THE SILVER HILL.
Say, since the day when first Pinzala's realm Bowed 'neath our sceptre, have its people known One hour of fear, one cause of discontent ?
Not one, O King !.
Attend, then, while I ask Your counsel on a matter which concerns Not us alone, but all our subjects' weal. You know the Prince ; albeit green in years, To Zamboodeepa's * farthest boundary Extends the fame of his transcendant worth. Speak, wise and trusty nobles, know ye cause Why this our son, who, as the orb of heaven, Shines forth in radiant glory, should not be Straightway installed successor to our crown ?
Joyfully, sire, your servants acquiesce In this your royal purpose. Our young prince, Sprung from the race of Maha Thamada,a Before whom kneels the mighty elephant, Who, like a warrior, curbs his fiery steed, Bends the tough bow, and every weapon wields,a Excels the greatest monarchs of the world. Why then delay ?aWith fitting pomp and state, Let this day see him heir apparent made.
[Exeunt King and Ministers.
Prince (awaking from sleep).
In vain upon this diamond couch recline My weary limbs. Vain is my princely birth, My high estate, With sorrow's weight oppressed,
* The world of man.* The world of man.