Whence, smitten, drops of crimson stream.20
Sansthānaka. Shtop. Vasantasenā, shtop!
You wake my passion, my desire, my love;
You drive away my shleep in bed at night;
Both fear and terror sheem your heart to move;
You trip and shtumble in your headlong flight.
But Rāvana forced Kuntī[33] to his will;
Jusht sho shall I enjoy you to the fill.21
Courtier. Ah, Vasantasenā,
Why should your fleeter flight
Outstrip my flying feet?
Why, like a snake in fright
Before the bird-king's might,
Thus seek to flee, my sweet?
Could I not catch the storm-wind in his flight?
Yet would not seize upon you, though I might.22
[11]
P. 19.9]
Sansthānaka. Lishten to me, shir!
Thish whip of robber Love, thish dancing-girl,
Eater of fish, deshtroyer of her kin,
Thish shnubnose, shtubborn, love-box, courtezan,
Thish clothes-line, wanton creature, maid of sin—
I gave her ten shweet names, and shtill
She will not bend her to my will.23
Courtier.
As courtier's fingers strike the lute's tense string,
The dancing ear-ring smites your wounded cheek.
Why should you flee, with dreadful terror weak,
As flees the crane when heaven's thunders ring?24
Sansth.
Your jingling gems, girl, clink like anything;
Like Draupadī you flee, when Rāma kisshed her.
I'll sheize you quick, as once the monkey-king
Sheized Subhadrā, Vishvāvasu's shweet shishter.25
Servant.
He's the royal protégé;
Do whatever he may say.
And you shall have good fish and flesh to eat.
For when dogs have all the fish
And the flesh that they can wish,
Even carrion seems to them no longer sweet.26
Courtier. Mistress Vasantasenā,
The girdle drooping low upon your hips
Flashes as brilliant as the shining stars;
The wondrous terror of your fleeing mars
Your charms; for red realgar, loosened, slips
As on an imaged god, from cheek and lips.27
Sansth.
We're chasing you with all our main and might,
As dogs a jackal when they hunt and find it;
But you are quick and nimble in your flight,
And shteal my heart with all the roots that bind it.28
[12]
[11.23. S.
Vasantasenā. Pallavaka! Parabhritikā!
Sansthānaka. Mashter! a man! a man!
Courtier. Don't be a coward.
Vasantasenā. Mādhavikā! Mādhavikā!
Courtier. [Laughing.] Fool! She is calling her servants.
Sansthānaka. Mashter! Is she calling a woman?
Courtier. Why, of course.
Sansthānaka. Women! I kill hundreds of 'em. I'm a brave man.
Vasantasenā. [Seeing that no one answers.] Alas, how comes it that my very servants have fallen away from me? I shall have to defend myself by mother-wit.
Courtier. Don't stop the search.
Sansthānaka. Shqueal, Vasantasenā, shqueal for your cuckoo Parabhritikā, or for your blosshom Pallavaka or for all the month of May! Who's going to save you when I'm chasing you?
Why shpeak of Bhīmasena? Or the shon
Of Jamadagni, that thrice-mighty one?
The ten-necked ogre? Shon of Kuntī fair?
Jusht look at me! My fingers in your hair,
Jusht like Duhshāsana, I'll tear, and tear.29
Look, look!
My shword is sharp; good-by, poor head!
Let's chop it off, or kill you dead.
Then do not try my wrath to shun;
When you musht die, your life is done.30
Vasantasenā. Sir, I am a weak woman.
Courtier. That is why you are still alive.
Sansthānaka. That is why you're not murdered.
Vasantasenā. [Aside.] Oh! his very courtesy frightens me. Come, I will try this. [Aloud.] Sir, what do you expect from this pursuit? my jewels?[13]
P. 24.7]
Courtier. Heaven forbid! A garden creeper, mistress Vasantasenā, should not be robbed of its blossoms. Say no more about the jewels.
Vasantasenā. What is then your desire?
Sansthānaka. I'm a man, a big man, a regular Vāsudeva.[34] You musht love me.
Vasantasenā. [Indignantly.] Heavens! You weary me. Come, leave me! Your words are an insult.
Sansthānaka. [Laughing and clapping his hands.] Look, mashter, look! The courtezan's daughter is mighty affectionate with me, isn't she? Here she says "Come on! Heavens, you're weary. You're tired!" No, I haven't been walking to another village or another city. No, little mishtress, I shwear by the gentleman's head, I shwear by my own feet! It's only by chasing about at your heels that I've grown tired and weary.
Courtier. [Aside.] What! is it possible that the idiot does not understand when she says "You weary me"? [Aloud.] Vasantasenā, your words have no place in the dwelling of a courtezan,
Which, as you know, is friend to every youth;
Remember, you are common as the flower
That grows beside the road; in bitter truth,
Your body has its price; your beauty's dower
Is his, who pays the market's current rate:
Then serve the man you love, and him you hate.31
And again:
The wisest Brahman and the meanest fool
Bathe in the selfsame pool;
Beneath the peacock, flowering plants bend low,
No less beneath the crow;
The Brahman, warrior, merchant, sail along
With all the vulgar throng.
