me, and as I was related to him on my mother’s side, he made me many presents. He, the Rúznámehjí Ibrahím Efendí, and the calligrapher Hasan Páshá, were the means of my obtaining an introduction into the seráï. On the day I was dressed as above related, with the splendid turban, two mutes came, and with many curious motions led me into the Khás oda (inner chamber), to Melek Ahmed Aghá and his predecessor Mustafá. These greatly encouraged me and taught me several expressions and ceremonies, which I was to observe in the presence of the emperor. I now found myself in the Khás oda, and had an opportunity of examining it. It is a large room with a cupola; in each corner there are raised seats or thrones; numerous windows and balconies; fountains and water-basins, and the floor is paved with stone of various colours, like a Chinese gallery of pictures. The emperor now made his appearance, like the rising sun, by the door leading to the inner harem. He saluted the forty pages of the inner chamber and all the Musáhib (associates), who returned the salutation with prayers for his prosperity. The emperor having with great dignity seated himself on one of the thrones, I kissed the ground before it, and trembled all over. The next moment, however, I complimented him with some verses that most fortunately came into my mind. He then desired me to read something. I said, “I am versed in seventy-two sciences, does your majesty wish to hear something of Persian, Arabic, Romaic, Hebrew, Syriac, Greek, or Turkish? Something of the different tunes of music, or poetry in various measures?” The emperor said, “What a boasting fellow this is! Is he a Revání (a prattling fellow), and is this all mere nonsense, or is he capable to perform all that he says?” I replied, “If your majesty will please to grant me permission to speak freely as a Nadím (familiar companion), I think I shall be able to amuse you.” The emperor asked what the office of a Nadím was: “A Nadím,” said I, “is a gentleman who converses in a pleasing manner: but if he is permitted to drink with the emperor, he is called Nadím náb, or companion of the glass. Nadím is derived from Monadamat, and by a transposition of letters we have Mudám, which in Arabic signifies pure wine. If such a Nadím is permitted to enjoy the company of the emperor, he is called Musáhíb (intimate companion).” “Bravo! said the Sultán, “he understands his business and is no Revání.” “Revání indeed!” replied I, looking at the same time towards Yúsuf Páshá, the late Khán of Reván (Eriván). The emperor struck his knees with his hand, and burst out in such a fit of laughter that his face became quite red; then addressing Emírgúneh, his favourite musician, he said: “What do you think of this devil of a boy?” Yúsuf Páshá said, “Mark this youth, he will very soon astonish all Irán and Túrán, for his eyes are constantly dancing.” “Yes,” said I, “the eyes of Turkish boys dance in order to excite mirth in