for it, I made him this little clay cart. But when I gave it to him, he said "I don't like this little clay cart, Radanikā. Give me my gold cart."
Vasantasenā. Oh, dear! To think that this little fellow has to suffer because others are wealthy. Ah, mighty Fate! the destinies of men, uncertain as the water-drops which fall upon a lotus-leaf, seem to thee but playthings! [Tearfully.] Don't cry, my child. You shall have a gold cart to play with.
Rohasena. Who is she, Radanikā?
Vasantasenā. A slave of your father's, won by his virtues.
Radanikā. My child, the lady is your mother.
Rohasena. That's a lie, Radanikā. If the lady is my mother, why does she wear those pretty ornaments?
Vasantasenā. My child, your innocent lips can say terrible things. [She removes her ornaments. Weeping.] Now I am your mother. You shall take these ornaments and have a gold cart made for you.
Rohasena. Go away! I won't take them. You're crying.
Vasantasenā. [Wiping away her tears.] I'll not cry, dear. There! go and play. [She fills the clay cart with her jewels.] There, dear, you must have a little gold cart made for you. [Exit Radanikā, with Rohasena.
[Enter Vardhamānaka, driving a bullock-cart.]
Vardhamānaka. Radanikā, Radanikā! Tell mistress Vasantasenā that the covered cart is standing ready at the side-door.
Radanikā. [Entering.] Mistress, Vardhamānaka is here, and he says that the cart is waiting at the side-door.
Vasantasenā. He must wait a minute, girl, while I get ready.
Rad. Wait a minute, Vardhamānaka, while she gets ready. [Exit.
Vardhamānaka. Hello, I've forgotten the cushion. I must go and get it. But the nose-rope makes the bullocks skittish. I suppose I had better take the cart along with me. [Exit.
