Amongst them I made out the mother of the bride, dressed in shabby black. She had a fine worn face, with features that showed more mind than the rest of the crowd, and dark eyes tear-stained in their hollowed sockets. The cheekbones were high, the nose short and straight, and the sad mouth drooped at the corners. It was the face of a woman who could think and suffer, and stood out amongst the comely crowd in the same way that her black draperies ‘told’ against their gay clothes. She reminded me of the Virgin in the Pietà of Francia in the National Gallery. At times she wept softly with eyes that seemed already burnt out with sorrow, drying her tears with a fold of her veil. I longed to know Arabic, that I might speak to her. Amongst foreigners whose language one does not know and having no mutual tongue for comprehension, one is as deaf and dumb, all power of observation and understanding centred in sight. So, I suppose, must a deaf mute pass through the world, striving to participate in the brotherhood of humanity, watching for a gleam here, a glance there, to unlock the perpetual riddle.
The women began to leave for the larger room where we thankfully followed. But there we were not much better off, as in a moment a feminine crowd closed in upon us in a frenzy of friendly curiosity. It was like stepping into a cageful of monkeys. They seized our arms, ran their hands over us, exclaiming and gesticulating, fingered our blouses, our ornaments, and trying to pull off our hats. It was only the arrival of the bridegroom that averted their attention. He was brought by another way into the room, still veiled, and then the bride was brought to him and amidst much laughter and shouting his head covering was removed. After this they were conducted to the door of another bedroom, stepping over the sill of which each tried to step on the other’s foot, the one who succeeds being supposed to have the predominance in their future married life. The door was shut on them, “et voilà tout” as a small Arab boy remarked to me, glad to air his slender French.
I was told later that when the bridegroom finds himself alone with his bride he lifts her veil and sees her face for the first time. He takes off her slippers and outer coat and then leaves her, and rejoins his men friends outside. If he has not been satisfied with his bride’s appearance it is still open to him to repudiate her, in which case she will return to her father’s house. Should he be pleased with her, however, the next day is given up to a banquet to all their friends, and he returns to his house where the married life of the young couple begins.