GLIMPSES INTO THE FUTURE.
Halil Patrona was sitting on the balcony of the palace which the Sultan
and the favour of the people had bestowed upon him. The sun was about to
set. It sparkled on the watery mirror of the Golden Horn, hundreds and
hundreds of brightly gleaming flags and sails flapped and fluttered in
the evening breeze.
Gül-Bejáze was lying beside him on an ottoman, her beautiful head, with
a feeling of languid bliss, reposed on her husband's bosom, her long
eyelashes drooping, whilst with her swan-like arms she encircled his
neck. She dozes away now and then, but the warm throb-throb of the
strong heart which makes her husband's breast to rise and fall
continually arouses her again. Halil Patrona is reading in a big clasped
book beautifully written in the ornamental Talik script. Gül-Bejáze does
not know this writing; its signs are quite strange to her, but she
feasts her delighted eyes on the beautifully painted festoons and
lilies and the variegated birds with which the initial letters are
embellished, and scarce observes what a black shadow those pretty gaily
coloured, butterfly-like letters cast upon Halil's face.
"What is the book thou art reading?" inquired Gül-Bejáze.
"Fairy tales and magic sentences," replied Patrona.
"Is it there that thou readest all those nice stories which thou tellest
me every evening?"
"Yes, they are here."
"Tell me, I pray thee, what thou hast just been reading?"
"When thou art quite awake," said Halil, rapturously gazing at the fair
face of the girl who was sleeping in his arms--and he continued turning
over the leaves of the book.
And what then was in it? What did those brightly coloured letters
contain? What was the name of the book?
That book is the "Takimi Vekai."
Ah! ask not a Mussulman what the "Takimi Vekai" is, else wilt thou make
him sorrowful; neither mention it before a Mohammedan woman, else the
tears will gush from her eyes. The "Takimi Vekai" is "The Book of the
Sentences of the Future," which was written a century and a half ago by
Said Achmed-ibn Mustafa, and which has since been preserved in the
Muhamedije mosque, only those high in authority ever having the
opportunity of seeing it face to face.
Those golden letters embellished with splendid flowers contain dark
sayings. Let us listen:
"Takimi Vekai"--The Pages of the Future.
"On the eighth-and-twentieth day of the month Rubi-Estani, in the year
of the Hegira, 886,[3] I, Said Achmed-ibn Mustafa, Governor of Scutari
and scribe of the Palace, having accomplished the Abdestan[4] and
recited the Fateha[5] with hands raised heavenwards, ascended to the
tower of Ujuk Kule, from whence I could survey all Stambul, and there I
began to meditate.
"And lo! the Prophet appeared before me, and breathed upon my eyes and
ears in order that I might see and hear nothing but what he commanded me
to hear and see.
"And I wrote down those things which the Prophet said to me.
"The Giaours already see the tents of the foreign hosts pitched on the
Tsiragan piazza, already see the half-moon cast down, and the double
cross raised on the towers of the mosques, the khanzé[6] plundered, and
the faithful led forth to execution. In the Fanar quarters[7] they are
already assembling the people, and saying to one another: 'To-morrow!
to-morrow!'
"Yet Allah is the God who defends the Padishah of the Ottomans. Their
Odzhakjaiks[8] will scatter terror. Allah Akbar! God is mighty!
"And the captains of the galleys, and the rowers thereof, and the chief
of the gunners, and the corsairs of the swift ships will share with one
another the treasures and the spoils of the unbelievers.
"And the Padishah shall rule over thirteen nations.
"But lo! a dark cloud arises in the cold and distant North. A foe
appears more terrible and persistent than the Magyars, the Venetians, or
the Persians. He is still tender like the fledgelings of the hawks of
the Balkans, but soon, very soon, he will learn to spread his pinions.
Up, up, Silihdar Aga, the Sultan's Sword-bearer! Up, up, Rechenbtar Aga,
the Sultan's Stirrup-holder; up, up, and do your duty. And ye viziers,
assemble the reserves. Those men who come from the land where the pines
and firs raise their virgin branches towards Heaven, they long after the
warm climates where the olive, the lestisk, the terebinth, and the palm
lift their crowns towards Heaven. The fathers point out Stambul to their
sons, they point it out as the booty that will give them sustenance;
tender women lay their hands upon the sword to use it against the
Osmanli, and will fight like heroes. Yet the days of the Sons of the
Prophet will not yet come to an end; they will resist the enemy, and
stand fast like a Salamander in the midst of the burning embers.
