Additional Notes.
As a few notes remain to be added to the foregoing, I take the opportunity of correcting in this place some errors which have occurred while these sheets were passing through the press.
Page [157], line 1, for Berica read Berœa.
Page [160], line 19 for chemy read cheraiy, or sheraiy.
Page [167], lines 7 and 8.—It may be as well to explain that the words tavakkul bar Khudā are a Persian translation (in the text) of the Arabic tawakkal `ala-’llāhi of the Kur’ān, ch. xxxiii (not xxxvii), 3—“put thy trust in God.”
Page [169], line 19, for Trinchinopoli read Trichinopoli.
The following note, by mischance, has been omitted in its proper place (Notes on Chapter VIII):
Page [93]. “The King graciously received the present which Rūzbih offered.”—It is well known that, in all parts of the East, whoever visits a great person must carry him a present. “It is counted uncivil,” says Maundrell, p. 26, “to visit in this country without an offering in hand. All great men expect it as a tribute due to their character and authority; and look upon themselves as affronted, and indeed defrauded, when the compliment is omitted.” In the sacred writings we find mention made of this custom. For instance, 1 Samuel ix, 7: “But behold, if we go, what shall we bring the man? for the bread is spent in our vessels, and there is not a present (teshurah) to bring to the man of God—what have we?” Menachem explains teshurah to signify “an offering or gift, which is presented in order to be admitted into the presence of a King or some great man.” See also Isaiah lvii, 9, lit.: “And thou hast visited the King with a present of oil.”
“The King of Yemen and his Slave”—see page [56], and last note, page [174].—This story in Habicht’s Arabian text is entitled “The History of King Bihkard,” and the following passages may be compared with those of our text and with Lescallier, above referred to: On a certain day he went on a hunting excursion, and one of his servants shot an arrow, and it struck the King’s ear, and cut it off. The King asked: “Who shot this arrow?” The attendants instantly conducted the bowman to the front, and his name was Yatrū. Fainting from fear, he threw himself on the ground, and the King said: “Put him to death.” But Yatrū said: “O King, this fault is not of my own choice or knowledge—pardon me, then, out of thy kindness, since grace is the most gracious of actions, and oftentimes on some future day becomes a treasure and a benefit, and in the sight of God a recompense at the last day. Pardon me, then: as you avert evil from me, so will God ward off from thee a similar evil.” When the King heard these words, he admired and forgave Yatrū, yet never had he before pardoned any one.
Now this servant was of royal extraction, and had fled from his country, by reason of some transgression, and had entered the service of King Bihkard. And this is what happened to him. By chance a person who knew him passed that way, and gave information to his father, who sent him a letter, which gratified his heart and disposition; and he returned to his father, who inclined indulgently towards him. Yatrū rejoiced, and his affairs were rectified.—Compare also Lescallier and Cazotte, cited in pp. [178], [179].
Arabian Version of Abū Temām’s Mission.
(Comp. pp. [101]–103, and [212], [213].)
According to Habicht’s text, the account of Abū Temām’s delicate—not to say dangerous—mission to the King of Turkistān is very different from that of the Persian version. The King desires him to enter the harem, and see and converse with the Princess; and he proceeds thither, reflecting on the way that “Wise men have averred that whoever deprives his sight [that is, closes his eyes] no evil can attach to him; and whoever bridles his tongue hears nothing disagreeable; and whoever restrains his hand, it can neither be shortened nor lengthened.” He accordingly enters the chamber of the Princess, and sits down on the floor, gathering together the extremities of his robe. When the King’s daughter requests him to raise his head, look upon and converse with her, Abū Temām remains mute, and with downcast eyes. She then requests him to take the pearls, and the gold and silver which lie near him, but he does not extend his hand towards anything. At this the Princess is vexed, and tells her father that they have sent a blind, and deaf, and foolish ambassador; whereupon the King of Turkistān demands of Abū Temām why he had not looked upon and conversed with his daughter: he replies that he had seen everything [he should see]; and in answer to the inquiry, why he had not taken the proffered pearls, he says that it was not proper for him to extend his hand to aught that belongs to another. The King, overjoyed at his prudence, embraces him, shows him the heads of former ambassadors (see page [214], line 4), consents to give his daughter in marriage to Abū Temām’s royal master, and presents him with a robe of honour, after which Abū Temām departs, and in due course the Princess is sent to the palace of Īlan Shāh.
