_Courtier._ How do you know?

_Sansthanaka._ Can't you shee? It shqueaks like an old hog.

_Courtier._ [_Perceives the cart._] Quite true. It is here.

_Sansthanaka._ Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave, are you here?

_Sthavaraka._ Yes, sir.

_Sansthanaka._ Is the cart here?

P. 194.9]

_Sthavaraka._ Yes, sir.

_Sansthanaka._ Are the bullocks here?

_Sthavaraka._ Yes, sir.

_Sansthanaka._ And are you here?

_Sthavaraka._ [_Laughing._] Yes, master, I am here too.

_Sansthanaka._ Then drive the cart in.

_Sthavaraka._ By which road?

_Sansthanaka._ Right here, where the wall is tumbling down.

_Sthavaraka._ Oh, master, the bullocks will be killed. The cart will go to pieces. And I, your servant, shall be killed.

_Sansthanaka._ I'm the king's brother-in-law, man. If the bullocks are killed, I 'll buy shome more. If the cart goes to pieces, I 'll have another one made. If you are killed, there will be another driver.

_Sthavaraka._ Everything will be replaced--except me.

_Sansthanaka._ Let the whole thing go to pieces. Drive in over the wall.

_Sthavaraka._ Then break, cart, break with your driver. There will be another cart. I must go and present myself to my master. [_He drives in._] What! not broken? Master, here is your cart.

_Sansthanaka._ The bullocks not shplit in two? and the ropes not killed? and you too not killed?

_Sthavaraka._ No, sir.

_Sansthanaka._ Come, shir. Let's look at the cart. You are my teacher, shir, my very besht teacher. You are a man I reshpect, my intimate friend, a man I delight to honor. Do you enter the cart firsht.

_Courtier._ Very well. [_He starts to do so._]

_Sansthanaka._ Not much! Shtop! Is thish your father's cart, that you should enter it firsht? I own thish cart. I 'll enter it firsht.

_Courtier._ I only did what you said.

[119.8. S.

_Sansthanaka._ Even if I do shay sho, you ought to be polite enough to shay "After you, mashter."

_Courtier._ After you, then.

_Sansthanaka._ Now I 'll enter. Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave, turn the cart around.

_Sthavaraka._ [_Does so._] Enter, master.

_Sansthanaka._ [_Enters and looks about, then hastily gets out in terror, and falls on the courtier's neck._] Oh, oh, oh! You're a dead man! There's a witch, or a thief, that's sitting and living in my bullock-cart. If it's a witch, we 'll both be robbed. If it's a thief, we 'll both be eaten alive.

_Courtier._ Don't be frightened. How could a witch travel in a bullock-cart? I hope that the heat of the midday sun has not blinded you, so that you became the victim of an hallucination when you saw the shadow of Sthavaraka with the smock on it.

_Sansthanaka._ Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave, are you alive?

_Sthavaraka._ Yes, sir.

_Sansthanaka._ But shir, there's a woman sitting and living in the bullock-cart. Look and shee!

_Courtier._ A woman?

Then let us bow our heads at once and go, Like steers whose eyes the falling raindrops daze; In public spots my dignity I show; On high-born dames I hesitate to gaze. 15

_Vasantasena._ [_In amazement. Aside._] Oh, oh! It is that thorn in my eye, the king's brother-in-law. Alas! the danger is great. Poor woman! My coming hither proves as fruitless as the sowing of a handful of seeds on salty soil. What shall I do now?

_Sansthanaka._ Thish old shervant is afraid and he won't look into the cart. Will you look into the cart, shir?

_Courtier._ I see no harm in that. Yes, I will do it.

P. 198.12]

_Sansthanaka._ Are those things jackals that I shee flying into the air, and are those things crows that walk on all fours? While the witch is chewing him with her eyes, and looking at him with her teeth, I 'll make my eshcape.

_Courtier._ [_Perceives Vasantasena. Sadly to himself._] Is it possible?

The gazelle follows the tiger. Alas!

Her mate is lovely as the autumn moon, Who waits for her upon the sandy dune; And yet the swan will leave him? and will go To dance attendance on a common crow? 16

[_Aside to Vasantasena._] Ah, Vasantasena! This is neither right, nor worthy of you.

Your pride rejected him before, Yet now for gold, and for your mother's will

_Vasantasena._ No! [_She shakes her head._]

_Courtier._ Your nature knows your pride no more; You honor him, a common woman still. 17

Did I not tell[79] you to "serve the man you love, and him you hate"?