_Maitreya._ [_Turns his feet around._] Senā-vasanta. _Kumbhīlaka._ You fool! Turn the parts of the word around! _Maitreya._ [_After reflection._] Vasanta-senā. _Kumbhīlaka._ She's here. _Maitreya._ Then I must tell Chārudatta. [_Approaching._] Well, Chārudatta, your creditor is here. _Chārudatta._ How should a creditor come into my family? _Maitreya._ Not in the family perhaps, but at the door. Vasantasenā is here. _Chārudatta._ Why do you deceive me, my friend? _Maitreya._ If you can't trust me, then ask Kumbhīlaka here. Kumbhīlaka, you jackass, come here. P. 140.4] _Kumbhīlaka._ [_Approaching._] I salute you, sir. _Chārudatta._ You are welcome, my good fellow. Tell me, is Vasantasenā really here? _Kumbhīlaka._ Yes, she's here. Vasantasenā is here. _Chārudatta._ [_Joyfully._] My good fellow, I have never let the bearer of welcome news go unrewarded. Take this as your recompense. [_He gives him his mantle._] _Kumbhīlaka._ [_Takes it and bows. Gleefully._] I'll tell my mistress. [_Exit._ _Maitreya._ Do you see why she comes in a storm like this? _Chārudatta._ I do not quite understand, my friend. _Maitreya._ I know. She has an idea that the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket expensive. She isn't satisfied, and she has come to look for something more. _Chārudatta._ [_Aside._] She shall not depart unsatisfied. * * * * * [_Then enter the love-lorn Vasantasenā, in a splendid garment, fit for a woman who goes to meet her lover, a maid with an umbrella, and the courtier._] _Courtier._ [_Referring to Vasantasenā._] Lakshmī[63] without the lotus-flower is she, Loveliest arrow of god Kāma's bow,[64] The sweetest blossom on love's magic tree. See how she moves, so gracefully and slow! In passion's hour she still loves modesty; In her, good wives their dearest sorrow know. When passion's drama shall enacted be. When on love's stage appears the passing show, A host of wanderers shall bend them low. Glad to be slaves in such captivity. 12 [82.94. S. See, Vasantasenā, see! The clouds hang drooping to the mountain peaks, Like a maiden's heart, that distant lover seeks: The peacocks startle, when the thunder booms, And fan the heaven with all their jeweled plumes. 13 And again: Mud-stained, and pelted by the streaming rain, To drink the falling drops the frogs are fain; Full-throated peacocks love's shrill passion show, And nīpa flowers like brilliant candles glow; Unfaithful clouds obscure the hostage moon, Like knaves, unworthy of so dear a boon; Like some poor maid of better breeding bare, The impatient lightning rests not anywhere. 14 _Vasantasenā._[65] Sir, what you say is most true. For