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Updated: June 23, 2025
Next to Acota stood Mezrimbi, the son of the chief Brahmin, and he, only, could be compared to Acota in personal beauty; but his character was known he was proud, overbearing, and cruel.
Mezrimbi was the only one who was not motionless: he paced up and down in all the anxiety of anticipation and doubt, and at last he stopped, and, tired out with contending feelings, sat down at the foot of a tree, close to where Acota was concealed.
They escaped out of the gardens, and reported to the chief Brahmin the success of the operations, and how they had left him, Acota, in the woods. The old Mezrimbi, upon reflection, thought it advisable that the person of Acota should be in his power, that he might be able to produce him when required upon the ensuing day.
In the meantime the beauteous Princess Babe-bi-bobu had recovered, and was in the arms of Acota, who, resigning her to her attendant maidens, addressed the assembly in a speech of so much eloquence, so much beauty, and so much force, that it was written down in letters of gold, being considered the ne plus ultra of the Souffrarian language; he explained to them the nefarious attempt of Mezrimbi to counteract the will of Heaven, and how he had fallen into the snare which he had laid for others.
"Father," said young Mezrimbi, his beautiful countenance distorted by the vilest passions of Jehanum, "I have planned as follows: I have mutes ready to obey my wishes, and a corrosive burning acid, which will eat deeply into the flesh of the proud Acota. I know that he will pass the time away in the garden of the royal grove. I know even the bower in which he hath wooed and won the fair princess.
Slowly and cautiously did they proceed towards the bower, where, as Mezrimbi had truly said, Acota was waiting for his beloved princess. Fortunately, as they approached, a disturbed snake, hissing in his anger, caused an exclamation from the old brahmin, which aroused Acota from his delicious reverie. Through the foliage he perceived and recognised Mezrimbi, his father, and the mutes.
Mezrimbi was the only one who was not motionless: he paced up and down in all the anxiety of anticipation and doubt, and at last he stopped, and, tired out with contending feelings, sat down at the foot of a tree, close to where Acota was concealed.
Acota, muffled up to the eyes, and dressed in the garments of Mezrimbi, stepped forth, and the chief Brahmin, and all present, in pursuance to his order, prostrated themselves before Acota, with their foreheads in the dust. Acota took that opportunity of removing the shawl, and, when they rose up, stood by the throne, resplendent in his beauty and his pride.
Mezrimbi was considered one of the best poets in Souffra; in fact, he had every talent, but not one virtue. He bent forward in an elegant attitude, and sang as follows: "Who does the nightingale love? Alas! we Know. She sings of her love in the silence of Night, and never tells the name of her adored one. "What are flowers but the language of love?
"I am," exclaimed his son, exhausted with pain and mortification, "I am I was Mezrimbi." "Grandees," cried Acota, "as the chief Brahmin has already asserted, and as you have agreed, in that you behold the finger of Heaven, which ever punishes hypocrisy, cruelty, and injustice;" and the chief Brahmin fell down in a fit, and was carried out, with his unfortunate son Mezrimbi.
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