Subsequently Burton observed that Mr. Payne required no a.s.sistance of any kind; and therefore he re-refused to accept remuneration for reading the proofs. Naturally, they differed, as Arabists all do, upon certain points, but on all subjects save two Burton allowed that Mr. Payne"s opinion was as good as his own.

The first concerned the jingles in the prose portions of the Nights, such as "The trees are growing and the waters flowing and Allah all good bestowing." Burton wanted them to be preserved, but to this Mr. Payne could not consent, and he gives the reasons in his Terminal Essay.

The second exception was the treatment of the pa.s.sages referring to a particular subject; and this indicates to us clearly the difference in the ideas and aims of the two men. Of artistry, of what FitzGerald calls "sinking and reducing," Burton had no notion. "If anything is in any redaction of the original, in it should go," he said. "Never mind how shocking it may be to modern and western minds. If I sin, I sin in good company--in the company of the authors of the Authorised Version of the Bible, who did not hesitate to render literatim certain pa.s.sages which persons aiming simply at artistic effect would certainly have omitted."

Payne on the other hand was inclined to minimise these pa.s.sages as much as possible. Though determined that his translation should be a complete one, yet he entirely omitted coa.r.s.enesses whenever he could find excuse to do so--that is to say, when they did not appear in all the texts. If no such excuse existed he clothed the idea in skilful language. [364]

Nothing is omitted; but it is of course within the resources of literary art to say anything without real offence. Burton, who had no apt.i.tude for the task; who, moreover, had other aims, constantly disagreed with Payne upon this point.

Thus, writing 12th May 1883, he says: "You are drawing it very mild. Has there been any unpleasantness about plain speaking? Poor Abu Nuwas [365]

is (as it were) castrated. I should say "Be bold or audace," &c., only you know better than I do how far you can go and cannot go. I should simply translate every word."

"What I meant by literalism," he says, 1st October 1883, "is literally translating each noun (in the long lists which so often occur) in its turn, so that the student can use the translation."

This formed no part of Mr. Payne"s scheme, in fact was directly opposed to the spirit of his work, which was to make the translation, while quite faithful to the original, a monument of n.o.ble English prose and verse.

"I hold the Nights," continues Burton, the best of cla.s.s books, and when a man knows it, he can get on with Arabs everywhere. He thus comments on Payne"s Vol. iv., some of the tales of which, translate them as you will, cannot be other than shocking. "Unfortunately it is these offences (which come so naturally in Greece and Persia, and which belong strictly to their fervid age) that give the book much of its ethnological value.

I don"t know if I ever mentioned to you a paper (unpublished) of mine showing the geographical limits of the evil. [366] I shall publish it some day and surprise the world. [367] I don"t live in England, and I don"t care an asterisk for Public Opinion. [368] I would rather tread on Mrs. Grundy"s pet corn than not, she may howl on her *** *** to her heart"s content." On August 24th (1883) Burton says, "Please keep up in Vol. v. this literality in which you began. My test is that every Arab word should have its equivalent English. ...Pity we can"t manage to end every volume with a tidbit! Would it be dishonest to transfer a tale from one night or nights to another or others? I fancy not, as this is done in various editions. A glorious ending for Vol. iv. Would have been The Three Wishes or the Night of Power [369] and The Cabinet with Five Shelves." [370]

107. The Search for Palmer, October 1882.

Burton was now to make what proved to be his last expedition. All the year Egypt had been ablaze with the rebellion of Arabi Pasha. Alexandria was bombarded by the English on July 11th, Arabi suffered defeat at Tell-el-Kebir three months later. On the commencement of the rebellion the British Government sent out Burton"s old friend Professor Palmer to the Sinaitic peninsula with a view to winning the tribes in that part of the British side, and so preventing the destruction of the Suez Ca.n.a.l.

The expedition was atrociously planned, and the fatal mistake was also made of providing it with 3,000 in gold. Palmer landed at Jaffa at the end of June, and then set out via Gaza across the "Short Desert," for Suez, where he was joined by Captain Gill and Lieutenant Charrington. In fancy one hears him as he enters on his perilous journey asking himself that question, which was so absurdly frequent in his lips, "I wonder what will happen?"

