The Little Clay Cart
Page 9
And again:
As fickle as the billows of the sea,
Glowing no longer than the evening sky,
A woman takes your gold, then leaves you free;
You're worthless, like cosmetics, when you're dry.15
Yes, women are indeed fickle.
One man perhaps may hold her heart in trust,
She lures another with coquettish eyes,
Sports with another in unseemly lust,
Another yet her body satisfies.16
As some one has well said:
On mountain-tops no lotuses are grown;
The horse's yoke no ass will ever bear;
Rice never springs from seeds of barley sown;
A courtezan is not an honest fair.17
Accursèd Chārudatta, you shall not live! [He takes a few steps.]
[63]
P. 107.11]
Madanikā. [Seizing the hem of his garment.] O you foolish man! Your anger is so ridiculous.
Sharvilaka. Ridiculous? how so?
Madanikā. Because these jewels belong to my mistress.
Sharvilaka. And what then?
Madanikā. And she left them with that gentleman.
Sharvilaka. What for?
Madanikā. [Whispers.] That's why.
Sharvilaka. [Sheepishly.] Confound it!
The sun was hot one summer day;
I sought the shadow, there to stay:
Poor fool! the kindly branch to pay,
I stole its sheltering leaves away.18
Vasantasenā. How sorry he seems. Surely, he did this thing in ignorance.
Sharvilaka. What is to be done now, Madanikā?
Madanikā. Your own wit should tell you that.
Sharvilaka. No. For you must remember,
Nature herself gives women wit;
Men learn from books a little bit.19
Madanikā. Sharvilaka, if you will take my advice, restore the jewels to that righteous man.
Sharvilaka. But Madanikā, what if he should prosecute me?
Madanikā. No cruel heat comes from the moon.
Vasantasenā. Good, Madanikā, good!
Sharvilaka. Madanikā,
For what I did, I feel no grief nor fear:
Why tell me of this good man's virtues high?
Shame for my baseness touches me more near;
What can this king do to such rogues as I?20
[64]
Nevertheless, your suggestion is inconsistent with prudence. You must discover some other plan.
[64.16. S.
Madanikā. Yes, there is another plan.
Vasantasenā. I wonder what it will be.
Madanikā. Pretend to be a servant of that gentleman, and give the jewels to my mistress.
Sharvilaka. And what then?
Madanikā. Then you are no thief, Chārudatta has discharged his obligation, and my mistress has her jewels.
Sharvilaka. But isn't this course too reckless?
Madanikā. I tell you, give them to her. Any other course is too reckless.
Vasantasenā. Good, Madanikā, good! Spoken like a free woman.
Sharvilaka.
Risen at last is wisdom's light.
Because I followed after you;
When clouds obscure the moon by night,
'Tis hard to find a guide so true.21
Madanikā. Then you must wait here a moment in Kāma's shrine, while I tell my mistress that you have come.
Sharvilaka. I will.
Madanikā. [Approaches Vasantasenā.] Mistress, a Brahman has come from Chārudatta to see you.
Vasantasenā. But girl, how do you know that he comes from Chārudatta?
Madanikā. Should I not know my own, mistress?
Vasantasenā. [Shaking her head and smiling. Aside.] Splendid! [Aloud.] Bid him enter.
Madanikā. Yes, mistress. [Approaching Sharvilaka.] Enter, Sharvilaka.
Sharvilaka. [Approaches. With some embarrassment.] My greetings to you.[65]
P. 110.8]
Vasantasenā. I salute you, sir. Pray be seated.
Sharvilaka. The merchant sends this message: "My house is so old that it is hard to keep this casket safe. Pray take it back." [He gives it to Madanikā, and starts to leave.]
Vasantasenā. Sir, will you undertake a return commission of mine?
Sharvilaka. [Aside.] Who will carry it? [Aloud.] And this commission is—
Vasantasenā. You will be good enough to accept Madanikā.
