For the first time since his strategic retreat to his bedroom Sir John doubted the wisdom of that step. Even now he did not regret the deed itself--that was worthily done. Any other conduct would have been inconsistent with punctilious care for the honour of the King his master. Sir John tried to fortify himself with these thoughts. But as week after week came and went, and still there was no invitation to audience, he could not but feel that a deed which is right in principle may be pernicious in its consequences. At length, beginning to grow seriously anxious, he begged his very good friend Hussein Aga to find out the real origin of these delays. The Chief Customer sent back word that there was not the least “disgusto” against him at Court: the Polish Treaty really took up all the Vizir’s time, and he would have his audience in due course and with due honour--that was the whole truth of the matter “upon his head.” This reassuring message allayed Sir John’s anxiety, till--let Sir John himself speak--“till an unpreventable accident disorderd’ and discomposd’ all things and incensd’ the Visir so much that He satisfyd’ his passion upon me.”[194]
The accident deserves to be related at some length; for, besides the effect it had upon our Ambassador’s fortunes, it illustrates very vividly, if not very pleasantly, the manners of the times and the morals of the men involved.
An English merchant of Smyrna had lent to a Venetian native of Candia, called Pizzamano, 3000 dollars, and received some goods as security. After the merchant’s death, his partner, Mr. John Ashby, who at the time of the deal was away, found this pledge among the assets of the deceased, and also found that, in the interval, Pizzamano had gone bankrupt and was hiding from his creditors. Although the term of the loan had not yet expired, Mr. Ashby, fearing no trouble from a man who was unable to show his face, proceeded to sell the goods at the Consul’s gate, in the usual Frank fashion, “by inch of candle.”[195] Besides being premature, the proceeding was irregular in other respects. Turkish law did not recognise a sale at the Consul’s gate by inch of candle, but ordained that all auctions should be held in the market-place, by leave of the Cadi, and after three days’ public notice. Further, it must be observed that Mr. Rycaut, in sanctioning the sale, had exceeded his powers: an English Consul’s jurisdiction was limited to persons of his own nation, and he had no right to settle an affair between an Englishman and a foreigner.