[Sansthānaka repeats his words.]
Chārudatta. Men of my own city!
A scoundrel I, who bear the blame,
Nor seek in heaven to be blest;
A maid—or goddess—'t is the same—
But he will say the rest.(ix. 30)
Sansthānaka. Killed her!
Chārudatta. So be it.
Goha. It 's your turn to kill him, man.
Ahīnta. No, yours.
Goha. Well, let 's reckon it out. [He does so at great length.] Well, if it 's my turn to kill him, we will just let it wait a minute.
Ahīnta. Why?
Goha. Well, when my father was going to heaven, he said to me, "Son Goha, if it 's your turn to kill him, don't kill the sinner too quick."