - - - - - - - - h. Ash - hadu an - na Mo - ham - ma - dar ra - soolu - l - láh Ash - hadu an - na Moham - ma- dar ra - soolu-l - lá - - - - - - - - - - - h. Hei - ya ’a - la-s - sa - láh. Hei - ya ’ala-s-salá - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - h. Hei - ya ’ala - l - fe - láh. Hei - ya ’a-la-l-fe- lá - - - - - - - - - - — - - - -h Al- - lá - - hu ak - - bar. Al - - lá - - - hu ak - - bar. Lá i - lá - ha i-l - la - l-l-áh

THE CHANTING OF THE KUR-ÁN.

The following is inserted with the view of conveying some notion of the mode in which the Kur-án is commonly chanted in Egypt. The portion here selected is that which is most frequently repeated, namely, the “Fát’hah,” or first chapter.

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Bi - smi-l - - lá - hi-r-rah - má - ni-r - ra- heem. El - - hamdu li-l - lá - hi rab - - bil - ’á - - la - - mee - - na-r - rah- má - ni-r - ra - hee - mi má - li - ki yow - mi-d- deen. Ee - yá - - ka naa - bu - doo - wa- ee - yá - ka nesta - ’een. Ihdi - na-s - si - rá - ta-l- mus - ta - kee - ma si - rá - ta-l - le zee - na an- ’am - ta ’a - lei - him ghei - ri-l-maghdoo - bi ’a- lei - him wa-la-d - dá - - - -lleen. A’-meen.

-----

Footnote 449:

This is most remarkable in the more refined Egyptian music; but it is also observable in the airs of some common ballads and chants.

Footnote 450:

Often, in such cases, pronounced in an unusually broad manner, and the last syllable drawled out, thus—“Allauh!”

Footnote 451:

A friend (a native of Egypt) has observed to me, since the first edition of this work was printed, that “rabáb” would be a more proper term for this instrument, being the general Arabic name for a viol; but I never heard it called in Egypt by any other name than “kemengeh.” It is also thus called in Syria.

Footnote 452:

The mouth-piece (A B) of the zummárah is movable.

Footnote 453:

The arghool has three movable pieces to lengthen the longer tube (A B, B C, and C D); and is sometimes used with only one or two of these; and sometimes with none of them.

Footnote 454:

Here, in accordance with a rule observed in most modern Arab songs, the masculine gender is applied to the beloved object, who is, nevertheless, a female, as will be seen in several subsequent verses. In translation, I therefore substitute the feminine gender in every case where our language distinguishes gender. Some words occur, bearing double meanings, which I leave unexplained. I write the Arabic words as they are generally pronounced in Cairo, excepting in the case of one letter, which I represent by “k,” to express the sound which persons of education give to it instead of the more usual hiatus.

Footnote 455:

The Arabs find it impossible to utter three consonants together without a pause between the second and third: hence the introduction of the short vowel which terminates this word: it is a single letter that is represented by sh.

Footnote 456:

Or pace, or strut.

Footnote 457:

“Yá lellee,” which is thus translated, is a common ejaculation indicative of joy synonymous with “yá farhatee.” It is difficult to render this and other cant terms.

Footnote 458:

This line and the first of the next stanza require an additional note, which is the same as the last note of these lines, to be added at the commencement

Footnote 459:

This and some other lines require that the note which should be the last if they were of more correct measure be transferred to the commencement of the next line.

Footnote 460:

The famous saint Es-seyyid Ahmad El-Bedawee, who is buried at Tanta, in the Delta.

Footnote 461:

That is, the air of the song.

Footnote 462:

Namely, the black eyes.

Footnote 463:

The intoxication here meant is that of love, as is generally the case when this expression is used in Arab songs.

Footnote 464:

Cairo.

Footnote 465:

An ornament described in the Appendix, resembling a necklace of pearls, etc., attached on each side of the head-dress.

Footnote 466:

A kind of long necklace, reaching to the girdle.

Footnote 467:

The furniture consists of carpets, etc., spread upon the floor.

Footnote 468:

The lock of hair which hangs over the temple, commonly called “maksoos.”

Footnote 469:

“Bent” is a vulgar contraction of “bánet.”

Footnote 470:

Dual of “eed,” vulg. for “yed;” meaning “arm” as well as “hand.”

Footnote 471:

A vulgar diminutive of “má,” water.

Footnote 472:

More commonly called “nárgeeleh:” the Persian pipe.

Footnote 473:

The dark-complexioned girl has two white roses on her cheeks, instead of red.

Footnote 474:

Or, thou who hast.

Footnote 475:

In the chapter on religion and laws.

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XIX. PUBLIC DANCERS

Egypt has long been celebrated for its public dancing-girls; the most famous of whom are of a distinct tribe, called “Ghawázee.”[476] A female of this tribe is called “Gházeeyeh;” and a man, “Gházee;” but the plural Ghawázee is generally understood as applying to the females. The error into which most travellers in Egypt have fallen, of confounding the common dancing-girls of this country with the ’A′l’mehs, who are female singers, has already been exposed. The Ghawázee perform, unveiled, in the public streets, even to amuse the rabble. Their dancing has little of elegance. They commence with a degree of decorum; but soon, by more animated looks, by a more rapid collision of their castanets of brass, and by increased energy in every motion, they exhibit a spectacle exactly agreeing with the descriptions which Martial[477] and Juvenal[478] have given of the performances of the female dancers of Gades. The dress in which they generally thus exhibit in public is similar to that which is worn by women of the middle classes in Egypt in private; that is, in the hareem; consisting of a yelek, or an ’anter′ee, and the shintiyán, etc., of handsome materials. They also wear various ornaments: their eyes are bordered with the kohl (or black collyrium); and the tips of their fingers, the palms of their hands, and their toes and other parts of their feet, are usually stained with the red dye of the henna, according to the general custom of the middle and higher classes of Egyptian women. In general, they are accompanied by musicians (mostly of the same tribe), whose instruments are the kemengeh, or the rabáb, and the tár; or the darabukkeh and zummárah or the zemr: the tár is usually in the hands of an old woman.

The Ghawázee often perform in the court of a house, or in the street, before the door, on certain occasions of festivity in the hareem; as, for instance, on the occasion of a marriage, or the birth of a child. They are never admitted into a respectable hareem; but are not unfrequently hired to entertain a party of men in the house of some rake. In this case, as might be expected, their performances are yet more lascivious than those which I have already mentioned. Some of them, when they exhibit before a private party of men, wear nothing but the shintiyán (or trousers) and a tób (or very full shirt or gown) of semi-transparent, coloured gauze, open nearly half-way down the front. To extinguish the least spark of modesty which they may yet sometimes affect to retain, they are plentifully supplied with brandy or some other intoxicating liquor. The scenes which ensue cannot be described.

I need scarcely add, that these women are the most abandoned of the courtesans of Egypt. Many of them are extremely handsome; and most of them are richly dressed. Upon the whole, I think they are the finest women in Egypt. Many of them have slightly aquiline noses; but in most respects they resemble the rest of the females of this country. Women, as well as men, take delight in witnessing their performances; but many persons among the higher classes, and the more religious, disapprove of them.

The Ghawázee being distinguished, in general, by a cast of countenance differing, though slightly, from the rest of the Egyptians, we can hardly doubt that they are, as themselves assert, a distinct race. Their origin, however, is involved in much uncertainty. They call themselves “Barámikeh,”[479] or “Barmek′ees;” and boast that they are descended from the famous family of that name who were the objects of the favour, and afterwards of the capricious tyranny, of Hároon Er-Rasheed, and of whom we read in several of the tales of “The Thousand and One Nights:” but, as a friend of mine lately observed to me, they probably have no more right to call themselves “Barámikeh” than because they resemble that family in liberality, though it is liberality of a different kind. In many of the tombs of the ancient Egyptians, we find representations of females dancing at private entertainments, to the sounds of various instruments, in a manner similar to the modern Ghawázee, but even more licentious; one or more of these performers being generally depicted in a state of perfect nudity, though in the presence of men and women of high stations. This mode of dancing we find, from the monuments here alluded to, most of which bear the names of kings, which prove their age, to have been common in Egypt in very remote times; even before the Exodus of the Israelites. It is probable, therefore, that it has continued without interruption; and perhaps the modern Ghawázee are descended from the class of female dancers who amused the Egyptians in the times of the early Pharaohs. From the similarity of the Spanish fandango to the dances of the Ghawázee, we might infer that it was introduced into Spain by the Arab conquerors of that country, were we not informed that the Gaditanæ, or females of Gades (now called Cadiz), were famous for such performances in the times of the early Roman Emperors. However, though it hence appears that the licentious mode of dancing here described has so long been practised in Spain, it is not improbable that it was originally introduced into Gades from the East, perhaps by the Phœnicians.[480]

The Ghawázee mostly keep themselves distinct from other classes, abstaining from marriages with any but persons of their own tribe; but sometimes a Gházeeyeh makes a vow of repentance, and marries a respectable Arab; who is not generally considered as disgraced by such a connexion. All of them are brought up for the venal profession, but not all as dancers; and most of them marry, though they never do this until they have commenced their career of venality. The husband is subject to the wife: he performs for her the offices of a servant and procurer; and generally, if she be a dancer, he is also her musician: but a few of the men earn their subsistence as blacksmiths or tinkers. Most of the Gházeeyehs welcome the lowest peasant, if he can pay even a very trifling sum. Though some of them are possessed of considerable wealth, costly ornaments, etc., many of their customs are similar to those of the people whom we call “gipsies,” and who are supposed, by some, to be of Egyptian origin. It is remarkable that the gipsies in Egypt often pretend to be descended from a branch of the same family to whom the Ghawázee refer their origin; but their claim is still less to be regarded than that of the latter, because they do not unanimously agree on this point. I shall have occasion to speak of them more particularly in the next chapter. The ordinary language of the Ghawázee is the same as that of the rest of the Egyptians; but they sometimes make use of a number of words peculiar to themselves, in order to render their speech unintelligible to strangers. They are, professedly, of the Muslim faith; and often some of them accompany the Egyptian caravan of pilgrims to Mekkeh. There are many of them in almost every large town in Egypt, inhabiting a distinct portion of the quarter allotted to public women in general. Their ordinary habitations are low huts, or temporary sheds, or tents; for they often move from one town to another: but some of them settle themselves in large houses; and many possess black female slaves (by whose prostitution they increase their property), and camels, asses, cows, etc., in which they trade. They attend the camps, and all the great religious and other festivals; of which they are, to many persons, the chief attractions. Numerous tents of Gházeeyehs are seen on these occasions. Some of these women add, to their other allurements, the art of singing; and equal the ordinary ’Awálim. Those of the lower class dress in the same manner as other low prostitutes. Some of them wear a gauze tób, over another shirt, with the shintiyán, and a crape or muslin tarhah; and in general they deck themselves with a profusion of ornaments, as necklaces, bracelets, anklets, a row of gold coins over the forehead, and sometimes a nose-ring. All of them adorn themselves with the kohl and henna. There are some other dancing-girls and courtesans who call themselves Ghawázee, but who do not really belong to that tribe.[481]

Many of the people of Cairo, affecting, or persuading themselves, to consider that there is nothing improper in the dancing of the Ghawázee but the fact of its being performed by females, who ought not thus to expose themselves, employ men to dance in the same manner; but the number of these male performers, who are mostly young men, and who are called “Khäwals,”[482] is very small. They are Muslims, and natives of Egypt. As they personate women, their dances are exactly of the same description as those of the Ghawázee; and are, in like manner, accompanied by the sounds of castanets: but, as if to prevent their being thought to be really females, their dress is suited to their unnatural profession; being partly male, and partly female: it chiefly consists of a tight vest, a girdle, and a kind of petticoat. Their general appearance, however, is more feminine than masculine: they suffer the hair of the head to grow long, and generally braid it, in the manner of the women: the hair on the face, when it begins to grow, they pluck out; and they imitate the women also in applying kohl and henna to their eyes and hands. In the streets, when not engaged in dancing, they often even veil their faces; not from shame, but merely to affect the manners of women. They are often employed, in preference to the Ghawázee, to dance before a house, or in its court, on the occasion of a marriage-fête, or the birth of a child, or a circumcision; and frequently perform at public festivals.

There is, in Cairo, another class of male dancers, young men and boys, whose performances, dress, and general appearance are almost exactly similar to those of the Khäwals; but who are distinguished by a different appellation, which is “Gink;” a term that is Turkish, and has a vulgar signification which aptly expresses their character. They are generally Jews, Armenians, Greeks, and Turks.

