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17.

Bismillah-"In the name of God;" the commencement of all the chapters of the Koran but one, and of prayer and thanksgiving.

27.

Then cu. i'd his very beard with ire.

Or live like scorpion girt by fire. Page 112, line 7. Alluding to the dubious suicide of the scorpion so placed for experiment by gentle philosophers. Some maintain that the position of the sting, when Page 113, line 37. turned towards the head, is merely a convulsive movement; but others have actually brought in the Mussulman. In 1809, the Capitan Pacha's whis A phenomenon not uncommon with an angry verdict, "Felo de se." The scorpions are surely kers, at a diplomatic audience, were no less lively interested in a speedy decision of the question; as, with indignation than a tiger cat's, to the horror f if once fairly established as insect Catos, they will all the dragomans; the portentous mustachios probably be allowed to live as long as they think twisted, they stood erect of their own accord, and proper, without being martyred for the sake of an hypothesis. were expected every moment to change their color, but at last condescended to subside, which, proba bly, saved more heads than they contained hairs

18.

When Rhamazan's last sun was set.
Page 112, line 23.
The cannon at sunset close the Rhamazan. See
note 8.

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Bright as the jewel of Giamschid. Page 112, line 54. The celebrated fabulous ruby of Sultan Giamschid, the embellisher of Istakhar; from its splendor, named Schebgerag, "the torch of night;" also,| "the cup of the sun," &c.-In the first edition, "Giamschid" was written as a word of three syllables, so D'Herbelot has it; but I am told Richardson reduces it to a dissyllable, and writes "Jamshid." I have left in the text the orthography of the one with the pronunciation of the other.

21.

Though on Al-Sirat's arch I stood.

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The "calpac" is the solid the head-dress; the shawl is forms the turban.

32.

Page 114, line 29. cap or centre part of wound round it, and

A turban carved in coarsest stone.

Page 112, line 58. Al-Sirat, the bridge of breadth less than the thread of a famished spider, over which the Mussulmans must skate into paradise, to which it is the Page 114, line 36. only entrance; but this is not the worst, the river The turban, pillar, and inscriptive verse, decorate beneath being hell itself, into which, as may be ex- the tombs of the Osmanlies, whether in the cemepected, the unskilful and tender of foot contrive to tery or the wilderness. In the mountains you fretumble with a "facilis descensus Averni," not very quently pass similar mementos; and, on inquiry, pleasing in prospect to the next passenger. There you are informed, that they record some victim of is a shorter cut downwards for the Jews and Chris- rebellion, plunder, or revenge. tians.

22.

And keep that portion of his creed.

Page 112, line 63.

33.

At solemn sound of "Alla Hu!"

Page 114, line 47. A vulgar error: the Koran allots at least a third "Alla Hu!" the concluding words of the Muezparadise to well-behaved women; but by far the zin's call to prayer from the highest gallery on the greater number of Mussulmans interpret the text exterior of the minaret. On a still evening, when their own way, and exclude their moieties from the Muezzin has a fine voice, which is frequently heaven. Being enemies to Platonics, they cannot the case, the effect is solemn and beautiful beyond discern " any fitness of things" in the souls of the all the bells in Christendom. other sex, conceiving them to be superseded by the Houris.

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Beneath avenging Monkir's scythe. Page 114, line 62. Monkir and Nekir are the inquisitors of the dead, before whom the corpse undergoes a slight novitiate and preparatory training for damnation. If the answers are none of the clearest, he is hauled up with a scythe and thumped down with a red-hot mace till properly seasoned, with a variety of subsidiary probations. The office of these angels is no sinecure; there are but two, and the number of orthodox de ces sed being in a small proportion to the remainder the hands are always full.

36.

To wander round lost Eblis' throne.
Page 114, line 64.
Eblis, the Oriental Prince of Darkness.

37.

Harold, Canto 2d. I was at some pains to question the man, and he described the dresses, arms, and marks of the horses of our party so accurately, that, with other circumstances, we could not doubt of his having been in "villainous company," and our selves in a bad neighborhood. Dervish became a soothsayer for life, and I dare say is now hearing But first, on earth, as vampire sent. more musketry than ever will be fired, to the great Page 114, line 69. refreshment of the Arnaouts of Berat, and his naThe Vampire superstition is still general in the tive mountains.-I shall mention one trait more of Levant. Honest Tournefort tells a long story, which this singular race. In March, 1811, a remarkably Mr. Southey, in the notes on Thalaba, quotes, about stout and active Arnaout came (I believe the tenth these "Vroucolochas," as he calls them. The Ro- on the same errand) to offer himself as an attendmaic term is "Vardoulacha." I recollect a whole ant, which was declined: "Well, Affendi," quoth family being terrified by the scream of a child, he, "may you live!-you would have found me usewhich they imagined must proceed from such a visi-ful. I shall leave the town for the hills to-morrow, tation. The Greeks never mention the word with- in the winter I return, perhaps you will then receive out horror. I find that "Broucolokas" is an old me."-Dervish, who was present, remarked, as a legitimate Hellenic appellation-at least is so ap- thing of course, and of no consequence, "In the plied to Arsenius, who, according to the Greeks, was after his death animated by the Devil.-The moderns, however, use the word I mention.

