The sun is rising all so bright
Upon the Pasha's daughter:
See her toss the tassels blue,
As her mother taught her.
Turn the oxen on the roof
Of the village priest;
He will kill them one and all,
And give the poor a feast.
The boys seem to be in high glee. They all know Handûmeh and her betrothed Shaheen Ma'ttar, so they are swinging and singing in honor of her wedding.
But the time has come for the wedding, and we will go over to Ain Kesûr, about a mile away, and join in the bridal procession. As we come near the house we hear the women inside singing. They have been dressing the bride, and after she is dressed they lead her around and try to make her dance. Perhaps they will let us see how she is dressed. Her head is covered with a head-dress of pink gauze, embroidered with gold thread and purple chenille, and ornamented with pearl beads and artificial flowers, and over all a long white gauze veil trimmed with lace. Her ear-rings are gold filigree work with pendant pearls, and around her neck is a string of pure amber beads and a gold necklace. She wears a jacket of black velvet, and a gilt belt embroidered with blue, and fastened with a silver gilt filigree buckle in the form of a bow knot with pendants. On her finger is a gold ring set with sapphire, and others with turquoises and amethysts. Her dress is of brown satin, and on her arms are solid gold bracelets which cost 1400 piastres or fifty-six dollars. You know Handûmeh is not a rich girl, and her betrothed is a hard working muleteer, and he has had to work very hard to get the money to buy all these things, for it is the custom for the bridegroom to pay for the bride's outfit. The people always lay out their money in jewelry because it is easily carried, and easily buried in time of civil wars and troubles in the land. Shaheen's brothers and relatives have come to take her to Abeih, but he is nowhere to be seen. It would not be proper for him to come to her house. For weeks she has not been over to Abeih, except to invite us to her wedding, and when Anna asked her on what day she was to be married, she professed not to know anything about it. They think it is not modest for a bride to care anything about the wedding, and she will try to appear unwilling to go when they are ready to start. The women are singing now:
Dance, our bride so fair,
Dance and never care;
Your bracelets sing, your anklets ring,
Your shining beauty would dazzle a king!
To Damascus your father a journey has made,
And your bridegroom's name is Abû Zeid.
And now the young men outside are dancing and fencing, and they all join in singing:
Dance, my dancer, early and late,
Would I had like you seven or eight;
Two uncles like you, blithe and gay,
To stand at my back in the judgment day!
And now the young men, relatives of the bridegroom, address the brother of the bride, as her father is not living, and they all sing:
O brother of the bride, on a charger you should ride;
A Councillor of State you should be;
Whene'er you lift your voice,
The judgment halls rejoice,
And the earth quakes with fear
From Acre to Ghuzeer.
And now the warlike Druzes, who are old friends of Shaheen and his father, wish to show their good will by singing a wedding song, which they have borrowed from the old wild inhabitants of this land of Canaan:
O brother of the bride, your mare has gnawed her bridle,
Run for the blacksmith, do not be idle.
She has run to the grave where are buried your foes,
And pawed out their hearts with her iron shoes!