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Footnote 476:

Since this was written, public female dancing and prostitution were prohibited by the government, in the beginning of June, 1834. Women detected infringing this new law are to be punished with fifty stripes for the first offence; and, for repeated offences, are to be also condemned to hard labour for one or more years: men are obnoxious to the discipline of the bastinado when parties in such offences. But there is a simple plan for evading punishment in cases of this kind, which, it is said, will be adopted by many persons. A man may marry a venal female, legally, and divorce her the next day. He has only to say two or three words, and pay a small sum of money, which he calls her dowry. He says, “Will you marry me?” She answers, “Yes.” “For how much?” he asks. She names the sum, and he gives it: she is then his lawful wife. The next day he tells her that she is divorced from him. He need be under little apprehension of her demanding the expenses of her maintenance during the period of her ’eddeh, before the expiration of which she cannot legally marry another man; for the marriage which has just been contracted and dissolved is only designed as a means of avoiding punishment in case of her being detected with the man; and otherwise is kept secret; and the sum which she can demand for her maintenance during the above-mentioned period is very paltry in comparison with that which she may obtain by taking a new husband every two or three days.

Footnote 477:

Lib. v., Epigr. 79.

Footnote 478:

Sat. xi., v. 162.

Footnote 479:

Commonly pronounced “Barám’keh.”

Footnote 480:

From the effect which it produced, it is probable that the dance performed by the daughter of Herodias was of the kind here described. See Matthew xiv. 6, 7, or Mark vi. 22, 23.

Footnote 481:

The courtesans of other classes abound in every town of Egypt; but in and about the metropolis, these and the others before mentioned are particularly numerous; some quarters being inhabited almost exclusively by them. These women frequently conduct themselves with the most audacious effrontery. Their dress is such as I have described as being worn by the Ghawázee, or differs from that of respectable women in being a little more gay, and less disguising. Some women of the venal class in Cairo not only wear the burko’ (or face-veil), but dress, in every respect, like modest women; from whom they cannot be distinguished, excepting by those to whom they choose to discover themselves. Such women are found in almost every quarter of the metropolis. Many of them are divorced women, or widows; and many are the wives of men whom business obliges to be often abroad.

Footnote 482:

The term “Gháïsh” (plural, “Gheeyásh”) is also applied to a person of this class.

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XX. SERPENT CHARMERS, AND PERFORMERS OF LEGERDEMAIN TRICKS, ETC

Many modern writers upon Egypt have given surprising accounts of a class of men in this country, supposed, like the ancient “Psylli” of Cyrenaïca, to possess a secret art, to which allusion is made in the Bible,[483] enabling them to secure themselves from the poison of serpents. I have met with many persons among the more intelligent of the Egyptians who condemn these modern Psylli as impostors, but none who have been able to offer a satisfactory explanation of the most common and most interesting of their performances, which I am about to describe.

Many Rifá’ee and Saadee darweeshes obtain their livelihood, as I have mentioned on a former occasion, by going about to charm away serpents from houses. A few other persons also profess the same art, but are not so famous. The former travel over every part of Egypt, and find abundant employment; but their gains are barely sufficient to procure them a scanty subsistence. The charmer professes to discover, without ocular perception (but perhaps he does so by a peculiar smell), whether there be any serpents in a house; and if there be, to attract them to him; as the fowler, by the fascination of his voice, allures the bird into his net. As the serpent seeks the darkest place in which to hide himself, the charmer has, in most cases, to exercise his skill in an obscure chamber, where he might easily take a serpent from his bosom, bring it to the people without the door, and affirm that he had found it in the apartment; for no one would venture to enter with him after having been assured of the presence of one of these reptiles within: but he is often required to perform in the full light of day, surrounded by spectators; and incredulous persons have searched him beforehand, and even stripped him naked; yet his success has been complete. He assumes an air of mystery, strikes the walls with a short palm-stick, whistles, makes a clucking noise with his tongue, and spits upon the ground; and generally says, “I adjure you by God, if ye be above, or if ye be below, that ye come forth: I adjure you by the most great Name, if ye be obedient, come forth; and if ye be disobedient, die! die! die!”—The serpent is generally dislodged by his stick, from a fissure in the wall, or drops from the ceiling of the room. I have often heard it asserted that the serpent-charmer, before he enters a house in which he is to try his skill, always employs a servant of that house to introduce one or more serpents; but I have known instances in which this could not be the case; and am inclined to believe that the darweeshes above mentioned are generally acquainted with some real physical means of discovering the presence of serpents without seeing them, and of attracting them from their lurking-places. It is, however, a fact well ascertained, that the most expert of them do not venture to carry serpents of a venomous nature about their persons until they have extracted the poisonous teeth. Many of them carry scorpions, also, within the cap, and next the shaven head; but doubtless first deprive them of the power to injure; perhaps by merely blunting the sting. Their famous feats of eating live and venomous serpents, which are regarded as religious acts, I have before had occasion to mention, and purpose to describe particularly in another chapter.[484]

Performers of sleight-of-hand tricks, who are called “Höwáh” (in the singular, “Háwee”[485]), are numerous in Cairo. They generally perform in public places; collecting a ring of spectators around them; from some of whom they receive small voluntary contributions during and after their performances. They are most frequently seen on the occasions of public festivals; but often also at other times. By indecent jests and actions, they attract as much applause as they do by other means. The “Háwee” performs a great variety of tricks; the most usual of which I shall here mention. He generally has two boys to assist him. From a large leather bag he takes out four or five snakes, of a largish size. One of these he places on the ground, and makes it erect its head and part of its body: another, he puts round the head of one of the boys, like a turban; and two more over the boy’s neck. He takes these off; opens the boy’s mouth, apparently passes the bolt of a kind of padlock through his cheek, and locks it. Then, in appearance, he forces an iron spike into the boy’s throat: the spike being really pushed up into a wooden handle. He also performs another trick of the same kind as this: placing the boy on the ground, he puts the edge of a knife upon his nose, and knocks the blade until half its width seems to have entered. Several indecent tricks which he performs with the boy I must abstain from describing: some of them are abominably disgusting. The tricks which he alone performs are more amusing. He draws a great quantity of various-coloured silk from his mouth, and winds it on his arm; puts cotton in his mouth, and blows out fire; takes out of his mouth a great number of round pieces of tin, like dollars; and, in appearance, blows an earthen pipe-bowl from his nose. In most of his tricks, he occasionally blows through a large shell (called the Háwee’s zummárah), producing sounds like those of a horn. Most of his sleight-of-hand performances are nearly similar to those of exhibitors of the same class in our own and other countries. Taking a silver finger-ring from one of the bystanders, he puts it in a little box, blows his shell, and says “’Efreet, change it!”—he then opens the box, and shows, in it, a different ring: shuts the box again; opens it, and shows the first ring: shuts it a third time; opens it, and shows a melted lump of silver, which he declares to be the ring melted, and offers to the owner: the latter insists upon having his ring in its original state: the Háwee then asks for five or ten faddahs to recast it; and having obtained this, opens the box again (after having closed it, and blown his shell), and takes out of it the perfect ring. He next takes a larger covered box; puts the skull-cap of one of his boys in it; blows his shell; opens the box; and out comes a rabbit: the cap seems to be gone. He puts the rabbit in again; covers the box; uncovers it; and out run two little chickens: these he puts in again; blows his shell; uncovers the box; and shows it full of fateerehs (or pancakes) and kunáfeh (which resembles vermicelli): he tells his boys to eat its contents; but they refuse to do it without honey: he then takes a small jug: turns it upside-down, to show that it is empty; blows his shell; and hands round the jug full of honey. The boys, having eaten, ask for water, to wash their hands. The Háwee takes the same jug; and hands it filled with water, in the same manner. He takes the box again; and asks for the cap; blows his shell; uncovers the box; and pours out from it, into the boy’s lap (the lower part of his shirt held up), four or five small snakes. The boy, in apparent fright, throws them down; and demands his cap. The Háwee puts the snakes back into the box; blows his shell; uncovers the box; and takes out the cap.—Another of his common tricks is to put a number of slips of white paper into a tinned copper vessel (the tisht of a seller of sherbet); and to take them out dyed of various colours. He pours water into the same vessel; puts in a piece of linen; then gives to the spectators, to drink, the contents of the vessel, changed to sherbet of sugar. Sometimes he apparently cuts in two a muslin shawl, or burns it in the middle; and then restores it whole.—Often, he strips himself of all his clothes, excepting his drawers; and tells two persons to bind him, hands and feet, and put him in a sack. This done, he asks for a piaster; and some one tells him that he shall have it if he will put out his hand and take it. He puts out his hand free; draws it back; and is then taken out of the sack bound as at first. He is put in again; and comes out unbound; handing to the spectators a small tray, upon which are four or five little plates filled with various eatables, and, if the performance be at night, several small lighted candles placed round. The spectators eat the food.

There is another class of jugglers in Cairo called “Keeyem” (in the singular, “Keiyim”). In most of his performances, the Keiyim has an assistant. In one, for instance, the latter places upon the ground twenty-nine small pieces of stone. He sits upon the ground; and these are arranged before him. The Keiyim having gone a few yards distant from him, this assistant desires one of the spectators to place a piece of money under any one of the bits of stone: this being done, he calls back the Keiyim, informs him that a piece of money has been hidden, and asks him to point out where it is; which the conjuror immediately does. The secret of this trick is very simple: the twenty-nine pieces of stone represent the letters of the Arabic alphabet; and the person who desires the Keiyim to show where the money is concealed commences his address to the latter with the letter represented by the stone which covers the coin. In the same manner, or by means of signs made by the assistant, the Keiyim is enabled to tell the name of any person present, or the words of a song that has been repeated in his absence: the name or song having been whispered to his assistant.

Fortune-telling is often practised in Egypt, mostly by Gipsies, as in our own country. There are but few Gipsies in this country. They are here called “Ghagar” or “Ghajar” (in the singular, “Ghagaree” or “Ghajaree”). In general, they profess themselves descendants of the Barámikeh, like the Ghawázee; but of a different branch. Many (I believe most) of the women are fortune-tellers. These women are often seen in the streets of Cairo, dressed in a similar manner to the generality of the females of the lower classes, with the tób and tarhah, but always with unveiled faces; usually carrying a gazelle’s skin, containing the materials for their divinations; and crying, “I perform divination! What is present I manifest! What is absent I manifest!” etc. They mostly divine by means of a number of shells, with a few pieces of coloured glass, money, etc., intermixed with them. These they throw down; and from the manner in which they chance to lie, they derive their prognostications: a larger shell than the rest represents the person whose fortune they are to discover; and the other shells, etc., represent different events, evils and blessings, which, by their proximity to, or distance from, the former, they judge to be fated to befall the person in question early or late or never. Some of these Gipsy-women also cry, “Nedukk wa-n’táhir!” (“We puncture and circumcise!”).[486] Many of the Gipsies in Egypt are blacksmiths, braziers, and tinkers; or itinerant sellers of the wares which are made by others of this class; particularly of trumpery trinkets of brass, etc.

Some Gipsies also follow the occupation of a “Bahluwán.” This appellation is properly given to a performer of gymnastic exercises, a famous swordsman, or a champion; and such descriptions of persons formerly exhibited their feats of strength and dexterity, under this name, in Cairo; but the performances of the modern Bahluwán are almost confined to rope-dancing; and all the persons who practise this art are Gipsies. Sometimes the rope is tied to the mád’neh of a mosque, at a considerable height from the ground; and extends to the length of several hundred feet; being supported at many points by poles fixed in the ground. The dancer always uses a long balancing-pole. Sometimes he dances or walks on the rope with clogs on his feet, or with a piece of soap tied under each foot, or with a child suspended to each of his ankles by a rope, or with a boy tied to each end of the balancing-pole; and he sits upon a round tray placed on the rope. I have only seen three of these bahluwáns, and their performances were not of the more difficult kinds above described, and less clever than those of the commonest rope-dancers in England. Women, girls, and boys, often follow this occupation. The men and boys also perform other feats than those of rope-dancing; such as tumbling, leaping through a hoop, etc.

The “Kureydátee” (whose appellation is derived from “kird,” an ape, or a monkey) amuses the lower orders in Cairo by sundry performances of an ape or a monkey, an ass, a dog, and a kid. He and the ape (which is generally of the cynocephalus kind) fight each other with sticks. He dresses the ape fantastically, usually as a bride, or a veiled woman; puts it on the ass; and parades it round within the ring of spectators; himself going before and beating a tambourine. The ape is also made to dance, and perform various antics. The ass is told to choose the handsomest girl in the ring; and does so; putting his nose towards her face; and greatly amusing her and all the spectators. The dog is ordered to imitate the motions of a thief; and accordingly crawls along on its belly. The best performance is that of the kid: it is made to stand upon a little piece of wood, nearly in the shape of a dice-box, about a span long, and an inch and a half wide at the top and bottom, so that all its four feet are placed close together: this piece of wood, with the kid thus standing upon it, is then lifted up, and a similar piece placed under it; and, in the same manner, a third piece, a fourth, and a fifth are added.

