The above sentence contains the following propositions:— The enjoyments16 of boyish fancy are the most intense and delicious in the world. Stanfield’s panorama17 used to be the realisation of the most intense youthful fancy. I puzzle my brains and find no better likeness18 for the place. The view of Constantinople resembles the ne plus ultra of a Stanfield diorama, with a glorious accompaniment of music, spangled houris, warriors19, and winding20 processions, feasting the eyes and the soul with light, splendour, and harmony. If you were never in this way during your youth ravished at the play-house, of course the whole comparison is useless: and you have no idea, from this description, of the effect which Constantinople produces on the mind. But if you were never affected21 by a theatre, no words can work upon your fancy, and typographical attempts to move it are of no use. For, suppose we combine mosque22, minaret23, gold, cypress24, water, blue, caiques, seventy-four, Galata, Tophana, Ramazan, Backallum, and so forth25, together, in ever so many ways, your imagination will never be able to depict26 a city out of them. Or, suppose I say the Mosque of St. Sophia is four hundred and seventy-three feet in height, measuring from the middle nail of the gilt27 crescent surmounting28 the dome29 to the ring in the centre stone; the circle of the dome is one hundred and twenty-three feet in diameter, the windows ninety-seven in number — and all this may be true, for anything I know to the contrary: yet who is to get an idea of St. Sophia from dates, proper names, and calculations with a measuring-line? It can’t be done by giving the age and measurement of all the buildings along the river, the names of all the boatmen who ply30 on it. Has your fancy, which pooh-poohs a simile5, faith enough to build a city with a foot-rule? Enough said about descriptions and similes (though whenever I am uncertain of one I am naturally most anxious to fight for it): it is a scene not perhaps sublime31, but charming, magnificent, and cheerful beyond any I have ever seen — the most superb combination of city and gardens, domes32 and shipping33, hills and water, with the healthiest breeze blowing over it, and above it the brightest and most cheerful sky.
It is proper, they say, to be disappointed on entering the town, or any of the various quarters of it, because the houses are not so magnificent on inspection35 and seen singly as they are when beheld36 en masse from the waters. But why form expectations so lofty? If you see a group of peasants picturesquely38 disposed at a fair, you don’t suppose that they are all faultless beauties, or that the men’s coats have no rags, and the women’s gowns are made of silk and velvet39: the wild ugliness of the interior of Constantinople or Pera has a charm of its own, greatly more amusing than rows of red bricks or drab stones, however symmetrical. With brick or stone they could never form those fantastic ornaments40, railings, balconies, roofs, galleries, which jut41 in and out of the rugged42 houses of the city. As we went from Galata to Pera up a steep hill, which newcomers ascend43 with some difficulty, but which a porter, with a couple of hundredweight on his back, paces up without turning a hair, I thought the wooden houses far from being disagreeable objects, sights quite as surprising and striking as the grand one we had just left.
I do not know how the custom-house of His Highness is made to be a profitable speculation44. As I left the ship, a man pulled after my boat, and asked for backsheesh, which was given him to the amount of about twopence. He was a custom-house officer, but I doubt whether this sum which he levied45 ever went to the revenue.
I can fancy the scene about the quays46 somewhat to resemble the river of London in olden times, before coal-smoke had darkened the whole city with soot47, and when, according to the old writers, there really was bright weather. The fleets of caiques bustling48 along the shore, or scudding49 over the blue water, are beautiful to look at: in Hollar’s print London river is so studded over with wherry-boats, which bridges and steamers have since destroyed. Here the caique is still in full perfection: there are thirty thousand boats of the kind plying50 between the cities; every boat is neat, and trimly carved and painted; and I scarcely saw a man pulling in one of them that was not a fine specimen51 of his race, brawny52 and brown, with an open chest and a handsome face. They wear a thin shirt of exceedingly light cotton, which leaves their fine brown limbs full play; and with a purple sea for a background, every one of these dashing boats forms a brilliant and glittering picture. Passengers squat53 in the inside of the boat; so that as it passes you see little more than the heads of the true believers, with their red fez and blue tassel54, and that placid55 gravity of expression which the sucking of a tobacco-pipe is sure to give to a man.
The Bosphorus is enlivened by a multiplicity of other kinds of craft. There are the dirty men-of-war’s boats of the Russians, with unwashed mangy crews; the great ferry-boats carrying hundreds of passengers to the villages; the melon-boats piled up with enormous golden fruit; His Excellency the Pasha’s boat, with twelve men bending to their oars56; and His Highness’s own caique, with a head like a serpent, and eight-and-twenty tugging57 oarsmen, that goes shooting by amidst the thundering of the cannon58. Ships and steamers, with black sides and flaunting59 colours, are moored60 everywhere, showing their flags, Russian and English, Austrian, American, and Greek; and along the quays country ships from the Black Sea or the islands, with high carved poops and bows, such as you see in the pictures of the shipping of the seventeenth century. The vast groves61 and towers, domes and quays, tall minarets62 and spired63 spreading mosques64 of the three cities, rise all around in endless magnificence and variety, and render this water-street a scene of such delightful65 liveliness and beauty, that one never tires of looking at it. I lost a great number of the sights in and round Constantinople through the beauty of this admirable scene: but what are sights after all? and isn’t that the best sight which makes you most happy?
We were lodged66 at Pera at Misseri’s Hotel, the host of which has been made famous ere this time by the excellent book “Eothen,”— a work for which all the passengers on board our ship had been battling, and which had charmed all — from our great statesman, our polished lawyer, our young Oxonian, who sighed over certain passages that he feared were wicked, down to the writer of this, who, after perusing67 it with delight, laid it down with wonder, exclaiming, “Aut Diabolus aut”— a book which has since (greatest miracle of all) excited a feeling of warmth and admiration68 in the bosom69 of the god-like, impartial70, stony71 Athenaeum. Misseri, the faithful and chivalrous72 Tartar, is transformed into the most quiet and gentlemanlike of landlords, a great deal more gentlemanlike in manner and appearance than most of us who sat at his table, and smoked cool pipes on his house-top, as we looked over the hill and the Russian palace to the water, and the Seraglio gardens shining in the blue. We confronted Misseri, “Eothen” in hand, and found, on examining him, that it WAS “aut Diabolus aut amicus”— but the name is a secret; I will never breathe it, though I am dying to tell it.
The last good description of a Turkish bath, I think, was Lady Mary Wortley Montagu’s — which voluptuous73 picture must have been painted at least a hundred and thirty years ago; so that another sketch74 may be attempted by a humbler artist in a different manner. The Turkish bath is certainly a novel sensation to an Englishman, and may be set down as a most queer and surprising event of his life. I made the valet-de-place or dragoman (it is rather a fine thing to have a dragoman in one’s service) conduct me forthwith to the best appointed hummums in the neighbourhood; and we walked to a house at Tophana, and into a spacious75 hall lighted from above, which is the cooling-room of the bath.
The spacious hall has a large fountain in the midst, a painted gallery running round it; and many ropes stretched from one gallery to another, ornamented76 with profuse77 draperies of towels and blue cloths, for the use of the frequenters of the place. All round the room and the galleries were matted inclosures, fitted with numerous neat beds and cushions for reposing78 on, where lay a dozen of true believers smoking, or sleeping, or in the happy half-dozing state. I was led up to one of these beds, to rather a retired79 corner, in consideration of my modesty80; and to the next bed presently came a dancing dervish, who forthwith began to prepare for the bath.
When the dancing dervish had taken off his yellow sugar-loaf cap, his gown, shawl, &c., he was arrayed in two large blue cloths; a white one being thrown over his shoulders, and another in the shape of a turban plaited neatly81 round his head; the garments of which he divested82 himself were folded up in another linen83, and neatly put by. I beg leave to state I was treated in precisely84 the same manner as the dancing dervish.
