“ ‘O Maharajah, thy servants are but women, who must toil the day long; and the water-jars are heavy! If we bring no man into the world, we are unfortunate; but if we do, we must suckle him, and cook, and keep a house clean, and go to the well thrice daily notwithstanding. Lo, the young one robs us of our strength and increases our labor. We are women. Who are we to offer comfort to a king?’ ”
“Enter the saddhu,” read Maitraya. “He leans on a staff and salutes the king with quiet dignity—”
“The saddhu shall have a dog with him,” the Lama interrupted. “Samding,” (he glanced sidewise at the chela) “there is merit in the dog. Consider well what part the dog may play.”
The chela nodded. He and the Lama seemed to take it quite for granted that the dog and her master were obedient members of the troupe.
“Whoever heard of a dog in a play?” Maitraya grumbled. “Krishna! But the very gods will laugh at us! Read, Gupta Rao. What says the saddhu?”
“ ‘O King, thou art truly to be pitied more than all of these. Mine—the path I take—is the only way from misery to happiness. Alone of all these, I can give advice. Forswear the pomp and glory of a kingdom—’ ”
“Pomp—and one sepoy!” Maitraya exploded.
“Silence!” commanded the Lama, in a voice that astonished everybody. His face was as mild as ever. Ommony continued:
“ ‘—Discard the scepter. Let the reins of despotism fall, and follow me. I mortify the flesh. I eat no more than keeps the body servant to the soul. No house, no revenues are mine, no other goods than this chance-given staff to lean on and a ragged robe. None robs me; I have no wealth to steal. None troubles me, for who could gain by it? I sleep under the skies, or crawl into a cave and share it with the beasts; for they and I, even as thou and I, O King, are brothers.’ ”
“Now the king speaks,” said Maitraya. “Listen to this!—‘Brothers? Yes; but some one has to beat the ox. And who shall rule the kingdom, if the ass and the jackal and the pigeon and the kite are reckoned equals with the king? Answer me that, O Saddhu.’ ”