_Bishu_
He gets angry when he can’t understand.
_Nandini_
Bishu, don’t you feel pity for him?
_Bishu_
The day when God will be moved to pity for him, he will die.
_Nandini_
No, no, you don’t know how desperately he wants to live.
_Bishu_
You will see this very day what his living means. I don’t know
whether you’ll be able to bear the sight.
_Nandini_
There, look, there’s a shadow. I am sure the Governor has secretly
heard what we’ve been saying.
_Bishu_
This place is dark with the Governor’s shadow, it is everywhere. How
do you like him?
_Nandini_
I have never seen anything so lifeless,--like a cane stick cut from
the cane bush,--no leaves, no roots, no sap in the veins.
_Bishu_
Cut off from life, he spends himself in repressing life.
_Nandini_
Hush, he will hear you.
_Bishu_
He hears even when you are silent, which is all the more dangerous.
When I am with the diggers I am careful in my speech, so much so that
the Governor thinks I’m the sorriest of the lot, and spares me out of
sheer contempt. But, my mad girl, when I am with you my mind scorns
to be cautious.
_Nandini_
No, no, you must not court danger. There comes the Governor.
(_The Governor comes in._)
_Governor_
Hallo, 69 Ng! you seem to be making friends with everybody, without
distinction.
_Bishu_
You may remember that I began by making friends even with you, only
it was the distinction that stood in the way.
_Governor_
Well, what are we discussing now?
_Bishu_
We are discussing how to escape from this fortress of yours.
_Governor_
Really? So recklessly, that you don’t even mind confessing it?
_Bishu_
Sir Governor, it doesn’t need much cleverness to know that when a
captive bird pecks at the bars it’s not in the spirit of caress. What
does it matter whether that’s openly confessed or not?
_Governor_
The captives’ want of love we were aware of, but their not fearing
to admit it has become evident only recently.
_Nandini_
Won’t you let Rañjan come?
_Governor_
You will see him this very day.
_Nandini_
I knew that; still, for your message of hope I wish you victory.
Governor, take this garland of _kunda_ flowers.
_Governor_
Why throw away the garland thus, and not keep it for Rañjan?
_Nandini_
There _is_ a garland for him.
_Governor_
Aha, I thought so! I suppose it’s the one hanging round your neck.
The garland of victory may be of _kunda_ flowers, the gift of the
hand; but the garland of welcome is of red oleanders, the gift of the
heart. Well, let’s be quick in accepting what comes from the hand,
for that will fade; as for the heart’s offering, the longer it waits
the more precious it grows.
[_The Governor goes._
_Nandini_ (_knocking at the window_)
Do you hear? Let me come into your room.
_Voice_ (_from behind the scenes_)
Why always the same futile request? Who is that with you? A pair to
Rañjan?
_Bishu_
No, King, I am the obverse side of Rañjan, on which falls the shadow.
_Voice_
What use has Nandini for you?
_Bishu_
The use which music has for the hollow of the flute.
_Voice_
Nandini, what is this man to you?
_Nandini_
He’s my partner in music. My heart soars in his voice, my pain cries
in his tunes,--that’s what he tells me.
(_Sings_)
_“I love, I love,”--’Tis the cry that breaks out
from the bosom of earth and water._
_Voice_
So that’s your partner! What if I dissolved your partnership this
very minute?
_Nandini_
Why are you so cross? Haven’t you any companion yourself?
_Voice_
Has the mid-day sun any companion?
_Nandini_
Well, let’s change the subject. What’s that? what’s that in your hand?
_Voice_
A dead frog.
_Nandini_
What for?
_Voice_
Once upon a time this frog got into a hole in a stone, and in that
shelter it existed for three thousand years. I have learnt from it
the secret of continuing to exist, but to live it does not know.
To-day I felt bored and smashed its shelter. I’ve thus saved it from
existing for ever. Isn’t that good news?
_Nandini_
Your stone walls will also fall away from around me to-day,--I shall
meet Rañjan.
_Voice_