The reverend gentleman then put on a pair of wooden pattens, which elevated him about six inches from the ground; and walked down the stairs, and paddled across the moist marble floor of the hall, and in at a little door, by the which also Titmarsh entered. But I had none of the professional agility85 of the dancing dervish; I staggered about very ludicrously upon the high wooden pattens; and should have been down on my nose several times, had not the dragoman and the master of the bath supported me down the stairs and across the hall. Dressed in three large cotton napkins, with a white turban round my head, I thought of Pall86 Mall with a sort of despair. I passed the little door, it was closed behind me — I was in the dark — I couldn’t speak the language — in a white turban. Mon Dieu! what was going to happen?
The dark room was the tepidarium, a moist oozing87 arched den2, with a light faintly streaming from an orifice in the domed88 ceiling. Yells of frantic89 laughter and song came booming and clanging through the echoing arches, the doors clapped to with loud reverberations. It was the laughter of the followers90 of Mahound, rollicking and taking their pleasure in the public bath. I could not go into that place: I swore I would not; they promised me a private room, and the dragoman left me. My agony at parting from that Christian91 cannot be described.
When you get into the sudarium, or hot room, your first sensations only occur about half a minute after entrance, when you feel that you are choking. I found myself in that state, seated on a marble slab92; the bath man was gone; he had taken away the cotton turban and shoulder shawl: I saw I was in a narrow room of marble, with a vaulted93 roof, and a fountain of warm and cold water; the atmosphere was in a steam, the choking sensation went off, and I felt a sort of pleasure presently in a soft boiling simmer, which, no doubt, potatoes feel when they are steaming. You are left in this state for about ten minutes: it is warm certainly, but odd and pleasant, and disposes the mind to reverie.
But let any delicate mind in Baker Street fancy my horror when, on looking up out of this reverie, I saw a great brown wretch94 extended before me, only half dressed, standing95 on pattens, and exaggerated by them and the steam until he looked like an ogre, grinning in the most horrible way, and waving his arm, on which was a horsehair glove. He spoke96, in his unknown nasal jargon97, words which echoed through the arched room; his eyes seemed astonishingly large and bright, his ears stuck out, and his head was all shaved, except a bristling98 top-knot, which gave it a demoniac fierceness.
This description, I feel, is growing too frightful99; ladies who read it will be going into hysterics, or saying, “Well, upon my word, this is the most singular, the most extraordinary kind of language. Jane, my love, you will not read that odious100 book —” and so I will be brief. This grinning man belabours the patient violently with the horse-brush. When he has completed the horsehair part, and you lie expiring under a squirting fountain of warm water, and fancying all is done, he reappears with a large brass101 basin, containing a quantity of lather102, in the midst of which is something like old Miss MacWhirter’s flaxen wig103 that she is so proud of, and that we have all laughed at. Just as you are going to remonstrate104, the thing like the wig is dashed into your face and eyes, covered over with soap, and for five minutes you are drowned in lather: you can’t see, the suds are frothing over your eye-balls; you can’t hear, the soap is whizzing into your ears; can’t gasp105 for breath, Miss MacWhirter’s wig is down your throat with half a pailful of suds in an instant — you are all soap. Wicked children in former days have jeered106 you, exclaiming, “How are you off for soap?” You little knew what saponacity was till you entered a Turkish bath.
When the whole operation is concluded, you are led — with what heartfelt joy I need not say — softly back to the cooling-room, having been robed in shawls and turbans as before. You are laid gently on the reposing bed; somebody brings a narghile, which tastes as tobacco must taste in Mahomet’s Paradise; a cool sweet dreamy languor107 takes possession of the purified frame; and half-an-hour of such delicious laziness is spent over the pipe as is unknown in Europe, where vulgar prejudice has most shamefully108 maligned109 indolence — calls it foul110 names, such as the father of all evil, and the like; in fact, does not know how to educate idleness as those honest Turks do, and the fruit which, when properly cultivated, it bears.
The after-bath state is the most delightful condition of laziness I ever knew, and I tried it wherever we went afterwards on our little tour. At Smyrna the whole business was much inferior to the method employed in the capital. At Cairo, after the soap, you are plunged111 into a sort of stone coffin112, full of water which is all but boiling. This has its charms; but I could not relish113 the Egyptian shampooing. A hideous114 old blind man (but very dexterous115 in his art) tried to break my back and dislocate my shoulders, but I could not see the pleasure of the practice; and another fellow began tickling116 the soles of my feet, but I rewarded him with a kick that sent him off the bench. The pure idleness is the best, and I shall never enjoy such in Europe again.
Victor Hugo, in his famous travels on the Rhine, visiting Cologne, gives a learned account of what he DIDN’T see there. I have a remarkable117 catalogue of similar objects at Constantinople. I didn’t see the dancing dervishes, it was Ramazan; nor the howling dervishes at Scutari, it was Ramazan; nor the interior of St. Sophia, nor the women’s apartment of the Seraglio, nor the fashionable promenade118 at the Sweet Waters, always because it was Ramazan; during which period the dervishes dance and howl but rarely, their legs and lungs being unequal to much exertion119 during a fast of fifteen hours. On account of the same holy season, the Royal palaces and mosques are shut; and though the Valley of the Sweet Waters is there, no one goes to walk; the people remaining asleep all day, and passing the night in feasting and carousing120. The minarets are illuminated121 at this season; even the humblest mosque at Jerusalem, or Jaffa, mounted a few circles of dingy122 lamps; those of the capital were handsomely lighted with many festoons of lamps, which had a fine effect from the water. I need not mention other and constant illuminations of the city, which innumerable travellers have described — I mean the fires. There were three in Pera during our eight days’ stay there; but they did not last long enough to bring the Sultan out of bed to come and lend his aid. Mr. Hobhouse (quoted in the “Guide-book”) says, if a fire lasts an hour, the Sultan is bound to attend it in person; and that people having petitions to present, have often set houses on fire for the purpose of forcing out this Royal trump123. The Sultan can’t lead a very “jolly life,” if this rule be universal. Fancy His Highness, in the midst of his moon-faced beauties, handkerchief in hand, and obliged to tie it round his face, and go out of his warm harem at midnight at the cursed cry of “Yang en Var!”
We saw His Highness in the midst of his people and their petitions, when he came to the mosque at Tophana; not the largest, but one of the most picturesque37 of the public buildings of the city. The streets were crowded with people watching for the august arrival, and lined with the squat military in their bastard124 European costume; the sturdy police, with bandeliers and brown surtouts, keeping order, driving off the faithful from the railings of the Esplanade through which their Emperor was to pass, and only admitting (with a very unjust partiality, I thought) us Europeans into that reserved space. Before the august arrival, numerous officers collected, colonels and pashas went by with their attendant running footmen; the most active, insolent125, and hideous of these great men, as I thought, being His Highness’s black eunuchs, who went prancing126 through the crowd, which separated before them with every sign of respect.
The common women were assembled by many hundreds: the yakmac, a muslin chin-cloth which they wear, makes almost every face look the same; but the eyes and noses of these beauties are generally visible, and, for the most part, both these features are good. The jolly negresses wear the same white veil, but they are by no means so particular about hiding the charms of their good-natured black faces, and they let the cloth blow about as it lists, and grin unconfined. Wherever we went the negroes seemed happy. They have the organ of child-loving: little creatures were always prattling127 on their shoulders, queer little things in night gowns of yellow dimity, with great flowers, and pink or red or yellow shawls, with great eyes glistening128 underneath129. Of such the black women seemed always the happy guardians130. I saw one at a fountain, holding one child in her arms, and giving another a drink — a ragged131 little beggar — a sweet and touching132 picture of a black charity.
