KING.

Why, what has paralysed your limbs?

MÁ[T.]HAVYA.

You might as well ask me how my eye comes to water after you have
poked your finger into it.

KING.

I don't understand you; speak more intelligibly.

MÁ[T.]HAVYA.

Ah, my dear friend, is yonder upright reed transformed into a
crooked plant by its own act, or by the force of the current?

KING.

The current of the river causes it, I suppose.

MÁ[T.]HAVYA.

Ay; just as you are the cause of my crippled limbs.

KING.

How so?