[235]. Arab. “Ta’rísak,” with the implied hint of her being a “Mu’arrisah” or shepander. The Bresl. Edit. (xii. 356) bluntly says “Kiyádatak”—thy pimping.
[236]. Arab. “Rafw”; the “Rafu-gar” or fine-drawer in India, who does this artistic style of darning, is famed for skill.
[237]. The question sounds strange to Europeans, but in the Moslem East a man knows nothing, except by hearsay, of the women who visit his wife.
[238]. Arab. “Ahl al-bayt,” so as not rudely to say “wife.”
[239]. This is a mere abstract of the tale told in the Introduction (vol. i. 10–12). Here, however, the rings are about eighty; there the number varies from ninety to five hundred and seventy.
[240]. The father suspected the son of intriguing with one of his own women.
[241]. Arab, and Heb. “Laban” (opp. to “laban-halíb,” or simply “halíb” = fresh milk), milk artificially soured, the Dahin of India, the Kisainá of the Slavs and our Corstophine cream. But in The Nights, contrary to modern popular usage, “Laban” is also applied to fresh milk. The soured form is universally in the East eaten with rice and enters into the Salátah or cucumber-salad. I have noted elsewhere that all the Galactophagi, the nomades who live on milk, use it in the soured never in the fresh form. The Badawi have curious prejudices about it: it is a disgrace to sell it (though not to exchange it), and “Labbán,” or “milk-vendor,” is an insult. The Bráhni and Beloch nomades have the same pundonor possibly learnt from the Arabs (Pilgrimage i. 363). For ‘Igt (Akit), Mahir, Saribah, Jamídah and other lactal preparations, see ibid. i. 362.
[242]. I need hardly say that the poison would have been utterly harmless, unless there had been an abrasion of the skin. The slave-girl is blamed for carrying the jar uncovered because thus it would attract the evil eye. In the Book of Sindibad the tale appears as the Story of the Poisoned Guests; and the bird is a stork.
[243]. The Prince expresses the pure and still popular Moslem feeling; and yet the learned and experienced Mr. Redhouse would confuse this absolute Predestination with Providence. A friend tells me that the idea of absolute Fate in The Nights makes her feel as if the world were a jail.
[244]. In the Book of Sindibad this is the Story of the Sandal-wood Merchant and the Advice of the Blind Old Man. Mr. Clouston (p. 163) quotes a Talmudic joke which is akin to the Shaykh’s advice and a reply of Tyl Eulenspiegel, the arch-rogue, which has also a family resemblance.