The Egyptians are often amused by players of low and ridiculous farces, who are called “Mohabbazeen.” These frequently perform at the festivals prior to weddings and circumcisions, at the houses of the great; and sometimes attract rings of auditors and spectators in the public places in Cairo. Their performances are scarcely worthy of description: it is chiefly by vulgar jests and indecent actions, that they amuse, and obtain applause. The actors are only men and boys: the part of a woman being always performed by a man or a boy in female attire. As a specimen of their plays, I shall give a short account of one which was acted before the Básha, a short time ago, at a festival celebrated in honour of the circumcision of one of his sons; on which occasion, as usual, several sons of grandees were also circumcised. The dramatis personæ were a Názir (or Governor of a District), a Sheykh-Beled (or Chief of a Village), a servant of the latter, a Copt clerk, a Felláh indebted to the government, his wife, and five other persons, of whom two made their appearance first in the character of drummers, one as a hautboy-player, and the two others as dancers. After a little drumming and piping and dancing by these five, the Názir and the rest of the performers enter the ring. The Názir asks, “How much does ’Awad[487] the son of Regeb owe?” The musicians and dancers, who now act as simple felláheen, answer, “Desire the Christian to look in the register.” The Christian clerk has a large dawáyeh (or receptacle for pens and ink) in his girdle; and is dressed as a Copt, with a black turban. The Sheykh el-Beled asks him, “How much is written against ’Awad the son of Regeb?” The clerk answers, “A thousand piasters.” “How much,” says the Sheykh, “has he paid?” He is answered, “Five piasters.” “Man,” says he, addressing the felláh, “why don’t you bring the money?” The felláh answers, “I have not any.” “You have not any?” exclaims the Sheykh. “Throw him down.” An inflated piece of an intestine, resembling a large kurbág, is brought; and with this the felláh is beaten. He roars out to the Názir, “By the honour of thy horse’s tail, O Bey! By the honour of thy wife’s trowsers, O Bey! By the honour of thy wife’s head-band, O Bey!” After twenty such absurd appeals, his beating is finished, and he is taken away, and imprisoned. Presently his wife comes to him, and asks him, “How art thou?” He answers, “Do me a kindness, my wife: take a little kishk[488] and some eggs and some sha’eereeyeh,[489] and go with them to the house of the Christian clerk, and appeal to his generosity to get me set at liberty.” She takes these, in three baskets, to the Christian’s house, and asks the people there, “Where is the M’allim Hanna, the clerk?” They answer, “There he sits.” She says to him, “O M’allim Hanna, do me the favour to receive these, and obtain the liberation of my husband.” “Who is thy husband?” he asks. She answers, “The felláh who owes a thousand piasters.” “Bring,” says he, “twenty or thirty piasters to bribe the Sheykh el-Beled.” She goes away, and soon returns, with the money in her hand, and gives it to the Sheykh el-Beled. “What is this?” says the Sheykh. She answers, “Take it as a bribe, and liberate my husband.” He says, “Very well: go to the Názir.” She retires for a while; blackens the edges of her eyelids with kohl; applies fresh red dye of the henna to her hands and feet, and repairs to the Názir. “Good evening, my master,” she says to him. “What dost thou want?” he asks. She answers, “I am the wife of ’Awad, who owes a thousand piasters.” “But what dost thou want?” he asks again. She says, “My husband is imprisoned; and I appeal to thy generosity to liberate him:” and as she urges this request, she smiles, and shows him that she does not ask this favour without being willing to grant him a recompense. He obtains this; takes the husband’s part; and liberates him.—This farce was played before the Básha with the view of opening his eyes to the conduct of those persons to whom was committed the office of collecting the taxes.

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The puppet show of “Kara Gyooz” has been introduced into Egypt by Turks, in whose language the puppets are made to speak.[490] Their performances, which are, in general, extremely indecent, occasionally amuse the Turks residing in Cairo; but, of course, are not very attractive to those who do not understand the Turkish language. They are conducted in the manner of the “Chinese shadows;” and therefore only exhibited at night.

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Footnote 483:

See Psalm lviii. 4, 5; Eccles. x. 11; and Jerem. viii. 17.

Footnote 484:

In the account of the Moolid en-Nebee, in the first of the chapters on periodical public festivals, etc.

Footnote 485:

So called from his feats with serpents.

Footnote 486:

They tattoo, or make those blue marks upon the skin which I have described in the first chapter of this work; and perform the operation alluded to in a note inserted, page 48.

Footnote 487:

Thus vulgarly pronounced for “’Ewad.”

Footnote 488:

A description of this will be found in a subsequent chapter.

Footnote 489:

A kind of paste, resembling vermicelli.

Footnote 490:

This exhibition is called in Arabic “khayál ed-dill,” or, more correctly, “— edh-dhill.”

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XXI. PUBLIC RECITATIONS OF ROMANCES

The Egyptians are not destitute of better diversions than those described in the preceding chapter: reciters of romances frequent the principal kahwehs (or coffee-shops) of Cairo and other towns, particularly on the evenings of religious festivals, and afford attractive and rational entertainments. The reciter generally seats himself upon a small stool on the mastab′ah, or raised seat, which is built against the front of the coffee-shop:[491] some of his auditors occupy the rest of that seat; others arrange themselves upon the mastab′ahs of the houses on the opposite side of the narrow street; and the rest sit upon stools or benches made of palm-sticks; most of them with the pipe in hand; some sipping their coffee; and all highly amused, not only with the story, but also with the lively and dramatic manner of the narrator. The reciter receives a trifling sum of money from the keeper of the coffee-shop, for attracting customers: his hearers are not obliged to contribute anything for his remuneration: many of them give nothing, and few give more than five or ten faddahs.[492]

The most numerous class of reciters is that of the persons called “Sho’ara” (in the singular “Shá’er,” which properly signifies a poet). They are also called “Aboo-Zeydeeyeh,” or “Aboo-Zeydees,” from the subject of their recitations, which is a romance entitled “The Life of Aboo-Zeyd” (“Seeret Aboo-Zeyd”). The number of these Sho’ara in Cairo is about fifty; and they recite nothing but the adventures related in the romance of Aboo-Zeyd.

This romance is said to have been founded upon events which happened in the middle of the third century of the Flight; and is believed to have been written not long after that period; but it was certainly composed at a much later time, unless it have been greatly altered in transcription. It is usually found in ten or more small quarto volumes. It is half prose and half poetry; half narrative and half dramatic. As a literary composition, it has little merit, at least in its present state; but as illustrative of the manners and customs of the Bedawees, it is not without value and interest. The heroes and heroines of the romance, who are mostly natives of Central Arabia and El-Yemen, but some of them of El-Gharb, or Northern Africa, which is called “the West,” with reference to Arabia, generally pour forth their most animated sentiments, their addresses and soliloquies, in verse. The verse is not measured, though it is the opinion of some of the learned in Cairo that it was originally conformed to the prescribed measures of poetry, and that it has been altered by copyists; still, when read, as it always is, almost entirely in the popular (not the literary) manner, it is pleasing in sound, as it also often is in matter. Almost every piece of poetry begins and ends with an invocation of blessings on the Prophet.

The Shá’er always commits his subject to memory; and recites without book. The poetry he chants; and after every verse he plays a few notes on a viol which has but a single chord, and which is called “the poet’s viol,” or “the Aboo-Zeydee viol;” from its only being used in these recitations. It has been described in a former chapter. The reciter generally has an attendant with another instrument of this kind, to accompany him. Sometimes a single note serves as a prelude and interlude. To convey some idea of the style of a Shá’er’s music, I insert a few notes of the commencement of a chant:—

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

[Stanza]

Ma-ká - lá - tu Khadra anda má kad te - fek - ke - ret li- má kad gara má beyn neg - a Hi - lál.[493]

Some of the reciters of Aboo-Zeyd are distinguished by the appellations of “Hiláleeyeh” (or Hilálees), “Zaghábeh,” or “Zughbeeyeh” (or Zughbees), and “Zináteeyeh” (or “Zinátees”), from their chiefly confining themselves to the narration of the exploits of heroes of the Hilálee, Zughbee, or Zinátee tribes, celebrated in this romance.

As a specimen of the tale of Aboo-Zeyd, I shall here offer an abstract of the principal contents of the first volume, which I have carefully read for this purpose.

Aboo-Zeyd, or, as he was first more generally called, Barakát, was an Arab of the tribe called Benee-Hilál, or El-Hiláleeyeh. Before his birth, his father, the Emeer Rizk (who was the son of Náïl, a paternal uncle of Sarhán, the king of the Benee-Hilál), had married ten wives, from whom, to his great grief, he had obtained but two children, both of them daughters, named Sheehah and ’Ateemeh, until one of his wives, the Emeereh Gellás, increased his distress by bearing him a son without arms or legs. Shortly before the birth of this son, the Emeer Rizk (having divorced, at different times, such of his wives as pleased him least, as he could not have more than four at one time, and having at last retained only three) married an eleventh wife, the Emeereh Khadra, daughter of Karda, the Shereef of Mekkeh. He was soon rejoiced to find that Khadra showed signs of becoming a mother; and, in the hope that the expected child would be a son, invited the Emeer Ghánim, chief of the tribe of Ez-Zaghábeh, or Ez-Zughbeeyeh, with a large company of his family and tribe, to come from their district and honour with their presence the festival which he hoped to have occasion to celebrate. These friends complied with his invitation, became his guests, and waited for the birth of the child.

Meanwhile, it happened that the Emeereh Khadra, walking with the Emeereh Shemmeh, a wife of King Sarhán, and a number of other females, saw a black bird attack and kill a numerous flock of birds of various kinds and hues, and, astonished at the sight, earnestly prayed God to give her a son like this bird, even though he should be black. Her prayer was answered: she gave birth to a black boy. The Emeer Rizk, though he could not believe this to be his own son, was reluctant to put away the mother, from the excessive love he bore her. He had only heard the women’s description of the child: he would not see it himself, nor allow any other man to see it, until the seventh day after its birth. For six days his guests were feasted; and on the seventh, or “yóm es-subooa,” a more sumptuous banquet was prepared; after which, according to custom, the child was brought before the guests. A female slave carried it upon a silver tray, and covered over with a handkerchief. When the guests, as usual in such cases, had given their nukoot (or contributions) of gold and silver coins, one of them lifted up the handkerchief, and saw that the child was as the women had represented it. The Emeer Rizk, who had stood outside the tent while this ceremony was performed, in great distress of mind, was now sharply upbraided by most of his friends for wishing to hide his supposed disgrace, and to retain an unchaste woman as his wife: he was very reluctantly compelled to put her away, that his tribe might not be held in dishonour on her account; and accordingly despatched her, with her child, under the conduct of a sheykh named Muneea, to return to her father’s house at Mekkeh. She departed thither, accompanied also by a number of slaves, her husband’s property, who determined to remain with her, being allowed to do so by the Emeer Rizk.

On the journey, the party pitched their tents in a valley; and here the Emeereh Khadra begged her conductor to allow her to remain; for she feared to go back, under such circumstances, to her father’s house. But the Emeer Fadl Ibn-Beysem, chief of the tribe of Ez-Zahlán, with a company of horsemen, chanced to fall in with her party during her conversation with the sheykh Muneea, and, having heard her story, determined to take her under his protection: returning to his encampment, he sent his wife, the Emeereh Laag El-Baheeyeh, to conduct her and the child thither, together with the slaves. The Emeer Fadl adopted her child as his own; brought him up with his own two sons; and treated him with the fondness of a father. The young Barakát soon gave promise of his becoming a hero: he killed his schoolmaster, by severe beating, for attempting to chastise one of his adoptive brothers; and became the terror of all his schoolfellows. His adoptive father procured another fikee for a schoolmaster; but Barakát’s presence frightened his schoolfellows from attending; and the fikee therefore instructed him at home. At the age of eleven years, he had acquired proficiency in all the sciences, human and divine, then studied in Arabia; including astrology, magic, alchemy, and a variety of other branches of knowledge.

Barakát now went, by the advice of the fikee, to ask a present of a horse from his adoptive father; who answered his “Good morning” by saying, “Good morning, my son, and dearer than my son.” Surprised at this expression, the youth went to his mother, and asked her if the Emeer Fadl were not really his father. She told him that this chief was his uncle; and that his father was dead: that he had been killed by a Hilálee Arab, called Rizk the son of Náïl. Becoming warmed and inspired by the remembrance of her wrongs, she then more fully related her case to her son in a series of verses. Of this piece of poetry I shall venture to insert a translation, made verse for verse, and with the same neglect of measure that is found in the original, which I also imitate in carrying on the same rhyme throughout the whole piece, in accordance with the common practice of Arab poets:—

“Thus did Khadra, reflecting on what had past ’Mid the tents of Hilál, her tale relate.

