Note 7 — Chapter IX · The Weighing of the Emperor.

“You mean my own private ones, do you not?” answered the other, laughing. “On the whole they go on well. Lately I have several times seen her to whom my heart belongs; and, though of course it was in secret, yet I have reasons for suspecting her father, Todar Mal,7 knew all about it, although he gave himself the airs of knowing nothing. I believe my uncle Faizi has something to do with this favourable change in affairs. ‘May Allah bless him!’ as the pious Abdul Kadir would say.” And here the good Parviz wandered off into a stream of praises of the beauty and virtues of her he loved, which, deeply interesting to him, was not quite so much so for his hearer. However this might be, the one subject occupied the two friends until they reached the spot where the festival was to be held. Here the view was as full of life as that of the court had been, but far fuller of mirth and merriment. Endless numbers moved in lightly coloured groups over the great undulating plain where countless tents, great and small, were pitched. Above all, the elephants with their dark bodies, bright-coloured cloths, and richly ornamented haudas, contrasted picturesquely with the riders and those on foot. The imperial elephants were decorated with golden breast and head plates, set with large smaragds; and their gigantic bodies bore a treasure enough to make the fortune of any simple burgher. On one of these the Mughal himself was seated, and dismounting in a circle of his courtiers, and followed by them, repaired to the spot where the great ceremony of the day was to be celebrated. This ceremonial deserves attention, so strange and impressive was it. Many have endeavoured in different ways to explain what it betokened, but the true meaning has hitherto escaped all historians.8