Part 3
A candle shining through the deepest dark Is happiness that follows sorrow's strife; But after bliss when man bears sorrow's mark, His body lives a very death-in-life. 10
_Maitreya._ Well, which would you rather, be dead or be poor?
_Charudatta._ Ah, my friend,
Far better death than sorrows sure and slow; Some passing suffering from death may flow, But poverty brings never-ending woe. 11
_Maitreya._ My dear friend, be not thus cast down. Your wealth has been conveyed to them you love, and like the moon, after she has yielded her nectar to the gods, your waning fortunes win an added charm.
_Charudatta._ Comrade, I do not grieve for my ruined fortunes. But
This is my sorrow. They whom I Would greet as guests, now pass me by. "This is a poor man's house," they cry.
As flitting bees, the season o'er, Desert the elephant, whose store Of ichor[30] spent, attracts no more. 12
_Maitreya._ Oh, confound the money! It is a trifle not worth thinking about. It is like a cattle-boy in the woods afraid of wasps; it doesn't stay anywhere where it is used for food.
[8.5. S.
_Charud._ Believe me, friend. My sorrow does not spring
From simple loss of gold; For fortune is a fickle, changing thing, Whose favors do not hold; But he whose sometime wealth has taken wing, Finds bosom-friends grow cold. 13
Then too:
A poor man is a man ashamed; from shame Springs want of dignity and worthy fame; Such want gives rise to insults hard to bear; Thence comes despondency; and thence, despair; Despair breeds folly; death is folly's fruit-- Ah! the lack of money is all evils root! 14
_Maitreya._ But just remember what a trifle money is, after all, and be more cheerful.
_Charudatta._ My friend, the poverty of a man is to him
A home of cares, a shame that haunts the mind, Another form of warfare with mankind; The abhorrence of his friends, a source of hate From strangers, and from each once-loving mate; But if his wife despise him, then 't were meet In some lone wood to seek a safe retreat. The flame of sorrow, torturing his soul, Burns fiercely, yet contrives to leave him whole. 15
Comrade, I have made my offering to the divinities of the house. Do you too go and offer sacrifice to the Divine Mothers at a place where four roads meet.
_Maitreya._ No!
_Charudatta._ Why not?
_Maitreya._ Because the gods are not gracious to you even when thus honored. So what is the use of worshiping?
P. 16.8]
_Charudatta._ Not so, my friend, not so! This is the constant duty of a householder.
The gods feel ever glad content In the gifts, and the self-chastisement, The meditations, and the prayers, Of those who banish worldly cares. 16
Why then do you hesitate? Go and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
_Maitreya._ No, I'm not going. You must send somebody else. Anyway, everything seems to go wrong with me, poor Brahman that I am! It's like a reflection in a mirror; the right side becomes the left, and the left becomes the right. Besides, at this hour of the evening, people are abroad upon the king's highway--courtezans, courtiers, servants, and royal favorites. They will take me now for fair prey, just as the black-snake out frog-hunting snaps up the mouse in his path. But what will you do sitting here?
_Charudatta._ Good then, remain; and I will finish my devotions.
* * * * *
_Voices behind the scenes._ Stop, Vasantasena, stop!
[_Enter Vasantasena, pursued by the courtier, by Sansthanaka, and the servant._]
_Courtier._ Vasantasena! Stop, stop!
Ah, why should fear transform your tenderness? Why should the dainty feet feel such distress, That twinkle in the dance so prettily? Why should your eyes, thus startled into fear, Dart sidelong looks? Why, like the timid deer Before pursuing hunters, should you flee? 17
_Sansthanaka._ Shtop,[31] Vasantasena, shtop!
Why flee? and run? and shtumble in your turning? Be kind! You shall not die. Oh, shtop your feet! With love, shweet girl, my tortured heart is burning. As on a heap of coals a piece of meat. 18
[10.2 S.
_Servant._ Stop, courtezan, stop!
In fear you flee Away from me, As a summer peahen should; But my lord and master Struts fast and faster, Like a woodcock in the wood. 19
_Courtier._ Vasantasena! Stop, stop!
Why should you tremble, should you flee, A-quiver like the plantain tree? Your garment's border, red and fair, Is all a-shiver in the air; Now and again, a lotus-bud Falls to the ground, as red as blood. A red realgar[32] vein you seem, Whence, smitten, drops of crimson stream. 20
_Sansthanaka._ Shtop. Vasantasena, 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 Ravana forced Kunti[33] to his will; Jusht sho shall I enjoy you to the fill. 21
_Courtier._ Ah, Vasantasena,
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
P. 19.9]
_Sansthanaka_. 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 Draupadi you flee, when Rama kisshed her. I'll sheize you quick, as once the monkey-king Sheized Subhadra, Vishvavasu's shweet shishter. 25
_Servant_.
He's the royal protege; 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 Vasantasena,
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
[11.23. S.
_Vasantasena._ Pallavaka! Parabhritika!
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! a man! a man!
