But friends prove faithless when good fortune ends.16
Headsmen. They are out of the way. The street is cleared. Lead on the condemned criminal.
Chārudatta. [Sighing.]
My friend Maitreya! Oh, this cruel blow!
My wife, thou issue of a spotless strain!
My Rohasena! Here am I, laid low
By sternest fate; and thou, thou dost not know
That all thy childish games are played in vain.
Thou playest, heedless of another's pain!(ix. 29)
* * *
Voices behind the scenes. My father! Oh, my friend!
Chārudatta. [Listens. Mournfully.] You are a leader in your own caste. I would beg a favor at your hands.
Headsmen. From our hands you would receive a favor?
Chārudatta. Heaven forbid! Yet a headsman is neither so wanton nor so cruel as King Pālaka. That I may be happy in the other world, I ask to see the face of my son.
Headsmen. So be it.
A voice behind the scenes. My father! oh, my father! [Chārudatta hears the words, and mournfully repeats his request.]
Headsmen. Citizens, make way a moment. Let the noble Chārudatta look upon the face of his son. [Turning to the back of the stage.] This way, sir! Come on, little boy![157]
P. 261.15]
[Enter Maitreya, with Rohasena.]
Maitreya. Make haste, my boy, make haste! Your father is being led to his death.
Rohasena. My father! oh, my father!
Maitreya. Oh, my friend! Where must I behold you now?
Chārudatta. [Perceives his son and his friend.] Alas, my son! Alas, Maitreya! [Mournfully.] Ah, woe is me!
Long, too long, shall I thirst in vain
Through all my sojourn dread;
This vessel[86] small will not contain
The water for the dead.17
What may I give my son? [He looks at himself, and perceives the sacrificial cord.] Ah, this at least is mine.
The precious cord that Brahmans hold
Is unadorned with pearls and gold;
Yet, girt therewith, they sacrifice
To gods above and fathers[87] old.18
[He gives Rohasena the cord.]
Goha. Come, Chārudatta! Come, man!
Ahīnta. Man, do you name the noble Chārudatta's name, and forget the title? Remember:
In happy hours, in death, by night, by day,
Roving as free as a yet unbroken colt,
Fate wanders on her unrestricted way.19
And again:
Life will depart his body soon;
Shall our reproaches bow his head?
Although eclipse may seize the moon,
We worship while it seems but dead.20
Rohasena. Oh, headsmen, where are you leading my father?
[158]
[161.10. S.
Chārudatta. My darling,
About my neck I needs must wear
The oleander-wreath;
Upon my shoulder I must bear
The stake, and in my heart the care
Of near-approaching death.
I go to-day to meet a dastard's ending,
A victim, at the fatal altar bending.21
Goha. My boy,
Not we the headsmen are,
Though born of headsman race;
Thy father's life who mar,
These, these are headsmen base.22
Rohasena. Then why do you murder my father?
Goha. Bless you, 't is the king's orders must bear the blame, not we.
Rohasena. Kill me, and let father go free.
Goha. Bless you, may you live long for saying that!
Chārudatta. [Tearfully embracing his son.]
This treasure—love—this taste of heaven,
To rich and poor alike is given;
Than sandal better, or than balm,
To soothe the heart and give it calm.23
About my neck I needs must wear
The oleander-wreath,
Upon my shoulder I must bear
The stake, and in my heart the care
Of near-approaching death.
I go to-day to meet a dastard's ending,
A victim, at the fatal altar bending.(21)
[He looks about. Aside.]
Their faces with their garments' hem now hiding,
They stand afar, whom once I counted friends:
[159]Even foes have smiles(16)
P. 264.7]
Maitreya. My good men, let my dear friend Chārudatta go free, and kill me instead.
Chārudatta. Heaven forbid! [He looks about. Aside.] Now I understand.
for men with Fortune biding;
But friends prove faithless when good fortune ends.(16)
[Aloud.]
