The Chace/Book 2
The Argument of the Second Book.
Of the Power of Instinct in Brutes. Two remarkable Instances in the Hunting of the Roebuck, and in the Hare going to Seat in the Morning. Of the Variety of Seats or Forms of the Hare, according to the Change of the Season, Weather or Wind. Description of the Hare-hunting in all its Parts, interspers'd with Rules to be observ'd by those who follow that Chace. Transition to the Asiatick Way of Hunting, particularly the magnificent Manner of the Great Mogul, and other Tartarian Princes, taken from Monsieur Bernier, and the History of Gengiskan the Great. Concludes with a Short Reproof of Tyrants and Oppressors of Mankind.
BOOK the Second.
Nor will it less delight th' attentive SageT'observe that Instinct, which unerring guides The brutal Race, which mimicks Reason's Lore And oft transcends: Heav'n-taught the Roe-buck swift Loiters at Ease before the driving Pack, 5 And mocks their vain Pursuit, nor far he flies But checks his Ardour, 'till the steaming Scent That freshens on the Blade, provokes their Rage. Urg'd to their Speed, his weak deluded Foes Soon flag fatigued; strain'd to Excess each Nerve, 10 Each slacken'd Sinew fails; they pant, they foam;Then o'er the Lawn he bounds, o'er the high HillsStretches secure, and leaves the scatter'd CrowdTo puzzle in the distant Vale below.
'Tis Instinct that directs the jealous Hare 15To chuse her soft Abode: With Step revers'dShe forms the doubling Maze; then, e'er the MornPeeps thro' the Clouds, leaps to her close Recess.
As wand'ring Shepherds on th' Arabian PlainsNo settled Residence observe, but shift 20Their moving Camp, now, on some cooler HillWith Cedars crown'd, court the refreshing Breeze;And then, below, where trickling Streams distillFrom some penurious Source, their Thirst allay,And feed their fainting Flocks: So the wise Hares 25Oft quit their Seats, lest some more curious Eye Shou'd mark their Haunts, and by dark treach'rous WilesPlot their Destruction; or perchance in hopesOf plenteous Forage, near the ranker Mead;Or matted Blade, wary, and close they fit. 30When Spring shines forth, Season of Love and Joy,In the moist Marsh, 'mong Beds of Rushes hid,They cool their boiling Blood: When Summer SunsBake the cleft Earth, to thick wide-waving FieldsOf Corn full-grown, they lead their helpless young:But when autumnal Torrents, and fierce RainsDeluge the Vale, in the dry crumbling BankTheir Forms they delve, and cautiously avoidThe dripping Covert: Yet when Winter's ColdTheir Limbs benumbs, thither with Speed return'dIn the long Grass they skulk, or shrinking creepAmong the wither'd Leaves, thus changing still,As Fancy prompts them, or as Food invites. But ev'ry Season carefully observ'd,Th' inconstant Winds, the fickle Element, 45The wise experienc'd Huntsman soon may findHis subtle, various Game, nor waste in vainHis tedious Hours, 'till his impatient HoundsWith Disappointment vex'd, each springing LarkBabling pursue, far scatter'd o'er the Fields. 50
Now golden Autumn from her open LapHer fragrant Bounties show'rs; the Fields are shorn;Inwardly smiling, the proud Farmer viewsThe rising Pyramids that grace his Yard,And counts his large Increase; his Barns are stor'd, 55And groaning Staddles bend beneath their Load.All now is free as Air, and the gay PackIn the rough bristly Stubbles range unblam'd;No Widow's Tears o'erflow, no secret CurseSwells in the Farmer's Breast, which his pale Lips 60 Trembling conceal, by his fierce Landlord aw'd:But courteous now he levels ev'ry Fence,Joins in the common Cry, and hollows loud,Charm'd with the rattling Thunder of the Field.Oh bear me, some kind Pow'r invisible! 65To that extended Lawn, where the gay CourtView the swift Racers, stretching to the Goal;Games more renown'd, and a far nobler Train,Than proud Elean Fields could boast of old.Oh! were a Theban Lyre not wanting here, 70And Pindar's Voice, to do their Merit right!Or to those spacious Plains, where the strain'd EyeIn the wide Prospect lost, beholds at lastSarum's proud Spire, that o'er the Hills ascends,And pierces thro' the Clouds. Or to thy Downs, 75Fair Cotswold, where the well-breath'd Beagle climbs, With matchless Speed, thy green aspiring Brow,And leaves the lagging Multitude behind.
