Fa-lá tas’au ilá ghayrí
U - - - | U - - - |
Fa-’indi ma’dinu ’l-khayri (Mac. N. ii. 377).
Steer ye your steps to none but me * Who have a mine of luxury
(vol. v. 65).
If in the second ’Arúz of the Wáfir, Maf’áílun (U - - -) is further shortened to Mafá’ilun (U - U -), the metre resembles the second ’Arúz of Rajaz, where, as we have seen, the latter foot can, by licence, take the place of the normal Mustaf’ilun (- - U -).
The Kámil bears a similar relation to the Rajaz, as the Wáfir bears to the Hazaj. By way of illustration we quote from Mac. N. ii. 8 the first two Bayts of a little poem taken from the 23rd Assembly of Al Hariri:—
- - U - | - - U - | U U - U - |
Yá khátiba ’l-dunyá ’l-daniyyati innahá
U U - U - | U U - U - | - - - |
Sharaku ’l-radà wa karáratu ’l-akdári
- - U - | - - U - | - - U - |
Dárun matà má azhakat fí yaumiha
- - U - | - - U - | - - - |
Abkat ghadan bu’dan lahá min dári.
In Sir Richard Burton’s translation (vol. iii. 319):—
O thou who woo’st a World unworthy, learn * ’Tis house of evils,
’tis Perdition’s net:
A house where whoso laughs this day shall weep * The next; then
perish house of fume and fret.
The ’Arúz of the first couplet is Mutafá’ilun, assigning the piece to the first or perfect (sahíhah) class of the Kámil. In the Hashw of the opening line and in that of the whole second Bayt this normal Mutafá’ilun has, by licence, become Mustaf’ilun, and the same change has taken place in the ’Arúz of the second couplet; for it is a peculiarity which this metre shares with a few others, to allow certain alterations of the kind Zuháf in the ’Arúz and Zarb as well as in the Hashw. This class has three subdivisions: the Zarb of the first is Mutafá’ilun, like the ’Arúz the Zarb of the second is Fa’alátun (U U - -), a substitution for Mutafá’il which latter is obtained from Mutafá’ilun by suppressing the final n and rendering the l quiescent; the Zarb of the third is Fa’lun (- - -) for Mútfá, derived from Mutafá’ilun by cutting off the Watad ’ilun and dropping the medial a of the remaining Mutafá.
If we make the ’Ayn of the second Zarb Fa’alátun also quiescent by the permitted Zuháf Izmár, it changes into Fa’látun, by substitution Maf ’úlun (- - -) which terminates the rhyming lines of the foregoing quotation. Consequently the two couplets taken together, belong to the second Zarb of the first ’Aruz of the Kámil, and the metre of the poem with its licences may be represensed by the scheme:
- | - | - |
U U - U - | U U - U - | U U - U - |
- | - | - |
U U - U - | U U - U - | U U - - |
Taken isolated, on the other hand, the second Bayt might be of the metre Rajaz, whose first ’Arúz Mustaf’ilun has two Azrub: one equal to the Arúz, the other Maf’úlun as above, but here substituted for Mustaf’il after applying the ’Illah Kat’ (see p 247) to Mustaf’ilun. If this were the metre of the poem throughout the scheme with the licences peculiar to the Rajaz would be:
The pith of Al-Hariri’s Assembly is that the knight errant not to say the arrant wight of the Romance, Abú Sayd of Sarúj accuses before the Walí of Baghdad his pretended pupil, in reality his son, to have appropriated a poem of his by lopping off two feet of every Bayt. If this is done in the quoted lines, they read:
- - U - | - - U - |
Yá khátiba ’l-dunyá ’l-dandy.
U U - U | U U - U - |
Yati innahá sharaku ’l-radá
- - U - | - - U - |
Dárun matà má azhakat,
- - U - | - - U - |
Fí yaumihá abkat ghadá,
with a different rhyme and of a different variation of metre. The amputated piece belongs to the fourth Zarb of the third ’Aruz of Kámil, and its second couplet tallies with the second subdivision of the second class of Rajaz.