Sharvilaka. Madam, I do not quite understand.
Vasantasenā. But I do.
Sharvilaka. How so?
Vasantasenā. Chārudatta told me that I was to give Madanikā to the man who should return these jewels. You are therefore to understand that he makes you a present of her.
Sharvilaka. [Aside.] Ah, she sees through me. [Aloud.] Good, Chārudatta, good!
On virtue only set your heart's desire;
The righteous poor attain to heights whereto
The wicked wealthy never may aspire.22
And again:
On virtue let the human heart be set;
To virtue nothing serves as check or let
The moon, attaining unattainable, is led
By virtue to her seat on Shiva's head.23
Vasantasenā. Is my driver there? [Enter a servant with a bullock-cart.]
Servant. Mistress, the cart is ready.
Vasantasenā. Madanikā girl, you must show me a happy face. You are free. Enter the bullock-cart. But do not forget me.
Madanikā. [Weeping.] My mistress drives me away. [She falls at her feet.]
Vasantasenā. You are now the one to whom honor should be[66] paid.[52] Go then, enter the cart. But do not forget me.
[66.17. S.
Sharvilaka. Heaven bless you! and you, Madanikā,
Turn upon her a happy face,
And hail with bended head the grace
That gives you now the name of wife.
As a veil to keep you safe through life.24
[He enters the bullock-cart with Madanikā, and starts away.]
A voice behind the scenes. Men! Men! We have the following orders from the chief of police: "A soothsayer has declared that a young herdsman named Aryaka is to become king. Trusting to this prophecy, and alarmed thereat, King Pālaka has taken him from his hamlet, and thrown him into strict confinement. Therefore be watchful, and every man at his post."
Sharvilaka. [Listening.] What! King Pālaka has imprisoned my good friend Aryaka? And here I am, a married man. Confound it! But no,
Two things alone—his friend, his wife—
Deserve man's love below;
A hundred brides may forfeit life
Ere he should suffer so.25
Good! I will get out [He does so.]
Madanikā. [Folding her hands. Tearfully.] My lord, if you must, at least bring me first to your parents.
Sharvilaka. Yes, my love. I will. I had the same thought in mind. [To the servant.] My good fellow, do you know the house of the merchant Rebhila?
Servant. Certainly.
Sharvilaka. Bring my wife thither.
Servant. Yes, sir.
Madanikā. If you desire it, dear. But dear, you must be very careful.[Exit.
[67]
P. 113.6]
Sharvilaka. Now as for me,
I'll rouse my kin, the kitchen cabinet.
Those high in fame by strength of good right arm,
And those who with the king's contempt have met,
And royal slaves, to save my friend from harm:
Like old Yaugandharāyana
For the good king Udayana.26
And again:
My friend has causeless been confined
By wicked foes of timid kind;
I fly, I fly to free him soon,
Like the eclipse-oppressèd moon.[Exit.] 27
Maid. [Entering.] Mistress, I congratulate you. A Brahman has come with a message from Chārudatta.
V
asantasenā. Ah, this is a joyful day. Show him every mark of respect, girl, and have him conducted hither by one of the pages.
Maid. Yes, mistress.[Exit.
* * *
[Enter Maitreya with a page.]
Maitreya. Well! Rāvana, the king of the demons, travels with his chariot that they call the "Blossom." He earned it by his penances. Now I am a Brahman, and though I never performed any penances, I travel with another sort of a blossom—a woman of the town.
Maid. Sir, will you inspect our gateway.