Arabian Version of the Conclusion of the Romance.
In Habicht’s Arabian text the conclusion is as follows (comp. pp. [115]–117):
When the youth had finished his narrative, the King said: “Still thou wouldest bewilder us with thy discourses, but the time is now come for your execution.”—At the moment when they were conducting the youth to the gallows, the robber-chief who had educated him arrived in the town. When he observed the people assembling together, he inquired the cause, and they said to him: “The King has commanded a young culprit to be executed.” The robber-chief, who wished to see the youth, immediately recognised him, and kissed him on the mouth, and said: “This youth, when a child, I found near a fountain. I adopted him, and brought him up. One day we attacked a caravan, and were driven into flight, and he was taken prisoner. Since then I have sought everywhere for him, and never could gain any news respecting him.” When the King heard this he cried aloud, threw himself on the youth, embraced and kissed him, and said: “I should have put my own son to death, and in consequence should have died of grief.” The King then unfettered the Prince, took the crown from his own head, and placed it on that of his son. The news was made public by the beating of drums and the braying of trumpets, the town was illuminated, and there arose such a shouting of joy that the birds could scarcely support themselves in the air. All prisoners were released by order of the King, and a seven days’ festival proclaimed throughout the kingdom.
On the eighth day the King placed his son at his side, and summoned all his friends, the city notables, and the viziers. To these last the Prince said: “You see now the work of God’s providence—you now perceive His aid was near.” The Viziers were struck dumb, and the King added: “I observe that on this day all the people rejoice, even the birds of the air—ye only are downcast; that is truly a proof of rancour against me. Had I listened to your advice, I should have died from the effects of despair and repentance.” The King then summoned to his presence the robber-chief, made him many presents, and said: “Whoever loves the King, let him lavish gifts on this man.” Whereupon he was so overwhelmed with presents that he could not take any more; and the King then conferred upon him the governorship of the province in which he had dwelt.
Soon afterwards the King ordered nine sets of gallows to be erected near the one already set up, and said to his son: “Thou wast guiltless—these wicked Viziers slandered thee in my eyes.” The Prince rejoined: “My crime consisted of my loyalty to thee—seeing that I removed their hands from thy treasures, they envied me, and wished my death.” “On that account,” said the King, “let their punishment now be near, for their crime is great: to destroy thee, they did not scruple to disgrace my house in the opinion of all sovereigns.” He then turned to the Viziers, and said to them: “Woe be to you! Wherewith can you excuse yourselves?” They replied: “O King, there is no excuse for us—we were unkind to the youth, and wished his misfortune, which has recoiled on us;—for him we dug a grave and have fallen into it ourselves.” Hereupon the King issued an order for their execution—“for,” said he, “God is just, and all His judgments are true.” The King afterwards lived in happiness and peacefully with his spouse and his son, until the disturber of all earthly friends reached them likewise.
WILLIAM BURNS, PRINTER, LARKHALL, LANARKSHIRE.
[1]. See Thoms’ Lays and Legends of Germany; Thorpe’s Yule-Tide Stories; Roscoe’s German Novelists.
[2]. Grimm’s German Popular Tales.
[3]. Dasent’s Popular Tales from the Norse.
[4]. Perhaps one of the most curious instances of the migrations of popular tales is the following. In Taylor’s Wit and Mirth, an excellent jest-book, compiled by the celebrated Water-Poet (temp. James I of England), we are told of a countryman who had come up to London on a visit, and some wags having set a big dog at him in sport, the poor fellow stooped to pick up a stone to throw at the brute, but finding them all rammed hard and fast into the ground, he exclaimed in astonishment: “What strange folk are these, who fasten the stones and let loose their dogs!” More than three centuries before Taylor heard this jest, the Persian poet Sa`dī related it in his Gulistān, or Rose-Garden (ch. iv, story 10 of Eastwick’s translation): “A poet went to the chief of a band of robbers, and recited a panegyric upon him. He commanded them to strip off his clothes, and turn him out of the village. The dogs, too, attacked him in the rear. He wanted to take up a stone, but the ground was frozen. Unable to do anything, he said: ‘What a villanous set are these, who have untied their dogs, and tied up the stones!’”—Here we have a jest, at the recital of which, in the 14th century, “grave and otiose” Easterns wagged their beards and shook their portly sides, finding its way, three centuries later, to London taverns, where Taylor probably heard it told amidst the clinking of cans and fragrant clouds blown from pipes of Trinidado! But how came it thither?—that is the question.
