Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] O thou blessèd quartan ague! Look thou upon a Brahman, even upon me, with this thy favor!
Maid. Rascal! May death strike you.
Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] Why, wench, a pot-belly like that is better dead.
Drinking brandy, rum, and wine,
Mother fell extremely ill.
If mother now should peak and pine,
A jackal-pack would have its fill.30
Well, I have seen Vasantasenā's palace with its many incidents and its eight courts, and really, it seems as if I had seen the triple heaven in a nut-shell. I haven't the eloquence to praise it. Is this the house of a courtezan, or a piece of Kubera's[57] palace? Where's your mistress?
Maid. She is here in the orchard. Enter, sir.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! What a beautiful orchard! There are any number of trees planted here, and they are covered with the most wonderful flowers. Silken swings are hung under the thick-set trees, just big enough for a girl to sit in. The golden jasmine, the shephālikā, the white jasmine, the jessamine, the navamallikā, the amaranth, the spring creeper, and all the other flowers have fallen of themselves, and really, it makes Indra's heaven look dingy. [He looks in another direction.] And the pond here looks like the morning twilight, for the lilies and red lotuses are as splendid as the rising sun. And again:
The ashoka-tree, whose twigs so merry
And crimson flowers have just appeared,
Seems like a battling mercenary,
With clotting crimson gore besmeared.31
Good! Now where's your mistress?
P. 126.7]
Maid. If you would stop star-gazing, sir, you would see her.