I am almost forgetting His Highness the Sultan. About a hundred guns were fired off at clumsy intervals133 from the Esplanade facing the Bosphorus, warning us that the monarch134 had set off from his Summer Palace, and was on the way to his grand canoe. At last that vessel made its appearance; the band struck up his favourite air; his caparisoned horse was led down to the shore to receive him; the eunuchs, fat pashas, colonels and officers of state gathering135 round as the Commander of the Faithful mounted. I had the indescribable happiness of seeing him at a very short distance. The Padishah, or Father of all the Sovereigns on earth, has not that majestic136 air which some sovereigns possess, and which makes the beholder’s eyes wink137, and his knees tremble under him: he has a black beard, and a handsome well-bred face, of a French cast; he looks like a young French roue worn out by debauch138; his eyes bright, with black rings round them; his cheeks pale and hollow. He was lolling on his horse as if he could hardly hold himself on the saddle: or as if his cloak, fastened with a blazing diamond clasp on his breast, and falling over his horse’s tail, pulled him back. But the handsome sallow face of the Refuge of the World looked decidedly interesting and intellectual. I have seen many a young Don Juan at Paris, behind a counter, with such a beard and countenance139; the flame of passion still burning in his hollow eyes, while on his damp brow was stamped the fatal mark of premature140 decay. The man we saw cannot live many summers. Women and wine are said to have brought the Zilullah to this state; and it is whispered by the dragomans, or laquais-de-place (from whom travellers at Constantinople generally get their political information), that the Sultan’s mother and his ministers conspire141 to keep him plunged in sensuality, that they may govern the kingdom according to their own fancies. Mr. Urquhart, I am sure, thinks that Lord Palmerston has something to do with the business, and drugs the Sultan’s champagne142 for the benefit of Russia.
As the Pontiff of Mussulmans passed into the mosques a shower of petitions was flung from the steps where the crowd was collected, and over the heads of the gendarmes143 in brown. A general cry, as for justice, rose up; and one old ragged woman came forward and burst through the throng144, howling, and flinging about her lean arms, and baring her old shrunken breast. I never saw a finer action of tragic145 woo, or heard sounds more pitiful than those old passionate146 groans147 of hers. What was your prayer, poor old wretched soul? The gendarmes hemmed148 her round, and hustled149 her away, but rather kindly150. The Padishah went on quite impassible — the picture of debauch and ennui151.
I like pointing morals, and inventing for myself cheap consolations152, to reconcile me to that state of life into which it has pleased Heaven to call me; and as the Light of the World disappeared round the corner, I reasoned pleasantly with myself about His Highness, and enjoyed that secret selfish satisfaction a man has, who sees he is better off than his neighbour. “Michael Angelo,” I said, “you are still (by courtesy) young: if you had five hundred thousand a year, and were a great prince, I would lay a wager153 that men would discover in you a magnificent courtesy of demeanour, and a majestic presence that only belongs to the sovereigns of the world. If you had such an income, you think you could spend it with splendour: distributing genial154 hospitalities, kindly alms, soothing155 misery156, bidding humility157 be of good heart, rewarding desert. If you had such means of purchasing pleasure, you think, you rogue158, you could relish it with gusto. But fancy being brought to the condition of the poor Light of the Universe yonder; and reconcile yourself with the idea that you are only a farthing rushlight. The cries of the poor widow fall as dead upon him as the smiles of the brightest eyes out of Georgia. He can’t stir abroad but those abominable159 cannon begin roaring and deafening160 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 blessing161 of feeling hungry.” Sunset during Lent appears to be his single moment of pleasure; they say the poor fellow is ravenous162 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 edifice163 of wood and marble, with gilded164 suns blazing over the porticoes165, and all sorts of strange ornaments and trophies166 figuring on the gates and railings — when we passed a long row of barred and filigreed167 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 wondrous168 beauties, singing to the dulcimers, paddling in the fountains, dancing in the marble halls, or lolling on the golden cushions, as the gaudy169 black slaves brought pipes and coffee. This tumultuous movement was calmed by thinking of that dreadful statement of travellers, that in one of the most elegant halls there is a trap-door, on peeping below which you may see the Bosphorus running underneath, into which some luckless beauty is plunged occasionally, and the trap-door is shut, and the dancing and the singing, and the smoking and the laughing go on as before. They say it is death to pick up any of the sacks thereabouts, if a stray one should float by you. There were none any day when I passed, AT LEAST, ON THE SURFACE OF THE WATER.
It has been rather a fashion of our travellers to apologise for Turkish life, of late, and paint glowing agreeable pictures of many of its institutions. The celebrated170 author of “Palm-Leaves” (his name is famous under the date-trees of the Nile, and uttered with respect beneath the tents of the Bedaween) has touchingly171 described Ibrahim Pasha’s paternal172 fondness, who cut off a black slave’s head for having dropped and maimed one of his children; and has penned a melodious173 panegyric174 of “The Harem,” and of the fond and beautiful duties of the inmates175 of that place of love, obedience176, and seclusion177. I saw, at the mausoleum of the late Sultan Mahmoud’s family, a good subject for a Ghazul, in the true new Oriental manner.
These Royal burial-places are the resort of the pious178 Moslems. Lamps are kept burning there; and in the antechambers, copies of the Koran are provided for the use of believers; and you never pass these cemeteries179 but you see Turks washing at the cisterns180, previous to entering for prayer, or squatted181 on the benches, chanting passages from the sacred volume. Christians182, I believe, are not admitted, but may look through the bars, and see the coffins183 of the defunct184 monarchs185 and children of the Royal race. Each lies in his narrow sarcophagus, which is commonly flanked by huge candles, and covered with a rich embroidered186 pall. At the head of each coffin rises a slab, with a gilded inscription187; for the princesses, the slab is simple, not unlike our own monumental stones. The headstones of the tombs of the defunct princes are decorated with a turban, or, since the introduction of the latter article of dress, with the red fez. That of Mahmoud is decorated with the imperial aigrette.
In this dismal188 but splendid museum, I remarked two little tombs with little red fezzes, very small, and for very young heads evidently, which were lying under the little embroidered palls189 of state. I forget whether they had candles too; but their little flame of life was soon extinguished, and there was no need of many pounds of wax to typify it. These were the tombs of Mahmoud’s grandsons, nephews of the present Light of the Universe, and children of his sister, the wife of Halil Pasha. Little children die in all ways: these of the much-maligned Mahometan Royal race perished by the bowstring. Sultan Mahmoud (may he rest in glory!) strangled the one; but, having some spark of human feeling, was so moved by the wretchedness and agony of the poor bereaved190 mother, his daughter, that his Royal heart relented towards her, and he promised that, should she ever have another child, it should be allowed to live. He died; and Abdul Medjid (may his name be blessed!), the debauched young man whom we just saw riding to the mosque, succeeded. His sister, whom he is said to have loved, became again a mother, and had a son. But she relied upon her father’s word and her august brother’s love, and hoped that this little one should be spared. The same accursed hand tore this infant out of its mother’s bosom, and killed it. The poor woman’s heart broke outright191 at this second calamity192, and she died. But on her death-bed she sent for her brother, rebuked193 him as a perjurer194 and an assassin, and expired calling down the divine justice on his head. She lies now by the side of the two little fezzes.
Now I say this would be a fine subject for an Oriental poem. The details are dramatic and noble, and could be grandly touched by a fine artist. If the mother had borne a daughter, the child would have been safe; that perplexity might be pathetically depicted195 as agitating196 the bosom of the young wife about to become a mother. A son is born: you can see her despair and the pitiful look she casts on the child, and the way in which she hugs it every time the curtains of her door are removed. The Sultan hesitated probably; he allowed the infant to live for six weeks. He could not bring his Royal soul to inflict197 pain. He yields at last; he is a martyr198 — to be pitied, not to be blamed. If he melts at his daughter’s agony, he is a man and a father. There are men and fathers too in the much-maligned Orient.
Then comes the second act of the tragedy. The new hopes, the fond yearnings, the terrified misgivings199, the timid belief, and weak confidence; the child that is born — and dies smiling prettily200 — and the mother’s heart is rent so, that it can love, or hope, or suffer no more. Allah is God! She sleeps by the little fezzes. Hark! the guns are booming over the water, and His Highness is coming from his prayers.