Maitreya. [Gazes admiringly.] It has just been sprinkled and cleaned and received a coat of green. The threshold of it is pretty as a picture with the offerings of all sorts of fragrant flowers. It stretches up its head as if it wanted to peep into the sky. It is adorned with strings of jasmine garlands that hang down and toss about like the trunk of the heavenly elephant. It shines with its high ivory portal. It is lovely with any number of holiday banners that gleam red as great rubies and wave their coquettish fingers as[68] they flutter in the breeze and seem to invite me to enter. Both sides are decorated with holiday water-jars of crystal, which are charming with their bright-green mango twigs, and are set at the foot of the pillars that sustain the portal. The doors are of gold, thickly set with diamonds as hard to pierce as a giant's breast. It actually wearies a poor devil's envy. Yes, Vasantasenā's house-door is a beautiful thing. Really, it forcibly challenges the attention of a man who doesn't care about such things.
[68.16. S.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the first court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the first court are rows of balconies brilliant as the moon, or as sea-shells, or as lotus-stalks; whitened by handfuls of powder strewn over them; gleaming with golden stairways inlaid with all sorts of gems: they seem to gaze down on Ujjayinī with their round faces, the crystal windows, from which strings of pearls are dangling. The porter sits there and snoozes as comfortably as a professor. The crows which they tempt with rice-gruel and curdled milk will not eat the offering, because they can't distinguish it from the mortar. Show me the way, madam.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the second court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the second court the cart-bullocks are tied. They grow fat on mouthfuls of grass and pulse-stalks which are brought them, right and left, by everybody. Their horns are smeared with oil. And here is another, a buffalo, snorting like a gentleman insulted. And here is a ram[53] having his neck rubbed, like a prize-fighter after the fight. And here are others, horses having their manes put in shape. And here in a stall is another, a monkey, tied fast like a thief. [He looks in another direction.] And here is an elephant, taking from his drivers a cake of rice and drippings and oil. Show me the way, madam.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the third court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the third court [69]are these seats, prepared for young gentlemen to sit on. A half-read book is lying on the gaming-table. And the table itself has its own dice, made out of gems. And here, again, are courtezans and old hangers-on at court, past masters in the war and peace of love, wandering about and holding in their fingers pictures painted in many colors. Show me the way, madam.
P. 117.4]
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the fourth court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the fourth court the drums that maiden fingers beat are booming like the thunder; the cymbals are falling, as the stars fall from heaven when their merit is exhausted;[54] the pipe is discoursing music as sweet as the humming of bees. And here, again, is a lute that somebody is holding on his lap like a girl who is excited by jealousy and love, and he is stroking it with his fingers. And here, again, are courtezan girls that sing as charmingly as honey-drunken bees, and they are made to dance and recite a drama with love in it. And water-coolers are hanging in the windows so as to catch the breeze. Show me the way, madam.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the fifth court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the fifth court the overpowering smell of asafetida and oil is attractive enough to make a poor devil's mouth water. The kitchen is kept hot all the time, and the gusts of steam, laden with all sorts of good smells, seem like sighs issuing from its mouth-like doors. The smell of the preparation of all kinds of foods and sauces makes me smack my lips. And here, again, is a butcher's boy washing a mess of chitterlings as if it were an old loin-cloth. The cook is preparing every kind of food. Sweetmeats are being constructed, cakes are being baked. [To himself.] I wonder if I am to get a chance to wash my feet and an invitation to eat what I can hold. [He looks in another direction.] There are courtezans and bastard pages, [70]adorned with any number of jewels, just like Gandharvas[55] and Apsarases.[56] Really, this house is heaven. Tell me, who are you bastards anyway?
[70.13. S.
Pages. Why, we are bastard pages—
Petted in a stranger's court.
Fed on stranger's food,
Stranger's money makes us sport—
Not so very good.
Stranger women gave us birth.
