Charudatta to the place of execution. Charudatta takes his last leave of
his son and his friend Maitreya. But Sansthanaka's servant escapes from
confinement and betrays the truth; yet he is not believed, owing to the
cunning displayed by his master. The headsmen are preparing to execute
Charudatta, when Vasantasena herself appears upon the scene, accompanied
by the Buddhist monk. Her appearance puts a summary end to the
proceedings. Then news is brought that Aryaka has killed and supplanted
the former king, that he wishes to reward Charudatta, and that he has by
royal edict freed Vasantasena from the necessity of living as a
courtezan. Sansthanaka is brought before Charudatta for sentence, but is
pardoned by the man whom he had so grievously injured. The play ends
with the usual Epilogue.
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 2: For an illuminating discussion of these matters, the reader
is referred to Sylvain Lévi's admirable work, Le Théâtre Indien, Paris,
1890, pages 196-211.]
[Footnote 3: In his Malatimadhava, i. 8, he says: "Whoever they may be
who now proclaim their contempt for me,--they know something, but this
work was not for them. Yet there will arise a man of nature like mine
own; for time is endless, and the world is wide." This seems prophetic
of John Milton.]
[Footnote 4: Prasannaraghava, i. 22.]
[Footnote 5: Mahaviracarita, i. 4.]
[Footnote 6: History of Chinese Literature, by H. A. Giles, pages 145-146.]
[Footnote 7: Shakuntala, i. 15.]
[Footnote 8: Latter Acts of Rama, v. 17.]
[Footnote 9: _Prakarana._]
[Footnote 10: Dhurtasamkula: Daçarupa, iii. 38.]
[Footnote 11: _Sahityadarpana_, 428.]
[Footnote 12: As in Malati-madhava.]
[Footnote 13: Daçarupa, iii. 33.]
[Footnote 14: In Kalidasa's Shakuntala.]
[Footnote 15: In Bhavabhuti's Latter Acts of Rama.]
[Footnote 16: See page 128.]
[Footnote 17: Aryaka, Darduraka, Chandanaka, Sharvilaka, and the courtier.]
[Footnote 18: See x. 27.]
[Footnote 19: See v. 46 and the following stage-direction.]
[Footnote 20: In Kalidasa's play of that name.]
[Footnote 21: In Bhavabhuti's Latter Acts of Rama.]
[Footnote 22: See viii. 43.]
[Footnote 23: See pages 65-66 and page 174.]
[Footnote 24: See viii. 38 and compare the words, "Yet love bids me
prattle," on page 86.]
[Footnote 25: Page 87.]
[Footnote 26: Stanzas of the latter sort in The Little Clay Cart are
vii. 2 and viii. 5.]
[Footnote 27: This statement requires a slight limitation; compare, for
example, the footnote to page 82.]
[Footnote 28: But the combination _th_ should be pronounced as in
_ant-hill_, not as in _thin_ or _this_; similarly _dh_ as in
_mad-house_; _bh_ as in _abhor._]
[Footnote 29: Except in the names Aryaka and Ahinta, where typographical
considerations have led to the omission of the macron over the initial
letter; and except also in head-lines.]
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
CHARUDATTA, _a Brahman merchant_
ROHASENA, _his son_
MAITREYA, _his friend_
VARDHAMANAKA, _a servant in his house_
SANSTHANAKA, _brother-in-law of King_ PALAKA
STHAVARAKA, _his servant_
_Another Servant of_ SANSTHANAKA
_A Courtier_
ARYAKA, _a herdsman who becomes king_
SHARVILAKA, _a Brahman, in love with_ MADANIKA
_A Shampooer, who becomes a Buddhist monk_
MATHURA, _a gambling-master_
DARDURAKA, _a gambler_
_Another Gambler_
KARNAPURAKA }
KUMBHILAKA } _servants of_ VASANTASENA
VIRAKA }
CHANDANAKA } _policemen_
GOHA }
AHINTA } _headsmen_
_Bastard pages, in_ VASANTASENA'S _house_
_A Judge_, _a Gild-warden_, _a Clerk_, _and a Beadle_
VASANTASENA, _a courtezan_
_Her Mother_
MADANIKA, _maid to_ VASANTASENA
_Another Maid to_ VASANTASENA
_The Wife of_ CHARUDATTA
RADANIKA, _a maid in_ CHARUDATTA'S _house_
SCENE
UJJAYINI (_called also_ AVANTI) _and its Environs_
THE LITTLE CLAY CART
PROLOGUE
_Benediction upon the audience_
His bended knees the knotted girdle holds,
Fashioned by doubling of a serpent's folds;
His sensive organs, so he checks his breath,
Are numbed, till consciousness seems sunk in death;
Within himself, with eye of truth, he sees
The All-soul, free from all activities.
May His, may Shiva's meditation be
Your strong defense; on the Great Self thinks he,
Knowing full well the world's vacuity. 1
And again:
May Shiva's neck shield you from every harm,
That seems a threatening thunder-cloud, whereon,
Bright as the lightning-flash, lies Gauri's arm. 2
_Stage-director._ Enough of this tedious work, which fritters away
the interest of the audience! Let me then most reverently salute
the honorable gentlemen, and announce our intention to produce
a drama called "The Little Clay Cart." Its author was a man
Who vied with elephants in lordly grace;
Whose eyes were those of the chakora bird
That feeds on moonbeams; glorious his face
As the full moon; his person, all have heard,
Was altogether lovely. First in worth
Among the twice-born was this poet, known
As Shudraka far over all the earth,
His virtue's depth unfathomed and alone. 3
[1.14. S.
And again:
The Samaveda, the Rigveda too,
The science mathematical, he knew;
The arts wherein fair courtezans excel,
And all the lore of elephants as well.
Through Shiva's grace, his eye was never dim;
He saw his son a king in place of him.
The difficult horse-sacrifice he tried
Successfully; entered the fiery tide,
One hundred years and ten days old, and died. 4
And yet again:
Eager for battle; sloth's determined foe;
Of scholars chief, who to the Veda cling;
Rich in the riches that ascetics know;
Glad, gainst the foeman's elephant to show
His valor;--such was Shudraka, the king. 5
And in this work of his,
Within the town, Avanti named,
Dwells one called Charudatta, famed
No less for youth than poverty;
A merchant's son and Brahman, he.
His virtues have the power to move
Vasantasena's inmost love;
Fair as the springtime's radiancy,
And yet a courtezan is she. 6
So here king Shudraka the tale imparts
Of love's pure festival in these two hearts,
Of prudent acts, a lawsuit's wrong and hate,
A rascal's nature, and the course of fate. 7
[_He walks about and looks around him._] Why, this music-room of
ours is empty. I wonder where the actors have gone. [_Reflecting._]
Ah, I understand.
P. 4.7]
Empty his house, to whom no child was born;
Thrice empty his, who lacks true friends and sure;
To fools, the world is empty and forlorn;
But all that is, is empty to the poor. 8
I have finished the concert. And I've been practising so long that
the pupils of my eyes are dancing, and I'm so hungry that my eyes
are crackling like a lotus-seed, dried up by the fiercest rays of the
summer sun. I'll just call my wife and ask whether there is anything
for breakfast or not.
Hello! here I am--but no! Both the particular occasion and the
general custom demand that I speak Prakrit. [_Speaking in Prakrit._]
Confound it! I've been practising so long and I'm so hungry that
my limbs are as weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Suppose I go home
and see whether my good wife has got anything ready or not. [_He
walks about and looks around him._] Here I am at home. I'll just go
in. [_He enters and looks about._] Merciful heavens! Why in the world
is everything in our house turned upside down? A long stream of
rice-water is flowing down the street. The ground, spotted black
where the iron kettle has been rubbed clean, is as lovely as a girl
with the beauty-marks of black cosmetic on her face. It smells so
good that my hunger seems to blaze up and hurts me more than
ever. Has some hidden treasure come to light? or am I hungry
enough to think the whole world is made of rice? There surely isn't
any breakfast in our house, and I'm starved to death. But everything
seems topsyturvy here. One girl is preparing cosmetics, another
is weaving garlands of flowers. [_Reflecting._] What does it all
mean? Well, I'll call my good wife and learn the truth. [_He looks
toward the dressing-room._] Mistress, will you come here a moment?
[_Enter an actress._]
_Actress._ Here I am, sir.
_Director._ You are very welcome, mistress.
_Actress._ Command me, sir. What am I to do?
[3.8. S.
_Director._ Mistress, I've been practising so long and I'm so hungry
that my limbs are as weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Is there anything
to eat in the house or not?
_Actress._ There's everything, sir.
_Director._ Well, what?
_Actress._ For instance--there's rice with sugar, melted butter, curdled
milk, rice; and, all together, it makes you a dish fit for
heaven. May the gods always be thus gracious to you!
_Director._ All that in our house? or are you joking?
_Actress._ [_Aside._] Yes, I will have my joke. [_Aloud._] It's in the
market-place, sir.
_Director._ [_Angrily._] You wretched woman, thus shall your own
hope be cut off! And death shall find you out! For my expectations,
like a scaffolding, have been raised so high, only to fall again.
_Actress._ Forgive me, sir, forgive me! It was only a joke.
_Director._ But what do these unusual preparations mean? One girl
is preparing cosmetics, another is weaving garlands, and the very
ground is adorned with sacrificial flowers of five different colors.
_Actress._ This is a fast day, sir.
_Director._ What fast?
_Actress._ The fast for a handsome husband.
_Director._ In this world, mistress, or the next?
_Actress._ In the next world, sir.
_Director._ [_Wrathfully._] Gentlemen! look at this. She is sacrificing
my food to get herself a husband in the next world.
_Actress._ Don't be angry, sir. I am fasting in the hope that you
may be my husband in my next birth, too.
_Director._ But who suggested this fast to you?
_Actress._ Your own dear friend Jurnavriddha.
_Director._ [_Angrily._] Ah, Jurnavriddha, son of a slave-wench!
When, oh, when shall I see King Palaka angry with you? Then
you will be parted, as surely as the scented hair of some young
bride.
P. 8.10]
_Actress._ Don't be angry, sir. It is only that I may have you in the
next world that I celebrate this fast. [_She falls at his feet._]
_Director._ Stand up, mistress, and tell me who is to officiate at this
fast.
_Actress._ Some Brahman of our own sort whom we must invite.
_Director._ You may go then. And I will invite some Brahman of
our own sort.
_Actress._ Very well, sir. [_Exit._
_Director._ [_Walking about._] Good heavens! In this rich city of
Ujjayini how am I to find a Brahman of our own sort? [_He looks
about him._] Ah, here comes Charudatta's friend Maitreya. Good!
I'll ask him. Maitreya, you must be the first to break bread in
our house to-day.
_A voice behind the scenes._ You must invite some other Brahman.
I am busy.
_Director._ But, man, the feast is set and you have it all to yourself.
Besides, you shall have a present.
_The voice._ I said no once. Why should you keep on urging me?
_Director._ He says no. Well, I must invite some other Brahman.