"The years pass over the world, again the Giaours assemble in their
myriads and threaten vengeance. But the Divan answers them: 'Olmaz!'--it
cannot be. The Anatolian and the Rumelian lighthouses, at the entrance
of the Bosphorus, will signal from their watch-towers the approach of
the foreign war-ships.
"But this shall be much later, after three-and-twenty Padishahs have
ruled over the thirteen nations; then and not till then will the armies
of the Unbelievers assemble before Stambul. Woe, woe unto us! Eternally
invincible should the Osmanlis remain if they walked, with firm
footsteps, according to the commands of the Koran. But a time will come
when the old customs will fall into oblivion, when new ways will creep
in among Mussulmen like a rattlesnake crawling into a bed of roses.
Faith will no longer give strength against those men of ice, and they
will enter the nine-and-twenty gates of the seven-hilled city.
"Lo! this did the Prophet reveal to me in the season of El-Ashsör,
beginning at the time of sundown.
"Allah give his blessing to the rulers of this world."
Thus ran the message of the "Takimi Vekai."
Halil Patrona had read these lines over and over again until he knew
every letter of them by heart. They were continually in his thoughts, in
his dreams, and the eternally recurring tumult of these anxious bodings
allowed his soul no rest. What if it were possible to falsify this
prophecy! What if his strong hand could but stay the flying wheel of
Fate in mid career, hold it fast, and turn it in a different direction!
so that what was written in the Book of Thora before Sun and Moon were
ever yet created might be expunged therefrom, and the guardian angels be
compelled to write other things in place thereof!
But such an idea ill befits a Mussulman; it is not the mental expression
of that pious resignation with which the Mohammedan fortifies himself
against the future, submissive as he is to the decrees of Fate, with
never a thought of striving against the Powers of Omnipotence with a
mortal hand. Ambitious, world-disturbing were the thoughts which ran
riot in the brain of Halil Patrona--thoughts meet for no mere mortal.
Poor indeed are the thoughts of man. He piles world upon world, and sets
about building for the ages, and then a light breath of air strikes upon
that which he has built and it becomes dust. Wherefore, then, does man
take thought for the morrow?
The night slowly descended, the glow of the southern sky grew ever paler
on the half-moons of the minarets, till they grew gradually quite dark
and the cry of the muezzin resounded from the towers of the mosques.
"Allah Kerim! Allah Akbar! La illah il Allah, Mohammed rasul Allah! God
is sublime. God is mighty. There is one God and Mohammed is his
Prophet."
And after a few moments he called again:
"Come, ye people, to the rest of God, to the abode of righteousness;
come to the abode of felicity!"
Gül-Bejáze awoke. Halil washed his hands and feet, and turning towards
the mehrab[9] began to pray.
But in vain he sent away Gül-Bejáze (for women are not permitted to be
present at the prayers of men nor men at the prayers of women); in vain
he raised his hands heavenwards; in vain he went down on his knees and
lay with his face touching the ground; other thoughts were abroad in his
heart--terrifying, disturbing thoughts which suggested to him that the
God to Whom he prayed no longer existed, but just as His Kingdom here
on earth was falling to pieces so also in Heaven it was on the point of
vanishing. Thrice he was obliged to begin his prayer all over again, for
thrice it was interrupted by a cough, and it is not lawful to go on with
a prayer that has once been interrupted. Once more he cast a glance upon
the darkened city, and it grieved him sorely that nowhere could he
perceive a half-moon; whereupon he went in again, sought for Gül-Bejáze,
and told her lovely fairy tales which, he pretended, he had been reading
in the Talik book.
The next day Halil gathered together in his secret chamber all those in
whom he had confidence. Among them were Kaplan Giraj, a kinsman of the
Khan of the Crimea, Musli, old Vuodi, Mohammed the dervish, and Sulali.
Sulali wrote down what Halil said.
"Mussulmans. Yesterday, before the Abdestan, I was reading the book
whose name is the 'Takimi Vekai.'"
"Mashallah!" exclaimed all the Mohammedans mournfully.
"In that book the overthrow of the Ottoman Empire is predicted. The
year, the day is at hand when the name of Allah will no longer be
glorified on this earth, when the tinkling of the sheep-bells will be
heard on the ruins of the marble fountains, and those other bells so
hateful to Allah will resound from the towers of the minarets. In those
days the Giaours will play at quoits with the heads of the true
believers, and build mansions over their tombs."
