Sensuality in Egyptian Dance by Joana Saahirah (another “against the current” video)

Oh, oh, she did it again. Another “against the current” video!

Sometimes, I wonder how I can get away with it – doing and saying exactly what I believe in even if that goes totally, and I mean TOTALLY, against the current.

You gotta own your own truth, baby!

Enjoy this NEW video about Sensuality in Egyptian Dance – what it means, the prejudices and misconceptions behind it, and why it´s so important to have it in your dance. And life.

Feel welcome to watch, like, and share the video with your peeps ❤

POLEMIC – that old devil called Sexuality!

Sexuality in Egyptian Dance Online WorkshopI never thought Sexuality was such a big tabu in our (Western) society!
Once I launched my NEW Online Workshop – Sexuality in Egyptian Dance -, I started receiving an incredible amount of sexual proposals from strange men. I realized, in total disbelief, their vision of sexuality is still primary, childish and incredibly twisted.
Now, more than ever, the TABU – or Elephant in the Room – must be addressed. With intelligence, naturality & vision.

In Egyptian Dance as in Life.

Isis Eye Joana Saahirah SchoolFollow the link for more information on our rEVOLUTIONARY

“Sexuality in Egyptian Dance” Online Training (live & recorded classes):

Sexuality in Egyptian Dance Revolution

ADULT´S CONTENT: Sexuality in Egyptian Dance by Joana Saahirah´s Online Dance School

Sexuality in Egyptian Dance Online Workshop
Sexuality in Egyptian Dance by Joana Saahirah´s Online Dance School.
Sexuality in Egyptian Dance – Unleashing your inner Lilith
Online Workshop (live & recorded classes)
Awaken your fierce, sensual, free self through Egyptian Dance!
​Sexuality, and sensual pleasure in your dance (and life), is a tabu nobody dares touching. Until now.
Have you ever felt you wanted, but couldn´t, enjoy the physical pleasure dance, and your interaction with other people, can provide?
Have you ever felt confused about what´s appropriate & what´s not in the way you move, & feel, while you dance?
Have you ever felt the conflict between what your body wants and what you think others expect from you?
Have you ever felt like you weren´t living your Dance, and Life, to its full potential?
Are you done with playing the Good Girl Role, the one who provides pleasure to others but denies it to herself?
If so, and I invite you to take an active role in this rEVOLUTION!
If so, this Online Workshop, created by Joana Saahirah exclusively for our school, is for YOU.
Joana Saahirah Online Dance School Essence.jpg
Welcome to Joana Saahirah´s Online Dance School, a place where your Uniquess is celebrated. Authentic Egyptian Dance, Self-Discovery & Empowerment.
Follow the link for a fabulous trip inside our Wonder*land:
Isis Eye Joana Saahirah School

Sexuality in Egyptian Dance – The Elephant in the Room

The Elephant in the RoomSexuality (Physical Pleasure) in Egyptian Dance, as in Life, is a huge Elephant in the Room, one of the most misunderstood, distorted & essential parts of human experience. 
Throughout my career, in Egypt and around the World, I´ve met thousands of dancers who were disconnected from that side of their existence or connected to it in a destructive, critical, guilty manner. As a consequence, they see their self-expression, vitality, power to accomplish their dreams or do/move according to what they feel extremely hard if not impossible. 
Such negative relationship with their most primal selves affects their health and expansion potential. It makes their life, and dance, smaller.
Authentic Egyptian Dance proposes a reeducation of the way we see ourselves – including our physical bodies – and human experience. 
Know more about the Elephant in the Room by watching these 2 videos I´ve selected for you. I hope you find inspiration in them. 
💓Video Note “Sexuality in Egyptian Dance”:
💓Message from The Womb “”Physical Pleasure (let´s get it on!):
Mandala Joana Saahirah Online Dance School
Feel welcome to check our (fabulous!) July/August Class Schedule at 
Joana Saahirah´s Online Dance School: 

Beware: Adult cOntent!

tumblr_ngvsdup6GP1u4jbqyo1_500.gif” I won´t ask permission to be more graphic; I´ll just go for it. Follow me, if you can: a typical baladi progression – which Egyptian musicians call “awadi” – starts with an intimate dialogue between the dancer and the accordionist.

