They commenced: one of the men, dressed ridiculously as a child, personated the Nuwab. The story begins with his youth, how he is petted in the zenana; and the two others changing their dresses to those of females, one is his mother, the other his nurse. The young Nuwab is pampered, spoiled, becomes unruly, is declared to be possessed by the Shitan; a Moola is called in, and charms and wonderful potions, prepared by the aid of magic, are administered. The great child screams and roars, kicks his mother and nurse out of the assembly, upsets all about him; and the confusion and noise created by all this, especially among the Tuwaifs, made a scene of fun at which we all laughed heartily. In an incredibly short time the men again made their appearance, and the second act began. The child had grown up to be a youth, and to be fiery and uncontrollable. Women, wine, horses, and arms are his enjoyments; reckless of everything, he plunges into dissipation, sets his parents at defiance, runs into debt, is surrounded by sharpers and parasites, who despoil him of all he possesses; and he had given himself up to harlots and debauchery; and this ends the second part. His father dies--he is now Nuwab; he is the head of a proud house, has men and soldiers at his command, and his territory to manage. He forthwith kicks out his former companions, discards every one he had formerly had near him, good and bad together, gives himself up to a new set of rogues who had preyed upon his father--men with hoary beards, only the greater adepts in villany. He has a quarrel with a neighbouring noble, and the two prepare for war. The troops are described--how they eat mountains and drink rivers; and the Nuwab himself as going forth like a bridegroom to meet his bride, like the lightning from the thunder-cloud, or river over-running its bounds--terrible, irresistible, before whose glance men quail as before a lion! His horse and arms--the former large of carcass, small of limb, feet large and broad, fleet as the antelope, courageous as the panther. Of the arms, the sword which, wielded by his father, had cut through a buffalo's skin and divided the thickest quilting. He goes forth, and the fight commences; the horses charge, and the Nuwab and his enemy meet (each is mounted on the back of a man). They fight; sword after sword (made of wood) is splintered. One of the horses is killed--it is the Nuwab's! He too is killed! he is at the mercy of his foe! No, he is up again; the fight is renewed; it is long doubtful; fresh weapons are given by attendants; at last he is victorious. Alla Akbar! the victory is won, the enemy is routed.