Scene 3

III

[Before the Pleasure Gardens. Enter AVANTI, KOSHALA, KANCHI, and
other KINGS]

AVANTI. Will the King of this place not receive us?

KANCHI. What manner of governing a country is this? The King is
having a festival in a forest, where even the meanest and
commonest people can have easy access!

KOSHALA. We ought to have had a separate place set apart and
ready for our reception.

KANCHI. If he has not prepared such a place yet, we shall compel
him to have one erected for us.

KOSHALA. All this makes one naturally suspect if these people
have really got any King at all--it looks as if an unfounded
rumour has led us astray.

AVANTI. It may be so with regard to the King, but the Queen
Sudarshana of this place isn't at all an unfounded rumour.

KOSHALA. It is only for her sake that I have cared to come at
all. I don't mind omitting to see one who never makes himself
visible, but it would be a stupid mistake if we were to go away
without a sight of one who is eminently worth a visit.

KANCHI. Let us make some definite plan, then.

AVANTI. A plan is an excellent thing, so long as you are not
yourself entangled in it.

KANCHI. Hang it, who are these vermin swarming this way? Here!
who are you?

[Enter GRANDFATHER and the boys]

GRANDFATHER. We are the Jolly Band of Have-Nothings.

AVANTI. The introduction was superfluous. But you will take
yourselves away a little further and leave us in peace.

GRANDFATHER. We never suffer from a want of space: we can afford
to give you as wide a berth as you like. What little suffices
for us is never the bone of contention between any rival
claimants. Is not that so, my little friends? [They sing.]

SONG.

We have nothing, indeed we have nothing at all!
We sing merrily fol de rol de rol!
Some build high walls of their houses
On the bog of the sands of gold.
We stand before them and sing
Fol de rol de rol.
Pickpockets hover about us
And honour us with covetous glances.
We shake our empty pockets and sing
Fol de rol de rol.
When death, the old hag, steals to our doors
We snap our fingers at her face,
And we sing in a chorus with gay flourishes
Fol de rol de rol.

KANCHI. Look over there, Koshala, who are those coming this way?
A pantomime? Somebody is out masquerading as a King.

KOSHALA. The King of this place may tolerate all this
tomfoolery, but we won't.

AVANTI. He is perhaps some rural chief.

[Enter GUARDS on foot]

KANCHI. What country does your King come from?

FIRST SOLDIER. He is the King of this country. He is going to
command the festivities. [They go out.]

KOSHALA. What!