'Fortunately,' said our cicerone, 'the fellow died before the Emperor
had learnt enough to practise the art without his aid.'
Shaikh Salim had, he declared, gone more than twenty times on
pilgrimage to the tomb of the holy prophet; and was not much pleased
to have his repose so much disturbed by the noise and bustle of the
imperial court. At last, Akbar wanted to surround the hill with
regular fortifications, and the Shaikh could stand it no longer.[20]
'Either you or I must leave this hill,' said he to the Emperor; 'if
the efficacy of my prayers is no longer to be relied upon, let me
depart in peace.' 'If it be _your majesty's_ will,' replied the
Emperor, 'that one should go, let it be your slave, I pray.' The old
story: 'There is nothing like relying upon the efficacy of our
prayers,' say the priests, 'Nothing like relying upon that of our
sharp swords,' say the soldiers; and, as nations advance from
barbarism, they generally contrive to divide between them the surplus
produce of the land and labour of society.
The old hermit consented to remain, and pointed out Agra as a place
which he thought would answer the Emperor's purpose extremely well.
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