Of "Rain! Rain! Rain!"—grim summons to the tomb
For her who spends her lonely hours in gloom—
Strew salt upon the wound?18
Courtier. Very true, Vasantasenā. And yet again:
It seems as if the sky would take the guise
Of some fierce elephant to service bred;
The lightning like a waving streamer flies,
And white cranes serve to deck his mighty head.19
Vasantasenā. But look, sir, look!
Clouds, black as wet tamāla-leaves, the ball
Of heaven hide from our sight;
Rain-smitten homes of ants decay and fall
Like beasts that arrows smite;
Like golden lamps within a lordly hall
Wander the lightnings bright;
As when men steal the wife of some base thrall,
Clouds rob the moon of light.20
Courtier. See, Vasantasenā, see!
Clouds, harnessed in the lightning's gleams,
Like charging elephants dash by;
At Indra's bidding, pour their streams,
Until with silver cords it seems
That earth is linked with sky.21
[84]
[84.14. S.
And look yonder!
As herds of buffaloes the clouds are black;
The winds deny them ease;
They fly on lightning wings and little lack
Of seeming troubled seas.
Smitten with falling drops, the fragrant sod,
Upon whose bosom greenest grasses nod,
Seems pierced with pearls, each pearl an arrowy rod.22
Vasantasenā. And here is yet another cloud.
The peacock's shrill-voiced cry
Implores it to draw nigh;
And ardent cranes on high
Embrace it lovingly.
The wistful swans espy
The lotus-sweeter sky;
The darkest colors lie
On heaven clingingly.23
Courtier. True. For see!
A thousand lotuses that bloom by night,
A thousand blooming when the day is bright,
Nor close nor ope their eyes to heaven's sight;
There is no night nor day.
The face of heaven, thus shrouded in the night,
Is only for a single instant bright,
When momentary lightning gives us sight;
Else is it dark alway.
Now sleeps the world as still as in the night
Within the house of rain where naught is bright,
[85]Where hosts of swollen clouds seem to our sight
One covering veil of gray.24
P. 143.20]
Vasantasenā. True. And see!
The stars are lost like mercies given
To men of evil heart;
Like lonely-parted wives, the heaven
Sees all her charms depart.
And, molten in the cruel heat
Of Indra's bolt, it seems
As if the sky fell at our feet
In liquid, flowing streams.25
And yet again:
The clouds first darkly rise, then darkly fall,
Send forth their floods of rain, and thunder all;
Assuming postures strange and manifold,
Like men but newly blest with wealth untold.26
Courtier. True.
The heaven is radiant with the lightning's glare;
Its laughter is the cry of myriad cranes;
Its voice, the bolts that whistle through the air;
Its dance, that bow whose arrows are the rains.
It staggers at the winds, and seems to smoke
With clouds, which form its black and snaky cloak.27
Vasantasenā. O shameless, shameless sky!
To thunder thus, while I
To him I love draw nigh.
Why do thy thunders frighten me and pain?
Why am I seized upon by hands of rain?28
O Indra, mighty Indra!
Did I then give thee of my love before,
That now thy clouds like mighty lions roar?
Ah no! Thou shouldst not send thy streaming rain,
To fill my journey to my love with pain.29
[86]
[83.23. S.
Remember:
For Ahalyā's sweet sake thou once didst lie;
Thou knowest lover's pain.
As thou didst suffer then, now suffer I;
O cruel, cease thy rain.30
And yet:
Thunder and rain and lighten hundredfold
Forth from thy sky above;
The woman canst thou not delay nor hold
Who journeys to her love.31
Let thunders roar, for men were cruel ever;
But oh, thou maiden lightning! didst thou never
Know pains that maidens know?32
Courtier. But mistress, do not scold the lightning. She is your friend,
This golden cord that trembles on the breast
Of great Airāvata;[67] upon the crest
Of rocky hills this banner all ablaze;
This lamp in Indra's palace; but most blest
As telling where your most beloved stays.33
Vasantasenā. And here, sir, is his house.
Courtier. You know all the arts, and need no instruction now. Yet love bids me prattle. When you enter here, you must not show yourself too angry.
Where anger is, there love is not;
Or no! except for anger hot,
There is no love.
Be angry! make him angry then!
Be kind! and make him kind again—
The man you love.34
[87]
P. 145.17]
So much for that. Who is there? Let Chārudatta know, that
While clouds look beautiful, and in the hour
Fragrant with nīpa and kadamba flower,
She comes to see her lover, very wet.
With dripping locks, but pleased and loving yet.
Though lightning and though thunder terrifies,
She comes to see you; 't is for you she sighs.
The mud still soils the anklets on her feet,
But in a moment she will have them sweet.35
Chārudatta. [Listening.] My friend, pray discover what this means.
