Those who saw Solyman’s face in this hour of triumph failed to detect in it the slightest trace of undue elation. I can myself positively declare, that when I saw him two days later on his way to the mosque, the expression of his countenance was unchanged: his stern features had lost nothing of their habitual gloom; one would have thought that the victory concerned him not, and that this startling success of his arms had caused him no surprise. So self-contained was the heart of that grand old man, so schooled to meet each change of Fortune however great, that all the applause and triumph of that day wrung from him no sign of satisfaction. A few days afterwards the prisoners were conducted to the Palace. The poor fellows were half dead from the privations they had undergone. The greater part could scarcely stand on their feet; many fell down from weakness and fainted; some were actually dying. They were insulted and hustled on the way, and compelled to wear their armour with the front turned to the back like so many scarecrows. Around them were heard the voices of the Turks, who taunted them, and promised themselves the dominion of the world. For now that the Spaniard had been conquered, they said, what enemy was left that could be feared? There was in that expedition a Turkish officer of the highest rank, with whom I was acquainted. The first or royal standard of the Neapolitan galleys, bearing the arms of all the provinces of the Kings of Spain quartered with the Imperial Eagle, had fallen into his hands. When I heard that he meant to present it to Solyman, I determined to make an effort to anticipate him and get possession of it. The matter was easily arranged by my sending him a present of two silk dresses. Thus I prevented the glorious coat-of-arms of Charles V. from remaining with the enemy as a perpetual memorial of that defeat.