[5]. Of the numerous English translations of the Arabian Nights which have been published, that of the learned Arabist, Mr William Edward Lane, made direct from the original text, is by far the best, and will probably never be surpassed; while his elaborate and highly interesting Notes to the translation furnish the most complete account which we possess of the manners, customs, superstitions, &c., of the modern Arabians in Egypt, with which his residence in that country, and familiarity with the language as it is spoken, enabled him to become intimately acquainted.
[6]. For example: before one story (1) is ended another (2) is begun, and before it is finished another (3), springing out of the second, is commenced; then out of story 3 springs yet another story (4), which ended, number 3 is resumed and brought to an end, then number 2, after which number 1 is resumed and concluded; and then the thread of the leading story—which runs throughout the whole work, like a brook through a meadow, but often out of sight—is taken up once more;—to lead presently to a fresh complication of stories, which “beget one another to the end of the chapter!” The arrangement of the Tales in the Arabian Nights is on this plan; though not to be compared for elaboration with that of the Indian Fables, above-mentioned, still less so with the frame of Kathá Sarit Ságara.
[7]. A complete and unabridged translation of the Thousand and One Nights (the first that has appeared in English), by Mr John Payne, author of “The Masque of Shadows,” “Poems of Francis Villon,” &c., is in course of publication. The first volume, now issued to subscribers, is well printed on hand-made paper, and elegantly bound in gilt parchment. This edition is limited to 500 copies, numbered, most of which, I understand, have already been taken up.
[8]. The word Nāma (often written Namah and Nameh) signifies Book, or History.
[9]. It is probably this version that is quoted by Sa`dī, in his Bustān, book iii:
How nice comes this point in Sindibād,
That “Love is a fire—O whirlwind-like sea!”
[10]. Asiatic Journal, N.S., vols. xxxv, xxxvi, 1841.—These titles also appear on this manuscript. Mesneviyi Sindibād, “The couplet-rhymed Sindibād;” Nazmi hakim Sindibād, “Rhymed Story of the Philosopher Sindibād;” and Kitābi hakīm Sindibād, “Book of the Philosopher Sindibād.”
[11]. Wilson’s Descriptive Catalogue of the Mackenzie MSS. vol. i, p. 220.
[12]. The Thousand and One Nights: Arabian Tales. For the first time completely and fully translated from a Tunisian Manuscript, &c.
[13]. In 1792 an English translation of this work was published at Edinburgh, in 4 vols., under the title: Arabian Tales. Translated from the original Arabic into French; and from the French into English, by Robert Heron.
[14]. An English rendering of the Turkī version of the story translated into French by M. Jaubert will be found at the end of Notes on Chapter VI, pp. [189]–194.
[15]. Political and Statistical Account of the British Settlements in the Straits of Malacca. By T. J. Newbold. 2 vols. London, 1839.
[16]. Mr J. W. Redhouse has kindly furnished me, as follows, with the various meanings attached to the word Ghulām; which in the Malay romance seems to be employed as a proper name: “Gulām (not Ghulām), an Arabic word, signifies ‘a boy,’ ‘a lad.’ The Persians have made it, in their language, signify ‘a slave,’ and thence ‘a life-guardsman,’ and ‘a king’s messenger;’ whence ‘any post-messenger who travels on horse-back’—or by rail, now, in some places: all these really mean ‘a lad.’ The Turks use the word in the first and last senses—‘a lad,’ ‘a Persian post-courier.’”
