He was quite right; Turkish melodies are very different. There is a wildness and pathos about many of them which strikes the stranger accustomed to the more regular measure which distinguishes European music. Now they resounded so plaintively that the guests involuntarily ceased talking. Another instant the instruments, bursting forth with a startling crash, half deafened us with the clamour.
The performers swung their heads from side to side, and kept time with the quickening air; the strains went faster and faster. The guests were inspired with the musicians' enthusiasm. All the heads began to swing, we Europeans involuntarily marking the time with our feet on the floor. The musicians panted with their exertions. Suddenly the melody left off abruptly, and one of the performers commenced a doleful dirge. This did not last long, and when he was in the most pathetic part, another crash from the orchestra interrupted him in the middle of a verse.
"Turkish music is exactly like a Turkish dinner," observed one of the guests; "it is a series of surprises; the leader of the orchestra goes from andante to a racing pace without any crescendo whatsoever; the cook in the same manner—he first gives us a dish as sweet as honey, and then astonishes our stomachs with a sauce as acid as vinegar. Now we are eating fish, another instant blanc-mange. A vegetable is next placed before us, and our stomachs have scarcely recovered from their astonishment, when a sweet soup is served up with some savoury pastry."
The servants, who were much more numerous than the guests, vied with each other in serving the different dishes. Twenty attendant domestics were arranged in Indian file. So soon as the host made a sign to the leading domestic, each kind of food was replaced by another, and number-two servant was prepared with fresh viands, while number one, who had hurried to the kitchen, returned with another dish.
The table was a raised one, chairs were placed round it. This was done in honour of the European visitors. We all ate with our fingers, each man helping himself according to his rank or social position. It was not etiquette for a Cadi to seize a piece of meat before the Bey put his fingers in the dish, a captain had to be careful not to offend the susceptibilities of a colonel.
To eat blanc-mange à la Turque requires some practice; however, the Consul and the Italian doctor had been for some time in the East, and used their fingers as readily as a knife and fork.
At last our dinner was over. Fruit, mincemeat, dishes of vegetables, sweets and raisins, salads and creams, concluding with a huge bowl of boiled rice, had been disposed of, the whole having been washed down by tumblers of red country wine very like Burgundy.
"Praise be to God!" said our host, rising; his example was followed by the rest of the guests.
A servant poured water over the hands of the visitors, beginning with each man according to his rank. We adjourned into another room. Here coffee, tchibouks, and nargilehs were handed round to the company.
A servant now approached, and said that Osman was waiting outside, and wished to speak to me.