warmth reminded me that my beautiful wife with her gorgeous thighs had

been　sitting　here　recently；　indeed；　I　had　used　my　reed　pen　to　draw　the　sorrow

of　the　unfortunate　prisoners　before　Our　Sultan；　as　my　intelligent　wife　clung　to

the　reed　of　my　manhood。

The　two…page　scene　I　was　painting　depicted　the　deliverance　of　condemned

and imprisoned debtors and their families by the grace of Our Sultan。 I’d

situated the Sultan on the corner of a carpet covered in bags full of silver

coins； as I’d personally witnessed during such ceremonies。 Behind Him； I’d

located the Head Treasurer holding and reading out of the debt ledger。 I’d

portrayed　the　condemned　debtors；　chained　to　each　other　by　the　iron　shackles

around　their　necks；　in　their　misery　and　pain　with　knit　brows；　long　faces　and

some　with　teary　eyes。　I’d　painted　the　lute　players　in　shades　of　red　with　beatific

faces as they acpanied the joyous prayers and poems that followed the

Sultan’s presentation of His benevolent gift： sparing the condemned from

prison。　To　emphasize　deliverance　from　the　pain　and　embarrassment　of　debt—

though I had no such plan at the outset—beside the last of the miserable

prisoners；　I’d　included　his　wife；　wearing　a　purple　dress　in　the　wretchedness　of

destitution； along with his longhaired　daughter；