The Man Turned Round - An Old, Venerable, Handsome Face, With
Awfully Sad Eyes, And A Beard Long And Quite Grey.
He did not make
the least complaint, but slunk out of the way, piteously shaking
his shoulder.
The sight of that indignity gave me a sickening
feeling of disgust. I shouted out to the cursed lackey to hold his
hand, and forbade him ever in my presence to strike old or young
more; but everybody is doing it. The whip is in everybody's hands:
the Pasha's running footman, as he goes bustling through the
bazaar; the doctor's attendant, as he soberly threads the crowd on
his mare; the negro slave, who is riding by himself, the most
insolent of all, strikes and slashes about without mercy, and you
never hear a single complaint.
How to describe the beauty of the streets to you! - the fantastic
splendour; the variety of the houses, and archways, and hanging
roofs, and balconies, and porches; the delightful accidents of
light and shade which chequer them: the noise, the bustle, the
brilliancy of the crowd; the interminable vast bazaars with their
barbaric splendour. There is a fortune to be made for painters in
Cairo, and materials for a whole Academy of them. I never saw such
a variety of architecture, of life, of picturesqueness, of
brilliant colour, and light and shade. There is a picture in every
street, and at every bazaar stall. Some of these our celebrated
water-colour painter, Mr. Lewis, has produced with admirable truth
and exceeding minuteness and beauty; but there is room for a
hundred to follow him; and should any artist (by some rare
occurrence) read this, who has leisure, and wants to break new
ground, let him take heart, and try a winter in Cairo, where there
is the finest climate and the best subjects for his pencil.
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