And, save the cross above my head, Or stay the passing pilgrim's tread.” (1) (1) The circumstance to which the above story relates was not very uncommon in Turkey. A few years ago the wife of Muchtar Pacha complained to his father of his son's supposed infidelity; he asked with whom, and she had the barbarity to give in a list of the twelve handsomest women in Yanina. They were seized, fastened up in sacks, and drowned in the lake the same night! One of the guards who was present informed me, that not one of the victims uttered a cry, or showed a symptom of terror at so sudden a "wrench from all we know, from all we love." The fate of Phrosine, the fairest of this sacrifice, is the subject of many a Romaic and Arnaout ditty. The story in the text is one told of a young Venetian many years ago, and now nearly forgotten. 1 heard it by accident recited by one of the coffee-house story-tellers who abound in the Levant, and sing or recite their narratives. The additions and interpolations by the translator will be easily distinguished from the rest, by the want of Eastern imagery; and I regret that my memory has retained so few fragments of the original. For the contents of some of the notes I am indebted partly D'Herbelot, and partly to that most Eastern, and, as Mr. Weber justly entitles it, "snblime tale," the Caliph Vath. I do not know from what source the author of 1 He pass'd-nor of his name and race Of her he loved, or him he slew. (2) that singular volume may have drawn his materials; some of his incidents are to be found in the Bibliothèque Orientale; but for correctness of costume, beauty of description, and power of imagination, it far surpasses all European imitations; and bears such marks of originality, that those who have visited the East will find some difficulty in believing it to be more than a translation. As an Eastern tale. even Rasselas must bow before it; his "Happy Valley" will not bear a comparison with the "Hall of Eblis." (2) "In this poem, which was published after the two first cantos of Childe Harold, Lord Byron began to show his powers. He had now received encouragement which set free his daring hands, and gave his strokes their natural force. Here, then, we first find passages of a tone peculiar to Lord Byron; but still this appearance was not uniform : he often returned to his trammels, and reminds us of the manner of some favourite predecessor; among these, I think we sometimes catch the notes of Sir Walter Scott. But the internal tempest-the deep passion, sometimes buried, and sometimes blazing from some incidental touch-the intensity of agonising reflection, which will always distinguish Lord Byron from other writers- now began to display them- ' selves." Sir Egerton Brydges.-L. E. The Bride of Abydos, A TURKISH TALE. (1) "Had we never loved so kindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er been broken-hearted."—Burns. TO THE RIGHT HONOURABLE LORD HOLLAND, This Tale is Inscribed, WITA EVERY SENTIMENT OF REGARD AND RESPECT, BY HIS GRATEFULLY OBLIGED AND SINCERE FRIEND, BYRON. CANTO I I. KNOW (1) The Bride of Abydos was published in the beginning of December, 1813. The mood of mind in which it was struck off is thus stated by Lord Byron, in a letter to Mr. Gifford :-"You have been good enough to look at a thing of mine in MS.-a Turkish story-and I should feel gratified if you would do it the same favour in its probationary state of printing. It was written, I cannot say for amusement, nor 'obliged by hunger and request of friends,' but in a state of mind, from circumstances which occasionally occur to us youth,' that rendered it necessary for me to apply my mind to something, any thing, but reality; and under this not very brilliant inspiration it was composed. Send it either to the flames, or A hundred hawkers' load, ́t deserves no better than the first, as the work of a week, and scribbled stans pede in uno' (by the by, the only foot i have to stand on); and I promise never to trouble Know ye the land of the cedar and vine, Where the flowers ever blossom, the beams ever shine; Where the light wings of Zephyr, oppress'd with perfume, Wax faint o'er the gardens of Gul (3) in her bloom; you again under forty cantos, and a voyage between each." -L. E. "Murray tells me that Croker asked him why the thing is called the Bride of Abydos?' It is an awkward question, being unanswerable: she is not a bride; only about to be one. I don't wonder at his finding out the bull; but the detection is too late to do any good. I was a great fool to have made it, and am ashamed of not being an Irishman." B. Diary, Dec. 6, 1813.