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ANTAR,
A BEDOUEEN ROMANCE.
TRANSLATED FROM THE ARABIC.
BY TERRICK HAMILTON, ESQ.
ORIENTAL SECRETARY TO THE BRITISH EMBASSY
AT CONSTANTINOPLE.
LONDON:
JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE-STREET.
1819.
London: Printed by W. Bulmer and Co.
Cleveland Row, St. James’s.
INTRODUCTION.
The Translator of “The History of Antar” being out of England, it is not
in the Editor’s power to give to the reader much preliminary information
on the contents or nature of the Epic Tale, which is now for the first
time in part submitted to the European Public.
Antar is no imaginary personage. He was the son of an Arab Prince of
the tribe of Abs, by a black woman, whom his father had made captive in
a predatory excursion: and he raised himself by the heroic qualities
which he displayed from his earliest youth, and by his extraordinary
genius for poetry, from the state of slavery in which he was born, to
the confidence of his king, and to a preeminence above all the Chiefs of
Arabia. He flourished during the close of the sixth, and the early part
of the seventh century, of the Christian æra; there is, consequently,
little or no allusion to the customs or institutions of Islamism
throughout the work; though the Hero is frequently designated as “He by
whom God organized the earth and the world for the appearance of the Lord
of slaves.”
The following Romance, as it may be called, was first put together,
probably from traditionary tales current at the time, by Osmay, one of
the eminent scholars, who adorned the courts of Haroun-al-Raschid, and
of his two learned successors, Al-Amyn, and Al-Mamoun; and it still
continues to be the principal source whence the story-tellers of the
coffee-houses in Egypt, Syria, and Arabia, draw their most interesting
tales: but, notwithstanding, its general circulation in the Levant, the
name of Antar is hitherto only known to us in Europe, as that of the
Author of one of the seven poems, suspended in the temple of Mecca, and
from that circumstance called, _The Moallakat_.
The Author of this poem, and the Hero of our history, are identified, as
well by the similar names which occur; in both; as by the insertion of
the poem itself in the body of the history, when, after much persecution
and opposition, Antar at length succeeds in suspending the poem within
the Holy Sanctuary which surrounds the Kaaba.
There is reason to believe that this is the first attempt to transpose
into an European language, a real Arabian story, depicting the original
manners of the Arabs of the desert, uncorrupted by the artificial and
refined customs of the neighbouring cities in Syria, Egypt, and Persia.
The characteristics of the real Arabs or Bedowins are here presented
in their native simplicity. An eager desire for the property of
their neighbour; an unconquerable fondness for strife and battle; a
singular combination of profuse hospitality, with narrow economy—quick
perception—deep cunning—great personal courage, a keen sense of honour,
respect for their women, and a warm admiration and ready use of the
poetical beauties of their unrivalled language.
The supposition of the learned orientalist Mons. Langlès, that the
Thousand and One Nights were originally composed in the Pehlevi, or the
old Persian, and from that language translated into Arabic, appears
still more probable, when we observe the rich and gorgeous descriptions
of the works of art and nature which abound in them, their enchanted
palaces—their sultans and viziers, and all the attendant magnificence of
a court; their genii and magicians—their want of individual character
in the leading personages;—and when we contrast with those details the
simple manners of the Kings and Chieftains of the desert, pourtrayed
in this Romance; their rude tents; the familiarity with which they
live amongst each other, controuled only by the rules of patriarchal
authority; the almost total absence of supernatural agents; and above
all, the striking distinctions of character, which mark the whole
progress of the story. In this work indeed, The Subordination of the
warriors and others, whether of high or low rank, to the irresistible
Antar; in undaunted courage; in active prowess; in intellectual
acquirements; in public spirit; in the ardour of his love; in the
excellence of his poetry; and in acts of private generosity and
benevolence, is strictly consistent with the best rules which the Critics
have derived from the Homeric writings, for the conduct of the Heroic
poem.
In an adherence to these rules indeed, the early European writers of
Romantic Adventures, who followed the age of Charlemagne, and to whom,
perhaps, Antar was better known than to their successors, did not
follow the steps of their prototype. But whether he really deserve that
appellation, that is, whether from the frequent intercourse between the
Eastern and Western kingdoms of the Roman world, in the 8th, 9th and 10th
centuries, our Romance writers imbibed their taste for the adventures of
Chivalry from this singular Tale, is a question, to the solution of which
we may look forward, when the whole of it shall be before the public.
It may be observed, however, that little more was wanting in order to
compose the Romances of the middle age, than to engraft on the war,
love, and courtesy of the Arabs, the splendid and soft luxuries of the
other countries of the East, the witchcraft of Africa, the religious
fervour of the South of Europe, and the gloomy superstitions of the North.
The Editor abstains from adding any further observations at present
upon this subject. It had been his intention to request the indulgence
of the reader for the oriental phraseology which frequently occurs in
the following pages; but he prefers leaving the public to form their
own opinion, how far the Translator has rightly judged, in presenting a
literal translation of his original, by which the Arabic idioms might be
best preserved, rather than (by giving to it a strictly English dress,
and thereby destroying its native freshness,) to have been led into
an indulgence of ornament, which would have been equally remote from
the nice refinement of the languages of Europe, and from the copious
simplicity of that of the desert.
LIFE AND ADVENTURES OF ANTAR.
CHAPTER I.
Ishmael, son of Abraham, was the father of Adnan, who had a son called
Maad; and Maad was the father of Nizar, whose four sons, Rebeeah, Medher,
Ayad, and Anmar, reigned over the Arabs in great glory for many years,
and their descendants continued to flourish and multiply till they
amounted to twenty thousand horsemen, when disturbances arising among
them, they separated and migrated from the valley of Mecca and the holy
sanctuary, and many of them settled in a spot called Ibreem-oob-mootemim,
which was the furthermost point of Hijaz, and the first in the land of
Yemen. And they had a king called Rebeeah, a man much respected and
feared, and he was of the tribe of Medher, a fair-raced people; and
he had five sons, the eldest was called Nayil, the second, Taweed, the
third, Mohelhil, the fourth, Medher, and the fifth, Adee; and their
father was a stout and intrepid warrior, he conquered the whole country
by his bravery, and ruled over the wilds and the deserts.
Again the Arabs disagreed amongst themselves and dispersed, and every
division had its chief and its leader. They carried away their property
and their camels, and among them was Harith, son of Obad the Yashkirite,
with the tribe of Yashkir, and the chief Dibyan with the tribe of Dibyan,
and the chief Abd Shems with his tribe, and Jazeemah with the tribe of
Abs and Adnan, and Bahiej with the tribe of Ghiftan; and it was Jazeemah,
King of the tribe of Abs and Adnan that attacked Rebeeah, and having
slain him, appointed Mohelhil to succeed his father. But on the death of
Mohelhil all his cousins went away with their property and camels, afraid
of the surrounding Arabs, and settled with the tribe of Abs and Adnan,
and their chief Jazeemah; and among all the Arabs there was no government
better regulated than his, for he was experienced in all affairs, and
had ten sons who were all hardy lions, bold, endued with great bodily
strength, and in war they were unrivalled; they courted battles and
plunged into slaughter, and their reputation was spread among the Arabs,
and among them were Amroo and Jancah, and Asyed and Zoheir, and the
rest of the ten brothers. But Amroo was the eldest, and King Jazeemah
hoped that Amroo would reign at his death. But one day Amroo went to the
lake Zatool Irsad, early in the morning, and with him was a slave called
Nizah; and Amroo had round his neck a chain of gold studded with jewels
and diamonds; and when he came to the lake he stripped off his clothes,
and took off the string of jewels from his neck, and then going down into
the lake left them all with his slave. When he sprang into the water and
plunged in, his body disappeared, and was borne away.
