Love not a woman; if you ever do, She mocks at you, and plays the gay deceiver: Yet if she loves you, you may love her too; But if she doesn't, leave her. 13 Too true it is that A courtezan will laugh and cry for gold; She trusts you not, but waits your trustful hour. If virtue and a name are yours, then hold! Avoid her as you would a graveyard flower. 14 And again: As fickle as the billows of the sea, Glowing no longer than the evening sky, A woman takes your gold, then leaves you free; You're worthless, like cosmetics, when you're dry. 15 Yes, women are indeed fickle. One man perhaps may hold her heart in trust, She lures another with coquettish eyes, Sports with another in unseemly lust, Another yet her body satisfies. 16 As some one has well said: On mountain-tops no lotuses are grown; The horse's yoke no ass will ever bear; Rice never springs from seeds of barley sown; A courtezan is not an honest fair. 17 Accursèd Chārudatta, you shall not live! [_He takes a few steps._] P. 107.11] _Madanikā._ [_Seizing the hem of his garment._] O you foolish man! Your anger is so ridiculous. _Sharvilaka._ Ridiculous? how so? _Madanikā._ Because these jewels belong to my mistress. _Sharvilaka._ And what then? _Madanikā._ And she left them with that gentleman. _Sharvilaka._ What for? _Madanikā._ [_Whispers._] That's why. _Sharvilaka._ [_Sheepishly._] Confound it! The sun was hot one summer day; I sought the shadow, there to stay: Poor fool! the kindly branch to pay, I stole its sheltering leaves away. 18 _Vasantasenā._ How sorry he seems. Surely, he did this thing in ignorance. _Sharvilaka._ What is to be done now, Madanikā? _Madanikā._ Your own wit should tell you that. _Sharvilaka._ No. For you must remember, Nature herself gives women wit; Men learn from books a little bit. 19 _Madanikā._ Sharvilaka, if you will take my advice, restore the jewels to that righteous man. _Sharvilaka._ But Madanikā, what if he should prosecute me? _Madanikā._ No cruel heat comes from the moon. _Vasantasenā._ Good, Madanikā, good! _Sharvilaka._ Madanikā, For what I did, I feel no grief nor fear: Why tell me of this good man's virtues high? Shame for my baseness touches me more near; What can this king do to such rogues as I? 20 Nevertheless, your suggestion is inconsistent with prudence. You must discover some other plan. [64.16. S. _Madanikā._ Yes, there is another plan. _Vasantasenā._ I wonder what it will be. _Madanikā._ Pretend to be a servant of that gentleman, and give the jewels to my mistress. _Sharvilaka._ And what then?