《一千零一夜》｜理查·法蘭西斯·波頓〈前言〉之二

Professionally speaking, I was not a success; and, at the same time, that I had no cause to be ashamed of my failure.在職業上，我的確談不上成功；但同時，我也無需因自己的失敗而感到羞愧。

波頓先生的前言，留下無數風骨長存的句子，倘若一一細數，該可另起文章吧。可惜，因時間關係，我只能在這此簡短地發表個人淺見。

撇除以上話題，我有一些翻譯上的個人觀點，想在此聲明：
此篇的第五段，波頓先生言：「此譯本目的在於展現《一千零一夜》的真貌。並非（原因將在末尾的論文中詳述）藉由刻意逐字逐譯（verbum reddere verbo），而是以阿拉伯人用英語書寫的方式來寫成。」
當然，我並非一個阿拉伯語使用者，所以，我會試著以英國人（波頓先生）用中文書寫的方式來完成這部中譯本。

最大困難依然是詩的部分，原文韻腳是阿拉伯文，而我參考的卻是英譯，這將是無可避免的失真；波頓先生也直言，這項任務並非無法達成，但需要「吃力地」「玩弄辭藻」，且最終所文字透露的「心機」也會在成閱讀的負擔。這些話減輕了我不少重擔，誠然，我不會在詩歌的翻譯上偷工減料，但也無法以獻祭靈魂的方式作業，這點敬請讀者們見諒。

作為標準，且讓我預先引用下文的詩句：

Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.
（拉丁語）

人何生哉？夷之嬌華；
旭日而榮，日暮而衰。
（中譯借鑑〈秋聲賦〉：夷，戮也；物過盛而當殺。）

木谷人右

二〇二五年九月十八日，北角

正文

將近一個世紀之後，喬納森・史考特博士（Dr. Jonathan Scott，法學博士，曾任東印度公司孟加拉總督之波斯語秘書，後為東方學教授等），出版了《從阿拉伯語與波斯語譯出的故事、軼事與書信》（倫敦 Cadell and Davies，1800 年）；並於 1811 年隨後出版了一部根據愛德華・沃特利・蒙塔古（Edward Wortley Montague）手稿整理的《一千零一夜》（六卷本，小八開，倫敦：Longmans 等）。這部作品，只有他自稱為「經過仔細修訂，並偶爾依據阿拉伯文本校正」。讀者大眾並未完全排斥它，有數種文本是以史考特版本為基礎，並曾於 1883 年不完整地再版（四卷本，八開，倫敦：Nimmo and Bain，1883 年）。但大多數人並不在意自己讀到的只是原作的一小部分，便已心滿意足於那部英法式的節錄與直譯。終於，在 1838 年，亨利・托倫斯先生（Mr. Henry Torrens文學士，愛爾蘭人，律師〔出身於倫敦律師學院 Inner Temple〕，亦為孟加拉文官）邁出了正確的一步；並開始根據一份由威廉・H・麥納頓先生（William H. Macnaghten，後受封為爵士）編輯的埃及手稿中的阿拉伯文翻譯《一千零一夜》（一卷本，八開，Calcutta: W. Thacker and Co. 出版）這次嘗試，或更準確地說，這份心志，非常可嘉；這份譯本嚴謹地依循範本而成，並展現出逐字逐句譯法的最佳典範。但這位勇敢的作者對阿拉伯語所知甚少，尤其欠缺最為需要的埃及與敘利亞方言。他的散文譯筆過於認真嚴謹，似是在文字的聖壇上獻出了靈魂；而他的詩譯，向來稀奇古怪，有時竟發出愛爾蘭式呼喊，使本應該哀婉之處滑稽可笑。最後，他在這套若完成應有九至十卷的書中，只刊行了一卷。
（此處原文 Ægyptian (!)，帶有譏諷或質疑語氣，暗示「所謂的埃及手稿」）