The Rajaz, an iambic metre pure and simple, is the most popular, because the easiest, in which even the Prophet was caught napping sometimes, at the dangerous risk of following the perilous leadership of Imru ’l-Kays. It is the metre of improvisation, of ditties, and of numerous didactic poems. In the latter case, when the composition is called Urjúzah, the two lines of every Bayt rhyme, and each Bayt has a rhyme of its own. This is the form in which, for instance, Ibn Málik’s Alfíyah is written, as well as the remarkable grammatical work of the modern native scholar, Nasíf al-Yazijí, of which a notice will be found in Chenery’s Introduction to his Translation of Al-Hariri.
While the Hazaj and Rajaz connect the third circle with the first and second, the Ramal forms the link between the third and fourth Dáirah. Its measure Fá’ilátun (- U - -) and the reversal of it, Maf’úlátu (- - - U), affect the trochaic rhythm, as opposed to the iambic of the two first-named metres. The iambic movement has a ring of gladness about it, the trochaic a wail of sadness: the former resembles a nimble pedestrian, striding apace with an elastic step and a cheerful heart; the latter is like a man toiling along on the desert path, where his foot is ever and anon sliding back in the burning sand (Raml, whence probably the name of the metre). Both combined in regular alternation, impart an agitated character to the verse, admirably fit to express the conflicting emotions of a passion stirred mind.
Examples of these more or less plaintive and pathetic metres are numerous in the Tale of Uns al-Wujúd and the Wazir’s Daughter, which, being throughout a story of love, as has been noted, vol. v. 33, abounds in verse, and, in particular, contains ten out of the thirty two instances of Ramal occurring in The Nights. We quote:
Ramal, first Zarb of the first ’Arúz (Mac. N. ii. 361):
- U - - | U U - - | - U - |
Inna li ’l-bulbuli sautan fí ’l-sahar
- U - - | U U - - | - U - |
Ashghala ’l-áshika ’an husni ’l-water
The Bulbul’s note, whenas dawn is nigh * Tells the lover from strains of strings to fly (vol. v. 48).
Sarí’, second Zarb of the first ’Arúz (Mac. N. ii. 359):
U - U - | - - U - | - U - |
Wa fákhitin kad kála fí nauhihi
- - U - | - - U - | - U - |
Yá Dáiman shukran ’alà balwatí
I heard a ringdove chanting soft and plaintively, * “I thank
Thee, O Eternal for this misery” (vol. v. 47).
Khafíf, full or perfect form (sahíh), both in Zarb and ’Arúz
(Mac. N. ii. 356):
- U - - | U - U - | - U - - |
Yá li-man ashtakí ’l-gharáma ’llazí bi
U U - - | U - U - | - U - - |
Wa shujúní wa furkatí ’an habíbí
O to whom now of my desire complaining sore shall I * Bewail my
parting from my fere compellèd thus to fly (vol. v. 44).
Mujtass, the only ’Arúz (majzúah sahíhah, i.e. shortened by one foot and perfect) with equal Zarb (Mac. N. ii. 367):
- - U - | U U - - |
Ruddú ’alayya habíbí
- - U - | - U - - |
Lá hajatan lí bi-málin
To me restore my dear * I want not wealth untold (vol. v. 55).
As an instance of the Munsarih, I give the second occurring in The Nights, because it affords me an opportunity to show the student how useful a knowledge of the laws of Prosody frequently proves for ascertaining the correct reading of a text. Mac. N. i. 33 we find the line:
- U U - | - U U - | - U U - |
Arba’atun má ’jtama’at kattu izá.
