But the time has come for the procession to move, and we go along slowly enough. The bride rides a mare, led by one of Shaheen's brothers, and as we pass the fountain, the people pour water under the mare's feet as a libation, and Handûmeh throws down a few little copper coins to the children. The women in the company set up the zilagheet, a high piercing trill of the voice, and all goes merry as a marriage bell. When we reach the house of Shaheen, he keeps out of sight, not even offering to help his bride dismount from her horse. That would never do. He will stay among the men, and she in a separate room among the women, until the hour of the ceremony arrives.
But the women are singing again, and this time the song is really beautiful in Arabic, but I fear I have made lame work of it in the translation:
Allah, belaly, belaly,
Allah, belaly, belaly,
May God spare the life of your sire,
Our lovely gazelle of the valley!
May Allah his riches increase
He has brought you so costly a dowry;
The moonlight has gone from his house,
The rose from his gardens so flow'ry.
Run away, rude men, turn aside,
Give place to our beautiful bride:
From her sweet perfumes I am sighing,
From the odor of musk I am dying.
Come and join us fair maid, they have brought you your dress,
Leave your peacocks and doves, give our bride a caress;
Red silk! crimson silk! the weaver cries as he goes:
But our bride's cheeks are redder blushing bright as the rose.
Dark silk! black silk! hear him now as he sings:
But our bride's hair is black, like the raven's dark wings;
With the light of our eyes with our Handûmeh sweet
No maid of the Druzes can ever compete.
She is worth all the wealth of the Lebanon domain,
All the vineyards and olives, the silk worms and grain.
And no maids of the Christians can with her compare
Tho' shining with pearls and with jewels so rare.
The house is now crowded full, the men being all in one room with Shaheen, and the women in the other room, and the court with the bride Handûmeh. One of Shaheen's brothers comes around with a kumkum, and sprinkles orange flower water in all our faces, and Khalil asks us if we wish the ceremony to take place now? We tell him that he must ask the bride and groom. So Abû Shaheen comes into the court with the old priest Eklemandus, as Shaheen's family belong to the Greek Catholic sect. Handûmeh is really a Protestant, and Shaheen has nothing to do with the priests, but the "old folks" had their way about it. A white curtain hangs across the court, and the bride stands on one side, with her bridesmaid, and all the women and girls, and on the other side is the priest with Shaheen, and all of the men and boys. Then candles were distributed, and lighted, and the old priest adjusted his robes and began to read the marriage service. An assistant stood by his side looking over his shoulder, and responding Amen in a loud and long drawn voice. At length the priest called out to him, "A little shorter there on those Amens. We don't want long Amens at a wedding!" This set the whole crowd laughing, and on he went reading passages of Scripture, prayers and advice to the bride and bridegroom in the most hasty and trifling manner, intoning it through his nose, so that no one could understand what he was saying. While he was reading from the gospel about the marriage at Cana of Galilee, a small boy, holding a lighted candle, came very near burning off the old man's beard, and he called out to him, "Put out your candle! You have tormented my life out of me with that candle." This raised another laugh, and on he read. Then he took two rings, and drawing aside the curtain, placed one on the bride's head, and the other on the bridegroom's head, pronouncing them man and wife, and then gave them each a sip of wine and the ceremony was concluded, all the men kissing Shaheen, and the women Handûmeh. Refreshments were then served to the guests from the village, and a dinner to those from other villages. In the evening there assembled a great company in Shaheen's house, and the hour was given up to story telling. Saleh, whose brother married Shaheen's sister, will begin with the Story of the Goats and the Ghoul.
Once there was a Nanny Goat, strong and powerful, with long and strong horns, and once upon a time she brought forth twin kids, fair and beautiful. One was named Sunaisil, and the other Rabab. Now the Nanny Goat went out every morning to the pasture, leaving her twin kids in the cave. She shut the door carefully, and they locked it on the inside through fear of the Ghoul, for her neighbor in the next house was a Ghoul who swallowed little children alive. Then at evening when she came home, she would stand outside the door, and sing to her twin kids this little song:
Hearken now Sunaisil,
Come Rabab my dear:
Open to your mother,
Never, never fear.
She has sweet milk in her udder.
Tufts of grass upon her horn;
She'll give you both your supper,
And breakfast in the morn.
The little twin kids would know her voice, open the door in gladness, and eat a hearty supper, and after hearing a nice story from the Anzîyeh, (for so their mother was called), drop off to sweet sleep.
Now all things went on well for some time, until one day the Ghoul neighbor being very hungry for a supper of twin kids, came to the door of the cave and tried to push it open. But it was too strong for her, so she went away in perplexity. At length she thought she would sing to them the very song, which the Nanny Goat sang to them every evening on her return, so she sang it:
Hearken now Sunaisil,
Come Rabab, my dear, etc., etc.