Scene.--The wooded heights of Simla. The Incarnation of
the Government of India in the raiment of the Angel of Plenty
sings, to pianoforte accompaniment:--
"How sweet is the shepherd's sweet life!
From the dawn to the even he strays--
And his tongue shall be filled with praise.
(adagio dim.) Filled with praise!"
(largendo con sp.) Now this is the position,
Go make an inquisition
Into their real condition
As swiftly as ye may.
(p) Ay, paint our swarthy billions
The richest of vermillions
Ere two well-led cotillions
Have danced themselves away.
Turkish Patrol, as able and intelligent Investigators wind
down the Himalayas:--
What is the state of the Nation? What is its occupation?
Hi! get along, get along, get along--lend us the information!
(dim.) Census the byle and the yabu--capture a first-class Babu,
Set him to file Gazetteers--Gazetteers . . .
(ff) What is the state of the Nation, etc., etc.
Interlude, from Nowhere in Particular, to stringed and Oriental
instruments.
Our cattle reel beneath the yoke they bear--
The earth is iron and the skies are brass--
And faint with fervour of the flaming air
The languid hours pass.
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