The slave perceiving that his master remained too long under water, felt
assured that his breath was extinct; so he ran away to Jazeemah, and told
him of this dreadful catastrophe. He was in the deepest grief, and he
dashed his fist against his face for the loss of his son Amroo. Over the
whole tribe the dismay was general, the affliction was universal, and the
lamentations deep. Many days and nights they remained in this state, when
at last King Jazeemah, wishing to relieve his mind from his anguish, went
out to the chase, and whilst he was thus occupied, lo! there appeared
a fawn, which he eagerly pursued; but as it launched into the waste in
full flight, he could not catch it. Still he hoped to succeed; but at
last it entered a forest abounding in trees, and waters, and thickets,
and Jazeemah still pursued it. And whilst he was struggling through
the branches, behold a man quite naked stood before him! He fled away
in terror, fancying that it was a dæmon; O King! exclaimed the man, be
not afraid, for I am thy son Amroo! If thou art my son, cried the King,
follow me and quit this spot. Jazeemah issued from the forest, and the
man coming up with him, he gazed at him, and lo! he was his son! He was
greatly rejoiced, and running up to him, O my son, said he, what has
happened to thee! who brought thee to this place? and thou art naked! So
he explained all that had occurred to him, and the cause of his being
snatched away from the lake was a dæmon, who bore him to this place. His
father joyed in seeing him, and clothed him in some of his own garments,
and returned with him to his tribe and companions, and unbounded was the
delight and satisfaction at the return of Amroo. Acclamations were loud,
and the time passed happily away, and they forgot the evils of fortune.
All the Arabs took refuge with King Jazeemah, and paid him taxes and
tribute, and there was not one but obeyed him and submitted, save a
single Queen, who was called Robab. And this Queen was very powerful, and
had numerous armies and slaves. She had subdued the heroes, and humbled
the bravest, and her tribe, was the most intrepid of the Arabs, and they
were called the tribe of Reeyan. And when they heard that King Jazeemah
was become powerful and had extended his influence, and that the Arabs
gave him tribute in cattle and camels; We, said they, will not give any
one even a rope’s end, and whoever demand goods of us, nothing will we
give them but blows and battle.
Upon hearing this, Jazeemah assembled his armies and warriors, and the
Arabs came to him from all the vallies and the waters, and he marched
away with them in quest of the tribe of Reeyan, and their Queen Robab,
that he might send down destruction and torments upon them, and leave
their property to be pillaged by the Arabs. Now when the tribe of Reeyan
saw those armies that were advancing upon them, they set up a loud shout,
and they thronged in haste from all quarters, and the mountains trembled
at the uproar. This tribe was exceedingly numerous, and moreover, they
had been joined by a great multitude who came to them and settled round
them, to be under the protection of that tribe and their Queen Robab; so
great was her reputation, and so far famed her name.
And when the armies arrived and were all established about her, they
waited in anxious expectation of the event. So the Queen summoned one
of her tribe, a man of great consequence, and said to him—I wish thou
wouldst go to these advancing people, and see what they are resolved to
do, what place they come from, and what they want. The man went away; and
when he came up with the troops, they stopped. Whither in such haste?
they cried; speak ere thou art a lost man! Arabs, said he, I am come as a
messenger to ye; I want to see your chief. Tell me what is your object;
who are you? how are you called? We are the noble tribe of Abs, said
they; and we are come to devastate your lands, and plunder your property,
and capture your wives and families. Arab Chiefs, he replied, shew me
your King, lead me to him, that I speak with him about the object of this
expedition. They accordingly introduced him to the King, and he kissed
the ground before him. Jazeemah asked what he wanted, and what brought
him there. So he told him that Robab had sent him. O King! he continued,
what has brought thee forth from thy country? What is the cause of thy
departure from home? He then informed him that he was come to slay the
people, and to plunder their property. Mighty King! said the other,
may God for ever confirm thee in thy possessions! Why wouldst thou act
thus towards us? On account of your refractory conduct towards me, said
Jazeemah, and the language I have heard; for all the Arabs have submitted
to my rule, and obeyed my call, and give me tribute and taxes, all but
you, ye cowards! and I have heard of your base designs. But I must assail
you without further preparation, and I shall command these armies,
numerous as the locusts, to assault you, and to grind you like grain, and
to ride you like lions. Return then to her who sent thee, and tell her
what I have said to thee.
So the messenger returned with this answer; and when he reached Robab,
he communicated all he had heard to her. Away back to him, said she, and
tell him to-morrow morning to sally forth into the plain, and to meet me
in the field of battle before these horsemen. If he subdues me, I will
submit to him and pay him tribute; but if I vanquish him, I will grant
him his life, and take his ransom, and by this means we shall spare the
lives of the people, and be released from war and carnage, and then
return home to our country.
The messenger returned to King Jazeemah, and informed him of the
conditions Robab had proposed. He agreed, and consented, and immediately
he came down to the field, and he was like a furious lion; he galloped
and charged before the warriors, and rushed in to the scene of blows and
thrusts. Queen Robab dashed down on him, mounted on a raven-coloured
steed, strong-sinewed. She charged with him over the plain till the
horsemen were amazed. Then they began the storm and bluster, the sport
and exertion, the give and take, the struggle and the wrestle, and
every eye gazed intently on them, and every neck was stretched out at
them. Just then passed between them two matchless spear-thrusts. King
Jazeemah’s was the first, so roused was he by the terrors and calamities
that threatened him. But when Robab beheld the spear-thrust coming upon
her, and that death was in it, she bent herself forward till her breast
touched the horse, and the well-aimed thrust passed without effect. She
then replaced herself on her saddle, and dashed furiously at him, and
attacked him; she struck him with horror, and drove the spear through
his chest, and forced out the point sparkling at his back. He tottered
from his horse, and his senses were annihilated. Then the Arabs assailed
one another, and the earth shook beneath them. Blows fell right and
wrong, necks were hewn off, and hoary beards were stained with blood.
The struggle was intense; and all the Arabs in those vallies were in
universal commotion, like so many Genii.