Hail, gentle Dawn! Mild blushing Goddess, hail!Rejoic'd I see thy purple Mantle spread 80O'er half the Skies, Gems pave thy radiant Way,And orient Pearls from ev'ry Shrub depend.Farewel, Cleora; here deep sunk in DownSlumber secure, with happy Dreams amus'd,'Till grateful Steams shall tempt thee to receive 85Thy early Meal, or thy officious Maids,The Toilet plac'd, shall urge thee to performTh'important Work. Me other Joys invite,The Horn sonorous calls, the Pack awak'dTheir Mattins chant, nor brook my long Delay. 90My Courser hears their Voice; see there with EarsAnd Tail erect, neighing he paws the Ground;Fierce Rapture kindles in his red'ning Eyes, And boils in ev'ry Vein. As captive BoysCow'd by the ruling Rod, and haughty Frowns 95Of Pedagogues severe, from their hard TasksIf once dismiss'd, no Limits can containThe Tumult rais'd, within their little Breasts,But give a Loose to all their frolick Play:So from their Kennel rush the joyous Pack; 100A thousand wanton Gayeties expressTheir inward Extasy, their pleasing SportOnce more indulg'd, and Liberty restor'd.The rising Sun that o'er th' Horizon peeps,As many Colours from their glossy Skins 105Beaming reflects, as paint the various BowWhen April Show'rs descend. Delightful Scene!Where all around is gay, Men, Horses, Dogs,And in each smiling Countenance appearsFresh-blooming Health, and universal Joy. 110
Huntsman, lead on! behind the clust'ring PackSubmiss attend, hear with respect thy WhipLoud-clanging, and thy harsher Voice obey:Spare not the straggling Cur, that wildly roves;But let thy brisk Assistant on his Back 115Imprint thy just Resentments; let each LashBite to the Quick, 'till howling he returnAnd whining creep amid the trembling Crowd.
Here on this verdant Spot, where Nature kind,With double Blessings crowns the Farmer's Hopes;Where Flow'rs autumnal Spring, and the rank MeadAffords the wand'ring Hares a rich Repast;Throw off thy ready Pack. See, where they spreadAnd range around, and dash the glitt'ring Dew.If some stanch Hound, with his authentick Voice, Avow the recent Trail, the justling TribeAttend his Call, then with one mutual Cry,The welcome News confirm, and echoing HillsRepeat the pleasing Tale. See how they threadThe Brakes, and up yon Furrow drive along! 130But quick they back recoil, and wisely checkTheir eager Haste; then o'er the fallow'd GroundHow leisurely they work, and many a PauseTh' harmonious Consort breaks; 'till more assur'dWith Joy redoubled the low Vallies ring. 135What artful Labyrinths perplex their Way!Ah! there she lies; how close! she pants, she doubtsIf now the lives; she trembles as she fits,With Horror seiz'd. The wither'd Grass that clingsAround her Head, of the same russet Hue 140Almost deceiv'd my Sight, had not her EyesWith Life full-beaming her vain Wiles betray'd.At Distance draw thy Pack, let all be hush'd, No Clamour loud, no frantick Joy be heard,Lest the wild Hound run gadding o'er the Plain 145Untractable, nor hear thy chiding Voice.Now gently put her off; see how directTo her known Muse she flies! Here, Huntsman, bring(But without hurry) all thy jolly Hounds,And calmly lay them in. How low they stoop, 150And seem to plough the Ground! then all at onceWith greedy Nostrils snuff the fuming SteamThat glads their flutt'ring Hearts. As Winds let looseFrom the dark Caverns of the blust'ring God,They burst away, and sweep the dewy Lawn. 155Hope gives them Wings, while she's spur'd on by Fear.The Welkin rings, Men, Dogs, Hills, Rocks, and WoodsIn the full Consort join. Now, my brave Youths,Stripp'd for the Chace, give all your Souls to Joy! See how their Coursers, than the Mountain Roe 160More fleet, the verdant Carpet skim, thick CloudsSnorting they breath, their shining Hoofs scarce printThe Grass unbruis'd; with Emulation fir'dThey strain to lead the Field, top the barr'd Gate,O'er the deep Ditch exulting bound, and brush 165The thorny-twining Hedge: The Riders bendO'er their arch'd Necks; with steady Hands, by turnsIndulge their Speed, or moderate their Rage.Where are their Sorrows, Disappointments, Wrongs,Vexations, Sickness, Cares? All, all are gone, 170And with the panting Winds lag far behind.