‘O Emeer Barakát, hear what I tell thee, And think not my story is idle prate. Thy father was Beysem, Beysem’s son, Thine uncle Fadl’s brother: youth of valour innate![494] And thy father was wealthy above his fellows; None other could boast such a rich estate. As a pilgrim to Mekkeh he journey’d, and there, In my father’s house, a guest he sate: He sought me in marriage; attain’d his wish; And made me his lov’d and wedded mate: For thy father had never been bless’d with a son: And had often bewail’d his unhappy fate. One day to a spring, with some friends I went, When the chiefs had met at a banquet of state; And, amusing ourselves with the sight of the water, We saw numberless birds there congregate: Some were white, and round as the moon at the full; Some, with plumage of red; some small, some great; Some were black, my son; and some were tall: They compris’d all kinds that God doth create. Though our party of women came unawares, The birds did not fear us, nor separate; But soon, from the vault of the sky descending, A black-plum’d bird, of enormous weight, Pounc’d on the others, and killed them all. To God I cried—O Compassionate! Thou Living! Eternal! I pray, for the sake Of the Excellent Prophet, thy delegate, Grant me a son like this noble bird, E’en should he be black, thou Considerate!— Thou wast form’d in my womb, and wast born, my son; And all thy relations, with joy elate, And thy father among them, paid honour to me: But soon did our happiness terminate: The chiefs of Hilál attack’d our tribe; And Rizk, among them, precipitate, Fell on thy father, my son, and slew him; Then seiz’d on his wealth, his whole estate. Thine uncle receiv’d me, his relative, And thee as his son to educate. God assist thee to take our blood-revenge, And the tents of Hilál to desolate. But keep closely secret what I have told thee: Be mindful to no one this tale to relate: Thine uncle might grieve; so ’tis fit that, with patience, In hope of attaining thy wish, thou shouldst wait.’

Thus did Khadra address her son Barakát; Thus her case with artful deception state. Now beg we forgiveness of all our sins, Of God the Exalted, the Sole, the Great; And join me, my hearers, in blessing the Prophet,[495] The guide, whose praise we should celebrate.”

Barakát, excited by this tale, became engrossed with the desire of slaying his own father, whom he was made to believe to be his father’s murderer.

His adoptive father gave him his best horse, and instructed him in all the arts of war, in the chase, and in every manly exercise. He early distinguished himself as a horseman, and excited the envy of many of the Arabs of the tribe into which he had been admitted, by his dexterity in the exercise of the “birgás” (a game exactly or nearly similar to what is now called that of the “gereed”), in which the persons engaged, mounted on horses, combated or pursued each other, throwing a palm-stick.[496] He twice defeated plundering parties of the tribe of Teydemeh; and, on the first occasion, killed ’Atwán the son of Dághir, their chief. These Teydemeh Arabs applied, for succour, to Es-Saleedee, king of the city of Teydemeh. He recommended them to Gessár the son of Gásir, a chief of the Benee-Hemyer, who sent to demand, of the tribe of Ez-Zahlán, fifteen years’ arrears of tribute which the latter had been accustomed to pay to his tribe; and desired them to despatch to him, with this tribute, the slave Barakát (for he believed him to be a slave), a prisoner in bonds, to be put to death. Barakát wrote a reply, in the name of the Emeer Fadl, promising compliance. Having a slave who much resembled him, and who was nearly of the same age, he bound him on the back of a camel, and, with him and the Emeer Fadl and his tribe, went to meet Gessár and his party, and the Teydemeh Arabs. Fadl presented the slave, as Barakát, to Gessár; who, pleased at having his orders apparently obeyed, feasted the tribe of Ez-Zahlán: but Barakát remained on horseback, and refused to eat of the food of his enemies, as, if he did, the laws of hospitality would prevent his executing a plot which he had framed. Gessár observed him; and, asking the Emeer Fadl who he was, received the answer that he was a mad slave, named Mes’ood. Having drawn Gessár from his party, Barakát discovered himself to him, challenged, fought, and killed him, and took his tent: he pardoned the rest of the hostile party; but imposed upon them the tribute which the Zahlán Arabs had formerly paid them. Henceforth he had the name of Mes’ood added to that which he had before borne. Again and again he defeated the hostile attempts of the Benee-Hemyer to recover their independence, and acquired the highest renown, not only in the eyes of the Emeer Fadl and the whole tribe of Ez-Zahlán, of whom he was made the chief, but also among all the neighbouring tribes.

We must now return to the Emeer Rizk, and his tribe.—Soon after the departure of his wife Khadra he retired from his tribe, in disgust at the treatment which he received on account of his supposed disgrace, and in grief for his loss. With a single slave, he took up his abode in a tent of black goats’ hair, one of those in which the tenders of his camels used to live, by the spring where his wife had seen the combat of the birds. Not long after this event, the Benee-Hilál were afflicted by a dreadful drought, which lasted so long that they were reduced to the utmost distress. Under these circumstances, the greater number of them were induced, with their king Sarhán, to go to the country of the tribe of Ez-Zahlán, for sustenance; but the Ga’áfireh, and some minor tribes of the Benee-Hilál, joined, and remained with, the Emeer Rizk, who had formerly been their commander. Sarhán and his party were attacked and defeated by Barakát on their arrival in the territory of the Zahlán Arabs; but on their abject submission were suffered by him to remain there. They however cherished an inveterate hatred to the tribe of Ez-Zahlán, who had before paid them tribute; and Sarhán was persuaded to send a messenger to the Emeer Rizk, begging him to come and endeavour to deliver them from their humiliating state. Rizk obeyed the summons. On his way to the territory of the Zahlán Arabs, he was almost convinced, by the messenger who had come to conduct him, that Barakát was his son; but was at a loss to know why he was called by this name, as he himself had named him Aboo-Zeyd. Arriving at the place of his destination, he challenged Barakát. The father went forth to combat the son: the former not certain that his opponent was his son; and the latter having no idea that he was about to lift his hand against his father; but thinking that his adversary was his father’s murderer. The Emeer Rizk found occasion to put off the engagement from day to day: at last, being no longer able to do this, he suffered it to commence: his son prevailed: he unhorsed him, and would have put him to death had he not been charged to refrain from doing this by his mother. The secret of Barakát’s parentage was now divulged to him by the Emeereh Khadra; and the chiefs of the Benee-Hilál were compelled to acknowledge him as the legitimate and worthy son of the Emeer Rizk, and to implore his pardon for the injuries which he and his mother had sustained from them. This boon, the Emeer Aboo-Zeyd Barakát generously granted; and he thus added to the joy which the Emeer Rizk derived from the recovery of his favourite wife, and his son.

The subsequent adventures related in the romance of Aboo Zeyd are numerous and complicated. The most popular portion of the work is the account of a “riyádeh,” or expedition in search of pasture; in which Aboo-Zeyd, with three of his nephews, in the disguise of Shá’ers, himself acting as their servant, are described as journeying through northern Africa, and signalizing themselves by many surprising exploits with the Arab tribe of Ez-Zináteeyeh.

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Footnote 491:

See the engraving opposite p. 359.

Footnote 492:

The reciter is generally heard to greater advantage in public than when he is hired to entertain a private party; as, in the former case, his profits are usually proportioned to the talent which he displays.

Footnote 493:

These words commence a piece of poetry of which a translation will be found in this chapter.

Footnote 494:

Literally, “Thou who hast a valiant maternal uncle!” I add this note merely for the sake of mentioning, that the Arabs generally consider innate virtues as inherited through the mother rather than the father, and believe that a man commonly resembles, in his good and evil qualities, his maternal uncle.

Footnote 495:

When the reciter utters these words, we hear, from the lips of most of the Muslims who are listening to him, the prayer of “Alláhum sallee ’aleyh!”—“O God, favour him!”

Footnote 496:

It is thus described in the romance: but a headless spear was formerly sometimes used instead of the “gereed,” or palm-stick.

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XXII. PUBLIC RECITATIONS OF ROMANCES—continued

Next in point of number to the Shó’ara, among the public reciters of romances, are those who are particularly and solely distinguished by the appellation of “Mohadditeen,” or Story-tellers (in the singular, “Mohaddit”). There are said to be about thirty of them in Cairo. The exclusive subject of their narrations is a work called “The Life of Ez-Záhir” (“Seeret Ez-Záhir,” or “Es-Seereh ez-Záhireeyeh”[497]). They recite without book.

The Seeret Ez-Záhir is a romance founded on the history of the famous Sultán Ez-Záhir Beybars, and many of his contemporaries. This prince acceded to the throne of Egypt in the last month of the year of the Flight 658, and died in the first month of the year 676; and consequently reigned a little more than seventeen years, according to the lunar reckoning, commencing A.D. 1260, and ending in 1277. Complete copies of the Seeret Ez-Záhir have become so scarce that I have only heard of one existing in Egypt, which I have purchased: it consists of six quarto volumes; but is nominally divided into ten; and is made up of volumes of several different copies. The author and his age are unknown. The work is written in the most vulgar style of modern Egyptian Arabic; but as it was intended for the vulgar, it is likely that copyists may have altered and modernized the language. The oldest volumes of my copy of it were written a few years more or less than a century ago. To introduce my reader to some slight acquaintance with this work, I shall insert a translation of a few pages at the commencement of the second volume; but, by way of introduction, I must say something of the contents of the first volume.

A person named ’Alee Ibn-El-Warrákah, being commissioned to procure memlooks from foreign countries, by El-Melik Es-Sáleh (a famous Sultán of Egypt, and a celebrated welee), is related to have purchased seventy-five memlooks in Syria; and to have added to them, immediately after, the principal hero of this romance, a youth named Mahmood (afterwards called Beybars), a captive son of Sháh Jakmak (or Gakmak) King of Khuwárezm. ’Alee was soon after obliged to give Mahmood to one of his creditors at Damascus, in lieu of a debt; and this person presented him to his wife, to wait upon her son, a deformed idiot; but he remained not long in this situation: the sister of his new master, paying a visit to his wife, her sister-in-law, found her about to beat the young memlook, for having neglected the idiot, and suffered him to fall from a bench: struck with the youth’s countenance, as strongly resembling a son whom she had lost, and pitying his condition, she purchased him of her brother, adopted him, gave him the name of Beybars, which was that of her deceased son, and made him master of her whole property, which was very great. This lady was called the sitt Fát’meh Bint-El-Akwásee (daughter of the bow-maker). Beybars showed himself worthy of her generosity; exhibiting many proofs of a noble disposition, and signalizing himself by numerous extraordinary achievements, which attracted general admiration, but rendered him obnoxious to the jealousy and enmity of the Básha of Syria, ’Eesa En-Násiree, who contrived many plots to ensnare him, and to put him to death. After a time, Negm-ed-Deen, a Wezeer of Es-Sáleh, and husband of a sister of the sitt Fát’meh, came on an embassy to Damascus, and to visit his sister-in-law. On his return to Egypt, Beybars accompanied him thither; and there he was promoted to offices of high dignity by Es-Sáleh, and became a particular favourite of the chief Wezeer, Sháheen El-Afram. The events which immediately followed the death of Es-Sáleh are thus related.

“After the death of El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob, the Wezeer Eybek called together an assembly in his house, and brought thither the Emeer Kala-oon and his partisans: and the Wezeer Eybek said to the Emeer Kala-oon, ‘To-morrow we will go up to the deewán with our troops, and either I will be Sultán or thou shalt be.’ The Emeer Kala-oon answered, ‘So let it be:’ and they agreed to do this. In like manner, the Wezeer Sháheen El-Afram also assembled the Emeer Eydemr El-Bahluwán and his troops, and all the friends and adherents of the Emeer Beybars, and said to them, ‘To-morrow, arm yourselves, and go up to the deewán; for it is our desire to make the Emeer Beybars Sultán; since El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob wrote for him a patent appointing him to the sovereignty;’ and they answered, ‘On the head and the eye.’ So they passed the night, and rose in the morning, and went up to the deewán; and there went thither also the Wezeer Eybek Et-Turkamánee, with his troops, and the Emeer Kala-oon El-Elfee, with his troops, and the Emeer ’Aláy-ed-Deen (or ’Alá-ed-Deen) El-Beyseree, with his troops, all of them armed. The Emeer Beybars likewise went up to the deewán, with his troops; and the deewán was crowded with soldiers. Then said the Wezeer Sháheen, ‘Rise, O Beybars; sit upon the throne, and become Sultán; for thou hast a patent appointing thee to the sovereignty.’ The Emeer Beybars answered, ‘I have no desire for the sovereignty: here is present the Wezeer Eybek, and here is Kala-oon: make one of them Sultán.’ But the Wezeer Sháheen said, ‘It cannot be: no one shall reign but thou.’ Beybars replied, ‘By thy head, I will not reign.’ ‘As he pleases,’ said the Wezeer Eybek.—‘Is the sovereignty to be conferred by force?’—‘As he pleases.’ The Wezeer Sháheen said, ‘And is the throne to remain unoccupied, with no one to act as Sultán?’ The Wezeer Eybek answered, ‘Here are we present; and here is the Emeer Kala-oon: whosoever will reign, let him reign.’ The Emeer ’Ezzed-Deen El-Hillee said, ‘O Wezeer Sháheen, the son of El-Melik Es-Sáleh is living.’ The Emeer Beybars asked, ‘Es-Sáleh has left a son?’ The Kurds[498] answered, ‘Yes; and his name is ’Eesa: he is at El-Karak.’ ‘And why,’ said the Wezeer Sháheen, ‘were ye silent respecting him?’ They replied, ‘We were silent for no other reason than this, that he drinks wine.’ ‘Does he drink wine?’ said the Wezeer Sháheen. The Kurds answered, ‘Yes.’ The Emeer Beybars said, ‘May our Lord bring him to repentance!’ ‘Then,’ said the soldiers, ‘we must go to the city of El-Karak, and bring him thence, and make him Sultán.’ The Wezeer Sháheen said to them, ‘Take the Emeer Beybars with you:’ but Eybek and Kala-oon answered, ‘We will go before him, and wait for him there until he come.’ The Emeer Beybars said, ‘So let it be.’