These women, in their palaces who stay,
From half-shut windows peering, thus lament,
"Alas for Chārudatta! Woe the day!"
And pity-streaming eyes on me are bent.(11)
Goha.
Out of the way, gentlemen, out of the way!
Why gaze upon the good man so,
When shame his living hope lays low?
The cord was broken at the well,
And down the golden pitcher fell.24
Chārudatta. [Mournfully.]
From thy dear lips, that vied with coral's red,
Betraying teeth more bright than moonbeams fair,
My soul with heaven's nectar once was fed.
How can I, helpless, taste that poison dread,
To drink shame's poisoned cup how can I bear?(13)
Ahīnta. Proclaim the sentence again, man.[Goha does so.]
Chārud.
So lowly fallen! till shame my virtues blur,
Till such an ending seem not loss, but gain!
Yet o'er my heart there creeps a saddening pain,
To hear them cry abroad "You murdered her!"25
[162.18. S.
[Enter Sthāvaraka, fettered, in the palace tower.]
Sthāvaraka. [After listening to the proclamation. In distress.] What! the innocent Chārudatta is being put to death? And my master has thrown me into chains! Well, I must shout to them.—Listen, good gentlemen, listen! It was I, wretch that I am, who[160] carried Vasantasenā to the old garden Pushpakaranda, because she mistook my bullock-cart for another. And then my master, Sansthānaka, found that she would not love him, and it was he, not this gentleman, who murdered her by strangling.—But they are so far away that no one hears me. What shall I do? Shall I cast myself down? [He reflects.] If I do, then the noble Chārudatta will not be put to death. Yes, through this broken window I will throw myself down from the palace tower. Better that I should meet my end, than that the noble Chārudatta should perish, this tree of life for noble youths. And if I die in such a cause, I have attained heaven. [He throws himself down.] Wonderful! I did not meet my end, and my fetters are broken. So I will follow the sound of the headsmen's voices. [He discovers the headsmen, and hastens forward.] Headsmen, headsmen, make way!
Headsmen. For whom shall we make way?
Sthāvaraka. Listen, good gentlemen, listen! It was I, wretch that I am, who carried Vasantasenā to the old garden Pushpakaranda, because she mistook my bullock-cart for another. And then my master, Sansthānaka, found that she would not love him, and it was he, not this gentleman, who murdered her by strangling.
Chārudatta. Thank heaven!
But who thus gladdens this my latest morn,
When in Time's snare I struggle all forlorn,
A streaming cloud above the rainless corn?26
Listen! do you hear what I say?
Death have I never feared, but blackened fame;
My death were welcome, coming free from shame,
As were a son, new-born to bear my name.27
And again:
That small, weak fool, whom I have never hated,
Stained me with sin wherewith himself was mated,
An arrow, with mos
t deadly poison baited.28
Headsmen. Are you telling the truth, Sthāvaraka?[161]
P. 266.13]
Sthāvaraka. I am. And to keep me from telling anybody, he cast me into chains, and imprisoned me in the tower of his palace.
* * *
[Enter Sansthānaka.]
Sansthānaka. [Gleefully.]
I ate a shour and bitter dish
Of meat and herbs and shoup and fish;
I tried at home my tongue to tickle
With rice-cakes plain, and rice with treacle.29
[He listens.] The headsmen's voices! They shound like a broken brass cymbal. I hear the music of the fatal drum and the kettle-drums, and sho I shuppose that that poor man, Chārudatta, is being led to the place of execution. I musht go and shee it. It is a great delight to shee my enemy die. Beshides, I 've heard that a man who shees his enemy being killed, is sure not to have shore eyes in his next birth. I acted like a worm that had crept into the knot of a lotush-root. I looked for a hole to crawl out at, and brought about the death of thish poor man, Chārudatta. Now I 'll climb up the tower of my own palace, and have a look at my own heroic deeds. [He does so and looks about.] Wonderful what a crowd there is, to shee that poor man led to his death! What would it be when an arishtocrat, a big man like me, was being led to his death? [He gazes.] Look! There he goes toward the shouth, adorned like a young shteer. But why was the proclamation made near my palace tower, and why was it shtopped? [He looks about.] Why, my shlave Sthāvaraka is gone, too. I hope he has n't run away and betrayed the shecret. I musht go and look for him. [He descends and approaches the crowd.]