已故的學者愛德華・威廉・雷恩（Edward William Lane），和藹而專注於阿拉伯學的他，在《一千零一夜新譯本》（倫敦：Charles Knight and Co.，1839 年）中並未獲致成功，該書曾有四種英國版，另有美國版，其中兩種由 E. S. Poole 編輯。他選用了刪節過的布拉克版；他在其中兩百則故事裡省略了一大半，且恰是最具特色的那一半：這部作品被設計為「客廳桌案上的讀物」，因此譯者不得不規避「令人反感的」以及任何「涉及放蕩的」內容。他將《一千零一夜》改成了《一千零一章》，任意更動章節的劃分，更糟的是，他還把部分章節變作了註腳。他將詩譯成了散文，甚至為沒有全數刪去它們而致歉：他忽略了諧音，且他一時過於東方化，隨即又不夠東方化。當時他對阿拉伯語的掌握有限——《天方夜譚》的雷恩並不是那位《辭典》的雷恩——以致他的書頁因許多稚拙的錯誤而失色。最糟糕的是，這三卷綺麗的書竟如薩爾（Sale）的《古蘭經》般難讀，其中充斥英語化的拉丁詞、冗長晦澀的非英語用字，以及半世紀前那種僵硬矯飾的文風，那時我們的散文或許是全歐洲最糟的。

約翰・佩恩先生刊印了宏偉總集第一且唯一的完整譯本，僅為維庸學會及私人傳閱，「其內容約為伽朗譯本的四倍， 並為其他任何譯者版本的三倍。」；而我不禁感到自豪，因為他以《一千零一夜》題獻致敬我。他的譯本極為可讀；其英文帶有《馬比諾吉昂》（Mabinogion）般的古風氣息，令人讚賞；而他的文風亦為那內容往往已十足沉重的九卷書注入了生氣與光彩。他在最難處理的段落中表現卓絕，常能捕捉到精煉而獨特的詞語，並以準確的本地語等效表達外來字彙，如此貼切生動，以至於往後的譯者若不沿用同樣的詞語，便難以望其項背。但這位博學多才的作者承諾僅發行五百冊，且「不再以完整、未經刪節的形式重印此書」。故此，他這部優秀的譯本對大眾而言猶如魚子醬，不可多得。

在此我必須承認，我廣泛吸納了前述三種譯本，並以一種巧妙的銜接（callida junctura，拉丁語）將之合而為一。不過在這麼多位先驅面前，譯者必須為做出新嘗試而提出存在的理由（raison d’être），我亦將謹慎地闡明之。

簡而言之，此譯本目的在於展現《一千零一夜》的真貌。並非（原因將在末尾的論文中詳述）藉由刻意逐字逐譯（verbum reddere verbo），而是以阿拉伯人用英語書寫的方式來寫成。在這一點上，我全然贊同聖哲羅姆（《約伯書》序言）：「或以字譯字，或以意譯意，或兼二者而調和為折衷的翻譯方式。」我的譯作自詡為那部偉大東方傳奇之書的忠實摹本，不僅完整保留了其精神，甚至連同它的結構（mécanique，法語）、風格與內容也一併保存。因此，無論那些套語如何冗長乏味、拖沓冗長，它仍保留了《一千零一夜》的架構，因為這正是原典的主要特徵。那些依靠才智來填補細節的「拉維」（Ráwí）亦即說書人，將深知它們的價值：開場時會小心反覆提及人物姓名，以便牢記於聽者心中。少了那些「夜」便無《一千零一夜》！並且必須保留原有的整個機制：沒有比喬納森・史考特博士（Dr. Jonathan Scott）那種怪誕的做法更不明智，其以花俏的篇首與篇末裝飾來點綴《天方夜譚》，或者僅僅在伽朗的譯文前加上「Nuit」（法語，夜）之類，來劃分章節，還完結在第二百三十四夜。而這樣的做法竟似乎還得到了阿拉伯學巨擘德・薩西的允許（巴黎 Ernest Bourdin 出版）。此外，我堅守譯者的榮耀在於能為母語增添資源這一理念，同時避免托倫斯那種如醜陋老嫗般的赤裸，和雷恩那種枯燥的直譯主義，小心翼翼地將那些生動奇特的轉折與新奇的表達譯成英文，並保留它們本來所有的異國風味；例如， “when the dust-cloud raised by a tramping host”，被描寫成 “walling the horizon”。因此，我格外關注阿拉伯語中那些時常被緊湊地壓縮在單一詞語裡的修辭與譬喻；因此，在需要之時我從不猶豫鑄造詞彙，如「she snorted and snarked」，以便完整再現原文。這些辭彙，猶如拉伯雷（Rabelais）作品中的許多用法，若不被廣泛採用就不過是蠻荒之語（barbarisms）；在他（拉伯雷）那種情況下，它們變得文明化，並成為「通用貨幣」。