Soon fled the tribe of Abs and Adnan and all their allies, and sought
their homes and abodes in fear of death and annihilation; neither did
they halt in their flight and rout till they reached their own camp;
and when they learnt the extent of their misfortune, and how many kings
and chiefs had been slain, the lamentations were general. Calamities
struck them all; they threw down their tents and pavilions; and thus
they continued seven days and nights, when King Amroo seated himself
on the throne of his father, and the Arabs came to condole with him,
and congratulated him on his kingdom. But he lived only a short time,
and when he died his brother Zoheir succeeded him, and reigned in
glory and power. His authority was universally acknowledged, and the
Arabian tribes, far and near, obeyed and feared him. His subjects were
happy under his dominion, on account of his great influence, and chiefs
hastened to testify their allegiance. As soon as he was established on
his throne he resolved on taking his revenge, and for this purpose he
assembled his armies and auxiliaries, and demanded the presence of all
the Arabian princes.
In a short time his troops were all prepared, and immediately he set
out on his expedition against the hostile tribe of Reeyan and their
Queen Robab. He stopped not till he entered their country. As soon as
the Princess was informed of this invasion, she called together her
adherents, who came from all parts and from the mountains; but they
feared for their families, and their wives, and their cattle and camels.
They marched eagerly to the conflict, and delayed not a moment till they
attacked the tribe of Abs: they rushed forwards with the intention to
destroy them. The two tribes soon engaged. Fierce was the combat and
loud the clamour on all sides. The battle raged; dreadful were the blows
of the sabre, and frequent the rush of darts and javelins; numbers were
wounded; every warrior stood firm; but the cowards fled: patient were
the noble hearted, but the weak sought safety in flight. Many drank the
bitter poison of death. King Zoheir encountered the queen of Reeyan on
the field of battle, whilst she was encouraging her troops. The King
furiously assaulted her, and exclaimed, “Revenge for King Jazeemah.” He
then hurled his lance and struck her on the chest, and forced out the
weapon between her shoulders, and again cried out—O by the noble Arabs!
Their only reply was a loud scream, and the battle still continued. But
when the tribe of Reeyan saw the Princess dead, and perceived their
attempts were frustrated, they were alarmed. Then rushed forward the
tribe of Abs, and attacked them with renewed violence. The Reeyanians
were routed, and fled towards their habitations;—the Absians pursued
them, and spread desolation among them; slew them with their swords,
and dispersed them amongst their wilds and deserts, until they reached
their country, where they took possession of their tents and plundered
their property. Zoheir returned home and rejoiced in the execution of his
vengeance. He divided the wealth and lands of all that belonged to his
enemies among his own people, and all the spoil was given to the rich and
poor, to his slaves and his chiefs. Many of the hostile leaders were put
to death: all the Arabs far and near were terrified at the extent of his
dominion, and the power of his arm.
At this period the Caaba and the holy Mecca were visited, as at this
day. Numerous were the pilgrims at the shrine of Abraham. Sacred were
the months of pilgrimage; and had a man even killed his father at that
period, his crime was never mentioned. Zoheir, after he had accomplished
these glorious deeds, wished to make a pilgrimage; which he executed,
attended by all the chiefs of his tribe. His admiration was great in
performing the ceremony of walking round the Caaba, and in kissing the
sacred stone. On his return home, he was anxious to erect a building
similar to the sacred altar, whither pilgrims should resort, where
travellers might be entertained, and the hungry fed, and the fearful be
in security; in whose precincts no beasts of prey should be chased; no
blood should be shed; and a transgressor of my law shall be instantly put
to death with this sword, he exclaimed. These sentiments he expressed to
his tribe assembled in council. All were in dismay at this resolution,
but no one dared to disapprove or make any answer. But an old Shiekh,
who had passed all his days in perusing ancient chronicles, and was well
acquainted with all the sayings of the wise men, who acknowledged the
unity of God, the maker of the heavens and the earth, ventured forth,
and expostulated with Zoheir, telling him the Caaba was the mansion of
the blessed Abraham, and were he to presume to imitate it, a cruel death
would avenge the insult; and thus he addressed him:—
“O great King, O Son of noble chiefs! hold and listen to my words, and
renounce the habits of the ignobly born. Mount not the horse of Outrage,
for it will not rescue thee from the messengers of Death: and soon mayest
thou expect him, should’st thou erect in the desert a mansion like the
sacred shrine of the Caaba shouldst thou establish similar rites and
ceremonies and resemblances to Menah and Zengein and the temple. Away,
away, their land is the land of a tribe superior to all mankind; and from
them shall appear a noted man, the prophet of God, the torch of darkness,
whose faith shall extend east and west with the death bearing-sword of
a noble warrior. Away with what thou hast said, for thy God is swift of
vengeance.”
The King was not easily dissuaded, but at last gave way to the argument
of the Chief, and no longer persisted in his resolution: he was moreover
induced to resign his plan in compliance with all his Chiefs, who
seconded the word of the Shiekh. In this situation remained King Zoheir
for some years; when he became anxious to marry, and to take a wife
eminent for her beauty, and elegance of form, and of a noble family. He
made all enquiries on the subject, and at last heard there was an Arab,
strong and mighty in arms, and a famous horseman, called Amroo, son of
Shedeed, and he had a daughter whose name was Temadhur, whose equal was
to be found neither in the plains nor in the cities. Her father was a
severe man, and would let no one address her, saying his daughter would
not marry. When Zoheir heard this, he longed for her as a thirsty man
wishes to have water. He pictured to himself her perfections, before
he had ascertained her worth by enquiries. However, he did not send to
demand her in marriage, but made her father some handsome presents, and
evinced the greatest fondness for him, making him one of his particular
companions, and thus gained his affections. He then persuaded him to come
and settle in his country expressing his great love for him; and thus he
never ate or drank but in his society.
The excess of his passion increased daily, to such a degree, that he
resolved to assemble a party of his followers called the tribe of
Ghorab, and instruct them to attack the family of Amroo, and plunder
his property, but not to kill any one, or do any personal injury. So by
this stratagem he expected to discover Temadhur among his prisoners, and
then have an opportunity of speaking to her. The tribe of Ghorab were
accordingly ordered on this expedition, and instantly they set out, in
number five hundred. Without difficulty they seized the property, took
Amroo prisoner with his wife and family, and plundered his camels and
cattle, but refrained from slaying any one. When the King heard what
had happened, he mounted his horse in order to behold what he anxiously
desired. He found them in dismay, expecting assistance from the tribe
of Abs. The family were looking at their flocks dispersed about, but
Temadhur was standing at the door of the tent, blooming as the dawning
sun, and her forehead bright as its rays, and her cheeks were red as the
piony, her hair dishevelled, black as night. When Zoheir saw this, his
passion greatly increased; he cried out, and instantly his people rushed
forward and furiously attacked the tribe of Ghorab: the women fled, but
Zoheir ordered Rebia, son of Jead, to hide Temadhur under her veil, which
was accordingly done.
Thirty prisoners were secured belonging to the tribe of Ghorab; they and
their property were delivered up; and when quiet was restored, the King
ordered a magnificent feast to be prepared, that he might make merry with
his tribe and followers. They and the father of Temadhur soon assembled
together, and in less than an hour grief was converted into joy; the wine
was plentifully distributed, and the uproar was great. The King soon
became intoxicated, and launched out into violent praise of Amroo the son
of Shedeed; and he ceased not to extol and laud his deeds till the tears
came into his eyes, and the wine disordered his senses. Then Amroo got on
his legs and addressed Zoheir:—O mighty and magnanimous King, I am your
slave. My tongue fails in description of your virtues. God has given me
nothing that I prize but my daughter Temadhur, from whom I have kept all
suitors. I request of ye, assembled Chiefs, that he may accept her as his
handmaiden.
