Thy throne is
surrounded by armies, numerous as the locusts of
the summer, and resistless as the blasts of pestilence.
Thy magazines are stored with ammunition, thy
treasures overflow with the tribute of conquered
kingdoms. Plenty waves upon thy fields, and opulence
glitters in thy cities. Thy nod is as the earthquake
that shakes the mountains, and thy smile as
the dawn of the vernal day. In thy hand is the
strength of thousands, and thy health is the health
of millions. Thy palace is gladdened by the song of
praise, and thy path perfumed by the breath of
benediction. Thy subjects gaze upon thy greatness,
and think of danger or misery no more. Why,
Seged, wilt not thou partake the blessings thou
bestowest? Why shouldst thou only forbear to rejoice
in this general felicity? Why should thy face be
clouded with anxiety, when the meanest of those
who call thee sovereign, gives the day to festivity,
and the night to peace? At length, Seged, reflect
and be wise. What is the gift of conquest but safety?
Why are riches collected but to purchase happiness?"
Seged then ordered the house of pleasure, built
in an island of the lake of Dambea, to be prepared for
his reception.
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