FIRST CITIZEN.
The impudence of this fellow knows no bounds! Not content with spreading a ghastly rumour with an unabashed face, he offers to measure his lies with insolence!
SECOND CITIZEN.
Why not make him measure his length on the ground?
GRANDFATHER.
Why so much heat, my friends? The poor fellow is going to have his own festive day by singing the ugliness of his King. Go along, Virupaksha, you will find plenty of people ready to believe you: may you be happy in their company.[Exeunt.]
[Re-enter the party of FOREIGNERS]
BHAVADATTA.
It strikes me, Kaundilya, that these people haven’t got a King at all. They have somehow managed to keep the rumour afloat.
KAUNDILYA.
You are right, I think. We all know that the supreme thing that strikes one’s eye in any country is the King, who of course loses no opportunity of exhibiting himself.
JANARDAN.
But look at the nice order and regularity prevailing all over the place—how do you explain it without a King?
BHAVADATTA.
So this is the wisdom you have arrived at by living so long under a ruler! Where would be the necessity of having a King if order and harmony existed already?
JANARDAN.
All these people have assembled to rejoice at this festival. Do you think they could come together like this in a country of anarchy?
Rhavadatta.
My dear Janardan, you are evading the real issue, as usual. There can be no question about the order and regularity, and the festive rejoicing too is plain enough: there is no difficulty so far. But where is the King? Have you seen him? Just tell us that.