[_Exit._
END OF THE PROLOGUE
ACT THE FIRST
THE GEMS ARE LEFT BEHIND
[_Enter, with a cloak in his hand, Maitreya._]
_Maitreya._
"You must invite some other Brahman. I am busy." And yet I really ought
to be seeking invitations from a stranger. Oh, what a wretched state of
affairs! When good Charudatta was still wealthy, I used to eat my fill
of the most deliciously fragrant sweetmeats, prepared day and night with
the greatest of care. I would sit at the door of the courtyard, where I
was surrounded by hundreds of dishes, and there, like a painter with his
paint-boxes, I would simply touch them with my fingers and thrust them
aside. I would stand chewing my cud like a bull in the city market. And
now he is so poor that I have to run here, there, and everywhere, and
come home, like the pigeons, only to roost. Now here is this
jasmine-scented cloak, which Charudatta's good friend Jurnavriddha has
sent him. He bade me give it to Charudatta, as soon as he had finished
his devotions. So now I will look for Charudatta. [_He walks about and
looks around him._] Charudatta has finished his devotions, and here he
comes with an offering for the divinities of the house.
[_Enter Charudatta as described, and Radanika._]
_Charudatta._ [_Looking up and sighing wearily._]
Upon my threshold, where the offering
Was straightway seized by swans and flocking cranes,
The grass grows now, and these poor seeds I fling
Fall where the mouth of worms their sweetness stains. 9
[_He walks about very slowly and seats himself._]
_Maitreya_. Charudatta is here. I must go and speak to him.
[_Approaching._] My greetings to you. May happiness be yours.
P. 13.1]
_Charudatta._ Ah, it is my constant friend Maitreya. You are very
welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.
_Maitreya._ Thank you. [_He seats himself._] Well, comrade, here is a
jasmine-scented cloak which your good friend Jurnavriddha has
sent. He bade me give it you as soon as you had finished your devotions.
[_He presents the cloak. Charudatta takes it and remains
sunk in thought._] Well, what are you thinking about?
_Charudatta._ My good friend,
A candle shining through the deepest dark
Is happiness that follows sorrow's strife;
But after bliss when man bears sorrow's mark,
His body lives a very death-in-life. 10
_Maitreya._ Well, which would you rather, be dead or be poor?
_Charudatta._ Ah, my friend,
Far better death than sorrows sure and slow;
Some passing suffering from death may flow,
But poverty brings never-ending woe. 11
_Maitreya._ My dear friend, be not thus cast down. Your wealth has
been conveyed to them you love, and like the moon, after she has
yielded her nectar to the gods, your waning fortunes win an added
charm.
_Charudatta._ Comrade, I do not grieve for my ruined fortunes. But
This is my sorrow. They whom I
Would greet as guests, now pass me by.
"This is a poor man's house," they cry.
As flitting bees, the season o'er,
Desert the elephant, whose store
Of ichor[30] spent, attracts no more. 12
_Maitreya._ Oh, confound the money! It is a trifle not worth thinking
about. It is like a cattle-boy in the woods afraid of wasps; it
doesn't stay anywhere where it is used for food.
[8.5. S.
_Charud._ Believe me, friend. My sorrow does not spring
From simple loss of gold;
For fortune is a fickle, changing thing,
Whose favors do not hold;
But he whose sometime wealth has taken wing,
Finds bosom-friends grow cold. 13
Then too:
A poor man is a man ashamed; from shame
Springs want of dignity and worthy fame;
Such want gives rise to insults hard to bear;
Thence comes despondency; and thence, despair;
Despair breeds folly; death is folly's fruit--
Ah! the lack of money is all evils root! 14
_Maitreya._ But just remember what a trifle money is, after all, and
be more cheerful.
_Charudatta._ My friend, the poverty of a man is to him
A home of cares, a shame that haunts the mind,
Another form of warfare with mankind;
The abhorrence of his friends, a source of hate
From strangers, and from each once-loving mate;
But if his wife despise him, then 't were meet
In some lone wood to seek a safe retreat.
The flame of sorrow, torturing his soul,
Burns fiercely, yet contrives to leave him whole. 15
Comrade, I have made my offering to the divinities of the house.
Do you too go and offer sacrifice to the Divine Mothers at a place
where four roads meet.
_Maitreya._ No!
_Charudatta._ Why not?
_Maitreya._ Because the gods are not gracious to you even when
thus honored. So what is the use of worshiping?
P. 16.8]
_Charudatta._ Not so, my friend, not so! This is the constant duty
of a householder.
The gods feel ever glad content
In the gifts, and the self-chastisement,
The meditations, and the prayers,
Of those who banish worldly cares. 16
Why then do you hesitate? Go and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
_Maitreya._ No, I'm not going. You must send somebody else. Anyway,
everything seems to go wrong with me, poor Brahman that
I am! It's like a reflection in a mirror; the right side becomes the
left, and the left becomes the right. Besides, at this hour of the
evening, people are abroad upon the king's highway--courtezans,
courtiers, servants, and royal favorites. They will take me now for
fair prey, just as the black-snake out frog-hunting snaps up the
mouse in his path. But what will you do sitting here?
_Charudatta._ Good then, remain; and I will finish my devotions.
* * * * *
_Voices behind the scenes._ Stop, Vasantasena, stop!
[_Enter Vasantasena, pursued by the courtier, by Sansthanaka, and the
servant._]
_Courtier._ Vasantasena! Stop, stop!
Ah, why should fear transform your tenderness?
Why should the dainty feet feel such distress,
That twinkle in the dance so prettily?
Why should your eyes, thus startled into fear,
Dart sidelong looks? Why, like the timid deer
Before pursuing hunters, should you flee? 17
_Sansthanaka._ Shtop,[31] Vasantasena, shtop!
Why flee? and run? and shtumble in your turning?
Be kind! You shall not die. Oh, shtop your feet!
With love, shweet girl, my tortured heart is burning.
As on a heap of coals a piece of meat. 18
[10.2 S.
_Servant._ Stop, courtezan, stop!
In fear you flee
Away from me,
As a summer peahen should;
But my lord and master
Struts fast and faster,
Like a woodcock in the wood. 19
_Courtier._ Vasantasena! Stop, stop!
Why should you tremble, should you flee,
A-quiver like the plantain tree?
Your garment's border, red and fair,
Is all a-shiver in the air;
Now and again, a lotus-bud
Falls to the ground, as red as blood.
A red realgar[32] vein you seem,
Whence, smitten, drops of crimson stream. 20
_Sansthanaka._ Shtop. Vasantasena, shtop!
You wake my passion, my desire, my love;
You drive away my shleep in bed at night;
Both fear and terror sheem your heart to move;
You trip and shtumble in your headlong flight.
But Ravana forced Kunti[33] to his will;
Jusht sho shall I enjoy you to the fill. 21
_Courtier._ Ah, Vasantasena,
Why should your fleeter flight
Outstrip my flying feet?
Why, like a snake in fright
Before the bird-king's might,
Thus seek to flee, my sweet?
Could I not catch the storm-wind in his flight?
Yet would not seize upon you, though I might. 22
P. 19.9]
_Sansthanaka_. Lishten to me, shir!
Thish whip of robber Love, thish dancing-girl,
Eater of fish, deshtroyer of her kin,
Thish shnubnose, shtubborn, love-box, courtezan,
Thish clothes-line, wanton creature, maid of sin--
I gave her ten shweet names, and shtill
She will not bend her to my will. 23
_Courtier_.
As courtier's fingers strike the lute's tense string,
The dancing ear-ring smites your wounded cheek.
Why should you flee, with dreadful terror weak,
As flees the crane when heaven's thunders ring? 24
_Sansth_.
Your jingling gems, girl, clink like anything;
Like Draupadi you flee, when Rama kisshed her.
I'll sheize you quick, as once the monkey-king
Sheized Subhadra, Vishvavasu's shweet shishter. 25
_Servant_.
He's the royal protégé;
Do whatever he may say.
And you shall have good fish and flesh to eat.
For when dogs have all the fish
And the flesh that they can wish,
Even carrion seems to them no longer sweet. 26
_Courtier_. Mistress Vasantasena,
The girdle drooping low upon your hips
Flashes as brilliant as the shining stars;
The wondrous terror of your fleeing mars
Your charms; for red realgar, loosened, slips
As on an imaged god, from cheek and lips. 27
_Sansth_.
We're chasing you with all our main and might,
As dogs a jackal when they hunt and find it;
But you are quick and nimble in your flight,
And shteal my heart with all the roots that bind it. 28
[11.23. S.
_Vasantasena._ Pallavaka! Parabhritika!
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! a man! a man!
_Courtier._ Don't be a coward.
_Vasantasena._ Madhavika! Madhavika!
_Courtier._ [_Laughing._] Fool! She is calling her servants.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! Is she calling a woman?
_Courtier._ Why, of course.
_Sansthanaka._ Women! I kill hundreds of 'em. I'm a brave man.
_Vasantasena._ [_Seeing that no one answers._] Alas, how comes it that
my very servants have fallen away from me? I shall have to defend
myself by mother-wit.
_Courtier._ Don't stop the search.
_Sansthanaka._ Shqueal, Vasantasena, shqueal for your cuckoo
Parabhritika, or for your blosshom Pallavaka or for all the month of
May! Who's going to save you when I'm chasing you?
Why shpeak of Bhimasena? Or the shon
Of Jamadagni, that thrice-mighty one?
The ten-necked ogre? Shon of Kunti fair?
Jusht look at me! My fingers in your hair,
Jusht like Duhshasana, I'll tear, and tear. 29
Look, look!
My shword is sharp; good-by, poor head!
Let's chop it off, or kill you dead.
Then do not try my wrath to shun;
When you musht die, your life is done. 30
_Vasantasena._ Sir, I am a weak woman.
_Courtier._ That is why you are still alive.
_Sansthanaka._ That is why you're not murdered.
_Vasantasena._ [_Aside._] Oh! his very courtesy frightens me. Come,
I will try this. [_Aloud._] Sir, what do you expect from this pursuit?
my jewels?
P. 24.7]
_Courtier._ Heaven forbid! A garden creeper, mistress Vasantasena,
should not be robbed of its blossoms. Say no more about the jewels.
_Vasantasena._ What is then your desire?
_Sansthanaka._ I'm a man, a big man, a regular Vasudeva.[34] You
musht love me.
_Vasantasena._ [_Indignantly._] Heavens! You weary me. Come, leave
me! Your words are an insult.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Laughing and clapping his hands._] Look, mashter,
look! The courtezan's daughter is mighty affectionate with me,
isn't she? Here she says "Come on! Heavens, you're weary. You're
tired!" No, I haven't been walking to another village or another
city. No, little mishtress, I shwear by the gentleman's head, I
shwear by my own feet! It's only by chasing about at your heels
that I've grown tired and weary.
_Courtier._ [_Aside._] What! is it possible that the idiot does not
understand when she says "You weary me"? [_Aloud._] Vasantasena,
your words have no place in the dwelling of a courtezan,
Which, as you know, is friend to every youth;
Remember, you are common as the flower
That grows beside the road; in bitter truth,
Your body has its price; your beauty's dower
Is his, who pays the market's current rate:
Then serve the man you love, and him you hate. 31
And again:
The wisest Brahman and the meanest fool
Bathe in the selfsame pool;
Beneath the peacock, flowering plants bend low,
No less beneath the crow;
The Brahman, warrior, merchant, sail along
With all the vulgar throng.