_Courtier._ Don't be a coward.
_Vasantasena._ Madhavika! Madhavika!
_Courtier._ [_Laughing._] Fool! She is calling her servants.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! Is she calling a woman?
_Courtier._ Why, of course.
_Sansthanaka._ Women! I kill hundreds of 'em. I'm a brave man.
_Vasantasena._ [_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.
_Sansthanaka._ Shqueal, Vasantasena, shqueal for your cuckoo Parabhritika, 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 Bhimasena? Or the shon Of Jamadagni, that thrice-mighty one? The ten-necked ogre? Shon of Kunti fair? Jusht look at me! My fingers in your hair, Jusht like Duhshasana, 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
_Vasantasena._ Sir, I am a weak woman.
_Courtier._ That is why you are still alive.
_Sansthanaka._ That is why you're not murdered.
_Vasantasena._ [_Aside._] Oh! his very courtesy frightens me. Come, I will try this. [_Aloud._] Sir, what do you expect from this pursuit? my jewels?
P. 24.7]
_Courtier._ Heaven forbid! A garden creeper, mistress Vasantasena, should not be robbed of its blossoms. Say no more about the jewels.
_Vasantasena._ What is then your desire?
_Sansthanaka._ I'm a man, a big man, a regular Vasudeva.[34] You musht love me.
_Vasantasena._ [_Indignantly._] Heavens! You weary me. Come, leave me! Your words are an insult.
_Sansthanaka._ [_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._] Vasantasena, 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
[13.22 S.
_Vasantasena._ Yet true love would be won by virtue, not violence.
_Sansthanaka._ But, mashter, ever since the shlave-wench went into the park where Kama's[35] temple shtands, she has been in love with a poor man, with Charudatta, 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 Vasantasena is in love with Charudatta? 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?
_Sansthanaka._ Yes. His house is to the left.
_Vasantasena._ [_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.
_Sansthanaka._ 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 Vasantasena 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
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter, I'm looking for Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ Is there anything you can trace her by, jackass?
_Sansthanaka._ Like what, for inshtance?
P. 28.3]
_Courtier._ Like the tinkling of her jewels, for instance, or the fragrance of her garlands.
_Sansthanaka._ 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 Vasantasena. Aside._] Vasantasena,
'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, Vasantasena?
_Vasantasena._ [_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.
* * * * *
_Charudatta_ [_who is within the house_]. Comrade, my prayer is done. Go now and offer sacrifice to the Mothers.
_Maitreya._ No, I'm not going.
_Charudatta._ 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.
[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 Radanika go with me, to keep me company.
_Charudatta._ Radanika, you are to accompany Maitreya.
_Radanika._ Yes, sir.
_Maitreya_. Mistress Radanika, do you take the offering and the candle while I open the side-door. [_He does so._]
_Vasantasena._ 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._]
_Charudatta._ 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, Radanika, and I will follow as soon as I have gone into the courtyard and lighted the candle again. [_Exit._
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter! mashter! I'm looking for Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ Keep on looking, keep on looking!
_Sansthanaka._ [_Does so._] Mashter! mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!
_Courtier._ Idiot, you've caught me.
_Sansthanaka._ You shtand right here, mashter, and shtay where you're put. [_He renews the search and seizes the servant._] Mashter! mashter! I've caught her! I've caught her!
P. 31.3]
_Servant._ Master, you've caught me, your servant.
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter here, shervant here! Mashter, shervant; shervant, mashter. Now shtay where you're put, both of you. [_He renews the search and seizes Radanika by the hair._] Mashter! mashter! Thish time I've caught her! I've caught Vasantasena!
Through the black night she fled, fled she; Her garland's shmell betrayed her; Like Chanakya caught Draupadi, 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
_Radanika._ [_In terror._] Oh, sirs, what does this mean?
_Courtier._ You jackass! It's another voice.
_Sansthanaka._ 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 Radanika._] Mistress Radanika!
[17.17. S.
_Sansthanaka._ 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 Charudatta is poor.
_Radanika._ Oh, Maitreya, see how they insult me.
_Maitreya._ What! insult you? No, they are insulting us.
_Radanika._ Very well. They are insulting you, then.
_Maitreya._ But they aren't using violence?
_Radanika._ Yes, yes!
_Maitreya._ Really?
_Radanika._ 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 Sansthanaka._] Ah, here is the sinner. Well, you brother-in-law to the king, Sansthanaka, you scoundrel, you coward, this is perfectly proper, isn't it? Charudatta the good is a poor man now--true, but are not his virtues an ornament to Ujjayini? 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
P. 35.4]
I pray you, accept this all-in-all of humblest supplication. [_He drops his sword, folds his hands, and falls at Maitreya's feet._]
_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 Charudatta 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
_Sansthanaka._ [_Indignantly._] But mashter, what makes you fold your hands sho helplesshly and fall at the feet of thish manikin?
_Courtier._ I was afraid.
_Sansthanaka._ What were _you_ afraid of?
