(The next day. Siddhartha and Channa are in the chariot. Channa has taken a new road.)
SIDDHARTHA: Beauty, beauty! Today I see and feel real beauty on earth. We have covered a long distance. We are passing through a series of beautiful spots. (All of a sudden Siddhartha sees some people carrying a man on their shoulders. Tears are running down their cheeks.) Channa, what is wrong with that fellow? Why should others have to carry him? And why are they crying?
CHANNA: Ah, that man is dead.
SIDDHARTHA: What do you mean?
CHANNA: There is no life in him, Prince. His play on earth is over. Everybody has to die one day. Everybody has to go away from this world. Everybody has to suffer from death.
SIDDHARTHA: Not me! I don’t want to die. My beloved wife also has to die? My darling Rahul also has to die? No, that can’t be. I shall not be able to bear such a loss.
CHANNA: Prince, whoever lives on earth has to die eventually. Nobody can live forever.
SIDDHARTHA: Channa, I can’t believe it. I don’t want to believe it. I must conquer death, not only for myself, but for everybody. Channa, please tell me if there is anything more powerful, more destructive than death.
CHANNA: No, Prince, there is nothing more powerful and destructive than death. Death conquers everybody. We are all slaves of death.
SIDDHARTHA: Not me!
CHANNA: We are all at the mercy of death.
SIDDHARTHA: Not me! Channa, now that I have seen an old man, a sick man and a dead man, I think that I have seen everything bad that the world can show me. But something within me tells me that there are still things that I have not seen as yet. I want to come out tomorrow again.
CHANNA: If you want to come out of the palace again, I shall be more than happy to drive you, O Prince.