After the murder of that little child, it seems to me one can never look with anything but horror upon the butcherly Herod who ordered it. The death of the seventy thousand Janissaries ascends201 to historic dignity, and takes rank as war. But a great Prince and Light of the Universe, who procures202 abortions203 and throttles204 little babies, dwindles205 away into such a frightful insignificance206 of crime, that those may respect him who will. I pity their Excellencies the Ambassadors, who are obliged to smirk207 and cringe to such a rascal208. To do the Turks justice — and two days’ walk in Constantinople will settle this fact as well as a year’s residence in the city — the people do not seem in the least animated209 by this Herodian spirit. I never saw more kindness to children than among all classes, more fathers walking about with little solemn Mahometans in red caps and big trousers, more business going on than in the toy quarter, and in the Atmeidan. Although you may see there the Thebaic stone set up by the Emperor Theodosius, and the bronze column of serpents which Murray says was brought from Delphi, but which my guide informed me was the very one exhibited by Moses in the wilderness210, yet I found the examination of these antiquities211 much less pleasant than to look at the many troops of children assembled on the plain to play; and to watch them as they were dragged about in little queer arobas, or painted carriages, which are there kept for hire. I have a picture of one of them now in my eyes: a little green oval machine, with flowers rudely painted round the window, out of which two smiling heads are peeping, the pictures of happiness. An old, good-humoured, grey-bearded Turk is tugging the cart; and behind it walks a lady in a yakmac and yellow slippers212, and a black female slave, grinning as usual, towards whom the little coach-riders are looking. A small sturdy barefooted Mussulman is examining the cart with some feelings of envy: he is too poor to purchase a ride for himself and the round-faced puppy-dog, which he is hugging in his arms as young ladies in our country do dolls.
All the neighbourhood of the Atmeidan is exceedingly picturesque — the mosque court and cloister213, where the Persians have their stalls of sweetmeats and tobacco; a superb sycamore-tree grows in the middle of this, overshadowing an aromatic214 fountain; great flocks of pigeons are settling in corners of the cloister, and barley215 is sold at the gates, with which the good-natured people feed them. From the Atmeidan you have a fine view of St. Sophia: and here stands a mosque which struck me as being much more picturesque and sumptuous216 — the Mosque of Sultan Achmed, with its six gleaming white minarets and its beautiful courts and trees. Any infidels may enter the court without molestation217, and, looking through the barred windows of the mosque, have a view of its airy and spacious interior. A small audience of women was collected there when I looked in, squatted on the mats, and listening to a preacher, who was walking among them, and speaking with great energy. My dragoman interpreted to me the sense of a few words of his sermon: he was warning them of the danger of gadding218 about to public places, and of the immorality219 of too much talking; and, I dare say, we might have had more valuable information from him regarding the follies220 of womankind, had not a tall Turk clapped my interpreter on the shoulder, and pointed34 him to be off.
Although the ladies are veiled, and muffled221 with the ugliest dresses in the world, yet it appears their modesty is alarmed in spite of all the coverings which they wear. One day, in the bazaar222, a fat old body, with diamond rings on her fingers, that were tinged223 with henne of a logwood colour, came to the shop where I was purchasing slippers, with her son, a young Aga of six years of age, dressed in a braided frock-coat, with a huge tassel to his fez, exceeding fat, and of a most solemn demeanour. The young Aga came for a pair of shoes, and his contortions224 were so delightful as he tried them, that I remained looking on with great pleasure, wishing for Leech225 to be at hand to sketch his lordship and his fat mamma, who sat on the counter. That lady fancied I was looking at her, though, as far as I could see, she had the figure and complexion226 of a roly-poly pudding; and so, with quite a premature bashfulness, she sent me a message by the shoemaker, ordering me to walk away if I had made my purchases, for that ladies of her rank did not choose to be stared at by strangers; and I was obliged to take my leave, though with sincere regret, for the little lord had just squeezed himself into an attitude than which I never saw anything more ludicrous in General Tom Thumb. When the ladies of the Seraglio come to that bazaar with their cortege of infernal black eunuchs, strangers are told to move on briskly. I saw a bevy227 of about eight of these, with their aides-de-camp; but they were wrapped up, and looked just as vulgar and ugly as the other women, and were not, I suppose, of the most beautiful sort. The poor devils are allowed to come out, half-a-dozen times in the year, to spend their little wretched allowance of pocket-money in purchasing trinkets and tobacco; all the rest of the time they pursue the beautiful duties of their existence in the walls of the sacred harem.
Though strangers are not allowed to see the interior of the cage in which these birds of Paradise are confined, yet many parts of the Seraglio are free to the curiosity of visitors, who choose to drop a backsheesh here and there. I landed one morning at the Seraglio point from Galata, close by an ancient pleasure-house of the defunct Sultan; a vast broad-brimmed pavilion, that looks agreeable enough to be a dancing room for ghosts now: there is another summer-house, the Guide-book cheerfully says, whither the Sultan goes to sport with his women and mutes. A regiment228 of infantry229, with their music at their head, were marching to exercise in the outer grounds of the Seraglio; and we followed them, and had an opportunity of seeing their evolutions, and hearing their bands, upon a fine green plain under the Seraglio walls, where stands one solitary230 column, erected231 in memory of some triumph of some Byzantian emperor.
There were three battalions232 of the Turkish infantry, exercising here; and they seemed to perform their evolutions in a very satisfactory manner: that is, they fired all together, and charged and halted in very straight lines, and bit off imaginary cartridge-tops with great fierceness and regularity233, and made all their ramrods ring to measure, just like so many Christians. The men looked small, young, clumsy, and ill-built; uncomfortable in their shabby European clothes; and about the legs, especially, seemed exceedingly weak and ill-formed. Some score of military invalids234 were lolling in the sunshine, about a fountain and a marble summer-house that stand on the ground, watching their comrades’ manoeuvres (as if they could never have enough of that delightful pastime); and these sick were much better cared for than their healthy companions. Each man had two dressing-gowns, one of white cotton, and an outer wrapper of warm brown woollen. Their heads were accommodated with wadded cotton nightcaps; and it seemed to me, from their condition and from the excellent character of the military hospitals, that it would be much more wholesome235 to be ill than to be well in the Turkish service.
Facing this green esplanade, and the Bosphorus shining beyond it, rise the great walls of the outer Seraglio Gardens: huge masses of ancient masonry236, over which peep the roofs of numerous kiosks and outhouses, amongst thick evergreens237, planted so as to hide the beautiful frequenters of the place from the prying238 eyes and telescopes. We could not catch a glance of a single figure moving in these great pleasure-grounds. The road winds round the walls; and the outer park, which is likewise planted with trees, and diversified239 by garden-plots and cottages, had more the air of the outbuildings of a homely240 English park, than of a palace which we must all have imagined to be the most stately in the world. The most commonplace water-carts were passing here and there; roads were being repaired in the Macadamite manner; and carpenters were mending the park-palings, just as they do in Hampshire. The next thing you might fancy would be the Sultan walking out with a spud and a couple of dogs, on the way to meet the post-bag and the Saint James’s Chronicle.
The palace is no palace at all. It is a great town of pavilions, built without order, here and there, according to the fancy of succeeding Lights of the Universe, or their favourites. The only row of domes which looked particularly regular or stately, were the kitchens. As you examined the buildings they had a ruinous dilapidated look: they are not furnished, it is said, with particular splendour — not a bit more elegantly than Miss Jones’s seminary for young ladies, which we may be sure is much more comfortable than the extensive establishment of His Highness Abdul Medjid.
In the little stable I thought to see some marks of Royal magnificence, and some horses worthy241 of the king of all kings. But the Sultan is said to be a very timid horseman: the animal that is always kept saddled for him did not look to be worth twenty pounds; and the rest of the horses in the shabby dirty stalls were small, ill-kept, common-looking brutes242. You might see better, it seemed to me, at a country inn stable on any market-day.