Maitreya. Yes, sir. [He approaches Vasantasenā. Respectfully.] Heaven bless you!
Vasantasenā. I salute you, sir. I am very glad to see you. [To the courtier.] Sir, the maid with the umbrella is at your service.
Courtier. [Aside.] A very clever way to get rid of me. [Aloud.] Thank you. And mistress Vasantasenā,
Pride and tricks and lies and fraud
Are in your face;
False playground of the lustful god,
Such is your face;
The wench's stock in trade, in fine,
Epitome of joys divine,
I mean, your face—
For sale! the price is courtesy.
I trust you'll find a man to buy
Your face.[Exit.] 36
Vasantasenā. Good Maitreya, where is your gambler?
Maitreya. [Aside.] "Gambler"? Ah, she's paying a compliment to my friend. [Aloud.] Madam, here he is in the dry orchard.
Vasantasenā. But sir, what do you call a dry orchard?
Maitreya. Madam, it's a place where there's nothing to eat or drink, [Vasantasenā smiles.] Pray enter, madam.
Vasantasenā. [Aside to her maid.] What shall I say when I enter?[88]
[87.17. S.
Maid. "Gambler, what luck this evening?"
Vasantasenā. Shall I dare to say it?
Maid. When the time comes, it will say itself.
Maitreya. Enter, madam.
Vasantasenā. [Enters, approaches Chārudatta, and strikes him with the flowers which she holds.] Well, gambler, what luck this evening?
Chārudatta. [Discovers her.] Ah, Vasantasenā is here. [He rises joyfully.] Oh,
my belovèd,
My evenings pass in watching ever,
My nights from sighs are never free;
This evening cannot else than sever—
In bringing you—my grief and me.37
You are very, very welcome. Here is a seat. Pray be seated.
Maitreya. Here is a seat. Be seated, madam. [Vasantasenā sits, then the others.]
Chārudatta. But see, my friend,
The dripping flower that decks her ear, droops down,
And one sweet breast
Anointed is, like a prince who wears the crown,
With ointment blest.38
My friend, Vasantasenā's garments are wet. Let other, and most beautiful, garments be brought.
Maitreya. Yes, sir.
Maid. Good Maitreya, do you stay here. I will wait upon my mistress. [She does so.]
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] My friend, I'd just like to ask the lady a question.
Chārudatta. Then do so.
Maitreya. [Aloud.] Madam, what made you come here, when it is so stormy and dark that you can't see the moon?
Maid. Mistress, the Brahman is very plain-spoken.[89]
P. 148.17]
Vasantasenā. You might better call him clever.
Maid. My mistress came to ask how much that pearl necklace is worth.
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] There! I told you so. She thinks the pearl necklace is cheap, and the golden casket is expensive. She isn't satisfied. She has come to look for something more.
Maid. For my mistress imagined that it was her own, and gambled it away. And nobody knows where the gambling-master has gone, for he is employed in the king's business.
Maitreya. Madam, you are simply repeating what somebody said before.
Maid. While we are looking for him, pray take this golden casket. [She displays the casket. Maitreya hesitates.] Sir, you examine it very closely. Did you ever see it before?
Maitreya. No, madam, but the skilful workmanship captivates the eye.
Maid. Your eyes deceive you, sir. This is the golden casket.
Maitreya. [Joyfully.] Well, my friend, here is the golden casket, the very one that thieves stole from our house.
Chārudatta. My friend,
The artifice we tried before,
Her stolen treasure to restore,
Is practised now on us. But no,
I cannot think 't is really so.39
Maitreya. But it is so. I swear it on my Brahmanhood.
Chārudatta. This is welcome news.
Maitreya. [Aside to Chārudatta.] I'm going to ask where they found it.
Chārudatta. I see no harm in that.
Maitreya. [Whispers in the maid's ear.] There!
Maid. [Whispers in Maitreya's ear.] So there![90]
[89.19. S.
Chārudatta. What is it? and why are we left out?
Maitreya. [Whispers in Chārudatta's ear.] So there!
Chārudatta. My good girl, is this really the same golden casket?
Maid. Yes, sir, the very same.
Chārudatta. My good girl, I have never let the bearer of welcome news go unrewarded. Take this ring as your recompense. [He looks at his finger, notices that the ring is gone, and betrays his embarrassment.]
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] I love you for that.
Chārudatta. [Aside to Maitreya.] Alas,
When in this world a man has lost his all,
Why should he set his heart on longer life?
His angers and his favors fruitless fall,
His purposes and powers are all at strife.40
Like wingless birds, dry pools, or withered trees,
Like fangless snakes—the poor are like to these.41
Like man-deserted houses, blasted trees,
Like empty wells—the poor are like to these.
