Courtier. Like the tinkling of her jewels, for instance, or the fragrance of her garlands.
Sansthānaka. I hear the shmell of her garlands, but my nose is shtuffed so full of darkness that I don't shee the shound of her jewels very clearly.
Courtier. [To Vasantasenā. Aside.] Vasantasenā,
'Tis true, the night is dark, O timid maid,
And like the lightning hidden in the cloud,
You are not seen; yet you will be betrayed
By fragrant garlands and by anklets loud. 35
Have you heard me, Vasantasenā?
Vasantasenā. To herself.] Heard and understood. [She removes the ankle-rings, lays aside the garlands, and takes a few steps, feeling her way.] I can feel the wall of the house, and here is a side-entrance. But alas! my fingers tell me that the door is shut.
Chārudatta [who is within the house]. Comrade, my prayer is done. Go now and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
Maitreya. No, I'm not going.
Chārudatta. Alas!
The poor man's kinsmen do not heed his will;
The friends who loved him once, now stand afar;
His sorrows multiply; his strength is nil;
Behold! his character's bright-shining star
Fades like the waning moon; and deeds of ill
That others do, are counted to him still. 36
And again:
No man holds converse with him; none will greet
With due respect the poor man when they meet.
Where rich men hold a feast, if he draw near,
