The dress of the ladies is composed nearly of the same parts as that of the men. The hair is usually disposed in a number of little plaits, each surrounded by a band of pearls, and diamonds hang down among them; sometimes the plaits are fewer, and sometimes it is left in a natural state; in all it appears to be dyed nearly of one colour, a dark brown, inclining when seen by daylight to purple. On the top of the head there is a sort of small cap, made of pearls, and frequently with an ornament of diamonds in front; this is generally bordered by one, two, or three rows of gold coins. A white handkerchief conceals the neck, and the opening which this leaves below the throat, is occupied by a pearl necklace, forming a sort of web, and this also is sometimes bordered by gold coins. The under garment appears only at the wrist, sometimes of white, embroidered silk, hanging loose; sometimes confined by a succession of pearl bracelets. The gown has loose sleeves; over this is a cloak, of which the upper part is usually of fur, the lower has pieces of satin, or rather, I believe of a web of gold and silk of various patterns let into it, which is no improvement. The ladies present at the ball were not in general handsome, but there were pretty women amongst them, or rather some who had been pretty, for no unmarried woman appears on these occasions. As for the dress of the Turkish women, I can tell you of nothing but quite the outside. When we meet them in the streets, they are enveloped in a long cloak, over which a white shawl is worn, covering the upper part of the body, and the head; and passing close under the nose. Under this white shawl appears a black veil, which covers the front part of the head, and the upper part of the face; the projection of the nose at its junction with the white shawl, just gives them a hole to peep and breathe through, but nothing is seen. In spite however, of all these precautions, they generally turn to the wall when they meet me. Nothing can be more ugly than this head-dress. The Greek women are prohibited from wearing it, but I have no doubt that if permitted they would put it on, for the ambition of the Greeks is to dress like the Turks. My Greek master, whom I thought the quietest, dullest, and meekest animal that ever existed, put on the dress of a Turk, and with it seemed to have put on his confidence and presumption. Somebody told him he looked well in that dress; and his answer was, that they ought not to admire his assumed character, which was little deserving of esteem, but that which he really possessed, and was natural to him, and which merited all their admiration. In the morning he borrowed my coat to act the Frank, and I heard he had chosen to represent himself as a consul, “because he was a lover of glory, and a paltry character did not please him.” I find since that he is a poet, and he has given me some verses in praise of the vizir, or pashaw of