Cham. I will know in an instant.
Dushm. Is there any alarm, Párvatáyana?
Cham. Alarm enough!
Dushm. What causes thy tremour?—Thus do men tremble through age: fear shakes the old man's body, as the breeze agitates the leaves of the Pippala.
Cham. Oh! deliver thy friend.
Dushm. Deliver him! from what?
Cham. From distress and danger.
Dushm. Speak more plainly.
Cham. The wall which looks to all quarters of the heavens, and is named, from the clouds which cover it, Méghach' handa—
Dushm. What of that?
Cham. From the summit of that wall, the pinnacle of which is hardly attainable even by the blue-necked pigeons, an evil being, invisible to human eyes, has violently carried away the friend of your childhood.
Dushm. [Starting up hastily.] What! are even my secret apartments infested by supernatural agents?—Royalty is ever subjected to molestation.—A king knows not even the mischiefs which his own negligence daily and hourly occasions:—how then should he know what path his people are treading; and how should he correct their manners when his own are uncorrected?
Behind the seenes. Oh, help! oh, release me.
Dushm. [Listening and advancing.] Fear not, my friend, fear nothing.—
