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 sprawling little legs that seemed incapable to hold
up his bloated old body. He squeaked out some surly reply to my
friend the dragoman, who, softened and sweetened by the tarts he
had just been devouring, was, no doubt, anxious to be polite: and
the poor worthy fellow walked away rather crestfallen 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 gilding 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 fortified gate of a German town of the middle ages - into the
outer court, round which are public offices, hospitals, and
dwellings of the multifarious servants of the palace.
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