of the “writer.” He is an elegant
narrator. Not only does he intersperse verses
and lines more frequently than our own taste would
license: by nature, he easily falls into the
half-hearted poetry of rhymed prose, for which the
rich assonances of his language predispose. His
own learning was further cultivated by his early contact
with Persian literature; through which the fable and
the wisdom of India spoken from the mouths of dumb
animals reached him. In this more frivolous form
of inculcating wisdom, the Prophet scented danger
to his strait-laced demands: “men who bring
sportive legends, to lead astray from God’s path
without knowledge and to make a jest of it; for such
is shameful woe,” is written in the thirty-first
Surah. In vain; for in hours of relaxation, such
works as the ‘Fables of Bidpai’ (translated
from the Persian in 750 by ’Abd Allah ibn Mukaffah),
the ‘Ten Viziers,’ the ‘Seven Wise
Masters,’ etc., proved to be food too palatable.
Nor were the Arabs wanting in their own peculiar ‘Romances,’
influenced only in some portions of the setting by
Persian ideas. Such were the ‘Story of Saif
ibn dhi Yazan,’ the ’Tale of al-Zir,’
the ‘Romance of Dalhmah,’ and especially
the ‘Romance of Antar’ and the ‘Thousand
Nights and A Night.’ The last two romances
are excellent commentaries on Arab life, at its dawn
and at its fullness, among the roving chiefs of the
desert and the homes of revelry in Bagdad. As
the rough-hewn poetry of Imr-al-Kais and Zuheir is
a clearer exponent of the real Arab mind, roving at
its own suggestion, than the more perfect and softer
lines of a Mutanabbi, so is the ’Romance of
Antar’ the full expression of real Arab hero-worship.
And even in the cities of the Orient to-day, the loungers
in their cups can never weary of following the exploits
of this black son of the desert, who in his person
unites the great virtues of his people, magnanimity
and bravery, with the gift of poetic speech.
Its tone is elevated; its coarseness has as its origin
the outspokenness of unvarnished man; it does not peep
through the thin veneer of licentious suggestiveness.
It is never trivial, even in its long and wearisome
descriptions, in its ever-recurring outbursts of love.
Its language suits its thought: choice and educated,
and not descending—as in the ’Nights’—to
the common expressions of ordinary speech. In
this it resembles the ‘Makamat’ of Hariri,
though much less artificial and more enjoyable.
It is the Arabic romance of chivalry, and may not
have been without influence on the spread of the romance
of mediaeval Europe. For though its central figure
is a hero of pre-Islamic times, it was put together
by the learned philologian, al-’Asmai, in the
days of Harun the Just, at the time when Charlemagne
was ruling in Europe.