burton--1001-nights--sample

the Badawi pronunciation. Yet I prefer “Shelebi” (a dandy) from the
Turkish Chelebi, to “Shalabi;” “Zebdani” (the Syrian village) to
“Zabdani,” and “Fes and Miknes” (by the figure Imálah) to “Fás and
Miknás,” our “Fez and Mequinez.”
With respect to proper names and untranslated Arabic words I have
rejected all system in favour of common sense. When a term is
incorporated in our tongue, I refuse to follow the purist and mortify
the reader by startling innovation. For instance, Aleppo, Cairo and
Bassorah are preferred to Halab, Kahirah and Al-Basrah; when a word
is half-naturalised, like Alcoran or Koran, Bashaw or Pasha, which the
French write Pacha; and Mahomet or Mohammed (for Muhammad),
the modern form is adopted because the more familiar. But I see no
advantage in retaining, simply because they are the mistakes of a past
generation, such words as “Roc” (for Rikh), Khalif (a pretentious blunder
for Kalífah and better written Caliph) and “genie” (= Jinn) a mere
Gallic corruption not so terrible, however, as “a Bedouin” (= Badawi).
As little too would I follow Mr. Lane in foisting upon the public such
Arabisms as “Khuff” (a riding boot), “Mikra’ah” (a palm-rod) and a
host of others for which we have good English equivalents. On the
other hand I would use, but use sparingly, certain Arabic exclamations,
as “Bismillah” (= in the name of Allah!) and “Inshallah” (= if Allah
please!), which have special applications and which have been made
familiar to English ears by the genius of Fraser and Morier.
I here end these desultory but necessary details to address the
reader in a few final words. He will not think lightly of my work when
I repeat to him that with the aid of my annotations supplementing
Lane’s, the student will readily and pleasantly learn more of the
Moslem’s manners and customs, laws and religion than is known to the
average Orientalist; and, if my labours induce him to attack the text of
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