Huntsman! her Gate observe, if in wide RingsShe wheel her mazy Way, in the same RoundPersisting still, she'll foil the beaten Track. But if she fly, and with the fav'ring Wind 175 Urge her bold Course; less intricate thy Task: Push on thy Pack. Like some poor exil'd Wretch The frighted Chace leaves her late dear Abodes, O'er Plains remote she stretches far away, Ah! never to return! For greedy Death 180Hov'ring exults, secure to seize his Prey.
Hark! from yon Covert, where those tow'ring Oaks Above the humble Copse aspiring rise, What glorious Triumphs burst in ev'ry Gale Upon our ravish'd Ears! The Hunters shout, 185The clanging Horns swell their sweet-winding Notes, The Pack wide-op'ning load the trembling Air With various Melody; from Tree to Tree The propagated Cry, redoubling bounds, And winged Zephyrs waft the floating Joy 190 Thro' all the Regions near: Afflictive Birch No more the School-boy dreads, his Prison broke,Scamp'ring he flies, nor heeds his Master's Call;The weary Traveller forgets his Road,And climbs th' adjacent Hill; the Ploughman leavesTh' unfinish'd Furrow; nor his bleating FlocksAre now the Shepherd's Joy; Men, Boys, and GirlsDesert th'unpeopled Village; and wild CrowdsSpread o'er the Plain, by the sweet Frenzy seiz'd.Look, how the pants! and o'er yon op'ning GladeSlips glancing by; while, at the further End,The puzzling Pack unravel Wile by WileMaze within Maze. The Covert's utmost BoundSlyly the skirts; behind them cautious creeps,And in that very Track, so lately stain'd 205By all the steaming Crowd, seems to pursueThe Foe she flies. Let Cavillers denyThat Brutes have Reason; sure 'tis something more, 'Tis Heav'n directs, and Stratagems inspires,Beyond the short Extent of human Thought. 210But hold ——— I see her from the Covert break;Sad on yon little Eminence she sits;Intent she listens with one Ear erect,Pond'ring, and doubtful what new Course to take,And how t'escape the fierce blood-thirsty Crew, 215That still urge on, and still in Vollies loud,Insult her Woes, and mock her sore Distress.As now in louder Peals, the loaded WindsBring on the gath'ring Storm, her Fears prevail;And o'er the Plain, and o'er the Mountain's Ridge,Away she flies; nor Ships with Wind and Tide,And all their Canvass Wings skud half so fast.Once more, ye jovial Train, your Courage try,And each clean Courser's Speed. We scour along,In pleasing Hurry and Confusion tost;Oblivion to be wish'd. The patient Pack Hang on the Scent unweary'd, up they climb,And ardent we pursue; our lab'ring SteedsWe press, we gore; till once the Summit gain'd,Painfully panting, there we breath awhile; 230Then like a foaming Torrent, pouring downPrecipitant, we smoke along the Vale.Happy the Man, who with unrival'd SpeedCan pass his Fellows, and with Pleasure viewThe struggling Pack; how in the rapid Course 235Alternate they preside, and justling pushTo guide the dubious Scent; how giddy YouthOft babbling errs, by wiser Age reprov'd;How niggard of his Strength, the wise old HoundHangs in the Rear, 'till some important Point 240Rouse all his Diligence, or 'till the ChaceSinking he finds; then to the Head he springsWith Thirst of Glory fir'd, and wins the Prize.Huntsman, take heed; they stop in full career. Yon crowding Flocks, that at a Distance gaze, 245Have haply foil'd the Turf. See! that old Hound,How busily he works, but dares not trustHis doubtful Sense; draw yet a wider Ring.Hark! now again the Chorus fills. As BellsSally'd a while at once their Peal renew, 250And high in Air the tuneful Thunder rolls.See, how they toss, with animated RageRecov'ring all they lost! ——— That eager HasteSome doubling Wile foreshews. ——— Ah! yet once moreThey're check'd, ——— hold back with Speed ——— on either Hand 255They flourish round ——— ev'n yet persist ——— 'Tis right,Away they spring; the rustling Stubbles bendBeneath the driving Storm. Now the poor ChaceBegins to flag, to her last Shifts reduc'd. From Brake to Brake she flies, and visits all 260Her well-known Haunts, where once she rang'd secure,With Love and Plenty blest. See! there she goes,She reels