Girl.
Lady, do not have such a suspicion, but let us listen further.
Vidúshaka (to himself).
This sort of talk pleases him, so I will continue it. (Aloud.) Friend, how then was this weeping one addressed by you?
Jímútaváhana.
She was thus addressed: "This moonstone seat, moistened with the water of tears, seems as if oozing with dew from the rising of thy moonface."
Malayavatí (angrily).
O Chaturiká! what more than this need we hear? Come, then, we will go.
Girl (taking her by the hand).
Lady, say not so. It is you alone whom he saw in his dream. His glance, resting on another, would find no pleasure.
Malayavatí.
My heart is not convinced. So we will just wait until the end of this conversation.
Jímútaváhana.
I know what I will do. I will draw her on this stone seat, and amuse myself by looking on her picture. Go, then, and fetch me some pieces of red arsenic from the mountain side.