[17]. The Bakhtyar Nameh, or Story of Prince Bakhtyar and the Ten Viziers. A series of Persian Tales. From a Manuscript in the Collection of Sir William Ouseley. London, 1800.—This edition includes the original text; in 1801, according to Lowndes’ Bibliographer’s Manual, an edition was published without the Persian text.
[18]. Bakhtiar Nameh, ou le Favori de la Fortune. Conte traduit du Persan. Par M. Lescallier. Paris, 1805.
[19]. See third note, page [184], and first note, p. [195].
[20]. Mr Platt would date the work a century earlier; he writes to me, as follows, on this question: “First, be it observed, the only titles of Kings mentioned in the Persian text are, Shāh, Pādishāh, Malik, and Kaisar; nowhere do we find the sovereign title of Sultān, but it occurs in Habicht’s Arabic text. This title was first borne by Mahmood ibn Sabuktakeer, A.D. 1002 (A.H. 393), and did not exist in Egypt until A.D. 1171 (A.H. 567). At page [184] of your Notes and Illustrations reference is made to the Gulistān of Sa`dī: now that work was published A.D. 1257 (A.H. 655), and it is as well to bear in mind that the poet was born A.H. 1175 (A.H. 571), and by some said to have attained the advanced age of 102, by others 116 years. The work, therefore, is more likely to have been written towards the close of, rather than after, the 13th century. Next may be considered the arms of defence and offence, which required the appointment of an armour-bearer (see page [111], line 6), viz., bow, quiver—containing broad-bladed arrows—sword, or scimitar, mace, or bludgeon, shield, and a spear, or lance; all of which were employed by the Crusaders. Now the first of the eight crusades dates A.D. 1096 (A.H. 490), and the last A.D. 1270 (A.H. 669). These considerations are connected with the Seljukian kingdom of Rūm, of which the capital was Koniah (Iconium), founded A.D. 1074 (A.H. 467), and lasted until A.D. 1307 (A.H. 707); in all, 233 years. Much confusion arises from the Ruler of the Eastern Empire being called Kaisar-ī Rūm, a title also assumed by the Seljukian dynasty. The Kaisar-i Rūm of Chapter III may allude to any occupant of the Constantinopolitan throne between the years A.D. 1257 and 1434.”
[21]. In this entertaining book a Parrot is represented as relating stories night after night, in order to prevent a merchant’s wife from carrying on a criminal intrigue during her husband’s absence. Nakshabī’s work has not yet been wholly translated into English—see foot note, page [197]. Of Kāderī’s abridgment (which is very clumsily done) a translation, together with his Persian text, was published at Calcutta, and reprinted at London in 1801. Kāderī has certainly done Nakshabī’s literary reputation no small injury, by the manner in which he has cut down the stories, and by substituting his own inexpressive and bald style for the graceful composition of the original. It is to be hoped that ere long some competent scholar will present English readers with a fair translation of Nakshabī’s excellent work, which would prove of considerable service to those interested in tracing the migrations and transformations of popular tales.—Besides the Suka Saptati, above mentioned, there is another Indian book, in Tamul, on the same plan, entitled Hamsa Vinsati, Twenty Tales of a Hamsa, or Goose, told with the same object as that of the Parrot—to keep an amorous lady at home until her husband returns.
[22]. Arabian Nights’ Entertainments. To which is added a Selection of New Tales, now first translated from the Arabic originals; also an Introduction and Notes, by Jonathan Scott, LL.D. London, 1811. 6 vols.—This edition, says Lowndes, “was carefully revised and corrected from the Arabic,” but it is not easy to discover any of the Editor’s emendations: the sixth volume consists of Scott’s additional Tales, one or two of which had been better left in the “original Arabic.”
[23]. Evidently a misprint for “literal,” since Scott accuses Cazotte of taking “liberties” with his originals, and contrasts his work with Ouseley’s more accurate translation. It is curious to find, for once, at least, a misprint proving to be no error; for Ouseley’s translation is in fact very “liberal,” and Scott assuredly could never have compared it with the text.
[24]. As the Eleventh Day, is the Story of the Freed Slave.
[25]. In allusion to the name, compounded of Bakht, Fortune, and yār, a friend, or companion.