儘管在種種嘹亮的反對聲下，我仍保留了句式的均衡，以及散文中，那些東方人眼裡僅僅是音樂的韻腳與節奏。這種「Sajʿa」，或者說鳩鳴般的節奏，在阿拉伯語中自有特殊功能。它使描寫增添了光彩，也讓諺語、警句與對話更為犀利；它相當於我們所謂的“artful alliteration” （我在適當處以之替換）， 總體上，它也劃定了《天方夜譚》中古典與通俗文風彼此摩擦的界線。偶爾若它顯得勉強且牽強，這正是押韻散文的慣例，學者會注意到，即使阿拉伯語在元音諧韻與輔音韻腳上極其豐富，這種勉強之感往往是刻意為之，如同但丁與遊唱詩人使用的 Rims cars。這種押韻散文或許「不合英語習慣」，對英國人的耳朵來說刺耳，甚至不悅；我仍視之為完整重現原作的必要因素（sine quâ non，拉丁語）。在結尾的論文中，我將重提此一議題。

至於總數或近萬行的詩歌部分，我並不一味拘守阿拉伯語那極端造作，且唯有憑炫技強作（tour de force，法文）才能以英語再現的格律。我尤其影射「單韻」，又稱 rime continuée 或 tirade monorime，因其單調簡樸而往往為遊唱詩人所偏愛，用於哀歌中（threnodies）。單韻在三、四個對句中還算是妥帖，但若如加扎勒歌詩般延至十八句，或如卡西達、輓歌或頌歌中更長，便只得倚賴平庸的押韻字，而那些諧韻本應是鮮明有力的；否則，就必須展現某種心機，散發「燈油味」（a smell of the oil），而這顯然不會增添讀者的樂趣。這或許能夠達成，甚至理應為之；但對我而言，這項工作毫無吸引力；比起穿著木屐擊劍，我穿鞋子更能夠發揮。最後，我將對句依阿拉伯格式刊印，以星號分隔半行。

現在，讓我們來討論本書中特別重要的一點——它的穢語 （turpiloquium，拉丁詞）。這顆絆腳石可分為截然不同的兩類。其一，是單純、天真、孩子氣般的猥褻，從丹吉爾到日本，無論高低貴賤，皆隨處可聞於當今的日常談話中。它的用語，如同希伯來人的聖典一般， 措辭「直白地描寫自然情境」；並且以一種不拘傳統、自由而赤裸的方式，處理那些社會共識通常避而不談的題材與事物。正如威廉・瓊斯爵士（Sir William Jones）久遠以前的觀點：凡屬自然之事竟可能被視為冒犯性的猥褻，這樣的想法，似乎從未出現在印度人或其立法者的腦海中；此特殊現象（singularity ?）普遍存在於他們的文學作品與日常談話之中，但這並不能作為道德淪喪的證明。另一派則公允指出：原始民族在其中並無惡意：他們直呼萬物之名，不認為自然本身有何罪過（法文）。而且，他們彷彿孩子般地窺探。例如，歐洲小說家會讓男主角與女主角結婚，然後將他們留在私下自行完成婚姻（房事），就連《湯姆‧瓊斯》（Tom Jones）裡的人物，也懂得要把門栓上。但東方的說書人，尤其是這位無名的「散文莎士比亞」，必耍起筆桿子引你進入洞房，然後以無窮興致，向你敘述他所見所聞的一切。我們還須記得那些粗鄙與猥褻，實際上所謂的 les turpitudes，全是因時地而制宜；在英格蘭會構成冒犯的，在埃及卻不然；如今讓我們反感的，在伊莉莎白時代（tempore Elisæ，拉丁文）可能只是則無聊笑談。總之，《天方夜譚》在這方面並不比莎士比亞、斯特恩或斯威夫特的許多篇章段落更為粗鄙，而它的猥褻之處也鮮少能企及「阿爾科弗里巴斯・納西耶」（Alcofribas Nasier，拉伯雷的筆名）那種 “divin maître et atroce cochon”（法語，直譯為「神聖的大師以及駭人的豬」）的極致。另一種成分則是赤裸裸的猥褻，偶爾，而非總是，會因機智、幽默與詼諧而稍加緩和；這裡我們看到的是佩特羅尼烏斯·阿爾比特（Petronius Arbiter）那種誇張筆調，此類手筆的作家們之先輩，人類中最虔誠又最荒淫的那一群，曾在卡諾匹克神祇（Canopic Gods）的祭壇前行盡一切可憎之事。
（佩特羅尼烏斯·阿爾比特，羅馬帝國尼祿時期的朝臣，著有《薩蒂利孔》（Satyricon））