As soon as Zoheir heard this, he rejoiced and was glad; and the Absians
answered, and we too will beg King Zoheir to accept her, and to cause
the daughters of noble chiefs to wait on her. As soon as Zoheir heard
these words, he leaped up, and taking the old man by the hand, most
earnestly entreated him to consent. He richly clothed him, and made him
handsome presents, and then said, She shall be, O Chief, equal to the
most elevated in rank, and highest in dignity. The marriage canopy was
instantly pitched, and there was no further demur. The damsels advanced
conducting the concealed treasure. Her approach was at that moment
sweeter to him than sleep to the wearied eyelids, and he beheld in her
the stem of a tall reed, and the rose of the soul. They were immediately
united; on the second day Zoheir arose and thanked his fortune, irritated
as he had been. He made presents, and distributed the gold and silver,
and he made Amroo’s people remain with him, that he might treat them for
seven days, when he made the marriage-feast, slaughtering camels and
sheep.
The King’s surprise and delight made him so vain and conceited, that at
last he imparted to his wife the stratagem by which he had obtained her
without a dower or settlement. When she heard this, her soul revolted
at the act. She was a shrewd sensible woman, but she said nothing to him
about it all the next day; when intoxicated, he wished to caress her,
she repulsed him, and turning away from him, said—Are you not ashamed of
what you have done? Do you pretend to liberality and generosity, and thus
seize the daughters of brave men by force, and refuse them a dower?
These words irritated the Chief greatly, and he answered, I have not been
so avaricious; I had recourse to this violent act, because your father
yielded not to my proposals, and repulsed all suitors from you. I had
therefore no other means of dealing with him but by this outrage; and you
know, that had your father accepted my proposals for marriage at first,
then you would have seen what I would have given you, and the dower I
would have presented. You have confessed the deed, she replied, and you
have won me by force; this is the work of violence; but we are indeed
more cunning than you.
As soon as Zoheir heard these words he was greatly enraged, and his anger
exceeded all bounds: he rose from his bed and exclaimed, Where have you
seen any folly in me? and where, as you say, are you more sagacious than
I am? Be not angry, O King, said she; know that he who speaks too freely
will often have a bitter reply, and he who contemptuously treats women,
will get into difficulties. Know then that I am the sister of that woman
you beheld, so beautiful and fair; you have not succeeded with her, and
have not obtained possession of her charms. She is more beautiful than
the sun and moon. I am not worthy to be her handmaid; I do not possess a
particle of her charms. On the face of the earth there is not her equal:
amongst the daughters of Arabia there is not her like. By your show of
liberality you deceived my father; he gave me to you; but my sister’s
name is Temadhur, at the sight of whom every beholder is amazed, and
every heart is in raptures. But I am called Khidaa; and between her and
me there is a vast distance, both in beauty and disposition; but it is
now too late: had you not done this, I would not have informed you of
what has passed.
The pleasing dream fled. How can I believe you? said the King. If, said
she, you wish to prove my words, you have only to order some old woman
to go and look at my sister behind her veil, and then the truth and
mistake will be evident. No human being can behold your sister, added
he, but a merchant, or a blacksmith, or an astrologer, or a perfumer.
You are right, she replied, for the daughters of Arabia value the goods
of a merchant, a blacksmith, an astrologer, and a perfumer. Then, said
the King, there is no intelligence like the eyes, and no sight like the
hearing of the ears. I am myself an Arab, and I must undertake the
business myself. I will execute all that is necessary, and will go to
your house in the form of a perfumer.
He slept till the day dawned, when he said to his attendants, If any one
should demand admittance to me to-morrow, say You cannot enter to day. He
undressed himself and took off his royal robes, and habited himself as a
poor man, and took with him some perfumes and drugs; for he was greatly
vexed at what had passed. He departed from his tent, his loins girt
round, and his feet naked, and when he was at some distance he quickened
his pace.
But his wife Temadhur, as soon as the King was gone, also rose, and
threw off her veil, and putting on the cloak of her husband, dressed
herself as a man, and leaving the tent, sought the tent of her family.
When she reached it she sent for her mother, and her father, and her
brothers, and told them all she had heard from the King her husband. When
her father and brothers heard this, they were greatly surprised at her
cunning and her disguise. She kissed her father, and said to him, Do you
and my brothers withdraw instantly and conceal yourselves close at hand;
and when King Zoheir arrives and comes towards us, with his cloak-bag
over his shoulders, we will let him in and detain him; do you also rush
in, and instantly lay hold of him, keep him fast, and do not let him go
until he makes good the marriage dower; or we shall be a scandal among
the Arabs. And if he abuses you for this, tell him it is a return for
his acts towards us, and the disgraces his stratagem has brought on your
daughter. On this, they retired, armed themselves with swords, and lay
concealed. Temadhur took off her man’s attire, and put on the robes of
a secluded female, and drew her veil over her eyes, and blackened her
eyelids with antimony, and sat down, expecting Zoheir would arrive,
conversing in the mean time with her mother.
Zoheir soon appeared from amongst the tents, and his eyes were like the
eyes of a fox. Temadhur’s mother cried out, Enter, merchant; have you
any perfumes that will suit my daughter? He entered, and throwing down
his cloak-bag off his shoulders, and looking towards his wife, said, Are
the perfumes for this damsel? Yes, said she. He was much confounded, but
asked her name. She said, Temadhur. He then asked, Have you any other
daughter? Yes, said she, her sister, whose name is Khidaa; but when King
Zoheir demanded her in marriage, we did not consent to it, and so gave
him her sister. He knows nothing about it, but we hope to marry her to
one of the noblest chiefs.
The light became darkness in his eyes. He thought within himself, verily
I will carry off this damsel, and her father and brothers shall die with
rage. And when he wished that they would choose some of his drugs, that
he might return, the father and brothers rushed upon him like lions,
seized him, and bound him hand and foot. His wife stood before him, and
threw off her veil, and rejoicing in her heart, O King, said she, what
think you of your situation and your artifices? Who of us is the most
cunning?
The King was in despair, and considered himself as dead; but when he saw
his wife, his life and spirits revived. Well, said he, what do you intend
by this? Your disgrace for your acts towards us, replied she, and your
boast in having got possession of me by fraud and deceit; and we swear by
God and Abraham, we will not let you go, neither shall you see me yield
to you, or listen to you, or obey you, until you grant me a favour, and
swear by the Holy Zemzem that you will give to my father and brethren
your protection, and confirm my marriage with a grant of camels and other
beasts. Do this immediately, or you shall for ever remain in durance.
