Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/192

156 Whom fortune favors, find

That all the world is kind;

Whose happy days are ended,

Are rarely thus befriended.

Chārudatta. [Looks about him.]

Their faces with their garments' hem now hiding,

They stand afar, whom once I counted friends:

Even foes have smiles for men with Fortune biding;

But friends prove faithless when good fortune ends.

Headsmen. They are out of the way. The street is cleared. Lead on the condemned criminal.

Chārudatta. [Sighing.]

My friend Maitreya! Oh, this cruel blow!

My wife, thou issue of a spotless strain!

My Rohasena! Here am I, laid low

By sternest fate; and thou, thou dost not know

That all thy childish games are played in vain.

Thou playest, heedless of another's pain!

Voices behind the scenes. My father! Oh, my friend!

Chārudatta. [''Listens. Mournfully''.] You are a leader in your own caste. I would beg a favor at your hands.

Headsmen. From our hands you would receive a favor?

Chārudatta. Heaven forbid! Yet a headsman is neither so wanton nor so cruel as King Pālaka. That I may be happy in the other world, I ask to see the face of my son.

Headsmen. So be it.

A voice behind the scenes. My father! oh, my father! [Chārudatta hears the words, and mournfully repeats his request.]

Headsmen. Citizens, make way a moment. Let the noble Chārudatta look upon the face of his son. [Turning to the back of the stage.] This way, sir! Come on, little boy!