_Courtier._ Of Charudatta's virtues.
_Sansthanaka._ 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
_Sansthanaka._ [_Impatiently._] Who is the shon of a shlave-wench anyway?
Brave Shvetaketu is he, Pandu's child? Or Radha's shon, the ten-necked ogre wild? Or Indradatta? or again, is he Shon of brave Rama and of fair Kunti? Or Dharmaputra? Ashvatthaman bold? Perhaps Jatayu's shelf, that vulture old? 47
[19.19. S.
_Courtier._ Fool! I will tell you who Charudatta 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.
_Sansthanaka._ Without Vasantasena?
_Courtier._ Vasantasena has disappeared.
_Sansthanaka._ 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
_Sansthanaka._ I'm not going without Vasantasena.
_Courtier._ And did you never hear this?
To hold a horse, you need a rein; To hold an elephant, a chain; To hold a woman, use a heart; And if you haven't one, depart. 50
_Sansthanaka._ If you're going, go along. I'm not going.
_Courtier._ Very well. I will go. [_Exit._
P. 38.2]
_Sansthanaka._ Mashter's gone, sure enough. [_To Maitreya._] Well, you man with the head that looks like a caret, you manikin, take a sheat, take a sheat.
_Maitreya._ We have already been invited to take a seat.
_Sansthanaka._ By whom?
_Maitreya._ By destiny.
_Sansthanaka._ Shtand up, then, shtand up!
_Maitreya._ We shall.
_Sansthanaka._ When?
_Maitreya._ When fate is kind again.
_Sansthanaka._ Weep, then, weep!
_Maitreya._ We have wept.
_Sansthanaka._ Who made you?
_Maitreya._ Poverty.
_Sansthanaka._ Laugh, then, laugh!
_Maitreya._ Laugh we shall.
_Sansthanaka._ When?
_Maitreya._ When Charudatta is happy once more.
_Sansthanaka._ You manikin, give poor little Charudatta thish messhage from me. "Thish wench with golden ornaments and golden jewels, thish female shtage-manager looking after the rehearsal of a new play, thish Vasantasena--she has been in love with you ever shince she went into the park where Kama's temple shtands. And when we tried to conciliate her by force, she went into your houshe. Now if you shend her away yourshelf and hand her over to me, if you reshtore her at once, without any lawshuit in court, then I'll be friends with you forever. But if you don't reshtore her, there will be a fight to the death." Remember:
Shmear a pumpkin-shtalk with cow-dung; Keep your vegetables dried; Cook your rice in winter evenings; And be sure your meat is fried. Then let 'em shtand, and they will not Bothershomely shmell and rot. 51
[21.17. S.
Tell it to him prettily, tell it to him craftily. Tell it to him sho that I can hear it as I roosht in the dove-cote on the top of my own palace. If you shay it different, I'll chew your head like an apple caught in the crack of a door.
_Maitreya._ Very well. I shall tell him.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Aside._] Tell me, shervant. Is mashter really gone?
_Servant._ Yes, sir.
_Sansthanaka._ Then we will go as quickly as we can.
_Servant._ Then take your sword, master.
_Sansthanaka._ You can keep it.
_Servant._ Here it is, master. Take your sword, master.
_Sansthanaka._ [_Taking it by the wrong end._]
My shword, red as a radish shkin, Ne'er finds the time to molder; Shee how it shleeps its sheath within! I put it on my shoulder. While curs and bitches yelp at me, I roam, Like a hunted jackal, home. 52
[_Sansthanaka and the servant walk about, then exeunt._
_Maitreya._ Mistress Radanika, you must not tell good Charudatta of this outrage. I am sure you would only add to the poor man's sorrows.
_Radanika._ Good Maitreya, you know Radanika. Her lips are sealed.
_Maitreya._ So be it.
* * * * *
_Charudatta._ [_To Vasantasena._] Radanika, Rohasena likes the fresh air, but he will be cold in the evening chill. Pray bring him into the house, and cover him with this mantle. [_He gives her the mantle._]
P. 49.19]
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] See! He thinks I am his servant. [_She takes the mantle and perceives its perfume. Ardently to herself._] Oh, beautiful! The mantle is fragrant with jasmine. His youthful days are not wholly indifferent to the pleasures of the world. [_She wraps it about her, without letting Charudatta see._]
_Charudatta._ Come, Radanika, take Rohasena and enter the heart of the house.
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] Ah me unhappy, that have little part or lot in your heart!
_Charudatta._ Come, Radanika, will you not even answer? Alas!
When man once sees that miserable day, When fate almighty sweeps his wealth away, Then ancient friendships will no longer hold, Then all his former bosom-friends grow cold. 53
_Maitreya._ [_Drawing near to Radanika._] Sir, here is Radanika.
_Charudatta._ Here is Radanika? Who then is this--
This unknown lady, by my robe Thus clinging, desecrated,
_Vasantasena._ [_To herself._] Say rather "consecrated."