Amir Barsbāy Qarā al-Ẓāhirī, the khāzindār, has told that, when he had taken him out of the secret chamber of the Qaṣr ʾAblaq, and was taking him to al-Baḥra, in order for him to be imprisoned there, hereby crossing the Ṭarīq al-Ḥarīm al-Sulṭānī, Yilbāy became fatigued on route and sat down to rest. Then he asked amir Barsbāy, ‘Where am I going to?’
Barsbāy said to him, ‘To al-Baḥra, o mawlānā l-sulṭān, respected and honored (maʿzūz mukarram)!’
He then said, ‘By God, I am not a sultan, I am an amir. What was I doing with the sultanate, when I had already grown old, my mind had become forgetful, and my sight and hearing poor? By God, greet the sultan, and tell him, ‘I am not a sultan.’ Ask him to send me to the harbour of Damietta or to some other place, but not to a prison, where I can live until I die, without posing a threat (maʾmūn al-ʿāqiba, trsl. by Popper as ‘safe to the end’). For I have not known have to manage the government. I am but a sultan’s mawlā, how could I do anything which the sultan would dislike?’
Then he wept time and again.’
Barsbāy continued, ‘Then I increased my showing respect for him, comforting him and promising him that all would be well.’
The reason why I reproduce this story is the fact that Yilbāy acknowledged his inability to take care of the matters of the government. In short, his sultanate was one of the errors of the age.