When Zoheir heard what she said, he smiled at what she had done, and was
ashamed of his own deeds. I will give you, said he, five hundred camels;
so now let me go. It is not enough for one hour that I have been your
wife, said she. I will moreover, continued he, add five hundred high
priced camels. That, said she, will be even little for a single day. If,
O Temadhur, cried Zoheir, you must reckon up every hour of each night,
and each day, and buy them as at a market, you will take from me all my
property, both my he-camels and she-camels. Upon that she smiled, and let
him loose, and they settled the business between them, _viz._ that he
should give them a thousand he and she-camels, twenty horses, fifty male
slaves, and fifty female. To this he swore by the God of the holy shrine
of Zemzem and Mekam. They then went to dinner, and he remained with them
until dark, when he returned with his wife, her father and brothers in
company until they came to his tent; there they separated, King Zoheir
retiring to his wife; and as his love for her greatly increased by reason
of her conduct, he gave her vast possessions; but no one knew what had
happened to him, and things remained in this state until she brought
forth ten sons, all like lions; of whom were Shas, Keseer, Cais, Nakshel,
Malik, Nooful, Harith, Khidash, Warcah, Gandil, and afterwards one
daughter, who was Mootejeredah.
And it was a custom among the Arabs, that when a woman brought forth
ten male children, she should be called Moonejeba, i.e. ennobled, and
her name be published amongst the Arabs; and they used to say that the
wife of such a one is ennobled. Now Mootejeredah, the daughter of King
Zoheir, was the beauty of the age, and in wit and sense surpassed all
the daughters of Arabia. And Fatima, the daughter of Hewseb, was also
a Moonejeba, the wife of Zeead, the son of Abdallah, and she also
brought forth ten sons; they were called Rebia, Amarah, Ans, Hafiz,
Talib, Ghalib, Dinrak, Amroo, and Zitak. Thus the children of Zoheir,
and Carad, and Zeead, became the chiefs of the tribe of Abs, and their
noble leaders, particularly the family of Carad, who consisted of Shedad,
Malek, and Zakmet-ool Jewad, who were all illustrious warriors. King
Zoheir was established in his dominions, and all the Arabs and Kings of
the age obeyed him, and sent him presents from every quarter. And the
tribe of Abs passed their time in plundering and killing the chieftains,
till all Arabia was overawed by their power, and all the dwellers of the
deserts feared them.
Now the narrators of this History, Asmael, and Zoheinah, and Aboo Obeidah
state, that ten horsemen of the family of Carad quitted the country to
seek their fortunes, and among them was Shedad the son of Carad, and he
was called the Knight of Jirwet, for his mare was called Jirwet, whose
like was unknown. Kings negotiated with him for her, but he would not
part with her, and would accept of no offer or bribe for her; and thus he
used to talk of her in his verses:
“Seek not to purchase my horse, for Jirwet is not to be bought or
borrowed. I am a strong castle on her back, and in her bounds is glory
and greatness. I would not part with her were strings of camels to come
to me with their shepherds following them. She flies with the wind
without wings, and tears up the waste and the desert. I will keep her for
the day of calamities, and she will rescue me when the battle-dust rises.”
The party set out from the land of Shuerebah; the ten were all reputed
warriors and famed horsemen; they were all clothed in iron armour and
brilliant cuirasses; their object was to obtain horses and camels. They
continued their journey till they entered the country of Cahtan: they lay
concealed all day, and only travelled by night. At length they reached
the mountains of Aja and Selma; and there, between two hills, they
discovered a wealthy tribe, possessed of considerable property and great
riches; they were called the tribe of Jezeela. Numerous were their tents,
and their dwellings, and their warlike weapons, &c., and the camp was
like the boisterous sea dashing its waves, so numerous were their slaves,
and attendants, and their horses of various colours. It was a tribe under
no apprehension from the changes of fortune.
And when the Absians perceived their vast wealth and prosperous
situation, they feared to attack them, so they accordingly quitted them
and made for their pasture ground, where they perceived a thousand
camels grazing, there being much grass in that spot, and with them was
a black woman, who was watching them. She was uncommonly beautiful and
well-shaped; her appearance was elegant and striking; and with her
were two children, looking after the camels and running about. As soon
as the Absians saw the camels, they attacked them, and hunted them like
hares with their spears, then drove them away, together with the woman
and children; yet keeping in the rear, ready to attack whoever might
overtake them; and they had not gone far ere the people came after
them, crying out, Whither would flight secure you, you wretches? here
are we in pursuit of you. Verily your feet have borne you to your ruin
and destruction. Upon this the Absians fixed their spears, and gave the
reins to their horses, and met their assailants, pouncing down on them
like falcons. They stood firm of soul, and plied their lances among
them: blood flowed, and the horsemen were stretched on the earth, where
they left them as carrion for the wild beasts of the desert. The tribe
of Jezeela fled, unable to resist the foe, and retreated to their own
country, their heroes being slain and their property captured.
The Absians drove away the camels and cattle, and returning home, they
halted by the side of a stream, in order to divide the property. But the
woman who was carried off with the camels had made a great impression
on the heart of Shedad, and he longed for her in his soul; her form
was delicate, her eye inspired love, her smile was enchanting, and her
gestures graceful. As the poet has said, “In blackness there is some
virtue, if you observe its beauty well, thy eyes do not regard the white
or red. Were it not for the black of the mole on a fair cheek, how would
lovers feel the value of its brilliancy. Were not musk black, it would
not be precious. Were it not for the black of night, the dawn would not
rise. Were it not for the black of the eye, where would be its beauty?
and thus it is, that the black ambergris has the purest fragrance.”
He therefore took the woman, and gave them the booty, that they might
renounce her. So he kept her to himself.
This woman’s name was Zebeeba, and the two children were hers; the eldest
was called Jereer, and the youngest Shiboob. He remained with the woman
in the field, and the children tended the flocks. Shedad visited her
morning and evening; and thus matters continued till she became pregnant;
and when her time came, she brought forth a boy, black and swarthy like
an elephant, flat nosed, blear eyed, harsh featured, shaggy haired;
the corners of his lips hanging down, and the inner angles of his eyes
bloated; strong boned, long footed; he was like a fragment of a cloud,
his ears immensely long, and with eyes whence flashed sparks of fire. His
shape, limbs, form, and make resembled Shedad; and Shedad was overjoyed
at seeing him, and called him Antar, and for many days he continued
to gaze on him with delight. But when Zebeeba wished to wean him, he
grumbled and growled exceedingly, and the corners of his eyes became
fiery red, so that he appeared like a mass of crimson blood; and this was
his condition till he was weaned. And he grew up, and his name became
known; but those who had accompanied Shedad in the expedition, having
heard of him, all wanted to claim him as theirs. So they all assembled
and hastened to him, each imagining he belonged to him, and gave him
his name; till at last they disputed about him, and almost drew their
swords, and would have fought, had not respect for King Zoheir prevented
them. The circumstance soon reached the King, who ordered them to his
presence; and it happened on that day that he had many guests with him at
dinner; and whilst they were sitting down, Shedad and his companions came
and kissed the ground in the presence of the King. He asked them what
had happened, and what was the cause of the quarrel. They then informed
him, and related all that had passed between Shedad and the woman in
their excursion; how he had taken her to himself, and had given them the
plunder; how she bare him a son, whose shape and appearance resembled a
negro, and how they now all claimed the child as their slave, because he
was very stout and strong.
