The Little Clay Cart
Page 14
Sansthānaka. [Hearing the sound of wheels.] The cart is here, shir.
Courtier. How do you know?
Sansthānaka. Can't you shee? It shqueaks like an old hog.
Courtier. [Perceives the cart.] Quite true. It is here.
Sansthānaka. Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, are you here?
Sthāvaraka. Yes, sir.
Sansthānaka. Is the cart here?[115]
P. 194.9]
Sthāvaraka. Yes, sir.
Sansthānaka. Are the bullocks here?
Sthāvaraka. Yes, sir.
Sansthānaka. And are you here?
Sthāvaraka. [Laughing.] Yes, master, I am here too.
Sansthānaka. Then drive the cart in.
Sthāvaraka. By which road?
Sansthānaka. Right here, where the wall is tumbling down.
Sthāvaraka. Oh, master, the bullocks will be killed. The cart will go to pieces. And I, your servant, shall be killed.
Sansthānaka. I'm the king's brother-in-law, man. If the bullocks are killed, I 'll buy shome more. If the cart goes to pieces, I 'll have another one made. If you are killed, there will be another driver.
Sthāvaraka. Everything will be replaced—except me.
Sansthānaka. Let the whole thing go to pieces. Drive in over the wall.
Sthāvaraka. Then break, cart, break with your driver. There will be another cart. I must go and present myself to my master. [He drives in.] What! not broken? Master, here is your cart.
Sansthānaka. The bullocks not shplit in two? and the ropes not killed? and you too not killed?
Sthāvaraka. No, sir.
Sansthānaka. Come, shir. Let's look at the cart. You are my teacher, shir, my very besht teacher. You are a man I reshpect, my intimate friend, a man I delight to honor. Do you enter the cart firsht.
Courtier. Very well. [He starts to do so.]
Sansthānaka. Not much! Shtop! Is thish your father's cart, that you should enter it firsht? I own thish cart. I 'll enter it firsht.
Courtier. I only did what you said.[116]
[119.8. S.
Sansthānaka. Even if I do shay sho, you ought to be polite enough to shay "After you, mashter."
Courtier. After you, then.
Sansthānaka. Now I 'll enter. Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, turn the cart around.
Sthāvaraka. [Does so.] Enter, master.
Sansthānaka. [Enters and looks about, then hastily gets out in terror, and falls on the courtier's neck.] Oh, oh, oh! You're a dead man! There's a witch, or a thief, that's sitting and living in my bullock-cart. If it's a witch, we 'll both be robbed. If it's a thief, we 'll both be eaten alive.
Courtier. Don't be frightened. How could a witch travel in a bullock-cart? I hope that the heat of the midday sun has not blinded you, so that you became the victim of an hallucination when you saw the shadow of Sthāvaraka with the smock on it.
Sansthānaka. Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, are you alive?
Sthāvaraka. Yes, sir.
Sansthānaka. But shir, there's a woman sitting and living in the bullock-cart. Look and shee!
Courtier. A woman?
Then let us bow our heads at once and go,
Like steers whose eyes the falling raindrops daze;
In public spots my dignity I show;
On high-born dames I hesitate to gaze.15
Vasantasenā. [In amazement. Aside.] Oh, oh! It is that thorn in my eye, the king's brother-in-law. Alas! the danger is great. Poor woman! My coming hither proves as fruitless as the sowing of a handful of seeds on salty soil. What shall I do now?
Sansthānaka. Thish old shervant is afraid and he won't look into the cart. Will you look into the cart, shir?
Courtier. I see no harm in that. Yes, I will do it.[117]
P. 198.12]
Sansthānaka. Are those things jackals that I shee flying into the air, and are those things crows that walk on all fours? While the witch is chewing him with her eyes, and looking at him with her teeth, I 'll make my eshcape.
Courtier. [Perceives Vasantasenā. Sadly to himself.] Is it possible? The gazelle follows the tiger. Alas!
Her mate is lovely as the autumn moon,
Who waits for her upon the sandy dune;
And yet the swan will leave him? and will go
To dance attendance on a common crow?16
[Aside to Vasantasenā.] Ah, Vasantasenā! This is neither right, nor worthy of you.
