Ibraheem El-Móṣilee, his son Isḥák, and Mukkáriḳ[204] (a pupil of the former), were especially celebrated among Arab musicians and among the distinguished men of the reign of Hároon Er-Rasheed. Isḥáḳ El-Móṣilee relates of his father Ibraheem that when Er-Rasheed took him into his service he gave him a hundred and fifty thousand dirhems and allotted him a monthly pension of ten thousand dirhems, besides occasional presents [one of which is mentioned as amounting to a hundred thousand dirhems for a single song], and the produce of his (Ibraheem's) farms: he had food constantly prepared for him; three sheep every day for his kitchen, besides birds; three thousand dirhems were allowed him for fruits, perfumes, etc., every month, and a thousand dirhems for his clothing; "and with all this," says his son, "he died without leaving more than three thousand deenárs, a sum not equal to his debts, which I paid after his death."[205] Ibraheem was of Persian origin, and of a high family. He was commonly called the Nedeem (or cup-companion), being Er-Rasheed's favourite companion at the wine-table; and his son, who enjoyed the like distinction with El-Ma-moon, received the same appellation, as well as that of "Son of the Nedeem." Ibraheem was the most famous musician of his time, at least till his son attained celebrity.[206]

Isḥáḳ El-Mósilee was especially famous as a musician; but he was also a good poet, accomplished in general literature, and endowed with great wit. He was honoured above all other persons in the pay of El-Ma-moon, and enjoyed a long life; but for many years before his death he was blind.[207]

Mukháriḳ appears to have rivalled his master Ibraheem. The latter, he relates, took him to perform before Er-Rasheed, who used to have a curtain suspended between him and the musicians. "Others," he says, "sang, and he was unmoved; but when I sang, he came forth from behind the curtain, and exclaimed, 'Young man, hither!' and he seated me upon the couch (sereer) and gave me thirty thousand dirhems."[208] The following anecdote (which I abridge a little in translation) shows his excellence in the art which he professed, and the effect of melody on an Arab:—"After drinking with the Khaleefeh [El-Ma-moon, I think,] a whole night, I asked his permission," says he, "to take the air in the Ruṣáfeh [quarter of Baghdád], which he granted; and while I was walking there, I saw a damsel who appeared as if the rising sun beamed from her face. She had a basket, and I followed her. She stopped at a fruiterer's, and bought some fruit; and observing that I was following her, she looked back and abused me several times; but still I followed her until she arrived at a great door, after having filled her basket with fruits and flowers and similar things. When she had entered and the door was closed behind her, I sat down opposite to it, deprived of my reason by her beauty; and knew that there must be in the house a wine party.

"The sun went down upon me while I sat there; and at length there came two handsome young men on asses, and they knocked at the door, and when they were admitted, I entered with them; the master of the house thinking that I was their companion, and they imagining that I was one of his friends. A repast was brought up, and we ate, and washed our hands, and were perfumed. The master of the house then said to the two young men, 'Have ye any desire that I should call such a one?' (mentioning a woman's name). They answered, 'If thou wilt grant us the favour, well:'—so he called for her, and she came, and lo, she was the maiden whom I had seen before, and who had abused me. A servant-maid preceded her, bearing her lute, which she placed in her lap. Wine was then brought, and she sang, while we drank, and shook with delight. 'Whose air is that?' they asked. She answered, 'My master Mukháriḳ's.' She then sang another air, which she said was also mine; while they drank by pints; she looking aside and doubtfully at me until I lost my patience, and called out to her to do her best: but in attempting to do so, singing a third air, she overstrained her voice, and I said, 'Thou hast made a mistake:'—upon which she threw the lute from her lap in anger, so that she nearly broke it, saying, 'Take it thyself, and let us hear thee.' I answered, 'Well;' and, having taken it and tuned it perfectly, sang the first of the airs which she had sung before me; whereupon all of them sprang upon their feet and kissed my head. I then sang the second air, and the third; and their reason almost fled with ecstasy.

