The man, with meal and powder strewn,
Is now to beast of offering grown. 5
[He gazes intently before him.] Alas for human differences! [Mournfully.]
For when they see the fate that I must brave,
With tears for death's poor victim freely given,
The citizens cry "shame," yet cannot save,—
Can only pray that I attain to heaven. 6
Headsmen. Out of the way, gentlemen, out of the way! Why do you gaze upon him?
God Indra moving through the sky,[1]
The calving cow, the falling star,
The good man when he needs must die,
These four behold not from afar. 7
Goha. Look, Ahīnta! Look, man!
While he, of citizens the best,
Goes to his death at fate's behest
Does heaven thus weep that he must die?
Does lightning paint the cloudless sky? 8
Ahīnta. Goha, man,
The heaven weeps not that he must die,
Nor lightning paints the cloudless sky;
Yet streams are falling constantly
From many a woman's clouded eye. 9
And again:
While this poor victim to his death is led,
No man nor woman here but sorely weeps;
And so the dust, by countless tear-drops fed,
Thus peacefully upon the highway sleeps. 10
Chārudatta. [Gazes intently. Mournfully.]
These women, in their palaces who stay,
- ↑ That is, the lightning.
