Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/53

P. 31.3] mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!

Servant. Master, you've caught me, your servant.

Sansthānaka. Mashter here, shervant here! Mashter, shervant; shervant, mashter. Now shtay where you're put, both of you. [He renews the search and seizes Radanikā by the hair.] Mashter! mashter! Thish time I've caught her! I've caught Vasantasenā!

Through the black night she fled, fled she;

Her garland's shmell betrayed her;

Like Chānakya caught Draupadī,

I caught her hair and shtayed her.

Courtier. Ah, proud to be so young, so fair!

Too high thy love must not aspire;

For now thy blossom-fragrant hair,

That merits richest gems and rare,

Serves but to drag thee through the mire.

Sansth. I've got your head, girl, got it tight,

By the hair, the locks, and the curls, too.

Now shcream, shqueak, shqueal with all your might

Shiva! Ishvara! Shankara! Shambhu!"

Radanikā. [In terror.] Oh, sirs, what does this mean?

Courtier. You jackass! It's another voice.

Sansthānaka. Mashter, the wench has changed her voice, the way a cat changes her voice, when she wants shome cream of curdled milk.

Courtier. Changed her voice? Strange! Yet why so strange?

She trod the stage; she learned the arts;

She studied to deceive our hearts;

And now she practises her parts.

Maitreya. Look! In the gentle evening breeze the flame of the candle is fluttering like the heart of a goat that goes to the altar. [He approaches and discovers Radanikā.] Mistress Radanikā!