THE GIAOUR; A FRAGMENT OF A TURKISH TALE. "One fatal remembrance-one sorrow that throws ΤΟ SAMUEL ROGERS, ESQ. AS A SLIGHT BUT MOST SINCERE TOKEN OF ADMIRATION FOR HIS GENIUS, RESPECT THIS PRODUCTION IS INSCRIBED LONDON, May, 1813. BY HIS OBLIGED AND AFFECTIONATE SERVANT, BYRON. ADVERTISEMENT. THE tale which these disjointed fragments present, is founded upon circumstances now less common in the East than formerly, either because the ladies are more circumspect than in the "olden time," or because the Christians have better fortune, or less enterprise. The story, when entire, contained the adventures of a female slave, who was thrown, in the Mussulman manner, into the sea for infidelity, and avenged by a young Venetian, her lover, at the time the Seven Islands were possessed by the Republic of Venice, and soon after the Arnauts were beaten back from the Morea, which they had ravaged for some time subsequent to the Russian invasion. The desertion of the Mainotes, on being refused the plunder of Misitra, led to the abandonment of that enterprise, and to the desolation of the Morea, during which the cruelty exercised on all sides was unparalleled even in the annals of the faithful." THE GIAOUR. No breath of air to break the wave Fair clime where every season smiles was not, we are assured by Sir John Hobhouse, an object of his Lordship's attachment, but of that of his Turkish servant. For the Marquis of Sligo's account of the affair, see Moore's Notices.] A tomb above the rocks on the promontory, by some supposed the sepulchre of Themistocles.-[" There are," says Cumberland, in his Observer, a few lines by Plato, upon the tomb of Themistocles, which have a turn of ele translation than I can give : [The “Giaour" was published in May, 1813, and abumdantly sustained the impression created by the first two cantos of Childe Harold. It is obvious that in this, the first of his romantic narratives, Lord Byron's versification reflects the admiration he always avowed for Mr. Coleridge's "Christabel."-the irregular rhythm of which had already been adopted in the Lay of the Last Minstrel." The fragmentary style of the composition was suggested by the then new and popular " Columbus" of Mr. Rogers. As to the subject,gant and pathetic simplicity in them, that deserves a better it was not merely by recent travel that the author had familiarized himself with Turkish history. "Old Knolles," he said at Missolonghi, a few weeks before his death, "was one of the first books that gave me pleasure when a child; and I believe it had much influence on my future wishes to visit the Levant, and gave, perhaps, the oriental coloring which is observed in my poetry." In the margin of his copy of Mr. D'Israeli's Essay on the Literary Character, we find the following note:- Knolles, Cantemir, De Tott, Lady M. W. Montague, Hawkins's translation from Mignot's History of the Turks, the Arabian Nights-all travels or histories, or books upon the East, I could meet with, I had read, as well as Ricaut, before I was ten years old."] 2 [An event, in which Lord Byron was personally concerned, undoubtedly supplied the groundwork of this tale; but for the story, so circumstantially put forth, of his having himself been the lover of this female slave, there is no foundation. The girl whose life the poet saved at Athens By the sea's margin, on the watery strand, 4 [" Of the beautiful flow of Byron's fancy," says Moore, "when its sources were once opened on any subject, the Giaour affords one of the most remarkable instances: this poem having accumulated under his hand, both in printing and through successive editions, till from four hundred lines, of which it consisted in its first copy, it at present amounts to fourteen hundred. The plan, indeed, which he had adopted, of a series of fragments,-a set of orient pearls at random strung-left him free to introduce, without reference to more than the general complexion of his story, whatever sen And if at times a transient breeze That wakes and wafts the odors there! The maid for whom his melody, His thousand songs are heard on high, I Is heard, and seen the evening star; Strange that where Nature loved to trace, And every charm and grace hath mix'd And trample, brute-like, o'er each flower taments or images his fancy, in its excursions, could collect; and, how little fettered he was by any regard to connection in these additions, appears from a note which accompanied his own copy of this paragraph, in which he says,-'I have not yet fixed the place of insertion for the following lines, but will, when I see you-as I have no copy. Even into this new passage, rich as it was at first, his fancy afterwards poured a fresh infusion."