He Can't
Stir Abroad But Those Abominable Cannon Begin Roaring And Deafening
His Ears.
He can't see the world but over the shoulders of a row
of fat pashas, and eunuchs, with their infernal ugliness.
His ears
can never be regaled with a word of truth, or blessed with an
honest laugh. The only privilege of manhood left to him, he enjoys
but for a month in the year, at this time of Ramazan, when he is
forced to fast for fifteen hours; and, by consequence, has the
blessing of feeling hungry." Sunset during Lent appears to be his
single moment of pleasure; they say the poor fellow is ravenous by
that time, and as the gun fires the dish-covers are taken off, so
that for five minutes a day he lives and is happy over pillau, like
another mortal.
And yet, when floating by the Summer Palace, a barbaric edifice of
wood and marble, with gilded suns blazing over the porticoes, and
all sorts of strange ornaments and trophies figuring on the gates
and railings - when we passed a long row of barred and filigreed
windows, looking on the water - when we were told that those were
the apartments of His Highness's ladies, and actually heard them
whispering and laughing behind the bars - a strange feeling of
curiosity came over some ill-regulated minds - just to have one
peep, one look at all those wondrous beauties, singing to the
dulcimers, paddling in the fountains, dancing in the marble halls,
or lolling on the golden cushions, as the gaudy black slaves
brought pipes and coffee.
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