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The Little Clay Cart: Act the Fourth: Madanikā and Sharvilaka | DeepTome | DeepTome

Madanikā. [Coming to herself.] O you reckless man! When you did what you ought not to have done for my sake, you didn't kill anybody or hurt anybody in that house?

Sharvilaka. Madanikā, Sharvilaka does not strike a terrified man or a man asleep. I did not kill anybody nor hurt anybody.

Madanikā. Really?

Sharvilaka. Really.

Vasantasenā. [Recovering consciousness.] Ah, I breathe again.

Madanikā. Thank heaven!

Sharvilaka. [Jealously.] What does this "Thank heaven" mean, Madanikā?

I sinned for you, when love had made me pine,
Although my house was good since time began;
Love took my virtue, but my pride is mine.
You call me friend and love another man?

[Meaningly.]

A noble youth is like a goodly tree;
His wealth, the fruit so fair;
The courtezan is like a bird; for she
Pecks him and leaves him bare.

Love is a fire, whose flame is lust,
Whose fuel is gallantry,

Vasantasenā. [With a smile.] His excitement is a little out of place.

Sharvilaka. Yes!

Those men are fools, it seems to me,
Who trust to women or to gold;
For gold and girls, ’tis plain to see,
Are false as virgin snakes and cold.

Love not a woman; if you ever do,
She mocks at you, and plays the gay deceiver:
Yet if she loves you, you may love her too;
But if she doesn't, leave her.

Too true it is that

A courtezan will laugh and cry for gold;
She trusts you not, but waits your trustful hour.
If virtue and a name are yours, then hold!
Avoid her as you would a graveyard flower.

And again:

As fickle as the billows of the sea,
Glowing no longer than the evening sky,
A woman takes your gold, then leaves you free;
You're worthless, like cosmetics, when you're dry.

Yes, women are indeed fickle.

One man perhaps may hold her heart in trust,
She lures another with coquettish eyes,
Sports with another in unseemly lust,
Another yet her body satisfies.

As some one has well said:

On mountain-tops no lotuses are grown;
The horse's yoke no ass will ever bear;
Rice never springs from seeds of barley sown;
A courtezan is not an honest fair.

The sun was hot one summer day;
I sought the shadow, there to stay:
Poor fool! the kindly branch to pay,
I stole its sheltering leaves away.

Vasantasenā. How sorry he seems. Surely, he did this thing in ignorance.

Sharvilaka. What is to be done now, Madanikā?

Madanikā. Your own wit should tell you that.

Sharvilaka. No. For you must remember,

Nature herself gives women wit;
Men learn from books a little bit.

Madanikā. Sharvilaka, if you will take my advice, restore the jewels to that righteous man.

Sharvilaka. But Madanikā, what if he should prosecute me?

Madanikā. No cruel heat comes from the moon.

Vasantasenā. Good, Madanikā, good!

Sharvilaka. Madanikā,

For what I did, I feel no grief nor fear;
Why tell me of this good man's virtues high?
Shame for my baseness touches me more near;
What can this king do to such rogues as I?

Because I followed after you;
When clouds obscure the moon by night,
’Tis hard to find a guide so true.

Madanikā. Then you must wait here a moment in Kāma's shrine, while I tell my mistress that you have come.

Sharvilaka. I will.

Madanikā. [Approaches Vasantasenā.] Mistress, a Brahman has come from Chārudatta to see you.

Vasantasenā. But girl, how do you know that he comes from Chārudatta?

Madanikā. Should I not know my own, mistress?

Vasantasenā. [Shaking her head and smiling. Aside.] Splendid! [Aloud.] Bid him enter.

Madanikā. Yes, mistress. [Approaching Sharvilaka.] Enter, Sharvilaka.

Sharvilaka. [Approaches. With some embarrassment.] My greetings to you.

He gives it to Madanikā, and starts to leave.]

Vasantasenā. Sir, will you undertake a return commission of mine?

Sharvilaka. [Aside.] Who will carry it? [Aloud.] And this commission is—

Vasantasenā. You will be good enough to accept Madanikā.

Sharvilaka. Madam, I do not quite understand.

Vasantasenā. But I do.

Sharvilaka. How so?

Vasantasenā. Chārudatta told me that I was to give Madanikā to the man who should return these jewels. You are therefore to understand that he makes you a present of her.

Sharvilaka. [Aside.] Ah, she sees through me. [Aloud.] Good, Chārudatta, good!