依照我想要重現《夜譚》的宗旨，並非為了處男處女們（virginibus puerisque，拉丁語），而是盡我所能地逼真重現，我仔細尋覓每一個阿拉伯詞彙的英語同義詞，無論它對文雅之耳多麼低俗或「駭人聽聞」；另一方面，若猥褻並非出於刻意，我亦盡可能地保持含蓄；且正如一位友人建議我聲明的，我並未誇大那些粗俗與猥褻，確實，它們幾乎無從再被誇大。粗野與拙劣不過是畫作的陰影，否則它將全是光明。《天方夜譚》的整體調性格外崇高而純潔。那股虔敬的熱情時常上漲至狂熱的沸點。其中的傷感真摯而甜美、深沉且純粹；柔情、樸素而真實，全然不同於我們那些摩登的藻飾（tinsel，常用於聖誕節裝飾的金屬花環）。它的生命，強韌、燦爛且多姿，處處都帶著那種不加修飾的悲觀與生俱來的憂鬱，它們往往在最明朗的天空下紮下最深的根，並在天國面前嘆息：——

Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.
（拉丁語）
人何生哉？夷之嬌華；
旭日而榮，日暮而衰。
（中譯借鑑〈秋聲賦〉：夷，戮也；物過盛而當殺。）

文學的卡齊（Kází，法官）以堪為典範的公正與嚴厲執行詩藝的正義；「譴責作惡之徒，並頌揚卓越完成的善行。」它的道德底蘊是健全而健康的；而有時，我們甚至能在縱情聲色、放浪不羈的畫面中，窺見一種超越世俗的道德遠景，正是柏拉圖筆下的蘇格拉底的道德觀。陰險的腐化與隱晦的淫蕩在此蕩然無存；在許多法國短篇小說裡，如《茶花女》(La Dame aux Camelias)，我們反倒能遇到更多真正的“惡行”（vice），我們當代不少英國小說亦然，更甚於這部阿拉伯作品中的數千頁。在這裡，我們徹底見不到那種極為恬不知恥的現代式「矜持」，在毫無暗示之處偏要看出隱晦的暗示，在無傷大雅之時偏要指為「不當」的影射；同樣，我們也見不到十九世紀的溫文儒雅；言辭的清白卻非思想的清白；舌尖上的道德卻非心靈的道德，以及那種假借虔誠崇敬美德之名的徹底偽善。確實如此，那些古雅元素、稚嫩生澀、幼兒下流，以及「空洞而多情」的語句，成爲獨一無二的對照，與人生與性格中最出色且最高深的見解相互衝擊，這一切展現在奇妙畫面中宛如萬花筒般的變化，帶著許多「故事所虛構的豐厚真理」，並以媲美「wut」那般粗礪乾澀的幽默添上鋒芒；交替著力量與軟弱、哀婉與庸俗、最為大膽的詩句（《約伯記》的措辭）與最為露骨的散文（當代埃及語體）；宗教與道德，和非洲阿普列烏斯與佩特羅尼烏斯·阿爾比特（African Apuleius and Petronius Arbiter）的縱慾狂歡相逢——有時甚至令讀者屏息——最後，各個方面都被那奇妙的東方幻想所主宰，在其中，精神與超自然之物和物質與大自然一樣平常；正是這種對照，我得說，構成了《天方夜譚》最主要的魅力，賦予它最為鮮明的獨創性，並使它成為中古穆斯林心靈的完美詮釋者。