"The master of the house, after asking his guests and being told by them that they knew me not, came to me, and, kissing my hand, said, 'By Allah, my master, who art thou?' I answered, 'By Allah, I am the singer Mukháriḳ.'—'And for what purpose,' said he, kissing both my hands, 'camest thou hither?' I replied, 'As a spunger;'—and related what had happened with respect to the maiden: whereupon he looked towards his two companions and said to them, 'Tell me, by Allah, do ye not know that I gave for that girl thirty thousand dirhems, and have refused to sell her?' They answered, 'It is so.' Then said he, 'I take you as witnesses that I have given her to him.'—'And we,' said the two friends, 'will pay thee two-thirds of her price.' So he put me in possession of the girl, and in the evening when I departed, he presented me also with rich dresses and other gifts, with all of which I went away; and as I passed the places where the maiden had abused me, I said to her, 'Repeat thy words to me;' but she could not for shame. Holding the girl's hand, I went with her immediately to the Khaleefeh, whom I found in anger at my long absence; but when I related my story to him he was surprised, and laughed, and ordered that the master of the house and his two friends should be brought before him, that he might requite them; to the former he gave forty thousand dirhems; to each of his two friends, thirty thousand; and to me a hundred thousand; and I kissed his feet and departed."[209]

It is particularly necessary for the Arab musician that he have a retentive memory, well stocked with choice pieces of poetry and with facetious or pleasant anecdotes, interspersed with songs; and that he have a ready wit, aided by dramatic talent, to employ these materials with good effect. If to such qualifications he adds fair attainments in the difficult rules of grammar, a degree of eloquence, comic humour, and good temper, and is not surpassed by many in his art, he is sure to be a general favourite. Very few Muslims of the higher classes have condescended to study music, because they would have been despised by their inferiors for doing so; or because they themselves have despised or condemned the art. Ibraheem, the son of the Khaleefeh El-Mahdee, and competitor of El-Ma-moon, was a remarkable exception: he is said to have been an excellent musician and a good singer.

In the houses of the wealthy, the vocal and instrumental performers were usually (as is the case in many houses in the present age) domestic female slaves, well instructed in their art by hired male or female professors. In the "Thousand and One Nights," these slaves are commonly described as standing or sitting unveiled in the presence of male guests; but from several descriptions of musical entertainments that I have met with in Arabic works it appears that according to the more approved custom in respectable society they were concealed on such occasions behind a curtain which generally closed the front of an elevated recess. In all the houses of wealthy Arabs that I have entered, one or each of the larger saloons has an elevated closet, the front of which is closed by a screen of wooden lattice-work to serve as an orchestra for the domestic or hired female singers and instrumental performers.

To a person acquainted with modern Arabian manners, it must appear inconsistent with truth to describe (as is often the case in the "Thousand and One Nights") such female singers as exposing their faces before strange men, unless he can discover in sober histories some evidence of their having been less strict in this respect than the generality of Arab women at the present time. I find, however, a remarkable proof that such was the case in the latter part of the ninth century of the Flight, and the beginning of the tenth: that is, about the end of the fifteenth century of our era. The famous historian Es-Suyooṭee, who flourished at this period, in his preface to a curious work on wedlock, written to correct the corrupt manners of his age, says:—"Seeing that the women of this time deck themselves with the attire of wantons, and walk in the sooḳs (or market-streets) like female warriors against the religion, and uncover their faces and hands before men to incline (men's) hearts to them by evil suggestions, and play at feasts with young men, thereby meriting the anger of the Compassionate [God], and go forth to the public baths and assemblies with various kinds of ornaments and perfumes and with conceited gait; (for the which they shall be congregated in Hell-fire, for opposing the good and on account of this their affected gait;) while to their husbands they are disobedient, behaving to them in the reverse manner, excepting when they fear to abridge their liberty of going abroad by such conduct; for they are like swine and apes in their interior nature, though like daughters of Adam in their exterior appearance; especially the women of this age; not advising their husbands in matters of religion, but the latter erring in permitting them to go out to every assembly; sisters of devils and demons, etc. etc.... I have undertaken the composition of this volume."[210] A more convincing testimony than this, I think, cannot be required.

The lute (el-´ood) is the only instrument that is generally described as used at the entertainments which we have been considering. Engravings of this and other musical instruments are given in my work on the Modern Egyptians. The Arab viol (called rabáb) was commonly used by inferior performers.

The Arab music is generally of a soft and plaintive character, and particularly that of the most refined description, which is distinguished by a peculiar system of intervals. The singer aims at distinct enunciation of the words, for this is justly admired; and delights in a trilling style. The airs of songs are commonly very short and simple, adapted to a single verse, or even to a single hemistich; but in the instrumental music there is more variety.