When Zoheir heard this adventure he was greatly surprised, and he said to
Shedad, I wish you would produce the young slave that is the object of
contention, that I may see him. Upon that, Shedad departed and brought
Antar before him; and the King beheld him, and lo! he was like a lion
when he roars. As soon as he saw him he gave a loud scream, and threw
a piece of meat at him; but a dog that was there got before him, and
snatched up the meat like a hawk, and ran away. But Antar followed him
till he came up with him; he was greatly enraged, and seized hold of him
with all his strength. He wrenched open his jaws, and tore them in twain
even to the shoulders, and snatched the meat out of his mouth. When the
King saw this, he was astonished, and the Arab chiefs that were present
were amazed; and exclaimed, what ingenuity, what power, strength, and
ability! O my friends, said King Zoheir, contend no more about such a
wretch as this! but if it is absolutely necessary that this business
should be decided, I must refer you to the Cadi Bashar, son of Codha’ah
the Fazarean, let him give sentence on this point, and settle to whom
this slave belongs. Tell him the story, for he is the Cadi of the Arabs.
When they heard King Zoheir’s remarks, they instantly withdrew their
hands from their swords, and mounting their horses, went before the Cadi,
to whom they explained what had happened. In fine, the Cadi decided that
the child should be the property of Shedad; for he was their leader,
and no one but him had any connexion with the woman. You agreed to the
partition, said he, and he affixed his name to him; you have therefore
resigned the woman, and you took your share of the spoil and plunder;
besides, the child resembles Shedad. Contend and be at variance no more,
but return in peace and quietness. Thus, as soon as the Arab chiefs heard
the Cadi’s sentence, they yielded; and when they reached their homes,
they passed their time in friendship and comfort. Soon after, Shedad made
a separate house for Zebeeba and her children, and he gave her whatever
she wanted, and consigned over to her charge her two children, and also
gave her particular injunction about her youngest son called Antar.
Now Antar was becoming a big boy, and grew up, and used to accompany his
mother to the pastures, and he watched the cattle; and this he continued
to do till he increased in stature. He used to walk and run about to
harden himself, till at length his muscles were strengthened, his frame
altogether more robust, and his bones more firm and solid, and his
speech correct. He then began to tyrannize over boys of the same age,
and beat his brothers; and when he returned from the pastures he amused
himself with the servants and women, and he would eat nothing but what
he liked; and whoever offended him he would thrash with a stick; till
he tortured him, and all the tribe were his enemies. He used to employ
himself in tending the flocks, and as he conducted them, he wandered
about the deserts and plains, and loved solitude and retirement. His
days were passed in roaming about the mountains sides, sometimes riding
upon the dogs, by which he acquired courage and intrepidity; and thus he
went on till he attained his tenth year. One day he was wandering over
the deserts with the flocks, and when the sun was burning hot, he left
his people and climbed up a tree and took shelter from the heat, whilst
the flocks grazed, and he watched them; when lo! a wolf started from
behind the trees, and dispersed them. But Antar seeing how the animal had
dispersed the herds, he descended and ran after him till he overtook him,
and struck him with his staff between the eyes; he made the oil of his
brains fly out from between his ears, and slew him; he then cut off his
head and his legs, and returned growling like an angry lion. And so thou
wouldst devour Antar’s flocks? cried he, addressing himself to the dead
wolf; but thou dost not know that he is a savage lion. He put the head
and legs into the scrip he had with him; leaving the carcase, he returned
to the flocks, and thus spoke.—
“Oh thou wolf, eager for death, I have left thee wallowing in dust, and
spoiled of life, thou wouldst have the run of my flocks, but I have left
thee dyed with blood—thou wouldst disperse my sheep, and thou knowest I
am a lion that never fears. This is the way I treat thee, thou dog of the
desert. Hast ever before seen battle and wars?”
About evening Antar reached his dwelling; his mother took the basket
from him, and there she saw the wolf’s head and legs. She was quite
confounded, but said nothing. She presented them to Shedad, who only
desired her not to let him stray about. Do thou and he mind the cattle,
and go not far into the wilds, lest some foe meet thee. Zebeeba promised
obedience to the words of her lord, and the next day she departed with
her three children to the pastures, whither they drove the herds to graze
among the plains and the hills. But Antar rode about the country on the
horses, and obtained strength and agility by the exercise; he drove them
over the steeps, hurling his reed spear at the trunks of the trees; and
his mother concealed these circumstances from his father, fearing he
would beat him or kill him. It was thus he became bold and hardy; his
limbs were robust, his bodily powers increased, and his mind was improved
by courage and intrepidity. And when a camel would stray away, he would
cry out and make it stop, and he would struggle with and subdue the
mightiest of the herds; and when he seized one by the tail, he tore it
off; and when they resisted him, he would strike them on the back of the
head, or tear open their mouths; and, thus he continued his feats till
all the servants were afraid of him, and every one far and near dreaded
him.
Now King Zoheir had two hundred slaves that tended his herds of he and
she-camels, and all his sons had the same. Shas was the eldest of his
sons, and heir to his possessions, and Shas had a slave whose name was
Daji, and he was a great bully. Shas was very fond of him on account of
his vast bodily strength; and there was not a slave but feared him and
trembled before him: Antar however made no account of him, and did not
care for him. One day the poor men, and widows, and orphans met together
and were driving their camels and their flocks to drink, and were all
standing by the water side. Daji came up and stopped them all, and took
possession of the water for his master’s cattle. Just then an old woman
belonging to the tribe of Abs came up to him, and accosted him in a
suppliant manner, saying, Be so good, master Daji, as to let my cattle
drink; they are all the property I possess, and I live by their milk.
Pity my flock and cover my nakedness; have compassion on me and grant
my request, and let them drink. But he paid no attention to her demand,
and abused her. She was greatly distressed and shrunk back. Then came
another old woman and addressed him, O master Daji, I am a poor weak old
woman, as you see; time has dealt hardly with me, it has aimed its arrows
at me; and its daily and nightly calamities have destroyed all my men.
I have lost my children and my husband, and since then I have been in
great distress; these sheep are all I possess; let them drink, for I live
on the milk they produce. Pity my forlorn state; I have no one to tend
them, therefore grant my request, and be so kind as to let them drink.
As soon as Daji heard these words, and perceived the crowd of women and
men, his pride increased, and his obstinacy was not to be moved, but he
struck the woman on the stomach, and threw her down on her back, and
uncovered her nakedness, whilst all the slaves laughed at her. When
Antar perceived what had occurred, his pagan pride played throughout all
his limbs, and he could not endure the sight. He ran up to the slave,
and calling out to him, You bastard, said he, what mean you by this
disgusting action? Do you dare to violate an Arab woman? May God destroy
your limbs, and all that consented to this act.
