He, therefore, honestly advised me to stay there. Wishing with my whole heart to make the excursion and see Constantinople, I kissed the aga’s hand, and besought him, for God’s sake, to take me also with him. He said to me:—“If thou wilt have it so, thou shalt come with us, but I do not promise thee that thou wilt return.” Thus we got into the boat and sailed to Constantinople, landed from the boat, and went into the city, where a great concourse of the Turkish mob surrounded us, asking who and whence we were? But our aga answered them himself, and forbad us to say a word. Having very long hair flowing over my shoulders, and being beardless, I was the most tormented; for one pulled me by the hair, another stared in my face, a third talked to me, and asked me who I was; but the aga seeing this, and fearing for me, did not venture to take me into the divan: but going to the church of St. Sophia, left me there with two Turks, under a projection of the roof, where some lime was lying, and ordered me to sit down on the ground, that the Turks going that way might not see me. He, likewise, ordered my two guards to give heed to me, otherwise, as Cykula Pasha, an Italian renegade, had gone to the council that day, I should certainly fall into some danger if I went with the rest to the council. Though unwillingly, I nevertheless remained there, and the aga’s idea was not far wrong. For, as soon as my companions entered the divan, Cykula Pasha asked:—“Where is the Viennese ambassador’s boy, that he is not with these?” The aga answered:—“He has been seriously ill for several weeks, and I know not whether he will be still alive when we return; moreover, he is covered with such an eruption that it is painful to look at him.”