"Mashallah! the will of God be done!" said old dervish Mohammed with a
shaking voice, "by then we shall all of us be in Paradise, up in the
seventh Heaven, the soil whereof is of pure starch, ambergris, musk, and
saffron. There, too, the very stones are jacinths and the pebbles pure
pearls, and the Tuba-tree shields the faithful from the heat of the sun,
as they rest beneath it and gaze up at its golden flowers and silver
leaves, and refresh themselves with the milk, wine, and honey which flow
abundantly from its sweet and glorious stem. There, too, are the
dwellings of Mohammed and the Prophets his predecessors, in all their
indescribable beauty, and over the roof of every true believer bend the
branches of the sacred tree, whose fruits never fail, nor wither, nor
rot, and there we shall all live together in the splendour of Paradise
where every true believer shall have a palace of his own. And in every
palace two-and-seventy lovely houris will smile upon him--young virgins
of an immortal loveliness--whose faces will never grow old or wrinkled,
and who are a hundred times more affectionate than the women of this
world."
Halil listened with the utmost composure till greybeard Vuodi had
delivered his discourse concerning the joys of Paradise.
"All that you say is very pretty and very true no doubt, but let your
mind also dwell upon what the Prophet has revealed to us concerning the
distribution of rewards and punishments. When the angel Azrael has
gently separated our souls from our bodies, and we have been buried with
the double tombstone at our heads, on which is written: 'Dame Allah huti
ale Remaeti,'[10] then will come to us the two Angels of Judgment,
Monker and Nakir. And they will ask us if we have fulfilled the precepts
of the Prophet. What shall our trembling lips reply to them? And when
they ask us whether we have defended the true faith, whether we have
defended our Fatherland against the Infidels, what shall we then reply
to them? Blessed, indeed, will be those who can answer: 'I have done all
which it was commanded me to do,' their spirits will await the final
judgment in the cool abodes of the Well of Ishmael. But as for those who
shall answer: 'I saw the danger which threatened the Osmanli nation, it
was in my power to help and I did it not,' their bodies will be scourged
by the angels with iron rods and their souls will be thrust into the
abyss of Morhut there to await the judgment-day. And when the trump of
the angel Israfil shall sound and the Marvel from the Mountain of Safa
doth appear to write 'Mumen'[11] or 'Giaour'[12] on the foreheads of
mankind; and when Al-Dallaja[13] comes to root out the nation of the
Osmanli, and the hosts of Gog and Magog appear to exterminate the
Christians, and drink up the waters of the rivers, and at the last all
things perish before the Mahdi; then when the mountains are rent asunder
and the stars fall from Heaven, when the archangels Michael and Gabriel
open the tombs and bring forth the trembling, death-pale shapes, one by
one, before the face of Allah, and they all stand there as transparent
as crystal so that every thought of their hearts is visible--what then
will you answer, you in whose power it once stood to uphold the dominion
of Mahomet, you to whom it was given to have swords in your hands and
ideas in your heads to be used in its defence--what will you answer, I
say, when you hear the brazen voice cry: 'Ye who saw destruction coming,
did ye try to prevent it?' What will it profit you then, old Vuodi and
ye others, to say that ye never neglected the Abdestan, the Güzül, and
the Thüharet ablutions, nor the five prayers of the Namazat, that ye
have kept the fast of Ramazan and the feast of Bejram, that ye have
richly distributed the Zakato[14] and the Sadakato,[15] that you have
made the pilgrimage to the Kaaba at Mecca so many times, or so many
times, that you have kissed the sin-remitting black stone, that you have
drunk from the well of Zemzem and seven times made the circuit of the
mountain of Arafat and flung stones at the Devil in the valley of
Dsemre--what will it profit you, I say, if you cannot answer that
question? Woe to you, woe to everyone of us who see, who hear, and yet
go on dreaming! For when we tread the Bridge of Alshirat, across whose
razor-sharp edge every true believer must pass on his way to Paradise,
the load of a single sin will drag you down into the abyss, down into
Hell, and not even into the first Hell, Gehenna, where the faithful do
penance, nor into the Hell of Ladhana, where the souls of the Jews are
purified, nor into the Hell of Hotama wherein the Christians perish, nor
into the Hell of Sair which is the abode of the Heretics, nor into the
Hell of Sakar wherein the fire-worshippers curse the fire, nor yet into
the Hell of Jahim which resounds with the yells of the idol-worshippers,
but into the seventh hell, the deepest and most accursed hell of all,
whose name is Al-Havija, where wallow those who only did God lip-service
and never felt the faith in their hearts, for we pray lying prayers when
we say that we worship Allah and yet allow His Temple to be defiled."
