The Great Turk stood to his full height and his dark eye studied the serried ranks of his concubines with approval. They were so many this winter that the eye could not take them all in, and the mind could not count them. Even in such numbers they were, he thought, of surpassing beauty, being so sleek and fat that their legs could barely carry them.
Had any potentate anywhere, he mused happily, ever had such a plethora of loveliness laid out in front of them.
He stretched his neck and shook his great red wattles.
“Gobble, gobble,” he said.