You are the pool, the flowering plant, the boat;
And on your beauty every man may dote. 32
[13.22 S.
_Vasantasena._ Yet true love would be won by virtue, not violence.
_Sansthanaka._ But, mashter, ever since the shlave-wench went into
the park where Kama's[35] temple shtands, she has been in love with
a poor man, with Charudatta, and she doesn't love me any more.
His house is to the left. Look out and don't let her shlip out of our
hands.
_Courtier._ [_Aside._] Poor fool, he has said the very thing he should
have concealed. So Vasantasena is in love with Charudatta? The
proverb is right. Pearl suits with pearl. Well, I have had enough
of this fool. [_Aloud._] Did you say the good merchant's house was
to the left, you jackass?
_Sansthanaka._ Yes. His house is to the left.
_Vasantasena._ [_Aside._] Oh, wonderful! If his house is really at my
left hand, then the scoundrel has helped me in the very act of hurting
me, for he has guided me to my love.
_Sansthanaka._ But mashter, it's pitch dark and it's like hunting
for a grain of soot in a pile of shpotted beans. Now you shee Vasantasena
and now you don't.
_Courtier._ Pitch dark it is indeed.
The sudden darkness seems to steal
The keenness of my sight;
My open eyes, as with a seal,
Are closed by blackest night. 33
And again:
Darkness anoints my body, and the sky
Drops ointment of thick darkness, till mine eye
Is all unprofitable grown to me,
Like service done to them who cheat and lie. 34
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, I'm looking for Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ Is there anything you can trace her by, jackass?
_Sansthanaka._ Like what, for inshtance?
P. 28.3]
_Courtier._ Like the tinkling of her jewels, for instance, or the fragrance
of her garlands.
_Sansthanaka._ I hear the shmell of her garlands, but my nose is
shtuffed so full of darkness that I don't shee the shound of her
jewels very clearly.
_Courtier._ [_To Vasantasena. Aside._] Vasantasena,
'T is true, the night is dark, O timid maid,
And like the lightning hidden in the cloud,
You are not seen; yet you will be betrayed
By fragrant garlands and by anklets loud. 35
Have you heard me, Vasantasena?
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] Heard and understood. [_She removes
the ankle-rings, lays aside the garlands, and takes a few steps, feeling
her way._] I can feel the wall of the house, and here is a side-entrance.
But alas! my fingers tell me that the door is shut.
* * * * *
_Charudatta_ [_who is within the house_]. Comrade, my prayer is done.
Go now and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
_Maitreya._ No, I'm not going.
_Charudatta._ Alas!
The poor man's kinsmen do not heed his will;
The friends who loved him once, now stand afar;
His sorrows multiply; his strength is nil;
Behold! his character's bright-shining star
Fades like the waning moon; and deeds of ill
That others do, are counted to him still. 36
And again:
No man holds converse with him; none will greet
With due respect the poor man when they meet.
Where rich men hold a feast, if he draw near,
He meets with scornful looks for looks of cheer.
[15.19. S.
Where vulgar throngs are gathered, 't is the same;
His scanty raiment wakes his heartfelt shame.
Five are the deadly sins[36] we knew before;
Alas! I find the sixth is--to be poor. 37
And yet again:
Ah, Poverty, I pity thee, that so
To me thou clingest, as thy dearest friend;
When my poor life has met its woeful end,
I sadly wonder, whither thou wilt go. 38
_Maitreya._ [_Betraying his embarrassment._] Well, comrade, if I must
go, at least let Radanika go with me, to keep me company.
_Charudatta._ Radanika, you are to accompany Maitreya.
_Radanika._ Yes, sir.
_Maitreya_. Mistress Radanika, do you take the offering and the
candle while I open the side-door. [_He does so._]
_Vasantasena._ It seems as if the door took pity on me and opened
of itself. I will lose no time, but enter. [_She looks in._] What? a
candle? Oh dear, oh dear! [_She puts it out with her skirt and enters._]
_Charudatta._ What was that, Maitreya?
_Maitreya._ I opened the side-door and the wind came through all
in a lump and blew out the candle. Suppose you go out by the
side-door, Radanika, and I will follow as soon as I have gone into
the courtyard and lighted the candle again. [_Exit._
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! mashter! I'm looking for Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ Keep on looking, keep on looking!
_Sansthanaka._ [_Does so._] Mashter! mashter! I've caught her! I've
caught her!
_Courtier._ Idiot, you've caught me.
_Sansthanaka._ You shtand right here, mashter, and shtay where
you're put. [_He renews the search and seizes the servant._] Mashter!
mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!
P. 31.3]
_Servant._ Master, you've caught me, your servant.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter here, shervant here! Mashter, shervant;
shervant, mashter. Now shtay where you're put, both of you. [_He
renews the search and seizes Radanika by the hair._] Mashter! mashter!
Thish time I've caught her! I've caught Vasantasena!
Through the black night she fled, fled she;
Her garland's shmell betrayed her;
Like Chanakya caught Draupadi,
I caught her hair and shtayed her. 39
_Courtier._
Ah, proud to be so young, so fair!
Too high thy love must not aspire;
For now thy blossom-fragrant hair,
That merits richest gems and rare,
Serves but to drag thee through the mire. 40
_Sansth._
I've got your head, girl, got it tight,
By the hair, the locks, and the curls, too.
Now shcream, shqueak, shqueal with all your might
"Shiva! Ishvara! Shankara! Shambhu!"[37] 41
_Radanika._ [_In terror._] Oh, sirs, what does this mean?
_Courtier._ You jackass! It's another voice.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, the wench has changed her voice, the way a
cat changes her voice, when she wants shome cream of curdled milk.
_Courtier._ Changed her voice? Strange! Yet why so strange?
She trod the stage; she learned the arts;
She studied to deceive our hearts;
And now she practises her parts. 42
[_Enter Maitreya._]
_Maitreya._ Look! In the gentle evening breeze the flame of the
candle is fluttering like the heart of a goat that goes to the altar.
[_He approaches and discovers Radanika._] Mistress Radanika!
[17.17. S.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, mashter! A man! a man!
_Maitreya._ This is right, this is perfectly right, that strangers should
force their way into the house, just because Charudatta is poor.
_Radanika._ Oh, Maitreya, see how they insult me.
_Maitreya._ What! insult you? No, they are insulting us.
_Radanika._ Very well. They are insulting you, then.
_Maitreya._ But they aren't using violence?
_Radanika._ Yes, yes!
_Maitreya._ Really?
_Radanika._ Really.
_Maitreya._ [_Raising his staff angrily._] No, sir! Man, a dog will show
his teeth in his own kennel, and I am a Brahman! My staff is crooked
as my fortunes, but it can still split a dry bamboo or a rascal's pate.
_Courtier._ Have mercy, O great Brahman, have mercy.
_Maitreya._ [_Discovers the courtier._] He is not the sinner. [_Discovers
Sansthanaka._] Ah, here is the sinner. Well, you brother-in-law to
the king, Sansthanaka, you scoundrel, you coward, this is perfectly
proper, isn't it? Charudatta the good is a poor man now--true,
but are not his virtues an ornament to Ujjayini? And so men break
into his house and insult his servants!
Insult not him, laid low by poverty;
For none are counted poor by mighty fate:
Yet he who falls from virtue's high estate,
Though he be rich, no man is poor as he. 43
_Courtier._ [_Betraying his embarrassment._] Have mercy, O great
Brahman, have mercy. We intended no insolence; we merely mistook this
lady for another. For
We sought an amorous maiden,
_Maitreya._ What! this one?
_Courtier._ Heaven forbid!
one whose youth
Is in the guidance of her own sweet will;
She disappeared: unconscious of the truth,
We did what seems a purposed deed of ill. 44
P. 35.4]
I pray you, accept this all-in-all of humblest supplication. [_He drops
his sword, folds his hands, and falls at Maitreya's feet._]
_Maitreya._ Good man, rise, rise. When I reviled you, I did not know
you. Now I know you and I ask your pardon.
_Courtier._ It is I who should ask pardon. I will rise on one condition.
_Maitreya._ And that is--
_Courtier._ That you will not tell Charudatta what has happened here.
_Maitreya._ I will be silent.
_Courtier._
Brahman, this gracious act of thine
I bow my neck to bear;
For never could this sword of mine
With virtue's steel compare. 45
_Sansthanaka._ [_Indignantly._] But mashter, what makes you fold
your hands sho helplesshly and fall at the feet of thish manikin?
_Courtier._ I was afraid.
_Sansthanaka._ What were _you_ afraid of?
_Courtier._ Of Charudatta's virtues.
_Sansthanaka._ Virtues? He? You can go into his houshe and not
find a thing to eat.
_Courtier._ No, no.
His loving-kindness unto such as we
Has brought him low at last;
From him could no man learn what insults be,
Or e'er his wealth was past.
This well-filled pool, that in its summer day
Gave others drink, itself is dried away. 46
_Sansthanaka._ [_Impatiently._] Who is the shon of a shlave-wench
anyway?
Brave Shvetaketu is he, Pandu's child?
Or Radha's shon, the ten-necked ogre wild?
Or Indradatta? or again, is he
Shon of brave Rama and of fair Kunti?
Or Dharmaputra? Ashvatthaman bold?
Perhaps Jatayu's shelf, that vulture old? 47
[19.19. S.
_Courtier._ Fool! I will tell you who Charudatta is.
A tree of life to them whose sorrows grow,
Beneath its fruit of virtue bending low;
Father to good men; virtue's touchstone he;
The mirror of the learned; and the sea
Where all the tides of character unite;
A righteous man, whom pride could never blight;
A treasure-house, with human virtues stored;
Courtesy's essence, honor's precious hoard.
He doth to life its fullest meaning give,
So good is he; we others breathe, not live. 48
Let us be gone.
_Sansthanaka._ Without Vasantasena?
_Courtier._ Vasantasena has disappeared.
_Sansthanaka._ How?
_Courtier._
Like sick men's strength, or like the blind man's sight,
Like the fool's judgment, like the sluggard's might,
Like thoughtless scoundrels' store of wisdom's light,
Like love, when foemen fan our slumbering wrath,
So did _she_ vanish, when you crossed her path. 49
_Sansthanaka._ I'm not going without Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ And did you never hear this?
To hold a horse, you need a rein;
To hold an elephant, a chain;
To hold a woman, use a heart;
And if you haven't one, depart. 50
_Sansthanaka._ If you're going, go along. I'm not going.
_Courtier._ Very well. I will go. [_Exit._
P. 38.2]
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter's gone, sure enough. [_To Maitreya._] Well,
you man with the head that looks like a caret, you manikin, take a
sheat, take a sheat.
_Maitreya._ We have already been invited to take a seat.
_Sansthanaka._ By whom?
_Maitreya._ By destiny.
_Sansthanaka._ Shtand up, then, shtand up!
_Maitreya._ We shall.
_Sansthanaka._ When?
_Maitreya._ When fate is kind again.
_Sansthanaka._ Weep, then, weep!
_Maitreya._ We have wept.
_Sansthanaka._ Who made you?
_Maitreya._ Poverty.
_Sansthanaka._ Laugh, then, laugh!
_Maitreya._ Laugh we shall.
_Sansthanaka._ When?
_Maitreya._ When Charudatta is happy once more.