Sthāvaraka. [Discovers him.] There he comes, good masters!
Headsmen.
Give way! Make room! And shut the door!
Be silent, and say nothing more!
Here comes a mad bull through the press,
Whose horns are sharp with wickedness.30
[162]
[164.16. S.
Sansthānaka. Come, come, make way! [He approaches.] Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, come, let 's go home.
Sthāvaraka. You scoundrel! Are you not content with the murder of Vasantasenā? Must you try now to murder the noble Chārudatta, that tree of life to all who loved him?
Sansthānaka. I am beautiful as a pot of jewels. I kill no woman!
Bystanders. Oho! you murdered her, not the noble Chārudatta.
Sansthānaka. Who shays that?
Bystanders. [Pointing to Sthāvaraka.] This honest man.
Sansthānaka. [Fearfully. Aside.] Merciful heavens! Why did n't I chain that shlave Sthāvaraka fasht? Why, he was a witnessh of my crime. [He reflects.] I 'll do it thish way. [Aloud.] Lies, lies, good gentlemen. Why, I caught the shlave shtealing gold, and I pounded him, and murdered him, and put him in chains. He hates me. What he shays can't be true. [He secretly hands Sthāvaraka a bracelet, and whispers.] Sthāvaraka, my little shon, my shlave, take thish and shay shomething different.
Sthāvaraka. [Takes it.] Look, gentlemen, look! Why, he is trying to bribe me with gold.
Sansthānaka. [Snatches the bracelet from him.] That 's the gold that I put him in chains for. [Angrily.] Look here, headsmen! I put him in charge of my gold-chest, and when he turned thief, I murdered him and pounded him. If you don't believe it, jusht look at his back.
Headsmen. [Doing so.] Yes, yes. When a servant is branded that way, no wonder he tells tales.
Sthāvaraka. A curse on slavery! A slave convinces nobody. [Mournfully.] Noble Chārudatta, I have no further power. [He falls at Chārudatta's feet.]
Chārudatta. [Mournfully.]
Rise, rise! Kind soul to good men fallen on pain!
Brave friend who lendest such unselfish aid!
[163]Thy greatest toil to save me was in vain,
For fate would not. Thy duty now is paid.31
P. 270.15]
Headsmen. Beat your servant, master, and drive him away.
Sansthānaka. Out of the way, you! [He drives Sthāvaraka away.] Come, headsmen, what are you waiting for? Kill him.
Headsmen. Kill him yourself, if you are in a hurry.
Rohasena. Oh, headsmen, kill me and let father go free.
Sansthānaka. Yesh, shon and father, kill them both.
Chārudatta. This fool might do anything. Go, my son, to your mother.
Rohasena. And what should I do then?
Chārud.
Go with thy mother to a hermitage;
No moment, dear, delay;
Lest of thy father's fault thou reap the wage,
And tread the selfsame way.32
And you, my friend, go with him.
Maitreya. Oh, my friend, have you so known me as to think that I can live without you?
Chārudatta. Not so, my friend. Your life is your own. You may not throw it away.
Maitreya. [Aside.] True. And yet I cannot live apart from my friend. And so, when I have taken the boy to his mother, I will follow my friend even in death. [Aloud.] Yes, my friend, I will take him to her at once. [He embraces Chārudatta, then falls at his feet. Rohasena does the same, weeping.]
Sansthānaka. Look here! Did n't I tell you to kill Chārudatta, and his shon, too? [At this, Chārudatta betrays fear.]
Headsmen. We have n't any orders from the king to kill Chārudatta, and his son, too. Run away, boy, run away! [They drive Rohasena away.] Here is the third place of proclamation. Beat the drum! [They proclaim the sentence again.][164]
[167.1. S.
