veils and robes, surrounded by their maids, which are always very numerous, in the same manner as we find Andromache and Helen described. The description of the belt of Menelaus exactly resembles those that are now worn by the great men, fastened before with broad golden clasps, and embroidered round with rich work. The snowy veil, that Helen throws over her face, is still fashionable; and I never see half a dozen of old Bashas (as I do very often) with their reverend beards, sitting basking in the sun, but I recollect good King Priam and his counsellors. Their manner of dancing is certainly the same that Diana is sung to have danced on the banks of Eurotas. The great lady still leads the dance, and is followed by a troop of young girls, who imitate her steps, and if she sings, make up the chorus. The tunes are extremely gay and lively, yet with something in them wonderfully soft. The steps are varied according to the pleasure of her that leads the dance, but always in exact time, and infinitely more agreeable than any of our dances, at least in my opinion. I sometimes make one in the train, but am not skilful enough to lead; these are the Grecian dances, the Turkish being very different. I should have told you, in the first place, that the Eastern manners give a great light into many scripturepassages that appear odd to us, their phrases being commonly what we should call scripture language. The vulgar Turk is very different from what is spoke at court, or amongst the people of figure; who always mix so much Arabic and Persian in their discourse, that it may very well be called another language. And it is as ridiculous to make use of the expressions commonly used, in speaking to a great man or lady, as it would be to speak broad Yorkshire, or Somersetshire, in the drawing-room. Besides this distinction, they have what they call the sublime, that is, a style proper for poetry, and which is the exact scripture style. I believe you would be pleased to see a genuine example of this; and I am very glad I have it in my power to satisfy your curiosity, by sending you a faithful copy of the verses that Ibrahim Basha, the reigning favourite, has made for the young princess, his contracted wife, whom he is not yet permitted to visit without witnesses, though she is gone home to his house. He is a man of wit and learning; and whether or no he is capable of writing good verse, you may be sure that on such an occasion, he would not want the assistance of the best poets in the empire. Thus the verses may be looked upon as a sample of their finest poetry, and I do not doubt you will be of my mind, that it is most wonderfully resembling the Song of Solomon, which also was addressed to a royal bride. Turkish Verses addressed to the Sultana, eldest daughter of Sultan Achmet III. STANZA I. Ver. 1. The nightingale now wanders in the vines ; 2. I went down to admire the beauty of the vines ; 3. Your eyes are black and lovely, But wild and disdainful as those of a stag; STANZA II. 1. The wished possession is delayed from day to day; To see those cheeks more vermilion than roses. 2. I dare not snatch one of your kisses; The sweetness of your charms has ravish'd my soul. 3. Your eyes are black and lovely, But wild and disdainful as those of a stag. STANZA III. 1. The wretched Ibrahim sighs in these verses; One dart from your eyes has pierced through my heart. 2. Ah! when will the hour of possession arrive? Must I yet wait a long time? The sweetness of your charms has ravish'd my soul. Ver. 3. Ah! Sultana! stag-eyed-an angel amongst angels! STANZA IV. 1. My cries pierce the heavens ! My eyes are without sleep! Turn to me, Sultana! let me gaze on thy beauty. My heart is hot as sulphur ;-sigh, and it will flame. 3. Crown of my life, fair light of my eyes! My Sultana! my princess! I rub my face against the earth ;-I am drowned in scalding tears Have you no compassion? will you not turn to look upon me? I have taken abundance of pains to get these verses in a literal translation; and if you were acquainted with my interpreters, I might spare myself the trouble of assuring you, that they have received no poetical touches from their hands. In my opinion (allowing for the inevitable faults of a prose translation into a language so very different) there is a good deal of beauty in them. The epithet of stag-eyed (though the sound is not very agreeable in English) pleases me extremely; and I think it a very lively image of the fire and indifference in his mistress's eyes. -Monsieur Boileau has very justly observed, that we are never to judge of the elevation of an expression in an ancient author, by the sound it carries with us; since it may be extremely fine with them, when, at the same time, it appears low or uncouth to us. You are so well acquainted with Homer, you cannot but have observed the same thing, and you must have the same indulgence for all oriental poetry. The repetitions at the end of the two first stanzas are meant for a sort of chorus, and are agreeable to the ancient manner of writing. The music of the verses apparently changes in the third stanza, where the burden is altered; and I think he very artfully seems more passionate at the conclusion, as it is natural for people to warm themselves by their own discourse, especially on a subject in which one is deeply concerned; it is certainly far more touching, than our modern custom of concluding a song of passion, with a turn which is inconsistent with it. The first verse is a description of the season of the year; all the country now being full of nightingales, whose amours with roses, is an Arabian fable, as well known here, as any part of Ovid amongst us, and is much the same as if an English poem should begin, by saying," Now Philomela sings." Or what if I turned the whole into the style of English poetry, to see how it would look? STANZA I. "Now Philomel renews her tender strain, 66 I sought the groves to hear the wanton sing, STANZA II. "In vain I'm promis'd such a heavenly prize. 66 While piercing charms transfix my amorous heart, Those eyes like, &c. STANZA III. "Your wretched lover in these lines complains : "When will the hour of wish'd-for bliss arrive? 66 Sinking to earth, I sigh the last adieu, Call me, my goddess, and my life renew. My queen! my angel! my fond heart's desire! I rave-my bosom burns with heavenly fire! Pity that passion which thy charms inspire." I have taken the liberty in the second verse, of following what I suppose the true sense of the author, though not literally expressed. By his saying he went down to admire the beauty of the vines, and her charms ravished his soul; I understand a poetical fiction, of having first seen her in a garden, where he was admiring the beauty of the spring. But I could not forbear retaining the comparison of her eyes with those of a stag, though perhaps the novelty of it may give it a burlesque sound in our language. I cannot determine upon the whole, how well I have succeeded in the translation, neither do I think our English proper to express such violence of passion, which is very seldom felt amongst us. We want, also, those compound words which are very frequent and strong in the Turkish language. You see I am pretty far gone in oriental learning, and to say truth, I study very hard. I wish my studies may give me an occasion of entertaining your curiosity, which will be the utmost advantage hoped for from them by Yours, &c. LETTER XVI. FROM LADY MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU. Belgrade Village, June 17, 1717. I HOPE before this time, you have received two or three of my letters. I had yours but yesterday, though dated the third of February, in which you suppose me to be dead and buried. I have already let you know that I am still alive; but, to say truth, I look upon my |