On rowing nearer, I perceived that both the mirth and the alarm had been
caused by the efforts of some playful girls to reach a hedge of jasmin
which grew near the water, and in bending towards which they had nearly
fallen into the stream. Hastening to proffer my assistance, I soon
recognised the voice of one of my fair Alexandrian friends, and, springing
on the bank, was surrounded by the whole group, who insisted on my joining
their party in the pavilion, and flinging the tendrils of jasmin, which
they had just plucked, around me, led me, no unwilling captive, to the
banquet‐room.
I found here an assemblage of the very flower of Alexandrian society. The
unexpectedness of the meeting gave it an additional zest on both sides;
and seldom had I felt more enlivened myself, or contributed more
successfully to circulate life among others.
Among the company were some Greek women, who, according to the fashion of
their country, wore veils; but, as usual, rather to set off than conceal
their beauty, some gleams of which were continually escaping from under
the cloud. There was, however, one female, who particularly attracted my
attention, on whose head was a chaplet of dark‐coloured flowers, and who
sat veiled and silent during the whole of the banquet. She took no share,
I observed, in what was passing around: the viands and the wine went by
her untouched, nor did a word that was spoken seem addressed to her ear.
This abstraction from a scene so sparkling with gaiety, though apparently
unnoticed by any one but myself, struck me as mysterious and strange. I
inquired of my fair neighbour the cause of it, but she looked grave and
was silent.
In the mean time, the lyre and the cup went round; and a young maid from
Athens, as if inspired by the presence of her countryman, took her lute,
and sung to it some of the songs of Greece, with a feeling that bore me
back to the banks of the Ilissus, and, even in the bosom of present
pleasure, drew a sigh from my heart for that which had passed away. It was
daybreak ere our delighted party rose, and unwillingly re‐embarked to
return to the city.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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