Asia Minor: Farewell to Constantinople, Brussa, ascent to Olympus and Troy

Osman Agha, the commander of the place, met me and announced that Ahmet Pasha had ordered him to be completely at my command. He prepared an apartment for me with a Greek, and said that I could demand from him whatever I wanted, and the horses and guides were ready whenever I wanted. Go to Brussa, where Akhmet Pasha will stay for another week. I thanked Osman for his politeness, and said that now I don’t need anything for peace; but that I will use the apartment, and the next day, near the obeda, I will go to Brussa. Kosmos, my master, was waiting for me at his place, received me with joy and led me to the prepared rest. He arranged his own apartments for me, and he and his wife and three daughters lived in some kind of attic: I realized that I had unwittingly killed this poor family; but there was nothing to be done: one night would soon pass, and I wanted to reward it generously. Having smoked a pipe of my glorious Bostrek tobacco, I took the Greek, my master, and went with him to Osman Ag. The street we passed along was narrow; transported the construction site of the city; The inhabitants are half Greek, but there are also Jews. There are two mosques in Ye-nik; one was converted from an old church. Osman-Aga met me at the door, and we went with him to his chambers, and when we sat down on the dizan, then, with the usual greetings, they brought us a goat and pipes. Osman told me that he considers it lucky to have a friend of his boss in his house; that Ahmet Pasha ordered him to treat me as if he were himself. I thanked old man Aga and asked if there were any antiquities or fascinating buildings left in the city? - What kind of treasures do you want to find here | - answered Yeah. “We don’t even have lamb for weeks at a time!” Some Greek was rebuilding a house, and in the st5nf he found a stone hand with one finger. He sold this rubbish, imagine, to Jew for a chervonets. What would it be good for Jide? Use your fortune telling! These wicked people do magic. One of them, do you know, how did he remark to his enemy? He made a doll out of it and pierced its heart with a needle, saying some devilry: at that very moment, his enemy, alive in Constantinople5, fell dead! It may be that the Jew bought this hand for the same amount. “I told Osman that I don’t trust fortune telling, and if there are people who allow themselves to do evil, then we must pray to God so that he will banish them from their minds and cleanse their hearts.” - Here's another! said Osman. “Pray for the dogs.” - Having sat with the old Turk, I went to that place where, as they believe, there was Dloclitlan’s palace. Piles of bricks, tiles, and many stones clearly show that there was once a significant building here; but neither columns nor marble are visible. Most likely, all the materials were transported to Constantinople for some new construction project. From this place begins the open field; it goes along an unswept slope towards the bay. Beyond the field, near the bay, you can see a castle, where there are many towers: this is the ancient Niron, and the modern one is Gereke. You will involuntarily fall into thought on this half and at the same time closed. Here a great event took place in History, and there, a particularly great man. Here Duclitlan laid down his crown, and then retired to Salona, ​​to live in solitude, as a private person; Konstantin Veliki died in Ankyrö. Looking at this field, covered in some places with watermelons, I found, at its highest point, a small pile of stones: they were hewn, and should have formed something whole, but, navfruo, they were not built; The place is too dark for that; Moreover, there are no other remains, no signs of ruins. Was it really the same caeedra with which Dloklitan last time was sorry to speak to the people? His abdication from the throne will forever remain a mystery to posterity. Many of his contemporaries thought that if the people had expressed the slightest compassion, the slightest participation, if only one voice had shouted to Augustus not to leave the right-handed man, Dloclitan would have remained. I stopped at these stones, and the whole picture of the event presented itself to my imagination: a field strewn with people waiting for something new, unusual. The entire court, the clergy, military and civil officials stood there in solemn attire. Here are the m5sta prepared for Augustus, for his family, and for the noble women of the city. Suddenly August’s chariot appeared: it quietly drove up, accompanied by many horsemen; Caesar Galerius, the young Constantius (not yet Caesar at that time), Consuls, Tribunes, King Armenians, were among them. They came down from the horses. August's chariot reached the kaoedra made for him. Supported by two lictors, OB entered with difficulty along the steps, and spoke to the people with a skillfully composed poem: he reminded him of his numerous blessings, O Mirf, so many indestructible, © his triumphs over the Persians. He stopped several times, probably wanting to see what kind of noise his voice was making... But not a single voice was heard that began to thank him and beg him to continue to rule the Empire; everyone showed only curiosity. Finally, he began to talk about the weakness of his health, about the impossibility of enduring the labors of the right-hand man, and announced his intention to retire and hand over the supreme government of the state into the hands of more people. Here he still stopped. The silence continued.... Then, calling Gaderl, he introduced him to the people as Augustus, took off his purple robe, put it on the new Emperor and descended from the caeedra. There were exclamations of joy, but no hugs, and it was difficult to judge what they were happy about? should I choose a naslfdnik or reject Dloklitanov? Galeri immediately took the place of Dloklitlan, and he, back in the chariot, and not accompanied by anyone, returned to the city in earnest, as preparations had already been made for his return to Sazon. This is how the reign of Doklilanovo concluded. This whole picture vividly presented itself as a myth. I stood on Dlyuklitanov, on Galerlev mstv!... But the field was empty! N't Consulov, Tribulov's n't Roman! Nt Nakomidi! - Poor little Ie-nik, a field filled with watermelons, the devastated Turks, who had never heard of Dlokaitan, O Constantine, took their revenge. With my head down, I walked away with sadness; mn5 the horse was prepared. I went to Ankyra. Nowhere, it seems, can we see such a lovely landscape as the shores of the Iikomid Gulf represent. Nature has exhausted all its treasures here! Rich soil, blue sky, beautiful groves, lots of fruits, grapes, huge plane trees - all this together makes up a wild but incomparable picture! I was not surprised that Pyuklitlan liked to live in this mfet5. There are now mudflows around, or, better to say, there are almost none of them. The Turks have devastated everything, ruined everything, and do not think of fixing anything. Kosmos Fhal and I wondered why the poison was thinking, and for so long he looked at the empty watermelon melon. I tried to tell him; but he did not understand me, and asked: why am I going to Ankyra? - to see where Constantine the Great died. - He shook his head, telling me: They told you not the truth; he died in the Church of St. Sozsh, from where the angels carried him straight to the throne of the Most High!