To earthly lutes and lips unknown;
With every chord fresh from the touch
Of Music’s spirit,—’twas too much!”
“The light of the universe” overcomes even the “conqueror of the world.” Thinking it, after all, wiser to kiss and be friends than be sulky, he surrenders at discretion:— [[95]]
“And, happier now for all their sighs,
As on his arm her head reposes,
She whispers him with laughing eyes,
‘Remember, love, the Feast of Roses!’ ”
Leaving the favourite haunts of the “magnificent son of Akbar,” we crossed the lake again to see the Maharajah inspect a party of about 2,000 soldiers, who were departing for the war at Girgit. Nothing in the way of supplies being procurable near the scene of action, the greater part of the review was taken up by the marching past of a horde of Cashmeree and mountain porters, heavily laden with the sinews of war. According to report, the pay of the army here is about five shillings per mensem, with a ration of two pounds of rice per diem.
In the evening, the number of boats congregated on the lake was marvellous. All were perfectly crammed with Cashmerian pleasure-seekers; but the turbaned faithful, in spite of the pressure, in no way lost their dignity, but with pipes and coffee enjoyed themselves in apparently entire unconsciousness of there being a soul on the lake beside themselves. The most wonderful sight, however, was the immense crowd of many-coloured turbans congregated on shore, witnessing the departure of the Cashmerian Guards; and as they thronged the green [[96]]slopes in thousands, they gave one quite the idea of a mass of very violent-coloured flowers blooming together in a garden. On our way home we had great jostling, and even fighting, in order to maintain our position among the crowds of boats, the result of which was that our crew managed to break two paddles in upholding the dignity and respectability of their masters. The Maharajah himself, however, gave us the go-by in great style, in a long quaint boat, propelled by thirty-six boatmen, and built with a broad seat towards the bows, in shape like the overgrown body of a gig in indifferent circumstances, on which his Highness reclined. By his side was the little prince, in glorious apparel, while half a dozen of his court, arrayed in spotless white, appeared like so many snow-drifts lying at his feet.