These words deeply moved the hearts of all present. Every sentence
alluded to the most weighty of the Moslem beliefs; the meshes of the net
with which Halil had taken their souls captive were composed of the very
essentials of their religious and political system, so they could but
put their hands to their breasts, bow down before him, and say:
"Command us and we will obey!"
Then Halil, with the inspiration of a seer, addressed the men before
him.
"Woe to us if we believe that the days of threatening are still far off!
Woe to us if we believe that the sins which will ruin the nation of
Osman have not yet been committed! While our ancestors dwelt in tents of
skin, half the world feared our name, but since the nation of Osman has
strutted about in silk and velvet it has become a laughing-stock to its
enemies. Our great men grow gardens in their palaces; they pass their
days in the embraces of women, drinking wine, and listening to music;
they loathe the battlefield, and oh, horrible! they blaspheme the name
of Allah. If among the Giaours, blasphemers of God are to be found, I
marvel not thereat, for their minds are corrupted by the multitude of
this world's knowledge; but how can a Mussulman raise his head against
God--a Mussulman who has never learnt anything in his life save to
glorify His Name? And what are we to think when on the eve of the Feast
of Halwet we hear a Sheik, a descendant of the family of the Prophet, a
Sheik before whom the people bow reverently when they meet him in the
street--what are we to think, I say, when we hear this Sheik say before
the great men of the palace all drunk with wine: 'There is no Allah, or
if there is an Allah he is not almighty; for if he were almighty he
would have prevented me from saying, there is no Allah!'"
A cry of horror arose from the assembled Mussulmans which only after a
while died away in an angry murmur like a gradually departing gust of
wind.
"Who was the accursed one?" exclaimed Mohammed dervish, shaking his
clenched fist threateningly.
"It was Uzun Abdi, the Aga of the Janissaries," replied Halil, "who said
that, and the others only laughed."
"Let them all be accursed!"
"Wealth has ruined the heart of the Osmanli," continued Halil. "Who are
they who now control the fate of the Realm? The creatures of the
Sultana, the slaves of the Kizlar-Aga, the Izoglani, whose
licentiousness will bring down upon Stambul the judgment of Sodom and
Gomorrah. It is from thence we get our rulers and our treasurers, and
if now and then Fate causes a hero to plump down among them he also
grows black like a drop of water that has fallen upon soot; for the
treasures, palaces, and odalisks of the fallen magnates are transferred
to the new favourite, and ruin him as quickly and as completely as they
ruined his predecessors; and so long as these palaces stand by the Sweet
Waters more curses than prayers will be heard within the walls of
Stambul, so that if ye want to save Stambul, ye must burn down these
palaces, for as sure as God exists these palaces will consume Stambul."
"We must go to the Sultan about it," said the dervish Mohammed.
"Pulled down they must be, for no righteous man dwells therein. The
whole of this Empire of Stone must come down, whoever is so much as a
head taller than his brethren is a sinner. Let us raise up those who are
lowest of all. Down from your perches, ye venal voivodes, khans, and
pashas, who buy the Empire piecemeal with money and for money barter it
away again! Let men of war, real men though Fame as yet knows them not,
step into your places. The very atmosphere in which ye live is
pestiferous because of you. For some time now, gold and silver pieces,
stamped with the heads of men and beasts, have been circulating in our
piazzas, although, as we all know, no figures of living things should
appear on the coins of the Mussulman. Neither Russia, nor Sweden, nor
yet Poland pay tribute to us; and yet, I say, these picture-coins still
circulate among us. Oh! ever since Baltaji suffered White[16] Mustache,
the Emperor of the North, to escape, full well ye know it! gold and
silver go further and hit the mark more surely than iron and lead. We
must create a new world, none belonging to the old order of things must
remain among us. Write down a long, long list, and carry it to the Grand
Vizier. If he refuses to accept it, write another in his place on the
list, and take it to the Sultan. Woe betide the nation of Osman if it
cannot find within it as many just men as its needs require!"
The assembled Mussulmans thereupon drew up in hot haste a long list of
names in which they proposed fresh candidates for all the chief offices
of the Empire. They put down Choja Dzhanum as the new Kapudan Pasha,
Mustafa Beg as the new Minister of the Interior, Musli as the new
Janissary Aga; the actual judges and treasurers were banished, the
banished judges and treasurers were restored to their places; instead of
Maurocordato, who had been educated abroad, they appointed his enemy,
Richard Rakovitsa, surnamed Djihan, Voivode of Wallachia; instead of
Ghyka they placed the butcher of Pera, Janaki, on the throne of
Moldavia; and instead of Mengli Giraj, Khan of the Crimea, Kaplan Giraj,
actually present among them, was called to ascend the throne of his
ancestors.