-L. E. (2) To the Bride of Abydos, Lord Byron made many additions during its progress through the press, amounting to about two hundred lines; and, as in the case of the Giaour, the passages so added will be seen to he some of the most splendid in the whole poem. These opening lines, which are among the new insertions, are supposed to have been i suggested by a song of Goethe's "Kennst du das land wo die citronen blutin."-L.E (3) "Gul," the rose. Where the tints of the earth, and the hues of the sky, 'Tis the clime of the East; 'tis the land of the SunCan he smile on such deeds as his children have done?(1) Oh! wild as the accents of lovers' farewell Are the hearts which they bear, and the tales which they tell. II. Begirt with many a gallant slave, To guide his steps, or guard his rest, Deep thought was in his aged eye; And though the face of Mussulman Not oft betrays to standers by The mind within, well skill'd to hide All but unconquerable pride, His pensive cheek and pondering brow Did more than he was wont avow. III. Let the chamber be clear'd."-The train disap pear'd "Now call me the chief of the haram guard." With Giaffir is none but his only son, And the Nubian awaiting the sire's award. "Haroun-when all the crowd that wait Are pass'd beyond the outer gate, (Woe to the head whose eye beheld My child Zuleika's face unveil'd!) Hence, lead my daughter from her tower; Her fate is fix'd this very hour: Yet not to her repeat my thought; By me alone be duty taught!" "Pacha! to hear is to obey." No more must slave to despot sayThen to the tower had ta'en his way, But here young Selim silence brake, First lowly rendering reverence meet; "Father! for fear that thou shouldst chide That-let the old and weary sleep I could not; and to view alone The fairest scenes of land and deep, To thoughts with which my heart beat high I on Zuleika's slumber broke, And, as thou knowest that for me (1) "Souls made of fire, and children of the Sun, With whom revenge is virtue." Young's Revenge. Soon turns the haram's grating key, Warn'd by the sound, to greet thee flew : IV. "Son of a slave!"-the Pacha said- Thou, when thine arm should bend the bow, Go-let thy less than woman's hand Thou see'st yon bow-it bath a string!" V. No sound from Selim's lip was heard, And started; for within his eye "Come hither, boy-what, no reply? (2) Mejnoun and Leila, the Romeo and Juliet of the East. Sadi, the moral poet of Persia. (3) Tambour. Turkish drum, which sounds at sunrise, noon, and twilight. As sneeringly these accents fell, On Selim's eye he fiercely gazed: That eye return'd him glance for glance, And proudly to his sire's was raised, Till Giaffir's quail'd and shrunk askanceAnd why-he felt, but durst not tell. "Much I misdoubt this wayward boy Will one day work me more annoy: I never loved him from his birth, And but his arm is little worth, And scarcely in the chase could cope With timid fawn or antelope, Far less would venture into strife Where man contends for fame and lifeI would not trust that look or tone: No-nor the blood so near my own. That blood-he hath not heard-no moreI'll watch him closer than before. He is an Arab(1) to my sight, Or Christian crouching in the fightBut hark! I hear Zuleika's voice; Like houris' hymn it meets mine ear: Oh! more than even her mother dear, Who blest thy birth, and bless thee now." VI. Fair as the first that fell of womankind, When on that dread yet lovely serpent smiling, Whose image then was stamp'd upon her mind— But once beguiled-and ever more beguiling; Dazzling, as that, oh! too transcendent vision To Sorrow's phantom-peopled slumber given, (1) The Turks abhor the Arabs (who return the compliment a hundred-fold) even more than they hate the Christians. (2) These twelve fine lines were added in the course of printing.-L. E. (3) This expression has met with objections. I will not refer to "Him who hath not music in his soul," but merely request the reader to recollect, for ten seconds, the features of the woman whom he believes to be the most beautiful; and, if he then does not comprehend fully what is feebly expressed in the above line, I shall be sorry for us both. For an eloquent passage in the latest work of the first female writer of this, perhaps of any, age, on the analogy (and the immediate comparison excited by that analogy) between "painting and music," see vol. iii. cap. 10. De l'Allemagne. And is not this connection still stronger with the original than the copy? with the colouring of nature than of art? After all, this is rather to be felt than described; still 1 think there are some who will understand it, at least they would have done had they beheld the countenance whose speaking harmony suggested the idea; for this passage is not drawn from imagination but memory, that mirror which Affliction dashes to the earth, and, looking down upon the fragments, only beholds the reflection multiplied!