The kitchens are the most sublime part of the Seraglio. There are nine of these great halls, for all ranks, from His Highness downwards243, where many hecatombs are roasted daily, according to the accounts, and where cooking goes on with a savage244 Homeric grandeur245. Chimneys are despised in these primitive246 halls; so that the roofs are black with the smoke of hundreds of furnaces, which escapes through apertures247 in the domes above. These, too, give the chief light in the rooms, which streams downwards, and thickens and mingles248 with the smoke, and so murkily249 lights up hundreds of swarthy figures busy about the spits and the cauldrons. Close to the door by which we entered they were making pastry250 for the sultanas; and the chief pastrycook, who knew my guide, invited us courteously251 to see the process, and partake of the delicacies252 prepared for those charming lips. How those sweet lips must shine after eating these puffs253! First, huge sheets of dough254 are rolled out till the paste is about as thin as silver paper: then an artist forms the dough-muslin into a sort of drapery, curling it round and round in many fanciful and pretty shapes, until it is all got into the circumference255 of a round metal tray in which it is baked. Then the cake is drenched256 in grease most profusely257; and, finally, a quantity of syrup258 is poured over it, when the delectable259 mixture is complete. The moon-faced ones are said to devour260 immense quantities of this wholesome food; and, in fact, are eating grease and sweetmeats from morning till night. I don’t like to think what the consequences may be, or allude261 to the agonies which the delicate creatures must inevitably262 suffer.
The good-natured chief pastrycook filled a copper263 basin with greasy264 puffs; and, dipping a dubious265 ladle into a large cauldron, containing several gallons of syrup, poured a liberal portion over the cakes, and invited us to eat. One of the tarts266 was quite enough for me: and I excused myself on the plea of ill-health from imbibing267 any more grease and sugar. But my companion, the dragoman, finished some forty puffs in a twinkling. They slipped down his opened jaws268 as the sausages do down clowns’ throats in a pantomime. His moustaches shone with grease, and it dripped down his beard and fingers. We thanked the smiling chief pastrycook, and rewarded him handsomely for the tarts. It is something to have eaten of the dainties prepared for the ladies of the harem; but I think Mr. Cockle ought to get the names of the chief sultanas among the exalted269 patrons of his antibilious pills.
From the kitchens we passed into the second court of the Seraglio, beyond which is death. The Guide-book only hints at the dangers which would befall a stranger caught prying in the mysterious FIRST court of the palace. I have read “Bluebeard,” and don’t care for peeping into forbidden doors; so that the second court was quite enough for me; the pleasure of beholding270 it being heightened, as it were, by the notion of the invisible danger sitting next door, with uplifted scimitar ready to fall on you — present though not seen.
A cloister runs along one side of this court; opposite is the hall of the divan271, “large but low, covered with lead, and gilt, after the Moorish272 manner, plain enough.” The Grand Vizier sits in this place, and the ambassadors used to wait here, and be conducted hence on horseback, attired273 with robes of honour. But the ceremony is now, I believe, discontinued; the English envoy274, at any rate, is not allowed to receive any backsheesh, and goes away as he came, in the habit of his own nation. On the right is a door leading into the interior of the Seraglio; NONE PASS THROUGH IT BUT SUCH AS ARE SENT FOR, the Guide-book says: it is impossible to top the terror of that description.
About this door lads and servants were lolling, ichoglans and pages, with lazy looks and shabby dresses; and among them, sunning himself sulkily on a bench, a poor old fat, wrinkled, dismal white eunuch, with little fat white hands, and a great head sunk into his chest, and two sprawling275 little legs that seemed incapable276 to hold up his bloated old body. He squeaked277 out some surly reply to my friend the dragoman, who, softened278 and sweetened by the tarts he had just been devouring279, was, no doubt, anxious to be polite: and the poor worthy fellow walked away rather crestfallen280 at this return of his salutation, and hastened me out of the place.
The palace of the Seraglio, the cloister with marble pillars, the hall of the ambassadors, the impenetrable gate guarded by eunuchs and ichoglans, have a romantic look in print; but not so in reality. Most of the marble is wood, almost all the gilding281 is faded, the guards are shabby, the foolish perspectives painted on the walls are half cracked off. The place looks like Vauxhall in the daytime.
We passed out of the second court under THE SUBLIME PORTE— which is like a fortified282 gate of a German town of the middle ages — into the outer court, round which are public offices, hospitals, and dwellings283 of the multifarious servants of the palace. This place is very wide and picturesque: there is a pretty church of Byzantine architecture at the further end; and in the midst of the court a magnificent plane-tree, of prodigious284 dimensions and fabulous285 age according to the guides; St. Sophia towers in the further distance: and from here, perhaps, is the best view of its light swelling286 domes and beautiful proportions. The Porte itself, too, forms an excellent subject for the sketcher287, if the officers of the court will permit him to design it. I made the attempt, and a couple of Turkish beadles looked on very good-naturedly for some time at the progress of the drawing; but a good number of other spectators speedily joined them, and made a crowd, which is not permitted, it would seem, in the Seraglio; so I was told to pack up my portfolio288, and remove the cause of the disturbance289, and lost my drawing of the Ottoman Porte.
I don’t think I have anything more to say about the city which has not been much better told by graver travellers. I, with them, could see (perhaps it was the preaching of the politicians that warned me of the fact) that we are looking on at the last days of an empire; and heard many stories of weakness, disorder290, and oppression. I even saw a Turkish lady drive up to Sultan Achmet’s mosque IN A BROUGHAM. Is not that a subject to moralise upon? And might one not draw endless conclusions from it, that the knell291 of the Turkish dominion292 is rung; that the European spirit and institutions once admitted can never be rooted out again; and that the scepticism prevalent amongst the higher orders must descend293 ere very long to the lower; and the cry of the muezzin from the mosque become a mere294 ceremony?
But as I only stayed eight days in this place, and knew not a syllable295 of the language, perhaps it is as well to pretermit any disquisitions about the spirit of the people. I can only say that they looked to be very good-natured, handsome, and lazy; that the women’s yellow slippers are very ugly; that the kabobs at the shop hard by the Rope Bazaar are very hot and good; and that at the Armenian cookshops they serve you delicious fish, and a stout296 raisin297 wine of no small merit. There came in, as we sat and dined there at sunset, a good old Turk, who called for a penny fish, and sat down under a tree very humbly298, and ate it with his own bread. We made that jolly old Mussulman happy with a quart of the raisin wine; and his eyes twinkled with every fresh glass, and he wiped his old beard delighted, and talked and chirped299 a good deal, and, I dare say, told us the whole state of the empire. He was the only Mussulman with whom I attained300 any degree of intimacy301 during my stay in Constantinople; and you will see that, for obvious reasons, I cannot divulge302 the particulars of our conversation.
“You have nothing to say, and you own it,” says somebody: “then why write?” That question perhaps (between ourselves) I have put likewise; and yet, my dear sir, there are SOME things worth remembering even in this brief letter: that woman in the brougham is an idea of significance: that comparison of the Seraglio to Vauxhall in the daytime is a true and real one; from both of which your own great soul and ingenious philosophic303 spirit may draw conclusions, that I myself have modestly forborne to press. You are too clever to require a moral to be tacked304 to all the fables305 you read, as is done for children in the spelling-books; else I would tell you that the government of the Ottoman Porte seems to be as rotten, as wrinkled, and as feeble as the old eunuch I saw crawling about it in the sun; that when the lady drove up in a brougham to Sultan Achmet, I felt that the schoolmaster was really abroad; and that the crescent will go out before that luminary306, as meekly307 as the moon does before the sun.
