KING [_listening_].--This is no place for petulance. Who can it be whose behavior calls for such a rebuke? [_Looking in the direction of the sound and smiling_.] A child, is it? closely attended by two holy women. His disposition seems anything but childlike. See, He braves the fury of yon lioness Suckling its savage offspring, and compels The angry whelp to leave the half-sucked dug, Tearing its tender mane in boisterous sport. _Enter a child, attended by two women of the hermitage, In the manner described_. CHILD.--Open your mouth, my young lion, I want to count your teeth. FIRST ATTENDANT.--You naughty child, why do you tease the animals? Know you not that we cherish them in this hermitage as if they were our own children? In good sooth, you have a high spirit of your own, and are beginning already to do justice to the name Sarva-damana (All-taming), given you by the hermits. KING.--Strange! My heart inclines towards the boy with almost as much affection as if he were my own child. What can be the reason? I suppose my own childlessness makes me yearn towards the sons of others. SECOND ATTENDANT.--This lioness will certainly attack you if you do not release her whelp. CHILD [_laughing_].--Oh! indeed! let her come. Much I fear her, to be sure. [_Pouts his under-lip in defiance_. KING.--The germ of mighty courage lies concealed Within this noble infant, like a spark Beneath the fuel, waiting but a breath To fan the flame and raise a conflagration. FIRST ATTENDANT.--Let the young lion go, like a dear child, and I will give you something else to play with. CHILD.--Where is it? Give it me first. [_Stretches out his hand._ KING [_looking at his hand_].--How's this? His hand exhibits one of those mystic marks which are the sure prognostic of universal empire. See! His fingers stretched in eager expectation To grasp the wished-for toy, and knit together By a close-woven web, in shape resemble A lotus-blossom, whose expanding petals The early dawn has only half unfolded. SECOND ATTENDANT.--We shall never pacify him by mere words, dear Suvratá. Be kind enough to go to my cottage, and you will find there a plaything belonging to Márkándeya, one of the hermit's children. It is a peacock made of China-ware, painted in many colors. Bring it here for the child. FIRST ATTENDANT.--Very well. [_Exit._ CHILD.--No, no; I shall go on playing with the young lion. [_Looks at the female attendant and laughs_. KING.--I feel an unaccountable affection for this wayward child. How blessed the virtuous parents whose attire Is soiled with dust, by raising from the ground The child that asks a refuge in their arms! And happy are they while with lisping prattle, In accents sweetly inarticulate, He charms their ears; and with his artless smiles Gladdens their hearts, revealing to their gaze His tiny teeth, just budding into view.