along, and by her Gate betraysHer inward Weakness. See, how black she looks!The Sweat that clogs th' obstructed Pores, scarce leaves 265A languid Scent. And now in open ViewSee, see, she flies! each eager Hound exertsHis utmost Speed, and stretches ev'ry Nerve.How quick she turns! their gaping Jaws eludes,And yet a Moment lives; 'till round inclos'd 270By all the greedy Pack, with infant ScreamsShe yields her Breath, and there reluctant dies.So when the furious Bacchanals assail'dThreician Orpheus, poor ill-fated Bard! Loud was the Cry, Hills, Woods, and Hebrus' Banks, 275Return'd their clam'rous Rage; distress'd he flies,Shifting from Place to Place, but flies in vain;For eager they pursue, 'till panting, faint,By noisy Multitudes o'erpower'd, he sinks,To the relentless Crowd a bleeding Prey. 280
The Huntsman now, a deep Incision made,Shakes out with Hands impure, and dashes downHer reeking Entrails, and yet quiv'ring Heart.These claim the Pack, the bloody PerquisiteFor all their Toils. Strech'd on the Ground she lies, 285A mangled Coarse; in her dim glaring EyesCold Death exults, and stiffens ev'ry Limb.Aw'd by the threat'ning Whip, the furious HoundsAround her Bay; or at their Master's Foot, Each happy Fav'rite courts his kind Applause, 290With humble Adulation cow'ring low.All now is Joy. With Cheeks full-blown they windHer solemn Dirge, while the loud-op'ning PackThe Concert swell, and Hills and Dales returnThe sadly-pleasing Sounds. Thus the poor Hare, 295A puny, dastard Animal, but vers'dIn subtle Wiles, diverts the youthful Train.But if thy proud, aspiring Soul disdainsSo mean a Prey, delighted with the Pomp,Magnificence and Grandeur of the Chace; 300Hear what the Muse from faithful Records sings.
Why on the Banks of Gemna, Indian Stream,Line within Line, rise the Pavilions proud,Their silken Streamers waving in the Wind? Why neighs the warrior Horse? From Tent to Tent, 305Why press in Crowds the buzzing Multitude?Why shines the polish'd Helm, and pointed Lance,This Way and that far-beaming o'er the Plain?Nor Visapour nor Golconda rebel;Nor the great Sophy, with his num'rous Host 310Lays waste the Provinces; nor Glory firesTo rob, and to destroy, beneath the NameAnd specious Guise of War. A nobler CauseCalls Aurengzebe to Arms. No Cities sack'd,No Mother's Tears, no helpless Orphan's Cries, 315No violated Leagues, with sharp RemorseShall sting the conscious Victor: But MankindShall hail him good and just. For 'tis on BeastsHe draws his vengeful Sword; on Beasts of PreyFull-fed with humane Gore. See, see, he comes! 320Imperial Dehli op'ning wide her Gates, Pours out her thronging Legions, bright in Arms,And all the Pomp of War. Before them soundClarions and Trumpets, breathing martial Airs,And bold Defiance. High upon his Throne, 325Born on the Back of his proud Elephant,Sits the great Chief of Tamur's glorious Race:Sublime he sits, amid the radiant BlazeOf Gems and Gold. Omrahs about him crowd,And rein th' Arabian Steed, and watch his Nod: 330And potent Rajahs, who themselves presideO'er Realms of wide Extent; but here submissTheir Homage pay, alternate Kings and Slaves.Next these with prying Eunuchs girt around,The fair Sultanas of his Court; a Troop 335Of chosen Beauties, but with Care conceal'dFrom each intrusive Eye; one Look is Death.Ah cruel Eastern Law! (had Kings a Pow'rBut equal to their wild tyrannick Will) To rob us of the Sun's all-chearing Ray, 340Were less severe. The Vulgar close the March,Slaves and Artificers; and Dehli mournsHer empty and depopulated Streets.Now at the Camp arriv'd, with stern Review,Thro' Groves of Spears, from File to File, he dartsHis sharp experienc'd Eye; their Order marks,Each in his Station rang'd, exact and firm,'Till in the boundless Line his Sight is lost.Not greater Multitudes in Arms appear'd,On these extended Plains, when Ammon's Son 350With mighty Porus in dread Battle join'd,The Vassal World the Prize. Nor was that HostMore numerous of old, which the great [1]KingPour'd out on Greece from all th'unpeopled East;That bridg'd the Hellespont from Shore to Shore, 355And