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His long tongue quivers; four white fangs appear;

His belly swells and coils. He slumbered here,

This prince of serpents, till I crossed his path,

And now he darts upon me in his wrath.

And more than this:

I slip, although the ground has felt no rain;

My left eye, and my left arm throb again;

Another bird is screaming overhead;

All bodes a cruel death, and hope is fled.

Surely, the gods will grant that all may yet be well.

Beadle. Follow me, sir. Here is the court-room. Pray enter.

Chārudatta. [Enters and looks about.] How wonderfully splendid is the court-room. For it seems an ocean,

Whose waters are the king's advisers, deep

In thought; as waves and shells it seems to keep

The attorneys; and as sharks and crocodiles

It has its spies that stand in waiting files;

Its elephants and horses represent

The cruel ocean-fish on murder bent;

As if with herons of the sea, it shines

With screaming pettifoggers' numerous lines;

While in the guise of serpents, scribes are creeping

Upon its statecraft-trodden shore: the court

The likeness of an ocean still is keeping,

To which all harmful-cruel beasts resort.

Come! [''As he enters, he strikes his head against the door. Reflectively''.] Alas! This also?

My left eye throbs; a raven cries;

A serpent coils athwart my path.

My safety now with heaven lies.

But I must enter. [He does so.]