A mean and jealous creature, passion-blind,
Sets all his soul, some fatal means to find
To slay the man he envies; shall his lies
By evil nature prompted, win the prize?
No! he is unregarded by the wise.27
And more than this:
The creeper's beauty would I never blight,
Nor pluck its flowers; should I not be afraid
To seize her hair so lovely-long, and bright
As wings of bees, and slay a weeping maid?28
[149.15. S.
Sansthānaka. Hello, magishtrates! How can you inveshtigate the cashe with such partiality? Why, even now you let thish shcoundrel Chārudatta shtay on his sheat.
Judge. My good beadle, so be it [The beadle follows Sansthānaka's suggestion.]
Chārudatta. Consider, magistrates, consider what you are doing! [He leaves his seat, and sits on the floor.]
Sansthānaka. [Dancing about gleefully. Aside.] Fine! The shin that I did falls on another man's head. Sho I 'll sit where Chārudatta was. [He does so.] Look at me, Chārudatta, and confessh that you murdered her.
Chārudatta. Magistrates!
A mean and jealous creature, passion-blind,
Sets all his soul, some fatal means to find
To slay the man he envies; shall his lies,
By evil nature prompted, win the prize?
No! he is unregarded by the wise.(27)