Stranger men begot;
Baby elephants in mirth,
We're a bastard lot.28
Maitreya. Show me the way, madam.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the sixth court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the sixth court they are working in gold and jewels. The arches set with sapphires look as if they were the home of the rainbow. The jewelers are testing the lapis lazuli, the pearls, the corals, the topazes, the sapphires, the cat's-eyes, the rubies, the emeralds, and all the other kinds of gems. Rubies are being set in gold. Golden ornaments are being fashioned. Pearls are being strung on a red cord. Pieces of lapis lazuli are being cleverly polished. Shells are being pierced. Corals are being ground. Wet bundles of saffron are being dried. Musk is being moistened. Sandalwood is being ground to make sandal-water. Perfumes are being compounded. Betel-leaves and camphor are being given to courtezans and their lovers. Coquettish glances are being exchanged. Laughter is going on. Wine is being drunk incessantly with sounds of glee. Here are men-servants, here are maid-servants, and here are men who forget child and wife and money. When the courtezans, who have drunk the wine from the liquor-jars, give them the mitten, they—drink. Show me the way, madam.
[71]
P. 121.5]
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the seventh court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the seventh court the mated doves are sitting comfortably in their snug dovecotes, billing and cooing and nothing else, and perfectly happy. And there is a parrot in a cage, chanting like a Brahman with a bellyful of curdled milk and rice. And here, again, is a talking thrush, chattering like a housemaid who spreads herself because somebody noticed her. A cuckoo, her throat still happy from tasting all sorts of fruit-syrups, is cooing like a procuress. Rows of cages are hanging from pegs. Quails are being egged on to fight. Partridges are being made to talk. Caged pigeons are being provoked. A tame peacock that looks as if he was adorned with all sorts of gems is dancing happily about, and as he flaps his wings, he seems to be fanning the roof which is distressed by the rays of the sun. [He looks in another direction.] Here are pairs of flamingos like moonbeams rolled into a ball, that wander about after pretty girls, as if they wanted to learn how to walk gracefully. And here, again, are tame cranes, walking around like ancient eunuchs. Well, well! This courtezan keeps a regular menagerie of birds. Really, the courtezan's house seems to me like Indra's heaven. Show me the way, madam.
Maid. Come, sir, and enter the eighth court.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Madam, who is this in the silk cloak, adorned with such astonishingly tautologous ornaments, who wanders about, stumbling and stretching his limbs?
Maid. Sir, this is my mistress' brother.
Maitreya. What sort of ascetic exercises does a man have to perform, in order to be born as Vasantasenā's brother? But no,
He may be shiny, may be greasy,
And perfumed may he be.
And yet I warn you to go easy;
He's a graveyard champak-tree.29
[72]
[He looks in another direction.] But madam, who is that in the expansive garment, sitting on the throne? She has shoes on her greasy feet.
[72.9. S.
Maid. Sir, that is my mistress' mother.
Maitreya. Lord! What an extensive belly the dirty old witch has got! I suppose they couldn't put that superb portal on the house till after they had brought the idol in?
Maid. Rascal! You must not make fun of our mother so. She is pining away under a quartan ague.
Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] O thou blessèd quartan ague! Look thou upon a Brahman, even upon me, with this thy favor!
Maid. Rascal! May death strike you.
Maitreya. [Bursts out laughing.] Why, wench, a pot-belly like that is better dead.
Drinking brandy, rum, and wine,
Mother fell extremely ill.
If mother now should peak and pine,
A jackal-pack would have its fill.30
Well, I have seen Vasantasenā's palace with its many incidents and its eight courts, and really, it seems as if I had seen the triple heaven in a nut-shell. I haven't the eloquence to praise it. Is this the house of a courtezan, or a piece of Kubera's[57] palace? Where's your mistress?
Maid. She is here in the orchard. Enter, sir.
Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! What a beautiful orchard! There are any number of trees planted here, and they are covered with the most wonderful flowers. Silken swings are hung under the thick-set trees, just big enough for a girl to sit in. The golden jasmine, the shephālikā, the white jasmine, the jessamine, the navamallikā, the amaranth, the spring creeper, and all the other flowers have fallen of themselves, and really, it makes Indra's heaven [73]look dingy. [He looks in another direction.] And the pond here looks like the morning twilight, for the lilies and red lotuses are as splendid as the rising sun. And again: