He saw the sometime greatness of my home
And forced an entrance; for his heart did leap
With short-lived hope; now he must elsewhere roam,
And over broken hopes must sorely weep.23
Just think of the poor fellow telling his friends: "I entered the house of a merchant's son, and found—nothing."
P. 92.4]
Maitreya. Do you mean to say that you pity the rascally robber? Thinks he—"Here's a great house. Here's the place to carry off a jewel-casket or a gold-casket." [He remembers the casket. Despondently. Aside.] Where is that golden casket? [He remembers the events of the night. Aloud.] Look, man! You are always saying "Maitreya is a fool, Maitreya is no scholar." But I certainly acted wisely in handing over that golden casket to you. If I hadn't, the son of a slave would have carried it off.
Chārudatta. A truce to your jests!
Maitreya. Just because I'm a fool, do you suppose I don't even know the place and time for a jest?
Chārudatta. But when did this happen?
Maitreya. Why, when I told you that your fingers were cold.
Chārudatta. It might have been. [He searches about. Joyfully.] My friend, I have something pleasant to tell you.