-The value of these after-touches of the master may be appreciated by comparing the following verses, from his original draft of this paragraph, with the form which they now wear: "Fair clime! where ceaseless summer smiles, There shine the bright abodes ye seek, These Edens of the eastern wave. Or if, at times, the transient breeze That waves and wafts the fragrance there." The attachment of the nightingale to the rose is a wellknown Persian fable. If I mistake not, the "Bulbul of a thousand tales" is one of his appellations. [Thus, Mesihi, as translated by Sir William Jones: "Come, charming maid! and hear thy poet sing, But springs as to preclude his care, And, fix'd on heavenly thrones, should dwell So soft the scene, so form'd for joy, So cursed the tyrants that destroy! He who hath bent him o'er the dead' Have swept the lines where beauty lingers,) That fires not, wins not, weeps not, now, The doom he dreads, yet dwells upon; 2 The guitar is the constant amusement of the Greek sailor by night with a steady fair wind, and during a calm, it is accompanied always by the voice, and often by dancing. 3 [If once the public notice is drawn to a poet, the talents he exhibits on a nearer view, the weight his mind carries with it in his every-day intercourse, somehow or other, are reflected around on his compositions, and co-operate in giving a collateral force to their impression on the public. To this we must assign some part of the impression made by the "Giaour." The thirty-five lines beginning "He who hath bent him o'er the dead" are so beautiful, so original, and so utterly beyond the reach of any one whose poetical genius was not very decided, and very rich, that they alone, under the circumstances explained, were sufficient to secure celebrity to this poem.-SIR E. BRYDGES.] ["And mark'd the almost dreaming air Which speaks the sweet repose that's there."-MS.] "Ay, but to die and go we know not where, To lye in cold obstruction ?" Hers is the loveliness in death, That parts not quite with parting breath; A gilded halo hovering round decay, The farewell beam of Feeling pass'd away! Clime of the unforgotten brave !2 Oh servile offspring of the free- What can he tell who treads thy shore? No legend of thine olden time, No theme on which the muse might soar High as thine own in days of yore, genius-"The present state of Greece, compared to the ancient, is the silent obscurity of the grave contrasted with the vivid lustre of active life."-MOORE.] 1 [There is infinite beauty and effect, though of a painful and almost oppressive character, in this extraordinary passage; in which the author has illustrated the beautiful, but still and melancholy aspect of the once busy and glorious shores of Greece, by an image more true, more mournful, and more exquisitely finished, than any that we can recollect in the whole compass of poetry.-JEFFREY.] 2[From this line to the conclusion of the paragraph, the MS. is written in a hurried and almost illegible hand, as if these splendid lines had been poured forth in one continuous burst of poetic feeling, which would hardly allow time for the hand to follow the rapid flow of the imagination.] 3 Athens is the property of the Kislar Aga, (the slave of When man was worthy of thy clime. The hearts within thy valleys bred, The fiery souls that might have led Thy sons to deeds sublime, Now crawl from cradle to the grave, Slaves-nay, the bondsmen of a slave, And callous, save to crime; Stain'd with each evil that pollutes Mankind, where least above the brutes; Without even savage virtue bless'd, Without one free or valiant breast. Still to the neighboring ports they waft Proverbial wiles, and ancient craft; In this the subtle Greek is found, For this, and this alone, renown'd. In vain might Liberty invoke The spirit to its bondage broke, Or raise the neck that courts the yoke: No more her sorrows I bewail, Yet this will be a mournful tale, And they who listen may believe, Who heard it first had cause to grieve. Who thundering comes on blackest steed," With slacken'd bit and hoof of speed? Beneath the clattering iron's sound The cavern'd echoes wake around In lash for lash, and bound for bound; The foam that streaks the courser's