And countless other servants of the prince
There gathered each in his accustomed seat.

Then from the gate approached a trusty page,
And said with folded hands and trembling lips--
"O royal master, at the gate there waits
A man of noble mien from the far north
Requesting audience on affairs of state."
"Conduct him to our presence," said the prince.
The stranger came,--upon the floor he knelt
And said--"Thou mighty prince of these fair lands,
I come from Arcot, and the Nabob sent
His humble servant to demand of thee
Thy dues which these five years thou hast not paid.
Know, then, if these are not now duly paid,
From thee he will these broad dominions wrest,
And give them those who will his rule obey."
The angry prince made answer--"Go and tell
Your master that his vain threats move us not,
Say we will gladly meet him on the field."
So saying, from his royal seat he rose,
And to his palace instantly withdrew.

As when a stone dropped in the middle of
A placid pool its slumb'ring waters wakes,
And the calm surface is all ruffled seen,
Or at the merest touch of ruthless man
Bent on the honeyed treasures of the hive
Those myriad ones leave murm'ring to the foe
Their hoarded wealth to which they fondly clung,