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And is his lord indifferent?

Then why are not such creatures sent

To instant hell, whose sinful store

Grows great, who know not virtue more?

And again:

Ah, cruel, cruel is our fate,

And enters through the straitest gate;

Since he is slave, and you are lord,

Since he does not enjoy your hoard,

Since you do not obey his word.

Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The old jackal is afraid of a shin, and the "lifelong shlave" is afraid of the other world. Who am I afraid of, I, the king's brother-in-law, an arishtocrat, a man? [Aloud.] Well, shervant, you "lifelong shlave," you can go. Go to your room and resht and keep out of my way.

Sthāvaraka. Yes, master. [To Vasantasenā.] Madam, I have no further power.

Sansthānaka. [Girds up his loins.] Wait a minute, Vasantasenā, wait a minute. I want to murder you.

Courtier. You will kill her before my eyes? [He seizes him by the throat.]

Sansthānaka. [Falls to the ground.] Shir, you're murdering your mashter. [He loses consciousness, but recovers.]

I always fed him fat with meat,

And gave him butter too, to eat;

Now for the friend in need I search;

Why does he leave me in the lurch?

[After reflection.] Good! I have an idea. The old jackal gave her a hint by shaking his head at her. Sho I'll shend him away, and then I'll murder Vasantasenā. That's the idea. [Aloud.] Shir, I was born in a noble family as great as a wine-glass. How could I do that shin I shpoke about? I jusht shaid it to make her love me.