The scene then changes to "the bedroom of
Bindu Madhab," whose wife is discovered reading
a letter from her husband, who tells her of
an accusation brought against his father by the
planters. He intimates that he believes in the
ultimate triumph of justice, because he is taught
so by the works that he has studied. "My
dear," he says, "I have not forgotten the Bengalee
translation of Shakespeare; it cannot be got
now in the shops; but one of my friends,
Bonkima by name, has given me one copy. When
I come home I will bring it with me. My dear,
what a great source of pleasure is the acquisition
of learning!" The liberality of Bonkima
appears to touch the heart of Saralota, but, like
a true woman, she is sufficiently self-possessed
for the duties of the toilette; for, upon the
entrance of Aduri (the waiting maid with the keen
sense of the onion of treachery), she suggests to
that damsel, "Let us now rub ourselves with
oil in the cook-room." The scene then closes
with "exit both" (in Bengalee Latin) for that
purpose.

The next scene is mystically described as
"A road, pointing three ways," the kind of
road, we suppose, that would be taken by the
celebrated oyster which required a similar
number of persons to swallow him whole. The
woman Podi Moyrani is found indulging in a
repentant soliloquy on account of the part she
has been taking in placing the fair Khetromani
in the power of the English Sahib. A cowherd
comes and taunts her with having gone into the
indigo business; but he is soon, driven off by
the lattial (club-man) of the factory, who makes
love to her. But still her conscience pursues
her, and makes her unpleasantly sensitive to
raillery—a talent which the Hindoos have
always greatly at their command. The lattial
gone, four native boys come dancing round her,
clapping their hands, and singing the following
chant, which is Shakespearean in its simple
force:

My dear Moyrani, where is your indigo?
My dear Moyrani, where is your indigo?
My dear Moyrani, where is your indigo?

Human nature can endure the shame no longer.
The guilty woman flies from the face of her
fellow-countrymen—behind the scenes.

The third act commences with a scene at the
factory between Mr. Wood and Gopi, his Dewan,
in which we gather that Nobin is ruined, his
land taken away from him, and that he has been
twice in court. The planter discourses about
his schemes in general, and of a native who
writes against him in the newspapers. Gopi
consoles him by saying, "Their papers can never
stand before yours—can by no means bear a
comparison; and, moreover, they are as the
earthen bottles for cooling water, compared with
the jars of Dacca. But to bring the newspapers
within your influence great expense has been
incurred." That takes place according to time;
as is said,

According to circumstances the friend becomes the
enemy:
The lame ass is sold at the price of the horse.

There are more direct allusions in the course of
the piece to the alleged corruption of some of
the local journals.

The next scene (the bedroom of Nobin Madhab)
is mainly occupied by a consultation among
the family as to the measures to be taken in
consequence of Khetromani having been carried
off. Reboti calls aloud for her daughter.
"Bring me Khetromani! bring me my puppet
of gold!" Nobin, after a great deal of talk,
prepares for action. "The indigo frog," he
declares, "can never sit on the white water-
lily-like constancy of a woman!" "The jewel,"
as one of the ladies says, with less grace,
perhaps, but more force, "must be taken from the
indigo-monkey," at any hazard.

In the scene which follows, the interest of the
piece is worked up to the highest pitch. Mr.
Rose is sitting in his chamber, and the woman
Podi Moyrani brings the fair Khetromani to him.
Khetromani remonstrates with Podi for the part
she has taken, but Podi says, "You must speak
to the Sahib; to speak to me, is like crying in
the wilderness." The planter makes some
unfeeling remarks; but he is interrupted by Nobin
and another ryot breaking into the room. They
rescue Khetromani, and treat the planter with
some roughness: Nobin, however, restraining
his friend with beautiful hypocrisy by saying,
"We ought not to be cruel because they are
so." Then there comes a change to the
"Hall in the house of Goluk." Sabitri, his wife,
is lamenting that her husband has been
summoned to the court. But with her bous
(daughters-in-law) she seeks the old consolation
of the toilette, and one of the stage directions
in the scene is, "Saralota rubs the oil on
her mother-in-law's body"—a precaution, by the
way, much practised in the East before bathing,
for the somewhat curious reason that it prevents
the water from touching the skin.

The next scene is laid in the magistrate's
court. Mr. Wood, the plaintiff, sits and talks
with the magistrate, who asks his advice upon
several points. Goluk is sentenced to pay two
hundred rupees, or find sureties to that amount,
binding him to plant indigo. In the course of
the trial the magistrate writes a note to Mrs.
Wood, the wife of the plaintiff, and despatches
it by one of the court messengers, sending a
message also to Mr. Wood's head butler, to say
that his master will not be home to dinner.
The magistrate and the plaintiff then leave the
court together.

We are next introduced to the dwelling of
Bindu Madhab, where Nobin Bindu and Sadhu
are discovered, talking of Goluk, their father, who
is now imprisoned by order of the magistrate,
"the slave of the indigo-planters;" they also
mention the "deadly sorrow" of Khetromani. All
adjourn to the jail, where, on the scene changing,
the dead body of Goluk is seen hanging by his
outer garment, twisted like a rope. He has died
by his own hand. Until the doctor arrives, the
policeman says he cannot cut the body down. As
for the magistrate, he was not to be there for four
days. "At Sachigunge, on Saturday, they have a