Beadle. Follow me, sir. Here is the court-room. Pray enter.
Chārudatta. [Enters and looks about.] How wonderfully splendid is the court-room. For it seems an ocean,
Whose waters are the king's advisers, deep
In thought; as waves and shells it seems to keep
The attorneys; and as sharks and crocodiles
It has its spies that stand in waiting files;
Its elephants and horses[83] represent
The cruel ocean-fish on murder bent;
As if with herons of the sea, it shines
With screaming pettifoggers' numerous lines;
While in the guise of serpents, scribes are creeping
Upon its statecraft-trodden shore: the court
The likeness of an ocean still is keeping,
To which all harmful-cruel beasts resort.14
Come! [As he enters, he strikes his head against the door. Reflectively.] Alas! This also?
My left eye throbs; a raven cries;
A serpent coils athwart my path.
My safety now with heaven lies.15
But I must enter. [He does so.]
P. 238.16]
Judge. This is Chārudatta.
A countenance like his, with clear-cut nose,
Whose great, wide-opened eye frank candor shows,
Is not the home of wantonness;
With elephants, with horses, and with kine,
The outer form is inner habit's sign;
With men no less.16