Kaplan Giraj pressed Halil's hand by way of expressing his gratitude for
this mark of confidence.
And, oddly enough, as Halil pressed the hand of the Khan, it seemed to
him as if his arm felt an electric shock. What could it mean?
But now Musli stood up before him.
"Allow me," said he, "to go with this writing to the Grand Vizier. You
have been in the Seraglio already, let mine be the glory of displaying
my valour by going thither likewise! Do not take all the glory to
yourself, allow others to have a little of it too! Besides, it does not
become you to carry your own messages to the Divan. Why even the Princes
of the Giaours do not go there themselves but send their ambassadors."
Halil Patrona gratefully pressed the Janissary's hand. He knew right
well that he spoke from no desire of glorification, he knew that Musli
only wanted to go instead of him because it was very possible that the
bearer of these demands might be beheaded.
Once again Musli begged earnestly of Halil that the delivery of these
demands might be entrusted to him, and so proudly did he make his
petition that it was impossible for Halil Patrona to deny him.
Now Musli was a sly dog. He knew very well that it was a very risky
business to present so many demands all at once, but he made up his mind
that he would so completely take the Grand Vizier by surprise, that
before he could find breath to refuse the demands of the people, he
would grant one of them after another, for if he swallowed the first of
them that was on the list, he might be hoodwinked into swallowing the
rest likewise.
The new Grand Vizier went by the name of Kabakulak, or Blunt-ear,
because he was hard of hearing, which suited Musli exactly, as he had,
by nature, a bad habit of bawling whenever he spoke.
At first Kabakulak would not listen to anything at all. He seemed to
have suddenly gone stone-deaf, and had every single word repeated to him
three times over; but when Musli said to him that if he would not listen
to what he was saying, he, Musli, would go off at once to the Sultan and
tell _him_, Kabakulak opened his ears a little wider, became somewhat
more gracious, and asked Musli, quite amicably, what he could do for
him.
Musli felt his courage rising many degrees since he began bawling at a
Grand Vizier.
"Halil Patrona _commands_ it to be done," he bellowed in Kabakulak's
ear.
The Vizier threw back his head.
"Come, come, my son!" said he, "don't shout in my ear like that, just
as if I were deaf. What did you say it was that Halil Patrona begs of
me?"
"Don't twist my words, you old owl!" said Musli, naturally _sotto voce_.
Then raising his voice, he added, "Halil Patrona wants Dzhanum Choja
appointed Kapudan Pasha."
"Good, good, my son! just the very thing I wanted done myself; that has
been resolved upon long ago, so you may go away home."
"Go away indeed! not yet! Then Wallachia wants a new voivode."
"It has got one already, got one already I tell you, my son. His name is
Maurocordato. Bear it in mind--Mau-ro-cor-da-to."
"I don't mean to bother my tongue with it at all. As I pronounce it it
is--Djihan."
"Djihan? Who is Djihan?"
"Djihan is the Voivode of Wallachia."
"Very well, you shall have it so. And what do you want for yourself, my
son, eh?"
Musli was inscribed in the list as the Aga of the Janissaries, but he
was too modest to speak of himself.
"Don't trouble your head about me, Kabakulak, while there are so many
worthier men unprovided for. We want the Khan of the Crimea deposed and
the banished Kaplan Giraj appointed in his stead."
"Very well, we will inform Kaplan Giraj of his promotion presently."
"Not presently, but instantly. Instantly, I say, without the least
delay."
Musli accompanied his eloquence with such gesticulations that the Grand
Vizier thought it prudent to fall back before him.
"Don't you feel well?" he asked Musli, who had suddenly become silent.
In his excitement he had forgotten the other demands.
"Ah! I have it," he said, and sitting down on the floor at his ease, he
took the list from his bosom and extending it on the floor, began
reciting Halil Patrona's nominations seriatim.
The Grand Vizier approved of the whole thing, he had no objection to
make to anything.
Musli left Janaki's elevation last of all: "He you must make Voivode of
Moldavia," said he.
Suddenly Kabakulak went quite deaf. He could not hear a word of Musli's
last demand.
Musli drew nearer to him, and making a speaking-trumpet out of his
hands, bawled in his ear:
"Janaki I am talking about."
"Yes, yes! I hear, I hear. You want him to be allowed to provide the
Sultan's kitchen with the flesh of bullocks and sheep. So be it! He
shall have the charge."
"Would that the angel Izrafil might blow his trumpet in thine ear!" said
Musli to himself _sotto voce_. "I am not talking of his trade as a
butcher," added he aloud. "I say that he is to be made Prince of
Moldavia."
Kabakulak now thought it just as well to show that he heard what had
been asked, and replied very gravely:
"You know not what you are asking. The Padishah, only four days ago,
gave this office to Prince Ghyka, who is a wise and distinguished man.
The Sultan cannot go back from his word."
"A wise and distinguished man!" cried Musli in amazement. "What am I to
understand by that? Is there any difference then between one Giaour and
another?"
"The Sultan has so ordered it, and without his knowledge I cannot take
upon myself to alter his decrees."
"Very well, go to the Sultan then and get him to undo again what he has
done. For the rest you can do what you like for what I care, only beware
of one thing, beware lest you lose the favour of Halil Patrona!"
Kabakulak by this time had had nearly enough of Musli, but the latter
still continued diligently to consult his list. He recollected that
Halil Patrona had charged him to say something else, but what it was he
could not for the life of him call to mind.
"Ah, yes! now I have it!" he cried at last. "Halil commands that those
nasty palaces which stand by the Sweet Waters shall be burnt to the
ground."
"I suppose, my worthy incendiaries, you will next ask permission to
plunder Stambul out and out?"
"It is too bad of you, Kabakulak, to speak like that. Halil does not
want the palaces burnt for the love of the thing, but because he does
not want the generals to have an asylum where they may hide, plant
flowers, and wallow in vile delights just when they ought to be
hastening to the camp. If every pasha had not his paradise here on earth
and now, many more of them would desire the heavenly Paradise. That is
why Halil Patrona would have all those houses of evil luxury burnt to
the ground."
"May Halil Patrona live long enough to see it come to pass. This also
will I report to the Sultan."
"Look sharp about it then! I will wait in your room here till you come
back."
"You will wait here?"
"Yes, never mind about me! I have given orders that my dinner is to be
sent after me here. I look to you for coffee and tobacco, and if you
happen to be delayed till early to-morrow morning, you will find me
sleeping here on the carpet."
Kabakulak could now see that he had to do with a man of character who
would not stir from the spot till everything had been settled completely
to his satisfaction. The most expeditious mode of ending matters would,
no doubt, have been to summon a couple of ciauses and make them lay the
rascal's head at his own feet, but the political horizon was not yet
sufficiently serene for such acts of daring. The bands of the insurgents
were still encamping in the public square outside. First of all they
must be hoodwinked and pacified, only after that would it be possible
to proceed to extreme measures against them.
All that the Grand Vizier could do, therefore, was frankly to present
all Halil Patrona's demands to the Sultan.
Mahmud granted everything on the spot.
In an hour's time the firmans and hatti-scherifs, deposing and elevating
the various functionaries, were in Musli's hands as desired.
Only as to the method of destroying the kiosks did the Sultan venture to
make a suggestion. They had better not be burnt to the ground, he
opined, for thereby the Mussulmans would make themselves the
laughing-stock of the whole Christian world; but he undertook to
dilapidate the walls and devastate the pleasure-gardens.
And within three days one hundred and twenty splendid kiosks, standing
beside the Sweet Waters, had become so many rubbish heaps; and the rare
and costly plants of the beautiful flower-gardens were chucked into the
water, and the groves of amorous dallying were cut down to the very
roots. Only ruins were now to be seen in the place of the fairy palaces
wherein all manner of earthly joys had hitherto built their nests, and
all this ruin was wrought in three days by Halil Patrona, just because
there is but one God, and therefore but one Paradise, and because this
Paradise is not on earth but in Heaven, and those who would attain
thereto must strive and struggle valiantly for it in this life.
FOOTNOTES:
[3] 1481 A.D.
[4] Ablutions before prayers.
[5] The first section of the Koran.
[6] The Imperial Treasury.
[7] The part of Stambul inhabited by the Greeks.
[8] Companies of horse.
[9] Tablets indicating the direction in which Mecca lies.
[10] "God be for ever gracious to him."
[11] Believer.
[12] Unbeliever.
[13] Anti-Christ.
[14] The prescribed almsgiving.
[15] Voluntary almsgiving.
[16] Peter the Great. The allusion is to the Peace of the Pruth.