Courtier. Pitch dark it is indeed.
The sudden darkness seems to steal
The keenness of my sight;
My open eyes, as with a seal,
Are closed by blackest night.33
And again:
Darkness anoints my body, and the sky
Drops ointment of thick darkness, till mine eye
Is all unprofitable grown to me,
Like service done to them who cheat and lie.34
Sansthānaka. Mashter, I'm looking for Vasantasenā.
Courtier. Is there anything you can trace her by, jackass?
Sansthānaka. Like what, for inshtance?
P. 28.3]
Courtier. Like the tinkling of her jewels, for instance, or the fragrance of her garlands.