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mean time he will join the Klephtes," (robbers,)
which was true to the letter.-If not cut off, they
come down in the winter, and pass it unmolested
in some town, where they are often as well known
as their exploits.
41.

Looks not to priesthood for relief.

Page 117, line 125.

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This superstition of a second-hearing (for I never The circumstance to which the above story re met with downright second-sight in the east) fell lates was not very uncommon in Turkey. A few once under my own observation.-On my third years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained to journey to Cape Colonna early in 1811, as we passed his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked hrough the defile that leads from the hamlet with whom, and she had the barbarity to give in a ween Keratiar and Colonna, I observed Dervisi. list of the twelve handsomest women in Yanina Tahiri riding rather out of the path, and leaning They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drown his head upon his hand, as if in pain. I rode up ed in the lake the same night! One of the guards and inquired. "We are in peril," he answered. who was present informed me, that not one of the "What peril? we are not now in Albania, nor in victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terthe passes to Ephesus, Messalunghi, or Lepanto; ror at so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from there are plenty of us, well armed, and the Choriates all we love." The fate of Phrosine, the fairest of have not courage to be thieves."-" True, Affendi, this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic and but nevertheless the shot is ringing in my ears." Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told "The shot! not a tophaike has been fired this of a young Venetian many years ago, and now morning."-"I hear it notwithstanding-Bom-nearly forgotten. I heard it by accident recited by Bom as plainly as I hear your voice."-" Pshaw." one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in "As you please, Affendi; if it is written, so will it the Levant, and sing or recite their narratives. be." I left this quick-eared predestinarian, and The additions and interpolations by the translator rode up to Basili, his Christian compatriot, whose will be easily distinguished from the rest by the ears, though not at all prophetic, by no means rel- want of Eastern imagery; and I regret that my ished the intelligence. We all arrived at Colonna, memory has retained so few fragments of the origi remained some hours, and returned leisurely, say-nal.

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ing a variety of brilliant things, in more languages For the contents of some the notes I am indebted than spoiled the building of Babel, upon the mis- partly to D'Herbelot, and partly to that most easttaken seer: Romaic, Arnaout, Turkish, Italian, ern, and, as Mr. Weber justly entitles it, "sublime and English were all exercised, in various conceits, tale," the " Caliph Vathek." I do not know from upon the unfortunate Mussulman. While we were what source the author of that singular volume contemplating the beautiful prospect, Dervish was may have drawn his materials; some of his incioccupied about the columns. I thought he was de-dents are to be found in the "Bibliotheque Orienranged into an antiquarian, and asked him if he had tale; but for correctness of costume, beauty of become a Palaocastro' man: "No," said he, "but description, and power of imagination, it far sur these pillars will be useful in making a stand;" passes all European imitations; and bears such and added other remarks, which at least evinced his marks of originality, that those who have visited ewn belief in his troublesome faculty of fore-hearing. the East, will find some difficulty in believing it to Un our return to Athens, we heard from Leone (a be more than a translation. As an Eastern tale, prisoner set ashore some days after) of the intended even Rasselas must bow before it; his Happy attack of the Mainotes, mentioned, with the cause Valley" will not bear a comparison with the "Hall fits not taking place, in the notes to Childe of Eblis."

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THE BRIDE OF ABYDOS:

A TURKISH TALE.

Had we never loved so kindly,
Had we never loved so blindly,
Never met or never parted,

We had ne'er been broken-hearted.

BURNS.

ΤΟ

THE RIGHT HONORABLE LORD HOLLAND,

THIS TALE IS INSCRIBED,

WITH EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND,

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KNOW ye the land where the cypress and myrtle
Are emblems of deeds that are done in their clime,
Where the rage of the vulture, the love of the turtle,
Now melt into sorrow, now madden to crime?
Know ye the land of the cedar and vine,
Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever
shine;

Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume,

Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gúl' in her bloom;
Where the citron and olive are fairest of fruit,
And the voice of the nightingale never is mute;
Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky,
In color though varied, in beauty may vie,
And the purple of ocean is deepest in dye;
Where the virgins are soft as the roses they twine,
And all, save the spirit of man, is divine?
'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the sun-
Can he smile on such deeds as his children have
done? 2

Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell

Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell.

