What then is to be said of the Abyssinian fiddle, whose squeaking voice presided at this festive board? Alas! the inharmonious sounds elicited by the grating contact of the bow might lead to the conclusion that the unhappy spirit of music was confined in the interior, and uttered harsh screams and moans as fresh tortures were inflicted upon her agonised sinews! A gourd, or a hollow square of wood, is covered with a skin of parchment as a sounding-board, and furnished with a rude neck and a single string. Years of practice have imparted to Dághie, the court buffoon, an extraordinary degree of excellence; but even he is not Paganini; and every amateur performer in the realm considering himself at perfect liberty to scrape throughout the day with soul-harrowing perseverance, unlucky, indeed, must be pronounced the site of that residence which is adjacent to the proprietor of a masanko.
As Easter day drew on to its close, the riotous mirth of uncontrolled festivity waxed louder and louder within the palace walls, whilst quarrels and drunken brawls prevailed throughout the city. The carousal continued until dark, by which time the bones of three hundred and fifty steers had been picked—countless measures of wheat had been consumed—and so many hogsheads of potent old hydromel had been drained to the dregs, that, saving the royal and munificent host, scarcely one sober individual, whether noble or plebeian, was any where to be seen.
Volume Three—Chapter Thirty Four.
Saint George’s Day.
At Kondie, in the church dedicated to the patron saint of England, lie interred the remains of Woosen Suggud, and thither, according to wont, the despot proceeded on Saint George’s day. The sepulchre of the departed monarch is screened from gaze amid a sombre grove of evergreen juniper, assuming the shapes, some of the cedar, others of the cypress and the yew:—
“Dark trees still sad when others’ grief is fled,
The only constant mourners o’er the dead.”
Kings alone are honoured with a coffin. Manufactured of sweet wood, and perforated with many apertures, it is placed on stone trestles amid clouds of frankincense, and after a season removed into the mausoleum; the walls of which are usually bedaubed with clumsy designs, intended to commemorate the exploits in the hunting field, the military actions, and the heroic achievements of the royal occupant. His Majesty’s orisons at the shrine of his father being concluded, he turned his steps to the palace, now fast falling to decay, which formed the scene of the assassination of the despotic tyrant. Surrounded by the former capital of Shoa, it occupies the bleak summit of one of the loftiest mountains in the range, and commands a magnificent prospect over the greater portion of Efát. Mamrat, now diminished from thirteen to one thousand feet, no longer loomed a giant. Through the clouds which flitted across its stern bosom lay revealed the only path by which the royal treasures are accessible; and the white peak of Wóti, rising from dense masses of timber, and terminating in a basaltic column, now formed the most conspicuous feature in the rugged landscape.
“You observe those woods,” inquired His Majesty, pointing after a long silence to the gloomy forests which stretched away towards the long white storehouses of Arámba: “they conceal a cavern into which no creature can enter and five. The man who should venture one step beyond the entrance would be seen no more. If a dog goes in, or a bird, or even a serpent, it will surely die. There is no bottom to that cave, and none can say whither it leads. Formerly people went to cut wood in the neighbourhood. A man lost his way, and was unheard of for months. His friends believed him dead. They mourned for him, and scratched their temples, and he was forgotten. Suddenly he re-appeared, reduced to a skeleton, and looking like a ghost. They brought him to me to know what should be done with him. He had lived like the guréza upon wild berries, and when I asked him what he had seen, he replied that he had seen the devil. Wóti is a bad place, and the forests take fire, and all my subjects fear to go thither.”