drank the Rivers dry. Mean while in Troops The busy Hunter-train mark out the Ground,A wide Circumference; full many a LeagueIn Compass round; Woods, Rivers, Hills, and Plains,Large Provinces, enough to gratify 360Ambition's highest Aim, could Reason boundMan's erring Will. Now sit in close DivanThe mighty Chiefs of this prodigious Host.He from the Throne high-eminent presides,Gives out his Mandates proud, Laws of the Chace,From ancient Records drawn. With Rev'rence low,And prostrate at his Feet, the Chiefs receiveHis irreversible Decrees, from whichTo vary, is to die. Then his brave BandsEach to his Station leads; encamping round, 370'Till the wide Circle is compleatly form'd.Where decent Order reigns, what these commandThose execute with Speed, and punctual Care; In all the strictest Discipline of War:As if some watchful Foe, with bold Insult, 375Hung low'ring o'er their Camp. The high Resolve,That flies on Wings, thro' all th'encircling Line,Each Motion steers, and animates the whole.So by the Sun's attractive Pow'r controll'd,The Planets in their Spheres roll round his Orb, 380On all he shines, and rules the great Machine.
E'er yet the Morn dispels the fleeting Mists,The Signal giv'n by the loud Trumpet's Voice,Now high in Air, th' Imperial Standard waves,Emblazon'd rich with Gold, and glitt'ring Gems;And like a Sheet of Fire, thro' the dun GloomStreaming meteorous. The Soldiers Shouts,And all the brazen Instruments of War,With mutual Clamour, and united Din, Fill the large Concave. While from Camp to Camp, 390They catch the varied Sounds, floating in Air.Round all the wide Circumference, Tygers fellShrink at the Noise, deep in his gloomy DenThe Lion starts, and Morsels yet unchew'dDrop from his trembling Jaws. Now all at onceOnward they march embattled, to the SoundOf martial Harmony; Fifes, Cornets, Drums,That rouse the sleepy Soul to Arms, and boldHeroick Deeds. In Parties here and thereDetach'd o'er Hill and Dale, the Hunters range 400Inquisitive; strong Dogs that match in FightThe boldest Brute, around their Masters wait,A faithful Guard. No Haunt unsearch'd, they driveFrom ev'ry Covert, and from ev'ry Den,The lurking Savages. Incessant Shouts 405Re-echo thro' the Woods, and kindling Fires Gleam from the Mountain Tops; the Forest seemsOne mingling Blaze: Like Flocks of Sheep they flyBefore the flaming Brand: Fierce Lions, Pards,Boars, Tygers, Bears, and Wolves; a dreadful Crew 410Of grim blood-thirsty Foes: growling along,They stalk indignant; but fierce Vengeance stillHangs pealing on their Rear, and pointed SpearsPresent immediate Death. Soon as the NightWrapt in her sable Veil forbids the Chace, 415They pitch their Tents, in even Ranks, aroundThe circling Camp. The Guards are plac'd, and FiresAt proper Distances ascending rise,And paint th' Horizon with their ruddy Light.So round some Island's Shore of large Extent, 420Amid the gloomy Horrors of the Night,The Billows breaking on the pointed Rocks, Seem all one Flame, and the bright Circuit wideAppears a Bulwark of surrounding Fire.What dreadful Howlings, and what hideous Roar, 425Disturb those peaceful Shades! where erst the BirdThat glads the Night, had chear'd the list'ning GrovesWith sweet Complainings. Thro' the silent GloomOft they the Guards assail; as oft repell'dThey fly reluctant, with hot-boiling Rage 430Stung to the Quick, and mad with wild Despair.Thus Day by Day, they still the Chace renew;At Night encamp; 'till now in streighter BoundsThe Circle lessens, and the Beasts perceiveThe Wall that hems them in on ev'ry Side. 435And now their Fury bursts, and knows no Mean;From Man they turn, and point their ill-judg'd RageAgainst their fellow Brutes. With Teeth and ClawsThe Civil War begins; grapling they tear, Lions on Tygers prey, and Bears on Wolves: 440Horrible Discord! 'Till the Crowd behindShouting pursue, and part the bloody Fray.At once their Wrath subsides; tame as the LambThe Lion hangs his Head, the furious Pard,Cow'd and subdu'd, flies from the Face of Man, 445Nor bears one Glance of his commanding Eye.So abject is a Tyrant in Distress.