You are the pool, the flowering plant, the boat;
And on your beauty every man may dote.32
[14]
[13.22 S.
Vasantasenā. Yet true love would be won by virtue, not violence.
Sansthānaka. But, mashter, ever since the shlave-wench went into the park where Kāma's[35] temple shtands, she has been in love with a poor man, with Chārudatta, and she doesn't love me any more. His house is to the left. Look out and don't let her shlip out of our hands.
Courtier. [Aside.] Poor fool, he has said the very thing he should have concealed. So Vasantasenā is in love with Chārudatta? The proverb is right. Pearl suits with pearl. Well, I have had enough of this fool. [Aloud.] Did you say the good merchant's house was to the left, you jackass?
Sansthānaka. Yes. His house is to the left.
Vasantasenā. [Aside.] Oh, wonderful! If his house is really at my left hand, then the scoundrel has helped me in the very act of hurting me, for he has guided me to my love.
Sansthānaka. But mashter, it's pitch dark and it's like hunting for a grain of soot in a pile of shpotted beans. Now you shee Vasantasenā and now you don't.
Courtier. Pitch dark it is indeed.
The sudden darkness seems to steal
The keenness of my sight;
My open eyes, as with a seal,
Are closed by blackest night.33
And again:
Darkness anoints my body, and the sky
Drops ointment of thick darkness, till mine eye
Is all unprofitable grown to me,
Like service done to them who cheat and lie.34
Sansthānaka. Mashter, I'm looking for Vasantasenā.
Courtier. Is there anything you can trace her by, jackass?
Sansthānaka. Like what, for inshtance?
[15]
P. 28.3]
Courtier. Like the tinkling of her jewels, for instance, or the fragrance of her garlands.
Sansthānaka. I hear the shmell of her garlands,
but my nose is shtuffed so full of darkness that I don't shee the shound of her jewels very clearly.
Courtier. [To Vasantasenā. Aside.] Vasantasenā,
'T is true, the night is dark, O timid maid,
And like the lightning hidden in the cloud,
You are not seen; yet you will be betrayed
By fragrant garlands and by anklets loud.35
Have you heard me, Vasantasenā?
Vasantasenā. [To herself.] Heard and understood. [She removes the ankle-rings, lays aside the garlands, and takes a few steps, feeling her way.] I can feel the wall of the house, and here is a side-entrance. But alas! my fingers tell me that the door is shut.
* * *
Chārudatta [who is within the house]. Comrade, my prayer is done. Go now and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
Maitreya. No, I'm not going.
Chārudatta. Alas!
The poor man's kinsmen do not heed his will;
The friends who loved him once, now stand afar;
His sorrows multiply; his strength is nil;
Behold! his character's bright-shining star
Fades like the waning moon; and deeds of ill
That others do, are counted to him still.36
And again:
No man holds converse with him; none will greet
With due respect the poor man when they meet.
Where rich men hold a feast, if he draw near,
He meets with scornful looks for looks of cheer.
[16]
[15.19. S.
Where vulgar throngs are gathered, 't is the same;
His scanty raiment wakes his heartfelt shame.
Five are the deadly sins[36] we knew before;
Alas! I find the sixth is—to be poor.37
And yet again:
Ah, Poverty, I pity thee, that so
To me thou clingest, as thy dearest friend;
When my poor life has met its woeful end,
I sadly wonder, whither thou wilt go.38
Maitreya. [Betraying his embarrassment.] Well, comrade, if I must go, at least let Radanikā go with me, to keep me company.
Chārudatta. Radanikā, you are to accompany Maitreya.
Radanikā. Yes, sir.
Maitreya. Mistress Radanikā, do you take the offering and the candle while I open the side-door. [He does so.]
Vasantasenā. It seems as if the door took pity on me and opened of itself. I will lose no time, but enter. [She looks in.] What? a candle? Oh dear, oh dear! [She puts it out with her skirt and enters.]
Chārudatta. What was that, Maitreya?
Maitreya. I opened the side-door and the wind came through all in a lump and blew out the candle. Suppose you go out by the side-door, Radanikā, and I will follow as soon as I have gone into the courtyard and lighted the candle again.[Exit.
Sansthānaka. Mashter! mashter! I'm looking for Vasantasenā.
Courtier. Keep on looking, keep on looking!
Sansthānaka. [Does so.] Mashter! mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!
Courtier. Idiot, you've caught me.
Sansthānaka. You shtand right here, mashter, and shtay where you're put. [He renews the search and seizes the servant.] Mashter! [17]mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!
P. 31.3]
Servant. Master, you've caught me, your servant.
Sansthānaka. Mashter here, shervant here! Mashter, shervant; shervant, mashter. Now shtay where you're put, both of you. [He renews the search and seizes Radanikā by the hair.] Mashter! mashter! Thish time I've caught her! I've caught Vasantasenā!
Through the black night she fled, fled she;
Her garland's shmell betrayed her;
Like Chānakya caught Draupadī,
I caught her hair and shtayed her.39
Courtier.
Ah, proud to be so young, so fair!