_Sansthanaka._ You manikin, give poor little Charudatta thish messhage
from me. "Thish wench with golden ornaments and golden jewels, thish
female shtage-manager looking after the rehearsal of a new play, thish
Vasantasena--she has been in love with you ever shince she went into the
park where Kama's temple shtands. And when we tried to conciliate her by
force, she went into your houshe. Now if you shend her away yourshelf
and hand her over to me, if you reshtore her at once, without any
lawshuit in court, then I'll be friends with you forever. But if you
don't reshtore her, there will be a fight to the death." Remember:
Shmear a pumpkin-shtalk with cow-dung;
Keep your vegetables dried;
Cook your rice in winter evenings;
And be sure your meat is fried.
Then let 'em shtand, and they will not
Bothershomely shmell and rot. 51
[21.17. S.
Tell it to him prettily, tell it to him craftily. Tell it to him sho that
I can hear it as I roosht in the dove-cote on the top of my own
palace. If you shay it different, I'll chew your head like an apple
caught in the crack of a door.
_Maitreya._ Very well. I shall tell him.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Aside._] Tell me, shervant. Is mashter really gone?
_Servant._ Yes, sir.
_Sansthanaka._ Then we will go as quickly as we can.
_Servant._ Then take your sword, master.
_Sansthanaka._ You can keep it.
_Servant._ Here it is, master. Take your sword, master.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Taking it by the wrong end._]
My shword, red as a radish shkin,
Ne'er finds the time to molder;
Shee how it shleeps its sheath within!
I put it on my shoulder.
While curs and bitches yelp at me, I roam,
Like a hunted jackal, home. 52
[_Sansthanaka and the servant walk about, then exeunt._
_Maitreya._ Mistress Radanika, you must not tell good Charudatta
of this outrage. I am sure you would only add to the poor man's
sorrows.
_Radanika._ Good Maitreya, you know Radanika. Her lips are sealed.
_Maitreya._ So be it.
* * * * *
_Charudatta._ [_To Vasantasena._] Radanika, Rohasena likes the fresh
air, but he will be cold in the evening chill. Pray bring him into the
house, and cover him with this mantle. [_He gives her the mantle._]
P. 49.19]
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] See! He thinks I am his servant. [_She
takes the mantle and perceives its perfume. Ardently to herself._] Oh,
beautiful! The mantle is fragrant with jasmine. His youthful days
are not wholly indifferent to the pleasures of the world. [_She wraps
it about her, without letting Charudatta see._]
_Charudatta._ Come, Radanika, take Rohasena and enter the heart
of the house.
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] Ah me unhappy, that have little part
or lot in your heart!
_Charudatta._ Come, Radanika, will you not even answer? Alas!
When man once sees that miserable day,
When fate almighty sweeps his wealth away,
Then ancient friendships will no longer hold,
Then all his former bosom-friends grow cold. 53
_Maitreya._ [_Drawing near to Radanika._] Sir, here is Radanika.
_Charudatta._ Here is Radanika? Who then is this--
This unknown lady, by my robe
Thus clinging, desecrated,
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] Say rather "consecrated."
_Charudatta._ Until she seems the crescent moon.
With clouds of autumn[38] mated? 54
But no! I may not gaze upon another's wife.
_Maitreya._ Oh, you need not fear that you are looking at another
man's wife. This is Vasantasena, who has been in love with you
ever since she saw you in the garden where Kama's temple stands.
_Charudatta._ What! this is Vasantasena? [_Aside._]
My love for whom--my fortune spent--
My wretched self in twain has rent.
Like coward's anger, inward bent. 55
[23. 19. S.
_Maitreya._ My friend, that brother-in-law of the king says--
_Charudatta._ Well?
_Maitreya._ "This wench with golden ornaments and golden jewels,
this female stage-manager looking after the rehearsal of a new
play, this Vasantasena--she has been in love with you ever since
she went into the park where Kama's temple stands. And when we
tried to conciliate her by force, she went into your house."
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] "Tried to conciliate me by force"--truly,
I am honored by these words.
_Maitreya._ "Now if you send her away yourself and hand her over
to me, if you restore her at once, without any lawsuit in court,
then I'll be friends with you forever. Otherwise, there will be a
fight to the death."
_Charudatta._ [_Contemptuously._] He is a fool. [_To himself._] How is
this maiden worthy of the worship that we pay a goddess! For now
Although I bade her enter, yet she seeks
To spare my poverty, nor enters here;
Though men are known to her, yet all she speaks
Contains no word to wound a modest ear. 56
[_Aloud._] Mistress Vasantasena, I have unwittingly made myself
guilty of an offense; for I greeted as a servant one whom I did not
recognize. I bend my neck to ask your pardon.
_Vasantasena._ It is I who have offended by this unseemly intrusion.
I bow my head to seek your forgiveness.
_Maitreya._ Yes, with your pretty bows you two have knocked your
heads together, till they look like a couple of rice-fields. I also bow
my head like a camel colt's knee and beseech you both to stand
up. [_He does so, then rises._]
_Charudatta._ Very well, let us no longer trouble ourselves with
conventions.
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] What a delightfully clever hint! But
it would hardly be proper to spend the night, considering how I
came hither. Well, I will at least say this much. [_Aloud._] If I am
to receive thus much of your favor, sir, I should be glad to leave
these jewels in your house. It was for the sake of the jewels that
those scoundrels pursued me.
P. 45.14]
_Charudatta._ This house is not worthy of the trust.
_Vasantasena._ You mistake, sir! It is to men that treasures are
entrusted, not to houses.
_Charudatta._ Maitreya, will you receive the jewels?
_Vasantasena._ I am much indebted to you. [_She hands him the
jewels._]
_Maitreya._ [_Receiving them._] Heaven bless you, madam.
_Charudatta._ Fool! They are only entrusted to us.
_Maitreya._ [_Aside._] Then the thieves may take them, for all I care.
_Charudatta._ In a very short time--
_Maitreya._ What she has entrusted to us, belongs to us.
_Charudatta._ I shall restore them.
_Vasantasena._ I should be grateful, sir, if this gentleman would
accompany me home.
_Charudatta._ Maitreya, pray accompany our guest.
_Maitreya._ She walks as gracefully as a female swan, and you are
the gay flamingo to accompany her. But I am only a poor Brahman,
and wherever I go, the people will fall upon me just as dogs will
snap at a victim dragged to the cross-roads.
_Charudatta._ Very well. I will accompany her myself. Let the
torches be lighted, to ensure our safety on the highway.
_Maitreya._ Vardhamanaka, light the torches.
_Vardhamanaka._ [_Aside to Maitreya._] What! light torches without
oil?
_Maitreya._ [_Aside to Charudatta._] These torches of ours are like
courtezans who despise their poor lovers. They won't light up unless
you feed them.
[25.23. S.
_Charudatta._ Enough, Maitreya! We need no torches. See, we have
a lamp upon the king's highway.
Attended by her starry servants all,
And pale to see as a loving maiden's cheeks,
Rises before our eyes the moon's bright ball,
Whose pure beams on the high-piled darkness fall
Like streaming milk that dried-up marshes seeks. 57
[_His voice betraying his passion._] Mistress Vasantasena, we have
reached your home. Pray enter. [_Vasantasena gazes ardently at him,
then exit._] Comrade, Vasantasena is gone. Come, let us go home.
All creatures from the highway take their flight;
The watchmen pace their rounds before our sight;
To forestall treachery, is just and right,
For many sins find shelter in the night. 58
[_He walks about._] And you shall guard this golden casket by night,
and Vardhamanaka by day.
_Maitreya._ Very well. [_Exeunt ambo._
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 30: During the mating season, a fragrant liquor exudes from
the forehead of the elephant. Of this liquor bees are very fond.]
[Footnote 31: The most striking peculiarity of Sansthanaka's
dialect--his substitution of _sh_ for _s_--I have tried to imitate in
the translation.]
[Footnote 32: Red arsenic, used as a cosmetic.]
[Footnote 33: Here, as elsewhere, Sansthanaka's mythology is wildly
confused. To a Hindu the effect must be ludicrous enough; but the humor
is necessarily lost in a translation. It therefore seems hardly worth
while to explain his mythological vagaries in detail.]
[Footnote 34: A name of Krishna, who is perhaps the most amorous
character in Indian story.]
[Footnote 35: Cupid.]
[Footnote 36: The five deadly sins are: the slaying of a Brahman, the
drinking of wine, theft, adultery with the wife of one's teacher, and
association with one guilty of these crimes.]
[Footnote 37: These are all epithets of the same god.]
[Footnote 38: Which look pretty, but do not rain. He doubtless means to
suggest that the cloak, belonging to a strange man, is as useless to
Vasantasena as the veil of autumn clouds to the earth.]
ACT THE SECOND
THE SHAMPOOER[39] WHO GAMBLED
[_Enter a maid._]
_Maid._
I am sent with a message to my mistress by her mother. I must
go in and find my mistress. [_She walks about and looks around
her._] There is my mistress. She is painting a picture, and putting
her whole heart into it. I must go and speak to her.
[_Then appear the love-lorn Vasantasena, seated, and Madanika._]
_Vasantasena._ Well, girl, and then--
_Madanika._ But mistress, you were not speaking of anything. What
do you mean?
_Vasantasena._ Why, what did I say?
_Madanika._ You said, "and then"--
_Vasantasena._ [_Puckering her brows._] Oh, yes. So I did.
_Maid._ [_Approaching._] Mistress, your mother sends word that you
should bathe and then offer worship to the gods.
_Vasantasena._ You may tell my mother that I shall not take the
ceremonial bath to-day. A Brahman must offer worship in my place.
_Maid._ Yes, mistress. [_Exit._
_Madanika._ My dear mistress, it is love, not naughtiness, that asks
the question--but what does this mean?
_Vasantasena._ Tell me, Madanika. How do I seem to you?
_Madanika._ My mistress is so absent-minded that I know her heart
is filled with longing for somebody.
_Vasantasena._ Well guessed. My Madanika is quick to fathom
another's heart.
_Madanika._ I am very, very glad. Yes, Kama is indeed mighty, and
his great festival is welcome when one is young. But tell me, mistress,
is it a king, or a king's favorite, whom you worship?
[28.1. S.
_Vasantasena._ Girl, I wish to love, not to worship.
_Madanika._ Is it a Brahman that excites your passion, some youth
distinguished for very particular learning?
_Vasantasena._ A Brahman I should have to reverence.
_Madanika._ Or is it some young merchant, grown enormously
wealthy from visiting many cities?
_Vasantasena._ A merchant, girl, must go to other countries and
leave you behind, no matter how much you love him. And the
separation makes you very sad.
_Madanika._ It isn't a king, nor a favorite, nor a Brahman, nor a
merchant. Who is it then that the princess loves?
_Vasantasena._ Girl! Girl! You went with me to the park where
Kama's temple stands?
_Madanika._ Yes, mistress.
_Vasantasena._ And yet you ask, as if you were a perfect stranger.
_Madanika._ Now I know. Is it the man who comforted you when
you asked to be protected?
_Vasantasena._ Well, what was his name?
_Madanika._ Why, he lives in the merchants' quarter.
_Vasantasena._ But I asked you for his name.
_Madanika._ His name, mistress, is a good omen in itself. His name
is Charudatta.