[26]. Bihrūz and Rūzbih are compounded of the words bih, good, excellent, and rūz, day; meaning “whose day is excellent.”—Ed.
[27]. Veti-ver, Mr Platt writes to me, “is a French word, and yet I am unable to find it in any French Dictionary. It is a kind of grass, deriving its name from the Latin words veto and vermis, as it is used when dry in keeping clothes, etc. free from moths. In the Mauritius, I believe, mats and table-covers are manufactured from it.”
[28]. Morier’s Second Journey.
[29]. This is Mr Bicknell’s almost literal rendering:
If the young Magian dally with grace so coy and fine,
My eyes shall bend their fringes to sweep the house of wine.
[30]. Kīl va kāl, par va bāl, “question and answer,” “feather and wing:” a jingle of words which has a great charm to a Persian ear: “feather and wing,” pride of place; for the height of prosperity they say pār va bāl-i ikbāl.
[31]. Manzil, a day’s journey—about twenty miles.
[32]. Ottoman Poems. Translated, with Introduction, Biographical Notices, and Notes, by E. J. W. Gibb (Trübner & Co.) Page 211.
[33]. That is, a sword, the scabbard of which is ornamented with gold.
[34]. Second Journey to Persia, &c.
[35]. He would be a “friend indeed” to submit to so much consultation!
[36]. This droll story is also domiciled in Italy: see D’Israeli’s Curiosities of Literature—“On the Philosophy of Proverbs”; but the probable original is found in the Talmud, where it occurs as an addendum to the well-known tale of the emperor Hadrian and the old man who planted a fig-tree.
[37]. Compare Scott:
“When pain and anguish wring the brow,
A ministering angel thou!”
[38]. History of Muhammedanism, Second Edition, p. 322.
[39]. Sir John Malcolm’s History of Persia, vol. ii p. 585.
[40]. Russell’s Natural History of Aleppo, vol. i, chap. 3.
[41]. Meaning the Sultan himself; for the Turkish Sultans are all born of slave-women.
[42]. From Ferdusi, his Life and Writings, by S. R. (Mr Samuel Robinson), one of a series of admirable translations &c. of Persian Poetry, published some years ago, and now being reprinted for private circulation by the learned and venerable author, as a companion volume to my Arabian Poetry for English Readers.
[43]. Essai sur les Fables Indiennes.
[44]. A Century of Ghazels, or a Hundred Odes, selected and translated from the Divān of Hāfiz, by S.R. (Preliminary Notice, pp. viii, ix.)
[45]. Flowers from the “Gulistān” and “Bostān” of Sadi. By S. R.
[46]. It has long been a barbarous practice in Persia to pluck out the eyes of political offenders. Morier, in his romance of Zohrab the Hostage, represents the brutal tyrant Aga Muhammad Shāh, during the horrible massacre which followed the capture of Astrābād, as coolly counting, with the handle of his riding-switch, the number of pairs of eyes placed before him on a tray; and a reference to the account of this monster’s conduct after the capture of Kirmān, in Sir John Malcolm’s History of Persia, will show that the novelist has not exaggerated in this matter.
[47]. Nigārīn: idol-like, beautiful, embellished, a beloved object.
[48]. Under the title of Hindoo Tales (London: Strahan & Co.), Dr P. W. Jacob has issued a very readable translation of this entertaining romance.
[49]. Tibetan Tales, derived from Indian Sources. Translated from the Tibetan of the Kah-Gyur, by F. Anton Von Schiefner. Done into English, from the German, by W. R. S. Ralston, M.A. London: Trübner & Co.
[50]. Descriptive Catalogue of the Mackenzie Collection of Oriental MSS. By H. H. Wilson. Calcutta, 1828. Vol. i, p. 17.
[51]. Translated from the German of Bergmann, by Mr William J. Thoms, and published, in 1834, in his very interesting Lays and Legends of Various Nations, a work which is now become extremely scarce, and well merits being reprinted.
[52]. The King was wont to visit the well where Abū Saber lay, and to jeer and mock his practice of patience.
