I should have returned to Constantinople on the day before the Bairam,[223] had I not been detained by my wish to see that day’s ceremonies. The Turks were about to celebrate the rites of the festival on an open and level plain before the tents of Solyman; and I could hardly hope that such an occasion of seeing them would ever present itself again. I gave my servants orders to promise a soldier some money and so get me a place in his tent, on a mound which commanded a good view of Solyman’s pavilions. Thither I repaired at sunrise. I saw assembled on the plain a mighty multitude of turbaned heads, attentively following, in the most profound silence, the words of the priest who was leading their devotions. They kept their ranks, each in his proper position; the lines of troops looked like so many hedges or walls parting out the wide plain, on which they were drawn up. According to its rank in the service each corps was posted nearer to, or farther from, the place where the Sultan stood. The troops were dressed in brilliant uniforms, their head-dresses rivalling snow in whiteness. The scene which met my eyes was charming, the different colours having a most pleasing effect. The men were so motionless that they seemed rooted to the ground on which they stood. There was no coughing, no clearing the throat, and no voice to be heard, and no one looked behind him or moved his head. When the priest pronounced the name of Mahomet all alike bowed their heads to their knees at the same moment, and when he uttered the name of God they fell on their faces in worship and kissed the ground. The Turks join in their devotions with great ceremony and attention, for if they even raise a finger to scratch their head, their prayer, they think, will not be accepted. ‘For,’ say they, ‘if you had to converse with Pashas would you not do so with your body in a respectful attitude? how much more are we bounden to observe the same reverence towards God, who is so far above the highest earthly eminence?’ Such is their logic. When prayers were finished, the serried ranks broke up, and the whole plain was gradually covered with their surging masses. Presently the Sultan’s servants appeared bringing their master’s dinner, when, lo and behold! the Janissaries laid their hands on the dishes, seized their contents and devoured them, amid much merriment. This licence is allowed by ancient custom as part of that day’s festivity, and the Sultan’s wants are otherwise provided for. I returned to Constantinople full of the brilliant spectacle, which I had thoroughly enjoyed.