-["This morning, a very pretty billet from the Stael. She has been pleased to be pleased with my slight eulogy in the note annexed to the Bride. This is to be accounted for in several ways: firstly, all women like all or any praise; secondly, this was unexpected, because I have never courted her; and, thirdly, as Scrub says, those who have been all their lives regularly praised, by regular critics, like a little variety, and are glad when any one goes out of his way to say a civil thing; and, fourthly, she is a very good-natured crea When heart meets heart again in dreams Elysian, And paints the lost on earth revived in heaven; Soft, as the memory of buried love; Pure, as the prayer which Childhood wafts above; Her graceful arms in meekness bending VII. "Zuleika! child of gentleness! How dear this very day must tell, When I forget my own distress, In losing what I love so well, To bid thee with another dwell: Another! and a braver man Was never seen in battle's van. We Moslem reck not much of blood; But yet the line of Carasman (5) ture, which is the best reason, after all, and perhaps, the only one." B. Diary, Dec. 7, 1813.—L. E.] (4) Among the imputed plagiarisms so industriously hunted out in his writings, this line has been, with somewhat more plausibility than is frequent in such charges, included; the lyric poet Lovelace having. it seems, written "The melody and music of her face." Sir Thomas Browne, too, in his Religio Medici, says, "There is music even in beauty." The coincidence, no doubt, is worth observing, and the task of "tracking thus a favourite writer in the snow (as Dryden expresses it) of others," is sometimes not unamusing: but to those who found upon such resemblances | a general charge of plagiarism, we may apply what Sir Walter Scott says: "It is a favourite theme of laborious dulness to trace such coincidences, because they appear to reduce genius of the higher order to the usual standard of humanity, and of course to bring the author nearer to a level with his critics." Moore.-L. E. Of the line which has given rise to these strictures, "it is not only curious, but instructive," says Moore, "to trace the progress to its present state of finish. Having at first written Mind on her lip, and music in her face,' he afterwards altered it to The mind of music breathing in her face,' but this not satisfying him, the next step of correction brought the line to what it is at present."-P. E. (5) Carasman Oglou, or Kara Osman Oglou, is the principal landholder in Turkey; he governs Magnesia: those who, by a kind of feudal tenure, possess land on condition of service, are called Timariots: they serve as Spahis, according to the extent of territory, and bring a certain number into the field. generally cavalry. Unchanged, unchangeable hath stood First of the bold Timariot bands That won and well can keep their lands. Enough that he who comes to woo Is kinsman of the Bey Oglou : His years need scarce a thought employ; I would not have thee wed a boy. And thou shalt have a noble dower: And his and my united power Will laugh to scorn the death-firman, Which others tremble but to scan, And teach the messenger (1) what fate The bearer of such boon may wait. And now thou know'st thy father's will; All that thy sex hath need to know: 'Twas mine to teach obedience stillThe way to love thy lord may show." VIII. In silence bow'd the virgin's head; What could such be but maiden fears? Thrice clapp'd his hands, and call'd his steed, (2) And mounting featly for the mead, His way amid his delis took,(5) To witness many an active deed IX. His head was leant upon his hand, (1) When a pacha is sufficiently strong to resist, the single messenger, who is always the first bearer of the order for his death, is strangled instead, and sometimes five or six, one after the other, on the same errand, by command of the refractory patient; if, on the contrary, he is weak or loyal, he bows, kisses the sultan's respectable signature, and is bowstrung with great