_Vasantasena._ [_Joyfully._] Good, Madanika, good. You have guessed
it.
_Madanika._ [_Aside._] So much for that. [_Aloud._] Mistress, they say
he is poor.
_Vasantasena._ That is the very reason why I love him. For a courtezan
who sets her heart on a poor man is blameless in the eyes of
the world.
P. 59.14]
_Madanika._ But mistress, do the butterflies visit the mango-tree
when its blossoms have fallen?
_Vasantasena._ That is just why we call _that_ sort of a girl a butterfly.
_Madanika._ Well, mistress, if you love him, why don't you go and
visit him at once?
_Vasantasena._ Girl, if I should visit him at once, then, because he
can't make any return--no, I don't mean that, but it would be
hard to see him.
_Madanika._ Is that the reason why you left your jewels with him?
_Vasantasena._ You have guessed it.
* * * * *
_A voice[40] behind the scenes_. Oh, sir, a shampooer owes me ten
gold-pieces, and he got away from us. Hold him, hold him! [_To the
fleeing shampooer._] Stop, stop! I see you from here. [_Enter hurriedly
a frightened shampooer._]
_Shampooer._ Oh, confound this gambling business!
Freed from its tether, the ace--
I might better say "ass"--how it kicks me!
And the cast of the dice called the "spear"
Proves true to its name; for it sticks me. 1
The keeper's whole attention
Was busy with the score;
So it took no great invention
To vanish through the door.
But I cannot stand forever
In the unprotected street.
Is there no one to deliver?
I would fall before his feet. 2
While the keeper and the gambler are looking somewhere else
for me, I'll just walk backwards into this empty temple and turn
goddess. [_He makes all sorts of gestures, takes his place, and waits._]
[_Enter Mathura and the gambler._]
[30.1. S.
_Mathura._ Oh, sir, a shampooer owes me ten gold-pieces, and he got
away from us. Hold him, hold him! Stop, stop! I see you from
here.
_Gambler._
You may run to hell, if they'll take you in;
With Indra, the god, you may stay:
For there's never a god can save your skin.
While Mathura wants his pay. 3
_Mathura._
Oh, whither flee you, nimble rambler.
You that cheat an honest gambler?
You that shake with fear and shiver.
All a-tremble, all a-quiver;
You that cannot trip enough.
On the level ground and rough;
You that stain your social station,
Family, and reputation! 4
_Gambler._ [_Examining the footprints._] Here he goes. And here the
tracks are lost.
_Mathura._ [_Gazes at the footprints. Reflectively._] Look! The feet are
turned around. And the temple hasn't any image. [_After a moment's
thought._] That rogue of a shampooer has gone into the temple
with his feet turned around.
_Gambler._ Let's follow him.
_Mathura._ All right. [_They enter the temple and take a good look,
then make signs to each other._]
_Gambler._ What! a wooden image?
_Mathura._ Of course not. It's stone. [_He shakes it with all his might,
then makes signs._] What do we care? Come, let's have a game. [_He
starts to gamble as hard as he can._]
_Shampooer._ [_Trying with all his might to repress the gambling
fever. Aside._] Oh, oh!
Oh, the rattle of dice is a charming thing,
When you haven't a copper left;
It works like a drum on the heart of a king,
Of all his realm bereft. 5
For gamblers leap down a mountain steep--
I know I shall not play.
Yet the rattle of dice is as sweet as the peep
Of nightingales in May. 6
_Gambler._ My turn, my turn!
P. 56.10]
_Mathura._ Not much! it's my turn.
_Shampooer._ [_Coming up quickly from behind._] Isn't it _my_ turn?
_Gambler._ We've got our man.
_Mathura._ [_Seizing him._] You jail-bird, you're caught. Pay me
my ten gold-pieces.
_Shampooer._ I'll pay you this very day.
_Mathura._ Pay me this very minute!
_Shampooer._ I'll pay you. Only have mercy!
_Mathura._ Come, will you pay me now?
_Shampooer._ My head is getting dizzy. [_He falls to the ground. The
others beat him with all their might._]
_Mathura._ There [_drawing the gamblers ring_] you're bound by
the gamblers' ring.
_Shampooer._ [_Rises. Despairingly._] What! bound by the gamblers'
ring? Confound it! That is a limit which we gamblers can't pass.
Where can I get the money to pay him?
_Mathura._ Well then, you must give surety.
_Shampooer._ I have an idea. [_He nudges the gambler._] I'll give you
half, if you'll forgive me the other half.
_Gambler._ All right.
_Shampooer._ [_To Mathura._] I'll give you surety for a half. You
might forgive me the other half.
_Mathura._ All right. Where's the harm?
_Shampooer._ [_Aloud._] You forgave me a half, sir?
[31.24. S.
_Mathura._ Yes.
_Shampooer._ [_To the gambler._] And you forgave me a half?
_Gambler._ Yes.
_Shampooer._ Then I think I'll be going.
_Mathura._ Pay me my ten gold-pieces! Where are you going?
_Shampooer._ Look at this, gentlemen, look at this! Here I just gave
surety to one of them for a half, and the other forgave me a half.
And even after that he is dunning me, poor helpless me!
_Mathura._ [_Seizing him._] My name is Mathura, the clever swindler,
and you're not going to swindle me this time. Pay up, jail-bird,
every bit of my money, and this minute, too.
_Shampooer._ How can I pay?
_Mathura._ Sell your father and pay.
_Shampooer._ Where can I get a father?
_Mathura._ Sell your mother and pay.
_Shampooer._ Where can I get a mother?
_Mathura._ Sell yourself and pay.
_Shampooer._ Have mercy! Lead me to the king's highway.
_Mathura._ Go ahead.
_Shampooer._ If it must be. [_He walks about._] Gentlemen, will you
buy me for ten gold-pieces from this gambling-master? [_He sees
a passer-by and calls out._] What is that? You wish to know what
I can do? I will be your house-servant. What! he has gone without
even answering. Well, here's another. I'll speak to him. [_He repeats
his offer._] What! this one too takes no notice of me. He is
gone. Confound it! I've had hard luck ever since Charudatta lost
his fortune.
_Mathura._ Will you pay?
_Shampooer._ How can I pay? [_He falls down. Mathura drags him
about._] Good gentlemen, save me, save me! [_Enter Darduraka._]
P. 61.5]
_Darduraka._ Yes, gambling is a kingdom without a throne.
You do not mind defeat at all;
Great are the sums you spend and win;
While kingly revenues roll in,
Rich men, like slaves, before you fall. 7
And again:
You earn your coin by gambling,
Your friends and wife by gambling,
Your gifts and food by gambling;
Your last cent goes by gambling. 8
And again:
My cash was taken by the trey;
The deuce then took my health away;
The ace then set me on the street;
The four completed my defeat. 9
[_He looks before him._] Here comes Mathura, our sometime
gambling-master. Well, as I can't escape, I think I'll put on my veil.
[_He makes any number of gestures with his cloak, then examines it._]
This cloth is sadly indigent in thread;
This lovely cloth lets in a lot of light;
This cloth's protective power is nearly fled;
This cloth is pretty when it's rolled up tight. 10
Yet after all, what more could a poor saint do? For you see,
One foot I've planted in the sky,
The other on the ground must lie.[41]
The elevation's rather high,
But the sun stands it. Why can't I? 11
_Mathura._ Pay, pay!
_Shampooer._ How can I pay? [_Mathura drags him about._]
_Darduraka._ Well, well, what is this I see? [_He addresses a bystander._]
What did you say, sir? "This shampooer is being maltreated
by the gambling-master, and no one will save him"? I'll
save him myself. [_He presses forward._] Stand back, stand back!
[33.25. S.
[_He takes a look._] Well, if this isn't that swindler Mathura. And
here is the poor saintly shampooer; a saint to be sure,
Who does not hang with bended head
Rigid till set of sun,
Who does not rub his back with sand
Till boils begin to run,
Whose shins dogs may not browse upon,
As they pass him in their rambling.[42]
Why should this tall and dainty man
Be so in love with gambling? 12
Well, I must pacify Mathura. [_He approaches._] How do you do,
Mathura? [_Mathura returns the greeting._]
_Darduraka._ What does this mean?
_Mathura._ He owes me ten gold-pieces.
_Darduraka._ A mere bagatelle!
_Mathura._ [_Pulling the rolled-up cloak from under Darduraka's
arm._] Look, gentlemen, look! The man in the ragged cloak calls
ten gold-pieces a mere bagatelle.
_Darduraka._ My good fool, don't I risk ten gold-pieces on a cast
of the dice? Suppose a man has money--is that any reason why
he should put it in his bosom and show it? But you,
You'll lose your caste, you'll lose your soul,
For ten gold-pieces that he stole,
To kill a man that's sound and whole,
With five good senses in him. 13
_Mathura._ Ten gold-pieces may be a mere bagatelle to you, sir. To
me they are a fortune.
_Darduraka._ Well then, listen to me. Just give him ten more, and
let him go to gambling again.
_Mathura._ And what then?
_Darduraka._ If he wins, he will pay you.
P. 63.12]
_Mathura._ And if he doesn't win?
_Darduraka._ Then he won't pay you.
_Mathura._ This is no time for nonsense. If you say that, you can
give him the money yourself. My name is Mathura. I'm a swindler
and I play a crooked game, and I'm not afraid of anybody. You
are an immoral scoundrel.
_Darduraka._ Who did you say was immoral?
_Mathura._ You're immoral.
_Darduraka._ Your father is immoral. [_He gives the shampooer a
sign to escape._]
_Mathura._ You cur! That is just the way that you gamble.
_Darduraka._ That is the way I gamble?
_Mathura._ Come, shampooer, pay me my ten gold-pieces.
_Shampooer._ I'll pay you this very day. I'll pay at once. [_Mathura
drags him about._]
_Darduraka._ Fool! You may maltreat him when I am away, but
not before my eyes.
[_Mathura seizes the shampooer and hits him on the nose. The shampooer
bleeds, faints, and falls flat. Darduraka approaches and interferes.
Mathura strikes Darduraka, and Darduraka strikes back._]
_Mathura._ Oh, oh, you accursèd hound! But I'll pay you for this.
_Darduraka._ My good fool, I was walking peaceably along the
street, and you struck me. If you strike me to-morrow in court,
then you will open your eyes.
_Mathura._ Yes, I'll open my eyes.
_Darduraka._ How will you open your eyes?
_Mathura._ [_Opening his eyes wide._] This is the way I'll open my
eyes.
[_Darduraka throws dust in Mathura's eyes, and gives the shampooer
a sign to escape. Mathura shuts his eyes and falls down. The shampooer
escapes._]
[35.20. S.
_Darduraka._ [_Aside._] I have made an enemy of the influential
gambling-master Mathura. I had better not stay here. Besides, my
good friend Sharvilaka told me that a young herdsman named
Aryaka has been designated by a soothsayer as our future king.
Now everybody in my condition is running after him. I think I
will join myself to him. [_Exit._
_Shampooer._ [_Trembles as he walks away and looks about him._] Here
is a house where somebody has left the side-door open. I will go
in. [_He enters and perceives Vasantasena._] Madam, I throw myself
upon your protection.
