And the aged man with tattered white hair depending from his bleached and bony head like lichen from a stricken tree, supporting his painful steps on a stick, weak, imbecile, skinny jaw fallen disclosing toothless gums, eyes red and bleared, without lashes, and moisture oozing from them, drawing oppressed and painful breath and terror-stricken amidst the crowds, tottered across the flowery way and sank, heaped and huddled beside the chariot, casting a look of terror upon the radiant Prince, and mumbling and muttering what none could hear, his head shaking like a leaf in wind. And it was as if darkness and terror obliterated the sun and all the crowded people bowed forward to see the stopping of the chariot, breathlessly remembering the Maharaja’s commands, but none stirred in his place and even the children were dumb. And yet they had seen nothing but the face of the Prince with a shadow fallen upon it. And the Prince laid his hand on the reins and the horses stopped with drooped crests, and shaken with horror he cried aloud to the charioteer: “Channa, what is it? What is this man? If indeed man it be.” And the old man crouched there, muttering, and great fear held Channa silent, and again the Prince cried aloud: “What is it? What is it?” And again the crowd sighed like the first stirring of winter answer from Channa’s lips where he stood, bowed over the golden reins grasped in his hand. “Prince, this is an old man. This is old age.” And a long sighing sob commoved the crowded people as though their doom were pronounced, when they heard. But the Prince, the words almost dying on his lips, said trembling. “What is old age? Was this unhappy one born so, or has it fallen as a judgment from Heaven?” And again the crowd sighed like the first stirring of winter winds and Channa, face hidden, replied: “Prince, he was not so born, nor is it the Gods’ anger, but this is the common lot and to every man born on earth it comes nor can it be escaped. This ruin of a man was once a child at his mother’s breast, and then a boy filled with laughter and sportive gaiety, a joy to see and hear. Later, a youth, beautiful, amorous and brave, such as attended on bliss, and in enjoyment of the Five Pleasures. But old age, dogging the steps of men as a hound with fell teeth, has dragged him down at last and had its will of him, and he lives a life of pain and men avoid him and women pass him by.” And some women in the crowd wept aloud, and the air was heavy with sighing and the old man moaned and muttered with toothless jaws. But the Prince, still unbelieving and trembling said: “And will this doom come upon my great father? “Noble sir, yes.” “And upon the beauty of—my ladies?” “Even so.” “And upon me.” And there was a fearful silence like death among the crowd and no word from Channa so that had a breath stirred in the palms it would have affrighted the soul. Then suddenly the Prince cried aloud: