When all the bridal paraphernalia had been exhibited, the mother of the bride entered the room, carrying in one hand a fillagreed silver essence bottle, and in the other a censer of the same material, in which were burning aloes, myrrh, and perfumed woods. Making the tour of the apartment, she flung the perfume over each individual, varying her address according to the circumstances of the guests. To the unmarried she accompanied the action by saying, “May your own bridal follow!”—while to the matrons of the party she said, “May you also see the bridal of your children!”
When the old lady had withdrawn, all the more youthful of the visitors formed a group in the center of the floor. One laughing girl held a pair of diminutive scales; and another was laden with the glittering skeins of flat gold thread, of which were to be woven the singular head-dress to which I have already made allusion. The gallantry of the bridegroom had induced him to send forty drachms of this expensive gewgaw to his fair mistress, instead of ten; the largest quantity that the laws of the Greek Church allow to be worn; and the first care of the party was, consequently, to separate the skeins, and to weigh out the portion destined for the bride. When this had been accomplished, a score of us were employed at once. The threads were drawn out singly, in lengths of about three yards, and were then woven together at the end into a sort of coronet, whence they fell in a golden shower to the floor.
When this pretty and amusing occupation was over, we took our leave, each embracing the bride in turn, who still retained her place upon the sofa; and every individual, as she passed the bridal gear, flinging over it a handful of small silver coin.
I was summoned on the morrow at an early hour; for all the religious ceremonies of the Greeks are performed at most unseasonable times. Even their Sunday mass, when the poorer portions of the population, after having toiled throughout the previous six days, might be excused a little sluggishness, commences at daybreak; and no one who has spent four months in a Greek village, as we did, can have failed to be awakened at dawn by the rattling together of the two cedar sticks, which are the substitute for a bell; followed by the frightful drawl of the inferior priest, who traverses the streets, and utters a second invitation to prayer, half growl and half shriek; infinitely more calculated to frighten away the pious from his vicinity, than to induce them to seek it.