To
His Excellency Yacoub Artin Pasha,
Minister of Instruction, Etc. Etc. Etc. Cairo.
My Dear Pasha, During the last dozen years, since we first met at Cairo,you have done much for Egyptian folk-lore and you can do muchmore. This volume is inscribed to you with a double purpose;first it is intended as a public expression of gratitude for yourfriendly assistance; and, secondly, as a memento that the sampleswhich you have given us imply a promise of further gift. Withthis lively sense of favours to come I subscribe myself
Ever yours friend and fellow worker,
Richard F. Burton
London, July 12, 1886.
There dwelt once upon a time in the God-guarded city of Cairo acobbler who lived by patching old shoes.[FN#1] His name wasMa’aruf[FN#2] and he had a wife called Fatimah, whom the folk hadnicknamed “The Dung;”[FN#3] for that she was a whorish, worthlesswretch, scanty of shame and mickle of mischief. She ruled herspouse and abused him; and he feared her malice and dreaded hermisdoings; for that he was a sensible man but poor-conditioned.When he earned much, he spent it on her, and when he gainedlittle, she revenged herself on his body that night, leaving himno peace and making his night black as her book;[FN#4] for shewas even as of one like her saith the poet:—
How manifold nights have I passed with my wife * In the saddest
plight with all misery rife:
Would Heaven when first I went in to her * With a cup of cold
poison I’d ta’en her life.
One day she said to him, “O