¿Cómo murió realmente Solimán el Magnífico?

It was 1566. Istanbul breathed with the slow, heavy rhythm of an old man. It was a strange paradox: the Ottoman Empire stretched further than ever before, from Algiers to Basra, from Budapest to Yemen. Its army terrified Vienna, its fleet Genoa. Venetian merchants whispered in the ports that the sultan was destiny itself, draped in brocade. And that destiny, at that moment, lay in his tent somewhere beneath the Hungarian fortress of Szigetvár. He was 71 years old. He was no longer Suleiman Kanuni, "the Lawgiver," whose justice had become proverbial. Nor "the Magnificent," whose splendor eclipsed the kings of Europe. His body had become a traitor. Gout had seized his legs to the point where he could no longer ride a horse. Historians would later write about "dropsy" and "swelling," but the essence lay not in the diagnosis, but in the condition: Suleiman the Magnificent could no longer rise without the assistance of slaves. He was transported on campaign in a closed chariot, like a precious and dreadful cargo. It was here, in the encampment before the walls of the rebel fortress, that the most absurd and brilliant spectacle of the 16th century was born. The sultan died on the night of September 5-6. His heart, most likely, gave way under the weight of years, illness, and the colossal strain of the final campaign. But the world would not know this until 48 days later. As his embalmed body slowly made its way home to Istanbul, his death would be the most closely guarded state secret. His court physician would make his way to the tent each morning to simulate treatments. Viziers would receive orders, supposedly relayed from behind a curtain. And the body, dressed in ceremonial robes, would be solemnly paraded before the troops, as if the sultan were simply too weak to show himself.