Some of the _Grecians_ play’d a pretty prank with the Sultan on this Account. When they knew that he was to pass through a Road full of Vineyards on both sides, they set a great many Labourers at work to root out the Vines; some of them they laid in the Highway; others they loaded on Carts. The Emperor passing by, and demanding the Reason for so doing, they answered, That since by his Edict they were forbid the use of Wine, they were cutting down their Vines to make Fuel for the Fire. For shame, says _Solyman_, forbear! you do not understand my Command aright; though I forbid the use of Wine, yet I allow the eating of Grapes, as one of the best Fruits that God hath allotted to Mankind; only you are not to squeeze out their Juice, and tun it up in Hogsheads, and so you may make a pernicious use of it. What will you cut down Apple-trees also, because they bear not Wine? Get you gone you Buzzards, and spare your Vines! Thus the _Greeks_ were fool’d in their Project. But to return to the Story of the Pestilence which was within the Walls of my House. I went to _Rustan_ to beg leave for me and my Family to remove into a less contagious Air; this I desired not with any great confidence of obtaining my Request, (for I knew the Rigidness of his Nature,) but only to shew my care for the Health of my Family. He told the Messenger, he would acquaint _Solyman_ with my Desire, and, if I came the next Day, I should have his Answer. Accordingly I sent and received this from him; that the Emperor wondered what I mean in desiring to move my Habitation; Is not the Pestilence God’s Arrow, which will always hit his Mark? If God would visit me herewith, how could I avoid it? Is not the Plague, said he, in my own palace, and yet I do not think of removing? And so I was forced to stay in a Pestilential and Infected House.