You might as well ask me how my eye comes to water after you have poked your finger into it.
KING.
I don't understand you; speak more intelligibly.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Ah, my dear friend, is yonder upright reed transformed into a crooked plant by its own act, or by the force of the current?
KING.
The current of the river causes it, I suppose.
MÁ[T.]HAVYA.
Ay; just as you are the cause of my crippled limbs.