His courtiers, the great
officers of the realm, as you truly name them, are the richest men in the
country because he knows them to be the greatest rascals. After each
annual reapportionment of the national wealth he settles upon them the
unallotted surplus."
Prostrating myself before the eminent philosopher, I craved his pardon for
my doubt of his sovereign's wisdom and consistency, and begged him to cut
off my head.
"Nay," he said, "you have committed the unpardonable sin and I cannot
consent to bestow upon you the advantages of death. You shall continue to
live the thing that you are."
"What!" I cried, remembering the Lalugwumps and Gnarmag-Zote, "is it
thought in Ghargaroo that death is an advantage, a blessing?"
"Our Sacred Books," he said, "are full of texts affirming the vanity of
life."
"Then," I said, "I infer that the death penalty is unknown to your laws!"
"We have the life penalty instead. Convicted criminals are not only
enriched, as already explained, but by medical attendance kept alive as
long as possible. On the contrary, the very righteous, who have been
rewarded with poverty, are permitted to die whenever it pleases them.
"Do not the Sacred Books of your country teach the vanity of life, the
blessedness of poverty and the wickedness of wealth?"
"They do, O Most Illustrious, they do."
"And your countrymen believe?"
"Surely--none but the foolish and depraved entertain a doubt."
"Then I waste my breath in expounding laws and customs already known to
you.
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