On the Etmeidan,
in front of the Seraglio, in the doors of the mosques, the people are
swarming, and from street to street they accompany the banner-bearing
Duelbendar, who proclaims to the faithful amidst the flourish of trumpets
that Sultan Achmed III. has declared war against Tamasip, Shah of
Persia.
Everywhere faces radiant with enthusiasm, everywhere shouts of martial
fervour.
From time to time a regiment of Janissaries or a band of Albanian
horsemen passes across the street, or escorts the buffaloes that drag
after them the long heavy guns on wheeled carriages. The mob in its
thousands follows them along the road leading to Scutari, where the camp
has already been pitched. For at last, at any rate, the Padishah is
surfeited with so many feasts and illuminations, and after having
postponed the raising of the banner of the Prophet, under all sorts of
frivolous excuses, from the 18th day of Safer (2nd of September) to the
1st day of Rebusler, and from that day again to the Prophet's birthday
ten days later still, the expected, the appointed day is at length
drawing near, and the whole host is assembling beneath the walls of
Scutari, only awaiting the arrival of the Sultan to take ship at
once--the transports are all ready--and hasten to the assistance of the
heroic Kueprilizade on the battlefield.
The whole Bosphorus was a living forest planted with a maze of huge
masts and spreading sails, and a thousand variegated flags flew and
flapped in the morning breeze.
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