II.

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Old Giaffir sat in his Divan:

Deep thought was in his aged eye; And though the face of Mussulman Not oft betrays to standers by The mind within, well skill'd to hide All but unconquerable pride,

His pensive cheek and pondering brow Did more than he was wont avow.

III.

"Let the chamber be clear'd."-The train disaf pear'd

"Now call me the chief of the Haram guard." With Giaffir is none but his only son,

And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award.
"Haroun-when all the crowd that wait
Are pass'd beyond the outer gate,
(Wo to the head whose eye beheld
My child Zuleika's face unveil'd!)
Hence, lead my daughter from her tower;
Her fate is fix'd this very hour:
Yet not to her repeat my thought;
By me alone be duty taught!"

"Pacha! to hear is to obey."
No more must slave to despot say-
Then to the tower had ta'en his way
But here young Selim silence brake,
First lowly rendering reverence meet⚫

And downcast look'd and gently spake,
Still standing at the Pacha's feet:
For son of Moslem must expire,
Ere dare to sit before his sire!

Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide My sister, or her sable guide, Know-for the fault, if fault there be, Was mine, then fall thy frowns on meSo lovelily the morning shone,

That-let the old and weary sleepI could not; and to view alone

The fairest scenes of land and deep, With none to listen and reply

To thoughts with which my heart beat high

Were irksome-for whate'er my mood,

In sooth I love not solitude;

I on Zuleika's slumber broke,

And, as thou knowest that for me

Soon turns the Haram's grating key,

Before the guardian slaves awoke
We to the cypress groves had flown,

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Son of a slave!"-the Pacha said-
"From unbelieving mother bred,
Vain were a father's hope to see
Aught that beseems a man in thee.

Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow,
And hurl the dart, and curb the steed,
Thou, Greek in soul if not in creed,
Must pore where babbling waters flow,
And watch unfolding roses blow.
Would that yon orb, whose matin glow
Thy listless eyes so much admire,
Would lend thee something of his fire!
Thou, who wouldst see this battlement
By Christian cannon piecemeal rent;
Nay, tamely view old Stambol's wall
Before the dogs of Moscow fall,

Nor strike one stroke for life and death
Against the curs of Nazareth!
Go-let thy less than woman's hand
Assume the distaff-not the brand.
But, Haroun !-to my daughter speed:
And hark-of thine own head take heed-
If thus Zuleika oft takes wing-

Thou seest yon bow-it hath a string!"

V.

No sound from Selim's lip was heard
At least that met old Giaffir's ear
But every frown and every word
Pierced keener than a Christian's sword.
"Son of a slave!-reproach'd with fear!
Those gibes had cost another dear.
Son of a slave!-and who
my sire?"

Thus held his thoughts their dark career:

And glances even of more than ire
Flash forth, then faintly disappear.
Old Giaffir gazed upon his son

And started; for within his eye
He read how much his wrath hath done;
He saw rebellion there begun :

"Come hither, boy-what, no reply?

I mark thee-and I know thee too;
But there be deeds thou dar'st not do
But if thy beard had manlier length,
And if thy hand had skill and strength,
I'd joy to see thee break a lance,
Albeit against my own perchance

As sneeringly these accents fell, On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed:

"

That eye return'd him glance for glance,
And proudly to his sire's was raised,

Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askance
And why he felt, but durst not tell.
"Much I misdoubt this wayward boy
Will one day work me more annoy:

I never loved him from his birth,
And-but his arm is little worth,
And scarcely in the chase could cope
With timid fawn or antelope,

Far less would venture into strife
Where man contends for fame and life

I would not trust that look or tone;
No-nor the blood so near my own.
That blood-he hath not heard-no more--
I'll watch him closer than before.
He is an Arab to my sight,
Or Christian crouching in the fight-
But hark!-I hear Zuleika's voice:

Like Houris' hymn it meets mine ear:
She is the offspring of my choice;

Oh! more than ev'n her mother dear.
With all to hope, and nought to fear
My Peri! ever welcome here!
Sweet as the desert-fountain's wave
To lips just cool'd in time to save-

Such to my longing sight art thou;
Nor can they waft to Mecca's shrine
More thanks for life, than I for thine,

Who blest thy birth, and bless thee now.
VI.

Fair, as the first that fell of womankind,
When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling
Whose image then was stamp'd upon her mind-
But once beguiled-and ever more beguiling.
Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendant vision
To sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given,
When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian
And paints the lost on earth revived in heaven;
Soft, as the memory of buried love:
Pure, as the prayer which childhood wafts above;
Was she-the daughter of this rude old chief,
Who met the maid with tears-but not of grief.