原文

After nearly a century had elapsed, Dr. Jonathan Scott (LL.D. H.E.I.C.'s S., Persian Secretary to the G. G. Bengal; Oriental Professor, etc., etc.), printed his "Tales, Anecdotes, and Letters, translated from the Arabic and Persian," (Cadell and Davies, London, A.D. 1800); and followed in 1811 with an edition of "The Arabian Nights' Entertainments" from the MS. of Edward Wortley Montague (in 6 vols., small 8vo, London: Longmans, etc.).  This work he (and he only) describes as "Carefully revised and occasionally corrected from the Arabic." The reading public did not wholly reject it, sundry texts were founded upon the Scott version and it has been imperfectly reprinted (4 vols., 8vo, Nimmo and Bain, London, 1883). But most men, little recking what a small portion of the original they were reading, satisfied themselves with the Anglo-French epitome and metaphrase. and began to translate, "The Book of the Thousand Nights and One Night," (1 vol., 8vo, Calcutta: W. Thacker and Co.) from the Arabic of the Ægyptian (!) MS. edited by Mr. (afterwards Sir) William H. Macnaghten. The attempt, or rather the intention, was highly creditable; the copy was carefully moulded upon the model and offered the best example of the verbatim et literatim style. But the plucky author knew little of Arabic, and least of what is most wanted, the dialect of Egypt and Syria. His prose is so conscientious as to offer up spirit at the shrine of letter; and his verse, always whimsical, has at times a manner of Hibernian whoop which is comical when it should be pathetic. Lastly he printed only one volume of a series which completed would have contained nine or ten.

That amiable and devoted Arabist, the late Edward William Lane does not score a success in his "New Translation of the Tales of a Thousand and One Nights" (London: Charles Knight and Co., MDCCCXXXIX.) of which there have been four English editions, besides American, two edited by E. S. Poole. He chose the abbreviating Bulak Edition; and, of its two hundred tales, he has omitted about half and by far the more characteristic half: the work was intended for "the drawing-room table;" and, consequently, the workman was compelled to avoid the "objectionable" and aught "approaching to licentiousness." He converts the Arabian Nights into the Arabian Chapters, arbitrarily changing the division and, worse still, he converts some chapters into notes. He renders poetry by prose and apologises for not omitting it altogether: he neglects assonance and he is at once too Oriental and not Oriental enough. He had small store of Arabic at the time—Lane of the Nights is not Lane of the Dictionary—and his pages are disfigured by many childish mistakes. Worst of all, the three handsome volumes are rendered unreadable as Sale's Koran by their anglicised Latin, their sesquipedalian un-English words, and the stiff and stilted style of half a century ago when our prose was, perhaps, the worst in Europe. 

Mr. John Payne has printed, for the Villon Society and for private circulation only, the first and sole complete translation of the great compendium, "comprising about four times as much matter as that of Galland, and three times as much as that of any other translator;" and I cannot but feel proud that he has honoured me with the dedication of "The Book of The Thousand Nights and One Night." His version is most readable: his English, with a sub-flavour of the Mabinogionic archaicism, is admirable; He succeeds admirably in the most difficult passages and he often hits upon choice and special terms and the exact vernacular equivalent of the foreign word, so happily and so picturesquely that all future translators must perforce use the same expression under pain of falling far short. But the learned and versatile author bound himself to issue only five hundred copies, and "not to reproduce the work in its complete and uncastrated form." Consequently his excellent version is caviaire to the general—practically unprocurable.

