ld he come now? Surely
Tarokaja is hoaxing her. The servant protests that he is telling the
truth, and that his master really has entered the house. She, only
half persuaded, goes in, and finds that my lord is indeed there. She
welcomes him, and in the same breath upbraids him. Some other lady has
surely found favour in his eyes. What fair wind has wafted him back to
her? He replies that business alone has kept him from her; he hopes
that all is well with her. With her, indeed, all is well, and there is
no change; but she fears that his heart is changed. Surely, surely he
has found mountains upon mountains of joy elsewhere, even now,
perhaps, he is only calling on his way homeward from some haunt of
pleasure. What pleasure can there be away from her? answers he.
Indeed, his time has not been his own, else he would have come sooner.
Why, then, did he not send his servant to explain? Tarokaja here puts
in his oar, and protests that, between running on errands and dancing
attendance upon his lord, he has not had a moment to himself. "At any
rate," says the master, "I must ask for your congratulations; for my
suit, which was so important, has prospered." The lady expresses her
happiness, and the gentleman then bids his servant tell her the object
of their visit. Tarokaja objects to this; his lord had better tell his
own story. While the two are disputing as to who shall speak, the
lady's curiosity is aroused. "What terrible tale is this that neither
of you dare tell? Pray let one or other of you speak." At last the
master explains that he has come to take leave of her, as he must
forthwith return to his own province. The girl begins to weep, and the
gentleman following suit, the two shed tears in concert. She uses all
her art to cajole him, and secretly produces from her sleeve a cup of
water, with which she smears her eyes to imitate tears. He, deceived
by the trick, tries to console her, and swears that as soon as he
reaches his own country he will send a messenger to fetch her; but she
pretends to weep all the more, and goes on rubbing her face with
water. Tarokaja, in the meanwhile, detects the trick, and, calling his
master on one side, tells him what she is doing. The gentleman,
however, refuses to believe him, and scolds him right roundly for
telling lies. The lady calls my lord to her, and weeping more bitterly
than ever, tries to coax him to remain. Tarokaja slyly fills another
cup, with ink and water, and substitut