THE DECLINE AND PALL

228

CHAI*.

Lxvm.

morning must have elapsed: nor can I believethat many Grecian ladies were awakened by thejanizaries from a sound and tranquil slumber.On the assurance of the public calamity, thehouses and convents were instantly deserted;and the trembling inhabitants flocked togetherin the streets, like an herd of timid animals, as ifaccumulated weakness could be productive ofstrength, or in the vain hope, that amid thecrowd, each individual might be safe and invisi-ble. From every part of the capital they flowedinto the church of St. Sophia; in the space ofan hour, the sanctuary, the choir, the nave, theupper and lower galleries, were filled with themultitude of fathers and husbands, of women andchildren, of priests, monks, and religious virgins:the doors were barred on the inside, and theysought protection from the sacred dome, whichthey had so lately abhorred as a profane andpolluted edifice. Their confidence was foundedon the prophecy of an enthusiast or impostor,that one day the Turks would enter Constantin-ople , and pursue the Romans as far as the columnof Constantine in the square before St. Sophia;but that this would be the term of their calami-ties: that an angel would descend from heaven,w'ith a sword in his hand, and would deliver theempire, with that celestial weapon, to a poorman seated at the foot of the column. “ Take“ this sword,” would he say, “ and avenge the“ people of the Lord.” At these animatingwords, the Turks would instantly fly, and thevictorious Romans would drive them from theWest, and from all Anatolia , as far as the fron-