Sansthānaka. [Aside.] But the citizens don't believe it. [Aloud.] Chārudatta, you jackanapes, the citizens don't believe it. Shay it with your own tongue, "I murdered Vasantasenā." [Chārudatta remains silent.] Look here, headsmen! The man won't shpeak, the jackanapes Chārudatta. Jusht make him shpeak. Beat him a few times with thish ragged bamboo, or with a chain.
Goha. [Raises his arm to strike.] Come, Chārudatta, speak!
Chārudatta. [Mournfully.]
Now am I sunk so deep in sorrow's sea,
I know no fear, I know no sadness more;
Yet even now one flame still tortures me,
That men should say I slew whom I adore.33
[Sansthānaka repeats his words.]
Chārudatta. Men of my own city!
A scoundrel I, who bear the blame,
Nor seek in heaven to be blest;
A maid—or goddess—'t is the same—
But he will say the rest.(ix. 30)
Sansthānaka. Killed her!
Chārudatta. So be it.
Goha. It 's your turn to kill him, man.
Ahīnta. No, yours.
Goha. Well, let 's reckon it out. [He does so at great length.] Well, if it 's my turn to kill him, we will just let it wait a minute.
Ahīnta. Why?
Goha. Well, when my father was going to heaven, he said to me, "Son Goha, if it 's your turn to kill him, don't kill the sinner too quick."
Ahīnta. But why?
Goha. "Perhaps," said he, "some good man might give the money to set him free. Perhaps a son might be born to the king, and to celebrate the event, all the prisoners might be set free. Perhaps[165] an elephant might break loose, and the prisoner might escape in the excitement. Perhaps there might be a change of kings, and all the prisoners might be set free."
P. 274.8]
Sansthānaka. What? What? A change of kings?
Goha. Well, let 's reckon it out, whose turn it is.
Sansthānaka. Oh, come! Kill Chārudatta at once. [He takes Sthāvaraka, and withdraws a little.]
Headsmen. Noble Chārudatta, it is the king's commandment that bears the blame, not we headsmen. Think then of what you needs must think.
Chārudatta.
Though slandered by a cruel fate,
And stained by men of high estate,
If that my virtue yet regarded be,
Then she who dwells with gods above
Or wheresoever else—my love—
By her sweet nature wipe the
stain from me!34
Tell me. Whither would you have me go?
Goha. [Pointing ahead.] Why, here is the southern burying-ground, and when a criminal sees that, he says good-by to life in a minute. For look!
One half the corpse gaunt jackals rend and shake,
And ply their horrid task;
One half still hangs impaled upon the stake,
Loud laughter's grinning mask.35
Chārudatta. Alas! Ah, woe is me! [In his agitation he sits down.]
Sansthānaka. I won't go yet. I 'll jusht shee Chārudatta killed. [He walks about, gazing.] Well, well! He shat down.
Goha. Are you frightened, Chārudatta?
Chārudatta. [Rising hastily.] Fool!
Death have I never feared, but blackened fame;
My death were welcome, coming free from shame,
As were a son, new-born to bear my name.(27)
[166]
[169.3. S.
Goha. Noble Chārudatta, the moon and the sun dwell in the vault of heaven, yet even they are overtaken by disaster. How much more, death-fearing creatures, and men! In this world, one rises only to fall, another falls only to rise again. But from him who has risen and falls, his body drops like a garment. Lay these thoughts to heart, and be strong. [To Ahīnta.] Here is the fourth place of proclamation. Let us proclaim the sentence. [They do so once again.]
Chārudatta.
Vasantasenā! Oh, my belovèd!
From thy dear lips, that vied with coral's red,
Betraying teeth more bright than moonbeams fair,
My soul with heaven's nectar once was fed.
How can I, helpless, taste that poison dread,
To drink shame's poisoned cup how can I bear?(13)
* * *
The Little Clay Cart Page 18