The Little Clay Cart, Sudraka [highly recommended books .txt] 📗
- Author: Sudraka
- Performer: -
Book online «The Little Clay Cart, Sudraka [highly recommended books .txt] 📗». Author Sudraka
Its blossoms honor, good its precious fruit?32
Maitreya. [Aside.] A good description by a naughty woman. [Aloud.] They do, indeed.
Vasantasenā. Tell me, what is the purpose of your coming?
Maitreya. Listen, madam. The excellent Chārudatta folds his hands[59] and requests—
Vasantasenā. [Folding her hands.] And commands—
Maitreya. He says he imagined that that golden casket was his own and gambled it away. And nobody knows where the gambling-master has gone, for he is employed in the king's business.
[74.9. S.
Maid. Mistress, I congratulate you. The gentleman has turned gambler.
Vasantasenā. [Aside.] It was stolen by a thief, and he is so proud that he says he gambled it away. I love him for that.
Maitreya. He requests that you will therefore be good enough to accept in its place this necklace of pearls.
Vasantasenā. [Aside.] Shall I show him the jewels? [Reflecting.] No, not yet.
Maitreya. Why don't you take this necklace?
Vasantasenā. [Laughs and looks at her friend.] Why should I not take the necklace, Maitreya? [She takes it and lays it away. Aside.] How is it possible that drops of honey fall from the mango-tree, even after its blossoms are gone? [Aloud.] Sir, pray tell the worthy gambler Chārudatta in my name that I shall pay him a visit this evening.
Maitreya. [Aside.] What else does she expect to get out of a visit to our house? [Aloud.] Madam, I will tell him—[Aside] to have nothing more to do with this courtezan.[Exit.
Vasantasenā. Take these jewels, girl. Let us go and bring cheer to Chārudatta.
Maid. But mistress, see! An untimely storm is gathering.
Vasant.
The night may blacken in the sky above;
For this I care not, nor I will not waver;
My heart is journeying to him I love.33
Take the necklace, girl, and come quickly.[Exeunt omnes.
[50] A name of Kāma, the god of love.
[51] Used as a refrigerant.
[52] That is to say. You are now a legal wife, while I am still a courtesan.
[53] "Rams in India are commonly trained to fight." Wilson.
[54] Virtuous souls after death may become stars; but when their stellar happiness equals the sum of their acquired merit, they fall to earth again.
[55] The choristers of heaven.
[56] The nymphs of heaven.
[57] The god of wealth.
[58] This shows the excellence of Vasantasenā's education. Women, as an almost invariable rule, speak Prākrit.
[59] A gesture of respectful entreaty.
ACT THE FIFTH THE STORM[The love-lorn Chārudatta appears, seated.]
Chārudatta. [Looks up.]
The peacocks gaze and lift their fans on high;
The swans forget their purpose to depart;
The untimely storm afflicts the blackened sky,
And the wistful lover's heart.1
And again:
In flashing lightning's golden mantle clad,
While cranes, his buglers, make the heaven glad,
The cloud, a second Vishnu,[61] mounts the sky.2
And yet again:
To trumpet him, instead of bugle strains,
And garmented in lightning's silken robe.
Approaches now the harbinger of rains.3
Impetuous falls from out the cloudy womb;
Like severed lace from heaven-cloaking gloom,
It gleams an instant, then is gone forever.4
Or like to swans, toward heaven's vault that fly,
Like paired flamingos, male and mate together,
Like mighty pinnacles that tower on high.
In thousand forms the tumbling clouds embrace,
Though torn by winds, they gather, interlace,
And paint the ample canvas of the sky.5
Proud as the champion of Kuru's race.
The haughty peacock shrills his joy abroad;
The cuckoo, in Yudhishthira's sad case,
Is forced to wander if he would not die;
The swans must leave their forest-homes and fly,
Like Pāndu's sons, to seek an unknown place.6
[Reflecting.] It is long since Maitreya went to visit Vasantasenā. And even yet
he does not come.[Enter Maitreya.]
[76.20. S.
Maitreya. Confound the courtezan's avarice and her incivility! To think of her making so short a story of it! Over and over she repeats something about the affection she feels, and then without more ado she pockets the necklace. She is rich enough so that she might at least have said: "Good Maitreya, rest a little. You must not go until you have had a cup to drink." Confound the courtezan! I hope I 'll never set eyes on her again. [Wearily.] The proverb is right. "It is hard to find a lotus-plant without a root, a merchant who never cheats, a goldsmith who never steals, a village-gathering without a fight, and a courtezan without avarice." Well, I 'll find my friend and persuade him to have nothing more to do with this courtezan. [He walks about until he discovers Chārudatta.] Ah, my good friend is sitting in the orchard. I 'll go to him. [Approaching.] Heaven bless you! May happiness be yours.
Chārudatta. [Looking up.] Ah, my friend Maitreya has returned. You are very welcome, my friend. Pray be seated.
Maitreya. Thank you.
Chārudatta. Tell me of your errand, my friend.
Maitreya. My errand went all wrong.
P. 132.8]
Chārudatta. What! did she not accept the necklace?
Maitreya. How could we expect such a piece of luck? She put her lotus-tender hands to her brow,[62] and took it.
Chārudatta. Then why do you say "went wrong"?
Maitreya. Why not, when we lost a necklace that was the pride of the four seas for a cheap golden casket, that was stolen before we had a bite or a drink out of it?
Chārudatta. Not so, my friend.
The price of confidence has no less measure.7
Maitreya. Now look here! I have a second grievance. She tipped her friend the wink, covered her face with the hem of her dress, and laughed at me. And so, Brahman though I am, I hereby fall on my face before you and beg you not to have anything more to do with this courtezan. That sort of society does any amount of damage. A courtezan is like a pebble in your shoe. It hurts before you get rid of it. And one thing more, my friend. A courtezan, an elephant, a scribe, a mendicant friar, a swindler, and an ass—where these dwell, not even rogues are born.
Chārudatta. Oh, my friend, a truce to all your detraction! My poverty of itself prevents me. For consider:
But his legs fail him, for his breath departs.
So men's vain wishes wander everywhere,
Then, weary grown, return into their hearts.8
Then too, my friend:
For maids are won by gold;
[Aside. And not by virtue cold. Aloud.]
And her I may not hold.9
[78.23. S.
Maitreya. [Looks down. Aside.] From the way he looks up and sighs, I conclude that my effort to distract him has simply increased his longing. The proverb is right. "You can't reason with a lover." [Aloud.] Well, she told me to tell you that she would have to come here this evening. I suppose she isn't satisfied with the necklace and is coming to look for something else.
Chārudatta. Let her come, my friend. She shall not depart unsatisfied.
[Enter Kumbhīlaka.]
Kumbhīlaka. Listen, good people.
The more my skin gets wet;
The more the cold wind beats,
The more I shake and fret.10
[He bursts out laughing.]
I make the loud lute speak on seven strings;
In singing, I essay the donkey's rôles:
No god can match my music when he sings.11
My mistress Vasantasenā said to me "Kumbhīlaka, go and tell Chārudatta that I am coming." So here I am, on my way to Chārudatta's house. [He walks about, and, as he enters, discovers Chārudatta.] Here is Chārudatta in the orchard. And here is that wretched jackanapes, too. Well, I'll go up to them. What! the orchard-gate is shut? Good! I'll give this jackanapes a hint. [He throws lumps of mud.]
Maitreya. Well! Who is this pelting me with mud, as if I were an apple-tree inside of a fence?
Chārudatta. Doubtless the pigeons that play on the roof of the garden-house.
Maitreya. Wait a minute, you confounded pigeon! With this stick I'll bring you down from the roof to the ground, like an over-ripe mango. [He raises his stick and starts to run.]
P. 136.8]
Chārudatta. [Holding him back by the sacred cord.] Sit down, my friend. What do you mean? Leave the poor pigeon alone with his mate.
Kumbhīlaka. What! he sees the pigeon and doesn't see me? Good! I'll hit him again with another lump of mud. [He does so.]
Maitreya. [Looks about him.] What! Kumbhīlaka? I'll be with you in a minute. [He approaches and opens the gate.] Well, Kumbhīlaka, come in. I'm glad to see you.
Kumbhīlaka. [Enters.] I salute you, sir.
Maitreya. Where do you come from, man, in this rain and darkness?
Kumbhīlaka. You see, she's here.
Maitreya. Who's she? Who's here?
Kumbhīlaka. She. See? She.
Maitreya. Look here, you son of a slave! What makes you sigh like a half-starved old beggar in a famine, with your "shesheshe"?
Kumbhīlaka. And what makes you hoot like an owl with your "whowhowho"?
Maitreya. All right. Tell me.
Kumbhīlaka. [Aside.] Suppose I say it this way. [Aloud.] I'll give you a riddle, man.
Maitreya. And I'll give you the answer with my foot on your bald spot.
Kumbhīlaka. Not till you've guessed it. In what season do the mango-trees blossom?
Maitreya. In summer, you jackass.
Kumbhīlaka. [Laughing.] Wrong!
Maitreya. [Aside.] What shall I say now? [Reflecting.] Good! I'll go and ask Chārudatta. [Aloud.] Just wait a moment. [Approaching Chārudatta.] My friend, I just wanted to ask you in what season the mango-trees blossom.
[81.3. S.
Chārudatta. You fool, in spring, in vasanta.
Maitreya. [Returns to Kumbhīlaka.] You fool, in spring, in vasanta.
Kumbhīlaka. Now I 'll give you another. Who guards thriving villages?
Maitreya. Why, the guard.
Kumbhīlaka. [Laughing.] Wrong!
Maitreya. Well, I'm stuck. [Reflecting.] Good! I'll ask Chārudatta again. [He returns and puts the question to Chārudatta.]
Chārudatta. The army, my friend, the senā.
Maitreya. [Comes back to Kumbhīlaka.] The army, you jackass, the senā.
Kumbhīlaka. Now put the two together and say 'em fast.
Maitreya. Senā-vasanta.
Kumbhīlaka. Say it turned around.
Maitreya. [Turns around.] Senā-vasanta.
Kumbhīlaka. You fool! you jackanapes! Turn the parts of the thing around!
Maitreya. [Turns his feet around.] Senā-vasanta.
Kumbhīlaka. You fool! Turn the parts of the word around!
Maitreya. [After reflection.] Vasanta-senā.
Kumbhīlaka. She's here.
Maitreya. Then I must tell Chārudatta. [Approaching.] Well, Chārudatta, your creditor is here.
Chārudatta. How should a creditor come into my family?
Maitreya. Not in the family perhaps, but at the door. Vasantasenā is here.
Chārudatta. Why do you deceive me, my friend?
Maitreya. If you can't trust me, then ask Kumbhīlaka here. Kumbhīlaka, you jackass, come here.
P. 140.4]
Kumbhīlaka. [Approaching.] I salute you, sir.
Chārudatta. You are welcome, my good fellow. Tell me, is Vasantasenā really here?
Kumbhīlaka. Yes, she's here. Vasantasenā is here.
Chārudatta. [Joyfully.] My good fellow, I have never let the bearer of
Comments (0)