And here I hasten to confess that ample use has been made of the three versions above noted, the whole being blended by a callida junctura into a homogeneous mass.  But in the presence of so many predecessors a writer is bound to show some raison d'être for making a fresh attempt and this I proceed to do with due reserve.

Briefly, the object of this version is to show what "The Thousand Nights and a Night" really is. Not, however, for reasons to be more fully stated in the terminal Essay, by straining verbum reddere verbo, but by writing as the Arab would have written in English. On this point I am all with Saint Jerome (Pref. in Jobum) "Vel verbum e verbo, vel sensum e sensu, vel ex utroque commixtum, et medie temperatum genus translationis." My work claims to be a faithful copy of the great Eastern Saga-book, by preserving intact, not only the spirit, but even the mécanique, the manner and the matter. Hence, however prosy and long-drawn out be the formula, it retains the scheme of the Nights because they are a prime feature in the original. The Ráwí or reciter, to whose wits the task of supplying details is left, well knows their value: the openings carefully repeat the names of the dramatis personæ and thus fix them in the hearer's memory. Without the Nights no Arabian Nights! Moreover it is necessary to retain the whole apparatus: nothing more ill-advised than Dr. Jonathan Scott's strange device of garnishing The Nights with fancy head-pieces and tail-pieces or the splitting-up of Galland's narrative by merely prefixing "Nuit," etc., ending moreover, with the ccxxxivth Night: yet this has been done, apparently with the consent of the great Arabist Sylvestre de Sacy (Paris, Ernest Bourdin). Moreover, holding that the translator's glory is to add something to his native tongue, while avoiding the hideous hag-like nakedness of Torrens and the bald literalism of Lane, I have carefully Englished the picturesque turns and novel expressions of the original in all their outlandishness; for instance, when the dust-cloud raised by a tramping host is described as "walling the horizon." Hence peculiar attention has been paid to the tropes and figures which the Arabic language often packs into a single term; and I have never hesitated to coin a word when wanted, such as "she snorted and snarked," fully to represent the original. These, like many in Rabelais, are mere barbarisms unless generally adopted; in which case they become civilised and common currency.

Despite objections manifold and manifest, I have preserved the balance of sentences and the prose rhyme and rhythm which Easterns look upon as mere music. This "Saj'a," or cadence of the cooing dove, has in Arabic its special duties. It adds a sparkle to description and a point to proverb, epigram and dialogue; it corresponds with our "artful alliteration" (which in places I have substituted for it) and, generally, it defines the boundaries between the classical and the popular styles which jostle each other in The Nights. If at times it appear strained and forced, after the wont of rhymed prose, the scholar will observe that, despite the immense copiousness of assonants and consonants in Arabic, the strain is often put upon it intentionally, like the Rims cars of Dante and the Troubadours. This rhymed prose may be "un-English" and unpleasant, even irritating to the British ear; still I look upon it as a sine quâ non for a complete reproduction of the original. In the terminal Essay I shall revert to the subject.

On the other hand when treating the versicle portion, which may represent a total of ten thousand lines, I have not always bound myself by the metrical bonds of the Arabic, which are artificial in the extreme, and which in English can be made bearable only by a tour de force. I allude especially to the monorhyme, Rim continuat or tirade monorime, whose monotonous simplicity was preferred by the Troubadours for threnodies. It may serve well for three or four couplets but, when it extends, as in the Ghazal-canzon, to eighteen, and in the Kasidah, elegy or ode, to more, it must either satisfy itself with banal rhyme-words, when the assonants should as a rule be expressive and emphatic; or, it must display an ingenuity, a smell of the oil, which assuredly does not add to the reader's pleasure. It can perhaps be done and it should be done; but for me the task has no attractions: I can fence better in shoes than in sabots. Finally I print the couplets in Arab form separating the hemistichs by asterisks. Another justly observes, Les peuples primitifs n'y entendent pas malice: ils appellent les choses par leurs noms et ne trouvent pas condamnable ce qui est naturel. 

