Courtier. You are an accursèd scoundrel!
Sansth. I'll give you countless wealth, a piece of gold,
A copper, and a cap, to have and hold.
And sho the fame of thish great deed shall be
A common property, and shan't touch me. 40
Courtier. A curse upon you! Yours, and yours only, be the deed.
Sthāvaraka. Heaven avert the omen! [Sansthānaka bursts out laughing.]
Courtier. Be enmity between us! Cease your mirth!
Damned be a friendship that so shames my worth!
Never may I set eyes on one so low!
I fling you off, an unstrung, broken bow. 41
Sansthānaka. Don't be angry. Come, let's go and play in the pond.
Courtier. Unstained my life, and yet it seems to me
Your friendship stains, and mocks my sinlessness.
You woman-murderer! How could I be
A friend to one whom women ever see
With eyes half-closed in apprehension's stress? 42
[Mournfully.] Vasantasenā,
When thou, sweet maid, art born again,
Be not a courtezan reborn,
But in a house which sinless men,
And virtuous, and good, adorn. 43
Sansthānaka. Firsht you murder Vasantasenā in my old garden Pushpakaranda, and now where will you run to? Come, defend yourshelf in court before my shishter's husband! [He holds him back.]
Courtier. Enough, you accursèd scoundrel! [He draws his sword.]
Sansthānaka. [Recoiling in terror.] Sheared, are you? Go along, then.
Courtier. [Aside.] It would be folly to remain here. Well, I will go and join myself to Sharvilaka, Chandanaka, and the rest. [Exit.
