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See any help for it, save this: to fling
Stones at these flocks and drive them to a distance,—
’Gainst parrots who could think of armed resistance?
A cloudlet this the apish heaven that covered,
But heavier, stormier clouds behind it hovered.
Once to the palace Bhandragura hurried,
Fear in his eye, a cloud of cares his brow hid,
Nor did he ring, as was his wont, before he
Withdrew the silks that veiled the throne room’s glory,
He raised the curtain, but stepped back much faster,
For there in full undress, behold! his master
Sprawling about the baldachin and chucking
This way and that the gold imperial pippin,
The globe aloft with cuts of sceptre flipping,
Catching again, in wondrous postures, ducking
And all those capers cutting with it, briefly,
That apes with apples ever cut most liefly.
The minister with fine tact first coughed slightly,
Paused, then coughed louder, paused, again asserted
His presence, paused, then touched the bell rope lightly,
E’en thus, perhaps, the king he’d disconcerted;
There was a thud as if some weight fell down,
And minutes passed ere “Come in” was repeated:
But Bhandragura, entering, on the throne
Already saw the monarch gravely seated:
Th’ imperial apple his unquavering fist held
And every august hair enquiry bristled.
The minister with knee to earth low looted
And raised to heaven sick look and hands: “Confusion!
Ah! king,” he cried, “and were my tongue outrooted
That I need not announce it: Revolution!”
The monarch trembled as that dread word sounded,