_Vasantasena._ He who throws himself upon my protection shall be
safe. Close the door, girl. [_The maid does so._]
_Vasantasena._ What do you fear?
_Shampooer._ A creditor, madam.
_Vasantasena._ You may open the door now, girl.
_Shampooer._ [_To himself._] Ah! Her reasons for not fearing a creditor
are in proportion to her innocence. The proverb is right:
The man who knows his strength and bears a load
Proportioned to that strength, not more nor less,
Is safe from stumbling and from sore distress,
Although he wander on a dreary road. 14
That means me.
_Mathura._ [_Wiping his eyes. To the gambler._] Pay, pay!
_Gambler._ While we were quarreling with Darduraka, sir, the
man escaped.
_Mathura._ I broke that shampooer's nose for him with my fist
Come on! Let's trace him by the blood. [_They do so._]
_Gambler._ He went into Vasantasena's house, sir.
_Mathura._ Then that is the end of the gold-pieces.
_Gambler._ Let's go to court and lodge a complaint.
P. 67.1]
_Mathura._ The swindler would leave the house and escape. No, we
must besiege him and so capture him.
* * * * *
[_Vasantasena gives Madanika a sign._]
_Madanika._ Whence are you, sir? or who are you, sir? or whose son
are you, sir? or what is your business, sir? or what are you afraid of?
_Shampooer._ Listen, madam. My birthplace is Pataliputra, madam.
I am the son of a householder. I practise the trade of a shampooer.
_Vasantasena._ It is a very dainty art, sir, which you have mastered.
_Shampooer._ Madam, as an art I mastered it. It has now become a
mere trade.
_Madanika._ Your answers are most disconsolate, sir. Pray continue.
_Shampooer._ Yes, madam. When I was at home, I used to hear travelers
tell tales, and I wanted to see new countries, and so I came here. And
when I had come here to Ujjayini, I became the servant of a noble
gentleman. Such a handsome, courteous gentleman! When he gave money
away, he did not boast; when he was injured, he forgot it. To cut a long
story short: he was so courteous that he regarded his own person as the
possession of others, and had compassion on all who sought his
protection.
_Madanika._ Who may it be that adorns Ujjayini with the virtues
which he has stolen from the object of my mistress' desires?
_Vasantasena._ Good, girl, good! I had the same thought in mind.
_Madanika._ But to continue, sir--
_Shampooer._ Madam, he was so compassionate and so generous that
now--
_Vasantasena._ His riches have vanished?
_Shampooer._ I didn't say it. How did you guess it, madam?
_Vasantasena._ What was there to guess? Virtue and money seldom
keep company. In the pools from which men cannot drink there
is so much the more water.
_Madanika._ But sir, what is his name?
[37.23. S.
_Shampooer._ Madam, who does not know the name of this moon
of the whole world? He lives in the merchants' quarter. He whose
name is worthy of all honor is named Charudatta.
_Vasantasena._ [_Joyfully rising from her seat._] Sir, this house is your
own. Give him a seat, girl, and take this fan. The gentleman is
weary. [_Madanika does as she is bid._]
_Shampooer._ [_Aside._] What! so much honor because I mentioned
Charudatta's name? Heaven bless you, Charudatta! You are the
only man in the world who really lives. All others merely breathe.
[_He falls at Vasantasena's feet._] Enough, madam, enough. Pray
be seated, madam.
_Vasantasena._ [_Seating herself._] Where is he who is so richly your
creditor, sir?
_Shamp._
The good man's wealth consists in kindly deeds;
All other wealth is vain and quickly flies.
The man who honors not his neighbor's needs,
Does that man know what honor signifies? 15
_Vasantasena._ But to continue--
_Shampooer._ So I became a servant in his employ. And when his
wealth was reduced to his virtue, I began to live by gambling. But
fate was cruel, and I lost ten gold-pieces.
_Mathura._ I am ruined! I am robbed!
_Shampooer._ There are the gambling-master and the gambler, looking
for me. You have heard my story, madam. The rest is your
affair.
_Vasantasena._ Madanika, the birds fly everywhither when the tree
is shaken in which they have their nests. Go, girl, and give the
gambling-master and the gambler this bracelet. And tell them that
this gentleman sends it. [_She removes a bracelet from her arm, and
gives it to Madanika._]
_Madanika._ [_Receiving the bracelet._] Yes, mistress. [_She goes out._]
P. 71.2]
_Mathura._ I am ruined! I am robbed!
_Madanika._ Inasmuch as these two are looking up to heaven, and
sighing, and chattering, and fastening their eyes on the door, I
conclude that they must be the gambling-master and the gambler.
[_Approaching._] I salute you, sir.
_Mathura._ May happiness be yours.
_Madanika._ Sir, which of you is the gambling-master?
_Math._
O maiden, fair but something less than shy,
With red lip wounded in love's ardent play,
On whom is bent that sweet, coquettish eye?
For whom that lisp that steals the heart away? 16
_I_ haven't got any money. You'll have to look somewhere else.
_Madanika._ You are certainly no gambler, if you talk that way.
Is there any one who _owes_ you money?
_Mathura._ There is. He owes ten gold-pieces. What of him?
_Madanika._ In his behalf my mistress sends you this bracelet. No,
no! He sends it himself.
_Mathura._ [_Seizing it joyfully._] Well, well, you may tell the noble
youth that his account is squared. Let him come and seek delight
again in gambling. [_Exeunt Mathura and the gambler._
* * * * *
_Madanika._ [_Returning to Vasantasena._] Mistress, the gambling-master
and the gambler have gone away well-pleased.
_Vasantasena._ Go, sir, and comfort your kinsfolk.
_Shampooer._ Ah, madam, if it may be, these hands would gladly
practise their art in your service.
_Vasantasena._ But sir, he for whose sake you mastered the art,
who first received your service, he should have your service still.
_Shampooer._ [_Aside._] A very pretty way to decline my services. How
shall I repay her kindness? [_Aloud._] Madam, thus dishonored as a
gambler, I shall become a Buddhist monk. And so, madam, treasure these
words in your memory: "He was a shampooer, a gambler, a Buddhist monk."
[40.1. S.
_Vasantasena._ Sir, you must not act too precipitately.
_Shampooer._ Madam, my mind is made up. [_He walks about._]
I gambled, and in gambling I did fall,
Till every one beheld me with dismay.
Now I shall show my honest face to all,
And walk abroad upon the king's highway. 17
[_Tumultuous cries behind the scenes._]
_Shampooer._ [_Listening._] What is this? What is this? [_Addressing
some one behind the scenes._] What did you say? "Post-breaker,
Vasantasena's rogue elephant, is at liberty!" Hurrah! I must go
and see the lady's best elephant. No, no! What have I to do with
these things? I must hold to my resolution. [_Exit._
[_Then enter hastily Karnapuraka, highly delighted, wearing a gorgeous
mantle._]
_Karnapuraka._ Where is she? Where is my mistress?
_Madanika._ Insolent! What can it be that so excites you? You do
not see your mistress before your very eyes.
_Karnapuraka._ [_Perceiving Vasantasena._] Mistress, my service to
you.
_Vasantasena._ Karnapuraka, your face is beaming. What is it?
_Karnapuraka._ [_Proudly._] Oh, mistress! You missed it! You didn't
see Karnapuraka's heroism to-day!
_Vasantasena._ What, Karnapuraka, what?
_Karnapuraka._ Listen. Post-breaker, my mistress' rogue elephant,
broke the stake he was tied to, killed his keeper, and ran into the
street, making a terrible commotion. You should have heard the
people shriek,
Take care of the babies, as quick as you can.
And climb up a roof or a tree!
The elephant rogue wants the blood of a man.
Escape! Run away! Can't you see? 18
P. 74.14]
And:
How they lose their ankle-rings!
Girdles, set with gems and things,
Break away from fastenings!
As they stumble, trip, and blunder,
See the bracelets snap asunder,
Each a tangled, pearly wonder! 19
And that rogue of an elephant dives with his trunk and his feet
and his tusks into the city of Ujjayini, as if it were a lotus-pond
in full flower. At last he comes upon a Buddhist monk.[43] And
while the man's staff and his water-jar and his begging-bowl fly
every which way, he drizzles water over him and gets him between
his tusks. The people see him and begin to shriek again,
crying "Oh, oh, the monk is killed!"
_Vasantasena._ [_Anxiously._] Oh, what carelessness, what carelessness!
_Karnapuraka._ Don't be frightened. Just listen, mistress. Then,
with a big piece of the broken chain dangling about him, he picked
him up, picked up the monk between his tusks, and just then
Karnapuraka saw him, _I_ saw him, no, no! the slave who grows
fat on my mistress' rice-cakes saw him, stumbled with his left
foot over a gambler's score, grabbed up an iron pole out of a shop,
and challenged the mad elephant--
_Vasantasena._ Go on! Go on!
_Karnap._
I hit him--in a fit of passion, too--
He really looked like some great mountain peak.
And from between those tusks of his I drew
The sacred hermit meek. 20
_Vasantasena._ Splendid, splendid! But go on!
_Karnapuraka._ Then, mistress, all Ujjayini tipped over to one side,
like a ship loaded unevenly, and you could hear nothing but "Hurrah,
hurrah for Karnapuraka!" Then, mistress, a man touched the
places where he ought to have ornaments, and, finding that he
hadn't any, looked up, heaved a long sigh, and threw this mantle
over me.
[41.19. S.
_Vasantasena._ Find out, Karnapuraka, whether the mantle is perfumed
with jasmine or not.
_Karnapuraka._ Mistress, the elephant perfume is so strong that I
can't tell for sure.
_Vasantasena._ Then look at the name.
_Karnapuraka._ Here is the name. You may read it, mistress. [_He
hands her the mantle._]
_Vasantasena._ [_Reads._] Charudatta. [_She seizes the mantle eagerly
and wraps it about her._]
_Madanika._ The mantle is very becoming to her, Karnapuraka.
_Karnapuraka._ Oh, yes, the mantle is becoming enough.
_Vasantasena._ Here is your reward, Karnapuraka. [_She gives him
a gem._]
_Karnapuraka._ [_Taking it and bowing low._] Now the mantle is
most wonderfully becoming.
_Vasantasena._ Karnapuraka, where is Charudatta now?
_Karnapuraka._ He started to go home along this very street.
_Vasantasena._ Come, girl! Let us go to the upper balcony and see
Charudatta. [_Exeunt omnes._
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 39: Perhaps masseur would be more accurate.]
[Footnote 40: That of Mathura, the keeper of the gambling house.]
[Footnote 41: A humorously exaggerated reference to Indian ascetic
practices.]
[Footnote 42: See note on page 33.]
[Footnote 43: The shampooer, whose transformation is astonishingly
sudden.]
ACT THE THIRD
THE HOLE IN THE WALL
[_Enter Charudatta's servant, Vardhamanaka._]
_Vardh._
A master, kindly and benevolent,
His servants love, however poor he be.
The purse-proud, with a will on harshness bent,
Pays service in the coin of cruelty. 1
And again:
A bullock greedy for a feast of corn
You never can prevent;
A wife who wants her lord to wear a horn
You never can prevent;
A man who loves to gamble night and morn
You never can prevent;
And blemishes[44] that with a man are born
You never can prevent. 2
It is some time since Charudatta went to the concert. It is past
midnight, and still he does not come. I think I will go into the
outer hall and take a nap. [_He does so._]
* * * * *
[_Enter Charudatta and Maitreya._]
_Charudatta._ How beautifully Rebhila sang! The lute is indeed a
pearl, a pearl not of the ocean.
