ACT THE EIGHTH
THE STRANGLING OF VASANTASENA
[Enter a monk, with a wet garment in his hand.]
Monk.
YE ignorant, lay by a store of virtue!
Restrain the belly; watch eternally,
Heeding the beat of contemplation's[1] drum.
For else the senses—fearful thieves they be—
Will steal away all virtue's hoarded sum. 1
And further: I have seen that all things are transitory, so that now I am become the abode of virtues alone.
Who slays the Five Men,[2] and the Female Bane,[3]
By whom protection to the Town[4] is given,
By whom the Outcaste[5] impotent is slain,
He cannot fail to enter into heaven. 2
Though head be shorn and face be shorn,
The heart unshorn, why should man shave him?
But he whose inmost heart is shorn
Needs not the shaven head to save him. 3
I have dyed this robe of mine yellow. And now I will go into the garden of the king's brother-in-law, wash it in the pod, and go away as soon as I can. [He walks about and washes the robe.]
A voice behind the scenes. Shtop, you confounded monk, shtop!
Monk. [Discovers the speaker. Fearfully.] Heaven help me! Here is the king's brother-in-law, Sansthānaka. Just because one monk committed an offense, now, wherever he sees a monk, whether it is the same one or not, he bores a hole in his nose and drives him around like a bullock. Where shall a defenseless man find a defender? But after all, the blessed Lord Buddha is my defender.
