t, Poet? Who wins? You, or they?

We, King, we. We always win.

But, Poet, your proof----

King, the greatest things in the world disdain proof. But if you
could for a time wipe out all the poets and all their poetry from
the world, then you would soon discover, by their very absence,
where the men of action got their energy from, and who really
supplied the life-sap to their harvest-field. It is not those who
have plunged deep down into the Pundit's _Ocean of Renunciation_,
nor those who are always clinging to their possessions; it is not
those who have become adepts in turning out quantities of work,
nor those who are ever telling the dry beads of duty,--it is not
these who win at last. But it is those who love, because they
live. These truly win, for they truly surrender. They accept pain
with all their strength and with all their strength they remove
pain. It is they who create, because they know the secret of true
joy, which is the secret of detachment.

Well then, Poet, if that be so, what do you ask me to do now?

I ask you, King, to rise up and move. That cry outside yonder is
the cry of life to life. And if the life within you is not
stirred, in response to that call without, then there is cause
for anxiety indeed,--not because duty has been neglected, but
because you are dying.

But, Poet, surely we must die, sooner or later?

No, King, that's a lie. When we feel for certain that we are
alive, then we know for certain that we shall go on living. Those
who have never put life to the test, in all possible ways, these
keep on crying out:

_Life is fleeting, Life is waning,
Life is like a dew-drop on a lotus leaf._

But, isn't life inconstant?

Only because its movement is unceasing. The moment you stop this
movement, that moment you begin to play the drama of Death.

Poet, are you speaking the truth? Shall we really go on living?

Yes, we shall really go on living.

Then, Poet, if we are going to go on living, we must make our
life worth its eternity. Is not that so?

Yes, indeed.

Ho, Guard.

Yes, Your Royal Highness.

Call the Vizier at once.

Yes, Your Royal Highness.

(_Vizier enters._)

What is Your Majesty's pleasure?

Vizier! Why on earth have you kept me waiting so long?

I was very busy, Your Majesty.

Busy? What were you busy about?

I was dismissing the General.

Why should you dismiss the General? We have got to discuss war
matters with him.

And arran