_Charudatta._ Oh, my friend, a truce to all your detraction! My poverty of itself prevents me. For consider:
The horse would gladly hasten here and there, But his legs fail him, for his breath departs. So men's vain wishes wander everywhere, Then, weary grown, return into their hearts. 8
If wealth is thine, the maid is thine, For maids are won by gold;
[_Aside._ And not by virtue cold. _Aloud._]
But wealth is now no longer mine, And her I may not hold. 9
_Maitreya._ [_Looks down. Aside._] From the way he looks up and sighs, I conclude that my effort to distract him has simply increased his longing. The proverb is right. "You can't reason with a lover." [_Aloud._] Well, she told me to tell you that she would have to come here this evening. I suppose she isn't satisfied with the necklace and is coming to look for something else.
_Charudatta._ Let her come, my friend. She shall not depart unsatisfied. [_Enter Kumbhilaka._]
The more it rains in sheets, The more my skin gets wet; The more the cold wind beats, The more I shake and fret. 10
I make the sweet flute speak from seven holes, I make the loud lute speak on seven strings; In singing, I essay the donkey's rôles: No god can match my music when he sings. 11
My mistress Vasantasena said to me "Kumbhilaka, go and tell Charudatta that I am coming." So here I am, on my way to Charudatta's house. [_He walks about, and, as he enters, discovers Charudatta._] Here is Charudatta in the orchard. And here is that wretched jackanapes, too. Well, I'll go up to them. What! the orchard-gate is shut? Good! I'll give this jackanapes a hint. [_He throws lumps of mud._]
_Maitreya._ Well! Who is this pelting me with mud, as if I were an apple-tree inside of a fence?
_Charudatta._ Doubtless the pigeons that play on the roof of the garden-house.
_Maitreya._ Wait a minute, you confounded pigeon! With this stick I'll bring you down from the roof to the ground, like an over-ripe mango. [_He raises his stick and starts to run._]
_Charudatta._ [_Holding him back by the sacred cord._] Sit down, my friend. What do you mean? Leave the poor pigeon alone with his mate.
_Kumbhilaka._ What! he sees the pigeon and doesn't see me? Good! I'll hit him again with another lump of mud. [_He does so._]