The Argosy — page 252: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

236 4o:.“inutes in a Life. “Stop,” said the Bostangi-Bassa. “Since you are such a magician, will you tell me the Sultan’s favourite flower?” “The poppy of Aleppo: it is red,” replied the juggler, without a moment’s hesitation. “ At what time does the Sultan sleep?” resumed the Bostangi. “* Never !” said the juggler. The Bassa started and looked anxiously around him, fearing lest other ears had heard this answer. Then, beckoning the juggler to ap- proach, and lowering his voice, he asked, ‘‘Can you name the Sultan’s favourite wife P ” “ Assarach,” replied the diviner. The Bostangi put his fingers on his lips in silence, and, moving away, said, “‘ Follow me!” The young man took up his yataghan, and, leaving the remainder of his effects to be carried by a slave, followed his guide toward the great door of the palace. The history of successive sultans often presents little beyond the melancholy spectacle of a throne at the mercy of a lawless soldiery. Mahmoud was not the first of his race who sought to free the seraglio from those formidable guardians. Solyman III. had also formed this perilous design, but he was put to death by the janizaries, led by Mus- tapha, his uncle, who came from the Morea for the ostensible purpose of.defending the emperor, but in reality to seize upon his throne. The Sultan Mustapha, who had commenced his reign in such a tragic man- ner, experienced all the anxiety and uneasiness which must ever attend the acts of an usurper and tyrant, Sordid, suspicious and perfidious, he broke through every promise he had made to the janizanes, whose creature, nevertheless, he was. Instead of doubling their pay, he di-- minished it ; instead of lessening the taxes, he doubled them. He lived buried in the depths of his palace, the care of which he had con- fided to the Greek soldiery, notwithstanding the murmurs of the legiti- mate guards. The mutes, dwarfs, and buffoons of the palace could _ alone obtain access to his presence. At the time the juggler was amusing the subjects of his Highness, Mustapha was seated cross-legged on his divan, seeking to drive away his ennui by watching the columns of fragrant smoke as they slowly rose from the long tube of his nargileh, A slave stood beside him, holding a feathered fan of various colours. The buffoons of the palace had vainly tried to extort a smile from their master, The impassibility of the Grand Signior gave them to understand that their time was ill- chosen, and that mirth would be dangerous ; they had, therefore, one after the other, quitted the apartment, waiting to re-enter at the good pleasure of the prince. The palace was silent. Shortly the hangings opposite the divan were gently raised,jand a man stood in respectful attitude before Mustapha. ECoOMmicloooks (C(O)