“Upon this, the Wezeer Eybek and Kala-oon and ’Aláy-ed-Deen El-Beyseree, and their troops, went down from the deewán and arranged their affairs, and on the following day caused their tents to be brought out, with their provisions, and pitched outside the ’A’dileeyeh.[499] Now the Wezeer Sháheen knew that the troops wished to create a dissension between the king (El-Melik) ’Eesa and Beybars. So the Wezeer Sháheen went down from the deewán, and took the Emeer Beybars with him, and went to his house, and said to him, ‘What hast thou perceived in the departing of the troops before thee?’ He answered, ‘Those persons detest me; for they are bearers of hatred; but I extol the perfection of Him who is all-knowing with respect to secret things.’ The Wezeer said to him, ‘My son, it is their desire to go before thee that they may create a dissension between thee and El-Melik ’Eesa.’ The Emeer Beybars said, ‘There is no power nor strength but in God, the High, the Great!’ The Wezeer said to him, ‘O Beybars, it is my wish to send ’Osmán Ibn-El-Hebla[500] and Mohammad Ibn-Kámil, the Dromedarist, before the troops; and whatever may happen, they will inform us of it.’ Beybars answered, ‘So let it be.’ Accordingly, he sent them; and said to them, ‘Go before the troops to the castle of El-Karak, and whatever may happen between them and El-Melik ’Eesa inform us of it.’ They answered, ‘It is our duty,’ and they departed. Then said the Wezeer Sháheen, ‘O Beybars, as to thee, do thou journey to Esh-Shám,[501] and stay in the house of thy (adoptive) mother, the sitt Fát’meh Bint-El-Akwásee; and do not go out of the house until I shall have sent to thee ’Osmán.’ He answered, ‘It is right.’ So the Emeer Beybars rose, and went to his house, and passed the night, and got up in the morning, and set out on his journey to Esh-Shám, and took up his abode in the house of his mother, the sitt Fát’meh Bint-El-Akwásee. We shall have to speak of him again presently.

“As to ’Osmán Ibn-El-Hebla and Mohammad Ibn-Kámil, the Dromedarist, they journeyed until they entered the castle of El-Karak, and inquired for the residence of El-Melik ’Eesa, the son of El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob. Some persons conducted them to the house; and they entered; and the attendants there asked them what was their business. They informed them that they were from Masr, and that they wished to have an interview with El-Melik ’Eesa, the son of El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob. The attendants went and told the kikhya, who came and spoke to them; and they acquainted him with their errand: so he went and told El-Melik ’Eesa, saying, ‘Two men are come to thee from Masr, and wish to have an interview with thee: the one is named ’Osmán; and the other, Mohammad Ibn-Kámil, the Dromedarist.’ The King said, ‘Go, call ’Osmán.’ The kikhya returned, and took him, and brought him to El-Melik ’Eesa; and ’Osmán looked towards the King, and saw him sitting tippling; and before him was a candelabrum, and a handsome memlook was serving him with wine; and he was sitting by a fountain surrounded by trees. Osmán said, ‘Mayst thou be in the keeping of God, O King ’Eesa!’ The King answered, ‘Ho! welcome, O ’Osmán! Come, sit down and drink.’ ’Osmán exclaimed, ‘I beg forgiveness of God! I am a repentant.’ The King said, ‘Obey me, and oppose me not.’ Then ’Osmán sat down; and the King said to him, ‘Why, the door of repentance is open.’ And ’Osmán drank until he became intoxicated.

“Now Eybek and Kala-oon and ’Aláy-ed-Deen and their troops journeyed until they beheld the city of El-Karak, and pitched their tents, and entered the city, and inquired for the house of El-Melik ’Eesa. The people conducted them to the house, and they entered; and the attendants asked them what was their object: they answered, that they were the troops of Masr, and wished to have an interview with El-Melik ’Eesa. The attendants went and told the kikhya, who came, and received them, and conducted them to the hall of audience, where they sat down, while he went and informed El-Melik ’Eesa, saying to him, ‘Come and speak to the troops of Masr who have come to thee.’ The King rose, and went to the troops, and accosted them; and they rose, and kissed his hand, and sat down again. El-Melik ’Eesa then said to them, ‘For what purpose have ye come?’ They answered, ‘We have come to make thee Sultán in Masr.’ He said, ‘My father, El-Melik Es-Sáleh, is he not Sultán?’ They replied, ‘The mercy of God, whose name be exalted, be on him! Thy father has died a victim of injustice: may our Lord avenge him on him who killed him!’ He asked, ‘Who killed him?’ They answered, ‘One whose name is Beybars killed him.’ ‘And where is Beybars?’ said he. They replied, ‘He is not yet come: we came before him.’ ‘Even so,’ said he. They then sat with him, aspersing Beybars in his absence: and they passed the night there; and, rising on the following morning, said to El-Melik ’Eesa, ‘It is our wish to go out, and remain in the camp; for Sháheen, the Wezeer of thy father, is coming, with the Emeer Beybars; and if they see us with thee, they will accuse us of bringing to thee the information respecting Beybars.’ He answered, ‘Good:’ so they went forth to the camp, and remained there.

“The Wezeer Sháheen approached with his troops, and encamped, and saw the other troops in their camp; but he would not ask them any questions, and so entered the city, and went to El-Melik ’Eesa, who said to him, ‘Art thou Beybars, who poisoned my father?’ He answered, ‘I am the Wezeer Sháheen, the Wezeer of thy father.’ The King said, ‘And where is Beybars, who poisoned my father?’ The Wezeer replied, ‘Thy father departed by a natural death to await the mercy of his Lord: and who told thee that Beybars poisoned thy father?’ The King answered, ‘The troops told me.’ ‘Beybars,’ said the Wezeer, ‘is in Esh-Shám: go thither, and charge him in the deewán with having poisoned thy father, and bring proof against him.’ So the Wezeer perceived that the troops had been plotting.

“The Wezeer Sháheen then went, with his troops, outside the camp; and Mohammad Ibn-Kámil the Dromedarist came to him, and kissed his hand. The Wezeer asked him respecting ’Osmán. He answered, ‘I have no tidings of him.’ Meanwhile, El-Melik ’Eesa went to ’Osmán, and said to him, ‘The Wezeer is come with his troops, and they are outside the camp.’ So ’Osmán rose, and, reeling as he went, approached the tents; and the Wezeer Sháheen saw him, and perceived that he was drunk, and called to him. ’Osmán came. The Wezeer smelt him, seized him, and inflicted upon him the ‘hadd’;[502] and said to him, ‘Didst thou not vow to relinquish the drinking of wine?’ ’Osmán answered, ’El-Melik ’Eesa, whom ye are going to make Sultán, invited me.’ The Wezeer said, ‘I purpose writing a letter for you to take and give to the Emeer Beybars.’ ’Osmán replied, ‘Good.’ So the Wezeer wrote the letter, and ’Osmán took it and departed, and entered Esh-Shám, and went to the house of the sitt Fát’meh, and gave it to his master, who read it, and found it to contain as follows.—‘After salutations—from his excellency the Grand Wezeer, the Wezeer Sháheen El-Afram, to his honour the Emeer Beybars. Know that the troops have aspersed thee, and created dissensions between thee and El-Melik ’Eesa; and accused thee of having poisoned his father, El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob. Now, on the arrival of this paper, take care of thyself, and go not out of the house, unless I shall have sent to thee. And the conclusion of the letter is, that ’Osmán got drunk in the castle of El-Karak.’—Beybars was vexed with ’Osmán, and said to him, ‘Come hither and receive a present:’ and he stretched forth his hand, and laid hold of him. ’Osmán said, ‘What ails thee?’ Beybars exclaimed, ‘Did I not make thee vow to relinquish the drinking of wine?′ ‘Has he told thee?’ asked ’Osmán. ‘I will give thee a treat,’ said Beybars: and he took him, and threw him down, and inflicted upon him the ‘hadd.’ ‘How is it,’ said ’Osmán, ‘that the king whom you are going to make Sultán I found drinking wine?’ Beybars answered, ‘If one has transgressed, must thou transgress?’ ‘And is this,’ asked ’Osmán, ‘the hadd ordained by God?’ Beybars answered, ‘Yes.’ ‘Then,’ said ’Osmán, ‘the hadd which Aboo-Farmeh[503] inflicted upon me is a loan, and a debt which must be repaid him.’ Beybars then said, ‘The troops have created a dissension between me and El-Melik ’Eesa; and have accused me of poisoning his father, El-Melik Es-Sáleh.’ ‘I beg the forgiveness of God,’ said ’Osmán. ‘Those fellows detest thee; but no harm will come to us from them.’ Beybars said, ‘O ’Osmán, call together the sáïses,[504] and arm them, and let them remain in the lane of the cotton-weavers,[505] and not suffer any troops to enter.’ ’Osmán answered, ‘On the head and the eye:’ and he assembled the sáïses, and armed them, and made them stand in two rows: then he took a seat, and sat in the court of the house. The Emeer Beybars also armed all his troops, and placed them in the court of the house.

“As to El-Melik ’Eesa, he mounted his horse, and departed with the troops, and journeyed until he entered Esh-Shám; when he went in procession to the deewán, and sat upon the throne, and inquired of the King[506] of Syria respecting Beybars. The King of Syria answered, ‘He is in the lane of the cotton-weavers, in the house of his mother.’ El-Melik ’Eesa said, ‘O Sháheen, who will go and bring him?’ The Wezeer answered, ‘Send to him the Emeer ’Aláy-ed-Deen El-Beyseree.’ So he sent him. The Emeer descended, and went to the lane of the cotton-weavers. ’Osmán saw him, and cried out to him, ‘Dost thou remember, thou son of a vile woman, the chicken which thou atest?’[507] He then struck him with a mace: the Emeer fell from his horse; and ’Osmán gave him a bastinading. He returned, and informed the king; and the King ’Eesa said again, ‘O Sháheen, who will go and bring Beybars?’ The Wezeer answered, ‘Send to him the Wezeer Eybek.’ The King said, ‘Rise, O Wezeer Eybek, and go, call Beybars:’ but Eybek said, ‘No one can bring him, excepting the Wezeer.’ Then said El-Melik ’Eesa, ‘Rise, O Wezeer Sháheen, and bring Beybars.’ The Wezeer answered, ‘On the head and the eye; but, before I bring him, tell me, wilt thou deal with him according to law, or by arbitrary power?’ The King said, ‘By law.’ Then said the Wezeer Sháheen, ‘So let it be: and I spake not thus from any other motive than because I fear for thyself and the troops, lest blood be shed: for Beybars is very stubborn, and has many troops; and I fear for the army; for he is himself equal to the whole host: therefore, bring accusation against him, and prove by law that he poisoned thy father.’ The King said, ‘So let it be.’

