rs, rifles, long guns; in a word, every
species of offensive and defensive weapon, from the common musket of the
English soldier to the stiff bow of the Persian, were here gathered
together from every kingdom of the East and West. [Sidenote: DAMASCUS
SWORD BLADES.] A fat Turk, squatting on his counter, tempts you, on one
hand, with a blade of the rarest Damascus steel, inscribed from hilt to
point with some verse from the Koran in Arabic letters of gold; such as
an invocation to the one God,--"Strength to the arm who wields the blade
in a righteous cause, and death to him it reaches," &c. Drawing the
sword from the gold-embroidered velvet scabbard, he rings it with his
nail, to convince you of its soundness and temper. [Sidenote: SCENE IN
THE BAZAR.] Cast your eyes in the opposite direction, and you may
observe the Armenian, in the next stall, winking and slily beckoning you
towards him. He smiles, should you condescend to notice him, but frowns
and shows impatience when you appear to disregard his attempts to seduce
you from his portly rival. The latter, finding you will not buy the
sword, displays his pistols, silks, mouth-pieces of tempting amber, and
appears determined that you shall purchase something; till at length,
his patience being fairly exhausted, he packs up his wares, and
surrenders you to the wiles of his now triumphant opponent, who feels
satisfied that he can make you take something off his hands, though the
Turk was unsuccessful. As most Englishmen appear to value swords, he
takes from his cupboard a black-looking, dust-covered, white-handled
weapon; and pushing aside his long robe with an air of the utmost
importance, he draws forth the blade, which proves to be a black
Khorassan, entirely destitute of ornament: he rings it, it returns a
silver sound; he points out the beautiful watering, the gradual
deepening of the colour from the edge to the back, and finishes by
swearing to you, whilst he looks towards the Armenians and Jew brokers
gathered around for their attesting nods, that it is the most exquisite
blade in Stamboul; that it will cut a lawn kerchief, thrown into the
air, into two parts, as clean as a pair of scissors. He then closes his
panegyric with the demand of, "How much will you give?" Scarcely waiting
for a reply, he throws it aside, as if of no value; and, in imitation of
his neighbour the Turk, endeavours to keep your curiosity awake, by
placing all his wares before you. [Sidenote: JEW