ls me, King, to instruct you in the ways of fortune.

What instruction can you give?

There is a verse in my book of devotions which runs as follows:

_Fortune, as fickle as lotus-flower,
Closes her favours when comes the hour.
Oh, foolish man, how can you trust her,
Who comes of a sudden, and goes in a fluster?_

Ah, Pundit. One breath of your teaching blows out the false flame
of ambition. Our teacher has said:

"Teeth fall out, hair grows grey;
Yet man clings to hope that plays him false."

Well, King, now that you have introduced the subject of hope, let
me give you another verse from the _Ocean of Renunciation_. It
runs as follows:

_That fetters are binding, all are aware;
But fetters of hope are strange, I declare.
Hope's captive is tossed in the whirlpool's wake,
And only grows still when the fetters break._

Ah, Pundit. Your words are priceless. Vizier, give him a hundred
gold sequins at once. What's that noise outside?

It is the famine-stricken people.

Tell them to hold their peace.

Let Sruti-bhushan, with his book of devotions, go and try to
bring them peace; and, in the meanwhile, Your Majesty might
discuss war matters----

No, no. Let the war matters come later. I can't let Sruti-bhushan
go yet.

King, you said something to me, a moment ago, about a gift of
gold. Now mere gold, by itself, does not confer any permanent
benefit. It is said in my book of devotions, called the _Ocean of
Renunciation_:

_He who gives gold, gives only pain;
When the gold is spent grief comes again.
When a lakh, or crore, of gold is spent,
Grief only remains in the empty tent._

Ah, Pundit. How exquisite. So you don't want any gold, my Master?

No, King, I don't want gold, but something more permanent, which
would make your merit permanent also. I should be quite content,
if you gave me the living of Kanchanpur. For it is said in the
_Renunciation_----

No, Pundit, I quite understand. You needn't quote scripture to
support your claim. I understand quite well--Vizier!

Yes, Your Majesty.

See that the rich province of Kanchanpur is settled on the
Pundit.--What's the matter now outside there? What are they
crying for?

If it please Your Majesty, it is the people.

Why do they cry so repeatedly?

Their cry is repeated, I admit, but the reason remains most
monotonously the same. They are starving.

But, King, I must tell you before