Too high thy love must not aspire;
For now thy blossom-fragrant hair,
That merits richest gems and rare,
Serves but to drag thee through the mire.40
Sansth.
I've got your head, girl, got it tight,
By the hair, the locks, and the curls, too.
Now shcream, shqueak, shqueal with all your might
"Shiva! Ishvara! Shankara! Shambhu!"[37]41
Radanikā. [In terror.] Oh, sirs, what does this mean?
Courtier. You jackass! It's another voice.
Sansthānaka. Mashter, the wench has changed her voice, the way a cat changes her voice, when she wants shome cream of curdled milk.
Courtier. Changed her voice? Strange! Yet why so strange?
She trod the stage; she learned the arts;
She studied to deceive our hearts;
And now she practises her parts.42
[Enter Maitreya.]
Maitreya. Look! In the gentle evening breeze the flame of the candle is fluttering like the heart of a goat that goes to the altar.
[He approaches and discovers Radanikā.] Mistress Radanikā!
[18]
[17.17. S.
Sansthānaka. Mashter, mashter! A man! a man!
Maitreya. This is right, this is perfectly right, that strangers should force their way into the house, just because Chārudatta is poor.
Radanikā. Oh, Maitreya, see how they insult me.
Maitreya. What! insult you? No, they are insulting us.
Radanikā. Very well. They are insulting you, then.
Maitreya. But they aren't using violence?
Radanikā. Yes, yes!
Maitreya. Really?
Radanikā. Really.
Maitreya. [Raising his staff angrily.] No, sir! Man, a dog will show his teeth in his own kennel, and I am a Brahman! My staff is crooked as my fortunes, but it can still split a dry bamboo or a rascal's pate.
Courtier. Have mercy, O great Brahman, have mercy.
Maitreya. [Discovers the courtier.] He is not the sinner. [Discovers Sansthānaka.] Ah, here is the sinner. Well, you brother-in-law to the king, Sansthānaka, you scoundrel, you coward, this is perfectly proper, isn't it? Chārudatta the good is a poor man now—true, but are not his virtues an ornament to Ujjayinī? And so men break into his house and insult his servants!
Insult not him, laid low by poverty;
For none are counted poor by mighty fate:
Yet he who falls from virtue's high estate,
Though he be rich, no man is poor as he.43
Courtier. [Betraying his embarrassment.] Have mercy, O great Brahman, have mercy. We intended no insolence; we merely mistook this lady for another. For
We sought an amorous maiden,
Maitreya. What! this one?
Courtier. Heaven forbid!
one whose youth
Is in the guidance of her own sweet will;
She disappeared: unconscious of the truth,
We did what seems a purposed deed of ill.44
I pray you, accept this all-in-all of humblest supplication. [He drops his sword, folds his hands, and falls at Maitreya's feet.]
[19]
P. 35.4]
Maitreya. Good man, rise, rise. When I reviled you, I did not know you. Now I know you and I ask your pardon.
Courtier. It is I who should ask pardon. I will rise on one condition.
Maitreya. And that is—
Courtier. That you will not tell Chārudatta what has happened here.
Maitreya. I will be silent.
Courtier.
Brahman, this gracious act of thine
I bow my neck to bear;
For never could this sword of mine
With virtue's steel compare.45
Sansthānaka. [Indignantly.] But mashter, what makes you fold your hands sho helplesshly and fall at the feet of thish manikin?
Courtier. I was afraid.
Sansthānaka. What were you afraid of?
Courtier. Of Chārudatta's virtues.
Sansthānaka. Virtues? He? You can go into his houshe and not
find a thing to eat.
Courtier. No, no.
His loving-kindness unto such as we
Has brought him low at last;
From him could no man learn what insults be,
Or e'er his wealth was past.
This well-filled pool, that in its summer day
Gave others drink, itself is dried away.46
Sansthānaka. [Impatiently.] Who is the shon of a shlave-wench anyway?
Brave Shvetaketu is he, Pāndu's child?
Or Rādhā's shon, the ten-necked ogre wild?
[20]Or Indradatta? or again, is he
Shon of brave Rāma and of fair Kuntī?
Or Dharmaputra? Ashvatthāman bold?
Perhaps Jatāyu's shelf, that vulture old?47
[19.19. S.
Courtier. Fool! I will tell you who Chārudatta is.
A tree of life to them whose sorrows grow,
Beneath its fruit of virtue bending low;
Father to good men; virtue's touchstone he;
The mirror of the learned; and the sea
Where all the tides of character unite;
A righteous man, whom pride could never blight;
A treasure-house, with human virtues stored;
Courtesy's essence, honor's precious hoard.
He doth to life its fullest meaning give,
So good is he; we others breathe, not live.48
Let us be gone.
Sansthānaka. Without Vasantasenā?
Courtier. Vasantasenā has disappeared.
Sansthānaka. How?
Courtier.
Like sick men's strength, or like the blind man's sight,
Like the fool's judgment, like the sluggard's might,
Like thoughtless scoundrels' store of wisdom's light,
Like love, when foemen fan our slumbering wrath,
So did she vanish, when you crossed her path.49
The Little Clay Cart Page 4
