Sansthānaka. I'm not going without Vasantasenā.
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
Sansthānaka. If you're going, go along. I'm not going.
Courtier. Very well. I will go.[Exit.
[21]
P. 38.2]
Sansthānaka. 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.
Sansthānaka. By whom?
Maitreya. By destiny.
Sansthānaka. Shtand up, then, shtand up!
Maitreya. We shall.
Sansthānaka. When?
Maitreya. When fate is kind again.
Sansthānaka. Weep, then, weep!
Maitreya. We have wept.
Sansthānaka. Who made you?
Maitreya. Poverty.
Sansthānaka. Laugh, then, laugh!
Maitreya. Laugh we shall.
Sansthānaka. When?
Maitreya. When Chārudatta is happy once more.
Sansthānaka. You manikin, give poor little Chārudatta 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 Vasantasenā—she has been in love with you ever shince she went into the park where Kāma'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;
[22]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.
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] Tell me, shervant. Is mashter really gone?
Servant. Yes, sir.
Sansthānaka. Then we will go as quickly as we can.
Servant. Then take your sword, master.
Sansthānaka. You can keep it.
Servant. Here it is, master. Take your sword, master.
Sansthānaka. [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
[Sansthānaka and the servant walk about, then exeunt.
Maitreya. Mistress Radanikā, you must not tell good Chārudatta of this outrage. I am sure you would only add to the poor man's sorrows.
Radanikā. Good Maitreya, you know Radanikā. Her lips are sealed.
Maitreya. So be it.
* * *
Chārudatta. [To Vasantasenā.] Radanikā, 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.][23]
P. 49.19]
Vasantasenā. [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 Chārudatta see.]
Chārudatta. Come, Radanikā, take Rohasena and enter the heart of the house.
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] Ah me unhappy, that have little part or lot in your heart!
Chārudatta. Come, Radanikā, 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 Radanikā.] Sir, here is Radanikā.
Chārudatta. Here is Radanikā? Who then is this—
This unknown lady, by my robe
Thus clinging, desecrated,
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] Say rather "consecrated."
Chārudatta.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 Vasantasenā, who has been in love with you ever since she saw you in the garden where Kāma's temple stands.
Chārudatta. What! this is Vasantasenā? [Aside.]
My love for whom—my fortune spent—
My wretched self in twain has rent.
Like coward's anger, inward bent.55
[24]
[23. 19. S.
Maitreya. My friend, that brother-in-law of the king says—
Chārudatta. Well?
Maitreya. "This wench with golden ornaments and golden jewels, this female stage-manager looking after the rehearsal of a new play, this Vasantasenā—she has been in love with you ever since she went into the park where Kāma's temple stands. And when we tried to conciliate her by force, she went into your house."
Vasantasenā. [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."
Chārudatta. [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 Vasantasenā, 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.
Vasantasenā. 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.]
Chārudatta. Very well, let us no longer trouble ourselves with conventions.
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] What a delightfully clever hint! But it would hardly be proper to spend the night, considering how I[25] 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]
Chārudatta. This house is not worthy of the trust.
Vasantasenā. You mistake, sir! It is to men that treasures are entrusted, not to houses.
Chārudatta. Maitreya, will you receive the jewels?
Vasantasenā. I am much indebted to you. [She hands him the jewels.]
Maitreya. [Receiving them.] Heaven bless you, madam.
Chārudatta. Fool! They are only entrusted to us.
Maitreya. [Aside.] Then the thieves may take them, for all I care.
Chārudatta. In a very short time—
Maitreya. What she has entrusted to us, belongs to us.
Chārudatta. I shall restore them.
Vasantasenā. I should be grateful, sir, if this gentleman would accompany me home.
Chārudatta. 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.
Chārudatta. Very well. I will accompany her myself. Let the torches be lighted, to ensure our safety on the highway.
Maitreya. Vardhamānaka, light the torches.