complacency. In 1810, several of these presents were exhibited in the niche of the Seraglio gate; among others, the head of the Pacha of Bagdat, a brave young man, cut off by treachery, after a desperate resistance. (2) Clapping of the hands calls the servants. The Turks hate a superfluous expenditure of voice, and they have no bells. (3) Chibouque," the Turkish pipe, of which the amber mouth-piece, and sometimes the ball which contains the leaf, is adorned with precious stones, if in possession of the wealthier orders. (4) Maugrabee," Moorish mercenaries. (5) "Delis," bravos who form the forlorn hope of the cavalry, and always begin the action. (6) A twisted fold of felt is used for scimitar practice by the Turks, and few but Mussulman arms can cut through it at a single stroke: sometimes a tough turban is used for But yet he saw nor sea nor strand, X. No word from Selim's bosom broke; And watch'd his eye-it still was fix'd: The pictured roof (9) and marble floor: The drops, that through his glittering vest The playful girl's appeal address'd, Unheeded o'er his bosom flew, As if that breast were marble too. The fairest flowers of eastern land"He loved them once; may touch them yet, If offer'd by Zuleika's hand." The childish thought was hardly breathed For Selim's ear his sweetest song ; the same purpose. The jerreed is a game of blunt javelins, animated and graceful. (7) "Ollahs," Alla il Allah, the "Leilies," as the Spanish poets call them, the sound is Ollah; a cry of which the Turks, for a silent people, are somewhat profuse, particularly during the jerreed, or in the chase, but mostly in battle. Their animation in the field, and gravity in the chamber, with their pipes and comboloios, form an amusing contrast. (8) "Atar-gul," ottar of roses. The Persian is the finest. The ceiling and wainscots, or rather walls, of the Mussulman apartments, are generally painted, in great houses, with one eternal and highly-coloured view of Constantinople, wherein the principal feature is a noble contempt of perspective; below, arms, scimitars, etc. are in general fancifully and not inelegantly disposed. (10) It has been much doubted whether the notes of this "Lover of the rose" are sad or merry; and Mr. Fox's remarks on the subject have provoked some learned controversy as to the opinions of the ancients on the subject. I dare not venture a conjecture on the point, though a little inclined to the "errare mallem," etc. tf Mr. Fox was mistaken. And though his note is somewhat sad, He'll try for once a strain more glad, With some faint hope his alter'd lay May sing these gloomy thoughts away. XI. "What! not receive my foolish flower? And know'st thou not who loves thee best! Since words of mine, and songs must fail, I knew our sire at times was stern, Ah! deem I right? the Pacha's plan- When flies that shaft, and fly it must, XII. He lived-he breathed-he moved-he felt! He raised the maid from where she knelt; His trance was gone-his keen eye shone With thoughts that long in darkness dwelt; With thoughts that burn-in rays that melt. As the stream late conceal'd By the fringe of its willows, When it rushes reveal'd In the light of its billows; As the bolt bursts on high From the black cloud that bound it, Through the long lashes round it. With life to keep, and scarce with life resign; (1) "Azrael," the angel of death. (2) The treasures of the pre-adamite Sultans. See D'Herbelot, article Istakar. (3) "Musselim," a governor, the next in rank after a Now thou art mine-that sacred oath, I know the wretch who dares demand I've arms, and friends, and vengeance near." XIII. "Think not thou art what thou appearest! My Selim, thou art sadly changed: This morn I saw thee gentlest, dearest; But now thou'rt from thyself estranged. My love thou surely knew'st before, It ne'er was less, nor can be more. To see thee, hear thee, near thee stay, And hate the night I know not why, Save that we meet not but by day; With thee to live, with thee to die, I dare not to my hope deny; Thy cheek, thine eyes, thy lips to kiss, Like this-and this-no more than this; For, Alla! sure thy lips are flame: What fever in thy veins is flushing? My own have nearly caught the same, At least I feel my cheek too blushing. To soothe thy sickness, watch thy health, Partake, but never waste, thy wealth, Or stand with smiles unmurmuring by, And lighten half thy poverty; Do all but close thy dying eye, For that I could not live to try! To these alone my thoughts aspire: More can I do, or thou require? |