“What a number of noble animals there must be there!” he remarked.
“Yes,” answered Parviz, “there are at least a hundred elephants here; and I scarcely know how many are kept for the Emperor in other places, but according to report he has as many again, and equal numbers of horses and hunting-leopards.”
“But,” asked Siddha, “what can any one, even though he be the great Akbar, do with such profusion?”
“Not much for himself,” was the answer. “Less perhaps than you imagine. Born in a wilderness, while his father wandered in banishment, and brought up in a camp, he places no value on all this excessive luxury; but he is convinced, I believe, that a prince like him, in these countries and among such people as he governs, has as great need of a striking magnificence as of a fine army and experienced statesmen. We all—Persians, Mughals, Arabs, or Hindus, your people as well as ours—are accustomed to feel greater respect for a monarch the more outward show he makes. But you must not think that with all this show there is also great prodigality. On the contrary, I can assure you nothing is lost or wasted, and in the smallest affairs of this great court there is the same strict order as in the different departments of government, which can perhaps everywhere in the kingdom of the Great Mughal be held up as an example of what intelligent administration should be. My uncle Abú-l Fazl is busied in describing all this exactly in his great work on the institutions and the government of the Emperor,[3] in which he allows me to help him occasionally. But there are some things in which Akbar may be called prodigal, especially in aiding those who are in trouble and difficulties, and who have some claim on his liberality; and also in the advancement of science and art. As regards these, his treasurer has some trouble in keeping him within bounds. But now,” continued Parviz, after a moment’s silence, “it is about time to be returning; the sun commences to burn, and I must confess to a little fatigue. If we loiter here longer I shall be inclined to repose on one of these seats, and await the coolness of the evening; but in this way we should lose our meal.”
“So let us turn back,” answered Siddha; “and I thank you heartily for your company.”
Taking a by-path on the other side of the garden and building, Parviz guided his friend back to his lodging, and there taking leave, he said, “To-morrow probably you will be too busy with your appointment to see more of our town; but the day after, or later, I shall gladly be at your orders, only let me know if I am to come for you.”
The two young men took leave of each other, and Siddha sought, in a cool apartment, the mid-day rest, which he found far from unwelcome. When evening fell, he, with his elder friend, took their way to Faizi, brother of the Minister. A comfortable and tastefully built bungalow, surrounded by thickly growing trees, was the habitation of Abú-l Fazl’s younger brother. They were immediately admitted, and presently a servant appeared, to lead them to Faizi’s own apartment. There, close to a verandah that ran round the greater part of the building, sat a man, in the prime of life, bending over a table covered with papers. Around him, on the ground, were scattered many others. He rose to meet his visitors without any formality, and holding out his hand with a simple welcome, signed to them to seat themselves with him on the cushions before the verandah.[4]
What principally distinguished Faizi from his elder brother was the frank, joyous expression of his smoothly shaven countenance, and a peculiar easiness of manner, mixed with the courtly forms of a man of the world. His calm and tranquil look was more characteristic of a quiet thinker than of a man of warlike experience, although as a warrior he had not failed in many a brave deed, and as ambassador had aided in setting at rest many an intricate question.
“I knew well,” he said, as a servant offered wine and refreshments, “that you would not let the day pass, worthy Kulluka, without giving me, as well as my brother, the pleasure of seeing you and making acquaintance with your young friend, who, before long, I hope to call mine. And what do you think of our new city?” he asked Siddha. “You must already have seen something of it.”
“Your nephew Parviz, noble lord,” answered Siddha, “was so kind as to show me a part of the palace this morning; but to tell the truth, I cannot at this moment form an opinion of it. I am now simply overcome with astonishment at so much magnificence and such a profusion of splendid works of art. I had imagined much, but my imagination fell far short of the reality.”