And a spear- headed scepter graced the right hand of the king.
Now, for all the rant of your democrats, a fine king on a throne is a very fine sight to behold.

He looks very much like a god.

No wonder that his more dutiful subjects so swore, that their good lord and master King Media was demi-divine.
A king on his throne! Ah, believe me, ye Gracchi, ye Acephali, ye Levelers, it is something worth seeing, be sure; whether beheld at Babylon the Tremendous, when Nebuchadnezzar was crowned; at old Scone in the days of Macbeth; at Rheims, among Oriflammes, at the coronation of Louis le Grand; at Westminster Abbey, when the gentlemanly George doffed his beaver for a diadem; or under the soft shade of palm trees on an isle in the sea.
Man lording it over man, man kneeling to man, is a spectacle that Gabriel might well travel hitherward to behold; for never did he behold it in heaven.

But Darius giving laws to the Medes and the Persians, or the conqueror of Bactria with king-cattle yoked to his car, was not a whit more sublime, than Beau Brummel magnificently ringing for his valet.
A king on his throne! It is Jupiter nodding in the councils of Olympus; Satan, seen among the coronets in Hell.
A king on his throne! It is the sun over a mountain; the sun over law-giving Sinai; the sun in our system: planets, duke-like, dancing attendance, and baronial satellites in waiting.
A king on his throne! After all, but a gentleman seated.

And thus sat the good lord, King Media.
Time passed.