On virtue only set your heart's desire;
The righteous poor attain to heights whereto
The wicked wealthy never may aspire.

And again:

On virtue let the human heart be set;
To virtue nothing serves as check or let.
The moon, attaining unattainable, is led
By virtue to her seat on Shiva's head.

Vasantasenā. Is my driver there? [Enter a servant with a bullock-cart.]

Servant. Mistress, the cart is ready.

Vasantasenā. Madanikā girl, you must show me a happy face. You are free. Enter the bullock-cart. But do not forget me.

Madanikā. [Weeping.] My mistress drives me away. [She falls at her feet.]

Vasantasenā. You are now the one to whom honor should be

1 Go then, enter the cart. But do not forget me.

Sharvilaka. Heaven bless you! and you, Madanikā,

Turn upon her a happy face,
And hail with bended head the grace
That gives you now the name of wife,
As a veil to keep you safe through life.

[He enters the bullock-cart with Madanikā, and starts away.]

A voice behind the scenes. Men! Men! We have the following orders from the chief of police: "A soothsayer has declared that a young herdsman named Aryaka is to become king. Trusting to this prophecy, and alarmed thereat, King Pālaka has taken him from his hamlet, and thrown him into strict confinement. Therefore be watchful, and every man at his post."

Sharvilaka. [Listening.] What! King Pālaka has imprisoned my good friend Aryaka? And here I am, a married man. Confound it! But no,

Two things alone—his friend, his wife
Deserve man's love below;
A hundred brides may forfeit life
Ere he should suffer so.

Good! I will get out. [He does so.]

Madanikā. [Folding her hands. Tearfully.] My lord, if you must, at least bring me first to your parents.

Sharvilaka. Yes, my love, I will. I had the same thought in mind. [To the servant.] My good fellow, do you know the house of the merchant Rebhila?

Servant. Certainly.

Sharvilaka. Bring my wife thither.

Servant. Yes, sir.

Madanikā. If you desire it, dear. But dear, you must be very careful.

[Exit.

I'll rouse my kin, the kitchen cabinet,
Those high in fame by strength of good right arm,
And those who with the king's contempt have met,
And royal slaves, to save my friend from harm:
Like old Yaugandharāyana
For the good king Udayana.

And again:

My friend has causeless been confined
By wicked foes of timid kind;
I fly, I fly to free him soon,
Like the eclipse-oppressèd moon.

[Exit.]

Maid. [Entering.] Mistress, I congratulate you. A Brahman has come with a message from Chārudatta.

Vasantasenā. Ah, this is a joyful day. Show him every mark of respect, girl, and have him conducted hither by one of the pages.

Maid. Yes, mistress.

[Exit.

[Enter Maitreya with a page.]

Maitreya. Well! Rāvana, the king of the demons, travels with his chariot that they call the "Blossom." He earned it by his penances. Now I am a Brahman, and though I never performed any penances, I travel with another sort of a blossom—a woman of the town.

Maid. Sir, will you inspect our gateway.

Maitreya. [Gazes admiringly.] It has just been sprinkled and cleaned and received a coat of green. The threshold of it is pretty as a picture with the offerings of all sorts of fragrant flowers. It stretches up its head as if it wanted to peep into the sky. It is adorned with strings of jasmine garlands that hang down and toss about like the trunk of the heavenly elephant. It shines with its high ivory portal. It is lovely with any number of holiday banners that gleam red as great rubies and wave their coquettish fingers as

1 having his neck rubbed, like a prize-fighter after the fight. And here are others, horses having their manes put in shape. And here in a stall is another, a monkey, tied fast like a thief. [He looks in another direction.] And here is an elephant, taking from his drivers a cake of rice and drippings and oil. Show me the way, madam.

Maid. Come, sir, and enter the third court.

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the third court

1 the pipe is discoursing music as sweet as the humming of bees. And here, again, is a lute that somebody is holding on his lap like a girl who is excited by jealousy and love, and he is stroking it with his fingers. And here, again, are courtezan girls that sing as charmingly as honey-drunken bees, and they are made to dance and recite a drama with love in it. And water-coolers are hanging in the windows so as to catch the breeze. Show me the way, madam.

Maid. Come, sir, and enter the fifth court.