Gently the anxious lover's heart befriending,
Consoling when true lovers may not meet,
To love-lorn souls the dearest comforts sending,
It adds to sweetest love its more of sweet. 3
_Maitreya._ Well then, let's go into the house.
_Charudatta._ But how wonderfully Master Rebhila sang!
[44.1. S
_Maitreya._ There are just two things that always make me laugh.
One is a woman talking Sanskrit, and the other is a man who tries
to sing soft and low. Now when a woman talks Sanskrit, she is like
a heifer with a new rope through her nose; all you hear is "soo,
soo, soo." And when a man tries to sing soft and low, he reminds
me of an old priest muttering texts, while the flowers in his chaplet
dry up. No, I don't like it!
_Charudatta._ My friend, Master Rebhila sang most wonderfully
this evening. And still you are not satisfied.
The notes of love, peace, sweetness, could I trace,
The note that thrills, the note of passion too,
The note of woman's loveliness and grace--
Ah, my poor words add nothing, nothing new!
But as the notes in sweetest cadence rang,
I thought it was my hidden love who sang. 4
The melody of song, the stricken strings
In undertone that half-unconscious clings,
More clearly sounding when the passions rise,
But ever sweeter as the music dies.
Words that strong passion fain would say again,
Yet checks their second utterance--in vain;
For music sweet as this lives on, until
I walk as hearing sweetest music still. 5
_Maitreya._ But see, my friend! The very dogs are sound asleep in
the shops that look out on the market. Let us go home. [_He looks
before him._] Look, look! The blessèd moon seems to give place to
darkness, as she descends from her palace in heaven.
_Charudatta._ True.
The moon gives place to darkness as she dips
Behind the western mountain; and the tips
Of her uplifted horns alone appear,
Like two sharp-pointed tusks uplifted clear,
Where bathes an elephant in waters cool,
Who shows naught else above the jungle pool. 6
P. 89.1]
_Maitreya._ Well, here is our house. Vardhamanaka, Vardhamanaka,
open the door!
_Vardhamanaka._ I hear Maitreya's voice. Charudatta has returned.
I must open the door for him. [_He does so._] Master, I salute you.
Maitreya, I salute you too. The couch is ready. Pray be seated.
[_Charudatta and Maitreya enter and seat themselves._]
_Maitreya._ Vardhamanaka, call Radanika to wash our feet.
_Charudatta._ [_Compassionately._] She sleeps. Do not wake her.
_Vardhamanaka._ I will bring the water, Maitreya, and you may
wash Charudatta's feet.
_Maitreya._ [_Angrily._] Look, man. He acts like the son of a slave
that he is, for he is bringing water. But he makes me wash your
feet, and I am a Brahman.
_Charudatta._ Good Maitreya, do you bring the water, and Vardhamanaka
shall wash my feet.
_Vardhamanaka._ Yes, Maitreya. Do you bring the water. [_Maitreya
does so. Vardhamanaka washes Charudatta's feet, then moves away._]
_Charudatta._ Let water be brought for the Brahman's feet.
_Maitreya._ What good does water do my feet? I shall have to roll
in the dirt again, like a beaten ass.
_Vardhamanaka._ Maitreya, you are a Brahman.
_Maitreya._ Yes, like a slow-worm among all the other snakes, so
am I a Brahman among all the other Brahmans.
_Vardhamanaka._ Maitreya, I will wash your feet after all. [_He does
so._] Maitreya, this golden casket I was to keep by day, you by
night. Take it. [_He gives it to Maitreya, then exit._
_Maitreya._ [_Receiving the casket._] The thing is here still. Isn't there
a single thief in Ujjayini to steal the wretch that robs me of my
sleep? Listen. I am going to take it into the inner court.
[46.1. S.
_Charud._
Such lax attention we can ill afford.
If we are trusted by a courtezan,
Then, Brahman, prove yourself an honest man,
And guard it safely, till it be restored. 7
[_He nods, repeating the stanza_ "The melody of song, the stricken
strings:" _page_ 44.]
_Maitreya._ Are you going to sleep?
_Charudatta._ Yes, so it seems.
For conquering sleep, descending on mine eyes,
First smites the brow with unresisted blow;
Unseen, elusive, like old age, she tries
To gather strength by weakening her foe. 8
_Maitreya._ Then let's go to sleep. [_He does so._]
* * * * *
[_Enter Sharvilaka._[45]]
_Sharv._
I made an entrance for my body's round
By force of art and arms, a path to deeds!
I skinned my sides by crawling on the ground,
Like a snake that sloughs the skin no longer sound:
And now I go where my profession leads. 9
[_He gazes at the sky. Joyfully._] See! The blessèd moon is setting.
For well I know,
My trade would fain from watchmen's eyes be shrouded;
Valiant, I force the dwelling of another.
But see, the stars in deepest dark are clouded,
And the night shields me like a careful mother. 10
I made a breach in the orchard wall and entered. And now I must force my
way into the inner court as well.
Yes, let men call it vulgar, if they will,
The trade that thrives while sleeps the sleepyhead;
Yes, knavery, not bravery, call it still,
To overreach confiding folk a-bed.
P. 86.9]
Far better blame and hissing, fairly won.
Than the pay of genuflecting underlings;
This antique path was trod by Drona's son,
Who slew the sleeping, unsuspecting kings. 11
But where shall I make the breach?
Where is the spot which falling drops decayed?
For each betraying sound is deadened there.
No yawning breach should in the walls be made,
So treatises on robbery declare.
Where does the palace crumble? Where the place
That niter-eaten bricks false soundness wear?
Where shall I 'scape the sight of woman's face?
Fulfilment of my wishes waits me there. 12
[_He feels the wall._] Here is a spot weakened by constant sun and
sprinkling and eaten by saltpeter rot. And here is a pile of dirt
thrown up by a mouse. Now heaven be praised! My venture prospers.
This is the first sign of success for Skanda's[46] sons. Now first
of all, how shall I make the breach? The blessèd Bearer of the
Golden Lance[47] has prescribed four varieties of breach, thus: if
the bricks are baked, pull them out; if they are unbaked, cut
them; if they are made of earth, wet them; if they are made of
wood, split them. Here we have baked bricks; ergo, pull out the
bricks.
Now what shall be the shape I give the breach?
A "lotus," "cistern," "crescent moon," or "sun"?
"Oblong," or "cross," or "bulging pot"? for each
The treatises permit. Which one? which one?
And where shall I display my sovereign skill,
That in the morning men may wonder still? 13
In this wall of baked bricks, the "bulging pot" would be effective. I
will make that.
[47.16. S.
At other walls that I have pierced by night,
And at my less successful ventures too,
The crowd of neighbors gazed by morning light,
Assigning praise or blame, as was my due. 14
Praise to the boon-conferring god, to Skanda of immortal youth!
Praise to him, the Bearer of the Golden Lance, the Brahman's
god, the pious! Praise to him, the Child of the Sun! Praise to him,
the teacher of magic, whose first pupil I am! For he found pleasure
in me and gave me magic ointment,
With which so I anointed be,
No watchman's eye my form shall see;
And edged sword that falls on me
From cruel wounds shall leave me free. 15
[_He anoints himself._] Alas, I have forgotten my measuring line.
[_Reflecting._] Aha! This sacred cord[48] shall be my measuring line.
Yes, the sacred cord is a great blessing to a Brahman, especially to one
like me. For, you see,
With this he measures, ere he pierce a wall,
And picks the lock, when jewels are at stake.
It serves as key to bolted door and hall,
As tourniquet for bite of worm and snake. 16
The measuring is done. I begin my task. [_He does so, then takes a
look._] My breach lacks but a single brick. Alas, I am bitten by a
snake. [_He binds his finger with the sacred cord, and manifests the
workings of poison._] I have applied the remedy, and now I am restored.
[_He continues his work, then gazes._] Ah, there burns a candle.
See!
Though jealous darkness hems it round,
The golden-yellow candle from its place
Shines through the breach upon the ground,
Like a streak of gold upon the touchstone's face. 17
P. 87.9]
[_He returns to his work._] The breach is finished. Good! I enter.
But no, I will not enter yet. I will shove a dummy in. [_He does
so._] Ah, no one is there. Praise be to Skanda! [_He enters and looks
about._] See! Two men asleep. Come, for my own protection I will
open the door. But the house is old and the door squeaks. I must
look for water. Now where might water be? [_He looks about, finds
water, and sprinkles the door. Anxiously._] I hope it will not fall
upon the floor and make a noise. Come, this is the way. [_He puts
his back against the door and opens it cautiously._] Good! So much
for that. Now I must discover whether these two are feigning
sleep, or whether they are asleep in the fullest meaning of the
term. [_He tries to terrify them, and notes the effect._] Yes, they must
be asleep in the fullest meaning of the term. For see!
Their breath first calmly rises, ere it sink;
Its regularity all fear defies.
Unmoving in their socket-holes, the eyes
Are tightly closed, and never seem to wink.
The limbs relaxed, at ease the bodies lie,
I see their feet beyond the bedstead peep,
The lighted candle vexes not the eye;
It would, if they were only feigning sleep. 18
[_He looks about him._] What! a drum? And here is a flute. And
here, a snare-drum. And here, a lute. And reed-pipes. And yonder,
manuscripts. Is this the house of a dancing-master? But no!
When I entered, I was convinced that this was a palatial residence.
Now then, is this man poor in the fullest meaning of the term, or,
from fear of the king or of thieves, does he keep his property
buried? Well, my own property is buried, too. But I will scatter
the seeds that betray subterranean gold. [_He does so._] The scattered
seeds nowhere swell up. Ah, he is poor in the fullest meaning
of the term. Good! I go.
_Maitreya._ [_Talking in his sleep._] Look, man. I see something like
a hole in the wall. I see something like a thief. You had better
take this golden casket.
[49.7. S
_Sharvilaka._ I wonder if the man has discovered that I have entered,
and is showing off his poverty in order to make fun of me.
Shall I kill him, or is the poor devil talking in his sleep? [_He takes
a look._] But see! This thing wrapped in a ragged bath-clout, now
that I inspect it by the light of my candle, is in truth a jewel-casket
Suppose I take it. But no! It is hardly proper to rob a
man of good birth, who is as poor as I am. I go.
_Maitreya._ My friend, by the wishes of cows and Brahmans[49] I conjure
you to take this golden casket.
_Sharvilaka._ One may not disregard the sacred wish of a cow and
the wish of a Brahman. I will take it. But look! There burns the
candle. I keep about me a moth for the express purpose of extinguishing
candles. I will let him enter the flame. This is his place
and hour. May this moth which I here release, depart to flutter
above the flame in varying circles. The breeze from the insect's
wings has translated the flame into accursèd darkness. Or shall I
not rather curse the darkness brought by me upon my Brahmanic
family? For my father was a man who knew the four Vedas, who
would not accept a gift; and I, Sharvilaka, his son, and a Brahman,
I am committing a crime for the sake of that courtezan girl
Madanika. Now I will grant the Brahman's wish. [_He reaches out
for the casket._]
_Maitreya._ How cold your fingers are, man!
