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
Act X., entitled The End. Sixth day.—Two headsmen are conducting Chārudatta to the place of execution. Chārudatta takes his last leave of his son and his friend Maitreya. But Sansthānaka's servant escapes from confinement and betrays the truth; yet he is not believed, owing to the cunning displayed by his master. The headsmen are preparing to execute Chārudatta, when Vasantasenā herself appears upon the scene, accompanied by the Buddhist monk. Her appearance puts a summary end to the proceedings. Then news is brought that Aryaka has killed and supplanted the former king, that he wishes to reward Chārudatta, and that he has by royal edict freed Vasantasenā from the necessity of living as a courtezan. Sansthānaka is brought before Chārudatta for sentence, but is pardoned by the man whom he had so grievously injured. The play ends with the usual Epilogue.
[2] For an illuminating discussion of these matters, the reader is referred to Sylvain Lévi's admirable work, Le Théâtre Indien, Paris, 1890, pages 196-211.
[3] In his Mālatīmādhava, i. 8, he says: "Whoever they may be who now proclaim their contempt for me,—they know something, but this work was not for them. Yet there will arise a man of nature like mine own; for time is endless, and the world is wide." This seems prophetic of John Milton.
[4] Prasannarāghava, i. 22.
[5] Mahāvīracarita, i. 4.
[6] History of Chinese Literature, by H. A. Giles, pages 145-146.
[7] Shakuntalā, i. 15.
[8] Latter Acts of Rāma, v. 17.
[9] Prakaraṇa.
[10] Dhūrtasaṁkula: Daçarūpa, iii. 38.
[11] Sāhityadarpaṇa, 428.
[12] As in Mālatī-mādhava.
[13] Daçarūpa, iii. 33.
[14] In Kālidāsa's Shakuntalā.
[15] In Bhavabhūti's Latter Acts of Rāma.
[16] See page 128.
[17] Aryaka, Darduraka, Chandanaka, Sharvilaka, and the courtier.
[18] See x. 27.
[19] See v. 46 and the following stage-direction.
[20] In Kālidāsa's play of that name.
[21] In Bhavabhūti's Latter Acts of Rāma.
[22] See viii. 43.
[23] See pages 65-66 and page 174.
[24] See viii. 38 and compare the words, "Yet love bids me prattle," on page 86.
[25] Page 87.
[26] Stanzas of the latter sort in The Little Clay Cart are vii. 2 and viii. 5.
[27] This statement requires a slight limitation; compare, for example, the footnote to page 82.
[28] But the combination th should be pronounced as in ant-hill, not as in thin or this; similarly dh as in mad-house; bh as in abhor.
[29] Except in the names Āryaka and Āhīnta, where typographical considerations have led to the omission of the macron over the initial letter; and except also in head-lines.
DRAMATIS PERSONAEChārudatta, a Brahman merchant
Rohasena, his son
Maitreya, his friend
Vardhamānaka, a servant in his house
Sansthānaka, brother-in-law of King Pālaka
Sthāvaraka, his servant
Another Servant of Sansthānaka
A Courtier
Aryaka, a herdsman who becomes king
Sharvilaka, a Brahman, in love with Madanikā
A Shampooer, who becomes a Buddhist monk
Māthura, a gambling-master
Darduraka, a gambler
Another Gambler
Karnapūraka }
Kumbhīlaka } servants of Vasantasenā
Vīraka }
Chandanaka } policemen
Goha }
Ahīnta } headsmen
Bastard pages, in Vasantasenā's house
A Judge, a Gild-warden, a Clerk, and a Beadle
Vasantasenā, a courtezan
Her Mother
Madanikā, maid to Vasantasenā
Another Maid to Vasantasenā
The Wife of Chārudatta
Radanikā, a maid in Chārudatta's house
SCENEUjjayinī (called also Avanti) and its Environs
THE LITTLE CLAY CARTFashioned by doubling of a serpent's folds;
His sensive organs, so he checks his breath,
Are numbed, till consciousness seems sunk in death;
Within himself, with eye of truth, he sees
The All-soul, free from all activities.
May His, may Shiva's meditation be
Your strong defense; on the Great Self thinks he,
Knowing full well the world's vacuity. 1
And again:
That seems a threatening thunder-cloud, whereon,
Bright as the lightning-flash, lies Gaurī's arm.2
Stage-director. Enough of this tedious work, which fritters away the interest of the audience! Let me then most reverently salute the honorable gentlemen, and announce our intention to produce a drama called "The Little Clay Cart." Its author was a man
Whose eyes were those of the chakora bird
That feeds on moonbeams; glorious his face
As the full moon; his person, all have heard,
Was altogether lovely. First in worth
Among the twice-born was this poet, known
As Shūdraka far over all the earth,
His virtue's depth unfathomed and alone.3
[1.14. S.
And again:
The science mathematical, he knew;
The arts wherein fair courtezans excel,
And all the lore of elephants as well.
Through Shiva's grace, his eye was never dim;
He saw his son a king in place of him.