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1
vessel
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| n.船舶；容器，器皿；管，导管，血管 | |
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den
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| n.兽穴；秘密地方；安静的小房间，私室 | |
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3
flakes
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| 小薄片( flake的名词复数 )； （尤指）碎片； 雪花； 古怪的人 | |
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similes
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| （使用like或as等词语的）明喻( simile的名词复数 ) | |
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simile
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| n.直喻，明喻 | |
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melodrama
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| n.音乐剧；情节剧 | |
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7
theatrical
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| adj.剧场的，演戏的；做戏似的，做作的 | |
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8
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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bugles
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| 妙脆角，一种类似薯片但做成尖角或喇叭状的零食； 号角( bugle的名词复数 )； 喇叭； 匍匐筋骨草； （装饰女服用的）柱状玻璃（或塑料）小珠 | |
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10
fiddles
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| n.小提琴( fiddle的名词复数 )；欺诈；（需要运用手指功夫的）细巧活动；当第二把手v.伪造( fiddle的第三人称单数 )；篡改；骗取；修理或稍作改动 | |
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11
cymbals
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| pl.铙钹 | |
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12
meandered
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| （指溪流、河流等）蜿蜒而流( meander的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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13
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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14
awakened
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| v.（使）醒( awaken的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）觉醒；弄醒；（使）意识到 | |
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15
enjoyment
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| n.乐趣；享有；享用 | |
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enjoyments
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| 愉快( enjoyment的名词复数 )； 令人愉快的事物； 享有； 享受 | |
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panorama
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| n.全景，全景画，全景摄影，全景照片[装置] | |
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likeness
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| n.相像，相似（之处） | |
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warriors
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| 武士，勇士，战士( warrior的名词复数 ) | |
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winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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affected
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| adj.不自然的，假装的 | |
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mosque
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| n.清真寺 | |
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minaret
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| n.（回教寺院的）尖塔 | |
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cypress
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| n.柏树 | |
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forth
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| adv.向前；向外，往外 | |
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depict
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| vt.描画，描绘；描写，描述 | |
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gilt
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| adj.镀金的；n.金边证券 | |
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28
surmounting
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| 战胜( surmount的现在分词 )； 克服（困难）； 居于…之上； 在…顶上 | |
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29
dome
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| n.圆屋顶，拱顶 | |
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ply
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| v.(搬运工等)等候顾客，弯曲 | |
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sublime
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| adj.崇高的，伟大的；极度的，不顾后果的 | |
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domes
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| n.圆屋顶( dome的名词复数 )；像圆屋顶一样的东西；圆顶体育场 | |
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shipping
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| n.船运（发货，运输，乘船） | |
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pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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inspection
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| n.检查，审查，检阅 | |
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beheld
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| v.看，注视( behold的过去式和过去分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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picturesquely
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39
velvet
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| n.丝绒，天鹅绒；adj.丝绒制的，柔软的 | |
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ornaments
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| n.装饰( ornament的名词复数 )；点缀；装饰品；首饰v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的第三人称单数 ) | |
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41
jut
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| v.突出；n.突出，突出物 | |
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42
rugged
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| adj.高低不平的，粗糙的，粗壮的，强健的 | |
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43
ascend
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| vi.渐渐上升，升高；vt.攀登，登上 | |
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44
speculation
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| n.思索，沉思；猜测；投机 | |
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45
levied
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| 征（兵）( levy的过去式和过去分词 )； 索取； 发动（战争）； 征税 | |
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46
quays
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| 码头( quay的名词复数 ) | |
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soot
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| n.煤烟，烟尘；vt.熏以煤烟 | |
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48
bustling
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| adj.喧闹的 | |
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49
scudding
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| n.刮面v.（尤指船、舰或云彩）笔直、高速而平稳地移动( scud的现在分词 ) | |
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50
plying
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| v.使用（工具）( ply的现在分词 )；经常供应（食物、饮料）；固定往来；经营生意 | |
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51
specimen
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| n.样本，标本 | |
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52
brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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53
squat
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| v.蹲坐，蹲下；n.蹲下；adj.矮胖的，粗矮的 | |
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54
tassel
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| n.流苏，穗；v.抽穗， （玉米）长穗须 | |
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55
placid
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| adj.安静的，平和的 | |
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56
oars
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| n.桨，橹( oar的名词复数 )；划手v.划（行）( oar的第三人称单数 ) | |
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57
tugging
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| n.牵引感v.用力拉，使劲拉，猛扯( tug的现在分词 ) | |
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58
cannon
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| n.大炮，火炮；飞机上的机关炮 | |
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59
flaunting
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| adj.招摇的，扬扬得意的，夸耀的v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的现在分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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60
moored
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| adj. 系泊的 动词moor的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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61
groves
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| 树丛，小树林( grove的名词复数 ) | |
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62
minarets
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| n.（清真寺旁由报告祈祷时刻的人使用的）光塔( minaret的名词复数 ) | |
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63
spired
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| v.（教堂的） 塔尖，尖顶( spire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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64
mosques
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| 清真寺； 伊斯兰教寺院，清真寺； 清真寺，伊斯兰教寺院( mosque的名词复数 ) | |
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65
delightful
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| adj.令人高兴的，使人快乐的 | |
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66
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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67
perusing
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| v.读（某篇文字）( peruse的现在分词 )；（尤指）细阅；审阅；匆匆读或心不在焉地浏览（某篇文字） | |
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68
admiration
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| n.钦佩，赞美，羡慕 | |
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69
bosom
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| n.胸，胸部；胸怀；内心；adj.亲密的 | |
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70
impartial
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| adj.(in,to)公正的，无偏见的 | |
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71
stony
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| adj.石头的，多石头的，冷酷的，无情的 | |
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72
chivalrous
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| adj.武士精神的；对女人彬彬有礼的 | |
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73
voluptuous
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| adj.肉欲的，骄奢淫逸的 | |
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74
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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75
spacious
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| adj.广阔的，宽敞的 | |
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76
ornamented
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| adj.花式字体的v.装饰，点缀，美化( ornament的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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77
profuse
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| adj.很多的，大量的，极其丰富的 | |
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78
reposing
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| v.将（手臂等）靠在某人（某物）上( repose的现在分词 ) | |
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79
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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80
modesty
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| n.谦逊，虚心，端庄，稳重，羞怯，朴素 | |
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81
neatly
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| adv.整洁地，干净地，灵巧地，熟练地 | |
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82
divested
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| v.剥夺( divest的过去式和过去分词 )；脱去（衣服）；2。从…取去…；1。（给某人）脱衣服 | |
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83
linen
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| n.亚麻布，亚麻线，亚麻制品；adj.亚麻布制的，亚麻的 | |
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84
precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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85
agility
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| n.敏捷，活泼 | |
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86
pall
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| v.覆盖，使平淡无味；n.柩衣，棺罩；棺材；帷幕 | |
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87
oozing
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| v.（浓液等）慢慢地冒出，渗出( ooze的现在分词 )；使（液体）缓缓流出；（浓液）渗出，慢慢流出 | |
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88
domed
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| adj. 圆屋顶的, 半球形的, 拱曲的 动词dome的过去式和过去分词形式 | |
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89
frantic
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| adj.狂乱的，错乱的，激昂的 | |
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90
followers
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| 追随者( follower的名词复数 )； 用户； 契据的附面； 从动件 | |
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91
Christian
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| adj.基督教徒的；n.基督教徒 | |
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92
slab
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| n.平板，厚的切片；v.切成厚板，以平板盖上 | |
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93
vaulted
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| adj.拱状的 | |
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94
wretch
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| n.可怜的人，不幸的人；卑鄙的人 | |
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95
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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96
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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97
jargon
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| n.术语，行话 | |
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98
bristling
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| a.竖立的 | |
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99
frightful
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| adj.可怕的；讨厌的 | |
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100
odious
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| adj.可憎的，讨厌的 | |
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101
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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102
lather
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| n.(肥皂水的)泡沫，激动 | |
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103
wig
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| n.假发 | |
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104
remonstrate
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| v.抗议，规劝 | |
