him a son.

For, before the Indian woman had come to the King, the Queen had borne
a son, Ananda, and he was pale and slender and the King despised him
because of the wiles of Dwaymenau, saying he was fit only to sit among
the women, having the soul of a slave, and he laughed bitterly as the
pale child crouched in the corner to see him pass. If his eyes had been
clear, he would have known that here was no slave, but a heart as much
greater than his own as the spirit is stronger than the body. But this
he did not know and he strode past with Dwaymenau's boy on his shoulder,
laughing with cruel glee.

And this boy, Mindon, was beautiful and strong as his mother, pale olive
of face, with the dark and crafty eyes of the cunning Indian traders,
with black hair and a body straight, strong and long in the leg for his
years--apt at the beginnings of bow, sword and spear--full of promise,
if the promise was only words and looks.

And so matters rested in the palace until Ananda had ten years and
Mindon nine.

It was the warm and sunny winter and the days were pleasant, and on a
certain day the Queen, Maya, went with her ladies to worship the Blessed
One at the Thapinyu Temple, looking down upon the swiftly flowing river.
The temple was exceedingly rich and magnificent, so gilded with pure
gold-leaf that it appeared of solid gold. And about the upper part were
golden bells beneath the jewelled knee, which wafted very sweetly in
the wind and gave forth a crystal-clear music. The ladies bore in their
hands more gold-leaf, that they might acquire merit by offering this
for the service of the Master of the Law, and indeed this temple was
the offering of the Queen herself, who, because she bore the name of
the Mother of the Lord, excelled in good works and was the Moon of this
lower world in charity and piety.

Though wan with grief and anxiety, this Queen was beautiful. Her eyes,
like mournful lakes of darkness, were lovely in the pale ivory of
her face. Her lips were nobly cut and calm, and by the favour of the
Guardian Nats, she was shaped with grace and health, a worthy mother of
kings. Also she wore her jewels like a mighty princess, a magnificence
to which all the people shikoed as she passed, folding their hands and
touching the forehead while they bowed down, kneeling.

Before the colossal image of the Holy One she made her offering and,
attended by her women, she sat in meditation, drawing consolation from
the Tranqui