This would be Rajaz with the licence Mufta’ilun for Mustaf’ilun. But the following lines of the fragment evince, that the metre is Munsarih; hence, a clerical error must lurk somewhere in the second foot. In fact, on page 833 of the same volume, we find the piece repeated, and here the first couplet reads
- U U - | - U - U | - U U - |
Arba’atun má ’jtama’na kattu siwà
U - U - | - U - U | - U U - |
Alà azá mujhatí wa safki damí
Four things which ne’er conjoin unless it be * To storm my vitals
and to shed my blood (vol. iii. 237).
The Mutákarib, the last of the metres employed in The Nights, has gained a truly historical importance by the part which it plays in Persian literature. In the form of trimetrical double-lines, with a several rhyme for each couplet, it has become the “Nibelungen”-stanza of the Persian epos: Firdausí’s immortal “Book of Kings” and Nizámi’s Iskander-námah are written in it, not to mention a host of Masnawis in which Sufic mysticism combats Mohammedan orthodoxy. On account of its warlike and heroical character, therefore, I choose for an example the knightly Jamrakán’s challenge to the single fight in which he conquers his scarcely less valiant adversary Kaurajan, Mac. N. iii. 296:
U - - | U - U | U - - | U - - |
Aná ’l-Jamrakánu kawiyyn ’l-janáni
U - - | U - U | U - - | U - - |
Jamí’u ’l-fawárisi takhshà kitálí.
Here the third syllable of the second foot in each line is shortened by licence, and the final Kasrah of the first line, standing in pause, is long, the metre being the full form of the Mutakárib as exhibited p. 246, iii. E. 1. If we suppress the Kasrah of al-Janáni, which is also allowable in pause, and make the second line to rhyme with the first, saying, for instance:
U - - | U - U | U - - | U -
Aná ’l-Jamrakánu kawiyyu ’l-janán
U - - | U - - | U - - | U -
La-yakshà kitálí shijá’u ’l-zamán,
we obtain the powerful and melodious metre in which the Sháhnámah sings of Rustam’s lofty deeds, of the tender love of Rúdabah and the tragic downfall of Siyawush
Shall I confess that in writing the foregoing pages it has been my ambition to become a conqueror, in a modest way, myself: to conquer, I mean, the prejudice frequently entertained, and shared even by my accomplished countryman, Rückert, that Arabic Prosody is a clumsy and repulsive doctrine. I have tried to show that it springs naturally from the character of the language, and, intimately connected, as it is, with the grammatical system of the Arabs, it appears to me quite worthy of the acumen of a people, to whom, amongst other things, we owe the invention of Algebra, the stepping-stone of our whole modern system of Mathematics I cannot refrain, therefore, from concluding with a little anecdote anent al-Khalíl, which Ibn Khallikán tells in the following words. His son went one day into the room where his father was, and on finding him scanning a piece of poetry by the rules of Prosody he ran out and told the people that his father had lost his wits. They went in immediately and related to al-Khalíl what they had heard, on which he addressed his son in these terms:
“Had you known what I was saying, you would have excused me, and had you known what you said, I should have blamed you But you did not understand me, so you blamed me, and I knew that you were ignorant, so I pardoned you.”
L’Envoi.
Here end, to my sorrow, the labours of a quarter-century, and here I must perforce say with the “poets’ Poet,”
“Behold! I see the haven nigh at hand,
To which I mean my wearie course to bend;
Vere the main shete, and bear up with the land
The which afore is fairly to be ken’d.”
Nothing of importance now indeed remains for me but briefly to estimate the character of my work and to take cordial leave of my readers, thanking them for the interest they have accorded to these volumes and for enabling me thus successfully to complete the decade.
Without pudor malus or over-diffidence I would claim to have fulfilled the promise contained in my Foreword. The anthropological notes and notelets, which not only illustrate and read between the lines of the text, but assist the student of Moslem life and of Arabo-Egyptian manners, customs and language in a multitude of matters shunned by books, form a repertory of Eastern knowledge in its esoteric phase, sexual as well as social.
