while I was helping a villager with his wagon, I suppose she mistook this cart for another, and climbed in.
Sansthānaka. Oho! she mishtook my cart for another? and didn't come to shee me? Get out of my cart, get out! You're going to visit your poor merchant's shon, are you? Those are my bullocks you're driving. Get out, get out, you shlave! Get out, get out!
Vasantasenā. Truly, you honor me when you say that I came to see Chārudatta. Now what must be, must be.
Sansthānaka. These hands of mine, ten-finger-naily,
These hands sho lotush-leafy,
Are itching-anxious, girl, to dally
With you; and in a jiffy
I'll drag Your Shweetness by the hair
From the cart wherein you ride,
As did Jatāyu Bāli's fair,
The monkey Bāli's bride. 20
Courtier. So virtuous ladies may not be
Insulted thus despitefully;
Nor garden creepers may not be
Robbed of their leaves so cruelly. 21
Stand up, man. I will help her to alight. Come, Vasantasenā! [Vasantasenā alights and stands apart.]
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The flame of wrath was kindled when she despised my proposition, and now it blazes up because she kicked me. Sho now I'll murder her. Good! Thish way. [Aloud.] Well, shir, what do you want?
A cloak with fringes hanging down and all,
Tied with a hundred shtrings? or good ragout,
To make you shmack your greedy lips and call
"Chuhoo, chuhoo, chukku, chuhoo, chuhooo"? 22
Courtier. Well?
Sansthānaka. Do me a favor.
