6- Passing of the torch
MAN SINGH rushes in
MAN SINGH
Guess 'tis truly the future king
Who lies on the floor stunned and fainted,
Is this the one for whom priests did sing
And of whom rich portraits were painted?
AKBAR
He was dancing like drunk street dogs
And Babar's Scale's a toy for him,
Falling about like tumbling logs
In the sea of luxury in which he swims
MAN SINGH
That's not the end- your majesty
I found this scroll in a servant's hand,
Ignorant, cocky and may I say lusty,
To dispose it was the Prince's command!
AKBAR
Pick up this boy for I will not
No more shall he have his father's hand,
Strip him off this homy cot
And wrap him up in blankets of sand
Move his eyes from his mother's love
To the wroth scenes of blood and bones,
Go raise him in the battleground now,
Until he is deserving of the Mughal throne!