Imagine a man and a woman, surrounded by the smoke of “shishas” (water pipes), sitting at an “akhwa baladi” (typical Egyptian coffeeshop), cheek to cheek, having a deep conversation.They´re in love and they don´t care about what others may think of them.(…) The love story is interrupted by a man who shows up unannounced. He´s tall, with kind, strong hands exhaling testosterone. He breaks into the conversation; carefully, at first. With stuble words, here and there.He pokes the lovers, teases them, incites them to act upon their romance. Some say he´s the devil, the one who convinces you to eat that extra slice of pizza or to go the extra mile, but I believe he´s just who he is. His presence in the conversation is felt with increasing strength, energy, adrenaline and speed. And a little bit of fright, perhaps.

Let me remind you: the lovers of this story are the dancer and the accordionist; the man who has just shown up is the “taabal”, the main percussion player of an Egyptian orchestra. Now we have a three way conversation. The third part, the “taabal”, adds to the love story: he´s a sort of condescending priest, like the one who marries Romeu and Juliet in Shakespeare´s play. Soon enough, we´ll have a wedding party with other guests, the “tabla” family members, arriving to the coffeeshop. They represent the other percussive elements – duf, riq, mazhar, tar, maybe the toura (large sagats, metal disks) – found in Egyptian traditional music.(…) Even the owner of the establishment gets into the party mood, shaking his hips to the beat, throwing away his apron and the house rules.

What started as an intimate dialoge, quiet, low-key and nostalgic, ends in the happiest party with the lovers – dancer and accordion – at the center.The way the “awadi” progresses – grows – is similar to this party or the way human beings make love, ideally speaking.

First, there´s the foreplay – the velvety words, the kisses, the hugging and tugging and smuggling.Then comes penetration, per se, the deepest part of the love making trip. Lovers become One – the dancer and the accordion united by a single light thread.Things heat up – big time. An ascending curve starts to build inside the love makers; a crescendo of physical excitement, passion and thirst for the Divine is produced; honey, milk and holy water spring from their naked bodies; the rollercoaster is on and it cannot be stopped. Final stop of the Journey: the Orgasm. The sky and the earth are reunited, tranquility is restored. This is BALADI. This is LIFE.

If you´re too prude – or afraid – to face it, you may not be invited into this world; the fruits of baladi may not be available for you to pick.”


“The Secrets of Egypt – Dance, Life & Beyond” by Joana Saahirah – 2nd edition, revised & updated.




How to get your own copy of “The Secrets of Egypt – Dance, Life & Beyond”:

Magic Mike XXL (female sexuality celebration)

images (1)Every time I return from a work trip, I run to the movies. It´s like a passage, a filter, a space to relax and re-center. Nothing like a good cinema session – darkness, popcorn, empty head – to land and recover focus.

I did it again. I´ve returned from China (grateful for another marvellous work trip) and could think of nothing else except my beloved dark room where no agenda, responsibilities, computer or phone can enter. This time around, Magic Mike XXL was my (improbable?) choice.

As soon as I saw a group of hysterical teenagers, holding their cokes, their nachos with sauce and their popcorn, yelling in their annoying high pitch tone, I thought any perspective of a relaxing time was gone. I was right during the first 30 minutes of the movie. Then Channing Tatum – what a DANCER! – did his first strip-tease routine and everything changed: the silence in the cinema was so thick you could listen flies batting their wings.

I´ll be short and direct to the point: OMG! 

Objective comment: Channing Tatum CAN D-A-N-C-E. Holly f…..k. Sorry, ladies, but nothing less than holly f…k will do.

The man has got the moves – all the moves. Although my idea of male strip was terrible – I´d asked an ex-boyfriend to take me, years ago, to a strip-tease club and I´d died of boredom and disappointment back then – , this movie reversed my opinion. Male – and maybe female – strip-tease can be AMAZING. I don´t mean the sleazy, terrible dance attempt mixed with 80s aerobics cliché moves we often associate with it but a brand new sort of strip-tease where DANCE is used in its most sensual, sexual and fabulous way.

Ai, ai, ai. Bring me a bucket of cold water, please!

The choreographies in the movie are fabulous and, make no mistake, you have to be a professional dancer to dig into something like that. No common stripper could ever do THAT. Then they add the sexy, sexual, sensual, sensorial, physical, soulful vibe to it and we have a recipe for Heaven.

