[_Enters and looks about._] Well! Here in the third court
are these seats, prepared for young gentlemen to sit on. A half-read
book is lying on the gaming-table. And the table itself has
its own dice, made out of gems. And here, again, are courtezans
and old hangers-on at court, past masters in the war and peace of
love, wandering about and holding in their fingers pictures painted
in many colors. Show me the way, madam.

P. 117.4]

_Maid._ Come, sir, and enter the fourth court.

_Maitreya._ [_Enters and looks about._] Well! Here in the fourth
court the drums that maiden fingers beat are booming like the
thunder; the cymbals are falling, as the stars fall from heaven when
their merit is exhausted;[54] the pipe is discoursing music as sweet
as the humming of bees. And here, again, is a lute that somebody
is holding on his lap like a girl who is excited by jealousy and
love, and he is stroking it with his fingers. And here, again, are
courtezan girls that sing as charmingly as honey-drunken bees,
and they are made to dance and recite a drama with love in it.
And water-coolers are hanging in the windows so as to catch the
breeze. Show me the way, madam.

_Maid._ Come, sir, and enter the fifth court.

_Maitreya._ [_Enters and looks about._] Well! Here in the fifth court
the overpowering smell of asafetida and oil is attractive enough
to make a poor devil's mouth water. The kitchen is kept hot all
the time, and the gusts of steam, laden with all sorts of good
smells, seem like sighs issuing from its mouth-like doors. The
smell of the preparation of all kinds of foods and sauces makes me
smack my lips. And here, again, is a butcher's boy washing a mess
of chitterlings as if it were an old loin-cloth. The cook is preparing
every kind of food. Sweetmeats are being constructed, cakes
are being baked. [_To himself._] I wonder if I am to get a chance to
wash my feet and an invitation to eat what I can hold. [_He looks
in another direction._] There are courtezans and bastard pages,
adorned with any number of jewels, just like Gandharvas[55] and
Apsarases.[56] Really, this house is heaven. Tell me, who are you
bastards anyway?

[70.13. S.

_Pages._ Why, we are bastard pages--

Petted in a stranger's court.
Fed on stranger's food,
Stranger's money makes us sport--
Not so very good.
Stranger women gave us birth.
Stranger men begot;
Baby elephants in mirth,
We're a bastard lot.