“Sultán Ahmed said, ‘Look Mohammed, Osmán is thy brother, and yet he has hurt thee, this is the course of the world: strike him in your turn.’ He wiped his blood off, and having seated him at the foot of the throne, he asked him, ‘Will you conquer Creta, Mohammed?’ Mohammed said, ‘I will, but my brother Osmán sheds my blood; if it is not me, another Mohammed will finish the conquest begun by me.’ The Senior of the Surgeons, Ibrahím said, ‘Praise be to God, what secrets are revealed to-day! but nobody yet understands them.’ Now the Princes continued to play at ball; Bayazíd and Súleimán were chasing each other, when all at once, Prince Murad sallied forth from the place called the black cypress, and threw a ball at them, which hurt them both, so that blood dropped from their noses. Sultán Ahmed said, ‘My Murad, why dost thou beat thy brethren so.’ The Prince replied, ‘It was not my intention, but such is the play of the world, I was obliged to do it because they gained upon me, and were going to take my place!’ Omer Gulshení said, ‘There is also some mystery in that.’ Now came Prince Ibrahím in a ruby-coloured dress: Sultán Ahmed asked him, ‘Where have you been my Ibrahím?’ ‘I,’ said he, ‘have taken the ablution of martyrdom, and am now come to wrestle and play with all my brethren.’ He entered wildly and threw a ball at Sultán Osmán’s head, so that he knocked off his turban and set him crying. Prince Murad now threw a ball at Ibrahím, which he received undaunted, feigned to direct his ball at Bayazíd, but turned round in a moment, and threw it at Murad with such violence, that he was for some time senseless. Ibrahím now ran to his father’s throne, sat at the foot of it, and said, ‘Have I not aimed a good ball at Murad,’ and then fell to indelicate play. Murad was crying on the ground, saying, ‘I had rather died, than have been beaten in that way by Ibrahím!’ The play continuing, to the surprise of all the beholders, Murad again pursued Ibrahím, and threw the ball at him, which he received as boldly as the first time, and retreated under the throne, from whence he then issued without his turban and in a state of undress. Sultán Ahmed caught hold of his ear, and said, ‘Wilt thou conquer Creta, and make of it an endowment for my mosque for Mecca and Medina.’ The Prince said, ‘If God assists me, and helps me, in God’s name, and if it pleases God, my son Yússúf shall conquer it under Yússúf the Prophet’s favour!’ All who were present now said a Fátihah that this might happen, and Sultán Ahmed said, ‘Now, how curious it is, that I am fallen into melancholy since the Venetian letter has been read, that wishing to divert myself with my children’s play, they got bloody necks and noses, and made me more melancholy than before, till Ibrahím has at once chased away my spleen by saying that he will conquer Creta by his son.’ God’s mercy on Sultán Ahmed! All that had been foreshewn in this play, really happened.