Those girls, my loud companions in the cinema room, initially loud and hectic, became stunned, overwhelmed and silently disturbed as soon as Channing Tatum exploded on that screen. Forget about the screams, the giggling, the “I don´t know if I can handle this” nervous breakdown. They (we) were instantly dead.

As far as I´m concerned, I said “holly shit” about 100 times, at least. I wanted to laugh, you see? I couldn´t. I think I also wanted to cry, at some point. I couldn´t. My mind, my otherwise discreet hormones and the rest of my body were taken on the ride of a life time. And this is me, lucky enough to have had relationships with men who happened to be good, generous, attentive lovers. Now imagine women who had never experienced it. Poor ladies…I bet there were some strokes – loads of them – in that cinema room.

Multiply Outch! by 1000 and you´ll have a fair description of the movie.

Subjective comment: although we can easily label this movie as a chick movie (it is and it is not) with nothing more than incredibly sexy and skilled guys teasing our eternally famished desire mechanisms, the truth is this movie is way more interesting than that. It´s about desire and sexuality – FEMALE desire and sexuality. The desire that have been shamed and denied, bluntly or indirectly, for so

Men enjoy love and sex, not necessarily together. They see themselves as sexual beings and have no problem on assuming it. Women who assume their sexuality – or their joy in it – are usually labelled as loose and cheap, to say the least. A man who enjoys his sexuality, for the sake of it, is a stud. A woman who does the same is a whore at whom men and women, especially women, will point their accusing finger.

The great thing about the movie is the ability to bring back to the table the old tabu of women sexuality. Not women´s love life. Leave love out of this equation. When sex and love come together, it´s the perfect combination. I think we all agree on that – women and men alike. But sex for the sex is amazing, with or without love. Less than ideal, no doubt. But damn amazing. Men will agree, of course. Women will twist their noses and probably deny it. Of course. 

Add the MALE OBJECTIFICATION to this recipe, will you?

Women as sexual objects that exist to provide pleasure to men have always been visible, celebrated and emulated. What about the opposite? Men as sexual objects that provide pleasure to women? What about them? Why is it all right for men to be the target of pleasure and not right for women? Why a female sexual object is socially accepted and a male is not?

I´m not saying men – or women – should be used as sexual objects. I don´t need to say it because they are, independently of my defense or attack. Agreeing or disagreeing that a part of us sees the other sex as an object, at certain times, in one way or another, doesn´t change the facts. Only someone who´s lying (or in denial) can honestly say she/he never sees the other as a sexual object.

Men have lust for women. Women have lust for men. Men can may go crazy with a pair of gorgeous legs, just as women may go crazy with a gorgeous chest or a pair of strong arms. It´s natural. It´s nature. Deal with it. We can run but we cannot hide.

Human beings are complex and have many sides. They´re animals and they´re god(desses) as well. Our sexual selves is an undeniable part of our Being (long discussion associated with Oriental Dance and the reason why it´s considered shameful until today). That´s how the species propagate. How we taste life, feel exhilaration, fall in lust – maybe love; maybe love & lust.

I adored the fact that the movie celebrates sexuality in such a good humored, uncomplicated and, yes, oh yes!!!, sexy manner. The fact that female sexuality is addressed as natural and beautiful, instead of a reason to burn us all in hell. The fact that men are there, for a change, pleasing women, fulfilling their phantasies and asking them:

“what do you want?”

Call me crazy but, for me, this is a feminist movie. Amazing male dance/strip-tease scenes (don´t try this at home kind of scenes). A luxurious pleasure trip exclusively handcrafted for women. A celebration of female unleashed, un-shamed, untamed (finally!) sexuality.

Oh, man. I´m still trembling.


Oriental Dance: the (damned?) Orgasm!

11227520_1615078812067926_7322434701552796917_nHave you ever seen a dog obsessed with a delicious, juicy bone? If so, you know exactly how I look in relation to Mystery. Although I´ve learnt, so far, that most things in life are not meant to be rationally understood – perhaps only experienced, felt, integrated through the heart – this blessed curiosity keeps me swimming against the tide, trying to dismantle the unsolvable mysteries of this often absurd & fascinating life.

