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Updated: June 9, 2025
With many expressions of joy he backed into the interior, and immediately went in search of the famous piece of Persian embroidery which Chrysophrasia had admired during her last visit to the bazaar. "Upon my honor" began Marchetto, launching into praises of the stuff.
"I came here to see what you had. Have you nothing else that is good?" "Everything Marchetto has is good. His carpets are all of silk, and of the finest colors. His embroideries are the envy of the bazaar. Marchetto has everything." He did not finish folding the Rhodes, but thrust it aside upon the matting, and began to pull down other stuffs and carpets from the shelves.
"I have Rhodes full of holes, beautiful holes," observed Marchetto, with a grin. "Fox!" retorted Gregorios. "Do you think when I buy tapestry I want to buy holes?" "But this piece has none," argued the Jew. "You want me to buy it. I can see you do. You are laughing at my beard. You think I will give a thousand pounds for your rubbish?" "Not a thousand pounds," said Marchetto.
In Stamboul it is customary, when a bargain of any importance is completed, for the seller to make the buyer a present of some small object, which is called the backsheesh, or gift. On hearing the offer, Marchetto looked slyly at Gregorios and laughed, without saying anything. Then he slowly began to fold the tapestry together. "Ten pounds," said Balsamides.
"I am afraid not," answered the professor gravely. "Marchetto is not a mathematician; are you, Marchetto?" "No surr, Effendim. Marchetto very honest man. Twenty-five pounds, lady ah! but it is birindjí there is not a Pacha in Stamboul" "You have said that before," observed the scientist, "Try and say something new." "New!" cried Marchetto. "It is not new. Any one say it new, he lie!
You shall suffer for it, you Saloniki beast!" "Dog yourself, and son of a dog!" bellowed Marchetto, his big face growing fiery red as he blocked the doorway with his bulky shoulders. "Behold the gratitude of this vile wretch!" he cried, as though addressing an audience. "Look at this insatiate jackal, this pork-eater, this defiler of his father's grave!
"Eight pounds!" he exclaimed, in holy horror. "You know where this come from, lady? Ha! Laleli Khanum house dead no more like it." Marchetto of course knew the story of Alexander's confinement, and by a ready lie turned it to his advantage. Every one looked surprised, and began to examine the embroidery more closely. "Really!" ejaculated Chrysophrasia. "How strange this little world is!
Fear nothing, I have an eye to your safety." The last speech was perhaps somewhat ambiguous, but the man, being once released, dived into a narrow passage and disappeared. The crowd of Jews had shrunk into their shops again. Gregorios hastily concluded a bargain with Abraham, and then returned to finish his conversation with Marchetto.
They reached the bridge on foot, and, paying the toll to the big men in white who guard the entrance, began to cross the long stretch of planks which unites Stamboul with Pera. The sun was already low. Indeed, Marchetto had kept his shop open beyond the ordinary hour of closing, which is ten o'clock by Turkish time, two hours before sunset, and the bazaar was nearly deserted when they left it.
Many of the people knew him, and knew that he was an officer and a man in authority; recognizing him, they stopped yelling and made way for him. "What is this?" he cried, violently separating Marchetto and the negro, who were screaming insults at each other and shaking their fists in each other's faces. "Stop this noise," he continued, "or I will send a score of soldiers down to keep you in order.
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