For them no pleasant hours serve happy ends;
They are forgotten of their sometime friends.42
Maitreya. But you must not grieve thus beyond reason. [He bursts out laughing. Aloud.] Madam, please give me back my bath-clout.
Vasantasenā. Chārudatta, it was not right that you should show your distrust of me by sending me this pearl necklace.
Chārudatta. [With an embarrassed smile.] But remember, Vasantasenā,
Who will believe the truth?
Suspicion now is sure.
This world will show no ruth
To the inglorious poor.43
[91]
P. 152.4]
Maitreya. Tell me, girl, are you going to sleep here to-night?
Maid. [Laughing.] But good Maitreya, you show yourself most remarkably plain-spoken now.
Maitreya. See, my friend, the rain enters again in great streams, as if it wanted to drive people away when they are sitting comfortably together.
Chārudatta. You are quite right.
The falling waters pierce the cloud,
As lotus-shoots the soil;
And tears the face of heaven shroud,
Who weeps the moon's vain toil.44
And again:
In streams as pure as thoughts to good men given,
But merciless as darts that Arjun hurls,
And black as Baladeva's cloak, the heaven
Seems to pour out all Indra's hoarded pearls.45
See, my belovèd, see!
The heaven is painted with the blackest dye,
And fanned by cool and fragrant evening airs;
Red lightning, glad in union, clasps the sky
With voluntary arms, and shows on high
The love that maiden heart to lover bears.46
[Vasantasenā betrays her passion, and throws her arms about Chārudatta. Chārudatta feels her touch, and embraces her.]
Chārudatta.
More grimly yet, O thunder, boom;
For by thy grace and power
My love-distracted limbs now bloom
Like the kadamba flower.
Her dear touch all my being thrills,
And love my inmost spirit fills.47
Maitreya. Confound you, storm! You are no gentleman, to frighten the lady with the lightning.[92]
[91.20. S.
Chārudatta.Do not rebuke the storm, my friend.
Let ceaseless rain a hundred years endure,
The lightning quiver, and the thunder peal;
For what I deemed impossible is sure:
Her dear-loved arms about my neck I feel.48
And oh, my friend,
He only knows what riches are,
Whose love comes to him from afar,
Whose arms that dearest form enfold,
While yet with rain 't is wet and cold.49
Vasantasenā, my belovèd,
The masonry is shaken; and so old
The awning, that 't will not much longer hold.
Heavy with water is the painted wall,
From which dissolving bits of mortar fall.50
[He looks up.] The rainbow! See, my belovèd, see!
See how they yawn, the cloudy jaws of heaven,
As by a tongue, by forkèd lightning riven;
And to the sky great Indra's fiery bow
In lieu of high-uplifted arms is given.51
Come, let us seek a shelter. [He rises and walks about.]
On palm-trees shrill,
On thickets still,
On boulders dashing,
On waters splashing,
Like a lute that, smitten, sings,
The rainy music rings.52
[Exeunt omnes.
FOOTNOTES:
[60] In Indian love poetry, the rainy season is the time when lovers most ardently long to be united.
[61] In allusion to Vishnu's name, Krishna, "black."
[62] A gesture of respect.
[63] The goddess of wealth and beauty, usually represented with a lotus.
[64] Kāma's (Cupid's) arrows are flowers.
[65] Throughout this scene, Vasantasenā's verses are in Sanskrit. Compare note 1 on
page 73.
[66] The cry of the heron resembles the Sanskrit word for "rain." Indian love-poetry often paints the sorrow, even unto death, of her whose beloved does not return before the rainy season.
[67] The elephant of Indra. Indra is the god of the thunderstorm.
* * *
[93]
ACT THE SIXTH
THE SWAPPING OF THE BULLOCK-CARTS
[Enter a maid.]
Maid.
Isn't my mistress awake yet? Well, I must go in and wake her. [She walks about. Vasantasenā appears, dressed, but still asleep. The maid discovers her.] It is time to get up, mistress. The morning is here.
Vasantasenā. [Awakening.] What! is the night over? is it morning?
Maid. For us it is morning. But for my mistress it appears to be night still.
Vasantasenā. But girl, where is your gambler?
Maid. Mistress, after giving Vardhamānaka his orders, Chārudatta went to the old garden Pushpakaranda.
Vasantasenā. What orders?
Maid. To have the bullock-cart ready before daylight; for, he said, Vasantasenā was to come—
Vasantasenā. Where, girl?
Maid. Where Chārudatta is.
Vasantasenā. [Embraces the maid.] I did not have a good look at him in the evening. But to-day I shall see him face to face. Tell me, girl. Have I found my way into the inner court?
Maid. You have found your way not only into the inner court, but into the heart of every one who lives here.
The Little Clay Cart Page 11