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105
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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106
jeered
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| v.嘲笑( jeer的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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107
languor
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| n.无精力，倦怠 | |
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108
shamefully
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| 可耻地； 丢脸地； 不体面地； 羞耻地 | |
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109
maligned
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| vt.污蔑，诽谤（malign的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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110
foul
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| adj.污秽的；邪恶的；v.弄脏；妨害；犯规；n.犯规 | |
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111
plunged
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| v.颠簸( plunge的过去式和过去分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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112
coffin
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| n.棺材，灵柩 | |
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113
relish
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| n.滋味，享受，爱好，调味品；vt.加调味料，享受，品味；vi.有滋味 | |
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114
hideous
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| adj.丑陋的，可憎的，可怕的，恐怖的 | |
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115
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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116
tickling
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| 反馈，回授，自旋挠痒法 | |
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117
remarkable
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| adj.显著的，异常的，非凡的，值得注意的 | |
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118
promenade
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| n./v.散步 | |
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119
exertion
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| n.尽力，努力 | |
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120
carousing
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| v.痛饮，闹饮欢宴( carouse的现在分词 ) | |
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121
illuminated
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| adj.被照明的；受启迪的 | |
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122
dingy
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| adj.昏暗的，肮脏的 | |
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123
trump
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| n.王牌，法宝；v.打出王牌，吹喇叭 | |
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124
bastard
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| n.坏蛋，混蛋；私生子 | |
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125
insolent
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| adj.傲慢的，无理的 | |
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126
prancing
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| v.（马）腾跃( prance的现在分词 ) | |
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127
prattling
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| v.（小孩般）天真无邪地说话( prattle的现在分词 )；发出连续而无意义的声音；闲扯；东拉西扯 | |
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128
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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129
underneath
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| adj.在...下面，在...底下；adv.在下面 | |
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130
guardians
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| 监护人( guardian的名词复数 )； 保护者，维护者 | |
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131
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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132
touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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133
intervals
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| n.[军事]间隔( interval的名词复数 )；间隔时间；[数学]区间；（戏剧、电影或音乐会的）幕间休息 | |
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134
monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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135
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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136
majestic
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| adj.雄伟的，壮丽的，庄严的，威严的，崇高的 | |
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137
wink
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| n.眨眼，使眼色，瞬间；v.眨眼，使眼色，闪烁 | |
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138
debauch
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| v.使堕落，放纵 | |
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139
countenance
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| n.脸色，面容；面部表情；vt.支持，赞同 | |
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140
premature
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| adj.比预期时间早的；不成熟的，仓促的 | |
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141
conspire
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| v.密谋，（事件等）巧合，共同导致 | |
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142
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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143
gendarmes
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| n.宪兵，警官( gendarme的名词复数 ) | |
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144
throng
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| n.人群，群众；v.拥挤，群集 | |
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145
tragic
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| adj.悲剧的，悲剧性的，悲惨的 | |
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146
passionate
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| adj.热情的，热烈的，激昂的，易动情的，易怒的，性情暴躁的 | |
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147
groans
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| n.呻吟，叹息( groan的名词复数 )；呻吟般的声音v.呻吟( groan的第三人称单数 )；发牢骚；抱怨；受苦 | |
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148
hemmed
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| 缝…的褶边( hem的过去式和过去分词 )； 包围 | |
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149
hustled
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| 催促（hustle的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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150
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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151
ennui
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| n.怠倦，无聊 | |
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152
consolations
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| n.安慰，慰问( consolation的名词复数 )；起安慰作用的人（或事物） | |
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153
wager
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| n.赌注；vt.押注，打赌 | |
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154
genial
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| adj.亲切的，和蔼的，愉快的，脾气好的 | |
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155
soothing
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| adj.慰藉的；使人宽心的；镇静的 | |
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156
misery
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| n.痛苦，苦恼，苦难；悲惨的境遇，贫苦 | |
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157
humility
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| n.谦逊，谦恭 | |
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158
rogue
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| n.流氓；v.游手好闲 | |
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159
abominable
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| adj.可厌的，令人憎恶的 | |
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160
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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161
blessing
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| n.祈神赐福；祷告；祝福，祝愿 | |
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162
ravenous
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| adj.极饿的，贪婪的 | |
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163
edifice
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| n.宏伟的建筑物(如宫殿，教室) | |
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164
gilded
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| a.镀金的，富有的 | |
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165
porticoes
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| n.柱廊，（有圆柱的）门廊( portico的名词复数 ) | |
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166
trophies
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| n.（为竞赛获胜者颁发的）奖品( trophy的名词复数 )；奖杯；（尤指狩猎或战争中获得的）纪念品；（用于比赛或赛跑名称）奖 | |
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167
filigreed
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| adj.饰有金银丝细工的v.（用金丝等制成的）精工制品( filigree的过去式和过去分词 )；精致的物品 | |
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168
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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169
gaudy
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| adj.华而不实的；俗丽的 | |
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170
celebrated
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| adj.有名的，声誉卓著的 | |
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171
touchingly
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| adv.令人同情地，感人地，动人地 | |
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172
paternal
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| adj.父亲的，像父亲的，父系的，父方的 | |
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173
melodious
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| adj.旋律美妙的，调子优美的，音乐性的 | |
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174
panegyric
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| n.颂词，颂扬 | |
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175
inmates
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| n.囚犯( inmate的名词复数 ) | |
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176
obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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177
seclusion
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| n.隐遁，隔离 | |
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178
pious
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| adj.虔诚的；道貌岸然的 | |
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179
cemeteries
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| n.（非教堂的）墓地，公墓( cemetery的名词复数 ) | |
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180
cisterns
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| n.蓄水池，储水箱( cistern的名词复数 )；地下储水池 | |
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181
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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182
Christians
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| n.基督教徒( Christian的名词复数 ) | |
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183
coffins
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| n.棺材( coffin的名词复数 )；使某人早亡[死，完蛋，垮台等]之物 | |
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184
defunct
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| adj.死亡的；已倒闭的 | |
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185
monarchs
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| 君主，帝王( monarch的名词复数 ) | |
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186
embroidered
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| adj．绣花的 | |
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187
inscription
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| n.（尤指石块上的）刻印文字，铭文，碑文 | |
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188
dismal
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| adj.阴沉的，凄凉的，令人忧郁的，差劲的 | |
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189
palls
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| n.柩衣( pall的名词复数 )；墓衣；棺罩；深色或厚重的覆盖物v.（因过多或过久而）生厌，感到乏味，厌烦( pall的第三人称单数 ) | |
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190
bereaved
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| adj.刚刚丧失亲人的v.使失去（希望、生命等）( bereave的过去式和过去分词)；（尤指死亡）使丧失（亲人、朋友等）；使孤寂；抢走（财物） | |
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191
outright
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| adv.坦率地；彻底地；立即；adj.无疑的；彻底的 | |
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192
calamity
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| n.灾害，祸患，不幸事件 | |
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193
rebuked
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| 责难或指责( rebuke的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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194
perjurer
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| n.伪誓者，伪证者 | |
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195
depicted
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| 描绘，描画( depict的过去式和过去分词 )； 描述 | |
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196
agitating
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| 搅动( agitate的现在分词 )； 激怒； 使焦虑不安； （尤指为法律、社会状况的改变而）激烈争论 | |
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197
inflict
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| vt.(on)把…强加给，使遭受，使承担 | |
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198
martyr
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| n.烈士，殉难者；vt.杀害，折磨，牺牲 | |
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199
misgivings
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| n.疑虑，担忧，害怕；疑虑，担心，恐惧( misgiving的名词复数 )；疑惧 | |
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200
prettily
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| adv.优美地；可爱地 | |
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201
ascends
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| v.上升，攀登( ascend的第三人称单数 ) | |
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202
procures
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| v.（努力）取得， （设法）获得( procure的第三人称单数 )；拉皮条 | |
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203
abortions
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| n.小产( abortion的名词复数 )；小产胎儿；（计划）等中止或夭折；败育 | |
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204
throttles
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| n.控制油、气流的阀门( throttle的名词复数 )；喉咙，气管v.扼杀( throttle的第三人称单数 )；勒死；使窒息；压制 | |
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205
dwindles
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| v.逐渐变少或变小( dwindle的第三人称单数 ) | |
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206
