Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/161

P. 212.11]

The kingly deity of wind and rain?

The offshpring of the Pāndu-princes' bane?

A prophet? or a vulture known afar?

A shtatesman? or a beetle? or a shtar?

But even if he was, he couldn't reshcue you.

As Sītā in the Bhārata

Was killed by good old Chānakya,

Sho I intend to throttle thee,

As did Jatāyu Draupadī.

[He raises his arm to strike her.]

Vasantasenā. Mother! where are you? Oh, Chārudatta! my heart's longing is unfulfilled, and now I die! I will scream for help. No! It would bring shame on Vasantasenā, should she scream for help. Heaven bless Chārudatta!

Sansthānaka. Does the wench shpeak that rashcal's name even yet? [He seizes her by the throat.] Remember him, wench, remember him!

Vasantasenā. Heaven bless Chārudatta!

Sansthānaka. Die, wench! [''He strangles her. Vasantasenā loses consciousness, and falls motionless''.]

Sansthānaka. [Gleefully.]

Thish bashketful of shin, thish wench,

Thish foul abode of impudence—

She came to love, she shtayed to blench,

For Death's embrace took every sense.

But why boasht I of valorous arms and shtout?

She shimply died because her breath gave out.

Like Sītā in the Bhārata, she lies.

Ah, mother mine! how prettily she dies.

She would not love me, though I loved the wench;

I shaw the empty garden, set the shnare,