The difficult horse-sacrifice he tried
Successfully; entered the fiery tide,
One hundred years and ten days old, and died.4
And yet again:
Of scholars chief, who to the Veda cling;
Rich in the riches that ascetics know;
Glad, gainst the foeman's elephant to show
His valor;—such was Shūdraka, the king.5
And in this work of his,
Dwells one called Chārudatta, famed
No less for youth than poverty;
A merchant's son and Brahman, he.
Vasantasenā's inmost love;
Fair as the springtime's radiancy,
And yet a courtezan is she.6
Of love's pure festival in these two hearts,
Of prudent acts, a lawsuit's wrong and hate,
A rascal's nature, and the course of fate.7
[He walks about and looks around him.] Why, this music-room of ours is empty. I wonder where the actors have gone. [Reflecting.] Ah, I understand.
P. 4.7]
Empty his house, to whom no child was born;
Thrice empty his, who lacks true friends and sure;
To fools, the world is empty and forlorn;
But all that is, is empty to the poor.8
I have finished the concert. And I've been practising so long that the pupils of my eyes are dancing, and I'm so hungry that my eyes are crackling like a lotus-seed, dried up by the fiercest rays of the summer sun. I'll just call my wife and ask whether there is anything for breakfast or not.
Hello! here I am—but no! Both the particular occasion and the general custom demand that I speak Prākrit. [Speaking in Prākrit.] Confound it! I've been practising so long and I'm so hungry that my limbs are as weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Suppose I go home and see whether my good wife has got anything ready or not. [He walks about and looks around him.] Here I am at home. I'll just go in. [He enters and looks about.] Merciful heavens! Why in the world is everything in our house turned upside down? A long stream of rice-water is flowing down the street. The ground, spotted black where the iron kettle has been rubbed clean, is as lovely as a girl with the beauty-marks of black cosmetic on her face. It smells so good that my hunger seems to blaze up and hurts me more than ever. Has some hidden treasure come to light? or am I hungry enough to think the whole world is made of rice? There surely isn't any breakfast in our house, and I'm starved to death. But everything seems topsyturvy here. One girl is preparing cosmetics, another is weaving garlands of flowers. [Reflecting.] What does it all mean? Well, I'll call my good wife and learn the truth. [He looks toward the dressing-room.] Mistress, will you come here a moment?
[Enter an actress.]
Actress. Here I am, sir.
Director. You are very welcome, mistress.
Actress. Command me, sir. What am I to do?
[3.8. S.
Director. Mistress, I've been practising so long and I'm so hungry that my limbs are as weak as dried-up lotus-stalks. Is there anything to eat in the house or not?
Actress. There's everything, sir.
Director. Well, what?
Actress. For instance—there's rice with sugar, melted butter, curdled milk, rice; and, all together, it makes you a dish fit for heaven. May the gods always be thus gracious to you!
Director. All that in our house? or are you joking?
Actress. [Aside.] Yes, I will have my joke. [Aloud.] It's in the market-place, sir.
Director. [Angrily.] You wretched woman, thus shall your own hope be cut off! And death shall find you out! For my expectations, like a scaffolding, have been raised so high, only to fall again.
Actress. Forgive me, sir, forgive me! It was only a joke.
Director. But what do these unusual preparations mean? One girl is preparing cosmetics, another is weaving garlands, and the very ground is adorned with sacrificial flowers of five different colors.
Actress. This is a fast day, sir.
Director. What fast?
Actress. The fast for a handsome husband.
Director. In this world, mistress, or the next?
Actress. In the next world, sir.
Director. [Wrathfully.] Gentlemen! look at this. She is sacrificing my food to get herself a husband in the next world.
Actress. Don't be angry, sir. I am fasting in the hope that you may be my husband in my next birth, too.
Director. But who suggested this fast to you?
Actress. Your own dear friend Jūrnavriddha.
Director. [Angrily.] Ah, Jūrnavriddha, son of a slave-wench! When, oh, when shall I see King Pālaka angry with you? Then you will be parted, as surely as the scented hair of some young bride.
P. 8.10]
Actress. Don't be angry, sir. It is only that I may have you in the next world that I celebrate this fast. [She falls at his feet.]
Director. Stand up, mistress, and tell me who is to officiate at this fast.
Actress. Some Brahman of our own sort whom we must invite.
Director. You may go then. And I will invite some Brahman of our own sort.
Actress. Very well, sir.[Exit.
Director. [Walking about.] Good heavens! In this rich city of Ujjayinī how am I to find a Brahman of our own sort? [He looks about him.] Ah, here comes Chārudatta's friend Maitreya. Good! I'll ask him. Maitreya, you must be the first to break bread in our house to-day.
A voice behind the scenes. You must invite some other Brahman. I am busy.
Director. But, man, the feast is set and you have it all to yourself. Besides, you shall have a present.
The voice. I said no once. Why should you keep on urging me?
Director. He says no. Well, I must invite some other Brahman.
[Exit.
END OF THE PROLOGUE
Comments (0)