side Seems gather'd from the ocean-tide: Though weary waves are sunk to rest, There's none within his rider's breast; And though to-morrow's tempest lower, "Tis calmer than thy heart, young Giaour! I know thee not, I loathe thy race, But in thy lineaments I trace What time shall strengthen, not efface: the seraglio and guardian of the women,) who appoints the Waywode. A pander and eunuch-these are not polite, yet true appellations-now governs the governor of Athens! [The reciter of the tale is a Turkish fisherman, who has been employed during the day in the gulf of Ægina, and in the evening, apprehensive of the Mainote pirates who infest the coast of Attica, lands with his boat on the harbor of Port Leone, the ancient Piræus. He becomes the eyewitness of nearly all the incidents in the story, and in one of them is a principal agent. It is to his feelings, and particularly to his religious prejudices, that we are indebted for some of the most forcible and splendid parts of the poem.-GEORGE ELLIS.] 6 [In Dr. Clarke's Travels, this word, which means Infidel, is always written according to its English pronunciation, Djour. Lord Byron adopted the Italian spelling usual among the Franks of the Levant.] Though bent on earth thine evil eye, On-on he hasten'd, and he drew 1 For well I ween unwelcome he 1 The Mosque's high lamps are quivering still: Though too remote for sound to wake In echoes of the far tophaike,' He stood some dread was on his face, His brow was bent, his eye was glazed; Here loud his raven charger neigh'd Down glanced that hand, and grasp'd his blade; That sound had burst his waking dream, As Slumber starts at owlet's scream. The spur hath lanced his courser's sides; For infinite as boundless space The thought that Conscience must embrace, Wo without name, or hope, or end. The hour is past, the Giaour is gone; He came, he went, like the Simoom, Tophaike," musket.-The Bairam is announced by the cannon at sunset; the illumination of the Mosques, and the firing of all kinds of small arms, loaded with ball, proclaim it during the night. *** Hesty blush."-" For hasty, all the editions till the twelfth read, darkening blush.' On the back of a copy of the eleventh, Lord Byron has written, " Why did not the printer attend to the solitary correction so repeatedly made? I have no copy of this, and desire to have none till my request is complied with." " [Then turn'd it swiftly to his blade, As loud his raven charger neigh'd.”—MS.] Jerreed, or Djerrid, a blunted Turkish javelin, which is darted from horseback with great force and precision. It is a favorite exercise of the Mussulmans; but I know not If it can be called a manly one, since the most expert in the art are the Black Eunuchs of Constantinople. I think, next to these, a Mamlouk at Smyrna was the most skilful that cane within my observation. [Every gesture of the impetuous horseman is full of anxiety and passion. In the midst of his career, whilst in full view of the astonished spectator, he suddenly checks his skel, and rising on his stirrup, surveys, with a look of agonizing impatience, the distant city illuminated for the feast of Bairam; then pale with anger, raises his arm as if to menace of an invisible enemy; but awakened from his trance of passion by the neighing of his charger, again hurnes forward, and disappears.-GEORGE ELLIS.] ["Twas but an instant, though so long When thus dilated in my song."—MS.] 7["But neither fled nor fell alone."-MS.] 8 The blast of the desert, fatal to every thing living, and often alluded to in eastern poetry.-[Abyssinian Bruce gives, perhaps, the liveliest account of the appearance and effects of the suffocating blast of the Desert: At eleven o'clock," he says, "while we contemplated with great pleasure the rugged top of Chiggre, to which we were fast approaching, and where we were to solace ourselves with plenty of good water, Idris, our guide, cried out with a loud voice, Fall upon your faces, for here is the simoom.' I saw from the southeast a haze come, in color like the purple part of the rainbow, but not so compressed or thick. It did not occupy twenty yards in breadth, and was about twelve feet high from the ground. It was a kind of blush upon the air, and it moved very rapidly; for I scarce could turn to fall upon the ground, with my head to the northward, when I felt the heat of its current plainly upon my face. We all lay flat on the ground as if dead, till Idris told us it was blown over. The meteor, or purple haze, which I saw was, indeed, passed, but the light air, which still blew, was of a heat to threaten suffocation. For my part, I found distinctly in my breast that I had imbibed a part of it; nor was I free of an asthmatic sensation till I had been some months in Italy, at the baths of Poretta, near two years afterwards."