To assert that such lore is unnecessary is to state, as every traveller knows, an “absurdum.” Few phenomena are more startling than the vision of a venerable infant, who has lived half his long life in the midst of the wildest anthropological vagaries and monstrosities, and yet who absolutely ignores all that India or Burmah enacts under his very eyes. This is crass ignorance, not the naive innocence of Saint Francis who, seeing a man and a maid in a dark corner, raised his hands to Heaven and thanked the Lord that there was still in the world so much of Christian Charity.
Against such lack of knowledge my notes are a protest; and I may claim success despite the difficulty of the task. A traveller familiar with Syria and Palestine, Herr Landberg, writes, “La plume refuserait son service, la langue serait insuffisante, si celui qui connait la vie de tous les jours des Orientaux, surtout des classes élévees, voulait la devoiler. L’Europe est bien loin d’en avoir la moindre idée.”
In this matter I have done my best, at a time too when the hapless English traveller is expected to write like a young lady for young ladies, and never to notice what underlies the most superficial stratum. And I also maintain that the free treatment of topics usually taboo’d and held to be “alekta”—unknown and unfitted for publicity—will be a national benefit to an “Empire of Opinion,” whose very basis and buttresses are a thorough knowledge by the rulers of the ruled. Men have been crowned with gold in the Capitol for lesser services rendered to the Respublica.
That the work contains errors, shortcomings and many a lapsus, I am the first and foremost to declare. Yet in justice to myself I must also notice that the maculæ are few and far between; even the most unfriendly and interested critics have failed to point out an abnormal number of slips. And before pronouncing the “Vos plaudite!” or, as Easterns more politely say, “I implore that my poor name may be raised aloft on the tongue of praise,” let me invoke the fair field and courteous favour which the Persian poet expected from his readers.
(Veil it, an fault thou find, nor jibe nor jeer:—
None may be found of faults and failings clear!)
Athenæum Club, September 30, 86.
Appendix
Memorandum
I make no apology for the number and extent of bibliographical and other lists given in this Appendix: they may cumber the book but they are necessary to complete my design. This has been to supply throughout the ten volumes the young Arabist and student of Orientalism and Anthropology with such assistance as I can render him; and it is my conviction that if with the aid of this version he will master the original text of the “Thousand Nights and a Night,” he will find himself at home amongst educated men in Egypt and Syria, Najd and Mesopotamia, and be able to converse with them like a gentleman; not, as too often happens in Anglo- India, like a “Ghoráwálá” (groom). With this object he will learn by heart what instinct and inclination suggest of the proverbs and instances, the verses, the jeux d’esprit and especially the Koranic citations scattered about the text; and my indices will enable him to hunt up the tale or the verses which he may require for quotation wven when writing an ordinary letter to a “native” correspondent. Thus he will be spared the wasted labour of wading through volumes in order to pick up a line.
The following is the list of indices:—
Appendix I.
I. Index to the Tales in the ten Volumes. II. Alphabetical Table of the Notes (Anthropological, etc.) prepared by F. Steingass, Ph.D. III. Alphabetical Table of First Lines (metrical portion) in English and Arabic, prepared by Dr. Steingass. IV. Tables of Contents of the various Arabic texts. A. The Unfinished Calcutta Edition (1814-18). B. The Breslau Text (1825-43) from Mr. Payne’s Version. C. The MacNaghten or Turner-Macan Text (A.D. 1839-42) and the Bulak Edition (A.H. 1251 = A.D. 1835-36), from Mr. Payne’s Version. D. The same with Mr. Lane’s and my Version.
Appendix II.
Contributions to the Bibliography of the Thousand and One Nights, and their Imitations, with a Table shewing the contents of the principal editions and translations of The Nights. By W. F. Kirby, Author of “Ed-Dimiryaht, and Oriental Romance”; “The New Arabian Nights,” &c.