Servant. Then take your sword, master.
Sansthānaka. You can keep it.
Servant. Here it is, master. Take your sword, master.
Sansthānaka. [Taking it by the wrong end.]
My shword, red as a radish shkin,
Ne'er finds the time to molder;
Shee how it shleeps its sheath within!
I put it on my shoulder.
While curs and bitches yelp at me, I roam,
Like a hunted jackal, home.52
[Sansthānaka and the servant walk about, then exeunt.
Maitreya. Mistress Radanikā, you must not tell good Chārudatta of this outrage. I am sure you would only add to the poor man's sorrows.
Radanikā. Good Maitreya, you know Radanikā. Her lips are sealed.
Maitreya. So be it.
Chārudatta. [To Vasantasenā.] Radanikā, Rohasena likes the fresh air, but he will be cold in the evening chill. Pray bring him into the house, and cover him with this mantle. [He gives her the mantle.]