-See Bruce's Life and Travels, p. 470, edit. 1830.] Beneath whose widely-wasting breath The steed is vanish'd from the stall; The wild-dog howls o'er the fountain's brim, With baffled thirst, and famine, grim;2 For the stream has shrunk from its marble bed, Where the weeds and the desolate dust are spread. "Twas sweet of yore to see it play And chase the sultriness of day, In whirls fantastically flew, And flung luxurious coolness round "Twas sweet, when cloudless stars were bright, And oft had Hassan's Childhood play'd Its bank been sooth'd by Beauty's song; But the lattice that flaps when the wind is shrill: ["The lonely spider's thin gray pall Is curtain'd on the splendid wall."-MS.] 2 ["The wild-dog howls o'er the fountain's brink, But vainly tells his tongue to drink."-MS.] 3 [For thirsty fox and jackal gaunt May vainly for its waters pant."-MS.] [This part of the narrative not only contains much brilliant and just description, but is managed with unusual taste. The fisherman has, hitherto, related nothing more than the extraordinary phenomenon which had excited his curiosity, and of which it is his immediate object to explain the cause to his hearers; but instead of proceeding to do so, he stops to vent his execrations on the Giaour, to describe the solitude of Hassan's once luxurious harem, and to lament the untimely death of the owner, and of Leila, together with the cessation of that hospitality which they had uniformly experienced. He reveals, as if unintentionally and unconsciously, the catastrophe of his story; but he thus prepares his appeal to the sympathy of his audience, without much diminishing their suspense.-GEORGE ELLIS.] ["I have just recollected an alteration you may make in the proof. Among the lines on Hassan's Serai, is this'Unmeet for solitude to share.' Now, to share implies more than one, and Solitude is a single gentleman; it must be thus So here the very voice of Grief With Hassan on the mountain side. Is Desolation's hungry den. The guest flies the hall, and the vassal from labor, Since his turban was cleft by the infidel's sabre !" I hear the sound of coming feet, An Emir by his garb of green: "Ho! who art thou?"-" This low salam10 Replies of Moslem faith I am.”— "The burden ye so gently bear Seems one that claims your utmost care, And, doubtless, holds some precious freight, My humble bark would gladly wait." "Thou speakest sooth; thy skiff unmoor, And waft us from the silent shore; Nay, leave the sail still furl'd, and ply The nearest oar that's scatter'd by, And midway to those rocks where sleep The channel'd waters dark and deep. Rest from your task-so-bravely done, Our course has been right swiftly run; Yet 'tis the longest voyage, I trow, That one of 'For many a gilded chamber 's there, and so on. Will you adopt this correction? and pray accept a Stilton cheese from me for your trouble.-P. S. I leave this to your discretion: if anybody thinks the old line a good one, or the cheese a bad one, don't accept of either." -Byron Letters, Stilton, Oct. 3, 1813.] To partake of food, to break bread and salt with your host, ensures the safety of the guest: even though an enemy, his person from that moment is sacred. I need hardly observe, that Charity and Hospitality are the first duties enjoined by Mahomet; and to say truth, very generally practised by his disciples. The first praise that can be bestowed on a chief, is a panegyric on his bounty the next, on his valor. The ataghan, a long dagger worn with pistols in the belt, in a metal scabbard, generally of silver; and, among the wealthier, gilt, or of gold. "Green is the privileged color of the prophet's numerous pretended descendants; with them, as here, faith (the family inheritance) is supposed to supersede the necessity of good works they are the worst of a very indifferent brood. 10 Salam aleikoum! aleikoum salam!" peace be with you be with you peace--the salutation reserved for the faithful:-to a Christian, "Urlarula,' a good journey; or "saban hiresem, saban serula," good morn, good even; and sometimes," may your end be happy," are the usual salutes. |