_Sharvilaka._ What carelessness! My fingers are cold from touching
water. Well, I will put my hand in my armpit [_He warms his left hand
and takes the casket._]
_Maitreya._ Have you got it?
_Sharvilaka._ I could not refuse a Brahman's request. I have it.
P. 80.9]
_Maitreya._ Now I shall sleep as peacefully as a merchant who has
sold his wares.
_Sharvilaka._ O great Brahman, sleep a hundred years! Alas that a
Brahman family should thus be plunged in darkness for the sake
of Madanika, a courtezan! Or better, I myself am thus plunged
in darkness.
A curse on poverty, I say!
'T is stranger to the manly will;
This act that shuns the light of day
I curse indeed, but do it still. 19
Well then, I must go to Vasantasena's house to buy Madanika's
freedom. [_He walks about and looks around him._] Ah, I think I
hear footsteps. I hope they are not those of policemen. Never mind.
I will pretend to be a pillar, and wait. But after all, do policemen
exist for me, for Sharvilaka? Why, I am
A cat for crawling, and a deer for flight,
A hawk for rending, and a dog for sight
To judge the strength of men that wake or sleep,
A snake, when 't is advisable to creep,
Illusion's self, to seem a saint or rogue,
Goddess of Speech in understanding brogue;
A light in blackest night, in holes a lizard I can be,
A horse on terra firma, and a ship upon the sea. 20
And again:
Quick as a snake, and steady as a hill;
In flight the prince of birds can show no greater skill;
In searching on the ground I am as keen as any hare,
In strength I am a lion, and a wolf to rend and tear. 21
_Radanika._ [_Entering._] Dear me! Vardhamanaka went to sleep
in the outer court, and now he is not there. Well, I will call
Maitreya. [_She walks about._]
[51.1. S.
_Sharvilaka._ [_Prepares to strike down Radanika, but first takes a
look._] What! a woman? Good! I go. [_Exit._
* * * * *
_Radanika._ [_Recoiling in terror._] Oh, oh, a thief has cut a hole in
the wall of our house and is escaping, I must go and wake Maitreya.
[_She approaches Maitreya._] Oh, Maitreya, get up, get up!
A thief has cut a hole in the wall of our house and has escaped.
_Maitreya._ [_Rising._] What do you mean, wench? "A hole in the
wall has cut a thief and has escaped"?
_Radanika._ Poor fool! Stop your joking. Don't you see it?
_Maitreya._ What do you mean, wench? "It looks as if a second
door had been thrown open"? Get up, friend Charudatta, get up!
A thief has made a hole in the wall of our house and has escaped.
_Charudatta._ Yes, yes! A truce to your jests!
_Maitreya._ But it isn't a jest. Look!
_Charudatta._ Where?
_Maitreya._ Why, here.
_Charudatta._ [_Gazing._] What a very remarkable hole!
The bricks are drawn away below, above;
The top is narrow, but the center wide;
As if the great house-heart had burst with pride,
Fearing lest the unworthy share its love. 22
To think that science should be expended on a task like this!
_Maitreya._ My friend, this hole must have been made by one of
two men; either by a stranger, or else for practice by a student
of the science of robbery. For what man here in Ujjayini does
not know how much wealth there is in our house?
_Charud._
Stranger he must have been who made the breach,
His customed harvest in my house to reap;
He has not learned that vanished riches teach
A calm, untroubled sleep.
He saw the sometime greatness of my home
And forced an entrance; for his heart did leap
With short-lived hope; now he must elsewhere roam,
And over broken hopes must sorely weep. 23
Just think of the poor fellow telling his friends: "I entered the
house of a merchant's son, and found--nothing."
P. 92.4]
_Maitreya._ Do you mean to say that you pity the rascally robber? Thinks
he--"Here's a great house. Here's the place to carry off a jewel-casket
or a gold-casket." [_He remembers the casket. Despondently. Aside._]
Where _is_ that golden casket? [_He remembers the events of the night.
Aloud._] Look, man! You are always saying "Maitreya is a fool, Maitreya
is no scholar." But I certainly acted wisely in handing over that golden
casket to you. If I hadn't, the son of a slave would have carried it
off.
_Charudatta._ A truce to your jests!
_Maitreya._ Just because I'm a fool, do you suppose I don't even
know the place and time for a jest?
_Charudatta._ But when did this happen?
_Maitreya._ Why, when I told you that your fingers were cold.
_Charudatta._ It might have been. [_He searches about. Joyfully._]
My friend, I have something pleasant to tell you.
_Maitreya._ What? Wasn't it stolen?
_Charudatta._ Yes.
_Maitreya._ What is the pleasant news, then?
_Charudatta._ The fact that he did not go away disappointed.
_Maitreya._ But it was only entrusted to our care.
_Charudatta._ What! entrusted to our care? [_He swoons._]
_Maitreya._ Come to yourself, man. Is the fact that a thief stole what
was entrusted to you, any reason why you should swoon?
53.5. S.]
_Charudatta._ [_Coming to himself._] Ah, my friend,
Who will believe the truth?
Suspicion now is sure.
This world will show no ruth
To the inglorious poor. 24
Alas! If envious fate before
Has wooed my wealth alone.
Why should she seek my store
Of virtue as her own? 25
_Maitreya._ I intend to deny the whole thing. Who gave anybody
anything? who received anything from anybody? who was a witness?
_Charudatta._ And shall I tell a falsehood now?
No! I will beg until I earn
The wherewithal my debt to pay.
Ignoble falsehood I will spurn.
That steals the character away. 26
_Radanika._ I will go and tell his good wife. [_She goes out, returning
with Charudatta's wife._]
_Wife._ [_Anxiously._] Oh! Is it true that my lord is uninjured, and
Maitreya too?
_Radanika._ It is true, mistress. But the gems which belong to the
courtezan have been stolen. [_Charudatta's wife swoons._] O my good
mistress! Come to yourself!
_Wife._ [_Recovering._] Girl, how can you say that my lord is uninjured?
Better that he were injured in body than in character. For
now the people of Ujjayini will say that my lord committed this
crime because of his poverty. [_She looks up and sighs._] Ah, mighty
Fate! The destinies of the poor, uncertain as the water-drops which
fall upon a lotus-leaf, seem to thee but playthings. There remains
to me this one necklace, which I brought with me from my mother's
house. But my lord would be too proud to accept it. Girl,
call Maitreya hither.
P. 95.7]
_Radanika._ Yes, mistress. [_She approaches Maitreya._] Maitreya,
my lady summons you.
_Maitreya._ Where is she?
_Radanika._ Here. Come!
_Maitreya._ [_Approaching._] Heaven bless you!
_Wife._ I salute you, sir. Sir, will you look straight in front of you?
_Maitreya._ Madam, here stands a man who looks straight in front
of him.
_Wife._ Sir, you must accept this.
_Maitreya._ Why?
_Wife._ I have observed the Ceremony of the Gems. And on this
occasion one must make as great a present as one may to a Brahman.
This I have not done, therefore pray accept this necklace.
_Maitreya._ [_Receiving the necklace._] Heaven bless you! I will go
and tell my friend.
_Wife._ You must not do it in such a way as to make me blush,
Maitreya. [_Exit._
_Maitreya._ [_In astonishment._] What generosity!
* * * * *
_Charudatta._ How Maitreya lingers! I trust his grief is not leading
him to do what he ought not. Maitreya, Maitreya!
_Maitreya._ [_Approaching._] Here I am. Take that. [_He displays the
necklace._]
_Charudatta._ What is this?
_Maitreya._ Why, that is the reward you get for marrying such a
wife.
_Charudatta._ What! my wife takes pity on me? Alas, now am I
poor indeed!
When fate so robs him of his all,
That on her pity he must call,
The man to woman's state doth fall,
The woman is the man. 27
But no, I am not poor. For I have a wife
Whose love outlasts my wealthy day;
In thee a friend through good and ill;
And truth that naught could take away:
Ah! this the poor man lacketh still. 28
[55.9. S.
Maitreya, take the necklace and go to Vasantasena. Tell her in
my name that we have gambled away the golden casket, forgetting
that it was not our own, that we trust she will accept this
necklace in its place.
_Maitreya._ But you must not give away this necklace, the pride of
the four seas, for that cheap thing 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. 29
Friend, I conjure you by this gesture, not to return until you have
delivered it into her hands. Vardhamanaka, do you speedily
Fill up the opening with the selfsame bricks;
Thus will I thwart the process of the law,
For the blemish of so great a scandal sticks. 30
And, friend Maitreya, you must show your pride by not speaking
too despondently.
_Maitreya._ How can a poor man help speaking despondently?
_Charudatta._ Poor I am not, my friend. For I have a wife
Whose love outlasts my wealthy day;
In thee a friend through good and ill;
And truth that naught could take away:
Ah, this the poor man lacketh still. (28)
Go then, and after performing rites of purification, I will offer
my morning prayer. [_Exeunt omnes._
FOOTNOTES:
[Footnote 44: This refers to Charudatta's generosity, which continues
after his wealth has vanished.]
[Footnote 45: The following scene satirises the Hindu love of system and
classification.]
[Footnote 46: The patron saint of thieves.]
[Footnote 47: An epithet of Skanda.]
[Footnote 48: The sacrificial cord, which passes over the left shoulder
and under the right arm, is worn constantly by members of the three
upper castes.]
[Footnote 49: Sacred creatures.]
ACT THE FOURTH
MADANIKA AND SHARVILAKA
[_Enter a maid._]
_Maid._
I am entrusted with a message for my mistress by her mother.
Here is my mistress. She is gazing at a picture and is talking
with Madanika. I will go to her. [_She walks about. Then enter
Vasantasena as described, and Madanika._]
_Vasantasena._ Madanika girl, is this portrait really like Charudatta?
_Madanika._ Very like.
_Vasantasena._ How do you know?
_Madanika._ Because my mistress' eyes are fastened so lovingly
upon it.
_Vasantasena._ Madanika girl, do you say this because courtezan
courtesy demands it?
_Madanika._ But mistress, is the courtesy of a girl who lives in a
courtezan's house, necessarily false?
_Vasantasena._ Girl, courtezans meet so many kinds of men that
they do learn a false courtesy.
_Madanika._ But when the eyes of my mistress find such delight in
a thing, and her heart too, what need is there to ask the reason?
_Vasantasena._ But I should not like to have my friends laugh at me.
_Madanika._ You need not be afraid. Women understand women.
_Maid._ [_Approaching._] Mistress, your mother sends word that a
covered cart is waiting at the side-door, and that you are to take
a drive.
_Vasantasena._ Tell me, is it Charudatta who invites me?
_Maid._ Mistress, the man who sent ornaments worth ten thousand
gold-pieces with the cart--
[58.6. S.
_Vasantasena._ Is who?
_Maid._ Is the king's brother-in-law, Sansthanaka.
_Vasantasena._ [_Indignantly._] Go! and never come again on such
an errand.
_Maid._ Do not be angry, mistress. I was only sent with the message.
_Vasantasena._ But it is the message which makes me angry.
_Maid._ But what shall I tell your mother?
_Vasantasena._ Tell my mother never to send me another such
message, unless she wishes to kill me.