Who hath not proved how feebly words essay
To fix one spark of beauty's heavenly ray?
Who doth not feel, until his failing sight
Faints into dimness with its own delight,
His changing check, his sinking heart confes
The might-the majesty of loveliness?
Such was Zuleika-such around her shone
The nameless charms unmark'd by her alone;

The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind. the music breathing from her face,
The hear. whose softness harmonized the whole-
And, oh! that eye was in itself a soul!

Her graceful arms in meekness bending
Across her gently budding breast;
At one kind word those arms extending
To clasp the neck of him who blest
His child caressing and carest,
Zuleika came-end Giaffir felt
His purpose half within him melt:
Not that against her fancied weal
His heart though stern could ever feel;
Affection chain'd her to that heart;
Ambition tore the links apart.

VII.

"Zuleika! child of gentleness!
How dear this very day must tell,
When I forget my own distress,
In losing what I love so well,
To bid thee with another dwell:
Another! and a braver man
Was never seen in battle's van.
We Moslem reck not much of blood;
But yet the line of Carasman 7
Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood
First of the bold Timariot bands
That won and well can keep their lands.
Enough that he who comes to woo
Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou :

His years need scarce a thought employ ;
I would not have thee wed a boy.
And thou shalt have a noble dower:
And his and my united power
Will laugh to scorn the death-firman,
Which others tremble but to scan.
And teach the messenger what fate
The bearer of such boon may wait.
And now thou know'st thy father's will;
All that thy sex hath need to know:
"Twas mine to teach obedience still-
The way to love thy lord may show."

VIII.

In silence bow'd the virgin's head;
And if her eye was fill'd with tears,
That stifled feeling dare not shed,
And changed her cheek from pale to red,
And red to pale, as through her ears
Those winged words like arrows sped,
What could such be but maiden fears?
So bright the tear in beauty's eye,
Love half regrets to kiss it dry;
So sweet the blush of bashfulness,

Even pity scarce can wish it less!
Whate'er it was the sire forgot;
Or if remember'd, mark'd it not:

Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed,
Resign'd his gem-adorn'd Chibouke,10

And mounting featly for the mead,
With Maugrabee " and Mamaluke,

His way amid his Delis took, 12
To witness many an active deed
With sabre keen, and blunt jerreed.
The Kislar only and his Moors

Watch'd well the Haram's massy doors.

IX.

His head was lea... upon his hand,

His eye look'd o'er the dark-blue water That swiftly glides and gently swelis Between the winding Dardanelles ; But yet he saw nor sea nor strand, Nor even his Pacha's turban'd band

Mix in the game of mimic slaughter,
Careering cleave the folded felt 13
With sabre stroke right sharply dealt;
Nor mark'd the javelin-darting crowd,
Nor heard their Ollahs 14 wild and lond-
He thought but of old Giaffir's daughter
X.

No word from Selim's bosom broke;
One sigh Zuleika's thought bespoke:
Still gazed he through the lattice grate
Pale, mute, and mournfully sedate.
To him Zuleika's eye was turn'd,
But little from his aspect learn'd:
Equal her grief, yet not the same;
Her heart confess'd a gentler flame,
But yet that heart alarm'd or weak,
She knew not why, forbade to speak
Yet speak she must-but when essay ?
"How strange he thus should turn away!
Not thus we e'er before have met;
Not thus shall be our parting yet."
Thrice paced she slowly through the room,
And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd;
She snatch'd the urn wherein was mix'd
The Persian Atar-gul's 15 perfume,
And sprinkled all its odors o'er
The pictured roof 16 and marble floor:
The drops, that through his glittering vest
The playful girl's appeal addrest,
Unheeded o'er his bosom flew,

As if that breast were marble too.
"What, sullen yet? it must not be→
Oh! gentle Selim, this from thee!
She saw in curious order set

"

The fairest flowers of Eastern land"He loved them once; may touch them yet, If offer'd by Zuleika's hand."

The childish thought was hardly breath'd
Before the rose was pluck'd and wreathed.
The next fond moment saw her seat
Her fairy form at Selim's feet:
"This rose to calm my brother's cares
A message from the Bulbul 17 bears;
It says to-night he will prolong

For Selim's ear his sweetest song;
And though his note is somewhat sad,
He'll try for once a strain more glad,
With some faint hope his alter'd lay
May sing these gloomy thoughts away.

XI.

"What! not receive my foolish flower? Nay then I am indeed unblest:

On me can thus thy forehead lower?

And know'st thou not who loves thee best? Oh, Selim dear! oh, more than dearest !

Say, is it me thou hat'st or fearest?
Come, lay thy head upon my breast,
And I will kiss thee into rest,

Since words of mine, and songs must fail.
Even from my fabled nigtingale.

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