Fasht to my head the heated shun-beam clings; Birds, flying creatures, alsho wingèd things Resht in the branches of the trees, while men, People, and pershons shigh and shigh again; At home they tarry, in their houses shtay, To bear the heat and burden of the day. 12
Well, shir, that shervant is n't here yet. I 'm going to shing shomething to passh the time. [_He sings._] There, shir, did you hear what I shang?
_Courtier._ What shall I say? Ah, how melodious!
_Sansthanaka._ Why _should n't_ it be malodorous?
Of nut-grass and cumin I make up a pickle, Of devil's-dung, ginger, and orris, and treacle; That's the mixture of perfumes I eagerly eat; Why should n't my voice be remarkably shweet? 13
Well, shir, I 'm jusht going to shing again, [_He does so._] There, shir, did you hear what I shang?
_Courtier._ What shall I say? Ah, how melodious!
_Sansthanaka._ Why _should n't_ it be malodorous?
Of the flesh of the cuckoo I make up a chowder, With devil's-dung added, and black pepper powder; With oil and with butter I shprinkle the meat: Why should n't my voice be remarkably shweet? 14
_Courtier._ Be easy in your mind. He will be here presently.
[_Enter Vasantasena in the bullock-cart, and Sthavaraka._]
_Sthavaraka._ I 'm frightened. It is already noon. I hope Sansthanaka, the king's brother-in-law, will not be angry. I must drive faster. Get up, bullocks, get up!
_Vasantasena._ Alas! That is not Vardhamanaka's voice. What does it mean? I wonder if Charudatta was afraid that the bullocks might become weary, and so sent another man with another cart. My right eye twitches. My heart is all a-tremble. There is no one in sight. Everything seems to dance before my eyes.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Hearing the sound of wheels._] The cart is here, shir.
_Sansthanaka._ Can't you shee? It shqueaks like an old hog.
_Courtier._ [_Perceives the cart._] Quite true. It is here.
_Sansthanaka._ Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave, are you here?
_Sthavaraka._ [_Laughing._] Yes, master, I am here too.
_Sansthanaka._ Right here, where the wall is tumbling down.
_Sthavaraka._ Oh, master, the bullocks will be killed. The cart will go to pieces. And I, your servant, shall be killed.
_Sansthanaka._ I'm the king's brother-in-law, man. If the bullocks are killed, I 'll buy shome more. If the cart goes to pieces, I 'll have another one made. If you are killed, there will be another driver.