d flamingos, male and mate together,
Like mighty pinnacles that tower on high.
In thousand forms the tumbling clouds embrace,
Though torn by winds, they gather, interlace,
And paint the ample canvas of the sky. 5

The sky is black as Dhritarashtra's face;
Proud as the champion of Kuru's race.
The haughty peacock shrills his joy abroad;
The cuckoo, in Yudhishthira's sad case,
Is forced to wander if he would not die;
The swans must leave their forest-homes and fly,
Like Pandu's sons, to seek an unknown place. 6

[_Reflecting._] It is long since Maitreya went to visit Vasantasena.
And even yet he does not come. [_Enter Maitreya._]

[76.20. S.

_Maitreya._ Confound the courtezan's avarice and her incivility! To
think of her making so short a story of it! Over and over she
repeats something about the affection she feels, and then without
more ado she pockets the necklace. She is rich enough so that
she might at least have said: "Good Maitreya, rest a little. You
must not go until you have had a cup to drink." Confound the
courtezan! I hope I 'll never set eyes on her again. [_Wearily._]
The proverb is right. "It is hard to find a lotus-plant without a
root, a merchant who never cheats, a goldsmith who never steals,
a village-gathering without a fight, and a courtezan without avarice."
Well, I 'll find my friend and persuade him to have nothing
more to do with this courtezan. [_He walks about until he discovers
Charudatta._] Ah, my good friend is sitting in the orchard. I 'll
go to him. [_Approaching._] Heaven bless you! May happiness be
yours.

_Charudatta._ [_Looking up._] Ah, my friend Maitreya has returned.
You are very welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.

_Maitreya._ Thank you.

_Charudatta._ Tell me of your errand, my friend.

_Maitreya._ My errand went all wrong.

P. 132.8]

_Charudatta._ What! did she not accept the necklace?

_Maitreya._ How could we expect such a piece of luck? She put
her lotus-tender hands to her brow,[62] and took it.

_Charudatta._ Then why do you say "went wrong"?

_Maitreya._ Why not, when we lost a necklace that was the pride
of the four seas for a cheap golden casket, that was stolen before
we had a bite or a drink out of it?

_Charudatta._ Not so, my friend.

She showed her trust in leaving us her treasure;
The price of confidence has no less measure.