Among The Rest, That Of A Famous
_Belle_, Whose Gallant Worshippers Had Cut Her Name Over All Its Broad
Trunk, Though They May Have Failed To Cut Their Own On The Plastic And
India-Rubber Tablet Of The Fair One's Heart.
This carving on the
fig-tree is the sum of all that Europeans have done in Morocco during
several ages.
We rather adopt Moorish habits, and descend to their
animal gratifications than inculcate our own, or the intellectual
pleasures of Christian nations. European females brought up in this
country, few excepted, adopt with gusto the lascivious dances of the
Mooresses; and if this may be said of them, what may we not think of the
male class, who frequently throw off all restraint in the indulgence of
their passions?
While reposing under the umbrageous shade of the Argan tree, a Moor
related to us wondrous sprite and elfin tales of the forests of of these
wilds. At one period, the Argan woods were full of enchantresses, who
prevented good Mussulmen from saying their prayers, by dancing before
them in all their natural charms, to the sounds of melodious and
voluptuous music; and if a poor son of the Prophet, perchance, passed
this way at the stated times of prayer, he found it impossible to attend
to his devotions, being pestered to death by these naughty houries.
On another occasion, when it was high summer and the sun burnt every
leaf of the black Argan foliage to a yellow red, and whilst the arid
earth opened her mouth in horrid gaps, crystal springs of water were
seen to bubble forth from the bowels of the earth, and run in rills
among _parterres_ of roses and jessamines.
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