of my dear Lord, I have spent nearly a fourth part of the day. The fickleness of the exterior part has now gone into the heart. As, on the boiling of the rice, the froth rising up makes the surface quiet, but the rice within is agitated; so am I now. I have not that smiling face now. A sweet smile is the wife of happiness; and so soon as happiness dies, the sweet smile goes along with it. My Lord, when thou shalt prove successful, every thing shall be preserved; if I am to see your face disquieted, all sides will be dark unto me. O my restless mind, wilt thou be not quieted? If you remain unquiet, that can be suffered. As to your weeping, none can see it, nor can hear it; but my eyes! you shall throw me into shame, (rubbing her eyes); if ye are not pacified, I shall not be able to go out of doors.
Enter Aduri.
Aduri. What are you doing here? The elder Haldarni[1] is not able to go to the tank-side. All whom I see are of a disturbed countenance.
Saralota. (A deep sigh.) Let us then go.
Aduri. I see you have not yet touched the oil. Your hairs are yet dusty, and you have not yet left the letter. Does our young Haldar write my name in the letter?
Saralota. Has the Bara Takur (the eldest brother of the husband) finished his bathing?
Aduri. The eldest Haldar is gone to the village. A law-suit is being carried on. Was that not written in your letter? Our master was weeping.
Saralota. (Aside.) Truly, my Lord! Thou shalt not be able to show thy face, if thou can'st not prove successful. (Openly) Let us now rub ourselves with oil in the cook-room.
(Exit both.)
- ↑ Referring to Soirindri, the wife of Nobin Madhab.
