Chandanaka. Lift the pole, man! [Vardhamānaka does so.]
Aryaka. [To himself.] Are the policemen about to inspect me? And I have no sword, worse luck! But at least,
Bold Bhīma's spirit I will show;
My arm shall be my sword.
Better a warrior's death than woe
That cells and chains afford. 17
But the time to use force has not yet come. [Chandanaka enters the cart and looks about.] I seek your protection.
Chandanaka. [Speaking in Sanskrit.] He who seeks protection shall be safe.
Aryaka. Whene'er he fight, that man will suffer hurts,
Will be abandoned of his friends and kin,
Becomes a mock forever, who deserts
One seeking aid; 'tis an unpardoned sin. 18
Chandanaka. What! the herdsman Aryaka? Like a bird that flees from a hawk, he has fallen into the hand of the fowler. [Reflecting.] He is no sinner, this man who seeks my protection and sits in Chārudatta's cart. Besides, he is the friend of good Sharvilaka, who saved my life. On the other hand, there are the king's orders. What is a man to do in a case like this? Well, what must be, must be. I promised him my protection just now.
He who gives aid to frightened men,
And joys his neighbor's ills to cure,
If he must die, he dies; but then,
His reputation is secure. 19
[He gets down uneasily.] I saw the gentleman—[correcting himself.] I mean, the lady Vasantasenā, and she says "Is it proper, is it gentlemanly, when I am going to visit Chārudatta, to insult me on the highway?"
Vīraka. Chandanaka, I have my suspicions.
Chandanaka. Suspicions? How so?
