Page:Little Clay Cart (Ryder 1905).djvu/69

P. 61.5] You do not mind defeat at all;

Great are the sums you spend and win;

While kingly revenues roll in,

Rich men, like slaves, before you fall

And again:

You earn your coin by gambling,

Your friends and wife by gambling,

Your gifts and food by gambling;

Your last cent goes by gambling.

And again:

My cash was taken by the trey;

The deuce then took my health away;

The ace then set me on the street;

The four completed my defeat.

[He looks before him.] Here comes Māthura, our sometime gambling-master. Well, as I can't escape, I think I'll put on my veil. [He makes any number of gestures with his cloak, then examines it.]

This cloth is sadly indigent in thread;

This lovely cloth lets in a lot of light;

This cloth's protective power is nearly fled;

This cloth is pretty when it's rolled up tight.

Yet after all, what more could a poor saint do? For you see,

One foot I've planted in the sky,

The other on the ground must lie.

The elevation's rather high,

But the sun stands it. Why can't I?

Māthura. Pay, pay!

Shampooer. How can I pay? [Māthura drags him about.]

Darduraka. Well, well, what is this I see? [He addresses a bystander.] What did you say, sir? "This shampooer is being maltreated by the gambling-master, and no one will save him"? I'll save him myself. [He presses forward.] Stand back, stand back!