When the slave heard what Antar said, he almost fainted from indignation;
he met him, and struck him a blow over the face that nearly knocked out
his eyes. Antar waited till he had recovered from the blow, and his
senses returned; he then ran at the slave, and seizing him by one of
the legs, threw him on his back. He thrust one hand under his thighs,
and with the other he grasped his neck, and raising him by the force of
his arm, he dashed him against the ground. And his length and breadth
were all one mass. When the deed was done his fury was unbounded, and
he roared aloud even as a lion. And when the slaves perceived the fate
of Daji, they shrieked out to Antar, saying, You have slain the slave
of Prince Shas! What man on earth can now protect you? They attacked him
with staves and stones, but he resisted them all; he rushed with a loud
yell upon them, and proved himself a hardy warrior, and dealt among them
with his stick as a hero with his sword.
Now among the sons of Zoheir there was one whose name was Malik, and
because he was of a mild and gentle disposition, he was beloved of men
and women; and his father Zoheir adored him for the sweetness of his
temper, and gentleness of his conduct. It so happened that on this day
he went out with a numerous train to hunt, and passing that way he
heard some confused cries, and perceived a great dust. On approaching
the place, he observed a number of slaves surrounding one man, whom
he discovered to be Antar; the blood streamed from all parts of his
body from the blows they struck him with sticks and stones; yet he was
determined to die sooner than give way. When the Prince saw this, his
eyes filled with tears, and in pity he cried out, God prosper thee for
a noble slave; how hard are thy blows, how vast thy power! and then,
addressing the slaves, he said, Accursed be your fathers, and your
abandoned mothers! Do you not fear the punishment and condemnation of
every one far and near? Why have you collected in such numbers, and all
conspired against one poor fellow, and thus to vent your fury on one
much younger than yourselves? Away, or I will destroy you all, both high
and low, with this sword. He then went to Antar, to learn what was the
matter, and he heard him growling like a furious lion, and repeating
these verses.
“O my soul! strive not to fly, thou cans’t not escape when death seeks
thee; death is predestined; it will come in some shape or other. Endure
then with the patience of one nobly born. Fly not from the fears of
death, or thou wilt remain scorned among the Arab chiefs.”
The Prince desired Antar to explain the business, which he did, and told
him all that had happened between Daji and the old woman; how he had
struck her, and thrown her on her back; how he had uncovered her person,
and made the people laugh at her. I then came up to prevent him; he
struck me in the eye and nearly killed me; but I seized him with my hand,
and dashed him against the ground. I broke his bones, and then his slaves
attacked me, and wanted to seize me in revenge; but I thought proper to
defend myself: had you not arrived I should have been killed.
When Prince Malik heard this, his admiration of Antar increased, and he
was convinced he was a hero, and that there was not such another alive.
Walk by my side, said he, I will protect you against every one that
exists under the heavens, against all who eat bread and drink water.
Antar bowed down before him and kissed his feet in his stirrup, and
walked on with the slaves. But when they came nigh the tents, there
appeared his brother Shas; in his hand was a flaming sword, and under him
a steed swifter than a cloud when it rains, and his bosom was charged
with fury and indignation, and he was about to slay Antar. When his
brother Malik saw him, he was aware if he did not keep him away from
Antar, he would injure him. How is it I see thee so disturbed? said he.
Know, said Shas, this accursed Antar has killed my servant, and I am come
to cut his body in pieces with this sword. You must not touch him, said
Malik; he who dares to oppose him is a dead man. I have given him my
protection; I will not be separated from him; sooner will I forfeit my
head.
Shas took no notice; but fixed his eyes on Antar, who was walking by the
side of his brother. He no longer heeded his brother; but ran at Antar,
that he might put him to death with tortures. Then too, Prince Malik
was enraged; he drew his sword from the scabbard; the two brothers soon
became so violent that their disputes would have ended in a battle, had
not King Zoheir, who had been informed of what was passing, instantly
joined them. Malik was abashed in the presence of his father, and Shas
also quitted his brother. O my son, said Zoheir, give this slave to
me and to your brother Malik, and I will in lieu of him give you ten
of mine. Upon that, Shas retreated in shame from the presence of his
father. Why did you kill my son’s servant, said Zoheir to Antar, and
thus disgrace him? and Antar wept at these words: he related what had
occurred, how the servant had thrown the woman on her back, and rendered
her an object of derision among the servants. The King assured him he
approved of his conduct, and turning towards the Chiefs about him, This
valiant fellow, said he, has defended the honour of women; he will shine
a noble warrior, and destroy his opponents; and then looking at Shedad,
your son’s conduct reflects credit on you; he added, his behaviour will
remain as a memorial to all generations; he has loathed oppression and
violence, and has followed the path of propriety and virtue.
Shedad on that day, when in the presence of the King, was much alarmed
about his slave Antar, because he was considered as compromising all
about him. Take away your son, said Zoheir to him, I give him to you;
take care of him until I demand him of you again, and be not at all
annoyed. From that day both King Zoheir and his son Malik conceived a
great affection for Antar, and as Antar returned home, the women and
their daughters all collected round him to ask him what had happened;
amongst them were his aunts, and his cousin, whose name was Ibla.
Now Ibla was younger than Antar, and a merry lass; she was lovely as the
full moon, and perfectly beautiful and elegant. She frequently joked
with Antar, and was very familiar with him, as he was her servant. As
soon as she came up to him on that day, O you base-born, she cried, why
didst thou kill the slave of Prince Shas? who can now protect thee from
him? Indeed, my mistress, he replied, I did no more than he deserved, for
he had insulted a poor woman; he threw her down, and made the servants
laugh at her. Thou hast acted most properly, said Ibla, smiling, and we
are rejoiced that thou art safe, for thou knowest our mothers consider
thee as their son, and we look on thee as a brother, on account of thy
services. On this the women and girls left him.
Now it was always Antar’s business to wait upon all the women of the
family of Carad, after he had finished his duty towards Semeeah, his
father Shedad’s wife, whose attendant he was. It was a custom among
the Arab women at that period, to drink camel’s milk both morning and
evening; it was the servant’s office to milk it, and cool it in the
wind. Now Antar always performed this office for Semeeah, Shedad’s wife
first, and then for his aunts, the wives of his uncles Zakmet-ool Jewad
and Malik, and for Ibla, the daughter of the latter. He continued to
execute this service for a long time; but one day he entered the house
of his uncle Malik, and found his aunt combing his cousin Ibla’s hair,
which flowed down her back, dark as the shades of night. Antar was quite
surprised, but Ibla ran away as soon as Antar had entered and seen her,
as her sable locks waved to the ground behind her. This increased Antar’s
astonishment; he was greatly agitated, and could pay no attention to any
thing; he was anxious and thoughtful, and when by himself burst forth
into the following strains,
“That fair maid lets down her ringlets, and she is completely hid in her
hair, which appears like the dark shades of night. It is as if she were
the brilliant day, and as if the night had enveloped her in obscurity. It
is as if the full moon was shining in its splendour, and all the stars
were concealed by its lustre. Her charms bewitch all around her, and
all are anxious to offer their services; they live in her beauties and
loveliness, and they are imbued with sweetness from her perfections, and
receive new spirit from her graces. Revile me not for my love of her, for
I am distracted for her, and live but as the victim of my love. I will
conceal my affection in my soul till I can see that I am sufficiently
fortunate one day to serve her.”
