The Book of Delight, and Other Papers | Page 6

from Solomon's
hands, returns home, and passes the rest of his days in peace.

The legend, no doubt Oriental in origin, enjoyed popularity in the
Middle Ages largely because it became the frame into which could be
placed collections of proverbial lore. Hence, as happened also with the
legend of the Queen of Sheba and her riddles, the versions vary
considerably as to the actual content of the questions and answers
bandied between Solomon and Marcolf. In the German and English
versions, the proverbs and wisdom are largely Teutonic; in Zabara they
are Oriental, and, in particular, Arabic. Again, Marcolf in the French
version of Mauclerc is much more completely the reviler of woman.
Mauclerc wrote almost contemporaneously with Zabara (about
1216-1220, according to Kemble). But, on the other hand, Mauclerc
has no story, and his Marcolf is a punning clown rather than a cunning
sage. Marcolf, who is Solomon's brother in a German version, has no
trust in a woman even when dead. So, in another version, Marcolf is at
once supernaturally cunning, and extremely skeptical as to the morality
and constancy of woman. But it is unnecessary to enter into the
problem more closely. Suffice it to have established that in Zabara's
"Book of Delight" we have a hitherto unsuspected adaptation of the
Solomon-Marcolf legend. Zabara handles the legend with rare
originality, and even ventures to cast himself for the title rôle in place
of the wisest of kings.
In the summary of the book which follows, the rhymed prose of the
original Hebrew is reproduced only in one case. This form of poetry is
unsuited to the English language. What may have a strikingly pleasing
effect in Oriental speech, becomes, in English, indistinguishable from
doggerel. I have not translated at full length, but I have endeavored to
render Zabara accurately, without introducing thoughts foreign to him.
I have not thought it necessary to give elaborate parallels to Zabara's
stories, nor to compare minutely the various details of the Marcolf
legend with Zabara's poem. On the whole, it may be said that the
parallel is general rather than specific. I am greatly mistaken, however,
if the collection of stories that follows does not prove of considerable
interest to those engaged in the tracking of fables to their native lairs.
Here, in Zabara, we have an earlier instance than was previously known
in Europe, of an intertwined series of fables and witticisms, partly

Indian, partly Greek, partly Semitic, in origin, welded together by the
Hebrew poet by means of a framework. The use of the framework by a
writer in Europe in the year 1200 is itself noteworthy. And when it is
remembered what the framework is, it becomes obvious that the "Book
of Delight" occupies a unique position in medieval literature.
THE GIANT GUEST
Once on a night, I, Joseph, lay upon my bed; sleep was sweet upon me,
my one return for all my toil. Things there are which weary the soul
and rest the body, others that weary the body and rest the soul, but
sleep brings calm to the body and the soul at once.... While I slept, I
dreamt; and a gigantic but manlike figure appeared before me, rousing
me from my slumber. "Arise, thou sleeper, rouse thyself and see the
wine while it is red; come, sit thee down and eat of what I provide." It
was dawn when I hastily rose, and I saw before me wine, bread, and
viands; and in the man's hand was a lighted lamp, which cast a glare
into every corner. I said, "What are these, my master?" "My wine, my
bread, my viands; come, eat and drink with me, for I love thee as one of
my mother's sons." And I thanked him, but protested: "I cannot eat or
drink till I have prayed to the Orderer of all my ways; for Moses, the
choice of the prophets, and the head of those called, hath ordained, 'Eat
not with the blood'; therefore no son of Israel will eat until he prays for
his soul, for the blood is the soul...."
Then said he, "Pray, if such be thy wish"; and I bathed my hands and
face, and prayed. Then I ate of all that was before me, for my soul
loved him.... Wine I would not drink, though he pressed me sore.
"Wine," I said, "blindeth the eyes, robbeth the old of wisdom and the
body of strength, it revealeth the secrets of friends, and raiseth
dissension between brothers." The man's anger was roused. "Why
blasphemest thou against wine, and bearest false witness against it?
Wine bringeth joy; sorrow and sighing fly before it. It strengtheneth the
body, maketh the heart generous, prolongeth pleasure, and deferreth
age; faces it maketh shine, and the senses it maketh bright."
"Agreed,