SCENE VII.-The harbour and quay at Kurrachee. Transports and ironclads filling: port, embarkation of troops is rapidly going on. Soldiers from all parts of India throng the land, and intense enthusiasm prevails everywhere.
(Enter Quoins at the head of regiments of cavalry commanded by Rajpoot Chiefs, and English Officers, who form on the Quay.)
Quoins. So far, my men, so good!
About to
embark,
Let him who of his promise doth repent, Speak out and claim exemption : ’tis the wish Of our good Prince, no man shall go with him Whose heart says, Stay at home. How say you then P
Aſative juggler. (Sings.) Our Shah Zadah came to us, And thus to us did say: Now who their Prince will follow, To drive his foes away? Now who their Prince will follow, When he to fight goes forth, With Mismarck's savage Prussians, And the Russians of the north 2
Omnes. We all will go
we all will go
Quoins. At six assemble here again, but now You have an hour for ease and rest.
'Tis well.
Fall out.
Right swiftly sped his message Upon the silent wire, Spread north and east and south and west By the tongues that never tire,
[They fall out. (Enter a detachment of Sikh cavahy led by Har dolph.) Quoins (watching them deftle before him.) Now, by my ſaith ! a right-down gallant set. Not button-perfect may be, nor with belts Pipe-clayed as Kamdux would desire ; but still The very men I’d have with me in fight. Five thousand such as these ! 'Tis strange to see How great a talisman is Guelpho's name. A score of years ago we held our own In India but by sheer and desperate might. And now, obedient to the Prince's call, All Hindostan has rallied to our flag, And burns to be led on against our foe. Tis all a mystery to me !
Till all had heard its purport, And on the trysting day, His faithful followers mustered
All eager for the fray. Up rose the golden morning On mountain and on sea, It gilded all the temples Of sea-laved Kurrachee ; It shone where four score thousand
Were marching to the ships, It fell upon their lances, And turned to gold their tips. From every Indian city That boasts an old-time name,
(Enteran Indian juggler, with his usual apparatus, which, however, he places on one side, and drawing out a ſacket of printed sliºs from a wallet, plays on his tom-tom as he sings in a monotonous voice the following fines, only stopping occasionally to sell copies of the lay to the public).
From every fighting district, That gallant army came : From Agra's marble palaces, From Gwalior's ancient wall,
From Delhi’s granite battlements, They answer to the call;
