One day being in company with the Sháh he presented me with the purest wine. I said, “By God! with God! through God! and by Ali’s purest spirit, since I was born I never drank wine or any other spirituous liquor, and since our great ancestor Khoja Ahmed Yessúí, none of our family have ate or drank any thing of an intoxicating quality. I beg, therefore, to be excused by you.” The Khán said, “My beloved and darling brother, what are you afraid of; if it is of your Emperor, he is five months journey from you; if it is of your Khán (the Páshá), it is forty days distance from Erzerúm to Tabríz. The Khán of the Sháh of Irán and the dog of Alí, my Sháh, has expressly forbidden me to drink a drop of wine; what do I care for that, I drink it secretly and delight in it; follow my example.” I said, “Very well, my Khán, if your Sháh has prohibited it to you, it is prohibited to me by the express command of the Sháh of Sháhs, the Lord of Lords, who says in the Korán, ‘wine, gaming and fortune-telling are Satan’s work:’ it is of this Lord, that I am afraid.” “You are,” said the Khán, “a rigorous Methodist (Mutea-assib).” “By God!” replied I, “I am no Methodist but only a true follower of the orthodox sect of Na’amán Ben Thábet, and a true lover of the Prophet’s family.” At this reply the whole company became silent, the Khán rose up with all his youthful attendants, and sitting down close to me, he said, “My dear Evliyá Aghá, which of these my favourite servants would you like to have, I will make you a present of him if you drink a cup of wine out of his hand. Come drink a glass, if you love red Alí and the twelve Imáms; let us be warm of head and tender of heart, let us enjoy a moment of delight in this perishable world.” So saying, all the youths came to salute me, and I returned their salutes; yet did I implore at the same time Heaven’s assistance, and then said, in answer to his further pressing requests; “You drink wine to get into good humour, but the first thing is to be good-humoured in God; I beg you will let me have a half-drum to accompany my own song, in order to show you how people get good-humoured in God.” “Be it so,” said he, “for Alí’s sake bring a half-drum to Evliyá, my brother;” I took it, and sang three tetrastichs on Divine Love, in the tune Sigáh, which made all the hearers appear as though they were drunk. The Khán, being extremely pleased, invested me with his own sable pelisse, gave me a thousand praises, and a Georgian slave as a present, ten tománs of Abbássí, and a racehorse (Karajubúk). “Now,” said he, “I will not plague you any more with a request to drink wine,” and I continued to enjoy his conversation undisturbed during a whole month, feasting every night. I spent this time observing all that was worth seeing at Tabríz, the good order and government of which is worthy of all possible recommendation. The inhabitants are merry, but orderly people, and I never saw a drunkard in the streets. It is in