Chārudatta. Good news, indeed.
Maitreya. You son of a slave, what makes you so late?
Vardhamānaka. Don't get angry, good Maitreya. I remembered that I had forgotten the cushion, and I had to go back for it, and that is why I am late.
Chārudatta. Turn the cart around, Vardhamānaka. Maitreya, my friend, help Vasantasenā to get out.
Maitreya. Has she got fetters on her feet, so that she can't get out by herself? [He rises and lifts the curtain of the cart.] Why, this is n't mistress Vasantasenā—this is Mister Vasantasena.
Chārudatta. A truce to your jests, my friend. Love cannot wait. I will help her to get out myself. [He rises.]
Aryaka. [Discovers him.] Ah, the owner of the bullock-cart! He is attractive not only to the ears of men, but also to their eyes. Thank heaven! I am safe.
Chārudatta. [Enters the bullock-cart and discovers Aryaka.] Who then is this?
As trunk of elephant his arms are long,
His chest is full, his shoulders broad and strong,
His great eyes restless-red;[71]
Why should this man be thus enforced to fight—
So noble he—with such ignoble plight,
His foot to fetters wed?5
P. 180.14]