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the fifth court the overpowering smell of asafetida and oil is attractive enough to make a poor devil's mouth water. The kitchen is kept hot all the time, and the gusts of steam, laden with all sorts of good smells, seem like sighs issuing from its mouth-like doors. The smell of the preparation of all kinds of foods and sauces makes me smack my lips. And here, again, is a butcher's boy washing a mess of chitterlings as if it were an old loin-cloth. The cook is preparing every kind of food. Sweetmeats are being constructed, cakes are being baked. [To himself.] I wonder if I am to get a chance to wash my feet and an invitation to eat what I can hold. [He looks in another direction.] There are courtezans and bastard pages,

1 and Apsarases. 2 Really, this house is heaven. Tell me, who are you bastards anyway?

Pages. Why, we are bastard pages—

Petted in a stranger's court,
Fed on stranger's food,
Stranger's money makes us sport—
Not so very good.
Stranger women gave us birth,
Stranger men begot;
Baby elephants in mirth,
We're a bastard lot.

Maitreya. Show me the way, madam.

Maid. Come, sir, and enter the sixth court.

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! Here in the sixth court they are working in gold and jewels. The arches set with sapphires look as if they were the home of the rainbow. The jewelers are testing the lapis lazuli, the pearls, the corals, the topazes, the sapphires, the cat's-eyes, the rubies, the emeralds, and all the other kinds of gems. Rubies are being set in gold. Golden ornaments are being fashioned. Pearls are being strung on a red cord. Pieces of lapis lazuli are being cleverly polished. Shells are being pierced. Corals are being ground. Wet bundles of saffron are being dried. Musk is being moistened. Sandalwood is being ground to make sandal-water. Perfumes are being compounded. Betel-leaves and camphor are being given to courtezans and their lovers. Coquettish glances are being exchanged. Laughter is going on. Wine is being drunk incessantly with sounds of glee. Here are men-servants, here are maid-servants, and here are men who forget child and wife and money. When the courtezans, who have drunk the wine from the liquor jars, give them the mitten, they—drink. Show me the way, madam.

He may be shiny, may be greasy,
And perfumed may he be.
And yet I warn you to go easy;
He's a graveyard champak-tree.

Drinking brandy, rum, and wine,
Mother fell extremely ill.
If mother now should peak and pine,
A jackal-pack would have its fill.

Well, I have seen Vasantasenā's palace with its many incidents and its eight courts, and really, it seems as if I had seen the triple heaven in a nut-shell. I haven't the eloquence to praise it. Is this the house of a courtezan, or a piece of Kubera's 1 palace? Where's your mistress?

Maid. She is here in the orchard. Enter, sir.

Maitreya. [Enters and looks about.] Well! What a beautiful orchard! There are any number of trees planted here, and they are covered with the most wonderful flowers. Silken swings are hung under the thick-set trees, just big enough for a girl to sit in. The golden jasmine, the shephālikā, the white jasmine, the jessamine, the navamallikā, the amaranth, the spring creeper, and all the other flowers have fallen of themselves, and really, it makes Indra's heaven

The ashoka-tree, whose twigs so merry
And crimson flowers have just appeared,
Seems like a battling mercenary,
With clotting crimson gore besmeared.

Good! Now where's your mistress?

Maid. If you would stop star-gazing, sir, you would see her.

Maitreya. [Perceives Vasantasenā and approaches.] Heaven bless you!

Vasantasenā. [Speaking in Sanskrit. 1] Ah, Maitreya! [Rising.] You are very welcome. Here is a seat. Pray be seated.

Maitreya. When you are seated, madam. [They both seat themselves.]

Vasantasenā. Is the merchant's son well?

Maitreya. Well, madam.

Vasantasenā. Tell me, good Maitreya,

Do friends, like birds, yet seek a shelter free
Beneath the modest boughs of this fair tree,
Whose leaves are virtues, confidence its root,
Its blossoms honor, good its precious fruit?

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 2 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

[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 clouds may come, the rain may fall forever,

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.

Take the necklace, girl, and come quickly.

[Exeunt omnes.

Footnotes

59:1 A name of Kāma, the god of love.

59:2 Used as a refrigerant.

66:1 That is to say, You are now a legal wife, while I am still a courtezan.

68:1 "Rams in India are commonly trained to fight." Wilson.

69:1 Virtuous souls after death may become stars; but when their stellar happiness equals the sum of their acquired merit, they fall to earth again.

70:1 The choristers of heaven.

70:2 The nymphs of heaven.

72:1 The god of wealth.

73:1 This shows the excellence of Vasantasenā's education. Women, as an almost invariable rule, speak Prākrit.

73:2 A gesture of respectful entreaty.