Legendary & romantic tales of Indian historyCaunter, Hobart
History
Legendary & romantic tales of Indian history
Caunter, Hobart
India -- History -- Fiction
[27] A huge lizard, frequently upwards of three feet long.
[28] Extract of a letter of Sir Alexander Johnston to Mr. C. Grant,
upon the Hindoo national education.
CHAPTER V.
On the next day of public audience the bereaved parent repaired to the
Dewan Aum, or Hall of Public Audience. When he entered he was dazzled
by the extraordinary splendour of the scene. The musnud upon which the
Emperor sat was so costly a work as to be one of the marvels of the
age. It was in the form of a peacock with the tail outspread, entirely
composed of diamonds and other precious stones. It was valued at seven
crore of rupees.[29] The apartment was built entirely of white marble,
and richly ornamented with representations of various flowers. Over
the arches which supported the roof was the following inscription in
Persian characters, beautifully inlaid with silver on a ground of
dark, but brilliantly polished marble--“If there be a heaven upon
earth, it is here, it is here, it is here.” The letters were admirably
formed, and distinctly legible from the floor. In this hall, beside
the throne, was an immense block of crystal, upon which the Emperor
used to sit when he held private audience with his ministers. It was
sufficiently broad to have formed a table. The apartment was lighted by
a dome, the largest in the palace, richly inlaid with gold.
When the Pariah entered, the hall was nearly filled. As he attempted to
approach the royal presence, he was stopped by one of the guards.
“Whom do you seek here?” asked the soldier.
“Your sovereign.”
“He does not hold conference with strangers, especially upon days of
state ceremony.”
“Your king is reported wise, and not only wise, but just. I come to
offer an appeal to his royal justice; and you do both him and me wrong
by defrauding him of the opportunity of exercising his justice, and me
of receiving that benefit from it which, if report do not belie him, he
would be delighted to confer.”
“Are you not a Pariah?”
“What then? Are the natural rights of man less my nature’s privilege
than another’s? Mahomedans do not despise Pariahs, and your sovereign
least of any.”
“You cannot have audience here.”
“Why?”
“Because this place is appropriated to the ceremonies and business of
state. You must send a petition.”
“Nay, soldier, I must see your king: withhold me at your peril!”
“Advance but a single step further, and I shall cut you down.”
“My blood, then, be upon your head.”
The Pariah stepped forward; the soldier did his best to put his threat
into execution, but his intended victim had sprung beyond the reach of
the stroke.
“Justice!” he cried, in a loud shrill voice, that rang through the
hall; “justice from the Emperor of the Moguls.”
“Who is it that demands justice?” asked Humayoon, with mild dignity;
“let him approach.”
The stranger immediately advanced, and prostrated himself before the
King.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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