[53]. That is, the story of Abraha, obscurely referred to in the opening paragraph, page [56]. Abraha, we are there informed, “was the son of the King of Zangībār, who, by chance, had fallen into slavery, and never disclosed the secret to any one.” Lescallier says, that he was reduced to slavery “by some extraordinary adventure,” but the text does not explain the nature of the “adventure.”
[54]. Khōja: in its more restricted meaning, a lord, a master; Muhammad is styled Khōja-i bas o nashr, literally, “lord of the raising and dispersing,” that is, the Resurrection. In its general signification, a man of distinction, doctor, professor, &c. But the title of Khōja, like our “Mr” is now very commonly applied to any respectable person.
[55]. “Zangistān.”—The Oriental adjunct stān or istān, the participle of istādan, “to reside,” or “dwell,” denotes “place,” or “country,” whence Moghol-istān, a port of Tartary; Fars-istān, Persia; Khūz-istān, Susiana. The root of stān may be seen in our English word “station.”
[56]. “Four parasangs.”—A Persian league, about 18,000 feet in length, is Fars-sang, that is, the Stone of Persia, which Herodotus and other Greek authors term Parasanga. It seems that in ancient times the distance of a league was marked in the East, as well as in the West, by large elevated stones.
[57]. The love of Jacob for his son Joseph, and his grief at his supposed death, are proverbial amongst Muslims, and very frequently alluded to by Persian poets. In the 12th sura of the Kur’ān it is stated that Jacob became blind through constant weeping for his lost son, and that his sight was restored by means of Joseph’s inner garment, which the Governor of Egypt sent to his father by his brethren. In the Makamat of El-Hariri, the celebrated Arabian poet, are such allusions as “passed a night of sorrow like Jacob’s,” “wept more than Jacob when he lost his son.”
[58]. Probably the messenger went to Yemen in the assumed capacity of a merchant, which would render him least liable to suspicion, and also enable him to smuggle Abraha out of the city without attracting particular notice.
[59]. The same savage maxim occurs in the Anvār-i Suhailī: “When thou hast got thy enemy fast, show him no mercy.”
[60]. Islām is not, as is commonly believed in Europe, synonymous with Fatalism. “What Muhammad taught,” remarks Mr Redhouse, “what the Kur’ān so eloquently and so persistently sets forth, and what real faithful Muslims believe, conformably with what is contained in the Gospels and accepted by devout Christians, is—that God’s Providence pre-ordains, as His Omniscience foreknows, all events, and over-rules the designs of men, to the sure fulfilment of His all-wise purposes.”—El-Esmā’u-’l-Husna, “The Most Comely Names” [i.e. of God], by J. W. Redhouse, M.R.A.S. Trübner & Co., London.
[61]. There are many varieties of this amusing story in Europe as well as in Asia—whether Father Beschi found it in India or took it with him.
[62]. “The ‘Uygur’ language,” Mr J. W. Redhouse writes to me, “is simply Turkish; what we should term ‘a little provincial.’ It is very much more consistent with the Ottoman Turkish of to-day than the English of four hundred years ago was like the modern English.”
[63]. Here, surely, the Tātār translator—or adapter—anticipates the course of the narrative; since the King (unfortunately for the Vezīr Kārdār) did not possess, at one and the same time, two Vezīrs and a beautiful wife—if by the latter be meant the pious daughter of Kerdār.
[64]. Kārdān signifies “knowing affairs”—“experienced.” The meaning of Kerdār (as Kārdār is pronounced by Turks) is already given in the foregoing notes.
[65]. Lit: without whom she could not live.—Jaubert.
[66]. In M. Cazotte’s rendering of the Arabian version (French translation of the Continuation of the Thousand and One Nights), it is also the cameleer of the King of Persia, and not of King Dādīn, as in the Persian Bakhtyār, who discovers the pious maiden in the desert, and from this point to the end of the narrative M. Cazotte’s and the Turkī versions correspond.
[67]. Husain Vā`iz, in his Anvār-i-Suhailī, had probably Sa`dī’s verses in mind when he wrote: “The arrow which has leapt from the string cannot be brought back, nor can the slain person be resuscitated either by strength or gold.”