Your pride rejected him before,
Yet now for gold, and for your mother's will
Vasantasenā. No! [She shakes her head.]
Courtier.
Your nature knows your pride no more;
You honor him, a common woman still.17
Did I not tell[79] you to "serve the man you love, and him you hate"?
Vasantasenā. I made a mistake in the cart, and thus I came hither. I throw myself upon your protection.
Courtier. Do not fear. Come, I must deceive him. [He returns to Sansthānaka.] Jackass, there is indeed a witch who makes her home in the cart.
Sansthānaka. But shir, if a witch is living there, why are n't you robbed? And if it 's a thief, why are n't you eaten alive?
Courtier. Why try to determine that? But if we should go back on foot through the gardens until we came to the city, to Ujjayinī, what harm would that do?
Sansthānaka. And if we did, what then?
[118]
[121.7. S.
Courtier. Then we should have some exercise, and should avoid tiring the bullocks.
Sansthānaka. All right. Sthāvaraka, my shlave, drive on. But no! Shtop, shtop! I go on foot before gods and Brahmans? Not much! I 'll go in my cart, sho that people shall shee me a long way off, and shay "There he goes, our mashter, the king's brother-in-law."
Courtier. [Aside.] It is hard to convert poison into medicine. So be it, then. [Aloud.] Jackass, this is Vasantasenā, come to visit you.
Vasantasenā. Heaven forbid!
Sansthānaka. [Gleefully.] Oh, oh! To visit me, an arishtocrat, a man, a regular Vāsudeva?
Courtier. Yes.
Sansthānaka. This is an unheard-of piece of luck. That other time I made her angry, sho now I 'll fall at her feet and beg her pardon.
Courtier. Capital!
Sansthānaka. I 'll fall at her feet myshelf. [He approaches Vasantasenā.] Little mother, mamma dear, lishten to my prayer.
I fold my hands and fall before thy feet—
Thine eyes are large, thy teeth are clean and neat,
Thy finger-nails are ten—forgive thy shlave
What, love-tormented, he offended, shweet.18
Vasantasenā. [Angrily.] Leave me! Your words are an insult! [She spurns him with her foot.]
Sansthānaka. [Wrathfully.]
Thish head that mother and that mamma kissed,
That never bent to worship god, I wist,
Upon thish head she dared to plant her feet,
Like jackals on the carrion they meet.19
Sthāvaraka, you shlave, where did you pick her up?
Sthāvaraka. Master, the highway was blocked by villagers' wagons. So I stopped my cart near Chārudatta's orchard, and got out. And[119] while I was helping a villager with his wagon, I suppose she mistook this cart for another, and climbed in.
P. 201.14]
Sansthānaka. Oho! she mishtook my cart for another? and did n't come to shee me? Get out of my cart, get out! You 're going to visit your poor merchant's shon, are you? Those are my bullocks you 're driving. Get out, get out, you shlave! Get out, get out!
Vasantasenā. Truly, you honor me when you say that I came to see Chārudatta. Now what must be, must be.
Sansthānaka.
These hands of mine, ten-finger-naily,
These hands sho lotush-leafy,
Are itching-anxious, girl, to dally
With you; and in a jiffy
I 'll drag Your Shweetness by the hair
From the cart wherein you
ride,
As did Jatāyu Bāli's fair,
The monkey Bāli's bride.20
Courtier.
So virtuous ladies may not be
Insulted thus despitefully;
Nor garden creepers may not be
Robbed of their leaves so cruelly.21
Stand up, man. I will help her to alight. Come, Vasantasenā! [Vasantasenā alights and stands apart.]
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The flame of wrath was kindled when she despised my proposition, and now it blazes up because she kicked me. Sho now I 'll murder her. Good! Thish way. [Aloud.] Well, shir, what do you want?
A cloak with fringes hanging down and all,
Tied with a hundred shtrings? or good ragout,
To make you shmack your greedy lips and call
"Chuhoo, chuhoo, chukku, chuhoo, chuhooo"?22
Courtier. Well?