“Then the Wezeer Sháheen descended from the deewán, and went to the lane of the cotton-weavers. ’Osmán saw him, and said, ‘Thou hast fallen into the snare, O Aboo-Farmeh! the time of payment is come; and the debt must be returned to the creditor. Dost thou know how to give me a bastinading?’ The Wezeer said, ‘My dream which I saw has proved true.’ ‘What was thy dream?’ asked ’Osmán. ‘I dreamed,’ said the Wezeer, ‘last night, that I was travelling, and some Arabs attacked me, and surrounded me, and I was straitened by them; and I saw thy master, the Emeer Beybars, upon a mount; and I called out to him, Come to me, O Emeer Beybars! and he knew me.’ The Wezeer Sháheen calling out thus, the Emeer Beybars heard him, and came down running, with his sword in hand; and found ’Osmán and the sáïses surrounding the Wezeer. He exclaimed, ‘’Osmán!’ and ’Osmán said, ‘He gave me a bastinading in the city of El-Karak; and I want to return it.’ The Emeer Beybars sharply reprimanded him. ‘And so,’ said ’Osmán to the Wezeer, ‘thou hast found a way of escape.’ The Wezeer Sháheen then said, ‘O Emeer Beybars, El-Melik ’Eesa hath sent me to thee: he intends to prefer an accusation against thee in the deewán of Esh-Shám, charging thee with having poisoned his father. Now, do thou arm all thy soldiers, and come to the deewán, and fear not; but say that which shall clear thee.’ Beybars answered, ‘So let it be.’ He then armed all his soldiers, and went up to the deewán, and kissed the hand of El-Melik ’Eesa; who said to him, ‘Art thou the Emeer Beybars, who poisoned my father?’ Beybars answered, ‘Prove against me that I poisoned thy father, and bring the charge before the judge, and adduce evidence: the Kádee is here.’ The King said, ‘I have evidence against thee.’ Beybars said, ‘Let us see.’ ‘Here,’ said the King, ‘are the Wezeer Eybek and Kala-oon and ’Aláy-ed-Deen.’ The Emeer Beybars asked them, ‘Do ye bear witness against me that I poisoned El-Melik Es-Sáleh?’ They answered, ‘Never: we neither saw it, nor do we know anything of the matter.’ The Kádee said, ‘Hast thou any witnesses beside those?’ The King replied, ‘None: no one informed me but they.’ The Kádee said, ‘O King, those men are hypocrites, and detest the Emeer Beybars.’ El-Melik ’Eesa thereupon became reconciled with the Emeer Beybars, and said to his attendants, ‘Bring a kaftán.’ They brought one. He said to them, ‘Invest with it the Emeer Beybars;’ and added, ‘I appoint thee, O Beybars, commander-in-chief of the army.’ But Beybars said, ‘I have no desire for the dignity, and will put on no kaftáns.’ The King asked, ‘Why, Sir?’ Beybars answered, ‘Because I have been told that thou drinkest wine.’ The King said, ‘I repent.’ ’So let it be,’ said Beybars: and the King vowed repentance to Beybars: and the Emeer Beybars said, ‘I make a condition with thee, O King, that if thou drink wine, I inflict upon thee the “hadd;”’ and the King replied, ‘It is right.’ Upon this the King invested the Emeer Beybars with a kaftán; and a feast was made; and guns were fired; and festivities were celebrated: and they remained in Esh-Shám three days.

“El-Melik ’Eesa then gave orders for departure; and performed the first day’s journey. On the second day they came to a valley, celebrated as a halting-place of the Prophet, the Director in the way to heaven: in it were trees, and brooks, and birds which sang the praises of the King, the Mighty, the Pardoner. El-Melik ’Eesa said, ‘Pitch the tents here: we will here pass the night.’ So they pitched the tents. And the day departed with its brightness, and the night came with its darkness: but the Everlasting remaineth unchanged: the stars shone; and God, the Living, the Self-subsisting, looked upon the creation. It was the period of the full moon; and the King felt a longing to drink wine by the side of the brook and greensward: so he called to Abu-l-Kheyr, who came to him, and kissed his hand. The King said to him, ’Abu-l-Kheyr, I have a longing to drink wine.’ The servant answered, ‘Hast thou not vowed repentance to the Emeer Beybars?’ The King said, ‘The door of repentance is open; so do thou obey me:’ and he gave him ten pieces of gold. The servant then went to a convent; and brought him thence a large bottle: and the King said to him, ‘If thou see the Emeer Beybars coming, call out hay! and as long as thou dost not see him, call clover!’ The servant answered, ‘Right:’ and he filled a cup, and handed it to the King. Now, ’Osmán was by the tents: and he came before the pavilion of El-Melik ’Eesa; and saw him sitting drinking wine: so he went, and told his master, the Emeer Beybars. Beybars came. Abu-l-Kheyr saw him coming from a tent, and called out to the King, ‘Hay! hay!’ The King immediately threw the cup into the brook; Abu-l-Kheyr removed the bottle; and the King set himself to praying: and when he had pronounced the salutation [which terminates the prayers], he turned his eyes, and saw the Emeer Beybars, and said to him, ‘Wherefore art thou come at this hour? Go, sleep: it is late.’ Beybars answered, ‘I have come to ask thee whether we shall continue our journey now, or to-morrow morning.’ The King said, ‘To-morrow morning.’ And the Emeer Beybars returned, vexed with ’Osmán; and said to him, ‘O ’Osmán, didst thou not tell me that the King was sitting drinking wine? Now I have been, and found him praying. Dost thou utter a falsehood against the Sultán?’ ’Osmán answered, ‘Like as he has smoothed it over, do thou also: no matter.’ Beybars was silent.

“They passed the night there; and on the following morning El Melik ’Eesa gave orders for departure. They journeyed towards Masr; and when they had arrived at the ’A′dileeyeh, and pitched their tents, the Emeer Beybars said, ‘O our lord the Sultán, we have now arrived at Masr.’ The King answered, ‘I desire, O Beybars, to visit the tomb of the Imám [Esh-Sháfe’ee].’ Beybars said, ‘The thing is right, O our lord the Sultán: to-morrow I will conduct thee to visit the Imám.’ They remained that night at the ’A’dileeyeh; and on the following morning the Sultán rode in procession to visit the Imám, and returned in procession, and visited the tomb of his father, El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob; and then went in state to the Citadel: and the ’Ulama went up thither, and inaugurated him as sovereign, and conducted him into the armoury; and he drew out from thence a sword, upon which was inscribed ‘El-Melik El-Mo’azzam:’[508] wherefore they named him ‘’Eesa El-Mo’azzam.’ They coined the money with his name, and prayed for him on the pulpits of the mosques; and he invested with kaftáns the soldiers and the Emeer Beybars, the commander-in-chief. The Sultán then wrote a patent, conferring the sovereignty, after himself, upon the Emeer Beybars, to be King and Sultán. So the Emeer Beybars had two patents conferring upon him the sovereignty; the patent of El-Melik Es-Sáleh Eiyoob, and the patent of El-Melik ’Eesa El-Mo’azzam. Eybek and Kala-oon and ’Aláy-ed-Deen and their partisans, who hated Beybars, were grieved at this; but his friends rejoiced. The troops descended from the deewán, and went to their houses; and in like manner the Emeer Beybars descended in procession, and went to his house by the Kanátir es-Sibáa.

“Now the queen Shegeret-ed-Durr sent to El-Melik ’Eesa El-Mo’azzam. He went to her palace. She kissed his hand; and he said to her, ‘Who art thou?’ She answered, ‘The wife of thy father, El-Melik Es-Sáleh.’ ‘And what is thy name?’ said he. She replied, ‘The Queen Fátimeh Shegeret-ed-Durr.’ He exclaimed, ‘Oh! welcome! pray for me then.’ She said, ‘God bring thee to repentance!’ She then gave him a charge respecting the Emeer Beybars; saying, ‘Thy father loved him above all the chiefs, and entered into a covenant with him before God; and I, also, made a covenant with him before God.’ He answered, ‘O Queen, by thy life, I have written for him a patent conferring upon him the sovereignty after me.’ She said, ‘And thy father, also, wrote for him a patent, conferring upon him the sovereignty.’ The King then said to her, ‘Those chiefs created a dissension between me and him; and asserted that he poisoned my father.’ She said, ‘I beg God’s forgiveness! They hate him.’ After this the Queen remained chatting with him a short time; and he went to his saloon, and passed the night, and rose.

“On the following day he held a court; and the hall was filled with troops. And he winked to Abu-l-Kheyr, and said, ‘Give me to drink.’ Now he had said to him the day before, ‘To-morrow, when I hold my court, and say to thee, Give me to drink, bring me a water-bottle full of wine.’ So when El-Melik ’Eesa sat upon the throne, and the court, filled with troops, resembled a garden, the troops resembling the branches of plants, he felt a longing to drink wine, and said to Abu-l-Kheyr, ‘Give me to drink;’ and winked to him; and he brought to him the water-bottle; and he drank, and returned it. Then he sat a little longer, and said again, ‘Give me to drink, O Abu-l-Kheyr;’ and the servant brought the bottle; and he drank, and gave it back. He sat a little longer; and again he said, ‘Give me to drink.’ Kala-oon said, ‘O ’Aláy-ed-Deen, it seems that the Sultán has breakfasted upon kawárë’.’[509] Upon this the Wezeer Sháheen asked him, ‘What hast thou eaten?’ The King answered, ‘My stomach is heated and flatulent.’ The Wezeer, however, perceived the smell of wine; and was vexed. The court then broke up; and the troops descended. The Wezeer Sháheen also descended, and took with him the Emeer Beybars to his house, and said to him, ‘May God take retribution from thee, O Beybars.’ Beybars said, ‘Why?’ The Wezeer answered, ‘Because thou didst not accept the sovereignty.’ ‘But for what reason sayest thou this?’ asked Beybars. The Wezeer said, ‘The Sultán to-day drank wine, while sitting upon the throne, three times. When the Vicar of God, in administering the law, intoxicates himself, his decisions are null, and he has not any right to give them.’ Beybars replied, ‘I made a condition with him, that if he drank wine, I should inflict upon him the “hadd”; and wrote a document to that effect in Esh-Shám.’ ‘To-morrow,’ said the Wezeer, ‘when he holds his court, observe him; and take the water-bottle, and see what is in it. I perceived his smell.’ Beybars answered, ‘It is right:’ and he arose, and went to his house sorrowful. And he passed the night, and rose, and went to the court, and found it filled with troops; and he kissed the hand of the Sultán, and sat in his place. Presently the Sultán said, ‘Give me to drink, O Abu-l-Kheyr:’ and the servant brought the water-bottle; and the Sultán drank. Beybars took hold of the water-bottle; and said, ‘Give me to drink.’ The servant answered, ‘This is medicinal water.’ ‘No harm,’ said Beybars: ‘I have a desire for it.’ ‘It is rose-water,’ said the servant. Beybars said, ‘Good:’ and he took the bottle; and said, ‘Bring a basin.’ A basin was brought; and he poured into it the contents of the bottle before the troops; and they saw that it was wine. Then said the Emeer Beybars to the Sultán, ‘Is it allowed thee by God to be His Vicar, and to intoxicate thyself? Did I not make thee vow to relinquish the drinking of wine, and say to thee, If thou drink it I will inflict upon thee the “hadd;” and did I not write a document to that effect in Esh-Shám?’ The Sultán answered, ‘It is a habit decreed against me, O Beybars.’ Beybars exclaimed, ‘God is witness, O ye troops!’ and he took the Sultán, and beat him; and he was unconscious, by reason of the wine that he had drunk; and he loosed him, and departed from him, and went to his house.”

The second volume proceeds to relate the troubles which befell Beybars in consequence of his incurring the displeasure of El-Melik ’Eesa by the conduct just described; his restoration to the favour of that prince; and his adventures during the reigns of the subsequent Sultáns, Khaleel El-Ashraf, Es-Sáleh the youth, Eybek (his great and inveterate enemy), and El-Mudaffar; and then, his own accession to the sovereignty. The succeeding volumes contain narratives of his wars in Syria and other countries; detailing various romantic achievements, and the exploits of the “Fedáweeyeh,” or “Fedáwees,” of his time. The term Fedáwee, which is now vulgarly understood to signify any warrior of extraordinary courage and ability, literally and properly means a person who gives, or is ready to give, his life as a ransom for his companions, or for their cause; and is here applied to a class of warriors who owned no allegiance to any sovereign unless to a chief of their own choice; the same class who are called, in our histories of the Crusades, “Assassins:” which appellation the very learned orientalist De Sacy has, I think, rightly pronounced to be a corruption of “Hashshásheen,” a name derived from their making frequent use of the intoxicating hemp, called “hasheesh.” The romance of Ez-Záhir affords confirmation of the etymology given by De Sacy; but suggests a different explanation of it: the Fedáweeyeh being almost always described in this work as making use of “beng” (a term applied to hemp, and also to henbane, which, in the present day, is often mixed with hasheesh) to make a formidable enemy or rival their prisoner, by disguising themselves, inviting him to eat, putting the drug into his food or drink, and thus causing him speedily to fall into a deep sleep, so that they were able to bind him at their leisure, and convey him whither they would.[510] The chief of these warriors is “Sheehah,” called “Sultán el-Kiláa wa-l-Hosoon” (or “Sultán of the Castles and Fortresses”), who is described as almost constantly engaged, and generally with success, in endeavouring to reduce all the Fedáwees to allegiance to himself and to Beybars. From his adroitness in disguises and plots, his Proteus-like character, his name has become a common appellation of persons of a similar description. Another of the more remarkable characters in this romance is “Guwán”(or John), a European Christian, who, having deeply studied Muslim law, succeeds in obtaining, and retains for a few years, the office of Kádee of the Egyptian metropolis; and is perpetually plotting against Beybars, Sheehah, and other Muslim chiefs.

