Monk. Ah, there appears a woman's hand, adorned with beautiful gems. What! a second hand? [He examines it with the greatest care.] It seems to me, I recognize this hand. Yes, there is no doubt about it. Surely, this is the hand that saved me. But I must see for myself. [He uncovers the body, looks at it, and recognizes it.] It is my sister in Buddha. [Vasantasenā pants for water.] Ah, she seeks water, and the pond is far away. What shall I do? An idea! I will hold this robe over her and let it drip upon her. [He does so. Vasantasenā recovers consciousness, and raises herself. The monk fans her with his garment.]
Vasantasenā. Who are you, sir?
Monk. Has my sister in Buddha forgotten him whose freedom she bought for ten gold-pieces?
Vasantasenā. I seem to remember, but not just as you say. It were better that I had slept never to waken.
Monk. What happened here, sister in Buddha?
Vasantasenā. [Despairingly.] Nothing but what is fitting for a courtezan.
Monk. Sister in Buddha, support yourself by this creeper[1] that clings to the tree, and rise to your feet. [He bends down the creeper. Vasantasenā takes it in her hand, and rises.]
Monk. In yonder monastery dwells one who is my sister in the faith. There shall my sister in Buddha be restored before she returns home. You must walk very slowly, sister. [He walks about and looks around him.] Make way, good people, make way! This is a young lady, and I am a monk, yet my conduct is above reproach.
The man whose hands, whose lips are free from greed,
Who curbs his senses, he is man indeed.
He little recks, if kingdoms fall or stand;
For heaven is in the hollow of his hand. 47
[Exeunt.
- ↑ A monk may not touch a woman.
