Ah! Had my husband been living, what great joy! How many musical performances! (Weeps).
Soirindri. It is misfortune upon misfortune! Is my mother-in-law mad now?
Saralota. Take our mother-in-law from the bed, my sister; let me take care of her.
Sabitri. Did you write such a letter, that there is no musical performance on this day of joy? (Looking on all sides and having risen from the bed by force, then going to Saralota) I do entreat thee, falling at thy feet, madam, to send another letter to Yama, and bring back my husband for once. Thou art the wife of a Sabeb; else, I would have fallen at thy feet.
Saralota. My mother-in-law, thou lovest me more than a mother, and such words from your mouth have given me more pain than that of death. (Taking hold of the two hands of Sabitri) Observing this your state, my mother, fire is, as it were, raining on my breast.
Sabitri. Thou strumpet, stupid woman, and a Yabana, why dost thou touch me on this eleventh day of the moon?[1] (Takes off her own hand).
Saralota. On hearing such words from your mouth I cannot live (lies down on the ground taking hold of her mother-in-law's feet.) My mother, I shall take leave of this world at your feet. (Weeps).
Sabitri. This is good, that the bad woman is dead. My husband is gone to heaven; but thou shalt go to hell. (Claps with her hand and laughs).
Soirindri. (Rising up) Ah! Ah! Our Saralota is very good-natured. Now having heard harsh words from her mother-in-law she is become exceedingly sorry. (To Sabitri) Come to me mother.
- ↑ This day is kept sacred by the widows of the country.
98
