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,