Clown.  Good!  You hit a man in the eye, and then ask him why the tears come.

King.  I do not understand you.  Speak plainly.

Clown.  When a reed bends over like a hunchback, do you blame the reed or the river-current?

King.  The river-current, of course.

Clown.  And you are to blame for my troubles.

King.  How so?

Clown.  It’s a fine thing for you to neglect your royal duties and such a sure job—­to live in the woods!  What’s the good of talking?  Here I am, a Brahman, and my joints are all shaken up by this eternal running after wild animals, so that I can’t move.  Please be good to me.  Let us have a rest for just one day.

King (to himself).  He says this.  And I too, when I remember Kanva’s daughter, have little desire for the chase.  For

  The bow is strung, its arrow near;
    And yet I cannot bend
  That bow against the fawns who share
    Soft glances with their friend.

Clown (observing the king).  He means more than he says.  I might as well weep in the woods.

King (smiling).  What more could I mean?  I have been thinking that I ought to take my friend’s advice.

Clown (cheerfully).  Long life to you, then. (He unstiffens.)

King.  Wait.  Hear me out.

Clown.  Well, sir?

King.  When you are rested, you must be my companion in another task—­an easy one.

Clown.  Crushing a few sweetmeats?

King.  I will tell you presently.

Clown.  Pray command my leisure.

King.  Who stands without? (Enter the door-keeper.)

Door-keeper.  I await your Majesty’s commands.

King.  Raivataka, summon the general.

Door-keeper.  Yes, your Majesty. (He goes out, then returns with the general.) Follow me, sir.  There is his Majesty, listening to our conversation.  Draw near, sir.

General (observing the king, to himself).  Hunting is declared to be a sin, yet it brings nothing but good to the king.  See!

  He does not heed the cruel sting
  Of his recoiling, twanging string;
  The mid-day sun, the dripping sweat
  Affect him not, nor make him fret;
  His form, though sinewy and spare,
  Is most symmetrically fair;
  No mountain-elephant could be
  More filled with vital strength than he.

(He approaches.) Victory to your Majesty!  The forest is full of deer-tracks, and beasts of prey cannot be far off.  What better occupation could we have?

King.  Bhadrasena, my enthusiasm is broken.  Madhavya has been preaching against hunting.

General (aside to the clown).  Stick to it, friend Madhavya.  I will humour the king a moment. (Aloud.) Your Majesty, he is a chattering idiot.  Your Majesty may judge by his own case whether hunting is an evil.  Consider: