Illiterate, you gloss the Sacred Law,
And still your tongue uninjured find?
The midday sun with steadfast eye you saw,
And are not straightway stricken blind?
You thrust your hand into the blazing fire,
And draw it forth, unscathed and sound?
Drag Chārudatta's virtue in the mire,
Nor sink beneath this yawning ground?21
How could the noble Chārudatta commit a crime?
Of all the riches of the mighty sea
Only the swelling waters now are left,
Because, without consideration, he—
For others' good—himself of all has reft.
And should this high-souled man, this store-house where
All gems of virtue gather and unite,
For lucre's sake, so foul a trespass dare
That in it even his foe could not delight?22
Mother. You scoundrel! When the golden casket that was left with him as a pledge was stolen by thieves at night, he gave in place of it a pearl necklace that was the pride of the four seas. And he should now, for a mere trifle—for her money!—do this sin? Oh, my child, come back to me, my daughter! [She weeps.]
[147.16. S.
Judge. Noble Chārudatta, did she go on foot, or in a bullock-cart?
Chārudatta. I did not see her when she went. Therefore I do not know whether she went on foot, or in a bullock-cart.
[Enter Vīraka, in anger.]
Vīraka.