Much of the entertainment derived from recitations of this work depends upon the talents of the Mohaddit; who often greatly improves the stories by his action, and by witty introductions of his own invention.

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Footnote 497:

Hence the Mohadditeen are sometimes called “Záhireeyeh.”

Footnote 498:

Es-Sáleh was of the house of Eiyoob, a family of Kurds.

Footnote 499:

“The ’A’dileeyeh” is the name of a mosque founded by El-Melik El-’A’dil Toomán Bey, in the year of the Flight 906 (A.D. 1501), outside the wall of Cairo, near the great gate called Báb en-Nasr. The same name is also given to the neighbourhood of that mosque.

Footnote 500:

’Osmán (vulgarly called ’Otmán and ’Etmán) Ibn-El-Hebla was a rogue whom Beybars took into his service as groom, and compelled to vow repentance at the shrine of the seyyideh Nefeeseh (great-granddaughter of the Imám Hasan), and, soon after, made his mukaddam, or chief of his servants.

Footnote 501:

Damascus.

Footnote 502:

Eighty stripes, the punishment ordained for drunkenness.

Footnote 503:

’Osmán, for the sake of a rude joke, changes the name of the Wezeer Sháheen (El-Afram) into an appellation too coarse to be here translated.

Footnote 504:

Grooms, also employed as running footmen.

Footnote 505:

A lane from which the house was entered.

Footnote 506:

Sometimes called in this work “Básha” of Syria.

Footnote 507:

This is an allusion to ’Aláy-ed-Deen’s having eaten a dish that had been prepared for Beybars, when the latter had just entered the service of the Sultán Es-Sáleh.

Footnote 508:

The Magnified King.

Footnote 509:

A dish of lamb’s feet, cooked with garlic and vinegar, etc.

Footnote 510:

Since the above was written, I have found that El-Idreesee applies the term “Hasheesheeyeh,” which is exactly synonymous with “Hashshásheen,” to the “Assassins:” this, therefore, decides the question.

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XXIII. PUBLIC RECITATIONS OF ROMANCES—Continued

There is, in Cairo, a third class of reciters of romances, who are called “’Anátireh,” or “’Antereeyeh” (in the singular “’Anter′ee”); but they are much less numerous than either of the other two classes before mentioned; their number at present, if I am rightly informed, not amounting to more than six. They bear the above appellation from the chief subject of their recitations; which is the romance of “’Antar” (“Seeret ’Antar”). As a considerable portion of this interesting work has become known to English readers by Mr. Terrick Hamilton’s translation, I need give no account of it. The reciters of it read it from the book: they chant the poetry: but the prose they read, in the popular manner; and they have not the accompaniment of the rabáb. As the poetry in this work is very imperfectly understood by the vulgar, those who listen to it are mostly persons of some education.

The ’Anátireh also recite from other works than that from which they derive their appellation. All of them, I am told, occasionally relate stories from a romance called “Seeret el-Mugáhideen” (“The History of the Warriors”), or, more commonly, “Seeret Delhem′eh,” or “Zu-l-Himmeh,”[511] from a heroine who is the chief character in the work. A few years since, they frequently recited from the romance of “Seyf Zu-l-Yezen” (vulgarly called “Seyf El-Yezen,” and “Seyf El-Yezel”), a work abounding with tales of wonder; and from “The Thousand and One Nights” (“Elf Leyleh wa-Leyleh”), more commonly known, in our country, by the title of “The Arabian Nights’ Entertainments.” The great scarcity of copies of these two works is, I believe, the reason why recitations of them are no longer heard: even fragments of them are with difficulty procured; and when a complete copy of “The Thousand and One Nights” is found, the price demanded for it is too great for a reciter to have it in his power to pay. I doubt whether the romances of Aboo-Zeyd, Ez-Záhir, ’Antar, and Delhem′eh, are chosen as the subjects of recitation because preferred to “The Thousand and One Nights;” but it is certain that the modern Muslims of Egypt have sufficient remains of Bedawee feeling to take great delight in hearing tales of war.

That my reader may have some notion of all the works from which the professional reciters of romances in Cairo draw materials for the amusement of their audiences in the present day, I shall give a sketch of some of the adventures related in the romance of Delhem′eh. This work is even more scarce than any of those before mentioned. The copies, I am told, were always in fifty-five volumes. After long search, all that I have succeeded in procuring of it is a portion consisting of the first three volumes (containing, together, 302 pages), and another portion, consisting of the forty-sixth and forty-seventh volumes. The former would present a good specimen of the work, were not the greater part written in a hand scarcely legible; in consequence of which, and of the many other subjects that now demand my attention, I have only been able to read the first volume. The chief subjects of this work, according to the preface, are the warlike exploits of Arabs of the Desert in the times of the Khaleefehs of the houses of Umeiyeh and El-’Abbás. It is composed from the narratives of various writers: nine names of the authors are mentioned; but none of them are at present known: their history and their age are alike uncertain; but the style of their narratives shows them to be not modern. The account which the ’Anátireh and Mohadditeen generally give of this romance is as follows.—When El-Asma’′ee (or, as he is vulgarly called, El-Asmo’′ee) composed, or compiled, the history of ’Antar,[512] that work (they say) became extremely popular, and created so great an enthusiasm on the subjects of the adventures of Arab warriors, that a diligent search was made for all tales of the same kind; and from these was compiled the Seeret el-Mugáhideen, or Delhem′eh, by some author now unknown; who, as he could not equal the author of ’Antar in eloquence, determined to surpass him in the length of his narratives; and ’Antar being generally in forty-five volumes, he made his book fifty-five. The romance of Delhem′eh abounds in poetry, which is not without beauties, nor without faults; but these are, perhaps, mostly attributable to copyists.—Of a part of what I have read, which introduces us to one of the principal characters in the work, I shall now give an abridged translation.

At the commencement of the work, we are told that in the times of the Khaleefehs of the house of Umeiyeh, none of the Arab tribes surpassed in power, courage, hospitality, and other virtues for which the Arabs of the Desert are so famous, the Benee-Kiláb, whose territory was in the Hegáz: but the viceroy of the Khaleefeh over the collective tribes of the desert was the chief of the Benee-Suleym, who prided themselves on this distinction, and on their wealth. El-Háris, the chief of the Benee-Kiláb, a horseman unrivalled in his day, in one of the predatory excursions which he was wont frequently to make against other tribes, took captive a beautiful girl, named Er-Rabáb (or the Viol), whom he married. She became pregnant; and, during her pregnancy, dreamed that a fire issued from her, and burnt all her clothing. Being much troubled by this dream, she related it to her husband; and he, alike surprised and distressed, immediately searched for, and soon found, a person to interpret it. An old sheykh informed him that his wife would bear a son of great renown, who would have a son more renowned than himself, and that the mother of the former would be in danger of losing her life at the time of his birth. This prophecy he repeated to the wife of El-Háris, and at her request he wrote an amulet to be tied upon the infant’s right arm as soon as he should be born; upon which amulet he recorded the family and pedigree of the child:—“This child is the son of El-Háris the son of Khálid the son of ’A′mir the son of Saasa’′ah the son of Kiláb; and this is his pedigree among all the Arabs of the Hegáz; and he is verily of the Benee-Kiláb.” Soon after this El-Háris fell sick, and, after a short illness, died. Most of the Arabs of neighbouring tribes, who had been subjected and kept in awe by him, rejoiced at his death, and determined to obtain retribution by plundering his property. This coming to the ears of his widow, Er-Rabáb, she determined to return to her family, and persuaded a black slave who had belonged to her late husband to accompany her. By night, and without having mentioned their intention to any one else, they departed, and at midnight they approached a settlement of Arabs whose chief was the Emeer Dárim. Here the slave, tempted by the Devil, led her from the road, and impudently told her that her beauty had excited in his breast a passion which she must consent to gratify. She indignantly refused; but the fright that she received from his base conduct occasioned a premature labour, and in this miserable state she gave birth to a son. She washed the infant with the water of a brook that ran by the spot, wrapped it in a piece of linen which she tore off from her dress, tied the amulet to its arm, and placed it to her breast. Scarcely had she done this, when the slave, infuriated by disappointment, drew his sword and struck off her head. Having thus revenged himself, he fled.

Now it happened, as Providence had decreed, that the wife of the Emeer Dárim had just been delivered of a son, which had died; and the Emeer, to dissipate his grief on this account, went out to hunt, with several of his people, on the morning after Er-Rabáb had been murdered. He came to the spot where her corpse lay, and saw it. The infant was still sucking the breast of its dead mother; and God had sent a flight of locusts, of the kind called “gundub,” to shade it from the sun with their wings. Full of astonishment at the sight, he said to his Wezeer, “See this murdered damsel, and this infant on her lap, and those flying insects shading it, and the dead mother still affording it milk! Now, by the faith of the Arabs, if thou do not ascertain the history of this damsel, and the cause of her murder, I behead thee like her.” The Wezeer answered, “O King, none knoweth what is secret but God, whose name be exalted! Was I with her? or do I know her? But promise me protection, and I will inform thee what I suppose to have been the case.” The King said, “I give thee protection.” Then said the Wezeer, “Know, O King,—but God is most-knowing,—that this is the daughter of some King; and she has grown up, and a servant has had intercourse with her; and by him she has conceived this child; and her family have become acquainted with the fact, and killed her. This is my opinion, and there is an end of it.” The King exclaimed, “Thou dog of the Arabs! what is this that thou sayest to the prejudice of this damsel? By Allah! if I had not promised thee protection, I had slain thee with the edge of the sword! If she had committed this crime, she would not be affording the child her milk after she was dead; nor would God have sent these flying insects to shade the infant.” He then sent for a woman to wash the corpse, and after it had been washed and bound in grave-clothes, he buried it respectably.

From the circumstance of the gundub shading him with their wings, the foundling received the name of “El-Gundub′ah.” The Emeer Dárim conveyed it to his wife, and persuaded her to bring it up as her own; which she did until the child had attained the age of seven years; when he was sent to school; and there he remained until he had learned the Kur-án. By the time he had attained to manhood, he had become a horseman unrivalled; he was like a bitter colocynth, a viper, and a calamity.[513]

Now his adoptive father, the Emeer Dárim, went forth one day, according to his custom, on a predatory expedition, accompanied by a hundred horsemen. Falling in with no booty, he proceeded as far as the territory of a woman called Esh-Shamta (or the Grizzle), whom the heroes of her time held in fear, on account of her prowess and strength; and who was possessed of great wealth. He determined to attack her. She mounted her horse in haste, on hearing of his approach, and went forth to meet him and his party. For a whole hour she contended with them; killed the greater number; and put the rest to flight, except the Emeer Dárim, whom she took prisoner, and led in bonds, disgraced and despised, to her fortress. Those of his attendants who had fled returned to their tribes, and plunged them in affliction by the story they related. The Emeer Dárim had ten sons. These all set out together, with a number of attendants, to rescue their father; but they all became the prisoners of Esh-Shamta; and most of their attendants were killed by her. El-Gundub′ah now resolved to try his arms against this heroine. He went alone, unknown to any of the tribe, except his foster-mother, and arrived at the place of his destination. Esh-Shamta was on the top of her fortress. She saw him approach, a solitary horseman; and perceived that his riding was that of a hero. In haste she descended, and mounted her horse, and went out to meet him. She shouted against him; and the desert resounded with her shout; but El-Gundub′ah was unmoved by it. They defied each other, and met; and for a whole hour the contest lasted: at length El-Gundub′ah’s lance pierced the bosom of Esh-Shamta; its glittering point protruded through her back; and she fell from her horse, slain, and weltering in her blood. Her slaves, who were forty in number, seeing their mistress dead, made a united attack upon her victor; but he unhorsed them all; and then, reproaching them for having served a woman when they were all men of prowess, admonished them to submit to him; upon which they all acknowledged him as their master. He divided among them the treasures of Esh-Shamta; and released his adoptive father and brothers, with whom he returned to the tribe.

This exploit spread the fame of El-Gundub′ah among all the tribes of the desert; but it excited envy in the breast of the Emeer Dárim, who soon after desired him to seek for himself some other place of abode. El-Gundub′ah remonstrated; but to no effect; and prepared for his departure. When he was about to go, the Emeer Dárim desired to be allowed to open the amulet that was upon El-Gundub′ah’s arm, and to read what was written upon the paper. Having obtained permission, and done this, he uttered a loud shout; and several of his people coming in to inquire the cause of this cry, he said to them, “This youth is the son of your enemy El-Háris, the Kilábee: take him, and slay him:” but El-Gundub′ah insisted that they should contend with him one by one. The Emeer Dárim was the first to challenge him; and addressed him in these verses:[514]—

“This day I forewarn thee of death and disgrace, From my weapon, thou offspring of parents base! Didst thou think, thou vile foundling, to raise thyself, O’er the heads of our tribe, to the foremost place? Thy hope is now baffled: thy wish is deceiv’d: For to-day we have known thee of hostile race. Thy bloodthirsty father oppressed our tribe: Both our men and our wealth were his frequent preys: But to-day shall be taken a full revenge: All our heroes shall see me their wrongs efface. Be assur’d that thy death is now near at hand; That my terrible lance shall pierce thee apace; For ’twas I introduced thee among our tribe; And the foe that I brought I will now displace.”