One of those bones I keep bitting, despite exhaustion and the loneliness of the path, is the reason why Oriental Dance – commonly known as bellydance – has been, century after century, considered a sexually provocative, decadent, dangerous thing. Yes, thing. Not art. The ones who consider it and do it as an art form are a tiny, miniscule, almost invisible minority. The rest does “bellydance-twist your hips till you drop-exotic acrobatics-gymnastic”. Not a pretty reality – it´s still the reality we have to deal with.

11350415_1605015999740874_1041024747964203298_n“What if we saw our sexual energy as a form of magic, and what if we used this magic to bless and change the world?”

~Ev`Yan Whitney | Art by Suren Voskanyan (Via Katie Holland)

Picture this:  I´m sitting at a “Harry Potter” style dining room in one of the oldest and best colleges in the world. There´s a huge wooden table where bright minds of different generations (back to 1352, when the college was founded) have been sitting, eating their food with silver forks and knives, discussing high matters. Paintings of patrons and other important figures related to the institution are hanging from the walls, imponent shades of authority staring at us with enigmatic expressions, leaving the impression of being simultaneously present and absent.

I´m there to study and, for the first time in 13 years of career, get away from my reality – although beloved, challenging and exhausting. I´m also in the place of the student, not the teacher – a position I take as a privilege. For once, I´ll be the one absorving all the brilliant things others have to teach me. Pure joy!

The campus internal tabloids yell and rejoice: ” a famous bellydancer has arrived to the convent!”

 The world is instantly set on fire.

There´s no stage over there or so I thought. Although I don´t mention my work on costumary introductions between teachers and students, someone got hold of who I am and spread the rumor throughout the campus and what started as a little flame, suddenly becomes an epic forest fire: impeccable English gentlemen lose their composure; the faces of elegant and posh English ladies become red – as if they got drunk on cheap wine – and everybody, even the stones, whispers a disturbing question:

-Is she REALLY a bellydancer?

No matter how intelligent, well educated, travelled and open minded people seem to be; no matter how civilized (a relative term), (relatively) free and modern they may be, a professional Oriental Dancer – or the so called bellydancer – is always a disturbing elephant in the room. Hormones go crazy; men start to get the fever while women get hysterical for no apparent reason; civilized folks return to their ancestors´caves in a second.

-What´s the big deal? Why the noise, the fear, the excessive excitement and the disturbance?! This is just DANCE! – I tell them but, make no mistake, no one listen to me. I´m the crazy girl, lost at sea, yelling into the big ocean with no one in sight, not even a shark.

Someone – unidentified gentleman or lady – suggested I´d perform at the college. Me, at the “Harry Potter” dinning room, performing for those fascinating college folks. Me, body and soul, dancing for an intellectual audience that will – no doubt – suffer a collective stroke at the sight and feeling of genuine “raks sharki”. Me, the responsible for the ruin of a classic, high standard, cool and well behaved Summer. Me, The Dancer, the eternal sinner.

NO. I came here to study, not to work. – I answered, aware that I´d keep receiving stubborn requests, kind reminders of people´s curiosity, prejudice and eagerness to take a walk in the wild side. I also knew that, from the moment my profession was revealed, I´d have to deal with those looks only a professional Oriental Dancer ever gets – the vamp; men eater, Lilith, damned woman looks.

Bye, bye, low profile! Bye, bye, luxury of being treated like a “normal person”.

For the following weeks, the reactions towards that shocking revelation kept unfolding in front of my (ever astonished) eyes: people got nervous around me; they tried to know more, get a glimpse of a movement:

– Ah! You moved your hip in a strange way. How did you do that; can you repeat it?

-Nah. Not worth repeating it –  I was just walking.


From that moment on, everybody chases a hint of delightful and dangerous hell, some sign of the devil in the shape of a woman. Curiosity was killing them as much as boredom was killing me.

I never got the point. For me, Egyptian Oriental Dance is as natural as breathing, a pure reflection of Life (and Life includes all sorts of wonderful and terrible things). Life includes the mind, the heart and the soul; it also includes the physical, the sensual & the sexual without which no Creation is possible.

Why does this dance keep disturbing men and women alike? Is it its absolute freedom (a madness with method/structure)? Is it the inhaling/exhaling of pleasure found in every movement? Is it the expression of a S10172647_425385637636831_3435177297531018136_nacred Sexuality, something that pours from our skin when we dance simply because we are – the crime of crimes! – enjoying ourselves on every dimension (including the sexual). What is it, exactly?

