Amal. Say, Headman, why do you speak to me in that tone of voice? Are you cross?
Headman. Upon my word! Cross, indeed! You write to the King! Madhav is devilish swell nowadays. He'd made a little pile; and so kings and padishahs are everyday talk with his people. Let me find him once and I'll make him dance. Oh, you snipper-snapper! I'll get the King's letter sent to your house—indeed I will!
Amal. No, no, please don't trouble yourself about it.
Headman. And why not, pray! I'll tell the King about you and he won't be very
long. One of his footmen will come along presently for news of you. Madhav's impudence staggers me. If the King hears of this, that'll take some of his nonsense out of him. [Exit]
Amal. Who are you walking there? How your anklets tinkle! Do stop a while, dear, won't you?
[A Girl enters]
Girl. I haven't a moment to spare; it is already late!
Amal. I see, you don't wish to stop; I don't care to stay on here either.
Girl. You make me think of some late star of the morning! Whatever's the matter with you?