It is customary for travellers, before entering the Arabian wastes, to hire a Ghafir, that is, a guide and protector. Palmer, instead of securing a powerful chief, as the case required, selected a man of small account named Matr Na.s.sar, and this petty shaykh and his nephew were the expedition"s only defence.

The doomed party left Suez on August 8th. On the 10th at midnight they were attacked by the Bedawin. "Palmer expostulated with his a.s.sa.s.sins; but all his sympathetic facility, his appeals to Arab honour and superst.i.tion, his threats, his denunciations, and the gift of eloquence which had so often prevailed with the wild men, were unheeded." As vainly, Matr Na.s.sar [371] covered his proteges with his aba [372] thus making them part of his own family. On the evening of August 11th the captives were led to the high bank of the Wady Sudr, where it received another and smaller fiumara yet unnamed, and bidden to prepare for death. Boldly facing his enemies, Palmer cursed them [373] in Biblical language, and in the name of the Lord. But while the words were in his mouth, a bullet struck him and he fell. His companions also fell in cold blood, and the bodies of all three were thrown down the height [374]--a piteous denouement--and one that has features in common with the tragic death scene of another heroic character of this drama--General Gordon.

The English Government still believed and hoped that Palmer has escaped; and on October 17th it sent a telegram to Burton bidding him go and a.s.sist in the search for his old friend.

Like the war horse in the Bible, the veteran traveller shouted "Aha!"

and he shot across the Mediterranean like a projectile from a cannon.

But he had no sooner reached Suez than he heard--his usual luck--that Sir Charles Warren, with 200 picked men, was scouring the peninsula, and that consequently his own services would not be required. In six weeks he was back again at Trieste and so ended Viator"s [375] last expedition. The remains of Palmer and his two companions were discovered by Sir Charles and sent to England to be interred in St. Paul"s Cathedral. To Palmer"s merits as a man Burton paid glowing tributes; and he praised, too, Palmer"s works, especially The Life of Harun Al Raschid and the translations of Hafiz, [376] Zoheir and the Koran. Of the last Mr. Stanley Lane-Poole says finely: It "has the true desert ring in it;.. the translator has carried us among the Bedawin tents, and breathed into us the strong air of the desert, till we fancy we can hear the rich voice of the Blessed Prophet himself as he spoke to the pilgrims on Akabah."

In his letter to Payne of 23rd December 1882, Burton adumbrates a visit eastward. "After January," he says, "I shall run to the Greek Islands, and pick up my forgotten modern Greek." He was unable, however, to carry out his plans in their entirety. On January 15th he thanks Payne for the loan of the "Uncastrated Villon," [377] and the Calcutta and Breslau editions of the Nights, and says "Your two vols. of Breslau and last proofs reached me yesterday. I had written to old Quaritch for a loan of the Breslau edition. He very sensibly replied by ignoring the loan and sending me a list of his prices. So then the thing dropped. What is the use of paying 3 odd for a work that would be perfectly useless to me.... But he waxes cannier every year."

Chapter XXIV. July 1883-November 1883, The Palazzone

108. Anecdotes of Burton.

In 1883 the Burtons removed from their eyrie near the Railway Station and took up their abode in a palazzone [378]--"the Palazzo Gosleth"--situated in a large garden, on the wooded promontory that divides the city from the Bay of Muggia. It was one of the best houses in Trieste, and boasted an entrance so wide that one could have driven a carriage into the hall, a polished marble staircase and twenty large rooms commanding extensive and delightful views. The garden, however, was the princ.i.p.al amenity. Here, in fez and dressing-gown, Burton used to sit and write for hours with nothing to disturb him except the song of birds and the rustle of leaves. In the Palazzo Gosleth he spent the last eight years of his life, and wrote most of his later works.

Perhaps this is the best place to introduce a sheaf of miscellaneous unpublished anecdotes which have been drawn together from various sources. We are uncertain as to their dates, but all are authentic.