Vardhamānaka. [Aside to Maitreya.] What! light torches without oil?
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] These torches of ours are like courtezans who despise their poor lovers. They won't light up unless you feed them.[26]
[25.23. S.
Chārudatta. 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 Vasantasenā, we have reached your home. Pray enter. [Vasantasenā gazes ardently at him, then exit.] Comrade, Vasantasenā 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 Vardhamānaka by day.
Maitreya. Very well.[Exeunt ambo.
FOOTNOTES:
[30] During the mating season, a fragrant liquor exudes from the forehead of the elephant. Of this liquor bees are very fond.
[31] The most striking peculiarity of Sansthānaka's dialect—his substitution of sh for s—I have tried to imitate in the translation.
[32] Red arsenic, used as a cosmetic.
[33] Here, as elsewhere, Sansthānaka'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.
[34] A name of Krishna, who is perhaps the most amorous character in Indian story.
[35] Cupid.
[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.
[37] These are all epithets of the same god.
[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 Vasantasenā as the veil of autumn clouds to the earth.
* * *
[27]
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 Vasantasenā, seated, and Madanikā.]
Vasantasenā. Well, girl, and then—
Madanikā. But mistress, you were not speaking of anything. What do you mean?
Vasantasenā. Why, what did I say?
Madanikā. You said, "and then"—
Vasantasenā. [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.
Vasantasenā. 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.
Madanikā. My dear mistress, it is love, not naughtiness, that asks the question—but what does this mean?
Vasantasenā. Tell me, Madanikā. How do I seem to you?
Madanikā. My mistress is so absent-minded that I know her heart is filled with longing for somebody.
Vasantasenā. Well guessed. My Madanikā is quick to fathom another's heart.
Madanikā. I am very, very glad. Yes, Kāma is indeed mighty, and [28]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.
Vasantasenā. Girl, I wish to love, not to worship.
Madanikā. Is it a Brahman that excites your passion, some youth distinguished for very particular learning?
Vasantasenā. A Brahman I should have to reverence.
Madanikā. Or is it some young merchant, grown enormously wealthy from visiting many cities?
Vasantasenā. 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.
Madanikā. It isn't a king, nor a favorite, nor a Brahman, nor a merchant. Who is it then that the princess loves?
Vasantasenā. Girl! Girl! You went with me to the park where Kāma's temple stands?
Madanikā. Yes, mistress.
Vasantasenā. And yet you ask, as if you were a perfect stranger.
Madanikā. Now I know. Is it the man who comforted you when you asked to be protected?
Vasantasenā. Well, what was his name?
Madanikā. Why, he lives in the merchants' quarter.
Vasantasenā. But I asked you for his name.
Madanikā. His name, mistress, is a good omen in itself. His name is Chārudatta.
Vasantasenā. [Joyfully.] Good, Madanikā, good. You have guessed it.
Madanikā. [Aside.] So much for that. [Aloud.] Mistress, they say he is poor.
Vasantasenā. 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.[29]
P. 59.14]
Madanikā. But mistress, do the butterflies visit the mango-tree when its blossoms have fallen?
Vasantasenā. That is just why we call that sort of a girl a butterfly.
Madanikā. Well, mistress, if you love him, why don't you go and visit him at once?
Vasantasenā. 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.
Madanikā. Is that the reason why you left your jewels with him?
Vasantasenā. 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 Māthura and the gambler.]
[30]
[30.1. S.
Māthura. 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 yo
u in;
With Indra, the god, you may stay:
For there's never a god can save your skin.
While Māthura wants his pay.3
Māthura.
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.
Māthura. [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.
Māthura. All right. [They enter the temple and take a good look, then make signs to each other.]
Gambler. What! a wooden image?
Māthura. 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;
[31]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]
Māthura. Not much! it's my turn.
Shampooer. [Coming up quickly from behind.] Isn't it my turn?
The Little Clay Cart Page 5