[68]. Lane’s Thousand and One Nights, Introd. p. 27.—See a more just estimate of women, cited from the Mahābharata, p. [139] of the present volume.
[69]. Dr Jonathan Scott: Notes to vol. vi. of his edition of the Arabian Nights.
[70]. The 50th Night of the India Office MS. No. 2573; and the 35th tale of Muhammad Kaderi’s abridgment. Gerrans’ English translation, 1792, comprises barely one-fifth of the Tales, only the first volume of it having been published: he probably did not meet with sufficient encouragement to complete his work.
[71]. See Lane’s Thousand and One Nights, Introduction, note 21, ch. iii, note 14; Kur’ān ii, 96.
[72]. It is perhaps hardly necessary to say that Muhammad did not profess to introduce a new religion, but simply to restore the original and only true faith, which was held and taught by Abraham, David, Solomon, and the other great prophets.
[73]. See Dr Weil’s interesting little work, entitled, The Bible, the Koran, and the Talmud, where also will be found the curious legend of how the demon Sakhr, above mentioned, by obtaining possession of Solomon’s magical signet, personated the great Hebrew King, and of the wonderful recovery of the seal-ring, and Solomon’s restoration to his kingdom.
[74]. Sir Gore Ouseley’s Biographical Notices of Persian Poets.
[75]. Arabian Nights’ Entertainments, edited by Jonathan Scott. 6 vols, 8vo. London, 1811. Vol. vi, Notes.
[76]. Morier’s Second Journey to Persia, &c.
[77]. See Lane’s Modern Egyptians.—In my Arabian Poetry for English Readers is a translation (the first that has appeared in English) of the famous Burda-Poem of El-Busīrī, contributed by Mr J. W. Redhouse, with Preface and Notes.
[78]. Called El-Fātiha; according to Sale’s translation, it is as follows:
IN THE NAME OF THE MOST MERCIFUL GOD.
Praise be to God, the Lord of all creatures; the most merciful, the King of the Day of Judgment. Thee do we worship, and of thee do we beg assistance. Direct us in the right way, in the way of those to whom thou hast been gracious; not of those against whom thou art incensed, nor of those who go astray.
[79]. The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night. Translated by Henry Torrens. Calcutta: 1838. Vol. I. Notes.—This excellent translation comprises only the first 50 Nights, and it is much to be regretted that Torrens did not live to complete a task so well begun.
[80]. Malcolm’s History of Persia, vol. ii.
[81]. Sketches of Persia, 1861 ed., page 134.
[82]. Folk-Lore students will perhaps “make a note of this.”
[83]. No. xliv of “Pleasant Stories,” in Gladwin’s Persian Moonshee, 1801.
[84]. Malcolm’s History of Persia, vol. ii, pp. 594, 5.
[85]. This Rabbinical tale has been adopted in France, where it is told of a gentleman who left his wealth to a convent, provided they gave his son “whatever they chose”—they chose the bulk of the money, which, of course, they had to restore.
[86]. Dissertation on the Literature, Languages, and Manners of Eastern Nations.
[87]. Anvar-i Suhaili, or Lights of Canopus. By Hussain Vā’iz.
[88]. The Story of Semiletka, in Mr Ralston’s Russian Folk-Tales, bears so close a resemblance to this rabbinical story, in the stratagem adopted by the wife, that we must conclude it cannot be a mere coincidence.
[89]. Chardin’s Voyages en Perse, &c., vol. ii, pp. 149, 220.
[90]. History of Persia, vol. ii, pp. 576–7.
[91]. .sp 1
A cunning man, hight Sidrophel,
That deals in Destiny’s dark counsels,
And sage opinions of the moon sells.—Hudibras.
[92]. Should the reader feel any curiosity to ascertain the sentiments entertained by Muhammadans regarding the influence of the planets upon men’s dispositions and fortunes, he will find the fullest information on the subject in Qanoon-e-Islam, or the Customs of the Moosulmans of India. By Jaffer Shureef. Translated by G. A. Herklots, M.D. London, 1832.
[93]. Dr Dasent’s Popular Tales from the Norse.
[94]. Thorpe’s Northern Mythology, vol. iii.
[95]. Popular Poetry of Persia.