At last within the narrow Plain confin'd,A listed Field, mark'd out for bloody Deeds,An Amphitheatre more glorious far 450Than ancient Rome cou'd boast, they crowd in heaps,Dismay'd, and quite appall'd. In meet ArraySheath'd in refulgent Arms, a noble BandAdvance; great Lords of high Imperial Blood,Early resolv'd t'assert their Royal Race, 455And prove by glorious Deeds their Valour's Growth Mature, e'er yet the callow Down has spread Its curling Shade. On bold Arabian Steeds With decent Pride they sit, that fearless hear The Lion's dreadful Roar; and down the Rock 460Swift-shooting plunge, or o'er the Mountain's Ridge Stretching along, the greedy Tyger leave Panting behind. On Foot their faithful Slaves With Javelins arm'd attend; each watchful Eye Fix'd on his youthful Care, for him alone 465He fears, and to redeem his Life, unmov'd Wou'd lose his own. The mighty Aurengzebe, From his high-elevated Throne, beholds His blooming Race; revolving in his Mind. What once he was, in his gay Spring of Life, 470When Vigour strung his Nerves. Parental Joy Melts in his Eyes, and flushes in his Cheeks. Now the loud Trumpet sounds a Charge. The Shouts Of eager Hosts, thro' all the circling Line, And the wild Howlings of the Beasts within 475Rend wide the Welkin, Flights of Arrows, wing'd With Death, and Javelins lanc'd from ev'ry Arm, Gall sore the brutal Bands, with many a Wound Gor'd thro' and thro'. Despair at last prevails, When fainting Nature shrinks, and rouses all 480Their drooping Courage. Swell'd with furious Rage, Their Eyes dart Fire; and on the youthful Band They rush implacable. They their broad Shields Quick interpose; on each devoted Head Their flaming Falchions, as the Bolts of Jove, 485Descend unerring. Prostrate on the GroundThe grinning Monsters lye, and their foul Gore Defiles the verdant Plain. Nor idle stand The trusty Slaves; with pointed Spears they pierce Thro' their tough Hides; or at their gaping Mouths An easier Passage find. The King of Brutes In broken Roarings breaths his last; the Bear Grumbles in Death; nor can his spotted Skin,Tho' slick it shine, with varied Beauties gay,Save the proud Pard from unrelenting Fate. 495The Battle bleeds, grim Slaughter strides along,Glutting her greedy Jaws, grins o'er her Prey.Men, Horses, Dogs, fierce Beasts of ev'ry kind,A strange promiscuous Carnage, drench'd in Blood,And Heaps on Heaps amass'd. What yet remain 500Alive, with vain Assault contend to breakTh' impenetrable Line. Others, whom FearInspires with self-preserving Wiles, beneathThe Bodies of the Slain for Shelter creep.Aghast they fly, or hide their Heads dispers'd. 505And now perchance (had Heav'n but pleas'd) the WorkOf Death had been compleat; and AurengzebeBy one dread Frown extinguish'd half their Race.When lo! the bright Sultanas of his Court Appear, and to his ravish'd Eyes display 510Those Charms, but rarely to the Day reveal'd.
Lowly they bend, and humbly sue, to save The vanquish'd Host. What Mortal can deny When suppliant Beauty begs? At his Command Op'ning to Right and Left, the well-train'd Troops Leave a large Void for their retreating Foes. Away they fly, on Wings of Fear upborn, To seek on distant Hills their late Abodes,
Ye proud Oppressors, whose vain Hearts exult In Wantonness of Pow'r, 'gainst the brute Race, 520Fierce Robbers like your selves, a guiltless War Wage uncontroll'd: Here quench your Thirst of Blood; But learn from Aurengzebe to spare Mankind.
- ↑ Xerxes.