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Updated: May 7, 2025
Again the music struck up with a deafening din, and the state reception was over. But this was not to be the only interview between the Ambassador and the Sultan, for several so-called private conferences followed, at which an attendant or two and the interpreter Ayush were present.
The official personnel of the embassy consisted of the Minister and his secretary Nikolaki Glymenopoulos, with Ayush ben Lezrá, the interpreter. The secretary was a self-confident dandy with a head like a pumpkin and a scrawl like the footprints of a wandering hen; reputed a judge of ladies and horse-flesh; supercilious, condescending to inferiors, and the plague of his tailor.
"May it please Your Majesty," began the Minister, in Greek, "I cannot express the honour I feel in again being commissioned to approach Your Majesty in the capacity of Ambassador from my Sovereign, King Otho of Greece." This little speech was rendered into Arabic by Ayush to this effect "May God pour blessings on our Lord.
Through the huge open horse-shoe arch of the door the light streamed between the branches of graceful creepers waving in the breeze, adding to the impression of coolness caused by the bubbling fountain outside. "May God bless our Lord, and prolong his days!" said Ayush, bowing profoundly towards the Sultan, as the Minister concluded the repetition of his stock phrases, and seated himself.
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