insignificance
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| n.不重要；无价值；无意义 | |
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207
smirk
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| n.得意地笑；v.傻笑；假笑着说 | |
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208
rascal
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| n.流氓；不诚实的人 | |
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209
animated
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| adj.生气勃勃的，活跃的，愉快的 | |
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210
wilderness
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| n.杳无人烟的一片陆地、水等，荒漠 | |
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211
antiquities
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| n.古老( antiquity的名词复数 )；古迹；古人们；古代的风俗习惯 | |
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212
slippers
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| n. 拖鞋 | |
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213
cloister
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| n.修道院；v.隐退，使与世隔绝 | |
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214
aromatic
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| adj.芳香的，有香味的 | |
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215
barley
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| n.大麦，大麦粒 | |
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216
sumptuous
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| adj.豪华的，奢侈的，华丽的 | |
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217
molestation
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| n.骚扰，干扰，调戏；折磨 | |
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218
gadding
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| n.叮搔症adj.蔓生的v.闲逛( gad的现在分词 )；游荡；找乐子；用铁棒刺 | |
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219
immorality
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| n. 不道德, 无道义 | |
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220
follies
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| 罪恶，时事讽刺剧； 愚蠢，蠢笨，愚蠢的行为、思想或做法( folly的名词复数 ) | |
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221
muffled
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| adj.（声音）被隔的；听不太清的；（衣服）裹严的；蒙住的v.压抑，捂住( muffle的过去式和过去分词 )；用厚厚的衣帽包着（自己） | |
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222
bazaar
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| n.集市，商店集中区 | |
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223
tinged
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| v.（使）发丁丁声( ting的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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224
contortions
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| n.扭歪，弯曲；扭曲，弄歪，歪曲( contortion的名词复数 ) | |
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225
leech
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| n.水蛭，吸血鬼，榨取他人利益的人；vt.以水蛭吸血；vi.依附于别人 | |
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226
complexion
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| n.肤色；情况，局面；气质，性格 | |
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227
bevy
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| n.一群 | |
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228
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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229
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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230
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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231
ERECTED
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| adj. 直立的，竖立的，笔直的 vt. 使 ... 直立，建立 | |
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232
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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233
regularity
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| n.规律性，规则性；匀称，整齐 | |
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234
invalids
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| 病人，残疾者( invalid的名词复数 ) | |
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235
wholesome
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| adj.适合；卫生的；有益健康的；显示身心健康的 | |
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236
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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237
evergreens
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| n.常青树，常绿植物，万年青( evergreen的名词复数 ) | |
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238
prying
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| adj.爱打听的v.打听，刺探（他人的私事）( pry的现在分词 )；撬开 | |
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239
diversified
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| adj.多样化的，多种经营的v.使多样化，多样化( diversify的过去式和过去分词 )；进入新的商业领域 | |
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240
homely
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| adj.家常的，简朴的；不漂亮的 | |
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241
worthy
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| adj.(of)值得的，配得上的；有价值的 | |
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242
brutes
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| 兽( brute的名词复数 )； 畜生； 残酷无情的人； 兽性 | |
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243
downwards
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| adj./adv.向下的（地），下行的（地） | |
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244
savage
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| adj.野蛮的；凶恶的，残暴的；n.未开化的人 | |
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245
grandeur
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| n.伟大，崇高，宏伟，庄严，豪华 | |
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246
primitive
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| adj.原始的；简单的；n.原(始)人，原始事物 | |
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247
apertures
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| n.孔( aperture的名词复数 )；隙缝；（照相机的）光圈；孔径 | |
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248
mingles
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| 混合，混入( mingle的第三人称单数 )； 混进，与…交往[联系] | |
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249
murkily
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| adv.阴暗地；混浊地；可疑地；黝暗地 | |
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250
pastry
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| n.油酥面团，酥皮糕点 | |
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251
courteously
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| adv.有礼貌地，亲切地 | |
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252
delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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253
puffs
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| n.吸( puff的名词复数 )；（烟斗或香烟的）一吸；一缕（烟、蒸汽等）；（呼吸或风的）呼v.使喷出( puff的第三人称单数 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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254
dough
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| n.生面团；钱，现款 | |
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255
circumference
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| n.圆周，周长，圆周线 | |
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256
drenched
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| adj.湿透的；充满的v.使湿透( drench的过去式和过去分词 )；在某人（某物）上大量使用（某液体） | |
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257
profusely
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| ad.abundantly | |
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258
syrup
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| n.糖浆，糖水 | |
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259
delectable
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| adj.使人愉快的；美味的 | |
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260
devour
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| v.吞没；贪婪地注视或谛听，贪读；使着迷 | |
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261
allude
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| v.提及，暗指 | |
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262
inevitably
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| adv.不可避免地；必然发生地 | |
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263
copper
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| n.铜；铜币；铜器；adj.铜(制)的；(紫)铜色的 | |
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264
greasy
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| adj. 多脂的，油脂的 | |
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265
dubious
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| adj.怀疑的，无把握的；有问题的，靠不住的 | |
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266
tarts
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| n.果馅饼( tart的名词复数 )；轻佻的女人；妓女；小妞 | |
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267
imbibing
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| v.吸收( imbibe的现在分词 )；喝；吸取；吸气 | |
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268
jaws
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| n.口部；嘴 | |
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269
exalted
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| adj.(地位等)高的，崇高的；尊贵的，高尚的 | |
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270
beholding
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| v.看，注视( behold的现在分词 )；瞧；看呀；（叙述中用于引出某人意外的出现）哎哟 | |
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271
divan
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| n.长沙发；（波斯或其他东方诗人的）诗集 | |
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272
moorish
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| adj.沼地的，荒野的，生[住]在沼地的 | |
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273
attired
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| adj.穿着整齐的v.使穿上衣服，使穿上盛装( attire的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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274
envoy
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| n.使节，使者，代表，公使 | |
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275
sprawling
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| adj.蔓生的，不规则地伸展的v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的现在分词 )；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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276
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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277
squeaked
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| v.短促地尖叫( squeak的过去式和过去分词 )；吱吱叫；告密；充当告密者 | |
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278
softened
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| （使）变软( soften的过去式和过去分词 )； 缓解打击； 缓和； 安慰 | |
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279
devouring
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| 吞没( devour的现在分词 )； 耗尽； 津津有味地看； 狼吞虎咽地吃光 | |
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280
crestfallen
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| adj. 挫败的，失望的，沮丧的 | |
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281
gilding
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| n.贴金箔，镀金 | |
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282
fortified
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| adj. 加强的 | |
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283
dwellings
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| n.住处，处所( dwelling的名词复数 ) | |
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284
prodigious
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| adj.惊人的，奇妙的；异常的；巨大的；庞大的 | |
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285
fabulous
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| adj.极好的；极为巨大的；寓言中的，传说中的 | |
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286
swelling
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| n.肿胀 | |
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287
sketcher
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| n.画略图者，作素描者，舞台布景设计者 | |
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288
portfolio
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| n.公事包；文件夹；大臣及部长职位 | |
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289
disturbance
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| n.动乱，骚动；打扰，干扰；(身心)失调 | |
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290
disorder
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| n.紊乱，混乱；骚动，骚乱；疾病，失调 | |
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291
knell
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| n.丧钟声；v.敲丧钟 | |
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292
dominion
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| n.统治，管辖，支配权；领土，版图 | |
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293
descend
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| vt./vi.传下来，下来，下降 | |
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294
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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295
syllable
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| n.音节；vt.分音节 | |
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297
raisin
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| n.葡萄干 | |
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298
humbly
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| adv. 恭顺地，谦卑地 | |
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299
chirped
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| 鸟叫，虫鸣( chirp的过去式 ) | |
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300
attained
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| （通常经过努力）实现( attain的过去式和过去分词 )； 达到； 获得； 达到（某年龄、水平、状况） | |
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301
intimacy
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| n.熟悉，亲密，密切关系，亲昵的言行 | |
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302
divulge
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| v.泄漏(秘密等)；宣布，公布 | |
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303
philosophic
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| adj.哲学的，贤明的 | |
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304
tacked
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| 用平头钉钉( tack的过去式和过去分词 )； 附加，增补； 帆船抢风行驶，用粗线脚缝 | |
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305
fables
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| n.寓言( fable的名词复数 )；神话，传说 | |
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306
luminary
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| n.名人，天体 | |
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307
meekly
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| adv.温顺地，逆来顺受地 | |
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