A scoundrel I, who bear the blame,
Nor think of earth, nor heaven blest;
That sweetest maid, in passion's flame—
But he will say the rest.38
Sansthānaka. Killed her! Come, you shay it too. "I killed her."
Chārudatta. You have said it.
Sansthānaka. Lishten, my mashters, lishten! He murdered her! No one but him! Doubt is over. Let punishment be inflicted on the body of thish poor Chārudatta.
P. 253.1]
Judge. Beadle, we must do as the king's brother-in-law says. Guardsmen, lay hold on this Chārudatta. [The guardsmen do so.]
Mother. Be merciful, good gentlemen, be merciful! [She repeats what she had said before, beginning "When the golden casket:" [page 143.]] If my daughter is killed, she is killed. Let him live for me—bless him! And besides, a lawsuit is a matter between plaintiff and defendant. I am the real plaintiff. So let him go free!
Sansthānaka. You shlave, get out of the way! What have you got to shay about him?
Judge. Go, madam. Guardsmen, conduct her forth.
Mother. Oh, my child, my son![Exit weeping.