of the time
they are yours.

_Sthavaraka._ They should be worn only by my master. What have
I to do with such things?

_Sansthanaka._ Go along! Take these bullocks, and wait in the tower
of my palace until I come.

_Sthavaraka._ Yes, master. [_Exit._

_Sansthanaka._ The gentleman has made himshelf invisible. He
wanted to save himshelf. And the shlave I 'll put in irons in the palace
tower, and keep him there. And sho the shecret will be shafe.
I 'll go along, but firsht I 'll take a look at her. Is she dead, or shall
I murder her again? [_He looks at Vasantasena._] Dead as a doornail!
Good! I 'll cover her with thish cloak. No, it has my name
on it. Shome honesht man might recognize it. Well, here are shome
dry leaves that the wind has blown into a heap. I 'll cover her
with them. [_He does so, then pauses to reflect._] Good! I 'll do it
thish way. I 'll go to court at once, and there I 'll lodge a complaint.
I 'll shay that the merchant Charudatta enticed Vasantasena into
my old garden Pushpakaranda, and killed her for her money.

Yesh, Charudatta musht be shlaughtered now,
And I 'll invent the plan, forgetting pity;
The shacrificing of a sinless cow
Is cruel in the kindesht-hearted city. 44

Now I 'm ready to go. [_He starts to go away, but perceives something
that frightens him._] Goodnessh gracioush me! Wherever I
go, thish damned monk comes with his yellow robes. I bored a hole
in his nose once and drove him around, and he hates me. Perhaps
he'll shee me, and will tell people that I murdered her. How shall
I eshcape? [_He looks about._] Aha! I 'll jump over the wall where
it is half fallen down, and eshcape that way.

[133.8. S.

I run, I run, I go,
In heaven, on earth below,
In hell, and in Ceylon,
Hanumat's peaks upon--
Like Indra's self, I go. [_Exit._] 45

[_Enter hurriedly the Buddhist monk, ex-shampooer._]

_Monk._ I 've washed these rags of mine. Shall I let them dry on a
branch? no, the monkeys would steal them. On the ground? the
dust would make them dirty again. Well then, where shall I spread
them out to dry? [_He looks about._] Ah, here is a pile of dry leaves
which the wind has blown into a heap. I 'll spread them out on
that. [_He does so._] Buddha be praised! [_He sits down._] Now I will
repeat a hymn of the faith.

Who slays the Five Men, and the Female Bane