Antar’s anguish daily became more oppressive. It now happened to be the
time of the pilgrimage to the holy shrine, and the worship of their
idols; and the women and children being left behind in the camp, the
warriors and chiefs came out for the feast at a spot called Zatool Irsad,
whence they departed for the sacred place. Accordingly they all met, and
the children sung and danced. Ibla was amongst them, richly dressed,
playing and singing amongst her companions. She was decorated with
necklaces and jewels, and her countenance was brilliant and blooming—more
dazzling than the rays of the sun. When Antar saw her in all her beauty
and loveliness, he was overwhelmed with surprise, his tears flowed, and
he thus addressed her in verse:
“The lovely virgin has struck my heart with the arrow of a glance,
for which there is no cure. Sometimes she wishes for a feast in the
sand-hills, like a fawn whose eyes are full of magic. My disease preys
on me, it is in my entrails. I conceal it; but its very concealment
discloses it. She moves; I should say it was the branch of the Tamarisk
that waves its branches to the southern breeze. She approaches; I should
say it was the frightened fawn, when a calamity alarms it in the waste.
She walks away—I should say her face was truly the sun when its lustre
dazzles the beholders. She gazes—I should say it was the full moon of the
night when Orion girds it with its stars. She smiles, and the pearls of
her teeth sparkle, in which there is the cure for the sickness of lovers.
She prostrates herself in reverence towards her God; and the greatest
of men bow down to her beauties. O Ibla! when I most despair, love for
thee and all its weaknesses are my only hope. Should fortune or my father
assist me, I will requite myself for its vicissitudes by my fearless
spirit.”
When Ibla heard from Antar this description of her charms, she was in
astonishment; yet she still continued to amuse herself and converse with
her companions. Before the feast was over he was violently in love with
her, and his affection completely overpowered him. On the next day he
came as usual with the milk; but his heart and soul were so pre-occupied
and troubled, that he offered it to Ibla before Semeeah, his father’s
wife; for his feet went where his heart was interested. Ibla took the cup
from him and fascinated him by her charms. Semeeah was very angry, and
determined to complain of him to his father; but Antar continued in this
state for days and nights, his love and anguish ever increasing.
A short time after, a slave called Zajir, who belonged to Rebia, the
son of Zeead, came to Shedad; O master, said he, your slave Antar does
nothing but injure your property: he ranges about the country, and all
day long he keeps the cattle away from the water and the pastures, riding
and driving them about, and reducing their flesh by incessant exercise,
and injuring the trees by spearing them; and when I order him not to
do so, he abuses me and beats me, and were I to go near him he would
kill me. This made Shedad very angry. You tell me the truth, my boy, he
replied, for from the time I have directed him to tend my herds, they
do not get fat, but have ulcers in their feet; and this is a proof that
he rides them and drives them about the rocky places, and thus they lose
their flesh.
As soon as Semeeah heard this, she sought to punish Antar, and told
Shedad what had occurred; and complained that Antar had offered the milk
to Ibla before her. This added to the anger which Shedad already felt in
his heart, but he waited patiently till Antar returned from the pasture;
he then seized fast hold of him, tied him up, and beat him with a stick
till he took the skin off. His mother saw all this, but did not dare
to speak to her master, not knowing the cause of this cruel treatment,
but she afterwards enquired of other women, who told her that Zajir had
complained of him, and that Semeeah also had complained of his having
served the milk to Ibla before her. Zebeebah treasured up all this in
her mind till the morning, when she went to Antar, and told him the
whole matter, how Zajir had complained of him, and that Semeeah had
stated that she had been served with milk after Ibla. O my son, said
she, henceforward take care not to offend her, but execute the office
properly; and moreover, do not cast thine eyes on Ibla, for she will be
thy ruin. No sooner had Antar heard this than he struggled with the cords
that bound him, and bursting them, started forward like a lion, and in
wrath exclaimed in verse:
“This day will I slay Zajir, the accursed infamous slave. I will leave
him in the middle of the waste, a prey for the devouring beasts. When he
is gone, my heart will be at rest, and my soul will be appeased. Who told
him to trouble himself about this business, and to endanger me? If I do
not haste to the desert to slay him, my heart will never be at rest, nor
my eyes ever sleep.”
Then went he forth in search of Zajir; he found him in the pastures. Thou
base-born, he cried, thou son of an uncircumcised mother thou instigated
my master to beat me. He said no more, but seizing him by the small part
of his belly, raised him up, and dashing him on the ground, smashed his
bones to pieces. When he beheld him dead, he recovered himself, and
began to be alarmed; so he went to the house of his friend Malik, the
Prince who relieved him when he slew the slave of his brother Shas, and
informed him of what had passed. The prince was astonished, but quieted
his fears, promising to get him out of the scrape. He left him sitting
in the tent, and went to the habitation of Rebia. On his arrival he only
found the women of the family; he enquired for Rebia; they answered—He
is gone by invitation to your father’s. Immediately he repaired to his
father’s house, and the matter was just as he wished; for on his entering
he observed the Chiefs of the Absian tribe, all seated, and the family of
Zeead and Rebia standing with their slaves and attendants close to King
Zoheir. He entered, and made his salutation; and as no one was seated,
but all standing, Rebia said to him, sit down in your place, for we are
all standing up because you continue so. Do you wish I should sit down?
said Malik; and do you love me? Yes, said Rebia, by the lives of all
that are present. Then, replied Malik, I will not sit down till you have
given me your slave Zajir. What makes you so anxious, said Rebia, to have
him? Because, said Malik, I have observed him to be a good hard-working
slave, and very laborious in doing his duty. Sit down then, said Rebia,
I will give him to you, and if you wish, two more with him. Let all
these assembled Chiefs be witnesses to what you say, said Malik. Yes,
said Rebia, let the God who raised the vaulted heavens, and levelled the
expanded earth, witness my grant to you, and that I will never tell you
of the favour rendered. Be witness to it, O ye that are present, said
Malik. Know then, O Rebia, that Antar has killed your slave, and has
sought my protection; do not therefore seek his life.
When Rebia heard this, his affection was cooled, and he was very
indignant; he hid his head, and felt ashamed before his assembled
associates: great was his wrath; and from that moment he cherished in
his heart a violent hatred against Antar. King Zoheir then asked his son
what had induced Antar to kill the slave, and what was his intention and
object? Malik related all that had passed. The King smiled, and soothing
the heart of Rebia, gave him two strong healthy slaves, and he was
pacified.
When the slaves heard what Antar had done, there was not one but feared
him; and as soon as the assembly had eaten and drank, they departed, and
in the evening Malik returned home rejoicing in the good tidings that he
brought. He filled the heart of Antar with gladness, and placed victuals
before him; they slept the whole night together, and Antar repeated the
following lines in praise of the Prince.
“O thou, on whose lofty spirit, my hope, to the exclusion of all the
universe, depends! My anxieties have weighed on thee, and my troubles
have been a burthen to thy noble mind! Thou hast granted me favours—thou
art my only refuge. O thou who hast rescued me from my death, and my
perdition, all my life will I thank thee, till my bones disappear in the
earth.”