Page:Tales of the Punjab.pdf/178

156

'If that is your mourning, I'll mourn too!' cried the Prince, and seizing his tambourine, he began to thump on it with a will.Hearing the noise, the King came, in, and asked what was the matter.

'This is the matter!' cried the Prince, drumming away with all his might {{block center| 'The ugly hen painted By jealousy tainted, The pretty hen dyed. Lamenting his bride. The cock, bald and bare, Sobs loud in despair; By shedding its leaves; The buffalo mourns By casting her horns; The stream, weeping fast, Growa briny at last;