"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.
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