an elephant might break loose, and the prisoner might escape in the excitement. Perhaps there might be a change of kings, and all the prisoners might be set free."
Sansthānaka. What? What? A change of kings?
Goha. Well, let's reckon it out, whose turn it is.
Sansthānaka. Oh, come! Kill Chārudatta at once. [He takes Sthāvaraka, and withdraws a little.]
Headsmen. Noble Chārudatta, it is the king's commandment that bears the blame, not we headsmen. Think then of what you needs must think.
Chārudatta. Though slandered by a cruel fate,
And stained by men of high estate,
If that my virtue yet regarded be,
Then she who dwells with gods above
Or wheresoever else—my love—
By her sweet nature wipe the stain from me! 34
Tell me. Whither would you have me go?
Goha. [Pointing ahead.] Why, here is the southern burying-ground, and when a criminal sees that, he says good-by to life in a minute. For look!
One half the corpse gaunt jackals rend and shake,
And ply their horrid task;
One half still hangs impaled upon the stake,
Loud laughter's grinning mask. 35
Chārudatta. Alas! Ah, woe is me! [In his agitation he sits down.]
Sansthānaka. I won't go yet. I'll jusht shee Chārudatta killed. [He walks about, gazing.] Well, well! He shat down.
Goha. Are you frightened, Chārudatta?
Chārudatta. [Rising hastily.] Fool!
Death have I never feared, but blackened fame;
My death were welcome, coming free from shame,
As were a son, new-born to bear my name. (27)
