fatal cavern; and seen for myself, what outer Mardi is. Say ye true,
comrades, that Willamilla is less lovely than the valleys without?
that there is bright light in the eyes of the maidens of Mina? and
wisdom in the hearts of the old priests of Maramma; that it is
pleasant to tread the green earth where you will; and breathe the
free ocean air? Would, oh would, that I were but the least of yonder
sun-clouds, that look down alike on Willamilla and all places
besides, that I might determine aright. Yet why do I pause? did not
Rani, and Atama, and Mardonna, my ancestors, each see for himself,
free Mardi; and did they not fly the proffered girdle; choosing
rather to be free to come and go, than bury themselves forever in
this fatal glen? Oh Mardi! Mardi! art thou then so fair to
see? Is liberty a thing so glorious? Yet can I be no king, and behold
thee! Too late, too late, to view thy charms and then return. My
sire! my sire! thou hast wrung my heart with this agony of doubt.
Tell me, comrades,--for ye have seen it,--is Mardi sweeter to behold,
than it is royal to reign over Juam? Silent, are ye? Knowing what ye
do, were ye me, would ye be kings? Tell me, Talara.--No king: no
king:--that were to obey, and not command. And none hath Donjalolo
ere obeyed but the king his father. A king, and my voice may be heard
in farthest Mardi, though I abide in narrow Willamilla. My sire! my
sire! Ye flying clouds, what look ye down upon? Tell me, what ye see
abroad? Methinks sweet spices breathe from out the cave."

"Hail, Donjalolo, King of Juam," now sounded with acclamations from
the groves.

Starting, the young prince beheld a multitude approaching: warriors
with spears, and maidens with flowers; and Kubla, a priest, lifting
on high the tasseled girdle of Teei, and waving it toward him.

The young chiefs fell back. Kubla, advancing, came close to the
prince, and unclasping the badge of royalty, exclaimed, "Donjalolo,
this instant it is king or subject with thee: wilt thou be girdled
monarch?"

Gazing one moment up the dark defile, then staring vacantly,
Donjalolo turned and met the eager gaze of Darfi. Stripping off his
mantle, the next instant he was a king.

Loud shouted the multitude, and exulted; but after mutely assisting
at the closing of the cavern, the new-girdled monarch retired sadly
to his dwelling, and was not seen again for many days.

CHAPTER LXXIII
Something More Of The Prince

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