Egypt and every “third world” country seem to have excuses: they´re deeply repressed countries with the heavy hand of pseudo-religion over their heads. In these countries the sight of an ankle can provoke a natural disaster. Fair enough. What about the “first world”? What´s its excuse for keeping Oriental Dance under high moral prosecution?

After years of career and life in Egypt; after travelling the world, doing what I love, and observing a wide range of dancers and audiences, I got to this conclusion:

Egyptian Oriental Dance is disturbing for many reasons (some of them, no doubt, connected with religion, body issues, repression, cultural codes and politics). Above all these reasons, comes the Big Devil: this dance is a celebration of our Human/Divine Sexual Energy; a non apologetic orgasm; a celebration we haven´t yet totally understood. Our limited/narrow notions of sexuality and the fake morality attached to it blind us; it stops us from seeing and understanding further. Our general disconnection from our bodies – that we use as machines and not an integral part of our Being – also adds chaos to the blindness.

Egyptian Oriental Dance is an ORGASMIC expression that unites body, mind, heart and soul. But its orgasm is not small, located in a specific part of our body or under any kind of prison: it´s free, total, holistic, personal & universal at the same time. Why haven´t I noticed it earlier? Perhaps because sexuality is – in my opinion – the root, literally and metaphorically, for everything in life.

If we dig deeper, we realize sexuality (and yes, that amazing moment we call Orgasm) is a direct link to our Spiritual dimension. Nothing new over here: merely forgotten. Every discipline connected with Tantra and Yoga have throughly explored the golden bridge between the Sexual and the Spiritual. The same bridge can be experienced – and observed with costumary disturbance – in the Oriental Dance practice.

The pleasure we get from smelling a flower is part of our sexuality; eating delicious food is part of our sexuality; the creative impulse (may that be making a baby or giving birth to a work of art) is part of our sexuality; kissing someone we love and ravelling in the touch of his/her skin is part of our sexuality; the joy we get from a gorgeous sunset is part of our sexuality. And the list goes on forever. In other, rather logical, words:

There´s no life without sexuality. If Oriental Dance is Life, then Oriental Dance is sexual. 

It took me a while to get it. We don´t feel what´s integrated in us. It takes effort and continuous search to find a ghost we never knew existed. I´m getting there and, I confess, smiling at the childishness of it all. Afraid of pleasure; scared of our own joy; terrified by our own freedom. Damn, humans like to complicate!

Meanwhile, the love and respect I´ve always had for this dance grows. What a truly magical and, YES!, revolutionary dance this is. The world is starting to get it, slowly (too slowly, if you ask me) but, I hope, surely.

P.S: More on this subject will be found on the 2nd updated edition of my book “The Secrets of Egypt – Dance, Life & Beyond”.


I can´t help falling in lust with you (St. Petersburg)*


Egyptian Dance legend Samia Gamal and her apples*

I believe in fairies. I don´t believe in St. Claus (sorry, kids!).

I believe in magic. I don´t believe in bullshit.

I am a romantic. I am not stupid. ´Wonder: why so many people keep thinking these two are synonimous?

I believe in the urgency of love in our lives. I also believe in sex and the balance (hormonal, emotional, psychological, many etcs on the equation) it brings. I know we´re humans; we´re also animals, no matter how much we try to deny it.

I believe women and men are searching for that partner that makes them feel life is ALIVE (I know: it sounds like a pleonasm; it probably is and I mean it: life can feel dead or alive). I also believe we can be better by ourselves than with the wrong person by our side. Solitude doesn´t mean, necessarily, loneliness.

I believe we´re all sexual beings – aside from many things. I don´t believe women are only searching for love and men, those beasts!, are only searching for sex. Life – Humanity – is more complex than that.

This is probably how I fell in lust – damn it: I meant love – with a musician at the Hermitage theatre in the gorgeous (magical) city of St. Petersburg, Russia. I fell in lust (ups: I did it again!) love with a perfect stranger in a simple, straightforward, womanly(some of you will question it), you Tarzan & me Jane manner:

There I was, a good girl and a good student, ready to educate myself a little further, to watch a Classical Ballet show at the famous Hermitage theatre and to behave like a lady. Everything looks so beautiful, civilized, cultured, sophisticated and polite. Above all, polite. The Hermitage orchestra started to arrive, each instrument neatly located in its own place, handshakes and bows to the maestro, the whole protocol treated like an unshakeable English 5 o´clock tea. Then he arrived. He. This word would be enough to make me fly into lands women are rarely allowed to visit.13%20things%20egyptians%20get%20wrong%20about%20sex%20(9)

You gotta give me some credit here: I´ve spent 8 years of my life in Egypt, working as a star (whatever that means) dancer, literally running away from men in ways Sherlock Holmes and James Bond would have never imagined. I could write an whole book on the art of running away from men – that´s how much practice and expertise I´ve gathered.

