India -- History -- 1526-1765 -- Fiction; Maratha (Indic people) -- History -- Fiction
Neelkunt Rai proceeded. He had been deceived by the address, which
was that usually written to his own sovereign, and had read the
letter through unsuspiciously; but as its purport became evident, it
was clear, by his change of countenance, that this was no ordinary
communication, and after a while he stopped suddenly.
"It is not fit for my lord to hear," he said excitedly. "This is
treason!"
"Be not afraid, Neelkunt Rai, we would know the worst," replied the
King.
"Yes, my lord should know who are true and who are false," added the
Peer, pompously. "It is true wisdom!"
"As you will," returned the old man, bowing to the King, and not
noticing the Peer; "your servant is not responsible for what is
written, and you must be patient with it;" and he read and translated
as he went on.
There could be no doubt that the treason was unmasked and unconcealed.
The wrongs of his father, wrote Sivaji, who for four years had been
imprisoned in the dungeon of the citadel of Beejapoor, near the
gate, called for revenge; the wrongs of the people, suffering under
endless local oppression and exaction, called for redress, which it
was hopeless to expect at the hands of a boy, priest-ridden and under
the domination of bigoted and ignorant ministers. The conclusion was
characteristic of the writer. All he desired was confirmation of his
ancestral rights, and permission to serve, with his forces, in the
imperial interest.
Letter after letter was read, all much to the same purpose; those of
the latter dates being more particular, perhaps, than the former.
"Enough," cried the King at last, "we are weary of these details. What
dost thou think, Neelkunt Rai?"
"My lord," said the old man, joining his hands, "mine are not the words
of flattery; nor is my advice given without reason. I cannot control
men's tongues, nor can I hinder the actions of such as Sivaji Bhóslay;
nor yet am I a soldier, to estimate whether his means are proportionate
to the end he proposes to attain. If I may speak, I will do so truly,
and as one who is near death now; but my lord must not be offended,
else I am silent."
"Be careful, and do not transgress the bounds of propriety and
respect," said the priest.
"Let him speak as he will, Syud," cried the King, hastily; "do not
interrupt him. Fear not, Neelkunt Rai."
"I fear no one, because I have no reason to do so," returned the old
man simply, and looking steadily at the priest. "What I have to say is
this: the disaffection of Sivaji Bhóslay may spread, but it has not
yet become dangerous. That it will be so, if not checked, there is no
doubt, for the whole Mahratta people are with him; and there are many
signs among them that he will be great----"
"That he will be great?" echoed the King.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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