of thish poor man,
Charudatta. Now I 'll climb up the tower of my own palace, and have a
look at my own heroic deeds. [_He does so and looks about._] Wonderful
what a crowd there is, to shee that poor man led to his death! What
would it be when an arishtocrat, a big man like me, was being led to his
death? [_He gazes._] Look! There he goes toward the shouth, adorned like
a young shteer. But why was the proclamation made near my palace tower,
and why was it shtopped? [_He looks about._] Why, my shlave Sthavaraka
is gone, too. I hope he has n't run away and betrayed the shecret. I
musht go and look for him. [_He descends and approaches the crowd._]

_Sthavaraka._ [_Discovers him._] There he comes, good masters!

_Headsmen._

Give way! Make room! And shut the door!
Be silent, and say nothing more!
Here comes a mad bull through the press,
Whose horns are sharp with wickedness. 30

[164.16. S.

_Sansthanaka._ Come, come, make way! [_He approaches._] Sthavaraka,
my little shon, my shlave, come, let 's go home.

_Sthavaraka._ You scoundrel! Are you not content with the murder
of Vasantasena? Must you try now to murder the noble Charudatta,
that tree of life to all who loved him?

_Sansthanaka._ I am beautiful as a pot of jewels. I kill no woman!

_Bystanders._ Oho! _you_ murdered her, not the noble Charudatta.

_Sansthanaka._ Who shays that?

_Bystanders._ [_Pointing to Sthavaraka._] This honest man.

_Sansthanaka._ [_Fearfully. Aside._] Merciful heavens! Why did n't
I chain that shlave Sthavaraka fasht? Why, he was a witnessh of
my crime. [_He reflects._] I 'll do it thish way. [_Aloud._] Lies, lies,
good gentlemen. Why, I caught the shlave shtealing gold, and I
pounded him, and murdered him, and put him in chains. He hates
me. What he shays can't be true. [_He secretly hands Sthavaraka
a bracelet, and whispers._] Sthavaraka, my little shon, my shlave,
take thish and shay shomething different.

_Sthavaraka._ [_Takes it._] Look, gentlemen, look! Why, he is trying
to bribe me with gold.

_Sansthanaka._ [_Snatches the bracelet from him._] That 's the gold that
I put him in chains for. [_Angrily._] Look here, headsmen! I put
him in charge of my gold-chest, and when he turned thief, I murdered
him and pounded him. If you don't believe it, jusht look
at his back.

_Headsmen._ [_Doing so._] Yes, yes. When a servant is branded that
way, no wonder he tells tales.

_Sthavaraka.