Staying away from troubles – aka egyptian/arab men – was an essential part of my survival kit and that has – no doubt – created a weird, difficult to understand thirst/fear in relation to the male presence. Sure: I was bathed in testosterone (managing and working with 12 musicians on a daily basis) and I had my relationships, all of them a bitter sweet reminder of the mentality/cultural bridges we can NOT cross without losing our own identity/dignity.

Still…the pleasure of observing a gorgeous man without the fear of being sexually harassed for the rest of my days or ending up married within a week is something new: a candy so sweet, perhaps so dangerous that only St. Petersburg could have offered it to me. Why St. Petersburg? Why that fancy, chic, uber-civilized theatre in the midst of the highest cultural environment? Why? I guess life – or God, if you wish – has a funky sense of humour. I can appreciate the irony, laugh at it and even love it.


Back to the lust love bird. My 5 o´clock tea cup fell on the ground and broke into 1001 pieces (1001 – not more, not less): my civility turned into a Paleolithic female rage: vagina dentata all over again (although with a modern twist): my focus on the culture, the dance, the music suddenly became absolete: who cares?

The lights went out; the ballet show started; a particular violin solist made me fall in love (or lust? I´m lost…I don´t know it anymore) with his performance but all I could think of, very unromantically so, was how much I wanted to STOP: STOP: STOP the whole thing and point my finger towards that man, the landscape that caused the hormonal party inside my body, that piece of desire who kept staring at me during the whole show, The Flame, a gorgeous sight of the male species:


-Hey, you! Come with me. N-O-W.

To have a genuine glimpse of the scene, you have to imagine that fancy theatre suspended in a frozen moment of a pretty unexpected life event: ballet dancers holding their legs up in the air, dumbfounded, muscles aching from the unusual effort; musicians are floating, trying to catch their instruments which are also dancing in the air, naturally out of control; the audience has turned to stone, perfectly immobile, waiting in a limbo between the past and the future. Darkness covers the theatre except for two follow spots – one over me and another over my man.

We leave the theatre, walking (no: running!) – in a sweet distress – towards a beautiful, old, magnificent house of St. Petersburg downtown.

What would come next is a space that remains open – use your imagination and forget that outdated lala land version of the story: she was searching for love and he was searching for sex. Yeah, right!

-Can I know your name? – He asked.

-For what?

Err...ok…do you want to know my name?

-I have no interest in your name.

-Where are we going?

-To heaven.


The End*

1653360_759716677432879_4696593700319957174_nP.S. If you´re wondering how this real story ended, remind yourself of a quite upsetting fact: I´m such a catholic! Still…

(Gentle)men: deal breakers

1460128_557575017645818_655402549_nGentle)men: here are two things that I beg of you – in the name of womankind, I guess...- not to do for the sake of human understanding and peace.

1. Guys – male creatures who cannot be called men – using their children (or even worse: imaginary children) to “try*” to pick you up: BIZARRE, psychopath material. Seriously: DON´T. It´s not sexy, cute, interesting or anything remotely positive – it´s plain sick and it´s a one way ticket to Frankenstein land.

2. Leaving this kind of messages in women´s Facebook inboxes:

From: Mohamed Khairy
how are you ?
i like you much
and i want talk with you
please send me add if you want.”

My doubts about our evolution as human beings are strongly challenged when I receive one of these “Me, Tarzan; you, Jane” messages. Are you coming from the jungle, just recently arrived to the city – are you?! It´s bizarre and it makes me wonder what kind of woman falls for this Paleolithic approach (it worries me, in fact, that there are women who may fall for this).

Come on, you can do (be) better than that. I know you can.


“For he´s a jolly good fellow; for he´s a jolly good fellow; for he´s a jolly good fellow and nobody can deny.”