El-Gundub′ah replied, “O my uncle, thou hast treated me with kindness: do not repent of it; but let me depart from you in peace: cancel not the good that thou hast done.” But Dárim answered, “Use no protraction: for thy death is determined on.” Then El-Gundub′ah thus addressed him:—

“Be admonish’d, O Dárim! thy steps retrace; And haste not thus rashly thy fate to embrace. Hast thou ever seen aught of evil in me? I have always nam’d thee with honour and praise. By my hand and lance was Esh-Shamta destroy’d, When thou wast her captive, in bonds and disgrace: I freed thee from bondage: and is it for this We are now met as enemies, face to face? God be judge between us: for He will be just, And will show who is noble, and who is base.”

As soon as he had said these words, the Emeer Dárim charged upon him. They fought for a whole hour; and at last, El-Gundub′ah pierced the breast of Dárim with his spear; and the point protruded, glittering, from the spine of his back. When Dárim’s sons saw that their father was slain, they all attacked El-Gundub′ah; who received them as the thirsty land receives a drizzling rain: two of them he killed: the rest fled; and acquainted their mother with the events they had just witnessed. With her head uncovered, and her bosom bare, she came weeping to El-Gundub′ah, and thus exclaimed:—

“O Gundub′ah! thy lance hath wrought havoc sore: Man and youth have perished; and lie in their gore; And among them, the eldest of all my sons. They are justly punish’d; but now I implore That thou pardon the rest: in pity for me Restrain thy resentment; and slaughter no more. By my care of thy childhood! and by these breasts Which have nourished thee, noble youth, heretofore! Have mercy upon us; and leave us in peace: In spite of thy wrongs, this contention give o’er. I love thee as though thou wert truly my son; And thy loss I shall sorrow for, evermore.”

El-Gundub′ah listened to her address; and when she had finished, he thus replied:—

“O Mother! by Him whom we all adore! And the just Mustaf′a Tá-Há![515] I deplore The actions which I have been made to commit; Deeds against my will; and not thought of before: But God, to whose aid I ascribe my success, Had of old decreed these events to occur. For thy sake their pardon I grant; and I would If their lances had made my life-blood to pour. To withdraw myself hence, and sever the ties Of affection and love, is a trial sore. While I live I shall constantly wish thee peace, And joy uninterrupted for evermore.”

Having said thus, El-Gundub′ah took leave of his foster-mother, and departed alone, and went to the fortress of Shamta elsewh.]. The slaves saw him approach; and met him: and, in reply to their inquiries, he informed them of all that had just befallen him. He then asked if any of them were willing to go with him in search of a better territory, where they might intercept the caravans, and subsist by plunder; and they all declaring their readiness to accompany him, he chose from among them as many as he desired, and left the rest in the fortress. He travelled with his slaves until they came to a desolate and dreary tract, without verdure or water; and the slaves, fearing that they should die of thirst, conspired against his life: but El-Gundub′ah, perceiving their discontent, and guessing their intention, pressed on to a tract abounding with water and pasture; and here they halted to rest. El-Gundub′ah watched until all of them had fallen asleep; and then despatched them, every one, with his sword. Having done this, he pursued his journey during the night; and in the morning he arrived at a valley with verdant sides, and abundance of pasture, with lofty trees, and rapid streams, and birds whose notes proclaimed the praises of the Lord of Power and Eternity. In the midst of this valley he saw a Bedawee tent, and a lance stuck by it in the ground, and a horse picketed. The Emeer Gundub′ah fixed his eyes upon this tent; and as he looked at it, there came forth from it a person of elegant appearance, completely armed, who bounded upon the horse, and galloped towards him, without uttering a word to engage him in combat. “My brother!” exclaimed El-Gundub′ah, “begin with salutation before the stroke of the sword; for that is a principle in the nature of the noble.” But no answer was returned. They fought until their spears were broken, and till their swords were jagged: at length El-Gundub′ah seized hold of the vest beneath his antagonist’s coat of mail, and heaved its wearer from the saddle to the ground. He uplifted his sword; but a voice, so sweet, it would have cured the sick, exclaimed, “Have mercy on thy captive, O hero of the age!” “Art thou a man?” said El-Gundub′ah, “or a woman?” “I am a virgin damsel,” she replied: and drawing away her “litám,”[516] displayed a face like the moon at the full. When El-Gundub′ah beheld the beauty of her face, and the elegance of her form, he was bewildered, and overpowered with love. He exclaimed, “O mistress of beauties, and star of the morn, and life of souls! acquaint me with thy secret, and inform me of the truth of thy history.” She replied, “O hero of our time! O hero of the age and period! shall I relate to thee my story in narrative prose, or in measured verse?” He said, “O beauty of thine age, and peerless-one of thy time! I will hear nothing from thee but measured verse.” She then thus related to him all that had happened to her:—

“O thou noble hero, and generous knight! Thou leader of warriors! and foremost in fight! Hear, now, and attend to the story I tell. I’m the virgin daughter, thou hero of might! Of El-Melik[517] Káboos! and a maid whose fame Has been raised, by her arms, to an envied height; Acknowledg’d a heroine, bold and expert, Skill’d alike with the lance and the sword to smite. Many suitors sought me in marriage, but none Could ever induce me his love to requite; And I swore by my Lord, the Compassionate, And the noble Mustaf′a, that moon-like light, That to no man on earth I would e’er consent In the bonds of marriage myself to unite, Unless to a hero for prowess renown’d, To one who should prove himself hardy in fight Who in combat should meet me, and overcome, And never betray the least weakness or fright. My suitors assembled: I fought each in turn; And I vanquish’d them all in our people’s sight: Not a horseman among them attain’d his wish; For I parried the thrusts of each daring knight. I was justly ‘The Slayer of Heroes’ nam’d; For no match could be found for my weapon bright. But I fear’d my father might force me, at last, To accept, as my husband, some parasite; And therefore I fled; and, in this lonely place, With my troop of horsemen, I chose to alight. Here we watch for the passing caravans; And with plunder we quiet our appetite. Thou hast made me thy captive, and pardon’d me: Grant me one favour more: my wish do not slight: Receive me in marriage: embrace me at once; For I willingly now acknowledge thy right.”

“Kattálet-esh-Shug’án,” or the Slayer of Heroes (for so was this damsel named, as above related by herself), then said to El-Gundub′ah, “Come with me and my party to my abode.” He went with her; and her people received them with joy; and feasted the Emeer Gundub′ah three days. On the fourth day, Kattálet-esh-Shug’án assembled the people of her tribe, with El-Gundub′ah, at her own dwelling; and regaled them with a repast, to which high and low were admitted. After they had eaten, they began to converse; and asked El-Gundub′ah to acquaint them with his history. He accordingly related to them what had befallen him with the Emeer Dárim; how he had liberated him and his sons from captivity; and how ungratefully he had been treated. There were ten persons sitting with him; and nine of these recounted their deeds in arms. The tenth, who was a slave, was then desired to tell his story; and he related his having served the Emeer Háris, and murdered his widow. El-Gundub′ah heard with impatience this tale of his mother’s murderer; and, as soon as it was finished, drew his sword, and struck off the slave’s head; exclaiming, “I have taken my blood-revenge upon this traitor slave!” The persons present all drew their swords, and raised a tremendous shout. Kattálet-esh-Shug’án was not then with them; but she heard the shout, and instantly came to inquire the cause; which they related to her; demanding, at the same time, that El-Gundub′ah should be given up to them to be put to death. She drew them aside, and told them that he had eaten of her food, and that she would not give him up, even if he had robbed her of her honour; but that she would advise him to take his departure on the morrow, and that, when he should have left her abode, they might do as they pleased. She then went to him, and told him of his danger. He asked what he should do. She answered, “Let us marry forthwith, and depart from these people:” and this he gladly consented to do.

They married each other immediately, taking God alone for their witness; and departed at night, and proceeded on their way until the morning, giving thanks to their Lord. For four days they continued their journey; and on the fifth day arrived at a valley abounding with trees and fruits and birds and running streams. They entered it at midnight. Seeing something white among the trees, they approached it; and found it to be a horse, white as camphor. They waited till morning; and then beheld a settlement of Arabs: there were horses, and she and he camels, and tents pitched, and lances stuck in the ground, and pavilions erected; and among them was a great company; and there were maids beating tambourines: they were surrounded with abundance. Through this valley, El-Gundub′ah and his bride took their way: his love for her increased: they conversed together; and her conversation delighted him. She now, for the first time, ventured to ask him why he had killed the slave, when he was her guest; and he related to her the history of this wretch’s crime. After this, they talked of the beauties of the valley which they had entered; and while they were thus amusing themselves, a great dust appeared; and beneath it were seen troops of horsemen galloping along. El-Gundub′ah immediately concluded that they were of his wife’s tribe, and were come in pursuit of him; but he was mistaken: for they divided into four parties, and all attacking, in different quarters at the same time, the tribe settled in the valley soon made the latter raise piteous cries and lamentations, and rend the air with the shouts of “O ’A’mir! O Kiláb!” When El-Gundub′ah heard the cries of “O ’A’mir! O Kiláb!” he exclaimed to his wife, “These people are the sons of my uncle! my flesh and my blood!” and instantly determined to hasten to their assistance. His bride resolved to accompany him; and they both together rushed upon the enemy, slaying every horseman in their way, and piercing the breasts of those on foot, with such fury and such success, that the defeated tribe rallied again, repulsed their assailants, and recovered all the booty that had been taken; after which they returned to El-Gundub′ah, and asked him who he was. He answered, “This is not a time to ask questions; but a time to rest from fight and slaughter.” So they took him with them, and retired to rest; and after they had rested and eaten, he related to them his history. Delighted with his words, they all exclaimed, “The truth hath appeared; and doubt is dissipated: justice is rendered to the deserving; and the sword is returned to its scabbard!” They immediately acknowledged him their rightful chief: but, after the death of El-Háris, they had chosen for their chief an Emeer named Gábir, who hated El-Háris, and termed him a robber; and this Emeer now disputed their choice, and challenged El-Gundub′ah to decide the matter by combat. The challenge was accepted, and the two rivals met and fought; but, though Gábir was a thorough warrior, El-Gundub′ah slew him. This achievement obtained him the possession of Gábir’s mare, an animal coveted throughout the desert: the rest of the property of the vanquished chief he left to be parted among the tribe. There were, however, many partisans of Gábir; and these, when they saw him slain, gathered themselves together against El-Gundub′ah: but he, with the assistance of his own party, defeated them, and put them to flight. Returning from their pursuit, he sat among his people and kinsfolk; and the sheykhs of his tribe brought him horses and arms and everything necessary: he received gifts from every quarter: his wife, also, was presented with ornaments; and from that day the Emeer Gundub′ah was acknowledged by all his tribe as the chief of the Benee-Kiláb.

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Footnote 511:

The latter, being a masculine appellation, is evidently a corruption of the former. The name is written “Delhem′eh” in the older portions of some volumes in my possession, made up of fragments of this work. One of these portions appears to be at least three centuries old. In some of the more modern fragments, the name is written “Zu-l-Himmeh.”

Footnote 512:

The ’Ulama in general despise the romance of ’Antar, and ridicule the assertion that El-Asma’′ee was its author.

Footnote 513:

These are not terms of reproach among the Arabs, but of praise.

Footnote 514:

When the narrator introduces poetry, he generally desires his readers and hearers to bless the Prophet. Frequently he merely says, “Bless ye the Apostle:” and often, “Bless ye him for [the visit to] whose tomb burdens are bound:” i.e. “Bless ye him whose tomb is an object of pilgrimage:” for, though the pilgrimage ordained by the Kur-án is that to the temple of Mekkeh and Mount ’Arafát, yet the Prophet’s tomb is also an object of pious pilgrimage.—I translate the poetry from this tale verse for verse, imitating the system pursued with regard to rhyme in the originals.

Footnote 515:

Tá-Há (which is the title of the 20th chapter of the Kur-án, and is composed of two letters of the Arabic alphabet) is considered, and often used, as a name of the Arabian Prophet (of whom Mustaf′a and Ahmad, as well as Mohammad, are also names): so likewise is Yá-Seen, which is the title of the 36th chapter of the Kur-án.

Footnote 516:

The “litám” (or “lithám”) is a piece of drapery with which a Bedawee often covers the lower part of his face. It frequently prevents his being recognised by another Arab, who might make him a victim of blood-revenge.

Footnote 517:

It was the custom to entitle the chief of a powerful tribe “El-Melik,” or “the King.”

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