Sansthānaka. Do me a favor.[120]
[123.11. S.
Courtier. Certainly. Anything, unless it be a sin.
Sansthānaka. There's not a shmell of a shin in it, shir. Not a perfume!
Courtier. Speak, then.
Sansthānaka. Murder Vasantasenā.
Courtier. [Stopping his ears.]
A tender lady, gem of this our city,
A courtezan whose love was stainless ever—
If I should kill her, sinless, without pity.
What boat would bear me on the gloomy river?23
Sansthānaka. I'll give you a boat. And beshides, in thish deserted garden, who'll shee you murdering her?
Courtier.
The regions ten,[80] the forest gods, the sky,
The wind, the moon, the sun whose rays are light,
Virtue, my conscience—these I cannot fly,
Nor earth, that witnesses to wrong and right.24
Sansthānaka. Well then, put your cloak over her and murder her.
Courtier. You fool! You scoundrel!
Sansthānaka. The old hog is afraid of a shin. Never mind. I'll pershuade Sthāvaraka, my shlave. Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, I'll give you golden bracelets.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll wear them.
Sansthānaka. I'll have a golden sheat made for you.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll sit on it.
Sansthānaka. I'll give you all my leavings.
Sthāvaraka. And I'll eat them.
Sansthānaka. I'll make you the chief of all my shervants.
Sthāvaraka. Master, I'll be the chief.
Sansthānaka. You only have to attend to what I shay.
Sthāvaraka. Master, I will do anything, unless it be a sin.
[121]
P. 205.12]
Sansthānaka. There's not a shmell of a shin in it.
Sthāvaraka. Then speak, master.
Sansthānaka. Murder Vasantasenā.
Sthāvaraka. Oh, master, be merciful! Unworthy as I am, I brought this worthy lady hither, because she mistook this bullock-cart for another.
Sansthānaka. You shlave, ain't I your mashter?
Sthāvaraka. Master of my body, not of my character. Be merciful, master, be merciful! I am afraid.
Sansthānaka. You're my shlave. Who are you afraid of?
Sthāvaraka. Of the other world, master.
Sansthānaka. Who is thish "other world"?
Sthāvaraka. Master, it is a rewarder of righteousness and sin.
Sansthānaka. What is the reward of righteoushness?
Sthāvaraka. To be like my master, with plenty of golden ornaments.
Sansthānaka. What is the reward of shin?
Sthāvaraka. To be like me, eating another man's bread. That is why I will do no sin.
Sansthānaka. Sho you won't murder her? [He beats him with all his might.]
Sthāvaraka. You may beat me, master. You may kill me, master. I will do no sin.
A luckless, lifelong slave am I,
A slave I live, a slave I die;
But further woe I will not buy,
I will not, will not sin.25
Vasantasenā. Sir, I throw myself upon your protection.
Courtier. Pardon him, jackass! Well done, Sthāvaraka!
Does this poor, miserable slave
Seek virtue's meed beyond the grave?
[122]And is his lord indifferent?
Then why are not such creatures sent
To instant hell, whose sinful store
Grows great, who know not virtue more?26
[125.14. S.
And again:
Ah, cruel, cruel is our fate,
And enters through the straitest gate;
Since he is slave, and you are lord,
Since he does not enjoy your hoard,
Since you do not obey his word.27
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] The old jackal is afraid of a shin, and the "lifelong shlave" is afraid of the other world. Who am I afraid of, I, the king's brother-in-law, an arishtocrat, a man? [Aloud.] Well, shervant, you "lifelong shlave," you can go. Go to your room and resht and keep out of my way.
Sthāvaraka. Yes, master. [To Vasantasenā.] Madam, I have no further power.[Exit.
Sansthānaka. [Girds up his loins.] Wait a minute, Vasantasenā, wait a minute. I want to murder you.
Courtier. You will kill her before my eyes? [He seizes him by the throat.]
Sansthānaka. [Falls to the ground.] Shir, you 're murdering your mashter. [He loses consciousness, but recovers.]