To the ladies Burton was generally charming, but sometimes he behaved execrably. Once when he was returning alone to Trieste, a lady past her prime, being destined for the same place, asked whether she might accompany him. Burton, who hated taking care of anyone, frowned and shook his head. "There can be no scandal, Captain Burton," pleaded the lady, "because I am old."

"Madame," replied Burton, "while fully appreciating your kindness, I must decline. Had you been young and good-looking I would have considered the matter."

109. Burton and Mrs. Disraeli.

But Burton could be agreeable enough even to plain ladies when he wished. In one of his books or pamphlets he had said "There is no difference except civilization between a very old woman and an ape."

Some time after its publication, when he was the guest of Mr. and Mrs.

Disraeli, Mrs. Disraeli, herself both elderly and very plain, laid a plan to disconcert him. She seated herself close to a low mirror, in the hopes that Burton would presently join her. He soon fell into the trap and was observed a few minutes later leaning over her and "doing the amiable."

"Captain Burton," said Mrs. Disraeli, with affected annoyance, and pointing to her reflection, "There must be an ape in the gla.s.s. Do you not see it?"

Burton instantly recalled the remark in his book, but without exhibiting the least disconcertion, he replied, "Yaas, yaas, Madam, quite plainly; I see myself."

It was altogether impossible for Burton to do anything or to be in anything without causing a commotion of some kind. Generally it was his own fault, but sometimes the Fates were to blame. Few scenes at that period could have been more disgraceful than those at the official receptions held in London by the Prime Minister. Far too many persons were invited and numbers behaved more like untutored Zulus than civilised human beings.

"Now darling," said Mrs. Burton to her husband, just before one of these functions, "You are to be amiable, remember, and not lose your temper."

Burton readily promised compliance, but that day, unfortunately, the crush on the staircase was particular disgraceful. Apparently Burton, his wife on arm, was pushed on to the train of a lady in front of him, but whatever he was doing the crush had rendered him helpless.

"Oh dear!" cried the lady, "this horrid man is choking me."

"It"s that blackguard of a Burton!" followed the lady"s husband.

Burton"s eyes flashed and his lips went livid, "I"ll have you out for this," he cried, "and if you won"t fight I"ll thrash you like a dog."

"That"s how you keep your promise," said Mrs. Burton to him, when they got home. "You don"t get half a dozen steps up the staircase before you have a row with someone." Then he burst out with his "pebble on ice"

laughter.

For Burton to overhear remarks uncomplimentary to himself was no uncommon occurrence, but he rarely troubled to notice them. Now and again, however, as the previous anecdote shows, he broke his rule. Once at a public gathering a lady said, loudly, to a companion, "There is that infamous Captain Burton, I should like to know that he was down with some lingering and incurable illness."

Burton turned round, and fixing his eyes upon her, said with gravity: "Madame, I have never in all my life done anything so wicked as to express so shocking a wish as that."

The next anecdote shows how dangerous Burton could be to those who offended him. When the Sultan of Zanzibar was paying a visit to England, Burton and the Rev. Percy Badger were singled out to act as interpreters. But Burton had quarrelled with Badger about something or other; so when they approached the Sultan, Burton began addressing him, not in Arabic, but in the Zanzibar patois. The Sultan, after some conversation, turned to Badger, who, poor man, not being conversant with the patois, could only stand still in the dunce"s cap which Burton, as it were, had clapped on him and look extremely foolish; while the bystanders nodded to each other and said, "Look at that fellow. He can"t say two words. He"s a fraud." Burton revelled in Badger"s discomfiture; but a little later the two men were on good terms again; and when Badger died he was, of course, Burton"s "late lamented friend."

Another of Burton"s aversions was "any old woman made up to look very young." "Good gracious," he said, one day to a painted lady of that category. "You haven"t changed since I saw you forty years ago. You"re like the British flag that has braved a thousand years of the battle and the breeze." But the lady heaped coals of fire on his head.

"Oh, Captain Burton," she cried, "how could you, with that musical--that lovely voice of yours--make such very unpleasant remarks."

110. "I am an Old English Catholic."