It will hardly be doubted that for a complete receuil of The Nights a retranslation of the Gallandian histoires is necessary. The learned Professor Gustav Weil introduced them all, Germanised literally from the French, into the Dritter Band of his well-known version—Tausend und eine Nacht; and not a few readers of Mr. John Payne’s admirable translation (the Villon) complained that they had bought it in order to see Ali Baba, Aladdin, and others translated into classical English and that they much regretted the absence of their old favourites.
But the modus operandi was my prime difficulty. I disliked the idea of an unartistic break or change in the style, ever
“Tâchant de rendre mien cet air d’antiquité,”
and I aimed at offering to my readers a homogeneous sequel. My first thought for securing uniformity of treatment was to render the French text into Arabic, and then to retranslate it into English. This process, however, when tried was found wanting; so I made inquiries in all directions for versions of the Gallandian histories which might have been published in Persian, Turkish, or Hindustani. Though assisted by the Prince of London Bibliopoles, Bernard Quaritch, I long failed to find my want: the vernaculars in Persian and Turkish are translated direct from the Arabic texts, and all ignore the French stories. At last a friend, Cameron MacDowell, himself well known to the world of letters, sent me from Bombay a quaint lithograph with quainter illustrations which contained all I required. This was a version of Totárám Sháyán (No. III.), which introduced the whole of the Gallandian Tales: better still, these were sufficiently orientalised and divested of their inordinate Gallicism, especially their longsome dialogue, by being converted into Hindustani, the Urdú Zabán (camp or court language) of Upper India and the Lingua Franca of the whole Peninsula.
During one of my sundry visits to the British Museum, I was introduced by Mr. Alexander G. Ellis to Mr. James F. Blumhardt, of Cambridge, who pointed out to me two other independent versions, one partly rhymed and partly in prose.
Thus far my work was done for me. Mr. Blumhardt, a practical orientalist and teacher of the modern Prakrit tongues, kindly undertook, at my request to english the Hindustani, collating, at the same time, the rival versions; and thus, at a moment when my health was at its worst, he saved me all trouble and labour except that of impressing the manner with my own sign manual, and of illustrating the text, where required, with notes anthropological and other.
Meanwhile, part of my plan was modified by a visit to Paris in early 1887. At the Bibliothèque Nationale I had the pleasure of meeting M. Hermann Zotenberg, keeper of Eastern manuscripts, an Orientalist of high and varied talents, and especially famous for his admirable Chronique de Tabari. Happily for me, he had lately purchased for the National Library, from a vendor who was utterly ignorant of its history, a MS. copy of The Nights, containing the Arabic originals of Zayn al-Asnam and Alaeddin. The two volumes folio are numbered and docketed “Supplément Arabe, Nos. 2522–23;” they measure 31 cent. by 20; Vol. i. contains 411 folios (822 pages) and Vol. ii. 402 (pp. 804); each page numbers fifteen lines, and each folio has its catchword. The paper is French, English and Dutch, with four to five different marks, such as G. Gautier; D. and C. Blaew; Pro Patriâ and others. The highly characteristic writing, which is the same throughout the two folios, is easily recognised as that of Michel (Mikhaíl) Sabbágh, the Syrian, author of the Colombe Messagère, published in Paris A.D. 1805, and accompanied by a translation by the celebrated Silvestre de Sacy (Chrestomathie iii. 365). This scribe also copied, about 1810, for the same Orientalist, the Ikhwán al-Safá.
I need say nothing more concerning this MS., which M. Zotenberg purposes to describe bibliographically in volume xxviii. of Notices et extraits des Manuscrits de la Bibliothèque nationale publiés par l’Académie des inscriptions et belles lettres. And there will be a tirage à part of 200–300 copies entitled Histoire d’ ‘Alá al-Dîn ou La Lampe Merveilleuse, Texte Arabe, publié par H. Zotenberg; Paris, Imprimerie Nationale, 1888; including a most important contribution:—Sur quelques Manuscrits des Mille et une Nuits et la traduction de Galland.[[1]]
The learned and genial author has favoured me with proof sheets of his labours: it would be unfair to disclose the discoveries, such as the Manuscript Journals in the Bibliothèque Nationale (Nos. 15277 to 15280), which the illustrious Galland kept regularly till the end of his life, and his conversations with “M. Hanna, Maronite d’Halep,” alias Jean Dipi (Dippy, a corruption of Diab): suffice it to say that they cast a clear and wholly original light upon the provenance of eight of the Gallandian histories. I can, however, promise to all “Aladdinists” a rich harvest of facts which wholly displace those hitherto assumed to be factual. But for the satisfaction of my readers I am compelled to quote the colophon of M. Zotenberg’s great “find” (vol. ii.), as it bears upon a highly important question.
“And the finishing thereof was during the first decade of Jamádi the Second, of the one thousand and one hundred and fifteenth year of the Hegirah (= A.D. 1703) by the transcription of the neediest of His slaves unto Almighty Allah, Ahmad bin Mohammed al-Tarádí, in Baghdad City: he was a Sháfi’í of school, and a Mosuli by birth, and a Baghdadi by residence, and he wrote it for his own use, and upon it he imprinted his signet. So Allah save our lord Mohammed and his Kin and Companions and assain them! Kabíkaj.”[[2]]