I always fed him fat with meat,
And gave him butter too, to eat;
Now for the friend in need I search;
Why does he leave me in the lurch?28
[After reflection.] Good! I have an idea. The old jackal gave her a hint by shaking his head at her. Sho I 'll shend him away, and then I 'll murder Vasantasenā. That's the idea. [Aloud.] Shir, I was born in a noble family as great as a wine-glass. How could I do that shin I shpoke about? I jusht shaid it to make her love me.[123]
P. 209.3]
Courtier. Why should you boast of this your noble birth?
'T is character that makes the man of worth;
But thorns and weeds grow rank in fertile earth.29
Sansthānaka. She 's ashamed to confessh her love when you 're here. Please go. My shervant Sthāvaraka has gone too after getting a beating. He may be running away. Catch him, shir, and come back with him.
Courtier. [Aside.]
Vasantasenā is too proud to own.
While I am near, her love for one so crude;
So now I leave her here with him alone;
Love's confidences long for solitude.30
[Aloud.] Very well. I go.
Vasantasenā. [Seizing the hem of his garment.] Did I not throw myself upon your protection?
Courtier. Do not fear, Vasantasenā. Jackass, Vasantasenā is a pledge, committed to your hand.
Sansthānaka. All right. Jusht let her be committed to my hand. It 's a pledge that I 'll execute.
Courtier. Are you honest?
Sansthānaka. Honesht.
Courtier. [Takes a few steps.] No! If I go, the wretch might kill her. I will conceal myself for a moment, and see what he intends to do. [He stands apart.]
Sansthānaka. Good! I 'll murder her. But no! Perhaps thish tricky trickshter, thish Brahman, thish old jackal, has gone and hidden himshelf; he might raise a howl like the jackal he is. I 'll jusht do thish to deceive him. [He gathers flowers and adorns himself.] Vasantasenā, my love, my love! Come!
Courtier. Yes, he has turned lover. Good! I am content. I will go.[Exit.
[124]
[127.12. S.
Sansthānaka.
I 'll give you gold, I 'll call you shweet;
My turbaned head adores your feet.
Why not love me, my clean-toothed girl?
Why worship such a pauper churl?31
Vasantasenā. How can you ask? [She bows her head and recites the following verses.]
O base and vile! O wretch! What more?
Why tempt me now with gold
and power?
The honey-loving bees adore
The pure and stainless lotus flower.32
Though poverty may strike a good man low,
Peculiar honor waits upon his woe;
And 't is the glory of a courtezan
To set her love upon an honest man.33
And I, who have loved the mango-tree, I cannot cling to the locust-tree.
Sansthānaka. Wench, you make that poor little Chārudatta into a mango-tree, and me you call a locusht-tree, not even an acacia! That 's the way you abuse me, and even yet you remember Chārudatta.
Vasantasenā. Why should I not remember him who dwells in my heart?
Sansthānaka. Thish very minute I 'm going to shtrangle "him who dwells in your heart," and you too. Shtand shtill, you poor-merchant-man's lover!
Vasantasenā. Oh speak, oh speak again these words that do me honor!
Sansthānaka. Jusht let poor Chārudatta—the shon of a shlave—reshcue you now!
Vasantasenā. He would rescue me, if he saw me.
Sansthānaka.
Is he the king of gods? the royal ape?
Shon of a nymph? or wears a demon's shape?
[125]The kingly deity of wind and rain?
The offshpring of the Pāndu-princes' bane?
A prophet? or a vulture known afar?
A shtatesman? or a beetle? or a shtar?34
P. 212.11]
But even if he was, he could n't reshcue you.
As Sītā in the Bhārata
Was killed by good old Chānakya,
Sho I intend to throttle thee,
As did Jatāyu Draupadī.35
[He raises his arm to strike her.]
Vasantasenā. Mother! where are you? Oh, Chārudatta! my heart's longing is unfulfilled, and now I die! I will scream for help. No! It would bring shame on Vasantasenā, should she scream for help. Heaven bless Chārudatta!