And now to consider one matter of special importance in the book its turpiloquium. This stumbling-block is of two kinds, completely distinct. One is the simple, naïve and child-like indecency which, from Tangiers to Japan, occurs throughout general conversation of high and low in the present day. It uses, like the holy books of the Hebrews, expressions "plainly descriptive of natural situations;" and it treats in an unconventionally free and naked manner of subjects and matters which are usually, by common consent, left undescribed. As Sir William Jones observed long ago, "that anything natural can be offensively obscene never seems to have occurred to the Indians or to their legislators; a singularity (?) pervading their writings and conversation, but no proof of moral depravity." And they are prying as children. For instance the European novelist marries off his hero and heroine and leaves them to consummate marriage in privacy; even Tom Jones has the decency to bolt the door. But the Eastern story-teller, especially this unknown "prose Shakespeare," must usher you, with a flourish, into the bridal chamber and narrate to you, with infinite gusto, everything he sees and hears. Again we must remember that grossness and indecency, in fact les turpitudes, are matters of time and place; what is offensive in England is not so in Egypt; what scandalises us now would have been a tame joke tempore Elisæ. Withal The Nights will not be found in this matter coarser than many passages of Shakspeare, Sterne, and Swift, and their uncleanness rarely attains the perfection of Alcofribas Nasier, "divin maître et atroce cochon." The other element is absolute obscenity, sometimes, but not always, tempered by wit, humour and drollery; here we have an exaggeration of Petronius Arbiter, the handiwork of writers whose ancestry, the most religious and the most debauched of mankind, practised every abomination before the shrine of the Canopic Gods.

In accordance with my purpose of reproducing the Nights, not virginibus puerisque, but in as perfect a picture as my powers permit, I have carefully sought out the English equivalent of every Arabic word, however low it may be or "shocking" to ears polite; preserving, on the other hand, all possible delicacy where the indecency is not intentional; and, as a friend advises me to state, not exaggerating the vulgarities and the indecencies which, indeed, can hardly be exaggerated. For the coarseness and crassness are but the shades of a picture which would otherwise be all lights. The general tone of The Nights is exceptionally high and pure. The devotional fervour often rises to the boiling-point of fanaticism. The pathos is sweet, deep and genuine; tender, simple and true, utterly unlike much of our modern tinsel. Its life, strong, splendid and multitudinous, is everywhere flavoured with that unaffected pessimism and constitutional melancholy which strike deepest root under the brightest skies and which sigh in the face of heaven:—

Vita quid est hominis? Viridis floriscula mortis;
Sole Oriente oriens, sole cadente cadens.

Poetical justice is administered by the literary Kází with exemplary impartiality and severity; "denouncing evil doers and eulogising deeds admirably achieved." The morale is sound and healthy; and at times we descry, through the voluptuous and libertine picture, vistas of a transcendental morality, the morality of Socrates in Plato. Subtle corruption and covert licentiousness are utterly absent; we find more real "vice" in many a short French roman, say La Dame aux Camelias, and in not a few English novels of our day than in the thousands of pages of the Arab. Here we have nothing of that most immodest modern modesty which sees covert implication where nothing is implied, and "improper" allusion, when propriety is not outraged; nor do we meet with the Nineteenth Century refinement; innocence of the word not of the thought; morality of the tongue not of the heart, and the sincere homage paid to virtue in guise of perfect hypocrisy. It is, indeed, this unique contrast of a quaint element, childish crudities and nursery indecencies and "vain and amatorious" phrase jostling the finest and highest views of life and character, shown in the kaleidoscopic shiftings of the marvellous picture with many a "rich truth in a tale's pretence"; pointed by a rough dry humour which compares well with "wut;" the alternations of strength and weakness, of pathos and bathos, of the boldest poetry (the diction of Job) and the baldest prose (the Egyptian of to-day); the contact of religion and morality with the orgies of African Apuleius and Petronius Arbiter—at times taking away the reader's breath—and, finally, the whole dominated everywhere by that marvellous Oriental fancy, wherein the spiritual and the supernatural are as common as the material and the natural; it is this contrast, I say, which forms the chiefest charm of The Nights, which gives it the most striking originality and which makes it a perfect expositor of the medieval Moslem mind.